„The Blindman's Truth"
No trace of nightmare he could see on her face as she slept, healed by Jaheira and wrapped in warm blankets. Not even a furrow on her brow, no expression on her lips. He watched her face carefully, unable to decide how much, or how little she had changed since the day he saw her for the first time in the depths of Nashkel Mines. Her hair was slightly longer, almost reaching the line of her waist, but full of tangles she never found time to properly brush, washed recently, but then covered with dust and cobwebs of the crypt, blood and graveyard's mud. Chestnut-colored locks seemed much darker, lying in disarray surrounding her face, fair skinned, without a trace of burns. She didn't look fresh and full of vitality anymore, but still on the borders of health. The only scars she had were those he only noticed now, so far hidden in the sleeves of a robe that was pierced by so many spikes and cut by that much of blades that only magic could possibly to hold it together under countless stitches. There were two long lines up to her wrists that told him clearly that she wasn't the one deprived of feelings.
"Xan" Jaheira sat on the other side of Daria's bedroll. The enchanter didn't answer, gave no sign that he was aware of Jaheira's presence. He wanted, but his voice didn't sound right to be heard in this moment of quiet. The sky over their heads was becoming darker, clouds thwarting the stars' glow. Upcoming rain could be smelled in the air. Soon they'd have to move the resting sun elf inside a tent.
"Do you know what the truth only the blind know is?" Jaheira addressed him, but looking at the girl, the woman, her dear old friend Gorion entrusted to her care. She touched her face gently and stroked her hair with effortlessness Xan almost hated her for. "It's how sight is important. How difficult it is to live without it. How the word in its every spectrum is different without being able to rely on your eyes. Only after you lose something you can tell how precious it was to you.
Daria is very dear to me. In many ways she is like my daughter. And I am aware of the impact the sole fact that she's alive has on the Balance. But I would never say that there is no thing in this word worth endangering this Balance, that's not what being a druid means. For me Daria is worth the risks, though I didn't realize it until only recently. There are dangers, there are sacrifices… already I am branded as a traitor among Harpers whom I considered my brethren and guides, but for me she's worth it. Lying down one's life for someone seems drastic, but I can comprehend it." Jaheira sighed deeply and Xan could almost see her thoughts reaching out to memories of Khalid. But then the half-elf's brow furrowed and she looked straight at him.
"But what you do… purposefully throwing away something that means so much to you... This I can't understand." To hear that said so plainly hurt like a needle piercing his chest.
"I lost my husband, Xan, the man I loved the most. I will have to live the rest of my life without him and believe me, every second I am aware of this fact more and more. You know how it hurts to lose someone. But if there was any chance to bring him back, no matter how dangerous or improbable... I'd try it."
"Jaheira…"
"Do not dismiss my advice thoughtlessly" she didn't let him finish. "Listen to the blind man's truth. A chance for happiness without any regrets happens only once."
Jaheira stood up and left him to his silent watch.
"I…" Midnight just passed. He entered the tent which Minsc just carried her into. She didn't wake and no one else was inside. Imoen was keeping watch with Jaheira and he wanted to use the moment to squeeze out a goodnight, to say something that would put his mind to ease at least a bit. He didn't say much to her since Spellhold, he didn't tell her what was happening with him during the nightmarish passage through the Underdark, but there had to be something that summed it up.
"I…" He tried to say it all, but without trying desperate, he tried to hold the raving words inside only letting the simple stoic sentences out. He couldn't find even one simple sentence. Only the thoughts were spiraling further and further.
"I…" '…cannot free myself from you. It is hopeless. No matter how hard I try to keep my thoughts, my eyes away from you, it doesn't get any easier and I can't go on like that forever, I can't do it even now. You are sleeping and in my mind this pathetic excuse is enough to lower my defenses and before I know slip into this dream I created in my mind, the twisted truth I hoped was true. Despite trying to stay on guard. Despite trying to stand firm on the ground, holding on to the things I know will happen. My death. And yours. The end of your existence.'
'I keep thinking these thoughts and make a step forward. It is just one small step. But one more and I am here, by your side as you sleep, and I don't even know when I gave up to this dream so much. I want to touch your hand, but this I cannot do. I am pathetic. I am too afraid to stand by your side, but not strong enough to leave it, so I try to make you walk away or cast me out. But you don't care, do you? My anguish means nothing to you. You have your own demons and mine pale in comparison.'
"I…" 'I decided to stay by your side, I promised, till the day Irenicus' dies. So here I am, trying to become as much a shadow as possible, not to cross the line where my actions would mean anything. Whenever I cross this line, whenever I try to change your way, I get burned as if by fire. I try not to see and not to watch. Dying would be easier, but isn't it always?'
"I hate you." 'I really do. Tears are coming from my eyes uncalled. It is reasonable. I betrayed you. I could have just as well been the one that pressed knives to your skin. I betrayed you to save my worthless life. There will be no justice, of course. There never is. You will die soon, either by Irenicus' hand or in countless battles among your brothers and sisters, and if the Gods have a cruel streak I will return to Evereska with the title of hero. One day news of you death will reach me. I will probably care still, I will feel terrible. But I will forget. Sooner or later, everything – your face, your name, the way you laugh, even that I sat here one night, unable to tell you anything that made sense. If Gods are looking my way, they will probably have enough sense of humor to let me live for another century of bitter regret.
But you know what? I will hate it.
Yes, maybe that will bring you some consolation. I will never be happy. Those few moments we had – the kiss, the night you told me you loved me, I think those were the only moments in my life I could say I was truly happy. Without you it will all be worthless. The memories will only bring more bitterness and pain.
So… I love you. And this is true even if I will never say it out loud again. Tomorrow I will do my best to die protecting you. If I fail I will try again the next day. And the one after that. It is selfish, I know, but I see no other choice for myself. I am doomed. Truly, now. I wish…
…for it to be different, for you to be free from this taint Bhaal's blood is. I wish I saw you for the first time in blooming gardens of Evereska, in broad daylight, away from any danger. I wish…'
Xan sighed, stood up and walked away. He found nothing he could say.
Daria stared at the tent shivering over her head, covering her from the rough wind blowing outside. By her sides slept Imoen and Jaheira, both clinging to her for warmth deep in their own dreams. Imoen was dreaming too, with her soul keeping her warmer than the blanket covering her body. Daria didn't move, not to wake them. She was thinking, staring at the top of their tent.
A black pearl hung on her neck on a silver necklace she couldn't recall creating it into. She remembered trying to make Solaufein stay, to bind his spirit to herself, protecting from his undead master. There was no possibility for her to succeed, she didn't know such magic. All she knew was how to be hurt. All she had left was a black pearl containing his ashes. And she was once more alone.
She could count on one hand the number of times she regretted not having her spirit, the inability to feel emotions as sharply as before, but deep in her heart she accepted this state, because at last there was no guilt she felt in the darkest corners of her subconscious since the night Gorion died, since she heard his killer say: 'Give up the ward you are keeping and you shall be spared'. At last she was free from this inability to forgive herself those countless deaths happening all around her, more often than to be taken for accidents or sign of a turning point of the age. Without these heavy feelings she could look at Jaheira and not recall Khalid, without these feelings she could ignore her advices and finally proceed at her own will.
She was free from any influence from her past.
And yet... she couldn't accept for this state to last. It wouldn't kill her as it was killing Irenicus slowly. Both she and Imoen were fueled with the blood of their father that would keep them alive and killing. She couldn't accept this to go on, because the moment Solaufein died she wouldn't be able to grieve him. The moment he would cease to exist he wouldn't matter to her any longer. That she couldn't allow, even looking at it from her emotionless perspective. And thus a crack appeared on the wall that surrounded her heart.
Long time ago Xan told her that for an elf she was, living as an adventurer, risking her life every day in a countless dangers of the road, there were only two perspectives. To lose all respect for life or to lose all the will to live. Because it was impossible to ignore every fallen enemy, sooner or later their deaths would affect everyone and during their long lives, the elves were influenced the most. In less than two years Daria felt the death in all its forms so close because of her heritage, as close as a living being could, that becoming a merciless killing machine appeared tempting, if it meant freeing from all hesitations and afterthoughts.
But even if that was the course she took, even if that was the only way for a child of Bhaal, other than death, then... because of Solaufein and for him, she would stray from it for a while longer, if only to grieve him properly.
Daria rubbed a rune on a bracelet she wore and Gooseberry appeared in a flash of dulled silver light. Imoen mumbled something in her sleep.
She and her familiar. Two minds woven by magic. They got separated when her spirit was stolen, their telepathic bond weakened by distance and disarray her mind have become, but somehow they found each other again, both heading towards the same place – their home. To a rat coming back to Athkatla aboard some ship was possible, but her long delay caused him much uncertainty and fear. Never again she wanted to lose her familiar like that and because of that she created a bracelet that allowed him to go to her side anytime and anywhere. By her side was his place as well as hers by his.
'Mistress?' his thoughts tingled her like a touch of rat's whiskers.
'I feel lonely, I need someone to talk to, someone close…'
'I am with you, my mistress and I'll be happy to ease your loneliness. I will forever stay by your side.' The rat snuggled to the elf's neck, tickling her. The words she needed to hear so much brought tears to her eyes. He felt like the last warm part of her mind. 'I may be but a rat, my mistress, but do not underestimate me. I will defend you however I can. I will gnaw through the wires of a trap that threatens you, I will bite a wizard's toes if he tries to enchant you, I will guide you to a hole where you can hide safely. There is no thing I wouldn't do for you, my wizardess.'
'Both among the rats and elves, there is no braver spirit than you, my familiar. How can I ever be sad with you by my side?' Tears were rolling down Daria's cheeks, but Gooseberry moved to lick them off her face. The rat's dark eyes were looking into hers and she knew he understood. They were of twin minds.
"Sis?" Imoen mumbled, half-asleep. The pink-head opened one eye lazily and seeing her sister crying moved closer to embrace her.
"You're not alone, sis, you know that? You have me by your side, you'll always have. Your good old Imoen…" she whispered into elf's ear and then kissed her on the cheek.
Daria felt someone else's arms circling her shoulders from the other side of the bedroll. Jaheira's smell of herbs filled her nostrils.
"You behaved highly irresponsibly" the druidess muttered, hugging the small elf to her chest. "We are not telepaths, and we can't communicate through sighs and gazes either. We're your friends, but we won't know what's wrong unless you tell us. Only then we can do everything to help you."
"I'm sorry?" Daria asked, her tears disappearing in her sister's pink hair.
"It's alright, child. It's alright."
