The blur of motion across the room was astonishing; it took the man standing there more than a few seconds to realize that the body hurtling towards him was no longer in motion, but locked in a one-sided embrace with him. Imoen's arms were wrapped around him, her head buried in his chest with eyes clamped shut, a few tears squeezing from them despite her efforts. His hand came up in surprise, his face showing the confusion he was feeling; he dropped his hand, patting her on the back tentatively. "Um... I- well. Excuse me, miss... are you all right? It's ah... um... wow."

"C'mon... don't tell me you don't recognize me." Imoen asked desperately, looking up into his eyes, hope pouring from her in waves. "You've got to know me!"

"I... I'm sorry. You're face isn't really... well, familiar." he said, half-sheepishly as he tried to gently pry her arms off of himself. "Uh, as I said, this is a Spell and Component shop... I love a friendly customer as much as the next storekeep, but I like to get to know folks before we sit down and have tea."

Keldorn cleared his throat, stepping up and pulling Imoen back, his eyes quickly meeting hers and signaling for her to remain quiet. "You'll have to pardon her, sir... she's lost a close friend as of late... you bear an uncanny resemblance to said friend. My name is Keldorn. She is... ah, you can call her Im. And this is-"

"Aerie!" his eyes lit up as Greywulf stepped over to the suddenly confused Avariel, taking her by the arm and holding her tightly. Her eyes darted over to Keldorn's, hope suddenly springing afresh that he might have recognized her, perhaps regained some glimmer of memory with the sight.

"You...you recognize me?" she said carefully; he laughed, then leaned over and kissed her, Aerie's eyes widening as their lips met. He shook his head wryly as they parted, her eyes blinking twice in surprise. "Of course I recognize you; just because you're wearing a little different outfit since the last time I saw you doesn't mean I can't recognize my own wife. Speaking of which, when did you pick up these clothes? You look good."

"Wife?!" Imoen nearly doubled over with the word, but Keldorn once again leaned over, glaring with a look that brooked no argument. Remain quiet. Now.

"I'm glad to see you're home safe; did you make the pickup? Those scrolls will help the local mages a lot; their supplies are still fairly limited, as I'm sure you understand." Greywulf said, explaining to the other two before looking back down at Aerie, her eyes darting back and forth, pleading for some kind of answer.

"I... I didn't. I was... well, I never made it there. They were... taken." she managed, Greywulf's eyes narrowing as he listened. For a moment, she feared he would detect her lie- she breathed a sigh of relief as he exhaled in relief, leaning over to embrace her again.

"Taken? Bandits, hmm? I told you these roads were dangerous... at least you're safe. That's all that matters... but it's settled. From now on I go on the pickup runs. You stay here and mind the shop, all right?" he said with a weak smile, obviously relieved at her well-being and safety as he took her chin with one hand, gazing into her deep blue eyes.

"Of... of course." Aerie replied, an idea running through her head. She gestured over to the other two, letting a smile creep across her mouth. "These two found me on the road; helped me drive off my attackers. That's how we met."

Greywulf raised one eyebrow, nodding in appreciation as he stepped over to them, bowing low before extending a hand to both Keldorn and Imoen in turn. "If that's the case, then you two have my eternal gratitude. Aside from that, any friend of my wife's is a friend of mine. Please, come in and make yourselves at home. I should go pack up a few things in the back storeroom, but I'm sure Aerie will be able to entertain you for a few minutes. If you'll bring them to the living quarters..."

"Of course, dear." Aerie managed, peering down the hallway as she spotted something that vaguely resembled a living room.

"Don't worry about us, Greywulf." Keldorn tossed out, nodding as he and the other two began to follow Aerie's tentative direction through the house and shop. "Take your time."

The man frowned, letting a wry smile cross his face. "Greywulf? Don't tell me Aerie's come up with a new nickname for me... hmm. Not bad, though. I kind of like it, really."

"Oh... you know me." Aerie blurted out, forcing a smile across her face as she met Greywulf's gaze down the hall. "I just thought it... fit, that's all."

"As long as you're not referring to my hair color, its fine by me." he laughed, before turning back to Imoen and Keldorn. "I did forget introductions, I suppose. The name's Galmarath; I'll be with you in just a few minutes."

He disappeared as the three slipped into the living quarters, Aerie and Imoen both veritably collapsing into chairs while Keldorn sat carefully, his mind still racing over the situation. He looked over at Aerie, the Avariel dropping one hand into her face as she tried to regain composure. "His... his wife? I don't understand... I thought he never met any of us in this world! Keldorn, what's going on?"

"I don't know..." he murmured. "Perhaps we can pry the information out of him when he returns. We shall have to be discreet though... so Imoen, no more of these outbursts! You will do nothing but convince him of our insanity, so act as you should. For all intents and purposes, we know little or nothing about this man, only that he is married to the Aerie of this world... who apparently is picking up some package of scrolls, if what he said is true."

Imoen stuck her tongue out at Keldorn, a scowl crossing her face as she sighed, composed once again. "Excuse me for getting my hopes up; I just... well, I just thought he'd recognize me. If anyone, I thought he'd know me..."

"We don't even know him. Not like this." Keldorn shook his head. "We'll have to try and jog his memory little by little. Whatever life he has built for himself here seems to be a good one. He will be loathe to believe the truth, especially a truth as dark as his own."

Aerie shifted her weight, her face betraying the fear she felt. "But he thinks I'm his wife! I should know things I won't... I don't know if I can keep covering like this. It's all just so wrong... and what about his name? Galmarath?"

Imoen suddenly laughed, leaning back in her chair as she rubbed her eyes, the laughs dying down to a chuckle. "Galmarath. I needed a good laugh. Right... I'd almost forgotten that's his real name."

"His real name's not Greywulf?" Aerie asked in surprise.

"Well of course not." Imoen said, looking slightly miffed she had even asked. "Didja think he was born with a cool name like 'Greywulf'? I'll tell ya about it some time, when we're not in a world where I'm the greatest killer aside from Sarevok to have walked Faerun."

"Quiet... he's coming." Keldorn whispered, noting the approaching footsteps as Galmarath returned, holding a few cups and a steaming teapot on a tray. He quietly poured a cup for each of them, handing them out before seating himself beside Aerie, one arm across her shoulders, as he drew close to her. "Ah... nice to have a bit of company for a change. Business is rather slow, what with the fact most people who can even read magic don't have the money to afford scrolls. Not even sure why we keep the business running, such as it is. It's more of a gesture of faith, than anything else. Faith that everything will turn out all right."

Keldorn took a sip of his tea, nodding in approval. "I agree. Hope is something in rare supply these days... no matter where you hail from. Forgive my curiosity, but Aerie mentioned a little of how you originally met while we were on the road back here; it sounded like quite the tale. I don't suppose you'd be willing to inform us of the particulars?"

Galmarath glanced at Aerie, who blushed with a shrug. He chuckled, his gaze resting on the half-full cup of tea in his hands. "Heh... Aerie's not much for telling stories. I'm surprised she said anything about it, to tell the truth. But it's not really anything special. Still, if you really are interested, I suppose there's no harm in swapping a few tales. I suppose you could call our meeting chance, though I prefer fate."

"Fate? You didn't tell us your husband was such a romantic." Imoen said, winking at Aerie, ignoring the small blast of both embarrassment and irritation that crossed Aerie's features before turning back to Galmarath's features. "Sorry... continue."

"It all started with the circus. Just one random day, out to enjoy a fine afternoon at the big top." he shook his head with a hint of disbelief. "How many years now, Aerie? Four? Five?"

"Er... five, I think." she replied, quickly returning to her tea.

"Right. I wasn't expecting to find anything special... but that changed quickly enough." he grinned at her. "No, there was the cutest little elf I saw as I was leaving for the day, trying to balance a stack of papers in one hand and an armload of circus props in the other; she never saw the bucket of washing water in front of her. Needless to say, I couldn't let the inevitable occur, so I rushed in gallantly, ready to save the day... kind of."

"Kind of?" Imoen asked, arching one eyebrow.

"Well, where there's washing water... there's a mop." Galmarath shrugged. "In this case, lying across the path of the tent entrance, just out of sight. I tripped over it, bowling into the wash water and sending Aerie tumbling at the same time. We both ended up completely soaked, covered in hay, and in my case unconscious."

"It must have been quite the fall." Keldorn chuckled, the gentle ease and aura of peace that surrounded such simple, peaceful stories becoming quite comfortable.

"Well, I did say she was carrying an armload of circus props, right? That includes weights for the strong men. How was I supposed to know she'd summoned divine strength to carry all of it?" Galmarath shrugged. "The next thing I knew I woke up in a tent, looking up at the most angelic face I'd ever seen. Then I saw Aerie too."

"Galmarath!" Aerie flushed red, slapping his arm despite herself as he laughed, setting his tea cup down as he tried to avoid her meager blows.

"You know I'm kidding..." he planted a small peck on her cheek as she calmed, slowly becoming more at ease in the situation. Keldorn gave her an almost imperceptible nod. Good. Stay in the part. The more convincing, the better.

"Ah, where was I? Oh yes. Aerie nursed me back to health, such as it was. Pretty soon I found myself spending a lot more time at the circus... but it wasn't until the Bhaalspawn wars that we really fell in love. The one good thing that came from it, I suppose. The armies were rushing through the city; they had finally reached the Promenade and the circus. Most of the circus had already been evacuated, but I went back just to be sure she was safe. Good thing too; a few of the circus folk had elected to stay behind, preferring to fight with the guard than flee to safety. What were their names again?"

"Umm..." Aerie thought quickly, her memory flashing through everyone she had known in the circus- "Castin, the archer. Tiny, the strongman... I think he was there too, right?"

"If you say so." Galmarath shrugged. "I honestly don't remember too much; just that I came around the corner to find Aerie behind a small group of the circus folk and city guards, casting spells and healing who she could... just before an arrow nailed her shoulder. I swooped in and grabbed her, just as the rest began to retreat. They escaped with a small remnant of the circus, hiding and fighting when they could... but I brought Aerie back to my house. It was my turn to play the healer, even if I'm not the greatest at it."

"You did the best you could." Aerie said, smiling wistfully at him as she clasped hands with him. Imoen tried unsuccessfully to hide a smile, watching Aerie play her part... perhaps a bit too enthusiastically.

"Well, regardless of my less than adequate healing skills, she recovered. I kept her and her father safe here with our family; Quayle and my parents both moved south after the wars ended, away from all the conflict, but we stayed here. Two years since we wed." Galmarath said as he leaned over, pouring himself another small cup of tea, resting the steaming cup on his leg as he sat. "What about you two? How'd you end up on the road to Athkatla? I don't suppose the two of you are-?"

Imoen's eyes bulged as she nearly choked on the tea she was sipping, trying to cover her coughs. "Us? Oh no..."

Keldorn arched one eyebrow at her reaction, and then turned back to Galmarath, the corner of his mouth curling upward just slightly as he contemplated the words he was about to say and how much Imoen would absolutely hate him for it- "Not at all. I'm her father. She's a prankster, my Im."

To his credit, Keldorn didn't move a muscle as Imoen glared daggers of hate into him, finally reaffixing her look of sugary cheer as she turned back to the slightly confused Galmarath; the only sign anything was different was the tightness to her jaw as she ground her teeth together. "Yeah. I'm his daughter. Thanks for mentioning it, Dad."

"Not at all. You mentioned that your parents all moved away from these parts; do you still keep in touch with them?" Keldorn prodded.

"Oh yes." Galmarath nodded. "Aerie's Uncle Quayle stuck with Father and Mother... they all moved down to Beregost. It's a nice place, if a little small compared to Athkatla. Still, they all seem happy, or at least as happy as in-laws can be moved in with one another."

"Beregost, huh?" Imoen nodded, thinking a little bit. "I don't suppose you've ever been down that far?"

"Not for some time." he replied. "I was raised near Tethyr, but we moved quickly. Came up here to Athkatla when I was seven, lived here ever since. Not that I haven't been around here and there; I even made it to Candlekeep once. Had to buy my way in with the rarest book I'd ever seen, but a chance to go through the volumes they had there... it was an experience I won't soon forget."

"Hmm. I used to have friends in Candlekeep; one of them was a mage by the name of Gorion." Imoen said cautiously. "I don't suppose you met him while you were there, did you?"

"Gorion... the name is... well, I think it's kind of-" Galmarath frowned, one of his hands shaking slightly, the tea sloshing and landing on his hand, the scalding liquid taking him by surprise. Aerie reached out to take the cup from him, quickly using a towel to dry his hand, a red mark leaving evidence of where he had been burned. "Sorry... I just suddenly got a headache of sorts... I think it's passed now. Excuse me, but I'm going to get some cold water for this burn."

Galmarath stood, nodding to his guests, then exited the room, leaving the three alone once more. Aerie watched as he left, finally turning the corner at the end of the hallway leading to their sitting room, then whirling to face her comrades. "Did you see that? When you brought up Gorion, he almost remembered... that's what it might've been, anyway."

"I think so." Keldorn frowned. "He looked like he was in pain for a moment... and I can't say I'm surprised."

"What do you mean?" Imoen frowned, setting down her teacup with a disgusted look. "I hate tea..."

"What I mean is that he's lived an entire life, and has an entire life's memories to deal with. He's also got his real memories... somewhere. Trying to overlay them, bring one to dominance over the other... it surely can't be pleasant." he mused. "Still, perhaps we might have found a way to bring him back. If we can just continue to push at his mind, feed him bits and pieces of his real life, perhaps-"

The sound of the door opening up front caught them off guard, the little bell that signaled an arrival tinkling gently enough to echo through the house. Keldorn glanced at Aerie, gesturing for her to answer. She nodded, trying to compose herself as she prepared to greet whatever customer or acquaintance she was supposed to know. Just improvise... improvise and it'll go like clockwork-

Aerie's thoughts ended as she froze in the doorway of the back of the shop, gazing at... herself. An exact replica of Aerie stood at the open door, a large satchel full of scrolls under one arm as the elf stared at her copy...

"I thought I locked the door when you arrived, I suppose one more customer for the day won't... hurt-" Galmarath came in behind the three adventurers in the back, also freezing as he spotted Aerie in the doorway, looking back and forth between both versions in utter confusion and verging on panic.

Keldorn suppressed an urge to curse, then turned to Galmarath, tightening his resolve. "Hmm... perhaps we need to have a talk of sorts. Some more tea might be a good idea."

X X X X X X X

Imoen inhaled sharply, holding her breath as Keldorn finished their tale. Galmarath sat opposite of the three adventurers, his version of Aerie seated beside him with a mixture of fear, bewilderment and confusion covering her face; Galmarath's expression, however, was pointedly more hostile. His fingers were clasped in front of him as he glared at Keldorn, not speaking despite the end of the paladin's words. Aerie finally spoke, "I know it all sounds crazy-"

"Crazy? That's putting it lightly." Galmarath said harshly, his voice grating and dark. "You're telling me that everything I know is a lie. That this house, this world... my life- all of it's a lie. Nothing more than a fantasy imagined by some mystical gem? You're either sadistic or insane."

"Greywulf, just listen-"

"Stop calling me that!" he growled, standing as he pulled away from his own wife's hand, a burning fire in his eyes as he stared down Keldorn, the paladin not losing his cool despite the situation. "I'm not your damn Bhaalspawn, and I don't want to be! I have a life here, a real life that consists of a wife, parents who love me, and a child! Unless you're telling me that my six-month old daughter in the other room there is a lie too-"

"That's exactly what we're saying." Keldorn cut him off, standing to meet Galmarath's posture. "No matter what you want to believe, what you want... you know the truth. You are Greywulf, Bhaalspawn and ward of Gorion. Your father was Bhaal, Lord of Murder-"

Galmarath's brow twitched, a flicker of pain crossing his face as he listened, "Stop it..."

"You were raised by Gorion, who was killed by your brother Sarevok!" Keldorn said, his voice becoming more urgent as he increased the intensity of his words. "You and Imoen are siblings, brother and sister!"

Galmarath bent over, clutching his head as he gritted his teeth. "I said stop-"

"Minsc! Jaheira! Dynaheir! Khalid! Imoen! All of them your allies, your family against Sarevok! Kidnapped by Irenicus, two of them killed, another taken by the Cowled Wizards-"

Galmarath dropped to his knees, crying out in pain as Keldorn surged forward, seeing their opportunity finally arriving...

The sound of incantations took him and the other two by surprise; a flurry of magic missiles slammed into Keldorn, throwing him back and to the ground; his breastplate smoked from the impact as he tried to shake off the unexpected attack, his vision just clear enough to see this world's version of Aerie with her hands outstretched and crackling with magic, the elf hurriedly kneeling beside Galmarath. "Stop it! You're hurting him, can't you see that?!"

"We don't have a choice, he has to see the truth-" Aerie tried to explain, but she quieted as Galmarath's head flew up, a smoldering fury in his eyes. "Get out. Now."

"Greywulf... listen to us." Keldorn managed, struggling to his feet. "We're not your enemies here. We just want to talk."

"Talk?" Galmarath stood with Aerie's aid, glaring heavily. "You come into my house. Somehow... somehow impersonate my wife. Insult my family, my life, and take advantage of my trust and hospitality. I want all of you out of my house now. You are not welcome here, now or in the future. We have nothing more to discuss."

A hush fell over the room, only broken by the sound of a child crying in the adjoining room; Keldorn opened his mouth as though to speak again... he closed it, slowly turning his back and filing out with the others behind him. Imoen spared one last look at his impassive visage, looking for any sign of regret, sadness... she found nothing.

The sound of the door slamming behind them was an ugly, ill-fitting noise in their ears as they exited, knowing what had been lost in their battle for not only Greywulf's soul, but their own as well. Aerie glanced at the house and then back to Keldorn, the paladin leaning against one of the support pillars for the overhang in the Promenade. He was still trying to catch his wind after the surprise attack; he caught Aerie's questioning gaze, her unspoken words obvious. What now?

"I... I don't know." Keldorn said, reluctantly and with a hint of defeat. "I... I really don't know what to do now. We were close, I could feel it... but it wasn't enough. He'll never agree to listen to us now. The hold this world has on him is too strong- and I can understand why."

Imoen smiled wryly, veritably trotting over to Keldorn with an oh-so-innocent smile on her face. He noticed, arching one eyebrow with more than a hint of suspicion. "You have a look in your eye that I'm not sure I like, Imoen. What are you thinking?"

"Just an idea." Imoen shrugged. "You're right... the family he's got here gives him something to hold onto... hey, if he's got a daughter, that makes me an aunt! Ooo... aunty Imoen. Heh-"

"Imoen, please. If you've any plan of value, I would love to hear it without so many anecdotes." Keldorn sighed, his chest obviously still hurting.

She tossed her hair to the side with a slightly miffed look, then continued. "Yes, well. Like I was saying, his family keeps him grounded in this world. Our obvious plan has to be separating him from his family and his world."

"You mean like kidnapping him?" Aerie frowned, moving to Keldorn as she laid one hand over his armor, murmuring a series of magics that seeped into his flesh and healed the small injury he had sustained. "I doubt that will make him any more inclined to listen to us."

"Not quite what I had in mind." Imoen shook her head. "Y'see, when the other Aerie stumbled in, she was carrying a bunch of scrolls and the like... and a list of delivery points and schedules for their shop. Like the scroll shipment they're picking up three days from now in what used to be Port Llast. He did say he was going to be handling the shipment pickups from now on, right?"

"True..." Keldorn scratched his chin, looking for any flaws in the plan. "I still think our task will be of the utmost difficulty, now that we've accosted him once. I would not be surprised if we are forced to physically detain him for the boy to listen."

"Who said anything about talking to him?" Imoen grinned, turning to the elf-cleric. "So Aerie... we've got about three days to prepare. How are you at illusionary magic?"

Aerie opened her mouth to respond... then closed it with a smile.

X X X X X X X

The sound of leaves crunching under his feet was kind of enjoyable; it was very natural and 'normal', a rarity in such times. He took a few extra steps in the leaf-covered grass before turning his walk back to the dirt and gravel covered path that composed the road to Port Llast. Galmarath wrapped his wool cloak around him tighter, glad for it on such a day. It was his second on the road, heading for the Port where a brand new shipment of spell components was awaiting him, as well as a few choice scrolls he would have been hard-pressed to make himself or find anywhere else.

The few mages left in Athkatla depended on him; he and Aerie ran the only outside supply for arcane magic they could use to resupply. It was not a role he relished, in all honesty. He wasn't suited to play the hero, nor was he used to it. He hadn't lived an extraordinary life, nor had he been given extraordinary parents. They'd raised him well enough, his father a scholar of sorts and his mother a simple housewife. He'd never had siblings, just a few close friends here and there while growing up. Most of his friends had been infected with wanderlust; as soon as they were able they took off from their homes and set out to explore the continent, searching for glory and riches. He, on the other hand, was more than content to learn a few spells, start a family, and in times like these, just survive.

His father had known a few spells in his younger days and had taught him those which he still remembered; he'd expanded on those by a select few. Nothing of any real power, but if worse came to worse he could throw a fireball to cover a hasty retreat. He'd only had to fight for his life once, and that was when a group of bandits had thought his rucksack of recent trades looked valuable enough to steal. He'd been frightened to death while fighting the group, barely able to move as the fear and adrenaline rushed through him- but the thought of those waiting for him at home drove him onward. Aerie. His daughter, not yet born at the time, but everything to him now.

Anytime he was forced to leave his daughter's side was little more than a necessary evil to him, now. Not that he wanted Aerie to have to leave, especially with how dangerous the roads were, but still... he really wished he could be at her side, watching those great big blue eyes meet his, listening to her little cries and noises- the sound of a branch snapping amidst the wood nearby got his attention, and for a brief moment he raised his hands, already trying to remember the words for the few arcane spells he knew... but seconds passed, minutes, and nothing was forthcoming. He exhaled deeply, wiping brown hair from his face as he turned back to the road. It was probably nothing. Ever since those 'visitors' had spoken with him two days ago... he shook his head angrily and kept moving.

Despite his best efforts, the memory of what they had told him, what they had tried so desperately to convince him of- it rolled through his head like thunder, each stagger of memory causing a slight pain in his head. He wouldn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Just some twisted lies cooked up for Mask knew what purpose-

A flash of lightning crackled through the sky, followed by the partnering thunder that nearly deafened him with the noise. Sheets of rain were suddenly hailing down upon his body, Galmarath darting towards the tree line in haste and confusion as the back of his robes flapped and soared in the wind. He covered his eyes with both hands, shielding them from the rain while trying to decipher how the weather, so nice and calm a few seconds ago, had changed into the maelstrom he currently found himself in. Beneath the weather-related noise, there was something else... something faint, but still audible.

He pushed away the stinging branches and twigs that blocked him as he stumbled through the forest, drawing closer and closer to whatever was making those noises, the sounds growing louder and louder-

"Hand over your ward, and you may leave unharmed."

The sound of that deep, throaty voice rung through his head, followed by a splitting pain that nearly brought him to his knees. Somewhere, sometime, someplace... he had heard it before. Not just that voice, but those words. Where-

"I would be a fool to trust in your benevolence."

He managed to push forward a little further, watching as the tree line vanished into a clearing. Six figures stood on one side, two on the other. The side with the numerical advantage had ogres, gnolls, a few orcs... and one giant, armored figure at lead, hulking with fearsome blades jetting from the black metal, rain dribbling off it in steady streams. His eyes glowed bright yellow, the only things visible under the void that seemed to exist under his horned, skull shaped helmet. Those eyes though... they kept drawing him in, sucking him away to some deep recess of his mind, a place he didn't know about but desperately wanted to keep contained-

"I'm sorry you feel that way, old man. Take them!"

He wrenched his vision away from the armored figure as he saw flashes of light from the other side ignite, magic missiles, flame and acid arrows all igniting and striking each monster as they attempted to move forward, never getting more than a few steps before falling. He looked at their bodies, fading with the mist, then looked up again- and now there were but two. The old man and the monster in armor. He studied the wizard's face; his fearless eyes, his heavy posture, worn and tired under the soaked robes he wore... but there was something more. Power, but not just that... fear? No. Worry. Worry for the boy. Worry for him? Strange, why would he think of himself as the boy-?

His eyes widened as he watched the wizard raise his hands, strobes of lightning dancing from his fingertips and sizzling as they struck the chest of his opponent... only to dissipate harmlessly as black runes glowed blood red upon his armor. Underneath the darkness, underneath the helmet, somehow he knew that the man in black was smiling. He glanced down at the fading runes, then back at the old man, whose countenance was still as determined as ever. "I almost felt that... almost. Your magics are useless. The battle was over before it began, old man!"

The armored figure raised a greatsword high, stepping forward to cleave the old man in two, but for someone as aged and elderly as the wizard, he moved with amazing speed. Somehow he had moved out of the way and slipped behind the dark warrior before his sword hit the ground. His hands were no longer in attack position, stretched out to deliver magical energy, but he held one by his side, the other clutching a dagger that glowed just faintly in the night. The warrior turned to see it, then barked a laugh. "You are either courageous beyond measure, or a fool. Either way, you will die."

The sword came around in a back strike, designed to cut him in two, but once more, the wizard ducked underneath, this time lunging forward with the dagger- it struck his armor, barely scratching the metal. However, it was not meant to cut through steel. Its purpose was something entirely different. The glow left the dagger, somehow creeping onto the armor it had struck, hesitating for a moment before sweeping over every length of the metallic covering. Each rune glowed faintly for a second... then crumbled, falling to dust before the astonished warrior and the mage he fought.

"What have you done to me, wizard! Speak!"

"Did you come to this field expecting to find a cowardly old man and a frightened whelp? Easy prey for the Chaos Blade you carry?" the wizard demanded, his voice still commanding and strong over the rainfall. "I have spent every waking hour of the last weeks and months preparing for this day, for this battle! One of us will fall here, Sarevok, but I swear you will pay dearly if it is I."

With that, his hands flew up again, this time spitting dozens of magic missiles, simple spells and of little power alone... but the air was thick with them as they exploded against Sarevok's armor. His shouts could be heard across the clearing as the night sky lit up with magic and power. Galmarath swallowed as he realized what the old wizard had done; trading in the magical energies he would normally keep for powerful spells and instead funneling that energy into the simplest of conjurations, multiplied by a hundred. A thousand. There was no way the armored man could win... but deep inside, Galmarath knew. Something was wrong. Something was going to happen, a dread feeling in the pit of his stomach that he was powerless to stop- the warrior burst through the cloud of steam and smoke that he had been engulfed in, pieces of his armor peeled and shredded, the flesh underneath blackened and burnt- but he was going too fast. The wizard was too close to dodge again. One giant slash of his blade... and Galmarath heard himself scream as the old man's body slumped to the ground.

The world strobed white before his eyes, and Galmarath suddenly found himself no longer in a blood and rain drenched clearing, but in a simple wooded area, only a few hundred feet off the main road. He blinked once, feeling his pulse and heart racing as he tried to sort the events of the past few seconds in his head. It had been so real, what- of course. His lip curled down in a growl of defiance as he realized the trick. The three who had confronted him at his house. They were after him again. Still trying to trick him, trying to make him believe these images... he shouted a curse into the air, whirling as he looked for any trace of the interlopers. There was nothing, but he'd be damned if they tried something like this again. A thought crossed his mind... what if they went after his family? He turned and began to scramble back towards the main road, his thoughts fully on Aerie and his daughter and nothing else-

"In quite the hurry, ain't ya?"

He stopped, recognizing the voice. Of course he had been right. The pink-haired girl from the shop. Im, the older warrior had called her. The voice sounded slightly bemused, which only served to make him angrier. "Come out and face me! What do you want from me?!" he screamed, whirling as the voice tsked.

"I would... but you don't look like you remember yet. I was hoping we could avoid all this. I'm sorry, Greywulf. I really am."

He darted back towards the main road, hoping to get away from the next trap or whatever spell they planned to use on him next- too late. Everything changed, the world around him blurred... bringing new and somehow familiar surroundings. No longer in a clearing, or even outside- he looked around, trying to get his bearings as walls formed and stood tall, completing the images he saw yet disbelieved at the same time. Shelves and shelves of books surrounded on every side, mingled with desks that held papers and ink quills strewn about liberally. A few chairs sat here and there, nothing fancy but good enough for study... which if appearances were any indication, was exactly what the room was designed for.

A buzzing at the front of his mind took him by surprise; he crouched low, holding his head as she tried to fight it back, but once more there was little time for respite of any sort. A form swirled in the low light, only brought by the candles lit in the room. The young man he had seen with the wizard previously- older now, so much more experience- he sat in one of the chairs, his back to Galmarath. He heard the creak of a door opening, Galmarath hurriedly stepping aside as the wooden portal swung wide behind him. Five figures entered, their faces bringing another jolt of pain to his mind as each one passed through his mind. The last woman, imposing in her mage's robes and regal bearing, closed the door smoothly, the others approaching the seated man.

"Greywulf, we cannot afford to linger here. It is not safe. If this were the wild, I would call it a nest of vipers." the bronze-skinned woman, clad in chain mail and wielding a long spear remarked, stepping over to the still sitting man, a frown crossing her brow. "Greywulf? Did you not hear me?"

"Bar the door, Dynaheir." his voice was hard, rough... but familiar. Too familiar. Galmarath grit his teeth as white began blurring the edges of his vision. The slight ache in his head was growing, becoming a migraine as it threatened to overwhelm him... but he couldn't look away. Not yet.

"Greywulf, is s-something wrong?" the warrior half-elf's stuttering voice pierced the tension in the room... but it didn't dissipate. Any hopes of resolving whatever matter had arisen were squelched as Greywulf's voice rang out, all hard edges and strained.

"How long?"

"What?" the young girl Galmarath had seen earlier, the one in his home- who had been speaking to him a few seconds ago out of thin air?- she stepped over to this Greywulf, placing one hand on his shoulder, worry lines creasing her otherwise smooth features. "Greywulf? What are you talking about-"

"I asked them how long!" Greywulf flew from the chair as he faced a surprised Khalid and Jaheira, the two half-elves taking an involuntary step back at the ire radiating from the young sorcerer. His eyes were red, the tears having long since dried but still waiting in the wings. A piece of parchment was in his hand, crumpled and crushed. "How long have you known?!"

"Greywulf, p-please calm down. We d-don't know what-"

"No! Don't you dare lie to me! Not again, and definitely not about this!!" he screamed, Dynaheir glancing at the door she had just barred nervously. "Greywulf, thou must calm. Whatever has troubled you, bringing the whole Iron Throne down upon us will not help."

"You want to know what's wrong, ask them." he seethed, throwing the ball of paper at Jaheira's feet. Galmarath watched as it bounced once against her boot, the druid watching before turning her gaze back to the shaking young man, her own expression filled with... what? Sadness? Regret? He watched as she sought for words... but he knew what she would say. Somehow he knew- "We've always known. Ever since we met you in the Friendly Arm Inn."

"I knew it." he snarled. "You've lied to me since the beginning. I trusted both of you, and you've done nothing but play me for a fool this whole time! This whole damn time, I thought you were my friends. That you actually cared about me! You self-righteous bastards. You weren't here to protect me. You were here to watch me. To kill me in case I turned out like that madman Sarevok."

"Greywulf, I don't understand." Imoen pleaded, finally getting him to look at her. "What happened? What's going on?"

"A letter from Gorion." he spat, gesturing to the paper on the ground. "It told me everything. What I am."

Galmarath didn't need to hear the rest; he mouthed the words as he heard them spoken from this vision's warped version of him. "A Bhaalspawn."

The confrontation before him faded, and he was left with nothing but the pain and the forest. It was worse now; he dropped to one knee, letting out short cries of pain with each beat of his heart. The sound of roaring water rushed through his hearing, and he could swear he felt blood welling up in his ears... how had he known? How did he know all these things? Why were they so familiar? The three intruders. They were behind this. He squinted, forcing one eye open as the blurry world before him finally made itself into something visible- there. The path, just a few dozen yards off. If he could make it there, he could find his way back to town, back to his home, back to safety; he put one foot in front of the other, slowly but steadily pushing onward. He had made it no more than a few steps before he heard her voice again.

"The pain's getting worse, isn't it? It must be almost unbearable."

"I'll kill you for this, I swear." he half-growled, half-screeched, shaking as he tried to keep moving, doing his best to ignore the words around him. "If you're going to kill me, do it and be done."

"I told you before, we're not your enemies." The older warrior's voice floated through the air too; so they were all here. Good. No surprises or sneak attacks. If they were going to torment him, they might as well all see the results of their work. "The pain is your mind trying to displace the fake memories you've created with the ones from the real world. You remember snippets, little flashes here and there... but you have to accept it as well. You have to want to remember. Please Greywulf... just try."

"I'm not who you say I am!" he screamed, grasping at his head as the voices echoed all around him. "Get away from me!"

For a moment the voices stilled, and he thought he might have driven them off- there was an audible sigh, and he heard the voice of his own wife, his Aerie, echo in his ears. "I'm sorry, Greywulf. I know this will hurt. Forgive me."

A white light burned before him, enveloping the world once more... and once more he traveled through time and space, moving without taking a single step. Everything came into focus again, but instead of a warm fire inside a library, or the cold sheets of rain from his previous visions... this time there was dust. Clouds of dust and dirt, obscuring his vision and forcing him to cover his mouth to simply breathe or move, but he could not stay there. Something was wrong. A familiar voice floated across the wind... Im. No... Imoen. That was her name. The pain intensified, but his blood chilled as he listened to her words.

"You're not going to torture us any longer!"

The pain grew worse with every passing moment, but his mind exploded with panic. Something was about to happen. Something that would lead to the worst moments of his life... he couldn't let it happen, whatever it was. He pushed his way through rubble and smoke, hearing the inevitable come to pass before him, cold, calculating words following Imoen's. "Torture? Silly girl, you just don't understand what I'm doing, do you?"

Beads of sweat poured down his face as the situation played out in his mind, followed by reality. By the time he heard the flashed of teleportation magic, he had burst through the smoke and sighted the weary survivors standing across from the mad wizard Irenicus, both sides taken by surprise by the intrusion of the Cowled Wizards. It wouldn't help though. He knew it... they'd... what would they do? He stepped forward again, but shrieked as a lance of pain brought him to his knees. Tears were squeezed out of his eyes as he watched wizard after wizard fall to Irenicus' might, before he said something... something that made them stop. He raised his arms in submission, but his eyes lost none of their pride, their fire... and he was staring at Imoen with a sneer. Her face fell, her expression changing to abject terror. One man moved to take her by the arm... take her. Take her. They were going to take her-

Galmarath pushed himself to his feet, memory shooting through his mind. They were going to take Imoen. No. Not this time. This time he'd stop it, even if his head felt like it would explode under the increasing pressure and pain- He vaulted forward, barely hearing himself call her name... only to pass right through her as he tumbled into a large tree, the world around him vanishing and leaving behind the wood he had originally been in. The world spun, but when it finally cleared, he found himself looking up at three figures, each one looking down at him with a mixture of hope and wariness on their faces. He recognized her first off... "Imoen?"

"You know me. You know me again..." she fell to his side, embracing him tightly. "Greywulf, we've missed you so much..."

"Yes, I... I remember you all." he said, but his voice was low. Not angry, not cold... just low. Hollow. Imoen slowly let go, sensing something was wrong. She stood with him as his haunted eyes looked them over. "You shouldn't have come here. Any of you."

"We didn't have a choice." Aerie explained, meeting the inexplicable sadness in his features with the hope in hers. "We couldn't leave you in this place-"

"But you should have. You should've left me in here. While I'm here you're safe. I can't use the taint to hurt anyone; I can't change into the Slayer... I'm not a Bhaalspawn here. I'm just a mortal with a normal life and a home." Something in his voice cracked; he turned from them, his fist clenched. "I'm sending you three back... but I'm not coming with you. This is my home now."

"Greywulf, no!" Imoen cried out, taking him by the arm. "You can't mean that! This place isn't real! None of it is-"

"It's real enough for me!" he retorted, trying to fight the shakiness that was rapidly overtaking his limbs, his voice... and resolve. "Don't you understand, Imoen? This place is... it's what I always wanted. Deep down... all I ever wanted was peace. I finally found it here."

"Then you'd sacrifice the world for your own little corner of 'heaven'? I never thought you so selfish." Keldorn's voice cut in, his eyes narrow and unforgiving as he stared Galmarath down. "Do you see what your own desires have wrought? Sarevok's the Lord of Murder. Gorion, Khalid, Jaheira... all dead. The Order, destroyed. Dynaheir dead. Minsc, nothing but a shell of a man, consumed by his own rage. Everything you ever wanted, right? Shall I tell you how Imoen fares in the world you always wanted? The Laughing Death. That's what they called her. Your own sister..."

Galmarath trembled as he looked down at Imoen, the girl's eyes wide as she clutched him tightly. "Please, Greywulf. Come back with us. We need you... I need you." He closed his eyes tight, his fists clenched as those words and the memories of everything, both worlds ran through his mind. Seconds passed... a full minute... two minutes, no sound but that of their breathing... Greywulf opened his eyes. "You win."

"Then you'll come back-?" Aerie asked cautiously, her spirit soaring as he nodded. His face was still dark, his expression downcast... but she could see it. Galmarath was gone... Greywulf was back. "I feel the power of this world's entrances and exits. I can send you... us, back again at any time."

"Then we should go immediately. Minsc and Jaheira are undoubtedly still awaiting our return. If time in this world is anything like time in reality, they've been waiting for days." Keldorn said grimly.

"I'll send you three now... but I can't go. Not right away, I mean." he added, noting their sudden concern. "Don't worry... it's not a trick. I'll come back... but there's something I have to do first. Alone."

"Then I'll stay here with you until you do come back." Imoen offered, reaching out to him again- but she vanished before her fingertips could reach him, as did Keldorn and Aerie, their forms fading as they left the gem's fantasy and slowly returned to the real world. Greywulf watched them fade, then turned his eyes back toward the path that led to what had once been Athkatla. He took a deep breath... then began walking.

X X X X X X X

The tiny bell hung on the door rung slightly as he entered the store and home; he glanced up at it, trying to keep his composure. It was just one of the tiny details, the little moments and things he would miss. Would forever regret leaving. The sound of footsteps echoing on the wood flooring reached his ears, and as the form of Aerie, holding a small baby girl in her arms came into view, Greywulf's mouth went dry, his whole body trembling.

"You're back soon." she remarked, a smile crossing her pale features. "I'm glad... you know how she misses you while you're gone."

Greywulf didn't move; he remained rooted to the spot, his mouth opening and closing as though trying to say something, but the words just wouldn't come. How could he break her heart like this? How could he do it when every fiber of his being told him to run to her side and to his baby girl... "Galmarath? Galmarath, are you all right?"

Aerie's face had shifted from peaceful joy to worry as he remained still, his wife slowly crossing the distance between them to place one pale hand on his cheek. "I've never seen you look so... so torn. Confused."

He didn't flinch when her fingers brushed across his cheek- no matter how much he longed to embrace her, to lean in and kiss her lips and hold his daughter high... he couldn't. If he gave in now he'd never go back. It was now or never. "Aerie... you know how much I love you."

She nodded, uneasy as he searched for the words to say, his eyes going everywhere but her own gaze. "You... you've been everything I could have ever wanted in a wife. I could never have come this far... done what I have, without you at my side. I'd never have found the joy... never have been a father. My little Torie..."

He couldn't help but laugh as her hands grabbed one of his fingers, clutching at them as he tried unsuccessfully to hold back the tears that were coming. "You two are everything to me. Everything, and I'd do anything for the two of you."

"Galmarath, what's wrong?" Aerie said, her face finally showing the fear she undoubtedly felt. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying... I need to say..." he felt his throat tighten, and for a moment, he felt he couldn't do it. He turned his head away, taking a step away from the two girls there before him... then said it. "I have to go. The three men and women who came a few days ago... they were right. About me. I don't belong here, not in this world. I'm needed elsewhere, and as much as I hate it... I can't just ignore it. I can't hide here. I have to leave this place... and I have to leave you. I love you so much- goodbye."

Aerie's eyes opened wide and she reached out for him- he choked out one last sentence before everything around him faded, disappearing into the mist. "Forgive me..."

X X X X X X X

The sound of the Riddle Imp humming and talking to himself provided an ambient noise for the room as the six adventurers made ready to move, gathering their gear and preparing to finish this last leg of the Spellhold dungeon. As it had turned out, three days had passed while Minsc and Jaheira waited, never leaving the gem or the sides of their comatose companions. Their injuries had healed in that time, and needless to say, when Imoen, Aerie, and Keldorn had come out of it without Greywulf, the two had been sorely tempted to go right then and there, and make their best attempts at bringing the sorcerer out. Still, they had been convinced to wait; half and hour later Greywulf had emerged, fully in control of his memory, his mind... and his taint.

Despite a few weak smiles and assurances of his well-being, he had said little or nothing to his friends in the time he had spent back in the real world. Minsc glanced over at the sorcerer, stuffing a few last things into his pack before slinging it over his shoulder, bracing himself on the quarterstaff he carried. He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate- he could still see their faces, the shock of his betrayal as he left them there, abandoned them-

"Greywulf? Are you... are you okay?" the sound of Aerie's voice, her worried tones... so much like the ones of his wife were too much for him to bear. He turned, a fury crossing his features.

"Okay? Do you... do any of you have the slightest clue what you made me lose? What I had to give up to come back to this hell?! I had parents who loved me... a wife, and a daughter! I had a life where I wasn't being chased or hunted every day, where I could come home at night to a family that loved me and cared about me. No fighting, no war, no bloodshed... just peace!" he raged, Aerie drawing back with one hand over her mouth, the others quickly coming to her side in case his fury took over... in case the Slayer took over.

"Do you know how it feels, to remember all of it? To remember my little girl, to remember my wedding day... and to know it was nothing more than a lie? To know that I didn't have to fight this taint that strangles my soul every waking moment for a time... this taint that if I gave into it right now, would kill each and every one of you for the pain you've caused me."

Aerie could say nothing; she only bowed her head in shame, unable to meet the hurt in his eyes. Finally, a voice none had really expected spoke up. "We understand."

Greywulf looked up at Minsc, the mammoth ranger stepping forward gravely as he put his hand on the sorcerer's shoulder. "How could you, Minsc? How could any of you-"

"Keldorn... he knows what it is, to lose a child." Minsc glanced at the paladin, then smiled sadly. "Jaheira knows how it feels to lose a husband. And while Minsc cannot know those things... he knows despair. The want to give up, to hide from the pain. Minsc almost gave up when Dynaheir died. But... you were there for him. And so was Imoen. And Jaheira, and then Aerie and Keldorn. We are here, Greywulf. We are here for you."

Greywulf listened... he leaned back against the wall, shaking his head as he put one hand over his face. "Gods... you're right. You're right, Minsc. And I've been in darkness for too long- I almost lost my way."

Minsc smiled comfortingly as he helped their leader to his feet again, his gaze resting on those who followed him once more. It was different this time. No despair in his eyes. No desperate longing for memories past. Just the commanding presence and the man who had always been there for them before. "Let's go. Irenicus has a lot to answer for."

The crew filed out of the room, following the Riddle Imp as he barked little tunes and musical notes. Keldorn was at the end of the line, though he glanced to his side, noting Jaheira had slowed long enough to sidle up beside him. He noted the worried look in her eyes; he spoke once, hoping to allay the fears he knew she carried. "It would appear he is in control of his taint once more... I see no sign of the Slayer reemerging any time soon. Whatever hell he has pushed himself through, I think he has emerged stronger for it. Would you not agree?"

"Perhaps…" Jaheira whispered reluctantly.

"What is it, Jaheira?" Keldorn asked in a low tone, glancing ahead to ensure that the others were out of earshot. "What do you want to say?"

"Without his soul, without that buoy against the taint of his blood… the urge, the evil within for blood will be that much stronger for him to fight. It… it is entirely possible he could fall." Jaheira said, struggling to say the words. "If he does… if the taint claims him, and he becomes the Slayer for good… how far are we willing to go? What are you willing to do to stop him, if it comes down to it?"

"What must be done." Keldorn said grimly, not hesitating a moment with his answer. "Aerie, Minsc, even Imoen… they love him and will be hard pressed to hurt him if need be. You and I… we will do what needs to be done."

"What needs to be done." she whispered, looking at Greywulf's back as they continued on. "What must be done."