A/N: Welcome back, dear reader.
Hecharna has outgrown her original confines in terms of the fic rules I set down for myself. Originally, I had thought to have someone steal her gold at the Ducal palace and send her down the warpath, but that was before the final three chapters of where we last left off. So instead, we are skipping straight to my underlying plan, an AU take on things, because I think we can all agree that SoD is simply not for Hecharna, or indeed, Skie after befriending Hecharna. At least, not for a while. And, as amusing as it might be for Hecharna to solo Durlag's Tower, or a certain island, especially in her current state, I feel that it really rather draws things out than moves the true narrative along. That doesn't mean it won't happen, just that I have not planned for it now.
So, without further ado, let us proceed into Hecharna, BGII AU.
Prologue, part I
She fled Candlekeep, the catacombs, the coves. A foolishness she knew, but Firebead Elvenhair had always offered... chores, irrelevant and unwanted counsel, doddering speeches, but at least he had never turned her away. Maybe he was a doppelganger, but she hadn't seen him there during one of his perodic visits. He was a friend of Gorion, possibly a harper. Either way, she had no one left now, no further ties. He was the last, and maybe, just maybe she could spend a night or two in his home, just enough to get her bearings, to adjust to her new form. It was too much to hope he might take her on as his apprentice, but maybe he had never offered because she had never shown any interest. Kagain's shop was just across the way, and if any of them missed the rendezvous, this was where they'd go.
It was foolish, but she wanted to catch a glimpse of them one last time, to perhaps have her mind changed, for all of it to just go away, to awaken elsewhere, somewhere.
So timidly, she rapped against the elven mage's door; it creaked open as he stepped aside. Her, a half elven boy with the tips of her ears split and pinned, for all the world looking like a fourteen year old human. She didn't think to question the ease of which she gained entry, how the green robes and sagely face simply accepted her. Such relief filled her, the warmth of the hearth, that she forgot everything for but a moment.
Slowly, she wheeled, hands by her sides, chin down, eyes lifted in mimicry of a pathetic puppy, a child. Eyes of shining blue, ice blue all but swallowed her.
"I -" she began, then stopped, tilting her head. Had they always been such a vivid blue?
"Yes, god child?"
She blinked at the chilly, proud intonation, each syllable laden with aloof contempt. Did he know it was her, even through her disguise? He must. Was he acknowledging a kinship, a debt to Gorion? "I... I want to study, for you to take me on." There, she said it and somehow, it felt good, the relief, to just pass off the questioning, the doubt.
"And so you shall, god child."
"Thank-"
"Silence." That one word cracked across the room, and then she noticed the elf's hands flicking in deft patterns; she sensed the gathering of the Weave, the build up leaving goosebumps. It happened so quickly that her mouth opened, her eyes expanded, and then a blast of something struck her straight in the chest, the impact doubling her over. She saw her hand outstretched, splaying, reaching and then... Imoen? Darkness engulfed her.
.