The Last Symphony of Saradush II
"So, what's the plan?" Sarevok was the first who dared to ask. Since the time she sang them a lovely anthem for Bhaal, Daria didn't speak a word, diving back into the future, the very same that they now stood on the precipice of. Looking down from a hill, Saradush withered away below, a smoking, burning camp slowly crushing it in a vice grip. The elf looked at her friends, her eyes violet. Hopefully that meant she saw them.
"You won't bother following it, so why ask?" Daria scoffed. Jaheira let out a quiet sigh of relief. She quickly covered it up.
"What do we do child? There's an entire army out there and many mages. We prepared the spells you asked us to, but Yaga-Shura's giants are still more powerful than us in one on one fight. And there's more of them."
Daria breathed in. And out. She needed to center the raging stream of thoughts into a cohesive plan. The right order of events was there, now to arrange it chronologically…
"In an hour, the east gate will break and the giants will pour into the city walls. The defenders will engage most of them, blocking them in the broken gate, slowing them down. They will succeed, though not for long. Yaga-Shura will send his troops forth and make preparations to join them. He's not careful – he handles all the assassins by just surviving them – so he'll be mostly alone. That's when we strike, kill him and freeze as much of the camp as we can, then retreat. We will have to get through a few obstacles, but leave those to me."
"That's all?" Sarevok laughed. "That was what kept you walking like a zombie for a week?"
"Don't you start, moron! You have no idea how much effort it'll take to keep you breathing through the first five minutes! Xan, Imoen, we may start with defensive spells by the way. This moron here will eat through most of them, so he'll need extras. Anomen – especially fire resistance and regeneration. And Jaheira, I need a very specific weather pattern. All clouds, but with sun breaking through in exactly and hour and half. Can you do it?" Daria asked, despite knowing full well, that Jaheira could. The diviner was so pumped up on adrenaline, she felt ready to burst. The battle she studied with so much detail was finally upon her, right in her face, there. She was terrified and excited, scared of the future and ready for it. She hoped she wouldn't mess up, for Imoen's sake. She saw herself doing it, but doing it herself was different… or wasn't. She was panicking a little. She had to focus. Deep breaths.
"I'll need to make an adjustment in an hour, but I can change the weather right now" the druidess answered.
"Do it. Imoen – make yourself completely storm-proof. You shouldn't need it, but just in case. And keep a projectile protection on at all times. Xan..."
The moon elf sneezed.
"Yes?"he asked, discretely wiping his nose with a handkerchief.
"How… are you sick? You drank the medicine Jaheira gave you, you got no night watches…?" Daria asked in an almost offended tone.
"Were it not for those potions, pneumonia would have killed me already, I assume. As it is, it's just a cold. Don't worry. My health was never stellar. Concentrate on the battle ahead."
"Tell me, if you feel worse, alright?" she worried anyway. "Sol, keep an eye out, would you?"
The drow nodded. Xan sighed, slightly irritated hearing the nickname.
"Fair warning, there will be a dragon, but ignore him and keep fighting."
"A dragon?" Minsc's eyes shone.
"Yes, but I will take care of him."
"...how?"
"Not important. You have an army to focus on. Remember – warriors plunge forth, we get to Yaga-Shura and make a stand. Xan, Imoen – I told you to get as many blizzards and ice spells ready. When you see a giant with a scull and tears pendant, use them to create an arena, separating ourselves from the main army…" Catching her mid-sentence, dust fell in her eyes. The scenery changed, speeding up to show her a battle raging around her, soot and gravel crunching under her shoe when she took a step back, surprised. In the middle of a ring of her party, her friends, they were taking a stand against the overwhelming forces of the fire giant army.
But there was no time to analyze the situation, Sarevok was getting pummeled to the ground. She gave him a fighting chance, slowing some of the giants and soldiers doing the pummeling. Now the regenerative spells on her half-brother's had a chance to catch up. It was clear even to a moron, that he charged too far outside the formation Daria set for their group and bit way more than he could chew with his chosen enemies. But there was no 'please, help me' yet. The diviner smiled a nasty smile. There would be, soon.
The world changed back – but just about twenty minutes. What…? What was happening? Was this a vision? Or was she back from one? She didn't control it and everything felt real. But again, there was little time to think. Daria saw this battle play out so many times she recognized the upcoming moment instantly. She gestured to Jaheira, who just finished summoning a plague of worms upon their enemies. The druidess nodded.
It was an ingrained instinct, really. Most army-drilled archers checked the sun's position among the clouds every so often, to take note of it and pick the best moment to shoot without being blinded. So when the light finally penetrated the clouds, most of them glanced at it. And when they did, most immediately noticed something was afoot.
Maybe it was the clouds, dissipating like no natural clouds ever did, simply disappearing into nothingness, like a summon. Maybe it was the smoke, thinning over a suddenly flash-frozen camp. Or maybe it was a two ton adult blue dragon, rapidly approaching the besieged Saradush.
The horns sounded out the alarm all over the battlefield. The soldiers were forewarned. All mages and archers switched aim. Yaga Shura knew exactly how much his brother's armistice was worth.
The assault on the city gate was halted. The army tried – and failed – to chaotically regroup, to prepare for an attack from the third side. Nonetheless, the group of elite archers, miraculously untouched by all area effect and frost spells Daria's party threw around like glitter, rallied in the pandemonium. Their commander, the notoriously strict tyrant with little patience for insubordination, took control with ease, his men fearing him more than any monster. His archers notched the most potent of their arrows, aimed and as soon as the dragon flew into their range – fired.
Abazigal cursed the fickle clouds. The skies were his kingdom, his sapphire scales – a natural camouflage. Any other day, his pray would remain clueless to an attack even already in his stomach. But on the leaden gray sky choked with smoke and with the sudden break of daylight, his cover had been blown, his brilliant scales suddenly all too visible. And now he had to decide.
His pray was within his sights, her pink hair and characteristic weapon a clear indication. He wouldn't miss her. But to reach her, he'd have to fly over a large portion of the army, now alerted to his presence and clearly ready for it. Archers alone were an irritating nuisance. Mages though… One unlucky spell catching him mid-flight and he might have to engage in a messy ground battle. And Abazigal had no motivation to get stuck fighting thousands, even if only ants. Not for a chance to kill a weakling among the two siblings.
An arrow painfully breaking a scale on his toe helped in making up his mind.
'Next time' he decided. He breathed out a roaring storm on the contingent of giants closest to the edge, to release some of the pent up frustration, turned around and flew off. 'There is always a next time.'
Daria celebrated, seeing him turn tail. She blinked, again blinded by the dust for a split second.
Minsc looked straight at her expectantly with a wide grin, her party mid-preparation. The battle was soon to begin. Daria was completely lost as to what was happening.
"Don't forget to leave the archers alone" she added too much pressure to the sentence, trying to hide the confusion. Was she telling them that, or reminding? Did she explain the plan already? She didn't forget about anything important, did she?
What was failing her? Her memory? Her talent? Her mind?
She would be fine. She had no other choice, at this point. This wasn't another vision, there would be do do-over. She had to get every little detail perfect. Hopefully she wasn't stuck out of sync, battle raging all around while she threw out completely unrelated orders, lost completely… No, no… This felt real. This had to be real. There was dust in her eyes again, tears rolled on her face as she did her best not to blink again. The bright, sparkling dust...
The half-drow… the other soldiers called her 'Maya', obviously not her real name… sat in the tent, sharpening her short-sword for the upcoming battle. She posed as a half-elf, maybe of a sun elf descent, an enchanted powder brightening her gray skin. Her common, as she sneered and joked, bore no melodic accent usual among the elves, including the drow. Her crossbow was custom made and looked like crap, barely held together by wooden patches and strings. The commander of her unit let her keep it, as long as she always took a standard short bow along. Her aim with a crossbow was impressive and besides, he fully expected the piece of scrap metal to fall apart any day now. What he didn't know, was that what he took for defects, were cleverly masked compartments, hiding a small set of poisons, three dispel bolts and three more enchanted with fire, ice and storm. That his best archer was patiently researching all the gossip about his general's supposed immortality and looked for a chance to strike.
As a side mission, if Imoen walked into her field of view, she was to kill her. Daria purposefully exposed herself for an easy strike during one of the visions and survived unscathed. The assassin made no move to attack her. But if there was a moment – any moment during the battle – when Imoen's defensive spells weakened or failed, Maya was there, in the shadows, moving skillfully among Yaga Shura's men, never exposing herself and never losing sight of her target.
Which meant she needed to die before setting eyes on Daria's sister.
The diviner spent hours in trance, watching the half-drow, stalking her, wishing death upon her. In almost every version of that day by Saradush Daria saw, the half-drow survived without a single scratch on her, watchful and cautious, waiting with an icy patience among the fiery inferno and roars of the battle. Imoen was never careful enough, never kept her magical mantles tight enough. Sooner or later, Maya killed. And whether she wanted to or not, Daria learned.
Maya didn't know that, walking out of her tent, hearing the alarm after Daria's party made their move, she was being stalked herself. And her careful steps wouldn't save her from the nasty surprise on the way. As Daria began the spell to set the trap, the world shifted again, showing now the culminating moment of the battle. Again, she adjusted, preparing to act out the carefully prepared part of the plan. The diviner could do nothing more now, but follow the flow and hope.
Yaga Shura was about to die and he knew it. The question was, who would be the killer?
What if the essence literally forces the Bhaalspawn into the conflict? Either by enhancing the natural aggression or simply by allowing to sense and be sensed by others with tainted blood? It gave the power, but there was an unknown price for it. Sarevok seemed to understand it, but no matter how many times she asked him to explain, the words just couldn't give justice to what absorbing divine essence meant. One thing was clear, though. Imoen could not deal the finishing blows. Neither could Sarevok – just in case. He had no Bhaal's essence in his veins after his return to the living, but the ability to absorb it could still remain.
But what happened when a normal person kills a Bhaalspawn? Where does the lost essence go?
To the Throne of Bhaal, Daria already saw in her vision. Not her rotting little corner, but the realm filled to brim with unharnessed power, ready to be taken, pulsating with it, overflowing and unstable. Who would claim it? Was there a remnant of a long dead god, clinging to life, lost somewhere there, waiting for his chance? Who was Daria empowering, releasing her claim on this portion of the essence? She wasn't sure.
That was why, when all his defenses were stripped away and all his allies died, it was her spell that bore a hole in Yaga Shura's heart. It was her, that looked in his eyes, disbelieving to the very end, then empty. The golden dust that his body released blinded her and yet opened her eyes, clearing her mind.
The first thing she focused on, was Maya, hidden near the top of the icy barrier they created, having climbed atop with unnatural dexterity. The half-drow was there, still alive. Daria didn't finish the spell that was meant to kill her. And the diviner could bet her very spirit, that Imoen forgot to refresh her defensive spells. Which meant Daria failed to change the future.
She could dispel the icy barrier. Not enough time. Shout at Imoen to cast a Stoneskin at least. Not enough to stop a poisoned bolt. She could cover Imoen with her own body, but she was shorter and the smallest opening was enough for the assassin to leave a scratch poisonous enough to be deadly, leading Imoen to a painful agony in her sister's arms. Daria saw it happen enough times, so many…
She'd see it once more in few seconds. She should be terrified, but the brutal truth was, she felt nothing. She got used to it. Which meant there was one more thing she could do.
"I'm sorry, sis." A split second was all Daria needed for one last vision. It showed exactly what she expected.
"Wha?" Imoen turned to face her. There was but a poor attempt of 'shield from storm' left from her defensive spells. She didn't refresh her protection from missiles. The word slowed down, as if drowned, each movement deliberate and slow. Daria drew her knife and stabbed her sister in the heart, putting all her strength in the thrust.
"Ugh…" Imoen's face contorted, she didn't understand. The assassin far behind them hesitated for a moment, but notched the bolt and sent it flying. The string sung and the projectile found the thief's eye, doing nothing. It couldn't kill someone who was already dead.
It was real.
It didn't feel real.
Daria held Imoen's suddenly all too heavy body, leading it gently to the ground. It was a quick and painless death, she saw much worse before. She saw Imoen kicking and screaming in pain, she saw her bleeding out, trying to stop the red flowing out the wound, in vain. She saw a lot of ways her sister never died, events that weren't even the past now, just a dull routine that lead to this moment, the only real one and yet exactly the same. It was done now. Imoen stared with the only remaining eye into the sky, seeing nothing. Soon her body began to crumble into dust, blood flaking off of Daria's hands, removing all traces of guilt. Her sister's soul joined the gathered essence.
But all of her party saw what happened.
"Dar… ia?" Jaheira had a weapon in her hand, a mace covered in giant's blood. The instinct to hold it up against an attacker clashed with the one to put it down at the sight of her foster-daughter. None of them knew what to do.
Daria did. There was a plan she just created and following it felt easy like drawing a line from A to B to C… As the golden dust settled in her arms and faded, she gathered all her sister's belongings and escaped to her pocket plane.
"What did you do? What the hell did you do, Daria?" Imoen greeted her, furious, and tried to shove her, hard. She couldn't, a pale, translucent visage as she was, completely helpless in her sister's domain. Another ghost, just like Sarevok.
"I know, Immy, wait, let me fix..." Daria reached inside to crumble off a piece of her spirit, to add it like fuel to this realm, to make it obey. "Please, let me..." she mumbled, not really knowing what to say to make what she did any less horrible. All she could do was to burn, ignite the spark of life anew in a soul she had trapped in the pocket plane and make Imoen live again, like she did before with Sarevok and Solaufein. There was no better way. Her sister would live – not a Bhaalspawn anymore, but a normal human being, with a future she could choose.
"Wait! What are you doing now?!" Immy yelped as feeling, color and life filled her once again. Her face blushed with life. And then embarrassment. So far only Sarevok emerged from this process fully clothed. Immy tried to cover herself up with her hands. "Daria, what the hell?!"
"It going to be fine now, Immy" Daria answered, feeling surprisingly little joy. It hurt to do this, but not in a physical sense. She felt drained and empty. Perhaps she used up the wrong part of her spirit. "You are going to be normal now, like Sarevok."
"Normal. Like Sarevok. Right." The pink thief grabbed her stuff from diviner's arms and quickly pulled on a tunic, shoes and armor, not bothering with clasps or even a most basic spell to protect herself. It hurt, her carelessness, her stupidity… As if feeling Daria's disapproval, Imoen corrected the armor.
"I'm going to check if it's safe now" Daria took a look at the battlefield, to see Maya dead, buried under the ice crushed by a well used fireball wand. More giants were coming, but her party was in a disarray, arguing.
"Whoah!" And Daria was not the only one seeing that. Imoen clearly got in for the ride. Like Solaufein before her, she now had the back entrance to Daria's mind. And unfortunately none of his manners and restraint. Daria pulled her freshly revived sister back to the material plane, trying to distract her. Curiosity, cunning and a bit of well deserved cruelty showed on Imoen's face. There was no way Daria could possibly stop her.
"Heya, it's me!" Imoen landed on her feet and rolled with it, greeting their stunned team back in the land of the living.
"The rest of the army will be here any moment. We must go!" Daria didn't wait for questions or comments. She cashed in on any trust her friends had for her, hoping it would buy her enough time to get them all to safety, where she could explain. The path of their escape was planned beforehand, the camp was well hidden.
An inquisitive presence in her mind was already probing all her surface thoughts. Daria cleared her mind of anything but escape.
