Consequences

They made it to the camp they set in the forest last night in less that two hours, rushed by every haste spell collectively known. Firewood was gathered and provisions left untouched when they were away, benefits of a good hidden location and a diviner in the party. A good thing too, given that though mostly not wounded, except for a few minor scratches, burns and bruises, they were all utterly exhausted.

All but Imoen, very lively now that she was alive again.

"Sit." Imoen pointed her sister at the stump near the cold fireplace. The elf sat, first turning to the logs and igniting them with an easy cantrip. After two hours to process what happened, she was yet to feel anything. She knew what she did was wrong – she failed to stop the assassination, then betrayed her sister's trust and hurt her to correct that mistake. And it was the right thing to do – she saved Imoen, she did it. Despite all the odds, she did it. It was done now, the past solidified in this shape. A good shape, she couldn't help but think. Regrets were useless now.

"Child, what on nature's..." Jaheira began.

"No. Me." Imoen interrupted. The druidess sighed and began to take off her badly dented armor. And if Jaheira had no strength to argue, you knew she was dead-tired.

"What did you do?" Imoen asked again, pointing a finger at Daria. She was calmer now, but still visibly irked. The rest of the group began to toss off their equipment possibly quietly, not to miss a single word. None of them were wary of Daria. None of them watched her, trying to hide this, careful of her every move. It wasn't like the time she became the Slayer. This was her choice. A choice to kill Imoen. Imoen, who was now fine. How to adequately explain what had happened?

"The future took a bad turn that would end with your death, Immy. I couldn't stop it. So I killed you and absorbed your portion of the essence, so I could revive you, without Bhaal's taint. Like I previously did with Sarevok."

"And why did you do it?" Imoen still seethed.

"Which part isn't clear?" Daria asked, before realizing she sounded like a complete buffoon.

"You cheeky little brat! You stabbed me! Me! Why? How could you?!"

"I saw no other way" was all Daria could say. That was the truth. Imoen was her ward, her precious little sister. She'd do everything to save her. She even made herself capable of killing her, because she saw that it would work. "It saved you. So I did it." She breathed out. How could she explain that those few hours of battle, most of which they'd forget, attention always focused on the enemy at hand, for her were a days long struggle? Over a hundred hours spent in this pandemonium, analyzing every detail, planning every move. In a week it would be as important as last fall's leaves for them. They all made it out alive. No losses. How very lucky.

"Well, if you think that's enough, that good old Imoen is just gonna let it go – water under the bridge! - without as much as a 'sorry'!"

"I'm sorry."

"That's not good enough!" Imoen shouted. Daria felt her trying to burgle into her head. She sighed. Imoen huffed. "You are taking me shopping" the pink-head decided. "I need new clothes and a disguise, if I'm to play possum!"

"Of course."

"And no more divining! It messed you up! You're taking a break. Seriously!"

"I need it to keep you safe."

"You stabbed me, that's not very safe!"

"I..." Daria felt something break inside her, something precious and not easily replaceable. Outwardly she only breathed deeper, but Imoen saw what finally broke. Her eyes turned sharp. "That's it. We're getting you drunk. We're finding a pretty little inn with a nice supply of ale, you're checking if it's not a cannibal den – a sweet and short check – and then we're partying until you can't see straight anymore. Dancing also. Maybe we'll get laid, too."

"Immy, that's..."

"Am I hearing 'I don't want your forgiveness?' Am I, Daria? Is that what you are saying?!"

The elf pursed her lips.

"The Five won't wait for us to make their move."

"They will bloody wait a month if they have to. We'll kick their asses soon enough!"

"...alright" Daria felt like agreeing to this plan was already a loss.


The camp was too quiet. The battle was still raging in Daria's head and after a short nap she stirred and couldn't fall back to sleep. Yaga Shura was still staring at her, hateful, Maya in the shadows, stalking Imoen, Abazigal hidden among the clouds, waiting for an opportunity to dive back down. Blood on her hands peeling off… but not really, and not just Imoen's. Most of the citizens of Saradush died that day, but the diviner knew some of the bravest took a leap of faith. They opened the northern gates of the city and hacked their way through the siege to escape. About a hundred lives spared from an entire city. What a weak triumph.

Sarevok glared at her from where he kept tonight's watch. In the end he asked for help and now he hated Daria for it. He clearly thought she set the stakes against him, arranged all this spectacle to show him how weak he was. She snorted. Her brother clearly overestimated her influence on his actions. Anomen was the other person awake. Something changed about him recently, but Daria couldn't tell what. For the last week she barely spoke to anyone. She knew nothing about how they dealt with the stress of being stuck in a battle to choose the next God of Murder. In a way, she abandoned them.

After a beautiful promise she did nothing to help Solaufein as he trekked the woods, surrounded by environment completely alien and full of unknown dangers. She promised herself to curb Sarevok, but did nothing, just making sure he'd survive his own ideals of power. And… she really wanted to try to salvage a friendship with Xan. If her life was to end with this war, leaving things off like that with him would be the heaviest of her regrets.

The moon elf slept, his bedroll the furthest away from the fire. Hopefully he wasn't cold, or his health was not likely to get better any time soon. Daria took an extra blanket and made her way to her resting friend, quietly, not to interrupt his reverie.

Tears flowing freely on his face startled her for a moment. She came closer, holding up a blanket as a ready excuse.

She should have noticed one more thing sooner. Xan wasn't getting that sick from just the weather. Guilt was eating away at him, and she didn't see, didn't look… The very same guilt and pity that wrote poems in the lines of his face, whenever they talked. The same that now kept him from restful reverie. The very same she knew she was using against him, the reason he was here, instead of back in Evereska. Everything to make up for hurting her, his friend, to make her feel better again. Everything? Yes… After all, she was still the foolish girl he grew attached to, taught and protected. The girl that could make him tell her he loved her once… And perhaps again? All she had to do was to ask, just for a short while, to pretend again… To make her divinations easier – a ready lie… To hold her, kiss her… Lie to, give himself to, a person he didn't love but wanted to make happy… Just so he could stop punishing himself for an error in judgment. What did it matter if he had to pretend for a few days more, she wondered. The lie was so sweet. Just until it was over for her. It'd be a good deed.

He clearly underestimated how much she loved him from the very start, that was his only misdeed. Now if he told her he would do it again, he wouldn't even have to lie that much. Just not say 'no'. She'd fill the silence, imagine all the tender moments and confessions, make believe...

If only her touch didn't scare him so. She would do it. If only he hadn't seen what was inside her. She would. If only she wasn't what she was. She…

'I'll try to make it better' she promised him, covering the sleeping silhouette with a blanket. His hand was cold, she checked, touching as lightly as she could. He needed more care. 'I'll make time for us to talk and I swear, if I can do anything before...' She paused, seeing Xan's features softening, tears stopping. 'For you, I'll do anything I can.'


He couldn't guess why she insisted on dancing with him, when there were so many others more eager and capable. The ball at the Grand Duke's Palace in Baldur's Gate had more willing bachelors than even she could run into ground and yet she consistently fished him out of the crowd he tried to escape into. He resigned himself to the thought that it was his resistance that made him so attractive a target, for such a mischievous spirit. That meant he was not getting his well deserved rest before tomorrow's journey.

The moon was already high on the night sky, when the ball was finally over and he offered his arm to walk her to the inn where they set up their base. She clung to him a little closer that strictly necessary, so he let go to offer her his cloak, which she hesitantly accepted. For a moment they walked in silence.

"Xan... Do you know how it is to want something impossible very badly... To know that something is beyond your reach and still not be able to let it go?"

"Of course" he sighed. His student gotten much more serious since she learned about her heritage. For him it was a shock, but he couldn't even imagine how it changed her view on who she was. To realize you were so fundamentally different that what you perceived yourself as… To learn of an evil of such a magnitude sown in, somewhere inside… How she was able to remain the same happy girl was beyond him, but the truth weighted down on her and every now and then, she would ask a question, that would be completely out of character only a month ago. Losing so much in such a short amount of time... Her home, her father, her childhood and even a part of her very identity… There was no way he could invite her to Evereska like he planned now, he knew that too. Indeed, there were many things she couldn't have anymore.

"Does it get easier at some point?"

"No."

"Oh." He didn't think she expected any other answer from him. He cleared his throat.

"But if I may say... With time you learn to accept it as an unchangeable truth. It still hurts and it's still difficult, but when you stop struggling against it... Futile hope for change hurts as much as the loss itself and at least that you can let go of."

The girl, barely old enough not to be called a child looked at him with sadness and he knew she didn't understand, not yet. She was far too young not to cling to life, to accept how irrevocably doomed she was and it was a curse much more than a blessing, because sooner or later life would force that lesson on her.

"Xan..." she let out a deep sigh looking away for a moment, but when her eyes met his again, she was finally smiling. Though her eyes looked slightly glassy. "I had a lovely time. Thank you. For everything."

"Goodnight, my friend." She didn't turn to him again, disappearing in the room she shared with her foster sister.

It was still bitter, but there was some sweetness in this dream.