Last of the Five
"This isn't your victory!" Sendai screeched as Daria let her last spell end. It was done. Her sister was dying in a cage of light and energy, nothing she could say or do could change that. No futures with her surviving remained, meticulously shaved off, one by one. Daria stared, feeling it all strangely impersonal… this ending of a life. Her half-sister never learned how arduous their battles were to the diviner, how long the conflict lasted for one whose every day could last a thousand hours, a prism of countless visions focused on every facet of a conflict. Each assassin, each ambush, each poison, a trove of information and a trap to dismantle at a slow pace. For all the drow Bhaalspawn knew, Gorion's ward easily bested her troops, fooled her into lowering her guard and then struck. It wasn't so, and yet for all that saw it from the outside…
"I'm sorry." The diviner took a step back and her sister was obliterated. Such an arrogant pity. It didn't matter for someone who ceased to exist. There would be no angry ghost to curse her or a memory to take to the afterlife, all that remained of Sendai, Daria would take as her own. Her sire's essence, nothing remining of a Child that no longer existed.
Her party took a step back, waiting for what would come next. For a moment Daria worried Jaheira might try to do something to stop it, but the druidess remained silent and still. A rush of pure power, her sire's essence entering her bloodstream quickly wiped those worries from diviner's head.
'Remain humble' she reminded herself. 'Remain caring.' But it was an empty remainder, when she couldn't tell what this meant. What actions mean she was caring – if protecting her friends wasn't it? And how 'humble' was any different from 'self-conceited', when wielding the power of a god?
Before being struck by the last spell Sendai was trying to get to the lever that would cause the entrance to cave system collapse – she didn't make it that far. Daria's friends knew nothing of the danger – and truly there wasn't one. In none of the visions the drow Bhaalspawn made it near enough. There were many little distractions like that on the way, but was it a truly good idea to let her party know of each one? Was it 'humble'? 'Caring'? All Daria knew, it was risky – a moment of hesitation sniped in a bud.
"What should I do?" she kept asking Xan in the night, comfortable in his arms, her safe haven. He was probably tired of this question already, and she rarely took the advice he gave, but he kept answering.
"Melamin, I know Jaheira told you not to treat us as pawns… I understand the sentiment, I do. It may be read as… degrading, to an extent. So, I believe you are going to try to change your approach to divining… Please don't. Each and every one of us placed our lives in your hands joining this doomed party and you gave plenty of warnings already. Please don't court doom, by questioning your every decision. You are our leader. You are and should be leading us."
"But I don't want to become… I don't want to be careless with your fates. I don't want this to be a routine, where I no longer understand what it's like to feel this moment, when it's happening..." Daria struggled to express her inner conflict.
Xan brushed the hair from her forehead and kissed it. She smiled, the warm, comforting feeling of love blossoming in her chest. She didn't expect it. All she ever hoped for, was for the longing to be gone. She didn't expect this warmth to take it's place. She heard how love was supposed to feel, read it in so many books… But to reach to Xan's face, to kiss him… how it felt, no poems could describe. It was simple and deeply good. And truly, no more words were needed.
"No great power is without it's price, we both know that. Be it Bhaal's blood, an extraordinary talent for divination, or a sword made to serve elven kind. What I wonder is, when the time comes… Will you be able to… Will you want to…" he traced off. Daria looked up, waiting for him to finish. "Nevermind" he smiled weakly and kissed her again. He closed his eyes, hugging her closer, ready for reverie.
'Will I be able to give up this power?' Daria guessed and this question chilled her.
The essence empowered her divinations – her powers grew only after the taint stirred in her blood and she began to use it. Without it – would she willingly agree to become blinded to the future?
The essence healed her, mended broken bones many times over, kept together shattered hands and strengthened scarred muscles. Wouldn't she simply fall apart without it?
The essence let her fight and protect, survive the enemies that came after her blood, but there were many more dangers in this world than just Bhaalspawn. There were cutthroats and brigands, monsters and catastrophes. Could she stand being helpless against them?
No, no and no. She wanted none of those things to happen. She knew that and that was what chilled her to the bone. Xan knew it as well, or at least suspected. That was why he didn't dare to ask.
The day was dry and dusty, but such were all the days in Amkethran. The ever thirsty little town clung to what little shade it could find beneath the stone walls of a monastery, a rock that seemingly fell out of nowhere into the sand, to be tunneled and made home by the generations of monks. There was truly not much more in Amkethran for decades, maybe centuries…? Until one monk came, with taint in his blood.
A path of a monk was not an easy one. It was to endure and overcome – the grueling training that could break your body as much as empower it. The solitude and starvation, the mediation and mental training, to make your mind as much as iron, as your body was to become. It was a life of deprivation, but only that way a monk could grow to become a monolith of strength, inside and out. For that – and perhaps only that – Amkethran was perfect for. That was why Balthazar chose it.
There was little in his life beyond training and it was by design. From the moment he learned of his heritage, when he was thirteen, he vowed to oppose the will of his Sire and eliminate any possibility of his resurrection. That meant abandoning the people that raised him, as well as seeking all knowledge of Bhaal and Alaundo's prophecies he could. That also meant that after exploring every option he could find, he decided that the only way to be certain, was to eradicate all living taint from the realms. Meaning, to kill everyone bearing it, including himself, in the end. This vow was all his life, up to this point.
And Daria couldn't help but feel disappointed with this solution.
"I'm sorry, but this will not work" Gorion's Ward told Baltazar, when they finally met face to face, in the central hall of the monastery. Her party broke through the main gate to get in and he was kind enough to be ready for them.
"We are the last remaining Children. This will end today."
"It will end tomorrow – please leave future telling to me. And your method will not work. The taint doesn't need to be tied to a living host to be gathered, absorbed and used. And someone is already gathering, absorbing and using it."
"I am aware of Melissan's schemes. She will fail. Only those of Bhaal's blood..."
"I think Amelissan the Blackhearted, Bhaal's most trusted Deathstalker, charged with resurrecting her lord, knows what she's doing a bit better than you."
'I knew it!' Daria couldn't help but feel a nasty sort of satisfaction when her wariness towards the protector of Saradush found merit. There was something not quite right with that woman, but she forgot all about it, assuming she perished in Saradush.
Bhaal's Servant decieved, Five lead down a false path,
A hidden traitor lurks in thy midst.
The servant of Bhaal knows death and destruction,
The face of an ally, the mask of foe.
This was the last part of the prophecy… well, second to last, but she heard the last already. There would be no more surprises, no more betrayals. There would be nothing more at all, waiting for her at the end of the path she started, leaving Candlekeep on that fateful day. The very first decision she made was a bad one, a panicked escape – she left Gorion to his death. Daria wondered if she learned enough from this day, because the last decision on this path was drawing near. The last, after countless tests. The last chance to choose, if there would be anything new awaiting her behind the finish line.
"This… changes nothing" Balthazar answered her, losing composure for just a second.
"It changes everything. Our death will not stop the rise of a new God of Murder, but fuel it. You may not trust me, but do not cling to your truth out of fear of being wrong. You are stronger than that, I've seen it."
"I..." Balthazar didn't weaver. In fact, he seemed to face this tide like a rock faces the sea. There was no uncertainty in his eyes. "I believe you. But you are right, I do not trust you. There can be no alliance between us, not when there are only two of the Bhaalspawn left. We will fight and the winner will face Amelissan. And I'm sorry, but it will be me."
"I told you..." Daria released her sequencer, surrounding her with a volley of protective spells, impenetrable to each and every of monk's attacks. She didn't find a way to convince him in any of her visions and she didn't waste energy going through the motions. "Leave future telling to me."
"Tomorrow we enter the Throne of Bhaal." Daria faced her adventuring party after all was said and wind was billowing – a remnant of an unquiet spell on a battleground, bodies of monks all around them. One missing – now only dust… He might have suppressed the essence all his life, but in the end Balthazar was as much a Bhaalspawn as all his siblings. A titanic effort rendered completely worthless… decades of grueling training, abandoning all loved ones, comforts big and small… was it a wasted life? Would Daria's be the same, 'wasted', if she failed? Xan pondered. Was all his, truly, a waste, if they fail?
He came up to his beloved, to check if she wasn't hurt, but no, this time all went according to her plan. She might have been at death's door just a few days ago, but now stood strong and healthy, a paragon of wellness. By no means was that a guarantee of her survival and in no way did it mean that she would stay in this realm with him… Chances were, tomorrow they would part. And he could very well say he wasted most of the time he knew her, by second guessing himself, worrying about each passing second being lost. Even now, he couldn't help but ponder, what would have happened, if he realized how much she would grow to mean to him the moment he saw her for the first time, just like she did. Or that night at Umar Hills, if he accepted the feelings he so suddenly discovered and honestly talked to her the next morning? If all the time they spent together – time that could very well be coming to an end – he spent like that, by her side, able to hold her… But it was useless, wasn't it? Tomorrow they would enter the Throne of Bhaal. And if he truly wasted those two years he was given by her side, he'd better not waste this last day.
It should make him anxious. Terrified even. But just like on Galante, it didn't. Perhaps he grew numb to terror already? But simply holding her hand, knowing he could enjoy the warmth of her skin, the melody of her sighs this evening… There was a saying, that serenity was the first half of happiness. If that was true, he didn't need anything more.
"Where are we going to go, after all of this is over?" she asked him last night. They always talked long into the night now, after taking the time to… enjoy each other. Xan sighed into her hair then, realizing she didn't notice. He wondered it she was keeping quiet trying to spare his feelings, rarely talking about the distant future, or if she simply wanted to avoid saying her goodbyes. But it seemed she remained oblivious to the change he saw in her every day, at first gradual, but after Sendai's death so terrifyingly quick. She didn't notice her own features sharpening, deepening to gain an otherworldly glow, her gaze now barely ever violet, more of a maelstrom of gold and silver, her silhouette somehow more intense than the world around it. Daria was beautiful before, but now he could only watch her like a mortal watches a power of nature, a divine visage without peers. She just could not see, what was clear before his eyes.
A rising goddess.
But he wasn't just ready to say farewell either, still clung to those precious moments they could share. So he humored her, letting imagination run wild, while her short chestnut hair tickled his cheek.
"We could visit Candlekeep, surely finding some tome to satisfy the greedy monks wouldn't be too difficult."
"Do you think I would ever be allowed into Evereska after we destroy Bhaal's Throne?"
After… Not 'if', no doubt, no hesitation whatsoever… His heart dared to hope that it would be that easy and for once he paused before crushing his hopes.
"Well… Queen Ellesime does owe you a favor. I suppose Elminster could also be persuaded to send fourth a good word… It'll take some convincing, but if we clear up all we did with the Vale Guard, I think we may be allowed to move in into our estate."
"'Our' estate?" she looked up to meet his eyes, hers glowing.
"If you'd like" he cleared his throat.
"I would" she answered solemnly, settling back into his arms. A moment passed in a contented silence.
"We could travel from time to time" she murmured, just when he began to wonder if she fell asleep. "I know you have your duties. As long as we stay away from any and all civil unrest."
He hugged her closer, as close as he could without making it uncomfortable. "Just don't go anywhere without me" he tried not to make it sound as if he was begging. Though there was nothing he else he could do, but accept it, should she choose otherwise.
"Never." And empty promise, he knew. Or at least he should have known.
Because Daria he knew never thought about her own wishes first. And while she might not care much for power of a divine itself, she would not be able to ignore the chance to correct wrongs, to protect her friends and to bring more good to the Realms. He truly didn't know what tomorrow would bring. Not a clue. Her life as a Bhaalspawn, a cursed Child, would undoubtedly end. But what would come next? Something new, surely, but what?
"I will enter my pocket plane now and prepare it. I'll be back in about an hour" waking up from his daydreams, Xan watched as the woman he loved disappeared in golden glow, leaving them behind in the now destroyed monastery. He would be able to live with it, he realized that moment. It would hurt… But he could accept his Daria among the Seldarine. As long as she was safe and knew he would always, forever love her.
"Alright then. What are we doing?" Jaheira's voice was sharp as a nail on a glass window.
"Tavern? Drinks?" Imoen shrugged with faked nonchalance and began to walk towards the exit.
Jaheira just narrowed her eyes. "I mean, what are we doing with Daria. She's clearly plotting something, probably in way above her head."
Imoen looked up at a hole in the ceiling smashed in by a magical comet.
"Nah. I think she's got it."
"This is serious! But of course you would act like a child, Imoen. I'd expect you to grow up by now, at least a bit. Xan, Anomen, do you have any ideas?"
"I… don't know" Anomen answered. "I honestly… Lady Jaheira, this is all gods' plan, all according to their design. If they decided not to interfere, if fate marked and shown by Alaundo is set in stone, only to be observed… then do what we choose truly matters? Do we have any free will at all? Would we be able to tell, if we didn't?"
"Bah, what a true imbecile" snapped Sarevok. "If we don't, it doesn't matter. And if you think so, you may stay here with the corpses. Nobody clawed their way back to life for me, I had to fight for everything, since the moment I escaped from Bhaal's Temple. Daria bested me, as all others, so it's fair for her choice to matter most. If you want to force her hand… well, good luck with that."
"All I want, is to make sure she thought things through!" Jaheira protested. "But she stopped writing the dairy and will probably get stuck in her head again soon! And this time it may have by far more severe consequences!"
"I'm worried about her too" Solaufein spoke up. "But I think it is time she decided for her own, what she wants. And I think… I trust her decision. She won't make it lightly."
"Boo agrees! He's very impressed with Daria! And it isn't that easy to impress a space hamster!"
"Xan, you understand at least, don't you?" having found no allies among the party, Jaheira turned to him. "We have to protect her!"
'Of all the People I know, she is the most deserving to stand equal among the Seldarine' Xan would answer were he able, without breaking his own heart. Instead he sighed, shook his head and followed others, leaving the druidess to stew in her righteous fury.
