Chapter Two: The Road More Traveled
Chapter Notes: I took quite a lot of direction from some of the actual conversations in the game. Good or bad thing, any opinions? Also, I'm sorry about the lax pace with which I'm writing this. I'm trying to work on it more, but I won't blame you, if you decide to wait a while and see if this story is going anywhere, any time soon, before reading it.
***
I run and I run. I have no idea where they were heading, how far they plan on proceeding this night. I can't believe I was so stupid! I should've known Shy wouldn't wait for her gear. A stupid dagger for crying out loud! She can pick that up anywhere. And besides, I think she'll rather use the staff.
I have no idea which way to go, so I put my money on the road. And I run, I run for as long as I have breath, and then slow down to a walk. All the while scanning the nightly forest. For nothing. I can't see anything from the darkness, I barely make out the first trees beside the road. Oh, what I wouldn't give to posses Shy's night vision!
But I don't have it. What I do have is my hearing, and it comes in handy a little after midnight. There's an awful ruckus coming from the north, and I think I hear a scream. It sounds like a man's voice, but I can't be sure. It comes so far away. But the other noises keep getting closer. There is definitely something rushing this way. Fast. Slowly, but surely, I ready my short bow and take a step away from the sound. I'm squinting my little eyes out, trying to catch any sign of movement. And at the same time, trying my damnedest to stay calm. It wouldn't do to start shooting innocent people. But it's hard. I'm scared witless of what is coming. How could I think I could track down Gorion and Shy? How could I think I would even live through the night?
Then something breaks through between the trees. Two small things. Children, is what pops into my mind at first. They are children. And so I lower my bow slightly and try to catch a better view. One of them keeps rushing straight for me, while the other one turns to run along the road, towards east. But something is wrong. Their arms seem disproportional for their size, too long. They are using them when running, like they had four feet. And their skin is so dark. I thought it was because of the lack of lighting, but as the creature gets closer I realize it's something else. It's not human. At the last moment I raise my weapon back up and take a quick shot. But the arrow misses its target by few inches. The blue critter leaps toward me and lets out a high pitched scream. I drop my bow and try to roll out of harms way, at the same time grabbing my dagger. The creature's sharp claws tear at my cape, but don't hurt me. I'm quick to jump back on my feet and turn to face the attacker again. But it's gone. I catch a glimpse of it, as it disappears across the road and into the southern forest.
I take a deep breath and turn a full circle, making sure there aren't any more of them. The other one has also disappeared, to the east. It's quiet for a while, but then I start to hear a similar rushing sound from the north again. Something else is coming this way. Presumably something bigger, more dangerous. Something that is chasing the small blue things.
I pick up my bow and consider making a run for it. But I can't. This could have something to do with Shy. Still, there's no point in getting myself killed. I quickly make my way across the road, over to the southern side, and crouch under one of the trees. I can't see the other side clearly. But again I hear the sounds. They are not as loud as the previous ones. They are slightly quieter, softer. Yet they still carry over a good distance in the dead of the night.
And finally something bursts through the timberline again. Scrambles up the small bank, up on the road. This one's bigger. This one's human. It crosses the road some twenty feet away from me. A quiet panting carries over the air. As the being swings around halfway across the road I recognize it. Her. Shy. I recognize her blood red cape, when the moon comes out from behind the clouds and sheds light to the night for a few moments.
I must be the luckiest girl in the world!
Overwhelmed with relief, I jump up and open my mouth to call out to her, "Sh..." is all I have time to shout. She spots me looming by the tree and spurs into flight again. I observe dumbfounded, how she runs straight for the forest, not even looking where she's going. And that's not wise. She trips over something, and falls down head first. A sickening thud sound emits from the crash site, and I spring into action.
"Shy!" I call out her name while rushing to close the distance between us. She doesn't answer. Her body lies there motionless, when I reach her. Her head is tilted sideways, lying on a trunk of wood. Blood is trickling from a gruesome wound on her forehead, "Please don't die!" I whisper and kneel next to her. Why does she have to be so... so... so helpless! And where is Gorion?! The one time you need him around, he's missing. Figures.
I grab Shy from the shoulders and turn her over, gently laying her head on my lap. Please, please, please, don't die. What the hell am I supposed to do anyway? Is she even breathing? I place my hand below her nose. Her weak exhales tickle my finger lightly. At least I think they do. It's no more than the vaguest summer breeze caressing your face. It's not even that. It's nothing, "Please don't die, Shy," I whisper again. How can I help her?
Before I have time to ponder on the question too long a stern male voice startles me, "Are you sure she came this way?" it comes from the road and sounds impatient.
"Yes," a female voice replies. It's a little bit closer, but still on the road.
My head jumps up, and I try to catch a glimpse of who it is. My first instinct is to call out to them for help, but I quickly smother it. Shy was running away from something. From the voices most likely. Suddenly I'm very glad about the huge tree blocking most of my view to the road. Means they can't see us either. Hopefully. I gather my strength and drag Shy's lifeless body closer to the tree, leaning my own back against it.
It's not lifeless. The body. It can't be lifeless. Don't even think about it. Just concentrate on this moment, getting through this first. If the voices find us, we'll both be lifeless. Where the hell is Gorion when you need him?
A few moments, seconds, maybe ten, fifteen, go by and nothing happens. Once or twice I hear a loud footstep, or the sound of metal scraping against metal, break the otherwise perfect silence of the night.
"This is useless!" the male voice exclaims after what feels like an eternity, "Didn't I tell you to take care of the girl while I handled Gorion?!"
"She got lucky," the woman replies, "But she won't survive long out here. Alone."
"Well, we can't afford to waste any more time here," the man growls. And then there's another short silence before he breaks it again, "Get us back to the city, Tamoko. And once there, arrange for the girl's dead! body to be delivered to me. I hate unfinished business."
"Yes, sir."
I hug Shy tighter in my arms. They're talking about her. They have to be talking about her. But why?, why would anyone want Shy dead so badly? That's the most absurd thing I've ever heard. I can't think of a single reason anyone would go to such limits to have Shy killed. There isn't a reason, she can't have done anything that bad. Maybe it's Gorion though, the reason. Maybe Gorion has enemies, who are trying to get to him through Shy. The drunken thief in Candlekeep! He WAS after Shy! He was probably hired by these people! Oh my gods...
A bright flash from the road behind the tree interrupts my thoughts. A loud crackling fills the air. I recognize the sound from the many spells I've witnessed in the Keep, magical energy pouring from some source and generating something wonderful. I love spells. I love how they make things so much easier. And I love how they're so pretty! With the bright lights and the flashes and whatnot. I love magic, even to the extent that I've many times considered becoming a student of it. But I guess that's too late now. Life outside the Keep won't be easy, no time for studies here. Outside the Keep... it's an overwhelming thought. Being here alone. No, not alone, I have Shy. If she'll just live through the night.
The lights and sounds are long gone before I finally dare to take a peek behind the tree. The road is empty and silent once again. And I thank any and all the gods up there, somewhere, for my luck. It has been incredible tonight! Not only did I run straight into Shy, but we also narrowly escaped the scary people thanks to sheer luck.
Satisfied that we're alone I lift Shy's limb body closer to me, so that her head is now resting on my shoulder. I push the hair away from her face, and wince a little when it sticks to the dried blood. That's disgusting. But I have to be strong. For her. Reaching over with one hand I carefully lower my backpack to the ground and open it. My other hand is lain over her chest, and I notice a steady rise and fall in it's position. She is breathing, weakly, but still breathing. I smile from relief. If she's alive then everything I need is right here. Life doesn't seem nearly as bad as it did only moments ago.
Maybe I should try to wake her up? No, sleep is good. I'm almost sure that sleep is good. Whenever I've been sick, people are always encouraging me to sleep. But I should most definitely tend to the wound. Again taking care not to disturb Shy's rest, I reach into my pack and retrieve my spare shirt along with a bottle of water. I pour a little of the water on the shirt and start to wash off the blood. There's surprisingly little of it, but the wound itself looks as if it's gona leave an ugly scar, or at least an ugly bump for the days to come. Not that it matters. Shy's not vain, she doesn't care about how she looks.
Once I'm done with the cleaning operation, I pick a fresh spot from the shirt and press it on the wound. In case it starts bleeding again. Shy shifts a little in her sleep and mumbles something incoherent, "Shy?" I whisper her name testily. She doesn't respond to it in any way.
I keep staring at her face for a good minute or two, searching for any signs of life. When I find none I finally decide that she's still out cold. I lean my head against the tree. Funny how comfortable it feels, just sitting here on the cold ground, holding on to this girl. I hope it's not gona get too cold during the night, I don't have the energy to build a fire. And I don't even know if it'd be wise, might attract some unwanted attention. It's starting to dawn on me how unprepared I am for the life outside. I know nothing about this world. But this is where Shy is, and so this is where I have to be. There is no way around it. Our lives are tangled together, I can't even imagine the world without her.
Staring into the black forest I try my hardest to stay awake. But it becomes obvious pretty soon that it's a hopeless task. I start to nod off for minutes at first, and then, after a time, I fall for good. Join Shy in the dream world.
***
I wake up with a startle and the first thing I know is the cold. The freezing cold. Next comes the realization that Shy's not in my arms anymore. My eyes shoot open, and I see her sitting on a log, nursing a small fire with a stick. The sun is barely up.
Shy senses me moving and looks up. Something in her eyes scares me more than any of the memories of last night. They look so empty. Her whole face is emotionless. The only thing that separates her from a statue is the fresh scar on the forehead. And the fact that she's moving. Though, maybe that's not proof after all. I've heard of moving statues.
"Feeling okay?" I hear myself asking. She only nods in response and looks away again. Fixes her eyes into the fire, "That wound is pretty nasty."
"It's fine," she says in a monotone voice, "Thanks."
"For what?" I say and struggle to get off the cold ground. A small pain shoots through my back, making me cringe. That's what you get for sleeping on the ground.
"Pretty much everything," she answers very quietly. I barely hear her. "For just being here," a single tear slides down her cheek and another pain attacks me. This one goes straight for my heart, cause I can't stand seeing her this sad. This hurt.
I walk closer and kneel down next to her. She's sitting on the very log she hit her head last night, "What happened?" I ask placing a hand on her knee. Shy shakes her head and shuts her eyes tightly to stop more tears from escaping. A few of them do despite the effort. She opens her mouth to say something but only sobs come out. I sit down on the log next to her, and she immediately buries her face into my shoulder, "Where's Gorion?" I ask when her desperation gets too heavy. And scary.
"He's dead," she cries out quietly. But her mouth is right next to my ear, and it feels like she's shouting from the top of her lungs. Dead! Gorion's dead! The words keep ringing in my head again and again. Dead.
How can it be? It can't be. There is no way! "What?" I ask incredulously, pushing her away from me lightly, "Dead?" Shy nods her head a couple of times and valiantly brushes the tears aside. Dead, "But how?" I shake my head. I can't believe it. How could Gorion be dead? He's like the most powerful wizard in Candlekeep.
I don't think Shy even hears me. Only looks away, turns to stare at the fire once again. After what feels like an eternity, but in reality lasts only a minute or two, she finally opens her mouth, "There was an ambush in the forest. Last night," she talks with the same monotone voice as when I first woke up, "This man in heavy armor, he... he ran his sword through Gorion's stomach," her voice falters but only in the smallest amount.
"You SAW this?" I ask, not wanting to believe it. And again she only nods in response. I expect her to start crying again, but she doesn't. She has put the mask of no emotion back on.
Suddenly the conversation I overheard last night comes back to me. With new meaning. I guess it should've been clear even then what the man and the woman were talking about on the road. But the very thought of Gorion dying... it's incomprehensible. If there ever was a man I thought would live forever, it was Gorion. He always seemed all powerful, all knowing. Almighty.
"So, what now?" I ask, shaking myself free from the past. We're still very much in danger. There's apparently a very capable warrior who wants Shy dead. And even without him, we're alone in the middle of the woods with no survival skills worth mentioning, "Shy? What now?" I ask again when she does nothing to indicate she heard the question.
"I have no idea," she whispers without removing her gaze from the fire.
I start to panic, "Do we go back to Candlekeep?" Please say yes. Pretty please?
Now she turns towards me, "Imoen, I don't know," she says, and I see she's as lost as I am. Maybe even more so. It's only her statue imitation that's throwing me off, makes it seem like she's in control of things. But it's just her way of blocking the sadness out, I realize. Otherwise she'd be overrun by it. Shy loved Gorion. He was a father to her. And the only person, besides me, that she has ever felt close to, "I mean no," she continues, turning her head away, "We can't go back, cause they wouldn't let us in."
I know Candlekeep has rather strict rules of whom they let in, but I still find it hard to believe they'd deny us. We've lived there our whole lives, everyone knows us. They wouldn't deny access from us, I can't see it happening. Just like I couldn't see Gorion's death happening...
Before I can state my opinion, Shy goes on, "Gor... he mentioned some friends... before we left," she starts to stutter, and I see how she's fighting to keep the mask on with all her strength. I wish I could help her somehow. But it still feels like a dream. Just a dream. Gorion can't be dead, "Said they'd be in this place called Friendly Arm Inn."
"Friends?" I repeat incredulously.
Shy nods, "Do you know where this Inn is?"
"Yeah," I answer her question. And am a little surprised she doesn't. I would've thought Gorion made her study some maps too. I guess not then, "It's about a days journey to the northeast."
"That's our best chance," she says standing up, "That's our only chance."
I guess. But it's still a long shot. Neither of us has ever even been to the Inn. Neither of us has ever met these... 'friends', who are, no doubt, expecting to see Gorion. But like Shy said, it's our only chance, "Shy," I say her name when she douses the fire, stomping it with her foot. Her head turns slightly in acknowledgment, "There's something about the armor guy you should know."
"Yeah?" she says showing no interest at all.
"Yeah," I repeat the word, "He might've been after you. Just like the thief in Candlekeep."
Shy stares straight into my eyes for a few moments before nodding her head once, "I know," she says and nothing at all in her composure changes. It's like she doesn't even care that there is a ruthless murderer after her. After ten seconds she breaks the eye contact and starts towards the road.
I get up and follow her, "You know?" I call from behind her, scurrying to catch up, "That's it?" We make it to the road, but she refuses to answer me. I grab her hand and swing her around to face me, "He was after you! He wants you dead!"
The smallest change in her eyes tells me that my words got through. But the effect they have is nothing I expected. She purses her lips and tears her arm free, "I KNOW," she growls in a low voice, "I KNOW Gorion died because of me. I KNOW they were really only after me. And I will have to live with the knowledge that the only man who has ever given a damn about me is dead because of me," she starts pouring out the words. And shuts me right up. I didn't even think about the guilt factor, "I will have to live with it for the rest of my life. So I'd appreciate it if you'd just shut up", she says and turns to go again. Eastwards, along the road.
I look after her for a few moments and then start to follow her. I walk up close to her, but I don't dare to say anything more. She's very upset. And when Shy's upset there's no telling what she'll do. When she's upset, she plans her actions even less than usual. When she's upset, she sometimes lashes out. Usually with her words, which are hurtful enough. But sometimes she lashes out with actions. When she's angry enough she can lose her temper so bad she'll attack someone. Not me, though. Never me. But people she dislikes.
We travel along the road all morning. As the sun rises higher it starts to warm me, and takes away the cold I've felt since I woke up. I try to keep an eye out for any possible stalkers in the woods, but really I would have no idea if someone was following us. Or lying in ambush, just waiting for two unsuspecting girls to trigger their trap. I don't know if it's smart to even stay on the road. That's the first place they'll come looking for us. Or come looking for Shy, actually. I could probably part ways with her right now and no one would mind. No one would come hunting me down. No one, besides Shy, would even know. Or care. Funny how you can live your entire life in one place. Surrounded by people who know you and care for you. And then one day you'll just up and leave, and you're alone in this huge world, where no one knows you. Or cares about you.
It's been some three hours since we started off this morning when I realize how hungry I am. I didn't eat anything last night. And the morning was so busy food didn't even cross my mind. Shy must be famished too. She's hardly anything but skin and bones anyway.
"Shy..." I say her name testily. She's still a little ahead of me and hasn't so much as looked at me entire morning.
She sighs deep and turns around, "What?" she says.
Her face is so pale. Big black rings surround her eyes. She is so weak. And exhausted after only three hours of walk. And it's not like we've been going that fast even. The wound looks worse than when we woke up. It's not bleeding, but it's brighter red. Looks infected.
"Your wound..." I say a little taken aback, "It doesn't look too good," I shake my head.
"It's not supposed to look good, Imoen," she says in a biting tone, "It's a wound."
Gods! How I hate her when she gets like this! "We should clean it," I say trying to keep my voice even.
"The wound is..."
"Hello there!" a man's voice tramples over Shy's weaker one.
We're both startled out of what seemed to be the beginnings of a very promising little fight. I turn my gaze past Shy to where the man is walking towards us. And Shy spins around to face him.
The man is stocky, some might say fat even, and bald. He may look ridiculous, dressed in a purple tunic and short brown pants, but at least he's not threatening. The very opposite of that. He looks friendly. And he sounds friendly when he plunges into his introductory speech, "Well, a busy day for me indeed. Strange noises throughout the night," he says, "And now a plethora of people strolling about the wood. You do look a touch more hospitable than the last two I met," Shy glances quickly back at me with a worried look, "Well met, strangers. I am called Kolssed."
I wait a moment for Shy to answer, but she seems reluctant to speak. Nothing new there. After all, there is a reason for the nickname. She is shy around strangers. And sometimes even around friends. But not with me. Never with me.
I clear my throat and quickly engage in the conversation before we are mistaken for slow people, "You saw two people in the wood?" I ask rudely without even introducing myself. He looks friendly but that's no reason to trust the man.
"Aye," Kolssed answers. His gaze swifts from Shy to me when I take the few steps and come to stand next to my friend. The man is standing a couple of yards from us, "Some ways up the road," he says motioning behind him with his arm, "Not the friendly kind, these two." Again we exchange looks with Shy. No doubt, we're sharing similar thoughts. It could be the man in the armor, or his henchmen, come to finish the job, "You seem to be in need of some healing there, girl," he goes on, pointing at Shy, when we stay quiet for too long.
Shy touches the wound briefly with her hand, "I'm fine," she mutters so quietly I'm sure the man heard nothing.
"Could you tell us something about these people?" I divert the attention away from Shy. She doesn't like being in the spotlight, "We... we were supposed to meet two friends in Friendly Arm Inn," I quickly add when the man's stare turns inquisitive.
"Not these two, I hope," he says and then shrugs and goes on, "Both male. One was a halfling, thief by the looks of him. And the other was a mage. He seemed to be a bit... out there, if you know what I mean." I nod slightly even though I'm not sure I do. Crazy, I suppose he meant. The way some people consider all mages to be crazy, "If you want my advice, you'll steer clear of these folk. There's trouble written all over them."
I nod again, "Thanks," I say.
"Don't mention it," he replies. The stare is fixed on me again, and it's making me feel uncomfortable. Like he's trying to figure something out. Then all of a sudden he looks away and talks again, "Well, I should keep going. Good luck with your travels," he says, "And if I were you I'd get that wound fixed up, sooner rather than later," he throws in as a last comment nodding towards Shy.
She just glares back at him and observes how the man circles around me, and continues down the road towards Candlekeep, "Good luck with you too!" I suddenly chirp after him. He seemed nice enough to deserve it. He just waves his hand without looking back.
When I turn back around, Shy has moved her glare from the man to me. But it's none the softer, "You shouldn't talk so much, Imoen," she says.
"Oh, please," I sneer at her, "He was harmless."
"Be as it may, it isn't smart to give out information about our comings and goings," she says.
We start walking again. This time I take a place right next to her, she seems more willing to socialize. With me, at least, "Well, what do you propose we do? Walk from here to the edge of the world without talking to anyone?"
She snorts and shakes her head, "Grow up," she says, "I'm saying we have to be more careful."
I stay silent for a time. She is right. I shouldn't have told the man about Friendly Arm Inn, "One of us had to say something," I finally say, sounding a little too defensive even for my own taste.
Shy doesn't comment further, and so we again travel in silence. Soon I realize the road has started to twist left, and we're making way north. I know very little about the specifics of the landscape beyond Candlekeep, but we're still very much in the woods. Trees line the road all the way on the western side, but grow a little thinner in east. I know very little about this road itself. But I do know it's supposed to merge with the larger, more frequently trafficked road that runs between Friendly Arm Inn and Beregost. I just didn't think I'd ever get to see it. As frightening a thought as it is, it kind of excites me a bit too. Being out in the world. Now, in the daylight, my courage is starting to come back to me. As is my hunger.
No more than half an hour has passed since we departed from the nosy traveler. I glance at Shy, trying somehow to see if she's as hungry as I am. I only see her profile, but even that is enough to tell she's in no condition to travel.
"Stop," I say and grab her arm. She spins wearily to face me. Her eyes take a few seconds to focus and when she opens her mouth to answer no words come out. It's like the man's ignored advice has sped up the deterioration of Shy's health. The wound is even worse, if possible. I reach out and touch it.
She tries to evade my hand, but not very enthusiastically, "Don't..." she mutters.
I stroke the scar gently. It doesn't only look burning red but also feels it. I move my fingers beyond the wound and find her whole face is burning, "You have a fever," I state as a fact.
"No..." Shy shakes her head weakly, "I'm... fine, Imoen... really. Just fine."
"No," I shake my head furiously back at her, "You're not," I say. Shy finally seems to accept the fact that she isn't okay. That she, indeed, is sick. She takes a deep breath and turns away, "We need to fix you up, Shy," I tell her.
"We need to get away from here, Imoen," she states in a stern voice, "They will be back, and we need to be miles from here by then!" she shakes free from my hold and starts striding purposefully along the road again. Probably wasting the last of her strength in this bravado.
I catch up with her and, instead of forcing her to stop, decide to wait a while longer. There is truth to her words. We need to get away. But what good is that gona be if she dies in the process? Tough decisions all around. No matter what we do there's trouble ahead. Though, letting Shy handle this is not very wise. She's a little unstable at the moment. With the grief and the injury. And I'd be hard pressed to listen to her even if she was in a full state of mind. But I'm no leader either. It just doesn't come naturally to me.
I guess that's why we levitated towards each other when we were younger. Because both of us detested being around bossy people, and neither of us was inclined that way. Actually, it wasn't that. It was a simple twist of fate. It was the fact that I was the first one to show kindness and compassion to her. I could've been a tiny warlord in the making, hell-bent on conquering the world when I got older, and she still would've pledged eternal allegiance to me as long as I gave her a smile and a little bit of human contact. I have no doubt that Gorion loves... loved her, but he wasn't too big on the whole showing of emotions thing. He might've complimented the girl, when she got a spell right or something, but I can't see him giving out any hugs voluntarily. I did give, though. And in return received Shy's unconditional love.
I quickly glance her way again, smiling because of the warm memories playing around in my head. She's fully concentrated on the task ahead, leaning heavily on her staff with every other step. I notice the trees are even fewer and farther apart on the eastern side of the road and, in fact, end altogether when I turn to look ahead. We enter a small clearance in the wood, and the road does a sort of a half circle, bending back west a little and going around a flower field. Which casts a wonderfully uplifting view in the midday sun, radiating bright colors all over.
But beyond the field there's another view. I grab Shy's arm, bringing her to a halt once again. I don't have to point out the reason to her as she's staring that way herself already. It's the halfling and the mage we were warned about. At least, I assume it's them. The taller man is in green robes, while the child sized creature is wearing a dark brown leather armor on top of his gray clothing. They have also spotted us across the flowers and are leering our way while exchanging quiet words. But they make no indication of coming closer.
"What do you wanna do?" I whisper the question to Shy.
"I don't know," she talks back in as silent a voice, "Go talk to them."
"What?" I turn an incredulous stare her way. Her eyes have taken on a sharper look, but I also see how she is holding onto the staff with both hands now, putting more and more weight to it as if her legs won't carry her anymore, "Why do I have to..." I start to argue, but quickly shut up when it starts to sound childish. I have to act my age now, preferably older than my age, "What are you gonna do?"
Shy frowns at me, "I'll be right behind you," she mutters, and then nods toward the strangers, "Now go. Just be sure not to tell them anything."
I take a few unsure steps along the road and turn my eyes back to the two men. They've stopped talking but not staring, "What if they are with the man who ki... from last night?" I whisper warily, changing my words at the last moment.
"Just go," Shy urges me.
The following walk is very awkward. We're staring at them, and they're staring at us. But while I assume our stares are merely agitated, theirs seem shrewd and malicious. To me, at least. The halfling's eyes look to be especially vicious as we get closer. And he's appearance matches the eyes all the way. The unattended hair, the muddy clothes and the dirt covered face. He is clutching a short sword in his right hand.
I gather up my courage and am about to address him, when the mage surprises me by taking a step forward and initiating the conversation, "Look, Montaron, children wandering the wilderness? None too bright, are they?" he speaks in a waving voice.
"Them look to be a bit scuffled too," the halfling says, glowering past me at Shy.
"Yes, well..." I try to put in.
"Indeed, they do. Perhaps we should aid them," the mage interrupts me without a second thought, "I might part with a few healing potions, if you so wish. As a token of good faith between fellow travelers," he goes on, addressing us for the first time.
Healing potions! My gods, I've had one of those in my bag the whole time. How can I be so stupid? I probably would've let Shy just die away and not remember it before it would've been too late, "Shy, I just remembered..." I turn away from the mage's anxious face.
"W... we prefer to get by on our own," I get interrupted again, as Shy stutters an answer to the strangers and takes a step closer, "Th... thank you, though."
When I turn to face them again there's a much more strained smile on the mage's face. And the halfling isn't even trying to hide his disappointment to Shy's reply, "Did you hear that, Xzar? The children don't trust us. Most impolite," he speaks in his grating voice. I notice his fingers chafe the hilt of the sword in small motions.
"Now, now, Monty," the mage tries to placate his companion, "It is only wise to be cautious. Especially these days, with so many bandits lurking in the woods," he says, pausing for a second to give more effect to his implications, "Tell us, friends, what are you plans? We are heading south to the mining town of Nashkel. There is all kinds of trouble stirring there that we plan to investigate. Your help would be most welcome...and it would surely be safer to travel in a group... no?"
I exchange quick glances with Shy and I can see she's no more eager to adhere to the mage's plan than I am. But declining the offer isn't looking very enticing either. They seem like the kind that might insist, "As... tempting... as it sounds, we have other matters to attend to..." I start saying very carefully.
"You arrogant BRATS!" Xzar flares up suddenly, making a small move with his hands. For a second I think he's about to attack us, but then he seems to regain control of his temper, "Come, Montaron," he says with an indignant sigh and strolls past us, heading south, straight through the field of flowers.
"Now you've done it! Gotten him mad!" the halfling spits out, "We were only trying to do you a favor! Ingrates! You'll be dead before sundown without us!" he steamrolls after the mage, flattening as many flowers on his way as he can.
I watch the pair go in amazement. They rush past the meadow and continue to follow down the road. In the wrong direction. This road leads only to Candlekeep. The one leading farther south should be still a short leap to the east.
"What do you think their problem was?" I ask incredulously, when they disappear behind the trees, and turn to find Shy flailing unsteadily on her feet, clinging onto the staff for dear life. She's blinking her eyes every two seconds and looks about ready to keel over from exhaustion. The fever, strengthened by the morning's exertion, has finally prevailed over her dismal constitution I quickly reach my arm around her, giving more support, and use my other hand to snake the healing potion out of the bag.
She tries to feebly shoo away the bottle when I open the cap, "No... Imoen... save it," she mutters, managing to almost knock it off my hands.
"Drink it, you idiot!" I snap at her angrily and push the potion towards her mouth. She just clenches her jaw shut and turns her head away like a petulant child, "Oh, come on, Shy!" I shout and release my hold on her. The sudden lack of support is too much for her at this state, and with a quiet yelp she slumps down to her knees. The staff falls down on the road, clanking quite loudly, when she lets go of it and brings her hands to her lap, "You have to drink it. We'll never get to the Friendly Arm, if you don't get your strength back," I say in a more settling tone.
Her eyes are cast down and her head shakes left and right once, "I don't really care," she whines, "I don't... I can't..." she looks up slowly and there are tears in her eyes, "We should go back... we should..."
"We're not going back!" I sternly interrupt her inane ranting, "Drink it. You'll feel better," I bend down and shove the potion into her hands.
Shy again looks away, this time she turns to distantly study the healing potion in her lap, "What am I going to do, Imoen?" she just asks without making any movement to obey my command, "Gorion always told me what to do," she says.
"Yeah, well, he's dead," I blurt out bluntly, hoping it'll shock some sense back into her, "Time to start making your own choices."
"Yeah..." she draws out the word sadly, "We should go back and bury his body," she says in a suddenly clear voice. Throwing back her head, she brings the bottle to her lips and lets the blue liquid flow down her throat. She tries to jug it down all at once, without taking a break, and large quantities run off the side of her mouth and to the ground. Near the end she starts coughing violently, and it forces her to drop the empty bottle to the ground and draw in lungfuls of air at a time.
I sigh out of relief when the potion starts work its magic, and the wound on Shy's forehead grows smaller and smaller. It retracts almost completely, leaving behind only a small freckle, "Good, it's working. Do you feel better?" I ask when the cough spell dies down.
She nods her head a few times, takes one more deep breath and then looks at me with her scarily empty eyes. I recognize them from the morning. "It doesn't cure the fever, though," she says, swiping her mouth dry with the sleeve of her robe.
"It doesn't?" I ask a little worriedly. I thought it would. I thought it'd make everything better, "Well... um... how come?" I frown.
Shy struggles back on her feet, retrieving the staff on her way, and brushes the hem of her robe clean, "Cause that's just the way it is," she answers.
Right. So, what now? She's still got the fever, and we're at least eight hours away from the Inn. More than enough time for the disease to drain her empty again. Well, on the bright side, she's lucid again, maybe she has some good ideas. Right.
"We should've gone with those two," Shy says taking a few steps to go after the mad duo we just got rid of. Good idea number one right there.
"Sure," I shake my head and spread my arms wide, "They seemed to know what they were doing. Except that they were either hopelessly lost, or lying to us. This isn't the way to Nashkel."
Shy glares at me irately under her brow. It's a little creepy, the way she seems to become more and more angrier, the better health she's in. At least when she was huddled on the ground I recognized her for the girl I've known forever. I don't recognize this cold and distant figure with the attitude. The only explanation I can think of is that she's just burying all her emotions as deep as she can, so that she can function in some rational way. And when she's physically weak, she can't fight against them and they force themselves to the surface. The emotions. It makes sense, in a scary way. In time she'll be okay. The pain caused by the loss of Gorion will eventually subside. It has to.
"Let's just go then," Shy huffs and starts following the road away from Candlekeep. It leads some twenty yards to east and then turns north again.
"Shy," I call out after her, "Maybe we ought to leave the road. What do you think?" I ask and head to catch up with her. She remains quiet, but starts to look around her as if she's trying to find another way. "This road seems to be pretty heavily trafficked," I go on, "It's gona be easy to follow us, if we keep running into people."
Shy takes a few more moments to think it over, "That's true," she says turning an appreciative look towards me, "You think you can find the Inn, if we take to the wilderness?"
I nod a couple of times and smile, more to myself than to her, "Maybe," I say.
"Maybe?" she repeats dubiously, "Imoen, that doesn't sound too encouraging..."
"Well, Shae'Lynne," I say pressing her name hard, "That's all you're going to get. If we leave the road right here, head east instead of north, we should come across the road to Beregost," I start laying out the plan to Shy, trying to sound convincing. I do have my doubts, like maybe the map in my memory is flawed, but it wouldn't do any good to worry her with them, "Then we can just follow that road north and we should hit the Friendly Arm in no time."
She looks at me for the longest time, silently weighing out the plan in her mind. Sometimes she has a hard time trusting my schemes, they haven't always worked out in the past. But this one should be a piece of cake. The road can't be more than two or three hours away, and if we find that, then it should be child's play all the way up to the Inn. But again, only if I remember correctly.
"Okay," Shy finally nods her head, "We'll try that," she says, starting to move again. Correcting her course, she heads east, off the road and towards the rocky ground that seems to rise slowly along the way.
I lag behind again, "How bad is the fever?" I ask her. Leaving the road, I turn a full circle to make sure no one sees us going.
"It's not too bad..." Shy mumbles the answer, and I have no idea if to believe her or not.
Ahead of us, in the distance, I can see more trees again. Trees are good. They provide good cover. And also, they look pretty.
end of chapter two
Chapter Notes: I took quite a lot of direction from some of the actual conversations in the game. Good or bad thing, any opinions? Also, I'm sorry about the lax pace with which I'm writing this. I'm trying to work on it more, but I won't blame you, if you decide to wait a while and see if this story is going anywhere, any time soon, before reading it.
***
I run and I run. I have no idea where they were heading, how far they plan on proceeding this night. I can't believe I was so stupid! I should've known Shy wouldn't wait for her gear. A stupid dagger for crying out loud! She can pick that up anywhere. And besides, I think she'll rather use the staff.
I have no idea which way to go, so I put my money on the road. And I run, I run for as long as I have breath, and then slow down to a walk. All the while scanning the nightly forest. For nothing. I can't see anything from the darkness, I barely make out the first trees beside the road. Oh, what I wouldn't give to posses Shy's night vision!
But I don't have it. What I do have is my hearing, and it comes in handy a little after midnight. There's an awful ruckus coming from the north, and I think I hear a scream. It sounds like a man's voice, but I can't be sure. It comes so far away. But the other noises keep getting closer. There is definitely something rushing this way. Fast. Slowly, but surely, I ready my short bow and take a step away from the sound. I'm squinting my little eyes out, trying to catch any sign of movement. And at the same time, trying my damnedest to stay calm. It wouldn't do to start shooting innocent people. But it's hard. I'm scared witless of what is coming. How could I think I could track down Gorion and Shy? How could I think I would even live through the night?
Then something breaks through between the trees. Two small things. Children, is what pops into my mind at first. They are children. And so I lower my bow slightly and try to catch a better view. One of them keeps rushing straight for me, while the other one turns to run along the road, towards east. But something is wrong. Their arms seem disproportional for their size, too long. They are using them when running, like they had four feet. And their skin is so dark. I thought it was because of the lack of lighting, but as the creature gets closer I realize it's something else. It's not human. At the last moment I raise my weapon back up and take a quick shot. But the arrow misses its target by few inches. The blue critter leaps toward me and lets out a high pitched scream. I drop my bow and try to roll out of harms way, at the same time grabbing my dagger. The creature's sharp claws tear at my cape, but don't hurt me. I'm quick to jump back on my feet and turn to face the attacker again. But it's gone. I catch a glimpse of it, as it disappears across the road and into the southern forest.
I take a deep breath and turn a full circle, making sure there aren't any more of them. The other one has also disappeared, to the east. It's quiet for a while, but then I start to hear a similar rushing sound from the north again. Something else is coming this way. Presumably something bigger, more dangerous. Something that is chasing the small blue things.
I pick up my bow and consider making a run for it. But I can't. This could have something to do with Shy. Still, there's no point in getting myself killed. I quickly make my way across the road, over to the southern side, and crouch under one of the trees. I can't see the other side clearly. But again I hear the sounds. They are not as loud as the previous ones. They are slightly quieter, softer. Yet they still carry over a good distance in the dead of the night.
And finally something bursts through the timberline again. Scrambles up the small bank, up on the road. This one's bigger. This one's human. It crosses the road some twenty feet away from me. A quiet panting carries over the air. As the being swings around halfway across the road I recognize it. Her. Shy. I recognize her blood red cape, when the moon comes out from behind the clouds and sheds light to the night for a few moments.
I must be the luckiest girl in the world!
Overwhelmed with relief, I jump up and open my mouth to call out to her, "Sh..." is all I have time to shout. She spots me looming by the tree and spurs into flight again. I observe dumbfounded, how she runs straight for the forest, not even looking where she's going. And that's not wise. She trips over something, and falls down head first. A sickening thud sound emits from the crash site, and I spring into action.
"Shy!" I call out her name while rushing to close the distance between us. She doesn't answer. Her body lies there motionless, when I reach her. Her head is tilted sideways, lying on a trunk of wood. Blood is trickling from a gruesome wound on her forehead, "Please don't die!" I whisper and kneel next to her. Why does she have to be so... so... so helpless! And where is Gorion?! The one time you need him around, he's missing. Figures.
I grab Shy from the shoulders and turn her over, gently laying her head on my lap. Please, please, please, don't die. What the hell am I supposed to do anyway? Is she even breathing? I place my hand below her nose. Her weak exhales tickle my finger lightly. At least I think they do. It's no more than the vaguest summer breeze caressing your face. It's not even that. It's nothing, "Please don't die, Shy," I whisper again. How can I help her?
Before I have time to ponder on the question too long a stern male voice startles me, "Are you sure she came this way?" it comes from the road and sounds impatient.
"Yes," a female voice replies. It's a little bit closer, but still on the road.
My head jumps up, and I try to catch a glimpse of who it is. My first instinct is to call out to them for help, but I quickly smother it. Shy was running away from something. From the voices most likely. Suddenly I'm very glad about the huge tree blocking most of my view to the road. Means they can't see us either. Hopefully. I gather my strength and drag Shy's lifeless body closer to the tree, leaning my own back against it.
It's not lifeless. The body. It can't be lifeless. Don't even think about it. Just concentrate on this moment, getting through this first. If the voices find us, we'll both be lifeless. Where the hell is Gorion when you need him?
A few moments, seconds, maybe ten, fifteen, go by and nothing happens. Once or twice I hear a loud footstep, or the sound of metal scraping against metal, break the otherwise perfect silence of the night.
"This is useless!" the male voice exclaims after what feels like an eternity, "Didn't I tell you to take care of the girl while I handled Gorion?!"
"She got lucky," the woman replies, "But she won't survive long out here. Alone."
"Well, we can't afford to waste any more time here," the man growls. And then there's another short silence before he breaks it again, "Get us back to the city, Tamoko. And once there, arrange for the girl's dead! body to be delivered to me. I hate unfinished business."
"Yes, sir."
I hug Shy tighter in my arms. They're talking about her. They have to be talking about her. But why?, why would anyone want Shy dead so badly? That's the most absurd thing I've ever heard. I can't think of a single reason anyone would go to such limits to have Shy killed. There isn't a reason, she can't have done anything that bad. Maybe it's Gorion though, the reason. Maybe Gorion has enemies, who are trying to get to him through Shy. The drunken thief in Candlekeep! He WAS after Shy! He was probably hired by these people! Oh my gods...
A bright flash from the road behind the tree interrupts my thoughts. A loud crackling fills the air. I recognize the sound from the many spells I've witnessed in the Keep, magical energy pouring from some source and generating something wonderful. I love spells. I love how they make things so much easier. And I love how they're so pretty! With the bright lights and the flashes and whatnot. I love magic, even to the extent that I've many times considered becoming a student of it. But I guess that's too late now. Life outside the Keep won't be easy, no time for studies here. Outside the Keep... it's an overwhelming thought. Being here alone. No, not alone, I have Shy. If she'll just live through the night.
The lights and sounds are long gone before I finally dare to take a peek behind the tree. The road is empty and silent once again. And I thank any and all the gods up there, somewhere, for my luck. It has been incredible tonight! Not only did I run straight into Shy, but we also narrowly escaped the scary people thanks to sheer luck.
Satisfied that we're alone I lift Shy's limb body closer to me, so that her head is now resting on my shoulder. I push the hair away from her face, and wince a little when it sticks to the dried blood. That's disgusting. But I have to be strong. For her. Reaching over with one hand I carefully lower my backpack to the ground and open it. My other hand is lain over her chest, and I notice a steady rise and fall in it's position. She is breathing, weakly, but still breathing. I smile from relief. If she's alive then everything I need is right here. Life doesn't seem nearly as bad as it did only moments ago.
Maybe I should try to wake her up? No, sleep is good. I'm almost sure that sleep is good. Whenever I've been sick, people are always encouraging me to sleep. But I should most definitely tend to the wound. Again taking care not to disturb Shy's rest, I reach into my pack and retrieve my spare shirt along with a bottle of water. I pour a little of the water on the shirt and start to wash off the blood. There's surprisingly little of it, but the wound itself looks as if it's gona leave an ugly scar, or at least an ugly bump for the days to come. Not that it matters. Shy's not vain, she doesn't care about how she looks.
Once I'm done with the cleaning operation, I pick a fresh spot from the shirt and press it on the wound. In case it starts bleeding again. Shy shifts a little in her sleep and mumbles something incoherent, "Shy?" I whisper her name testily. She doesn't respond to it in any way.
I keep staring at her face for a good minute or two, searching for any signs of life. When I find none I finally decide that she's still out cold. I lean my head against the tree. Funny how comfortable it feels, just sitting here on the cold ground, holding on to this girl. I hope it's not gona get too cold during the night, I don't have the energy to build a fire. And I don't even know if it'd be wise, might attract some unwanted attention. It's starting to dawn on me how unprepared I am for the life outside. I know nothing about this world. But this is where Shy is, and so this is where I have to be. There is no way around it. Our lives are tangled together, I can't even imagine the world without her.
Staring into the black forest I try my hardest to stay awake. But it becomes obvious pretty soon that it's a hopeless task. I start to nod off for minutes at first, and then, after a time, I fall for good. Join Shy in the dream world.
***
I wake up with a startle and the first thing I know is the cold. The freezing cold. Next comes the realization that Shy's not in my arms anymore. My eyes shoot open, and I see her sitting on a log, nursing a small fire with a stick. The sun is barely up.
Shy senses me moving and looks up. Something in her eyes scares me more than any of the memories of last night. They look so empty. Her whole face is emotionless. The only thing that separates her from a statue is the fresh scar on the forehead. And the fact that she's moving. Though, maybe that's not proof after all. I've heard of moving statues.
"Feeling okay?" I hear myself asking. She only nods in response and looks away again. Fixes her eyes into the fire, "That wound is pretty nasty."
"It's fine," she says in a monotone voice, "Thanks."
"For what?" I say and struggle to get off the cold ground. A small pain shoots through my back, making me cringe. That's what you get for sleeping on the ground.
"Pretty much everything," she answers very quietly. I barely hear her. "For just being here," a single tear slides down her cheek and another pain attacks me. This one goes straight for my heart, cause I can't stand seeing her this sad. This hurt.
I walk closer and kneel down next to her. She's sitting on the very log she hit her head last night, "What happened?" I ask placing a hand on her knee. Shy shakes her head and shuts her eyes tightly to stop more tears from escaping. A few of them do despite the effort. She opens her mouth to say something but only sobs come out. I sit down on the log next to her, and she immediately buries her face into my shoulder, "Where's Gorion?" I ask when her desperation gets too heavy. And scary.
"He's dead," she cries out quietly. But her mouth is right next to my ear, and it feels like she's shouting from the top of her lungs. Dead! Gorion's dead! The words keep ringing in my head again and again. Dead.
How can it be? It can't be. There is no way! "What?" I ask incredulously, pushing her away from me lightly, "Dead?" Shy nods her head a couple of times and valiantly brushes the tears aside. Dead, "But how?" I shake my head. I can't believe it. How could Gorion be dead? He's like the most powerful wizard in Candlekeep.
I don't think Shy even hears me. Only looks away, turns to stare at the fire once again. After what feels like an eternity, but in reality lasts only a minute or two, she finally opens her mouth, "There was an ambush in the forest. Last night," she talks with the same monotone voice as when I first woke up, "This man in heavy armor, he... he ran his sword through Gorion's stomach," her voice falters but only in the smallest amount.
"You SAW this?" I ask, not wanting to believe it. And again she only nods in response. I expect her to start crying again, but she doesn't. She has put the mask of no emotion back on.
Suddenly the conversation I overheard last night comes back to me. With new meaning. I guess it should've been clear even then what the man and the woman were talking about on the road. But the very thought of Gorion dying... it's incomprehensible. If there ever was a man I thought would live forever, it was Gorion. He always seemed all powerful, all knowing. Almighty.
"So, what now?" I ask, shaking myself free from the past. We're still very much in danger. There's apparently a very capable warrior who wants Shy dead. And even without him, we're alone in the middle of the woods with no survival skills worth mentioning, "Shy? What now?" I ask again when she does nothing to indicate she heard the question.
"I have no idea," she whispers without removing her gaze from the fire.
I start to panic, "Do we go back to Candlekeep?" Please say yes. Pretty please?
Now she turns towards me, "Imoen, I don't know," she says, and I see she's as lost as I am. Maybe even more so. It's only her statue imitation that's throwing me off, makes it seem like she's in control of things. But it's just her way of blocking the sadness out, I realize. Otherwise she'd be overrun by it. Shy loved Gorion. He was a father to her. And the only person, besides me, that she has ever felt close to, "I mean no," she continues, turning her head away, "We can't go back, cause they wouldn't let us in."
I know Candlekeep has rather strict rules of whom they let in, but I still find it hard to believe they'd deny us. We've lived there our whole lives, everyone knows us. They wouldn't deny access from us, I can't see it happening. Just like I couldn't see Gorion's death happening...
Before I can state my opinion, Shy goes on, "Gor... he mentioned some friends... before we left," she starts to stutter, and I see how she's fighting to keep the mask on with all her strength. I wish I could help her somehow. But it still feels like a dream. Just a dream. Gorion can't be dead, "Said they'd be in this place called Friendly Arm Inn."
"Friends?" I repeat incredulously.
Shy nods, "Do you know where this Inn is?"
"Yeah," I answer her question. And am a little surprised she doesn't. I would've thought Gorion made her study some maps too. I guess not then, "It's about a days journey to the northeast."
"That's our best chance," she says standing up, "That's our only chance."
I guess. But it's still a long shot. Neither of us has ever even been to the Inn. Neither of us has ever met these... 'friends', who are, no doubt, expecting to see Gorion. But like Shy said, it's our only chance, "Shy," I say her name when she douses the fire, stomping it with her foot. Her head turns slightly in acknowledgment, "There's something about the armor guy you should know."
"Yeah?" she says showing no interest at all.
"Yeah," I repeat the word, "He might've been after you. Just like the thief in Candlekeep."
Shy stares straight into my eyes for a few moments before nodding her head once, "I know," she says and nothing at all in her composure changes. It's like she doesn't even care that there is a ruthless murderer after her. After ten seconds she breaks the eye contact and starts towards the road.
I get up and follow her, "You know?" I call from behind her, scurrying to catch up, "That's it?" We make it to the road, but she refuses to answer me. I grab her hand and swing her around to face me, "He was after you! He wants you dead!"
The smallest change in her eyes tells me that my words got through. But the effect they have is nothing I expected. She purses her lips and tears her arm free, "I KNOW," she growls in a low voice, "I KNOW Gorion died because of me. I KNOW they were really only after me. And I will have to live with the knowledge that the only man who has ever given a damn about me is dead because of me," she starts pouring out the words. And shuts me right up. I didn't even think about the guilt factor, "I will have to live with it for the rest of my life. So I'd appreciate it if you'd just shut up", she says and turns to go again. Eastwards, along the road.
I look after her for a few moments and then start to follow her. I walk up close to her, but I don't dare to say anything more. She's very upset. And when Shy's upset there's no telling what she'll do. When she's upset, she plans her actions even less than usual. When she's upset, she sometimes lashes out. Usually with her words, which are hurtful enough. But sometimes she lashes out with actions. When she's angry enough she can lose her temper so bad she'll attack someone. Not me, though. Never me. But people she dislikes.
We travel along the road all morning. As the sun rises higher it starts to warm me, and takes away the cold I've felt since I woke up. I try to keep an eye out for any possible stalkers in the woods, but really I would have no idea if someone was following us. Or lying in ambush, just waiting for two unsuspecting girls to trigger their trap. I don't know if it's smart to even stay on the road. That's the first place they'll come looking for us. Or come looking for Shy, actually. I could probably part ways with her right now and no one would mind. No one would come hunting me down. No one, besides Shy, would even know. Or care. Funny how you can live your entire life in one place. Surrounded by people who know you and care for you. And then one day you'll just up and leave, and you're alone in this huge world, where no one knows you. Or cares about you.
It's been some three hours since we started off this morning when I realize how hungry I am. I didn't eat anything last night. And the morning was so busy food didn't even cross my mind. Shy must be famished too. She's hardly anything but skin and bones anyway.
"Shy..." I say her name testily. She's still a little ahead of me and hasn't so much as looked at me entire morning.
She sighs deep and turns around, "What?" she says.
Her face is so pale. Big black rings surround her eyes. She is so weak. And exhausted after only three hours of walk. And it's not like we've been going that fast even. The wound looks worse than when we woke up. It's not bleeding, but it's brighter red. Looks infected.
"Your wound..." I say a little taken aback, "It doesn't look too good," I shake my head.
"It's not supposed to look good, Imoen," she says in a biting tone, "It's a wound."
Gods! How I hate her when she gets like this! "We should clean it," I say trying to keep my voice even.
"The wound is..."
"Hello there!" a man's voice tramples over Shy's weaker one.
We're both startled out of what seemed to be the beginnings of a very promising little fight. I turn my gaze past Shy to where the man is walking towards us. And Shy spins around to face him.
The man is stocky, some might say fat even, and bald. He may look ridiculous, dressed in a purple tunic and short brown pants, but at least he's not threatening. The very opposite of that. He looks friendly. And he sounds friendly when he plunges into his introductory speech, "Well, a busy day for me indeed. Strange noises throughout the night," he says, "And now a plethora of people strolling about the wood. You do look a touch more hospitable than the last two I met," Shy glances quickly back at me with a worried look, "Well met, strangers. I am called Kolssed."
I wait a moment for Shy to answer, but she seems reluctant to speak. Nothing new there. After all, there is a reason for the nickname. She is shy around strangers. And sometimes even around friends. But not with me. Never with me.
I clear my throat and quickly engage in the conversation before we are mistaken for slow people, "You saw two people in the wood?" I ask rudely without even introducing myself. He looks friendly but that's no reason to trust the man.
"Aye," Kolssed answers. His gaze swifts from Shy to me when I take the few steps and come to stand next to my friend. The man is standing a couple of yards from us, "Some ways up the road," he says motioning behind him with his arm, "Not the friendly kind, these two." Again we exchange looks with Shy. No doubt, we're sharing similar thoughts. It could be the man in the armor, or his henchmen, come to finish the job, "You seem to be in need of some healing there, girl," he goes on, pointing at Shy, when we stay quiet for too long.
Shy touches the wound briefly with her hand, "I'm fine," she mutters so quietly I'm sure the man heard nothing.
"Could you tell us something about these people?" I divert the attention away from Shy. She doesn't like being in the spotlight, "We... we were supposed to meet two friends in Friendly Arm Inn," I quickly add when the man's stare turns inquisitive.
"Not these two, I hope," he says and then shrugs and goes on, "Both male. One was a halfling, thief by the looks of him. And the other was a mage. He seemed to be a bit... out there, if you know what I mean." I nod slightly even though I'm not sure I do. Crazy, I suppose he meant. The way some people consider all mages to be crazy, "If you want my advice, you'll steer clear of these folk. There's trouble written all over them."
I nod again, "Thanks," I say.
"Don't mention it," he replies. The stare is fixed on me again, and it's making me feel uncomfortable. Like he's trying to figure something out. Then all of a sudden he looks away and talks again, "Well, I should keep going. Good luck with your travels," he says, "And if I were you I'd get that wound fixed up, sooner rather than later," he throws in as a last comment nodding towards Shy.
She just glares back at him and observes how the man circles around me, and continues down the road towards Candlekeep, "Good luck with you too!" I suddenly chirp after him. He seemed nice enough to deserve it. He just waves his hand without looking back.
When I turn back around, Shy has moved her glare from the man to me. But it's none the softer, "You shouldn't talk so much, Imoen," she says.
"Oh, please," I sneer at her, "He was harmless."
"Be as it may, it isn't smart to give out information about our comings and goings," she says.
We start walking again. This time I take a place right next to her, she seems more willing to socialize. With me, at least, "Well, what do you propose we do? Walk from here to the edge of the world without talking to anyone?"
She snorts and shakes her head, "Grow up," she says, "I'm saying we have to be more careful."
I stay silent for a time. She is right. I shouldn't have told the man about Friendly Arm Inn, "One of us had to say something," I finally say, sounding a little too defensive even for my own taste.
Shy doesn't comment further, and so we again travel in silence. Soon I realize the road has started to twist left, and we're making way north. I know very little about the specifics of the landscape beyond Candlekeep, but we're still very much in the woods. Trees line the road all the way on the western side, but grow a little thinner in east. I know very little about this road itself. But I do know it's supposed to merge with the larger, more frequently trafficked road that runs between Friendly Arm Inn and Beregost. I just didn't think I'd ever get to see it. As frightening a thought as it is, it kind of excites me a bit too. Being out in the world. Now, in the daylight, my courage is starting to come back to me. As is my hunger.
No more than half an hour has passed since we departed from the nosy traveler. I glance at Shy, trying somehow to see if she's as hungry as I am. I only see her profile, but even that is enough to tell she's in no condition to travel.
"Stop," I say and grab her arm. She spins wearily to face me. Her eyes take a few seconds to focus and when she opens her mouth to answer no words come out. It's like the man's ignored advice has sped up the deterioration of Shy's health. The wound is even worse, if possible. I reach out and touch it.
She tries to evade my hand, but not very enthusiastically, "Don't..." she mutters.
I stroke the scar gently. It doesn't only look burning red but also feels it. I move my fingers beyond the wound and find her whole face is burning, "You have a fever," I state as a fact.
"No..." Shy shakes her head weakly, "I'm... fine, Imoen... really. Just fine."
"No," I shake my head furiously back at her, "You're not," I say. Shy finally seems to accept the fact that she isn't okay. That she, indeed, is sick. She takes a deep breath and turns away, "We need to fix you up, Shy," I tell her.
"We need to get away from here, Imoen," she states in a stern voice, "They will be back, and we need to be miles from here by then!" she shakes free from my hold and starts striding purposefully along the road again. Probably wasting the last of her strength in this bravado.
I catch up with her and, instead of forcing her to stop, decide to wait a while longer. There is truth to her words. We need to get away. But what good is that gona be if she dies in the process? Tough decisions all around. No matter what we do there's trouble ahead. Though, letting Shy handle this is not very wise. She's a little unstable at the moment. With the grief and the injury. And I'd be hard pressed to listen to her even if she was in a full state of mind. But I'm no leader either. It just doesn't come naturally to me.
I guess that's why we levitated towards each other when we were younger. Because both of us detested being around bossy people, and neither of us was inclined that way. Actually, it wasn't that. It was a simple twist of fate. It was the fact that I was the first one to show kindness and compassion to her. I could've been a tiny warlord in the making, hell-bent on conquering the world when I got older, and she still would've pledged eternal allegiance to me as long as I gave her a smile and a little bit of human contact. I have no doubt that Gorion loves... loved her, but he wasn't too big on the whole showing of emotions thing. He might've complimented the girl, when she got a spell right or something, but I can't see him giving out any hugs voluntarily. I did give, though. And in return received Shy's unconditional love.
I quickly glance her way again, smiling because of the warm memories playing around in my head. She's fully concentrated on the task ahead, leaning heavily on her staff with every other step. I notice the trees are even fewer and farther apart on the eastern side of the road and, in fact, end altogether when I turn to look ahead. We enter a small clearance in the wood, and the road does a sort of a half circle, bending back west a little and going around a flower field. Which casts a wonderfully uplifting view in the midday sun, radiating bright colors all over.
But beyond the field there's another view. I grab Shy's arm, bringing her to a halt once again. I don't have to point out the reason to her as she's staring that way herself already. It's the halfling and the mage we were warned about. At least, I assume it's them. The taller man is in green robes, while the child sized creature is wearing a dark brown leather armor on top of his gray clothing. They have also spotted us across the flowers and are leering our way while exchanging quiet words. But they make no indication of coming closer.
"What do you wanna do?" I whisper the question to Shy.
"I don't know," she talks back in as silent a voice, "Go talk to them."
"What?" I turn an incredulous stare her way. Her eyes have taken on a sharper look, but I also see how she is holding onto the staff with both hands now, putting more and more weight to it as if her legs won't carry her anymore, "Why do I have to..." I start to argue, but quickly shut up when it starts to sound childish. I have to act my age now, preferably older than my age, "What are you gonna do?"
Shy frowns at me, "I'll be right behind you," she mutters, and then nods toward the strangers, "Now go. Just be sure not to tell them anything."
I take a few unsure steps along the road and turn my eyes back to the two men. They've stopped talking but not staring, "What if they are with the man who ki... from last night?" I whisper warily, changing my words at the last moment.
"Just go," Shy urges me.
The following walk is very awkward. We're staring at them, and they're staring at us. But while I assume our stares are merely agitated, theirs seem shrewd and malicious. To me, at least. The halfling's eyes look to be especially vicious as we get closer. And he's appearance matches the eyes all the way. The unattended hair, the muddy clothes and the dirt covered face. He is clutching a short sword in his right hand.
I gather up my courage and am about to address him, when the mage surprises me by taking a step forward and initiating the conversation, "Look, Montaron, children wandering the wilderness? None too bright, are they?" he speaks in a waving voice.
"Them look to be a bit scuffled too," the halfling says, glowering past me at Shy.
"Yes, well..." I try to put in.
"Indeed, they do. Perhaps we should aid them," the mage interrupts me without a second thought, "I might part with a few healing potions, if you so wish. As a token of good faith between fellow travelers," he goes on, addressing us for the first time.
Healing potions! My gods, I've had one of those in my bag the whole time. How can I be so stupid? I probably would've let Shy just die away and not remember it before it would've been too late, "Shy, I just remembered..." I turn away from the mage's anxious face.
"W... we prefer to get by on our own," I get interrupted again, as Shy stutters an answer to the strangers and takes a step closer, "Th... thank you, though."
When I turn to face them again there's a much more strained smile on the mage's face. And the halfling isn't even trying to hide his disappointment to Shy's reply, "Did you hear that, Xzar? The children don't trust us. Most impolite," he speaks in his grating voice. I notice his fingers chafe the hilt of the sword in small motions.
"Now, now, Monty," the mage tries to placate his companion, "It is only wise to be cautious. Especially these days, with so many bandits lurking in the woods," he says, pausing for a second to give more effect to his implications, "Tell us, friends, what are you plans? We are heading south to the mining town of Nashkel. There is all kinds of trouble stirring there that we plan to investigate. Your help would be most welcome...and it would surely be safer to travel in a group... no?"
I exchange quick glances with Shy and I can see she's no more eager to adhere to the mage's plan than I am. But declining the offer isn't looking very enticing either. They seem like the kind that might insist, "As... tempting... as it sounds, we have other matters to attend to..." I start saying very carefully.
"You arrogant BRATS!" Xzar flares up suddenly, making a small move with his hands. For a second I think he's about to attack us, but then he seems to regain control of his temper, "Come, Montaron," he says with an indignant sigh and strolls past us, heading south, straight through the field of flowers.
"Now you've done it! Gotten him mad!" the halfling spits out, "We were only trying to do you a favor! Ingrates! You'll be dead before sundown without us!" he steamrolls after the mage, flattening as many flowers on his way as he can.
I watch the pair go in amazement. They rush past the meadow and continue to follow down the road. In the wrong direction. This road leads only to Candlekeep. The one leading farther south should be still a short leap to the east.
"What do you think their problem was?" I ask incredulously, when they disappear behind the trees, and turn to find Shy flailing unsteadily on her feet, clinging onto the staff for dear life. She's blinking her eyes every two seconds and looks about ready to keel over from exhaustion. The fever, strengthened by the morning's exertion, has finally prevailed over her dismal constitution I quickly reach my arm around her, giving more support, and use my other hand to snake the healing potion out of the bag.
She tries to feebly shoo away the bottle when I open the cap, "No... Imoen... save it," she mutters, managing to almost knock it off my hands.
"Drink it, you idiot!" I snap at her angrily and push the potion towards her mouth. She just clenches her jaw shut and turns her head away like a petulant child, "Oh, come on, Shy!" I shout and release my hold on her. The sudden lack of support is too much for her at this state, and with a quiet yelp she slumps down to her knees. The staff falls down on the road, clanking quite loudly, when she lets go of it and brings her hands to her lap, "You have to drink it. We'll never get to the Friendly Arm, if you don't get your strength back," I say in a more settling tone.
Her eyes are cast down and her head shakes left and right once, "I don't really care," she whines, "I don't... I can't..." she looks up slowly and there are tears in her eyes, "We should go back... we should..."
"We're not going back!" I sternly interrupt her inane ranting, "Drink it. You'll feel better," I bend down and shove the potion into her hands.
Shy again looks away, this time she turns to distantly study the healing potion in her lap, "What am I going to do, Imoen?" she just asks without making any movement to obey my command, "Gorion always told me what to do," she says.
"Yeah, well, he's dead," I blurt out bluntly, hoping it'll shock some sense back into her, "Time to start making your own choices."
"Yeah..." she draws out the word sadly, "We should go back and bury his body," she says in a suddenly clear voice. Throwing back her head, she brings the bottle to her lips and lets the blue liquid flow down her throat. She tries to jug it down all at once, without taking a break, and large quantities run off the side of her mouth and to the ground. Near the end she starts coughing violently, and it forces her to drop the empty bottle to the ground and draw in lungfuls of air at a time.
I sigh out of relief when the potion starts work its magic, and the wound on Shy's forehead grows smaller and smaller. It retracts almost completely, leaving behind only a small freckle, "Good, it's working. Do you feel better?" I ask when the cough spell dies down.
She nods her head a few times, takes one more deep breath and then looks at me with her scarily empty eyes. I recognize them from the morning. "It doesn't cure the fever, though," she says, swiping her mouth dry with the sleeve of her robe.
"It doesn't?" I ask a little worriedly. I thought it would. I thought it'd make everything better, "Well... um... how come?" I frown.
Shy struggles back on her feet, retrieving the staff on her way, and brushes the hem of her robe clean, "Cause that's just the way it is," she answers.
Right. So, what now? She's still got the fever, and we're at least eight hours away from the Inn. More than enough time for the disease to drain her empty again. Well, on the bright side, she's lucid again, maybe she has some good ideas. Right.
"We should've gone with those two," Shy says taking a few steps to go after the mad duo we just got rid of. Good idea number one right there.
"Sure," I shake my head and spread my arms wide, "They seemed to know what they were doing. Except that they were either hopelessly lost, or lying to us. This isn't the way to Nashkel."
Shy glares at me irately under her brow. It's a little creepy, the way she seems to become more and more angrier, the better health she's in. At least when she was huddled on the ground I recognized her for the girl I've known forever. I don't recognize this cold and distant figure with the attitude. The only explanation I can think of is that she's just burying all her emotions as deep as she can, so that she can function in some rational way. And when she's physically weak, she can't fight against them and they force themselves to the surface. The emotions. It makes sense, in a scary way. In time she'll be okay. The pain caused by the loss of Gorion will eventually subside. It has to.
"Let's just go then," Shy huffs and starts following the road away from Candlekeep. It leads some twenty yards to east and then turns north again.
"Shy," I call out after her, "Maybe we ought to leave the road. What do you think?" I ask and head to catch up with her. She remains quiet, but starts to look around her as if she's trying to find another way. "This road seems to be pretty heavily trafficked," I go on, "It's gona be easy to follow us, if we keep running into people."
Shy takes a few more moments to think it over, "That's true," she says turning an appreciative look towards me, "You think you can find the Inn, if we take to the wilderness?"
I nod a couple of times and smile, more to myself than to her, "Maybe," I say.
"Maybe?" she repeats dubiously, "Imoen, that doesn't sound too encouraging..."
"Well, Shae'Lynne," I say pressing her name hard, "That's all you're going to get. If we leave the road right here, head east instead of north, we should come across the road to Beregost," I start laying out the plan to Shy, trying to sound convincing. I do have my doubts, like maybe the map in my memory is flawed, but it wouldn't do any good to worry her with them, "Then we can just follow that road north and we should hit the Friendly Arm in no time."
She looks at me for the longest time, silently weighing out the plan in her mind. Sometimes she has a hard time trusting my schemes, they haven't always worked out in the past. But this one should be a piece of cake. The road can't be more than two or three hours away, and if we find that, then it should be child's play all the way up to the Inn. But again, only if I remember correctly.
"Okay," Shy finally nods her head, "We'll try that," she says, starting to move again. Correcting her course, she heads east, off the road and towards the rocky ground that seems to rise slowly along the way.
I lag behind again, "How bad is the fever?" I ask her. Leaving the road, I turn a full circle to make sure no one sees us going.
"It's not too bad..." Shy mumbles the answer, and I have no idea if to believe her or not.
Ahead of us, in the distance, I can see more trees again. Trees are good. They provide good cover. And also, they look pretty.
end of chapter two