Chapter Twenty Seven: Companions

Planar Sphere, 20 Hammer, 1370 DR

 Imoen and Apheyr stood next to each other, looking out of the solid diamond window at the stars that glimmered outside the sphere. It was beautiful, being able to see the mystery of space just two inches away from her.

 The Planar Sphere was floating in the safety of space, where next to nothing could track them down- and if it did, it would find it near-impossible to penetrate the massive egg-shaped fortress. And what a fortress it was, with so many people now kept safe within its solid, unbroken walls.

 Firstly, Valygar Corthala, who was nervous at the magic of the thing, and nervous at returning to it, but who had gradually settled down. Then there was Jaheira, who was staring at everything Imoen had wrought with sheer wonderment. None of the other major companions of the Bhaalspawn had survived, but there were others who were powerful in their own right, and who were key targets, and allies of Kathryn.

 The three other druids from Trademeet Grove, a moon elf by the name of Kelevas, whose pale skin made him seem ghostly. An ambassador from Silverymoon, called Lydia- an archmage, accompanied by a retinue of six wizards from the city. Three knights of the Flaming Fist, Lords of the Gate who did not wish to die at the hands of assassins… three merchant barons from Athkatla, seven sages from Candlekeep… the list went on and on, sometimes minor, sometimes major.

 It was a bit like putting all ones eggs in a single basket, Imoen supposed, but what an egg! The enemy that would want to defeat the Companions, as they liked to call themselves, would have to be potent indeed.

 "Archmage Imoen?"

 The soft and gentle voice of Apheyr brought her from her thoughts, and she stared into his startling eyes, "Yeah?"

 The air genasi licked his lips, and it occurred to Imoen that he was nervous. "Apheyr would like to tell you something… but he wants you not to become troubled by it. He can leave if you so wish it…"
 Imoen raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

 Apheyr took a step back. "Apheyr wants to tell you that… that he… he… that is to say, he is… what he means is… you are… he… likes… likes… you? Likes you a lot? Oh, this is embarrassing! Apheyr loves you, Archmage Imoen."

 She raised a hand to her gaping mouth. "Really?"

 A simple nod.

 Imoen frowned. What did she think? Did she love Apheyr? Certainly she had developed a fondness for his awkward speech and lack of knowledge about innuendos and sarcasm… he wasn't bad looking- his blue skin made him quite striking, and he was quite pretty… and he was certainly clever, and courageous, and commited…

 She found herself listing all his qualities, while looking into his eyes, and then she found herself smiling. Yes, she did love him. That admission startled her. Imoen, who had never found any use for boys, other than pleasure, had admitted she was in love?

 "Apheyr… I… I… I love you too."

 The smile from the air genasi made her giggle, wondering why she felt so light-headed, and giddy. She had become aware of how close he was to her, how little effort it would take just to wrap her arms around his waste, how soft those blue lips looked, how tender they would be to kiss…

 She blushed.

 "Archmage Imoen?"

 Breathlessly, she answered, "Yes?"

 "Apheyr would like to kiss you."

*

 They all gathered in the massive centre of the planar sphere in silence. Only an hour ago, at night time on the primal plane, something had happened, something that had the mark of Helm emblazoned across the Realms…

 Scrying, Imoen had been able to locate the source of the disturbance, and was amazed to see Nalia, Anomen and Keldorn in her glass of shifting water. Nalia was smiling, Keldorn was looking on in approval… and Anomen… he was shining! His armour was strange, yet glorious, and on his brow he bore a silver circlet that shone with the all-seeing eye of Helm… Anomen had been named leader of the Order.

 Prelate Anomen.

 Imoen smiled, and looked away from her scrying glass- directly into the eyes of a goddess. Kathryn stood in the massive room, shining with her soft blueish, pinkish light, her white hair flaring, her eyes crackling with the intensity of her power. Her might had increased greatly in the past few weeks, with the Church of All Song acknowledging her, and the High Priests of every church proclaiming her greatness and mercy across the Sword Coast…

 "Imoen… you have seen what has transpired?"

 The archmage nodded. "Yes. Anomen has become the most favoured of Helm within Amn. He will lead the Order against the evil- there is hope again, my friend."

 The bard-turned-god nodded. "So it would seem. But this action by Helm will precipitate the moves of the evil gods… already, the ogre Empire moves. Murann is in danger, if Nalia fails. I need to ask you to do something, Imoen."

 "Anything, my lady."

 The goddess smiled. "Thank you Imoen…" She looked around the room. "I need you, and all of the Companions within this room, to travel to Murann. You are to marshall their garrison, help the defence, use every magic at your disposal to defend the city- Nalia cannot fight all the forces of the Empire. Some are bound to penetrate. Be ready for them when they do… you Companions, who have been my allies through my mortal life, shall help the forces of good prevail. Know that if you die, you will be protected by me, and whatever other god you serve. Serve with honour."

 And with that, she disappeared.

 Imoen looked around, and said, "Well then… it looks as if Murann is our next destination."