The dark room was back; it seemed that every time she went to sleep, now, she returned to this place. Aenwyn had thought that the dreams she had had when first discovering her heritage had been bad, or the dreams of Irenicus and Imoen. But these were far worse; the faces of loved ones, of those left to die or dead in her wake, it was their faces which haunted her. Their images lasted long after she had awoken and wandered the tense streets. With nothing to occupy her time, she dwelled on her thoughts, becoming more withdrawn each day.
"You wonder," the voice said, the voice she had waited for in the darkness, "you wonder whether these dreams you have are real or not."
She honed in on the voice, trying to discern to whom it belonged. Which victim taunted her tonight?
"Because if they're real," the voice went on, "then that means the guilt you feel can only double. And if they're not, you're losing your mind."
Ah, she recognized him now. Who else to better taunt her sanity than the one who had almost driven her mad in her search for Gorion's killer, all those months ago. "Sarevok."
Her brother stepped into her vision and smiled. He didn't wear the spiked armor as when she had last seen him, but instead was dressed in a simple tunic and pants. Apart from his enormity and glowing eyes, he looked like a normal man. Yet even in death he held a regal bearing about him, an aura Aenwyn had admired even as she fought him beneath Baldur's Gate. He was so assured of his course of action, so secure in his identity.
"I have waited for a chance to talk to you, little sister," Sarevok grinned. "Ever since you killed me, since our father's essence was ripped from me, I have waited to confront you again."
"But you have no power over me now," she pointed out. "If you intended to do battle, you'll be disappointed."
The large man laughed mirthlessly. "I don't think you know yourself half as well as you'd like. Do you know where we are? We are in you. Down in your darkest recesses, the most tightly locked chambers of your soul." The shadows quivered as if alive.
"I don't have a soul," she cut in.
Sarevok sneered. "I cannot believe you killed me, weakling. Do you think you could have survived this long without a soul? You disgust me with your behavior; you wait and hide while your companions finish your work for you. You claim illness and pretend that you cannot fight your own battles, but I know better. We share the same divine blood-"
"Shared," she smirked.
"And divine creatures like us do not fade away as easily as mere mortals. The wizard stole a part of you, but not all. He took your mortal soul but he cannot separate you from Bhaal's essence. Our father is what keeps you alive. He would be ashamed to know that you squander your potential."
Aenwyn folder her arms. "I watched your plans for your potential bring your own death, Sarevok. Don't think that I will follow the same path. I know enough not to take anything from Bhaal willingly."
"It's not a matter of accepting," the man countered. "You have no choice; your purpose is to become a vessel for him. I have learned since my death that we are only meant to empower our father and bring him to life. The essence within you will gain control, whether you accept it or not. Soon you will lose yourself altogether. You've already begun, haven't you?"
Aenwyn thought of her transformations into the Slayer under Spellhold but said nothing. She gripped her arms about her body and stared defiantly at her brother.
He laughed. "You lack courage but have a strong will. That will give you time. But not enough. Never enough." He stood beside her, and had he been alive she would have felt his breath on her skin. "Let me give you a word of advice, dear sister. If you wish to continue this foolish notion that Bhaal will not control you, you had better find your mortal soul soon, or else you will lose yourself forever. That is the only thing holding the essence back, and you cannot fight alone. If you wait for your friends, it will be too late. They will return to find the Slayer, and then they will die."
The shadows skittered around them, chittering restlessly, and they looked around. "Father grows restless," Sarevok grinned. "He senses your weakness and will test your limits. I wouldn't imagine it long, now."
Then the shadows sprang to life, phantasmal Slayers rushing at her, clawing, biting, sending hate through their glowing red eyes.
She sat up in Mazzy's guest room covered in sweat. It was almost dawn and the world was still. She lay back, knowing she wouldn't sleep anymore. Not that it mattered; she was always more tired waking up than going to bed, and she was beginning to dread the thought of night. If what Sarevok said was true, her dreams would only get worse.
"He's not real," she reminded herself. "I will not allow nightmares to govern my life. I am still in control, and I will soon be normal again." Sarevok's laugh rang in her ears. Normal, you'll never be normal.
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"By the time we made it to the Friendly Arm," Jaheira said, "Aenwyn had been gone for a week. We tried to find her, but had no luck. It seemed every time we had a lead on her location, she had already left. It wasn't until her fight with Sarevok in Baldur's Gate that we managed to see her."
"S-she and her friends were praised as heroes," Khalid added. "And w-we saw them parade through the city when the imp-pending war was averted. But there were too many people, too many guards to reach her. And when we finally gained a visit to the Ducal Palace-"
"She had left again," Jaheira finished with a sigh. "Something about a voyage across the ocean. There was no hope of tracking her there, and urgent business elsewhere called our attention, but we have been looking for her ever since. When we made our way to Amn, we heard that she had been spotted. Again we were too late, however."
"We had already left for Spellhold," Valygar said. The half-elves nodded.
"B-but some friends notified us that you had returned to the city, and we hoped that Aenwyn was with you."
"She's-" Aerie began.
"Safe for the moment," Valygar interrupted. "We decided that her presence in Athkatla might be…less than helpful. Rumors of her heritage."
"Hmm." Jaheira accepted this explanation with a frown but only shared a glance with her husband.
"We understand your concern for her safety," Khalid said kindly. "She has led a hard life since leaving Candlekeep. But we assure you, we mean her no harm. We were friends of her father, well, her foster father, and merely wish to see her and confirm her safety. It g-grieves us very much that we were not able to fulfill his wish as guardians." And indeed Khalid looked rather mournful after his speech.
The listeners shared glances. Unspoken agreement traveled through them, and the tension eased from the room. "I suppose we should get you up to date on events." Valygar gestured and escorted the half-elves into a sitting room. He passed Aerie on the way, murmuring, "Cast whatever divinations you have to ensure their identities and loyalties." The elven girl stared at him for a moment, then nodded and followed him into the room, to stand discretely by a wall.
Branwen chose to gather her equipment and head off for the smithy, not wishing to rehash details of Aenwyn's life with strangers. It hurt enough thinking about the girl in such danger; she didn't care to spread that pain.
"I will be back by sundown," she told Anomen on her way out. He nodded, eyes on Aerie in the next room.
"I suppose I will visit Sir Keldorn alone."
When Anomen reached Keldorn's home, he paused in the entryway. The serving woman had led him inside and gone to fetch her master, but come back with a harried expression. "Perhaps you should come back later, milord and lady are not in the mood for visitors."
Indeed, Anomen heard shouts further in the house, shouts which sounded suspiciously like Keldorn and his wife, Maria.
"You've survived the Underdark," Anomen muttered to himself, "you can survive this. Please," he said to the maid, "I realize this is a bad time but I must see Sir Keldorn."
The woman gestured for him to lead the way, her worry mirroring the emotions roiling in Anomen's stomach.
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Aenwyn handed the girl a bag of coins. "Go to the Temple of Waukeen and use this to buy a restoration spell. That should fix the damage, and you can return to your husband."
Raissa tearfully thanked her and rushed away. Aenwyn looked back at the bodies of the skin dancer and his accomplice; one less threat to decent people. Raissa's husband Tiris had sought the Bhaalspawn out, knowing her reputation, and asked her to rescue his wife. With little else to do at Mazzy's, Aenwyn had agreed, only to discover that the tanner she thought never to bring to justice had traveled to Trademeet and continued his twisted work there. She felt doubly good for saving an innocent couple and ending the threat of the tanner once and for all.
She headed back to Mazzy's slowly, as there was no hurry to get anywhere. In the past few days, she had recovered her health, thanks to Cernd's potion, and was now restless. Mazzy admonished her for so much activity, thinking she should spend the entire stay in bed. Aenwyn was winded after the minor skirmish with the skin dancers, but it was nothing compared to the fatigue she had increasingly felt since leaving the Underdark. There was no need to worry.
"Greetings, jaluk," a voice said from the shadows behind her.
She spun, hand on sword, but a spell was already upon her and she dropped to her knees, recalling an image of the disastrous entry into Spellhold before the blackness dominated everything.
"My child." Gorion's voice brought her from the darkness.
"And I thought this time I might sleep in peace," she muttered as she stood in the featureless room she was getting used to seeing.
Her foster father stepped out of the darkness immediately. "Aenwyn, you are in great danger."
She couldn't decide whether to laugh or groan. 'What's new?' she thought, but she only greeted her father aloud. "I assume you mean Viconia. I didn't get a good look, but I think that was her. And…Yoshimo?"
Gorion nodded. "You are on your way to Irenicus; your mercy for Yoshimo has allowed him to survive and continue to work for the mad mage. Irenicus has decided that your destructive potential as the Slayer would be an asset in his current project. A foolish decision, but that should come as no surprise by now."
She thought this over for a moment, then examined Gorion. He looked much as he had in life, save for the gaping sword wound through his chest. It didn't seem to bother him, however, so she ignored it, knowing it was there to bother her. "What choice did I have? Yoshimo and Viconia betrayed me because of the desperate situations they were both in. Even with my heritage I had the fortune of friends to help me. I was not alone."
"And now?" Gorion pressed. "Where are your friends when you needed them?"
"That's different," Aenwyn said. "They're in Athkatla to help me. They're risking their lives for me."
"What guarantee do you have? How do you know they haven't just left you here?"
The woman closed her eyes and concentrated on waking up. Seeing her foster father berate her friends was almost as difficult as facing Imoen or Durlyle. Again she wondered how real these dreams were, and how much fever went into them.
"I am truth and I am not," Gorion said suddenly, making her jump. "I am not the mortal man you knew in life, merely an imprint he left upon you. I am what remains of Gorion inside of you, just as the others were shades of life. I share Gorion's memories, know what he would say to you now. He would want the child he threw away his life for to know that she was in danger, and his life was wasted in trying to help her."
"I'm still alive, aren't I?" she retorted.
"For how long? Even if you survive, you will give in to your taint and lose yourself forever. You are not fighting this, Aenwyn, my darling."
"Don't call me that!" she snapped, advancing on him. "You are not Gorion."
Gorion sighed. "You understand so little. I see I was wrong in keeping so many things secret. I can only hope to fix things from beyond the grave. All your life you have run from trouble instead of facing it head on. You ran from Sarevok when he killed me; you ran from the bounty hunters after you; you fled Irenicus' thugs when they came for you."
"How did you know?" Aenwyn whispered, tears filling her eyes. She had repressed the memories of that night, when her companions had been ambushed by figures in the night and she had run, knowing herself outmatched. "I never told anyone about that."
"Cowardice is in your veins, child. Murder is not just killing, it is fear directed against another. Does the paladin stab his enemy in the dark? Does the executioner slip the guilty poison in his meal? Murder is cowardice in physical form. You are a child of death, yes, but you are also a child of fear and weakness. It's only natural for you to run away from your problems."
By this time tears were streaming down her face, and they hardly slowed when she realized she was looking into Yoshimo's sad eyes.
"Apologies," he said, "but we must be on the move and we risk too much time in carrying you. You will have to walk."
Viconia snorted from somewhere. "How can this weak girl be of use to your master? She is a disgrace to her sex, sniveling from a bad dream."
Aenwyn turned to the drow. "And why are you following a madman's orders, Viconia? I had thought you smart enough to realize doom when you saw it. You might be a heartless bitch, but you're no idiot."
The drow smirked. "I follow no one's orders, jaluk. I know an opportunity when I see it, however. After you callously abandoned me to die in the home of my people-"
"You betrayed our presence to the drow!" Aenwyn screamed.
"I learned of Irenicus' plan to overrun Suldanesselar," she continued. "If I aid him, I might regain some measure of power among my people. And if a few darthiir are killed on the way, so much better."
Yoshimo frowned. "We should continue on if we want to reach the city soon."
"Of course," Viconia said, sliding up to him and nibbling his ear while staring at Aenwyn. Suddenly, she shivered and looked around. "That feeling," she said to Yoshimo, "it's back. I can feel Her searching for me. She wants her revenge, and it won't be long…" Fear was not something Aenwyn was accustomed to hearing in Viconia, but it choked the drow's voice now.
Yoshimo laid a hand on her shoulder. "We will be in Suldanesselar soon and you will be safe there."
"For how long?" Viconia demanded, then regained some measure of control and gave a tight smile. "We should continue moving."
They were in an old-growth forest which let in little light, making the travel difficult. The ropes around Aenwyn's wrists increased the difficulty, and it was with relief that some hours later they called a halt.
"Someone's here," Yoshimo whispered.
A slight figure stepped out of the trees ahead. "Might I ask some noble travelers to listen to a poor elf's tale of woe?" the man said.
"Coran?" Aenwyn asked. She hadn't heard that voice since it had taken Safana from the group shortly before it was captured by Irenicus. She wondered if the thief were nearby.
"Lady Aenwyn! A friendly face in such a time! I know you will help me!" Coran stepped forward and noticed the bonds on her wrists. "Er, perhaps not."
"What is it, fool?" Viconia snapped.
Coran hastily explained that Safana had been captured by wolfweres deeper in the forest and he couldn't rescue her alone. "Please, you must help me!"
"We have no time," Yoshimo said, and continued walking.
They had only gotten another few steps when Safana emerged from the darkness. "Fool!" she snarled at Coran. "I told you they wouldn't believe you. After what we did to Aenwyn, I didn't think she'd risk herself saving me."
"She didn't know of our deal with Irenicus," Coran said, causing the sinuous woman to groan and the elf to look abashed.
"You betrayed me to Irenicus?" Aenwyn gasped. "That's how you conveniently left before we were ambushed?" This, combined with Gorion's words, sent her tumbling away from the reality she had thought herself in. She stood there, stunned, while the others continued to talk.
"She had a nice bounty on her head," Safana told Yoshimo. "Seems there's trouble to the south, armies marching. I can get quite a lot of gold for her from any of these armies. Enough gold to split with you if you help."
"I have learned that bounties are not always what they appear," Yoshimo replied. "And had I a choice, I would not be leading her to death, but the time for regrets is past. I suggest you forget you saw us, and all involved will be much happier."
Snarling and barking came from the trees, and Coran's tale of wolfweres didn't appear a complete lie. Safana smiled. "Then I won't need to split the profits, which is fine by me." Several wolf shapes darted into view as Viconia called upon Shar for spells and Yoshimo readied his katana. Aenwyn still stood dumb, unseeing as to the inevitable fight.
As an entire pack of wolves approached, the ground trembled and Viconia released a wail. "She has found me!" she cried, crouching in terror.
A fissure opened in the ground between the two groups, and a claw emerged from it; a second followed, and a monstrous form climbed to the surface, followed by a slighter figure. An enormous demon stood in the forest with a drow priestess, bellowing bloodlust and rage.
"Lolth has found me!" Viconia cried again, cringing behind Yoshimo. Safana and the wolves cowered as well, but Coran jauntily loosed an arrow at the beast.
It did little damage but evoked a snarl from the demon. Time seemed to speed up as everyone moved at once. The wolves leapt at the new threat while Safana slipped into the shadows behind the priestess. Yoshimo hurried to Aenwyn's side.
"Your life is worth more than mine," he muttered as he loosened her bonds. "You must run, or else we are both doomed. Do you understand?" He shoved her away and turned back to the fight. "Go!" he cried over his shoulder.
Aenwyn jerked to life and stumbled through the trees, not knowing where she was headed, or much caring.