Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 12

The merging lanes

Thirst. That was the first thing Elene became aware of as she surfaced into consciousness. An unusual dryness permeated her throat, which felt raw and painful. She tried to swallow but found that everything in her neck area struggled to cooperate.

Then she opened her eyes. She was greeted with the symbol of a gauntleted hand with an eye in the middle emblazoned on the white ceiling. She blinked, disconcerted. Apparently, she was not in her room at the inn.

Isn't that the holy symbol of Helm?

"Good morning."

Moving just her eyes, she saw Jaheira sitting close by, already dressed in her leathers. There were more beds around the room, but they were empty. The bedding felt coarse and starchy, the room was generally spartan and smelled of herbs and disinfectant. Everything here reminded her of the infirmary in Candlekeep when she'd fallen seriously ill in her fourteenth summer. Gorion had sat by her bedside for those three horrible days as she recovered, perched close by just like Jaheira currently was. She couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the memory..

She tried to open her mouth to speak but Jaheira raised a hand to forestall her. The druid handed her a cup of water.

"Drink first."

The water was heavenly, but she could only take tiny sips. She returned the still half-full cup to Jaheira when she was done. As she began to feel the water trickle down to her stomach, flashes of memory from last night made her bolt upright, her hand on her neck.

The boy with the necklace. Imoen screaming. Blood everywhere. The uncanny warmth in her hand as she pressed it into her bleeding neck and willed her body to mend itself.

Just like in the mines.

"Imoen," she gasped, "She alright?"

Jaheira huffed a laugh, shaking her head. "After what happened, you worry for her? She is unharmed. Fortunately, the elves were on hand to deal with the assassin." She leaned forward in her seat. "It was a very near thing."

The two women studied each other for some time, stuck in an impasse of sorts. Jaheira clearly had a burning question on her mind while Elene had no idea how to explain herself without bringing up the incident in the mines. And the frightening dreams, the commanding whisper from her dreamscape which haunted her into the waking world, telling her that she will learn. No doubt the druid would be upset that she'd kept such things to herself all this while. But with all the events in the past week, there was never a right time to tell her any of these things.

And the truth of the matter was, she was afraid that giving voice to her fears would make them all the more real.

"When I got to you, you were bleeding from the neck. Imoen said the assassin had cut clean through, and the damage was extensive. Yet the jugular was oddly intact." The druid tilted her head. "As though it had been healed within seconds of the cut."

Elene looked down at her hands but said nothing. So, Jaheira continued.

"That's not all. The elves said they had trouble with the assassin, who seemed able to dodge projectiles with ease. But the tide turned when two daggers hit the man from behind. Where he least expected it. And why should he expect it? His quarry should have been dead by then, as befitting the work of a skilled blade." Jaheira's eyes narrowed. "Rather odd for a dead person to just get up and fight, don't you think?"

"Quite…odd," the girl replied, barely audible.

The silence stretched for a few minutes with Elene refusing eye contact. After a while, Jaheira sighed and leaned back in her chair.

"Gorion used to write to us every year," Jaheira remarked quietly, surprising her ward with the change in topic. "I never imagined him to be of a disposition to care for a child, but he spoke of you as though you were the best thing that ever happened to him. Likened you to a lodestar," A wistful smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. "He said you started commenting on his treatises in your seventeenth summer. One of his proudest moments as a parent, apparently."

Elene swallowed. It didn't hurt as much this time, but her chest ached something fierce.

"What I'm trying to say is," Jaheira clasped her hands together, "You were the most precious thing to someone I held very dear. And he entrusted your safety to me and Khalid. We take the responsibility very seriously." Here, she paused and levelled a meaningful look at the girl. "But we don't know how to protect you if you keep secrets from us."

After another long silence, Elene finally looked at her guardian. "I…don't know how to explain it."

"How do you eat an elephant?"

"…what?"

Jaheira quirked a small smile. "One bite at a time."

Chuckling, Elene rubbed at her eyes tiredly. "Wise words. Perhaps…the rest should hear this as well."

"Even the Greycloak?"

"Well. If he is to travel with us, he'd be exposed to the dangers of associating with me. Whatever that might be. He has a right to know."

"I suppose that's fair," Jaheira replied. She sounded neutral but Elene sensed that she was not comfortable with the decision.

"Is there…something wrong with Xan?"

The druid's brows knitted together. "There's nothing wrong with him per se. But understand that everything he knows will make its way back to Evereska. I don't care much for elven politics, but it may have a ripple effect on you later. Your kin have long memories."

A wry smile was Elene's response. "If I don't survive in the short run, the long run won't matter."

"Ha. Spoken like a philosopher." Jaheira rose, knees popping as she got to her feet. "Rest, child. I will get the others."

Glancing out the far window, Elene guessed it was mid-morning. Breakfast time for Imoen, she thought fondly. She then gazed at her hands, the slim, dainty things that they were. There was power in them. If she was honest with herself, this power seemed to feed off the souls of people she killed. She'd read many histories, tales and legends during her studies, of vampires and liches that fed on souls, but never anything like this. Briefly, she wondered if Gorion knew something, but was simply unable to tell her before tragedy struck.h

Don't worry, I will tell you everything when there is time.

Sighing at the one of her last memories of him, she propped herself up on her pillow and thought about what Jaheira said. One bite at a time. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Sure, she could do that. Her special ability was out in the open now. There was no point trying to hide it from the people she would like to consider her friends.

In hindsight, she really should have come clean in the mines. She hoped she wouldn't disappoint Jaheira.

After what felt like a long wait, Imoen burst through the infirmary door. Gone was the girl in the pink dress and flowers in her hair from last night, this Imoen was dressed in dark leathers taken from the woman hunter outside Nashkel, ready for serious work.

"You still alive in there, ya bufflehead? I was so worried for you!"

Elene chuckled as her friend perched anxiously on her bed. "I'm fine, Im."

Imoen winced. "Does it hurt? Looks like it's gonna scar."

"Just sore." Elene rubbed her throat, suddenly feeling self-conscious. It's going to scar?

"I'm so glad you're okay, Lene." Imoen reached out to squeeze her hand. "We…shoulda seen that one coming, huh?"

"We'll be more careful next time," she promised.

Behind Imoen, Kivan, Xan and Khalid filed into the room before Jaheira closed the door. Khalid pulled another chair for himself, but the two elven men remained standing by the foot of her bed. Jaheira reclaimed her original seat by her bedside. Looking at each of them in turn, Elene couldn't help but notice how tired they all looked.

"What happened…after, I mean?" she asked, concerned.

Jaheira answered. "As far as Nashkel guard is concerned, we helped rid the world of another blade for hire. The man's name was Nimbul. He came in with the carnival troupe a few days ago then blended in with the local scenery, as you saw." The druid exchanged a loaded look with her husband. "He had some…interesting papers on his person."

Elene's eyes widened and she looked to Kivan. "He said Tazok sent him."

"We know," Kivan replied, his face inscrutable. "Why is he after you, Elene?"

She frowned at him. "I told you. I don't know any of these people or why they're trying to kill me."

"Well, I think it's safe to say you are no ordinary young elf," remarked Xan, his tone deceptively mild.

Kivan's searching gaze was intense. "Who are you, really? Why would he be after you?"

Elene flinched at the suspicion in his voice. It sounded foreign to her ears.

"What kind of question is that? She's exactly who she says she is, Elene from Candlekeep. She was just a librarian!" Imoen interceded angrily on her behalf.

Swallowing, Elene steadied herself. She glanced at Jaheira, who nodded encouragingly. One bite at a time, right? "It's…alright, Im. If it will help earn their trust, I will tell the whole story." She paused. "And I was a scribe in training, if you please."

So, she told them of how Gorion took her in after her mother died in childbirth, of her sheltered upbringing in Candlekeep, surrounded by men and women who had devoted their lives to the pursuit of knowledge. How she was only allowed to venture outside of Candlekeep for brief excursions to the nearby woodlands or beach after Imoen arrived in her tenth summer.

And yet, Gorion ensured she had the best education in all matters, going so far as hiring a dedicated swordmaster to teach her. In magic, Gorion taught her himself, even prepared multiple spell components for her in case she would have need of them. When Imoen came along, she also learned some sleight of hand to help her friend pull off pranks. Although frowned upon, she was never obstructed from learning that skillset from Imoen and the resident rogue, a cheery old halfling named Deder.

On an intellectual level, she always knew there was something a bit strange about herself. Elves didn't mature that quickly, for one. Generally, parents encouraged their children to play outside, not shut them in with multiple tutors to crash course life skills they'd probably never need. She'd had trouble going into reverie for years when terrifying nightmares of war and death began plaguing her. But she was raised in isolation, away from her own kin. She had no real-life benchmark to compare to, only what she'd read in the library's books. And yet as the years went by, she felt deep in her bones that there was a yawning schism between what she should be and what she really was.

Eventually though, she opted to don the robes of an initiate Reader, hoping that it would give her life focus, help calm the internal turmoil brewing in her. She'd entertained the notion of becoming a Lorekeeper, but Gorion discouraged her from the clergy without really explaining why.

"That's the real reason why ya wanted to be a Reader? You never told me." Imoen asked her quietly.

"I didn't want to worry you." Elene offered a smile. "Honestly thought it was just an elf thing."

Xan shifted at that, but he waved for her to continue when she sent him a questioning look.

Years went by in idyllic peace until the fateful day of their hurried flight from Candlekeep. Elene walked through the events that followed, with Jaheira and Khalid chipping in at certain points. She spared no details on the three bounty hunters they'd encountered, one at the Friendly Arm Inn, one in Beregost and one in Nashkel.

Her voice shook when she explained what happened with the bounty hunter who managed to slip into her room. A red haze seemed to hit her, pushing her to ensure the kill even after the woman was as good as dead. After which, she was visited by a vivid dream resembling the ones which plagued her as a child, only much more malevolent.

"That was on the night we left Nashkel?" Jaheira wanted to confirm.

Elene nodded, lowering her eyes. Jaheira pursed her lips but held her comment.

The elf girl skimmed through most of the event at the mines until she reached the part about Imoen's wound from the flanking kobold. She described what she did as best she could, mentioning the warmth in her hand as she pushed that strange internal energy into her friend's back. Even keeping her eyes down, she could feel five sets of eyes staring at her intensely as she finished.

"You…healed me? But how? You're no cleric."

"This explains much," Jaheira remarked. "I thought the wound looked too shallow."

A slew of questions was asked concerning what Elene did. Was it a conscious act? What did it feel like? Where did the energy come from? How did she feel after? Elene took the proverbial poking and prodding in stride, answering as best she could, which did not enlighten much. At the end of it, all of them looked about as baffled as she felt.

Kivan narrowed his eyes. "Did you dream after the Mines?"

"Yes. The night you saw me thrashing in my sleep." Elene scrubbed at her face. "I saw Mulahey. Dead, bloated. His spirit was waiting in the dark for me to end him again." She looked to the ranger imploringly. "But I didn't want to. He was already dead, there was nothing to be gained from it. And then I felt something, I don't know what it was, get angry that I refused to do it. It was unnerving, like someone walked over my grave."

"Did you use the same healing ability after Nimbul…you know," Khalid asked.

"Well, yes in a way. The spark," she gestured vaguely at her chest, "was stronger. I put my hand to my neck and the worst of the damage just slowly went away. I would've been dead in seconds otherwise."

"How did you manage to get up and fight?" Xan wanted to know.

Elene glanced at him. "Honestly? I don't remember much after I healed myself. Just…instinct. Next thing I know, I was in this bed and it was morning."

Silence reined for a long while as her companions processed the new information. There were varying degrees of concern on each of their faces, but Xan merely looked contemplative, as if trying out several theories to fit her explanation. For her, she felt tired and as confused as ever, but at least now she also felt relief since the cat was out of the bag. It was a heavy burden to bear on her own. She was glad that she now had others to share it with.

"It is not an 'elf' thing, just so you know," Xan said suddenly, his expression serious. "I am sure Kivan can attest to that as well. There is something unique about you, Elene. You were raised in utmost secrecy in an isolated fortress. There must have been a reason why. Your adopted father, are you sure he never gave any hint of your parentage?" The question was to Elene, but he glanced at Jaheira as he asked.

"Only that my mother was an elf from the High Forest. And that I look like her. My real father, he never mentioned." She decided to take the cue from her kinsman. "Jaheira…did he ever tell you?"

"No, child." Jaheira shook her head. "Your mother was someone he knew from before he met us. I'd asked him about it before but insufferable man that he was, he avoided answering." The druid sighed. "Now I wish I'd pressed him harder on that."

"We thought…if it didn't matter to him, it shouldn't matter to us," Khalid added.

Kivan spoke up, "What about Gorion? Did he have enemies?"

"We cannot dismiss it out of hand. He had a prolific adventuring career," replied Jaheira carefully.

"You mean he was a Harper," Elene pointed out.

The husband-and-wife duo stared at her. Xan raised an eyebrow at that.

"What? Secret correspondences, unusual research, that pin." Elene huffed. "I'm not stupid."

Xan, Kivan and Imoen looked critically at the half-elves as they all came to the same realisation. They had been inadvertently working with Harpers all this while. Khalid cleared his throat, throwing a quick glance at his displeased wife. "We weren't implying that, my dear." He placated his ward. "You are…right about Gorion."

"But ya said that armoured figure that attacked you…he wanted you," recalled Imoen.

Elene winced. "I know. And now Tazok is after me. I don't know if they're linked."

"They must be," responded Kivan instantly. "This operation is too elaborate for that brute to come up with alone."

"Everything seems to be tied together somehow, Elene. Your origin, your enemies, the plot engulfing this region," remarked Jaheira. "I get a sense that the only way to solve your mystery is to get to the bottom of this iron crisis. As Kivan said, I doubt Tazok is the source of all this rot, but he is a key link to the real mastermind."

"Then we gotta find Tazok," Imoen concluded.

Xan interjected. "The name Tranzig appeared once again, this time in Nimbul's letters. Apparently, he is Tazok's trusted courier. He should know where the creature makes his base. We already know from Mulahey that Beregost is his transit point."

"But why would this Tranzig want to speak with us?" asked Elene.

A quick look was exchanged between Xan and Jaheira, so quick she almost missed it.

"We can…persuade him to have a conversation," he answered cryptically.

"Then we proceed to Beregost," summed up Kivan. He gestured to Elene while looking to Jaheira. "When can she move?"

"By this evening, I think. We have all we need from this town. Unless you feel otherwise?"

"No. No, you're right. We should get going soon," said Elene.

"Elene, you must tell us if you get more of these dreams. I do not know what portents they bring but they are clearly a sign of something." Jaheira reached out to squeeze her hand. "We will help you get to the bottom of this."

"I…thank you, Jaheira. And all of you, as well." Elene sighed. "I thought I was done for last night."

"Too many close calls," groused Kivan.

Elene spared him an apologetic look. Despite his gruff demeanour, he'd been the one to pick up the pieces for her after nearly all the bounty hunter attacks. He was under no obligation to protect her, and yet he did it anyway. It was almost good news to find out that they were now after the same person. That means they could hunt the beast together.

Xan canted his head as he considered something. "If they are looking for someone who looks like you, perhaps you should stop looking as you are."

"Like get a disguise?" asked Elene.

"Or learn the right spell."

Elene's eyes widened as she shot Imoen an excited look. "Do you know it? Could you teach me?"

"I suppose I have the time today. Luckily for you, this spell doesn't need components."

"Can I learn too?" Imoen was also almost vibrating with excitement.

"Oh, might as well," Xan sighed.

Jaheira got to her feet. "We will leave you to it then. We can meet at the inn at fourth bell."

Nods of assent greeted her suggestion. As Khalid, Jaheira and Kivan took their leave, Imoen shook Elene's forearm. "Before we head off later, I gotta show you the cool boots Nimbul was wearing. I think they're perfect for ya, Xan said you can dodge arrows with them on."

"Not completely," Xan cautioned her. "The enchantment only warns you of incoming projectiles."

"Oh? That sounds useful," Elene smiled.

Xan studied her face as he extricated his spellbook from the folds of his overcoat. "If I may ask, how many summers are you?"

"Twenty."

He blinked in shock, then seemed to quickly recover his wits. "You are correct. Elves do not mature this quickly."

She nodded awkwardly, then opted to change the subject. "So, about this spell?"

As they eased into the impromptu magic lesson, she reflected on the past week. Despite the cumulative near-death experiences and the continuing challenges of living on the road, she felt like she was in a decent position. It was as if Gorion had invested in all those lessons to prepare her precisely for this life. Combined with the experienced companions sharing the path with her, she began to feel more confident that she would be able to survive this Year of the Banner after all.

Author's Note:

End of Phase I. Hope you've enjoyed it.