Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 20

The thief of hearts

The waves dashed against the rocks below, white froth forming where the water met stone. Dark clouds gathered ominously overhead. Gone were the beautiful cerulean skies of summer. As the calendar crept past mid-Eleint, the weather inevitably grew stormier as the season changed.

Elene lingered at the window she was supposed to close, breathing in the salty air. The sound of the waves almost lulled her into a meditative state. Unlike the older scribes, she preferred the western façade of Candlekeep. Being so close to the waters lent a faint air of anticipation, at the open seas that she would likely never venture onto in this lifetime. She didn't mind the occasional spray of ocean mist that somehow made its way up to the higher floors.

For a few long moments, she could just enjoy the sound of rough seas. And not think about last night's dream.

"There you are."

Surprised, she turned to see Gorion approaching. He was dressed as ever in his grey and black robes, a book in his hand. His features were lined with concern. It was odd, but she'd always remembered him this way, old and worn. Never a young, happy man. She wondered if he'd ever been one.

"I offered to close all the windows on this wing before the rain set in," she said by way of greeting.

He gave her a small smile, but she knew she was not fooling him. "That's good of you. For a moment, I thought you were avoiding me.

"I…why would I be avoiding you, Father?"

"Oh, I don't know. Perhaps since you did not turn up for breakfast nor shown yourself in the main reading rooms all day?" He sat on one of the benches lining the walls and beckoned for her to join him, his expression unreadable. "But then again, I could be imagining it."

Swallowing, she sat next to him, her hands clasped on her lap. He said nothing for a while. Eventually, he sighed and reached over to put his hand around hers.

"Did you have another dream?" he asked, his voice gentle.

She closed her eyes, savouring the quiet for a few breaths. "Yes."

"What did you see?"

A long pause went by. Gorion sat motionless, his patience seemingly endless.

Then, finally, she answered, "A…battle. On a wide, cobbled bridge, a moonless sky overhead. Men in dark armour clashing with swords. Until one of them scored the killing blow." She cringed, curling her fingers tighter as if enduring a phantom pain. "It was horrid, Father. It felt like I was there. It felt as though it was me who was killed. I…can't get it out of my head. I don't know what any of it means."

More silence greeted her. She glanced up at her foster father. His eyes were glued to the floor, lines of worry creasing his forehead.

"Nor I, child," he finally spoke, but his voice was thick with an unknown emotion. "It could be something, it could be nothing." His hand tightened around hers in a fatherly, reassuring way unique to him. "But I do know you should not allow it to shape your waking moments."

"You mean I shouldn't mope about it," she furrowed her brows at him.

Gorion chuckled. "By all means, mope if it makes you feel better. Once you're done, however, you may want to pick something up to help you move on with your life. Preferably something useful." He handed her a book. "Like a good read, say."

Sceptical, she turned the book in her hands. It was thicker than it first seemed, she could feel the weight and age of it. 'A treatise on astrolabes and the ability to capture time' was written on the cover in fine gold lettering.

"I don't know. This…seems a bit dry for me," she ventured uncertainly.

"Read until the middle. Unlike most of the other material on this topic, this one actually tells you how to build one," Gorion leaned in to whisper, all faux conspiracy.

Her eyes lit up as she pulled back to look at him in awe. "Build one? By myself?"

"If you wish. I could get the materials you need for your sixteenth name-day gift next month." He smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You can do whatever good you set your mind to, my child."

Elene opened her eyes with a jerk, mindful of someone's hand resting on her shoulder. Blinking, her vision adjusted to the soft light of dawn, the sky starting to brighten with the new day. Her vision quickly focused on Jaheira's face not far from her own. The druid was already dressed in her armour, with a staff in her other hand.

"Are you coming?" she asked without preamble.

Groggily, the elf nodded, still shaking herself out of reverie. "Yes…give me a moment."

She sat up, grimacing at the usual stiffness of laying down in a rigid leather gambeson. Only four days had passed since they left the Friendly Arm Inn and she already missed the creature comforts of a bed and uninterrupted rest. She yearned for the day when she could become a powerful enough mage to conjure pocket planes leading into elaborate abodes with transmuted beds and quilts, where it was always warm and cosy.

Assuming she survived long enough to achieve that, of course.

Gathering her weapons, she caught up to Jaheira as she was about to set off into the surrounding trees. She managed to flash a quick smile to Khalid and Xan as they left. Imoen was still fast asleep and would only wake up when Khalid got breakfast started. Their remaining companion was likely off on one of his solo patrols.

"This area is where I would expect harlthorn to grow. Do you remember what that is used for?" Jaheira asked even as she set a brisk pace through the trees.

Elene racked her brain, a challenge to recall so early in the morning. "Er. Some kind of herbal drink?"

"And?"

"It…cures things?"

Jaheira let out an annoyed huff and proceeded to repeat the properties of the harlthorn useful in preventing infection in wounds. If they were lucky, they could also find dathlil flowers nearby, small white flowers with petals that can be turned into antivenom to combat minor poison. Elene tried hard to commit all the knowledge to memory, but the druid's teaching style was more rapid-fire than the methodical instructions she used to receive from the tutors in Candlekeep.

When she'd made the 'modification' to Jaheira's salve, she didn't expect much interest from the druid, much less the sincere offer of a full-blown lesson in herblore. The druid took to teaching the same way she did everything in life: forcefully. Elene began to wonder about the unintended consequences of her actions, if it was worth the days of snippy lectures and early mornings to hunt for ingredients.

And yet, these bruising lessons from Jaheira took her mind off the more disturbing elements of her life. The dreams she'd thought had faded with age were back in full force since they started hunting Tazok and had grown steadily worse since the bandit camp. This taunting voice kept hissing to her in the night, simultaneously foreign and yet as much a part of her as her own hand.

"Such pride undeserved, great predator, when your whole being is borrowed. You were made as you are, and you can also be broken."

Unconsciously, she began rubbing circles over her heart. The pain she'd felt when the phantom dagger struck her likeness in the dream was unlike anything she'd ever experienced, like her whole being was being rent asunder. It reminded her so much of the distressing vision she saw years ago in Candlekeep. What did any of it mean? The years may have given her new mentors and more knowledge, but still she was unable to find the person who could shed light on what was happening to her.

"Are you listening?" Jaheira asked, her tone sharp.

"Dathlil petals must be boiled before I can turn it into paste, yes. I heard that," Elene responded quickly.

Years ago, Gorion had gotten her to build a simple astrolabe from scratch. Now, she supposed she could help restock Jaheira's depleting stores of salves and poultices. Of late, the hours she'd devoted into trying to learn this new skill tired her out. It helped her get more rest, if in a roundabout way.

Jaheira halted them at a large patch of thorned shrubs with leaves the shape of arrowheads. Not wasting time, the two women set out with their clippers to collect both leaves and thorns. Elene wiped sweat from her brow after a few minutes' quiet work. The days were usually warm in high summer of Eleasis, but unlike the Wood of Sharp Teeth, the dense foliage of the Cloakwoods seemed to magnify the heat in uncomfortable ways.

The trees in the Cloakwoods were tall and ancient and grew very close to one another. Where there was a traversable path, they were covered in shrubs or undergrowth with thorns or prickly leaves. On top of that were the animals, mainly wolves. They had run into some spear-wielding tasloi, small hairless humanoids which also called this part of the wilds home.

It almost felt as though the Cloakwoods were designed to keep people out. And yet, observing Jaheira, the druid looked almost at home in their current surroundings.

"Are those dathlil?" Elene asked, pointing to a patch of ground flowers nearby.

Jaheira peered at them. "No, the petals are too big. Close, though." She then glanced at her ward. "You seem to be in a pensive mood. Are you alright?"

"Doing better today," the elf gave her a faint smile. "Maybe this spate of nightmares will peter out with time, like it did years ago. Doing all this focuses my energy in the meantime, keeps my mind off it at least."

"That's good," the druid remarked, pleased. "Alright, I think we have enough for this morning."

Elene secured the last thorn and sealed her pouch. They returned to camp in silence. When they were close enough, they caught a waft of porridge in the air, signifying that breakfast was ready. Sure enough, the rest were already digging into their breakfast when they arrived.

"Heya, saved some for you," Imoen waved at them.

"Thanks, Im," Elene smiled as her friend handed her a bowl.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Xan asked.

"Some of it, yes. We didn't want to wander off too far," she answered before tucking in.

Xan made a non-committal sound. "Either way, we're all liable to get eaten the longer we spend in these woods."

Elene chuckled. For an elf, he certainly wasn't the nature-loving type.

"So, what's the plan today?" Imoen asked.

"We will be heading north until highsun, then start westwards. The terrain will slope as we go along, so be prepared for that," Kivan replied as he cast his eyes above. "And I found a deer carcass not far from here. Expect more wolves."

"Wolves will be the least of our concerns as we head further in," muttered Jaheira.

They did not tarry long after their meal was done. By the time the sun crested the horizon proper, the party had already begun their journey for the day, with Jaheira and Kivan in the lead. Khalid and Imoen followed closely after with the other two elves bringing up the rear. While woodcraft was not their strong point by any means, they made up for it with sharp hearing to detect threats closing from behind.

"Another slow day, from the look of it. Might as well we carry on with your spellwork, hmm?" Xan commented, looking for a distraction from the heat. "You mentioned the other day you'd like to try your hand at charm spells."

Elene nodded. "I saw you use it at the bandit camp. The men were fighting one another instead of us."

"Ah, that one," acknowledged the enchanter. "Mind you, I was only able to affect them because they were weak-minded beings to begin with. It would be harder to take control of a stronger foe. Could just as likely backfire on you as it would benefit you."

She shrugged. "I've never tried enchantment spells, my studies centred on abjuration and illusion."

"I've been meaning to ask…why those two in particular?"

"Well, illusion spells are only limited by your imagination. There were so many things I could do with them. As for abjuration, Gorion wanted me to be able to protect myself. I didn't understand why at the time, but…" she clenched her jaw as a pang of regret hit her, "I suppose we know why now."

Xan cleared his throat. "I see. Since you're well-versed in illusion, enchantment shouldn't be too much of a step up."

"You think so?" she glanced at him curiously.

"Enchantment usually requires three things. A target susceptible to charm, formidable will and strong charisma. Most humanoids can be brought under charm. I had my doubts, but after seeing you at the camp, I think you have the will for it. As for charisma, I suppose you could leverage on what you already have."

"What do you mean?"

He shot her an incredulous look, as if annoyed at the question. "You've seen yourself in a mirror surely. Beauty is its own charm. One of the most powerful tools for an enchanter is their appearance. When the audience is enraptured enough by how you look, it makes them more susceptible to your spell."

"Oh."

Elene walked on for a bit, feeling mildly discombobulated. For a while, the only sound they could hear was that of their own footsteps and surrounding insects. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Xan had schooled his face into a mask of utter neutrality as he realised what he'd said. But she caught the nervous bob of his Adam's apple.

Did he just compliment me?

She didn't know what to think of that, so she chose to focus on something else. "Er. How does one leverage on all that? Make eye contact and focus down one target?"

"That increases likelihood of success, yes." He seemed relieved that she chose to gloss over what he said, reverting to teaching mode with gusto. "In a casual setting, you could implant a suggestion unnoticed if you keep the casting gestures subtle. It takes a bit of practice but it's doable. Such minor charms will not work in the heat of battle, however. On top of the spell casting, you will need to truly focus on your target and bend their will to yours. It requires a certain level of mental focus."

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but how long did it take you to learn all this?"

A wistful expression flickered through his face so quickly she almost missed it. "A decade, a decade and a half maybe. From basics to specialisation. Mages are taught in an academy in Evereska, we weren't allowed to practice the spells outside of it until we were competent enough not to hurt others and ourselves. You've had good grounding in magic education in general, but real speciality takes time and effort."

She hesitated before asking, "What made you choose enchantment as a specialty?"

"I was told I had the face for it, for one." A wry smile curved his lips, though it didn't reach his eyes. She wondered if she'd ever seen any of his smiles reach his eyes. "But deep down, I've always wanted to understand the deeper workings of the mind. What shapes behaviour. What drives each of us to do what we do. Conjurers create, evokers destroy, enchanters ultimately strike at the very thing that makes you who you are."

Xan wouldn't feel out of place in Candlekeep, she decided. She would have loved to see him debate with the stuffy mages who frequented the library, men who could recite texts from memory but had no idea how to change the world with what they knew.

"You're the right person to learn from then," she smiled at him. "So, what do you think would work best for a beginner?"

His features turned thoughtful. "There is a spell I can suggest, if you wish to try it."

Any awkwardness between them faded away as the morning wore on, with Xan's calm voice going through the mechanics of the spell he had in mind, punctuated by questions from Elene. It was a situational spell, she thought, suitable when facing bunched up enemies. Cast at the right time to control the right enemy, it could sow chaos among their ranks. The good thing was that it required no components, she thought, making it an excellent addition to her growing repertoire of utility spells.

Once the teaching part was over, she moved on to ask on other things, like the moonblade and if it played any part in his magic. He in turn wondered about the types of texts kept in Candlekeep, whether it contained works from fabled elven scholars. Elene felt that she could almost forget that they were in the middle of a dangerous mission and imagine that they were just two friends having a pleasant academic conversation.

Of course, that was when reality decided to rear its ugly head.

A sharp whistle from the front brought them both to an immediate halt. Elene drew her sword as Xan drew on his magic for protection. They moved up quickly to regroup with the rest, already hearing the growl of wolves even from many yards away.

"How many?" Elene called out to Kivan as she caught up.

"At least five," was his grim reply.

"So many," she whispered, bringing her blade up as the beasts closed.

Six fur-covered creatures burst out from the thickets before them, but all Elene could focus on were their teeth. They were exceptionally large for wolves, with canines almost the length of her throwing knives. Oddly enough, their fur was patchy and matted, and they reeked of carrion left to rot in the hot summer days.

"Abominations!" Jaheira yelled, striking one of them in the skull with her staff.

Elene had no time to wonder at the druid's curse as two of the wolves zeroed in on her. Fortunately, an arrow from Imoen struck one on its side, eliciting a pained howl from the creature. The other lunged for Elene, aiming for her leg. She dodged it neatly, striking down with her sword as she did. It struck the beast square on its neck, causing it to careen away, mortally wounded.

The second beast was slowed down by its wound, thus easier to deal with. To her horror, after she'd put down the creature, the first beast was still limping towards her trying to attack even though its head was leaning to one side at a grotesque angle. An arrow pierced its eye before it could close in, putting paid to the last wolf in the pack.

"What in the…these aren't normal wolves!" exclaimed Imoen.

"No," Jaheira replied quietly, wiping her staff on the ground. "These are dread wolves."

"Necromancy? Here?" Xan frowned.

Swallowing, Elene glanced at the carcasses. Now that she had a good look at them, they did look like zombie wolves, their ferociousness and speed not in line with their skeletal frames and rotten appearance.

"Might not be the case. There may be another force at play here."

"Like what?" Elene wanted to know.

Jaheira shook her head, already moving away from the scene. "Just a suspicion for now. Let us move quickly. And stay close. These wolves were sent out to look for something. And we certainly do not want to be found."

With that ominous thought, they followed the druid in silence. They broke through the thickets the wolves came from with caution. Although the threat had passed, Elene couldn't help but feel a prickle of discomfort as they passed by a huge old oak tree ringed by yellow ground flowers. She had a distinct feeling they were being watched.

"My, my, what do we have here?"

As one, the party drew their weapons and whipped their gazes to search the branches of the oak tree. Instead of a raiding party or a terrifying foe, a lone man sat high up on the tree's bough, almost hidden in the leaves. Elene raised her hand to shield her eyes from the sunlight trickling through the leaves, squinting up at him. Was he grinning at them?

"I'd expected a band of mighty marauders to walk over after dealing with those wolves. Not a trio of flowers and their loyal beetles," the man chuckled. "Perhaps this is my lucky day, after all."

Kivan already had an arrow trained on him. "Who are you?"

"Come now, let us introduce ourselves as friends," he replied, his arms spread wide. "My name is Coran, a citizen of Baldur's Gate. I would happily come down to shake your hand, kinsman, if you promise not to shoot me."

Kivan lowered his bow with a glare but kept the arrow ready to draw. Heartened, Coran proceeded to climb down from the bough, demonstrating remarkable agility in doing so. He dropped to the ground with a triumphant 'Hah!' next to the ranger, still with an amused grin on his face.

For an elf, he was not as fine-boned as Xan or Kivan, his face in particular looking somewhat rounded for one of their kind. Multiple gold earrings lined his pointed ears and small accents and trinkets tastefully decorated his otherwise plain leather armour. His chestnut-coloured hair, bright hazel eyes and bronzed skin marked him as a wood elf like Kivan. He looked ready to offer his kin a handshake but changed his mind when he saw Kivan's stone-faced expression.

"Thank you muchly for not turning me into a pincushion. You lot seem to be a good sort. May I have the pleasure of your names?" he tilted his head expectantly.

"First," Jaheira stepped forward, "You will tell us what you're doing here. It's a long way from Baldur's Gate, 'friend'."

"Why, the same reason anyone ventures into these woods. For adventure, of course!"

Imoen stifled a giggle as Jaheira's glare intensified.

"Or, well," Coran backtracked. "That's how it started, at least. The past few days have put paid to that idea somewhat. My fellows and I were escorting a group from the Merchant League on a hunting trip. We were supposed to be hunting wyverns. The creatures had begun terrorising farmlands outside Cloakwoods, you see. There was a bounty put up for their demise by the honourable Kelddath Ormlyr and we Baldurians just couldn't resist the opportunity."

"I doubt you were looking for wyverns up on that tree," Xan observed drily.

"Sharp man." Coran tipped his imaginary hat at the mage. "I was running from those undead wolves you've thoughtfully gotten rid of. My thanks again for saving my neck, I don't think my rations would have lasted beyond two days," he chuckled nervously. "We had a run-in with the local druids a few days ago. They have not taken kindly to our presence here and decided to do a little housekeeping, so to speak."

"Druids sent those creatures after you?" Jaheira's eyes widened.

"Particularly angry druids, yes. They didn't think we had any right defiling nature with our continued breathing, simply because we're from the city." He sighed. "I was lucky. Some of my fellows weren't. I need to get back to our employer and make sure he's alright. Knowing him, he's probably holed up in that fortified log cabin of his."

Then, his shrewd eyes studied the group. "Say, I could use a bit of help. I am but one man facing against the combined wrath of nature. What say you help a fellow out? I'm sure Aldeth will reward you handsomely for your efforts."

"We're not mercenaries," Kivan bit out.

Jaheira laid a hand on his shoulder. "Be that as it may, I am interested to find out more about these 'druids'."

"If Aldeth is still alive, they would come after him. Like I said, they were an angry bunch."

"Then we will go with you to meet this Aldeth," the druid replied. "I am Jaheira."

Taking her cue, the rest of the party gave their names as introduction. Elene went last, feeling exposed without her hood up and wondering if her bounty had made its way to the Gate. She hoped not. Coran watched her with interest, eyes twinkling.

"Ah, a flower by any other name. Pleased to meet all of you. With such a band coming to my aid, the day can only be looking up," he bowed with a flourish.