Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter 22
The fly in the ointment
"…And there it was, the prize, just sitting there in plain view, waiting to be unlocked. But as I was about to pick the lock, I heard the front door open. The wizard was home, hours before he was supposed to be."
A gasp. "Then what happened?"
"Ah, I had to improvise, of course. So, this was what I did…"
Coran leaned forward with the eagerness of an avid storyteller with Imoen as his rapt audience, both seated on the ground at the edge of a vast, ancient grove. Kivan and Elene were nearby, with the former completely ignoring everyone as he maintained his bowstring to keep the weapon in prime condition. The latter was ostensibly sharpening her sword, but Xan noticed she kept flicking curious glances at Coran.
Xan took a deep breath, doing his best to focus on the trees ahead rather than the scene before him. Seldom did he question Jaheira's judgment since they began travelling together, but he was questioning it now.
Oh, no doubt the delinquent elf was capable. He was almost as good as Kivan with a bow and quicker on his feet besides. Yet he wondered at his motivations, why he was so ready to let his employer leave without him, all in the name of a mad wyvern hunt. Granted, a 2,000-gold reward was nothing to turn one's nose up at, but was it all down to the coin?
At this point, Coran did not seem to know anything about the Iron Throne, but he suspected the man was a good actor. They would have to be wary with him. For all they knew, the foolish devil-may-care façade may just be for show.
They had been travelling together for more than a day with Seniyad, the path to the heart of Cloakwood winding and dangerous. Even with an archdruid leading the way, they encountered vicious spiders and ettercaps keen to make meals out of any foolish enough to pass through their domain. Occasionally, they heard the terrifying cry of a wyvern as it flew overhead. It had been a harrowing journey made safe thanks to the presence of two druids, a ranger, and a few rogues with sharp eyes for traps.
So there they were, at the edge of the grove where the druid circle make their home. An enormous tree loomed not far away, its branches large enough to have small sheds nestled on the boughs. Instead of approaching the tree, Jaheira bade the group settle themselves close to a set of standing stones while she and Khalid accompany Seniyad to meet with the circle. That had been an hour ago. The sun was creeping further east, it would turn dark soon.
As he finished his improbable tale, Coran caught Elene looking and grinned at her. Elene returned it with a hesitant half-smile.
Xan gritted his teeth.
Fortunately, he was spared further annoyance when his ears caught metal-tipped footsteps heading their way, heralding the return of their half-elven duo. He tucked the spellbook in his hands into his overcoat as he stood. Kivan looked up from his work as well, then began wiping his hands and putting away his things. Jaheira's expression was stormy when she came into view while Khalid looked consternated. Seniyad was nowhere in sight.
"We are allowed to stay near the grove, but not in their abode," Jaheira announced. "This circle is no longer welcoming to travellers, it is all Seniyad could do to keep the others from throwing us out on our backs."
"Is Seniyad no longer the leader here?" Xan quirked an eyebrow.
"He is, but…" she looked to the sky as she organised her thoughts, "I think the balance of power is fragile now. There are others queueing up to succeed him at any misstep. Others who are far less benevolent. We'd best watch our step while we are here."
"So, what do we do now?" Elene asked as she sheathed her sword.
Jaheira sighed. "The circle said they will commune before they decide what aid can be given for our task. We will find out in the morning. I have a feeling it will come with strings attached, even with Seniyad's intervention."
"What kind of strings?" Xan frowned.
"Likely something to do with that wyvern," Khalid glanced at Coran.
"What are we supposed to do? Hunt it?" Imoen asked, incredulous.
"Tomorrow will tell," Jaheira replied. "For now, let us get some rest."
Kivan stood. "I'll hunt us dinner."
Elene looked like she was about to volunteer to help, but the ranger stalked off without another word. Xan watched as her shoulders slumped and she instead busied herself with unpacking for the night, just as the others were. He'd noticed the two haven't really been on speaking terms since their conversation at the bandit camp. If anything, Kivan seemed to be avoiding her.
Xan approached her. "Give him time."
"I don't know why he's pulling away." She looked up at him, her eyes sad. "It's almost as if I did something terrible."
"Whatever it is, he needs to deal with it on his own." He paused. "It is, as you say, an 'elf' thing."
She smiled at him, but it was a weak attempt. The dark circles under her eyes had improved since their stay at the Friendly Arm Inn, but she was still a pale shadow of the girl he'd met in the mines. Gathering her sword, with a pouch in the other hand, she clambered to her feet.
"Well, I need to collect some reagents for something I'm working on. Won't be long."
He frowned at her. "You're certainly not going alone."
"Alright, come on then," she tugged at his sleeve as she moved past him.
Sighing, he went with her even as he wondered when she learned to be assertive. She signalled to Khalid to let him know, then they were off into the thickets. This part of the forest was denser than the southern portion they came from. The very air felt different, untainted by men. It reminded him of the Forgotten Forest west of Evereska, especially with the ancient oaks granting thick foliage that gave cooling shade throughout the day. He'd missed the days of his youth when they would go into those forests to study the edges of the Plane of Shadow. Back then, the worst that could befall apprentices like him was having rations go stale after a few days.
Certainly there was no threat of being eaten by wyverns there.
They were silent as they made their way to a rocky outcrop they had passed on the way to the grove. Small plants grew at the tip of the outcrop, which Elene made a quick beeline for, her eyes warily scanning the treetops for spiders as she knelt to trim the plants. Xan stood to one side observing their surroundings. They'd been jumped enough times by spiders in the past day that they knew to be careful.
"What do you think of our progress so far?" she asked as she set about her task.
He glanced at her. "What progress? We're rather stuck for the moment."
"You know what I mean," she chuckled.
"I think Jaheira has the right of it. Getting aid from the circle of these woods will improve our odds, especially since they know where the installation is. If they won't help us, at least we get their agreement that they will not hinder us either."
She hummed. "You don't seem to agree about taking Coran along."
"Noticed that, did you?" he gave her a humourless smile. "What do you think our 'friendly' kin?"
"Hard to read him." Her gaze alighted on him for a moment. "I'm worried the bounty notice has made it to the Gate, and if he's already seen it. He seems to look my way a lot."
Xan observed her, a lovely, guileless young woman with cheeks pinkened from the heat. He doubted that was the root of Coran's interest. The man in question was simply a simpleminded lecher trying his luck with any female in the vicinity. But in an odd way, he was heartened by her paranoia. That is what will keep her alive, just like his kept him alive through the years as a Greycloak.
"Best to keep your distance. We don't know his true intent," he advised.
Elene nodded, arranging the herbs she trimmed onto a small cloth, then gently rolling up the cloth to keep in her satchel. Once she was done, she stored her clippers, then wiped her hands on her trousers. Instead of getting to her feet, though, she turned to face Xan and settled back on her haunches, a pensive cast to her features.
"I thought about what you said. After the bandit camp."
"Oh?" Taking another look around and deeming it safe enough, he settled himself on a large rock, facing her. "And have you found the answers you sought?"
"In a way." She gazed at her hands. "For the most part, I realise that I do what I do because I want to survive. Just like any living creature, it's instinct. Most people, they survive by working hard, making sure they have food, a roof over their heads. For me, survival means being on the run. Survival means killing those who would seek my head. I don't feel like I have a choice in the matter."
"Unless you choose to lie down and accept death," he commented.
"That would be the easier path," she remarked wryly.
He studied her. "Is that all it is then? You kill to survive?"
"Doesn't sound right when you say it like that, does it? But honestly, what other purpose do I have at this point? I almost feel like a lost puppy trailing after Jaheira on her intrigues. I am grateful that she took me in, but I don't know if this Harper business is really my calling."
She ventured a small smile in his direction, her bearing uncertain, seemingly uncomfortable that she had bared the core of her uncertainty to him. It had been a long time since he'd had such honest conversation with anyone. His fingers brushed against his moonblade as he thought of his own life, and all that has happened since.
"I understand," he said.
"You do?" she raised her eyebrows at him.
"This may surprise you, but we were all young once," he smirked, before his expression turned earnest. "Did I tell you how the moonblade came to me?"
She shook her head.
"After I graduated from the magic academy, I stayed on there as a tutor. Not really because I wanted to get into teaching, more because I wasn't ready to join the ranks of those who defended Evereska. I got away with indecision for several years, minding my own affairs." His lips thinned. "That is, until my father died unexpectedly."
"If I may ask, what happened?" she asked.
"Mission gone wrong." It felt odd to speak of his family after so long. At least the pain that comes with the memories have faded over time. "My father was a Greycloak before me, a moonblade wielder in his own right. Tradition dictated that the blade is to pass down to his next of kin, someone from our family. My cousin Erevain disappeared in Icewind Dale many years before that, and the rest of our kin were either too young or too old to be considered, so I was the only real option."
He pulled the sheathed blade from his belt and laid it across his lap. "A harmless-looking thing. But to become its wielder, you must pass the bladerite. If you are of ill intent, or weak of character, you would be killed instantly by arcane fire."
She stared at him for a moment before her gaze turned curious. "Were you afraid?"
"Terrified, in fact," he huffed a laugh. "I still remember the day I drew the blade for the first time. Relieved as I was when I didn't get purged in a gout of fire, I realised that in claiming the moonblade, a purpose was thrust upon me. To protect Evereska to my dying breath. But that it didn't kill me meant that deep down, it had always been within me, the desire to protect my home. Perhaps the blade merely affirmed what had always been there."
"But if you die, your soul will be trapped in the blade. To power its magic until its purpose is fulfilled."
"Yes. Such is the price paid by all moonblade wielders." He sighed. "It was not easy, but I've made my peace with it years ago. Death is simply something we must all face up to when the time comes. Failure frightens me more than death. What is my life compared to the safety of my homeland?"
She tilted her head. "You still believe in your purpose, after all these years?"
"There are days I struggle with it, especially after what happened in the Mines," he answered slowly, eyeing the moonblade half-worried the sentient weapon would strike him down for his admission, "But thoughts of home often dispel that doubt. Evereska is not perfect but it is a beautiful spark in an otherwise ugly world. The jewel of elvenkind. Is that not worth fighting for? To preserve such a spark?"
Elene looked away. Her eyes took on a distant cast that he'd come to associate to her piecing thoughts together. It was a while before she spoke again.
"Your resolve is…admirable. But I admit, I can't relate. I don't really understand the appeal of fighting for a place and what it stood for. Perhaps we can embed our ideals in a place symbolically, but it's the people that make the place what it is. If the people are gone, would it still be something to fight for?" She shook her head. "I would struggle to call Candlekeep home now that Gorion's gone. He made the place home."
"To each their own, I suppose. I have no real family left in Evereska, but it remains home to me, because of what the kingdom stands for." He tapped his moonblade. "Personally, I wouldn't advocate binding your soul to a chunk of steel for half an eternity unless you're sure."
She chuckled, but the look she favoured him with was sympathetic. Almost as if she knew he had to live with the result of a life choice he'd made a century ago, when he didn't know much better. Her point resonated with him. He wondered if he would be able to defend Evereska based on the value he placed on the people, with their various flaws and shortcomings. Believing in ideals had always been easier for him. Otherwise, how could he continue to carry out his duty in the face of the horrors he'd seen?
"You said then, one must have a clear reason to take a life," she recalled. "Would you only do so if it serves Evereska? Does protecting Evereska mean dispensing death to those who do not directly threaten the kingdom? Where do you draw the line?"
"I do not relish my task at times but I will do what I must." He paused. "Of course, I would avoid violence unless as a last resort. Hence my preference for magics of the mind. Some stains you can never wash off your conscience. And you would do well to remember that."
"I hear you." She sighed. "I keep fighting because that's what Gorion would have wanted me to do. He died so I could live. And I can't let his death be in vain. So I fight, and I fight hard."
She tweaked the grass near her distractedly as she considered her next words.
"As for what I'd do with that life…I don't think I'd fight for something specific, like a cause or a haven to defend. I suppose I'd be content doing what we're doing now. Solving problems and helping people. Balance out the scales against the wickedness in the world where I can. It doesn't wash the blood off my hands but I'm learning to live with it. Knowing that I'm helping to balance the scales. But on my own terms." She looked up at him. "Does that make sense?"
He smiled slightly. "Sounds like you could be a budding Harper."
"Don't let Jaheira hear you say that," she smirked back at him. Then she glanced skyward. "We should probably head back."
Xan nodded and got to his feet, holstering his blade back to his belt. To his bemusement, she ghosted a touch on his shoulder as she moved past him.
"Thank you for sharing, Xan."
"I…" he ducked his head. "I hope that it helped you."
She smiled at him over her shoulder. "It did."
Taking a deep breath, he followed, trying to ignore the sudden feeling of being off balance. He was being a mentor to her, a thought partner, he reminded himself. She needed a counterbalance to Jaheira's mothering and Khalid's doting.
He was doing her a favour, nothing more.
The camp had been well set up by the time they arrived back at the grove, with the others in light discussion around the beginnings of a campfire. Jaheira gave the two elves a sharp look as she caught sight of them.
"Were you waiting for the herbs to grow before you collected them?" she asked archly.
Elene responded with a sheepish smile. "Would you like work on a batch tonight?"
The druid harrumphed but relented to prepare a batch of healing salves with her. Dinner was uneventful, with the fare being roasted rabbits that Kivan returned with. They set up watches throughout the night despite their proximity to the druid circle. There was no telling what the druids within agreed on during their commune, after all. They needed to be prepared for hostility.
Xan noted with approval that Jaheira set the watch rota such that she was on watch with Coran.
The night passed by without any sign of danger, up until the final watch with Xan and Kivan. Darkness was only beginning to lift when the enchanter heard footsteps coming from the druid enclave. He nudged Khalid resting closest to him, then scrambled to his feet.
"Kivan, rouse them," he told his kinsman as he strode forward to meet their approaching guests.
Seniyad walked at the fore, flanked by two men and a woman. They were armed and looked prepared for battle but did not brandish their weapons. For the time being, they did not look hostile. Xan kept his expression neutral and his hands loose at his sides as the stony faces came into speaking distance. He wondered if he could get off a Confusion spell before they jumped him. For his sake, he hoped he would not have to put that idea to the test.
"Good morning, Seniyad," he greeted the archdruid with a respectful nod.
The old man tilted his head in greeting. "And to you. I trust you have had a good rest, Master elf. I would speak with Jaheira."
"I am here," Jaheira stepped forward, already sharp and ready despite being her abrupt awakening. "Have you decided on our next course?"
Seniyad nodded. "The circle will aid you in striking the Iron Throne base."
"Is there a 'but'?" Jaheira arched an eyebrow at him.
"You know our ways," his lips quirked. "In return, you will aid us in culling the wyvern that terrorises the woods. The creature cannot be allowed to continue its rampage in the farmlands, it will only bring more armed men down on our heads. That is the last thing the circle here wants."
"Why can you not handle that yourselves?" she shot back, annoyance colouring her tone. "The Oakfather allows us to cull creatures that have gone mad and upset the balance. It is in our tenets."
"Do not quote our tenets, mongrel," hissed the woman accompanying Seniyad.
"You are not one of us," agreed another.
It was subtle, a blink and you miss it thing, but Seniyad shook his head at Jaheira.
"Ah, I see how it is," she lifted her chin. "You would not endanger your own for such a task, but our blood is fair game." She levelled a cool look at her former mentor. "This circle has changed much since I was last here, it seems."
"Such are the terms for our aid, Jaheira. Do you accept them?" Seniyad asked, ignoring her jibe.
"And if I refuse, we must make our own way to the Mines? And be harassed by your hounds every step of the way?" she rebutted, casting baleful looks at the other druids.
Their cold smiles answered her question even though they said nothing. Seniyad also remained silent, but he looked almost pained at what was transpiring. It was apparent that his hands were tied. Xan glanced at Jaheira, noting her cold fury. The more 'militant' members of this circle had the upper hand somehow.
"Very well," she finally replied through gritted teeth. "We will see to your wyvern problem. And you will aid us in our task with the Iron Throne."
"Good." Seniyad gestured to the woman on his right and then a man to his left. "Faldorn and Takiyah will take you to the wyvern's lair and render what assistance they can. I will prepare the others for the strike on the installation."
With that, Seniyad and one of the druids departed, leaving Faldorn and Takiyah behind. Faldorn was a fearsome woman, with dark woad markings adorning her face and her teeth filed down to resemble that of a shark. Her dark hair was pulled back into a long ponytail, which had various wooden beads woven into it. Takiyah was more nondescript, a broad, brown-haired man dressed in fur-laden armour, his eyes shining with a predatory glint.
"We move now, mongrel. Before the wyvern rises for its morning hunt," Faldorn snapped at Jaheira.
Jaheira advanced on her, eyes narrowed. "Call me mongrel again and you will miss your tongue when I rip it out, beast."
Xan put a hand on his moonblade even as he saw Takiyah begin to finger the cudgel at his belt. The air was thick with tension.
Then, Coran glided over to put his hands out between the two women. "Ladies, come now. You're both far too lovely to be beating on each other like this. Let's work together on this, the wyvern isn't going to sit there and wait, after all. Shall we get a move on?"
Two intense glares landed on him, and he swallowed as both women contemplated ending him for his remark. Eventually, though, Jaheira took a step back, then jerked her head towards the rest of the group.
"Let's get moving."
Xan exhaled slowly, dropping his hand. They packed up their belongings at record speed, then set out north trailing the two inhospitable druids. As they walked, Takiyah explained that the wyvern lair is a cave not far away. Apparently, the creature had tried to attack the Iron Throne base but had been hit by a ball of fire coming from within the compound, and it never made the attempt again. Elene sent a worried look at Xan as they heard this. He knew what she was thinking. A ball of fire launched from within sounds like they could have a mage on guard.
Breaching the Iron Throne base was a problem to be addressed later, he supposed. They would have to survive this mad wyvern hunt first. He glanced at Coran, who was trying to engage Elene in conversation as they moved along.
At least they brought bait, he thought drily.