„The Rain"
Jaheira woke up half an hour before the dawn, as always, slipping from the deep slumber into consciousness without any states between. She stretched sitting on her bed, clearing the last remnants of drowsiness from her mind. Her roommate was still fast asleep, apparently tired after yesterday's exertion and the celebration that went after. She would most likely wake up with a huge headache, the druidess knew from experience, from her ward's other 'mornings after', and thus she left a cup of water and one of her antidotes on the table. Usually she would find a hangover an appropriate punishment for overusing alcohol, but the situation far from usual. Who would say that blocking precognition was an ordinary reason to drink?
The common room seemed like a desolate space in a ghost town, after how she saw it yesterday. All the merrymakers were back in their cabins, under a tender care of their wives or parents, not a living spirit left back in the inn. Unlike the Copper Coronets' the furnishings were much more solid and survived the celebrations in one piece. Truth to be told, they looked as if they could survive a hurricane without moving from their places. Only one stool has suffered some extensive damage and it looked as if it had been hit with a fireball. A strange balance between the continued existence and decay could be found even in a village tavern, it seemed.
Jaheira made her way through the counter and found a boy she saw assisting the innkeeper, napping in a corner. It looked as if the owner of the inn was off to get some well-deserved rest, and left his helper to deal with everything. He was quickly burdened with Jaheira's specifications about her breakfast and hurried off, escaping the druidess' 'motivating' gaze. She took a sit near a window and watched the horizon, expecting the sun to appear any second.
The first to appear however was Xan, coming down the stairs, his expression as gloomy as always. He looked tired and drawn, as if he didn't have any sleep tonight and Jaheira knew that this time it couldn't be because of Minsc's snoring. The Rashemi berserker shared his room with Anomen on the other side of the corridor, and even a full-blood elf didn't have that sharp senses. He looked around the room, rather to avoid everybody in general than to find someone in specific, and noticed her. She could almost hear him gulp. Something was at hand, and not knowing what it was irritated her more than she would be willing to admit. She invited him to sit with her with a silent gesture. He approached the table looking like a convict led to be hanged, and sat down cautiously. She centered her eyes at him, waiting for her well known glare to do the trick.
"Nothing happened yesterday" Xan eventually broke the silence. She expected an over two hundred years old elf to put some resistance against such a simple trick, but he was shifting on his chair like a youngster making explanations to his parents. Something was definitely at hand. Jaheira had some suspicions, but none of the things she imagined might have happened could be a source of Xan's strange behavior. She made her frown deepen slightly.
"I… It…" Xan stammered awkwardly and then sighed with resignation. It felt a lot more like him. "She got drunk as usual, and I got her to her room. She couldn't stand straight on her own and I had to support her. We almost lost balance once and that's probably when my robe got undone. I've put her into bed as always…" he involuntarily stressed the last part, as if he was trying to convince everybody, including himself "…and left the room. I was tired because of having to almost carry her and I stopped by the door. That's all." His tone was almost perfectly balanced, giving the easiest explanation for all she saw. Still, I didn't make her believe a word from it, but she was surprised to know he could lie that well.
"I understand" she said coolly. He knew she recognized his lie, but said nothing more. They sat in uncomfortable silence for few minutes, when the serving boy brought Jaheira her breakfast and appeared with a portion for Xan moments later. She gave the enchanter a break from her mute questioning and began eating, but he didn't as much as spare a glance at his meal, stealing a furtive look at the stairs every time he thought she wasn't looking.
***
The rest of the party appeared an hour later, one hour that stretched into eternity for Xan sitting in front of Jaheira with her expressionless face and sharp eyes following his every uncomfortable movement. Daria was the last to descend the stairs and the druidess couldn't help but wonder how fresh she looked. After driving herself to such a state yesterday she should at least look pale. Even the best antidote couldn't clear up all the effects of hangover that fast.
"Good morning" Daria's voice wasn't as rested as she appeared to be. It was hoarse and if a headache could be heard it would sound exactly like that. She smiled cheerfully however. It seemed that avoiding nightmares was worth that and much more.
Xan looked at the table suddenly fascinated with one of many stains covering its surface. A faint scent of jasmine was surrounding the diviner and he felt like it brushed his skin slightly. He fought the heat he felt on his face with all might he possessed. If Jaheira had any doubts that his version of the previous night's events being at least partly accurate, they all vanished by now.
"I'm sorry for yesterday Xan. I wasn't myself. You know I wouldn't do that on purpose." Xan was actually considering whether he should tell Daria what happened and apologize, promising it would never happen again, but now he would give up all what was left of his possessions not to hear what she just said.
"Y-you remember…?" he couldn't manage to voice what she remembered.
"No, but from the bright shade of red on your face I gather that I said something again" she smiled lightly, but became serious immediately seeing the matter was serious. "I'm sorry. I hope it wasn't anything awful."
"No, you… I mean, nothing bad happened." He raised his eyes from the stain to look at her. He saw her watching him with concern and a bit of uneasiness, uncertain about his unusual behavior. Or rather he would see it were he not looking at her neck, her skin, her hair. He knew before she was beautiful, she drew many men's eyes during their travels after all, but only now he realized it truly, when she stood before him in a worn dark robe instead her white dress sparkling with protective enchantments, a scar covering her left cheek, an illusion masking the effects of tiredness and a place on her neck visible, a place he kissed. He knew every detail of this face, how it changed when she smiled or got angry, but he felt like he saw her for the first time. Somehow he never thought she could be beautiful to him. Something unbearably light, both unpleasant and blissful flickered inside him, but somehow it felt like it has always been there. Why has he never noticed it? With all his experience and outlook on life he couldn't accept something like that happening to him. Giving up to in would be a disaster, he knew that as a fact. He stood up forcing himself to look away.
"I'll be waiting for you to get ready outside" he said walking out the inn, without looking back.
"What did I do this time?" he heard the diviner asking Jaheira with resignation, before he shut the door behind him. He felt saddened that all traces of joy disappeared from her voice already, but shook his head. She'd be fine and he needed some time alone.
***
'What did I do this time?' Daria couldn't get the question out of her mind. Jaheira didn't know anything, neither did anyone else, which was strange knowing her habit to share her news with the whole world during the full moon nights. She could attempt divining, but should she try to move herself to the past she would still be drunk by then, and wouldn't be able to remember what she said. Her precognition was far from perfect and was useful mostly in looking forward in time, if she was conscious at that future moment. Regrettably she couldn't check if they needed to set watch at night or if anything was going to happen while she slept, but sometimes she had a bad feeling before the bigger incidents. Separating herself from the material world would help, but she couldn't simply ask Xan to guard her while she tries to determine what she did to make him so troubled.
There was also the point of his privacy. If she said something upsetting, she must have known it before she got her abilities blocked, but she couldn't remember discovering anything disgracing or embarrassing about him. Or was it just a minor thing, a touchy subject? Guarding others' privacy was her soft spot, as at most times she couldn't stop her visions each time someone near triggered them, with some strong emotion or obvious lie. She kept more secrets than she could count and did her best not to hint any way that she knows what Jaheira always keeps in her bag with medications, where did Minsc get one of his scars on the reverse, or the reason why Yoshimo avoided the docks district while moving through Athkatla. She struggled to keep away from her comrades' pasts, but when a vision came closing eyes didn't help. She used to apologize everyone in advance before sitting by the bar, but she didn't fool herself that it makes revealing the most private mysteries any easier to take.
'And one more night before me…' She already caused some unknown trouble, but even considering giving up to the nightmares again made her shiver. 'One more night…' Then she would apologize to Xan once more and wait until he talks to her again. 'One more night…' She needed to make provisions for one more night.
She left the inn after a rich breakfast sponsored by the town and a bottle of the strange alcohol she drank yesterday sloshing in her pack, a final gift from the innkeeper. Walked arm in arm with Mazzy, they discussed the road ahead. The halfling paladin wanted to return to her home in Trademeet, having enough of adventuring for now, but the party could escort her for some time on the road, if she was willing to accompany them while they take care of the Cowled Wizards' mission. The guide, one of the villagers, who knew the location of a cabin deep in the woods owned by an athkatlan noble, was already waiting for them by the village's square.
***
The way to the small house, situated on the edge of the forest only three hours from the village, gave the impression of being far longer than the previous full-day march from the temple, all thanks to their guide, an aging man named Jeb, who seemed to set himself an aim at insulting them at every step. From his words one could imagine that 'their kind' was the sole cause of all the problems in Imnesvale, including the Shadowlord, the ogres and the bad weather, and they were lucky that they finally cleared their mess up, otherwise the decent people would have to deal with them. He seemed to think he was making them a big favor leading them to the cabin, but he stressed many times that he only does it to get rid of them. Daria was clenching her teeth to stop any retort forming in her mind, reminding herself again and again that they need the guide, if she was about to avoid another headache ending trip. Her current hangover was bad enough already, Jeb's strident voice only adding to it. She had to restrain herself from asking how far it is to the cabin knowing it would only start another round of insults. Why did the mayor sent someone like that to show them the way?
Xan was avoiding her clearly, picking a place in the end of formation, behind her, walking along with Nalia and Mazzy, slowing down every time she got near. It was the first time ever he so obviously kept away from her, not even discovering her father's identity made him avoid her like that. Daria was marching by Anomen's side at the lead, not even attempting to listen to his praises of an order of paladins with some strange name she didn't care to remember. She tried to distract herself from the grim reality of Xan being angry at her, one more night of full moon ahead and Jeb's never-ending complains, but focusing on the larger picture didn't seem any better, when 'the larger picture' meant working for the Cowled Wizards.
She was overjoyed to hear their guide stop in the middle of an insult, hoping one of her friends finally had enough of him and cast a Silence spell, until she saw an arrow jutting out of his chest. Her eyes followed his body falling to the ground as if in slow motion, her hands instinctively forming the pattern summoning rock hard layer to cover her skin. 'The next arrow is aimed at your heart' she heard her own voice whispering in her ear. The projectile hitting her chest threw her out of balance knocking her to the ground. She screamed, mostly to warn her party than out of pain, as her stony shield materialized just in time to absorb the hit. More arrows shot from the cover of the trees, invisible archers protected by the camouflage made of leaves. All the party could do was to cover themselves, mages using their spells, warriors their armor, and try to distinguish the figures among the branches. Daria got to her feet and saw Anomen standing before her, his shield raised to shelter her from the source of the missiles. She focused, fighting the headache.
Adrenaline was pulsing in her veins, time speeding up and slowing down at once. She penetrated the forest seeing her visualization sharpening to its limits. Another set of gestures sent bright flashes of crimson to envelop the three rangers positioned on the branches of the highest trees, revealing their location.
"Yoshimo, the right one! Xan, Nalia, the left! Jaheira distract the middle!" she shouted before ducking behind a tree, hiding from the three arrows sent after her. As a leader she instantly became a first target to the missiles, moreover killing her would remove the vivid auras exposing the attackers. Actually it wouldn't, but she was aware that most of the non-mages were relying with their tactic on such rumors. She managed to send a magic missile from behind her cover before a shot pierced through her hand, breaking through the protective spell. She caught a glimpse of the archer being swarmed by a band of squirrels summoned by Jaheira, losing balance and falling from his branch. The second one was hit by a paralyzing charm, but she still had to avoid the third shot. She wrenched the arrow out from her hand, not even realizing how little pain it caused her, taking a moment to hide behind a tree, and focused once more. On instant she extended her arm and grabbed Nalia pulling her behind a large trunk moments before she would get hit by the remaining ranger's shot. The noblewoman fell clumsily, her eyes widening at the sight of an arrow stuck into wood in a place where she stood a second ago. Daria heard a scream of the last attacker and a thud of a body hitting the ground, but focused one last time, to make sure there's no one hiding in the bushes. Then she left Nalia still staring blankly at the arrow, and looked around to make sure everyone was alright. Anomen and Jaheira were already taking care of the minor scratches from few missiles which penetrated Minsc's heavy armor.
It was too late for Jeb, the shot aimed flawlessly into his heart, killing him instantly. Daria watched the dead body with empty look, feeling something stir inside her at the sight. She remembered she was happy that he finally stopped talking and something strange began to whirl in her head, a new idea, a thought that one can enjoy somebody's death. With startle she recognized the work of the taint of murder coursing in her blood, a poison to her mind, whispering lies and maiming her whether she wanted to listen to it or not. She kneeled and made a quick prayer to her god for safe passing to the afterlife. It was what she was meant to feel – pity and guilt, that was her choice. She learned a lot about the Bhaal's essence through her visions, but she was firm in her denial about her hidden nature.
All the wounds could be healed quickly, but she couldn't stop thinking she led her friends straight into another trap without noticing anything. An innocent man suffered, but she couldn't help but feel relief that it wasn't anyone from her party. What would she feel should another one of her friends die because she wasn't good enough at maintaining her visions? What would she feel if it would be Xan lying there on the ground instead, lifeless, the first target of the archers? What did she feel looking at Khalid's desecrated body in the dungeon, hearing Dynaheir is dead? She couldn't stop the memories of the horrifying night when they were captured from emerging. Her innate talent only made it worse making her once again witness the horrors of the Irenicus' rotten prison every time she let her concentration slip, the spells and knifes, and the worst torture – being convinced that she's the only survivor, that all others were dead because of her.
She was on the verge of breakdown again, tide of mad fear overwhelming any sanity she had for a second, but she fought back the trembling before anyone could notice something was not right. She felt a sudden need to scream, but forcefully cleared her mind centering herself solely on the present, letting all memories leave her, only calm oblivion of detached 'now' remaining. Standing up she raised her head to look at the trees releasing her soul from useless thoughts, visions disappearing from the view like sun behind the leaves and clouds, rain gathering above their heads to fall. Daria heard a saying long time ago, in Candlekeep, that there was perfection in every moment, and she dedicated herself to finding it now. She sensed first drops of moisture leaving their home among the skies beginning a short journey towards the ground. Or was it an eternal road? If a raindrop never realizes it's going to fall was it any different from never falling? For all others perhaps it was, but did it really had to matter so much? The rain was drawing closer, she could already feel the scent of the water, and…
"My lady!" The rain fell. A sob escaped her lips, but she masked it hastily with a cough. Anomen was standing by her, perturbed about her pierced palm. His shout ruined her trance, leaving her as shaken and hurt as before. She shrugged him off, not willing to have him look at her hand without a glove and called Jaheira, trying hard not to think about a perfect moment lost.