„Taming the Slayer"
Waking up in a pool of cold water wasn't pleasant, but being able to breathe at last was recompensing more than enough for this minor inconvenience. The last thing she remembered was being surrounded by icy-cold water, drowning, but no one give her time to ponder how she got wherever she was. Cold slippery paws forced her to stand the moment she stirred from unconsciousness and she was pushed into arena of some sorts. On the opposing end of the oval ground a giant beast stood, a two-headed ettin. It took her a moment to compose herself enough to stand straight when the fish-smelling paws let go of her, leaving her in her drenched robes alone with the monster. Heavy doors slammed shut behind her back.
She let her eyes slid through the ettin like it was made of air and instead she looked around. To her left, on a balcony placed safely over arena's wall on a statue shaped like some sort of golden half-mantis half-ray, stood her companions, without their weapons and under the guard of the same strange creatures that invaded Galante. By their side looking at her curiously, was another creature, obviously of the same kind as the guards, but significantly bigger and… pinker. It had four clawed arms, long spike-like teeth and was covered with scales, whiter and thinner on its stomach. On its back there was a violet pink crest, probably a sign of a significantly high position in the social hierarchy of the fish people…
A direct hit of ettin's club sent her flying, it came as a complete surprise as she kept watching the fish king, and she hit the stone wall of the arena with a crack of breaking bones. She should have lost consciousness instantly, but she didn't, she just watched the snarling monster approach to deal the finishing blow. Watched with growing anger.
All her supposed friends were standing by the edge of the arena, paralyzed with fear, but none of them tried to call her or help her despite their guards. They feared of her, of the Slayer, just as much as they feared for her. They feared it would emerge again. Her death or her change – which one was worse? She didn't know that and neither did they.
But it wasn't that she didn't know how they felt, didn't see the quick glances every now and then, every time she made a sudden move. Every time she touched any of them, even accidentally, she could actually feel the tide of sudden terror they felt, the quickening pulse, the sweat. They feared, all of them, even Jaheira, her mother.
Just like Viconia said. She had an unlimited potential and she became a nothing.
She had enough of it. SHE HAD ENOUGH!
The two-headed giant loomed over her like a mountain, casting a shadow in which she laid, broken, in pool of her own blood, strangely unaware of her own body. Death could meet her here, by the paw of unwashed monster too dumb to hold a weapon any more complex than a pulled out tree. But she was in no mood to die now.
Elven bones could be broken very easily, but Slayer's scales were much harder. An elf could faint from the loss of blood, but avatar's mind remained clear as long as it could kill. And she was already chosen to become an avatar.
The club fell again, pinning her to the ground, but Daria felt she could laugh at the beast's clumsy attempts to kill her. Building herself anew, without the scars, without the breaks, she stood up, effortlessly tossing off the heavy block of wood. Spikes grew from her arms and shoulders, piercing through her clothes, long talons sharp as if designed to cut a god tore her gloves to pieces and she stood reborn, the vessel of murder.
Her muscles tensed when Slayer's unseeing eyes centered on the dumbstruck ettin. The attack came before the surprised monster managed to utter 'huh?'.
She took off the sad remains of the gloves from her hands and looked at her fingers. They were slim and straight, without any bends or breaks, her brown skin covered with blood, but not with scars. Her hands looked better than she ever remembered seeing them.
Her clothes were ruined, full of holes and sprayed with ettin's innards. She stepped from the torn body, now not even resembling anything humanoid. All her scars, her entire body, seemed like it was made anew without any flaws left from Irenicus' dungeon. It was like she was still a powerful Slayer, but the appearance changed to resemble her previous weaker form. The same strange confidence, the instincts, the strength – it felt as if all of it remained in this new shape.
She tried out few more complex gestures and the sea devils holding her friends froze, held by a perfectly formed Hold Spell. Sahuagin, she remembered the name of the monsters at last, from one of her lessons in Candlekeep concerning the races living underwater. The beasts were known to be a plague bothering small ports and even bigger cities placed near the sea, mortal enemies of the peaceful sea folk, including sea elves. She should be able to kill them without feeling remorse.
Daria looked at the Sahuagin king standing near her friends. The beast didn't realize yet that his guards were held firmly in place by her magic and he was more vulnerable than he thought. Rummaging through her memory Daria chose a spell. She didn't have many at her disposal, she gradually stopped preparing new ones since her spirit was taken, relying on others to keep her safe. This particular element summoning she didn't use yet because so far it was beyond her hands' capabilities.
One very complex and detailed move, another and then the chant joined her flawless moves… The Sahuagin squeaked and then added something throaty to his servants in Sahuagin's strange tongue, but it was already too late. A stream of electricity shot from Daria's outstretched fingers forward, crossing the distance between her and the huge sea devil in no time, and then gave it a spicy taste of thunder. Minor bolts shot from the king, killing the paralyzed guards.
Daria looked at her smoking hands again. Casting was easy, so easy. She never felt so focused, like she could think of nothing else but her magic. She needed to prepare more spells, much more. Maybe at night? She couldn't sleep anyway, maybe she simply didn't need to anymore?
A war cry turned her attention back to her friends. They were just finishing off the heavily wounded Sahuagin king using weapons taken from the fallen guards, but were still separated from her by few feet high stone wall. She decided to shorten the distance.
A spell of levitation – that was the last one she had. She jumped into the air and didn't fall. Descending gracefully in the middle of her companions she noticed their fearful eyes turned at her. And then she realized what scared them so, looking at her reflection in the waters of the underground city. A bloody visage she was, heavy drops of red liquid dripping from her robes at the ground as she descended, but what were drawing the most attention were her eyes, glowing a bright gold light, just as Sarevok's used to.
The moment before his death.
"No. I like the smell of blood" she answered Jaheira's careful suggestion to change clothes. Her old robes were just rags now, sprayed with red, but the smell seemed pleasant enough for her. Jaheira looked at her, not even caring to hide the expression of terror.
"S-sis, you can't be serious" Imoen stammered.
"What are we doing here?" Daria ignored her, turning to Jaheira again. It was good to be focused once again. She felt detached for far too long. The druidess looked at her with mix of worry and disgust.
"The Sahuagin brought you here because of the prophecy given to them by their god, Sekolah…" Valygar began. Daria noticed he didn't sheathe his katana, but even such an obvious sign of distrust didn't hurt. And he talked. A lot. Out of fear, to see what happens or was he trying to distract her before striking? No, he already made up his mind about her state. In his eyes she saw disdain, the same he showed each time he witness the use of magic. He wouldn't attack yet, he would wait for a chance.
"Doesn't matter" the sun elf cut the talk. "How do we get out?"
"The King mentioned a hole leading to the Underdark, located somewhere to the south from here, but now that he's dead I suppose we have to look for it ourselves."
"Good, let's get going. The place reeks of Sahuagin, it's not safe to rest here." The elf picked a direction which she hoped was south. Being deprived of her divinations certainly was annoying. Her adventurer's party followed their blood-soaked leader maintaining safe distance. No one dared to stop her.
The Underdark was huge. They had to use all the rope they could find just to climb down to one of its caverns from the above Sahuagin outpost and it was only one of the hundreds of entrances. The cave opening before them was impossible to comprehend in the darkness, only ceiling Daria could see, a bright hole that brought them here. The old parts of her were quite uneasy about the place, but she shred those emotions quite swiftly. Now she could watch the legendary Underdark, the place of many tales and dangers, where evil was said to lurk behind every corner, with honest interest, letting her team set the camp. More than one night she spent in Candlekeep, sneaking through the library, trying to find more and more fascinating descriptions of the mysterious and deadly drow, the abominable mind flayers and powerful beholders. And now she stood here among these monsters, only deadlier, more abominable and much more powerful than any of them.
The air was warm and full of scents. Fluorescent fungi growing on one of the walls gave little light, but quite enough for her to move freely without having to resort to infravision. Valygar was up for a hard time if he wasn't going to accept at least a minor sight-sharpening enchantment.
Her blood-soaked robes were going to attract predators soon if she wasn't going to get rid of them, but she still wanted to train some… changing. Getting battered like against ettin every time she wanted to assume her new form could be a touch too troublesome. At least now there was someone who she suspected would help her.
"Teach me about Shar" Daria turned to Viconia, not caring that all others heard her. Jaheira sprung to her feet, but when she looked at the elf, all covered in blood and with her eyes still glowing dangerously, the look in her eyes, that of question and a threat at the same time, the words she was meant to say just evaporated from her mind. She sat again, trying to stop the trembling of her hands, trying to be strong, trying to think of something fast. And for the first time not knowing what to do while looking at Daria.
"So you finally decided to think for yourself, instead of letting others do it for you, Daria?" Viconia smiled mockingly. "That's admirable, but what makes you think that you're worthy of the Nightsinger's teachings?"
"You're worthy and the Slayer could tear you to pieces in few seconds" Daria gave an answer she considered Viconia would find to her liking. Indeed drow's lips curled in a satisfied smile.
"Come with me" Viconia ordered. Daria looked around the camp, but all others were avoiding eye contact. Valygar was watching Viconia with contempt, Jaheira kept her eyes to the ground, Minsc was whispering something to Boo. Xan sat alone with his spellbook, probably trying to show how much it didn't matter to him, anything relating to this party. His eyes didn't move from the lines of runes when she cast him a last glance, before walking off with Viconia.
"The first step on the path of service is a sacrifice" Viconia began after they reached a place the drow considered appropriate. They were walking for few minutes and Daria hoped that her companion would know how to get back to their camp in this never-ending darkness. The cavern where they stopped had only one tunnel leading to it and was dark even considering the Underdark standards, granting the pair more than enough seclusion. The only source of light was now Daria's brooch holding a minor Light enchantment and a faded gold glow of her eyes.
"Your sacrifice will be your blood. Cut your veins, on forearms, two long cuts" Viconia handed the sun elf a sharp knife, just as she was asking her to peel some potatoes for diner. "Don't mind the wounds, I'll heal you as soon as the offering completes. This is a first ritual every priestess has to perform."
Daria took the knife carefully. It was glinting with magic in vain attempt to disperse some of the darkness since the moment it left the scabbard on Viconia's calf. The hilt was adorned with Shar's holy symbol – a dark disk in a purple ring. It had to be a ceremonial weapon, but Daria never saw the drow use it before.
Her logic was screaming, advising her against trusting Viconia, but the emptiness in her chest didn't stir to spawn any emotions when she pressed the enchanted blade to her skin. Why was she doing this she didn't know, but she knew she had to do something, otherwise she would be swallowed by the void, piece by piece. And if this was the way to stop it…
Blood streamed richly once and twice, falling on the stone ground of the cavern. The ceremonial knife fell from diviner's grasp when both her hands almost immediately became numb. She raised her eyes to look at Viconia.
"This is the first lesson I will give you, a lesson you will do better to remember" the dark elf uttered, picking the bloodied knife from the where it was dropped. "Those weak enough to trust others with their life do not deserve to live. A wretch like you could never stand against me and sheer strength is nothing if you don't know how to use it." The drow turned on her heel and run out of the cave.
Daria looked at her hands, once more covered with fresh blood, but this time belonging to her. She was betrayed… again.
Xan raised his head from over his spellbook. She was gone, went away with Viconia, and he didn't need to watch himself that much now. He wondered… feared… He wondered! He couldn't fear now, her life was none of his business, he could only consider her a companion in travels now and shouldn't worry and fear for her! What was happening to her, the fast descent into her taint, was only a logical outcome of Irenicus' ritual and nothing he could do with his current knowledge could either bring harm or help.
Seldarine, how hard could it get? He wanted all of this to be over, for this cursed pain in his chest to be gone forever, so that it wouldn't hurt so much to watch her dying, changing before his eyes, to hear her saying she doesn't feel nor care, to feel her scent of jasmine becoming stifled by the one of blood. It was obvious that would happen. She was doomed. It wasn't her fault, but she couldn't change who she was, no one could. Getting involved with her was madness in the first place and now all he wanted was for it to be too late, over, impossible to change, so he could just stay with his usual miseries he knew so well and stop trying to find new ones. He wanted this to end.
'It's the right choice.' That was what he kept repeating to himself. It hurt so much, so how possibly couldn't it be the right thing to do?
Viconia came back, alone. He felt worries piling up in his chest.
No.
He would not worry and he would not care. What was gone was gone. Some things were just not meant to be.
The blood was seeking its way out from her body. If only getting rid of her taint was that easy as to let it flow until it all leaves her… She couldn't stop the bleeding with her numb hands, she couldn't cast, should she call for help she wouldn't be heard. It would be just screaming in the darkness… Her strength was waning and waning, making her body feel as cold and hollow as her spirit. She wouldn't make it to the camp and Viconia took all her healing potions…
Maybe they'd come. Maybe Jaheira would be worried that she's not coming back, maybe Xan was still thinking about her a little. Imoen would be too afraid to come alone, but maybe she'd take Minsc with her to check up on her sister? Daria strained her hearing trying to distinguish the sound of footsteps in the darkness, but there were none. No one was coming. She was alone.
It all became black, even as little light as her brooch created died away, when she began to lose consciousness from the blood loss. She felt like falling into darkness, infinite fall denying her death. Something was consuming her in this descend, but she never crushed on the ground.
"Remember what the drow said" the haunted Imoen from her dreams appeared, falling along with her, her tangled pink hair floating like in water. "After all, what means eternity in nothingness, when you can crush everything that stands in your way?"
"Those weak enough to trust others with their life do not deserve to live" Viconia repeated in her head just for her.
"Those weak, which trust…" Daria tried to say, but the drow was no longer there. The ground appeared beneath her out of sudden and now was getting near!
"Save yourself!" the Imoen of dreams screamed.
"Save yourself!" Gorion called her that night, shielding her from Sarevok. Even though it would hurt her more to see him die then to be murdered herself.
"No one can save you, but yourself. Trust yourself, save yourself, be yourself" thousand voices from the darkness called, shouting, screaming, demanding in a deafening cacophony that echoed in the darkness, ending sharply only when she asked.
"But what am I?"
"Child of Bhaal" Irenicus' solitary voice answered.
The flow of blood stopped and the wounds closed, immediately being covered with scales. Her muscles hardened and the Slayer woke, a wild element, swallowing her like a rising tide. This time no blindness covered her eyes and nothing obscured her hearing. She was herself, truly herself. It felt like she finally broke some seal that was so far hindering her every move.
The Slayer stood up from the pool crimson. It opened its huge colorless eyes and took in the scent on the air.
She smelled the scent of Viconia's emotions. The air was wonderful, so much smells contained in it, she could have never imagined half of it. The treacherous drow was already in their camp. The Slayer crossed the distance quickly, fast and unrelenting like murder. She emerged on the borders of light, lurking on the light line of the shadows not yet lit by the fire of burning fungus. Xan was sitting ahead on the edge of the light, with his back turned to her, the spellbook still on his lap. She turned the Slayer's eye at him.
'You want to hate me, don't you? You don't want to feel?' the Slayer would whisper should she be able to talk with her maw full of knife-sharp teeth. Tenderly she approached the oblivious enchanter. 'Then I will help you with all my strength to make you hate me like you never hated before, like you never even dreamed of hating' she hissed. Through her sharp, sharper than elf's, senses she felt his heart starting to beat faster and the cold sweat washing over him. He knew something was behind him, something terrible, but was afraid to look. Only Imoen noticed Slayer's shadow behind the elf. Her eyes began to widen.
Daria walked past Xan, back in her elven form, postponing the fulfillment of her promise. He flinched when she brushed against him, only slightly. She'd show him what real fear meant, but for now she had to deal with one treacherous dark elf.
His heart slowed its maddened thumping only when she walked away.