„Tears of Bhaal"
The scenery of the fourth realm of her personal hell was at its best just strange compared to the first. Bleak grayish walls with no defined shape gave her no hint as to what she should be expecting. The only feature making it clear it wasn't a cave somewhere dank were eyeballs growing from the floor on twisted stems like some bizarre plants, staring at her with curiosity untainted with any other emotion bare eyeballs could project. All this placed felt like taken from someone else's mind.
Something she recognized finally emerged from the shadows, a familiar shape in an unfamiliar place. Clad in a spiked armor that remedied her so much of the Slayer, a man stepped before her, a soul hidden in the shape of taint. A man who for the most of this life strived to hear the voice of his father, to become him, an failed. A man she killed.
"Sarevok."
Daria remembered that moment they clashed for what seemed the last time - two seconds of clarity, the purest clairvoyance she has ever achieved. One thought – he was standing before her, battle still raging, his breath heavy. He was wounded, but so was she. This was the moment that she would have to stand against him – there was no more hiding, no more plots, no more gathering courage or chases. They were going to fight now and there would be death.
One thought propelled her forward. She opened her eyes like she never opened them before or since. She saw time flowing around them.
She knew when Sarevok would lift his great sword, where he would place his foot for balance, she knew how to dodge. She knew where his armor was shattered and its enchantment weakened, she knew the exact type of spell that would break through. She knew how much of her magic would take to stop his heart.
Bending under a horizontal slash of the Sword of Chaos like if it was the single movement she was training for years she made a step forward and lightly pressed her palms to his wounded side, softly chanting one verse needed to activate the spell. As if it was so obviously simple it had to be done she released the spell straight into his body.
His blood poured from the reopened wounds on her robes and skin as his muscles danced to the last rhythm of the electricity she released. Her half-brother died with sword in his hands.
And now he stood before her. And she did not remember what that thought was.
"Here you are at last. I was waiting" Sarevok greeted her with the same voice that gave her the first real nightmares in her life. He was no helpless illusion.
She wasn't helpless either. Not anymore.
"What are you doing here?" Daria asked, not bothering to hide hostility. He invaded her hell, it was unlikely that he did it to help. And considering it further – shouldn't he already become the taint, a part of their father?
"What am I doing here? Sister, you devoured me, I thought it was obvious?" The spiky figure laughed. "The strong devour the weak and thrive upon their death and so the powerful of the Children devour those weaker than them to gain their essence. Just as I tried to devour you. As you devoured me."
"Lies!" Obviously he was spouting nonsense. He was the one who said that the taint of the Children returns to the source after their death! "I wanted nothing to do with you! I did nothing!"
"If it wasn't true, I wouldn't be here, fool. Every time you kill another Bhaalspawn your taint becomes stronger, that much you must know" Sarevok sounded impatient because her ignorance. "It always was. No one cares if you're the attacker, or just defending yourself. This is the way Our father chose to find his successor, the new God of Murder. In the end you can either ascend or die. 'One will raise above others', remember, sister?"
"Shut up." Alaundo. Sarevok's words were making her angry because she knew them so well. Gorion taught her the prophecies and they left her little hope. She knew there had to be some way out, a loophole, something she forgot. Feeling all this powerless rage she began to realize which part if her mind Sarevok represented.
"It must be truly humiliating for you to be 'labeled' as my anger" Daria turned her rage at her half-brother. She could do something about him. "Does that offend you? A warrior like you representing the feeling of helplessness towards the great powers of this world… Are you going to throw curses at me or do I have to crush you? I did it already so it should be easy."
"I can swallow my bitter defeat, sister, and all that comes with it." Daria could swear that bastard was smiling. "I have sweet memories to keep me company in this bleak realm of yours. My sword plunging into this fool's, Gorion's chest…"
"How dare you say Gorion's name!" her voice balance on the verge of Slayer's roar, almost becoming incoherent. Sarevok's face was unreadable under the helmet.
"So you became the Slayer. Ironic. A whelp like you becoming an avatar by accident, whereas I could not." The dark humor in Sarevok's voice was unmistakable. He was laughing at her, even from behind his grave.
Daria was sick of his ramblings. He and Irenicus – they were the same. Messing with powers they didn't comprehend, playing with darkness deeper and older than anything they knew. She wanted none of it, from the beginning all she wanted was to be left in peace. She could have lived in Candlekeep her entire live and be happy. And now he had the nerve to humiliate her, to laugh at Gorion! She wanted to show him how much of a whelp she was. What he was trying to attain. Bloody paint began to spread masterpieces before her eyes as the Slayer stirred in the depths of her heart.
"I see you did learn something about anger, since the day you died." Sarevok had no intention to stop.
"You have no idea…" she replied in hoarse voice.
"Then show me, sister. Free your anger, become more powerful than you ever was. I can teach you how." The hardening skin on her forearms didn't even make the ghostly warrior pause. The gold hue in her eyes was only making him seem more alive.
"You? Teach… me?" Words were barely coming together in her mind. "What could you possibly… teach me? How to be defeated… by a sheltered… orphan? I don't want your help!" Voice was coming out all wrong. And the longer she spoke the more she realized that speaking isn't what she wanted to do. She wanted to kill him.
"But your already accepting it. The dark secrets I whisper into your ear…"
"NO!" Her shape began to change as the Slayer was taking over. No protests or attempts of calming down could force the anger back into her control. She wanted Sarevok dead, torn to pieces and part of her didn't care of the consequences. It wouldn't matter. The Sun would rise on the east horizon, the rain would continue to fall and there would be one murderer less. And one more. The world would carry on. That's why she had every right to tear his bloody heart from Sarevok's chest.
She was losing this fight.
"Come, thing of how I slaughtered your precious Gorion, how I bathed Candlekeep in blood!"
Daria bit her lip, but pain couldn't stop memories appearing in her head. How bad would it be to kill this monster? How many monsters had she killed already? Why would this one make a difference? Because she would change? Because she was already changing?
Her fingers were talons, her skin became scales and her mind fell into the sea of chaos. There was no more control. 'Whatever happens…'
'Whatever happens I have no regrets.'
That was the thought. Later, when the adrenaline wore off and Sarevok became nothing but dust and bad memories, she couldn't remember what she thought facing him in the forgotten temple. She remembered it was something simple and that she never saw so clearly, but that was it. Imoen told her that she was amazing, she moved as if she knew everything Sarevok could do. But how she did it? It felt like a ray of light seen by someone that was born blind. And now that she saw him again, and once again they fought, she recalled it.
Xan was going back to Evereska and she couldn't follow. Most likely they would never meet again. This was the last thing Kivan decided to do in this world. Her past was no longer a mystery – her parents weren't royalty or peasants, and they would never return to tell her they loved her. Gorion was dead.
All those things happened or would happen and yet somehow then, for a moment she felt no regrets. As it the world was flowing and she found her place in it. This was what she should have remembered , instead of months of tortures and ancient drow spells.
The anger left her. She looked at Sarevok and saw only a shadow of her once terrible half-brother. This ghost could do nothing but try to provoke her. He wasn't a monster anymore, not a murdered, not a danger. He was nothing. As her form began to return to normal she saw a familiar golden light appearing in his eyes – the only part of his face she could see the first time they met in the woods near Candlekeep. Daria took a step forward and Sarevok unsheathed the Sword of Chaos. With her second step he lifted the heavy weapon for the strongest slash he could manage. With the third and last step he brought the blade down on her head. It came straight through her without doing any damage, as if he was but a mirror image. Daria didn't even flinch looking at her brother with calm silver eyes.
"Curse you!" he managed to spat out before turning into mist.
"Farewell, Sarevok." The fourth Tear formed on Daria's palm.
She considered long before crossing the fifth gate. Taming her rage exhausted her both mentally and physically, and the hells weren't getting any easier to bear. Because of the heat her body was sticky with sweat and her head felt as if it was full of whirling white lights. She needed rest and badly.
But behind this doors could be her path to freedom, a way to escape this place. There could be a place where she could ease her tiredness and find respite from the heat without watching for danger. Be it Heaven or Oblivion it certainly couldn't be worse. At this point anything would be a step towards better. Even if it would be the last step she would ever make.
The stone stairs lead her much lower this time, but on the good side, the air became slightly cooler. Walking deeper underground Daria considered if this had any metaphorical meaning. So far this place was mirroring her mind and what haunted it, were certainly her demons. The stones she gathered, the Tears as Pride called them were supposed to be her way out, but were they exactly? What was behind the giant gate guarded by eyes? It would be far too easy if it were but a portal leading her out.
So many questions and no one to ask. She was too tired and overheated right now to think it through properly. Daria stepped inside the fifth chamber.
For a moment she didn't believe he was there.
"Xan!" He was there, just standing, could it be? Was it an illusion or some fiend in disguise? No, it had to be him. Daria half-stepped half-run into his embrace. It wasn't exactly what she should do, in any other place it would be far more awkward, but it was Hell and he was the first friendly face she saw here.
The one she was so relieved to see didn't look as happy. The moment she touched his shoulder Xan stepped back rapidly, looking around. Daria almost fell losing her balance and couldn't help the look of hurt she sent the elven mage. He did not meet her eyes. He didn't seem to be aware that she was there at all, even as she stood up just few steps from him.
"Xan?" No recognition, not even a sign of reaction on his face.
"Hehehe" a ghastly giggle echoed in the grey chamber signaling the appearance of yet another fiend. Looking above Daria saw it soaring down from the ceiling made of dark thunderclouds. She could swearfor a second she saw yet another face higher up, but that could have just as well been her imagination.
"No, no, no" the fiend chided her as if she'd been a stubborn youth insisting to buy another dress. Daria couldn't decide whether this one was male or female. "Just like that? You can't do it! So simple…" It grabbed the enchanter's arm and pulled him closer to Daria. For once there was some reaction. First confusion, but as his eyes centered at the demon Xan let out a sigh, his expression changing to that of disappointment. Daria could almost feel his thoughts – that was the company he expected her to drag him into.
"Xan, I'm here, can you hear me?" she tried again, ignoring the melting feeling of being a letdown.
"I tell you, it doesn't work this way. It's Hell!" the fiend giggled again, grabbing Daria's arm this time. Only then she actually looked at it. It was the closest she ever saw an infernal – not even a sword's length and that meant much too close for comfort. This one had two horns on its head and a third one growing from its chin. Its maw was sharp edged, rectangular, and its teeth were too big to be hidden under a lip. Its skin was covered by what could be tiny scales as well as very rough red skin. Glowing yellow eyes were hidden in shadows of bushy eyebrows. For some mysterious reason the fiend smelled with moss.
"It's Hell, mistress" it clapped its maw, too close for Daria's liking. "You two cannot communicate that simply."
"Why would it matter? I just talked with Sarevok, and earlier with Jeb!"
"Mistress, calm down" the monster's face did nothing to help his cause. In the corner of her eye Daria saw Xan's silhouette turning paler. Instantly she turned to him, but he looked normal. The demon put both its paws on her shoulders. She glared at him and to her surprise it let go instantly and backed away from her.
"Mistress, those were not living creatures, but part of your own soul" it began to explain, somewhat more humble. "Of course you had no trouble communicating with them."
"Sarevok is not part of my soul!" Daria snapped. "And neither is Jeb."
"They are… let's say they are your memories?" it added quickly as her glare sharpened. It offered a servile smile using two rows of sharp teeth. "This one… it's a living soul and one not at all in tune with this place. He probably can't see much more than fog, hear more than noise."
"What do I do then? How can I make him see me?" This couldn't be. Her friend was standing at an arm's length and yet there was nothing she could do to make him hear her. Just her luck.
"Hmmm…" the beast stroked the horn on its chin. "Souls communicate by building an understanding, getting to know each other. In here it would be like learning another language, more, to see the world as the other person sees it, with all his experience. Even though you two were comrades in arms it wouldn't work that fast. We don't have that much time."
"What's the hurry?" She wanted to get out as fast as possible because of the heat and the evil feel of the air, but that couldn't be what that demon meant.
"Don't you feel it, mistress? The other one is coming" the demon whispered as if it was afraid the very walls would hear him and carry on his voice.
"The other one?" A chill traveled a familiar path down Daria's spine.
"He, who has a part of your soul and a part of your power. He travels within himself and soon he will come to challenge you. We must hurry if we are to gather your allies. There is only one way. The stone tears hidden in this realm. You must find them. That's your only chance."
"I have these…" she took out one of the tears she earned on her trials.
"Yes! Perfect!" the fiend squealed, pulling the elf closer to her. Xan only seemed more confused. He summoned a stone skin to cover himself.
"What do I do now?" Daria felt Xan's breath, so close he stood. She could feel the familiar smell, the one that used to rob her of all her will to resist. And yet he seemed to not hear even a world of the conversation.
"Press the stone to his skin and call him. Follow your instincts,"
A vague instruction at best. And she made a habit of not listening to what her instincts told her.
"What will happen?" Daria asked, already suspecting that she wouldn't like the answer.
"We don't have the time for details" came the evasive answer.
"What will happen?" she put some pressure to the question. So far the demon seemed to fear her.
"Eh…" the demon sighed avoiding her eyes. "You will absorb… part of him. This will create a link between you two and allow you to communicate. It will… bind him to you." A pause – a lie.
"So you're telling me I will bind his spirit to me? I will make him a slave?"
"No! Well… In a way, yes. That's one way of putting this. But it will not harm him in any way" the demon explained as if it made everything better. "Think of it as falling in love – you will be bound together and he won't want to leave you."
"Forget it" Daria had no idea which one of her flaws was this demon supposed to represent, but it was very likely it was stupidity. There was no way she would agree to enslave any being, not to mention one of her closest friends. She had to get out of here and somehow take Xan with her. He wouldn't move when she tried to pull him.
"Don't be ridiculous, mistress. You have no choice. If you leave him here he'll die. If you stay here together the other one will come to get you." The demon tried the same trick that always annoyed her – obvious logic. "I'm sorry, but my greatest concern is your safety. He doesn't have Bhaal's blood in his veins! Unless you bind him to your soul he cannot talk, or see, or hear!"
"I can see him" she cut it off.
"Only because… you watched him for so long, mistress." The demon tried to shrink under her angry stare. "This is your connection – you watch him. No words, no understanding. But you remember his every expression, every gesture. It's… not enough. You need allies if you are to face the other one."
"No, there has to be another way. I will not tolerate this."
"Mistress, why are you really objecting?"
"Because it's wrong!" The demon was asking stupid questions. But it was a demon it was supposed to lead people to evil, to twist words and cloud the truth.
"Is it wrong to save his life and soul?" And again, facts. Truths that didn't make anything right. The demon was clearly afraid of her anger, but not enough to just leave her alone to figure something out. "You were taught to scorn slavery, my mistress, but this is just a cold law that may have so many aspects in the living world. It always should change, mistress. Think about it – is your friend happy?"
"More than he would be as a slave!" This whole argument was ridiculous. She needed to find some real way to get Xan out of here.
"Stop with the sarcasm, mistress. I'm trying to help in the boundaries of what's possible. He-" the demon put its paw on enchanters shoulder. "-cares for you more than a friend would. And yet he will abandon you, leave you to your fate and come back to his homeland. This way he will hurt both of you. He won't be happy and yet what he considers duty will stop him from following his heart. He will die, my mistress, alone, somewhere far way. Is this truly a better way?"
"No, but…" this was what would happen, her heart told her so. Xan was powerful, and yet ever time he turned down an offer of help he risked his own life. Without them, without her… She feared for his safety. "…his spirit…" she couldn't leave him here either. This was not a place for either of them.
"Do not listen to old wives tales, it's nothing remotely as terrible as they say. Your spirit was torn to be of use to another, nothing of a sorts will happen to him. The effect won't be stronger than a love-sickness."
"And if I die?" Daria hated herself for asking this question. It made her sound as if she agreed for the demon's plan.
"I'm sorry, mistress, but our soul shall not prevail after your death, because of your heritage. All that's tied to it shall be freed." The answer she would want to hear. And yet there was one thing she saw that wouldn't let her do it. She felt tears gathering in her eyes. She didn't like remembering it.
"You will make him happier this way, mistress" the demon continued its useless debate. But it was decided already. He wasn't hers.
"I won't…" her lip began to quiver. She hated feeling weak.
"But mistress!" the demon didn't give up. Another logical argument was cominu.
"I said no!" Just an hour ago she was learning to control her anger and now she was losing it again. One step forward and two backward. "There is someone else for him!" A vision she saw at the druid's grove near Trademeet was what should happen, what she wanted to happen. She wanted for Xan to be as happy as she saw him and if she couldn't make it happen, even if it was all of her father's fault, there was nothing she could do about it. She wanted his happiness even though it broke her heart to just think about it. "This is my decision! I will protect him and lead him out, and not even Bhaal can stop me from doing it!" She caught Xan's hand turning to leave, but it felt strange – cold and hard in touch. Daria turned to look at him and saw a fifth tear materializing in her hand.
"To overcome the desire for one thing you want the most…" the demon was smiling. And then she understood. It all was another lie, another test of this realm, not a way out. "You truly are the mistress to command Greed."
The five eyes surrounding the last portal in this realm centered their glares on her as if suspecting that now she possessed the means to close them. On the other side Daria sensed the other half of her spirit waiting. The battle was inevitable.
With almost unnoticeable shift of the atmosphere five demons she tamed appeared around her. The mad Fear, elegant pride, beautiful Selfishness, suppressed Anger and childish Greed were to fight on her side, for their mistress, but they weren't who she wanted by her side.
By her side she wanted… stern and reliable Jaheira, her true healer. Minsc, a steady rock she could always lean on for support. A piece of her mind in Gooseberry, her familiar, making her proud of being bound to a sewer rat. To hear Xan sigh once more, to make him smile. One last prank with Imoen before Valygar completely occupies her mind.
She wanted to fee the small weight of a necklace with a single black pearl around her neck, the only memento of a man who led her from a very dark place, but even that was gone. The fiends were the only ones here, chained to this place as much as she was.
The first tear she wanted to open the door with waited calmly on her palm. None of the demons told her what they were exactly and this might be the last chance to find out. Knowing little what to expect she closed her hand around it and focused. A memory of the first time she tried to divine the object's past under Xan's watchful gaze came to her mind.
It was the same place, only it seemed smaller, mainly because of a man that had to be at least five times her size sitting on an equally impressive throne made of bones, placed in the middle of the sphere. The realm she remembered was grey and bleak – this was glowing with green light, coursing like blood in veins along the walls and the white throne. The giant was resting his forehead on his bloodied hands, as if deep in thought, and she couldn't see his face. By his feet a tiny in comparison imp was busying around, oblivious to his master's mood. Every now and then fat drops of blood were falling around the imp from the giants hands.
That was as much as Daria could see, but she was certain she was watching Bhaal, God of Murder, her father. He was not a mortal oblivious to her scrutiny however and the moment she tried to focus to distinguish his features he raised his head sharply, angry being caught in a moment of weakness.
His eyes were… familiar. Not the color, but shape, the shade of skin, more human oval of his face. While his every feature was emanating something unearthly there was something undoubtedly human about him. It was a mortal that became a god and thus remembered his time as a human.
A tear drew a single line on otherwise perfect face of a god, a tear very familiar to the stone she held in her hand, the same grey color, yet it looked like it was nothing but a simple drop of water on his cheek.
Many tears fell because of God of Murder, but what she held was not one of them.
It was a Tear of Bhaal.
Hells returned to her in their current grey form, dead and abandoned. This was the place she inherited.
A.N. Two more chapters to go. Please Review.