The Last Symphony of Saradush
In the following three days she carefully sculpted and chiseled into her memory every detail of the battle about to take place. She remembered the position of every tent and nook in the walls, every prominent mage and giant, including Yaga Shura himself, their strategies and quirks as the siege progressed. She chose the perfect moment to strike, when the gate broke down and the invading army poured into Saradush, spreading, her giant half-brother not on the front lines, but waiting for his soldiers to thin out the last defenders. Her party was too small to stand against an entire army, but powerful enough to strike quickly into it's heart, crush it and retreat. This way the possibly most citizens had the chance to escape in the ensuing chaos.
She wouldn't stand to lose any from her group. Well, she'd stand losing Sarevok, but he was a useful cannon fo… front line fighter to help Minsc, and could mean life or death for someone else at a later date. It took a lot of planning to have him survive his own tactic of throwing himself into the fray and forgetting anything but battle existed. He was however truly an awesome sight to behold, a madman charging fearlessly at giants thrice his size and cutting them down. It reminded her it wasn't the armor or even Bhaal's essence that once made Sarevok find a place her nightmares. If only he stuck to the landing...
He wasn't the most problematic of her siblings right now though. And no, it wasn't Yaga Shura either. Killing him was the simplest of what she had to do that day. The one that made her see the battle over two dozen times now, each ending badly, was no other but her old pal, Imoen. Consistently getting killed. Every. Single. Time.
It took Daria five battles, where she warded and shielded her sister more and more, to consider that it may not be an accident. On the sixth try she straight out ordered her sister to stay behind and guard the camp. On the seventh she managed to convince her to stay successfully. Again, all she accomplished, was that now she cried her eyes out finding her sister dead in the camp, rather than on the battlefield.
Imoen was being targeted.
Daria should have thought about it sooner. She wasn't the only one who got the idea of spying her opponents. Her siblings clearly were researching the extent of Daria's abilities as a diviner by attacking Imoen – a soft target, a test to see how much the Gorion's Ward from the prophecy could actually see, before launching into a full-scale war against her. It could be that Illasera wasn't truly working alone and her siblings joined forces, at least for a while. Or it was an unfortunate accident that they chose the same moment to attack, a decision that was clearly causing Daria gray hairs.
The problem was, that they were way better as assassins than Daria was a protector. The blue dragon was the first problem – a cunning careful beast, with excellent eyes, able to spot her sister the moment she even slightly showed off. A whiff of pink hair, a spark form her electric bow – and the dragon was taking off from it's perch in the distance with a single goal in mind. To fry Imoen and anything else in it's way.
One simple attack needed one simple solution – to increase Immy's resistances to a full immunity against thunder and electricity. The dragon didn't risk a second approach, Yaga Shura's archers were sparing him no arrows and the dragon Bhaalspawn wouldn't risk his health for a recon mission. That only played to Daria's hypothesis that it was a test and by protecting Imoen, she was showing her cards – she could see and stop the coming dragon. That in turn meant, the next time they meet, her brother would be armed in solid enchantments against divination, not just his racial magical resistance. And created one more problem. After his unsuccessful attack, Imoen, a thief, was in the open, the only survivor on the scorched ground, a line surrounded by Yaga Shura's men. On one hand Daria couldn't position more of her party too close, they'd get caught in the blast. She couldn't spare too much magic on their wards, area effect and ice spells were a priority that'd let them survive against an army of giants and then cover their escape. But Immy would be torn to shreds if left alone, again, no contingencies, she never bothered to learn, no extra stone skins, because she'd be fine, 'you're such a worrywart Daria'… And one more time, she'd have to hold her sister in arms as she bed to death, calling for a healer, screaming, watching all color fade from her face, her eyes blank, dead, dead, dead…
And Yaga Shura wasn't the last to make an attempt on Immy's life that day. The third was the worst. Because when after countless tries and retries, Daria managed to find a perfect balance on the battlefield, set the dragon's line of storm to strike precisely where it was needed to kill most enemy mages to free up Jaheira, who in turn would heal and protect Imoen, that was when the truly masterful assassins struck.
It was, after all, a drow specialty.
Among Yaga Shura's army a spy hid. A half-drow with a good make-up or naturally lighter skin, Daria barely found her, even looking close. There was probably more people than just her spying, but she alone did more than just gather information. The first time she attacked…
Yaga Shura fell, disbelieving to the very end, that Daria could find a way to undo the ritual that made him immortal. Imoen was right beside her, just a few measly spells left on her after a battle, banged up, yes, but healed and very much alive. Daria saw herself smile – and smiled in that day's past too. She did it. She finally did it.
The first bolt took Immy's last shimmering shield. The second got her in the eye. Daria caught her before she fell. It couldn't be happening. Again. Immy spasmed, coughed and stilled. It happened again. The future Daria wailed in disbelief. The past just stared in shock. Why was this happening? How much more it would take? This just wasn't fair anymore…
She had four hours to look into the future, before she had to come back, check her own contingency spells, which were meant to set off if she was attacked suddenly, recast a spell that kept her walking, place a hand on one of her friend's arm for guidance and dive again. Five minutes at most. After first day she stopped trying to keep up with what her party was doing. Jaheira was handling the details. There were no futures where they wouldn't arrive to battle in full squad, so Daria wasn't worried. Xan's overall health slightly improved, though not by much and Sarevok's suicidal tendencies had been curbed… or rather Daria adapted to them, using the moron as a bettering ram or distraction in her strategies.
But between those four hours and the five minutes there was an immeasurable amount of tiresome immobility, when the world crawled in a snail's pace. This time Daria was just tired. She wanted to close her eyes and sleep, but sleep never came in this slow world. She thought that maybe if she used up all her magic, the aftereffect wouldn't trigger, or last as long. That didn't work. And there was no way she could measure how much it lasted each time she was stuck and measure what if anything affected it. All she was able to do was to wait it out. Go through all the details once more in her head, after all, each could be crucial. The way a bolt struck Imoen's green iris, the eye pouring out as the missile went though…
She couldn't vomit here either. It would all pass long before the time sped up. All Daria needed was a distraction. And then she'd rest a minute. Recast a spell, fix up her defenses. And go to Saradush again. Schedule was tight – the walls wouldn't hold forever. If she wanted the best possible result, she needed to find a way to protect Imoen before they come back.
She needed a skip-spell for all this waiting. She needed an impenetrable defense for Imoen. She needed a way to exclude her from this deadly rat-race for Bhaal's Thone. She wanted to fall asleep and never wake up…
No. She tried that once and that was enough. She knew what would happened to Imoen, if she just left. But it was the eighth hour of the day, they started to walk around an hour after dawn, so it meant Daria could squeeze in another session in before the dusk. But she was sick at the very thought.
She had to do this. But it was just one battle, so terrifyingly short-term victory. The main problem she was struggling with was… who would succeed the dear dead Bhaal. Daria had a backdoor to his Throne… But no ambition whatsoever to use it. Bhaal clearly intended to be reborn when siring his children, which in turn meant that winning the war with her siblings could have a very different prize in the end. The winner could simply serve as a vessel to be possessed by an old god. Sarevok didn't seem to think that would be the case, but he was wrong about his chances of success before. To die by a sibling's hand or to become a hollow shell for a murderous deity… not the most promising of choices. And should the worse come to be and she'd have to give up her life for Imoen… she'd only be forcing this horrible fate on her.
'A Child do stand above the rest' that was what Alaundo said would end the war. What a sucky, imprecise prophecy. What did it mean to 'stand above'? Because she had little chance of standing above a dragon. And was ways above killing Imoen. Thought very unsuccessful in stopping her murder. Again the bloody image return, Immy dying at a hand's reach… Her essence, dust on the wind. Daria tried to shake her head, and of course, couldn't.
Solaufein was leading her. She shifted her focus on the surrounding landscape for a distraction, but there wasn't much of it. She could barely see the white haired man before her, all was covered in thick mist. A strange phenomenon this time of the day. Daria couldn't remember what they were supposed to go today, she focused solely on Saradush, naively thinking the victory was close. Perhaps her friends needed help navigating in this place. She'd do well to ask. 'Just don't forget' she made a mental note.
But when the time rushed back, after what felt like hours of fruitless thoughts, she didn't remember.
"What are you researching?" Xan asked as Daria saw him approach the dark corner of the camp she choose to toss her papers around, messily scripted in arcane symbols, all variants of the same ritual. She sighed, rubbing her temples. She wasn't getting far.
"Irenicus' magic" she admitted with a sigh. "Mainly the ritual he used to steal mine and Immy's soul."
Xan straightened alerted at the very first word.
"You…? Why…?" he traced off. "A way to separate Bhaal's taint from your spirit… But this time keep the spirit and get rid of taint. You're trying to find out if it's possible." He figured her out, his voice falling back into the tone of resignation.
"It would save us a lot of trouble. Possibly sparing death devoid of any afterlife, not only for me and Immy, but also all those hiding in Saradush."
"Mellonamin… That's unrealistic, a doomed effort only occupying your mind when you should be alert. A spirit isn't a piece of cloth you can cut parts of at your leisure." He sighed, but poured over the texts she produced, rearranging them into neat lines and picking out the ones with obvious flaws. "Besides, even that monster couldn't separate the divine essence of your sire from your spirit."
"But he wasn't trying to do that, was he? Lacking his own spirit, taken by the Seldarine, he needed both power of Bhaal and a connection to the People. He didn't care how crippled it would leave me, so he tore as mach as the spell allowed."
"True." Xan clenched his fists. He loosened them with another sigh. "Even at that he failed though. Neither time nor distance could truly separate you from your spirit. Though broken, those were still parts of a whole. Those are vile, nasty spells, Daria. No good will come of them."
"Yes… I think you're right. Years of research and experiments went into this ritual and all he managed to achieve was to violently sew a part of other being to him and Bodhi. It gave him power, but was in no way a permanent solution to Exiles' curse. The Tree of Live was his end goal, because those experiments remained a failure." That meant for a Bhaalspawn, including her and Imoen, the only final choices were death or ascension. And that gave her a very bad idea. But she promised herself she'd do anything to save Imoen, didn't she?
"I can see it in your face, Daria. Your thoughts wander into dark territories again…" Xan didn't move any closer. The distance between them sometimes felt more solid than a brick wall, a line he wouldn't cross no matter what. He spoke to her openly, she couldn't find a trace of fear or held grudge in his words, but this distance, always there… The same she felt in the times she wore scales as often as skin. She was beginning to dread it. As if she got too close by accident, she would make him snap.
"I made a priority to my divination – not to let any of my friends get hurt in this war. The easiest way would be to send you all as far as I possibly can..."
"But none of us would abandon you" Xan interrupted matter-of-factually.
"Yes. And according to the prophecy the world – as in entire – will become 'an inferno of boiling hate', very poetic, not very pleasant. So I'd rather keep you in my line of sight. There is one problem though… Imoen and her part of the essence." Daria crammed the now tidy line of papers between the pages of her spellbook.
"It makes her a target to all your siblings. But not much more than you. Daria… why would Imoen's taint matter more? What are you..."
"I'm not planing anything beyond keeping her alive."
"Even if it means killing all other Bhaalspawn?"
"Only the ones actively hunting the others are a problem. Five of them, if my vision meant, what I think it meant. I don't think gods will actually pit the non-violent against each other, if we decide not to fight."
"I wouldn't put it past most of them. But it may not come to this. 'One will stand above the others'." Xan cited the part of Alaundo's texts that irked her to no end with it's lack of detail. "If you kill those Five and take their essence… Daria, do you think about becoming a god?"
Cold shiver ran on her spine, someone walked on her would-be grave. She hugged herself, trying to withstand this sudden cold. Xan's hand twitched but he held it to his side. Silence lingered.
"I… The best possible future I can imagine is… if I could find someone decent, willing to become at least semi-benevolent God of Murder..."
"…not very likely."
"I know. But if I could pawn off my portion of the essence to that person..."
"With Irenicus' magic. But it won't work. Not in the long run and not without seriously damaging you" he understood.
"Other than that I could let them kill me."
"This, I hope, you are not seriously considering" he sighed. "But of course you are. Daria..."
"It's either that or take it all. Immy doesn't want it and I will never force something like that on her. I don't want to be a god of murder. I don't want to be a god of anything! Just thinking about deciding other's fates each day, for the rest of eternity..." She took a big gulp of air, it felt stifling, useless in her lungs. "It makes me sick. I don't want to choose who lives and who dies. I just want to save you all and even that means I have to..." Tears poured from her eyes like long held back river. She was just so tired and drained of hope after today… She needed a good cry on Imoen's shoulder. Soon, if possible.
But not now. Not with Xan frozen like an iceberg before her.
"Daria, please let me… I mean, if you'd allow me to..." he stammered, his palms moving as if he was trying to cast a barely remembered spell, reaching out, clenching and pulling back. The last part of his sentence was barely intelligible.
"Shoo! Shoo! I say shoo to you, butt!" Imoen descended on him like an angry pigeon. "What did I tell you!?"
"It's fine, Immy, I'm fine..." Daria wiped her tears, pulling her sister into a hug. "I'm just frustrated with future. But I'll figure something out" she managed to get a hold of her voice.
Imoen couldn't see it, hugging her sister back, but tears were still flowing from her eyes, no matter how fiercely Daria tried to stop them.