A Moment

She could only change in the future, what she could imagine and was physically able to change. That meant there could be a perfectly easy way to stop Yaga Shura, but Daria was too used to bloodshed to consider any other option than using force. But there was manipulation and subterfuge, there was lie and deceit. That and more, she learned from her enemies. All she had to do, was think outside the box. Let Imoen die, wipe away the tears and keep going. See who she was dealing with, what they could do and how. Then come back and this time save her little sister properly.

Or do something even more bizarre, harder and longer-lasting, an idea Xan unwittingly gave her. She tried to see what would happen, if she proposed that to her sister.

"Yeah. No, thank you" she'd answer.

"But it's the best solution I could..." Daria'd try to argue.

"Listen here, sis" she'd be interrupted. "We're in this together – that's the first thing. I'd rather not die – that's the second. And the third is that I bathed your rat in glitter and gave him a pretty bow. Here you go. No need to thank me." The pink rogue would then produce a sparkly rat, all dolled up and happy.

"Gooseberry! …you like it?"

'Yes. I am marvelous.' Her familiar would then trot up her sleeve, marking it with tiny glittery paw-prints.

"Yes. Yes you are." Daria really liked this vision. She'd have to remember to make it come true one day. But now she was busy. She kissed her rat's head. "Thank you, Immy."

"Yeah, you're welcome" Daria would hear, if she didn't already move on to the next vision.

She went to see the dragon she would go slay, to avenge her sister's death. Instead a different future opened before her. To her surprise Daria saw herself picking all her things in the middle of the night, after Minsc fell asleep on the watch, don her gear and take off. And then go, barely ever resting, travel north. Where was she going? What was she trying to reach? She watched herself traverse an entire desert before realizing. She wasn't trying to do anything. She was running. Imeon died right before her and she could do nothing. She could do nothing to save anyone, no matter how hard she tried. She would see all her friends die if she stayed and she was done.

Daria withdrew from this future and paused. She thought she was stronger. She saw her friends die many times, just Imoen she saw die so many times already… Thought it was never real. It could be. But wasn't. And she needed to see past it… Her future self walk past it and let her see who led the assassins.

There was a side effect to Irenicus' magic, one she experienced deeply. Being disconnected from all but most basic feelings. She could emulate this at least, with her current knowledge of enchantments, and keep going. She'd do that to herself, if that meant Imoen would survive and Daria wouldn't have to do that to herself… Her life was starting to get truly twisted.

Future became truly random after that, she saw, checking one after another possibility, in quick succession. A dip into a far and a further – another failure, her own death too quick to be useful. Another run into the woods – setting a snare to catch rabbits and building a tent, alone in the deepest forest she could reach. Oh! Something more. A drow city? Yes, that was it. Daria focused seeing a drow warrior stammering out a report about being attacked by Gorion's Ward to a woman on a throne with armrests adorned with sculls. Though Daria had to admit it was way more subtle than what Sarevok would have liked in his throne room. On the drow woman's side was a very peculiar spider. The diviner quickly noted few of it's key characteristics. Jaheira would know what kind of venom this beastie produced.

Having found a reasonably promising future, Daria took a chance and dove further. The risk turned out far greater than she anticipated.

An alien place pulsated with magic in a rhythm that almost crushed her mind the moment she entered. This was it. A place half of her being came from, a place she was fated to return to, by the very nature of her birth, her destiny. She could be completed here. And as long as murder coursed through her veins and filled her bones, she would miss this place. Now it surrounded her future self and half of the party. She felt her mind crumble like an ancient dried brick, as the Weave itself grew, swelled and exhausted mana, raw magic that felt like a thousand tiny needles piercing an astral projection that Daria used as her body during long divinations. Emptied of all thoughts, she watched a pair of angels fly overhead and join Anomen in battling the most disgusting towering being, made of… Daria for once couldn't force herself to look. It was a Bhaal's avatar, another, after Slayer. But this time it wasn't her who took it's form. Her future self was there too, fighting, more than that, winning. And that meant…

Mana pierced her again and this time kept flowing. This was a moment Daria could possibly ascend into godhood, her mind, her consciousness – the future one – easily pouring into the link her past self mindlessly created. This world, this forge of pure energy, began to implode as Bhaal's successor was chosen. Divinity claimed a small sun elf, like a flood claims a rat, making it a tiny part of the cataclysm. All – future, present and past – became one to an immortal mind that could only process it so.

"No…! Don't!" In last ditch effort Daria pulled at the mana and tried to use it to go full reverse, back, as far before this event as she could. She had been, once, shot with a barbed arrow. It hurt when Jaheira pulled it out, it hurt like hell, even if it only hit her calf and was healed before she finished screaming bloody 'yowl!'. Now she felt as if the arrow was being pulled from her brain.

The pain blinded her for a few seconds. She tried to struggle against it, but her body wouldn't move an inch. She tried to scream, but her throat was equally useless. She knew this feeling. Were she able, she'd breathe out a sigh of relief.

She was frozen mid-step on a forest path, morning sun on her face, about to be covered by clouds. She came back to where she started. She was safe. Now as to when and where she was…

Optimally this would be a morning, the first hour of divining. Daria remembered putting her hand on Jaheira's shoulder today, the druidess promised to lead her. But now there was no one before her. Strange… Her body was supposed to only walk when pulled by someone, due to how Xan's enchantment worked. But she felt no ground beneath one of her feet, mid-step. Couldn't look down to be absolutely sure, though… Also there was no one on the road before her. Her party wouldn't let her walk in the front in her trance. Where was everybody?

Maybe the got shifted into another time and still had ways to go? Maybe she needed to go back, or forth, and for now just depleted her magic in a panicked escape? There was no need to worry. Soon she'd be able to move and she'd just check. Just wait – it was all she needed and was able to do.

Days must have passed. She counted leaves on every tree and pebbles on the path. She found a copper piece stuck between two rocks and identified every bird in her field of view. Recited poetry to herself, sang every song she could think of, screamed as loud as possible without a voice.

Not a second passed. Not a blade of grass moved, not a bird chirped, not a friend grasped her hand. Time didn't slow. It stopped completely.

She'd done it, finally. Sharpened her perception to the point that only the perceived moment existed in her eyes. She saw herself becoming a god and in a way became a sole ruler of this still, dead moment. She murdered the world.

'Move' she tried to order it. 'Move. Move, move, move-move-move-move-move!'

It did not obey.

There was a trick for using instant magic. She never bothered to learn, but now had all the time she needed and a batch of spells prepared. First she needed to strip away the verbal component. Than the gestures. Feel the Weave and make the interaction more direct, intimate even. She went through most of her simplest cantrips and lower level spells until finally something sparked… and froze instantly stopped in a dead pulse. Casting spells was as impossible as wailing in despair.

She abandoned her faith months ago, in Athkatlan graveyard. Not a huge loss, given her status as a 'problem beyond gods' help' and her careless attitude towards the doctrine. But if some divine being helped her now, just this once… She'd do her best to put a paladin to shame with her devotion.

'Please...' she prayed to anyone willing to listen. After days trapped like that she'd accept a demon or a devil or Cyric himself.

But no one came.

She tried to listen to Xan's heart, her anchor. Now still, paused between two beats… But maybe if she wished enough, if she could only imagine it's sound, remember…

'Please, help me. Someone, anyone… I don't know what to do...'

Even if she tried she couldn't end this in any way. She wouldn't be able to kill herself, not without moving or casting. She would neither die, nor ascend…

…

She did this on purpose.

...in a way. That was what she wanted. To find a path between the verses of Alaundo's prophecy, that would allow her to avoid the consequences of being born a Bhaalspawn. Like in Suldalessellar, her wishes grew into their own lives and, fueled with her essence, completely screwed her over. Now she could live safely, never fearing any of her siblings. She could even live forever.

Time didn't pass. It lasted. It numbed senses and spirit, exhausted all Daria's ideas for escape and kept lasting. Nothing was changing.

The war was as good as ended. Imoen, Xan, Jaheira… they could be in Daria's reach, maybe all she'd need to do was stretch an arm an inch back to find them… But could as well be dead. Perhaps it happened already. Perhaps she left them and ran away, purposefully missing the moment she could save them, all because she knew she would fail. Like she failed Gorion. Gorion's Ward, named after the man she abandoned to his death.

Perhaps this was a fate for her. A purgatory of sort, yes. Though she wasn't suffering like she deserved, not truly, like in Irenicus' dungeon. She was safe and she was done. There were no more choices to make. This was literally, all she ever wanted.

And she'd sell her spirit to end it.

'Move… move-move-move...' she sang to a chirpy tune. She was lost once already. Someone helped her then. Who? An elf. Not like her, a real elf, from Evereska or Suladenessellar or Evermeet. She moved and sounded different, not like Daria did, with her flat, human common. She was waiting where Daria wandered to accidentally and pointed her into the right direction. It was one of the futures, when they met. Which meant she could even not be born yet, maybe never would be. She couldn't help now. Did she use a spell to find out what to do? Was it an accident? And how did she know where Daria was supposed to go? She didn't remember. She was beyond any help, her spells didn't work, she couldn't see any future, because there wasn't any but this, not for her. Not for a mad little Bhaalspawn, who wanted the world to dance to her whims… to her 'move-move-move-move-please-I-beg-you-move...'

She had Bhaal's blood, the divine essence. Not as much as an entire world, breathing with raw magic… but a healthy, manageable portion. Sarevok tried to show her how to use it… She never bothered to pursue those studies further. Felt insulted by the very idea.

To want something… was not enough. To will it. Ambition, ruthlessness, bloodthirst… Those things worked well with her sire's gifts. Daria learned how to summon the Slayer in no small way thanks to Viconia… She never forgot Shar's priestess' lessons. Those were dark times in the Underdark… But even darker were coming still.

'If I do this, there will be blood. There will be tragedy and some of it I will cause… deliberately or because of my failures. Do I really want this?' Daria asked herself. When she left Candlekeep for the first time in her conscious life… she was jumping out of joy. If she knew that Gorion wouldn't survive the night, that the man who would kill him was her brother, and she'd give up a part of her soul to bring him back to life… If she knew she'd meet Xan, fall in love, and he would break her heart… If she knew Imoen would be tortured and could die, for following her outside the keep…

Would she make that first step on the road? Or would she stay inside to cherish every moment she had left with her foster-father?

'Dad, you taught me and guided me… In many ways you created the woman that I am now, more than Bhaal ever did...' Daria steeled herself, preparing for the havoc summoning the Slayer could bring in this immobile, defenseless world.

'I hope you did a good job.'