It was far too early to be awake, especially after so much dancing the night before. Silandra had never been particularly strong, but this morning she found she was struggling even more than usual with the stack of books she was trying to bring to her desk. She let out a cry of dismay as her grip slipped and the book tower began to fall, but a stronger pair of hands reached out and steadied it. She soon found herself relieved of most of the books, and the face of her savior came into view.
"Thank you Shistal," she said, smiling. "I'm a little tired this morning."
"I thought you were a morning person," Shistal replied, setting the books down on the nearby desk. He was one of the few residents of Candlekeep who was similar in age to Silandra, and although he was a monk he was nothing like most of the others, who were old, boring and overly strict.
"Sometimes. Imoen had me dancing most of the night. You know what she's like."
"At least you're unlikely to get into trouble for dancing. Drinking, however…"
Silandra laughed. "Don't worry. Hull and Fuller have clearly shown us the dangers of that."
Shistal laughed too, but stopped abruptly, a serious look overcoming his face so quickly it was almost comical. Silandra calmed herself too, able to guess the reason. She turned around and saw Karan, her tutor for the morning. Although he was not quite as crotchety as some of the old monks, he firmly believed Candlekeep library was a place for study and quiet contemplation.
"I'll leave you to your studies, Silandra," Shistal said, nodding a greeting to Karan before scurrying away.
"Good morning Karan," Silandra said, arranging her books on the desk. "I hope you are well."
Karan had looked like he might be about to admonish her for 'disrespecting the sanctity of the Great Library', but he evidently decided against it. "I am well enough. I hope you are prepared for today's lessons."
"Of course," Silandra said, sounding more certain than she felt. It was a struggle just to keep her eyelids from drooping. "I found all the books you asked for."
"Then we will begin," Karan said, and they both sat down. "We'll start with The Intricacies of Arcane Forms, then perhaps revise your history. If there is time before the midday meal, then we can go over a few enchantments. How does that sound?"
Silandra did not dare voice what she really thought. "It sounds great."
Karan raised an eyebrow. "I know it may seem like it's taking a while to get to what you're really interested in, but you chose this, Silandra."
That was technically true, though Silandra resented the way she had come to make that choice. When her magic first emerged a few years ago, she had been content with ignoring traditional spells and forming her energy to her liking. She grew more powerful, however, and finally her foster father told her that she must make a choice—undertake formal arcane studies or have her magic bound so she could not hurt anyone. She still thought it was unfair—like she would hurt anyone here at Candlekeep!—but she did have to admit that her studies had been helping with control, something she had sometimes struggled with before.
"I'm sorry Karan," she said. "I do appreciate all you've been doing for me. And I did all the reading you assigned."
"I'm pleased to hear it," Karan said, smiling. "Let us begin, shall we?"
When her morning classes were over, Silandra debated poring over the enchantment book she had spent the last hour examining. It was the school that interested her the most, probably because she had a natural affinity for it. But after a yawn—one of many that morning—she decided she should just eat and do her chores. Maybe she would get in a nap before evening.
She was surprised to see Gorion on her way out of the library. As her foster father, he was the only family she knew, but lately it was rare to see him during the day. Something was on his mind and he spent most of his time studying in his room on the upper levels of the library, seldom even sharing the evening meal with her.
"Silandra, I'm glad I have found you," he said. "You must pack your possessions so that we may leave Candlekeep as soon as possible."
"What's wrong?" she asked, stunned. She had never been allowed to leave the keep before, despite asking countless times. Gorion always said it wasn't safe, but at eighteen she was beginning to itch for the outside world and had been wondering if she would have to devise some way to sneak out.
"I can't explain now," said Gorion, and he thrust a coin purse into her hands. "Go see Winthrop and prepare yourself for a journey. I will meet you on the library steps within the hour."
With that he was gone, likely off to make his own preparations. He had sounded anxious—maybe even afraid. Gorion was a powerful wizard and had been an adventurer when he was younger, though he rarely spoke of those days. What could possibly worry him so much? Despite this, she felt a thrill of excitement. Finally, she was leaving. Perhaps they would even have an adventure or two.
She made her way to the inn, where she lived. Gorion had tried to get her a room in the library but Ulraunt was against it, even now that she was an adult, and since he was Keeper of the Tomes his word was final in Candlekeep. Silandra had always felt it unfair that Ulraunt appeared to judge her on what she was, that he had no faith in her ability to control her magic despite how far she had come.
She decided to drop into the priests' quarters on her way to see if any of her favorite tutors were around. She didn't want to leave without saying goodbye, thought with the short amount of time Gorion had given her that was going to be inevitable in some cases. She was already latching onto this as a new reason to resent him. She wondered where Imoen was. She hated the thought of leaving without talking to her best friend first.
She was so lost in thought that it took her a moment to realize the man standing before her was not a priest, nor was he anyone else she knew. He was an elf, though he looked nothing like the ones who usually visited Candlekeep. This man did not appear to be a mage or a scholar; in fact, he looked more like a ruffian, wearing coarse linen clothes and holding a dagger.
He was evidently very excited to see her for some reason. She kept an eye on his dagger, barely listening to what he was saying.
"I do not recognize you," she said. "Who are you?"
"Who I am is unimportant, but who you are is very much so," he said. "I do apologize; I hate to kill a pretty thing like you, but it would seem your head is worth an exceptional amount to—"
In a panic, she let a magic missile fly in a burst of pink light before the elf could put that dagger to use. She was glad he apparently had such a speech to get out before he struck, though she did wish he had said something a little more useful, such as who wanted her dead. She was not sure she would have made it if she had waited, her nerves too frazzled to even try her charm, and now he was useless for speaking, his chest smoking and his eyes glazing over in death.
She stood there a moment, trying to process what had just happened. She had never killed anyone before, and violence was forbidden within Candlekeep, but surely it was different when he was threatening to kill her? Fingers trembling, she searched the man's pocket for clues, but all he had on him was the dagger he had planned on killing her with.
She didn't know what to do with the body so she just left, trying to act normal. Maybe she would be gone before anyone found him.
Despite her best efforts, she felt her composure slipping as she walked purposefully towards the inn, trying to avoid making eye contact with anyone. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or even more anxious when her eyes fell on a familiar figure, but he had noticed her already and she knew she could not ignore him.
"Good afternoon, Hull," she said, trying her best to smile.
"Sil, what's wrong?" asked the tall armored man.
Silandra sighed. Hull was a few years older than her and had come to the keep when he was young, so they had known each other a long time. Too long for her to fool him easily. Of course, since he was a Watcher, perhaps he could help her.
"Gorion came to me after my morning lesson and told me we're leaving Candlekeep," she said. "I'm on my way to the inn to get supplies and wanted to say goodbye to as many people as possible first, so I entered the priest quarters and… A man in there attacked me. He's dead now."
Hull was clearly shocked. "Are you alright?"
"Fine, just… a little shaken."
"And you're really leaving?"
"Gorion wants to depart soon. He didn't say why."
"I should investigate the man who attacked you but… if you're leaving so soon it can wait. Perhaps instead I should accompany you until you leave. I'll feel better knowing you're safe."
Silandra smiled, though she held back the magic that came so naturally at such times. That was especially important around men. "Thank you," she said. "I can't imagine it happening again, but I'd appreciate your company. Were you heading to the inn?"
"Aye, we got a little carried away with our ale last night and Fuller forgot he was out of bolts. So of course he sent me out to fetch them for him. Figured I'd grab a meal too. Have you eaten yet?"
"No, but I don't have much time."
"You shouldn't set out on a journey on an empty stomach. Winthrop always has something delicious ready to go. You can eat while you walk if you have to, if that's not too unladylike for you."
Silandra managed a laugh at that. "You know I'm no lady, no matter how Gorion insists I act like one."
When they reached the inn she headed upstairs to pack, leaving Hull to order food. She checked the room beside hers, which belonged to Imoen, but it was empty. She sighed and headed into her own room. She set down her rucksack and emptied it onto her bead. She could not take all those books with her; they would be too heavy, though she regretted the interruption to her studies. She did place her spellbook back in the bag. That was something she didn't think she could go without.
As she packed, she thought for the first time how lucky it was that she did not have too many possessions. Definitely nothing of any kind of sentimental value, except perhaps some of her dresses. She knew it was silly to care so much about clothing, but she liked to look nice.
She glanced at herself in the mirror, but of course she lingered longer than necessary. She couldn't help it; that was just one of the faults of what she was. She was beautiful and she liked looking at beautiful things. Her skin was very pale, yet she did not burn in the sun. Her eyes were a deep forest green, and she had long golden hair that she always wore braided and pinned up, since that was what proper young ladies did. The style made her ears seem more prominent; their slight points the main reason people assumed she was a half-elf. Her facial features could be considered elven and she was slim and on the short side like half-elves often were. It was easier to let people believe that was her heritage, for a human with nymph blood was rare and unlikely to be trusted, or so Gorion had told her.
She replaced her soft shoes with a battered pair of boots and drew an equally worn cloak over her dress, then hurried downstairs, her bag slung over her back.
She had just reached the table where Hull was sitting when she noticed a familiar looking visitor.
"Mr. Elvenhair, I did not know you were coming," she said, nodding in respect to a green and gold robed man standing by the fire.
"Yes, I am back within these hallowed halls," the man sighed. "With this iron crisis upon us, the trip from Beregost was more hazardous than I care to relate. You seem to grow more beautiful every time I visit, if you don't mind me saying."
Silandra almost never minded acknowledgments of her beauty and, at least in this case, she knew the man had no ulterior motives where she was concerned. Firebead Elvenhair was a powerful old mage who always made time for her questions and treated her far more kindly than Gorion ever had.
"I didn't know we had an iron crisis," Silandra said. "It's not easy to keep up on current events when I'm not supposed to 'bother' our visitors."
"I doubt very much any visitors would be bothered by you, Silandra. The ore coming from the mine down in Nashkel is tainted somehow, and bringing any in from further away is proving difficult because bandits have taken to attacking the caravans."
"I hope it isn't too dangerous out there. I don't know if you've heard yet, but Gorion and I are leaving today. I'm just having a quick lunch and then I'll say my goodbyes."
"Yes, I have heard," the old mage said, looking thoughtful. "Go on, eat, don't let me keep you. I wish you luck on your journey, young Silandra."
With that, he headed out the door. She wanted to ask him what he knew about her upcoming 'journey', since she suspected it was more than she herself knew. But there was no time.
"Sorry about that," she said, taking a seat across from Hull.
"You really didn't know about the iron?" he asked, apparently unperturbed.
"No," Silandra said, taking a bite out of one of Winthrop's famous chicken pies.
"I suppose you don't spend enough time here, or you'd have heard something by now," he said. "Everyone's been talking about it. It could be a real problem if it doesn't get solved soon."
"It seems strange that Gorion's finally letting me leave at such a dangerous time," Silandra said.
Hull shrugged. "He knows how to keep you safe."
They ate quickly, and Silandra headed over to Winthrop. She could just tell he was about to launch into one of the jokes he found so amusing, but she held up her hand.
"Sorry Winthrop, I'm in a hurry," she said. "Gorion and I are leaving shortly and I need supplies."
"I see," Winthrop said, his usual jovial expression replaced by concern. "When'll you be back?"
"I don't know. Regardless, I should probably travel light. How about some darts, a water flask and rations for, say, a week?"
"You got it," Winthrop said, gathering a few things from the shelves and cabinets behind him. "Imoen'll miss ya."
Silandra had been trying not to think too much about having to leave her best friend. "Do you know where she is? I want to find her before I leave."
"She snuck off earlier, as she does. Ya know better than I where she might be."
Silandra and Hull left the inn moments later. He had insisted on carrying her bag, which was a little heavier than she had anticipated. Winthrop had added a few items he called 'traveling essentials' at no extra cost. Silandra wore the darts in a plain leather belt, since 'they wouldn't do any good in her bag', as both Hull and Winthrop had told her.
"Let's go past the garrison so I can drop off Fuller's bolts," said Hull. "I've got to get this antidote to Dreppin too. I almost forgot."
"Why? Is he sick?"
"No, no. It's for one of his cows. Yeah, I know."
Silandra smiled as they walked. Dreppin was around her age and worked with the animals. He did seem to love those cows.
They arrived at the garrison where they stopped briefly to speak with Fuller. He wasn't up for much talking, but he was concerned enough about Silandra going outside Candlekeep in such 'dangerous times' that he gave her a magical dagger. He brushed off her awed thanks as if he had hundreds of them to give away and it was no big deal.
"Perhaps Imoen is in the bunkhouse," said Hull. "She's short sheeted the beds more than once."
"We can at least check," said Silandra. She felt an hour may already have passed, and knew it was not a good idea to keep Gorion waiting, but she had to find Imoen first.
Imoen was not in the bunkhouse, but a scruffy blonde man with a dagger was.
"'Ere there, you're Gorion's whelp aren't ya?" he said, eyes quickly darting between her and Hull. "You don't look so dangerous to me, little girl."
"Who are you to threaten her?" Hull asking, drawing his sword.
"It don't matter who I am," the man said. "Ya really wanna throw your life away defendin' 'er?"
"I'm not the one who'll be dying today," Hull replied.
Although the stranger only had a dagger, Silandra was worried when they began to fight. It turned out there was no need, for it only took a moment for Hull to kick the man to the ground and pin him there with a heavy steel boot. He didn't even need to use his sword.
"Sil, you need to get to Gorion," said Hull. "I'll get to the bottom of this, but it's clear Candlekeep is no longer safe for you. Don't go inside any of the buildings. Straight to the library, you hear?"
"Of course. Thank you, Hull. I… I hope I'll return soon."
"Good luck. Take care of yourself out there."
She left the bunkhouse quickly, her bag heavy on her shoulders. She practically ran the short distance remaining to the library, not even slowing down to admire the gardens she usually enjoyed. All of a sudden, someone darted in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. She was so on edge that she jumped with fright before realizing who it was. Imoen was the only one who wore that particular shade of pink.
"Heya Sil, it's only me," she said, laughing. "What's up with you today?"
Silandra didn't want to worry her, not when she was about to leave. "I'm glad you found me. I'm leaving Candlekeep. Gorion's already waiting for me."
"I know all about your journey," Imoen said. "Wish I could go with ya."
"How do you know? And maybe you can come with us…"
"Oh, don't be silly. Gorion would never even let you finish the sentence. Especially after what that letter of his said… er… did I say that? Nope, never saw no letter. You'd better get going. Gorion's waiting."
"Wait, what letter? What do you know?"
Imoen hugged Silandra briefly. "You're gonna have an adventure Sil," she said. "You can tell me about it when you get back. Now don't keep Mr. G. waiting!"
With that, she was gone. Well, Imoen had never really been the sentimental type, but Silandra had expected a little more of a goodbye. After all, she may not return for a long time. She knew she was out of time, so she continued on her way to the library stairs, wondering what Imoen knew that she did not. At least she was probably about to find out.
Gorion was wearing gray traveling robes and held a quarterstaff, though Silandra knew he had little reason to use it with all the magic he had at his disposal. He looked paler and thinner than usual, and the frown he greeted her with did nothing to improve his appearance.
"Silandra, it's about time," he said. "Are you ready to go?"
"I guess," she replied. She would ask him what could possibly hurt her here, but after the attacks her faith in Candlekeep's safety was fractured. "I was attacked twice since I last saw you."
She thought he actually looked concerned for a moment, but he did not seem surprised. "I was afraid of that. Candlekeep is indeed a formidable obstacle for ne'er-do-wells, but it is not insurmountable. No matter how thick the mesh, at least one mosquito always finds its way through. This is why we must leave."
"Why would anyone want to attack me?" Silandra asked, following Gorion through the gardens.
"I'll tell you once we're well away from here. For now, we must make haste."
As they walked—Silandra struggling to match Gorion's long strides—she wondered why he had not told her that she was in danger. She wasn't sure whether to be glad he had enough faith in her abilities to let her move around the keep unaware, or upset that he perhaps didn't care enough to have a Watcher shadow her. She was glad she had run into Hull, for she was not certain she would have been lucky enough to survive the second attack on her own.
They reached the gates of Candlekeep quickly, though Silandra was no longer in the mood to appreciate having the chance to finally leave. Were those men who wanted her dead the reason she had to leave?
"Listen carefully!" Gorion said, his serious tone drawing her attention instantly. "If we ever become separated, it is imperative that you make your way to the Friendly Arm Inn. There you will meet Khalid and Jaheira. They have long been my friends and you can trust them."
Silandra barely had time to nod before he was heading out the gate, leaving her no choice but to hurry after him.
"Where are we going?" she asked, though she quickly realized she wasn't going to be able to do much talking at the pace they were going.
"You'll know soon enough," Gorion said. "For now we must move quickly."
"Will I return?"
"I do not know."
Silandra frowned, but continued after him. He left the road shortly after they had begun, and when she breathlessly asked why, he told her it was a shortcut. She had always read that it was safest to keep to the main roads, for there were all manner of dangerous creatures in the wilderness and there was also a good chance of getting lost. But Gorion was one of the wisest people she knew, and she made herself trust him.
It only took an hour before her legs began to protest, and her shoulders burned from the weight of her pack which seemed to grow heavier the longer she held it. But Gorion kept going, and surely if an old man could maintain that pace then she could too.
The sky darkened and a light rain began to fall but still they walked, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Silandra kept lagging behind despite her best efforts, the combination of aching limbs and her weariness from last night's lack of sleep making it hard to continue, but Gorion simply told her to keep up.
"Let's hurry, Silandra!" he said, as if she wasn't already moving as quickly as she could. "The night can only get worse so we must find shelter soon. Don't worry; I will explain everything as soon as there is time."
She wondered what constituted shelter to him, for all she could see were a few clumps of trees here and there, appearing sinister in the darkness. She did her best to push on, but she knew she was reaching her limit. She just wasn't used to such activity; the most physical work she usually did consisted of walking around the keep doing her chores which themselves were hardly strenuous.
Suddenly Gorion stopped, staff at the ready. "Wait! There is something wrong. We are in an ambush. Prepare yourself!"
Silandra felt her heart nearly stop beating. She did not like the fear she thought she detected in his voice. What could he possibly have to be afraid of out here? She drew the magic dagger Fuller had given her, noticing that it glowed ever so slightly in the darkness. She tried to make her mind focus on preparing a magic missile, but she felt she would be lucky to even put her dagger to use with how exhausted she was. If she wasn't so anxious, she may be able to try charming someone. Surely Gorion would not mind her using that ability in a situation like this.
"You're perceptive for an old man," came a deep voice from the darkness somewhere ahead. "You know why I'm here. Hand over your ward and no one will be hurt. If you resist it shall be a waste of your life."
The speaker came into view, a large figure wearing dark, spiked armor that made him appear more demon than man. His face was obscured by his horned helmet; all that she could see were his eyes which seemed to glow gold. He wielded a dark greatsword, which Silandra thought looked to be almost as long as she was tall. Human archers and ogres flanked him, and a woman stood a few steps behind, armored and carrying a flail and shield.
"You're a fool if you believe I would trust your benevolence," said Gorion. "Step aside and you and your lackeys will be unhurt."
"I'm sorry that you feel that way old man."
The ogres moved in, and the archers nocked arrows while the woman began to cast a spell.
"Run Silandra! Get out of here!" Gorion yelled, already launching into a spell of his own.
Silandra felt frozen, and could only watch as Gorion sent a lightning bolt from his fingertips, scorching the ogres to death. She didn't want to just leave him, but she knew she was next to useless here. A flaming arrow shot towards her from the woman, and she only just managed to dodge so it only singed her arm. The burning pain was the shock she needed to move, and soon she was running through the wilderness with no thought as to where she was going, only that she needed to get away.
She didn't think she was being chased, but she did not feel like it was safe to stop running until the sounds of battle faded away. She eventually came across a small thicket and crept inside, sitting with her back against one of the bigger trunks. Even if she tried, she didn't think she could run any further. The night was quiet now, and her last thought before succumbing to exhaustion was of Gorion's safety.