From that last one though we go on to something a whole lot more serious, with Aerie confronting fear.

No One
~*~

She could hear dripping. She could smell... something rotten. It was cold and dark and damp and she was lying on her back but everything else was still foggy. She couldn't remember any of the events that had led her to wake up here, wherever it was. She started to count the number of drops and after ten she had remembered her own name. Aerie then started to remember other things as well and had just about gotten through the first twenty or so years of her life when she heard another repetitive sound just a little out of sync with the droplets... footsteps. She had cleared the fog from her eyes enough to see the handle turn and the door creak open.

So, they were coming for her again to play their little game. Unfortunately, it was a game in which there was absolutely no way she could win. If she didn't do what they wanted she got hurt. If she resisted, then they hurt her more. If she did what they wanted then they still hurt her just to prove they were in control. Although to be fair it was probably her own fault for not having done what they'd wanted from the start...

As the figure grabbed her by the back of the neck and dragged her outside, Aerie wondered where the bracelet she was wearing had come from. Other things didn't seem right either; it was never just one of them who came. There was always at least two very muscular men or women with whips versus one little girl. And to make sure it was completely fair, the little girl was bound; if she ever got out they would obviously have to call for back up.

But this time it was just one man who came. And where were the other slaves? There were hundreds of them in different cells; entire families and other relatives sometimes all crammed into just one together. But she hadn't woke up in a cell, had she? It was more like a cellar... and the adjacent room she was in now seemed to be a rather improvised torture chamber.

"You know," the man said as he went about securing her to the table. Aerie was still in too much of a haze to resist, but things were coming back to her; The Circus, Quayle, Jaheira, Minsc, Imoen... and the killer they had all been looking for. "When I first laid eyes on you, I thought you were as bright as you looked. But you figured it out first, didn't you? Pity none of your stupid friends would listen to you, isn't it?" The man grinned. His facial features were best summed up as 'ratty'. "Now it's just going to be you and me down here."

"Y-you're wrong," Aerie tried to answer, but her voice came out as a croak, "my friends are going to find me."

"That's what they all say, Jane."

"J-jane? My name's Aerie..."

"No... I prefer Jane," he said, leaning over her.

"Why?"

"Because it's what I'm going to call you."

"Okay... w-what do I call you?"

"You can call me 'sir' or 'sire' or 'mi'lord' or 'master'... whichever one of those you prefer. I'm not fussy."

It was still a little bit foggy for Aerie but one thing was clear; this man hated her. Even though she was sure she'd never seen him before... at least his face didn't jog any memory. He knew about her though; he must have been watching them as they investigated the murder, waited for her to wander off on her own and then... that smell...

He wasn't as bright as he looked either; he knew if he'd struck her then her magical contingencies could have started working. Instead he snuck up behind and made her breathe in that smell... and she'd smelt it before at the places the others had been murdered. The man Jaheira was after for it was delusional, a fantasist... his story just hadn't made sense. He certainly wasn't someone who knew how to mix chemicals.

Aerie didn't feel much like celebrating her victory though; it meant that he was right too. The others weren't coming... if they were looking for her then they were looking in all the wrong places...

While Aerie was coming to terms with the horrific implications of that realisation, her captor snapped himself upright, his turning and looking up the stairs as if he'd heard something. Maybe they had started believing her after all... but before the elf could cry out he turned back, punching her squarely on the jaw. He'd taken away all her components, symbols and the bracelet prevented her from casting new ones so there was no need for him to be so careful anymore.

When she came to she was back in the other room she'd first woken up in. A room with no windows and only one door which he'd obviously locked. She spent a few minutes sat up trying to wriggle her jaw back into place. She was grateful that the drug seemed to have worn off, but then... was it her or was the room getting smaller?

Of course it was her... Aerie jumped up and started to walk around the room. She'd always had this problem with confined spaces. Her father had said that all Avariel did to varying degrees; of course that may have just been a loving parents attempt to make his child feel like less of a wimp. In any case, she could never feel completely comfortable in a room unless there was a door or window open somewhere... but it was okay, wasn't it? There was air here. She could breathe.

It was hard to believe she had been to the Underdark, and that hadn't made her feel half as afraid as she felt now in some mad man's cellar. But she'd had her friends with her then. Imoen, Minsc, Jaheira; people she trusted... most of the time anyway. And of course she'd had a purpose, a mission, something else to remain focused on.

That was it; she had to focus on something. How about on escaping? The door was solid though and there was no way she was going to bash it down. Even if she knew anything about picking locks... well, there wasn't any lock on this side anyway.

Focus... breathe... she had to keep telling herself to breathe. It was getting warmer in... her chest felt like it had a great weight placed in it. Focus... there was no way she was getting through that door.

"Hippopotamus!" Aerie said out loud for seemingly no reason, leaning back against the wall and shutting her eyes. "Capital H, little i, p, p, o, p, o, t, a, m, u, s..." wonderful. Maybe she could go through the whole bestiary... that would keep her mind focused on other things for a little while at least.

But what was that? She had opened and there was some old rag in the corner covering up something. But she'd only made it half way across the room to investigate when the door creaked open and rat face was back, brandishing a club. He ran at her; she got her arms up just in time to stop it striking her face... at the cost of shattering her arm. He then kicked her in the gut, making sure she wouldn't struggle too much as he dragged her up and back out to that table.

"Look at you," he spat on the elf as he tied her down; although he left one arm, her left one, free. It was the one he'd struck; luckily it wasn't broken. Just hurt a lot. "Just look at you... you know, I hear stuff. The Cowled Wizards and all that lot think you might be some up and coming next big thing... but look what you are without your spells. Just another frightened, weak, girl."

"Right," Aerie gulped. She was frightened; of course she was. There was no way out, the walls were closing in, she could hardly breathe. And she knew exactly what was going to happen next; he was going to take that torch from the wall and then he was going to take her hand, the one he hadn't tied, and he was going to force it into the flame. Only things were going to be different this time. This time she wasn't going to scream. She wasn't weak. "T-that's why I have to be tied down..."

"You're pathetic," he spat again, and again was leaning over her so that she could feel his breath on her ear.

"I-I think that you're frightened by me..."

"Capital P, little a, t, h, e, t, i, c."

So he'd been listening by the door... okay, so she'd gone a little bit mad in there. That hardly mattered; she could see now he was going for the torch. Remember to breathe...

"You still think your friends are going to rescue you?" And now he took her hand. "Hey... maybe they'll come running if they hear you scream..." And she did.

She held out for over a minute, biting down on her lip and clenching her other fist until it started to trickle blood. But she could smell her own flesh burning, the searing pain rising through her arm... it just became too much... there was no way she could win.

--

"C-capital H," Aerie sniffed, "little e, d, g, e, h, o, g." She was coincidentally curled up like one... unfortunately the woollen tunic on her back would offer no protection from predators what so ever. He'd left her alone for hours now; long enough that her tears had all dried up.

The room kept smaller, and warmer... the heat was stifling. Harder and harder to breathe... she had to get out, but there was no way unless she could get this bracelet off. The pain in that same arm had subsided a tiny bit it seemed... focus... that stupid dripping was driving her mad. Drop, drop, drop, echoing through her head... had to get out... the corner...

She pulled away the rag and found some small crates beneath and proceeded to pull each one apart and rifle through their contents. It was all just junk that he must have forgotten about, except... a knife. Big knife... actually, a cleaver. Little rusted, but still sharp. She had to get that bracelet off...

She threw herself on the ground, fingers sprawling as she raised the cleaver... the walls were closing in, suffocating her. She just had to do this one little thing... she had to get out. She had to breathe. She... she couldn't do it. She dropped the cleaver and sat back against the wall, laughing and crying simultaneously.

Focus... try to think rationally. If she had done that, then she'll have passed out within seconds and not have had time to heal herself. There was no way to win.

But wait... she had a cleaver. Why in the world was she thinking of cutting her own arm off with it?

The handle started turning. This was her chance. Aerie took her weapon, stood behind the door and waited for him to step inside. He went down right away, although she had only struck him with the blunt side of the instrument. In spite of everything she wasn't prepared yet to kill him; although a little longer alone in this room and she may have been insane enough. It was pity, because she hadn't knocked him out. He immediately kicked her legs out from under her and was soon on top wrestling the weapon out of her hand, his weight far too great for Aerie to shake him off.

"Guess you are as bright as you look, Jane," he grinned, standing them both up then swinging her around so that her skull cracked against the wall and she fell back down. "I told you, you're nothing," he laughed. And then he stopped; in the scuffle he hadn't noticed someone else steop behind him, tap his shoulder and then punch him in his surprised face.

Aerie didn't see any of this; she was seeing clouds. And the sky and mountains... she was home, and a kindly woman was leaning over her...

"Everything will be alright, child," the woman assured her.

"Momma?" Aerie uttered, softly.

"Not unless she is a very angry druid. You should not have wandered off on your own," the woman took the hand that had been burnt, healing magic flowing into it.

"Ja-Jaheira?" The blonde elf blinked, her mother's face morphing into that of the half-elves. "T-that's just so... wrong..."

"Very. I would have definitely remembered having you."

"H-how did you find me?"

"Well... we found that fella whose diary it was," Imoen said, kneeling next to her friend, "and he confessed... to having been sent here from a small village on the moon to carry out experiments on us. So, then we started doing what you said and looking at alchemists and surgeons and anyone who might have those chemicals. In the end we just got lucky though... found an old guy who said he'd heard someone scream."

"Yes... well, let us not dwell on such matters," Jaheira said. Anyone who didn't know her better might have thought she looked a little embarrassed. "The important thing is that we found you in time."

"That's Jae's way of saying she's sorry, because you were right and she was wrong."

"I suppose so. But do not get used to it."

"You apologising, or you being wrong?"

"Both."

"I-if I hadn't screamed," Aerie thought out loud. She'd been trying prove she wasn't weak... but she had been stronger then she'd be... maybe it was best not to dwell.

"You okay?" Imoen asked, hand on Aerie's shoulder. "You want to get out of here?"

"N-no," the elf shook her head slowly, "not yet."

Aerie stood up and looked across the room where Anomen and Minsc were binding the hands of her torturer. He suddenly seemed very small.

"I'll remember you, Jane," he spat out a tooth.

"It's Aerie," she said, stepping towards him and clenching her fists. "Capital A, small e, r, i, e... remember that," the punch to the face was presumably the full stop.

""What was that, girl?" The man laughed. "Was that supposed to hurt me?" Aerie had to admit to feeling a little disheartened by his reaction... but she did have a back up plan. "I told you you're pa..." he stopped mid sentence, eyes widening with shock and pain. Aerie stepped back, retracting her knee while he collapsed into a ball.

"Do we know his name?" Imoen asked.

"He's no one," Aerie answered. "Now we can get out of here."