Out Of The Shadows
Chapter Three:
Awakening
"She looks familiar," Quayle squinted over the red haired girl as he rubbed his spectacles with the hem of his shirt. "I think I may have travelled with her for a bit last year, near Baldur's Gate. I liked the look of her and her friends and we happened to be going the same way. Which was north. Or south... it could have been east. I think she had one of those silly girl's crushes on me; just wouldn't leave me alone. But of course nothing could come of it, poor thing..."
"Uncle Quayle!" Aerie snapped a look at him, her brow furrowing crossly. The Elf was quite a small person by Elf or Human standards; just a little over five feet. But she still stood well above the Gnome. Under normal circumstances she'd be happy to humour him and listen intently to his reminiscing, even though she knew his memory was a bit... selective, and what he remembered and what he imagined often became entangled. "I-I don't think we have time for this..."
"I don't think she's going anywhere, my dear," he put his spectacles back on and looked more closely at the redhead on Aerie's bed. They had closed the shutters in the caravan, so he held up a lamp as he examined the girl who squirmed and grimaced, although she still hadn't regained consciousness. "Not for a while, anyway."
Aerie sagged slightly. She didn't know why Baervar had granted her powers to heal; she had been studying magic for some time, but the first time she had become aware of possessing divine power was after two of the male chimps had a fight. She'd placed her hand over the wounds of one of them and she suddenly was able to visualise all of the matter around the wound and command it to grow and heal. Since then she'd read every book she had on anatomy and medicine several times while keeping up her studies of magic. Regrettably though, the number of books available to her was few; another reason she was always happy when Bentha was around and brought her own library. But Aerie's experience as a healer was still very little; she'd thought that Quayle, who had lived a few centuries and seen and done many things outside the circus, was sure to know what was wrong with the red haired girl she'd found, if anyone did. Her hopes were dashed very quickly:
"I've never seen anything like it," he said, "sweating, fever... all the signs are that she's fighting some kind of infection. But there is no infection..."
The elf already knew that much. When she had found the girl she'd thought she must have been hurt in the explosion, but all she could see was a bruise on her chin. It was clear the redhead was dehydrated and a little malnourished as well, but it was only when Aerie had tried to help her up that she'd noticed the high fever. She'd already tried all the healing spells she knew, but to no avail.
"What... w-what about a curse?" The blonde elf asked.
"I don't think so, no," Quayle pursed his lips and shook his head, clearly baffled. "Maybe we should take her to one of the temples?"
"I... I-I know that's what we should do," Aerie sighed, "but, i-it's just that... she was running."
"Running?" Quayle arched a small eyebrow. "From what?"
"I-I don't know... but she looked scared. I just... I-I think," Aerie stumbled with her words, biting her lip. "I'm sorry. I'm sure you know what's best."
"No," Quayle said with an encouraging smile, "finish your thought, Aerie. I won't become angry if I disagree."
"Well... I just think, i-if she was running from something, a-and that something is still out there, then... i-it might be expecting her to show up at a temple."
"Maybe," the old Gnome nodded thoughtfully. But then his expression shifted abruptly, he looked on his adopted niece suddenly full of concern and worry. "But maybe the something will come here... no, no... its too dangerous to keep her here. I can't allow anything that might hurt you..."
"Uncle," Aerie said with a sharp intake of breath. She knew what he thought; he thought she was too soft for anything that was out there. Maybe she was; she didn't know. She didn't know about anything out there, but she did know she wanted to find those things out for herself. It wasn't as if life in here was exactly comfortable for her, anyway. "I-I'm not weak. I can defend myself with magic a-and..."
"You mustn't!" Quayle gasped. "If you use your magic in the open you'll be taken away like that sorcerer this morning."
"But... Uncle, w-what's the point of me learning a-and having this power if I've got to keep it a secret," the Elf said, barely able to disguise her frustration.
"You won't have to always, my dear. One day, when you're more confident and used to people, one day you'll be able to help me do the shows and maybe take over, one day..."
"Y-yes, Uncle," Aerie said resignedly. She was such a coward... she knew that day was never going to come. She had no real interest in Circus tricks and illusions. If it weren't for the fact that she owed him her life...
"It's natural to be concerned," the Gnome sighed, "but I have to think about you... us. There are just too many unknowns."
"You... you said you knew her?" Aerie asked. She wasn't ready to give up on this just yet; this was one of the very few times in her life she actually felt sure about something, although she wasn't completely sure why. But she knew that trusting the girl to anyone else right now was the wrong thing to do.
"Briefly, I think... yes. We went to Durlag's Tower together."
"Du... t-that old Dwarven tower you were talking about?" Aerie froze, her mouth hanging open. "But... y-you said it was dangerous!"
"I'm sorry, Aerie, my dear. I just wanted one last adventure... I went there to solve the mystery. Heh... what I learnt though was that I'm really much too old to be running from traps and shadows or playing with magic mirrors..."
"I-I'm not upset that you went," Aerie assured him, "I'm upset that you went without... Uh, anyway, look at her, Uncle. S-she might die if we abandon her now..."
"She might die if we keep her here," Quayle reminded, "we don't know what her ailment is. At least at a temple there are a lot more resources, priests, books... a far better chance of someone knowing something that will help her."
Aerie leant back, folding her arms. There was no disputing Uncle Quayle's logic, and yet she couldn't shake the feeling that it was wrong, like there was a little voice telling her that she had to take care of the girl. Maybe it was just that... seeing her the first time, that look of fear and confusion, and now the threat of abandonment to some unknown fate, Aerie was reminded... and of course, there was still the matter of what it was she was running from.
"I think we should at least keep her here until morning," the Elf uttered, "s-see if her condition improves... i-it might not be safe to move her again now."
"Very well, Aerie," the old Gnome conceded, "until morning, then. You stay and watch over her; I'll make sure someone covers your chores. But, if she wakes up or if anything happens, anything at all, you just come and get me, okay?"
"Yes, Uncle," the Elf said with a sweet smile.
"Come here," the Gnome held his arms out. Aerie knelt in front of him and they embraced in a hug, Quayle gently pecking her forehead before letting go. "You be careful, you hear?"
"Of course I will!" Aerie grinned. "Thank you, Uncle."
He left, then. The show still had to go on, and there were other people with minor injuries he had to tend to. Aerie was alone with the red haired girl; not much to do but make her comfortable, and then make herself comfortable. After squeezing some more water from a towel and placing it on the girl's forehead, the Elf went to other end of the caravan, where the other bed was. There was a chest there, beneath the brightly coloured posters that advertised acts such as Esmeralda the Fortune Teller, Dinky the Elephant and The Amazing Oompah.
She remembered Oompah; one good thing about the Circus was that people of all different races came here, because they had nowhere else. Oompah was an Ogre, a race most people considered monsters. He wasn't, but what they did to him... that was cruel beyond belief. She wasn't surprised to hear that he'd snapped; if people treated someone like a beast they probably shouldn't be surprised when that person started to act like one. Oompah was no beast; he just didn't have the faculties to deal with things in any way other than what he did... and then they'd put him down.
But, she wasn't here to dwell on the past. She knelt down and the top of the chest made a loud creaking, grinding noise as she opened it. Inside it were books. All the books that she had... well, that Quayle had, really. Books about all sorts of things; about magic, about healing, about science and Gnomish engineering, about philosophy and about art... there were even books that were about other books. There were novels too; they told stories about adventurers in faraway lands, and even on other worlds. She had read every single one of these books at least five or six times. They were her escape from the cruelty as well as the tedium that took place around her every day.
She glanced up, hearing the red haired girl moan... but she was still asleep, still grimacing as if someone was hurting her. Aerie wished she could help, but all she could do was wait and hope. She picked up a book at random and sat down on the other bed to begin her vigil.
'It came to me in a dream that there was absolutely nothing in the world; no bodies, no sky, none of those little buns with icing and a cherry... indeed, no world. Instead we were all the victims of some 'supreme being', greater even than any of the Gods we know, or think we do, who had been deceiving me for my entire life. What I believed was the world, but had only ever perceived through my unreliable senses, was in fact no more than an illusion. A fantasy created by some grinning idiot who hadn't combed his hair, indeed hadn't left his bedroom for a week, and who rolled dice to determine my fate...'
The red haired girl groaned again... this time Aerie thought she heard her whisper something. 'Please, no... help me...' was what the Elf thought she'd heard, but she wasn't sure. As pointy as her ears were, she was absorbed in the text when the barely decipherable mumbling reached them. In any case, it was highly improbable that the girl was trying to talk to her and was now back in exactly the same state she had been in before. Aerie resumed reading:
'... Does it follow that I too, do not exist? No; if I convinced myself of something then I existed. If there is some deceiver, deceiving me, I must also exist in order to be deceived. He can never bring about that I am nothing so long as I think that I am something. I think... I am... this proposition is necessarily true whenever it is put forward by my mind...'
Mind... Aerie thought; If there was no infection invading the girl's body, what about something invading her mind? Was that possible? There were, she knew, all kinds of spells that affected the minds of people... or maybe possession, but Quayle at least should have been able to pick up on that.
She put the book down; the rest of it was all very fascinating, even though she didn't necessarily agree with all it's conclusions... the bit that said only Humans were capable of reason was particularly aggravating. She went over to girl, who was still squirming, grimacing... Aerie didn't know if she was imagining it, but the pain seemed to be getting worse. How could she find out what was going on in there?
Certainly there were spells she knew that would allow her to see into the mind of another person... although not exactly to read their minds. They were more empathic; to know if the person was lying, or at least if they thought they were, or to reveal whether their intentions were hostile or benign. Not terribly useful right now, and they only really worked if the person was awake... but maybe she could take some elements from those and combine them with a simple scrying spell...
Aerie went to work, excited by the idea of trying something she never had before, which was most things. But this was finally a chance for her to put all the things she had been learning since Quayle had taken her in to real use. She found a blank piece of parchment, a quill and ink, and began to work out the symbols for her new spell. It took her five minutes. She wondered if she should test it first, but she was pretty sure that nothing she'd done could actually harm the girl... the very worst that could happen was her head exploding, but there was only about a one in two million chance of that. The Elf was confident she could do this, and for once there was no one around who could tell her otherwise.
For the scrying, she would need a bowl filled with some kind of liquid... the goat's milk would do. She put the bowl down near the girl and took a small brush she painted with some times; Quayle tried to encourage her to resume the hobbies that had made her happy as a child. Aerie was sure she wasn't very good despite what her Uncle said, but... anyway, she dipped the end of the brush into the goats milk and 'painted' a circle on the red haired girl's forehead. With that done she was just about ready. She just sprinkled a bit of dust on the girl, and into the bowl, closed her eyes, tried to think happy thoughts, and then began reciting the magic words in the ancient language of the elves. There were no flashing, sparkling lights that danced around her; only mages who wanted to show off ever had those. It wasn't how magic really worked; it was more subtle.
At first it didn't appear that anything had happened. Aerie finished reciting and opened her eyes, peering into the bowl. Her hand went to her face, thinking she must have had a nosebleed when she noticed a few red droplets in the white liquid... but, no... it wasn't blood. Not her blood, anyway... more and more of the white turned red, little tendrils spreading across the surface of the liquid and then growing and swallowing up everything around them until half of the bowl was covered. What this meant was, Aerie was right; the blood red represented something that was almost like a second consciousness... although that was perhaps a slight oversimplification. It was hard to be sure when all you had to go on was differently coloured liquids swirling round each other. Whatever it was, the girl was fighting it, and she was losing; the red was still growing, slowly. If it kept going like it was, then before morning came it would have completely taken over her body.
Aerie had to find a way of stopping it, and fast; she didn't know if there was even time to find Quayle and fill him in on what she'd found. The invader's progress might accelerate at any time... but how could she stop it? She couldn't exactly jump into the girl's dream and help her... could she? No, it was too risky right now. She didn't know anything about the girl, or even if stopping the invader was actually better. But, a person had a right to their own body... and if she had travelled with Quayle she at least had to be a very patient person.
She doubted she could remove it, and trying to do so could be extremely dangerous... they were too entangled. All she could do was suppress it... force it back into the girl's unconscious mind. This she believed could be accomplished through another hastily prepared recipe she'd just thought of, this time the components mixed with some nice warm tea and made into a potion. She threw it all together into a pot filled with water, heated it with some magically created fire, stirred it as she uttered the enchantment and then poured it into a cup.
Aerie lifted the red haired girl's head slightly, pressing the cup to her lips and tipping it up until the girl started to swallow. Now she just had to wait again... she was surprised to see, when she looked into the bowl, that there was a change almost immediately. The red tendrils started to retreat and shrink back, far faster than she had hoped for...
"Wha..? Who... who are you?" Aerie stood up so hastily that she sent the bowl flying; it didn't matter. The red haired girl was awake and starting to sit up. Although elated at her success, the Elf soon recalled that she didn't know what had happened to the girl... or what she would make of her. She could still be hostile.
"Er... I'm... I'm Aerie," the Elf said, standing and trying, unsuccessfully, to hide her apprehension.
"Hiya, Aerie!" The red haired girl said with a big smile. "I'm Imoen. It's always nice to meet nice people. You're an Elf?"
"Er, y-yes... the ears usually give that away," Aerie said in an attempt at humour; she was told that was a good way of easing the tension in any situation. Imoen just glared at her though... "Um... are you feeling okay?"
"Yeah... I think so... hang on," Imoen knocked her own head a few times with her fist, "hello, anyone there? No? Yup... I'm fine."
"Er... are you sure?" The Elf tilted her head, a little bit worried...
"Sure," Imoen laughed, "I think I was going a bit mad for a while there, but... I feel fine now. Well, as fine as I have done for a long time, anyway."
"Okay... good," she didn't seem dangerous, Aerie thought... just a little strange. "Do... d-do you remember anything?"
"I was... dreaming, I think. It's all a bit hazy," Imoen stared into space, "I was... I was fighting someone. But I was so weak, and they were so strong. I was losing... I thought I was going to die, and then... I saw you," the redhead shrugged.
"What... wh-what about before the dream?"
"Before?" Imoen looked away and her smile faded. "I-I-I don't..."
"I'm sorry," Aerie stepped back, lowering her head and bowing submissively. "I-it's none of my business. I'm sorry..."
"It's... it's fine," Imoen regarded the Elf bemusedly, "I'm sure if I was in your position I'd be bombarding myself with questions right now. You deserve some answers, having brought me into your... home? And I'm assuming I have you to thank for making me feel better," Imoen knelt down and picked up some of the pieces of paper scattered across the floor, that Aerie written on when she was figuring out her spells. "Wow... did you do all this?"
"Yeh... y-yes. I-I probably shouldn't have done, I know... I-I'd never tried anything like that before..."
"Don't know of anyone who has. I see you're not just book smart. This... this is genius, Aerie."
"Really?" Aerie said, truly startled. "I... th-thank you."
"You've got to be better at taking praise though," Imoen laughed again as she approached the Elf, "say, 'ah, it was nothing... just what I do'. Be a bit nonchalant about it. Also, back straight... chin up... isn't that better? Now I can talk to you and not the top of your head."
Imoen joined her hands together above her head and stretched and yawned. Aerie kept her eyes on her, although the Elf was less apprehensive than she had been. The red haired girl seemed nice, and that was the only thing Aerie ever wished for in people. She wasn't complex in that way; she just liked people who didn't push her or kick her all the time.
"So, you wanna know who is this crazy girl is and why she was running around through... I don't even know where this is," Imoen paused, "what city?"
"Athkatla," Aerie answered.
"Oh. So, Jae's tastebuds were right again... oh," Imoen tilted her head, clearly troubled by some thought, "she is going to be so furious. I shouldn't have ran... I don't even know why I did. It seemed to make sense at the time...but I guess I was just panicky and scared. I've been adventuring for a while now, but I've never been so trapped and helpless, unable to defend myself... or anyone else. It all just became too much," Imoen paused again, turned and looked at Aerie who was obviously still confused. "Sorry... I'm losing ya, huh?" The Elf nodded. "Okay..."
"I see your work; I see you've already figured out there's something... different. Something inside me," Imoen sighed, "I guess you ought to know what that thing is. See... do you know anything about The Time of Troubles?"
"I-I remember it, a little," Aerie said.
"Right," Imoen smiled. "I forget sometimes... you seem so young. I mean, at least about the same age as me. But you could be four hundred years old for all I know."
"I-I'm not that old," Aerie smiled back. "Age is a little bit relative, I suppose... a Dog is ancient after living just fifteen years. I... well, I probably am about the same age as you, relatively speaking... Oh!" The Elf suddenly went wide eyed and backed away, shaking her hand, "I-I wasn't comparing you to a Dog. I-I was just..."
"I got it, Aerie. You're alright," Imoen shook her head, still smiling. "So... there was a God called Bhaal. You know anything about him?"
"He... he was the God of Murder."
"Yup. You can probably imagine that he wasn't all that nice. In fact, he was a berk. But someone foretold before the Time of Troubles, when God's were made mortal, that he was going to die. So he thought, to make sure that didn't happen, he'd have a load of kids. So that when he perished enough of his essence would be left in the world that his followers could resurrect him... except that they didn't, and all his children are still out there. You see where this is going?"
"So... y-you're..."
"Yup. Bhaal is my father," Imoen threw out her arms dramatically.
Aerie sat down on the bed. Imoen kept looking at her, gauging her. She didn't know what the red haired girl was expecting; she had no reason to doubt that Bhaal was her father, and given that he was the God of murder she should probably be worried for her safety... but she just couldn't equate that evil deity with the young woman who had said she was a 'genius'. Imoen was exaggerating, obviously, but it was a nice thing to have said. All of this... it just wasn't something that ever happened. Only it had and Aerie had no idea how to react to it.
"Well... you're not screaming or running away," Imoen said, "that's a good sign, I hope."
"I'm sorry, I-I just... I've never met a demigod before."
"I've never felt like a demigod," Imoen sighed and sagged as she sat down as well, "it sounds ridiculous every time I say it. I only found out a few months ago. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't believe me... I didn't believe it, until today..."
Imoen went on talking, while Aerie listened. The Elf wondered why Imoen was telling her all this and felt a little guilty about not telling the red haired girl anything about herself. But it became clear that Imoen just wanted someone to actually listen to her as she told her own story; she needed to talk to someone, to get things off her chest, and in so doing perhaps help herself to make sense of them as well. Aerie hadn't ran away; she didn't know how she could really help, but she was willing to listen at least.
Imoen told her about Candlekeep; Aerie had heard of the great library of course, where copies were kept of every book ever written. It was one of the places she most wanted to visit, one day... of course, if she did she might never leave. Imoen spoke fondly of it too, although she speculated that having too much choice of reading material was responsible for her quite poor attention span. She spoke about Winthrop, her foster father, and Gorion, her teacher, and the night she left with the later and how on that night she had ran away as well. She spoke of the Iron shortage and Sarevok; Aerie remembered that as well. At least, she'd overheard worried conversations and felt the rising tension in the air as she'd gone about her usual chores.
Although clearly saddened by the memories of Gorion and her foster father, it wasn't until Imoen started recounting the recent events that had led her to be in Aerie's caravan that her tone really started to change. She became more distant, distracted. Her expressions were pained and anguished as she recalled being locked in a birdcage and tortured... she hinted that Aerie might not understand what that was like, to which the Elf said nothing but sighed silently. And she described the deaths, to which Aerie's heart clenched... she could barely imagine how horrible it must have been to see people you cared about like that...
"... and then I ran," Imoen said, just after describing what she remembered of this 'Irenicus' being taken away. "I didn't want to ever stop running. I wanted to get as far away from it all as I could... pretty stupid, huh? How can you run from something that's inside you."
"It wasn't your fault," Aerie said quietly, "i-it wasn't your fault those people died."
"But Irenicus wanted me... or what's inside me anyway. He didn't care at all about anyone else."
"No, h-he didn't. But you do... I can see you do. T-that's why I know it can't be your fault... you didn't make him do any of those things."
"No, I didn't... but I should have done more. I shouldn't have run..."
"But what could you do?"
"I don't know," Imoen snapped a little angrily, forcing Aerie to recoil. The redhead closed her eyes and took a breath. "Sorry," she said, "I just... it's a little frustrating, y'know? Ever since that night I saw Sarevok for the first time, I've just been moved along by people. There have been people trying to kill me, and other people fighting and dying for me and I just go along with it, let myself be led around by folks like a... a puppy. I've no control of anything, not even my own life. And worst thing is none of this was supposed to happen to me; it was my other brother, the stronger 'spawn', who was supposed to be the one to fulfil all these stupid prophecies. So much for destiny..."
"Fate," Aerie said suddenly. Imoen looked at her curiously. "I-I think you mean 'so much for fate'."
"Well, destiny, fate... same thing, aren't they?"
"No... at least, n-not according to my book. Fate is something that can't be avoided; i-it has to happen. But, destiny is where your choices take you."
"Your choices..." Imoen appeared to think very deeply about this. "And... sometimes, crap just happens, right?"
"I... I suppose so, yes."
"Thanks, Aerie," Imoen said with a friendly smile, "you've really helped me out."
"Er... I-I have?" The Elf said, confused.
"Yup... I think I'm starting to see what I have to do. I can't just be a follower... I have to start making my own choices."
"Yes," Aerie nodded. Being in control of one's own life was important, she knew. There was still one thing she was curious about though. "Y-you said in your dream you were fighting someone... a-and when I examined you, it was almost like there was someone else in there..."
"Oh... her..." Imoen said disdainfully.
"Her?" Aerie was surprised. "I... I-I thought it would be... Bhaal. Or, Bhaal's essence..."
"It is, I think... but, it had some of my personality as well... but, twisted."
"I-is that normal?"
"Don't know. Haven't exactly been able to compare notes with any other 'spawn'... Whenever I bump into one it tends to end with them trying to cut my head off with a big sword while screaming 'there can be only one!' I was never aware of it before... maybe it was something Irenicus did... maybe I was so scared in there that it 'thought' it had to take drastic measures to try and save itself."
"But... i-if it was Bhaal w-wouldn't it want to try to carry out his plan to get resurrected. Why did it say it wanted your body?"
"Maybe by taking on some of my traits it became a whole new entity... half me, half Bhaal. Maybe... it wants to live. Or maybe I was just going mad... I just don't know. You put it back where it belongs so it's all okay now, right?"
"I... y-yes," Aerie of course didn't really know. None of her books talked about how the essence of a dead God might manifest itself in his children. She just told Imoen what she thought she needed to hear.
"Good. Now... what do you do for fun around here?"