Ereven sat on a tree he felled, watching his own fire as a leg of venison crackled and dropping hissing drops of grease into the eagerly licking flames below. His words kept echoing withing his ears. You have my blade, Ascanor. How could he have been so foolish? Was he really so desperate that he accepted help from a tiefling? He could have taken that hydra easily. Why did that little pest have to keep messing with his plans?
He closed his eyes, the fire stirring up echoes of flames of the past. The screaming voices, they pleaded to him for help, for vengeance. He watched as they burst through his door, their spears and swords glinting in the torchlight as they swept the house. He smelled the salty tang of sweat and fear, and blood. He slunk further into the fallen straw of his bed as his mother shrieked for him, a loud squawk before silence. He wrenched his eyes shut, daring only shallow breaths lest they find him, but before he did he managed a peek at those who'd intruded, and they had horns.
He inhaled sharply, back in front of his slowly charring meal. He shook his head, pulling the leg off its spit. He took a bite, letting the savory juice run down his chin into the scruff that'd begun to grow. What did I agree to? He kicked dirt over the glimmering coals, picked up the remaining carcass, and began to take dinner to the waiting members of the Raven's Fist. What did I agree to?
By the time the first rays of sunlight stuck his eyelids, Ascanor had ascended into a light sleep from a deeper one. He slept light enough the early morning noises permeated his dreams, but slept hard enough he was still able to dream at all. At one point voices slipped their way into the swirling mist of his subconscious, and though he heard them, he paid no attention until a light hand brushed against his arm. His eyes opened, gaze meeting with the worried face of Sharyas, who blossomed into a wide grin when he woke. "I didn't know if you'd make it through the night."
Ascanor sat up and stretched. "Still here." He sniffed the air, smiling giddily at the rich smells of meat. "Something smells good." He doubled over as the smells brought upon the sharp hunger pains of the night before. "Wouldn't be ready by any chance, would it?"
Alandil chuckled. "Actually it's been ready for several hours. Ereven got back a while ago with quite the specimen of deer. His venison rivals that of a master guildsman."
Ereven took a swig from a mug. "Ah it's nothing special, really."
Sharyas tossed the tiefling a small slab on a plate, which he wolfed down, much to her amusement. The meat had a stringy toughness and sharp twang in the flavor common in wild game. It wasn't his tongue's favorite taste, and it settled in his stomach like a lump of metal, but it couldn't have been a better meal. He reached into his backpack, pulling out the rest of the hardtack bread he'd brought into the forest. He reached into the bread and pulled out the gooey flesh, replacing it with the rest of his meat. Sharyas watched with animal-like curiosity. He held out the bread. "It's an old military technique I read of in a book." He let her take a bite.
She nodded. "It'sh very good."
A flask soared over the fire to land at Ascanor's feet. He looked at Ereven. "What's this?"
The warrior had fixed Ascanor with an icy stare. "You want to be a part of our group? Drink it."
"Ereven." Alandil warned.
"Relax, I didn't poison it."
"No it's fine." Ascanor picked up the cool metal. "I'll do it." He unscrewed the cap, sniffing the contents. His nose retreated. The contents smelled something they gave him when he had the coughs. He rose the flask to his lips and took a small swig. He expected brandy, and couldn't tell the contents as he rolled them on his tongue. It had a sharp taste, like a mulled wine his father once served at a party. He shrugged, swallowing it. As the liquor touched the beginning of his throat, Ascanor almost gagged up the contents. The booze felt as if it'd been on ice for hours as it slid painfully slow down his throat, chilling as it went. Ascanor doubled over, his body racking in coughs as Ereven roared in laughter from across the camp.
Ascanor cleared his throat. "What was that?"
"I see you can't handle your frostwine, tiefling."
Ascanor stared at the flask in horror. "That's what you constantly drink? How can you do that?"
"It takes time. Go ahead, take another drink."
Ascanor took another swig. Though it still drove his spine into gooseflesh, he managed to down it without coughing. He nodded, tossing the flask back to Ereven, who finished the flask in three gulps. "Ahh, see what I mean?"
"So does this mean we're good."
He laughed again. "I was just messing with you."
Ascanor shook his head. "Maybe you ought to come home with me. We've got quite the wine cellar. An entire wall of our dining room is a liquor cabinet."
Ereven rubbed his hands together, which in gauntlets came out as a metallic rasp. "I wish I had wealth."
Sharyas slipped up next to Ascanor. "Do you think we could start with those magic lessons?"
"Well, what would you like to know?"
"Well I've tried a lot, but the only spell I've managed to even make work is this." She waved her hand over a small patch of earth, causing it to ripple. "And you've seen how good I am with that." She hinted to both the yuan-ti and aboleth incidents.
Ascanor's hand had moved to caress his chin in thought. He stared absently between Sharyas and the ground. "Hmm, could you try making fire?"
She frowned, but spun together a ball of fox-fire.
"I see the problem now. You see, magic is made of two parts, energy from the world and energy from the user. When you manipulate the earth, you're taking the energy from the world, but not infusing it with your own. However, you do the opposite with your fire. Try working the earth again, this time, open yourself up."
She sighed, closing her eyes. The earth began to ripple and a small shape began to form. A tiny, earthen fox leapt out of the ground, snaking its way up Ascanor's boot to scrutinize him with beady pebble eyes before crumbling back into the ground. Sharyas released her breath, reopening her eyes. "I did it!"
Ascanor patted her shoulder. "Nicely done."
Ereven got up and stretched. "It's time we got moving. We've got to get back to our buyer before he retracts his cash."
"How exactly are you getting paid for this?"
"We have to bring proof."
Ascanor was reluctant to ask a next question. "How?"
"Well..." Ereven held out a small, orange object.
"My gods." The warrior had an infernal corrupted egg of the hydra. "What if that thing hatches on us?"
"Relax. I put it at the edge of the camp last night. It should be long cold and dead by now. Besides, it'd be so tiny I could take off all its heads at once."
Ascanor cringed. "Okay...I guess that's a good enough reason." He shuddered. "I've got to go take care of some business. You guys can set off, I'll catch up."
Once Ascanor had finished taking care of nature's call, he turned around to hurry back to camp. His heart nearly stopped as Sharyas jumped from the brush. "Sharyas." He gasped. "You weren't here the whole time were you?"
"Believe me, you'd have to go much, much farther than this if you don't want me hearing."
"That sounds...traumatizing."
She nodded.
"What uh...what do you need?"
Her eyes darted around as if she expected someone eavesdropping. "I've been thinking...about what you said back in the temple."
He knew when. "What do you think?"
She sat down against a tree and gestured next to herself. Ascanor squat down next to her. "Well, if this is going to work, then I can't hold secrets from you."
Sharyas frolicked through the courtyard her father had planted over a century ago. What had begun as seeds had since blossomed into a living bouquet of flowers and rich fruit that bloomed even in the heat of the summer. She crouched in a small bush, her nose twitching with every change in scent. Her tail bristled as something streaked past her to a flower. She watched as a swallowtail butterfly drifted lazily from flower to flower, flexing its wings slowly as it sat in the bell-shaped tulips. Sharyas watched the creature, more so, the small pinprick of light of the insect's soul. She raised pressure onto her haunches, ready to pounce.
The door to the courtyard slid open. "Sharyas?" Her mother called out. "Are you out here?"
Sharyas poked her head out over the broad leaves. "Yes, mother?"
"Your father would like to see you on the balcony."
"Yes, ma'am." Sharyas leapt out of the bushes and brushed off her gown, staring back jealously at the butterfly's slow, almost taunting beats of its wings. Sharyas followed her mother through the paper sliding door. The courtyard stood off to the side of the castle, so as to not obstruct the massive spiral staircase that created the main artery for traffic. She began the climb up to the fifth floor, her parent's chambers. She opened the door and slipped in quietly.
Her parents spared no expense with furnishing their private apartment. A long, plush bed dominated most of the wall to her left, while a small sitting room, bathroom, and small area where food and the finest wine in the castle were kept, with access to the servants' staircase that led directly to the kitchen, on her right. Directly ahead, the door to the balcony stood aside, her father in view leaning casually against the rail with his back to her. Their stronghold boasted the greatest view of the Spine of the World among any of their kind.
She walked up to the threshold before kneeling. "Father."
He shifted, but didn't turn around. "Ah, come here, my daughter." She joined him at the rail. "Do you know what this day is?"
"It is the day of my birth, Father."
"Your one-hundredth day of birth." A smile creased his weathered face. "My daughter is growing up." She giggled as he took her in his arms. He pointed out to the horizon, where the beginnings of green held on desperately as if the world ended beyond them. "Out there my daughter will come into her second age of power. Are you ready?"
"You have trained me well, Father."
He set her down and clapped her softly on the back. "Then we shall hunt at midnight. The moon is full, it is a good omen. A good day for my daughter. That is all, you may run along now."
She knelt again before setting back off for the staircase. Though midnight was still half a day away, her heart had already begun to race.
When the gates slid open beneath the soft white glow of the full moon, ten foxes slipped out into the night. They ran across a narrow track between lines of boulders that towered above their head. The track ran around the curves of the mountains, slowly declining down to their bases as it turned into a slick, gravel path. Before the end of the hour, trees had stretched above their heads. Sharyas smelled the air, adrenaline running through her at the vast array of animals to be taken.
"Stay focused." Her father said, as if he could read her mind. He was right, this was not their destination yet.
They began up a steep slope, Sharyas' paws skipping through the leaves before they could give way beneath her. As they crested the hill, the warm glow of lanterns winking at a distance in the bottom of a bowl-shaped valley beneath them. They moved down into the valley and disappeared between the whitewashed walls. Silently, they gathered in an alley behind a rowdy inn. Sharyas' nose wrinkled at the refuse scattering the cobbles, and the acrid mix of alcohol and sweat that followed every drunkard infested bar. They shifted into human form.
Her father pointed to the back door. "We'll go in first. You wait for the signal."
She nodded, dropping herself onto the short step below the door. As quietly as they arrived, the kitsunes entered the inn. Sharyas swung her legs back and forth. This was so exciting! There were so many smells she'd never smelled before. Humans were so fascinating. Her head snapped to the side as a muffled yelp drifted through the glowering panes of the windows followed by a quickly silenced shout. She winced as sounds of combat ensued, but they were quick to end. Moments after, her father opened the door and nodded her in.
She followed closely on the heels of her father as they passed through the back of the common room. Two of her father's men descended the stairs that led to the rooms, laughing almost drunkenly between each other. The rest of his men sat around the common room, hands on their stomachs and a dazed smile as if they'd just eaten. Sharyas peeked past her father. The common room's floor had been covered with bodies, but not a spatter of blood had been shed. Some men had remained slumped over in their seats as if they'd had too much booze. But Sharyas knew the truth, the lights of their soul had gone dark forever.
Her father stopped her. "This one is yours." He gestured to a small boy one of their men hauled over by his arm. The kitsune dropped the boy on the ground. He'd been crying, but the tears had dried up. The boy's eyes rolled wildly around the room. "Mommy? Where...where's my mommy?"
Sharyas look up questioningly. "Father? I don't understand."
"You're going to take the soul of this human."
"What?"
"Don't you want your power? Take his soul."
Tears welled up at the repeated cries of the boy."But Father I-"
"Do it!" She winced at this sudden outburst of her normally tranquil father. She choked down saliva and nodded. Her eyes moved down and met the panicked boy's. She stared past his chest, into his heart where the flicking light of his soul rested. She stifled a sob, but one still managed its way through. She closed her eyes and opened herself up, drawing the small light into herself. When she opened her eyes, the boy had stopped squirming and his eyes had gone gray. She felt the soul of the boy bounce around inside her, but she kept herself shut. It had already begun.
She felt the fur on her tail bristle as the tip began to split. She cried as power surged into her and her second tail. Though he had passed, she could still hear the cries of "Mommy?" the boy gave off, as if a part of him lived on inside her. Finally, her tails finished splitting, and another burnished brush waved behind her. As quick as she could she opened up her soul, and the remainder of the boy shot from her like a bolt of lightning, violently striking the boy in the chest. He double over as he took a harsh, ragged breath. Sharyas sighed in relief as the boy got to his feet and shot out the door of the tavern, however short it lasted.
Her father knelt in front of her, his eyes ablaze. "What have you done?"
She puffed out her chest. "He didn't have to die for me." She grabbed her tails. "I have what I came for Father."
She cried out as he struck her across the face. "Don't you realize what you've done? You've destroyed everything I've built over the past centuries! You fool, that boy has gone for help!"
"Then he deserves it!" She stepped back, but the words had already slipped out.
"Is that what you truly think?"
She grit her teeth. "Yes."
"Then I have no daughter."
"What? Father you can't mean that!"
"I have no daughter."
"I can go get him! I'll take his soul, all of it! I promise. Father, please!"
He gestured to his men. "Get rid of her."
The kitsune took Sharyas' body and tossed her carelessly into the forest. Dogs bayed behind them, startling them into fox form. Like they'd never been, they disappeared into the forest to meet up with the rest of the group. Sharyas pulled up onto her elbows, her hair hanging over her battered, bloodied face. Blood and tears alike dropped to mingle in the dirt beneath her.
"Father!" she wailed. "Please, come back. I'm sorry!" She shifted form and crawled off into the night before the howling beasts could tear her to shreds. She limped, her front left paw had bent at an awkward angle when her father's men pulled her through the door frame of the inn, as she slowly scaled a tree to rest for the night. She curled up, tucking her snout in, muttering "I'm sorry" over and over until the pain pulled sleep over her.
Sharyas cried into Ascanor's arm. "I haven't tasted a human soul in almost a century. But I can feel it, stronger so with every day. I've tried almost every animal this side of the Spine but nothing ever works. My father had right to try and kill me." She grasped her tails, clenching them until her knuckles turned white. "If only cutting these things off would take it all away. I'd do it in a heartbeat. Gods, how could I be so foolish? What happens when the temptation becomes too much? What if you're in the way when it does?"
Ascanor cradled her, resting his head on top of hers. "Then I'll die the happiest man in Faerun."
She sniffed. "How could you possibly do that?"
"I'll be with the woman I love."
She met his eyes. "Ascanor..." Her eyes closed, her head diving for his.
Before Ascanor could say another word, he had discovered his first taste of a woman's lips. He grasped her and pulled her close, reveling in the ecstasy hidden within her kiss.
