General disclaimer: I own nothing, even Maiyn generally decides her own path.

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Wanderings

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The carnage around them was amplified by the stench of blood that was lingering in the pool, stagnant and repulsive -- an affront to everything Ajantis held in regard. He was not happy to stay overly long in such a place, though part of his mind was put to rest as more knights began to arrive, armed to the brim with flasks of holy water and plenty of finely crafted stakes. By dawn, the place would be well on its way to being wiped completely of its dark habitants, though it would take much longer for the full essence of evil to be removed.

His eyes drifted over to the still unconscious Maiyn at that thought. Her presence troubled him more than he wanted to admit, especially now he'd heard of what she could become -- and how Carsomyr had seen her. He'd not knowingly struck the elf -- he was sure he'd targeted Bodhi, though it was hazy in his memory... the pull of the sword towards the essence of malevolence had been strong. He couldn't swear in Helm's name that he had not deliberately harmed the form of the slayer.

Anomen was still tending her carefully -- his expression had changed from concentration, to a slight frown. He'd seemed to hesitate at one point, then beckoned the druidess over, discussing something in a hushed tone. She hadn't been able to keep the surprise from her face, nodding an acknowledgement, then moving away when Maiyn's sister had called to her. Ajantis had been worried, then -- worried he'd done some permanent damage; but Anomen had looked up to him, noted his expression, it seemed. The priest had shaken his head, offered a genuine smile, and returned to his entreaties.

Then the sister had left them, in the company of her warrior guardian and a handful of knights, armed with stakes as they sought out the coffins of the undead. The black-haired girl leading the rogues had finished removing all the traps from the various chests and boxes they could see in the small ante-chambers adjacent to the room, and the druid began to busy herself with looking through them, amassing the contents in a pile near the centre of the chamber. When the necromancer finally came around, he made his way to this treasure -- and Ajantis watched him carefully, slightly distrustful of the errant mage.

But all Xzar did was to browse the books and scrolls, pocketing a few of the latter, and growing in excitement over some of the former. "It's here!" he'd shrieked with delight, waving a large, dusty, green-bound book at anyone who would look over. Very few did, except for Coran and Nalia, who seemed to be surprised by his sudden appearance. Ajantis assumed they hadn't seen him lying on the floor.

The other mage, the one in purple, had vanished -- some of the knights assured him that he was outside, sitting by the crypt entrance, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. The paladin felt some sympathy for him -- he'd lost his comrade, fought a hard battle, and seen his leader lose control and become quite badly injured. It hadn't been easy for any of them; the knight had witnessed many of his own men -- friends -- falling in the battle; their bodies lying with those of the thieves who had also fallen victim to the combat. Two organisations who held nothing but contempt for each other, standing and fighting against a common enemy, and now sharing their grief as they worked together to ensure the bodies of their comrades were not left behind in the tomb.

He walked over to Coran quickly, placing his hand on the elf's shoulder. Two piercing eyes looked up to him from a solemn face and he sighed quietly, trying to offer a reassuring smile before he walked away towards the tunnel leading outside. The girl, Lady Nalia, was at their friend's side, holding his hand supportively. It was not the first time she'd been there, concerned for him, loyal and steadfast, and so he knew he was in good hands. There were others that did not have the same being said about them and Ajantis decided that it was his duty to try and provide comfort where it was absent.

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"Montaron!" Xzar howled at the sight of the halfling's battered corpse, and it took two of the knights to step in to restrain him as he lunged towards his fallen comrade. Within seconds, Jaheira had appeared, scowling darkly at the necromancer and the book he held tightly in his grasp.

"Enough, mage," she snapped warningly. "There will be time to... see to him, when all else has been done here. Do not disturb the work we need to do."

Instantly he seemed to recover from his grief, staring at the half-elf coldly for a long time. "Yes," he finally agreed. "Yes, we shall indeed see to him." He waved the tome at her, wrestling himself free from the knights, and wandered over to a stone slab in the corner, where he could keep a careful eye on the halfling's body as he opened his new possession, flicking through the pages studiously.

Jaheira just seemed to sigh with weariness, a hand going up to her head as she closed her eyes. Coran squeezed Nalia's hand quickly, then stood up, making his way over to the woman he'd adventured with for many weeks before their separation. Hesitantly, he reached out to touch her arm, and she snapped back into reality, flinching away from his gentle touch. When she realised it was him, she offered a weak smile and an apology.

He shook his head, knowing what he had to say before anything else could be discussed. "I... I'm sorry that Khalid..." He sighed -- perhaps he should have asked Nalia for the ring back before trying this. To his surprise, Jaheira's smile became a little wider, her green eyes softer.

"Thank you," she said, with genuine warmth. "I am... I am sorry too, but the time for grieving has past. Now I will honour him, with all that I do, and see that true justice is taken for him."

Coran nodded in what he hoped was an encouraging manner -- he was still far to used to the half-elf being the disapproving motherly figure of Maiyn's, who believed he could do nothing right for the elven girl. To have her being so... nice to him, especially considering all that had transpired in his absence, was quite surprising; almost reassuring. "How... how have the past few months been?" he asked, immediately kicking himself for his sudden stupidity in his questions. The druid gave him a wry look.

"If I said peaceful, I would be lying," she said. Coran grinned, but noticed as she threw a worried look over to Maiyn and her healer, before quickly composing herself. He frowned slightly at the glance -- the healer was the one who had gone to Spellhold with them, had he not? When... when he'd learnt she'd moved on. And now, he was by her side, tending to her, when there must be other healers around! And the hushed discussion he'd had with the druid when he was channelling his healing...

Coran turned and gave Anomen a suspicious look, but the cleric was paying no attention to him. His focus was still on his patient, his hands glowing with an eerie white glow as Helm heard his prayers. Coran was pulled from his mistrust by Jaheira's gentle nudge and he looked back to her, trying to appear indifferent to everything. She sighed heavily.

"We may be waiting some time for Anomen to finish, and Minsc and Imoen to return. Sit by me -- I will tell you, briefly, all I can about what has happened since we left Baldur's Gate."

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The tunnel was musty and dark, lit only by the flickering torches held by the knights, which spluttered and flickered in the oxygen-starved depths. Imoen stayed as close to Minsc as she could -- one of the paladins was behind her, which helped her to feel a little less insecure, but it was the presence of the berserker that really settled her nerves as they emerged into a large chamber, filled with coffins. Many were aligned around the outer wall, located closely together with hardly any of the stonework visible. Several others were atop stone slabs, set in rows to run the length of the chamber; fewer, still, were located on elaborate plinths, four carved pillars of rock guarding each corner. In the centre of them was the largest of the caskets -- a formidable sight for the young thief, as she instinctively knew who lay within it.

The knights grabbed some supplies, moving further in to begin the process of cleansing as Imoen watched by Minsc's side. The Rashemi stood by her side for several minutes, then slowly picked up a stake and pushed it gently into her hands.

"Little Imoen knows what she must do," he said quietly. She nodded, taking a deep breath, and slowly moved forward, making her way between the many open coffins between her and her target.

Minsc followed her with stakes of his own, driving them into each creature they passed with unsurpassed force. She jumped at the sound of each hammer, but forced herself to progress, ignoring the glazed eyes of the hibernating vampires. Her eyes were trained on the ornate resting place of the creature who had stolen her soul, her steps slowly guiding her closer and closer, until she arrived at the bottom of the three steps leading up to it... and stopped.

A large hand found her own, and Minsc smiled down to her as he strode up, pulling her gently in his wake. He coaxed her to the side of the coffin, releasing her hand but standing so close that she was almost leaning on him as she looked down on the body of the sister of her former captor.

Bodhi's eyes were staring straight up at the shrouded ceiling, her form even paler than it had been in the battle. The wounds that had been inflicted upon her were already showing signs of healing due to her regeneration powers, but her clothing betrayed the true beating she'd taken at the hands of both Maiyn, and then the paladin's sword. The young human girl swallowed hard, her hand trembling as she tried to lift the wooden object high into the air.

"Minsc and Boo think you should do this," came the warrior's soft voice. "It is only right that little Imoen finishes off the evil vampire who evilly stole her soul; but Minsc and Boo are here to help if little Imoen finds herself struggling."

She smiled slightly and managed to shuffle a bit nearer to the coffin. She rose onto her tiptoes and placed the stake on Bodhi's chest, moving it around until Minsc nodded grimly. Then she accepted the hammer he handed her frowning slightly as she worked out the logistics of getting a solid enough strike when the edge of the casket rose up to her shoulders.

In one fluid movement, Minsc swept her up in his arm, holding her closer to the creature than she'd been able to manage herself, but also higher than she had been -- providing her with an ample opportunity to bring down her weapon on the creature, and reclaim her soul.

Slowly, dangling in the air as she was, she raised the hammer with both hands and bit her lip with concentration. As it reached its highest peak, just before she was about to bring it down, Bodhi's eyes flickered over to her and the vampire let out a shrill hiss. Imoen screamed, her instinct taking advantage of her surprise and her arms crashing down, weapon in hands, driving the stake firmly into the vampire's breast.

Minsc gently set her down, freeing her from the mallet and putting his large arms around her form as she sobbed and trembled for a few seconds. Then, to her surprise, he gently pushed her away with a smile on his face. She looked at him with puzzlement, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand -- then she noticed it.

A wisp of lilac mist was floating from the coffin towards her, and, as it made contact, it seemed to rush into her being. The coldness she'd felt was lifted, her sadness and anger seemed satiated as the memories, the warmth of her love and the base of her personality was restored. She began to laugh; weakly at first, then louder, holding onto Minsc for support as she embraced her soul, the berserker beaming down on her with delight.

"Let us go back and tell the others that little Imoen is complete again," he said. "Just like Minsc has his Boo, little Imoen has her soul back! Beware evil, oh yes!"

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Ajantis shivered slightly as the night air met him -- the crypts had not been entirely warm, but they had protected him from the chilly breeze that was whipping its way past the tombstones under the clear, starry sky that night. There was no one beside the lair's entrance -- the dead elf's body had been taken back to the Order before arrangements were made for his funeral, and the men who had been posted there had gone with it. There was no sign of the enchanter, either, which worried Ajantis slightly and caused him to take a small walk further into the graveyard.

He hadn't gone far when he witnessed a strange sight indeed. The elven mage was, as reported, sitting alone, on a slab of rock slightly away from the crypt entrance. But he was not completely alone... a shimmering image was beside him, seemingly talking to him. The paladin moved forward as quietly as he could, straining his ears to listen.

"I wanted to say thank you to him," the apparition of the halfling boy sniffed. "I can't stay too long, because I can move on now, to sit beside Yondalla in the heavens."

Xan nodded to him dourly. "At least life can hurt you no more, child. But... you will not be able to thank the man who helped you. Or the girl, for that matter."

The ghost seemed to frown. "Why not? Don't they want to see me?"

Xan sighed, almost sympathetically. "It is not that. I am sure that if they could, they'd be here, to give you their warmest smiles and most encouraging words -- both of which I seem to be sorely incapable of. But since you asked... the man lies dead, now, and the girl... the girl has many injuries to be tended." The elf looked up, gazing at the halfling's saddened look. "I will pass on your regards," the enchanter offered awkwardly.

"Th-thank you," stuttered the sniffling ghost as he faded from existence. "They... they were so nice to help me, like that."

"As usual," Xan sighed, burying his head in his hands. Ajantis pondered the scene for a moment, then continued forward, approaching the purple-clad man and sitting beside him. When Xan looked up to him, he offered a concerned smile and he was met, in return, with a sigh.

"I can understand your need to have some time," said Ajantis quietly. "But there could still be dangers nearby -- from bandits, if nothing else. It is unwise to sit out here alone."

"I don't need a guard," replied the mage dismissively.

"I'm not here to be a guard," Ajantis continued kindly. "More as a friend."

Xan gave him a strange look, but he seemed to be too tired to argue, shrugging in defeat and lapsing back into silence. The paladin watched him for a few moments.

"I saw many friends fall tonight. I... I can understand how you are feeling."

"I don't think you can," Xan said stiffly. "Human friendships are different from those experienced amongst elves."

Ajantis raised an eyebrow. "Oh, come now -- there may be differences, but you're not telling me that my own losses are less significant than yours, are you?"

The mage said nothing, but stood up and began to walk away, back towards the crypt. Ajantis rose, and followed with a frown.

"I came here to offer you sympathy, because I didn't think anyone should be alone after such a time," the paladin said calmly. "To have you suggest that somehow the friendships I have, as a human, are somehow... inferior to whatever you have as an elf... it's... well, it's frightfully rude!"

The enchanter sighed. "My apologies," he offered, leaning against the wall of a nearby tomb, his eyes looking up to the skies.

Ajantis' manner softened. "It is only the stress," he said understandingly. "Would you like me to arrange some men to go with you, to the Order? Or back to your inn, if you'd prefer?"

"No... no, thank you," replied Xan at length, his eyes drifting towards the entrance to the lair. He seemed to swallow hard. "How is... how is Maiyn?"

"Anomen was tending to her. She is in good hands, and he seems to think she'll recover well enough, in her own time." The knight paused. "The... what she... became. Does it happen... well, often?"

Xan smiled wryly. "You mean, does she have a habit of taking the form of her dead sire's avatar? No... not often. It comes down to her control, I think -- which has been... slipping, recently."

Ajantis nodded, his brow furrowed. "I will have to inform the Order," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. Xan threw him a curious glance.

"Ah, and before that, you will lead us there to the body of our fallen comrade -- to get Maiyn conveniently into the hands of young amassed comrades, all baying for the blood of the tainted, hmm?

The paladin frowned. "No... no, it is not like that at all!"

Xan shrugged. "Delude yourself if you wish," he replied gloomily, returning back to the darkness of the tunnel as he headed back to the others. "I'm sure it's not how she will see it."

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Coran saw Xan returning as Jaheira finished her recount. The enchanter stalked into one of the corners, sitting alone morosely as he tried to huddle into as small a place as possible. Ajantis appeared soon after, immediately settling beside Nalia, his concerned expression betraying his worry over her slight isolation amongst old friends.

He was nodding, acknowledging the druid's words. She had explained their departure from the Duchal Palace, their chase of Maiyn after reading her letter to them. Then she'd gone over their capture, describing their escape from the dungeon where Irenicus had captured them, and Imoen's subsequent arrest; their reunion with Xan and Kivan, and their meetings with Yoshimo and Anomen as they occurred. He had listened as she described the tasks they'd taken to earn the coin to reach Spellhold, their betrayal by the Kara-Tuan and their journey through the Underdark. Not once did she mention any word of Maiyn having moved on with regards to her relationships, and he sighed, beginning to wonder if he'd imagined everything.

She excused herself from him, moving over to Xan to check he was all right, and Coran nodded distractedly. He was still watching Anomen -- the thought of Maiyn's tryst unwilling to leave his mind, and the young priest was so very careful with her -- so gentle and worried and attentive to his former lover. It had to be him... it just had to be -- everything seemed to suggest it.

A faint scream came from further into the lair, causing many of them to jump in surprise. Xzar did nothing, except to look up briefly from his reading, while Sime and some of her thieves went off to investigate what had happened. A long time seemed to pass, with Coran obsessively studying Anomen -- comparing himself to the young human as much as he could -- before the priest finally broke off his concentration, wearily standing up and stepping back from the young girl's body. Coran was about to stand up himself, to go over and move in to what should have been his rightful place, when there was a sound of running footsteps. Imoen barrelled into the room, a large smile on her face; she flew into the arms of the knight, causing him to reflect her delight in his own expression as he wrapped his arms around her tightly, gently stroking her hair and listening as she excitedly told him about the returning of her soul.

Coran watched with surprise -- his mind immediately went into overdrive. If the priest was… well, busy elsewhere, it had to have been the other thief -- the Kara-Tuan! What was his name… Yoshimo! The one who had betrayed them! Suddenly he felt some hope -- if it was him, then he was firmly out of the picture -- she would be hurt to have been betrayed so badly by someone she'd allowed so close to her; but he was back, now; her Coran, the one she'd always turned to before during the dark nights of the Gate. It might take time, but things would be repaired... things could be solved, with some talking and effort.

His heart was much lighter as he stood up, carefully making his way over to her side, stroking her hair away from her face. Despite her dishevelled state, despite the blood and gore around her... she was beautiful to him. He would be there for her to waken up to, and everything would be all right once more. He was sure of it.

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Xan watched Coran sit beside Maiyn, gently holding her hand in his, murmuring soft words in elvish that the enchanter couldn't quite make out. He could feel Jaheira watching him, but he tried to ignore it -- her eyes were full of sorrow and concern... and pity. It was the pity he found hardest to deal with, and when her hand reached out to take his, he wanted to snatch his away. But he didn't -- he allowed her to give him a gentle squeeze, continuing to watch the one-sided reunion with a heavy heart and a detached feeling.

"You... you are sure?" he asked.

"Yes." Her voice carried nothing but certainty. "Anomen is a skilled healer, and he... he can feel it; less so than I would, possibly, but he says it is definitely there."

"And it is unharmed?"

"It seems to be fine."

Xan nodded unhappily. "I... I need time," he said, unsure how to continue. The half-elf seemed to understand.

"I will be here," she said quietly, moving away from him and going off to check on Imoen.. He sighed heavily, unable to fully accept all she'd told him... unable to really grasp everything that had happened that evening. He'd lost what he considered a good friend -- this was important to him, as he'd never really thought he had friends until he'd settled into Maiyn's band, and other than their leader, Kivan had been the only other figure who Xan would have felt comfortable turning to.

But now he had neither of them, any more. With Coran's re-emergence, her attention would be piled firmly upon him, as their love was rediscovered, their happiness re-instated. But then she'd have to be told as well, wouldn't she? Either Jaheira or Anomen would have to tell her... and what was to stop the priest from telling Imoen? And if Imoen knew...

He groaned and held his head in his hands. He tried to work out where it all went wrong, when it all became so complicated. His plans to leave the group before they met Coran had been ruined -- his plans to leave, in general, were now in immense doubt -- for after all... how could a father leave his unborn child?

He was only startled from his melancholy by Coran's voice.

"Maiyn? Jaheira -- she's awake!"