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

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Inner Conflicts

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If there was one thing Minsc knew he could always rely on, it was Boo's wisdom. Given how things had become so difficult recently for the berserker's friends, he found the advice handed to him by his hamster to be comforting and supportive; but also it led to more unanswered questions. Boo could not tell Minsc everything he wanted to know, only what the situation appeared to entail, filling in Minsc with the small details he'd missed while he was righteously kicking the butts of evil. Minsc was glad, though -- it means that very little actually ever escaped his attention, and Boo never had any reason to lie to him.

But now it was time to try and get some answers for the other questions; or at least, make them known to the correct person so that she was aware of what people were thinking around her. Minsc wasn't completely certain what this would achieve, but Boo seemed to think it was very important and the Rashemeni wasn't going to argue with the rodent's unyielding wisdom.

They'd been riding for a few hours in silence after managing to purchase some horses from one of Athkatla's many markets as they exited the city. Strange Xzar had been less than enthusiastic about the prospect of riding so far, but both the rangers had worked together to change his mind by pointing out how much time they'd save in getting there. In the end the necromancer had relented, accepting a small pony as his mount. This had meant that their progress wasn't as fast as it would have been had he chosen a swifter steed, but it was still easily beating going on foot.

Verya had met them only minutes after they passed through the city gates, but received only the slightest welcome from little Maiyn, which had served to cause him further worry over her current state of mind. Kind and gentle as he was amongst friends, Minsc usually knew how the others around him were feeling -- even if sometimes he was informed by Boo's quiet squeaks -- and so he would try and work out how best to act to cheer them up or bring them from their melancholy.

Boo had told him that this was not normal sadness and even he didn't know what Minsc should do to brighten little Maiyn's mood except to try talking to her. Now seemed like as good a time as any, as the strange mage was lagging slightly behind and would be unable to overhear them easily. Minsc wasn't entirely comfortable with his presence, though he understood Maiyn's reasons for helping him and the little halfling; he remembered tiny Montaron offering him the maces that had led to the Minsc finishing evil Sarevok before he could hurt any of Minsc's friends any more. This was enough to satisfy the berserker, and so he cleared his throat slightly, noticing little Maiyn turn to give him an inquisitive look.

"Minsc and Boo miss little Imoen," he said sadly and truthfully. "It seems like we only just found her, to be split from her again twice since."

Maiyn nodded to him. "Anomen will look after her, and I'm sure Ajantis will make sure she reaches him okay."

"Boo says you are right, but it does not stop Minsc from worrying. After losing Dynaheir, Minsc and Boo do not think we could survive losing another witch."

She was looking at him sorrowfully. "I know Minsc, I know... So many have been taken from us. So many... and I miss them so much."

He reached over from his horse, gently squeezing her shoulder as they rode side by side. "Minsc understands. It has not been easy on any of us. But there have been good things happening, as well as sad, and Minsc is sure that glorious Dynaheir would urge us to focus on them rather than continually mourn the lost."

"Dynaheir was very wise," smiled Maiyn. "Her calmness was a great loss."

"Colourful Coran used to be able to make little Maiyn calm as well," noted Minsc. "And happy. But little Maiyn didn't seem to be happy to see him back with us." He looked over to the elven girl. Boo was chirping slightly on his shoulder, telling him that she was strangely tense. Even the hamster seemed to be confused by her actions. "Minsc thinks it is a shame that he left again so soon. Although a lot of time has passed, he was our friend, and Minsc and Boo think friends should stick together."

"Sometimes people have to go their separate ways," she replied quietly. "Jaheira and Xan... they had to go away too, didn't they? People... they drift away from each other. It happens."

He sighed sadly. "Does little Maiyn think she has drifted away from so many of her friends? Minsc does not think that little Jaheira and gloomy Xan would agree, even if they have taken another route."

She shrugged. "I don't know, Minsc. I really don't know."

"Little Maiyn has not been herself for some time." Boo had urged him to just speak the truth, and he did. He patiently awaited a response through the minutes of silence that followed.

"I haven't, have I?" Her voice was low and soft; her eyes -- still glowing golden with an unnatural ferocity -- seemed faraway. "Since... since we met with Irenicus, I have felt... different."

"Minsc understands what happened to you," he said solemnly. "Little Jaheira explained it, and so Minsc and Boo were relieved when little Imoen drove the stake into the evil vampiress' chest." He paused and looked at her with a slight frown. "Minsc and Boo are now worried that you will continue to suffer while you do not pursue the evil wizard."

"It's complicated," she began.

"It is?" he interrupted. "Minsc does not see how; the evil wizard captured us, killed your friends and has now taken your soul. He is also endangering a whole city of innocent people -- endangering was Boo's word."

"I can't just leave Montaron."

The berserker nodded. "But what about afterwards? What does little Maiyn intend to do then?"

"Then..." she sighed. "Then I hope we can meet Imoen and Anomen, somehow, and travel south to meet Jaheira and Xan again. Then... then everything will be resolved, somehow." Her voice had taken back its usual determined sound, though it was still hollow and colder than Minsc was used to. For now her words appeased him -- he would press other issues later, when they stopped to rest. He had much to discuss with Boo in the meanwhile.

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The inn in Imnesvale was quiet that evening, with most of the locals absent due to the stormy weather. Since many lived out in the hills themselves, they'd forsaken their nightly trip to the tavern to stay at home in comfortable warmth. Maiyn couldn't blame them one bit -- it had started to rain when they were still an hour away from the village and they were drenched to the bone by the time they arrived, the torrential downpour soaking through even the snuggest armour. Verya had slunk off, almost sulkily, upon learning they were to spend the night indoors, and Maiyn seemed unable to appease her. She'd tried to apologise for being distant before the cat disappeared into the shadows, but Verya showed no sign of hearing her at all.

Warm baths had been provided for them and Xzar had immediately flounced off to partake, leaving Minsc to deal with the horses while Maiyn arranged rooms for them all. They could easily afford a room each, and she didn't feel that it was worth making Minsc share with Xzar when it was not necessary. She wasn't overly keen on the idea of being alone, but... well, Imoen and Anomen could still turn up, if they had fast horses and hadn't been held up for too long. She might not have to be on her own.

When the necromancer finished his bathing, she trundled through, taking her turn before Minsc finished helping the stableboy. Things had been... quiet, inside, since they left the city. She wasn't sure what her... what the voice thought of her current course; for some reason, it was being carefully guarded with its opinion on the matter, but she knew it was still there, watching with interest as she pushed herself further and further from her friends. It was probably enjoying it -- it already thought they weakened her, after all, so seeing her driving them away would only serve to play into its hands.

Was that what she'd been doing? Or was it just coincidence? She wanted to help Montaron, she had to... she couldn't forget what he'd done for them, despite his own reasons -- and neither could Minsc, it seemed. She was glad the berserker was with her; he understood. The others... they'd forgive her, she hoped. And she wouldn't be long -- she'd be back with them soon enough.

Why? Why do you waste your time on such fruitless associations?

She sighed heavily, letting herself slump into the hot water, trying to ignore the questioning -- the questing sensation going into her mind. It didn't ask again, but it was there; waiting for her answer, making itself known more than before. It would continue to do this until it got an answer, she knew -- driving her mad with its presence until she submitted to its whims and conversed with it.

They are my friends.

Even her thoughts felt weary; tired of having to explain the point over and over again to a presence that simply had no grasp of the concept. It laughed.

You are the Daughter of Murder! You do not need friends when you have power at your fingertips!

I don't want power!

You did not refuse it before! How often did you use the gift I gave you to heal the wounded that walk beside you? How many times did you accept the gift of strength that your very blood offered in the heat of battle? You accepted the power then, and you will accept it again!

She recoiled at the words, drawing herself into a tight ball. No...No, you're wrong, she thought desperately. The healing... she'd never known where the innate form came from, only that it disappeared when her soul was taken, leaving her solely with Fenmarel's blessings. She'd told herself -- deceived herself... into believing that it was Him who provided the eerie white glow that would softly envelop a wound and infuse a limited amount of curative power into it. She'd convinced herself of it, because thinking of the alternatives... they were just too frightening to consider.

If they were from you, then why do I not still have the ability to use it? she asked defiantly. There was a long silence, and the presence seemed to be absent. Perhaps it had gone; perhaps she would have rest this night, after all.

You do not need it, now -- you are worthy of far greater things. And I know you agree with me, for you have chosen to use them yourself.

That doesn't make sense...

It does not? Your soul... it does not befit your rightful status, and it would not have allowed you to become what you are now. It was tainted, filled with misguided beliefs that your weak foster-father filled you with -- the only way my essence could find a hold on you was to give you a gift that you wouldn't immediately turn away. So it gave you what you wanted.

You used and manipulated me into becoming weak enough to accept you?

Another laugh. It is not so bad, child. When your soul was taken, it left only your bare existence -- a perfect vessel for me to take hold of, for me to gift the true blessing of my attention. So, even when your soul is returned, it will not be able to stand up to the influence you carry within you. You are your father's child, now.

A feeling of horror and revulsion washed over her -- no amount of scrubbing was going to be able to remove the feeling of loathing she experienced, the realisation of how easily she'd let this…this thing into her conscience. What about Imoen?

What about her?

She is your child too, but she has never shown any sign of having 'gifts'.

She was unreceptive, from the beginning. Only now, now that she knows what she is, has there been any weakening in her resolve. With time, I will find my way into her being, too.

No! Leave her alone!

It laughed again. Are you frightened that my favour goes elsewhere? There are many of your siblings left for me to choose from, so it is a valid concern.

I don't care about that -- I just don't want you hurting her!

Hurt her? Foolish child... I have never hurt you, have I? Instead I have given you the ability to survive, the strength to face even the strongest of opponents. Surely you would not prevent your sister from having such benefits, especially when her true nature becomes known? Or... There was a thoughtful silence. Or would you? Are you so focussed on being The One, that you would encourage me to turn a blind eye to another of my own?

No! No, you're twisting my words... that's not what I meant!

No? You amuse me, child. Think on this… consider what you have said. I think you will find, in the end, that we both know the truth.

And then it was gone -- not fully, but away from her direct conscience, ignorant to all her pleading thoughts of denial at its words. So vain they were that she ended up wrapped in a blanket as she cried; trying to convince herself, more than anything else, that it was wrong -- that she was not the monster it was trying to make her into.

And that was how Minsc found her, the worried berserker taking the smaller frame of the elven girl easily into his arms as he held her and gently rocked her back and forth, soothing and calming her until her tormented cries ended, and a degree of calmness was restored.

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Xzar read the old tome again, for the last time, and nodded carefully to himself. He finished scribbling a few notes onto the parchment lying on the table before him and supped some of the wine that the innkeeper had presented. Everything was going to plan -- there was no reason to believe that things wouldn't start going right for him, soon enough.

Of course, when Montaron returned he'd lose the grip on reality that he was becoming all too fond of -- but that was a small, and hopefully limited, sacrifice to make to ensure his continued existence. The pains were beginning to grip him quite frequently now, though he was careful to show no outward signs of the effect of the Geas. Seemingly discontent with Montaron's neither living nor fully dead state, the spell was defaulting to the intention the caster had had in mind when placing it upon the necromancer and his halfling companion -- that if the two were separated, for whatever matter, and Xzar's sanity was to return, their deaths would be slow and painful.

Someone had sentenced him to a lifetime of this, worse than the worst of prisons, and he knew exactly who it was. Nieman's master, the unnamed figure he'd known only as a Master of the Zhentarim. But they would not have expected this rather strange set of circumstances to happen -- they would not expect him to be aware of what they'd done.

The thief girl had proven to be an invaluable source of information to the necromancer as they loitered in the crypts, the night they faced the vampires. She had, when persuaded by the talk of plenty coin, given him the names of several contacts for what he had in mind. Thankfully, the man, Prebek, whose home Xzar had taken as his own laboratory, had been extremely affluent, and so the mage had no second thoughts about passing the coin onto the men who had met him before they left the city. He'd had to pay them extra to persuade them to come so close to the Order's headquarters, but it would be worth it. He was certain. They now had a name of an associate, a description, and an assassination contract; and Sime had spoken highly of their ability. Whether or not they'd succeed in their mission... well, a Zhent target would not be a stroll in the woods, but it was all he'd had time for. A simple Geas -- nothing as complex as the one woven onto him -- ensured his hope, that they would succeed or die trying -- Prebek's magic license had come into use, after all.

He pondered the past few years. Montaron had stayed with him out of the utmost loyalty -- not due to care or compassion, Xzar reflected, but to the fear of what would happen should the Zhentarim discover his betrayal. And that fear had been enough to ensure that Xzar had a constant companion, even in the worst of times. His memory was hazy, but slowly he was remembering more and more of it. And more and more of Maiyn. The strange girl had been quite normal previously -- snippets of scenes flashed through his head, and he recalled vaguely a time spent with her underground. It would take weeks, if not months, to try and make sense of it all, to bring it into order and remember the full recollection; time he simply did not have. Not yet, anyway.

But he was sure of one thing -- she was the reason they were here, in this strange land. She was the power Montaron had muttered about for weeks before, but the stupid halfling had been too blind to see it. He picked up the sheaf of parchments that all bore his elegant handwriting and studied them again. He had detailed what he'd discovered about her, about her companions, and about what he could recall of Alaundo's prophecies. He could not rely on the hope that he would be able to tell Montaron any of this when he was brought back to life, so he had spent his time compiling a report for the halfling to read -- thankfully the little thief was literate, something the Zhentarim had ensured. He would put them in his pack, safe in the knowledge that his possessions would be rummaged through at the earliest opportunity.

Hopefully this would mean that Montaron ensured they stayed close to Maiyn -- and then when the Master fell and the Geas dropped, Xzar would be there -- at his full power, his full capability, to ensure this powerful example of godling was persuaded to aid the Zhentarim in their interests -- and his advancement. It would be easy... if nothing else, she'd displayed an odd concern over the halfling's condition. Xzar was sure that he would have no qualms in using that to the full extent when his own health no longer relied on Montaron's own survival.

He looked up to see the other two approaching his table, the girl leaning quite heavily on the tall human. He frowned slightly, wondering what had happened; she looked pale and tired, but not exactly as he'd expect travel fatigue to seem. As they sat down he stood up, excusing himself for an early night. It wasn't the right time to talk to her -- not when his own condition was to be compromised so soon. No, there would be time for learning and studying later, and he just had to have patience until that time came.

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Minsc sat in silence, staring at the girl across from him with no attempt to conceal the worry in his eyes. She had not spoken about the scene he'd witnessed in the backrooms and he was unsure whether or not to broach it with her now, or wait until she'd had a little more time to compose herself. Boo, also, was unsure as to how best deal with her, advising Minsc to be ready to listen if she felt the need to talk. It was looking as though that wouldn't be the case; she had even declined food and drink, preferring to sit huddled into the corner, staring blankly at the table surface.

"Boo needs to know," he said gently, leaning forward slightly as the hamster scampered from his shoulder onto the table. "What is wrong, little Maiyn? What has caused you so much distress?"

She looked up to him, her eyes slightly glazed, and offered a weak smile. "I'm okay... I just... need sleep..."

He shook his head firmly. "Minsc is not the cleverest man in these lands, but he knows not to be fooled by little Maiyn's words. Why won't little Maiyn tell Minsc and Boo what happened?"

She gave a choking laugh. "You'd think I was mad."

"Many people think Minsc is mad," he pointed out. "But little Maiyn does not agree, otherwise she'd have left Minsc and Boo behind a long time ago."

She was staring at him -- most men would have found it unnerving, but Minsc had seen many things, and faced them with a courage that was almost unnatural. All he saw, when he looked at her, was a tired, small, scared girl, who needed her friends around her.

"I hear him," she whispered. "All the time, I know he's there, and sometimes... since Irenicus took my soul, he's spoken to me. He... he twists my words. He is trying to make me into something I'm not! I'm not!" Her voice rose towards the end, and finished with a cried sob. Minsc reached out to take her hands, frowning slightly.

"Minsc does not understand who 'he' is? Boo says it is not him, and Minsc knows Verya is a girl."

"Bhaal."

"Eh... your dead sire?"

She nodded miserably.

"This is not good," he noted. "Minsc can hear Boo when others can not, but Boo is a force of righteousness and goodness! Minsc cannot imagine what it must be like to travel with an evil Boo. And one you cannot even feed seeds to."

Boo squeaked furiously, his whiskers quivering quite violently.

"Ah, Boo has asked me not to compare him to your current voice," Minsc continued meekly. "He has taken great offence to it."

Maiyn reached out to scratch the hamster's head gently, causing him to chitter in appreciation. Minsc smiled warmly at the sight. "It's nothing like Boo," she said quietly with a sigh. "It's… it's malicious and evil." Minsc saw her swallowing hard as she looked back up to him. "And... and it says that, given time, it will work on Imoen too."

The familiar sensation of fury washed over Minsc at the hint of danger to his witch; and his senses demanded that he let go, let himself accept the righteous anger that wanted to take control of him. But Boo's voice rose above it all, reminding him that there were no enemies here; only little Maiyn, who had shrunk away from him when she saw the rage filling his eyes. Immediately he fought to quell his instinct, his voice strained but fairly level. "Minsc shall not stand for his witch being threatened," he said darkly. "But Minsc and Boo know it is not little Maiyn who causes this righteous frenzy that fills Minsc with the urge to bash evil together!"

And then he fell silent, suddenly feeling sad. He had failed glorious Dynaheir, letting her fall to the mad mage while he was imprisoned, unable to protect her as he'd sworn to do. Now little Imoen, her apprentice, his new witch, was threatened with danger; and before him, little Maiyn was being consumed by an evil that he could not fight, that he could not get to. He felt helpless and lost.

Boo squeaked. Minsc nodded sadly but listened to the words being dispensed as Maiyn lapsed back into her melancholy mood. Boo spoke of things that Minsc didn't fully understand, but he listened anyway; he listened as the hamster told him to bide his time, to continue protecting those closest to him as much as he could. Boo told him that some things could not be dealt with by the righteous bootheel of goodness, and that sometimes people had to save themselves -- Minsc couldn't do it for them. This made him sad, but still he nodded, for Boo was wise indeed, and he silently promised to continue to do what he'd been doing all along.

He was their friend -- and they, his. He would not forsake them when they needed him so badly, and when little Imoen and Knight Anomen returned to their fold, he would make sure that their paths did not part again -- not until they were safe from the harm that Minsc could not protect them from.

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Up in the hills that rose around the village was a cabin, a small light illuminating the window in the gloom of the darkness. Inside was a man, sitting on an old wooden stool that had been there almost as long as he could remember. It was drawn up beside one of the beds, inhabited by a pale girl who was sleeping fitfully, only just now getting over the fever that had threatened to consume her in recent days.

Valygar Corthala knew the girl -- most of the villagers did, due to the quiet respect they'd had for her father if nothing else. They'd barely believed it when they'd gone to the small, recently overgrown cottage one day, wondering why there had been no sign of the new tenant or his guard, and found only the butchered remains of Jermien, covered with flies, and the barely alive body of Colette. She'd been taken to the nearest home and tended as best as the locals could as they tried to nurse her back to health from her weakened state. But she'd fallen ill, her frailty allowing a fever to take hold on her, and it was widely believed that she would not last the night.

But then Valygar had arrived on his way to his cabin. He had stopped to pick up supplies and heard what had happened, gathered enough knowledge of the recent inhabitants of the house to hazard a fairly adamant guess to their identity -- especially considering that the timeframe coincided perfectly with the time he would have passed through the village with Coran, Nalia, Aerie and Mazzy, on their way to the temple of Amaunator.

He took the girl with him to his cabin, arranging with the women of the village to come and see her daily. Between them they had knowledge of natural remedies that was unrivalled -- the women having learnt from their own mothers, he having an extensive lore on the properties of the plants and berries around his home. Slowly, Colette had shown signs of improvement -- and now he was fairly sure she'd survive, though her full recovery would still take some time. Tending her had given him plenty of time for quiet reflection; if he had not already been sure in his path, he certainly was now.

A knock on the door caused him to look up, and he swiftly made his way over, unlatching the rickety lock that he knew he should replace and opening his door to the darkness outside. A young boy stood there in the rain, shivering, his teeth chattering with the cold.

"Master Corthala!" he exclaimed, letting the man drag him inside. Valygar closed the door and manoeuvred the boy over towards the roaring fire, instructing him to warm himself up while he prepared him a hot drink. The boy did what he was told obediently, waiting in silence as the ranger made a fresh cup of herbal tea for him. He accepted it gratefully.

"What is it you want, Willet?" Valygar asked the Imnesvale stableboy. "It's a bad night to come roaming around the hills."

"He's here, Master Corthala!" the boy exclaimed, his shivering having subsided slightly. "They arrived today, three of them, though there was no sign of the halfling you'd mentioned."

Valygar tensed, his dark eyes studying the boy intently. "The mage? He is in the village?"

Willet nodded. "With two others -- a girl an' a massive man. They've got rooms for one night an' are on horseback -- well, the man in the green robes has a pony. An' they have somethin' with them -- I don't know what it is because Vicenzo wouldn't let me near, but it was to be kept safe, they said."

The ranger nodded, absent-mindedly picking up the hunting dagger that was lying on the counter beside him, fingering the edge as he examined the sharpness of it. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I appreciate you coming to tell me."

"'S'my pleasure," replied Willet, finishing the last of his tea. "I couldn't just ignore 'em, not after what they did to Colette an' all, but I'd best get back before anyone notices I've gone missin'." The boy made his own way out, back into the rain that was showing no sign of letting up. Valygar looked over to the slumbering girl; he couldn't just leave her here, alone, despite the temptation that was there for him to just make his way to the inn and catch the mage unaware. But Margie would be there in the morning, as she always was, taking her turn to care for Colette. He would wait until then; slip out while someone else was there to see to the girl. It didn't matter if they'd left -- he was confident his tracking skills would be enough to let him follow them, especially considering the conditions the ground would be in after all this rain, and Willet would make sure he had a horse.

He sat down beside the fire, staring into the flames. He was a patient man -- he'd always been a patient man. He could wait a little longer.