A/N: I hope this doesn't come too much as an anti-climax, since there will be a very definite climax, but not at this point... I can't help but feel my chapters recently have been weaker, but perhaps that is because I have less time to dedicate to them, so less time to wait until they just flowed. Oh well! We'll slowly get to the end, one way or another ;)

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

-----------------------

Return to Life

-----------------------

Valygar waited. The entrance that the Zhent mage used to enter the ruins was not the same one the ranger had used with his companions many weeks before, but it didn't matter. He would still find them, but he'd find them in his own time. And, if he was to admit the truth, he was undecided about his next move. They'd left their horses securely tied to some nearby trees, meaning that they fully intended to come back this way. He could either wait for them here, in terrain he was comfortable in, or follow them into the bowels of the temple -- parts he'd not accessed before and had no knowledge of the layout regarding. If there proved to be many split paths, or winding passages, he risked taking the wrong turn and losing them. Following footprints embedded in the mud was much easier than finding a clue as to the heading of someone on a dry stone floor.

As he debated his options internally, he rubbed the side of his hunting knife against a flat stone that he'd found. His bow was still strapped to his back -- ideally, one shot from it would take out the mage, but that was assuming he was foolish enough to leave himself unprotected. He certainly hadn't appeared as odd as Valygar remembered him, but the stalker was not willing to assume anything. He hadn't expected a chance to claim retribution to come along as quickly as it had, and so it was doubly important that he got things right.

The larger of the two guards, the male one, had heaved a sack down from one of the horses before they went inside. It had to be the package Willet had spoken of, and an icy chill ran up his spine as he contemplated what it was. But the more he wondered, the surer he became -- why else would they come here, to this forsaken and abandoned temple? He was not a man of faith, he had no God to offer his tribute to, so he could not be wholly certain of his suspicion; but religion and life occasionally went hand in hand, with the most powerful of clerics and druids touching the dead before the souls were fully lost. Perhaps the other companion, the smaller one, was not a guard; perhaps it was a cleric, needed to perform the necessary rites on the halfling's body. For Valygar was sure that it was Montaron's corpse that was being carried by the muscular man; what ill had fallen him would remain a mystery. All that the ranger wanted to remain a certainty was that the halfling's second chance at life would be ended as swiftly as his wizard companion's first -- and then he would walk away, his conscience abated, Aerie's soul left to be at peace. Valygar had no wish to fight Xzar's mysterious accomplices; Willet had spoken about them with surprising kindness, and they didn't sound as if they were of the same mind as the mage and the halfling.

Regardless, Valygar would give them one chance only to listen to his reasons, and then he would not hesitate to defend himself. He would not feel any sorrow at ending the life of Zhentish sympathisers.

-----------------------

They'd not gone far inside the temple before Maiyn took the lead rather forcibly from Xzar. The mage had stopped at the bottom of the long flight of stairs that led down from the canopied forest above, his eyes glowing slightly as he peered around in the dark. He muttered and mumbled as she pushed past him but made no effort to stop her; a flick of his wrist brought a bobbing ball of flame to his side, which he directed ahead dance beside her. She frowned slightly.

"You would be better keeping it beside you and Minsc," she advised. "I can see well enough."

"Ah, the elven infravision," he cooed softly, beckoning his torch back, closer to him. "I wanted such an ability for my own, but I was to be greatly disappointed."

Maiyn raised an eyebrow and glanced back quizzically at the necromancer. "You were? I would have thought such a trick would have been easy enough for someone of your power -- I mean, even Imoen can usually manage it."

Xzar smiled at her and she immediately felt slightly unsettled. Slowly he drifted closer to her, until his head was just behind hers; and then he leaned down, almost close enough to make physical contact as they slowly made their way down the corridor. "It was back when I was just an apprentice," he said, his voice gentle and cold. "I learned, quite slowly, that it would involve more than simply plucking out the eyes."

The ranger stopped and slowly turned around to face the green-robed mage. His face was mostly impassive, though there was a slight hint of questioning in his eyes, wondering at her pause. She simply stared at him for a few moments, not quite sure how to react. In the end, it was he who spoke.

"There is a problem?"

"I..."

You are going to accept that from him?

This is nothing to do with you!

But it is. I chose how to create my children by selecting a mother with the appropriate race, remember. By insulting you, he is insulting me.

Maiyn clenched her teeth together in a deliberate and careful manner. Then, wordlessly, she turned back to the corridor and walked ahead, more briskly than before. It grated on her nerves to just let it drop with Xzar -- though on one hand she was quite relieved... she wasn't a coward, but he was more unpredictable and intimidating with his senses than he was without them. And there was no way that she was going to do anything that would ultimately gain approval from her father again.

The quicker she got them to the place she suspected was the altar, the better.

-----------------------

The statue was as she remembered it, mainly. It didn't seem as big, or as grand as she seemed to remember it, but it had to be the right place. They'd paused, briefly, in the chamber where the spirit of Amaunator's avatar had addressed her, but she could feel nothing to suggest she was in the right place to perform the type of rite Xzar's book had described. This room, however, seemed to be charged with a holy power. It was fainter than she would have expected, but when she closed her eyes, she was acutely aware of it; now it would be up to her to attempt the ritual, in a temple of a God she didn't worship, with only the aid of a book that she didn't fully understand.

Xzar had, however, scribbled some helpful notes down to aid her, and so she understood the basic principles of the ceremony. Only one thing worried her slightly, but she tried to put it out of her mind as she nodded and smiled her thanks to Minsc, who had finished gently unwrapping Montaron's corpse. The ranger silently lifted the halfling's small frame and placed it into the golden bowl. Maiyn was sure it shone slightly, for a second, and cleared her throat nervously.

"We need a personal possession to place within, also," she said quietly.

"You do not sound as confident as I would have expected," Xzar noted, holding out a neatly folded silken handkerchief. Apparently it wasn't the actual object, but held whatever the necromancer had decided to nominate within its folds. Maiyn knew better than to enquire any further, and placed it, unopened, on Montaron's chest, moving his cold, lifeless hands atop to keep it in place.

"I am fine," she lied. She knew she wasn't, but it would be unacceptable to admit it to the mage. He seemed to be ready to question her further, or push his point a little harder; and so she turned to face him, quite enjoying the sensation she felt as she noticed his reaction to the way her eyes glinted and flashed noticeably with her irritation. Wordlessly, he backed away, moving to stand beside Minsc at the far end of the room as she settled herself down, kneeling before the statue and taking one last look at the book, propped up beside her. She would find it hard to reference it once she'd begun the rite properly, and so she took her time to check over the parts she felt hazy about. Then, finally, she turned her attention to the figure before her and closed her eyes.

Fenmarel, hear me as one of Your most faithful calls to You...

-----------------------

In the ever-changing land of Limbo, Fenmarel Mestarine sat in the centre of the Fennimar and Answered. He'd been waiting for the call, expecting it to come. It was hard for him not to, considering he'd been watching the progress of his young cleric almost continuously. He'd wondered if she would actually go ahead with the procedure when she realised that it would not be the blessing of Amaunator that she would be seeking, despite it being in a temple of the long dead god. But, apart from a slight hesitation, she'd diligently went ahead with her promise. And that was what was important to him; he valued the fact she was ready to keep her word.

Slowly the air swirled before him, and the form of a small elven girl took shape. Silently she looked around, seemingly relaxed by the appearance of the trees. He'd decided to keep them as static as possible to lessen the chances of her becoming nervous, though part of him wondered how she'd cope if he were to unleash the full power of Limbo upon her... But softly, he smiled to himself. He needed to have patience -- after all, she'd see it for herself one day, if she chose to follow him here, to his home plane.

Her eyes fixed onto him, widening slightly before her head dipped down into a respectful bow. "My Lord," she said, not quietly, but not strongly. He was quietly impressed by her control.

"You called for me as part of an ancient Rite," he replied. "You are aware that this ritual is of human conception?"

"I am," she answered, bringing her gaze back up to meet his own. He couldn't help but notice that even her spiritual form contained the golden eyes to mirror her physical body. Was the taint really so strong within her that it had managed to achieve such a powerful grasp -- one which allowed it to freely show itself off however it chose to do so, without her being able to resist? "You are the one whose name I serve in, and You are the one who can either allow or deny my entreaty."

He nodded. "You are here to ask for my assistance in reversing the influence of the negative plane on the young halfling man, and to grant you with the power to offer him the chance of life once more."

"I am."

"It is my duty to ask you why."

It was her turn to nod. "I urge you to look beyond their misdeeds and wrongdoings," she said. "Though I share little in common with him, he has twice chosen to act in a manner which has saved my life, and that of my companions at the times. For whatever reason he did that, I... I owe him this last -- final -- symbol of my gratitude."

"To make things even between you?"

"Yes," she said. "To make things equal."

He smiled slightly at her choice of words. A mere halfling mortal could never equal the girl standing before him, and she knew that -- but she was desperately trying to skirt around the matter of her own heritage. He could feel it; he could see everything she was thinking as she stood there.

"Do you believe you have the strength to wield the power if I bless you with it?" he asked.

There was a pause, and then: "Yes."

"Do you have the focus?"

He watched her as she bit her lip slightly. Her eyes narrowed, as if she had started assessing him, trying to work out what the correct answer was to this potentially trick question. But it was no trick question; he had no intention in partaking in any ritual which could, potentially, cause her harm. The taint within her was aware enough to recognise any energy or power she received; only if she could control it without allowing herself to slip to the darkness of Bhaal's power would Fenmarel bestow upon her what she so eagerly sought.

"I have felt my concentration slip more often recently," she admitted slowly, "but now I am aware of it. I know where it comes from -- I can feel it stirring when its interest wakes. I can control it long enough to perform the process."

He knew she was sincere. She said the words, not to get what she wanted -- what she really felt like she needed from him -- but because she had the confidence that what she said was the absolute truth. And a small part of it was almost pleading; pleading for a chance for her to prove it to him. To her.

So silently he nodded, and she smiled.

-----------------------

Xzar's long fingers drummed against his arm as he stood beside the imbecile oaf who was meant to be 'guarding' them. The girl had been praying for almost an hour, now, and there had been no sign of any change in Montaron, nor any movement from her. Were he not so attuned to the presence of the dead himself, he may have begun to suspect that she'd expired during the process.

He let out a long, impatient sigh, his eyes darting around the filthy, squalid room that she'd led them to. He had no idea why it was always the most desolate and dismal of places that these sorts of events had to take place in, nor why these pathetic mewlings to the so-called Gods had to take so long. He wondered, briefly, if she was seeking a way to defy him somehow -- perhaps having lured him here for her own means. It was certainly remote enough to warrant such a suspicion, and the girl was clearly one of the Children, marked enough by her father's influence to have become blessed with the form of his avatar in the heights of her fury. An interesting ability, but not one he wished to have opposing him.

A glance over to the giant of a man was enough to relax Xzar slightly. He was making no effort to block the archway leading away from the chamber, and the girl had told him the secret to the safe crossing of the tiled floor that lay just beyond. Added to that his full pouch of spell components, and there would be little chance of them managing to detain him if they did decide to double-cross him. And then he would become the hunter and they the prey... and life was always easier for the hunter.

With some effort he resigned himself to just waiting.

-----------------------

It was almost an hour later that the statue's bowl began to glow, and another dozen turns of the hourglass, at least, before Maiyn's eyes opened. Minsc was immediately by her side, offering his arm as support as she clambered to her feet. Xzar was also there, peering intently at the still unmoving and grey corpse of his former companion.

"Has it worked? Why has there been no change?"

"My plea was heard," Maiyn croaked hoarsely. Her throat felt very dry, and she gratefully accepted a sip of water from Minsc's waterskin. "We have to wait now."

"Wait?" Xzar asked. "We've done nothing but wait!"

"It's up to Monty now," she shrugged, leaning against the Rashemeni's frame, her eyes flickering slightly with fatigue. "We just... have to wait."

Xzar muttered darkly to himself, then whirled around and walked to the far end of the room. He picked up a single bag that he'd placed there, returning to the others with it in his arms. "This bag," he said, "is very important. When Montaron comes back to us, I may not... I may not be myself. It is imperative that you ensure that this bag reaches him safely."

"Why?" Maiyn asked, her face wrinkling in the effort to concentrate. "What's so important about it?"

"It is our worldly possessions, imbecile girl," he hissed. "Now will you comply with my wishes or not?"

She shrugged again at him. "Sure."

He glared back at her, but she'd let her gaze drift off to the bowl again. It was still glowing, brighter than it had been before, but there was no other change. Xzar dropped the pack to the ground, frustrated with the whole process. If he'd travelled all this way, gone to all this trouble for nothing-

"Urghh."

Xzar fell to his knees. The clarity and lucidity of his world began to swirl. He could not fight against it for long, he knew. The spell was powerful and it had been cast by someone intelligent enough to realise that the dead can easily become the living once again. It was with a great reluctance that Xzar allowed himself to slip back into his maniacal state -- his one, final comforting thought was the realisation that, with his insanity came his continued life. With one quick thought to the men he'd dispatched to visit his superiors, Xzar let the madness consume him and everything else began to fade around him.

-----------------------

Maiyn precariously made her way over to the now writhing body lying in the statue's bowl, her momentary distraction at Xzar's sudden slump to his knees having passed. Tentatively she reached out, letting her fingertips brush over the dirty skin on Montaron's twitching hands; and as soon as the contact was made, his body stilled, and his eyes opened wide -- darting over to look at her. And they remained, there, staring at each other for several long moments, before slowly, his mouth opened, and he whispered:

"We be bein' ev'n then, ev'n though ye tried te murder me."

-----------------------

Montaron was very hungry. Being returned to life after a short tenure as a vampire seemed to have had an effect regarding his appetite, if nothing else, and Minsc was kept pretty busy ensuring that the halfling was given enough to eat and drink to sufficiently return him to strength, enough for them to leave the temple without having to carry him.

Maiyn was watching him closely, though her attention was divided between his ravenous eating, and Xzar's return to insanity. The necromancer had, after a few minutes of kneeling on the ground; his head pressed down onto the slabs and covered with his hands, eventually stood up and surveyed his surroundings with a coolness that made Maiyn's spine chill slightly. But it passed soon enough -- in the next breath, he had sprang over to her, grabbing a torn part of her tunic and raising it to his nose so he could 'become one with the scent of folly' apparently. She'd pushed him away after that, and hoped he'd remain amused with the skeletal remains he'd discovered in the darkest of the corners.

The halfling made sure his own eyes didn't drift too far from the seemingly unthreatening young girl who was mostly fidgeting with some loose threads hanging from the torn edges of her dirty tunic. He wasn't sure whether or not he should be grateful for what she'd done; a life at Xzar's side was an unappealing prospect -- only just eclipsed by an eternity in torment as the fallen undead.

But he could remember it all. Not immediately, but slowly his mind was remembering things; recalling the events from the day he'd stabbed Xzar. He'd been charmed, he knew that now, but the urges that had driven him had felt so natural -- almost as if it was his own will directing him. How many days had passed while he served the tall, pale men and women who treated him like a new pet, he wasn't sure... but then their Mistress had arrived and things... things had livened up considerably.

She'd seemed amused by him -- angry, at first, and then... bemused. She had been small -- smaller than the others, not much taller than the tallest halfling he knew, and all skin and bones. She was no him, though; that had been painfully obvious when she'd taken him to her chambers, ascertaining his loyalty. He shuddered at the memory, though at the time, he'd felt nothing but pleasure.

And then the there'd been the fight. He'd known, somewhere deep inside him, that he knew them -- that he recognised them. But the will of his own Mistress had far surpassed his own, and he fought passionately with those who shared his vampirism. He'd fought against the girl.

He'd seen what she turned into.

And so, one careful eye was always on her, watching and studying, awaiting anything even vaguely unsettling. He had no idea what had happened -- no recollection of what it might have meant, or how she'd done it, but it had not been natural. It hadn't even been unnatural, or not in the way his former companions were; as Mistress Bodhi had felt dismayed by the change. He'd felt that, though it hadn't been conveyed with emotion. He wasn't sure he'd known at all... but with the girl changing, the vampire's confidence had taken a sharp blow and the attackers had obviously used it to their advantage.

And now he was alive again.

Now they were equal.

He paused, finished with the food and feeling much better, wondering if he should say something - wondering what to say. But before he could do anything, the tall bald warrior had quietly made his way to Maiyn's side, and was crouching beside her, one of his giant hands resting lightly on her shoulder.

"Boo thinks we should go now."

She nodded to him and looked over to Montaron. He held her gaze as she spoke.

"We'll accompany you both to the nearest village, and then... then we go our separate ways."

He nodded. It was to be that simple -- no dues owed, no hard farewells. The deeds had been done, the balance was settled, and they had their own things to see to. He was glad; he'd never been one for emotional partings.

-----------------------

It was still daylight when they emerged into the forest clearing, and Maiyn was glad. She let the faint warmth from the sun creep around her and closed her eyes, allowing a soft breeze to caress her face as it passed. Minsc immediately set to sorting out the horses, collecting the Zhent's pony first and explaining to Montaron that it had been Xzar's and they were welcome to have it to get back to the city as long as they treated it well. The halfling just scowled, snatching the reins from the berserker as the necromancer crawled around on his hands and knees, seemingly counting the daisies that were scattered around the ground.

A snatch of movement caught Maiyn's eye, and she turned for a closer look, her hand automatically drifting to her belt. With a sigh of relief, she smiled to Verya, relieved to see the cat after her brief disappearance.

Where have you been?

Busy. You are not alone here, though there is no enemy.

Maiyn froze, her eyes darting around, her face creasing into a frown. What do you mean?

No enemy. Friend of the beasts, like you.

Behind her, Montaron cursed loudly and Minsc admonished the pony, which had apparently bitten the halfling. The sounds were faint to the elf, though; her senses were consumed by her awareness of her surroundings and were pushing what she knew to be there to the back of her mind. Yet still, she could not detect what Verya spoke of, and she was about to ask again when the cat sprang past.

Behind you.

She turned quickly. There stood a dark-skinned man with a stern expression on his face. He wore simple leathers of dull colours, allowing him to blend in almost perfectly with the surroundings. He had an arrow notched to a bow, but it was not pointing at her. It was pointing directly at Montaron, and both the halfling and the berserker had noticed him.

"I could barely believe my luck when I was told your mage friend had passed through the village," the stranger said, his voice low and level, and surprisingly calm, despite his posture. Montaron said nothing in reply and merely offered a sneer.

"Who are you?" asked Maiyn shortly. Her hands were still lingering beside the hilts of her swords as she eyed the man warily.

"Boo says this is no foe," declared Minsc, a smile spreading across his face. "Boo says that our new friend is a man of the forests, just like Minsc and little Maiyn!"

The stranger seemed a little taken aback by this. His eyes flit between the Rashemeni and the elven girl, but his composure returned fully as Montaron darted over to Xzar, grabbing the mage's robe as he pranced around.

"If you truly are protectors of nature, why are you in service to such an abomination?" he asked.

"What business is it of yours who we do or do not work with?" asked Maiyn irritably.

"It's my business when they've murdered two people, one of them being my friend, and left an innocent girl to starve to death in a filthy house."

"Oh." Maiyn's hands dropped away from her weapons slightly, and Verya slunk over to the man confidently.

See. Friend.

"Minsc is confused," said the berserker, scratching his head with one hand, and holding Boo up near his face with the other. "The mage is odd and the fierce little fighter is almost as strange-"

Montaron glared darkly at Minsc.

"-but," the Rashemeni continued, "although they do not walk the path of righteousness as little Maiyn and Minsc and Boo do, they have offered their aid when the butts of evil required a good kicking! And so Minsc is confused, because that would make them almost good, but murdering and abandoning would make them almost evil, so Minsc does not know whether to hug them, or imprint the bootheel of justice upon their rears."

"As Minsc says," Maiyn added quietly, "we were in their debt for some events which happened some months ago. Our paths are due to split ways very soon, and I would advise you to hold off your grudge until that point."

The man's eyebrow rose, his arrow remained poised. "I have no business with you, and you would be well advised to leave this matter between myself and the Zhentarim."

Maiyn shrugged at his keen gaze; of course she knew about their origins. "As I said, soon our paths will split. Until then, however, I'm afraid I cannot allow you to harm them."

At last the arrow was lowered, reluctantly returned to its quiver, the bow slung back onto the strangers back. He sighed heavily. "I feared it may come to this," he said, drawing an ornately patterned katana from its sheath. Minsc's frown increased as Maiyn's own hands went back to rest on the hilts of her swords.

"I do not want to fight," the elven girl said determinedly.

Yes you do.

"Then do not stand between me and my prey," the stranger replied simply.

"This is outrageous!" Minsc roared. "A man and a woman of the forest should be ashamed of themselves to stand against each other like this!"

The man laughed mirthlessly as he faced Minsc. "This woman is defending a man who murdered an innocent, young girl; one so soft and gentle and sweet that she wished no harm upon anyone. But that didn't stop him as he took her life after drawing her away from her companions."

Maiyn looked over to the two Zhents. Xzar was looking up at the sky, his hands reaching up as if to try and touch the leaves high above them. Montaron was still smirking, his eyes fixed to the stranger.

"Is that true? Did you kill his friend?"

The halfling glanced quickly at her. "O' course it no' bein' true," he muttered.

"He lies badly," the man noted.

"What about the other girl?" Maiyn pressed. "What happened with her and her father?"

"She was tied up and left in a cupboard in what had been her family home," the man said, as if he was reading from a report. "Her father had been killed by the mage, then she was held as a prisoner until they left."

"Montaron?" Maiyn's arms were now folded across her chest.

"Would ye rather I'd left her dead?" he asked. "I'm sure ye'd have complained-"

"Enough!" Maiyn was drumming her fingers on her arms, and slowly she turned back to the stranger. "Look, I can understand why you feel the need to-"

Take them with you, the murderous ones. They will understand you.

"... Eh," Maiyn closed her eyes and shook her head slightly, taking a deep breath. "What I mean is, that I can see why you want to do what you're doing, but... you have to understand. I have my own reasons for urging you to leave now. Gain your vengeance another time."

The man gave her an incredulous look. "You still defend them?"

Kill him. He has no power to question your judgement.

"ENOUGH!" This time everyone jumped at Maiyn's raised voice, and the horses moved skittishly around their tethers. "I am tired of being constantly contradicted and talked over, and completely fed up of having to justify my every single action to the entire population of Amn!"

"Minsc thinks Little Maiyn should calm down."

"I am perfectly calm," she assured him, through gritted teeth. "Now," she said to the stranger, "for the last time and for the love of the Seldarine... will you please just go."

"No," he replied simply.

And then she knew it was unavoidable. The irritation quickly changed to anger; anger at Montaron for having deceived her, anger at the man for challenging her loyalties and position. But most of all, there was anger and rage directed at the voice in her head, which was encouraging what it hoped would come next.

"No!" At the first sign of her skin flickering in the tell-tale sign that her control was slipping, Minsc was racing towards her, sweeping her up into an insanely tight bearhug as the halfling and the stranger watched the scene with bewilderment. "Minsc shall not let it happen again!" he roared, picking the struggling girl up into his arms and moving her away and into the trees.

"Now, ye blasted fool," Montaron muttered, nudging Xzar slightly in the ribs. He'd noticed his opportunity to escape, but it was wholly reliant on getting the mage's attention and making him realise that they needed to teleport away. And quickly.

The stranger didn't take much longer to compose himself, slowly turning to face the Zhents. Montaron grimaced and pulled his sword free from the scabbard, preparing to kill if necessary. He'd cheated death once -- he wasn't going to give up on life again this soon. "We meet again then, Valygar," he said. "Ye can still just turn around and walk away."

"Not until I have my revenge," Valygar replied, slowly advancing towards them.

Sounds of scuffling could be heard, but they were soon drowned out by another noise; louder and faster. At the last minute, Valygar leapt back, narrowly out of the way as a dappled horse raced into the clearing, reined up abruptly by its rider whose eyes searched the clearing almost desperately. Xzar toppled over backwards at the surprise.

"Coran?" the ranger asked in disbelief.

"Mommy... I don't feel so good," the necromancer whined. Then there was a flash of light, and both he and the halfling had gone. Valygar swore loudly.

"Where is she?" Coran asked urgently, ignoring the disappearance of the Zhents. "Where is Maiyn?"

-----------------------

In the end, Minsc had held her until she'd regained control of herself, his furious embrace fighting against her powerful struggles as the essence of her father tried to take over. By the time she'd won, she was exhausted, and had collapsed to the ground, leaning against the trunk of a large tree as the berserker beckoned over the others.

Coran and Valygar had exchanged tales; the ranger expressing his dismay on losing his prey when he was so close and his surprise at discovering who these two strangers were, and the fighter explaining as best as he could, the reasons Maiyn had for acting as she did. Valygar didn't seem convinced, however.

Nalia stood in the background watching. She knew why Maiyn had been restrained, and she heard that Maiyn had been willing to defend Aerie's murderer. She wasn't sure what to think right now, but for Coran's sake, she made herself stay there to support him. There was no sign of Edwina -- Coran didn't seem bothered by her absence in the slightest, and Nalia was in no rush to bring it up. She had a feeling they'd find their other companion before they got far from the temple.

Eventually Maiyn stood. "I'm fine... no, really, I am," she insisted, waving away Minsc's protests. She looked over to see the others watching her, and as her eyes fell onto Coran, she let out a small smile.

Ignore him. He can only make you weak.

She sighed heavily and pointed to the pony. "You should take that," she said to Valygar. "You will see that it is properly looked after, and perhaps someone in the village could use it."

"A pony is poor compensation for the escape of two murderers," he replied darkly.

"Perhaps it is," she said, her tone instantly becoming colder. "But I'm a known murderer, didn't you know? So is he," she pointed at Coran, "and him," she finished, pointing at Minsc. "We've murdered, killed and generally done what we needed to do while on the road. Are you going to judge us too?"

"You don't go around murdering innocents while they sleep or wander the streets alone."

"Don't I?" she asked, her eyes glinting dangerously. Everything felt hazy again. "Murder flows through my veins, and I was born to ensure that the Throne of Bhaal would not lie empty."

An uncomfortable silence fell over them again, and Minsc slowly reached out to pat the girl's arm. Her eyes became less glazed, the golden glow seemed to dim.

"Boo says we should ride on to the village," he said sombrely, "before it gets too dark."

"We're not going to the village," Maiyn replied wearily. "We head south and camp when needed. There's nothing for us here, any more."

Minsc merely nodded, walking with her as they returned to their horses. Valygar accepted the reins of the pony as the berserker held them out, and he looked up at Maiyn as she mounted her horse, preparing to move on.

"I hope we do not meet again," he said quietly. "Though I have heard much good about you, I feel that our values and loyalties are too different to overcome."

She smiled slightly. "I hope you are as strong as you believe you are," she replied. "Your prey are not as weak and easy as you might think. And I cannot wish you well on your endeavour."

"I would not ask you to."

"Then, I shall disagree with you, Valygar. I hope we do meet again one day... but I hope the circumstances are different, that... things are different. Be safe."

And then she nudged her pony on, Minsc close behind, who offered an amiable nod to Valygar as he passed. Coran and Nalia quickly mounted their own horses.

"Under any other circumstance-" Coran began.

Valygar chuckled. "Perhaps. Go -- she will need you."

Coran nodded. "She might not wish it, but... good luck."

"And to you."

With one final wave, Coran and Nalia cantered away in pursuit of Maiyn and Minsc, and Valygar was left standing alone with the pony in the clearing as the sun began to set. He sighed heavily, then began the long walk back to the village. He'd missed out on his prey today, but in truth, he'd never expected to stumble across them so soon. He still had plans. He was still a patient man.