All too Human

(3:00 AM)

"Can we stop for a moment?" Cerdan asked. It was bad enough having to climb so many stairs. It was made worse by the fact that every surface of the tower interior seemed to be covered with tiny black thorns. He'd certainly need a new pair of boots when this was all over.

"No rest for the righteous, Caden."

Cerdan wasn't actually tired, but he did his best to appear fatigued, making a show of staggering slowly up each step and panting heavily. He wasn't skilled or desperate enough to attack the vampire outright, so he'd have to settle for slowing her down.

"That's quite easy for you to say," he wheezed. "Bloody undead can go on forever." Lenthyrr halted suddenly. "Oh, what, is that another sore point for you? Did the Church of Tyr raise you as a vampire or something?"

"No," she replied coldly, "I survived the massacre at the Hill. I entered the realm of undeath years later in a separate incident." She continued her ascent but didn't elaborate, and Cerdan had a feeling it would be a poor choice to press her further.

"I've gone along with you thus far," he said, changing approach. "But I still feel like I'm in the dark about everything that's happened since yesterday. Okay, so that first Sigil must've either made Cyrael unkillable, or it restored that stone statue to flesh or something, right?"

"Both, in fact."

"But what about the second Sigil? Or that wild magic thing? And how do these things relate to–"

"The Behemoth's Heart," Lenthyrr finished for him. "There are many separate branches in the river that is magic. Yet they all flow from the same basic source; the artifacts use the same arcane or divine or wild energy that flows through our world. In the hands of a skilled spellbinder, they can be used in concert. The Behemoth is the sword, the Sigil is the shield, and the Wild Source is the fuel. Everything has its place in our quest."

The twisting stairwell opened into a room of several smooth concave walls. Cerdan assumed they were near the top of the tower. In the centre was a single black marble column that went no higher than chest level. A spherical indentation marked the top of the pedestal.

Cerdan paused and glanced around. "And what happens now? Do we rain flaming death on the approaching masses?"

"No." She reached into the wide sleeves of her robe as she approached the middle of the room. "Cyrael commands the flame. I prefer the power of ice." Lenthyrr placed the shimmering blue ice orb atop the pedestal, leaving the black cloak draped over the artifact.

Crossing to the opposite side, Lenthyrr pressed a hand against the wall. A grinding noise filled the chamber as the black metal breached and separated to form an oval aperture, wide enough to afford them a clear view of the tower's northern approach.

Joining her by the window, Cerdan could spot a train of torches in the distance slowly making their way toward the black tower. "You can't seriously believe that they won't be able to breach this place. We won't be able to fight that many."

"Of course they will. But I have all the weapons I need right here." From within her robe, she removed a yellow scroll, which she unravelled far enough for Cerdan to read the elvish runes at the top that marked the name of the spell.

Imprisonment. "You're planning to use that on whole lot of them?"

"No… merely the lone enemy that will be successful in entering this tower."

"I see…" Cerdan crossed his arms, wondering what in the hells this woman was going on about. He was going to have to act soon, but it still felt like he was only seeing half of Cyrael's plan.

(3:09)

Selena hurried down one of the many alleyways in the Old Quarter, confident that she would reach the black tower before the High Prelate's group. Saudere and his men would probably take a more roundabout path, sticking with the wider main roads and keeping in close marching order, whereas a single person could take a faster, more direct route. She knew that if Cerdan were here, he'd probably say something glib and stupid, like 'Now you're thinking like a thief!'

The cleric climbed over a pile of rubble in the back-alley and narrowed her eyes ahead. She had a clear view of the tower's base, not too far off in the distance. She heard the sound of something scraping against stone behind her, and she immediately turned around but saw nothing in the dark.

"Stop hiding and come out, Dace. I know you're there, criminal!" she shouted, knowing full well that it would be the dogged mercenary.

Sure enough, Dace emerged from behind a corner a few metres away. His continued pursuit wasn't unexpected in the least. The bloody killer had to be one of the most obsessive people she'd ever met. What was surprising, however, was the small figure he was pulling behind him by a rope. Nell had a weary look in her eyes and a gag over her mouth.

Selena could barely find the words. "You –"

"Yes, I did," he replied, with a hint of irritation in his voice. "Do not try to lecture me again, it is fast tiring. I brought the girl here, so now you have no choice but to make use of her abilities. Unless you would care to send her wandering back through an unfamiliar city on her own?"

"You're horrid!" she said, moving forward and tearing the cloth away from Nell's mouth.

"Hate this city…" the minstrel muttered.

Damnation, Selena thought, I swear, after today…

"I don't have time to look after both of you," the cleric said, "But know this, blackheart, if you harm this girl any further, by all that is holy, I'll see you suffer for your crimes!"

"Threats are not your strong point, elf. Moreover, I have no need to harm her; she may be of use later, and poses absolutely no threat to me."

Focusing on Nell, Selena placed her hands on the girl's shoulders and looked her in the eye. "Listen to me, I'm sorry, but I can't see you to safety until after I've investigated that black tower." Nell gave an unconvincing nod but remained silent, glaring at Dace. "And you," Selena pointed at the mercenary. "I intend to go into the tower alone. I don't need or want your type of 'help', so keep out of the way. You are not the leader here, and after all I've had to put up with from you, I'm not afraid to bring this to blows. Understand?"

Her other hand twitched slightly as it touched the handle of her mace beneath her cloak. Right now she was too furious at the blackhearted man to pursue a more diplomatic solution with him. Dace merely shrugged, and then used his dagger to cut the ropes that were binding Nell's wrists.

I hope that's a small victory, at least, Selena thought to herself as she continued to lead them toward the tower in the south.

(3:17)

A disturbing grin had appeared on Lenthyrr's lips as she peered through Cerdan's spyglass at the approaching army. "Yes, I believe they are within range now. Time to begin."

Cerdan scratched his head and glanced back at the covered ice orb behind them. "Seems rather far to hit with that thing. And only good for one throw, really."

"The orb is simply the source of the magic." Lenthyrr said as she took a pebble from her pocket. The rogue watched as she removed the cloak from the ice sphere, tossed the garment to the floor, and then pressed the pebble against the ice artifact. She closed her eyes a moment and he could hear her whispering an incantation of some kind.

As she finished, Lenthyrr took the pebble to the window and held it up between her thumb and finger, as if she was about to flick it. Instead, she spoke another word and the tiny stone blasted away from her hand in the direction of the approaching column of knights. Squinting at the night's sky, Cerdan immediately lost sight of the pebble.

Lenthyrr made a sudden gesture with her other hand, going from fist to spread fingers. At the same time, a jagged chunk of blue ice exploded into being in mid-air over the advancing army and plummeted down, causing a number of visible torch flames to either scatter away or wink out completely as the ice boulder struck the ground and splintered.

Even so far away, Cerdan thought he could hear the cries of shock and panic coming from the small humans. He looked at Lenthyrr and saw that the smile on her lips seemed to stretch her face in an odd way, creating lines around her cheeks that made her look like a madwoman.

"Ah yes," she whispered, "The fruits of revenge bear such sweet taste."

(3:23)

Dace glanced back at the others and barked, "Stop lagging. Must I always resort to threats to provoke haste?"

"The girl here is tired, and I'm tired of hearing your barbs every time you open your mouth," the elf shot back. "What could possibly drive a man to be as cruel and base as you? Did your impoverished parents beat you as a child?"

That put Dace on the verge of a laugh. His childhood had been a particularly happy one, but he'd sooner die before revealing that fact to some conceited idiot like her. She would probably have a day of glee picking over his past.

"Cruel as it is, I chose my path freely, faithmonger. Poorer is the person who lives with a life forced upon them, particularly one of indoctrinated servitude. Damned fanatics."

"…Are you saying something about me?"

Figure it out yourself, he thought as they reached the end of the alley. The passage opened to what must have been an empty clearing in the streets of the Old Quarter before the black tower appeared. The doorway at the tower base seemed to beckon them forward.

"Both of you stay here," ordered the woman. "Stay out of sight in case the Prelate's army arrives after I go in."

"And just what do you hope to accomplish alone, elf? You are hardly threatening enough to even scare a goblin. This is a problem that can only be solved with sheer force."

Her tone became sharper. "It may be inconceivable to your kind, but I still believe there is hope for a peaceful resolution. Stay outside."

"Very well. But you are making a mistake," he replied, adding the word 'idiot' in his mind. If the useless woman was fool enough to walk straight to her death, it was not his concern. Besides, it would be better to wait for the rest of the faithmonger army to show up and distract the tower occupants before rushing in headlong.

Selena moved over to Nell and began whispering a few words with the girl, momentarily glancing over at Dace, as if they were conspiring against him. They were hardly a threat to him combined, let alone separated, so he simply crossed his arms and waited. When the elf was done speaking, she crossed the clearing and cautiously approached the black structure without sparing another word on the mercenary. As soon as she stepped inside the door's threshold, the walls of the tower creaked slightly as they began to shift, abruptly sealing over the door with flat black marble.

(3:32)

"Ahem, I hate to interrupt your gleeful manslaughter," Cerdan began, "but how is any of this going to achieve anything? You can't expect to wipe out all humanity from a single tower overnight. It's all a diversion from something else, isn't it? Cyrael's doing something elsewhere, I take it?"

She didn't look away from the window as she continued tossing ice-ensorcelled stones out at the approaching army. "Indeed. This place is merely provides the flame for the moths."

"You really don't think highly of them, do you?"

With a sweeping motion, Lenthyrr hurled the rest of the pebbles in her hand, bringing an entire wall of ice boulders down in the middle of the army's path to the tower. Cerdan felt somewhat glad that Selena was well away from all this mayhem. The cleric wouldn't last five minutes against Lenthyrr.

To his question, the elven vampire responded, "Caden, let me pose to you a question. Why is it, do you think, that the elves have made so little progress over the past few millennia?"

Cerdan wondered why she was merely staring forward without continuing her magical assault, but decided it was best to keep her mind off their slowly advancing opponents. "What sort of progress do you mean? We've established new forms of magic, strongholds in Evermeet and Evereska, and there–"

"I meant in terms of military force and population. There have been few true advancements for our kind, only compromise and loss as our people shirk back into dwindling forests. Not 'strongholds' as you say; refugee camps. Our lands are torn from our grasp and little by little the elvish races are forced to retreat to a rapidly shrinking number of safe havens."

"Elves still exist in great numbers throughout the realms. What are you talking about?"

"No. Elves are forced to integrate into human cities and cultures, conditioned into thinking and acting like little more than humans with pointed ears. Even you seem to have fallen prey to this corruption." She raised the hood of her cloak, but Cerdan had no doubt that there was a wide sneer on her face.

"And our people," she continued, barely raising her voice above a whisper, "merely sit back and permit the humans to proliferate and spread like vermin. Is our inaction because we're long-lived, so we simply take things slower? Absolutely not. The Dale Reckoning was a mistake, you see. Elves were once on the path to becoming the dominant race on Faerun. Now humans are the bearers of that title, not by ingenuity or virtue, but through sheer attrition, of all things."

"Yes, yes, of course. But what does any of this have to do with Cyrael?"

"Even now, he prepares the Behemoth's Heart. As I said, it is to be the sword of our vengeance."

"I don't understand why you keep going on about the Heart. We already know it's gone dormant."

She slowly raised a hand to her face, touching her lips. "Again, you fail to understand. The Heart's connection with the Behemoth's power – with you – has been renewed with your touch. Cyrael need only cast the right spell upon the crystal, and the Behemoth shall walk again. Why do you think it was so important for you to remain here with me?"

"… Oh, hells." Cerdan finally understood it – she wasn't simply planning to wipe out the approaching army with the ice shards… she wanted to unleash the Behemoth on them.

"The Behemoth's power was exhausted at Caden's Hill, because it held only a finite source of magical energy. But aided with the perpetual magic of the Wild Source, the Behemoth can go on to wipe this dismal city from the face of Toril. With that done, we shall turn our gaze north, to Waterdeep, and–"

Cerdan suddenly pivoted, driving his heel into the back of Lenthyrr's left knee. As strong as she was, the vampire was taken by surprise and collapsed forward on one leg. The elf then slammed his elbow into the back of her skull, knocking her down as she grasped the side of the tower's window opening.

Wasting no time, the elf grabbed the enchanted cloak from the ground and used it to scoop the ice sphere off its pedestal. Clutching the wrapped artifact under one arm, the rogue dashed toward the door and began to hurry down the steps, hoping he still had time to flee the building and find Cyrael before the Heart was activated.

(3:42)

"Hnnh. About time they arrived," Dace said as he peered at the troops approaching from down the street.

Nell peeked out from within the alley as well, silently gauging how far she would have to dash before the knights would be able to spot her in the dark. Despite what the elven cleric said to her earlier, Nell figured she would have better chances with the paladin army than with this criminal in a dark alley.

Just as she was bracing herself to make a run for it, the mercenary pointed two fingers at her face and stepped out of the alley, toward the army. "Remain where you are and watch the tower. I must investigate this. You know what will happen if you defy me." Without explaining further, Dace began walking closer toward the knights of Tyr.

Grumbling under her breath, Nell folded her arms and leaned against the wall, satisfied, at least, that the maniac was finally leaving her alone for now.

(3:46)

"Ah, the greatest tragedy," Lenthyrr whispered to herself, "is when a man, once so brave, falls so far and commits himself to treachery." Cyrael was right, after all. It left no small pain in her otherwise hollow heart to know for certain now that Caden would never willingly champion their cause again. All that she could do now was honour the oath they had all sworn before Caden's Hill and carry on their crusade. She would remember Caden's Hill, even if the Bloodletter himself would not.

As she forced herself back up to her feet, she realized that a jagged piece of black metal had pierced her stomach when she fell. The narrow wound was lined with a black viscous gunk that she could only assume was long-congealed blood from within her body.

"Pah," she said, ignoring the wound and looking out the tower window toward the streets. Reaching a hand outside, Lenthyrr quickly traced out a round symbol in the air, which caused a green globe of light to briefly materialize in the air. Staring out across the derelict buildings of the Old Quarter, she knew that Cyrael would see the signal. The celestial was probably closer to the tower than he let on to Caden, enough to observe the Behemoth's rebirth firsthand.

But for now, it was time for Lenthyrr to deal with one other problem. She turned to the door through which Caden had left, and made a brushing gesture in the air with one hand. The black walls began to grind and shift, blocking the exit completely and creating a new doorway on the other side of the room. Closing her eyes, the elven vampire could feel the shape of the magical structure around her. Concentrating on the stairwell below her, Lenthyrr began to subtly shift the tower's form. She carefully split the spiral corridor to create two separate stairwells in the building, ensuring that Caden and the cleric would not pass each other on their respective paths.

The vampire reached into her robe and removed the imprisonment scroll. Time to give the cleric of Tyr exactly what she deserved.

(3:53)

Cyrael stood atop the rooftop of what must have once been an inn or tavern of some kind. With four floors separating him from the ground, the celestial was confident that he wouldn't be easily spotted up here, while also having a relatively clear view of the tower and the part of the clearing that the knights occupied.

The green light emanating from the tower window was the sign that Cerdan would be exiting the tower at any moment. The celestial reached into his coat pocket, and held the red crystal out in his palm. A steady red glow emitted from the artifact every few seconds, as if it was a real beating heart.

Focusing his mind on the Behemoth's Heart, the celestial could feel the renewed magical energy flowing within. He quickly recalled the spell he needed, and began to speak the syllables out loud.

(3:55)

Cerdan jumped down the last few steps, nearly tripping as his boots caught on some of the barbs in the stairs. Stumbling out the door, the elf's hopes of escaping to a safe distance sank when he saw a half dozen knights standing in a half-circle outside the tower doorway. A grinding noise sounded from behind, and the elf turned to see the tower wall seal over the passageway.

"Drop what you're carrying!" shouted an elderly man standing behind the knights. The rogue recognized him as the Prelate of Tyr from back at the temple. Eyeing the many clergy and city guards standing across the clearing behind Saudere, Cerdan decided to do as they said and carefully placed the ice sphere, still wrapped in the protective cloak, down on the dirt.

"Now, I'm sure we can talk this out," Cerdan said, slowly raising his hands, palms out. "Before anyone does something rash, you should know that–"

His voice caught in his throat as he felt a terribly familiar buzzing sensation in his ears, accompanied by an odd tingling in his stomach. It was too late. Cyrael was unleashing the Heart's power.

"I – guh…" was all he could get out as his knees suddenly buckled. It felt as if there was an expanding fire inside his chest, fighting to escape his body.

Prelate Saudere's eyes widened, evidently realizing what was happening. "Shoot him. Shoot him now! Kill him before the magic overtakes him!" he shouted, backing up and retreating toward the larger portion of the army across the clearing behind them.

The knights glanced at each other in confusion for a moment before levelling their crossbows in Cerdan's direction. Blurriness overtook his vision, and the last thing the elf could see before blacking out was the sight of the world around him becoming tinged in a furious red light.

Fifty years after the battle that irrevocably altered his life, the massacre of Caden's Hill was about to repeat itself. The Behemoth had awakened once more.

(4:00 AM)