Disclaimer: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. Nor do I own The Solitary Reaper by W. Wordsworth
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

Sing a merry madrigal

Aerie awoke before the dawn, though she did not stir; instead just lay there next to him, her misgivings slowly rising with the sun. This was not the first time she had lain with a man. Nor was it the first time she had perhaps regretted it either, the boy Hollin back in the circus taking one such night as a confirmation of feelings that she was still unsure of, and her ensuing hesitance had hurt him enough to end their relationship.

She lay there for what seemed like hours, just watching him as he slept. The curtains had not been drawn the night before and he looked striking bathed in the grey dawn light, and Aerie considered he was probably the most physically beautiful man she had ever known. His skin had an almost lucent quality, his hair loose and looking an even richer blue against the white of the pillow. The light was bringing the scars on his face into sharp relief and she let her eyes travel them; pairs scoring chin and forehead and along each cheekbone. She did not usually notice them now, so used to seeing his face as a whole as she was. They seemed too regular to have just been accidental, and she suddenly wondered how he had got them.

Would he even tell her if she asked?

And in that moment, strange though it seemed considering what had passed between them, she had never felt more alone. Quietly she rose, slipping from the bed to pull on her shift before moving silently to the window. The view was to the south, the town and forests beyond still grey with an early mist and she watched them warm with the dawn, thinking about all the other things she did not know about him. She had thought last night would have made things better, close that final rift between them, but it had done nothing. She felt as apart from him now, as she ever had.

Some of the performers back in the circus would do it. The circus would hardly be around longer than a couple of days in the small towns before moving on again, and it was easy enough to find a like-minded stranger for the night, though Aerie never had. To share so much with someone when you barely knew more than their name; it had always seemed like such a hollow thing…

'Aerie?'

She jumped as firm hands stroked lightly along her bare arms. She had not heard him get up and she was suddenly very glad of her hair, coursing down her back and hiding the scars she knew still twisted her shoulders. She turned to him, Haer'Dalis stood before her smiling warmly, hair now tied back and half-dressed in breeches and shirt, a narrow sliver of pale chest still visible between the linen panes.

'Ah, my love, you look so beautiful in the morn light.'

He leaned in to kiss her and she could not help but take a step back, the man before her straightening with a frown, though he seemed more concerned than angry.

'What is it? What is wrong?' A look that seemed more resignation than query veiled his eyes, 'Do you now regret what has passed between us?'

Aerie swallowed, turning her gaze inward; well, did she?

'No,' she answered after a pause and was glad to finally feel the truth of it, steeling herself as she continued, 'I- I was just thinking about your scars…'

'My scars?' he repeated, a hand moving unconsciously to his cheek, clearly bewildered.

'Yes, where they came from, when you got them, why they are there. You said once that only in the present can we truly love, but- but it is not enough. I would have all of you, Haer'Dalis, all that you were as well as all that we will have.'

'Ah, and my scars represent that do they not, my dove?' he confirmed quietly, 'A scene from my past for you to study in attempts to make sense of the whole work. Very well. My scars were given to me by my mother.'

'Your mother?' Aerie repeated, no less than astounded, Haer'Dalis sending her a wry smile.

'Yes, everyone must have one, why should this sparrow be any different? Here, I've a sketch of her some- ah, there,' he announced blithely, moving to snatch up the folio from his bag and flicking through the pages to finally show her a picture of a thin elven woman, dark-eyed and pale, draped in a flowing red gown with an elaborate chaos of tattoos twisting up her left arm.

'She was an interesting woman to look at if nothing else.' Haer'Dalis continued casually, running a critical eye over the picture himself. 'My mother was an artist by trade and a member of the Society of Sensation, a faction that believes life must be experienced to be understood. She would spend her days in the studio painting and sculpting, mind dulled or sharpened to differing degrees by the myriad of drugs she would take to inspire her work. And in the evenings, her house was open to any who wished to come and enrich the collective experience. She was forever holding parties where she and likeminded friends could talk about art and philosophy while they drank and took other substances to alter their perceptions of reality and open themselves to new experiences. I was initially planned to be one of her greatest pieces: a living masterwork of the macabre, a grotesque mix of the mundane and the infernal.'

Haer'Dalis smiled slightly. 'Poor woman. She mated with a demon hoping for a monstrosity that would stand apart in even Sigil's twisted streets, and all she got was a child with blue hair. She was disappointed to say the least, but no more than any other artist would be. She often likened it to opening the kiln to find the impassioned sculpture she had put so much hope and energy into shattered by the firing.'

'That- that's awful, I…' Aerie gasped, unable to put the pity she felt into words. But the man merely shrugged mildly.

'As for my scars, she called me to her once when I was young, though even at that early age I could see the clouded stupor of black lotus in her eyes. She was holding the pottery knife she used in her clay work. She told me not to cry, that she was going to make an artwork of me.'

Aerie watched as his eyes took on a distant look, as though he was far away. She laid a hand gently upon his arm, her voice quiet.

'Haer'Dalis, I am so sorry.'

The bard shook his head, bringing himself from this private reverie with a frown.

'Sorry? Why be sorry? It has happened and now it is in the past. All things are born to decay and end, my dove; innocence fades, destroyed by experience of the world. Come,' he continued with a smile, lightly brushing off her hand and moving back to the bed to gather up his tunic, 'the others birds are up and singing, we should be as well.'

Aerie stood by the window watching as he finished dressing. She had often thought she had suffered in her lot, but at least she had been brought up in a loving environment, old enough to have the strength to deal with her tortures when the time came for her to face the trials the Fates had sent her. She tried to imagine growing up in that house full of strangers to a mother who only saw you as a disappointment at best. Perhaps if she had, she too would try to see such loss as something to celebrate…

xxx

Haer'Dalis shifted under his pack, legs aching dully, eyes staring unfocused at the back of Cernd's head, the druid just ahead of him as the group marched west. There had been a pause in their pace a few moments back to ford a small river swollen by the rains, but now they were trudging along once more as they made their return to the city.

The day had seemed to go quickly, though he did not know whether it was just the fact the days were shorter now or because he had been dwelling on the previous night. He had believed it when Aerie had told him she loved him, but he wondered now whether that wasn't more due to wishful thinking on his part. That morning she had been so distant, reluctant to even let him kiss her. Was it just another bout of her usual shyness after a deepening of their intimacy or a sign of something more? Haer'Dalis bit back an angry sigh. Love was such a simple thing, why did relationships have to be so complicated? He never should have agreed to stay that night, but he had so longed to be close to her.

And then Aerie had turned inquisitor, pressing him in to telling her of things he felt were best left forgotten and he could still recall her pitying look as he had related the tale she had so begged for. Haer'Dalis shook his head. She had tried to talk to him again when they first quit the town, still all soft voice and sympathy, but he was in no mood for it and she had grown tired of his coolness in the end. He glanced ahead to where she was now walking next to Cernd, though she was not talking to him or anyone else, the girl seemingly sad in herself since his rejection. She would never understand; he had known that before he had even begun his account.

Haer'Dalis did not hate his mother. She had just been a woman after all, pursuing life as she had wished to live it; something he could respect, now. No, he did not hate his mother, but he did hate thinking about her, about all the things she had opened his mind to. His past had made him the person he was now and he was happy enough in himself not to regret it; growing up around creative intelligent people with a mother who understood the importance of such things, he had been more fortunate than most in Sigil. But at the same time, it had been hard growing up as he had: the futile project of a woman who had better works to inspire her, but who still felt obligated to finish that one now she had started it.

Haer'Dalis shook his head, angry he could not seem to stop dwelling on it. The past was past, done and gone, and he would not change it even if he could. He pulled his mind away forcibly, letting it drift to take in the sensations about him; the sharp air on his face, the rhythmic thud of seven pairs of feet, the faint melodic trilling of a voice in song…

Haer'Dalis glanced behind him to where Fritha was bringing up the back of the group alone, the girl absently singing a Calimshite song to herself, her sword across her shoulders, arms draped carelessly over it. Even Haer'Dalis was enough of a traveller to know it was dangerous to walk over uneven ground so and it seemed he was not alone in this thought, Jaheira pausing at their head, turning back to check on the progress of those following, the woman shouting back to her.

'Really, Fritha, must you lumber after us so? You're carrying that sword like a yoke.'

'Aye and it feels like one too, some days,' the girl called back, making no attempt to hide the bitterness to her voice, 'Besides, it doesn't hang properly from my belt; it's too long, it keeps tangling about my legs.'

'Well, then you should have bought a new one from Trademeet,' said Jaheira matter-of-factly as she turned to resume her path and Haer'Dalis felt himself smile. Soon…

'Ignore her, my raven,' he ordered genially as the girl caught up to him, still struggling the fasten the scabbard back at her belt, 'and go back to that pretty little tune you were humming.'

Fritha glanced up from her work looking slightly embarrassed.

'You could hear me? It was the last one the djinn played before they left.' She laughed ruefully. 'The music in my heart I bore, long after it was heard no more.'

Haer'Dalis sent her a kind smile.

'And must it die now our friends are back in Calimshan? No, no, my raven, music lives eternal in the hearts of those that appreciate it. Why there are pieces I have not heard for years now –do you know of the Arborean Rhapsody? The genius of that violin arrangement; I swear, the dead themselves would rise to hear it.'

He glanced to Fritha, the girl suddenly beaming as she no doubt heard it playing behind her eyes.

'Oh, and that bit with the tambourine!'

'Yes, my raven! Have you seen it danced? I saw a lovely aasimar girl perform it once; she swung back her head and made her hair tremble beautifully at that part, as though every lock was rattling. And theMet Jaawai is another fine one to see danced.'

Fritha sighed, a wistful smile pulling at her mouth.

'Oh, I love the start to that, especially when the pipes come in; they make me think of birds flying.'

'A song for birds' flight?'

Haer'Dalis glanced ahead to where Cernd looking back at them, smiling mildly, Aerie at his side and looking apprehensive.

'Is it not enough joy just to watch them? How could one capture such soaring delight?'

The druid had clearly meant his comment as a kindly one, perhaps hoping to join their discussion upon it, but Haer'Dalis was not inclined to be welcoming at the moment, especially not where the druid was concerned.

'I am sure you would not speak so if you heard it, my good druid,' Haer'Dalis countered, his genial laugh holding a brittle quality he could not quite suppress, 'I recall you saying you have seen theJaawai performed, my dove; how did you find it?'

Aerie flushed, glancing from him to the druid.

'Oh, well, I can't really remember.'

Haer'Dalis smiled.

'Well, perhaps a quick rendition then, to recall it to you. My raven?'

Fritha shook her head, her previous enthusiasm clearly ebbed away by their subtle hostilities and the bard felt a twinge of guilt.

'Perhaps later, Haer'Dalis.'

'Here,' announced Jaheira at their head as they stepped into a small clearing, 'this place will serve. Not too far from the stream and the trees are growing close enough that they should shelter us from the worst of the weather. Now, we will need some water-'

'I'll go,' Fritha offered, not waiting for a reply as she dropped her cloak and bag at the foot of the nearest tree and stooped to untie the old iron pot from the back of Jaheira's pack before sloping off out of the clearing.

xxx

Fritha moved through the trees, the handle of the water-heavy pot cutting into her hand, though she kept her pace deliberately slow, unwilling to hurry only to slop icy water down her leg. That day had been hard, the hours of walking giving her too much time to brood, though it seemed that was something she was not alone in, more than half the group as silent and sullen as she had been. Anomen was more than likely worrying about the judgement that awaited him back in the city, but as for Aerie and Haer'Dalis, she was less sure. Perhaps another quarrel? In her present mood, Fritha was finding it very hard to care.

She weaved her way slowly past the last few trees to find the camp deserted, tender flames licking about the small bundle of sticks in the newly dug firepit and she wondered if the others hadn't gone in search of more wood. Fritha sighed, setting the pot down next to the fire and trudging back over to her belongings with half a thought of doing some reading, though it died the instant she moved her cloak, the familiar azure blue enamel of a scabbard she knew as well as her own hand lain innocently underneath. She crouched down, almost expecting it to disappear as she reached out to take it up, the hilt snug in her grip as she drew the blade; it was no trick, this was it, her old sword…

'Is something wrong, my lady? You look flushed.'

Fritha started, standing to whirl about and feeling strangely nervous as she offered the blade up to the man behind her.

'Anomen, did you buy this for me?'

Anomen stared down at the sword in her hands, colour creeping into his cheeks as he recognised it and he abruptly turned his face away.

'No, I did not… And-' he continued, turning sharply back to her, suddenly livid, 'I will warrant the one who did acquire it for you, did not buy it either.'

'What? Now don't you think you're jumping to conclusions a bit?'

'Anyone who had bought it would have presented you with it straight away, before we left Trademeet. Of course, this could not be done if the sword was not supposed to be in our possession.'

Fritha bristled at the truth of it.

'Well, if that's your reasoning then why not ask the question you want to anyway: who among us would steal it? And don't bother answering, I know of whom you speak!'

Anomen shook his head, his voice calmer as he continued.

'He cannot be allowed to indulge in such casual larceny, my lady.'

'If it was stolen.'

'Fritha, really!' snapped Anomen, his temper clearly getting the better of him once more in the face of her stubbornness, 'You cannot truly believe otherwise?'

'Well, I'm certainly not going to accuse him of it without even asking him!'

And with that Fritha turned on her heel and stormed off.

She, of course, had no idea of where the bard had gone though. She walked about the nearby forests for a while, letting herself calm down and she was about to start back to the camp when she heard it: the faint melodic strains of a harp.

Haer'Dalis closed his eyes, leaning back against the broad rough trunk and letting the music drift about him as he sat at the foot of the huge oak he'd found and absently played his lyre to himself. It was not a difficult tune and his fingers knew the notes without any thought from him, the familiarity of it soothing, helping to diffuse the frustration of the day.

'Haer'Dalis…'

Haer'Dalis glanced up at the sound, seeing a familiar head of copper curls peering about the trunk behind him and he smiled, leaving the instrument on the ground as he rose to beckon her closer.

'Ah, you found it then,' he grinned, gesturing to the sword in her hand, his smile fading in the face of her melancholy look. 'What is wrong, my raven, it is the correct one, is it not?'

'Yes… and please don't think I am ungrateful for saying this, but how did you come by it?'

Haer'Dalis smiled again.

'I am glad you asked me, my raven, for it was quite a clever ruse of mine, even if I do say so myself. I merely bought another sword, some beaten up old thing, worthless as a Carcerian's promise, and I put an illusion upon it to look as your own infinitely finer blade and returned to the stall to slyly exchange them. I imagine the illusion will have worn off by now. Ha, that I could have seen that merchant's face when he realises.'

'Oh, Haer'Dalis,' Fritha sighed wearily, scrubbing a hand across her face, the bard quite at a loss as to the source of her melancholy and stepping closer to let a hand hover over her back.

'Fritha, what troubles you so? You surely don't feel sorry for that cross-trading berk? Not after what he did.'

She sighed again, shaking her head distractedly.

'No, I don't feel particularly sorry for him. And I am happy to get it back, truly. But Anomen just caught me with it and he guessed straight away you had acquired it by less than honest methods,' she sent him a rueful smile, 'he isn't very happy.'

Haer'Dalis felt a familiar loathing stirring in his heart, darkness surging from it with every beat.

'That arrogant screed! Just wait until I speak with him!'

'Oh, please don't!' Fritha cried, her sudden distress alarming to see, 'I don't think I could stand another argument right now…' She shook her head, dipping her face and Haer'Dalis had the horrible feeling she was trying to not to cry.

'There now, my raven,' he soothed after a moment, his anger ebbing as he gently patted her shoulder, the girl's voice quiet and wavering as she tried to explain herself.

'It's just ever since Nalia's been gone… Oh, it's like a hole has opened in my heart. Missing her, it's like missing a part of myself. I haven't felt this bad since Imoen was first taken…' She trailed off and he heard her draw a deep breath and release it slowly, the girl dabbing at her eyes with the corner of her sleeve before she seemed to feel she could face him again, 'I'm sorry, Haer'Dalis, I shouldn't be burdening you with this; I know you have your own troubles. You would have to be blind not to see you and Aerie are not on the best of terms at the moment.'

Haer'Dalis tutted at her, giving her shoulder a friendly slap.

'Do not be foolish, it is a burden I bear gladly if it lightens your heart any. As for the dove, she and I are…' He trailed off, unable to explain what he himself did not understand. Haer'Dalis sighed, feeling anew the directionless melancholy that had been hanging over him all day. 'Ah, listen to us both, like two petitioners to the Grey Wastes. No, no more of this. Come, my raven!' he ordered, taking her free hand and spinning her around, making to lead her in a quick jig, 'You and I were not made to brood.'

'Haer'Dalis!' she cried, though he was glad to hear a hint of laughter to her voice as well, 'Haer'Dalis, stop it; you're making me dizzy!'

He spun her again and she nearly tripped, and he stopped to let her catch her breath, the girl dipping her head to rest her forehead against his shoulder, their hands still entwined though their dance had ended.

Haer'Dalis closed his eyes. He felt suddenly light-headed as well. She seemed very close, the damp decaying forest about them suddenly perfumed with the faint scent of her hair, and he could not help but think back to how it had been Aerie who had once seemed the warm one, and it had been Fritha he had labelled the cold fish.

A rustle of bracken behind them and Fritha straightened instantly, the pair whirling to see Anomen stood at the foot of the huge oak staring at them. Silence held the three, Fritha looking from him to the squire, her cheeks scarlet before-

'What's that? Oh, coming, Jaheira!'

She was gone in an instant, leaving the two men just glaring at each other. Haer'Dalis broke first, the man crouching to pack away his lyre as though nothing had happened and Anomen swallowed, each word clipped as he tried to keep his temper.

'So, you have reunited Fritha with her sword.'

The tiefling straightened and turned to face him with such a ferocity that Anomen had to check himself from taking a step back.

'Yes, I have, without shame or regret! And, might I say here that if you have issue with anything I do in the future, I suggest you come and speak to me about it, rather than berating the only young women I know with enough patience to stand more than two words discourse with you! I took that sword to cheer her, but what good is it if you turn the prize into a penance.'

Anomen felt his jaw tighten. Truth be told, he was as angry that Haer'Dalis had been insightful enough to have even thought of returning her sword to her, as he was that the bard had stolen the thing.

'Oh, yes, I can see well how you are trying to cheer Fritha. Though, for a man who is supposedly sworn to another, your noble endeavour isfamiliarly borne to say the least.'

Haer'Dalis looked furious, but even that couldn't hide the flash of panic in his eyes; the man was rattled.

'One day,' the bard began after a pause, his voice slow and measured, 'when you are fully grown, you will understand that relationships are rarely easy and never simple. And I would look to your own feelings for her, knightling, before you go and lay judgement upon mine and Fritha's relations.'

'My feelings for her?' Anomen repeated, his face suddenly impossibly hot, 'If you are insinuating what I think, then you are quite mistaken! She is nothing but a silly young woman, too interested in- in romance novels and dancing! And I feel nothing for her but a brotherly concern for her welfare –especially at your hands!'

But Haer'Dalis chose to ignore this last comment, confirming only, 'You truly feel as such? Well, that is for the best I should imagine. Fritha is too bright a soul to be ruined by your chivalric fumblings. She needs affection of a warmer source.'

'Likeyou?'

Haer'Dalis merely gave a genial laugh, his eyes narrow behind the gesture.

'Indeed, no. My heart lies elsewhere, as well you know. But it was something I was considering the other day: a good match for our matchless leader. A name you should approve of did come to mind, in fact. Your friend, the Squire Simon; she seemed quite taken with him when they met.'

Anomen fought down a surge of jealousy. Fritha had not mentioned Simon outside the day she had met him and since the girl had been renowned lately for chattering on about romance to anyone who would stand still long enough, Anomen doubted she held any affection for his friend, the tiefling was merely trying to stir up trouble.

'Indeed, you think so?' he confirmed though gritted teeth, 'I will have to make an effort to get them better acquainted.'

'Of course, my hound; I will be sure to remind you.'

The bard smiled, broad and slow, and Anomen did not doubt it.

xxx

Jaheira sat giving the stew before her the occasional stir and the tea next to her the occasional sip as she watched the camp about her. She had returned some time ago from collecting more wood to find Minsc, Aerie and Cernd and her old iron pot full of water, Fritha clearly making it back from the river though where she had disappeared to after that the druid could not have guessed. It had hardly concerned her though and she had busied herself, setting the others to peeling vegetables while she had stoked up the fire and prepared the tea.

Fritha was sat quietly opposite her now, studying her odes at Minsc's suggestion, the ranger sat close by. Jaheira wondered if he too had noticed her agitation when she had finally arrived back, the girl pink and distracted, her hand clutching a very familiar sword though Jaheira had kept her comments about that to a minimum, her displeasure saved for the one who had actually stolen it.

Jaheira felt a stab of irritation and let her attention wander to the camp's other pair, Cernd trying to start a conversation with a very reluctant Aerie, the girl barely answering him as she embroidered listlessly. Jaheira watched him sigh and take a dispirited mouthful of tea, the druid finally giving up on trying to engage the elf, it seemed. He had been the same all day, trying to make idle chatter as they'd walked and not just with Aerie either, though it seemed no one had been in the mood for talk.

'So, Fritha, you are studying Rashemi?' began Cernd genially, clearly not willing to give up just yet and turning his attention to the girl. 'You plan to visit the Eastern Lands?'

Fritha shrugged.

'Certainly, if I get the chance, though that's not the reason I study it. Languages and the way people speak are a reflection of their culture. And if nothing else, learning other languages is useful.' She smiled absently, 'Eriyn told me he could ask for directions to the nearest brothel in fifteen different languages.'

Cernd choked on his tea.

'She's joking,' Aerie assured him with a slight smile.

'She'snot,' countered Fritha, not sparing either of them a glance as she went back to her book, frowning as she continued the passage.

'Dasch Svet. The something man. Minsc, dasch? Namit lek?'

'Anomen arit na.'

'What is this? You are speaking of me?' asked Anomen as he stepped into the clearing. Aerie looked up quickly as though expecting to see Haer'Dalis arrive behind him, but the man did not come and she turned rather dejectedly back to her sewing.

'I'm studying this ode but I've just come across a word I don't know,' Fritha continued, 'Anomen met'sv?' she asked, the ranger nodding once and she returned her attention to Anomen, 'He's says it only pertains to you.' Fritha turned back to Minsc with a slight frown. 'Squire mi?

The ranger laughed and shook his head.

'Nyt.'

She paused again, clearly thinking it over when-

'Ah,strongmi!'she exclaimed eagerly, barely noticing the squire as he flushed scarlet, but Minsc merely shook his head looking slightly affronted.

'Minsc mo arit na.'

Fritha laughed, putting up her hands in a placating gesture.

'Fyit, Minsc. Jaaa, dasch… dasch…,' she glanced to Anomen again and suddenly smiled, 'Beard mi! It means the bearded man!'

Everyone laughed, Minsc the loudest of all as he gave her back a congratulatory slap.

'Ket! Ket! Hasit ki'svae!'

'What's this?' came a voice above them, Jaheira turning with the others to see the tiefling finally return to camp. 'Are we speaking in tongues? I would welcome any opportunity to brush up on my Abyssal.'

'Haer'Dalis,' cried Aerie, the girl eagerly laying down her sewing as she greeted him.

'Yes, it is the sparrow himself,' Haer'Dalis confirmed though without his usual buoyancy as he took his place in the circle. Aerie frowned slightly, the change in his manner clearly worrying her.

'Where have you been? It's almost dark.'

He sent her a gentle look.

'There is no more to fear in the darkness than there is in the light, my dove. I know, for a fact,' he continued in a voice that carried, almost as though he was issuing a challenge as he turned to her with a grim smile, 'Jaheira's temper will not be lessened any in either illumination now she has found out about this sparrow'scontemptible larceny.'

Jaheira felt her eyes narrow.

'I am glad you find something worthy of jest in all this. Your actions may well have ruined our good standing with the peoples of that town.'

Haer'Dalis feigned a distressed look.

'Do you imagine they will pull down our statue?'

'Gods, we can only hope,' muttered Fritha, 'Anyway, no more of this. It is done now and there is nothing we can do. Besides, no one can prove for sure it was us and to return it now would only confirm we took the sword to start with.'

'I would not ask you to!' Jaheira snapped, turning her dark glare back on the bard, 'But such things should not happen in the first instance.'

Haer'Dalis held up his hands in a placating gesture, his voice edged with a bitterness she rarely heard from him.

'No, no, I have already been shown the error of my ways by the squire. It is a foolish man who tries to keep the Primes from their melancholy. Things meant to alleviate it seem only to bring it tenfold. Indeed, I should be pleased you've all taken the first steps towards accepting the true ways of the multiverse.'

Aerie frowned slightly.

'What do you mean, the true ways of the multiverse?'

Haer'Dalis smiled at her.

'That all things, friendships, lives, even worlds, are destined to end in destruction and tragedy.'

The elf drew in a sharp breath, as though his words had hurt her.

'How can you say that? If that were the case then why start anything? Though I will admit terrible things do happen, there is always hope, that things will be better, that one day all people will live together without such suffering.'

The tiefling laughed mildly, and Jaheira had the impression he was almost amused by her desperate optimism.

'Hope? Even hope is eroded, my dove. All things break down, over time and all things come to an end.'

'But-'

'Oh, let him be, Aerie,' cut in Fritha dully, the girl finally laying down her book with a sigh, giving up on getting any more work done, 'who is to say it isn't so? To live is to know you will eventually die; no one here can deny that.'

Across the camp, Cernd nodded his agreement.

'Yes, death is, indeed, part of the natural cycle, but it is a cycle that is continuous. Your death will enable the life of other creatures.'

'Aye, the sod who shived me for one,' laughed Fritha and the squire flushed.

'Fritha!'

Cernd ignored them both though, calmly turning back to the tiefling.

'Nature's cycle, and life with it, goes on; unchanging and eternal.'

Haer'Dalis merely shook his head.

'Believe what you will, druid. It is entropy, not life, which is the natural order of the multiverse.'

'So what should we do then, just all lay down and die right now?' snapped Aerie shrilly.

'On the contrary, my dove, one must live to assist the multiverse in attaining its goal. As a Doomguard, I live to embrace such destruction, to cheer its advance and hasten it where I can.'

Minsc frowned, though it looked more as though he was slowly trying to make sense of the tiefling's argument than that he was angered by it.

'The destruction of some things, evil things: yes, Boo can see this is to be cheered. But everything?'

'Aye, everything, my mad hound. Only when all things cease to exist can perfection finally be attained, all flaws blotted out in nothingness.'

'See, he's holding out for a happy ending,' quipped Fritha wryly. Jaheira sighed; the girl was hardly helping.

'So you are saying that- that wars and- and plagues are a good thing?' cried Aerie. Two pink spots were rising on her cheeks, her small white hands balled into fists. Cernd looked concerned.

'Aerie?'

The girl barely spared him a glance

'But look at the grief such things leave in their wake! Such death and misery! No one should accept that!'

'She is right,' agreed Anomen firmly and, thankfully, calmly, 'Such horrors must be fought at all costs.'

Haer'Dalis merely shook his head again.

'Only through death and destruction is rebirth possible, my birds. 'Tis the natural way of things.'

'It'snot natural to cheer on it,' snapped Aerie, 'to hasten the process! You have to fight against that kind of evil!'

The tiefling sent her a mild look.

'And who says such a process is evil?'

Aerie seemed to swell where she was sat, mouthing silently though others were not so afflicted.

'I do,' snapped Anomen, looking far less calm now, 'As does any being with a shred of decency in their hearts!'

Jaheira sighed, giving the pot before her another stir. The stew looked to be about ready and this had all gone quite far enough.

'That's it, enough now, all of you.'

Anomen whirled to her. 'My lady, surely you are not defending him!'

Jaheira sent him a quelling look

'I am not saying I agree, I am not saying I do not. What I am saying is that our dinner is ready and I, for one, wish to eat it in peace.'

It was to a background of sullen muttering and dark looks that the meal was served, the evening that followed one of the quietest they had shared in along while.