Disclaimer: I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. 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

For Baldur's Fan, who kept the faith.

Full circle

It was not much later when more guards arrived and their group was escorted deeper into the forest to finally come upon a military encampment, groups of elves gathered about the scattered tents, all well-armed and bearing the same wary scowl as their eyes followed their passage, the guards at last bringing them to a halt before a large pavilion of green canvas, two blond elves in grave discussion at its mouth.

'General, we have brought the prisoners.'

'Prisoners?' repeated Valygar coolly. The elves ignored him, the younger of the pair letting his gaze fall upon Solaufein and not bothering to hide his disgust.

'I see it was as I suspected: collaborators, General, what else could they be who would willingly travel with such filth?'

'Do not speak of-' Jaheira's defence was cut short as the young elf threw a finger at Fritha.

'Indeed, look, that one even wears their ornaments.'

Fritha was suitably conciliatory. 'My tunic's Calimshite linen; do you assume I am allied to that people, as well?'

'Stand down, Sergeant,' interrupted the older elf tiredly, the light from the torches glinting on his finely etched breast plate, 'she is correct; though worrying, such things prove little. Welcome, I am General Sovalidaas and I would have you know now, I do not trust you and I have no reason to do so yet, though that may soon change… I have little time to waste upon you, but my scouts said you arrived from the depths and I merely wished to see if the darkness of that place was in your eyes… I am undecided.'

Fritha merely shrugged. 'Oh, I'm sure it is there, though through little fault of the drow. Now, do you plan to tell us what this is about?'

'No,' the elf answered promptly, eyes catching something behind them and Jaheira turned to see a tall elf of white blond hair and noble bearing making his approach, two robed elves flanking him. 'Ah, here comes his Highness. Now we will find the truth in this. Prince Elhan has experience of the enemy and is well versed in matters of interrogation.'

'I've had more than a little experience of it myself,' muttered Fritha.

'So, these are the newcomers, General,' came the commanding and unusually deep voice as the Prince finally arrived.

'That they are, your Highness,' Sovalidaas answered promptly, both he and the sergeant raising their hands in respectful salute. Elhan nodded, eyes quickly assessing their company, before a shrewd smile was twisting his mouth.

'Well, I thank you for coming-'

'Do not waste your pleasantries on us,' snapped Fritha, 'we were given little choice. Now, who are you and what do you want?'

Elhan raised a cool eyebrow. 'Exactly the question I was going to put to you, though I am in a better position to make demands, I think.'

Fritha snorted darkly. 'We'll see.'

Jaheira felt her stomach groan, wondering how long before her keeping solidarity with Fritha and the girl's temper would get them all killed. Elhan thankfully chose to ignore her last comment though, the elf all business as he continued succinctly, 'I shall keep this brief and a few questions are all I need, regardless; you will speak what you know and my sages will detect any falsehood. Now then, something simple to begin with: you emerged from the Underdark, were you fleeing the drow or are you, in fact, in league with them?'

'Oh for-! We don't have time for this!' Fritha shouted, 'Where are Bodhi and Irenicus? Are they still within your city?'

'You will answer our questions!' snapped Sovalidaas.

'Gods help me! I did not fight my way through the Underdark all for the whim of that bitch of a dragon, so I can be delayed here by you! Where are Bodhi and Irenicus?'

'What do you want of them?' demanded Elhan. Fritha looked wild.

'To kill them! What else?'

The prince snapped his attention to the nearest sage. 'Does she speak the truth?'

The two elves shared a blank look, one shaking his head while the other offered nervously, 'I- I cannot tell, your Highness.'

'Hells' teeth!' shrieked Fritha. Elhan whipped back to them, a finger flung to the only elf of their company.

'You! Confirm her words!'

'It's true,' agreed Aerie, 'It's all true, we aren't here to fight you; we just need to find them.'

A glance to the sages to see their nods, and Elhan sighed, at last calmed. 'I see… Then whoever you are, we are on the same side in this, at least.'

'Good,' snapped Fritha, 'Now where are they?'

'Irenicus battles the remaining forces of Suldanessellar even now.'

'Then why are you here?' asked Jaheira, 'The drow are no longer a threat; those parties most eager for war are no longer in favour within their city.'

Sovalidaas nodded. 'Indeed, we noticed their forces were recalled some time ago; reports reaching us that whatever had bound the great silver guardian from her usual duties had been lifted. It was only when we made to return, we discovered Irenicus's greatest crime: Suldanessellar is gone.'

A sharp intake of breath about her, Minsc voicing their dismay. 'Such evil, to destroy an entire city!'

But Elhan was grimly shaking his head. 'No, it is not destroyed, thanks be -at least, not yet. But Irenicus has used his magics to seal and hide the city from us. I now believe the drow's attack on the temple ruins was merely to lure us out here, that we would leave the city weakened, ready for his infiltration.'

'You speak only of Irenicus,' pressed Fritha, 'where is his sister in all this?'

'I could not say, but…' the prince trailed off, glancing to the general, some spark of understanding passing between them as he continued slowly, 'Within the temple ruins was kept an artefact of great power: the Rhynn Lanthorn. It is attuned to the city; we could simply walk past the seals had we possession of it. The relic was stolen when the temple fell to the drow. We have been unable to divine its location with any accuracy since, but believe it lies in the far north west of here, somewhere within the human territories.'

Anomen nodded. 'Bodhi holds a stronghold in Athkatla. If Irenicus planned to seal the city all along, he must have known this relic could break it. It would have made sense that Bodhi be sent off with the object in her care.'

'So much trouble though…' sighed Aerie, 'what brought Irenicus here to begin with? We know he seeks great power, but outside of that…'

Elhan said nothing, the general offering after a slight pause, 'We could not say, we know only as much as you in this. The attack came without warning, born in the mind of one who is not known to us.'

The young sergeant snorted his anger. 'He dealt with drow, defiled the temple and brought war to our city! He is all we elves are not; the shame he has brought us is intolerable!'

'Shame?' repeated Haer'Dalis shrewdly, 'What shame for you is there in the flights of a bird outside your flock?'

The elf flushed scarlet. 'Well, only that we were unable to defend against him.'

Fritha glanced to the two sages. 'You want to confirm that?' She snorted at their unnerved expressions. 'Thought not. Right,' she sighed, turning back to the prince, 'we are tired to say the least. We will rest here, restock our supplies and set out for Athkatla with the high sun.'

'Wait,' Sovalidaas stalled as they turned to go, 'I fear this is not the last of it. What of your dark ally there?'

'Solaufein? What of him?' Imoen frowned, the man himself edging forward a step as he finally spoke up.

'I understand my presence here may cause some disquiet within you, but be assured I am a follower of Eilistraee and have long been awaiting a chance to leave my people for the surface.'

Elhan did not seem unsympathetic to his plight, even as he shook his head.

'That may well as be, but I fear I cannot let you just leave here; the recovery of the Lanthorn is paramount to our city's survival. If you were to betray us-'

'So what do you expect?' snapped Fritha, 'Us to just surrender him to you as a prisoner?'

'Well, that would be one option,' conceded Sovalidaas, 'though there is another. You may leave with them, drow, if you agree to be subject to a geas which will ensure your loyalty to our cause until such a time as you return with the Lanthorn.'

Valygar snorted crossly. 'More fell magics?'

And it seemed for once he and Aerie were in agreement, the girl glancing warily back and forth between the two men as she murmured, 'A geas? I am not so sure…'

Fritha was, though. 'If there is any truly evil magic in the Realms, then it is a geas; to take away someone's free will, it is worse than taking their soul.'

Solaufein turned from her to address the two elves in common far politer than any of they would have likely afforded their soon-to-be jailors.

'I would rather not put myself at the mercy of such powerful magics.'

Elhan nodded once. 'Then it is decided; you will remain here. You understand you will not be allowed the same freedoms given the rest of my warriors, but your stay will be tolerable. Arvden- the amulet,' the prince commanded, the sage to his left hastening to pull the heavy gold pendant from his pocket. 'Here,' Elhan continued, hooking the necklace over Fritha's outstretched palm, 'this relic is attuned to the temple ruins. Use it once you have the Lanthorn and it will transport you back here at once. I need not tell you that time is of the essence.'

Imoen snorted. 'Oh, you're more right that you know.'

They left the elves there, Fritha leading them to a clearing on the edge of the elves' encampment to make a camp of their own, a couple of soldiers arriving with tents, rations and other supplies not long afterwards.

Fritha leaned back against the broad trunk behind her, feeling the uneven pattern of bark through her tunic, the roots about her forming a twisted throne as she gazed out across the forest from her lofty perch, a steep bank falling away at her side, down to a river she could hear rather than see. The sun was risen, but only barely, the light mist that suffused in the forest a warm gold under its glow and she could see the disk of it through the haze. It was strange seeing it so clearly, that great burning sphere usually too bright to look upon, now so small and perfectly round, no bigger than a winter moon; such a small thing of such abundant importance.

She could hardly believe it was nearly the close of Hammer; they had been away from the city for over a month and her thoughts turned to her theatre, one of the few things of permanence left within her life. Were they doing well, still performing the Sorcerer's Bane? Or had they moved on to something else by now, her theatre the playground of some foreign troupe while her own players rehearsed some new drama. She hoped Higgold had recalled his promise regarding their next endeavour –she had had enough of tragedies.

Fritha leaned further back, letting her head loll against the rough bark. She was tired. She had been so filled, so alive with the burning desire to get them all out alive, she had not realised how exhausted it had left her. Down there, in the darkness, it had felt like an act, all feelings suppressed by the mask she had worn. But here in her own form she realised how little there was left within –just an empty yawning hole, more of her slipping away each moment and she could feel it stirring behind her senses, just waiting for its time: the essence.

And that is why we should be finding a way to get in that city!

'We are, but Bodhi holds the key to-'

Ha! Don't try and fob me off with that! You'd have had them go after Bodhi whatever Elhan had said!

There was no use in denying it, and the idea had been occupying her thoughts ever since the elves had told her. She had crawled from the Underdark with just enough rage and will left to fight the pair, but it seemed their encounter was not to be just yet –perhaps even at all… Bodhi would be killed a world away from Irenicus –if not for her soul, was there any need for her to face him at all?

There is every need! He has your soul! We've spoken of this before -another fortnight and you'll be dead!

'So?'

So? SO? Why, you-! Do you want to lose yourself to that creature? Do you want to die, murdered by your own companions? We must fight against it! We must get your soul back!

'Shush, give me some peace, all right?' she sighed tiredly, 'We can talk later.'

She felt the disgruntled mutter growl through her mind and then all fell silent once more, Fritha turning from the forest to let her attention drift to the others, her companions further back from the edge and busy about the small camp. It was harder to see them in their own forms once more, the looks of distress much easier to bear on faces she did not recognise; she was likely the first person to have ever felt so, but the Underdark had made her soft.

Aerie stood gazing about at the forest and clearly enjoying the sunshine, Haer'Dalis moving to wrap her in a cloak's embrace, the man leaning in to whisper something at her ear that made her smile. Anomen and Jaheira were further back still, looking over some maps the elves had gifted to them, Minsc nearby and dividing his attention between them and Boo who was scurrying about the grass. Valygar was standing on the other side of the fire, performing the stretches of his archery practise and distracting Imoen, the girl knelt by the firepit stirring the steeping tea, Solaufein knelt next to her and seemingly still trying to become accustomed to his new surroundings from the way he was gazing about them.

He had been allowed to stay in their company until the time they would depart, one of the elves who had arrived with their supplies, bringing a hat for him, shallow-crowned and wide-brimmed, as the farmers and shepherds often wore in the southern lands, the elf handing him a bundle of fine black mesh that was likely used to keep the insects from tents the warmer months and Aerie and Imoen had spent a moment helping him arrange it like a veil, though Fritha doubted even that would be enough to shield his eyes once the sun rose proper.

Solaufein glanced back to notice her watching them, his face unreadable beneath the veil, and Fritha was about to turn away when he was suddenly on his feet, approaching her with a cup of the just-brewed tea.

'Here,' he murmured, not waiting for an invitation as he sank down next to her, his back to the east as he folded back the veil, the pale grey eyes two pools of silver in the shadow of his hat.

Fritha muttered a 'thank you' and silence fell between them, the girl setting the tea untouched at her feet and turning her attention to her bag, removing her hairbrush, mirror and the small mother-of-pearl case in which her combs had first arrived. Next to her, Solaufein shifted, his gaze trained upon the company he had left as he observed, 'Your friends seem glad to leave Ust Natha behind, but you appear less happy.'

Fritha shrugged, moving her hands up to finally begin to take out her hair. 'The darkness was forgiving… there are things I must face in the light- pfst!'

He glanced back at her hiss, Phaere's tortures not so easily forgotten as she lifted her arms and the pain stabbed all through her back.

'Here, let me,' he murmured, hands already raised as though he would soothe the ache, the girl wrenching herself painfully out of reach.

'What- What are you doing? Why are you here?'

Solaufein did not look hurt. He did not look anything, his expression carefully neutral as he offered, 'I... if my company is unwelcome-'

Fritha sighed, tiredly plucking the combs from her hair and letting it fall about her tress by tress as she placed each neatly back within its case.

'Where you sit is quite beyond my care, Solaufein, but if you want to start building lasting alliances up here, then I suggest you go back to the rest of them, because I am on my way out.'

He frowned, clearly trying to translate the colloquialism. 'On your way… you are dying?'

'Yes.'

'That is it? You are dying, and that is that?'

Fritha smiled at his disbelief- hope was such a cruel thing.

'Well, I suppose there is a slight chance. If I can walk all the way back across Amn, kill a nest of vampires, get back here, enter an occupied city, fight my way through to Irenicus and retrieve my soul, then perhaps I may survive. So, yes, for all intents and purposes, I'm dying.'

He stared at her along while, his face shaded beneath the hat and heavy gathering of veil and when he spoke his voice was quiet.

'I- I am sorry for that.'

Fritha blinked once and turned away, his sincerity somehow making it worse.

'You know, you are the very first to have expressed such regret. For many it was lost in the worry at my sudden change in outlook.' She glanced to him with a wan smile. 'Let us just say that my recent performance in Ust Natha would have once been an act I would have found almost impossible to sustain. Some of the things I did…'

'I understand. There is much cruelty in that world –I, too, was forced to wear the mask and partake in much of it…'

But Fritha was shaking her head, the drawn smile back. 'Oh, do not mistake me, Solaufein. I am not ashamed of my actions -nor am I proud. I did what I did and that is that. Look at them,' she sighed, gesturing to the others as she finally took up her hairbrush, 'they wanted to crawl through the Underdark and emerge alive, as clean and beautiful as when they went in, like flowers sprouting from the ground. Someone had to get their hands dirty.'

He sent her a grave look. 'And what stains your hands, Fritha? I know of only Illithids and svirfneblin.'

'Oh, the list is much longer than that, but I am glad to say deep gnomes are not upon it.'

'But you-'

'Presented Phaere with a bloody helm, just as I presented her with your bloody cloak and we both know how dead you are.'

'You did not kill them?'

'No, because I did not have to. But I would have… had I had to. Just as I would have murdered you; just as I murdered Phaere… Are you sad I had to kill her?'

Solaufein shrugged, turning to play with the grass at his feet, letting the silken blades run through his long fingers.

'The Phaere I loved died long ago. When I knew you were to kill her I felt… relief and small amount of satisfaction too. It is hard, to have the woman whom you once loved torment you for a decade. I am no saint, Fritha, and there was much resentment in my heart, at first at Ardulace and the Handmaidens but over time, as I realised how Phaere had taken to her new role, it gradually began to focus upon her.'

Silence between them again, Fritha slowly stroking the brush through her frizzy curls, the chatter of the others mixing with the melodious murmur of the distant elves.

'So, what will you do here in our absence?'

Solaufein quirked a rare smile. 'I will try to aid our new allies and grow accustomed to this light.'

'Yes,' Fritha sighed, raising her face to the pale sky, 'the glare does take some endurance…'

Another long pause; Fritha's hair was all combed through, though she kept up her brushing as she waited for him to gather his final question.

'Fritha, why did you lie with me?'

'I told you: I'm dying -I didn't know whether a better opportunity would arrive.'

He watched her face a moment, before making his conclusion.

'You lie.'

She snorted. 'Constantly, but never to myself and that I think I should get some credit for that.'

'You are ashamed now?' he pressed curiously. Fritha blithely shook her head.

'Oh, no; of all the things I did in Ust Natha, you were the least disagreeable. Why do you seem so stuck upon this? It wasn't like I broke your duck or anything.'

'Broke my…' he repeated; that slang defying translation.

'What I mean is, it's not as though you hadn't done anything like that before.'

'No,' he conceded, looking almost embarrassed to continue, 'but with your reaction to me now… I do not like that idea that it was something done to maintain your act -that you were somehow unwilling…'

Fritha closed her eyes, her voice softer than she was used to hearing it as she sighed, 'Ah, well, then be assured, there were many instances down there that forced my hand, but that was not once of them.'

'I… am glad.'

'Fritha?'

Solaufein did not recognise the rest of his discourse as he turned to look up at the now tall, broad figure of Anomen, though the girl did not let the human continue long.

'Speak common, Anomen, we should oblige our guest.'

The man frowned, but heeded her. 'Fritha, your face, you should let someone tend those cuts.'

'They're fine,' the girl dismissed, taking up her mirror to give the three pink welts that still scored her cheek a detached appraisal.

'I have some salve here, Fritha.'

'I said, they're fine.'

'They could scar,' he pressed. She shrugged, lowering the mirror to go back to her brushing.

'Then they will scar. Besides, I rather like them; I look like I've got whiskers, and they go nicely with the star on my stomach.'

'The star?' repeated Solaufein, the girl nodding as she loosely tied back her bright copper mane.

'I got stabbed with a broken lance but a month back –the scar it left, a white starburst just above my hip.'

Solaufein thought it sounded rather pleasing, though the male above them was clearly not in agreement, Anomen's face twisted with a pained frown.

'Fritha, if you would-'

Fritha slammed her brush down onto the box with a resounding crack, the girl suddenly on her feet. 'Anomen, for the last time, please, just leave me alone!'

And she was gone, marching off through the trees, copper curls escaping with every angry step. Solaufein gazed up at the man she had left, Anomen staring after her with an unreadable look.

'I do not understand why you invite her ire.'

Anomen shrugged, eyes still trained on where she had been. 'Such would not have angered her before.'

'I understand she has changed, that she is not that woman anymore, but is who she has become so terrible? She is still strong and courageous, for all her sharpness. Can you not just accept her as she is?'

Anomen snorted humourlessly, but with so little effort it sounded more like a sigh. 'Accept her? You do not know of what you speak.'

'You loved her,' said Solaufein simply, Anomen whirling to him with a ferocious passion.

'We all loved her! You could not help it! She was like the sun, so bright and good, bathing everything around her in light! Now she is just all anger and hate and that gods-awful weary look she gets when she is too tired to muster either… like now.'

'What happened between the two of you?'

The man shook his head, loathed to recall it. 'One of my many faults is a tendency to let my temper rule my tongue. I said something, something unforgivable –not the first instance I have done so, but this time, she agreed with me. So I will continue to press my concerns upon her, because, selfish though it is, I prefer to see her spitting venom at me, than that drained look she gets when she is left alone, like she has already given up.'

xxx

Imoen ignored the painful tingle, enjoying the feel of the water flowing about her hands, sweeping over her skin like an icy silk, the outline of her fingers rippling just under the surface of the stream. It was nice there, stood beneath the trees with the water rushing about her calves, the mist that still rolled golden about them giving the place an ethereal air. Aerie was a little way behind her filling the group's collected bottles and flasks for the journey to come, the elf seeming not to mind that Imoen had yet to begin to help her in the task.

In a moment, the girl promised herself, stooping to splash some water up over her face and neck, the icy blast almost taking her breath away –the extremes were easier to feel nowadays. She had been wanting some time away from the others since they had left the Underdark, an opportunity to collect her thoughts and work out the feelings that were growing increasingly dull within her. And in the peace of that glade she had come to her conclusion.

'Here, throw us the big one, Aerie, I'll get it filled.'

'Oh, ah, thank you,' Aerie faltered, the offer seemingly catching her out. Imoen grinned as she caught the large leather flask.

'Nah, I should have helped earlier. It's nice here, isn't it? I never thought I'd be happy to see another forest after the Cloakwood. It's good being on the surface again, too. I like the light- it reminds me of who I am.' Imoen drew a deep breath, forcing herself to look up and face, not only Aerie, but herself as well. 'I am sorry for how I was, Aerie, in the Underdark and before. I want to blame it all on my soul being taken, but that just seems like the easy way out.'

Aerie was already shaking her head. 'You've already apologised, Imoen, there is no need.'

But Imoen knew differently, the girl wading to the bank to heave the now full flask onto the grass and step out after it.

'No, there is. I spent all that time in the asylum lost in dreams of how things had been -it kept me going. And then to have Fritha finally arrive and find everything had changed… I just wanted things to return to the way they'd been, to find it all lost brought out the worst in me and without my soul there to stop it…' She shrugged; they both knew what she had been like, it was time to move on from it. Imoen sighed. 'My soul has gone and when I look inside myself, I find I don't like what it's left behind –all selfishness and hate. I know I'll have it back soon, but I don't want to just wait for that. I want to be like I was, be nice again, and not from my soul, but just with the force of who I am. I want to be a better person, right from the core, because if I'm not, then this Bhaal stuff in me, it's like it's already won.'

Aerie was smiling, the elf dusting off her robes as she straightened. 'You are a good person, Imoen, right from the heart, and I think you just proved it.'

Imoen smiled too and a friendly embrace sealed the pledge.

'Oh, sorry,' came a voice behind them, the girls parting to see Fritha stood on the edge of the trees and about to take her leave, Imoen hastening to halt her. 'Fritha, wait! I want to talk to you.'

'What about?' she asked, trudging over to them. Her face was mottled pink in a look Imoen recognised from the many times in her youth some 'unwarranted' scolding had left her with the desire to cry, but with a burning rage that had dried up all the tears.

'Just- what's wrong? You seem angry-' Imoen paused an instant, correcting playfully, 'well, angrier.'

Fritha missed the joke, sighing heavily as she shrugged. 'Anomen, as usual –why he can't just leave me alone. Anyway, what do you want?'

Imoen smiled, closing to lay a hand upon her arm. 'To say sorry. I know it was hard for you down there and I know that some of the things I did couldn't have made it easier and we fought more than once, but in spite of everything, I want you to know you're my friend and I still love you.'

Fritha face was blank. 'Oh. Right.'

Imoen felt the familiar hurt throb. 'That's all you have to-' A terse sigh vented the frustration. 'I- I understand, Fritha. Don't worry, it will come back. You will feel it again, like I will…'

Fritha was staring back at her, a new intensity awaking in her eyes that Imoen had not seen since they first arrived in Ust Natha and, for a moment, she thought her friend would embrace her, Fritha's voice cool and quiet with her resolve.

'I will kill Bodhi for you, Imoen. I swear it.'

Imoen smiled and nodded; it wasn't quite a hug, but she understood.

xxx

The girls had returned from the river an hour ago, two elves arriving to escort Solaufein back to their camp a short while later, where he could make his prayers and sleep the rest of the day under guard as Elhan had decreed. He had left them all with the courteous wish that their mission was a successful one, the man singling out Fritha to express a sincere hope to see her again alive to which she dipped her head and said it was out of her hands.

The day was dawning proper now, the mist finally burning off as their group gathered about the firepit, the air over them heavy and reflective as they prepared to bed down for a few hours sleep. Jaheira watched those about her, her gaze drawn, as it was more often than not, to the girl at her side, Fritha sat upon her bedding steadily reading from the same green volume that had so occupied her in Ust Natha. She was quieter than she had been lately, the fire that had once dragged them through the Underdark now gone, replaced by a hunger that seemed happy enough feeding on something within when there was no immediate anger available, and Fritha looked rather ill in her old skin, her face unpleasantly gaunt, Jaheira trying to recall more than a handful of occasions over the last tenday where the girl had sat and taken a meal with them.

'Some thing to eat, Fritha?' she asked hopefully. The girl shrugged, still reading.

'All right.'

The woman felt a surge of triumph only for it instantly to be replaced with foolishness at such a petty, pointless victory.

'What are you reading there?' Jaheira continued in a sigh, plating up a generous helping of bread, dried fruit and seeds. The girl glanced up from the pages with an absent frown.

'Oh, just one of my old books. It's a romance of tender beginnings, standard hardships and the obligatory happy ending- I've read it twice before now and each time had me in tears from the second chapter.'

Jaheira said nothing, just looked at her, searching her so far dry eyes for something that probably wasn't there anymore. Fritha's frown intensified and it took the druid a moment to realise she had reached out to take the girl's hand.

'That it is lost to you now, does not mean it has departed for good.'

Fritha nodded awkwardly, easing her fingers from her own as she took the plate from her, laying it in her lap and tidying away her book as she prepared to pick through her meal.

'So, you have planned our route back to the city?'

'Yes,' the druid nodded, glad she seemed willing to talk after so many days of avoiding them, 'we can go by river for much of it -it could take as little as four days if we are fortunate enough to be able to get a boat the whole way.'

'Well, let us hope for that then, though I suppose we should be thankful we can make any way by water; it would take over a tenday by foot alone.'

'Ah, I know this may sound silly, but what are we going to do when we reach the city?' asked Aerie, the elf settling on her own bedding to join the discussion. Minsc laughed at the obviousness of it.

'Find Bodhi and take our revenge!'

Aerie looked reluctant to continue, her hesitance seeming to draw the rest of them into the conversation, as the men and Imoen pressed around.

'But, well, what if that doesn't get Imoen's soul out? What if Bodhi just dies and nothing happens?'

'We should have considered that,' muttered Anomen; his angry scowl indicating just who he was blaming for the oversight, 'I will consult with the High Watcher upon our return.'

Valygar was frowning as well. 'Perhaps Bodhi will need to be captured and drained of it as you were.'

'By the Lady, I don't fancy that ride,' laughed the tiefling, 'that Reed berk was challenge enough!'

Imoen remained firm. 'It won't come to that. My soul will come back to me. Don't ask me how, I just know it will. When we first faced Bodhi in the asylum, I could feel it -it wants to come back and it's going to.'

'Imoen does stand a good chance of recovery,' offered Haer'Dalis practically, 'in theory, Bodhi is already dead.'

'And you, Fritha?' asked Aerie quietly. The girl popped a grape into her mouth with a careless shrug.

'I don't have an answer for you. Irenicus will need to be killed, come what may, and I will either get my soul back and live, or I won't and I'll die. And I should probably mention here-' She whipped her head suddenly to the side, snapping at some unseen interruption, 'yes, I'm going to tell them, why not?' Fritha turned back to them, 'I don't think I've much longer left.'

A round of nervous glances, Anomen voicing with the predictably tempered distress, 'But Imoen is a tenday further on that you, and she-'

'Has hardly been exhibiting the same signs, has she?' Fritha cut in dully, like she had rehearsed this all before, 'Bhaal's essence was not distributed evenly, Irenicus told me that. There is more inside me, much more, and in housing it, in suppressing the form it would have me take, it is eating me away.'

'How could you know this?' asked Jaheira, no doubt what she was saying was the truth of it.

The girl dipped her face. 'I just… sense it.'

'Sense it?' repeated Anomen sharply, 'Fritha, I understand you perhaps feel-'

'Oh gods, all right, Anomen, I was told it! I hear a voice, but not like the usual one, it –Oh shut up,' she snapped, shaking her head as though to rattle the demons it contained, 'they need to understand!- it knows things, things I could not know. I think it is my instinct or something, I –oh, for goodness' sake, surely the more of us that know the better? Oh, fin- yes, fine then, you do that!' She sighed deeply, at last turning back to them, 'It's sulking now.'

Anomen looked horrified. 'Fritha-'

'I'm not mad!' she snapped, almost pleadingly, 'The voice -it was like before at first, it helped. But we've been disagreeing more and more of late. It is very adamant about getting our- I mean, my soul back, and at the expense of all else; it knows I am running out of time. Even now I can feel a tiredness creeping in -Imoen senses it too, don't you?'

Imoen looked almost embarrassed as all eyes snapped to her, the girl nodding uncertainly, 'I, well, yeah. I thought I was just tired from the travelling and the dreams, but it's getting harder and harder to wake up each morning.'

Fritha looked grim. 'Leave it long enough and one day soon you won't.'

'Imoen?' Jaheira pressed, the woman relieved to see the determined fire that had long ago left her friend's eyes.

'Don't worry about me; I can last till we reach Bodhi.'

'And you, Fritha?' asked Anomen quietly. Fritha sighed, picking absently at the heavily seeded bread.

'I can feel it even now, the essence grows closer to the surface. I cannot hold my temper as I once could, and soon I will not be able to hold it back either; in battle I would just be a liability. I think I've about a fortnight left, perhaps two tenday at the most, after that… well, even killing Irenicus might not make a difference.'

xxx

They had been seven days on the move now, setting out from the forests that ran along the Amn-Tethyr border to walk the two days to the river Jaheira had hoped would halve their journey. Indeed, all had looked hopeful as they found passage on an elven trading barge, the captain agreeing to take them as far north as Lake Esmel where Trademeet rose, a hub of commerce on the north-eastern banks. And so it was another two days on that ship, trying to keep out of the way in that already cramped boat as they travelled a river whose local name they did not know, though the elves had named it 'Viper's Tongue' in their own language, for the way it apparently forked so neatly at the source.

But Lake Esmel was as far as their fortunes lasted, the fog there so thick they could not see the other side of the lake as they sailed along the eastern banks, the frosted rushes sticking from the icy grey water like black spears, as though a whole army lay waiting beneath the surface. They disembarked to spend an hour or so stood on the freezing jetties, before soon coming to the realisation that no boats were leaving for Athkatla within the next few days, at least, and their group reluctantly set out for the city on foot.

The weather was very cold. The elves had gifted them tents; light flimsy-looking things that withstood a lot more punishment that their thin frames would have suggested. There was no snow, but the rain was relentless and more than a few nights those not on watch were awoken by the great rumbles of thunder, lightning forking across the distant hills.

Imoen trudged along, trying to ignore the cold wind and the way every blast bit at her exposed face, the skin tight with the wet and cold, her limbs aching under the weight of her laden pack. It had been a while since she had been forced to hike anywhere, months in fact, the weather much milder back when they'd travelled the Sword Coast, and, truth be told, she was finding it hard. They had been on the move before dawn that morning, walking the narrow forest road in a light drizzle that, like her pack, had only grown heavier as the day had worn on. At least this was their last night out in the wilds. They would arrive at their destination tomorrow: Athkatla, a city where she had already spent a tenday, though admittedly in a dungeon far beneath the crowded streets.

Imoen shrugged her aching shoulders and the pack they bore, and leaned into the wind. Every step took her closer to it and an animalistic thrill trembled through her stomach as she thought of her soul there just waiting for her, hungering to return from that cold, lifeless shell and she wondered how Fritha felt, when every step was taking her further away.

Imoen glanced ahead, but could not see the girl past the collection of bodies that marched before her. It likely would have told her little anyway. Fritha had hardly spoken to anyone for days now, outside of commands or the mundane chatter that accompanied maps and ration. She did not seem angry though, or impatient to reach the city, or even upset, the girl just trudging through the days with a kind of sad acceptance. Sometimes Imoen would catch her gazing about the forests, which she realised Fritha must have walked a few times now as they closed upon the city, a certain wistfulness to her friend's manner. Imoen wondered what she would be like when they finally made it back to the elves. They still had no idea as to whether merely killing Irenicus would be enough to release her soul -Fritha seemed reluctant to discuss the subject, as though perhaps she had no plans for its occurrence.

Imoen winced, closing her eyes as a violent gust of icy wind howled over them, her hood thrown back with the force, and Valygar glanced back at her curse. She sent him a grin, shaking the wet hair back from her face and fighting to pull her hood back up as he slowed to walk next to her.

'I think I saw less water on the boat. What was it me and Fritha used to sing? Rain, rain, go away. Come again another day.'

The ranger smiled slightly. 'We should be thankful; this time of year often yields snow, not rain.'

Imoen nodded, unable to suppress the wistful sigh that had risen in her –she was not normally one for melancholy, but the season made it feel almost obligatory.

'I know. I can hardly believe the Midwinter feast is tomorrow –it's almost Alturiak… Where has this year gone? You know this time last year I was living in Candlekeep –me and Fritha dancing about in the kitchens, helping Beth make preparations for the feast. I remember, I'd wanted my hair curled for the party and later in the evening Fritha stood behind me with a bowl of water and a ripped up bed sheet, ragging my hair as I fidgeted and squirmed and made it as difficult as possible –and after I'd begged her to help too!' Imoen laughed fondly at the memory, and the night of discomfort that had followed. 'She had her revenge on me though, intended or not –those bloody knotted up rags poking me; I didn't sleep two hours together that night. What is it?' Imoen asked as she glanced up to find Valygar watching her with a smile.

'Nothing. It is just easy to forget how young you both are.'

'Ah, we're not young,' Imoen laughed, 'we're just immature –I'm one and twenty next month!'

Valygar was still smiling faintly to himself –that clearly sounded young to him, but did not feel that way to her. Candlekeep had been sheltered; a nice place to grow up, but it was hard not to wonder at which the price such safety had come. She had missed out on so many parts of growing up- well she would have, if she had bothered to yet. Imoen sighed.

'Twenty years old and I'm ragging my hair, twenty one and I'm fighting for my soul. It's strange how life seems to change so quickly.'

'And people too,' Valygar offered mildly, 'I notice your temperament has been much calmer of late.'

Imoen smiled at his phrasing –he could have just said she was being less of a cow, but it was nice that he'd noticed. She shrugged.

'Yeah, well, it's easier to see who we are in the sunlight- well, metaphorically, anyway,' she added, with a glance to the boiling grey sky. 'I'm trying to improve the person I am –you know, get you all used to what a saint really I am, before I get my soul back and I'm returned to my revoltingly righteous self.'

'I see. Well, I shall try to prepare myself for- damn!' he cursed, one of the leather straps on his pack suddenly giving way, the heavy bag released to swing from one shoulder.

'Careful there,' Imoen giggled, 'language like that once I've my soul back and I'll be in a dead faint.'

He snorted grimly, gently heaving off the pack to set it on the gravel path that was now more mere that road, Imoen leaning in with a werelight to aid his investigation.

'It it just where the rivet was through it,' he sighed, showing her the torn leather than lead up to the now empty hold, 'I can fix it once we stop.'

Imoen smiled, reaching forward an already glowing hand. 'Here, I can seal it until- hey!' she cried as he whipped it suddenly from reach, his face an angry twist of conflicting emotions.

'It is fine, Imoen; I can carry it with just one.'

'Oh, don't be an arse! The magics you've had worked on you of late, to get all pissy over a mending cantrip. Look, I've enough curses on me without you thinking one of my few attributes is one, as well.'

'What's wrong back here?' came a high voice next to them, Aerie and Haer'Dalis appearing through the curtain of rain, 'Why have you stopped?'

'No reason,' Imoen assured her, 'just Valygar being an arse.'

'Imoen! I merely expressed-'

'That I'm an evil mage, but a cantrip from corruption.'

'Oh, that,' said Aerie, like she knew just how that went.

'Now, Valygar,' tutted Haer'Dalis, 'these young ladies of the Art, they do not like their use of the Weave to be brought into question.'

The ranger remained resolute. 'Every man must follow his own beliefs.'

'Even if they're wrong?' goaded Imoen

'Even then.'

Aerie sighed, turning back to their path. 'Come on, we'll lose- oh.'

Ahead of them were the remaining four of their company, not striding off into the distance, but halted as they were about a well-cloaked man who was dragging a large covered handcart.

'Looks as though we have stopped,' offered Valygar. Imoen just bit back a snide exclamation of 'No, really?', instead raising her voice to shout, 'Here, Minsc, what's going on?'

The huge ranger turned back at the sound and was instantly ambling over to them in his easy gait.

'The merchant stopped to tell us that this path on which we would travel is flooded but a league away. The water was not deep, but it was fast moving and rising quickly. He entered, in what he sees now as folly, and barely made it across. That was an hour ago.'

They glanced up as the rumble of wheels caught their attention, the merchant on the move again and nodding politely to them as they made room for him on the narrow path. The map was already out as they rejoined the others, Fritha's eyes scanning over the fine lines as Anomen fought to hold it still in the blustery winds.

'Well, we will have to cut north through the forests. If the land is flooding here, the Sahon's Ford will likely be too dangerous to cross. We will have to head back up stream and cross at the Old Bridge. From there we can join the High Road tomorrow and take that route all the way to the city.'

'We would be in de'Arnise land,' offered Anomen quietly. Jaheira peered a moment at the map.

'Indeed. Old Bridge is barely a league from the keep. Well, if we are travelling that close-'

'No,' said Fritha firmly. Jaheira looked liked she'd been expecting that.

'Fritha, it makes sense.'

'No. We will continue until it is dark and then make camp.'

Another blast of icy wind howled about them, Anomen hurrying to furl the map before it escaped him; the druid was fast losing her temper.

'Fritha, we are barely two hours from the dusk! We are all tired and the weather could not be worse; we will seek hospitality at de'Arnise Keep.'

Fritha's face was set. 'Those who wish to, go with Jaheira. I am continuing on.'

Imoen glanced about her; the lines were being drawn up, Minsc and Haer'Dalis already looking like they would be joining Fritha in her obstinacy, Aerie hovering hopefully behind Jaheira.

'Please, Fritha, see reason; she might not even be there.'

This spell just standing had done nothing for Imoen, the brief respite allowing her to feel for the first time all day how exhausted she actually was. Every muscle was aching, her body soaked and cold; she did not understand the disagreement that had halted them and, in that moment, she just did not care about anything outside of the chance of somewhere warm and dry to stay the night. She edged forward, Fritha whirling back as the hand touched her arm.

'Fritha, please, just come to the keep, please.'

The girl stared back at her, face unreadable as she let her eyes flick about the rest of them. 'You do not know what you ask of me, Imoen. None of you do.'

Fritha shrugged her off, stepping from the path to set out northward through the trees.

'So be it; there is hardly enough of me left to feel the sting.'

xxx

Imoen could not see much of the castle in the twilight and the now driving rain, just an outline of high walls about the even higher keep within, the warm yellow squares of windows winking in the darkness. The drawbridge was already lowered and one of the two soldiers who were standing on guard at the gate seemed to recognise her friends, the man leaving his partner on duty as he escorted them inside.

Imoen did not realise how very cold she was until she stepped into those warm kitchens, the two cavernous fireplaces scorching the room with a sweltering heat and it was all she could do not to start divesting herself of her sodden clothes right there. The long room was all bustle, the scrubbed table in the far end surrounded by servants busy preparing vegetables or stirring large earthenware bowls, each as red-faced and flushed as she imagined she likely was, while at the stove two women, one stout and older, the other looking rather like her nicely plump daughter, were flitting between the many pans that were bubbling there, tasting the contents and adding various pinches of this and that from the bench at their side, the long seat shared by the young boy who was perched on the opposite end at the nearest fireplace, slowly turning the joint that was spitted over the glowing coals. Imoen's stomach gave a hopeful gurgle.

'Madam Elise?' prompted Jaheira politely. The older of the pair glanced up and suddenly her florid face was split with a smile, the old cook fussily wiping her hands on the stained linen apron that was wrapped about the barrel of her form and bustling over to welcome them in with barely a glance to the muddy water they were trailing through her kitchens; they were clearly held high in her regard.

'Well now, look what the winds have blown in! Welcome, welcome, I did wonder if I were to be seeing you good folk again. Darred, Enseph, take their cloaks and what-not. Charlotte, go and fetch her Ladyship.'

'The Lady Delcia is still in residence here?' asked Jaheira, surrendering her cloak and pack to the tall lad now at her side.

'Oh yes, though she is not about at the moment. She's is staying with friends in the city for the Midwinter feast and will travel back here-'

The creak of the door before them and a young woman entered in a gown of deep brown, her dark red hair twisted up and pinned neatly in place with golden pins that accentuated the arrangements of pearls and gold at her ears and throat. She had yet to notice them, half-shielded by the door as they were, the woman addressing the cook in politely authoritative tones.

'Ah, Elise, Charlotte said-' The girl stopped suddenly as her eyes fell on them, her face lighting in her elation, 'Oh my- Fritha!' She started forward, her step faltering in the face of Fritha's stony look, when Aerie had suddenly embraced her, the pair laughing as the druid fondly patted her back. 'Oh, Jaheira and Aerie -oh, you are all here; it has been so long! And where is Cernd?'

'Returned to his grove.'

'And with his son, no less –oh, Nalia, we've such a lot to tell you!'

Imoen glanced to Fritha, the girl hung back from the sudden press, her face unreadable, Nalia already drawn back from the two women and greeting the others.

'Anomen, I heard of your knighthood, I knew you would succeed. Minsc -oh and Boo as well, how are you both? And is that not Lord Corthala? Well met, sir.'

'Please, Valygar is fine.'

'And Haer'Dalis, I see they have yet to get rid of you.'

'How could they lose their leading man?'

Nalia laughed at his cheek, already moving toward her with a smile. 'And you must be Imoen; I've heard such a lot about you.'

Imoen did not know what to say to that considering she had no clue as to who this woman was, but she was saved any answer as the door swung open once more, a tall dark-haired man bearing a fine blue tunic and a rather strong nose entered behind her.

'Nalia dear, I heard we have had an arrival. Have Lord Cendre's retinue finally- Oh,' he stopped as he noticed then, his surprise gone as suddenly as it had surfaced as he sent them an affable smile, 'hello there.'

Nalia hastened to make the introductions. 'Ah, yes, Lundav, these are my good friends, the ones I travelled with before I joined the orphanage. This is Jaheira, Aerie, Anomen, Fritha-'

'Ah, no need for any introductions here,' he laughed amiably, 'This is the young lady who was good enough to entrust me with her delivery –I should shake your hand, my lady, bringing me to the acquaintance of my dear Nalia.'

'Delivery?' questioned Aerie. Fritha's face was blank as she answered her.

'I sent Nalia a letter. This gentleman was good enough to take it with him when he journeyed to the orphanage with the Illmaterans.' Her eyes dropped to Nalia's pale hands and the simple opal ring that so neatly encircled the fourth finger of her left hand. 'You are engaged: my sincere congratulations to you both.'

'Oh, Nalia, you're getting married?' cried Aerie, looking overjoyed at this revelation –perhaps she hoped to be bridesmaid.

'Congratulations, indeed,' agreed Jaheira, 'and when did this blessing occur?'

'About a month back –took me long enough to work up the nerve!' laughed Lundav, the man giving his fiancée's shoulders a gentle squeeze as though to prove to himself he had actually managed it.

'Now, I am sorry to interrupt you there, m'lady,' began Elise politely, 'but will you be wanting extra places set in the Great Hall?'

'You have guests?' asked Jaheira. Lundav nodded.

'Oh yes, all here for the Midwinter Feast tomorrow -though we've always room for more. When I heard of your arrival, I had thought Lord Cendre and his attendants had finally made it past the flooding –he must still be at the Golden Sheaf inn waiting for the roads to clear. I hope they can get through tomorrow.'

'We are sorry to arrive unannounced,' ventured Aerie.

'Nonsense,' dismissed Nalia, Jaheira hiding an approving smile behind her hand as the girl continued, 'You are welcome to join us, both tonight and for the feast tomorrow –though I see from your reluctance that perhaps you would rather not spend the evening in such formal surroundings.'

'I can have the table set up in the parlour if you wish, m'lady,' offered the cook promptly.

'Yes, please, Elise.'

The old cook smiled. 'So there's eight of you now, is there? And will you be joining them, my lady?'

'Oh, well,' Nalia faltered, clearly torn between her duties as hostess and her desire to see them properly. Lundav laid a hand upon her shoulder.

'Stay here with them, dearest, I can make your excuses.'

And Nalia smiled as he kissed the top of her head and cordially took his leave of them, the girl pink with a heat that likely had little to do with the kitchens as she turned back to them all.

'Well, let us see about getting you some rooms.'

Imoen was so glad to change out of her wet clothes and lie on an actual bed, she doubted she would have risen again until morning if she had not been so hungry, the maid Abbey arriving not long afterwards to inform her the others were waiting for her and escort her through the labyrinth of corridors to a small parlour, where a large table had been set and laden with a feast she had dreamt of since the Gate. No more the rations, or worse, the strange fungi and meats of the Underdark; there were dried fruits, cheeses and breads, a cold ham joint, a steaming tureen of broccoli soup, and a whole wooden tray set with preserves and pickles of every kind.

'Look, Fritha, lemon curd, your favourite.'

Fritha obliged her with a glance to the squat yellow jar, no more. Across the table, Nalia looked to be fighting against wringing her sleeves as she watched the exchange.

'Well, let us not stand on ceremony.'

Everyone took their seats, the initial expected silence as everyone served themselves and settled down to eat refusing to fade, the air over the table growing more uncomfortable by the moment.

'So,' began Nalia, taking up her duty as host to provide the opening, 'the weather is very mild this year. I recall last year the snows lasted until second tenday in Alturiak.'

Imoen sighed inwardly; were things so bad they were talking about the weather? She kept her face down and focused on the far more interesting contents of the table, reaching forward to ladle some of the rich soup into her waiting bowl as Jaheira took up the small talk.

'Indeed, though this rain is just as disruptive. The main forest road is flooded.'

'Yes, we had heard that. I am very glad we funded the instillation of new irrigation ditches and dams in the lower farmsteads. I know farmland belonging to neighbouring estates have been quite badly hit.'

'You sound to have been busy,' offered Anomen, 'when did you take residence here?'

Nalia paused, counting the tenday in her head. 'About two months back. Before Isea's trial I heard he was under arrest at his house and petitioned the magistrates that I be allowed to return here as seneschal. Lord Fathington Roenall seemed happy to relinquish the post from his own man -perhaps he wished to distance the family from the place since it had been revealed how Isea was using it- and I was allowed to return, at first, by leave of the court and then once Isea was found guilty, my title and lands were restored to me by the Council.'

'And what of Isea?' asked Valygar.

'He was executed privately; with the slaving, piracy and smuggling, the Council decided an example needed to be set.'

'Good,' nodded Minsc sternly, 'Boo has noted too readily is justice lost to coin.'

Nalia dipped her head in agreement. 'Indeed. But, perhaps that is not a subject for now. What have you all been doing lately?'

Imoen snorted into her soup. 'Oh, because that's definitely a subject for the dinner table.'

'Imoen,' sighed Jaheira with a frown, but Nalia was smiling.

'So, you are Imoen… I made Fritha promise to bring you when she came to visit me at the orphanage. I suppose our timings were a little hopeful.'

She glanced to the girl in question, perhaps hoping for some comment on this, but Fritha kept her head down. Imoen defused the tension with a laugh.

'I'll say. They've only just fetched me back –not that I'm not grateful,' she added quickly, 'cause I am.'

'You've only just arrived back from the asylum?' repeated Nalia, seemingly surprised. 'Where was it located then, somewhere to the east? The Windspears, or perhaps-'

'Spellhold was not to the east,' Fritha cut in quietly, the whole table seemingly frozen as she broke her silence. 'It was not even in Amn. It was situated on an island many leagues off the coast, though our route back from there was somewhat indirect.'

'I see…' said Nalia after a moment, this explanation clearly giving her no more clue than if Fritha had neglected to answer at all. Imoen sighed, feeling sorry for the girl.

'Come on, Fritha, don't leave her in the dark -we've had enough of that lately. My imprisonment at the asylum was real enough, but Irenicus was more warden than inmate by the time this lot arrived. He was waiting for Fritha there, took my soul for his sister and Fritha's for himself.'

'Your souls?' Nalia cried. Imoen nodded, swallowing a mouthful of bread.

'Yep, seems he needed them for a cure to something he and his sister were suffering. And then off he escapes through the Underdark, all the way to the elven city of Suldanessellar. We've followed him ever since.'

'But he took you souls? But- But how is such a thing even possible?'

Aerie shook her head gravely. 'We don't know, but he found a way.'

'And now we birds must find a way to fetch them back,' added Haer'Dalis, 'before the raven and the robin sing their last.'

Nalia was staring about the table looking aghast. 'Well, where are the mage and his sister now? Are they in they city? Are they fleeing you?' she questioned earnestly, as though she would pack them off on their pursuit there and then -and likely join them in it.

'Do not fret, Nalia,' calmed Jaheira firmly, 'Bodhi is most likely within her stronghold in Athkatla –we will deal with her soon enough.'

'And Irenicus?'

Only Anomen had the heart to say it.

'He has sealed the elven city; only his sister holds the key. We left him in Suldanessellar.'

Silence followed his words, the discordant chime and scrape of cutlery echoing out to fill the space their talk had left.

'So, when is your wedding planned for?' asked Aerie abruptly, 'Soon?'

Nalia shook her head. 'Oh, not until the spring, and it will likely come all too soon even then, for there is so much to be done. Lundav does not live here -he is just visiting for Midwinter with the other nobles, and much of the rooms must be changed about and prepared before he takes residence here after the wedding. I will have to move into my father's old room, for a start.'

Nalia sighed, looking, for a moment, sad as she confessed, 'Truth be told, I would rather stay in my old room, but there are expectations of my position and being lady of one's lands is as much about appearances as it is title.' Nalia shook her head again, brightening somewhat as her eyes fell hopefully upon the girl opposite. 'You know, I was clearing out my old clothes hampers just the other day and I thought of you, Fritha. I noticed you had taken my old green gown as I had hoped you would –tell me, did you ever find an occasion to wear it?'

The whole room seemed to wait for her answer. Fritha drew a sip of tea and nodded once.

'Yes, to Althan Deril's St Adulphi's Day celebrations.'

'How nice!' Nalia cried, seemingly glad to have something more light-hearted to seize upon, 'You enjoyed the evening?'

'Yes. We threatened to expose his practise of necromancy and blackmailed him into handing over his adoptive son.'

'Sorry?'

'Ah, the tale is a little more complicated than that,' interjected Jaheira quickly. Fritha sighed and pushed her dish away.

'Aren't they always? But I fear my talent for stories has since departed me -if I may be excused.'

And no one made to halt her as Fritha rose and left.

Nalia stayed where she was, although seemingly just for decorum's sake, the girl picking her way through the rest of the meal and some of the others would have likely joined her, if but for the fact that after a few days of dried rations eaten in the rain and cold, even this simple meal was like a banquet. Nalia made much more effort with the conversation though, a gentle murmur of pleasantries ensuring the rest of the meal was not borne in same discomfort in which it had begun. Perhaps it had been for the best that Fritha had left.

Charlotte and Abbey had just cleared away the last of the dishes, Jaheira and Minsc excusing themselves to return to their rooms, and it was only then Nalia politely rose herself, Anomen standing, too, to catch her at the door. Imoen pushed her chair back with a heavy sigh that was half-unease and half-full stomach, her eyes fixed on the pair even as she muttered to the man next to her.

'Gods, can't we even have a meal without some drama. All through dinner she was stealing glances at Fritha, and then she goes and takes her off after barely a mouthful.'

Valygar raised a wry eyebrow. 'Yes, I noticed how distraught you were when you were forced to eat Fritha's share of dessert in her place. As for the reasons, I could not say; Nalia was before my time.'

At the door, Anomen looked grave, the man lowering his head seemingly composing himself to continue as Nalia gently patted his arm looking almost as distressed as he, their audience swelling to include Haer'Dalis as Aerie left the table, as well. Imoen feigned a sneeze to catch his eye and earnestly beckon the tiefling to the empty chair at her side.

'So, what's going on then? Why'd Fritha leave dinner? What are those two whispering about? Fritha said she didn't want to come here in the first place –was it something to do with them? Oh! Did Anomen cheat on Fritha with-'

'Calm yourself, my robin,' Haer'Dalis forestalled, 'you are too happy jumping to conclusions and they are the wrong ones. For all his faults, Anomen could no more play a lady false than he could eat his own considerably deflated head.'

Imoen snorted. 'Yeah, well, I'd say it's enough of a miracle he'd got one girl to put up with him, but stranger things have happened.'

Valygar was frowning. 'Do you not think you should let go of this bitterness? What wrong has the knight ever done you?'

'He hurt Fritha,' Imoen retorted, knowing the excuse was growing thinner every time she snapped it. Valygar looked predictably unimpressed.

'Juvenile as this sounds, she has more than got her own back since.'

'Yeah, and I'll forgive him when she does.'

'And what happened to you becoming a better person?'

Imoen mouthed a moment, such a blow well below the belt in her opinion and all the more for the fact he had a point.

'Fine,' she sighed eventually and with more than a little sulkiness, 'I'll try. Anyway,' she continued, quickly turning back to Haer'Dalis, 'we aren't here to talk about him; what's got Fritha all sullen?'

'Well, I imagine coming here was hard for her,' he offered after a pause, 'Nalia travelled with us for a time and, well, they grew close.'

'So they were friends, then?' confirmed Imoen with a frown. 'You'd think they'd be a bit happier to see each other.'

Haer'Dalis shrugged, looking as though he was not sure how to elaborate. 'Yes, well, as I said, they were very close; if ever there were two birds more suited, I ne'er saw them. Always would they be at each other's arm, in laughter and sorrow. But it was not to last; Nalia decided her lands needed her more than our sorry flock and off she flew.'

'They parted badly?' asked Valygar, seemingly curious in spite of himself. Haer'Dalis shook his head.

'No, but the decision was sudden and I believe the raven took it hard. Perhaps she is finding this re-acquaintance a little too laden with memories.'

Imoen glanced back to the door, no sign of either Nalia or the knight, and she settled back in her seat. The parlour was warm and Imoen doubted very much Fritha was to be alone much longer, whether she wanted the company or not.

xxx

Nalia set her forearm to the heavy wood and pushed up, the hatch resisting a moment before the seal gave way and she heaved it back to move up the last few steps and emerge on the rain-beaten tower, her goal sat upon the notched ramparts but a few paces opposite.

Fritha did not turn back at the creak of the trapdoor, her eyes seemingly fixed on something to the distant west and Nalia realised as she climbed the steps that she was staring at Athkatla, the city a cluster of lights that glittered through the rain.

Nalia pulled up the hood of her cloak and, with little else to do, sank to perch on the topmost step, where the open hatch door could still afford her some shelter. Fritha had no such concern, the girl sat without her cloak and drenched through, long hair plastered about her body like a coat, rivulets of water running down her face like tears, though she did not look miserable for it, her expression as hard and cold as the stone about her.

There had been such a rush of emotions when Nalia had first seen her, just standing there in the kitchens, a pale ghost of the girl who had haunted her dreams since they parted. And, for an instant, everything, all that had happened in those last few months had fallen away and they could have been back in Trademeet, Nalia turned away from Sophia and the others from the orphanage -if she had changed her mind.

But she had not. This was the life they both had now, and in spite of everything, Nalia could not regret her decision.

The girl before her drew a deep breath, eyes still focused upon the distant lights as she spoke.

'Thank you for the money for the theatre.'

Nalia smiled. 'I had an inkling for what they might have been collecting –so you found your friend.'

'Yes.'

'And lost all the more in the rescue.'

Nalia could hear the wry smile.

'Oh, yes… I did not want to come here. I avoided you in the city, too… It is that same feeling I get when I think of Candlekeep -to return only to realise I can but visit the joy of that place, those people, and I would rather not be reminded of such happiness when, in the same instant, I must be reminded that it is no longer mine.' She snorted tiredly, 'The others do not understand though; to them it is just Fritha being stubborn…'

Nalia frowned. 'I'm sure they don't think that.'

Another tired snort. 'Still always willing to see the best in people… It was a trait we used to share.'

Nalia smiled faintly to herself. 'And I believe you have been teaching it to others in my absence… Anomen for one.'

Fritha clearly heard her intimation, turning to face her for the first time as she asked, 'The others told you?'

'No, but I can tell –he looks at you, well,' Nalia had been about to make some comparison to the way she would sometimes catch Lundav looking at her, but it stuck in her throat… 'He- he looks at you often, and he drew me aside earlier. He seems to feel that you may not be in any state, or perhaps even desire, to continue on once you have ensured Imoen's soul is returned to her… He asked that I give you a place here, while the rest of them return to kill Irenicus.'

Fritha stared down at her, Nalia's words stirring something deep inside, her senses so numb she could barely tell what, though it unsettled her all the same, the girl still trying to summon the familiar contempt as she turned back to the city.

'Fool; I told him it would all end in tears.'

Nalia remained silent, perhaps she did not feel it was her place to comment, Fritha staring out across the darkness, the feeling gnawing at her innards like a hunger, and she knew that such was not for her; for all the hatred and indifference, she could not let the others go alone to their deaths. She would go with them, gods curse her, she would fight right up until that very last moment.

The despair she assumed long left behind suddenly caught up with her at the thought and, in that moment, she wished Nalia would go and leave her to howl her misery at the sky. Oh, why? Why had it had to be like this?

'Fritha?'

She glanced back to find Nalia watching her, pale face marred with a concerned frown and Fritha stared back at her, the anger and fear, hate and misery, and the utter empty loneliness all shuddering inside her.

This was how it was to be now, wasn't it?

This continual ache of the seconds…Was it even anything to do with her soul and the essence anymore? What if this was just life?

But it had not always been like this. She had been happy once, at peace. Would just sit for hours watching the world about her and enjoying existence, long before all this death and love and hate and, and- life, got in the way.

Nalia was still watching her, expecting an answer and in that moment, it was suddenly all so simple.

Fritha drew a deep breath and slowly let it go.

'So, you are engaged,' Fritha continued quietly, 'He seems a good man.'

'He is. He was the one who delivered your first letter to me.' Nalia laughed sheepishly, still embarrassed to recall it as she confessed, 'I'm afraid I was in a bit of a state when I discovered it was from you; he was very kind. Some of the paladins were to be stationed at the orphanage over the winter. He asked to be included among their number… we grew quite close.'

Fritha's face remained impassive. 'Do you love him?'

'Yes…' Nalia answered slowly, her next words all in a rush as her passions rose. 'Fritha, at the orphanage and afterwards, before the trial, when Isea was confined and I was allowed to stay here as seneschal, I waited. For you to come, or a letter, for any sign… but there was nothing… nothing came…'

'You have heard since about what I am?'

Nalia nodded mutely.

'Then you know why I did not come.' Fritha sighed, returning her gaze westward once more. 'Athkatla. There were times that I would have liked no less than to see that city burn… But not now. I will save it and I will save Suldanessellar and perhaps, if there's time, I can still save myself as well.'

Fritha turned back to her and tried a smile. 'I am glad you have found some happiness, dearest… it suits you.'