Chapter 17: Chasing Shadows

Ilyrana

Her half-sister was a tall, fair skinned woman with golden hair that was almost white and glacial blue eyes. A prominent scar ran down the left side of her face and it somehow further enhanced her beauty. She had a head on Ilyrana and was wearing what looked like an annoyingly well made suit of chainmail.

She'd been stalking the woman for over an hour now, shadowing her as she went from threatening some poor smith about a weapon she wanted enhanced to speaking to some of the town guard about the missing children. Her accent suggested somewhere north, perhaps one of the Ten Towns. She was haughty and sharp of tongue and wit. Ilyrana would have liked her under different circumstances.

Tor Niedrig was in the midst of preparing for Highharvesttide, as farmers brought in the last of their crops and convoys readied to leave before the snows came. Soon, there would be feasting and revelry, but Ilyrana's icy sister would not be around to partake in it.

The woman turned down one of the cobbled streets and eventually came upon an archery range where seven men were practicing while another corrected or taunted when needed. Rana flitted to the shadows around a pyramid of empty barrels and watched. The other bhaalspawn struck up a conversation with who appeared to be their leader, but she wasn't interested at all in what was being said. Her attention was fully arrested by the bow the man carried.

This must be the one Valygar had mentioned. Rana's eyes swept covetously over the gleaming obsidian hue of the wood. There were runes engraved, which was typical of enchanted bows, but this one's were exquisite. The bowstring was obviously sinew of some kind and the man had a quiver, so no enchanted arrows. Which was fine, she enjoyed fletching anyway.

Stifling a whimper of longing, she focused on their words in time to hear the woman ask if he was taking on new mercenaries. The man made some kind of misogynistic reply, followed by a sexual innuendo about sheaths and swords that made both women cringe and roll their eyes.

The man must have stolen that bow and used it as ornamentation because his eyesight was obviously too poor to use the thing properly if he couldn't recognize a formidable warrior standing right in front of him. Her sister seemed to come to a similar conclusion because she replied with something pithy and left.

Rana cast one more lustful look at the bow, silently promised it she would return to rescue it, then resumed her stalking. The other bhaalspawn headed into The Sawtooth Inn and began making her way up the stairs. Rana took a seat at the bar, the same one from last night actually, ordered a glass of Berduskan from Samuel, and made note of the room she disappeared into.

As much as she wanted to repeat her previous night of excessive drinking, she stopped at the one glass. Adding alcohol to the stew of fury bubbling inside her was a bad idea. She wanted to make a clean kill without drawing attention down on herself. Not scream at people to come fight her while she brandished a bottle of wine and a stolen axe in not much more than her smallclothes and boots. Which may have happened once before. There was a reason the Den of Seven Vales in Athkatla had a "DO NOT SERVE" sign with a drawing of her likeness behind it's bar.

When the woman reappeared, still wearing all that armor, much to Rana's dismay, and exited once again, Rana slid a few gold pieces onto the bar and got up. When Samuel took the coins and turned to help another customer, she slipped away and headed up the stairs. Glancing around to make sure no one was paying her any attention, she pressed her ear to the door to listen for anyone else in the room. Hearing nothing, she quickly picked the lock, darted inside, and relocked the door.

This room was much nicer than the one she'd stayed in at The Last Stop. Heading towards the dresser, she began rifling through the woman's things, pocketing anything of value. There wasn't much. Turning to the mattress, she hefted it, checking for tears that would hide more treasure, but found none. She did find a small bag of gold, though, inside an elaborate horn that looked to be of barbarian origin.

A quick perusal of the bathroom and sitting room turned up nothing. Ignoring what appeared to be a journal on the table beside the bed, Rana headed to the door and leaned back against the wall beside it, so that when it opened, she would be hidden.

Her curiosity kept her eyes coming back to land on the diary, but she had no real desire to learn about the woman. She didn't want to know her name. Where she hailed from. If she had a lover. Or children. This wasn't personal, and she intended to keep it that way. One of them had to die. Fate demanded it. Their blood demanded it. It would not be Rana.

Up until now, she had never knowingly sought out her kin, except for Yaga-Shura. She didn't like the thought of hunting her siblings down to kill them for a destiny she didn't even want to be a part of. Most of them were likely doing the same thing she had been doing, just trying to survive and live a normal life. Fate had thrust her into a position where she couldn't bury her head in the sand, though.

There were a very small number of them that possessed far more power than the rest. The Five. And her and Sarevok. If there were more, she hadn't heard of them. If she were like Imoen, who's taint began manifesting itself far later than the rest, and wasn't detectable by other bhaalspawn for whatever reason, she may have been able to go underground, metaphorically speaking of course, and wait this thing out. She highly doubted every bhaalspawn needed to be dead before one of them could ascend or bring their father back. Surely the reason Bhaal spread his seed so far and wide was to eliminate just that problem. There was so much essence out there that enough could be gathered without needing to hunt down every last one.

Of course, acknowledging that meant she had to also acknowledge the fact that this assassination was more than likely very unnecessary. That murdering the Five first, then waiting to see if that was enough before killing the lessers, was the better thing to do. The humane thing. The "right" thing. Rana was pretty damn fed up with all of that, though.

Since she left Candlekeep, she'd tried to walk the straight and narrow, the occasional theft notwithstanding. She hadn't enjoyed the necessity of ending lives. Though she had always been far less scrupulous when it came to vengeance. Rana had spent several years fighting back the taint, trying to hold fast to her ideals. Losing her soul though… having it stolen by the same man who broke her, violated her, and cut her open, was too much to come back from.

It was near impossible to care about some noblewoman's missing son when she could barely sleep at night for the nightmares. Or feel sorry for the downtrodden citizens of Amkethran when she would be the one going into a dragon's lair and a drow enclave. The effort to empathize with people, aside from the ones she had grown close to over the years, had become exhausting. She would rather have staring contests with basilisks than even attempt to try and appear concerned about their petty problems. Her obstacles were mountains to their molehills, and she was all out of fucks to give.

Did that make her evil? She certainly couldn't see how. It's not like she went out of her way to make their miserable lives even worse. She just had her own miserable life to worry about.

And Sarevok thinks she should become a goddess? To have even more people begging her for something? Expecting things from her? Pass.

Withdrawing her knife, she began to spin it as she waited for the woman's return.

If she were being honest with herself, she would know that the reason she was in this room was because it had been days since she killed last. It felt like she had started eating nothing but vegetables, no meat. At first, you didn't notice you were still starving after eating a meal. Over a short period of time, though, the lack of protein begins to make it's presence known by forcing your mind to focus on possible sources of nourishment. The smell of cooked chicken was suddenly ambrosia to the senses. A steak may as well be a dragon's hoard of gold to a peasant. Rana craved murder in that same way.

Did that make her evil? Again, how could it? Was the wolf evil? Did it not need to kill in order to survive? Was death not bred into its very nature? How long could a predator go without meat before it died?

Bhaalspawn weren't animals, but Rana didn't feel too far removed from them. Being half god, the offspring of murder, made her more than her mortal peers, yet also put her around the same level as a beast. Her needs were just as primal, but she possessed a conscience, which arguably was a hindrance to someone who put murder in the same category as food and even sex.

So, how could that be a mark against her? How could she be blamed for being born this way? Hadn't she fought it tooth and nail all this time? Hadn't she forced herself to ignore the thrill that came with snuffing out the flame of another's existence? And how would it be any different if she stopped ignoring it and just accepted that it felt good and that she couldn't do a damn thing about that?

The knife blurred faster, but she took care not to cut herself again.

Her and Jaheira's conversation had really struck a nerve. The hypocrisy of wringing her hands over Rana maybe being labeled by the gods as evil, while also calling for Sarevok's death when he had done nothing since his resurrection to warrant it, made her seethe. Like Valygar had said, Sarevok already paid for what he did, he had a clean slate now. She wondered what the woman would say if she laid it all out there. Her and Sarevok's past. What Gorion did to them. How he was instrumental in setting her brother down the path that led to the events that nearly brought Baldur's Gate and Amn to war. Would she place any blame on Gorion? Rana highly doubted it. The Harper wanted to keep hating Sarevok. She understood that. The problem was that Rana was ready to move on while Jaheira was not.

If situations had been reversed, if Gorion had taken Sarevok instead of her, leaving her among the corpses and rubble of that temple, with no memories, would she have turned out differently than she originally had? Almost for a certainty. Especially if she had been adopted by Rieltar, or another like him. Wouldn't she, or anyone, have grabbed at the discovery of their divine parentage, and their inherent legacy, if they were being abused like that?

Which begged the question, what would Sarevok have been like if he hadn't been brutalized by that man? What if he had gotten lucky and been found by someone who raised him in much the same way Gorion had with her?

They were both the products of their fathers, Bhaal, Gorion, and Rieltar. Yet no one seemed to want to lay much responsibility at their feet for the way their children turned out.

The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs had her going completely still. When they neared the door, Rana adjusted her hold on her knife and pressed back further against the wall.

The rattle of a key slipping into the keyhole. The click of it unlocking.

The door swung slowly open, putting it between Rana and the woman as she entered her room.

Just when her sister began to turn to shut and lock the door behind her, Rana reached up, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and slit her throat. Elbowing the door shut as the other bhaalspawn fell to her knees, Rana wanted to make sure no one walked by and witnessed this.

Walking around to face the woman, Rana lowered her hood and locked eyes with her as she pressed her hands futilely to her throat, gasping and choking around the blood pouring from the gash. Those icy blue orbs were filled with hate and confusion. The latter changing to sudden understanding as Rana's eyes began to glow in response to her suffering.

She knew. Knew why she was dying.

The seconds ticked by. Rana counted them. Twelve until she slumped forward. Twenty-nine until the gasping stopped. Sixty-three until nothing remained but glittering ash. The body hadn't wanted to surrender life.

She must have had a lot to live for.

As she made her way back downstairs, she decided against having another drink. There was almost a kind of high that had started inside her the moment her steel opened the other bhaalspawn's throat. Had that always happened? Or had she immediately latched onto guilt and just never noticed it? The guilt was still there, but it was quiet. Quiet enough that she could easily ignore it.

Pulling her hood back up, she glanced around as she stepped outside the inn, debating her next move. There was a calmness within her now. It felt like she'd been viewing the world through a dirty window and had finally shattered it, revealing that what she had been looking at was far crisper and more vibrant than she previously thought.

Heading back toward the archery range, Rana finally allowed herself to think of Yoshimo's last goodbye. The fire that kindled her rage sparked anew just to remember his handwriting alone. He said he loved her. That he hadn't been ordered to sleep with her, that that was his own choice. Rana appreciated better than anyone the seductive allure of having a choice. In anything. What made her utterly convinced he was lying though was that he seemed to have few qualms with bedding her, but he couldn't bring himself to say those three words to her in person. He'd said he hadn't considered what their relationship would do to her once the truth had been revealed. Then why not tell her how he felt? If he truly hadn't been concerned about what he would be leaving behind, why not fully immerse himself in the charade he'd created?

Yoshi had been right about one thing. She hated him. Just as much as she did Irenicus. His letter only solidified that feeling. The knowledge that he and his master burned together gave her some small comfort.

A small feeling of unease settled in her stomach as she thought about how she'd been encouraging Imoen to pursue love with Haer'Dalis. Why would she do that? She never wanted her sister to feel what Rana was feeling now. What she'd felt the moment she realized Yoshimo had betrayed her.

The likelihood that their relationship would fizzle out before things went that far kept her from beating herself up too badly. Both the girl and the tiefling weren't the type to settle down, or take something like love very seriously. Haer'Dalis was a damned Doomguard, after all, an order that worshipped chaos and entropy. He believed that everything died and decayed. Not just that it did, that it should. There would be no future there, and it would probably end before Imoen could get attached enough to hurt afterwards. She was a smart girl, she'd come to these conclusions soon enough.

Rana would have to watch what she said to Imoen from now on. She'd only been thinking of the ensuing whirlwind romance that the tiefling could no doubt provide her sister. She hadn't thought of the pain it could inflict when it ended. Maybe writing Aerie for help wasn't such a bad idea after all. Imoen would quickly see how false his affections were once the pretty little avariel was around. And they were false. They were always false.

The voices of the archers could be heard now as Rana neared them. She didn't have a plan, but she was still riding the high of pulling off that assassination so cleanly that she figured dealing with these fools wouldn't be too much trouble. Shrugging her bow off her shoulder, she approached their leader, hoping she remembered his name correctly.

"Captain… Erelon?"

"Aye, that's me, love. Are you another little tavern wench who's gotten it into her head that the big wide world is a better place to be than this shit hole? You'd be the second one today, you would. Don't much blame ya for wanting to get out. But we don't need some lass to babysit. Unless you're looking to do our cooking and rubbing our feet at the end of the day. Am I right, boys?"

The men, who'd turn to listen, gave a few cheers at that. Man, this guy liked the sound of his own voice.

"Course there are other needs you could help us tend to, as well. We're always on the lookout for that kind of help. Come on, let's see ya face."

The captain reached out to pull Rana's hood back, but she jerked away before he could.

"I'm horribly ugly. Completely disfigured. Birth defect, I'm afraid. I'm also a lousy cook and feet gross me out. How about we see if you can use that bow of yours or if it's just there to compensate for something… lacking."

"Compensate? Now, little bit, you shouldn't be going around trying to insult a man's pride like that. Bad things could happen to ya and ya don't want that now do ya?"

"So how about you teach me a lesson and prove me wrong? Friendly little competition. You and me. Winner gets that bow of yours."

"You want to see who's a better bow man? Hah! You're a cheeky runt, aren't ya? There's no way I'm breaking a sweat to prove to some little bitch that I'm better. Unless, of course, ya wanna stop playing around and show us your face, I may decide to reconsider. I have me doubts you're ugly at all, your voice is too pretty. Come on, love, I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

"Have it your way."

Rana had an arrow knocked before the man could blink, and sent it through his left eye when he did so. While Captain Erelon fell to the ground, she fired off another at the next closest mercenary, catching him in the throat. The third fell as the others finally reacted and began to draw. The fourth dropped just before she lunged to the side, rolled, came up on one knee, and took out the fifth.

Pain blossomed in her right shoulder as she let her next arrow fly, the impact of the projectile causing her shot to go wide. Dropping her bow, she unsheathed one of her short swords with her left hand, dodged the next arrow, and advanced on the two remaining archers.

The nearest man threw his bow down and withdrew a scimitar. Ignoring the arrow in her shoulder, and the pain radiating from it, she parried the man's panicked slash and then ducked to avoid the next shot from the seventh man.

It was difficult to close and dodge more arrows. Rana suddenly realized her arrogance may be about to get her killed. Trying to keep the man with the scimitar between her and the other archer, it was all she could do to fight back when her right arm barely worked. She was far too used to wielding two swords at once rather than just one.

Fear seized her when the other man threw his own bow aside and withdrew two long swords. Skipping back, she parried and dodged as best she could, eyes darting wildly for an escape. The closest man charged and rammed her with his shoulder, knocking her hard onto her back. Throwing her sword up, she caught his downward slash, but the blow jarred her weapon right out of her hand. Kicking out, she caught him in the leg and he stumbled back. Even as she tried to rise, she knew it was over. The man took a step back toward her, readying to finish her off. The end of a sword suddenly exploded through the middle of his chest, stunning both of them.

Rana looked up into the face of her savior as the mercenary fell and sighed with relief.

"I never thought I'd be this happy to see you, but-"

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Sarevok roared at her, loud enough to make her flinch.

"What the Hell do you mean what the Hell am I doing? What's it look like? I was kindly asking these nice men to hand over a bow I wanted and, okay, some things might have gotten lost in translation-"

"IS THIS A GAME TO YOU?!"

For a second, she honestly thought he might attack her. He looked furious, eyes glowing brightly, hand clenched around the hilt of his sword. Glancing around, having just remembered the last man, she saw the two halves of him laying nearby. Satisfied they were all dead, she turned back to Sarevok.

"I dunno why you're so pissed off. If I die, then you can move on to our sister and start trying to seduce her into ascending. She might actually go for it."

That was, perhaps, the wrong thing to say. Stabbing his sword into the ground, he advanced on her. Reflexively, she backed away, knowing full well that she couldn't possibly fight him right now. He snatched her by the arms and pulled her to him, making her gasp as pain flared throughout the entire upper right side of her body. This seemed to quell some of his rage as his grip instantly relaxed and he looked at the wooden shaft protruding from her shoulder.

"Hold still."

Gently, he wrapped one hand around the fletching, then looked her in the eyes, waiting for her nod of readiness. Taking a deep, bracing breath, she gritted her teeth and gave the go ahead.

Her left hand shot out to grab his arm, needing something to hold onto as agony screamed through her when he snapped the feathered end off of the arrow. Panting, she dug her nails into the skin of his forearm, trying not to move any more when he reached around to slide the arrow out. He caught her when she sagged against him, suddenly light headed from the pain.

"Drink," he ordered her as he withdrew a healing draught from his bag and pressed it to her lips.

She obeyed, swallowing the syrupy stuff until the pain disappeared and feeling returned to her right arm. Pushing the bottle away, she tried to back up but he only tightened his hold on her.

"Now. Tell me why the fuck you thought it was a good idea to take on eight men at once. By yourself."

"I might have been feeling a little cocky. And I really wanted that asshole's bow."

"Then why didn't you just use your half of our soul to alert me to your location so I could come assist you?" He asked her through gritted teeth.

"Um. It never occurred to me?"

The look he gave her had her dropping her eyes and trying, unsuccessfully, to wiggle out of his grasp.

"Alright, fine, it was stupid, now let me go."

"Stupid? Storming out of the house and heading into town alone without telling anyone where you're going is stupid. This was borderline suicidal, Rana!"

"What do you care? Like I said, Imoen-"

"YOU THINK I WANT HER?!"

"STOP YELLING AT ME! AND WHY WOULDN'T YOU? SHE'S AS MUCH CHANCE OF BEING THE ONE THE PROPHECY IS ABOUT AS ME!"

"BUT SHE ISN'T YOU!"

That made her stop struggling to get away. Looking up at him, she tried to read it in his face if he'd actually meant that. Letting her go, he sighed and stepped away toward the fallen captain. Wrapping her arms around her stomach, suddenly feeling vulnerable and hating it, she silently watched him snatch up the gleaming black bow. Without a word, he handed it to her, along with her short sword and discarded bow. Avoiding his gaze, she slipped her blade into its sheath, and slung both short bows over her shoulder.

"How did you know where I was?" She asked quietly, needing to fill the silence.

"The Harper started yelling at Valygar that she was right all along. That I had corrupted you, and when she confronted you about it, you left. The ranger was going to try and go after you, but I told him I would go. I think he agreed because of how angry that obviously made the bitch."

"She gives you far too much credit."

"Indeed. I haven't even officially begun trying to corrupt you yet."

For some reason, she felt heat flood her cheeks at that. When she opened her mouth to respond, shouts rang out from the other side of the archery range.

"Someone called the guards. We have to go. Now!" Sarevok hissed, pushing her in the opposite direction while he grabbed and sheathed his sword.

Running toward an alley, they got out of sight just as the first of the town guard showed up.

"You mean you don't want to stay and fight them?" Rana asked in mild surprise as they picked their way through stacks of crates and barrels.

"You bought a house in this town. That means you want to stay here awhile, yes?"

"Well, yeah, but-" she was cut off as voices could be heard behind them.

Silently, they turned down another alley and began trying to make their way back home without being spotted. He was right. If they were seen, they wouldn't be able to stay in this town any longer. Not after the guard noticed the men they'd killed in broad daylight.

"This way," she whispered, cutting through a yard that led to another alley between a few closed down shops.

When she was about to dart out onto a street that led to the town square where they could blend into the crowds, Sarevok grabbed her around the waist from behind and pulled her into a shadowed doorway. Just in time to avoid the six heavily armed soldiers coming down that way.

Sinking back further into the shadows, they watched the men slow and look down the alley. Holding her breath, she started to reach for her swords but his hand touched her wrist to stop her.

"Don't," he breathed, pressing her into the stone wall of the building.

She let him, his much larger body blocking the men from view, and she found herself looking up at him, watching his face as he turned his head to watch the men. When she heard them begin moving away, back up the street, she let out the breath she didn't realize she was still holding.

"That was close," she whispered.

He didn't reply as he turned to look down at her. Her hood had pulled back at some point during the fight with the archers, revealing most of her face. Raising a hand, he slipped it back even further, then let the backs of his fingers trail down her cheek. Her heart sped up at just that contact as his eyes burned into hers.

He was going to kiss her again. She couldn't let that happen. But when his rough hand slid around to cup the back of her neck, with his earlier words still echoing in her head, and the adrenaline from the fight and their flight still pumping through her, she couldn't remember why.

"The next time you want to come slaughter people, tell me," he murmured, face only inches from hers, his thumb brushing across her lower lip. "So I can at least try and reign you in a little so you don't bring the town down around us."

"Look at you being the voice of reason and restraint," she breathed.

He chuckled, and the sound of it made her stomach do weird things. She wasn't used to him being like this. He seemed more… human. Approachable. None of which helped her at all. He was trying to use her, she had to remember that. If she let herself forget… well, she only had to think of Yoshimo's letter to remember why she shouldn't become involved with anyone. Especially a man who had already made his intentions known.

"Rana…"

The sound of more shouting jerked them both back to reality. The guards were coming down the alley from the way they had come. They needed to move.

Sarevok leaned around the side of the archway, glancing up and down the street, then motioned for her to slip past him. As she began to, a movement in the shadows across the alley caught her attention and she stopped.

Several sets of wide eyes blinked at her, all of them emerald in color. Four tiny kittens sat huddled together, so close she couldn't discern which ones were what color, gazing fearfully up at her.

"What are you doing?" Sarevok hissed. "Go!"

"Help me grab them!"

"Are you insane, woman?!"

"Please!"

He didn't answer, just grabbed her and pushed her out onto the street, holding her by the arm to keep her from going back.

"Oh, come on!"

"We are not stopping to catch feral kittens while there's guards swarming this area looking for anyone suspicious looking!"

"Ugh, whatever, I'll go back later then, Captain Killjoy."

"What did you just call me?"

"You heard me."

"If we weren't in public…"

"You wouldn't do a damn thing cause that title fits you, and you know it."

"Rana," he growled through clenched teeth.

"Sarevok."

As they reached the town square, and the noise and chaos that engulfed it as merchants hawked their wares, people haggled over prices, and packs of children scampered under foot, he reluctantly released his hold on her.

"Forget about the damn kittens," he said as a dozen armed soldiers appeared behind them and began taking up observatory positions around the marketplace. "This place is going to be crawling with guards for the rest of the day."

"Fine. I'll come back tomorrow."

"Fine. I'm coming with you."

"No, you're not. I don't wanna listen to you complain, and I know you'll try and stop me from taking all of them!"

"The fuck are you going to do with four cats?"

"Cuddles. Lots and lots of cuddles," she responded gravely, then grinned up at him as a memory suddenly popped into her mind. "I seem to recall you promising me you'd get me a pet when we were children."

"I made you a bunch of foolish promises. They don't count for anything now," he replied harshly, and looking straight ahead.

"But you sure do like to bring them up when they support your pursuit of power."

"And you sure do like to ignore them, then expect me to honor the one you like the most."

"A habit I picked up from you, I guess."

"We can do this all day, Rana, but I'm not going to let you put everything at risk for some kittens."

"It sounds like you're implying kittens are somehow less important than power. Which explains everything anyone needs to know about you."

"This conversation is over."

Intentionally bumping into a well dressed woman, and slipping her bejeweled bracelet into her cloak, Rana glanced up in time to see Sarevok looking down at her with a look she couldn't interpret.

"What?"

"I just don't understand you. How you can turn your back on godhood without a second thought, yet you have to be physically restrained from trying to catch some cats in the midst of running from the town guard."

"I thought you said the conversation was over."

"You were reared by a Harper to be a ranger, yet you're as sticky fingered as any common thief. You have enough gold to purchase a house on a whim, yet you steal like you're destitute. You fight our father's influence, yet you gleefully throw yourself against overwhelming odds unnecessarily. You're a walking contradiction, Rana, and I can't wrap my mind around it."

"It's part of my charm."

Sarevok snorted and pressed through the throngs of people, elbowing his way toward a less busy avenue leading home. She fell in step behind him, letting him part the waves of humanity so she wouldn't have to. A person with even just an average amount of intelligence would take one look at the Deathbringer and get out of his way. While most of the time she got stepped on.

"Have you thought of one day returning to Baldur's Gate?" He asked suddenly.

"Um, kind of. I don't exactly have fond memories of the place, but there's a score that still needs to be settled there."

"With whom?"

"Duke Eltan."

"For what? Despite the fact the man's a self-important little worm, that is."

"He's the one who politely kicked me out of the city before I could finish recovering from our fight."

Sarevok stopped so suddenly that she collided with him and nearly fell backwards. He resumed walking and didn't speak again until they were finally out of the crowds and relatively alone.

"You had said that the Grand Dukes found out about our relation and that it was no longer safe to stay in the city. You were referring to Duke Eltan in particular?"

"Yes. He approached me a fortnight after our fight and thanked me some more for saving the city, told me he was in my debt, and all of that. Then he said that he knew about us, and that the other Grand Dukes had found out as well, and were calling for me to leave or be arrested. He insinuated that the people of the city would find out soon enough, probably because he was planning on telling them, and so he thought it best if I left without any fanfare."

"Even though you had saved his ass and you were still wounded."

"Yes."

"I see. I hadn't intended to ever return, but now…" he trailed off, eyes softly glowing.

"Hey, this is my vendetta. And since I'm not planning on ascending, I'm going to be the one who kills him once this war is over."

"You could make his life considerably more unpleasant if you were a goddess, little one."

"I could, couldn't I? Too bad that's never gonna happen."

"Why? You've never given me a solid reason as to why godhood repulses you so. Not that there is any reason profound enough, but I'm curious as to what crazed delusions you've conjured up to justify it in your mind."

"You seriously can't think of a single reason why ascending to fight over a portfolio with a madman, then, if I survive and somehow win, having to insert myself into divine politics and listen to my followers whine and beg for things, all while trying to hold onto the power I've obtained while also trying to steal other's in order to secure my powerbase… none of this sounds unappealing at all to you?!"

"No."

"Speaking of delusions…"

"Fighting and killing a god, even a mad one like Cyric, should be tempting enough. And then to take his place among the pantheon of not just other gods, but Greater Gods, is more than enough reason to risk anything and give up everything. You would be worshipped. I would think that would be enough to alleviate any misgivings about listening to your sheep bleat their desires at you. And the eternal struggle for power and dominance, constantly testing your strength against those equal in power… I ask again, why pass this up? What could possibly tie you down to the point that you'd actually want to remain a mortal among a horde of other insignificant peasants?"

"Kittens."

"Must everything be a joke to you?"

"Everything? No. But I see no reason to take everything so damn seriously. It's why I'm happier than you are. You can't ever just be satisfied with what you have. Which is more than most 'insignificant peasants', I might add."

"Happiness? The fuck is that, little fool? A fleeting emotion that you allow to manipulate you into thinking you could actually be content with this pointless life you wish to lead. It weighs you down just as much as that sister of yours."

"Only you would find the concepts of happiness and contentment beneath you. And it's not surprising at all that you think caring about someone 'weighs you down'. This may be a mind blowing revelation for you, but it is possible to not consider people you're close to, and that love you, as expendable pawns to use and discard at your leisure. I'll give you a minute to process that. I understand it may be difficult for you."

"Ah, so now we're on the topic of 'love'," he sneered. "Which I find surprising that you would bring up on the heels of 'happiness'. How has love turned out for you, Rana? How happy has it made you? Do you have fond memories of those you loved? And that claimed to love you? Tell me, how has love helped you in the past?"

Rana stopped walking. Yoshimo's words swam through her mind, taunting her just as cruelly as Sarevok was doing. Gorion's actions, from the raid to never telling her about her parentage, had been done out of "love". Even other ghosts, like Tamoko, resurfaced in her memory to haunt her. That woman had loved Sarevok, she assumed, and how had he treated her? Winksi, too, his mentor, had also deeply cared for the man. And how had Sarevok repaid that kind of devotion?

He may not be aware of the letter that Rana had only just found, but he knew more than enough to be aware of just how painful his words could be to her.

Noticing that she had stopped, he turned and looked at her, noting her struggle to keep the fury and pain at bay. Had he any shred of decency, or empathy, he would have simply stopped talking. Had he any warmth or regard for her feelings at all, he would have apologized. Rana should have remembered, yet again, who she was dealing with.

"I see you're clever enough to at least know that I speak the truth. You waste these frivolous feelings on others, and in turn devour the lies they feed you about valuing you at all. If you're that pathetic and desperate for attention, though, that you think you need the smoke and mirrors that go hand in hand with something like love, then I suppose it's my fault for expecting more out of you. I can see now how something like becoming a god would be frightening to you. Not enough pretty little illusions for you to hide behind and fool yourself with."

"Thank you," she whispered, as she resumed walking again.

"For?"

"Reminding me why I should hate you."

"Bah! You think I concern myself with how you feel about me? If anything, it pleases me to know you're still capable of being rational, as I've given you little cause to feel otherwise."

"Indeed."

Rana lengthened her stride, despite the futility of it, as he could easily keep pace with her. Her house loomed before them. She hoped Keldorn had made it back with those two servants. The first thing she was going to do was send them into town for wine, so she could lock herself in her room and forget all this.

"I hope I've somehow gotten it through that stubborn head of yours that your entire life, and everything you've done and gone through, is completely wasted if you don't accept the gifts fate has in store for you."

"Were I you, Sarevok, I would shut the fuck up right about now."

"Did I strike a nerve, girl? Good. It means some of this is sinking in, even if you don't wish to acknowledge it."

Rana laughed, and it sounded eerie even to her.

"You really think you've somehow gained some sort of advantage here? That by pissing me off, it proves you were right all along? That all the bullshit you just told me is similar to things I've been thinking all along and have just not wanted to admit it, or something? Do you think that once I've calmed down, I'll realize your wisdom is invaluable and I'll seek you out, willing to do whatever it is you want in order to further receive your counsel?"

"Rana, if you possessed even a modicum of intelligence, you would do just that. I grow tired of playing these games with you. It's like trying to teach a child, and I haven't the patience for it. How I did so when we were young-"

"Remember early this morning, you tried to see if I could say that I don't want anything between us? Well, I don't want anything between us. Leave me alone. I don't want anything to do with you. I am glad, though, that you were able to thoroughly convince me that my memories of us together as children are a complete waste of space inside my head. Thanks for that. I wish Gorion had just killed you. I wish I had never brought you back."

And with that, Rana opened the front doors of her home, stepped inside, and slammed them shut behind her.