"Did you have to do this?
I was thinking that you could be trusted
Did you have to ruin
What was shining? Now it's all rusted
Did you have to hit me
Where I'm weak? Baby, I couldn't breathe
And rub it in so deep

Salt in the wound like you're laughing right at me..."

For the first time in a long while, Del's sleep was undisturbed by dreams, pleasant or otherwise. Upon awakening, he wondered what the Emperor had been up to the previous night – but his questions were soon answered by the perturbed expressions on his companions' faces as they began to stir nearby.

"Let me guess, we all had the same dream again?" Astarion asked as he uncrossed his legs and stood up from where he had been meditating in a corner.

Karlach and Shadowheart nodded, rising from their beds. Everyone had slept in the room the Harpers were using as a combined infirmary and guest quarters. It was far more comfortable than the tent-and-bedroll setup that Del had grown used to on the road, though it did lack privacy. The previous night, they'd all had to listen to the incoherent groans and mutterings of the infirmary's single patient; the man who'd been found wandering the shadowlands. He was unable to awaken fully, but yet restless enough to periodically call out for his mother or someone named Thaniel. This morning, he lay quietly in his bed in the corner as everyone else compared notes on their dreams.

"He appeared to me as the tiefling, at first," Karlach said. "But I told him I've seen everything already, so there wasn't any point in hiding all the tentacles."

Shadowheart snorted. "So you told him you wanted to see his mind flayer form? I didn't think you were into that."

"Am not!" Karlach protested. "What did you see?"

"His true form, but only because it was just too strange imagining him as the Mother Superior now that I know what he really is."

"He didn't even try pretending to be Mystra again," Gale contributed. "I wonder – were we all dreaming of him in parallel, or did he speak to us one at a time?"

"One at a time, probably," Del offered. "If it was all at the same time, then wouldn't you see each other in the Prism? Kind of like… that other time?" Everyone turned to look at him, as if they'd briefly forgotten he was still in the room. "So, what did he say to you all?"

"A lot of excuses, mostly," Shadowheart remarked as she combed her long inky-black hair in preparation for putting it in the usual ponytail. "As to why he didn't reveal himself earlier, and how he's our only hope of surviving and defeating the Absolute. I wonder what he's getting out of this. Protecting us, I mean."

"He didn't tell you?" Del asked, surprised. "He's trying to avoid being enslaved by the Absolute, same as you or me. Fighting the Absolute is equally good for him and all of us."

"Well... He did say he didn't want to work for the Absolute," Shadowheart admitted. "But enslaved – really? I didn't think mind flayers, well... minded being part of a hive."

"He's not like most illithids," Del explained. "He still remembers being human, and he doesn't want to be just a cog in the Grand Design. And I think the Absolute is pretty controlling even by Elder Brain standards. The one in Oryndoll was pretty hands-off from what I've overheard, but the Emperor says the Absolute tried to control his every move."

Gale was listening to their conversation with great interest. "That explains a lot. From what I've heard, retained memories are considered to be something like a disease or mental illness among illithids?"

Del nodded. "It's called partialism, and it really freaks them out. Minor cases can be fixed with some kind of psychic surgery, but illithids hate it when someone else messes with their minds. If they refuse that or if it's a bad case that makes them act too different, they could get kicked out of the colony."

"So this Emperor has gone rogue, then," Gale said. "But we shouldn't be too quick to dismiss his help, even if his motives are not entirely altruistic. He's proved to be quite a useful ally already, so we need to stay on his good side."

"Thanks for hearing him out, at least," Del said. He meant to continue the conversation in more depth, but something had been nagging at him since he'd awakened, and he suddenly realized what it was. "I was going to ask Scion if he dreamed about the Emperor too, but I haven't seen him around this morning. Do any of you guys know where he went?"

Karlach shrugged as she checked over her weapons and strapped her axe to her back. "Haven't seen him. He must still be inside somewhere, though. Get too far out of this place and the shadows start closing in."

Everyone else seemed rather unconcerned by Scion's absence as they made final preparations for their reconnaissance mission to Moonrise Towers. During the conversation with Jaheira the previous night, it had been decided that the majority of the party would pose as True Souls undergoing a pilgrimage to the Towers to receive their orders from General Thorm himself. For months now, the Harpers had been gathering intelligence about the goings-on inside Moonrise Towers from afar. Now that they had access to a group of tadpoled adventurers that could pass as True Souls, the game had changed dramatically. It had been decided that everyone aside from Scion, who might be recognized as an escaped prisoner, and Del, who was too conspicuous due to his partial illithid state, would be charged with infiltrating the Towers from inside.

The four of them set off with the moonlantern they'd taken from the drider as soon as the sky underwent the subtle lightening that passed for daylight in the shadowlands. Del stayed with the party long enough to see them off on their journey, but then decided to go looking for Scion, who still hadn't shown up that morning. His continued absence was beginning to get worrying...

Scion was not in the inn's central hall, which was mostly empty at this hour of the morning. The other rooms on the main floor had closed doors and seemed private, so Del cautiously ascended the creaking wooden stairs up to the second level. He hoped Jaheira wouldn't mind – he wouldn't try to open any locked doors, and if asked, he'd tell the truth. He was only looking for a friend.

It didn't take long to find Scion upstairs. The white dragonborn paced back and forth in the hallway in front of one particular door, eyes wild and clawed hands clenched into fists. Then he stopped and reached for the doorknob, jiggling it back and forth ineffectually. The door was locked, and Scion broke off with a faint growl and began pacing again.

Del hesitated for a moment. What on Toril was going on with him? Scion had been acting oddly since the day before when he nearly threw a knife at Jaheira, but Del had chalked it up to what he'd said about panicking upon being restrained. Now, he realized just how little any of them – including Scion himself – truly knew about their newest companion.

"Hey," he called out telepathically, not wanting to make any noise that would alert anyone behind the door who hadn't yet heard Scion's footsteps. "What's going on?"

Scion seemed not to hear, so Del repeated the query, this time reaching out a hand to touch the dragonborn's arm.

Scion startled at the contact and turned to face Del, his eyes opening wide enough to show the white sclera around his red irises. "What?" he said, then seemed to realize who he was looking at. "Del? Where are we? What are we doing here?"

"I was just about to ask you the same question," Del asked. "Were you sleepwalking or something?" He realized that was the most likely explanation based on the expression of utter confusion on Scion's face.

"It must have been a dream," the dragonborn looked down at his hands. "Say, have you met the cleric yet? The one keeping up the barrier around this place?"

"Uh... No. Not yet," Del answered aloud, forgetting to speak silently due to his surprise at the abrupt change of topic. "Jaheira told me about her last night, but she went to bed early and has been in her room ever since. Maybe we'll meet her today... But why do you ask?" A thought occurred to him just then. "Wait, is this her door you were sleepwalking to?"

"If you do meet her, do it without me," the dragonborn said with a haunted expression. "I think this is her room, and in my dream I was inside it with her. That's why I was asking, to see if she actually looked anything like the person I saw."

"What was the dream about? What did you do with her?"

No response. Del noted Scion's distress and reluctance to answer further, so he tried another tactic. "Was it something bad? Do you think the dream could have been sent by the Absolute?"

"Maybe... I don't know." The dragonborn rubbed at his eyes with one scaly knuckle. "Do you promise you won't repeat this to anyone?"

Del nodded, and continued his half of the conversation silently as well – you never knew who could be listening. "Don't worry, I know what it's like to have secrets. This can stay between us."

"All right..." Scion sighed. "Don't make me regret trusting you." There was something darker in his tone now, with the barest hint of a threat. "There was this thing, like a goblin, but uglier. He told me to kill Isobel, the cleric keeping up the barrier. He promised a great reward if I did this, and harsh punishment if I were to fail. And then the next thing I knew, I was doing it. At least, in the dream. Thank goodness the door was locked and I don't know how to pick it. Because killing Isobel just felt so... right, somehow. As if it was something I was meant to do."

"Thats... not ideal," Del said nervously. "You said the voice of the Absolute was feminine, but this thing was male? Maybe it's some new tactic? Or maybe...Sometimes a dream is just a dream."

"I hope so," Scion shook his head doubtfully. "But I have a bad feeling about this. That little goblin-man looked... Familiar. I feel like I've seen him somewhere before. And I've had these violent urges other times, too. Both awake and in dreams. I thought it was just because all I remember around me since waking up at Moonrise is violence, whether from Kressa or the other cultists... But now I'm not so sure."

Suddenly, there was a loud thud from behind the door they were standing in front of, forcing them to table the conversation for later.

"What was that?" Del asked. "Do you think we should investigate?" The thud was followed by several muffled bangs and what sounded like something being dragged across the floor. "Ah, shit – we probably should."

Del rapped at the wooden door sharply with his knuckles, briefly wondering if this could be something other than a battle. It was a woman's room, after all, and after recent events he was more sensitive than usual to the idea of walking in on someone.

There was no response other than a strange, muffled noise that could have been a moan or someone trying to speak through a gag. Del hesitated for another moment, but Scion decided the course of action for him by roughly pushing past him and aiming a powerful kick at the door.

"Hey, you didn't need to -" Del started to say, upset at his companion's lack of concern for property or discretion – but the words died in his throat as he laid eyes on the scene inside the room. A man, dressed in the same uniform as some of the non-Harper occupants of the inn, had his hand over the mouth of a struggling woman who could only be Isobel. Her silver hair was in disarray and streams of black makeup ran down her cheeks as she tried to scream or bite down on the hand restraining her. One of her own hands went up, perhaps trying to form the gesture for a spell, but the man roughly forced it down.

The doors to the balcony at the back of the room had been flung open, which must be how Isobel's attacker had gotten inside. The man drew back in surprise when Del and Scion burst into the room, then did something that left Del in a state of utter shock. He dropped one hand from his intended victim and began to pull at his own armor, undoing the sections that surrounded his torso. The armor fell to the ground, freeing up room for a pair of enormous black... wings?... to burst open from where they had been pressed tightly against his back. Feathers stuck out at odd angles, making the man look like a giant disheveled crow.

Isobel struggled partially free while the man's attention was diverted, and yelled out a short incantation that caused blue-white flames to burst from her free hand and sear her attacker's arm.

"Marcus!" she cried. "Why are you doing this?"

The man didn't answer, instead striking her hard across the face with one hand while his other reached for the sword hanging at his belt.

Del drew his own sword – thankfully, he'd armed himself along with the rest of the party by force of habit when they'd gotten ready that morning, even though he wouldn't be going with them to Moonrise - and charged at the man, arriving just in time to deflect the blow before it struck the cleric. Isobel managed to wriggle entirely free of her attacker's grip and jumped back, trying to get enough distance between them to flee or cast another spell.

Just as Del was about to properly engage the winged attacker, there was a flurry of winged figures at the balcony doors, and the room was suddenly invaded by nearly a dozen flapping monstrosities that looked like some kind of undead ghouls or gargoyles.

"Jaheira!" Del yelled as loud as he could, hoping that the High Harper or someone downstairs would hear him. "We need some help up here!"

Scion, who had seemed momentarily paralyzed by the sight of the cleric from his dreams, now jumped into action against the winged horrors. He pulled the ever-present dagger from its sheath at his belt and snarled as he used it to rip jagged tears through one of the creatures' tissue paper-thin wings. In this way, the dragonborn managed to beat back a few of the winged horrors, but was soon swarmed by the rest. Del wanted to help, but the armored man with wings kept advancing on Isobel, not leaving her enough room to cast whatever spell she was now preparing. So Del distracted the man with a flurry of slashing blows with his sword. The attacker blocked them all, but at least Del had managed to get him further away from the cleric who was clearly his primary target.

Multiple pairs of footsteps pounded up the stairs behind them, making Del's heart soar in relief at the promise of reinforcements.

"Marcus?" cried a female voice behind him from beyond the splintered door.

A sterner, accented voice – Jaheira, most likely – demanded, "What is the meaning of this?"

"Stay back!" Marcus threatened. "I'm taking her with me!"

"Like hells you are!" Another Harper yelled back, and they all rallied to join Del and Scion in battle.

Through all the chaos of flapping wings and banshee-like screaming of the horror-creatures, Del kept his attention firmly on Marcus, driving him to the back of the room and then out onto the balcony beyond it. The other man matched him blow for blow, though he did falter when Del unleashed a telekinetic blast that nearly shoved him off the edge of the balcony. Unfortunately, Del had forgotten for a moment about the wings, which Marcus flapped to regain his balance and leap forward onto the balcony once more.

Del was caught off guard by the ferocity of this rebounding attack, but fortunately Scion was there beside him to block the traitor's blow. Un fortunately, the dragonborn's dagger was too short, and he ended up catching the blade Marcus's sword with his own raised arm, which would have been fully transected if not for his naturally armored scales.

Scion hissed in pain and drew back, but the sword was caught for a moment on the bone of his forearm. Marcus had to pull backward to wrench it out, and Del took advantage of the man's momentary overbalance to push him backwards the rest of the way and force him to the ground.

Del felt a swelling sense of power as the man struggled beneath his hands. He felt as if he could do anything – command him to stop fighting, or read his mind to see why he turned traitor, or even - He hesitated for a moment, wondering if these thoughts were really his own or some property of the tadpole - and that was just long enough for Scion to use his good hand to disarm the grappled Marcus and cut the traitor's head off with his own sword. Unlike with the blow Marcus had dealt to Scion, this time the blade went all the way through.

Scion raised his bloodied sword in victory, relishing his triumph... but then Del saw his brow furrow and his red-eyed gaze slowly turn to fix upon Isobel where she battled against a winged horror in a corner. There was something empty and wrong in those eyes, in the way that the dragonborn's hand twitched on the hilt of his stolen sword as he turned toward the Selûnite cleric…

Del readied himself to intervene if necessary, remembering what Scion had said about his dream-impulses, but then the dragonborn staggered. He shook his head like a dog, blinking in confusion, and seemed to come back to himself as he looked down from the cleric to his other hand; the one not holding the sword. Del followed his gaze, suddenly realizing just how badly Scion was hurt. His hand and wrist hung at an odd angle relative to the rest of his arm, only attached by scale and sinew. The upper end of his arm above the wound was bleeding heavily, with the periodic spurting that signified a cut artery. In another moment, Scion sat down hard on the inn's wooden floor, catching himself with his good hand as he struggled not to pass out.

Del cut down the last winged horror that had appeared beside him and was clawing at his shoulder, then came over to his companion's side. Everyone else still seemed busy finishing off the remaining creatures, so he held pressure around the dragonborn's forearm to prevent him from bleeding out before someone could heal him. The hand itself could be fixed easily enough by a regular healing spell, as long as it was performed soon and the limb was still at least partially attached.

Despite Scion's gruesome injury, Del couldn't help but think that it had been a blessing in disguise that the dragonborn was too woozy to direct his surge of aggression in a harmful direction. He had no idea why the voices in Scion's dreams were telling him to harm Isobel, but he really hadn't been looking forward to trying to stop him or explaining his dark urges to Jaheira when he didn't even know their origins himself.

As the Harpers finished off the rest of Marcus's nasty little minions, Isobel came over to Scion and cast a powerful healing spell as Del held his hand in the proper position relative to his arm.

Scion's eyes rolled up in his head for a moment as Isobel touched him, and he seemed to be elsewhere for a moment. Was he experiencing another of his lost memories? Del wished that healing spells were enough for him to recover his own... But he supposed enthrallment left damage more subtle than the obvious brain damage Scion had suffered.

"Thank you," Del said, since his companion seemed to be in no shape to thank the cleric for healing him. "I'm glad you're all right. Do you have any idea what that Marcus guy wanted with you?"

A shadow fell over Isobel's face. "I don't know…" she said. "It was so sudden. Marcus was a Flaming Fist, and we all thought he was on our side. Who knows how long he's been working for the Absolute?"

"This was no random attack," Jaheira said grimly, turning over the headless corpse and beginning to search the man's pockets for any clues as to his abrupt betrayal. "Isobel was the primary target here. The Absolute's agents know about our outpost here, and the source of our protection."

The dragonborn tried to avoid making eye contact with Isobel as he got to his feet, and Del realized this stemmed less from rudeness and more from a desire to perceive her as little as possible and avoid triggering any more of his strange urges. Del vowed to keep a careful eye on any interactions between the two of them from here on out.

"What in the Hells happened here?" Karlach exclaimed as the rest of the party was greeted with a grisly sight upon their return to Last Light Inn several hours later. The corpses of Marcus, the winged horrors, and an unfortunate tiefling refugee were all laid out in front of the inn awaiting burial, since it had been deemed too dangerous to attract the shadows by throwing even their enemies into the darkness.

"We leave you two alone for a few hours and this is what happens?" Shadowheart said in a feeble attempt at a joke.

Del and Jaheira updated the party on Marcus's sudden betrayal and kidnapping attempt, and in return the rest of them briefed those who had stayed behind on what they had found at Moonrise Towers.

"It's far worse than I thought," Jaheira said grimly once the others had told their tale. "So Ketheric is truly invulnerable, and there are dozens more prisoners in Moonrise than we were aware of. But if the Absolute is truly an Elder Brain as Del says, where are they keeping it? How does Ketheric tie into the illithids?"

"I'm still not sure," Shadowheart admitted. "Though Gale has his theories, as usual."

"I doubt the illithids would willingly ally themselves with someone like Ketheric," the wizard said. "Maybe he has some kind of leverage over them; something they want… Or perhaps they're the ones playing the long game, and Ketheric is being set up for a downfall that will further their Grand Design. Whatever is going on here, finding a way to kill him now should deal a decisive blow to both the cult and the colony."

Del nodded, taking in this new information. "So... A goblin stabbed Ketheric and he just shrugged it off? Any idea what's making him immortal – or is he actually undead? I didn't think illithids would work with undead, but who knows…"

"Again, unclear at the moment," Gale said. "But at least we have a clue pointing in that direction. We managed to keep our cover as True Souls intact, and the cultists charged us with a mission. We are to descend into the Sharran temple through a secret entrance in the Shadowlands and find Ketheric's missing disciple. Balthazar was doing something with a relic tied to Ketheric's invulnerability when they lost touch with him, and they're eager for him to be found. This disciple could lead us straight to the relic, and thus to the General's weakness."

"Whaddaya say, soldier?" Karlach asked Del. "And you, Scion? Are you two up for exploring that temple properly, from the top down this time?"

Del was tired of being left out of missions and jumped at the chance to get back in the group's good graces. "I'm in," he said, nodding at the others.

Scion stopped experimentally flexing his newly reattached hand and said simply, "Same."

Since it had already been a long day of battles, reconnaissance, and cleanup, they decided to enter the Shar temple the following morning.

Author's Note: Next week it'll be time for the Shar Olympics! Don't worry, we'll get some more focus (and therefore angst) on Del himself, since I feel like I've been making him take a bit of a backseat to Scion for the past few chapters.

Also LOL at my barbarian being upset that someone else kicked down a door... Del is a barbarian in my 2nd playthrough of the game, but not fully in the story - he's more of a fighter/barbarian hybrid, since he does go into rages that help in battle but he doesn't have a lot of the typical barbarian stereotypes like being kinda crude and violent or not wearing armor. It's more that he didn't always *have* access to armor in the past.

As always, please leave a comment if you enjoyed it! I always love to hear what people think about my story :)