As Orpheus glides through a shimmering portal into the heart of the battle, his presence immediately draws attention. Recognizing the imminent danger, Shadowheart swiftly weaves her incantations, conjuring a protective shield that surrounds him like an impenetrable fortress. Within this sanctum of safety, the mind flayer presses forward undeterred, his path unhindered by the chaos erupting around him.
Meanwhile, Bellamy and Echo engage in a breathtaking aerial dance with the dominated red dragon, their maneuvers orchestrated with precision as they lure the beast higher into the sky, away from their allies on the ground. With each coordinated strike, they chip away at the dragon's defenses, determined to neutralize the formidable threat.
Jaheira's transformation into a sleek panther grants her the advantage of stealth as she prowls through the shadows, her form disappearing from sight as she stalks the Dream Visitors. She closes in on her targets, ready to strike when the moment is opportune.
Delphie, with her keen eye and steady hand, takes aim with her new bow, unleashing a volley of arrows tipped with bullet-shaped heads. Each projectile finds its mark, punctuating the air with the thunderous echoes of their impact. The mind flayers, once arrogant in their dominance, are now sent reeling, plummeting helplessly into the depths below.
"Ar Vel, ivae," Astarion's voice resonates with satisfaction, a wicked grin playing upon his lips as the radiant blade ignites with a brilliant, otherworldly glow.
With a feral grace, he launches himself forward, both of his blades flashing in the smoke-covered sun. The Emperor, caught off guard by the sudden ferocity of the attack, manages to evade the first strike aimed with the spawn's off-hand, but finds himself unable to evade the full force of the radiant blade's onslaught.
Undeterred by the mind flayer's desperate attempt to defend himself, Astarion presses the assault, his movements a blur of speed and precision as he unleashes a flurry of strikes. The Emperor can do little more than lash out with his tentacles in a desperate bid to repel the vampire spawn's relentless advance.
You will obey, Astarion.
The Emperor's telepathic command cuts through the chaos of battle, a chilling reminder of the mind flayer's insidious power. Yet, Astarion's will remains unyielding, his defiance burning bright in the face of such mental intrusion. With a snarl of defiance, he rejects the mind flayer's attempt to subjugate his mind, his very being recoiling at the notion of surrendering control once more.
"No. No one will ever control me again," he declares. With a renewed sense of purpose, Astarion redoubles his assault.
High above the tumultuous battlefield, Delphie maintains her aerial vantage point, her bowstring singing as she continues to rain down a barrage of thunderous arrows upon their adversaries. Each shot finds its mark, sending enemies hurtling into the oceans below, their cries lost amidst the chaos of battle.
Yet, amidst her relentless assault, the wood elf's concentration is shattered by the sudden onslaught of flames, a searing torrent of fire breath unleashed by the cunning red dragon. With a yelp of pain, she feels the scorching heat singe her wing, her graceful flight disrupted as she struggles to maintain control amidst the inferno.
As Delphie's descent becomes less than graceful, a soothing blue warmth envelops her, a fleeting moment of respite amidst the chaos. Shadowheart's healing touch washes over her, easing the pain and restoring her battered strength. With a grateful nod, the wood elf acknowledges the cleric's timely intervention.
However, her moment of gratitude is short-lived as her attention is drawn back to the unfolding conflict below. Horror grips her as she witnesses the Emperor's tentacles lash out with terrifying speed, ensnaring Astarion in their paralyzing grip.
With a surge of determination, Delphie reaches for another arrow, only to find her quiver depleted. Discarding her bow with a frustrated gesture, she instead draws forth the twin daggers gifted to her by Astarion, their polished slate blades awaiting blood.
With a swift and fluid motion, she plunges her daggers into the mind flayer's back. For a fleeting moment, triumph surges through her veins as she watches the Emperor's form go limp, his psychic grip on their minds severed at last.
Yet, her trimuph is short-lived, for as the mind flayer collapses to the ground, Delphie's gaze falls upon a figure lying prone beneath him.
"Astarion?" she murmurs as she rushes to his side, pushing the limp body of the illithid off of him. The vampire spawn groans in pain, his features contorted with the agony of his injuries.
Delphie reaches into her pouch and withdraws a scroll, her fingers trembling slightly with urgency as she unfurls its ancient parchment. "Fitri di troth," she intones, her voice imbued with the power of the arcane as she speaks the words of protection.
In an instant, a golden dome of shimmering energy springs forth from the scroll, enveloping the elves in its protective embrace.
Astarion's once vibrant eyes now struggle to maintain their focus, the spark of life within them dimming with each passing moment. Despite the pain etched into every line of his face, he manages a weak smile as he gazes up at Delphie, his hand trembling as it reaches out to touch her face.
"He won't be bothering us anymore," he manages to whisper.
Sensing something amiss, Delphie's heart clenches with a sudden dread as she takes in the sight of her companion's failing form. With a sense of urgency, she grasps his face in her hands, her touch gentle yet urgent as she searches his features for any sign of what afflicts him.
A gasp escapes her lips, her eyes widening in shock as she takes in the sight before her.
His pallid skin is marred by the creeping tendrils of darkness, black veins snaking their way across his flesh like creeping tendrils of shadow. Delphie wastes no time in tearing away his leather armor, her hands trembling as she exposes the source of his affliction. "What did he do to you?"
Astarion's response is a hoarse cough. Yet, even in his weakened state, his gaze remains steadfast, his voice carrying a note of stern resolve despite the pain that racks his body. "Darling, you need to keep fighting."
Tears well in Delphie's eyes, her heart heavy with the weight of despair as Astarion's condition becomes increasingly dire. "No. Don't talk like that. I'll heal you. You'll be fine," she insists, her voice trembling with emotion as she refuses to accept the possibility of losing him.
Delphie's hands begin to glow with a radiant energy, her scales shimmering with a divine light as she presses her palms against Astarion's bare chest. "Seisu ezoukeic."
But to her shock and dismay, the golden energy of her healing spell seems to repel against Astarion's skin, as if his very essence rejects the benevolent touch of her magic. A sense of helplessness washes over Delphie as she stares down at her lover, her attempts at healing thwarted by some unseen force beyond her understanding.
"Seisu ezoukeic," she tries again, her voice tinged with desperation as she channels the healing energy once more, only to be met with the same result—nothing.
Frustration wells within her as she makes a third attempt, her hands trembling with exertion and fear as she struggles to overcome whatever barrier stands between her and Astarion's salvation. Yet, before she can make another futile attempt, Astarion weakly grasps her hands, his touch a gentle yet firm reminder of the reality they face. "You're wasting time and magic, Delphie."
"No. I'll figure something out. I'll call for Shadowheart. She'll be able to heal you—" Delphie's voice trembles as she casts her gaze towards the fray where Shadowheart valiantly battles against their adversaries. Yet, even as she speaks, a sense of desperation gnaws at her heart, the flickering of the protective dome around them a grim reminder of their dwindling time.
"You don't have time to sit here," Astarion's words are a gentle yet urgent plea as he struggles against the weight of his injuries. "They need you, my love."
Tears glisten in Delphie's eyes as she meets the vampire spawn's gaze, her heart torn to shreds. "I won't leave you. I promised you, you'll never be alone again," she whispers as she reaches out to caress his cheek with trembling fingers.
A faint smile graces Astarion's lips as he gazes up at her, gratitude shining in his weary crimson eyes. "Thank you for giving me a reason to live."
With a sudden gasp, the vampire spawn's body convulses as if seized by some unseen force, his breath coming in ragged gasps as if he suddenly needs to draw air into his lungs. Then, in an instant, his form grows limp, his eyes fluttering shut as the last vestiges of life slip away from him.
"Astarion?" Tears threaten to spill from her eyes as she desperately tries to rouse him from his unnerving stillness. With trembling hands, she shakes him roughly, her heart pounding with a mounting sense of dread as he remains unresponsive to her pleas.
"No. No. No," she whispers, her voice a broken refrain of denial as she stares down at the lifeless form of her beloved, her world crumbling around her with each passing moment.
As the protective dome surrounding them flickers and finally gives way, a horde of Absolutists surge forward, their malevolent intent written plain upon their twisted features. But before they can close the distance and lay their hands upon her, Delphie's grief ignites into a blaze of righteous fury, a primal scream of rage tearing from her throat with the force of a tempest unleashed.
In the wake of her cry, a wave of raw, unbridled energy surges forth, its power rippling through the air with a deafening roar. The Absolutists, caught off guard by the sudden outburst of rage, are hurled backwards with bone-crushing force, their forms sent hurtling off the edge of the Netherbrain to be swallowed by the abyss below.
"NO, ASTARION! DON'T LEAVE ME!" she screams, her voice a haunting lament that echoes around her.
As the chaos of battle rages around her, Delphie finds herself consumed by a singular focus, her world narrowing to encompass only the motionless form of Astarion lying before her. Yet, even as her grief threatens to overwhelm her, a sudden surge of movement catches her attention, and she feels the rush of air as Echo swoops in with a grace born of instinct and loyalty.
With a deft movement, Echo snatches both Delphie and Astarion in her powerful grasp, her claws securing their forms with a gentleness that belies her formidable strength. In any other circumstance, Delphie might have protested, might have fought against being whisked away from the heart of the battle. But not now. Not when every fiber of her being is consumed by the desperate need to save the one she loves.
Normally, Delphie would have screamed, cried out for Echo to release her, to return her to the fray where her friends need her most. But not today. Not when Astarion's life hangs in the balance, his very existence teetering on the precipice of oblivion. No, in this moment, the wood elf's sole purpose is to remain by his side, to do whatever it takes to pull him back from the brink of death.
Echo understands this unspoken vow, the unbreakable bond that exists between the elves transcending mere words or actions.
As the dragon gracefully lands them on the safety of a wide, towering rock, Delphie's grief pours forth in a torrent of tears that streak down her cheeks like silent rivers of anguish.
She watches with tear-stained eyes as Echo lands beside them, her somber gaze mirroring the depth of the wood elf's despair.
With a trembling hand, Delphie reaches out to touch the gem adorning the breastplate of her armor. "Please, Father. Ancestors. If you can hear me, help him," she implores. Closing her eyes, she bows her head, her other hand coming to rest upon Astarion's chest, directly over his undead heart.
"Opsola. Bafotruhki. Soves jacion spical ekess wer mitne," she murmurs for the miraculous power of her ancestors to breathe life back into the one she holds most dear.
But as the moments stretch into an agonizing silence, panic begins to rise within Delphie's chest, her hope faltering. Tears stream down her cheeks once again as she cries out in frustration. "Godsdammit! Why isn't it working?!"
Collapsing upon Astarion's still form, Delphie is overcome by a wave of anguish so profound it threatens to drown her. She clings to him desperately, her sobs wracking her body as she pours out her heart. "You don't deserve this. You wanted to live. I want you to live. Please, Astarion, come back to me," she pleads.
A choked sob escapes her lips as she presses her cheek against his chest, her heart aching with the emptiness of his absence. "I need you."
As Delphie's desperate pleas echo through the stillness of the night, a sudden shimmering presence materializes before her, coalescing into the form of Alden in his human guise, a spectral apparition of the man—or dragon—he once was. Behind him, a host of ethereal golden dragons materialize as well. Delphie's breath catches in her throat as she beholds the awe-inspiring sight before her, her tears flowing unabated in the presence of her ancestors.
"Father, please," she implores as she clutches Astarion tightly to her chest. "I can't bear to lose anyone else."
Alden draws near, his presence radiating a sense of comfort and reassurance amidst the turmoil of grief. With a solemn reverence, Echo bows her head in deference.
Delphie's father kneels beside the elves. Gently, he places a hand upon Astarion's head, his touch infused with a warmth that defies the chill of death. "He made a promise to me," Alden intones. "He cannot keep that if he is not by your side."
As Alden raises his hands to the heavens, his voice resonates with a power that transcends the mortal realm. Delphie watches with bated breath, a flicker of hope igniting within her heart at the sight of the spectral elf's invocation.
"Kereska. Bafotruhki, shala nomeno sthyr ekess waph huena throdenilt. Jacida tairais tepohaic sjerit ekess confn," Alden intones, his words carrying the weight of generations as he channels the sacred energy of their ancestors into a ritual of resurrection.
Suddenly, the vampire spawn's body rises from Delphie's lap, lifted by an unseen force that mirrors the miraculous rebirth she herself experienced not long ago. A radiant golden aura envelops him, casting a warm glow that bathes them in its ethereal light. Delphie's heart pounds in her chest as she watches, her eyes fixed upon Astarion's form.
Every scar etched into his skin begins to glow with a golden hue. His eyes are forced open, revealing orbs of pure gold in place of the crimson ones that once defined him. For a moment, the air is charged with a palpable sense of anticipation, a silent plea hanging in the balance as Delphie waits for any sign of life.
Then, as suddenly as it began, the glowing subsides, and Astarion floats gently back into her lap, his form cradled in her embrace once more. For a fleeting moment, the world seems to hold its breath.
But then, in a miraculous twist of fate, Astarion's eyes shoot open, the crimson orbs she so desperately loves shining with renewed vitality.
"Astarion," Delphie breathes in disbelief, her hands trembling as she cups his face in her palms, her touch a testament to the miracle that has unfolded before her eyes.
The vampire spawn's lips curve into a playful smirk, his gaze softening as he meets her eyes. "Now, you know how I felt when you died, my love," he breathes, his words a gentle tease laced with the warmth of his laughter.
Before Delphie can respond, Astarion brushes away her tears with feather-light kisses, his lips tracing a path of warmth and reassurance against her skin.
And then, in a moment that transcends words, the vampire spawn captures her lips in a passionate kiss. In that moment, time seems to stand still, the world falling away around them as they lose themselves in the sweet ecstasy of their reunion.
A playful smack lands lightly against Astarion's chest. "Don't scare me like that, you ass!" Delphie chides.
His laughter rings out in the air, a melodic sound that fills the wood elf's heart with warmth as he sits up, his movements fluid and graceful despite the lingering ache of his recent ordeal. With a gentle touch, he reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair from her face.
Delphie wastes no time in wrapping her arms around his neck, her embrace fierce and unyielding as if afraid that if she lets go, she'll lose him once again. Her heart pounds in her chest with each beat a silent prayer for his safety, her fears tempered by the comforting solidity of his presence in her arms.
As the wood elf's gaze shifts upward, she realizes with a pang of bittersweet sorrow that Alden and her ancestors have vanished. A sense of loss tugs at her heart, their brief reunion now nothing more than a fading memory etched into the fabric of her soul.
"I don't want to let you go, but I have to," Delphie whispers in the vampire spawn's ear.
"She is correct. Your companions need assistance," a voice booms from behind them.
Astarion's eyebrows shoot up in surprise at Echo's sudden interjection, his halfhearted glare directed toward the dragon. "Seriously? She was here the whole time?"
But Delphie's focus remains fixed upon Astarion, her fingers gently tracing the contours of his face as she turns his gaze to meet hers. "Stay here with Echo. I'll be back," she promises. Reluctantly, she releases her hold on him.
"Darling, you're mad if you think I'm going to sit here while you have all the fun," Astarion protests.
"You just died, Astarion."
The vampire spawn's smirk widens into a mischievous grin as he shrugs nonchalantly. "Not the first time that's happened, my love."
"Astarion, I'm serious," Delphie insists, her tone firm as she meets his gaze.
But the pale elf remains resolute, his stance unwavering as he rises to his feet, his arms crossing over his chest in a gesture of defiance. "So am I."
"I don't know if my father will be able to bring you back a second time," the wood elf confesses.
A fresh tear trails down her cheek, glistening in the faint light of the setting sun. Astarion reaches out to gently wipe it away, his touch a tender caress against her skin. "Oh, but that's half the fun," he teases.
"You're infuriating," Delphie retorts, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile at his response.
But before she can protest further, Astarion leans in to plant a kiss on her cheek, his lips cold against her skin. Delphie's heart skips a beat at the tender gesture.
With a determined glint in his eyes, the vampire spawn turns to face Echo as he prepares to mount the dragon once more. This time, he succeeds without assistance, his movements fluid and confident as he settles himself upon her back.
Turning back to his lover, he extends a hand to her with a gentle smile. "Let's go help our friends, shall we?"