THE GUARDIANS

'He's late,' the woman with the long, braided golden hair snapped. She'd turned to glare at the main entrance to the inn, then swung back again to snatch a cup of wine off the table in front of her. 'Gorion is never late.'

'It's only been an hour Jaheira, let us not give him up for dead just yet.'

Khalid dropped his gaze to the surface of the table as his wife turned her glare on him, quickly covering his mouth with his hand to hide the smile he felt forming. Unlike her he wasn't impatient yet, knowing that all manner of innocuous events could have occurred to slow down their old friend. But Jaheira would act and worry as she would, and that was one of the reasons he loved her.

'I know there is a smile hidden beneath your hand Khalid, because I know you better than you know yourself.' She sighed and took a sip from the cup in her hand. 'And I am not, as you say, giving him up for dead, but you remember well the words Elminster spoke; forces are on the move, and Gorion brings with him a heavy burden.'

For a while Khalid let the noise of the inn wash over him; the loud, jeering, and sometimes angry conversations from the patrons around them, the constant bustle and shouting from those who worked behind the bar, and the lively, if not particularly talented musical troupe who struggled to entertain an uninterested crowd. It was not a scene the quiet, reserved half-elf generally felt comfortable in, but right then this crowded, noisy inn and its local concerns were preferable to preparing for the events he knew were approaching. Not that those local concerns were unimportant, not with the iron crisis crippling the region, but they were of far less import than the divine crisis to come. And that at least counted as some kind of comforting thought.

A hot glare from his wife told him he'd missed something she'd said.

'Sorry?' He gave her a small smile that was not returned. 'I was lost in thought.'

'So I see,' she replied dryly. 'I will repeat myself for you. We should leave here now and attempt to find Gorion ourselves.'

Khalid bit off a sigh. That was his wife's impatience pushing to the fore again. He loved her dearly, but her lack of patience had put the both of them in troubles way on more than one occasion.

'My love, there are many miles between here and Candlekeep, and the chances of us encountering Gorion in the wilderness are slim.' He reached across the table to take her hand. 'He will be here, we just have to be patient.'

And there came that Jaheira glare again, though he noted this time it had less heat.

'As you wish, Husband.' She squeezed his hand, and he winced at the force she used. 'But if we find ourselves still waiting in the morning, then we are following my suggestion and searching for him. Are we agreed on that?'

Before he could give her his answer, the inn door opened once again, and Jaheira swung around to see who had entered. There were three of them, and none of them were Gorion. Leading the way was a tall man in a long green and brown cloak, with the hood pulled up to hide his face. Underneath the cloak he wore a shirt of iridescent green chainmail, and strapped to his back he bore a bastard sword and a longbow. An elf, Khalid surmised, the easy grace with which he moved giving that away. Immediately behind the elf was a small, pretty, auburn haired young human woman, clad in black leathers, with a shortbow over one shoulder and a shortsword at her waist. Bringing up the rear was a young human man, taller than the woman, but a lot shorter than the elf. Black hair fell to his shoulders in an unruly, curly mop, and underneath a long black tunic that he wore open, he had a longsword against his hip. An interesting looking trio, Khalid thought, but not of any concern or interest to them.

'If we are still waiting, then I agree,' Khalid replied, watching the trio approach.

'We'll find them Im, don't worry,' the young man said as they passed.

'How'd you know, Tal?' The woman caught Khalid looking and cast him a small smile. 'We don't even know what this Khalid and Jaheira look like. They could be anywhere in this place. Or anything.'

Jaheira traded a look with her husband and set the cup of wine down.

'Tal?' She leaned over the table to murmur the name at Khalid, lessening the chance of the three overhearing them. 'Do you think…?'

'Talessin,' he replied, twisting in his seat to stare after the young man. 'Elminster did say that Gorion was moving the boy.' He turned his attention back to Jaheira, a sudden sliver of worry working its way into his mind. 'But where is he?'

'Mayhap we should ask.' She planted her hands on the table and pushed herself to her feet. 'Let me do the talking.'

When Tal felt the hand fall on his shoulder, his first instinct was to push Imoen ahead of him and run. His second instinct was to draw his blade and cut the potential threat down. But common-sense overruled instinct and he did neither. He didn't believe anyone was likely to attack them here at the inn, not after the guard at the gate had explained the strict rules against violence, and the consequences should those rues be broken. So, instead he pasted a polite smile on his face and turned slowly to face the owner of the hand. A half-elven woman, with her long golden hair worn in braids, clad in woodland colours, and with a pair of scimitars strapped across her back, smiled back at him.

'Excuse me child?' Her smile might have been friendly, but her words were clipped and abrupt. 'Would you be Talessin, Gorion's ward of Candlekeep?'

'Who's asking?' His voice was polite but cool, and at his back he was aware of Imoen and Coran turning back to see what was happening.

'I am Jaheira, this is my husband, Khalid.' She hooked a thumb over her shoulder, indicating a brown-haired half-elf in her wake. 'We have been waiting for you.'

'Khalid and Jaheira?' Imoen barged her way past Tal and flung herself at the other woman, engulfing her in a desperate embrace, and crying happily into her chest. 'Oh, thank Tymora we've found you,' she sniffled. 'We didn't know if you'd be here.'

'Easy, child,' Jaheira said, half-heartedly patting her on the back and looking bemused by the younger woman. 'You have found us now.'

Tal rolled his eyes and took pity on Jaheira, pulling his sister away before she caused any more of a scene. Which he did far too late, as half the inn's patrons, including the musicians, turned from their drinks and instruments to watch the goings on.

'Maybe we should sit down,' the other half-elf offered. 'There are far too many eyes on us now for comfort.'

'A sensible suggestion,' Jaheira agreed. 'If you wish, we have a table back here.'

'An offer I shall be overjoyed to take you up on,' Coran said brightly, wearing a beaming smile. 'But first I require a drink, and the Mirrorshade's keep a stock of exquisite wine.'

'Very well,' Jaheira replied, her tone cool, very obviously dismissing the elf as unimportant.

The half-elven woman led them back to a rough looking table placed against the inn's inner wall and took a seat on one of two bench seats. Her husband slipped alongside her, leaving Tal and Imoen to sit across from them.

'Where is Gorion?' Jaheira didn't even give the pair a chance to get comfortable before firing off the question. 'It worries me, us, that he is not here with you.'

'He's dead,' Tal said shortly, bitterly, and they were the hardest words he'd ever had to say. The two half-elves wore almost identical expressions of shock. 'We were ambushed our first night from Candlekeep.' He looked down at the scarred, stained, and pitted tabletop, hoping that saying the words to an uncaring surface would make them easier to speak. It was a false hope. 'He gave his life so I could escape.' He looked up then, a bitter smile twisting his lips. 'And I almost failed him in that.'

Jaheira listened in growing horror as both Tal and Imoen took it in turns to tell the story of that night. She wanted to disbelieve the tale they told, after all she had seen Gorion cut loose with his magic and walk away from many a battlefield, but the look in their eyes, that of shock and stunned horror, was too genuine to be faked. So, no, she didn't disbelieve their tale, her old friend really was gone, and the burden of Tal was now on the shoulders of herself and Khalid.

Bitterness welled up inside her, and she wished then that Gorion had not found that small boy in the burnt shell of that old temple. She also wished that she'd been more strenuous in her objections that the boy should have been left for nature to deal with. If he had listened to her, if her words had gotten through to him, then in all likelihood he'd be alive, and not the first victim of a child born of murder. Oh, Tal hadn't wielded the blade that killed him, but he was responsible all the same, because it was his heritage that brought Gorion to his killer.

But was he aware at all of that heritage?

Gorion had been adamant when he took the boy that he would raise him without any knowledge of who and what he was. But the blood that ran through Tal's veins was not quiet, and the more days that passed, the more chance he had of listening to what promises it whispered to him and falling to the darkness that dwelt in his soul. She didn't think the blood controlled him yet, there was still an innocence about him that shone through, a brightness not yet consumed by the dark. Yet he was away from the serenity of Candlekeep now, and because of the mission Khalid and herself had accepted, the chances were high that blood would be spilled if he travelled with them, and therein lay the danger to him. Could Tal resist the temptation of his blood when battle was joined? She hoped so, because if he were to fall, then she would have broken her promise to Gorion.

'You are alive, Khalid was saying to him. 'You did not almost fail your father, he would be proud of you for listening to him and surviving that night.'

'That's what I keep telling him, Uncle Khalid,' Imoen interjected. 'But Tal's not always good at listening, especially not when he's beating himself up.'

And there was another problem for Jaheira to deal with. The girl, Imoen. She'd not expected her to be there, in fact she'd assumed Gorion would be leaving her behind, as he'd doubted if she shared any of Tal's heritage. But the girl was here now, an extra complication and responsibility that she neither needed nor wanted yet had no real choice but to accept.

'I aim to do more than survive from now on,' Tal replied to Khalid, and there was a cold note to his voice that Jaheira didn't like. 'Because I want to find the bastard who killed Gorion and kill him. I made a promise over his body that I would get revenge for him.'

'Foolish child,' Jaheira snapped. Tal's gaze snapped to meet hers, and she noted that his already dark eyes had darkened to a depthless black, a sight that chilled her heart, yet she carried on regardless. 'Do you think that is what Gorion would have wished you to do?'

'I-.'

'Have you even yet taken a life?' She carried on right over him, trying to not to look away from that black, furious gaze. He shook his head and tried to get a word in, but she was going to have her say. 'Then do not be so quick to threaten to do so. Taking a life is not an easy thing to do, and the very act of doing so will stain you more than you know. It is a line that once crossed you can never step back over again.'

'And what would you have me do? Sit on my hands while Gorion's killer walks unpunished?' He wasn't breaking his gaze either.

'I did not say that, all I am saying is that you should think hard and deep before you step foot on this path.' She kept her eyes on him still yet let the tone of her voice soften, trying to calm him down.

He held her gaze a moment longer, and then looked away. And Jaheira felt a weight lift from her shoulders, a weight she hadn't even notice settle there. When he looked back up, that depthless black had gone from his eyes.

'I have thought about it, I've thought about nothing else since the attack.' He sighed and Imoen put a hand on his arm, a gesture he thanked her for with a smile. 'And I have to do this. That man, whoever he is, took someone precious from the world, from me, and for that he has to pay.'

'Very well.' She sighed, reached for her cup and then thought better of it, pushing the drink away. 'Khalid and I made a promise to your father, long years ago, that should anything ever happen to him we would guide you in his stead. You are a man now, and in control of your own life, but if you wish it, we shall stand with you and help bring Gorion's murderer to justice.'

It wasn't a prospect she relished, helping one of his heritage to spill blood, but she could see it was a path he had already stepped foot on. So, maybe, just maybe, her presence in his life and the values she held to could help keep his inner darkness at bay. It was a faint hope, but one to hold on to if she wished to help her old friend one more time.

'Thank you,' he said simply, and smiled. And though that smile was sad, she could see in it the boy Gorion had delighted in, in all his many letters.

'There is a thing we must do first though, a task we have been set.' Two sets of eyes fixed on her curiously. 'You have heard of the iron troubles affecting this region?' Two nods answered her. 'We have been asked to investigate the mines at Nashkel and see if we can determine the cause of those troubles. Accompany us there, and afterwards we will leave no stone unturned in order to aid you.'

'Solve the iron crisis?' There was a wide smile on Imoen's lips, and her eyes shone with delight. 'Tal, we should go, we'd be heroes then, just like we always dreamed.'

'Like we always dreamed? Like I always dreamed you mean.' He gave the girl a fond smile. 'You just wanted to steal treasure from dungeons, remember?' She snorted loudly at that, but his attention was back on Jaheira. 'I guess we can help you, if you really want us along that is.'

From his lounging spot at the bar, Coran watched the four around the table, and considered what he was to do next. He took a sip of wine and let out a breath of delight as it hit his tongue. He'd brought the young man and his sister safely to the Friendly Arm, and that should have been the end of it for him, he'd done his bit for charity, so to speak, and the open road called to him. So, why was he still there, watching them? It certainly wasn't for the girl, surprisingly for him. Oh, she was attractive enough, if a bit young for his tastes, but he liked them older, with more experience, and he didn't like playing teacher in the bedroom arts. And while she could hold an interesting conversation, that wasn't enough for him to stick around, conversation could be had anywhere. No, it was the boy, man, Tal, who attracted his curiosity.

He seemed to be, on the surface at least, just an average young man, if a little naïve about the ways of the world. But average, naïve young men didn't attract the attention of powerful enemies right after entering manhood, especially when they'd lived such a sheltered existence prior to that. Yet that huge, armoured warrior had brought with him three ogres, a mage and a Kara-Turan swordswoman just for that one average young man. It was a curious situation. There was a story there, and Coran had never been able to resist a good story. And if he wanted to find out how that story ended, well he'd have to stick close.

'Innkeep, five more wines, please.' He held up a hand, just in case the halfling hadn't heard him properly over the din of the common room.

In short order there was a large wooden platter in front of him, laden with five clay cups. Well, it wouldn't do for him drink alone. The two half-elves eyed him warily as he arrived at the table and gestured for Tal and Imoen to give him some room.

'I've decided to keep you company for a while longer,' he said, handing a cup to everyone.

'And why is that?' The half-elven woman's tone was blunt.

'Let's just say, I hold an interest in their safety.' He met her suspicious look with his best, charming smile. It didn't work. 'Also, you might need an extra sword when you reach Nashkel.'

'Why would you think we are going to Nashkel?' It was the other half-elf this time.

'For what other reason would two Harper's be in the region?' He'd seen the pins they thought they'd hidden so well.

'So, you know who we are,' the woman stated. 'Why should we trust you, elf?'

'Coran saved our lives, Auntie Jaheira,' Imoen piped up, and Coran had to hide a smile at the woman's look of pure resignation. 'We owe him.'

'Child, child, child, everyone owes someone something in this world, and most of those debts are never paid.' She shifted her attention back to Coran, and that look of suspicion had deepened, if that was possible. 'Very well, we leave at dawn, be ready or be left behind, the choice is yours.'

'My dear lady,' he said, investing the words with all the panache he could muster. 'I was born ready for everything life and this world could throw at me.'

He picked up his cup and took a long drink, letting the wine dance over his tongue. His life, it seemed, had a habit of throwing interesting people and things into his path. Not that he was likely to complain, he preferred his life to remain interesting.

A/N

The eagle eyed among you might have noticed that I written Khalid without a stammer. There is a reason for this, and that reason is I just couldn't write it, not without it reading terribly.

Also an apology if anyone has found the POV shifts a bit clunky, it's been many years since I've written anything in third person, so it's like I'm having to learn it all over again.