"I won't", she declares.
My gaze meets hers, and for a single, fleeting moment I get lost in her clear eyes. That light-blue depths capture me once again, just like they did countless times now.
Cazador, still on his knees, is silent. Even he doesn't dare to utter a word.
Does he know, somehow? Does he feels Bhaal's blood pulsing in her veins? Is he afraid? Or worse, enticed? No matter. It will be over now. Still – if she won't help me, how am I to complete the Ascension? Throw my old, weak me away?
No more words fill the air. She does not speak again.
Finally, I get free from her unyelding stare. Somehow, the scent of power still in the air is stronger. I can see my brothers and sisters now. Still bound to the Ascension's magic, they are but tools. Pure power ready to be riped, as I wish to do. For the first time in centuries, he's helpless. He's...
… smirking?
My hands clench my daggers. No. Not again. I won't go back to a world where Cazador looks down on me, where he can command me. Laugh at me. No more rats. No more obedience. No more. Surely she understands I need this. My precious little
Bhaal-babe. She... Why won't she help me?
"Please", is all I whisper.
I did say that same word to her, one time. I will say that again if that's what it takes to earn my freedom.
It takes but one second to hear her voice once again. "No. You know I can't, and you know why, my love. We talked about it."
All I do is stare at her blankly. Her gaze doesn't shift from mine. Adamant, she doesn't blink once.
She is refusing to offer me my freedom.
I do understand now. I finally do.
She doesn't care. She never did.
All she craved was to have me weak, powerless, submissed to her, the high and mighty Bhaalspawn. I am but her plaything.
She played me, and she is playing me even now.
She's just another Cazador.
And I'm just the same fool I've been in the last two-hundred years.
"Fine", I finally reply, sternly.
I move my gaze to my master. His lips are set in a thin line. Why? He must know he has won. Yet he doesn't speak, nor he's laughing at me. Why has he stopped?
My line of thoughts is broken by the sound of one, soft, tentative step. Then her voice, sweet and gentle. "Astarion, love..."
Maybe I was wrong. She's not another Cazador.
She's worse than that. Because even now she feigns love.
Blood roars in my mind, in my ears and soon enough is covering my hands. Cazador lies at my feet, both his eyes and his skin shining with red. He's gone, and so is my chance at freedom. I am condemned to be nothing, once again.
Once again, it's not my fault.
Slowly, as all that power evaporates in the air, a suffocating sense of emptiness grows stronger. It is all over me. Perhaps, it is me.
"I'm done with this place. And I'm done with you."
She open her eyes widely.
She blinks one, two times, staring at me in what appears to be disbelief. Perhaps she thought me enslaved enough. Surely, she didn't expect me to see through her deception. Her eyes are shiny, almost watery. Such a perfect facade.
I may be nothing, but I won't be her puppet anymore.
As I walk towards Dalyria and Petras, I think nothing of a thudding sound behind me.