Hi everyone,

A little musical recommendation for this chapter, which is also eponymous : The Weeping Dawn, from Borislav Slavov !

I wish you all a good reading.

The Emerald Grove was located inside old ruins, a few steps away from a cove surrounded by trees. It was a place dedicated to nature, quiet, peaceful... except for the angry crowd at its entrance. A dispute was raging between a group of tieflings and armed druids.

"Damn it," Nymuë complained. "What is it this time?"

"If I believe our luck so far, darling, I would say a catastrophe."

Astarion and Shadowheart were returning from their purchases. According to the priestess's sack, business had been fruitful.

"One could thought that a sacred grove would turn out to be less rich in tensions... " the dark elf sighed.

"Have you found Zorru?"

"The githyanki creche lies near the mountain pass, a few days from here. To get there, we have to go through the goblin camp."

"I really don't see why it's a problem," Lae'zel said. "If those creatures stand in our way, we will shed their blood."

"Four against a whole colony ?" the high elf cried. "Has your parasite degraded your thinking abilities?"

"We haven't seen the local healer yet," Nymuë recalled. "Hopefully, this fight won't be a possibility."

"If we can access the said healer..." the priestess scoffed.

The companions approached the furious assembly. Two tieflings refugees, a man and a woman, had cut through the crowd:

"Give my daughter back, right now !" the stranger screamed.

"She's a thief's Hell spawn", one of the druids lashed. "And you will wait for Kagha's judgment. Now, get back."

"Let me through, mragreshem, or I'll rip your damn throat out!"

When the woman stepped forward, a second druid – who had been silent until then – roared. Golden sparks enveloped his silhouette, his teeth lengthened, his skin covered in fur... until he became a gigantic bear. His fangs sent clear message to the fugitives: run away, or die.

"Oh," Astarion whispered, "I have to see that!"

The presence of the animal dissipated the refugees in a flash; only the man and woman who had spoken remained in the background, continuing to cast fierce glances in the Grove direction. The high elf let out a plaintive exclamation:

"And I, who hoped to witness a show…"

"It's not too late," Nymuë replied coldly. "If sensationalism amuses you, you can always negotiate our passage with the bear."

"And endanger that face? Don't think about it. Oh no, you seem to be the most appropriate choice."

"In any case, they will love you more than the tieflings." Shadowheart suggested.

After a murderous look at Astarion - who answered with a smirk – Nymuë approached the druids. The bear immediately raised a clawed paw :

"Back off," her colleague ordered. "We don't tolerate drows in here."

"Without our intervention, there would be no 'here' by now," Lae'zel retorted. "And tell your beast to be quiet."

"Not a step further. Force my hand, and I'll show you its claws!"

"One moment, Jeorna," the last druid interrupted.

She leaned over, letting him whisper something in her ear. Her eyebrows knitted in annoyance:

"Are you sure? Why on earth would she let one of them pass?"

Her gaze on Nymuë was filled with disgust. The young woman felt a wave of anger:

"Nothing you don't already know. Don't let yourself be intimidated," she recalled.

"Apparently, Kagha wants to see you," the druidess said. "You can pass. But a word of warning: at the slightest misstep…"

"You'll turn into a sow," Nymuë cut her off. "Yes, I have no doubt about that."

She passed without a second thought. She saw Shadowheart and Astarion squeeze back a grin, and the bursts of rage in her chest subsided.

The main part of the Grove consisted of a huge stone altar, surrounded by several statues. Each represented a different animal; one a bear, the other a deer... Druids were strategically placed in front of each effigy, melodically chanting an incantation. Swirls of green light radiated from a wooden relic at the center of the sacred circle. As she watched it, Nymuë felt as if she could hear the wind blowing in her ears, the rustling of leaves accompanied by the smell of grass and earth. How sad that this ceremony was meant to cut off this asylum from the outside world.

"A ritual like this must require a lot of energy, days of enchantments and prayers," Shadowheart observed. "Hopefully, we won't be locked in the middle of a druidic circle in the coming hours."

The dark elf nodded, distracted. Above the voices of the druids, another echoed, constrating with the serenity of the place. It was furious, chaotic, accompanied by an instrument whose strings were plucked without gentleness.

Nymuë headed towards the source of the noise, her companions at her heels. A little higher up, a tieffling was growling in frustration on a lute. She had a rather pleasant vocal, but her composition lacked harmony. She interrupted her verses, changed her words, made her instrument squeak on notes that were too low or too high for her arietta.

"Dance upon the stars tonight.

Smile and pain will fade away.

Words of mine will change… No... become... Damn it!"

"What are you singing?" Nymuë asked softly.

The woman gasped. She had brown hair with purple highlights, a shade that went nicely with her violet skin. She was wearing the typical troubadour dress, with bright colours and bells to wow the crowds. However, the artistic masterpiece didn't seem to be making much headway:

"This, a song?" she replied. "A banshee would do better. I can't... Nothing fits, you know?"

As far as she could remember, Nymuë had never composed her own songs. Oh, she'd had fun writing scores here and there, but it wasn't as if her appearances on stage gave her the opportunity to play anything. Elyon often said that was probably the saddest part of the whole thing. She crouched down in front of the tiefling:

"Your name?" she asked.

"Alfira," she smiled sadly. "But I doubt you'll find that name among the famous bards."

"Start by placing your fingers correctly, Alfira," she said. "You don't need to hold your handle so firmly, you won't be sweeping the floor with your lute. As for your left hand, you'll torture your wrist if you keep it at this angle."

"You're an artist, too?" the young woman asked. "Oh! We could make a duo! I'm sure that inspiration will come more easily with a fellow musician! "

"No !" Nymuë exclaimed. "I mean... It's your song. Let's focus instead on what you want to convey."

She took a long breath, aware of Alfira's surprised look, as well as the presence of her companions behind her. She wasn't ready. Not today, not now. She was already surprised that she'd managed to cast a few minor spells since her escape from the Nautiloïd. She was neither a sorceress nor a magician: her powers came from her art, and without practice, they would died.

In all the time she hadn't touched an instrument, they should have been buried six feet under.

"First things first," she continued more delicately. "What is your song about?"

"Lihala," the bard whispered. "My teacher. She loved dancing, but had two left feet. I remember of waking up one night on the road, and seeing her dancing beneath the stars... A huge smile on her face. Thinking of it now... my heart hurts. And my words just seem to crumble, like ash."

She suddenly interrupted herself, her eyes wide. Seizing her lute, she composed a simple chord:

"Words of mine will turn to ash,

When you call the last light down…

That's perfect! "

"Go on," the dark elf encouraged her. "What would you like to say to your teacher if she were there?"

"That... that it's OK. That all will be OK? And thank you… For everything!

Moon...

Moon reminds me of your grace.

All the love I can't repay.

Rest and know that I will pray,

Farewell my dear old friend."

Alfira's fingers slid over the lute of their own accord. Her lullaby slowly turned into sobs, until the tears took over from the humming.

"Sorry," she whispered.

Nymuë stood up and applauded. Surprisingly, she heard Shadowheart join her enthusiastically, while Astarion and Lae'zel allowed themselves an appreciative nod.

"It was beautiful," the dark elf murmured. "Don't be ashamed to shed a few tears."

"Thank you," Alfira smiled. "That's the first time I've performed since Lihala died... She was playing her lute and we... We didn't hear the gnolls coming. There was so much blood... I can still smell it."

Nymuë stiffened, assailed by images of the past. The buzz of the audience. Green eyes full of fear. Blood as a stage carpet.

"Your teacher would probably be very proud of you today," she said with difficulty.

"Ha! She'd yelled at me for that clumsy verse. And made me play until my fingers were raw... And that's exactly what I'm going to do. Finish The Weepind dawn, for her. I still have a long way to go but... Thank you. I needed that. Wait..."

Alfira stood up and rummaged among the boxes and cushions around her. She walked over to Nymuë, holding a violin. Its wood was of a colour the young woman had never seen before; grey, with almost silvery glints. A blue feather hung around the handle.

"I know a fellow bard when I see one," the tiefling said. "And I want you to accept this. Its owner was with us when... Let's just say he doesn't use it anymore. I trust you know how to play it?"

Nymuë took the instrument and admired it without a word. It was a fine piece of work, far more elegant than the one she had owned in the days of The Shining Star. Her fingers slid along the bow, making the strings squeak with a calculated gesture. Soon, however, the usual signs appeared. Her hand trembled, her breathing quickened. The object seemed to weigh heavier than a stone.

Alfira looked at her hopefully:

"I know how to play it," the dark elf confirmed. "Thank you very much for this gift. I will try to do it justice."

The bard smiled and helped Nymuë hang the violin behind her back. Nodding to the adventurers, she returned to her composition.

"That was... interesting", Astarion said. "Your reaction, I mean. I hope we will be treated to a recital?"

"No humming during morning training," Lae'zel warned.

"What morning training?" Shadowheart asked.

"The one that starts tomorrow."

And the warrior made her way to the druid quarters, followed by a chorus of general protests. The dark elf brushed the blue feather of her new instrument; perhaps this was the sign she had been waiting for, after all. She had left Baldur's Gate for this very reason: to start afresh, to reconnect with her music...

Her eyes fell on her arguing companions. She hastened to join them.

The druids lived inside ruins, in galleries beneath the very floor of the Grove. The interior was rather plain: a few stone tables, plants, shelves and wicker baskets containing food. This was the simplicity of nature lovers, who prefer to commune with the wild without being surrounded by frivolities.

Once again, the tranquility of the place was only apparent: the outbursts of an argument greeted the adventurers as soon as they passed through the main door.

"This is madness, Kagha. She's just a…"

"A what, Rath? A thief, a poison? A threat? I will imprison the devil. And I will cast out every strangers."

Kagha, the first druidess of the Grove, was a wood elf with bright red hair and green eyes. There was something ... poisonous about her, whether in her expression or in the tone of her voice. The man in front of her looked much older, with ebony skin and features marked by concern. Shadowheart discreetly pointed to a third individual. A child of around ten, huddled between the two adults. A huge viper was crawling around her, moving her head at the slightest movement. The animal was tense and alert: ready to strike at the first request.

"That explains the angry tieflings," Astarion said. "Is she the little thief?"

Nymuë clenched her fists; the whole situation cannot end well. Rath and Kagha continued:

"Raph, lock her up," the first druidess ordered. "She remains here until the rite is complete. A piece of advice, devil: keep still. Tee-la is restless."

The snake hissed furiously, revealing its venom-soaked fangs. The child clung to Rath: "Please! I'm sorry, sorry !"

"Come, Kagha. We took back the idol. If Halsin…"

"Halsin isn't here!" his superior spat. "Keep his name off your tongue, unless Tee-la pierce it."

Nymuë then had an idea. A tremor gripped her parasite as she opened a connection with her comrades. The dark elf concentrated on the spark of her magic. For a long time now, she had only used it for minor spells, and only maintained the abilities that were essential to her day-to-day life. Fortunately, the cantrip she had in mind was one of her favourite tricks...

A fifth voice joined the circle of adventurers, unaware of their presence at the heart of her mind. A few steps away from them, Kagha's mouth remained closed, yet they heard her voice:

"Halsin is gone," she whispered. "I am first druid now. He was a weak leader, but things will change: she promised me. I will take control and prove my authority."

Kagha's consciousness slipped from her dreams of grandeur to something resembling... fear. Whatever the new leader had planned, the other druids had no idea. Mentally, her thoughts went to a chest a few steps away, hidden in one of the rooms.

Nymuë stopped her spell. This was exactly what she was looking for. During her missions with Revan, she had learned that everyone had something to hide. It was often useful in negotiations to add a percentage of discretion to the secrets one held. "Knowledge is power," Revan used to say. This lesson had never failed her.

"Deceitful creature... ", Astarion whispered.

The dark elf remained expressionless:

"That should give us a leverage, if we can learn more."

"If you want to threaten that elf, there are simpler methods." Lae'zel said.

"Dear friend, the idea is to reveal your cards at the right time. Kagha is not our enemy yet. But if our healing is at stake between different conflicts, I like to have the winning hand."

"You know what?" Shadowheart said. "I think I'm starting to like you."

Nymuë smiled, before approaching the two druids in conversation:

"I fear that you will compromise the harmony of this Grove by keeping a young tiefling within your walls. It is better to let her join her family, so that she will be proof of your grace when the time comes for the refugees to leave."

Kagha and Rath turned to their visitors, surprised. The first druidess stared attentively at them:

"And to whom do I owe this advice?" she asked.

"To the saviours of your Grove," Astarion replied theatrically. "The same ones who single-handedly rid you of a horde of goblins."

"Compared to such creatures, a young tiefling won't be a problem," Shadowheart added. "Release her, then. We will make sure that she keeps to herself."

"Very well," the wood elf agreed. "It will be as you say. But if the child upsets us again, know that her faults will be yours. Ssifisv... Tee-la, to me."

The viper backed away slowly, almost in disappointment, and wrapped herself around her mistress's legs. The little tiefling only glanced briefly at her benefactors, before bounding off at full speed towards the exit.

"Thank you, Kagha," Rath sighed.

"Leave us," the first druidess commanded.

Her companion frowned. He duly took his leave though, while his superior examined Nymuë with relish:

"A deep elf in our Grove, on this very day. A sign. Or rather, a gift. Who better to understand a watchul brood mother than a beloved child of Lolth?"

"Let's not jump to conclusions," the young woman said coldly. "I'm afraid I have no relationship with the Spider Queen."

"Indeed? I wouldn't have believed it. From what I've been told, you showed great potential at the Gate. Now that I've taken back the idol of Silvanus, the rite is resumed. I will seal the Grove, free from harm, free of intruders."

"Is that why you want to see us?" Shadowheart said wryly.

"Indeed. You've proved your worth against the goblins. The metal of skilled swords for hire. I want you to provide your services to the tiefling leader. Offer to guide the outlanders out of the Grove. I'm sure they'll reward you well. They've to be gone before the final prayer. If they are not... The viper must strike."

"I'm afraid you've misunderstood," Astorion said softly. "Refugees are absolutely not our problem. We want to meet your healer."

"Nettie is busy in the lower rooms. You are allowed to consult her, but if you can't help with the tieflings, you are invited to leave as soon as possible. It seems that these intruders will soon know the sting of my venom. Do we understand each other?"

"Absolutely," Nymuë replied, honeyed. "You have entirely... proved your authority."

With a sarcastic nod, the dark elf put and end to the conversation. She entered the caves. There were two rooms facing them: Kagha's chest, which she had found by rummaging in her thoughts, was on the left. As for Nettie…

"Let me guess," Lae'zel scoffed, "Are we going to split up again ?"

"I think it's a great idea," Astarion agreed. "I'm leaving with our fantastic leader, while the rest of you will look for a cure."

Nymuë shuddered: why on earth did he want to accompany her? A magistrate - if he really was one – didn't seem particularly suited to a possible burglary. But Shadowheart and Lae'zel agreed, and the group seperated. Glancing behind her, the dark elf notice that no one was paying attention to their comings and goings. Most of the druids were outside, taking part in the ritual.

Many animals roamed the cave however, an extension of their master's gaze. Nymuë skimmed along the walls, moving among the shadows. To her surprise, she found that she couldn't hear Astarion's footsteps: the elf was much quieter than she was, placing his feet carefully and extinguishing the torches they passed. With a smile, he pointed to some canvas bags on top of a shelf. To the untrained eye, there was nothing suspicious about this arrangement. But for them who were specifically looking for a hiding place, it was relatively obvious. Nymuë climbed onto the piece of furniture and squinted: the chest was just behind it, perfectly accessible.

And perfectly locked.

"Damn it!" she whispered. "Of course ! Breaking the lock will alert all the druids around... "

"So little subtlety darling, it's appalling... Let's leave it to the professionals, shall we?"

"Are you going to… hook it?" Nymuë exclaimed.

"With pleasure," he replied with a charming smile.

They were interrupted by a noise not far off; someone approaching. Without hesitation, Nymuë made her way towards the entrance, looking as innocent as possible. The newcomer was a massive wolf. He saw the dark elf outside the room and growled.

"Hey handsome, you wouldn't happen to know where Nettie is, would you? All those caves look alike..."

The animal snorted with disdain. You'd think a creature accustomed to human presence would be friendlier... As he turned to leave, Nymuë felt a presence behind her:

"Your acting is very modest. That's surprising for a thief..."

The young woman blew out her nose. Astarion was standing beside her, victoriously brandishing a letter. Curiosity was stronger than annoyance, and the dark elf grabbed the paper to read its contents.

"Kagha,

Olodan has informed me of your progress. I am delighted that the Rite of Thorns has begun. Once condemned, the Emerald Grove will be the domain of the Shadow Druids and you will be its first druidess.

Archdruidess Aelis."

Nymuë's eyes widened. Oh-oh ! She knew that Kagha was involved in some dark business, but she certainly hadn't suspected that. The Shadow Druids were renowned for their… extreme views on life and death.

Where most druidic circles valued life in all its forms, the adepts of the shadows established a hierarchy. Some lives were worth preserving at the expense of others, which had to be sacrificed. What Kagha was planning was more than simply protecting the Grove; it was nothing less than a coup d'état.

The dark elf thoughtfully tucked the letter into her belongings. During the goblin attack, the mercenaries had mentioned the former leader of the Grove, a certain Halsin. If the Archdruid was still alive... And that their route would take them into the goblin camp... This could be an interesting piece of information to exploit. The young woman met her companion's scrutinizing gaze, and returned it:

"I am no thief," she said calmly.

"No, indeed," he conceded. "A thief would have known how to pick such a simple lock. A spy, perhaps? You artists are admitted almost everywhere..."

"Do you know what surprises me?" she asked. "It's that a respectful lawman such as yourself is an expert in robbery."

He stared at her, calculating the benefits of an honest answer.

"You're an elf just like me, my dear. We have time to get bored. It would be a shame not to be... open-minded about the different learning opportunities. But nevermind, let's do it. I'll pretend not to have noticed your predispositions, and you'll do the same for me? That way, we can avoid prying questions."

Nymuë thought for a moment. Her eyes gazed at Astarion, his sly smile, and measured manners. Not a magistrate, then. More like a cunning rogue, quick to devise stratagems. An interesting ally... as long as he didn't use his tricks against you. Even so, it was a talent they would need along the way. Stealing was something Nymuë tolerated. After all, she wasn't exactly in the pink of sanctity to be offended.

"So be it," she said. "As long as you don't get us into trouble. And I ask for 50% of your loot for the group's mutual funds."

"15.", he objected.

"40."

"35, and you break my heart in the process, darling."

Nymuë offered him her hand, which he shook hesitantly. Oh, Astarion was probably good, but she felt sorry all the same for the poor guy.

He was clearly no match for Revan.

END NOTES :

Regarding Kagha's letter at the end of the chapter, you've probably noticed that I've made a small change. The letter found in the grove is the one originally hidden in the swamps, in order to facilitate the storyline and the overall coherence.

Thank you for reading and see you soon.