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AMNE POV

On one hand, to see him so openly asking for help was amazing. On the other, we now knew he was a big part of Cazador's plan. No, a huge part. A key part. And it turned my blood cold. I'd already been drained by that Shadow-Fell place, the influence of Shar weighing heavily on me for some reason, but as that news landed into place, it was like I'd been filled with lead. As soon as Astarion thanked me, my knees nearly buckled. I held onto him and he helped me back to the fire, calling over Shadowheart as he eased me onto a log.

I waved a hand. "It's fine. I just need some sleep and–"

"You'll be looked over, hear me?" He frowned, holding me steady as Shadowheart came over from cooking. Her eyes raked over me in concern. Astarion nodded. "I apologise, you have much to be thinking of I know, but she's been drained since the Shadow-fell. Can't say I know why, but the whole time we were there she was getting weaker."

She nodded and stepped into where he moved away, her eyes intent as she looked me over and then held her hand out with uncertainty in her eye. Could she even use her powers now? She tried anyway and the light glowed dully in her palm. She winced and retracted her hand a moment later, clasping it to her chest.

I lurched forward and put my hands on her shoulders. "I can just rest up, do not push yourself. You don't–"

"I-I'm so sorry." She gritted out, looking to me and Astarion. "I think I need to speak with Dame Aylin. But I can still diagnose, I think it's possibly some kind of magical infection. Like the plane shift has weakened your system. Rest up, and I'll brew a potion that should help."

With that answer, I no longer felt it necessary to clarify that it was probably the Bhaal within me at war with Shar. But if this potion worked, it was moot. She got to work, and Astarion stayed close by, his hands clasping and unclasping.

I smiled and nudged him. "I'm well tended here if you need to go hunting, probably not a good idea for you to feed on m–"

"As if I'd suggest that right now with you wobbling all over the place." He snapped, looking affronted.

But I knew his anger wasn't really aimed at me, I put my hand on his arm and felt the trembles that still wracked his body. He leaned away, but didn't pull back. His hackles were up. That made sense. Everything was so all over the place. Between this fatigue in me, the revelations from Aylin, the upcoming fight with Ketheric and now the Rite of Ascension.

I squeezed his arm gently. "I wasn't accusing. I was merely confirming that it's probably not a good idea, and you're free to go hunting. Right now, I'm well tended to, the others are on guard. And… Well it looks like you could do with a chance to clear your head."

He faltered under my gaze. "How is it you read me that clearly? Really, Little One, it's maddening sometimes."

"I'm just observant. Go on, really."

He hesitated for another moment before sighing. "I shall, to maintain my strength, to–"

"You're hungry, it needs no more justification."

A strange look came over his face, but it was gone before I could read it properly. He nodded, touched my hand briefly, then walked away into the darkness. The group knew what that meant by now, it didn't need to be announced. Karlach came back from patrol with Gale and settled by me at the fire, her warmth a welcome addition as my cold sensation grew, as if I was entering some kind of fever. My limbs ached as well. Whatever Shadowheart was brewing, I hoped it was potent. But still, I hated how much this had affected me. If Bhaal had that much hold over my body, that much influence, how was I meant to fight against that? Deny it? I wanted to. What little I knew of the doctrine, if not my own life, made me sick. If I was bound to that on such a level that another god could make me feel this ill, was I doomed to it regardless?

"Here, drink this." Shadowheart held out a cup. "Halsin helped, so it's got extra… I dunno, 'good' in it." She handed it over, eyes downcast.

Karlach took a swig from her own goblet. "You're not lacking that, y'hear? I dunno about this god stuff, never have, but I've seen what you do."

"Like what? Move through these shadows unbothered? Waver before that sick surgeon because my lady teaches us those things. I… I was so sure about it all before. But now… With what Aylin said. My head is all over the place. How do I make sense of it?"

I drained the potion. "As resident amnesiac, I think I have some insight on this."

"Such as? A convenient solid answer would be great."

"Wouldn't it just?" I winked and already could feel some strength coming back to me. "You make sense of it by ignoring anything that you 'should' do, and consider what you really feel. It's how I've been tackling the everyday for a while now. It doesn't really matter what came before, for me, what matters right now is what I do with this present. We might eventually learn more about where I bloody came from, but right now, I'm here in this fight with you guys."

Karlach raised her goblet. "A damn good outlook, I think."

Shadowheart watched us clink goblets and picked up her own, her hand shaking a little until she took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Then she gave a small smile and raised her goblet to us as well. "To the present. I'll figure it out as I go."

"Thatta girl." I grinned, doing my best to ignore my own hypocrisy considering my recent worries. I stood as the strength surged through me, only for a head-rush to send me right back onto my butt. Wooziness flooded my head. "Uh… Oh…"

Shadowheart winced. "I think we better get you to your tent."

"Wh-Wha… Thought this was meant to… make me better…" I wavered and she propped me up, helping me stand, making our way across to my tent.

"Small confession," she murmured, "I popped a sedative in as well. You're terrible at resting."

Karlach burst into laughter behind us, so much so I found myself grinning instead of grumbling.

Astarion wasn't the only one being read by people these days…

The next day, once I'd woken again and had some of that stew, was once more a blur. Preparations, plans, and travelling. Everyone was amassing on Moonrise for the fight of our lives, so far. And as we entered those looming walls, I felt oddly hopeful. Even with the blood flying, the screams ringing out and the magic whizzing past my ears, I felt confident in my ability, in my allies. The Harpers were there too, and of course we knew Dame Aylin wouldn't be far behind. But her real target was Thorm. We would simply help thin out the numbers beforehand.

On and on we scrapped. One level of the tower, to another, and another. The numbers crawling to Thorm's side was disheartening in some ways, but still not surprising. He had the power. The will of a god. And that dark charisma that drew people in. But today he would fall. And as we reached the roof and found the bastard waiting, I knew this wasn't going to be simple. Yes, he was mortal now, he no longer had Aylin's power keeping death at bay, but that didn't mean he was an easy kill. He had skill. Experience. And tenacity. But we had our own, and a better reason to be bloody fighting.

Of course it couldn't be as simple as one fight and done.

We had to follow him back into the depths of Moonrise, to some awful sinewy madness beneath. Aylin had been taken, struck by some huge tentacle, and possibly bound back to that bastard's whims. And even though the threat was great, we all had reason to be revolted by such a notion. Especially Astarion, with his newfound intel on his scars. He was livid, more so than I had ever seen him. Clearly his hunt had gone well, he moved with so much confidence, power and precision. This was a fight we had to win. One of many to come, no doubt. But it started here, the downfall of the Absolute.

Long story short, it was disgusting down there.

As horrific and wrong as the Nautiloid had felt with its pulsing doorways and organic aspects, beneath Moonrise was a living labyrinth. The floors were spongy, the walls glistening in blood and gore, the doors that same awful fleshy softness. It was a grim snapshot into what might lay ahead for Faerun if we failed. But disgust aside, we had work to do. And so we continued into that reddish darkness and kept our blades ready, our spells to hand. And as we went from room to room, fought spat after spat, I was becoming acutely aware of how much effort we were already putting in. How would we have any energy left at all for another fight against Ketheric?

Well, turns out the Nautiloid tech had the answer to that. I didn't recall them myself, my own memories of the Nautiloid understandably foggy, but Shadowheart stopped us and pointed to a tall machine looking thing. Kind of. Well, it was a machine, but it also had long blue tendril things kind of falling out of it. I immediately leaned back, and Astarion tugged me back another step after that. Which was adorable, I'll admit.

She rolled her eyes at all of us being wary and gestured to the thing. "It's restoring. I don't know how it works, but I stumbled into one before we went to the helm on the Nautiloid, when we first broke out. It made me feel like I'd had a proper rest, a full night's sleep. Seriously."

Karlach nodded towards it. "By all means, pretty, go ahead and step on in…"

Shadowheart snorted. "So much for you lot being brave."

Lae'zel squinted. "I think the cleric speaks true. It has the form of a restorative machine my own people use, though of course the Ghaik's version is utterly vile. Still, as it is her theory, I agree, the cleric should go first."

And so she did. Either to prove her own point, or perhaps feeling like she had something to make up for, Shadowheart stepped forward and embraced the bluish tendrils. A light pulsed over her and she sighed, eyes that bit brighter when she stepped back out, grinning.

"All better. I feel like my magic's restored as well." She spun on the spot.

Karlach stepped forward. "Good for a fight then?"

I nodded. "Probably vital, right now."

Astarion still didn't look keen, but he had already taken a few nasty hits, one of which was still leaking from his right arm, a nasty cut along the forearm. He didn't look happy about it, but after Shadowheart, Karlach, even Lae'zel and Gale had gone in and come out looking better, ready, and healed above all else, he stepped in. He winced at the light, but the blood stopped flowing. He blinked. It had worked.

He stepped out and flexed his arm, hand no longer shaking. "Alright, you may have been correct."

"May have?" She scoffed.

I stepped forward and let the blue light embrace me. Every fibre of my being seemed to light with that blue hue for a moment, and my own sigh ripped free as my aches were diminished and my pains soothed. A wound that had been weeping on my thigh sealed up, the bloodloss nullified. Strength returned to my bones. I could do this. We could all do this. And even better than that, we could win.

But these things are never easy.

We descended deeper, found more Nautiloids, more madness, and more threats. With so many ships around us, and so much threat, only made worse as we saw the Chosen Three stood scheming, I know we were all shaken to our cores. They were right there. The ones running this whole show. At least, running it on the mortal veil – if our research was to be believed, the three of them, the three Chosen of the Absolute, we actually working on behalf of the three death gods. Bhaal was the woman in red, her long blonde hair and pale eyes setting a deep shiver into my bones, my heartrate climbing instantly, and my mind reeling. But I stayed upright. I kept the panic inside and quiet. Bane was the god stood in the shadows behind Gortash. Karlach was so still as that man spoke, the way he smarmed through his words and swaggered around that dank space, it made her jaw tighter and her hands clench around her axe. How much she thirsted for his blood was hard to pinpoint, but quite easy to imagine. And finally, Myrkul, that was the god behind Ketheric.

Three Chosen, three Gods, and then the ground at our feet shuddered and an Elder brain of all things rose from the briney depths of a nearby pool. We'd all been outnumbered before – on the road we had already experienced that several times – but this was something else. To feel so small. To know all that lay at stake.

Gale put a hand to his chest, his expression thoughtful. But Lae'zel put her arm out and clasped his shoulder, shaking her head.

She spoke in a hushed whisper. "I know what it is you think you will achieve wizard, and in essence yes, you would kill these three heathens, and their Elder Brain pet, but you would also unleash any and all infected upon this land. A domino effect would take place, and at least part of the Illithid's own Grand Design would be unveiled. We must learn more, undo more of their wicked tapestry. Please. Stay your hand. You need not die this day, and if anything, it would likely doom us all."

For a moment, he didn't look convinced. But then again, it wasn't likely that Lae'zel would simply lie out of affection. He nodded and lowered his hand. It was a back up, an awful back up, but a last resort.

At least it seemed that friction had taken hold between the three Chosen.

Gortash and this eerie Orin seemed to be at odds with Ketheric, displeased with him and his efforts. But they still needed him. Should we be attacking all three? No. We barely felt ready to take on one of these Chosen, let alone all of them. So we waited until they and their Elder brain had left, and only once that Orin woman was out of sight, could I breathe properly again. I had to figure out who she was and what she meant. She was important. I knew that. But in terms of a personal thing as well, not just the bigger picture we were struggling against.

Now only Ketheric remained, stood there in his chamber, connected once more to Nightsong's gifts. We made a plan. With some scrolls of dimension door, some speed potions and quick thinking, we would overwhelm him. It would be hard. But we would make it through. Astarion volunteered for getting Nightsong free, after all, his talents could work from afar, and if he could be forgotten about by Ketheric and get a sneak attack in? All the better. Meanwhile, me, Karlach, Lae'zel and Gale would attack from the front. Keep the old bastard occupied. Shadowheart, she would stay on the outskirts if possible, offering support as required, and dealing with those little brain things scuttling about.

We knew our roles.

We had our plan.

Now we just had to take down a Chosen, and potentially… his god.

Thanks for reading!

elkediane: So glad you're enjoying! Plenty more to come!