The sky was still the deep indigo of pre-dawn, with only the faintest blush of light creeping over the mountain peaks. Ishta sat by the campfire, the warmth of the flames a welcome contrast to the cool mountain air. She cradled a cup of coffee between her hands, the steam rising and swirling lazily in the air. The camp was quiet, the rest of their group still asleep in the shelter of the gorge. In the distance, the jagged cliffs held the remnants of an ancient monastery, its crumbling spires blending into the rocky landscape like an old, forgotten guardian of the canyon.

As she took another sip of the bitter brew, the sound of rustling fabric caught her attention. Astarion stepped out of his tent, his pale skin almost glowing in the dim light. He paused as soon as he saw her, his eyes flicking to the fire and then back to his tent, uncertainty written in the tension of his movements. For a moment, he looked like he might slip back into the shadows and avoid the encounter altogether.

Ishta watched him for a moment, then shifted on the large rock she had claimed as her seat near the fire. With a small tilt of her head, she gestured to the empty space beside her, inviting him to sit. She noted the way his jaw clenched in indecision before his shoulders dropped slightly in a sigh of resignation. With stiff, deliberate steps, Astarion walked toward her and lowered himself onto the rock, though he kept his posture rigid, hands resting on his knees as if he was bracing himself for something.

"How's your neck?" Ishta's voice was soft, the question casual, but her eyes held a quiet curiosity.

Astarion didn't look at her, his eyes focused somewhere beyond the flames. "Healed."

She raised an eyebrow, watching him carefully. "Sleep well?"

"...Yes," came the automatic response, but there was no conviction behind it. His face remained impassive, and for all the world, he could have been carved from marble, perfect and still.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Ishta's lips, though she tried to suppress it. "Hungry?"

"No."

His tone was flat, the same rehearsed responses slipping out. Ishta's smile widened, barely contained now, and she decided to push just a little further.

"Lae'zel finally wore me down," she said, her voice light and matter-of-fact. "We made mad, passionate love to each other last night."

Astarion's face remained unchanged. "That's nice."

Ishta bit back a laugh, but his eyes widened suddenly as the words caught up to him. He whipped his head around to stare at her in disbelief. "Wait, what?"

The laugh she had been holding in broke free, soft and teasing. "I thought that might get your attention."

Astarion's face shifted, caught between confusion and a flicker of amusement. "Sorry," he said, his voice softer now. "I'm just a little... distracted this morning."

Ishta's amusement faded into something gentler, more understanding. She nodded, taking a sip from her coffee as she glanced out at the distant monastery. "Not really surprising," she said, her tone shifting to something more sincere. "Yesterday was... a lot to process for both of us, I think."

Astarion offered a strained smile, the weight of unspoken thoughts lingering between them. His shoulders, while still tense, seemed to relax just a fraction as he stared into the flickering flames.

Ishta let the quiet linger for a moment, allowing them both the space to breathe, before a thought occurred to her. She cleared her throat and added hastily, "Oh, and I was joking about the whole Lae'zel thing... just to be clear."

Astarion's lips curled into a sly smile, a hint of his old self returning. "Of course you were," he purred smugly.

Ishta narrowed her eyes at him, not entirely sure whether he was teasing her back or if he was genuinely unbothered by her joke. Either way, the faint tension between them had lessened, and now the campfire felt less like a place to brood and more like a place of quiet companionship.

Ishta drained the last of her coffee and stood, stretching her arms above her head, feeling the stiffness in her legs ease as she moved. Astarion's gaze drifted around the camp, and after a moment, his brow furrowed.

"Is it just me... or is this camp decidedly smaller than it was last night?"

"Mèirleach reported back to me earlier this morning," Ishta explained, her voice steady. "The trail's blocked further up the pass beyond the monastery. Apparently, a pair of highly territorial Tarrasque have decided to set up a nest right across the main trading route. It'll take weeks to bypass them."

Astarion's face twisted into a grimace. "Wonderful. I'm sure Halsin will be thrilled. Seems we'll be visiting the Underdark after all."

Ishta smiled ruefully, glancing back at him over her shoulder. "I'm not looking forward to that trip either, but Halsin, Wyll, and Shadowheart have already portalled back to the grove to investigate the Selunite ruins. The rest of us will accompany Lae'zel to the crèche."

She rolled her shoulders, the weight of the day ahead already pressing down on her. "Before we do that, though, I'm off to scout the area around the monastery to try and gather intel on just how many Githyanki are holed up there."

Astarion didn't respond immediately, his gaze drifting once again toward the distant ruins. He sat in contemplative silence as Ishta began to gather her things, the soft sounds of the campfire and the distant calls of birds in the canyon below filling the quiet between them.

When she glanced over her shoulder, she saw him still sitting there, eyes cast downward, shoulders slumped slightly as if the thought of being left behind was more than he could bear.

"You coming or what?" Ishta asked, a little more cheerfully than was necessary.

Astarion's head jerked up, startled, his eyes wide before they settled into something more familiar - a mischievous glint that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Slowly, a grin spread across his face.

"Darling, I thought you'd never ask," he drawled, the tease back in his voice.

Ishta raised an eyebrow, unimpressed but amused, before heading to her tent. She retrieved her bow and quiver, the leather straps fitting snugly over her shoulder. As she adjusted her gear, she could hear Astarion moving about, the sound of buckles fastening and the scrape of weapons being gathered. By the time she emerged from her tent, he was already waiting at the edge of the camp, his crossbows hung from his belt and a leather jerkin thrown on over his shirt. He looked more prepared, the sharpness back in his features.

Without a word, they set off together, the sound of their footsteps soft against the rocky path as they made their way up the gorge.Astarion's earlier unease seemed to melt away with each step, his body loosening as he fell into stride beside her. They moved in sync, their footfalls quiet against the gravel, the air filled only with the distant rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of a bird.

The trail eventually led them to an outcrop, where the land jutted out, offering a sweeping view of the monastery. The rock beneath them was cool and rough, the stone pressing uncomfortably against Ishta's ribs as they lay prone, peering down at the ruined structure below. It was even more impressive from their vantage point - though clearly ancient, with cracks running through the stone and vines wrapping around the pillars, it still retained a sense of majesty. Its domes and arches, weathered by wind and rain, stood defiant against time, the remnants of statues lining the terraces, their features worn smooth.

Time passed in silence, both of them watching the movements of the Githyanki patrols, their red-and-silver armor glinting faintly in the morning light. The sun had crept higher, but the shadow of the cliffs still offered enough cover for them to remain unnoticed.

Astarion had been relatively still for a while, but now Ishta could sense his restlessness. He fidgeted with the ties on his bracers, fingers working and reworking the same knots. Every few moments, his gaze flicked toward her, his mouth opening as if he was about to say something, only to close it again before any words came out. It was an unspoken dance of hesitation, one she'd come to recognize with him - the battle between wanting to open up and the instinct to stay guarded.

Finally, he took a deep breath, the sound soft but deliberate. "What you did for me last night," he began, his voice low and uncertain, as if each word had to be pulled from a place he didn't often visit.

Ishta turned her head to face him, watching as he carefully avoided her gaze, his eyes fixed on a patch of lichen clinging to the rock beneath them. His fingers picked at it absently, as if the act of pulling it free would somehow untangle his thoughts.

"It was... unexpected. I'm not used to asking for help and being met with... well, help," he continued, the words coming out slowly, halting. He let out a quiet, almost bitter chuckle, his lips twitching with a smile that never fully formed. "Perhaps I should have just trusted you from the beginning, and not been so focused on..." He swallowed hard, his eyes flicking toward her for the briefest of moments. "Buying your protection."

The words hung between them, raw and unpolished, as Astarion flicked another glance toward her before quickly looking away again, his fingers still plucking at the brittle moss.

Ishta's gaze softened as she watched him. "I can understand why you thought it was necessary," she said quietly. "You still don't really know me all that well, despite the time we've spent together. You couldn't be certain I meant what I said, when I told you I'd protect you." Her eyes flicked briefly to the horizon before resting back on him. "If all you've ever known were lies and empty promises, then how could you know I'd be any different?"

Astarion's head snapped up, his eyes wide with surprise. For once, he didn't hide the emotion on his face. He studied her for a moment, as if he hadn't expected her to understand, let alone put it into words so precisely. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Exactly," he murmured. "I needed to make sure, in the only way I knew how."

The tension in his shoulders had lessened, but his fingers still toyed with the lichen. He clearly still wasn't used to these kinds of conversations-these honest, vulnerable moments.

Ishta chuckled softly, the sound warm and free of judgment. "Which is why I had to convince you otherwise in the only way I knew how... an over-the-top selfless gesture that was completely reckless and will probably come back to bite me in the future."

Her grin was wide, teasing, and for the first time since they had laid down, Astarion mirrored it. The lines of worry around his eyes eased, his shoulders losing some of their rigidity.

"Yes, it was rather a tad dramatic, don't you think?" he smirked in mock condescension.

Ishta shrugged, a playful glint in her eye. "Like your plan was any better? I've heard plenty of stories about lovers betraying and killing each other. Even if we were together, how do you know I wouldn't just decide to hand you over to Cazador to save my own skin?"

Astarion tilted his head thoughtfully, his lips curling into that familiar, wicked smile. "Well... I had hoped the sex would be so good that you'd realise you just couldn't live without me."

Ishta snorted, louder than she intended, and quickly covered her mouth with her hand. She swatted at him playfully, her fingers catching the back of his head. "Behave!"

"Never," Astarion quipped, his grin wide and unabashed as he ducked.

Their banter lightened the air between them, easing the weight of the conversation into something more familiar, more comfortable. Ishta took a deep breath, letting herself relax into the moment, even if it was fleeting.

"You're welcome, by the way," she said, her voice teasing but kind.

Astarion glanced at her, his expression momentarily softening. He didn't say anything, but the faint smile that tugged at his lips and the slight tilt of his head in acknowledgment spoke volumes. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

As they continued watching the patrols in silence, the warmth of the rising sun began to filter through the cold mountain air, casting golden light over the ancient monastery below.

Astarion once again was the first to break the silence. "So, what did the wizard want with you last night after I got back? Another magic lesson?"

Ishta's face shifted, the lightness fading as her expression tightened ever so slightly. She looked away from him, focusing on the monastery again. "Not exactly. He needed to confess something to me."

Astarion's eyebrows shot up in mock intrigue. "Oh? Finally worked up the courage to admit his little crush on you, did he?"

Ishta's head whipped around, her eyes wide in disbelief. "He doesn't have a - does he?"

Astarion gave her a skeptical, almost pitying glance, his lips curving into a knowing smirk. "You honestly can't tell?"

She let out a long groan, dropping her head into her hands. "Shit..."

Astarion sniggered, thoroughly enjoying the revelation. "You really are quite popular, you know. Almost makes me jealous of all the attention you're stealing from me."

Ishta raised an eyebrow, her voice dripping with scepticism. "Uh huh..."

Astarion's grin remained wickedly amused. "I did say almost."

Shaking her head, Ishta took a moment to compose herself, then continued. "Anyway, back to your original question. Gale finally decided to reveal everything about his condition. Turns out he used to be the consort of the goddess of magic herself - Mystra."

Astarion scoffed immediately, rolling his eyes. "Oh, I'm sure he was..."

But when he saw the seriousness in Ishta's expression, his scoff faltered. His eyes widened slightly, incredulous. "Wait... You're being serious? Gale??"

Ishta nodded, her expression grave. "He was a magical prodigy in his youth, and she apparently took a personal interest in his development. But... he admitted to having ambitions far beyond his reach. Long story short, he tried to prove himself to Mystra and ended up accidentally absorbing an orb of Netherese magic into his chest."

Astarion winced visibly. "Nothing good ever accompanies the word 'Netherese.'"

Ishta grimaced. "You can say that again. The orb is what he's been feeding magical artifacts with. If he doesn't keep it satiated - or if he stays dead for more than three days - it will... erupt. And leave a crater the size of Waterdeep on the map of Faerûn."

Astarion's jaw dropped and his voice sharpened as he half-rose from the rock. "And why is he not a wizard-shaped blip on the horizon right now?!"

Ishta shot him a pointed look. "Same reason you're not a pile of ash back in the forest."

Astarion huffed, giving her an exaggerated side-eye. "Excuse me, but there's a slight difference between waking up with a little less blood in your body and not waking up at all."

Ishta shrugged, her tone deliberately casual. "We're already facing multiple threats to our lives. What's one more? I'll just add it to the pile along with Karlach's and your former masters hunting you, Shadowheart and Wyll's dubious benefactors, and Lae'zel's people ready to slaughter us at the drop of an artifact."

Astarion stared at her, his expression thoughtful before tilting his head. "Well... when you put it like that, we don't even need to worry about turning into Mindflayers. Something else is bound to get us first at this rate."

"Precisely."

Astarion lay back down beside her, his gaze once again on the Githyanki patrols below. After a moment, he shot her a sidelong glance and muttered, "I still think you ought to get that 'bleeding heart' of yours checked out by a physician. It's starting to become terminal."

Ishta let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. "We can't all be self-serving gits like you."

"It's called survival instinct, darling," Astarion replied smoothly. "Maybe you should try it sometime."

Ishta sighed, a playful exasperation in her expression.

Without missing a beat, Astarion added, his tone completely straight, "To think Gale's had that orb within him this whole time and never told us. Who'd keep a secret like that from his friends? You can't trust anyone these days."

Ishta turned her head slowly, her eyes narrowing. Astarion's mouth twitched slightly, though he kept his gaze firmly fixed on the monastery.

"You never know," he mused, "a walking bomb could come in handy someday. I'd say you made the right call."

Ishta's response came swiftly in the form of another swat to his head.

Astarion stood before a massive portrait, his arms crossed as he studied the stern features of the Githyanki woman staring down at them with cold authority. Her regal attire and silver greatsword added to the air of authority she exuded, the kind that demanded unwavering obedience.

Vlaakith, the Lich Queen of the Githyanki empire - Lae'zel had made sure they understood the gravity of the woman's importance, even though the expression on her painted face did little to inspire reverence in Astarion. If anything, it made him feel an insistent itch of defiance, the same impulse that had gotten him into trouble countless times before.

His mind wandered to how they had broken into the monastery through the roof, bypassing the magically sealed front doors, a feat that had taken both physical effort and some arcane maneuvering as they navigated the crumbling ruins and it's various sqatters.

The Githyanki inside the lower levels had barely tolerated their presence, their wary eyes constantly shifting toward Lae'zel, who seemed to command some begrudging respect. More than likely because she had four 'servants' in tow. Ishta had suggested they let Lae'zel take the lead while the rest play the part of her loyal followers - a performance Astarion wasn't especially thrilled about.

While Lae'zel had gone to locate the healer, the party had been left to linger in this intersection of chambers, waiting beneath the painted gaze of Vlaakith.

Astarion's attention shifted, taking in his companions. Karlach, ever the social butterfly, was busy chatting with a few young Githyanki warriors down one of the corridors. Gale had predictably gravitated towards the various artifacts strewn about, his fingers twitching with academic excitement as he examined relics of Gith culture.

Ishta was standing beside Astarion, her attention on the regal figure too, though he noticed the faint twitch at the corner of her mouth. He glanced sideways, just as she turned to glance at him.

Reaching out with his mind, he let the familiar thread of communication between them hum to life. "Are you having the same overwhelming urge I am?"

Without missing a beat, Ishta's reply came, cool and amused. "Depends... is it a mischievous urge to draw a mustache on that regal visage?"

Astarion smirked, feeling a bubble of childish glee rise in his chest. "Only a mustache? Come now, we can do better than that."

Ishta's hand disappeared into her belt pouch, and when it reemerged, a small red wax stick gleamed between her fingers. She offered it to him with a wink. "I'll keep watch."

Astarion's grin widened as she moved away, leaning against a nearby wall, her eyes now sharp and watchful, scanning the surrounding corridors. She looked as nonchalant as one could while conspiring in an act of blasphemy against an entire empire.

Astarion couldn't help but admire her subtlety. But now, he had work to do. He stepped closer to the portrait, the enormous eyes of Vlaakith boring down on him. His first instinct was to draw something obscene, something so vulgar it would have made even Karlach blush. But he decided against it - no, this required a certain elegance. He applied the wax with deft precision, drawing a curled mustache on her regal face, followed by a neatly pointed beard. Not quite satisfied, he added a pair of round spectacles perched on the bridge of her nose, and to finish the masterpiece, he drew two small, curving horns atop her head.

Stepping back, Astarion crossed his arms and admired his handiwork. The once-imposing figure of Vlaakith now looked ridiculous, the solemnity of the portrait entirely undone by a few lines of wax.

A soft snort of laughter broke the silence behind him. He turned to see Karlach, standing there with one hand covering her mouth, her eyes bright with amusement as she fought to contain her giggles. Ishta stood beside her, arms crossed, nodding in approval.

"Marked improvement," Ishta said, her voice brimming with quiet mirth. "You are a true artist, Astarion."

He gave a little theatrical bow, flourishing his hand as though accepting applause. "Why, thank you. I do pride myself on my... creative abilities."

Just as he straightened, Gale appeared beside them, his expression a mixture of horror and disbelief. "May I suggest a swift exit from the immediate vicinity?" he said, his voice a harsh whisper, eyes darting nervously to the portrait. "I do not want to be standing here when this little act of vandalism is discovered."

Astarion waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, please. It's not as if Vlaakith herself will pop out of the portrait and drag us into the Astral Plane... right?"

Gale stared at him, deadpan. "I'm not particularly keen to find out."

Ishta stifled a laugh, glancing down the hall. "Gale's right though. Let's not test our luck. We're not exactly swimming in Githyanki goodwill right now."

Astarion sighed dramatically but complied, stepping away from his masterpiece and falling into step with the group as they made their way down one of the winding corridors. He cast one last glance over his shoulder at the portrait, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction at the sight of Vlaakith's now-ridiculous face.

Gale, still fretting, muttered under his breath as they walked. "I swear, I will never understand why you both tempt fate so recklessly."

Astarion smirked. "Oh, my dear fellow. Life would be dreadfully dull if we didn't."

As they left the scene of the crime behind, Astarion couldn't help but feel a certain lightness in his chest. It had been a long time since he had felt so genuinely playful. And while he'd never admit it aloud, having Ishta by his side, indulging in his mischief, made the whole experience that much better.

The energy barrier before them crackled, while overhead, a vast sea of churning silver and indigo light, pulsed with a rhythm that seemed to echo Ishta's own heartbeat. She gazed up at the infinite sky of the Astral Plane, feeling its pull - a reminder of the many threads binding her to this chaotic place, to mysteries she had barely begun to understand. Letting her gaze fall to the barrier, she steeled herself for the conversation awaiting her beyond it's threshold.

Astarion's voice broke the silence, a wry edge coloring his words. "Okay... so just to recap here." He counted on his fingers, exaggeratedly. "We've only been in the crèche an hour and so far we've defaced a royal portrait, saved a young trainee from a fight to the death - quite possibly inspiring a future revolutionary - Karlach has somehow managed to become a mother..."

Karlach's jaw tightened, her arms instinctively folding around the Githyanki egg cradled carefully at her side, trussed up in a web of leather straps. "Hey! I couldn't just let them destroy this egg. There's a baby in it, just waiting to see the world. Being a late hatcher isn't a reason to kill it."

Lae'zel, her arms crossed and face a stern mask, shook her head. "The weak must be culled. This is the Githyanki way."

"Well, it's not my way," Karlach retorted, her tone stubborn but softened by the way her fingers stroked over the egg's delicate, leathery shell. Her eyes flicked to Lae'zel, daring her to argue.

An arch look settled over Lae'zel's face. "An unhatched Githyanki egg should be the burden of a varsh, not a warrior, whether ascended or otherwise."

Astarion's eyes gleamed with bemusement, a smirk lifting one corner of his mouth. "And what exactly are you planning to do if it hatches, Karlach?"

She shrugged, a bit sheepish, though her grip on the egg didn't loosen. "Dunno... didn't think that far ahead. Figured Lae'zel might want to raise the little tyke to be a fierce ghaik slayer."

Lae'zel glanced at the egg, the barest hint of intrigue breaking through her stony exterior. "It is a tempting notion... to mold a future warrior." Her voice softened, almost reverent. "Perhaps I might be the one to teach it of Vlaakith's Protocols."

"Oh, splendid idea," Astarion interjected with mock enthusiasm. "I see the zaith'isk really did a number on you. Speaking of which, let's continue with our summary, shall we?"

Gale sighed, rubbing his temples. "Do you have to?"

"Oh, absolutely." Astarion turned to him, his tone honeyed but barbed. "I want it clear in my head how exactly we ended up inside the artifact that protects us, playing assassin for the bitch - sorry, Lich - queen herself."

Ishta, who had been quietly bracing herself against the building tension, couldn't hold back a weary sigh. "We are here because I need time to think. Vlaakith wasn't about to accept 'no' for an answer, and the inquisitor looked ready to stick our heads on a pike if we so much as sneezed in the wrong direction."

Lae'zel's face hardened with fierce resolve. "We are here because it is my sacred duty to carry out my queen's demands."

Astarion's amusement gave way to a flash of anger. "Oh? Just like it was your sacred duty to have your brain scrambled by that insane doctor and her infernal machine?"

Lae'zel's hands clenched, the knuckles white. "The zaith'isk was tampered with. I am sure of this."

"Of course," Astarion sneered, his voice taking on an acidic edge. "Because a race that habitually culls the weak and useless couldn't possibly just decide to kill the infected rather than go to the trouble of actually curing them?"

The bickering grated against Ishta's nerves, the tension buzzing in the air like a swarm of hornets. She turned on them, her voice a sharp, clear command. "Both of you, shut up!"

The two fell silent, a tense stillness settling between them as they glared in opposite directions. A pulse of frustration throbbed in Ishta's temple, and she pressed a hand to it, drawing a steadying breath. Turning back to the barrier, she hesitated, the weight of the unknown pressing down on her shoulders.

Just as she prepared to cross the threshold, a voice as deep as a midnight tide echoed in her mind.

"So you came. In spite of all my warnings. Disappointing."

Ishta didn't bother to hide her irritation as she replied, her thoughts guarded. "I didn't have much of a choice. I had to see for myself if the Githyanki had a cure. And with Vlaakith and the inquisitor breathing down my neck, I needed breathing space. Now that I'm here, we can talk."

"Come, then," the voice murmured, drawing her like a whispered promise. "We will talk in private. Just the two of us."

Ishta turned back to her companions. "Seems I have an exclusive invitation. Wait out here for me." She met each of their gazes. "And Astarion, Lae'zel... try not to kill each other before I get back."

Lae'zel scoffed, crossing her arms tightly across her chest, though a spark of amusement flickered in her gaze. "I make no promises."

Astarion rolled his eyes, matching her glare with one of his own. "Likewise."

Karlach cracked a grin, winking at Ishta. "Don't worry, Ishta. If they cause any trouble, I'll knock their heads together."

Ishta gave her a grateful nod, a glimmer of warmth pushing back the unease tightening in her chest. Taking a deep breath, she turned, and with a final look at her companions, stepped through the threshold.

On the other side of the barrier, the air hung thick and unmoving, the vast emptiness of the Astral Plane unnerving. Ahead of her, the dream visitor stood with his back turned, his silhouette stark against the swirling, nebulous void. He did not turn as he spoke, his voice low and edged with a hint of something almost wounded.

"I may have made a mistake trusting you. I told you to stay away from the Githyanki. But you just couldn't help yourself, could you?"

Slowly, he turned to face her. His features were bathed in the soft silvery light, yet his eyes held a flint-like hardness, tempered with an unexpected sadness. He paused, letting the silence stretch between them. "And now you've come here to murder me."

Ishta crossed her arms, steady and unmoved by his accusation. "I'm not in the habit of taking orders from tyrant lich queens," she said coolly, her voice clear against the gentle hum of the plane. "I'm just here to talk. I have questions I need answers to."

The man nodded slowly, his face relaxing slightly. "Very well, then. What would you like to know?"

She took a step forward, her eyes steady on his. "Vlaakith told me you're an agent of the Illithid Grand Design, but I'm wary of trusting anything she says, especially considering her followers nearly murdered Lae'zel."

He chuckled, a sound that held no mirth. "You are right not to trust her. I told you I stole the artifact from someone - well, I stole it from Vlaakith. Since then, she has become desperate... afraid."

"Afraid?" Ishta raised an eyebrow, her skepticism clear. "What does a goddess have to fear?"

"Vlaakith fears nothing more than the loss of her empire." His tone turned grim, each word carrying the weight of ancient secrets. "The knowledge I have of her deception will bring that about. It is a secret so great that if her people ever found out, it would be the end of her rule, the end of her."

Ishta's eyes narrowed, her curiosity growing. "What secret?"

"She lies to her people. They believe she knows how Mother Gith defeated the Illithid Empire." He paused, his gaze sharpening with grim satisfaction. "But she does not. Should the Illithids ever rise to power again, she would be incapable of stopping them. If her people discovered her impotence, it would lead to mutiny, revolution. That power she only pretends to possess - the power to resist Illithid control - is the very thing I've been using to shield you and your companions."

The revelation settled over her, heavy and startling. Ishta let out a low whistle. "Damn... no wonder she wants you dead."

The man inclined his head, a wry smile forming. "Indeed. She has been trying her very best to kill me. And now... she sends you." He took a step forward, drawing his sword in a fluid motion that made Ishta tense, her body instinctively readying itself.

But then, in a gesture that surprised her, he knelt, holding the sword out on his palms, an offering. "I am on your side, I always have been. If you still do not believe this, then there is little else I can do or say to convince you."

A flicker of amusement crossed Ishta's face as she looked down at him, the faintest hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Oh, don't be so dramatic. I'm not going to kill you - in fact, the thought never even crossed my mind."

Relief softened his face as he looked up at her, a small, genuine smile emerging as he rose and sheathed his sword. "It seems I was right to put my faith in you after all. Thank you."

Ishta's grin widened, mischief lighting her eyes. "Vlaakith will be furious..."

A glint of humor sparked in his eyes. "To make no mention of your Githyanki companion."

"Let me worry about Lae'zel," Ishta replied, though the smile faded slightly as the man's expression grew serious.

"You should worry about all of your companions," he said, his tone grave. "Even now, Vlaakith is preparing to kill you. The crèche is ready to destroy you in her name the moment you return."

Ishta pressed a hand to her temple, feeling the tension coil tighter. "That's what I was afraid of."

The man hesitated, as if choosing his next words carefully. "Perhaps the impending fight would be easier if you-"

Ishta raised a warning hand, her tone laced with exasperation. "The next words out of your mouth better not be 'embrace your potential,' mate..."

A flicker of irritation crossed his usually calm face as he snapped his mouth shut. He sighed, his voice low and sharp. "You hide from your own gifts and refuse those the tadpole would grant you. Why forsake such advantages? Surely you would not let fear put the safety of those in your charge at risk?"

Ishta raised an eyebrow, her tone cool. "Nice try, but you'll have to do better than that if you want to manipulate me into letting that thing burrow deeper into my brain."

His mouth tightened, and he exhaled slowly. "I have no intention of manipulating you into anything."

She scoffed softly, crossing her arms. "Oh yes, you do. Luckily, our goals align enough that I don't really care." She looked away for a moment, gathering her thoughts, then sighed, a dark chuckle escaping her. "I have a woman who hid the fact she was a Sharran, a man who hid he was a vampire, and another who's quite literally a walking, talking bomb. Oh, and the ex god-of-the-dead is pretending to be some random Wight so he can presumably watch us flail around in the dark on this grand Illithid-themed quest."

She sank onto a nearby rock, letting out a weary sigh. "And then there's me. An aberrant vampire who's lying to them all - well, nearly all. So let's just say I know a secret-keeper when I see one these days."

The man tilted his head, studying her with a kind of quiet fascination. "You do not find the prospect that I am deceiving you... concerning?"

Ishta's smile was wry, almost resigned. "I'm not happy about it... but so long as it doesn't hurt me or my friends, I don't care what secrets you're still hiding from us."

She rose, stepping closer, her gaze hardening as it met his. "If you do anything to hurt them, though... all bets are off."

A flicker of something almost like respect softened his gaze. "I understand. And thank you for your candor... it has given me much to consider."

Ishta inclined her head, before turning toward the portal. She was nearly through when his voice reached her one last time, his tone softened by a faint hint of something almost pleading.

"If you will not use the tadpole's gifts... then at least do not be afraid to openly use your own. You may be surprised at the result."

Ishta glanced back at him, her gaze lingering, her lips parting as if to respond, but in the end, she only nodded. Without another word, she stepped back through the barriers threshold, letting the energy close around her as she returned to the waiting faces of her companions.

Astarion watched as Ishta emerged from the portal, her eyes shadowed with a flicker of unease. There was a tension about her he could see in the way her shoulders held firm, a reluctance in the slight pause of her stride as she rejoined the group.

Lae'zel wasted no time, stepping forward with her characteristic impatience. "Is it done? Is the enemy of my queen dead?"

"Nope. I'm afraid he's still alive and kicking." Ishta held up a hand before Lae'zel could press further. "And before you cut off my head in righteous anger, hear me out. The being Vlaakith wants us to kill is the same one preventing us from turning into Mindflayers. Considering the zaith'isk is busted, right now he's our only hope to survive long enough to find another cure. Secondly, it would seem that Vlaakith has been less than honest about the reason she wants our protector dead."

Lae'zel's frown deepened, skepticism burning in her narrowed gaze. "Vlaakith does not lie to her faithful." She took a step closer, her hand twitching near her blade. "Open your mind - show me."

Ishta hesitated, and Astarion felt the familiar, gentle probe of her thoughts reaching toward him, intertwining briefly before moving on to the others. He realized she was sharing the exchange she'd just had in the astral prism, unfolding the truths like threads that connected them all. The words of the dream visitor echoed in his mind, a quiet, insistent voice that left shivers down his spine. He focused instead on Lae'zel's face, watching the flicker of doubt pass over her features, a rare break in her stoic facade.

"Vlaakith tavki na'zin," Lae'zel murmured, her voice low with anger and frustration. "I see only - only madness. Vlaakith bears the full might of Tu'narath's arms, and the covenant of Mother Gith! We must go to the ch'r'ai. He will summon Vlaakith-she must know of this... this apostate."

With swift, decisive steps, she moved toward the exit portal that had materialized just beyond them. Ishta, her brows knitted in urgency, rushed forward, cutting off Lae'zel's path.

"The moment we step foot out of this astral prism, the whole crèche will be against us." Her tone was calm but laden with urgency. She paused, closing her eyes briefly, and Astarion noticed the way her breath hitched, as though the weight of her next words held her captive. "The five of us may not be enough to take on whatever is waiting for us on the other side of that portal. At least... not without something to give us the upper hand."

Karlach shifted uncomfortably, eyeing Ishta with a mixture of worry and wariness. "I don't like where this is going..."

Gale folded his arms, thoughtful. "If you're talking about the tadpoles... I have no objection to making use of them, but I'm not sure testing them out just before a life-or-death battle is the wisest course of action."

Astarion smirked, tossing an easy shrug in Gale's direction. "Don't be such a wet lettuce - I say it's the perfect time to test them out. If they give us an edge, then I'm all for it."

Ishta's eyes fixed on him, an intensity in her gaze that gave him pause. "I'm not talking about the tadpole."

Astarion felt his heart lurch, the sharp sting of realization settling in. Without thinking, he reached out to her mind, his thoughts a quick, wordless brush against hers. "Are you talking about-"

"Yes."

Astarion's jaw clenched, a knot of worry tightening his throat. "Oh shit... are you sure about this? I mean... wouldn't you rather ease them in gently?"

Ishta's mouth quirked in a wry smile, her gaze steady. "This is gentle. The alternative is they see me sprout fangs mid-battle and get distracted enough to make a mistake."

He swallowed, his gaze softening with a flicker of understanding. "Fair point. Well... good luck, I suppose. I'm... I'm right behind you, no matter what happens."

Warmth surged from her mind to his, a quiet gratitude that softened her gaze as she gave him a quick, fleeting smile. He looked away quickly, desperately hoping the faint heat his cheeks wasn't noticeable.

Steeling herself, Ishta stepped a few paces away from the group, exhaling as she faced them. Astarion could see the faint tremor in her breath, her hands subtly flexing and releasing as she prepared to speak.

"Before we face whatever's waiting for us, there's something you should all probably know about me." Her voice was steady, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of vulnerability. "There isn't enough time for questions now, but I need you to understand that I had my reasons for keeping this secret from you - and it wasn't because I didn't trust you."

Gale studied her, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I'm sure whatever it is can't be much worse than potentially blowing up and taking you all with me."

Ishta managed a faint smile. "Probably not..."

Karlach crossed her arms, a grin breaking through the tension. "You've put up with a lot of weirdness from us lot. I'd say we owe you a barrel-full of understanding and acceptance at this point."

Astarion felt the tension coil tighter within him as Ishta took a deep breath, bracing herself. She looked around, her gaze steadying on each of them before she continued.

"On a scale of one to ten... how concerned were you to find out Astarion was a Vampire?"

Karlach's face split into a grin. "Zero."

Astarion glanced her way, a small smile of gratitude tugging at his mouth before he looked to Lae'zel and Gale, curious to hear their reactions.

Lae'zel sniffed dismissively, her tone pragmatic. "It would have been easy to dispatch him if he proved a threat. Fortunately for him, he has proven himself a worthy ally."

He opened his mouth, ready to fire back with some retort, but stopped, unwilling to interrupt the gravity of Ishta's moment.

Gale rubbed his chin, casting Astarion an appraising look. "Initially - after seeing what he did to Shadowheart - I'd say an eight. Now that I've gotten to know him better... perhaps a three? Having a Vampire around is always going to be a slight cause for concern."

Astarion quirked an eyebrow. "Only slight? That's mildly insulting."

Ishta's voice was quiet, yet it carried a weight that commanded attention. "How about having two around?"

A thick silence fell, each of them frozen in place as her words sunk in. Astarion quickly cleared his throat, breaking the stunned quiet. "And before anyone starts pointing fingers, no, I did not have anything to do with it."

No one paid him any mind, too focused on Ishta, disbelief etched in their expressions.

Karlach's eyes were wide, eyebrows lifting in surprise. "Are you serious? You're a vamp too?"

Gale blinked, his usual composure slightly rattled. "I can honestly say I did not see that one coming."

Ishta let out a sigh, her shoulders relaxing slightly, as if finally saying it aloud lifted a burden. "Technically, I'm more of an experiment gone wrong... or right, depending on who you ask. I'm not a Vampire all the time - it's a transformation process that usually lies dormant."

Astarion watched the others' reactions closely, his gaze drifting back to Ishta, admiring the calm she managed to project despite the turmoil he knew she was feeling.

Gale's expression softened, his voice thoughtful. "So... it's only active under certain conditions?"

"Exactly." Ishta nodded, her gaze briefly meeting Astarion's before shifting back to the group. "And those conditions might come into play soon, depending on what we're up against."

Karlach shrugged. "Doesn't bother me, and I don't see why it would bother anyone else either." She gave Ishta a reassuring grin, her stance solid, as if the revelation was nothing more than a passing comment.

Gale nodded, his face thoughtful but calm. "Indeed. I feel confident enough in saying that this knowledge will not vastly affect the faith we have in you." He shot Astarion a wry glance. "Thank you for choosing to inform us in a less... dramatic way than Astarion did."

Astarion's protest came immediately, indignant and slightly defensive. "I would have told you eventually..." He tilted his head, giving Gale a pointed look. "I simply made the mistake of letting my curiosity get the best of me. Something I'm sure you can relate to."

Gale shifted, an awkward cough escaping him, but he pressed on, his voice gentle as he looked back at Ishta. "I know all too well the trepidation one can have over revealing something you fear may change how people perceive you." He paused, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. "But why now? Why choose to tell us at this moment?"

Lae'zel's voice cut in, her gaze piercing and calculating. "Your vampiric abilities give you superior strength in battle, do they not?"

Ishta turned to her, a wary yet resolute look in her eyes. "When I call upon them... yes." She paused, gathering her thoughts before continuing. "And that brings me to your question, Gale. I'm telling you here and now because I didn't want to risk transforming in the midst of a fight without you knowing what was happening. It could jeopardize us all."

"There will be no fight." Lae'zel's tone was final, her chin lifted with defiant certainty. "Not once I explain things to the ch'r'ai." Her eyes lingered on Ishta, a grudging respect tempered with her usual rigid beliefs. "As for your newly revealed nature, if you wield it to defend those you command, I see no reason to think any less of you for it. I save that for your refusal to obey my queen's commands."

The tension between Lae'zel and Ishta was palpable, the air thickening with a silent clash of wills. Astarion felt it prickling around him, ready to erupt, and decided a touch of levity might ease the strain. He clapped his hands lightly, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Well, now that the bat's out of the bag," he said with a gleam in his eye, "what say we pop through that portal and inform a bunch of heavily-armoured fanatics that their beloved goddess has been telling fibs, shall we?"

Lae'zel shot him an irritated glare, her mouth twisting in disdain. "Chk."

Ishta rolled her eyes at him, giving him a look that was equal parts amusement and exasperation. But after a moment, her expression softened, and she shook her head. With a steadying breath, she turned to the portal, its swirling depths beckoning with an ominous promise. She stepped up to the threshold, her shoulders squaring as she exhaled one last time.

"Well... here goes," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. Then, without looking back, she stepped through.

Yay! I'm back and I have a new 9 week old puppy to look after and train in between work and writing another BG3 fanfic, so while I will try my best to keep to a weekly update schedule, it might end up being every two weeks... we'll see how it goes.

The new fanfic will tell the tale of Ashara Windrose, an elven ranger (cos I never play as any other darn class in this bloomin' game) who comes across a certain Vampire Spawn as he is being transported in a cage to Baldur's Gate by a Gur hunter. Betrayed by his former companions, led by an evil Durge, Astarion is forced to accept the help of a reclusive and strange young elf and her giant Direwolf companion in order to survive. Along the way, he must learn to trust again as he and Ashara follow in the wake of misery and murder left behind by the Dark Urge.

The story will be told as a 'what if' narrative and follow it's own storyline while running parallel to the events of the game.

So lookout for "Wild Blood" coming soon.