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A new day had dawned, just like Astarion had said, and after a good scrub with some of our spare water and a decent breakfast, I felt far more like myself again. But we had a long road ahead of us, as usual. And I didn't want anything unsaid. Not after he had been so kind. So understanding.

While the others packed up, I went to him as he finished putting away his tent. "Hey…"

He turned to me, a wry smile falling into place as he looked me over. But I saw no flinch. No fear. That seemed like a good sign. He dipped his head. "Good morning! And once again, thank you for not killing me last night."

"Heh, thank yourself too."

"Mm, true. Are you all right now, or is today a 'I will wed you with a delicate veil of blood blooming over your white curls' kind of day?"

I winced. I could only imagine the mad things that had poured out of my mouth in the thick of it all. And he did a damn good impression. He winked though, he was only teasing. But jokes aside, the danger was real. I swallowed hard and looked down at my boots. To think that if I hadn't caught it, if I hadn't gone to him and woken him, I might have woken to bloodied boots instead. To no more smirks. No more side-eyed glances. No more snarky bastard to make me smile.

"Jokes aside… I'm still worried. What if it takes over again? I'm worried about you."

He snorted. "Well I'm also worried about me. But… Well, somehow I'm worried about you more."

I blinked.

He smiled softly. "You give me something to care for, and that's worth the peril."

And for that second, we were simply sharing a moment of sincerity. Of genuine feeling. And then I saw the spooked nature sneak into his expression. Too much. All too serious. I smiled and tapped his arm, winking before I walked away, letting him breathe and hopefully not overthink it to the ground.

As we continued through the strange murk of the Shadowlands, I noticed how quiet Shadowheart was being. Not that everyone was being particularly chatty or anything, but she was especially sombre. This was her lady's domain, right? Shar was strong in these parts. I had expected Shadowheart to be elated, or at least a little excited to see things. Not that I understood it. Shar, the more I heard of the beliefs and such the more it curdled in my gut alongside the aversion I felt to my own past. I didn't think I was connected to Shar, but it felt like maybe my past had something akin to her. Something also dark and likened with pain.

As we stopped to take note of the surrounding area, Gale doing some magicky stuff I won't even begin to try to understand, Shadowheart was staring out over the dilapidated town. Her jaw was tight. Her eyes almost shining. I went to her with a waterskin, and she took it, her eyes kept low whenever facing me. As much as she had a right to her own thoughts and own feelings, I couldn't shake the feeling she was struggling. And if we ended up in a fight – which we almost always did – we needed her focused.

"Penny for your thoughts?" I smiled and she handed back the water.

"I'm fine."

"Didn't say you weren't." I shrugged and looked out over the town. "But you are thoughtful. Just wondered what it was you were wrangling in your head… Other than the obvious."

"My thoughts are my own." She clenched her teeth and I stepped back, hands up.

"Sorry, quite right. Shouldn't pry." Clearly I'd pushed too much too soon. "I'll leave you to it–"

"Wait."

I did, I slowly turned and raised a brow. She was blushing. Looking to the side and hugging herself tightly. Alright. I stepped back in and perched on the nearby cluster of roots. She worried her bottom lip and closed her eyes. She had no idea how to say it, whatever it was.

"This place…" I started, assuming the quiet was only letting her work herself deeper into a hole. "It's so odd. I don't remember much of where I come from, of course, but this place does feel strange. Is it what Shar is supposed to feel like? I don't mean that to come across badly. Sorry if it did." I winced. "It just presents like that to me. Make sense?"

"It does… Shar is… Well she…" But the words kept stalling, kept tripping on her tongue.

I stayed quiet. On some level she clearly wished to talk. On another, she was clearly quite scared to do so. If I had learned anything from my own dalliance with darkness, it was that the person wrestling with it, wasn't always able to control it. And I liked to think I understood a concept of blame within that. I didn't know where my own dark urges came from, and their violence could not be overlooked, but the fact was, so far, I had rejected them. Refused. So while the urges were awful, I had not indulged. I had stopped myself. And so the blame, as far as I could possibly know in this moment, was not on my own shoulders. So right now, as much as this darkness surrounding us, and some of the things we had seen, made my skin crawl, I didn't know Shadowheart's full circumstance. She spoke of Shar like she had always been with her. Perhaps since childhood. If raised in such a situation, it was little wonder someone might struggle to find the light again. Even though, I saw it in her very clearly.

Shadowheart sighed. "I don't know how I'm meant to feel about all this. It's all I've ever known. And yet the people of this land, and the land itself…"

She didn't want to say it.

I nudged her lightly. "It's hard to not see the actual suffering within the uh… well intended suffering. As Shar puts it."

She nodded, lips tight.

We passed into another area where the trees were gnarled and the dark roots reached into the road as if seeking new victims. It was hard to imagine this place as anything other than the nightmare scape it currently was. One day, long ago, the sun had shone here, the people had grown crops, walked freely, worked with the land rather than under its thumb.

"How about…" I mused, not looking at her, not wishing her to feel under scrutiny. "You consider how you actually feel, instead of how you think you 'should' feel?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" She leaned back, defences high even now.

"Just that you said you weren't sure how you were 'meant' to feel. Like you already knew how you really feel, but it's at odds with what you've been taught, and so that's why you're questioning it."

She huffed. "You don't follow a doctrine, do you?"

"Nope." Not as far as I know… Then again, maybe this darkness in me was connected to a god. An angry one. A bloodied one. I tried to think of any that I knew of, and as usual, I seemed to know a fair few gods names. Why was my memory loss so directly focused on my own life? It was maddening.

Shadowheart continued. "Well then, I wouldn't expect you to understand a test of faith."

"Test of faith… Mm. Fair." Again I didn't look – I didn't want her to read judgement where there was only concern. A test of faith would have made sense. But that still suggested Shadowheart was at odds with Shar. That she needed testing. And so far, all I had known of Shadowheart was her to be dedicated. To her god. To her orders. To her path. So why test that if someone was already so wholly dedicated? Was it a test, or was Shadowheart simply feeling doubts and hoping it was a test?

"Though can I ask what you would be needing tested for? You've been faithful, haven't you? Dedicated? You're on this mission for her, serving her, so why throw in an extra–"

"It's not for me, or any of us to question Shar."

I closed my mouth and focused on the path ahead for a few strides. The words hung there. To not question, to only obey, sounded a lot like the things we had been objecting to with the Absolute. Calling it a cult. Trying to dismantle it before it caged too much of our world. And I think she knew that. She could hear those parallels like I could a bell ringing.

And my own head continued to consider if there was a god I knew of that might match my own madness…

The group continued to travel, and we came to a large building, claiming to be a hospital. We were about to pass by when Astarion stopped us, recognising the name on the sign; Thorm. Not Ketheric, but perhaps a relation? We looked back over our notes on the man, and it seemed there were rumours of his 'children'. Whatever that meant, because it wasn't used in a context that seemed to hint at actual paternal connection. I wasn't all that convinced about pursuing the line of query, but then we heard voices from within. Or rather, one voice, screaming. In agony. We all stilled. The house loomed and another scream ripped into the gloomy air. Someone was in there, and they needed our help.

Astarion had a strange look on his face as he listened to the notes fading to the darkness. Someone trapped in a lonely place, the outside world passing by unawares, until finally a cry managed to break free of the confines of those walls. Now to walk by or help. He swallowed hard and glanced my way, his brow pinching in indecision.

My hand briefly touched his. "It's alright to care."

"Mm, a… A new day, right?"

"Right."

Karlach was already climbing the stairs. "Well come on you lot, we're finding out what the fuck is going on in here!"

Shadowheart scrambled after her. "Wait, this could well be a Shar temple of some kind. It could be–"

"What?" Karlach turned, all fire as usual, but with genuine concern in her bright eyes. "Could be a ritual? Shar worship of some kind?"

Shadowheart leaned away. "And if it is? What? You think you know best so you–"

"I ain't part of your religion, Shadow, and I ain't claiming to be the judge of the world for what's good and right. But I know fear when I bloody well hear it. And that person screaming? I don't think they're getting what they signed up for, if we're assuming it was voluntary in the first place."

And as a group of souls plucked from their lives, slammed into pods, and infected with those wriggling parasitic bastards, none of us could claim to not know that feeling. Of wriggling in those restraints. Begging to be let go. Thinking of home (i think?) and pleading with the Illithids to stop. Only to have those unfeeling orange orbs stare back blankly. For those worms to writhe. For the pain to shoot through our minds and claim our beings. No. Shar worship or not, I don't think even Shadowheart could condone that. Not now. Not with her eyes at least partially opened.

And as the group agreed, and continued inside, my own head began to pulse in pain. Blood. Temples. Smoke from long dead fires, and the stink of stagnant, old wounds festering. I gripped my blade tighter and stayed steady. The others were preoccupied with the horrific surroundings, but I found myself fading with my steps. From mouldering wooden floorboards, to stained stone. I shivered. Stonework? No. Cavern, carved stone. Not slabs. Somewhere carved deep into the earth, to make it bleed.

I stumbled, only just dodging the flailing attack of some kind of nurse. She shrieked. She lunged. And I parried her at the last second, sending her slight body sprawling to the ground where the others took point and finished her off. She was blinded before the fight had began, her nurses uniform splattered in her own blood as well as victims. This place grew darker by the moment. And my head pounded in pain as I watched her limbs grow still. And that small part of me. Curdled. Shoved to the bottom of my confused gut. It grinned.

Paint it red for father!

I wavered and looked around, the giggling voice so clear I thought someone had stepped up behind me to whisper. But no. It was a memory. An echo. My group spread out, looking for any intel on the chamber ahead where the main screams seemed to have come from. But I couldn't move. For that second, it felt like if I did, I'd be stepping into strings.

Father watch how I make her cut! Watch how your spawn work!

Spawn. Spawn? My mind reeled, a great skull looming into place, red pits where the eyes should be glaring from a void. Bhaal. Bhaalspawn. Shit. Shit, was I Bhaalspawn?!

Astarion glanced in my direction, his brow arching when he saw I hadn't taken another step. I tried to respond. To wave it off. But the giggling voice scraped against my skull, and my lips wobbled with the want to scream.

He stepped in before anyone else saw, briefly touching my hand as I had done to his. "Little one?"

"I–"

A fresh scream ripped through the air. And it was like glass had shattered all around my ears, cascading down my shoulders and back. I jolted. The strings fell away, the giggling voice silenced. I was me again. No shadows. No skulls. Me. My choices. I blinked and shook my head, still under Astarion's scrutiny, but his expression calmed.

He nodded. "You're back."

"Yes. Sorry."

"Nothing to apologise for, but perhaps the time to focus is at hand?" He inclined his head to where the others had gathered by the door to the main chamber. I nodded. I followed.

And as Karlach looked back, axe in hand, a giddy grin on her face, she looked at me, eyes bright. "Ready to give it a shot, Soldier?"

I grinned back and sunk into a defensive stance. "Of course."

And so we entered.

…

It was beyond horrific.

Shar had her kingdom of blood, that was for sure.

A man was strapped to a table, and the surgeon, one of the Thorm's 'children' it turned out, loomed over him. Played with him. Brought scream after scream to those paling lips. And I think every single one of us was thinking the same thing. It could have been any one of us in that chair. But what I hadn't seen coming was Shadowheart stepping forward first. She held her hand back to us all, to wait. And I shared a concerned look with the others, but ultimately we did as asked. We chose to trust.

Good thing too.

She wove her words of worship, of her knowledge of Shar and all those dark places this belief system lingered, and she convinced the surgeon to put himself forward as a subject. To teach his nurses. To give them example. And as the women sliced into him, his own cries nothing but mere murmurs, their original victim lay dead on the ground. Gone. We hadn't been able to save him, but at least we had stopped another taking his place. And we backed away. Part of me wished to end the nurses as well, but something about the pitiable reaction to being let loose, the way they stumbled around, the way they had so clearly been mutilated by the Thorm surgeon already, I didn't see them as much of a threat anymore. And then I saw Shadowheart's face. Absolute agony. How easily could she have ended up in that part of worship, I wonder? Not her refinement and education, but mutilation and submission. Perhaps far easier than was pleasant to consider.

We went through the rest of the building, to check for any other victims, when Astarion stalled in the lobby and pointed to a closed door.

His eyes were hard, and his jaw set. "I think I hear another one of those 'nurses' through here. She's talking to someone. Though I can't hear another heartbeat…"

Gale approached the door. "Then let's hope she's just mad and mumbling to herself."

Karlach sighed. "Our hopes seem to be getting bleaker by the day, or is that just my imagination?"

And it wasn't. It was the truth of this dark place. As we stepped into the small space, to find an infirmary of sorts, we found two 'patients' dead on separate beds. The nurse stood between, trying to 'cure' them. Either she had accidentally killed them, and couldn't accept it. Or maybe she had found them like that, and simply didn't know. It was hard to tell. No fresh blood was to be found, so I doubted the two tieflings had died in that room, but that didn't mean she hadn't killed them elsewhere.

Shadowheart stilled beside the beds. Her eyes went wide and she shook her head, backing up a few strides, hand to her mouth. "Sh-Shit."

"What is it?" I asked, going to her. "Do you know them?"

"We all do." She gulped, closing her eyes and shaking her head again. "They were at the grove. Their little girl was almost hurt by that awful Khagha woman. Arabella? I think that was her name. But they're… They're definitely her parents."

It was dismal to know this had been their fate, especially after surviving so much else. But something else seemed to be plaguing Shadowheart in that moment. Something about it being Arabella's parents specifically maybe? I couldn't be sure. But something had her spooked. Something had shaken her to her core, and set a tremble into her frame, more so than anything else so far. As much as everyone's world had been tilted recently, it seemed like right now, in this dark land, it was Shadowheart's turn to be under that spotlight.

Astarion winced. "Oh gods…"

"What is it?" I asked, looking at the doorways, the windows, finding no threat. "More nurses?"

He shook his head and shivered. "Not a threat. Just… Nothing good. Damn this good hearing of mine sometimes. If one could only pretend that had been a trick of the wind."

"What was? What did you hear?"

"I think I heard little Arabella." He gestured to the back door of the building. "Somewhere out there… Looking for her parents."

Shadowheart shivered harder. "It'll destroy her. To know she was so close? We can't… She… It's too cruel."

"What's the alternative?" He tilted his head, genuinely asking, not sassing. "One does not care much for the children of this world, but is it not crueller not to inform the girl that her parents are gone?"

I swallowed hard. Yet again we had a horrible choice before us.

Shadowheart went towards the door. "We can tell her to make for our camp, to meet us by the Last Light Inn or something. Let her feel safe, know that she has people to depend on, then we tell her. Once she… Once the pain won't…"

Astarion raised a brow. "Once the pain won't what?"

"Destroy her." Shadowheart wrenched the door open and stepped out.

I looked to the others, and thankfully they all looked as undecided as myself. Pity. Worry. Concern. All and more forms rippled through the group. Shadowheart was wrestling with something none of us knew the full details on, and as much as her idea was flawed, it was at least intended to do good. And at least we could still look after Arabella.

We went out after her to help.

I stepped close to Astarion. "That was good of you."

"I can't control what these ears do or do not pick up."

"I don't think that's true. But beyond that, you can control what you do or do not bring to our attention. So… Thank you."

He smirked. "Depending on how much trouble this brings? Do not get used to it."

"Wouldn't dream of it…"

But now I had a thread of my own to follow, my own spotlight burning into the back of my neck. What were those echoes? Was it actually Bhaal teachings that kept pushing me towards a want of red? That voice. Was it the silhouette we saw before? Had I somehow been under that woman's thumb, worshipping Bhaal? I had no idea. But I would. One way or the other I would understand my past, because otherwise, I wasn't going to have a future.

Thanks for reading!