Makings of a Monster

- "We'll travel through Cormyr on the trade routs... Jelena wants to settle someplace peaceful and I have no objection, but not too far away from cities. I want access to magical components and scrolls and books..." planned Winski. He sat beside the campfire with Sarevok and Tamoko, who were snuggling next to each other and oiling their equipment. The weather had been humid and it wouldn't do to let it rust. Some things are easier for a mage, smiled Winski to himself. He felt happy and relaxed. He was still very puzzled about what was a good thing to dedicate one's life to, but he was sure that Jelena's moral compass would be a help for him in finding the answer.

- "Western heartlands... lots of wilderness and opportunities for adventure there," answered Sarevok, eyes shining. "Shouldn't be too difficult to find a nice place in the outskirts of some of the cities. What do you think, Tamoko? Should we sign up somewhere or just adventure by ourselves or maybe with a few companions?"
Tamoko thought for a moment.
- "I have grown used to being ronin already. I think adventuring would be better, going where we want to go. If I one more time have to stand nightwatch and listen to some idiot drunk trying to chat me up I..."
- "Or going through some dumbass drill again and again because some meathead can't get it right..."
- "Or pretending to clean the mess when everybody damn well knows it is gleaming already and..."
Tamoko drew breath to complain some more about the general stupidity of military life, when Sarevok abruptly stood up, all his muscles tense. Tamoko immediately drew the katana, and Winski stood alert, listening around.

They didn't hear or see anything special in their surroundings, but for a moment Sarevok twitched in pain, his face for a moment like a death mask, only the golden eyes glowing reddish. The moment was gone, but Sarevok looked grim and even scared, nothing left of the good humor they had just shared.
- "I felt him," he said solemnly. "Bhaal. I felt him... gauge me. Something is very wrong."
Tamoko and Winski said nothing, just stared at him very worried.
- "Let's go home. I want to see that mother is all right," he continued.
They continued their journey sooner than they had planned, but neither of Sarevok's companions complained. They had no doubt something was indeed wrong, if Sarevok had felt the odd presence. It took still a whole day to ride back to Ordulin, and Sarevok didn't say a word. Winski and Tamoko chatted a little, but not about anything significant. Sarevok's anxiety and worry followed them like a dark cloud.

As they arrived, Sarevok unlocked the door. He knew. He didn't want to walk to the kitchen as he knew, but he knew also that it wouldn't disappear if he didn't go. Mother. Lying as a twisted, lifeless heap, in a pool of blood flown from her neck, face all red and bloated, an expression of horror frozen forever on her misshapen, swollen face. He slumped on his knees and held her, feeling the cold and stiffness of death. Time stopped. Suddenly Sarevok's mind was a crystal, made of countless, sharp facets. The priestesses trying to murder him, the cold of the streets, the fat man who had tried to lure him with free meal and then rape him, Reiltar, his voice, the pain and fear, and mother, only mother giving him gentleness and love... her presence through years being the glue that kept those facets together. And his mind shattered, the shards a mess shredding his soul apart, and he knew not whether it was grief, despair, or rage he felt.

The very pale Tamoko leaned on the wall, trying to take the situation in. Sarevok screamed in either anguish or rage and smashed the furniture, crying as he did. Winski had fallen sitting, leaning back and stared at Jelena in disbelief, his skin positively gray.
Winski felt a dry-voiced commentator in the back of his head. "In this situation the proper emotional reaction is crying. The woman you love has been brutally murdered. You should be crying."
He tried to. There were no tears. There was just the feeling as if someone had punched him in stomach, and he could not breathe, or lift his hands. As if Jelena wasn't another person at all, but a part of him, and when she was taken away, he might as well have lost an internal organ. It ached. He thought he would probably die.

Tamoko thought she should really go for the city guard. She had liked Jelena, and knew how much she meant to Sarevok, but she should be able to be calm and collected now. Either of the men could do nothing rational, and the sooner Jelena's remains were taken away the better. But what would they do in her absence?
- "I will go for the City Guard," she announced. Sarevok didn't hear her and Winski nodded, his eyes hollow.

After smashing most that there was left to smash, Sarevok stopped his crying for a moment.
- "I'll get him. Damn everything. He is dead."
- "Sarevok, you don't know where..." Winski was too drained to finish the sentence, and Sarevok was already going.
Left alone, Winski tried to press his face to Jelena's hair as he was so fond of doing, but the lovely scent was gone and there was only the smell of blood and death. He knew that in his laboratory there was a bottle of poison that was supposed to be rather painless. Technically it wouldn't be suicide. He didn't remember the man he had been before love had entered his life, and this man was nothing but an open wound radiating pain, ripped, gutted pathetic being.