Makings of a Monster

The following days were quiet ones. Tamoko arranged for new furniture and spent every spare moment embracing the quiet Sarevok, her heart aching. Sarevok returned her embraces, even gave her a few warm and fond looks, but most of the time he was preoccupied, his face masking his emotions. His eyes were like stones, cold and gleaming. Tamoko could see that he was thinking a lot, but he wasn't sharing his ideas with her or Winski. For the time being she didn't prod.

Winski spent most of his time reading, annoyed if talked to. He pushed all thoughts of Jelena away from his mind as he best could, succeeding at best mediocre. Of the things that had ever mattered to him, Sarevok remained. He would be the force that would spit in the eyes of the gods, he would be a name remembered. And what about Winski? Never again love, redemption, vulnerability. He hated the man he had been, the utter fool. He tormented himself over it, sometimes tempted to grab the bottle again. But that was the one good thing that had come out of his lapse into maudlin and unreason. He could do without alcohol. This way he could be a better aid to Sarevok. He could faintly tell that he was terribly angry, but with whom or what he did not know. He only wanted revenge. Reiltar was merely a part of it. His turn would come. Oh, it would.

Reiltar arrived from Cormyr. It looked just as it should be. The grim, refined look of sustained suffering, the subdued gait as he opened the door.
- "Greetings, son. This has been a... terrible shock for us all."
Sarevok shook his hand, his face a perfect study in non-emotion. His voice was deep and collected. He never wavered.
- "My condolences, father. Such a tragedy to lose mother and wife." No sarcasm even. Tamoko was impressed, as well as chilled.
Winski stood aside, for once less able to control and hide his emotions than Sarevok. He has already outgrown me in potential, he thought. The only purpose I can have is to help him. To use what knowledge and skill I have to aid him be all he can.
He curtly gave his condolences to Reiltar, not even pretending to be sincere. It had not been a secret for a long time that the men loathed each other.
For Tamoko it was easy. She really didn't appreciate hearing that Reiltar had referred to her as 'a nice piece of ass' after shortly meeting her, but she had gotten used to hiding her emotions. It was even easier with the westerners.

The funeral was arranged, and Sarevok had insisted on a pyre. He thought Jelena's spirit would be more free if the mangled, pitiful corpse was destroyed in fire. Reiltar attended with the Throne officials, while Sarevok, Tamoko and Winski stood away from them. It looked a bit weird, perhaps, but no one really cared. The flames started to die down, the pyre smolder. The heat on their faces was less intense. Then, finally, Winski broke down. He embraced Sarevok and cried, more hopelessly and profusely than he had in his whole life. He didn't know if Reiltar was watching. He didn't care. And anyway, his face was pressed against Sarevok's broad chest. This was so final, the person who had been the world to him reduced to ashes, never to grace him with her presence again.

Sarevok didn't cry, but he gritted his teeth so that it gave him a vicious headache. The hate was just as strong, even though he had gained the power to keep it hidden. There was the child he had been too, the child Jelena had loved from the second she saw him. The child only wanted mother back, nothing more. He wanted the child gone. He would wait. Tamoko, for her part, felt like a soldier standing a guard of honor. She didn't understand women so yielding and gentle as Jelena, but she understood how Jelena had kept Sarevok sane and in one part, given him something important that cruel fate had denied him. There was a different kind of honor in that. She stood erect and proud to signify that.

Later, in the secret room, Winski's sobs died down.
- "And that, I hope, was the last sentimental stupidity I'll ever be guilty of. I hope that I got all that foolishness out of my system," he said grimly. "The worst mistake I ever made was believing that there is a point in pursuing a... 'happy' life, an ordinary life. And more than that..." he blushed in shame, "that I should try to find a worthy purpose to my life, a morally good one," he snarled.
- "Mother was good," nodded Sarevok, "we can't deny it. And lot of good it did to her. All her life, misery. Then, murdered."
- "Casualties of war. That's what I used to say of people like her, and damn me for ever doubting that," answered Winski.
- "We will avenge her. That is all there is left to do for her," said Sarevok. Tamoko nodded to that. All the other things seemed strange to her. She wasn't used to thinking in terms of good and evil. There was honor, dishonor, loyalty and courage. But this she understood.

- "So, we will play along with Reiltar. You will be his eager right hand, in the military I suppose as I really don't see you as the suave diplomat merchant," said Winski, managing something resembling a grin. "Meanwhile, I will collect every bit of knowledge of both Bhaal and dark rituals in general, which will make you a more powerful and formidable warrior. We will take over as much of Iron Throne as possible, and do whatever we have to do. There must be something to be done with divine inheritance, which seems to be especially strong in you." Winski felt a glimpse of his old, sheltered self take over and felt much better. Not better as in with Jelena, but better as in less gutted, ripped and hurting.
Tamoko didn't say anything, but felt a flash of unease. The men wanted to play games with gods. But gods did usually not look kindly upon mortals trying to take advantage of them. And a Lord of Murder... how benevolent could that particular deity be? Still, she said nothing. If this was what Sarevok wanted, she would go along with it. She had sworn loyalty to him. And she loved him so that she would be but a shell of a person without him, anyway. Her destiny was by Sarevok's side. She'd have to see where it lead her. And gaining power at the merchant house... that was just business as usual in her homeland also.