Makings of a Monster

- "You should have seen Reiltar," said Sarevok to Tamoko, grinning widely. "After he heard that Peri and her band had flooded the Cloakwood mine I was sure he'd pop an artery. Good thing he didn't though... he is still needed for a while, and he will not get out that easily."
- "What do you intend now, then?" asked Tamoko. She was worried. Peri was no doubt after Sarevok's head, and by now she at least knew about Reiltar. Much too close, and she must have capacity if she had got that far.
- "Well, the bandits still prevent the iron from Amn from arriving Baldur's Gate, and the more there are rumors of war the sooner they won't even want to trade with it any more. Reiltar is worried because we only have a storage of uncontaminated iron, but that is enough for my purposes."

- "Again I must question your purposes, Sarevok," said Tamoko. She looked him in the eye, trying to convey how much she loved him in spite of critisizing his plans. "How can you even know for sure that it works? It is pure arrogance, like spitting the multiverse in face. Such a thing can't be without consequences. And Bhaal... just because he makes you feel one way or another, strong, for example... can you trust those feelings? What if you are just his puppet, much less a master of your own destiny than you have ever been?"
Sarevok's gleeful good humor was gone in an instant. His eyes flashed angrily and his mouth stiffened into a tight line.
- "I'm not!" he snapped. "You talk like this because you can't accept growth! You would make me to cling to the pathetic, weak being I was, turn my back to true power. You who even haven't heard it call, would question it!"
- "I have seen what it does to you, my love," answered Tamoko quietly.

- "There is no worth in what is mortal in me. That part represents weakness, lack of vision, being the eternal, passive victim! I spit on that laughable, helpless child! Let him die like the worthless insect he is, weep and wail and be crushed by the likes of my dear stepfather! I'll crush him, I want no part of him, and once I ascend I will be purified of him!" Sarevok's voice was rising, his eyes gleaming with other-worldly, terrible anger. He was clenching his fists and talking trough gritted teeth.
- "Sarevok, for gods' sake!" Now Tamoko was angry too. "You are so deep in self-hate that you don't see at all what is happening! What has happened to you has made you bitter and broken, and your soul wide open to the manipulations of a malevolent dead god! If you don't see value in what you, the true you, are, you are seriously ill! Seriously damaged! You should not make any plans and seek to influence the life of others if you are feeling like this! You should rest and think and live in peace, trying to find yourself again... and I could help you. I would be there with you."

Sarevok felt the pull of destructive rage and power.
WOULD YOU LET THIS MORTAL MANIPULATE YOU INTO BEING A HELPLESS, WEAK THING? FEEL THE POWER, FEEL THE PROMISE OF BLOOD.
And he felt. The dark, underground river flowed like the power in his veins, and there was nothing wrong with him at all, and he was so much stronger than all those petty, weak beings out to get him.
WOULD YOU RATHER DECLARE YOURSELF UNFIT TO ANYTHING BUT MEEKLY CONTEMPLATE YOURSELF? I DIDN'T THINK SO. SEEK THE ONE WHO APPRECIATES YOU.

- "I... see. In other words, you think I am... deficient. A weak man not fit to do anything but be nursed by you in a faraway monastery. I never figured you one drawn to weakness, Tamoko. And it seems your loyalty is only so much talk." Never had Sarevok talked so coldly to Tamoko. That his voice was so calm and collected chilled her even more.

It was late at night, but Sarevok left, banging the door closed more forcefully than necessary. Tamoko wanted to shout after him, but her voice stuck in her throat. The tears welled in her eyes and she cried to her pillow, feeling so lonely and cold without her beloved by her side. I would pray to you, my ancestors, she thought, but I doubt you can do much so far away from home. If you even hear me. Whom could I pray, I wonder, to give me my mortal, imperfect, proud, passionate Sarevok back?

Sarevok walked to the Iron Throne tower in cold fury and grim determination, resenting Tamoko, feeling such a bitterness that she wouldn't support his plans. At the upper level he knocked the door of Cythandria's chambers. After a few minutes she opened, wearing a pink silken robe, her golden hair cascading on her shoulders.
- "Sarevok! What a nice surprise! Come in, please," she said in a silky voice. She made way and sat, very elegantly, on a divan and motioned Sarevok to sit beside her. Sarevok did, his unease fading a bit as the woman acted as if she had been waiting for him.
- "I know it is late already... but you have been inviting me for a glass of wine and I thought I'd come and... visit," he explained.
- "Oh, it is quite all right! Late at night is the best time for a little wine, don't you think?" she purred. "And I wasn't asleep yet, only retiring."

Cythandria poured wine for them both.
- "So... you didn't bring your lady friend then?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
- "No." Sarevok's voice was glum and he didn't elaborate. Instead he grabbed the wineglass, noting to his displeasure that his hand was shaking, and gulped the wine down in one swallow, even though he usually drank very little.
Cythandria only sipped her wine. She didn't drink much either, as she wanted to subtly to stay in control. She could immediately see that Sarevok was upset with Tamoko, and was pleased. This would be a perfect time to approach him, but she'd have to play it carefully.

- "Is everything all right?" she asked in a voice she knew was perceived as compassionate, supportive, admiring. She nonchalantly filled Sarevok's glass again.
- "No... yes... I mean... you know, I have ambition!" he explained, his eyes gleaming.
- "Of course I do. That is why I admire you."
- "So do you think that I should take chances and embrash... embarrash... be everything I can?"
- "Certainly. All else would be such a waste of talent." Cythandria shifted a bit closer to Sarevok, holding his shoulder in a supportive and heart-to-heart manner.
Sarevok, who hadn't been drunk before, felt a giddy feeling of relief, pleasure and relaxation flow into him. He didn't perceive sharply and distinctly anymore. There was this pleasant, distorted haze, sort of whirlpool of numbed sensations.

A lot later he found himself naked on a bed, Cythandria's long limbs stretched along him. She was watching him, the beautiful eyes so appreciating, accepting. Sarevok felt somehow sticky, like his brain didn't function properly. It was like a sea was waving inside his head.
- "I could be a god, you know," he said, wanting to see her reaction.
- "A god?" A spark of definite interest.
- "Really a god. Let me exshplain..."
And then there was some darkness again, but he remembered the feeling that she had encouraged him, and that it pleased him greatly.

As the pale, merciless light of morning stabbed Sarevok's eyes, he woke up feeling a horrible nausea, sweating and head pounding.
- "Tamoko..." he murmured, groping for her, but feeling a wrong kind of shape. He opened his eyes, almost groaning at the pain, and saw Cythandria sleeping, a smug smile on her beautiful face. Sarevok sprang up, willing himself not to moan at the pain the abrupt motion had caused to him. He collected his clothes and dressed, slipping away so that the woman would not wake up. Cythandria was beautiful, and her chambers were stylish, and her facepaint very skillfully applied, but still Sarevok suddenly remembered the brothel he had visited when it was his fifteenth birthday. He had never made love to anyone but Tamoko, and felt like he had irrevocably ruined something beautiful. Now all his plans of godhood, all the talk of ambition seemed very unimportant. He felt very small and mortal, and wanted to sleep next to Tamoko, and undo the night before. He threw up in a side alley, leaning on the wall in his weakness.
- "Tamoko..." he whispered and wept. "Tamoko..."