Shattered

Shattered

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Viconia’s breath caught in her chest as Soris lifted the final tear towards its slot in the great door. For the few moments it took him to find the slot where it belonged time seemed to stand still. She was tempted to allow her mind to wander over the time they had together, tempted to let her mind wander over recent events and rush towards what might have been. She pushed it all away. Now was not the time.

Soris dropped the jewel into place and was transfixed by a brilliant beam of light. After it faded, it left a portion of its brilliance with the young sorcerer.

He looks amazing, powerful. He was meant for this. She let her breath back out and felt a familiar longing stir once again. She shoved her weakness aside and focused on the matters at hand.

A low rumble filled the Abyss, and even the very air around the party seemed to shake. Suddenly, with a great crash and wafts of sulfurous smoke, a man appeared, backed by five demons.

“Even now, you have the strength to follow me. You even passed the challenges I left for you. Most impressive.” The change in Irenicus’ demeanor was astounding. He was still arrogant and confident as ever, but his voice no longer dripped with madness, and his gaze was sharp and knowing.

“I don’t know who you’re calling friend.” Imoen spoke impatiently, and her knuckles turned white where they gripped her staff.

“Ahhh…sweet Imoen. I am pleased to see that you are recovering so well. I really meant you no ill will, but I needed to try the procedure. I had to be certain that it would work as intended…”

“Necessary! As intended. I was a child. You tortured me. Covered me with your filth. I will never be rid of it. I am scarred. Forever. Always.” Imoen’s voice grew to a hysterical pitch, and her gaze bordered on madness. Viconia knew that the young woman’s experiences affected her, but the change now was frightening. The Drow did not know what to think, so she waited for Soris to respond. His silence was painful. She wanted him to rise up, to take command, to demonstrate his strength before the wizard. Instead, it was Irenicus who spoke.

“Life cuts deep, little one. It leaves scars, and no one who truly lives escapes without them. They make you who you are.” For a brief moment, what might have been compassion sparked across the wizard’s features.

“And if I do not like what they make me?” Imoen’s voice had now dropped to a dangerously flat tone, and she stood poised, every muscle waiting for action.

“I do not expect you to understand, but what I did was necessary. And now, you are what you are.” As Irenicus spoke, a profound sadness came to rest in his eyes. “I am…sorry for the pain that I have caused you.”

“Sorry! Even if you were capable of being sorry, it wouldn’t make things right. Nothing will ever be right again. Not ever. All because of you.” Imoen was a hair’s breath from attacking the wizard.

Irenicus opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again when he could see that Keldorn was already doing so. “I am inclined to agree with my young friend. Sorry hardly addresses the problem. Besides, are you truly sorry, or are you merely sorry that you have finally been caught, sorry that it is finally all over?” Keldorn spoke as a man with years of experience in dealing with the last words of criminals. He brought a voice of reason to the purveying throng of emotion.

Irenicus turned so that his piercing blue eyes were focused on the paladin. “You are correct if you assume that I do not regret regaining what I lost. But you are wrong in assuming that I do not regret the damage I have done in doing so. The price was high, and for that I am sorry, but all things have a price. My price is living with the knowledge of what I have done, with the pain I have caused merely to exist. You do not know how I suffer.” Jon Irenicus’ voice rang with power and finality that forced the paladin into silence.

“But what of all the innocents, what of those you slaughtered after you got what you wanted. Why bother with the elves?” Jaheira spoke of recent events, but her heart was elsewhere. Irenicus did not miss that fact.

“Druid, your husband died by Bohdi’s hand, not mine. She was injured and hadn’t fed in days. I couldn’t have stopped her even had I desired to do so. Do not concern yourself over what was done with his body. He. Was. Dead. As for the elves, it was a matter of balance. My punishment was unjust. I was only restoring the balance. Retribution? Revenge? Call it what you will, but you know what it was, Druid.” He emphasized the last word, as if that were to make her understand him.

“Madman,” Jaheira spoke vehemently. “Two wrongs do not make a right. What you did wasn’t balance, but a perversion of it. You would take the lives of many just to avenge one. And Kahlid?! Damn you. You desecrated him. You cut him apart, left his body shattered on the cold stone, separated from both earth and sky, and most of all, separated from me. Damn you.” Any further words were choked off by the Druid’s tears.

Irenicus left the Druid to her tears. “And what about you, Drow. Surely you have some biting remark, some final blow to give me before I meet my demise.”

Viconia sifted through all of the words that floated through her mind, thought of the nights she had held Soris as he screamed and cried his way through another nightmare. She thought of the young mage she called ‘sister’, and the scars that adorned her body. She tried to put words to the emotions that coursed through her, but found that the words would not come. “I cannot say anything that has not already be said. There can be no redemption for one such as yourself. For all you have done, you deserve to die, and I regret the I will not be the one to carry out your sentence.”

To her surprise, the wizard grinned. “Be careful what you wish for Drow.”

“Enough! If you have what you want, then why are you here?” Soris spoke his first words with a level voice. He did not speak loudly, but the words carried unnatural impact. Even the wizard seemed impressed.

“I am here to offer you a chance. If it weren’t for you --in more ways than one-- I would not be here. I do regret the damage I have done, and there may yet be a way to save both of us.”

“His words ring false, abbil.” Viconia spoke. “You do not know his motives. Do not trust him. Do not forget what he has done to you.”

After a moment of silence, Soris twisted his fingers through his hair and spoke. “Viconia is right, but I will not ignore the possibility that you might be speaking the truth. Why should I believe you?”

“You have no reason to, but I do know what is happening to you, what will happen to you. I have experienced it. Look at me. What do you see?”

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Soris paled. “I see a broken man, a madman with a shattered soul. I see a man who is past his time, but who refuses to let go.”

You see yourself, but you will not become nothing. You will become me. The voice whispered. Soris shook his head as if warding off a bad dream.

“Yes, that’s right. You can feel the pieces falling away, but where I was left with nothing, you are left with your father, godchild.” Irenicus’ voice dropped. “Accept him. He is a part of you, after all.”

“HE IS NOT ME!” Soris screamed. “Give me back what is mine. I need it. I can’t go on like this. You don’t understand what he does. Please.”

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Viconia watched as Soris slumped to his knees before the wizard, and she felt her anger stir. This should have been his moment of triumph, of vengeance for all the wrong done to him. She felt her rage bubble to the surface. She would not allow the filth to live. She would not see her Soris be shattered one again. It had already happened too many times. Viconia deVir readied her warhammer as Jon Irenicus slowly reached a hand forward to touch the young sorcerer’s face.

“Now,” Irenicus said as his fingertips made contact. “Let it begin.”

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Soris felt himself join with the wizard, and slowly the other man’s thoughts began to become audible. Just before the sorcerer could make out the wizard’s words, another voice boomed, drowning out all else. Foolish mortals your petty schemes will not save you. Behold my power in my own sanctum.

With a terrifying scream, the demons began to fight. Soris heard his party let loose with battle cries, and the chamber plunged into chaos. Irenicus frantically tried to regain control of his demon escort, but while he was linked with Soris, he was powerless. Soris’ party fought for their lives. Soris stood, paralyzed as a voice that had long left him alone returned.

It doesn’t have to be this way, you know. They need not die here. You can save them. You know how. Let it out. Let me out.

Never. You have no power over me.

I don’t do I? The voice laughed. Perhaps not, but we shall see. Tell me son, have your feelings for the Drow changed?

Soris forced his thoughts away from Viconia as she struggled with one of the fiends. Its claws had already bitten across her face and ripped off a portion of her armor.

The voice went on. She really is quite lovely, isn’t she. I’ll enjoying slowly draining the life from her. Perhaps I’ll even keep you around to watch. Bhaal laughed again.

I…will…never… Soris tried to sound strong, but his heart began to race as the demon took another swipe at the Drow.

The voice mocked him. You will dance to my tune. Already you are cracked and broken. I need only stretch forth my hand and you will shatter. Observe.

The fiend suddenly gained new life. Viconia struggled to keep up. The demon struck her again and again. Red blood stained her white hair. She stumbled. Soris felt his control explode.

Go ahead. Save her.

Soris felt mindless rage bubble up inside him. He tried to keep it under control, but it surged around his defenses, taking control. He embraced the Slayer. New strength pulsed through his body. Pulling away from Irenicus, he lunged forward and seized the demon with both claws. He ripped it in half. The blood that sprayed his face dripped down into his mouth. It tasted good. He turned to his next victim. She was such a small, pitiful thing. Hardly worth the effort to kill her. He reached down, intending to snap her neck.

Do not do that, godchild. You will regret it. Power surged through the link between wizard and sorcerer, striving to push back the hateful essence just enough…

The Slayer turned to face the wizard.

With visible physical effort, Irenicus bent his will towards the Slayer. Soris could here his voice. You must master the power. Do not let it master you. It is nothing more than pain, than anguish. It is a part of you. Control yourself.

Soris could almost do it, almost batter aside the essence, but just as he was about to succeed, he was thrown aside. He plunged into darkness.

The Slayer laughed. A low voice sounded from the creature. “Fool! It is not the sorcerer you see now, but I, and I am going to enjoy this. The creature charged.

“That is where you are wrong.” Irenicus screamed the words over the din of battle. The Slayer did not retreat, or even seem to acknowledge them. Irenicus let out a deafening howl, and his body began to transform. Where one Slayer had stood, two now appeared, identical. They met in a fury of rending claws and hideous screams.

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Viconia wiped the blood from her eyes and stared. They are identical She felt sick. I have to choose, and I don’t know which one is him. Another, more cynical, part of her spoke. Does it really matter? She wondered if it did.

As she prepared her hammer, waiting for a chance to strike, the rest of the party finished the last of the demons. Viconia took a brief moment to observe her comrades.

Imoen was hysterical. Tears flowed down her face, and she screamed Soris’ name. Jaheira pulled her away from the duel between the Slayers, but Viconia doubted it would help. None of them would ever forget this, if they survived.

Minsc and Keldorn watched the struggle with looks of horrid fascination stretched across their faces. The Drow caught only a part of the ranger’s words as he spoke to his rodent. How can he speak to that rodent at a time like this? Soris deserves more.

“Boo, Minsc does not see which is mighty Soris.” The hamster’s response was lost to the chaos of the fight.

At least the addled one has his priorities strait, and hasn’t lost what little mind he has left. Viconia was relieved that Minsc had chosen to remain out of this fight.

As she watched, the intensity of the battle rose to a new level. One of the Slayers raked his claws across the other’s face. The wounded one bellowed with rage and knocked his aggressor down before eviscerating him. As lifeblood drained away, Viconia watched the Slayer forms begin to fade.

“NO!” She screamed. “Iblith! Bastard!” She saw the terror in the wizard’s eyes as she swung. His head shattered into tiny pieces.

Viconia threw Crom Fayer aside and collapsed to the ground pulling the sorcerer’s broken body into her arms. Jaheira was immediately by her side, and for once, Viconia did not mind the presence of the mongrel dog. The Drow looked the Druid in the eye, all vestiges of her pride shattered, and begged. “Bring him back. I don’t care what must be done. Just bring him back.”