Some Hearts Can't Be Broken

Age 6

“Mommy, look! I can do it!” The little girl was playing outside. A long stick was in her hand, and in front of her was a rather large dirt mound. The girl twirled and jabbed the stick at the dirt mound, crumbling the soil and creating a gaping hole through it. The girl’s mother smiled.

“Yes, Ama. You can do it,” her mother said from the doorway of their cottage. Ama smiled, displaying her missing front tooth. “Mommy, when I grow up, I want to be a warrior and fight big monsters.”

Her mother nodded, hiding a smile.

“And I’m going to ride a dragon. A red one, ‘cause red’s my favorite color,” Ama continued. “And I want to go to Amn and eat sushi.”

“Sushi?!” her mother exclaimed. “Why do you want to eat sushi?”

“‘Cause it looks like it tastes good.”

Her mother chuckled. Ama kept talking. “And after Amn, I’ll go to Tethyr and have a big party in . . . in . . .” Ama screwed up her face, trying to remember the name of the town she was thinking of.

“Saradush?” her mother suggested, and Ama nodded vigorously.

“Yeah. It’ll be fun. And it’s gonna be for people that aren’t like other
people. For special people.”

“What kind of special people?”

“I don’t know yet,” Ama said. “But special people.”

“Well,” her mother said. “How about one of the special people comes inside and bakes ginger cookies with me?”

Ama squealed in anticipation and ran into the cottage, her stick and dirt mound forgotten.

Age 13

“Mother! Nooo!” Ama sobbed. She cradled her mother’s body, watching the departing thieves who had robbed their house and killed her mother. She had come home from the village down the hill to find the once beautiful home in ruins and her mother . . .

With the sheer determination that comes from tragedy, Ama packed everything she owned (which wasn’t much, now) and took off, swearing she would avenge her mother’s death. Ama’s disfavor towards thieves was thus spawned.

Age 17

“I will not disappoint the Night Knives,” Ama said. Miraculously, she kept a straight face. Inside, bitter hatred was tearing her up, along with sorrow over the death of her best friend — her mother — four years before. Ama never let herself feel too much grief at one time, lest she become weak.

She allied with the Night Knives in hopes that one day, she could bring them down and in doing so, feel their blood on her hands, just as they had done to her mother.

Age 22

“This is your big assignment,” Sornil, the leader of the Night Knives, said. Ama nodded curtly and kept her face still. “You are to infiltrate the Shadow Thieves. A specific guild, in fact. The guildmaster’s name is Mae’Var. Beware, I have heard rumors that an outsider has been recruited by Renal Bloodscalp to do just the same. Tymora be with you.”

Later, Age 22

“Nooo! Not again! This cannot be the end!” Ama cried. She knelt over the prone form of Mae’Var, killed by the outsider, Umlya. “I will avenge you, lover, just as I will my mother. The Shadow Thieves will fall for you, and the Night Knives for my mother. And the Bhaalspawn Umlya will plead for mercy before I’m finished with her.”

Age 23, just days after her birthday

“Hello, Umlya,” a feminine voice came from the shadows. “Might I have a word?”

Umlya nodded suspiciously.

“I work with this man,” Ama said, handing an envelope to the assassin. “Check the signet if you wish, it’s perfectly real. Anyway, my employer would like to speak with you about expanding your guild. I assume you are the guildmistress?”

Umlya nodded again.

“The meeting will take place tonight, after dark, by the fountain in Waukeen’s promenade. If you’ve been there before, I’m sure you remember the idiot spouting about the evils of the elves. That’s the fountain. Be there.” With that, Ama slipped away, leaving Umlya feeling the tips of her elven ears.

That night, Ama sat on the edge of the fountain, playing with her dagger and waiting for Umlya. The elven assassin showed up promptly, with four other people in tow: a surly-looking dwarf, a drow, a Red Wizard, and a huge man that seemed to be holding a hamster. Ama smirked. Four misfits against Sornil, herself, and four other loyal guild-workers.

“Best keep your weapons down,” Ama advised Umlya’s group. “Lord Sornil gets edgy at the sight of steel.” The hamster-carrying man immediately sheathed his sword, and the drow put her flail away, though still left her hand near it. The dwarf simply growled, tightened his hold on his axe, and gave Ama a “try and take it away if you dare” look. Umlya took out a second dagger and held one in each hand. The wizard, who had taken out no weapons, uncrossed his arms so to be able to cast spells quickly.

When Sornil showed up, Ama shouted, “NOW! STRIKE NOW! AT ALL OF THEM!”

The leader of the guild, a mage, two fighter/thieves, and Ama herself attacked the group of four. Umlya vanished, presumably by means of a potion, and seconds later, the mage was on the ground. He was still alive, but twitching from the poison on her blades. The drow cast a spell, calling a magical hammer to her hand, which she used to pound one of the fighter/thieves into the ground. The last fighter/thief fell victim to the huge, two-handed sword of the even larger man. Sornil was quickly taken care of by the two elves and the wizard’s magic missiles.

Ama was not technically a thief, and she preferred a spear. The dwarf was being difficult, however, and furiously worked with his axe. Ama had deep gashes all over her body to prove it.

“NO! Mae’Var . . . mother!” Ama cried, and ran into the night. She never returned to the Night Knives, for they had failed her.

Age 24

Ama sat in one of the cells of the Saradush prison. It was the only place she could be alone, the only place, now that the siege had started. The vampires recognized her ambition and her evil spirit, and left her alone. There was no guard.

Of the Children, most were gathered in Saradush, unable to leave. That was how Ama wanted it. But the most powerful were still loose on Faerun.

Abazigal, the blue dragon, was unconcernedly snoozing in his lair near Amkethran. Sendai, the drow, was making grand plans in her own little den, also by Amkethran. Balthazar, the monk who led the monastery in Amkethran, was planning his ritualistic suicide. Imoen, currently traveling with Umlya. Sarevok, currently traveling with Umlya, but without his Bhaal essence. Yaga Shura, who was sieging Saradush at the moment. And lastly, Umlya, the elven assassin and the most powerful Bhaalspawn ever to walk Faerun.

“And I will have my revenge,”Ama said out loud. Her voice echoed through the jail. “My name will be the one my mother gave me. Amellysan. I will be Amellysan the Blackhearted, and I will have my revenge . . .”

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Notes: Written for Quiz 84: Masks Off!