Chapter 43: Namara
"We must talk," Kivan told Coran. It was lunchtime, and they had all seated themselves in the Elfsong's main hall. Serving girls were bringing out baked apples and slabs of roast pork.
"I am sure it can wait till after we eat," Coran said, eyeing the food as well as the girls.
"No, it can't," Ember said.
"It can wait until you've spoken with me," a voice said behind Ember. She turned and looked into the angry face of a golden-haired woman. She was uncommonly beautiful, and the colours of her mage robes could be called nothing but cheerful, but there were deep shadows under her red-rimmed eyes.
"Brielbara!" Coran exclaimed.
"I heard you'd come back to the city, coward, but I didn't really believe it," the woman said. "What brought you back? Are you looking for another girl to seduce with your deceitful promises? Perhaps you'd care to know that you have a daughter."
"A daughter?" Coran stammered. "That's... that's, uh... wonderful."
"Surprised that your fling had its consequences?" Brielbara all but shouted. "My husband was none too pleased when my daughter turned out to be a half elf! Yago went into a fury; he nearly killed me, in fact. Do you remember how powerful he is? He has cursed our child to an early death. Little Namara won't live to see her first birthday. He's gloated that he possesses the cure, but of course he'd never let me have it. Since you're her father, Coran, you're going to find Yago and YOU ARE going to get the reverse of the spell from him!"
"Her name's Namara..? ...Curse, what curse? Slow down and let me..." Coran said, looking very bewildered.
"Namara doesn't have time to slow down," Brielbara said. "Yago has been staying at the Low Lantern since he left me. It's just another despicable whorehouse, disguised as something classier, and he's rented a room somewhere on the ship. Just find his spell book and bring it to me. I should be able to reverse the curse if I have the formula."
"All right, I'll do this for my... ummmm... daughter," Coran said. He turned to the others. "So friends, are you with me or not?"
"We will help you," Kivan grumbled, looking about as happy with Coran as Ember was.
"When you're done, come meet me at my home," Brielbara told Coran. "Hopefully, you haven't forgotten where that is."
"(I would not put it past him,)" Edwin muttered.
---
The Low Lantern was an old, decrepit ship, permanently moored at the docks and turned into what was best described as an inn of ill repute. The innkeeper had been reluctant to assist them, and had threatened to turn them off the boat for bringing Alora, who was easily mistaken for a child, with them. His demeanour changed completely as soon as they gave him a handful of gold; he welcomed Alora to his establishment, and was more than willing to direct them towards Yago's quarters on the bottom deck.
To get to Yago's quarters, they had to traverse three decks of gambling tables, dancing girls, drug dealers and who knew what else; many leers and scowls greeted them as they passed by the inn's usual clientele. On the third deck, which smelled rather strongly of herbs, two girls approached them. One wore an intricate outfit of grey leather that revealed an almost indecent amount of skin, and the other was dressed in equally revealing olive green robes. Both had a glazed look in their eyes.
"You come in here for some purpose, no?" the leather clad girl asked in a lazy tone. "I'll tell you the secret. There is no purpose, only entropy. Wondrous, sensous entropy. My soul sister and I know entropy better than most, perhaps we teach you some of its pleasures, no?" she purred.
"Entropic pleasure, you say? I'd like to know more. What's your name?" Coran asked, flashing the girls his broadest grin. Ember stared at him in disbelief.
"I am Desreta. She is Vay-ya," the girl said. "We are one with void. We know life has no meaning. Let us show you entropic pleasure... It will delight you with its icy touch."
"Not many agree to go to great void," Vay-ya said with a cold smile. "They afraid. But what there be to be afraid of? Life is hollow. Better to end it soon, than endure its pain."
Coran had involuntarily taken a step backwards at the girls' words. This saved his life; moments later, Desreta brought a sword down on the spot where he'd been standing. Minsc shoved people out of the way and wrenched Desreta's sword out of her hand. Kivan followed behind the giant and restrained Vay'ya, who was attempting to cast a spell.
"Let me guess; you do not know the word 'entropy'?" Edwin asked Coran sarcastically.
"There will be no entropic pleasures this day," Kivan growled in Vay-ya's ear. "Do you understand?" The girl struggled for a few moments longer, but seemed to realize that there was no way out, and nodded miserably.
We should kill them, Ember thought. She could just draw her sword and cut them down, so easily. Her hand reached for her sword.
"Naughty little girls should not try to lure foolish elves," Minsc admonished Desreta before releasing her, "or Minsc will have to teach them better manners with the flat of his sword!"
With a puzzled frown, Ember forced her hand to relax and let go of the sword hilt.
"Let's move on," Imoen said. "Let's get what we came for and leave." She was holding hands with Alora, and both looked very uncomfortable.
"Only one more deck," Coran said, visibly composing himself.
The bottommost deck held a well-stocked bar and a handful of bedrooms. Grunts and groans could be heard through the closed door of the closest of these.
"I hope that's not his room," Imoen said with disgust.
"Nay. Yago's is at the far end," Kivan said, leading the group onwards. The door to the farthest room was slightly ajar, and they could hear someone muttering inside. Ember slowly opened the door. A greyhaired man in a rumpled purple robe sat on the single bunk, staring blindly at a pile of tomes and scrolls. There was an empty wine bottle on the floor beside him, and the man himself was clearly drunk. The stench in the room was unbelievable.
"Life has been pretty lousy lately; how about you friend?" the drunken mage asked as he saw his visitors. "Let me tell you what happened to me! My bitch of a wife slept with some elvish mongrel, and even had his child. By the Nine Hells, does she ever have gall! Anyway, she's not laughing anymore; I cursed the child of that unholy union, so that it would die an early death. I hope the little brat drowns in its own vomit!" He reached for a corked wine bottle and struggled to open it.
"That's not nice at all!" Alora said loudly.
Yago turned to look at the halfling. His face erupted in anger. "How dare you bring a half elf child to mock me!" he shouted, reaching for a dagger. "What in the Nine Hells are the lot of you doing in my room?"
Ember drew her sword. "We're here for the cure to the curse you've placed on Brielbara's daughter," she said.
"And I'm not a child!" Alora added.
Yago laughed. "So the bitch hired some adventurers to get a cure for her precious daughter. She should have sent someone who was up to the task, instead of you rabble!"
Ember didn't wait for the mage to make a move. She sprang at him and pinned him to the bunk, her hand at his throat and the tip of her sword at his chest. Small ice crystals formed where it touched his tunic. "Where is the cure?" she snarled.
"T-there! It's there!" Yago shrieked, pointing at a large, dog eared tome. "I give up. I'll give you anything you want, just don't kill me!"
Imoen snatched up the tome, along with most of the loose spellscrolls, and showed it to Edwin. "He spoke the truth," Edwin said. "The makings of a powerful wilting curse are written here."
"Please, let me live," the mage whimpered.
Ember did not move. A quick push, and her blade would skewer this pathetic drunkard. It'd be so easy, and nobody would miss him. She could vividly imagine her sword cutting through him, blood freezing as it spurted forth. She felt her sword clamor for the kill, like a faint echo of the howling in her blood. Her entire body trembled with anticipation. Kill, something chanted inside her, over and over.
Enough!
With an effort, she wrenched her sword away from Yago's chest, and threw it towards a corner. It landed with a dull clank. "Leave town, Yago," she said as she loosened her grip on his throat. "Today."
"Yes! I'll leave! Anything for you! Thank you thank you thank you..." The mage curled up in a ball on his bed, crying his eyes out.
Ember stared at her beautiful sword, abandoned in the corner. For the first time, she saw Varscona for what it really was; a tool of vengeance, forever screaming for blood. How long had she heard its whispers without noticing? It was not alone, though. Not in me. It wasn't even the loudest whisper. Bile rose in her throat as revulsion filled her.
"Let us leave," Kivan said to Ember, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Ember nodded weakly. "Coran, take us to Brielbara's home," she said.
---
Brielbara's home was on the opposite end of town, and by the time they'd walked there, Ember had relaxed enough that she couldn't feel her heart thump wildly in her chest anymore. The mage greeted them in the doorway; ragged coughs and baby cries could be heard from within.
"Did you get it?" she asked nervously. "Do you have his spellbook?"
"Yes! We have it right her," Imoen said, displaying the tome.
Brielbara seized it eagerly and leafed through the worn pages. "Yes! This is it!" she cried, and ran into the house. From the doorway, Ember and her companions could hear mumbling over the baby's cries, followed by a flash of brilliant light from inside. The cries ceased, and a few minutes later, Brielbara returned, holding a swaddled baby in her arms. The child looked thinner than it should, and there were dark circles under its eyes, but it had a healthy colour and was sleeping peacefully. The tips of the baby's ears were slightly pointed, like delicate leaves.
"Thank you, thank you so very much," Brielbara said, her eyes shining with tears. "I owe you everything. If there is anything I can do for you, just name it."
"We were glad to help," Imoen said with a smile.
The mage's face hardened again as she turned towards Coran. "What about you, Coran?" she asked. "Are you planning on leaving again? Not even trying to be a father..."
Coran flushed red. "I'm sorry Briel, but I just don't have the time or inclination to care for your... I mean our child."
Brielbara scowled. "I expected as much. Or as little, I should say," she said.
"You don't have the time or inclination, but you do have the money," Ember said to Coran. "I suggest you lighten your purse for your daughter."
"Aye," Kivan said. "That would be wise of you."
Coran looked at all his companions in turn. With a sigh, he unhooked his coin purse from his belt and emptied most of it into a handkerchief, which he tied up and handed to the still scowling Brielbara.
"Maybe one day you'll grow a spine, elf!" Brielbara said, and shut the door.
Coran wiped his brow and exhaled deeply. "I'm glad that's over with," he said.
Ember exchanged a pointed glance with Kivan. The ranger nodded. "Our ways must also part," Kivan said.
"What are you talking about?" Coran asked.
"(Too stupid to understand,)" Edwin muttered.
"Leave," Ember said. "Go to your friends at the thieves' guild, or maybe Gorpel Hind will take you in."
"I see," Coran said slowly. He seemed to mull things over, then flashed them a grin again. "Ah well, even the best things pass away. Your company was enjoyable while it lasted. Perhaps we shall meet again," he said, and sauntered away, whistling.
"And good riddance to you," Edwin said with a satisfied smile.
"I trust that nobody disagrees?" Kivan asked, and was met with a chorus of no's.
"Little Ember? You dropped your sword," Minsc said. "Boo told me it was yours, so Minsc took care of it!" The large ranger proudly displayed the Sharran sword.
The thought of using the sword again was unbearable. "I don't want it back, Minsc," Ember said quietly.
"Why not?" Minsc asked. "How will you fight for justice without a sword?"
Ember paused, considering how to explain the sword's true nature to Minsc. "The sword is evil, Minsc," she said. "I can feel it scream for vengeance. Nobody should use it."
"Evil?!" Minsc cried, horrified. "Minsc will beat the evil out of it, although Boo tells me a blacksmith must help!"
"Em, are you all right?" Imoen asked worriedly.
"Not really," Ember said. "I've been thinking... Do you remember what Elminster said when we last met?"
Imoen frowned. "He could have meant that your parents placed the bounty on you, you know! It doesn't have to be worse than that!"
"Maybe I could have thought so, if not for the dreams," Ember said, "but we both know better. Besides, that's not what I've been thinking about. It's what he said as he left." She drew a deep breath. "He said I should only be true to myself if I was sure it was the self I wanted to be; that I shouldn't necessarily obey my nature if it's not what I really want. Immy, do you think he could be right?"
Imoen squeezed Ember's arm. "Maybe," she said.
Ember sighed. "Let's go to the inn. I feel weary."
---
Ember excused herself from dinner, claiming a headache, and went to her and Imoen's room. Instead of laying down, she wrote a brief note for Imoen. She hoped her friend wouldn't be too worried, but she knew Imoen would never let her do this alone. And she had to be alone, for as long as it'd take.
She finished the note and placed it on Imoen's pillow. Drawing a deep breath, she steeled herself and walked quietly down the stairs, out the front door of the Elfsong, and towards the town gate at Wyrm's Crossing.
