Chapter 47: What Lies Within
Ember sat with her back against a tree on the outskirts of Gullykin. The halflings had proven to be excellent hosts; they'd been treated almost like family when they arrived the previous evening. Mayor Gandolar had taken them to dinner in his own home, where they'd been fed meat and tubers and creamy sauces and apple preserves. After that, they'd been shown to a halfling house - or burrow, as it was called - where there were eight freshly made beds, long enough for even Minsc. Alora told them that this was the guest burrow.
It was hard to figure out exactly how Alora related to her uncle Gandolar. He was not her uncle in the true sense of the word, but merely an extended relative; Alora's father's cousin's sister's something. Gandolar and Alora had tried to explain, but nobody, not even Edwin, had been able to keep track of the genealogical twists.
Jaheira approached. Seeing the older druid, Ember stood up from the ground and brushed dirt off her clothes.
"Good morning, child," Jaheira said.
"Good morning."
"Today I will teach you how to fight with that staff of yours. It is a good weapon, but it is wasted as a walking stick, and the way you carried it in the forest indicates a lack of familiarity with it. Have you ever tried fighting with a staff?"
Ember cringed inwardly. "Not really," she said slowly. "I practiced with Minsc a few times when we got that staff, but then we met Edwin, and I gave it to him instead."
"I can imagine the wizard used it as little as you do," Jaheira said. "I know you were a swordfighter, and scimitars would at least hold some familiarity for you. If you wish, I could teach you how to use those instead of the staff."
"No!" Ember said. "Er, I'd prefer just using a staff for now," she continued hurriedly.
Jaheira raised an eyebrow. "Child, what is wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing's wrong!"
"Why this reluctance? From what I have heard of the hero of Nashkel and Cloakwood, I'd have thought you would look forward to learning how to fight with druidic weaponry."
"I... I'd just rather learn the other stuff first," Ember said, without conviction.
"Child, I cannot help you if you do not tell me the truth," Jaheira said.
Ember stared at the ground, feeling her cheeks redden.
"I do not have time for such foolishness," Jaheira said. "Tell me the problem when you feel ready, and I will help you." The older druid turned and walked back into the village.
---
"You're being buffle headed," Imoen said when Ember finished. The two girls were sitting on their newly-made beds; scurrying halfling women had already replaced the sheets they'd slept in with fresh, crisp linens.
"But I don't think she'll understand!" Ember said plaintively.
"You'll never know till you try, Em," Imoen said, fixing her with a stern gaze. Ember felt like she was being scolded by an elderly tutor.
"What if she thinks there's something wrong with me?"
"She already does, remember? She just doesn't know what." Imoen reached out and gave Ember's hand a gentle squeeze. "I know you're worried, but I'm sure you'll be able to fight properly again. You just have to tell yourself that."
"I guess..."
"Remember why you did this. You wanted to fix yourself, right? That means fixing all of yourself, including the fighting, and not running away from the difficult bits."
Ember nodded quietly.
"Go talk with her," Imoen said. "You don't have to tell her about everything, you know. But you do have to tell her about that stuff."
"You're right," Ember said after a long pause. She stood up and hugged Imoen. "Thanks, Immy. I'll go and try to explain to her now."
"Shoo," Imoen said, grinning broadly and making shoving gestures.
---
Jaheira was walking through a meadow south of the village; every now and then, she bent down to pick a herb, which she placed in a flat wicker basket that stood nearby. Ember slowly walked up to her. "Um, Jaheira?" she said.
"Yes, child?" Jaheira said without turning around.
"About the fighting... I'm scared."
Jaheira turned to face her. "Why, child?"
"I... I liked it too much. That's why I had to stop. There's a part of me that likes killing people, cutting them up and watching them bleed, and I'm afraid of feeling that way again the next time I have to fight something," she said, staring at the ground.
"And a scimitar being similar to a sword makes it even more frightening?" Jaheira asked.
"I think so."
"Look me in the eyes, child," Jaheira said. Ember obeyed, and the half-elf studied her closely. "Do you like killing?" she asked.
"No!" Ember exclaimed. "I... there was a bandit camp. I slaughtered everyone in a tent. A score or so bandits, and I was laughing. It just felt easier and easier to kill, and then... it became difficult not to. That's why I got rid of my sword; it was enchanted and wanted to kill, so it only made things worse," she said miserably. "I didn't like it at all. I hated who I was becoming, and what I was doing. I kept having dreams about all the blood I couldn't wash off my hands. They've stopped now, though."
"Tell me more about that sword."
"It was made by Sharrans. Imoen said its first owner had been betrayed, and that rumour said the sword wanted vengeance. I didn't really believe it at first, but towards the end, I could feel it. I had Minsc destroy it."
"Did you ever kill an innocent person?"
"No. I never attacked anyone without a reason."
"That is good," Jaheira said quietly. "Child, you are not the first person who has felt bloodlust, and you will not be the last. Many surrender to it and become berserkers; you have fought it. I am proud of you. However, you have not beaten it. Right now, you fear to take up arms against anything. That will not do. "
"I know."
Jaheira picked up her herb basket. "Come with me," she said, and headed towards the village.
The two druids walked through the main cluster of burrows, not stopping until they stood in front of the winery. It was a round and clad with ivy, just like the burrows, but it was three times as large as any other building in the village. In addition to the production and storage of a myriad of wines, the building also functioned as an infirmary.
"Wait here," Jaheira said, and entered the winery. She returned a few minutes later, holding two plain wooden staves instead of the herb basket, and led Ember behind the building and a short way into the woods. They stopped in a circular meadow that was completely ringed by sturdy trees. The grass was short and the ground was flat, and a few targets - some bull's eyes, some humanoid dummies of varying size - at one end of the meadow.
"The halflings use this field for weapons practice," Jaheira said, and handed Ember one of the staves.
"First, you must hold the staff as a weapon, not as a walking aid," Jaheira said. Ember shifted her grip on the staff, holding it with both hands and with one end raised. Jaheira adjusted the position of Ember's hands. "Like this. It gives more control and better balance," she said, and grabbed the other staff in a similar fashion.
"Now what?" Ember asked pensively.
"We are not going to fight each other today. I am going to show you the basic ways to hit with a staff, and you are going to practice them, but you will only strike at air. Are you ready?"
"I guess so," Ember said. Jaheira raised her staff.
The rest of the day was spent practicing blows against non-existant foes. Jaheira showed Ember high strikes, low blows, and guarding techniques, all without anything to react against other than brief instructions as to what the move was generally supposed to strike or guard against. Without a proper target, it took a while for Ember to get into a fluid rhythm, but at the same time, the lack of a target let her focus on the techniques without worrying about getting urges to kill.
"Concentrate on your weapon and on how you move," Jaheira said when they stopped for a light meal; by the standards of the halfling village, it was barely a snack. "It is a tool, and I want you to understand how to use it."
"But tools are normally used with whatever they act upon," Ember pointed out.
"Not so afraid anymore, child?" Jaheira said with a small grin. "We must also find out how to quell your bloodlust, if you still have it, and it is easier if I can do that and not have to teach you how to handle the weapon at the same time."
Ember nodded. "I understand," she said, and reached for another piece of chicken.
---
By evening, Jaheira felt satisfied with Ember's progress. "Tomorrow, we will spar," she told the girl as they parted for the evening; she'd hesitated only a moment before agreeing. Jaheira watched the girl leave before heading for the burrow she shared with Khalid. He was already inside, cleaning his sword. His face lit up as she entered.
"Hello, my love," he said with a broad smile. "H-how was practice?"
Jaheira hugged him, and sighed. "It could have been worse. She knows bloodlust, and was scared of fighting again; she told me her sword had wanted vengeance," she told his shoulder.
"A curse?" Khalid asked.
"A light one, perhaps. They destroyed the weapon, so we cannot inspect it. We did not spar today, but I think she will be ready tomorrow. If she still feels killing urges, I will try to teach her to control them."
"She d-does not seem the berserker type. She will be just fine, I am sure."
"You are probably right. But I do not think she has told me everything," Jaheira said. "There is something troubling about her, but I don't know what."
"I know that you will give her as much h-help as she will accept," Khalid said, and kissed her ear.
"Thank you, my love," Jaheira said quietly as they gave each other a prolonged embrace.
---
Ember changed her mind about going to bed, and walked to her meditation spot at the edge of the woods. The birds were quiet at this hour, and there was no wind to rustle the leaves and ripening apples. She sat down with crossed legs on a patch of long, dry grass, and closed her eyes.
Slowly, she settled into her meditative state. The sensations were markedly different from when she meditated in the morning; now, all the plants were entering their resting phase, and the creatures that settled when she prayed in the morning were just waking up.
She was not going to pray now.
As she became aware of the intricate patterns of energy around her, she did not direct her attention to her goddess or to the abundancy of life around her. Instead, she looked inwards, at the small knot of life that was herself. She focused closer and closer, studying the energy that ran through her and made her what she was...
Something was wrong.
There was some kind of flaw in the energy that was her. It was small and faint, and all but obscured by a vibrant nimbus, but it was definitely there. And it pervaded her entire being.
Ember exited the meditative trance with a shuddering gasp. She sat still for several minutes, holding her aching head and rocking slightly back and forth, before she returned to the burrow for the night.