12. A Boy And His Whinepigeon

12. A Boy And His Whinepigeon

13 FLAMERULE 1300
OUTSIDE THE GNOLL STRONGHOLD

On the third day after the night of their battle under the big top, the party which had vanquished the Chaos Circus, sans Anomen Delryn but joined by Dawn Raybringer and Buffy the Undead Hunter, finally journeyed within sight of the old gnoll stronghold – though whether gnolls or anyone had all now inhabited this old, abandoned fortress remained to be seen; as the stronghold had been stormed the year before by this same party, sans Valygar Corthala, Arra Flyte, Dawn, and Buffy, but joined by Imoen, Garrick (who at this exact moment was trekking to Rasheman with his new wife, to begin a new life which would fill many, many entertaining stanzas of songs in years to come; but which unfortunately does not enter into this particular tale), Khalid (may his soul rest in peace), and Branwen (may the halls of Valhalla thunder with sound of her hammer).

The night after staying at the temple of Lathander with the newly freed slaves, this current party had been occupied all the next day helping mayor Keldath Ormlyr, and some of his Lathanderian clergy, heal, feed, and organize them and arrange and assure their transportation to their various homelands. Not that the recently released elves were at all incompetent individuals, but they were at the moment penniless and stranded, and many did not even speak common or know where they were geographically, and some had been left crippled, diseased, or traumatized by their bondage.

This was by no means an inexpensive undertaking, and more than good intentions was required, but a deal had been worked out. Onyx had had no trouble convincing Keldath, who had previously commissioned the paladin on several adventures such as the slaying of the Cyrcist cleric Bassillus and the aforementioned wyvern hunt, that the leftovers of the circus (namely, the entire circus, sans a living crew) were technically the adventuring spoils of his party; but that he would happily donate them to the temple on the condition that they, or proceeds from their sale, be put first towards the aforementioned endeavor. Fortunately, this required no immediate auction, as the assets of the circus were by nature themselves suitable for the task. The crew of the circus had apparently been larger than the slave population, and thus the caravans which had quartered the crew, and the stores which had fed them, would be suitable for feeding and returning the former slaves. A good thing, as the food intended for the slaves was largely spoiled, and partially responsible for the unhealthy state of some of them, and the caravans which had quartered the slaves were filthy, and unfurnished except for cages. The horses of the caravan, in addition, had been in bad shape and required healing from the clerics before they were suitable for their various return journeys.

Over the course of the few days before they departed, leaders emerged among the various subraces of elves and they began to organize themselves. In particular, some among them turned out to be rangers, and proved knowledgeable in the local geography and were also able to soothe the horses into pulling the caravans they had understandably come to loathe, for the prospect of carrots rather than the fear of whips. Nonetheless, for the sharing of news with the elven clans if nothing else, Keldath sent along with each group various members of the government and clergy (as head of both in Beregost, he tended to blur the distinction, a fact which despite his good nature would in future years become a source of controversy, but that, though interesting and of gravity, is another tale) to travel with them to their various locations (or as far as someone who could not breath underwater, fly up unscaleable mountains, or dared not jump through interplanar portals, could go) and return.

As for the rest of the circus’s assets, what could be sold off to the town before the slaves left was sold In fact, local smithy Conlan Thunderhammer would end up more overstocked with weapons and armor and such than he ever had been before; it was said the illiquidity of the sheer volume of the circus’s equipment caused prices to plummet. Conlan, a good businessman, had anticipated this and demanded low prices from the church for such a large volume, and rightfully so. But it is said that he ended up making quite a profit when tales of the party’s adventure spread over the next few months and spawning a rash of eager new adventuring groups, driving the prices back up and clearing the stock. The proceeds from these sales, and the assets that couldn’t be sold in time (mostly fine Calimshani pillows and blankets, and wine and other drinks) were divided among the captive elves. After all, Onyx had suggested to Keldath, who more deserved the circus’s final profits than those who had been forced to work for it wagelessly until now? The pillows and blankets proved to provide a very comfortable return trip for the elves, and the beer, wine, and liquor, it is said, was largely consumed by them on the return trips as they reveled in their new freedom. In fact, jesters would later joke to crowed taverns during their stand-up routines that during these days a blind and deaf ranger could have tracked their paths from Beregost to exotic locations just by following the stench of elven puke.

But this tale has gotten ahead of itself, for most of this had not yet happened. It was only their second day since leaving Beregost, and the party had come to a bridge, one which had been crossed the year before, across which the gnoll stronghold stood surrounded by a large natural moat, a river that flowed down from the mountains the stronghold backed up against and then flowed around in front of the stronghold and then out to the sea.

“Hey Boo and Jaheira and Onyx, do you remember the nasty ogres that said we were crossing their bridge?" Minsc declared as memories flooded into his damaged brain.

"Definitely, Minsc," Onyx chuckled at the memory. "I always remembered that incident, because it was the first time I fought a monster to cross a bridge - just like in the stories - except it was two ogres! In the stories, it's always trolls guarding the bridge - you know, under the bridge, 'who's that crossin 'me bridge?' while the heroic goat walks above it to where the grass is supposedly greener on the other side..."

Inexplicably, after spouting this idiom the cavalier found his eyes flick up to Jaheira. He noticed the druid was looking down at her hands. He realized what she was thinking about - the old gauntlets of dexterity they had found on one of the dead ogres. A sad look came across Jaheira's face, and Onyx remembered they had lost them when Irenicus had captured them. A tear rolled down Jaheira's cheek. That wasn't all Irenicus had taken from her, was it though?

Then Jaheira wiggled her fingers deftly. Onyx remembered how she'd been more coordinated after the ordeal, almost as if the mad wizard had simply fused the gauntlets’ power into her hands. Maybe it was just from wearing them so long? No, they didn't work like that. Somehow, what had been lost in the ordeal had been replaced.

Had it, though?

Jaheira clenched her fist and looked up to meet Onyx's gaze, who sheepishly looked away, but the half-elf's eyes still burned in his mind, greener than he'd ever seen them before. And the facial expression had been strange, as the look of someone who realizes they have been spied upon but then enjoys it. He shook his head out. Why had he been staring at her and second-guessing her thoughts just now, it's not like he could hear them.

SPLASH!

Cold water hit him in the face. He opened his eyes to find Minsc sheepishly holding his water pouch. Buffy and Dawn were giggling hysterically, Arra was laughing under her breath, and even Valygar was snickering. "Sorry Onyx! Minsc squeezed it a little too hard in his mighty haste to drink and it splashed his good friend in the face!" the ranger announced.

"Actually, it was refreshing," Onyx chuckled back, and realized his own thirst and took a drink from his own pouch. Before he could wipe the water from his face, Dawn had withdrawn a rose-hued handkerchief and done it for him. As she leaned in to polish off his chin, her eyes flicked aside, and the cavalier's followed them to the river running beneath the bridge, and to the bank.

There were no trolls under the bridge this time either, but the bank on their side was quite grassy with scattered sitting rocks along it. Onyx and Dawn's gazes moved back to each other, as this triggered a deja vu from just the same morning…

Still a few hours from the stronghold, the party had camped the previous night near a river that had also been crossed during the expedition to rescue Dynaheir the year before. Onyx had woken fairly early, just in time to see the sunrise in fact. He sat in breeches on a rock on the east bank of the river; whose banks were soft and grassy and dotted with occasional trees and large rocks, and visited by thirsty deer. The early sunlight behind him reflecting off the slow-moving water was perfect for catching his reflection clearly and thus for shaving. Which he did by putting to his own throat the vorpal axe that had beheaded dozens of his foes. Vorpal edges really were the best way to get a clean shave though, especially when no creams were available.

His reflection began to blur as ripples spread across it. Stupid duck or something, Onyx fumed. Maybe I'll have a duck omelet for breakfast, he thought as he watched his axeblade gleam in the morning sun. He looked up to find the foul fowl which had foiled his facial foliation fixing, but instead saw a golden-tan forehead and the top of a blonde mass of hair, which were slowly beginning to rise out of the water. Jaheira up so early? Looked sort of like her with the braids out. He looked to the sides of the head, expecting to see the points of ears rise out of the water next and then two green eyees, but the long wet hair hung around the head, covering the tops of the ears and masking most of the face. The nose and them mouth and chin, obscured by wet, clinging hair, emerged from the water, then the neck began to lengthen above its rippling circles, and quickly grew wider as it bloomed to the left and right into muscular and pretty collar and shoulders, and then also blossomed forward into...

Look away, you fool! He'd frozen in the sheer oddity of the moment, but his higher functions had finally kicked in.

"Be you siren or succubus, though I might seem alarmed, I'm immune to being charmed and happen to be armed, return from whence you came and you'll not be harmed!" he accidentally rhymed with his eyes shut. "Otherwise, my sincere apologies!" He never froze up in fear, but hesitating with curiosity could cost the edge in an ambush, and make for a faux pas in an unexpected friendly encounter.

"Well, I must say I'm most flattered by your suspicions of my identity," the warm, musical voice of Dawn Raybringer laughed from above him - Onyx deduced she must thus be standing almost entirely out of the water. "But I'm a mere human female, I'm afraid."

"Oh, Dawn, it's you, thank - er, sorry, I was just shaving here with my, uh, vorpal axe, yeah..." he winced.

"I know," she laughed. "I thought I'd take a break from my swim and join you, if you don’t mind. Actually, maybe you could join me instead since you look done - wow, good shave by the way, I'd ask to borrow that axe for my legs if my clerical ethos permitted it - hmmm, perhaps you'd do it for me?"

"Uh, if you really need me to, but isn't it okay as long as you don't draw blood?" Onyx stammered with his eyes shut.

"Of course, I'm just teasing! I couldn't resist! But if you're willing...” she trailed off in a musical tease.

"I...would rather not, with my...you know..."

"Other commitments?"

"Yes," he said flatly.

"You're quite devoted to her, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am."

"It's quite impressive...and enviable, actually. By the way, you really don't have to keep your eyes scrunched like that."

"It's...polite. To you and to her."

"Well, your intentions are honorable, but isn’t it a little...silly and contrived and artificial? It’s merely my natural form."

"Yes, I suppose the manner is a tad arbitrary," Onyx admitted buy kept his eyes shut.

"It’s not like this doesn’t happen regularly on your travels, with the enchanting water-creatures you mentioned popping up to combat you from time to time. And don't forget the creed of Lathander. And I *know* you know what part I’m referring to," Dawn giggled.

"Yeah, yeah - 'take in works of beauty whenever possible.' Very modest of you, Dawn," Onyx gave a joking scold.

"Hey, I'm proud of me!"

"And so you should be."

"That's more like it. And I'm glad you do think me beautiful."

Onyx smacked his forehead. Well hadn’t he just walked right into that one.

“Not it wasn’t already obvious,” she teased.

The cavalier smacked his forehead again.

"So take me in."

Onyx sighed in defeat, "Fine, fine, I am being prudish I guess," and opened his eyes.

Wow.

"I'm glad you aren't trying to hide the 'wow' face. I think that's good. You have nice teeth by the way, even the backsides of the bottom ones."

Onyx snapped his jaw shut and smacked his forehead yet again. "No, I wasn't even trying, but I should have been."

"In some company, I guess. When in Amn, as they say. But you know how I personally feel. Pretty much the same stuff I preach."

Onyx nodded. "It makes sense. I guess it's hard to shake some things you were raised with."

Dawn pulled her wet hair back, tying it in a loose ponytail, and Onyx caught himself watching her as she moved. Not the arms though.

Dawn noticed and smiled. "I'm glad you like. It feels like having someone admire a work of art you made."

"You know, you have the body of a fighter."

"Yes, I do," she smiled and put extraneous movements into her hair tying, letting her smooth muscles ripple and watching it herself with a pleased smile. "And I can act like one when need be, as you may see soon enough. I’ve a sister who’s a thief but even stronger." After finishing the ponytail, she noticed Onyx looking away innocently and added, "You're trying to look away, even though you don't really want to. And you're blushing. It’s nearly invisible under your tan, but I can tell. I sense you’re wondering about my behavior. Tell me, young cavalier, I’m curious as to why you think I’ve doing this, what you think of it, and how you decided.”

“Well, the ‘obvious’ answer to the first is that you’re interested in me, but that’s a rather narcissistic assumption. The obvious answer to the second is to disapproval of it as amoral behavior, but that is a rather puritanical view. The ‘obvious answer’ to the third is that my other answers are what is easily inferred from simple social custom, but that would be rather rigidly judgmental.”

Dawn laughed warmly and clapped her hand. “Very eloquent, and very wise, especially for a paladin of your age. The tempered use of pride, judgment, and morality are all important aspects of the Lathanderian ethos. But I bring this up not merely to idly educate you, but because of a foreboding vision that has been forming in my mind.”

“Last night I dreamt of you, Onyx. I saw a wall of fire, and you came running out, followed by three knights. They were chasing you. They were emblazoned with tabards: one with a looking glass, one with a crushing hammer, and the third with a squeezing gauntlet. I awoke in a sweat. I was afraid for you, Onyx, but I told myself it was just a dream.”

“As I prayed at sunrise this morning, the dream plagued me still, and I had a vision. It appeared to me within a rosy mist, and I believe it was the Morninglord giving me his guidance, and I believe he meant me to give it to you. We will soon face the Saint and the Jeweler, but you have more adversaries. I saw them within you. They are the plagues of the righteous, they are the stupidity of the lawful, they have confused other paladins, and they were gnawing at you. Three of them. The first is narcissism. Pride. When wielded properly, it drives you to look and act your best, and not to do erroneous things lest they embarrass you. When you let it wield you, you become egotistical and will put yourself above your cause, or become vain and neglect your duties while you admire yourself. The second is judgmentalism; rashness. When wielding properly, it allows you to see right and wrong and make quick, logical decisions. When you let it wield you, your better judgment is replaced by hasty decisions based on rationalization, arbitrariness, and simplistic clichés. The third is puritanism, sanctimoniousness. When wielded properly, it allows you to recognize what is evil and what is not. When you left it wield you, your view becomes too narrowminded and you will be apt to vilify those living outside your needlessly strict morals.“

Onyx had been looking up at Dawn as she preached, but then the cleric kneeled on both knees and clasped one of his hands with hers, and her voice and face took on a more worried, almost terrified, air.

“As good, brave, and just as you are, Onyx, these faults nag at your human heels. I know that you have tended to each in the past, and made mistakes as we all do,” Onyx blinked thrice and swore he could hear Xzar laughing inside his skull, “But that you have been noble and wise enough to realize and admit it to yourself later. But they linger still, and this vision told me that, left undefeated and growing in power, these inner foes had spawned physical forms – the three knights of my dream. And that they rode even now across the material world, and seek you. We will confront the Saint and the Jeweler and their minions, but sooner or later these three will find you, and you will have to defeat them, though whether that means capturing, killing, or converting them I know not; or be defeated by them – and whether that would mean being slain or imprisoned, I also have seen not.”

“Within and without, I will defeat them.”

“I worry, but I believe you shall.” Dawn looked him in the eyes as she stood tall again, but the cavalier’s gaze soon flicked down over her body before he averted it. “Now, I’m curious about you as well. You seem truly devoted to this Aerie, even though you have been given ample," she hung on the word as she put her hands on her hips, "Opportunities to have other feelings. Oh sure, thoughts occur to you," she glanced down at her own body, then looked up the hill to where the rest of the party was encamped, "But I sense your heart, and I know your actions, and they remain yet as pure as your environment is...colorful." She looked back over her shoulder to the other grassy bank of the river, which Onyx noticed was quite green. "I have heard the tavern tales of course, but I have never met her."

In response to her obvious but unasked question, Onyx cleared her throat. "Where do I begin? I awoke in Joneleth Irenicus's dungeon, escaped with my remaining friends, one of which, the closest and dearest, was then captured by the damned Cowled Wizards - I'm happy Jon and I ended up trashing their precious Spellhold, but that's another story - saved a circus from yet another wizard foe, a crazy little illusionist - at that point, I was cursing magic so bad I'd have made our friend Valygar seem like the chairman of the Mystra Fan Club - and met her all in one day."

"Wow."

"I slept like a stone that night, let me tell you."

"I thought you found her on the way to whacking the illusionist?"

"My mistake, yes we did. The wacky gnome had put her under an illusion that made her look like an ogre. The first thing I noticed was the voice - wow. I remember Yoshimo laughing his head off at this ogre with this little elven girl's voice, and asking the monster if it was wearing a girdle of femininity and had it strapped really tight between his thighs instead of over them," Onyx explained as Dawn laughed, "And I'm sure I would have been cracking up too if I hadn't just been enchanted by the voice. Very musical, like yours actually..."

"Thanks," Dawn smiled and deliberately sighed a major scale.

"...But much higher pitched, of course. And then, when we managed to dispel the illusion in short order, and I saw her..."

"...She could see that you had nice teeth, even the backs of the bottom ones?"

"I'm afraid so. And I doubt it was lost on Yoshimo or Jaheira."

"So it was love at first sight - or, ah, sound?"

"Yes, it was. Simple as that. She eventually admitted she'd felt the same way. I cringe to think what the other party members must have been thinking while we were just staring at each other before being snapped out of it (by a goblin on a pogo-stick, of all things) and making introductions and taking her along."

"Raw physical magnetism, then?" Dawn's voice had no hint of disapproval.

"Oh, to be sure, but not just. Firstly, I think people underestimate the importance of sight - not in their own preferences and decision, of course, but in what they proselytize to others - there's a lot that can be learned about personality within the face. Something about how the eyes move and the mouth is held."

"Yes, I don't know how to explain it either, but there's more to it than has yet been put into words."

“Some of it I can. You might say the magnetism was also magical – literally. There was also the very strong aura of good she radiated. It was strange, but in a good way - that was the first time my divination powers had ever aroused that sort of reaction.”

”I note you say ‘first’ and not ‘only’.”

Onyx looked over Dawn’s body. “Well, to the degree I can’t control it.”

“But To what degree should you? To what degree have you?”

“Better than most can.”

“Control, yes – I can tell,” Dawn smirked. “But my second question referred not to control, but to arousal.”

“I’ll admit I’ve had to invoke the former against the latter just now.”

“And now my first question?”

“Should I? The answer to that, I think, is answered by remembering that we were talking about my beloved Aerie.”

“Very well. Do tell more. I believe things were not so simple as what you’ve told so far would suggest?”

“Unfortunately not. Even though our feelings should have been mutually obvious – I suppose they were to a few of our companions, but Jaheira obviously had no interest in alerting us, and Yoshimo whispered a few things my way but I was unsure of them – neither of us would admit to the other for quite some time. Even so, our circumstances still gave me my doubts – it was an especially dangerous period during my adventuring, and for a while it did not seem like she had the strength or will for it, and I did not want to fall in love with someone who might leave. Generally, if she had, say, gone back to like with Quayle and I could have still seen her – we did stay in Athkatla most of the time – but I wouldn’t have wanted to spare even a fraction of my time or attention from getting back Imoen. Not to mention that caring about someone like that would have made a ripe kidnapping opportunity for my enemies – which as you know, essentially ended up being the case anyway. But I did commit myself to trying to console her about her past trauma, to make her see the beauty of life on the ground, and overcome her fear of adventuring. I wanted to help her, and thought she could become a very powerful ally. It was on a knife’s edge at first – she acted as if she would have literally laid down and died if I’d let her – but I believed that she could become a stronger person, and a much more powerful one too – I’d not let my feelings affect my judgment on her place in the party – and indeed, as her spellcaster powers grew, which they did considerably, her character grew too. Her whining was annoying to the group, but never that much to me, most importantly because she didn’t act less capable than her abilities in the heat of battle, and perhaps also because I did truly pity her for her ordeal. It was understandably very, very traumatic for her, and talking helped. Jaheira saw it as inherent weakness; but I think it was not so much that she was weak or needy as she just wanted attention and pity – which is quite warranted in her case – and, in turned out, love. And gradually, she grew, and though she may still be outwardly whiny from time to time, she is very strong and has a good heart.”

“But a jealous heart, yes?”

“She and Jaheira never got along, and the reasons are far more than me. They argued on ethical and philosophical points – like Jaheira and I, but with less bother for civility. Jaheira had a much harsher stance towards her whining and weakness from the beginning. Jaheira and I had a number of private discussions on whether Aerie should really be with us. Of course you know who thought what; though I know both of us were putting tactical and logistical considerations above personal. I saw what Aerie could be, Jaheira did not. Ultimately, I was proved right. From the moment I met her, I was professionally fascinated by Aerie’s simultaneous abilities in divine and arcane magic – remember the tales of that Paladin of Mystra who was among the heroes to stop the goblinoid hordes of Icewind Dale a few generations ago? I was fascinated by that story as a boy; and always regretted I had not the intelligence to study the arcane. I felt Aerie could be great, and she is; far far better than her own mentor Quayle, whom I actually crossed paths with in Baldur’s Gate last year - that meeting left me with a much lower regard for those who spread their studies too broad and thin - as well as during the circus incident with him this past Mirtul – I’m not having very good luck with circuses, am I? I wonder if it shall continue – But Aerie has changed my opinions. Heck, she’s even a good fighter now, although admittedly it’s Crom Faeyr doing most of the work. And I see great things for her to come, not only in adventuring and field combat, but possibly in research, which she may be doing right now if she’s reached Candlekeep yet; as she is in a somewhat unique position to combine both types of magic in inventing new spells. She’s not quite to that point yet, but I think she will be in the near future.”

“It sounds as though your attention to her has been optimistic yet perseverant – a coupling of traits of Lathander himself shares and espouses. But you’ve somewhat glazed over the issue of jealousy. For example, do you really think Jaheira’s discussions with you about Aerie were purely of tactical concern? I’m sure that was her opinion on the matter - her harsh nature has already been quite evident to me these past few days – but perhaps she brought it up a bit more often? And do you think that perhaps Aerie, while I’m sure she believes what she argued with the druid, used it as a wedge between you and her, knowing of your own philosophical differences or just guessing them from your careers?”

“Oh sure; it’s occurred to me. They might have done it consciously or subconsciously or both. But everyone does things like that now and then. I try to expunge all elements of dishonesty from my own manner when speaking with allies and friends; but I’m sure I’ve still internal biases; and I think most people, even good people, do and have less of a bone about it. I wouldn’t call either of them ‘scheming’ as a general personality trait, though it’s possible their could have been tendencies on this matter. They are otherwise very forthright – especially so, in fact; both are quite quick to say what’s on their minds, though Jaheira more out of bossiness and Aerie more out of whininess.”

“What of the fact that Jaheira’s bossiness may have been an attempt to show herself off as a strong woman; or Aerie’s whininess in an attempt to curry damsel-in-distress appeal?”

“Well, I think mostly they acted naturally; it’d be rather egotistical to think they were revolving their behavior around me. Jaheira was…a bit more extreme in her behavior during that time than she had been in the past, but then again our Sword Coast adventures were far traumatic. To the extent that such concerns my have shaded it with either of them; I don’t necessarily see that as scheming or manipulative: if Aerie wants a very caring and attentative lover, then showing an emotionally fragile side is a way to test my suitability; analogously with Jaheira. It’s my estimation that Aerie not so much needed the coddling as just wanted it. Thus her bouts do not reflect true weakness, but nor are they disingenuous – I think many who observed her would trap themselves in a false dichotomy there.”

“An optimistic assessment – but I believe in optimism too, and have faith in your judgment.”

“Well, I’m not the most acute in these matters; but thanks.”

“But tell me – you haven’t quite answered whether the old damsel-in-distress bit appeals to you; or do you prefer the strong woman?”

“In a word, I prefer strength. It has nothing to do with intricacies of my own tastes; I have not the luxury for that – I am an adventurer, I have spent over a year being hunted by a variety of maniacs and now I’m seeking them out myself, and I need all the strength I can get. But it is important to differentiate between real strength, and the topical mannerisms of strong personality – though the latter can translate into material strength in some situations. But I include the core of personality in the former; as in someone’s tendency to stand up for themselves. So, all else being equal, which sort of mannerisms do I prefer in an immaterial situation? I confess I have no general rule of preferences. Doesn’t really answer your question, except by saying I can’t. In Aerie’s case I would say that I did not enjoy her desire for emotional support itself, but I did enjoy being helpful; as I do generally – as one would hope, given my profession – with a caveat. I would not enjoy the creation of a need for me to fix, and I am not happy to see someone in need – I believe many, particular those who fancy themselves overly heroic, fall into this trap of wanting someone to dig ditches so they can fill them up again – but I am happy to fix it. I’d not say that I enjoy it, but simply that I believe it’s the right thing to do, and it is rewarding to see what good one has done. It’s the same with just killing. It shouldn’t be enjoyed, but its ends should be appreciated. In the case of Aerie, I can’t say I enjoyed hearing her whining, but I didn’t really mind it – except that it pained me to see her unhappy. She was actually quite good about not acting helpless in battle, which was my first clue that it wasn’t a fundamental weakness, but merely a trait of her verbal personality. Nevertheless, I can certainly see how it would annoy most people, like it did Yoshimo, - though I think he found it a tad amusing too, which I didn’t quite approve of, but that’s another story - Nalia - though she of course pitied Aerie and masked her annoyance with concern, it was the same polite, almost forced, look-at-how-kind-I-am concern…but I’m being too hard on dear Nalia, she is a very caring person – and Jaheira, whose feelings on the matter you’re quite aware of. Minsc, of course, was nothing but caring for new witch, and he says Boo was too; Valygar didn’t betray an opinion on the matter at all, as you can image; and by the same we found Imoen, Aerie was already more self-controlled. And from a tactical standpoint, I believe she has become powerful than Jaheira, and perhaps any of my other companions or myself. So I can’t say categorically which of the two types I prefer, but perhaps I luckily don’t have to - Aerie has been the best of both worlds.”

“Even without cognizing the content of your words, though of course I am, I can see your great love for her, and you know how?”

“How?” Onyx asked but with a wry grin as if he guessed her answer.

“Have you noticed that it’s only when speaking of her that you say more than one short sentence at a time, and then you’ll go for minutes on end?”

“Imoen pointed that out to me…several times,” Onyx laughed sheepishly, “With varying degrees of amusement and annoyance.”

Dawn giggled but then her face grew more serious. “You neglected your other companions on the road, didn’t you?” the tone was not quite of admonishment, but more of sympathy. “The strain with your warder has been obvious. I can imagine it was so with your sister.”

“She…is not as confrontational about such things,” Onyx began guiltily, “But perhaps I did not give her as much attention as I should have. She spent so much longer in Irenicus’s clutches. We discovered we were siblings – though it changed little, I suppose we always considered ourselves so. She lost her soul. She has been through so much. I tried to be there for her, but I think she could have used more comfort than she let on. Oh, she’s tough to the core, but it would have done her well. She has lost the edge of her happy nature, but it can be resharpened. Her current vacation should help, and I mean to as well when this thing is over.”

“Very good of you. In the meantime, perhaps you would be wise to do the same with another you have neglected.” Onyx gulped and down nodded, “Yes, Jaheira. You have been…avoiding her almost, I’ve noticed since I joined your group. It is understandable – you fear another intimate moment,” Onyx balked as she said ‘another’ and Dawn smiled knowingly, “But it is not the right way to handle it. Onyx, she is gradually growing more distant from you personally and philosophically. Alienate her, and you may do more than lose a friend and a rightful soulmate – you may eventually make an enemy.”

Onyx gulped louder.

“As with Imoen, surely you feel you neglected her on your recent adventures and harbor guilt. Now is the time to right that. If you do not, when this quest is over, she will likely go her separate way, and you may see her never again, or next from opposite sides of a battlefield. I realize we will soon begin the most dangerous and hopefully final leg of this adventure, and you might think this is no time for such things, but indeed this is your only time, and it is running out. You must reach out to her, Onyx, you must become close to her, as you are to Imoen or Aerie – or Minsc, though that bond is so much simpler – or you will both be the lesser for it, and regret it for the rest of your lives. The nature of it I leave to you, but remember that devotion is not blindness, and commitment is not imprisonment. They say you feel no fear on the battlefield, Onyx, do not give in to it now.”

The cavalier clamped his teeth together and nodded reluctantly. “You speak wisely, Dawn.”

Dawn smiled as the sunrise finally came over the hill behind Onyx and surrounded him a halo of sunlight. “Very good, knight,” she smiled as she noticed a half-elven figure stirring in the camp on the hill, her silhouette quite striking against the sunlight surrounding her, and she pointed up to Onyx, who turned around and nodded understandingly, “Let us return to the others now. A new day has begun.”