It returns, as promised. And here begins the crazy part. Having all three romances active at the same time sounded like a good idea at first. Really.
From now on I'll be running essentially four viewpoints, about as well as I can. Comments welcome.
Kal's eyes snapped open. He had been dreaming...but he couldn't recall about what. Snatches of images floated in and out of his vision. Imoen...Irenicus...Gorion, Khalid.... When will I ever get to dream like a normal person?
He sat up in bed, too awake to go back to sleep. Then again, I'm not exactly a normal person...unfortunately. Kal's eyes glowed red as they took in the heat around him, translating it into an image. Minsc lay in one of the other beds in their shared room, a giant blotch of red in Kal's vision. A much smaller orange patch slept comfortably on Minsc's chest. Yoshimo's assigned cot had only his pack, the thief having gone out again with some of the party's gold to spend the night gathering information again. Kal rubbed his eyes, lay down again, and tried to make himself sleep.
It was a bright, sunny day, the kind that always put a smile on Jaheira's face, even when she didn't want it to. Kal glittered slightly in the sun. I must tell him about that sometime, she thought. I don't think he even notices. Minsc and Dynaheir walked slightly behind him, while Imoen was playfully skipping along the side of the road, as usual. They were going from...somewhere to...she couldn't remember. Her brow furrowed. She should know where they were going, and for that matter...where they had come from.
“D-dear? Is there anything w-wrong?” Khalid asked her from his usual spot by her side.
“Nothing,” she replied absently, still thinking about where they were going. Ahh, it doesn't matter. Kal knows where we're going. I should just enjoy the day. She turned to feel the sunshine on her face, closing her eyes, and her left hand reached out for Khalid's.
The sunshine's pleasing warmth suddenly faded to an empty cold, and her hand passed through the air. Startled, Jaheira opened her eyes again. It was very suddenly night, and the black sky held not a single pinprick of light. The path had suddenly grown dark, and long shadows hung over the trail. She looked about - Kal and Imoen were suddenly in cages, so was Minsc, Dynaheir was gone, just a pile of rotting bones, and Khalid...!
A vortex of whirling, black-edged blades had suddenly appeared on the road, and Khalid, dear Khalid, was being drawn into the storm of knives! She reached out, past the bars of her own cage - when did she end up in her own cage? - and took hold of his arm, which was reaching out to her, but he was being pulled back and she wasn't strong enough to keep him from being pulled back....! She held on to his arm tighter, she wouldn't let him be taken from her again! A rogue thought fluttered in her mind - again?
“J-Jaheira...,” Khalid gasped, knives tearing into his side.
“Khalid! No...no!” she screamed back, holding on to the arm. She focused on the arm, she couldn't bear to see Khalid cut up and slashed, she had to fight, to hold on....
A rough jolt, seemingly out of nowhere, shook her vision. She held tighter to the arm, even as, paradoxically, Khalid faded and seemed to move further away. “...nnno...Nnn...no...NO!!” she screamed as Khalid vanished into the swirling, cutting stream of knives.
Her eyes fluttered open. Her hands were locked around an arm, but it wasn't Khalid's. “W-what?” she said, faintly. She looked around, and memories began to seep back into her brain with wakefulness. They were at the Den of the Seven Vales...sleeping. She was sharing a room...with Aerie and Viconia. And she was...holding on to Kalvorin's arm with a death grip born of sheer desperation. Flustered, she released his arm immediately.
“I heard your thrashing through the wall, Jaheira,” Kal whispered as to not disturb the others. He motioned towards the door, and Jaheira slipped out of her bed. Once they were outside, Kal turned to her again. “You are lucky that your roommates sleep like the dead. Is everything all right?”
“No, there is something...very wrong,” Jaheira admitted. “I...I had a nightmare. Khalid...I thought I was stronger than this.”
“Jaheira, you're not weak. Not at all,” Kal said, quickly. He thought back to something Gorion had taught him long ago. “'There is no weakness in honest sorrow'.”
“'Only in succumbing to depression over what cannot be changed.' I know the book of Alaundo too, Kal. There is no need to quote it at me.”
Kal blushed, a kind of coppery color. Certainly not a common event for the confident paladin, Jaheira thought with an inward smile. It's actually a rather nice color, she thought, then almost blushed herself as she caught her thoughts before they ran too far in that direction. “I...I didn't mean that...ah, I, um, would never presume to, uh...,” Kal stammered, still caught up in trying to form an apology.
“It is all right. I understand what you were trying to say, even if you said it poorly. It is just that....” Jaheira's eyes grew distant, and her voice trailed off.
“People grieve every day for the fallen, Jaheira. It has been only a few days since we found Khalid. There is no need to try to stuff your emotions in a corner so soon. We're only mortal, Jaheira.”
“Do you...do you ever...think about him?”
“Of course I do. Every minute. He was my friend, too. So many times I keep thinking I can just turn around and he'll be there walking next to me.”
“You...don't show it much. I almost...envy you for that,” Jaheira said, still wiping at the tears that wouldn't stop.
“Yeah, I don't...cry much. Maybe even...not enough. You know, I always like being something apart from those lily-white rigid-board glory-and-machismo paladins, but I guess a bit of that rubs off on me anyway.”
A memory tugged insistently at Jaheira. The Friendly Arm. “The only time I've ever seen you cry was....”
“Gorion. I must have been a wreck for the whole week. To be honest, I don't remember much about it.”
Jaheira was about to try and say something nice, but her memories returned in a bright, stunning vividness. “You...were. A wreck for the whole week, that is. Imoen wasn't much better.”
“See, if I can do it, there's nothing wrong with you doing it either. No one will think any less of you for it.”
Jaheira sighed. “I know, it is just that I am always...”
Kal waved a hand in disgust. “Who cares how you are always? It's not like this kind of thing happens to you every week and a half. Don't feel pressure to be how you are always. It's been a long time since I've needed you to be Big Bad Jaheira....” His voice trailed off as he saw her expression change.
She mock-scowled at his last comment. “Oh, 'Big Bad Jaheira,' is it?”
Kal shrugged, and smiled apologetically. “Oops.”
“You may be correct, though. I have been...keeping the emotions away and...that may not be altogether healthy. I will...think on what you have said.”
“All right, then. Good night, Jaheira.”
Jaheira was about to reply in kind, when the sounds of thrashing about were heard from inside the women's room. “AHHH!! HELP ME! HELP ME, PLEEEAAASE!!” Aerie screamed.
Kal sighed. “Try to get some sleep, Jaheira. I'll handle it.” They both slipped carefully into the room, Jaheira going for her own bed, while Kal checked on Aerie. Jaheira was tired, even more so since her previous sleep had involved violent motion, and fell asleep quickly.
“Aerie? Is...everything all right?” Kal asked quietly as he approached her. She was sitting up and shuddering.
“I was – ” she began in a normal tone, then suddenly looked about her at the sleeping forms of Viconia and Jaheira. “I was having a dream - a most dreadful nightmare,” she continued in a whisper. “Please...please sit with me for but a short while...I am not...ready to go back to sleep right now.”
Kal motioned outside the door again. When they were outside, Aerie began to talk again, words coming out so fast they tumbled over each other. “I...I was back in the circus, after my owner had decided that my wings had become too diseased. I had been laying in my cage, sweating and delirious for days...his men came and pulled me out, and my wings burned so! I could barely cry out, I was so weak! And...and they began to saw off my wings... hacking at them with rusted knives!” She paused, and drew a deep breath. “It was if...I was there, as if I was going through it all over again! I was screaming as they cut off...my wings and used...torches to seal the wounds!”
“Calm down, Aerie. That was a long time ago,” Kal said.
“I...know. But...don't you think it was just so...so terrible?”
“Of course it was,” Kal agreed. “I can't imagine what it would be like to go through something like that. But you can't let it influence you now.”
“You are...right. It was so long ago...I should not be having...problems with it now. I am sorry that I am so...weak.”
“There is nothing to be sorry for - you are no more responsible for that than you are the motion of the sea and stars.”
“Perhaps...it has been a long time since I last dreamed so...vividly, and about those events, though. I had tried not to think about them, until I was talking with you on the way here....”
“Then I am sorry for being around for you to talk to,” Kal said with a remarkably straight face.
“Sorry for- That's not your fault!” Aerie said.
Kal shrugged. “If you can apologize for something you're not responsible for, I can too, right?”
Aerie thought about it for a second, then smiled. “I guess. Thank you for staying with me - it is a great comfort.”
“Think nothing of it. Any time.”
“Thank you once again. Anyway, it's getting late.”
“I think the term is early,” Kal said dryly. “You're right though. Go back to your room, get some sleep.”
Aerie opened the door as soundlessly as she could, then crept back in and slid carefully back into her bed. She smiled a wide smile, imperceptible in the room's darkness. Aerie fell asleep happy. Everything was going just as it should.
Kal stayed in the corridor for a few seconds after Aerie had returned to her bed, ensuring that all was peaceful. Finding that it was, he was about to go back to his own room when Viconia stepped out into the hallway.
“Don't tell me that you're also having bad dreams,” Kal said rather tactlessly.
“Of course not, jaluk. I merely wish to talk for a while. I do not 'sleep like the dead', and the bawling and neighing of my roommates has ensured that my sleep is dead, at least for the time being. Besides, it did not seem that your sleep was any more comforting,” Viconia pointed out.
“That...that it wasn't,” Kal admitted.
“It has been a long time since I last saw you, and that was up near Baldur's Gate. What draws you to this part of Faerun? Amn? Athkatla?”
“Well, I'm really trying to figure that out myself. The last thing I remembered before waking up under Waukeen's Promenade was walking through the woods near Baldur's Gate....” Kal went on to explain the situation as he knew it, culminating in Imoen and Irenicus' capture by the Cowled Wizards. “...so now, I'm going to find out where she is, and rescue her.”
“Why would you be so concerned over a prattling and addled teenager?” Viconia asked.
“She's the little sister I never had, and I love her like one,” Kal answered honestly. “And she's not that much younger than I, so if you're going to consider her age as any kind of reason, consider that I'm only a bit older and I'm in charge here.”
“You surfacers have a far different definition of sibling relations than the one I am used to, Kalvorin. In the Underdark, brotherly love can take a far more sinister tenor. Position in the family is determined by order of birth alone - and there is only one way to get a promotion under those conditions.”
Kal winced. “You mean you have to....”
“Kill the sister or brother in your way. Yes. Love is a cruel mistress and family, sadly, an afterthought. I...sometimes I wish things could have been...different. I almost...envy your relationship. It's truly inspiring.”
Sensing that Viconia had nothing else she wished to say on the subject, Kal turned to a different one. “So...what have you been up to since you left us?”
“What have I been up to? I have been a lost soul. When your race is universally despised across Faerun it is an uphill battle to even find a bag of dirt on a stable floor for the night. Children throwing apples, merchants loosing the hounds, hunters with their arrows...there is no peace for one such as I.”
“Why didn't you stay with us? You just slipped out one night in Beregost.... We would never have....”
“Honestly? I believed you were weak. I thought you would never survive, and never succeed in your quest.”
“Really?” Kal raised an eyebrow. “As you can tell, I survived just fine, and Sarevok now graces the Abyss with his presence. What made you think that we'd never succeed?”
“Weakness. You showed it every day, donating to beggars, helping people in need. Pah! You seemed to have no focus, no will to succeed. Above all, you were far too trusting.”
“And what is weak in trust? Trust is an important part of a group's spirit and morale. We all need to trust each other in order to work well together.”
“What is weak in trust?” Viconia asked sarcastically. “Let me tell you a story about trust. It happened shortly after I left you in Beregost.”
“All right, go ahead,” Kal said.
“I made the attempt to purchase land on the outskirts of the area. I was not looking to be a farmer, of course. I just...wanted a place of my own. Where I could find peace.”
Kal nodded. “Right...,”
“Eventually, a good-sized lot was available at an affordable price and I moved there. My neighbor was Roran Midfallow, a stout, sunburned farmer. We spoke often, and I allowed the male to bring me items that I needed, but could not go into town to buy myself. Over time, we formed an awkward friendship. He did not ask why I wore my hood, and I slowly began to trust him. I thought his willingness to help me, even if I was always hooded, was a sign that he was accepting.”
“Go on...,” Kal said.
“The time to reveal myself as Drow came one late afternoon. A warm day; the sun was dappling along the south quarter of his farmland, and I pulled down my hood. Then he smiled a warm inviting smile. He mentioned that his oldest son, Jiscanan, was busy making a feast to burst the first button, and that I was invited. We walked to his farmhouse together.”
Kal nodded. “And then...?”
“When I reached his farmhouse, I learned his true intentions. Somebody hit me in the back of my skull, and the ground rushed up to meet me. I had grown weak in my trust. They chortled as I lost consciousness, saying how easy it had been and congratulating each other on a fine...a fine catch.” Viconia paused for a moment, eyeing Kal's expression. “When I awoke, I could see nothing except for the lid of a coffin. They had brutally abused me while I was unconscious, and buried me alive to hide their sins. I split the coffin lid and let the earth in. I clawed to the surface, and pain did not slow me... I would not let weakness deter me from vengeance. I had been weak, and I would make up for it with strength.”
Kal motioned for her to go on. He did not trust himself to speak at the moment.
“I took my revenge, Kal. I watched their house, listening to them celebrate their victory in the midst of drunkenness. Jiscanan, the younger son, left to use the outhouse. I jammed a stake in the door, trapping him inside. Then I set the building aflame. Roran came running, yelling to Funnard. As he stood helpless before the flames I wrapped a garrote around his neck, then tightened the wire as he watched his son burn. By the time the elder son, Funnard, returned with a bucket from the well, his father was a corpse and his brother a smoldering ember. I struck him from behind; he fell, and I caved in his head with a miner's mallet.”
“That...that's awful!” Kal gasped.
“Indeed, you might say so. And what started it all? Trust. I trusted Midfallow, he betrayed me, and I in turn killed him. I was not looking to kill rivvin, Kal. All I wanted was peace...but trust betrayed me, and betrayed my peace.”
“Well, I...I can't say that I object to their fate. This...this Midfallow was hardly the kind of person to trust,” Kal said, having retrieved some composure. “That speaks nothing to the nature of trust, itself.”
“How was I to know?” Viconia asked. “Trust never ends well in the Underdark, and so the safest thing to do is not to trust anyone. I never knew who or how to trust.”
Kal considered it for a moment. “I can see how you came to that conclusion, and I see that it must have been difficult. But you certainly can see how none of my companions then would betray me, and I hope you certainly weren't planning on it. I trusted you, and I don't regret it.”
“Hah. If you only knew more of me you would not be so ready to trust, and you would be even weaker if you continued to trust me.”
“Come now, Viconia. I see no reason why I shouldn't. I've seen nothing 'bad' about you.”
“You know not what I have done. If you knew, you would be quick to condemn me, of that I am sure.”
“I am not so sure. Have you really done such terrible things? Or do you simply feel the need to claim that you have?”
“You...you know nothing about me! These...unfounded accusations are...!” Viconia stammered.
“Of course,” Kal replied serenely, content to let this one pass for now. “But how else am I weak? Trusting who I believe to be trustworthy has not ended badly yet.”
“You are fortunate, that is all. Trust is for the foolish! And if you continue to display such fawning spinelessness, I may yet leave you again!”
“I won't change how I act, Viconia. But I...would very much like for you to stay,” Kal said quietly.
Viconia blinked, then snapped, “Well, I seem to have nowhere else to go for now. I suddenly feel tired, I will try to sleep again.” With that, she turned abruptly and walked back into her room.
Kal was about to call her back, but thought better of it. He heard the noises of the innkeeper preparing for the beginning of another day. I might as well try to catch an hour or so before the sun comes up. Kal dropped on to his bed and was asleep in seconds.
