Faded Dreams

Faded Dreams

Soris stared out into the inky blackness. “So this is where you grew up? How did you live without seeing the stars?”

The stars held special meaning for Soris. When he was young, Gorion would take him out into the courtyard of Candlekeep, and the two of them would spend hours looking up at the stars. Imoen rarely came. She said that stargazing was boring and would instead occupy her time pilfering small objects from other residents at the keep and playing general pranks. For Soris, this was good. He enjoyed the time he spent with Gorion. Sometimes his father would point out a constellation and then tell a story about it. Soris loved the stories. It was as if he were actually there, with the heroes. Later, he would try to tell Imoen the stories, but somehow, his renditions did not have quite the same effect. How he wished the events now were like one of Gorion’s stories. In the stories, the heroes always won. Their friends made it out alive. They defeated the villain, and the hero always, always found his one true love.

“Well, not this hero,” he thought. “Everyone says I’m a hero, but so far, I’m O- for-three, and things are not looking up,” he thought dejectedly.

It had shocked him when he first realized that life wasn’t one big story, and that things did not always turn out all right. That had been the day Gorion died. On that day the stars shone a little less brightly. Over time, Soris had come to realize that sometimes the heroes didn’t win, and when they did, it often didn’t feel like it. He wanted to run away, but something always prevented him. Besides, he was responsible for hurting too many others. He needed to set things right.

Almost inadvertently he let his mind drift about the camp. He could hear Minsc’s snoring and the gentle squeaks that Boo let out when he dreamed. Jaheira slept, but Soris thought she looked ready to strike even sleeping. His gaze moved on. It rested next on an older paladin. Keldorn had gotten off to a rocky start with the party, but had proven his merit, and had even come to accept Viconia. It was only a truce, for the benefit of Soris, but they weren’t still trying to kill each other. The next member of the party was difficult for Soris to look upon. He could only dimly see her in the soft phosphorescent light of the cavern, but still, she was enough to take his breath away. The light glinted off her silver-white hair and seemed to give it a glow of its own.

“Just like the stars,” his mind whispered. “Just not my star. Not anymore. Even the brightest stars grow dim and fade.”

At that moment, another voice broke into his thoughts. “Hey, Soris, you alright? You seem a little withdrawn.”

Imoen’s normally cheerful voice was laced with concern. She had always been Soris’ constant source of moral. Since her rescue, however, she had been different. Her sense of humor was still there, but she was more serious, determined. She’d lost a great deal of the innocence that once defined her. He missed that in his sister, and it hurt him to think that he was the cause. As she came closer, he could see the scar, one of many given to her by Irenicus. He clamped his mind shut. He didn’t want to think about it.

“I’m fine. How about you?”

“Alright, thanks for asking. Now, what’s bothering you? If it’s the whole Baahl-spawn thing, I understand. We can work through it. You don’t have to do it alone.”

“But Imoen, I am.” Sobs threatened to choke his voice. Soris paused to give them time to pass. “I am because I’m responsible. I’m responsible for Kalid and Dynaheir, and you, and…and I failed. I’m the leader. I never asked for it, but I am. Everyone looks up to me, and… and then I fail them.”

“That’s not true! No matter what you think, you did not fail me. I never thought I’d get out of there, but here we are, and don’t you worry. We’ll get our souls back. We may not be the heroes of stories, but let me tell you. No one is. We’re just people, and we have to do the best we can. Some of us have done pretty well given the circumstances. And its not just me who things so. You can ask anyone here.”

She paused to allow Soris time to think. His gazed drifted back to the sleeping Viconia.

“But this isn’t just about your leadership is it?” Soris didn’t look at her, but she could tell she was right.

“You love her, don’t you?” All Soris could do was nod. Imoen pulled her brother into a fierce embrace and whispered, “She loves you too, but she can’t admit it, not yet. She might never be able to either, but you’ve got to move on. Don’t run away. Let us help you. You don’t have to do it alone. Never alone,” she repeated with passion.

They sat for a time brother and sister, together again. After a time Imoen pushed him up and told him, “Go get some sleep. It’s time for my watch. Think about what I’ve said. I know it’s hard.”

Soris slowly walked to his bedroll. As he passed Viconia, she murmured fitfully and a solitary tear ran down her cheek. He wish there was something he could do to ease her pain, but she had pushed him away. As he watched her, a lock of hair broke loose and fell across her face. Almost without thought, he reached down and gently brushed it back into place, catching the tear as he did so.

“I love you,… my bright star,” he whispered to the darkness.

He walked back to his bedroll and lay down. His mind slowly drifted out into the darkness. Somewhere above him stars were still shining.