Chapter Text
Siren:
A Baldur's Gate Tale
Eleven:
The Magic of You
The cold had fingers that crept under the clothes and over the skin, seeking warmth and smothering it. Breath fogged out in white clouds. The crunch of boots and ground seemed inordinately loud.
The group walked quietly; staying in the light, staying in the safety. Because to step outside the shine of that lamp was death. Painful, ugly, horrible death that crept and killed and devoured you while you stood, trying to find your strength, and failing to find your hope. It permeated where it touched, ink on canvas, black on white. Something shimmered in the air like oil on water, a smear, a stain, suggesting the dark wasn't real, promising that dark had an end. But it had no end. It was everywhere. And walking through it made you despair.
It wasn't the Underdark. It was worse. It was so much worse. Almost as if you were walking through a hallway, opening a door, and finding the hells beyond. Simply existing in that dark took a toll, leaving you breathless and raw.
The first arrow that winged from the shadows struck the ground at the foot of the drider in the lead. The spider with the torso of a man froze. He shouted, "Who goes there!? What brings you!?"
A voice called, "Death, you bastard. We've come to give you yours!"
"Harpers!" shouted the drider as the goblins surrounding him scattered with his battle cry, "to arms!"
Karlach muttered, "Harpers...those are the good guys."
Selkie breathed, "You're sure?"
The tiefling nodded. "Oh, yeah. If there's anyone in this wasteland with the answers on what comes next. It's the Harpers."
Then it was time to turn on their leader. The drider and his goblins had been leading them to the Absolute. If they sided against the Harpers, the Absolute would likely welcome them in, they could play the devout soldier and find the core of the infection in their heads and destroy it. But what if the cost of that was hundreds of innocents that stood against the dark?
With little choice, Selkie looked to Laezel who stated, "In battle, more allies are better than none."
And that decision was all she needed to hear. Her group broke apart. Gale shot his hands into the sky and threw a veil of light around them, brightening the dark, offering them sanctuary from that encroaching shadow curse.
Selkie ran her hand down her staff and made it glow bright as the sun. The Blood of Lathandar, the mace in Shadowheart's hand, responded to the call of power. It erupted with light as a lighthouse in a storm. And Karlach roared, "Now!"
They turned on the goblins as the drider roared, "What are you doing!? Fools! Charlatans! Liars! Destroy them in the name of theAbsolute!"
An arrow zipped beside Selkie's head. She turned her staff and knocked down the goblin behind her. A tongue of flame caught the edge of her robes and set them ablaze. The bard gasped, her hands slapped wildly at the fire that ate up the fabric and Gale shouted, "Call the water, Selkie!NOW!"
Right.
Magic.
She had it. She needed to remember that. She called water to her hands and doused her robes. She called a bit too much it seemed as a storm broke above them, bathing them all in torrential rain. But the lights held, blasting through the dark in sparkles and spears of color.
Selkie shot a stream of water from her staff and blasted the closest goblin off his feet, sending him flying through the shadows. Above her, Gale commanded, "The high ground! Get to high ground!"
Right.
She knew that, too. What was this? Day one of battle tactics?
Selkie raced for the ramshackle building beside her. Through the rain, her boots slipped in mud. She grabbed for the edge of the falling roof and the drider landed on the ground before him. He shook the earth with his arrival. The bard stumbled and he grabbed her throat, picking her up off the ground to shake her like a scruffed dog before him. He roared into her face, "I will take back the gift you have stolen!"
One of his legs shot toward her face. She grabbed it with both hands to stop it from jabbing through her left eye. But she lost her staff to do it.
A grumble of thunder echoed in the air. The leg touched close enough to her face to tickle with all the cilia on its curled extension. Selkie choked as the drider squeezed so hard that she felt her vision turn red and black.
And fire erupted from her hands. It caught in a blaze of glory. The drider was trapped in a double edged sword. He screamed in pain and rage, but he held on as his leg caught fire.
Something streaked through the darkness and hit him in the chest before it landed. Scratch - come to fight for her survival. The dog attacked one of its other legs. The sounds of battle filled the sky around them. Screams, grunts, the sing of swords striking.
The fire on Selkie's hands died as her body began to dangle, the red and black eating through her vision until her eyes began to close. She thought -this is the way the world ends, in storm and dark.
And a blast of light hit the drider mid-body. He screamed as the swish and metallic song of metal filled her ears, and she tumbled downward as his leg was cleaved where it burned. He dropped her, backing away, shying from the light as it ate over his skin like a disease.
Selkie landed in a set of arms. Limp, she collapsed backward as someone yelled, "Get her out of there! Go!"
Karlach's axe came down on the half-spider with a warrior's battle cry.
The world bled around Selkie. She felt the rush of feet. She felt the light follow them in a halo as the rain hammered down. When a goblin reached too close, they were blasted back with a shout from Wyll in the distance.
The absence of cold rain came quickly. The sounds of battle receded. She gasped as her hair was jerked back and something cold dumped into her mouth. Sputtering, gagging, Selkie batted at the hands that held her until Gale's voice commanded gruffly, "Be still. Stop fighting me."
Right. She knew that. She knew all of this. But the instinct to fight was hard to repress.
And it didn't matter. It couldn't. Because her body gave up for her. She stopped breathing and went limp.
The dark was comforting now. It was soothing. It was empty. There were no visions, no pain, no anger or need or hunger. She floated.
Before she burst from the comfort of nothingness into the freezing air once more.
She lay on her back beside a fire. The rain continued beyond a dilapidated roof. It leaked through, dripping quietly onto the dirty ground. Her chest ached. Her throat burned. Her eyes felt dry and coarse.
She croaked. "Am...am I dead?"
"Not yet," Laezel's voice drew her attention from behind, "though you've created quite a stir with your theatrics," the gith snorted, "always the drama with bards."
"I felt dead."
"You were," Laezel confirmed with a shrug in her voice, "but the wizard clamored atop you to push on your chest, breathing into your mouth as humans do when one dies gloriously in battle. As if death is the end any of us can avoid."
"...he brought me back."
Not a question. A statement. Her heart ached. Laezel laughed, "He did. Or someone of stronger magic. Though I suggest you search inside you for the truth."
She didn't have to roll over for Selkie to know she was alone now. She opened her magic to search inside herself. She felt the pull of the weave there, curled in her belly as a cat in the sun. And strings of something that wasn't her, wasn't hers and wasn't abating.
The thunder grumbled as Gale's voice filled the silence. "You're awake."
Lying on her side, Selkie's voice was hoarse and pained, "...what have you done?"
His tone was empty. "Tied your life force to mine."
Selkie whimpered. "Why?"
"You died in my arms," his tone was so cool, almost cold, "I saw no other choice."
"You could have let me die."
"Should you have perished," the wizard stated softly, "you'd have taken the soul of this struggling group with you. I couldn't let the dark have you. Not now."
"What did it cost you?"
He said nothing.
Selkie's voice hurt, her throat aching, as she croaked out a shout. "What did itcost you,wizard!?"
"Nothing I couldn't afford to lose."
Selkie rolled over to face him. He looked so solemn there in the doorway of the hut, so sad. It was the most calm she'd ever seen him. There was a flinching of pain around his eyes. His lips were nearly colorless.
Selkie pushed to her knees. "Damn you," she accused in a harsh grunt, "you've weakened yourself."
"I'll be fine." His voice turned teasing, "I'm always fine. I mean - look at this face." Gale gestured to his bearded countenance, "It's something to behold. The face that launched a thousand ships from Waterdeep to battle for one smile. The eyes of a lothario, lustily leaving the ladies and a few of the men hungry for but another glance. It's as fine as a meal made by the hands of the gods. And feeds so many with its beauty."
Selkie tossed a handful of dirt at him. It hit him in the chest and made his mouth quirk with a smile. "Was that supposed to wound me?"
"You will not risk yourself for me again."
Gale's brows winged up. "Commands? I thought we had agreed there would be no commands among us. Only democracy."
"f*ck your democracy!" The bard shouted in a tiny voice that hurt, sounded like she'd swallowed a frog, and made the wizard's eyes sparkle with humor.
"Such language from a lady," Gale admonished with a tisking sound, "you don't seem grateful to your savior."
"You," Selkie grunted each word slowly, one at a time, "will not risk yourself for me. Do you understand?"
"I'll do as I please," Gale returned flippantly, "as I've always done. You'll not give me orders. Not now, or ever. Should you try," he shrugged, "I will ignore you, as any man ignores the ranting of a woman when she becomes shrill."
"Arrogant prick!" Selkie rasped.
"Ungrateful shrew," Gale responded happily, "You're wasting precious breath on ranting at me. The dulcet tones of your former voice now sound as grating as metal scraped on glass. Shall I leave you to your sulk?"
He turned on his heels and left her. Selkie stayed hunkered down, a hand on her throat. She winced at the pain.
A hand on her back had her head turning up. Shadowheart brushed a hand down her hair. "Come on then," the cleric put that hand beneath her elbow to help Selkie rise, "no more pissing and moaning. Best to get a move on."
"He knows what happens if he uses too much of himself."
"I suspect he does," the cleric laid a hand on Selkie's throat and chanted softly, "but he knows his own strength. You should have more faith in him."
"He's going to do it."
Shadowheart tilted her head as the spell spilled into Selkie's throat to ease the pain. "Is he?"
"He's going to use the orb to end the Absolute."
"How can you tell?"
"Because he's already careless with his life." Selkie looked at the other woman desperately. "How do I stop him?"
"Have faith," the cleric returned, "in him. In his mind. In his heart. Have faith."
She patted Selkie on the back as she announced, "As good as I can do for now. I need herbs to craft a better tonic."
Selkie touched her throat. It still ached but it was tolerable. "Thank you."
"It's what I do." Shadowheart patted her back again. "Come."
She left the hut in the rain. Selkie stepped out into the dark. Everyone's weapons glowed in the shadows, lighting the way. She carried her staff as she joined them.
Karlach urged, "Ok, bits?"
Selkie nodded. "Thank you, everyone, for waiting. I'm sorry I wasted precious time."
Astarion's voice came from the shadows. "We've wasted more than enough on things less important."
Her eyes met his red ones as the vampire inclined his head to her.
"Do we know where we're going?"
They told her about the Last Light Inn. The Harpers had taken the moonlamp with them and gone there to wait. They were to follow when Selkie was well. They did so now, moving through the shadows.
Astarion paced up beside her and told the bard, "I'd have done the same."
Her eyes flicked up to him as he affirmed, "I'd have gotten to you first if I'd been faster."
"Don't," Selkie touched his arm, "don't. I'm not worth that."
"You're worth all of it," the vampire returned and then leered down at her, "I've yet to see the whole of you. But should you die before I do, I would mourn that loss forever."
Selkie bumped him with her arm, glad he was making light of it. "Why would he risk everyone for me? If he'd lost control..."
Her voice trailed off. Astarion arched a brow. "You know why, little fool," his voice was thick with humor, "you know why. He's the type to play hero, it's true. But more so, he's the type to see value in risking the many for the few."
"It was stupid."
Astarion snorted. "He's that, too. But he didn't see everyone, songbird. When you were down. He didn't see everyone. He just sawone.And that one was you."
"If he'd have lost control, we'd all be dead."
"Yes," the vampire chuckled, "but he'd be dead with you."
"You want to be dead with me?"
The rogue laughed happily. "I am dead, my love. Long dead. But I'm not sure I'd want to finish even this meager existence in a blaze of glory such as that. Although, at least it wouldn't hurt...would it?"
Selkie laughed. "I would hope not."
"My luck," the vampire retorted, "it would hurt as nothing the hells could ever replicate. And I'd wake up on the rack in Avernus, tortured for eternity by watching gnomes and halflings f*ck."
Selkie couldn't stop the next laugh. "Is that your version of hell?"
Astarion brushed his hand against hers. "I've lived my hell, my treasure. Whatever comes next is just icing on a very ugly, very poorly baked cake." He paced with her for a moment longer before he stated, "I'm glad you aren't dead. And grateful for the stupid wizard risking it at all to keep you that way."
He walked on. Selkie lagged, shaking her head.
She hurried up until she was beside Gale and stated, "I shouldn't have yelled."
He said nothing.
"I don't want you to weaken yourself for me, Gale. It's important that you stay strong."
He was silent.
"I can't be the only wizard," she tried again, "I'm not good enough."
Still nothing.
"If you died, I would never forgive myself."
His face was empty.
"Your life is worth more than mine, Gale," Selkie tried once more, "it doesn't matter what happens to me. It changes nothing. The world goes on. But you...you have to live. You have a part to play in this...but it's not Mystra's. That's not the answer. It's not the way. Do you hear me?"
He lengthened his stride to outpace her without a word. It was the first time since he'd met her that he hadn't deigned to respond. He didn't have words now, Selkie thought, he had none for her. Not even a flippant remark or a curse. Nothing.
Her heart ached with remorse.
As they came upon a graveyard, the group began to pick their way through. They crossed around a mausoleum and started under a bridge. Selkie was just crossed under the bridge when a hand snatched her arm. It dragged her to the side before she could protest.
Gale pressed her against the stones of the bridge in the shadows. His staff haloed her face as Selkie breathed, "I don't know what I'd do if you died."
His face looked hard in the glow of light. She stuttered, "I know it's not-not as simple as all that. I k-I expec-Iunderstandthe logic of we all die, too. I get it." The hard expression was making Selkie nervous as hell. "But it's not as simple as all that. I can't let you die for me," she almost shouted, "I can't let you die for me," Selkie repeated more gently, voice shaking, "I can't be th-"
"Shut up." The wizard's hard command stopped her lips from moving.
"But I ju-"
"I said be quiet!" His tone lashed out like a whip against her stammering. Selkie shut her lips in surprise. "I've spent a long time letting a woman tell me what to do." The statement made his dark eyes flicker with rage. "The goddess speaks, the devout obey. I know the rules. I understand the verbiage. I was basically spoon-fed the zealotry until I couldn't tell you where I ended and Mystra's will began."
His left hand lifted and flashed with fire until Mystra's beautiful face floated beside them. The wizard snapped, "The grandiose adventure of a wizard in the weave is as involved and intricate as any tale told from the lips of liars and spinners since the egregious inception of our erstwhile universe." He shook his shaggy hair. "I drown in the ugly truth of my devotion to such a..."
He trailed off. He looked at Mystra's face with sadness. As the word for her failed him, Selkie snapped it for him. "Bitch."
Gale's eyes flicked back from the manifestation of his goddess. Selkie reiterated, "Yeah, bitch. That's the word you're seeking you stupid, blathering, wonderfully loyal fool of a wizard. Bitch. Because only a bitch manipulates and grooms boys to be her servants. A bitch uses her body to seduce and enslave. Bitch. It's not hard. You have every other word in the vocabulary of the forgotten realms in that enormous brain of yours - use this one: bitch."
Gale shook his head. "I can't. She isn't. It's not as simple as that."
"Nothing ever is with you," Selkie retorted, "but this? This is. Are you comparing me to that bitch?"
"No," Gale grunted angrily, "Yes. No. I don't bloody well know the answer to that."
"And you claim to have the answer to everything."
"I won't be another tool for someone to command, Selkie," the wizard snapped testily, "not for Mystra. Not for you. Not for anyone. I can't." Gale blinked twice and then added, "Well, I can, technically. I can. I can do any manner of things really. So the actual use of the word can't doesn't really apply. What I meant was that I won't. I won't be anyone's pawn, anyone's toy, anyone's we-"
Selkie elbowed him in the sternum and took his breath away. He grunted, she hooked an ankle behind his and spun him against the wall. Her hand snatched his arm and slid up. She called magic and extinguished Mystra's visage from his hand. "Turn that bitch off."
Gale blinked twice as she growled. "One - I have no interest in commanding you or anyone. Two - you are no one's weapon. Three -"
He interrupted her. "But I was just saying that I w-"
"Three!" Selkie put her hand over his mouth to silence him. "Three," she repeated, "you talk too f*cking much. Stop talking."
Her hand slid away. Gale spoke immediately, "But I feel that it's imperatively rude and without decency to just t-"
"I said stop talking, you stupid man." Selkie surged against him. She clung to him, squeezing so hard it left no doubt of the feeling in her. After the first surprise on his face, Gale quickly recovered. The hand not holding his staff curled around Selkie's waist to pull her tighter to him.
When the hug broke, they stayed pressed together, breathing raggedly. Selkie spoke first against his softly heaving cheek. "Just because I can't have you, doesn't mean I would risk you. Not for Mystra. Not for myself. Not for the world."
She pressed their foreheads together and clung for a moment before telling him. "Stop talking yourself into your own death...because I'm not worth dying for. And I'm not worth killing everyone else to save."
She let go of him and stepped back. Gale watched her light bob down the darkness of the underside of the bridge and said nothing. The words failed him. He had them. They were on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to shout after her.
He wanted to tell her he was in love with her. Because he was nearly certain he was. He couldn't quite say it. Because the love he bore felt tainted somehow, dirty, and covered in old wounds and raw regret. What he loved, he inevitably destroyed.
How could he offer what he didn't have to give?
All he had was pieces of himself. He'd given her the first when he'd shielded her on that ship from the Mindflayer's influence. He'd given her the second the night he'd brought her with him into the weave. He'd given her the last tonight, a piece of his soul to protect her from death. He wanted to give her everything he was.
But the worth of himself was lost under the need to bemore.To becomemore.He could find a way to be agod for her.What trifling waste was it to offer the man? The man was nothing. A wizard of some considerable power with quirks and flapping lips. But he could offer her eternity.
He could finally offer her immortality, the same as Astarion could - but without the loss of the sun to live it.
He couldn't forget that his death would kill her too. But if he could find a way to become more...then he could finally offer her more than just a man. He could offer hereverything.
