Chapter Text
Nyrra’s shoulders relaxed the second the bridge across the ravine and back into the forest came into view. Tired, happy noises sounded behind her; she raised both hands in the air in a silent cheer. “Delightful,” Gale said wearily, somewhere a dozen yards behind her. “Might I convince you all to pause for a moment once we reach solid ground? I could do with a respite.”
“Aww, c’mon, it’s not even noon yet!” Karlach’s bright voice filled the air. “We got loads of time to go do stuff!”
“I must admit, I rather thought we’d explored the furthest reaches of this… quaint stretch of coastline.”
They absolutely had not. With the benefit of rest and several night’s sleep, Nyrra had a short list of locations she wanted to explore and visit. She’d entirely forgotten the toll house basem*nt, for starters– though she’d either have to find the key or get Karlach to break the door down. By her best recollection, she’d also forgotten a few hidden chests around the area.
Then there was… the entirety of the blighted village, practically– inside and out. She knew of more than a few locations to explore there.
“We can stop for a time,” she made her Lights say over her shoulder, “but there’s some things I’d like to do before we turn in for the night.”
A few quiet grumbles.
“We don’t need everyone to go explore the area. Some of you can go to camp straightaway, I don’t mind.”
Marginally happier noises. Nyrra laughed to herself and hopped over a stone. The owlbear cub– Nip, same as she’d called him last time– followed her lead and bumped against her calf, staggering her slightly before she recovered. She glanced down; he hooted up at her, almost as though apologizing. She winked at him before turning back to lead them the rest of the way down the mountain, a new-found spring in her step.
Across the bridge, as promised, she stopped and perched on the railing, tapping her heels idly against the stone. Her companions assembled around her, splitting up dried fruits and some hard cheeses for an easy, fast lunch. Shadowheart passed some over to her; she munched on it for a while, tapping a silent rhythm on the stones beneath her.
Soft conversations filled the air around her. Scratch laid down at her feet; Nip followed suit, shifting uneasily until she bent double to gently ruffle his feathers. Only then did he still– that, and after Karlach tossed him some smoked sausage.
Nyrra waited to start signing until the majority of the meal had been consumed. Only when she saw more hands empty than full did she clap her own to draw attention. “All right– like I said, there’s some more exploration to be done here. I know some of us are tired, and we don’t need everyone present to wander around areas we’ve already cleared.”
“Unless something’s moved in, in the absence of anything more dangerous,” Wyll pointed out.
She grimaced slightly and tilted her head. “Unless that. But no use inviting trouble– who wants to come with me?”
In short order, Karlach, Wyll, and (to her slight, silent surprise) Astarion volunteered to accompany her. The rest would return to camp and prepare for the night– hopefully just the one, before finding a path to the Underdark.
She, unfortunately, was not counting on only taking one day to complete any unfinished business in the area.
Regardless, they accompanied those returning to camp to the waypoint nearest the now-ashen Waukeen’s Rest and saw them through. Scratch, to her slight surprise, hung back a pace. When she tried to usher him towards the waypoint, he sat down at her side, tail tapping the ground while he stared up at her. You want to come with? she signed; he barked. A slightly confused shrug later, and she waved Shadowheart and Gale off when they came to collect Scratch.
Only once the other four disappeared did Nyrra clap her hands together. “Right! Who wants to go investigate that toll house further?”
“Ooh!” Karlach bounced on her toes. “Count me in, soldier!”
Scratch had to wait at the top of the ladder down, which he whined incessantly about until Nyrra kissed his head and told him they’d be back quickly. He laid down, head on his paws, and watched her descend into the basem*nt.
Without a key, it took only a few swings of Karlach’s greathammer to bust down the door. After the wood shattered into pieces, clattering on the ground at her feet, Nyrra peered into the dim room beyond. “Well!” Astarion said briskly behind her. “Something to be said for defeating a lock with a bit of brute force, isn’t there?”
“Well done, Karlach,” Wyll said with a bright smile.
“Thanks!” She slung her hammer over her shoulder. “Well– what’re we waiting for? Let’s go exploring!”
After successfully identifying and disarming the many, many traps in the basem*nt (Astarion’s job, while the rest hung back and called encouragement), the four spread out to canvas the area– searching through barrels and boxes alike for any sort of useful items to take with them.
Nyrra herself crouched in a corner, opening boxes, sifting through straw in search of their contents. As she huffed in frustration at yet another empty crate (there was a trick here, but she couldn’t recall what), cat-quiet footsteps approached.
“Any luck, darling?”
She shook her head without looking over her shoulder. He said nothing, but he didn’t leave, either; instead he lingered for a moment, before abruptly kneeling beside her to check a different crate.
Together, they searched the boxes in tandem. She said nothing to him; if he had something he wanted to say, it would come out sooner or later. Still, he held his tongue until she let out another huff. “There, there,” he murmured. “Surely a toll collector out in the doldrums had something delightful tucked away somewhere. We’ll find it yet.”
“I hope so.” She sat back, stretching her legs out in front of her and leaning back on her hands. It lasted until she realized she wanted to talk more and had to shift her weight again. “Are you doing all right?”
“Me?” A glimmer of surprise in Astarion’s ruby eyes when he looked at her. “Just fine, darling. All in one piece, happy and hale. Shockingly not even hungry, which is a delightful difference from before.”
She nodded silently, watching him for a moment. A blink, and his voice echoed from a distance– “-was right there!”
A tiny flinch– one he caught. An eyebrow rose. “I suspect I already know the answer, but I’ll ask it anyways. Are you faring all right yourself, darling?”
She looked up at him, confused and not trying to hide it. “I’m just fine,” she echoed. A brief hesitation– then she reached a hand out to him. He took it and towed her to her feet without pause. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” He studied her face for a moment longer, before nodding slightly. “Let’s go investigate, then, shall we? I thought something about those chairs seemed– well, rather off.”
The chairs! She nodded and followed him towards the two built-ins.
The further they explored, the more Nyrra recalled. She felt only a bit bad about leading them all over the wilderness– first beneath the half-broken bridge to search the Harper and Druid skeletons, then up and across into the now-abandoned blighted village. Without goblins watching their every move, it was far easier to sweep the buildings for anything useful. Scratch assisted mightily– more than happy to sniff out buried treasures they’d missed the first time through, revealing a fair few chests hidden by long-gone residents.
Oddly, the questions about her well-being didn’t stop there. As she leaned against the apothecary counter, trailing her fingers down the ledger in search of anything useful within the pages, a warm body sidled up to lean beside her. “How’s it going, soldier?” Karlach asked, grinning down at her as she glanced up.
“Well,” Nyrra signed back with her own smile. “Find anything useful?”
“Just these.” Karlach lifted and shook two glass bottles, both corked and sealed with wax. “Label says this’s an antidote. This one might be a Potion of Animal Speaking? Definitely smells like it. Oh! And some old bottles of wine, too– seems like the goblins didn’t have the patience to check everything.”
She clapped briefly in delight, before dropping her attention back to the ledger. She expected Karlach to leave, frankly, return to searching through the apothecary’s shop– but she hesitated instead. Nyrra caught the twitch of her tail out of the corner of her eye. “Something amiss?” she asked, when she couldn’t take the weighty silence any longer.
“Wha– oh. Right. Sorry, soldier.” Karlach coughed a little. “How’re you holding up? You scared all of us something awful when you got back from the creche. Gods.” She shivered a little, looking down at the counter. One nail idly picked at a sliver of wood.
Gods, I miss hugging her, Nyrra thought– for what would likely not be the last time. “I’m ok,” she told Karlach. She reached out, rested her hand just beside Karlach’s– just close enough she felt the heat, but not the burn. Karlach looked up at her; she gave a gentle smile. “I’m sorry I scared you– I didn’t mean to, I promise.”
A flicker of frustration. “That’s not what–”
“Hey!” Wyll’s voice echoed from the other side of the counter. Both women leaned forward as he poked his head out from the trapdoor. “Astarion just found a lever– looks like there’s some kind of hidden lair down here!”
“On my way!” Nyrra signed, closing the apothecary’s ledger immediately and rounding the counter. Karlach followed a few steps behind her. Neither said another word on it.
After Astarion’s curiosity got to be too much and kicked off a short-lived fight against some undead, they found the mirror. Nyrra convinced it to let them pass, thanks in part to the various journals and notes she’d skimmed; then they stepped inside the extended basem*nt with whistles of amazement and murmurs of surprise. “See what all you can find,” she ordered them, before taking herself to one corner of the basem*nt where books stacked almost up to the ceiling.
As she sifted through the books in peaceful silence, footsteps approached again. “Mind if I help?” Wyll asked when she glanced over her shoulder, giving her an easy-going smile. “Seems like the others have found plenty to investigate, but I’m afraid I’m rather lost on that.”
She stepped to the side and smiled warmly, before turning her attention back to the books themselves. He drew one at random from the shelf and opened it. For a time, they stood in easy silence together.
But of course, as she was growing to suspect, it couldn’t last long.
He cleared his throat as she closed a book– an old tome Gale might enjoy, she thought– and placed it on the table beside her. “I don’t wish to pry,” he started, and she knew where it was going before he continued, “but I did want to ask– are you feeling better, after everything that happened at the creche? I know I wasn’t there for most of it, but I believe I know quite a bit just from what our companions have said. Everything that happened– it would be a lot for anyone to bear.”
Lucky, then, that I’m not just anyone. Nyrra shrugged, returning her attention to the shelves. “I’m just fine,” her Lights said. “I’ve had some time to recover– practically right as rain already.”
He seemed unsurprised, though she caught his shoulders sinking just slightly at her words. “I thought you’d say as much. I know you don’t want to talk about it, but… sometimes it helps. I’ve found it does, at least.”
“You’re sweet.” She closed the book in her hand, reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “But you don’t need to worry about me. I can handle it.”
Far from seeming reassured, Wyll frowned more deeply. “Be that as it may–”
The sound of machinery engaging. A yelp of surprise. Nyrra whirled, book falling from her hands, Counterspell at the ready.
“Merely a trap!” Astarion called from the other end of the room, voice strained. “Just– give me a moment–”
She ran to check on him, leaving Wyll (and the conversation) behind.
Once Astarion managed to successfully disarm the trap (though not without some choice words from Nyrra for not alerting the rest of them to its existence) and retrieve the strange, dangerous book she vaguely recalled from within its sanctuary, they gathered once again within the apothecary shop above-ground. “Anywhere else we want to look?” Karlach asked, grinning at her.
She hesitated, but the hour had grown late as they explored the wilderness further. “Not tonight,” she signed, shaking her head. “And I, for one, am hungry.”
“Gods– I could definitely eat.” Karlach brightened. “D’you think Gale ever figured out how to make those really good stuffed flatbreads? One of those sounds divine.”
“Only one way to find out.”
Their return to the campsite loosened her shoulders the moment the light cleared. Cheerful voices called greetings– well, some cheerful, others more subdued. Nip raced towards them, dancing in place as he greeted first Scratch, then Nyrra. “Just in time!” Gale called from beside the crackling campfire. “Halsin was kind enough to hunt for us– we’ve got fresh meat roasting and vegetables besides. Go wash up!”
Dinner and the companionship, as well as the familiar setting, relaxed her down to her core. Nyrra tucked her feet beneath her and laughed merrily at the tall tale Karlach told, involving herself as a young scamp in Baldur’s Gate getting up to no small amount of trouble. Then Wyll took a turn, telling a story of a foe he’d faced out in the frontier. Even Lae’zel contributed a small anecdote of mischief she’d committed in her youth.
Shadowheart alone remained quiet through it all, food half-finished as she listened in silence to the stories told. Nyrra, sitting on the ground beside her hip, gently rested her elbow on the log and let it slip until it rested against her. Shadowheart glanced down– but said nothing. Only nodded slightly. Nyrra nodded back, and neither said a word.
The night drew in around them. When the sun had long since vanished beneath the horizon and the fire began to burn low, Astarion rose to his feet. “Well! As delightful as this has been, I believe I’d best be going. That wildlife isn’t going to hunt itself, you know.” He gave a brief, gallant bow to the campfire as a whole. “Thus, I bid you goodnight.”
It started a chain of departures; next Wyll, then Halsin with a courteous bow to those seated around the fire. On and on they went, each slipping away to their respective tents. On another night, Nyrra might’ve followed– made the rounds to ensure everyone was feeling all right, reassure those who needed it that all would be well. Instead she stayed by the fire, watching the flames dance and idly petting Nip’s head as he dozed at her hip.
Shadowheart lingered for a while, but eventually she, too, arose. “Goodnight, both of you,” she said briskly. Her fingers grazed the top of Nyrra’s hand, just for a moment, before she turned and left for her tent without another word. Nyrra waved goodnight, then turned her attention back to the fire.
She’d thought she was alone, which was the sole reason she let out a long, slow sigh. Scratch dragged himself closer, nudging her open side and resting his head on her thigh. She closed her eyes and let the heat of the fire roll over her, pushing back the night’s light chill.
“Quite the long day, wasn’t it?”
She jolted a little, eyes flying open. Gale startled as well. “Apologies– I didn’t mean to give you a fright,” he said quietly.
Nyrra let her shoulders slowly settle again. It was Gale; she trusted him. “Just a little surprised,” she signed. “You’re all right. What was the question?”
He repeated the question. She shrugged with a smaller smile. “No longer than any other. Shorter, if anything. Give it a few tendays and fall will be here.”
“Will it really?” Gale blinked a few times, then made a quiet noise of surprise. “You’re right– I hadn’t realized. Time has… blended together, for lack of a better term. Strange, isn’t it— how just a tenday and a half can feel like so much longer?”
He got to his feet, gathering the spare bowls scattered around the campfire. She caught a light wince that crossed his face as he straightened. Alarm spiked. She moved Scratch’s head from her lap and got to her feet, reaching out to grab his arm. “Are you all right?”
“A momentary pain. It’ll pass.” He sat down again regardless, pressing a free hand to the orb with a wince.
She moved to stand in front of him, studying his face carefully. “Do you need another item?” she signed, racking her brain for the last time she’d given him an artifact. The more days she counted, the more alarm built. “Gale–”
“Nyrra.” He grabbed her wrist before she could pull away, peering up at her. “I used a spare artifact a few days ago. I can go a few more before I require another to sate the monster.”
“Ok. Good.” She hesitated, uncertain. “Then–”
“It merely– does this, sometimes.” He kneaded the orb with the heel of his hand, face screwed up in pain. Nyrra crouched, then went to her knees in front of him before she could think better of it, studying his face with silent worry. “I’ll be all right– truly.”
“Forgive me if I don’t quite believe you.” She knew her smile was wry and did nothing to change it. “You could’ve told me you needed another artifact– I’ve got a few stashed away for you.”
“It would’ve been rather difficult to do, seeing as you were unconscious at the time.”
She stilled. It was his turn to study her face. “My sincerest apologies,” he murmured after a moment. “That was… uncalled-for behavior.”
“No, you’re fine.” Nyrra drew away, got to her feet again. The stack of dishes drew her attention; she picked them up, restacking them so the utensils all sat within the top bowl. Her Lights flared to draw his attention. “I’m going to go wash these, unless you need something–”
“Nyrra–”
Both paused. Gale got to his feet, hand falling from the orb to hang at his side. “At least allow me to assist,” he murmured.
“If you’re hurting, you should rest,” she said stubbornly. “And besides, you cooked. The least I can do is clean up.”
And before he could stop her, she turned and headed down to the river.
Before she finished cleaning out the second dish, soft footsteps approached. Nyrra huffed in frustration, looking up at Gale as he stopped beside her. “You should be resting,” she signed, unable to fully commit to glaring at him.
“A momentary lapse.” He knelt beside her, taking another bowl from the stack and dunking it in the current. “It’s already passed.”
She nodded slightly, letting out a long sigh. Together they worked through the dishes side-by-side, completing the task in practically no time at all. At the end of it, Nyrra sat back on her heels and used the back of her hand to shove her hair out of her face.
“May I ask you a question?” Gale asked abruptly beside her.
“You just did,” she signed, unable to help herself, but she turned to face him straight-on. He studied her, a small frown on his face. “Ask away.”
“Are you all right?”
What was that– the fifth person to ask after her well-being in less than two days? Nyrra blew out a breath and rolled her eyes. “Why is everyone so concerned?” she asked. “I keep telling everyone, I’m just fine–”
“Pardon me for saying so, but I don’t believe you.”
She faltered; her hands stilled. Gale didn’t look away, still frowning as his eyes flicked over her face. “You went through not one, not two, but three traumatic experiences, one after the other, with no time to stop and rest,” he murmured. “So dire was your condition when we returned that you collapsed. I believe you can understand where our apprehension stems from.”
“I can understand where it comes from– but it’s in the past.” She got to her feet; he rose as well, leaving a few inches of space between them. “We have the path to Moonrise to worry about now– the Underdark as well, and–”
“We are not worrying about the future. We are worrying about the present, and how the immediate past has affected you.”
The sharpness of his words alone silenced her again. Gale looked out over the river, worrying the inside of his cheek. When he looked back, his words were gentler. “Nyrra, you frightened us– all of us. It’s only natural you would be too. I believe the lack of apparent distress merely troubles us more.”
Nyrra raised her hands to sign, hesitated, bit her lip. For once, she could think of nothing to say– nothing to reassure him. Instead she crossed her arms over her chest, then reached up to rub her face. The river drew her attention. She looked out at it and stayed still.
“Nyrra,” he murmured very softly. Her attention snapped back to him. He offered her an open hand. “It’s understandable if you aren’t all right. Gods know all of us are dealing with some sort of personal trouble.”
Her gaze flicked to the orb in his chest, then back up to his face again. “All of you are sweet to worry,” she signed with a quiet smile. She tried to make it more playful as she added, “I’m an adult– I can handle this. You don’t need to worry about me.”
He let out a long, quiet sigh. His hand, empty, fell back to his side. “If you’re quite certain,” he said, sounding absolutely unconvinced.
“I am.” She didn’t lose the smile, kept it firmly in place, even winked at him and privately delighted at the very low flush that broke out over his cheeks for just a moment. “You should go to sleep. I’ll take first watch tonight– you’ve done plenty, and I’m sure you’re still tired from the hike.”
“You walked further today than I did,” he rejoined.
“And you made dinner.” She nearly hip-checked him for old time’s sake, stopped herself just in time. “Go on, old man– get your rest.”
He sputtered behind her as she headed back towards the light. “Wh– old man?!”
“I’ve heard your knees creaking when we have to sneak around,” she tossed over her shoulder, not bothering to hide her grin as it grew. “Go on– get along with yourself. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Fingertips grazed her arm. She turned to face him, only to find him standing much closer than she’d expected. The laughing smile faded as her eyes went wide with surprise.
Gale studied her face for a moment, his own good humor fading. “I hope one day to be someone you can trust with your true feelings,” he murmured quietly. His hand rose, hovered over her cheek– fingertips just barely brushed beneath her eye. She felt each and every one as though it were a brand against her skin. “Goodnight, Nyrra.”
“Goodnight,” she signed, unable to tear her eyes from his. The faintest ghost of a smile; then he stepped away and retreated to his tent.
And Nyrra, long after he retired for the night, sank to a seat beside the fire and buried her face in her hands.
Her silent reverie lasted for some indeterminate amount of time. Nip eventually wandered over and slumped at her feet, swiftly falling into a light doze. Scratch sat at her hip, chin resting in her lap. She shook herself enough to rest one hand on his head. The other covered her mouth, supported her chin.
Scratch finally huffed and drew away. He trotted off towards the bags they’d brought back from their scavenging trip and began rooting through them. Nyrra watched him idly; the night was still and clear. She had little else to do.
She straightened only when he returned with a potion bottle in his mouth, tail wagging gently.
Smart boy, she signed approvingly, taking the Animal Speaking potion from him. So late at night, drinking the whole thing would be a waste. She uncorked it, took a sniff and wrinkled her nose, then cautiously took just a sip.
The taste could never be improved, but it didn’t matter. She coughed slightly, shook her head.
“You didn’t drink the whole thing,” Scratch pointed out, sitting down in front of her.
“Because it’s unnecessary,” she signed. “I just need an hour’s worth, give or take.”
“Oh. Good.” He tilted his head, scratched the side of his neck briefly. Nyrra reached out to assist, digging her fingers in beneath his collar. He sighed out happily when her fingers found the appropriate spot. “What happened at the stone building, friend?”
Of course. Nyrra fought to keep her face straight and her hands steady. “We had a few rough fights,” she signed. “And… well. I remembered how it all went, the last time we went.”
“I remember.” Scratch huffed. “It was very noisy. Shook the whole valley. But you didn’t make that happen this time. You worried us.”
“Us who?”
“Me. Nip. The other two-legged ones. You worried them terribly.”
She sighed, but the sound of his name had awoken Nip. He chattered softly as he blinked those enormous liquid-brown eyes open. “Who speaks?” he asked, looking at Scratch.
“I did. But the lady can understand you right now.”
Nip scrambled to his feet, bouncing up to put hefty paws on Nyrra’s lap. “You understand me?” he asked, beak clicking with the haste of his speech.
Nyrra laughed soundlessly, nodding. “I can,” she signed, then reached out to pluck a stray feather from his ruff. “How long did you follow us, little one?”
“Up into the mountains!” Nip pronounced proudly. “Scratch helped get me food! And when you were hurting, he let me stay in your tent. Said you wouldn’t mind.”
“I didn’t.” She cut her gaze to Scratch. “Thank you.”
His tail wagged a little stronger, too close to the fire for her comfort. She nudged him so his body turned away from it.
“Scratch said I should thank you for fixing my paw. So– thank you!”
“You’re welcome.” She gave him another smile.
Scratch began to speak, but Nip cut him off. “Scratch says you have to speak with your hands. Why can’t you use your voice, like the other two-legged ones, or us?”
“Nip, that’s impolite,” Scratch said reprovingly, sounding for all the world like an older sibling reprimanding a younger one.
She just laughed. “It’s all right, Scratch. I was in… an accident, many years ago. It took my voice away. So I use my hands instead.” She wiggled her fingers, then gave in and scratched Nip’s ruff.
“Ooooh, that feels nice,” he said, melting against her calf.
She clicked her tongue in agreement. For a few minutes, they were content to sit in silence together, regarding the fire.
Then Scratch huffed. “You are feeling all right?”
Of course. This would explain why he wanted to speak with her. Nyrra let out a gusty, weary sigh that flickered the fire. Nip grumbled in malcontent as she drew her hands away. “Everyone seems so insistent that I’m not doing well,” she signed. “Why does no one believe me when I say I’m perfectly fine?”
“You are the one who read further into it, friend.” Scratch sat, crowded close to her legs. “And the others don’t see how you look sometimes when you are alone. We do.”
Nyrra let out another sigh. “Yes, all right.” She closed her eyes briefly. “I’m just– recalling things. From before. That’s all.”
“You mean from the before we remember?” Scratch asked. His ears went flat against his head. “And– I’m sorry I revealed too much to Karlach. I just missed her so much.”
“Oh, love, I don’t blame you,” she signed, folding forward to press a kiss to his forehead. “I miss hugging her too.”
His tail thumped against the ground. “You didn’t answer my first question, friend.”
Damn. “From the before, yes.” Nyrra sighed. “It’s fine. I’ll get it under control.”
“You can always lean on me,” Scratch told her, and rested his chin on her knees.
“I know I can.” She hugged him silently, and they sat like that for a while until Nip grew impatient and began twittering for more pets and asking questions.
If she’d hoped for her dreams to be an escape, they were not.
Instead, Nyrra closed her eyes within the confines of her tent, flanked by Nip and Scratch, and opened them within the Astral Plane.
“I told you I’d be back,” a nearly-playful voice said somewhere nearby. Nyrra sat up quickly; the source of the voice came into view. For a moment, she blinked in shock.
Her Dream Visitor didn’t look like Brys anymore.
Relief, tinged with aching sadness, ran through her as she stared up at the now red-skinned tiefling. His horns curved like a ram’s, no jewelry dancing along their length; he still wore the armor of the Guardian, but he appeared more at ease. Nyrra got to her feet without his help, studying him with a small frown.
“Do you like the new look?” he asked, spreading his arms. “I thought on what you said– in the creche. You were right. Wearing your friend’s form– it was a poor choice on my part. I ask your forgiveness.”
She inclined her head just slightly– not a full apology, but she’d allow it. The Visitor seemed to take it as acceptable and nodded.
“No need to worry, by the way. I have everything under control– for now.” His shoulders sagged in a sigh. “But you really couldn’t stop yourself from visiting the creche, could you? Now the Githyanki will hunt you from one end of Faerun to the other.”
“I have everything under control,” Nyrra echoed, her hands flying as her Lights swiftly spelled the words.
He snorted. “A sense of humor. I see. I can’t help but notice you haven’t been using the tadpole’s powers, though. You think you don’t need them– but you hoped a druid as powerful as Halsin would be able to help you, and he couldn’t. You thought the zaith’isk would cure you, and it couldn’t. Desperate as you are to be rid of it, you seek help wherever you can find it– but you’re looking for solutions in the wrong places.”
“It was worth an attempt,” she said with a shrug. “Both of them.”
“An attempt, yes– but be thankful neither succeeded. The tadpoles are modified with powerful magic. Had either attempt succeeded, you would have died in the process.”
She blinked at her Guardian, then shrugged. “And? At least I wouldn’t be a mindflayer.”
He stared at her, eyebrows creeping up towards dark hair, before shaking his head. “A deathwish. Wonderful.”
“Make no mistake,” Nyrra signed, staring at him. “I appreciate your help in defending me from the Absolute– I suspect it’s due to your intervention none of us have transformed?” At his nod, she gave a nod with a satisfied smile for appearances. “I thought so. But should your assistance cease– I have no qualms ending matters where they stand. I will not be a mindflayer. I will not transform, only to murder those most dear to me.”
She’d struck him mute. He blinked at her, then raised an eyebrow. “A bold claim to make— but one you may yet regret—“
”I won’t.” Nyrra turned away, towards the edge of the rock in the Astral Sea they stood on.
“Ah. Does this have to do with your visions?”
She cut her eyes to him, raising an eyebrow in turn. “I’m surprised.”
”That I know of them?”
”That you haven’t asked about them sooner.”
”Hm.” The Dream Visitor approached, coming to a halt beside her. He folded his hands behind in a very familiar fashion. She chose not to comment. “The tadpoles connect us— unfortunately, as I’m sure you’re already aware. I do my best to not use them unless necessary, though.”
By the grace of whatever gods watched over her, Nyrra managed to refrain from laughing. Liar.
He either pretended to be oblivious or truly didn’t hear her. Instead he continued, “But— your visions are… strange. Concealed from my sight. Much of your mind is shrouded from me, in fact. Your companions are open books. You alone remain… strangely removed.”
She cut her gaze to him sidelong. “Is that so?”
He nodded with a troubled frown. “It concerns me, especially to not understand why it is so. No amount of… investigation will allow me to see further.”
Prying, you mean, Nyrra thought derisively. She remained perfectly still, staring out towards the enormous crowned skull.
Somewhere within, a Githyanki prince remained trapped.
There must be some way to save his guard, and him.
At that precise moment, though, the sound of attacks breaking on a shield caught their attention. He looked towards the source. “Hells– they need me. I have to go.” He looked back towards her. “Be that as it may– I will protect you until I cannot anymore. But I need you to help me. The cultists gather at Moonrise Towers. Therein lies the source of the magic which keeps your tadpole from being removed. You seek to go there already– good. Move with all haste, use your parasite to convince them you are one of them, and when you find the source of the magic– destroy it.” He held up a hand. “Go now. Our freedom depends on it.”
And the darkness swallowed her once again, dragging her into deep sleep.
