Chapter Text
The Netherbrain had been defeated. The cult of the Absolute had been disbanded. And, after saying her heartfelt goodbyes to her companions, Shadowheart had left Baldur’s Gate. The time of rebuilding would not be attended by her. Although she had very few memories of anything, too many of those she had of Baldur’s Gate were simply too painful.
The pain in the wound on the back of her hand had stopped the moment she’d ended her parents’ suffering. But, Shadowheart had come to understand, there were far worse causes of pain than a cursed wound. Her parents’ words begging for their suffering to be ended played on a loop in her mind. Her father’s tired eyes, her mother’s broken body and spirit. And, finally, their promise, spoken in a raspy, yet solemn voice:
”By the Moonmaiden’s grace, we’ll never be far.”
Shadowheart cast her eyes to the night sky. Somewhere, she wanted to believe, her parents were watching over her. They’d been Selûne’s faithful followers. Their goddess must’ve embraced them in death. They were at peace now. But theirs were two more souls that had left this world by Shadowheart’s hand.
And Shadowheart felt rotten.
There had been moments along the way when Shadowheart had felt proud of herself. It would be hard to ever forget Karlach’s face, the sheer elation on it, when she’d thrown Shar’s spear into the abyss and freed Dame Aylin from her soul cage. Her friend’s hugs and comfort after returning from the Shadowfell had been a promise that everything would be okay. But she couldn’t bring herself to believe that anymore. Too much suffering had been caused by her hands. So it was better that she’d left everything behind.
She would’ve wanted to get a little further than Wyrm’s Lookout; the place was haunted by ghosts she didn’t really want to share her bedroll with. Alas, it was a reasonable, logical choice before heading out into the wilderness. She didn’t quite know where she wanted to go, as long as it wasn’t Baldur’s Gate. When the others had asked, she’d merely told them that she wanted to be alone.
Shadowheart gathered firewood like she had done almost every night for the past months. She lit a campfire. She cooked some toast and eggs on the coals. She ate. Finally, after a long day of blessed loneliness, she curled up on her bedroll by the glowing embers. The stars looked down upon her from the dark sky.
”Goodnight, mum and dad,” she whispered, as she had done before falling asleep ever since they’d become Selûne’s moon motes. There was a bittersweet sense of comfort in thinking they might’ve heard her each time.
*****
In her dream, Shadowheart was sitting under a tree on a grassy hillock. The branches of the old maple tree arched up towards the skies and provided a welcome respite against the warm late summer sun. A pair of swallows performed their joyful dance in the air, their forms but dark silhouettes against the bright, blue sky. Shadowheart closed her eyes, enjoying the gentle breeze on her skin. A deep breath in, and she opened her eyes. Immediately, she gripped the handle of the dagger hanging off her belt.
A woman was walking up the hill, towards her. She had chocolate brown, shoulder-length hair, and a pair of brown eyes to match. She wore a bard’s clothing, made of mismatched fabrics in colours Shadowheart had barely even seen before. She looked at Shadowheart with open curiosity. To be entirely fair, Shadowheart’s own expression probably mirrored hers; so vibrant was the garb of this newcomer.
Oddly enough, Shadowheart was rather aware that this wasn’t real life. She decided there was no need to waste polite speech on a figment of her imagination.
”Who are you?” Shadowheart asked bluntly as the woman reached the tree under which she was sitting.
”Do you always tend to greet new people with so little grace?” the woman asked, a smile playing on the corners of her mouth. Her voice was velvety, mellifluous even. Shadowheart hadn’t ever heard a voice quite like hers. The woman sat on the grass in front of Shadowheart, crossing her legs. ”You don’t mind, do you?”
Baffled by the woman’s straightforwardness and strange looks, Shadowheart simply shook her head.
”I’m Elody,” the woman finally answered Shadowheart’s initial question.
”Shadowheart.”
Elody raised her eyebrows. ”An interesting name,” she mused, but rushed to add: ”In a good way, of course. There must be a thrilling story behind a name like that.”
Alarm bells began to ring in Shadowheart’s mind. The woman was quick to ask personal questions. Why? What did she want with Shadowheart? Although Shar had left her alone since she’d walked out of the House of Grief for the last time, she couldn’t put it past her old brothers and sisters to hunt her down for turning her back on them. After all, she did know a lot about their operations…
”None that you’re entitled to.” Shadowheart’s voice was intentionally cold. Perhaps acting off-putting would get rid of the unwelcome, nosey woman.
The faint furrowing of Elody’s brow told Shadowheart that she was taken aback by Shadowheart’s sharp tongue. She had to commend the woman for how well she hid her displeasure, though. Anyone who hadn’t received the intense training in subterfuge that Shadowheart had gone through wouldn’t have noticed.
”You don’t want to talk about yourself,” Elody said. This wasn’t a question, but an observation. And Shadowheart cursed herself for letting her cover drop. She would have to brush up on her skills if she was to survive out in the world on her own.
The time Shadowheart had spent with her friends had clearly made her soft. Not that she’d minded - there were some things people couldn’t go through together without becoming close. As it turned out, a quest to save the world from ruin was one of those things. Although it had taken her very long to warm up to her companions, she’d begun to truly appreciate their company.
But that was then, and this Elody woman wasn’t a friend. And she was shrewdly interrupting Shadowheart’s alone time.
”You’re right. I don’t,” Shadowheart replied to Elody’s earlier statement. ”As a matter of fact, I’d prefer to just be silent.”
Elody smiled. ”That’s fine with me.” Her voice was lighthearted. ”We don’t need to talk.”
The woman stayed there with Shadowheart, sitting quietly, patiently, occasionally eyeing Shadowheart with intrigue in her expression. At first, it irritated Shadowheart. Why couldn’t Elody just leave her be? However, the longer they sat there in silence, the more Shadowheart began to feel a sense of gratitude that, although only in this dream of hers, she had someone there for company.
*****
Shadowheart was woken up by something falling heavily on her stomach. She jumped to sit up, only to find a slobbery red ball in her lap. In front of her, with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, stood a white shepherd, looking particularly pleased with himself.
”Scratch!” Shadowheart was beyond happy to see her favourite boy. ”You came to find me! Did you not want to stay with the others? Surely they would’ve looked after you,” she cooed, lavishing the dog with pets.
Scratch cocked his head to the side as if he was carefully considering Shadowheart’s words. Truthfully, she wasn’t all that sure that he could even understand a word she was saying. It didn’t matter much, though. His company was welcome.
Company… Shadowheart suddenly remembered her dream. There had been a woman there… Elody! That’s what her name had been.
Shadowheart packed her bedroll away and cleaned her camp as well as she could. Just in case any Sharrans decided to track her down, she didn’t want to leave any evidence of ever having been there. In the back of her mind, she knew it may have all been in vain. No matter how hard she tried to cover her tracks, any Sharran worth their salt would be able to see the subtle smudging of footprints or feel the faintest heat still lingering in the ashes. But she did it just the same.
As she cleaned, she thought about her dream. In the cool, clear light of the morning, her dreams usually evaporated into vague fragments of memories, quickly fading into nothing over the first few moments of the day. This one felt… different. It wasn’t evaporating. She still remembered every word Elody had said, every odd look she’d given Shadowheart. And the anxiety Elody’s questions had elicited in her. It was known that Sharrans were able to manipulate memories - and, if so, why not dreams? Elody could well be a Sharran assassin, trying to access her dreams to locate her whereabouts.
I’d better be careful, Shadowheart thought to herself as she swung her backpack over her shoulders. ”Come on, Scratch! Time for an adventure!”
Shadowheart and Scratch made their way west along the Chionthar. A part of Shadowheart had wanted to travel eastward instead, to trace back her and her friends’ steps, but there was a fear inside of her that she wasn’t ready to confront. Scratch didn’t seem to mind, either way; he jogged along, chasing after squirrels who dared to come too close. Shadowheart giggled at the dog’s antics as they walked along the river’s edge. The day was beautiful, only the slightest chill in the wind indicating the arrival of autumn drawing closer.
A lovely, elderly halfling couple, who had been on their routine afternoon walk when they had run into Shadowheart and Scratch, offered them a warm meal and a place to stay for the night. As they led the adventurers to their farm, Shadowheart got to know them a little. Their names were Vaula and Geoffran, and they’d occupied their little patch of land since it had been bequeathed onto them by Vaula’s aunt and uncle nearly a century ago. Shadowheart’s chest felt warm as she listened to them recounting their lives together, living off the land. They were sad to tell her that they didn’t have any children, but were perfectly content with all of their animals and each other for company. And although Shadowheart’s initial idea had been to go it alone without having to talk to anyone, she realized she welcomed the casual chat with the halflings.
The farmhouse was small and cozy - exactly the kind Shadowheart had sometimes dared to dream about. Scratch was particularly intrigued by the pair of goats in the paddock behind the cottage. The goats paid the curious creature no mind, and Scratch soon found a comfortable pile of hay in the barn to lay down in. Shadowheart, on the other hand, was given the little guest room to sleep in. Thankful for the comfortable bed and her belly full of Vaula’s delicious stew, she drifted to a peaceful sleep.
*****
Elody was already sitting on the grass by the time Shadowheart entered her dreamscape. The brunette lifted her gaze off the grass and smiled, but said nothing. Each passing moment, Shadowheart was growing more and more suspicious. The silence between them was hanging heavily in the atmosphere. Before long, Shadowheart couldn’t stand it anymore.
”Why are you just sitting there?” she asked, again, not finding any need to be polite.
Elody shrugged, but the smile never left her face. ”You said you didn’t want to talk. I’m not going to push you.”
She’s thinking about what I want. Shadowheart was almost startled by the thought. She couldn’t remember many instances in which someone had considered her wants and needs above others’. But could she trust this stranger to have her best interests at heart? Why would she be so kind.
”I don’t mind having a chat now,” Shadowheart said. ”I wasn’t feeling like talking last night, but now…”
”Good.” Elody’s smile widening into a grin. ”I wanted to know more about you.”
Shadowheart couldn’t help the warmth spreading in her chest, the same warmth she’d felt talking with Vaula and Geoffren. Surprisingly comfortable. But Shadowheart didn’t want to give too much away to this woman. She could still be a part of a Sharran plot.
”Why don’t you tell me something first?” Shadowheart suggested.
Elody cocked her head, considering what to say. ”I’m Elody of Helm’s Hold,” she finally told Shadowheart. ”A Collector of Stories, they call me. ’They’ being the people who know me. Which isn’t the largest of crowds, I must admit.”
Something about the way Elody spoke delighted Shadowheart. As she continued to talk, her turn of phrase and animated body language drew Shadowheart in in a way she hadn’t experienced before. The conversation about Elody’s adventures in search of stories was effortless and light. Nothing in Shadowheart’s life had felt like that in a long time.
”So, I believe it’s your turn now.” Elody shot Shadowheart a cheeky wink. ”Tell me something.”
Shadowheart didn’t think twice. ”I’m Shadowheart, as you already know. I like night orchids, and can’t swim,” she said, immediately surprised by her own candor.
”I’ve seen many a place and come across flowers aplenty,” Elody said, ”but I must admit ignorance when it comes to night orchids. If you ever get a chance, please show me some.”
Shadowheart was happy to agree, although in her mind she did wonder where she could ever both find night orchids and transport them into her dream to show Elody. It didn’t matter, though. It was a dream. It was unlikely that she’d ever have to worry about it.
The women talked for what seemed like hours. Shadowheart told Elody about how she was travelling in the countryside with a dog she’d befriended, making sure she kept her exact whereabouts a secret. Elody, in turn, shared stories about her travels. She’d seen Faerûn, far and wide. However, she wouldn’t disclose her current location either.
There was a lull in the conversation after the two women had shared a laugh about Elody’s run-in with a particularly playful owlbear cub.
”You’ll need to go soon, I believe,” Elody stated, catching her breath.
”What do you mean?” A twinge of hurt twisted Shadowheart’s stomach. Did Elody wish for her to go?
”I have this feeling that you’re needed where you’re from,” Elody explained. ”You can’t stay here for good, you know.”
*****
This time, Shadowheart woke up to commotion coming from downstairs. She sprang into action without a second thought, grabbing her moonlight glaive as she dashed down the creaky wooden steps. She’d yet to see anything out of the ordinary when a gruff male voice shouted:
”There she is! Get her!”