The crooning of morning birds awakens me. The creatures of this land are reliable, and I welcome the intervention so that I may not miss a moment of day when training is required of me.

The camp is still dark; the others are surely asleep. I glance up at the Tears of Selûne. Shining and splendid. Somewhere lost in the cluster of boundless space is my creche, K'liir.

I mustn't dwell. My routine is strict. Al'chaia's instruction taught me that there is no use in training if the body breaks before the battle.

So let us begin.

I bend my leg back, gripping my foot in my hand and stretching my leg muscles taut. I shift to the other leg and then begin to twist my back. My muscles begin to awaken, but something in the river catches my eye.

Vash.

He is awake, washing his clothes and bathing diligently. His shoulders flex as he scrubs a stubborn stain in the lap of his breeches.

I feel my hair stand on end. What is he doing up at this hour?

My eyes linger on him. He has been a suitable companion, though his lack of urgency toward finding a creche is most vexing.

I can see the scars that cover him. He’s earned each victory, and the authority he demonstrated at the goblin camp was impressive. Though his restraint with the Nightwarden was disconcerting. Still...

A heat assaults my cheeks, and I swiftly turn my back to him. I must remain focused.

"Good morning, Lae'zel. Getting an early start?" His voice is serene, and arcs over me like flame on a comet.

I glance back at him. "I'm surprised to see you awake, Istik. Your kind typically does not rise before the sun."

He is donning his freshly cleaned breaches and approaches me, still drying his hair. "There are things I need to tend to before the others rise. And you? I could say the same."

I turn to face him and roll my shoulders back. "I trained to rise and ready myself at the soonest hour in the day. My body is a tool that must be kept as honed as my blade."

He looks approving, though I hardly need his approval. "An admirable regimen." He tosses the towel on a nearby stone. "I wanted to ask you about the Zaith'isk."

I feel a rush of excitement and hold my breath for the briefest moment before the words spill out without discipline. "It is our only hope for a cure! Surely that should be enough for you, we should have gone to find my people the moment Zorru took pen to map."

He looks down at me with a subtle shake of his head. "You keep saying that, but I don't know anything about it. What is it? How does it extract the tadpole? For all I know, it splits our heads open. Given our luck, that's the least I could expect."

I fold my arms and my brows pinch in frustration. This feckless skepticism will be our ruin. "It is a psionic device that probes our minds for the worm and extracts it. The extraction itself is painful, but for those who endure, they are cured."

"What happened the last time you saw one work?"

"I... I have never witnessed the process, but if we find a creche we can see it for ourselves."

The focus in Vash's eyes drains away in an instant. "I see."

I feel myself bristling. "My Queen would never lead me astray. I can guarantee this is the cure." I feel a strain in my throat as I try to get the words out.

He is quiet for longer than I am comfortable with. "Tell me about Queen Vlaakith."

The correct question. I can finally show him the light. "The Undying Queen freed us from ghaik slavery and ended The Grand Design. They intended to infect all the planes with these parasites." I gesture toward my eye, "They wanted to build an army of thralls. One that would rival no other. It is because of her that you are not a slave now.

The Zaith'isk isn't just a tool for extraction, it is a divine gift. She forged within us the will to fight against our oppressors, in return we have sworn our swords to her, and fight in her name."

I feel my pride swell as I speak of my Queen, but as I watch Vash, a wry smile grows on his face.

He is not listening. Worse, he is mocking me! He is a master of ceremonies among this pathetic circus! "Shka'keth! You are a fool not to see the answer right in front of your eyes! This is the only way!"

"Lae'zel." His tone is as even as his eyes. "Give us time. I promise we will go, but I'm not going to drop everything and chase after a cure you can't explain beyond your faith that it works."

"Faith?" The word drops from my mouth like a stone. Something within me falls with it. I look up at him and take a step back.

This moment... is not what I had trained myself for. Any creature that dares challenge my devotion to Queen Vlaakith is to be brought low by my sword. But a sinking feeling settles deep within me.

I cannot strike him down.

The air feels heavy and I begin to feel trapped. I swiftly return to my tent and sit. I hear a slight commotion and glance out to see a grizzled pigeon fumbling at Vash's feet. He stoops down to pick the creature up, and I sit back in my tent and close my eyes. Trying to settle my thoughts.

The camp grows quiet once again. I do not know how long I've been sitting, but I must not let his foolishness interfere with my duties. With difficulty, I step back out into the night. I scan the camp, and Vash is gone. The others have yet to awaken. I feel a brief levity and begin again with my morning stretches.

The sky quickly grows light with the golden hues of morning. Sparring has worked to settle my mind, and I have worked up an appetite. Prepared for the day, I make the rounds.

Gale's eyes flit open before I've had a chance to call to him. "Istik. It's time to rise. We shouldn't sleep away the entire morning."

He rubs his eyes, and murmurs with a playful tone. "Can't we? What's the hurry? Aside from our shared existential doom."

I snort. The human has a good wit about him. He abides by my command and slowly gets to his feet, stretching his back improperly. I must teach him if we are to travel together.

Astarion is next, but he is stubborn. He groans and turns his back on me. An annoyed hand swats at me as if I were some common pest.

Insufferable. I rise and look at Shadowheart's tent. I take a deep breath and approach her last. "Up now. We must prepare for the day." I cross my arms. Eyes sharp. I expect this one to be just as stubborn. They all need a firm hand.

She rises. With a deep yawn and stiff stretch, she groans. "If you're expecting me to march into a gith infested hellhole, you're quite mistaken..."

I bite my tongue and choose to walk away. I am not interested in indulging any more arguments this morning. I crouch next to the fire pit and begin to stack wood for the breakfast fire.

Gale glances around the camp, and a notable quiet is cast over the camp.

"Where's Alfira?"

The bard. I had forgotten about her. I went to bed shortly after Vash. "Keen observation, I did not see her in camp this morning."

Astarion emerges from his tent, still dressed in his leisure clothes. He is combing his hair into place, skillfully. "I'm sure she'll turn up. Who knows what strange morning habits she has." He suddenly stops. His eyes drop to his foot and he goes very still. When he looks back up his expression has settled into something controlled and pleasant. "Where is Vash?" he says through his teeth.

"He left before the sun rose. But to where, I do not know."

"Ah." He slowly and absent mindedly continues to comb his hair. He grows unusually quiet.

Gale gathers rations from the camp chest. "It looks like her things are still here. She can't be far." He proceeds to gather sausage, potatoes, and several eggs. "I'll make her a plate for when she gets back."

"No." Astarion says, too quickly, eyeing the sausage. "No, best not to waste rations for now. She may not be hungry when she returns." His lips curl briefly. "If she is, then we have apples, don't we?" He drags his foot across the dirt, as if to brush the sole of his shoe clean.

Gale watches him with pause. "O-kay..." He finishes gathering what he needs and crouches next to me at the fire pit. With a spark of the Weave, he starts the kindling. He gives me a pleasant smile and begins to arrange the cooking. Sausage in pan. Potatoes tucked away near the developing embers for baking.

"You are most adept at cooking. Where did you learn?" I ask, adjusting a log for him.

"Just a hobby I picked up in Waterdeep. I had a lot of free time and decided it was one of the better ways to use it. Cooking and fencing occupied a lot of my time for a while."

"Fencing? Seems strange for a wizard."

He gives a nervous laugh and turns the sausage as it snaps and sizzles in the pan. "I needed a break from spells for a... spell." He stammers.

Shadowheart approaches, carrying a small stool, outfitted in her mail. She glances around the camp, setting the stool down. "So, what are our plans for today? Halsin gave us nothing but more chores. I suppose the creche is our next best lead, despite my reservations."

My eyes snap to hers. "Yes. This must be our next objective." I quickly retrieve the map from my tent. Gale had passed it to me once we arrived at the campsite. I unfold it in front of Shadowheart. "The pathway is hindered at the bridge. We will need to find a way across. Perhaps we can build a structure that can allow us to pass."

"Shouldn't we wait for Vash to come back so we can all discuss this together?" Gale begins to plate the food, passing the first to me. I fold the map and take the plate, sitting cross legged near the flames.

"Perhaps." Shadowheart takes her portion. "We are moving as a unit, it's only fair."

Astarion refuses the food. "No thank you. I already had breakfast."

"Already had..." Gale decides not to engage him further on the matter, taking the plate for himself.

After a few silent bites, his chewing slows and his face falls. "Is it me or does Vash feel-" He prods another sausage on his plate. "-off? For lack of a better word." His brow creases, calculating the idea.

"I'm not trying to gossip, but despite his generosity there seems to be an air of volatility about him." He presses his fork into the side of the sausage. It gives a satisfying pop. "It sets my teeth on edge."

I stare into the flames, considering his words as I eat. "I've felt it too. It is inexplicable."

Shadowheart crosses her legs, quickly swallowing her bite of potato. "Your wits are sharper than you realize, Gale. His behavior at the goblin camp was certainly enlightening."

Astarion looks tight in the lip as he observes Shadowheart.

"He would cull the grove if it would lead us to a cure. He spoke of the prospect without hesitation."

He pauses, words failing him. "Gosh... I never imagined that." He glances at us before speaking carefully. "Should a man like that be leading us?"

"No." I say, firmly. "His recklessness will be our ruin."

Astarion points his comb at us. "And what do you suggest? That we mutiny? He head butted me the very moment we met! Completely unwarranted, might I add. Then he tried to strangle me, again, unwarranted. Despite what he may seem like on the surface, underneath he's unhinged and violent."

Astarion falters. His eyes become vacant. "I know men like him. They don't give up control easily. We may not have a choice." He falls quiet for a breath. "If we can keep him happy until Baldur's Gate, we can go our separate ways. That's the safest option."

Shadowheart finishes her plate. "We may be blowing this out of proportion. Leadership requires the strength to make difficult decisions. The odds that culling the grove becomes a viable option for our survival is slim. He has my respect for even entertaining the idea."

I feel my discipline slip and I bark sharply. "Tsk'va! How can you respect a man who's done nothing but indulge in his own distractions? You should be grateful that I am leading us to the solution. I should have been leading us from the very beginning."

Astarion laughs at me with condescension, waving his comb in the air like some pompous conductor. "You sound so certain about this creche. I still don't see why they'd be willing to help us all. Githyanki aren't exactly welcoming to outsiders."

My face tightens. "My objective is clear, and as long as you have me by your side, we will all be cured. I guarantee it."

"The prospect of this Zaith'isk is fascinating. Truth be told, I don't know as much about Githyanki culture as I would like. I was hoping to ask you more about it when we got a chance."

Finally, an intelligent creature. A reprieve from the obstinance of the others. "It is wise of you to want to know. I am willing to answer any questions you have."

He seems satisfied, anticipating the opportunity. Suddenly, he becomes alert, looking toward the path.

I feel it too.

Static fills the air. It sets my teeth on edge.

"He's coming." Gale murmurs.

We turn to see Vash round the bend. He's followed closely by a blonde tiefling woman. She's smiling and grabbing his arm, a backpack slung over her shoulder. Everyone can hear them talking before she pushes him with laughter.

I stiffen.

As he approaches his face falters. "What's going on?"