Content Warning: Graphic violence, dark magic, body horror, intrusive thoughts, dissociation, demons, and morally disturbing themes.
Shovel. A book made of face skin.

Everything is dark.

I cannot see, so I feel as best I can.

Cold cavern air, cut through by the warmth of sunlight beaming through a crack above.

Fingers weaving themselves into mine.

I grip the hand back and my eyes flit open. I breathe and look over at the face staring back at me.

"Bex." I wheeze.

We're laying on our backs, bewildered and coming to our senses.

I smile feebly. "Tell me I thrashed the wizard, and not just my dignity."

A moment passes, and I see a wily smirk spread across her face. With a snort, we both begin to laugh.

"Holy hells!" she gasps. "I didn't think we were going to make it!"

We settle, and I cough out a few more chuckles. "Unfortunately, we survived."

With a grunt, I sit up. My head is swimming from the blast.

She pulls a new healing potion from her pack, drinking half and handing the rest to me.

"What happened? That explosion? I don't think I can describe what I saw. You swung at the wizard and out of nowhere you were surrounded by this electric red haze, it was terrifying."

I down the potion quickly, feeling that painful breath of rejuvenation. I run my hand over my face. "I'm not sure. Everything went dark the moment my sword hit the foul wretch."

Another lapse. I try not to dwell on it; what's done is done. I glance over at her, trying to get my mind off it. "Was this your first battle?"

"With the undead, yes. I've helped my father with small ambushes when the Hellriders were able to assist, but nothing like this!" She finally gets to her feet. "A red wizard." She murmurs. "What in the hells was he doing in a place like this? As far as I can tell, this was just an ordinary village like any other, before it was abandoned. Hardly a lofty conquest for Szass Tam, and Thay is nowhere near here."

"No?" She offers me a hand and helps me to my feet. "Strange indeed, although everything about those damned wizards is strange. Whatever he was doing, I guess it's a story for the gods, now."

I look back at the pile of crumpled bones, half expecting them to reanimate. You can never be sure with magicians, especially ones who dabble in necromancy.

My nostrils flare, annoyed at the uncertainty of it all.

I hand Bex the scroll I pulled from the coffin. "I found something interesting, what do you make of it?"

She unravels it, thoughtfully scanning the parchment. "A summon?"

"That's what I thought, too. Do we have the stomach to try it?"

"Of course! I love summons, I have one of my own, you know? I just haven't called her in a while. Danis isn't too fond of her. He's always been more of a cat person."

I lean back, playfully aghast. "You're telling me your summon isn't a cat, like a normal person?"

She smirks and punches my arm. I exaggerate a flinch and grab at my grievous wound.

She shakes her head and hands the parchment back to me. She recites a few simple words and casts the spell to reveal a crab.

Bright orange, a decent size, and docile.

I look down at it, completely caught off guard. I break out into a fit of laughter.

She crosses her arms as she waits for me to have my fun. "Go ahead, mock me! It goes to show how much I can trust you to take me seriously."

"I swear..." I wheeze, trying to catch my breath. "I'm not trying to mock..." I slowly collect myself, but a few more laughs tumble out of me. I wipe away a tear. "Oh gods... what's its name?"

Bex stoops down and picks her up. "Tansy." She lightly drums her fingers on top of Tansy's chitinous body. The crab seems to like it.

I'm stifling a chuckle or two, then gingerly hold out my hand. "May I see her?"

Bex looks startled. "Really? You want to hold her?"

"Of course!" I pull back my hand. "Unless you don't think she'd like it."

"No, here!" She swiftly shoves the crab into my arms, grinning.

I take Tansy into my hands. A cold, sandwich-shaped creature, with flexible cartilaginous joints and a fascinating exoskeleton. The tension she uses to maneuver her limbs from within the ridged structure of her body is honestly fascinating. She has the faintest scent of ocean to her. Her eyes sit on opposable stalks on her head, easily snapped off.

She's so crushable; I bet the feeling of her body breaking in my hands would be wonderful. If I kept her alive, what would a vivisection reveal?

I snap out of it as soon as I realize what I'm doing. I refocus and look from Tansy to Bex, and I feel a smile tugging at my lips. I quickly hand Tansy back before my thoughts drift too far. "Fascinating, but why a crab?"

Bex gives a charming smile. "Living along the River Road, I spent a lot of time along the banks of the Chionthar, playing with kids from the other caravans. I begged one of the local boys to teach me how to summon. I picked Tansy because I wanted a little friend I could play in the water with."

She draws her finger over one of Tansy's cold orange legs. "I know she's just a crab, but she's a wonderful companion. She used to nestle in the bend of my knee when I cloud gaze. Follow me when I ran errands for my father. I'm grateful for her."

She clutches Tansy, her mind drifting. "I miss those days. We all do, don't we? Things are so much simpler when you're a child."

"Is it?" I have no memories of myself as a child. I don't even know how old I am. There's nothing I can give her in this moment. I'm suddenly feeling defeated, and she senses my dwindling resolve.

She puts a hand on my elbow. "Are you alright?"

I try to regain my composure. "Yes." I savor the warmth of her presence despite myself.

"I. Uhm." Her eyes are bright, infernal, watching me eagerly. "I don't have any memories of my past. Not many at least. I'm still piecing it all together."

"What? No memories? How? Did something happen?" She presses her hand into my arm.

"I don't know. The last thing I remember, I woke up in a strange place, and I knew very little about myself. I knew I was a tiefling, and I knew my name. I wonder if my memory loss was calculated. It all has seemed far too convenient."

She reaches up, but pulls back, clutching it to her chest. "How long has it been since you came back to yourself?"

The gravity of what's happened to me begins to sink in. I've been running on adrenaline since the Nautiloid, and now that I'm spelling it out, it seems irreconcilable. My voice grows quiet. "Two days."

She's taken aback. "Gods. Two days? How in the hells is that possible?"

I am at a loss for words and merely manage a subtle shake of my head.

"Do you think it might be tied to Elturel? Something that happened to you in the hells, maybe?"

"Elturel. I suspect I was not caught up in the Descent. I'm not from Elturel."

"You're... not a refugee?" She lets go of my arm and takes a slight step back. "Then... who the hells are you?"

I suddenly feel colder, seeing her pull away from me. I hate it. "Hopefully, someday I will know again." I sound sadder than I thought I was. "I am rebuilding myself, maybe into someone better. Maybe I was a real bastard in my past life." I nudge her playfully.

My little joke seems to have softened her, and she gives me a playful smirk. Her compassion warming her demeanor once again.

She stirs something within me.

I tap her on the nose with the quasit parchment, and she swats at me playfully. "Let's conjure a quasit."

My eyes track the parchment, and I tuck it under my arm. "I think I can do this." I manifest a quasit sigil from the Weave. I feel the numb fingers of the Abyss reach through the planes, grasping for pieces of me. With a flourish, the Abyss cracks open and out tumbles a quasit.

The profane monkey hops to her feet and immediately begins to scream.

"SURLY MASTER ILLY DIDN'T CALL SHOVEL FOR ANY MISCHIEF, LIKE THE OLD DAYS. HE JUST WANTS HER TO WIPE HIS ARSE AGAIN!? SHOVEL WANTS TO MUR—"

She gasps, startled, jumping back as she sees us. "Oh! You're not Illy..." She leans forward and begins to sniff me, "What's that? Why do you smell like that?"

She makes me uncomfortable. I like her. "What do you mean? Smell like what?" I discreetly open my cloak and sniff.

Bex wrinkles her nose. "You do have an odor coming from your cloak. I didn't want to say anything."

"Do I?" I check myself again and can't seem to get a handle on any strange smells.

The quasit shakes her head. "Death meat smell, yes, but you smell like storms, and pain! Thunder! Lightning! You're one of those mad sorcerers!"

She gags and waves her claws in front of her face, shaking her head. "Don't like it!!!"

I look over at Bex and she points at me declaratively. "That explains your sensitivity to the Weave!" She sighs, almost relieved. "Thank the gods, I thought I was the broken one. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I..." My gaze shifts from her back to Shovel. "I didn't know."

Bex clutches my sleeve. "Lathander's light, so this was lost to you!"

"Another piece of myself..." I look at my hands and get a rush of exhilaration. I have command of the Weave. What else might I be capable of?

Shovel hops next to me, tugging on my cloak. "Enough jibber jabber! Master should try magic!" She swiftly looks around and scurries behind a crate. Bex sets Tansy down, and she joins the abomination in hiding. They watch me, curious despite the caution. "Shovel is ready." She croaks.

I look to Bex for reassurance. "Should I try it? This cavern is kind of small."

She laughs. "Do you remember any spells or cantrips? I don't know how it all works."

"Cantrips. Right." I get vague images of thundering blades, bursting corpses, and... I hold up my hand and focus on the Weave. Although I am attuned to it, my grasp on my abilities is frail right now. Slowly, red arcs of electricity climb up my arm, running up my wrist and over my fingers like ribbons. I look at Bex with a mischievous grin. "Hey, come here. Let's see if it's working."

Her eyes go wide, and she dodges me as I playfully grab at her. "No!" She laughs and I begin to chase her around the cavern, pretending to try to grab her. "S-Stop!!!" She finally turns and pushes me, and I can't help but laugh with her.

I look over at Shovel who is still staring. "Hey Shovel, come here." She releases a jagged squeal. "NO PAIN!!!" Ducking behind the crate.

Her fear seemed a bit too real, so I quickly release the arcs. "I'm kidding Shovel, you can come out. The magic is gone."

Tansy tiptoes out and makes her way back to Bex. Shovel refuses to come out. "NO. No want tricks!"

"Shovel." I carefully walk over to her, glancing behind the crate, hands out. "It's okay, I swear. Let's get out of this cave and get some fresh air."

She eyes me a moment, seeing that I'm disarmed. "Oh. OH! Master is good! Kind!"

She climbs up the crates, getting closer to eye level with me. "Master is missing secrets! Many secrets! Secrets Shovel knows." She's laughing, breathy and stuttering. "I will tell you all Illy's secrets." She says it with nefarious glee.

"The mirror, there." She points her claw at a mirror laying flush against a wall. "There is a special prize inside, just tell the mirror Balsam is good for wounds!"

"Huh." As I approach it I feel the faintest hint of Weave.

I stare into the mirror and only see myself. A face I plainly recognize. But Gods, I look like hell. I don't think I'm supposed to look this exhausted. Who knows how long I was in limbo before coming too. Bhaal only knows.

The scar struck across my face is a clean slash over my right eye. The eye itself has lost its infernal glow. Was it the tadpole that damaged my face? The others don't share the same kind of devastation. I don't like my dimmed eye, and try to blink and shake my head, as if that would make the glow return.

I feel a hand on my back. "Vash." Her voice is soft and compassionate.

I look down at Bex, having gotten lost in my own thoughts. "I'm sorry. This is my first time seeing my face. It's a lot to take in."

Her brow furrows and she rubs my back. Her comfort is more than welcome right now. I honestly didn't know I needed it.

Suddenly we see a blue light slowly fading into a haunting visage in the mirror, it appears with a quiet sucking feeling as it gathers strength to manifest.

The thing finally speaks, the voice is languid and echoes with an un-harmonic tone. "Speak your name."

A thinking lock, nothing too dangerous. "Vash Neel."

"I do not know this name, are you an ally of Ilyn Toth?"

"...yes..." That must be the name of Master Ily.

"What do you think of the Zulkir, Szass Tam?"

My hair stands on end, "One of the red wizards of Thay, he is a foul lich." The name makes me wary, but I also get a vague pang of envy.

"You are no Zulkir. Tell me, how would one use Balsam Ointment?"

"For cleaning wounds." Standard medical knowledge.

"Correct, if you could see anything in me, what would it be?"

A vague question. Who the hells knows what it wants to hear. I grow impatient and my eyes sharpen. "A smashed mirror, so I can be done with these incessant fucking questions."

The mirror pauses, staring at me, then opens without another word.

We seem to have stumbled upon a hidden laboratory. Beakers, bottles, books, papers strewn about.

Bex breaks away, looking around, Tansy in tow. The soft tapping of her crab legs echo in the silent chamber. The air is stagnant and musty. Bones hang articulated, as anatomical specimens. Above us dangles the structure of some large aquatic creature I can't recognize.

A makeshift operating table stands abandoned in the center of the room. A set of bones lay flat. Its autopsy... of vivisection, seemed to have been interrupted. I run my fingers across the exposed ribs, before noticing a book. I flip it open and begin to read.

Worse to follow. Worse to follow death? The thought of killing someone more than once sends a rush of pleasure through me, despite myself.

I glance over at Shovel who is teasing Tansy. The crab manages to clamp down on Shovel's claw in reciprocity. Shovel tries to pull away but only manages to drag Tansy along the ground, helplessly.

Shovel is a grave robber. Noted.

...her. A helpless romantic or a doting son. Both notions are unsettling, to be so obsessed with someone.

I glance at Shovel once more. She has her foot on Tansy's face, trying to pull her claw free.

"Stop messing about, you two." Tansy lets go and Shovel falls over but quickly hops back to her feet. "Shovel, what is this 'tome' Master Illy spoke of in his notes?"

Shovel's eyes go wide, "The book!" Her tone quickly shifts to dread. "Oh, the book. Fears. Many fears! Screams! Answers once a day, three dark forbidden questions. It's over there!" She eagerly points to a cell at the end of the room.

Bex walks up to me and shakes her head. "No. Everything about this is screaming don't do it. We're not messing with that."

I give her a teasing smile before walking over and peering inside.

A grotesque thing. A face is fashioned on the cover; the damned thing was bound in the tanned skin of some poor soul's head. This book. In a cellar. Deep beneath an abandoned village. Through a secret tunnel. Behind a magic lock. Placed inside of a jail cell.

I need it.

I grab the bars of the door and jiggle them. Locked, of course, and not nearly rusty enough to break. "Shovel, do you know how to get this open?"

She claps excitedly. "YES! Oh, hopefully it's still there." She runs across to the other side of the lab, opening a hidden door. Inside is a small storage room, and on one of the shelves is a rusted key. She swiftly ferries it back to me. "Here! Here!"

Bex looks exasperated and takes a step back from whatever chaos I'm about to sow.

The key slides in neatly and I hear a satisfying click. The door swings open. Shovel runs in and throws her arms in front of me. "WAIT!"

I stop abruptly. "What?"

"They don't want you to have it." She points to either side of the cell. There are large gargoyle statues with open hollow mouths. Boobytraps. I look around and then see it; the book is sitting on a pressure plate.

I swiftly grab Shovel, and before she has time to complain I plop her down on the pressure plate while snatching up the book.

I brush my hand across the face on the cover. Something stirs. It thrums with a dark yearning. It wants to be opened. The power within feels necrotic and ancient. But it's not gentle, it's a power that screams with jagged madness.

I step out of the cell, glancing at Bex, but suddenly hear Shovel calling for me.

"Wait, Master! Shovel wants to come with you!" Her arms outstretched, grasping toward me like a frightened child.

"Do you?"

Shovel nods with a pouting lip.

"There's nothing stopping you. Hop down."

She looks at both gargoyles and then looks down. She resigns her self to the leap and hops off, engulfed in flames and vanishes before she touches ground.

Bex looks at me, stunned. "That was cruel! I can't believe you would do that to her. She only just came back to the material plane from wherever the hells she came from."

"She's a fiend from the Abyss. She'll be fine. I'll call her back when we have use for her again." I show her the book, I'm suddenly captivated by its amethyst eyes. It feels like it's staring back at me with as much anticipation. "Locked tight."

She shakes her head. "That thing can't be worth the trouble. Vash, it has a skin face for a cover."

A practical concern. "As a Paladin it's my duty to deal with such blights. I should hang onto it and not leave it sitting out like it is."

"Sitting out." Her tail swishes uncomfortably. "Do as you wish, just don't involve me."

"I won't." I finally remove my gaze and tuck it into my cloak.

Healing potions. Antidotes. Loose herbs. And forbidden knowledge.

I'd say we're ready to go.