Chpt 18. Bitter Truths
TRIGGER WARNING: Bald-face lies, Murder, Emotional Manipulation, Self-Righteous Monologuing.
I massage my temples, trying to calm my head as I walk. My thoughts having grown wild in the silence. Maybe festering in my mind isn't a good idea right now. I round the bend and see the ivy-covered gate through a haze of trail dust. Tiefling guards line the parapets as usual. Barely armed. All of them green. As I come into view, I see a tail disappear down the path toward the Hollow. I am welcomed with the rumbling of the gate as it opens for me, seeing Zevlor waiting just inside. He beckons me to join him with a nod of his head. We walk up to the parapets, and he leans on the fencing.
Eyes squinting, he scans the horizon, tail swaying thoughtfully. "She's quite a mess, you know."
A scoff escapes me. I’m not interested in entertaining Zevlor right now, I just want to speak to her. "She was a mess when she bolted."
His eyes snap to mine. "Your callousness isn't going to win you any friends, Vash." He sighs, labored, as if chastising me was a burden. "I tried to talk her down, but you gave her quite the fright. Mutilating goblins. Making them fall to madness with some mysterious power. A True Soul, branded with the Symbol of the Absolute. Hammer after hammer for a woman who was baking cookies for a living only a few months ago."
I look at him stunned. "What do you mean?"
"She and Danis had a bakery in Elturel before Zariel claimed the city. They were quite popular. When the city was restored and they returned as tieflings, they lost the last pieces of themselves. No one wants to buy haunted cookies from hellspawn. The assumption was that they sold their soul to Zariel for fiendish powers. Or deserved their change as some divine punishment. Either way, they were outcast like all the rest." Zevlor pauses, a deep pity reflected in his face. "You can see why she might be skittish. There's a hurt that runs deep and scars every tiefling here."
I press my fingers against my forehead before raking back my hair. "That's not what she told me... is she even a ranger?"
He is defensive of her and reassures me quickly. "She was a half-elf before she turned. Danis was a high elf from a well-off family. Bex honed her skills while traveling with her father. He owned a merchant's caravan on the River Road. That's where I first met her."
At least that part is true. "You were one of the hellriders that patrolled the River Road."
He nods, "She was effective at small skirmishes, but ambushes were another matter. I helped on the rare occasions it happened, but our mere presence was enough to keep the road safe."
The prospect drags a thoughtful grunt from me. "I'm stunned. She lied to me about who she was. She made it seem like she had been helping her father up until the city was taken. Had I known, I would have approached things much differently."
With clarity he drives home the point. "That's exactly why she hid the truth."
"I see." I think back on all she's told me. "Did Bex and Danis marry while in Avernus?"
His brow furrows, confused as to why I would be asking. "Nnno... they married long before the fall."
"I see." She is a maestro conducting a symphony of schemes around me. Willing to lie to get what she wants. This is going to be an interesting dance.
"Since joining this caravan, she's gotten it in her head that she can relive those days on the River Road, but this isn't a merchant's trail. We're in the midst of a war, I'm not blind to it, and I've seen what war does to people. If I recruit her, it will dismantle her dreams of a peaceful life with Danis. She'd never be able to get what she's seen, what she's done, out of her head. I didn't want to be responsible for that. Killing hardens people. It changes them. Surely you felt it when you first killed."
A question more complicated than he could ever know. "So, you made that decision for her. To preserve her. Was that in her best interest or for your own indulgence in her purity?"
Zevlor pauses. Like a deer who's spotted a hunter. "I-I didn't mean it that way." His tail flicks with embarrassment. There is an idea of her that he cherishes and wants to protect.
I'm no better, chasing my fantasy of her, but she begged for me. She wants me. "Zevlor. I understand you have her best intentions in mind, but there comes a point were preservation tips into suffocation."
His lips press thin, sobering to the weight of it.
"I explained to her the perils of what we do, and she pleaded to join me all the same." I lean forward, resting my elbows on the fencing next to him. "Although, I was so focused on the monsters in the wilderness, I forgot that I am no better than they are." My tone dips, leery of my own confessions. "I am sick, Zevlor. There are moments when I feel the thrum of duty squeezing my mind like a vice, and I forget myself."
He puts a hand on my shoulder, gripping tightly. "That is the burden of a Paladin's oath. It's the sacrifice we make so that we may shoulder the weight of the world's fears." He is quiet for a moment, reflecting on his own duties. "I've spoken with Apikusis. You have a lot of fingers in a lot of pies right now. I'll take care of as much as I can from my end, but do me a favor..." He gives my shoulder a short, reassuring shake. "Tone down the menace, Paladin."
His smile is self-assuring. "Thank you, Zevlor. Let me try to speak to her."
"You can try; I'd be shocked if you can make any headway with her. I fear her faith in you is well and truly broken." He turns to leave but looks back at me, a hint of unease in his voice. "Good luck, brother."
I give him a gracious nod, but my face falls as I watch him go. I gather my thoughts, and a bit of my nerves, before heading down to the Hollow myself.
...was I ever anything but a tiefling?
To the right of the parapets a group of the tiefling guards lounge around a smoldering campfire. There is a slight tension among them as I pass. I feel their eyes on me.
Finally, one of them stands and catches up to me. It's a man with dishwater blonde hair. "Ser! We saw Bex run through here like a whirlwind. What happened out there?"
The corner of my mouth twitches with agitation as I muster a 'calm' smile. "Quite the gossip, aren't you?"
He is taken aback by my directness. Embarrassed, but unrelenting. "No need to be rude. If something's going on, we ought to know. This isn't just about our safety, but our children's as well."
Several more of the tiefling guards have gathered and I begin to feel surrounded. "Please. There's nothing going on here that concerns any of you. It's a personal matter."
A woman with a red bob scoffs with indignation. "Personal? None of this seems personal to me. Tell us what's going on! What's this about you belonging to a cult?"
Snaps of electricity tap at the back of my brain as I get grilled. Sniveling swine.
Another guard chimes in. "Several people have gone missing, and they say you were the last to see them!" I look to see its Arka, the woman who threatened Sazza with a crossbow.
More voices rise. "Where's Alfira?"
"What about the druids, Nettie and Findal? The druid merchant, Arron, has been asking us about them!"
My head is on a swivel as I try to track the faces of the people chastising me, but it's in vain. My hand begins twitching and I swiftly tuck it away, but my tail continues to betray me. "Am I staring down my own lynch mob? I offer help, and you repay me by turning me into a scapegoat for easy answers."
Arka's resentment towards me has not subsided since our last meeting. "We deserve answers, easy or no!"
"Answers." My voice strikes like a hammer. My impatience unbridled, I spit back at them. "Alfira joined my camp a few nights ago. When we awoke the next day, she was gone. Full stop."
A few of the guards look at each other, and I hear one muttering to a woman with a long purple ponytail. "It's okay, Lakrissa, she may still turn up." They clasp hands in futile hope. Lakrissa, a familiar name but I'm not sure why.
I stare down the rest. "Nettie and Findal were killed in a goblin ambush. It was only by their sacrifice that I was able to save you from the horde, again."
My nose curls and I raise my hand, hoping it remains steady. I show the emblazoned symbol of the Absolute. "I have made difficult decisions for the sake of your safety. The cult trusts me, and do you know what that trust has yielded?" I wait for the faces standing around me to fall silent. "I've found Halsin. Alive. He's waiting for my word to take down the goblin leaders. Soon, you will be free from the goblin threat, but you need to remain faithful." I drop my arm. "I cannot offer salvation if you hang me from the gate."
I hear a faint murmur rise among them, some smartly choosing faith. The smoke from the campfire drifts past us as I wait for someone to speak. "Is that all?" The command in my voice does not yield, even as they come down from their fervor. No one steps forward, and a few of the faces seem pitiful for having confronted me. I take a breath. "If you need anything else, take it up with Zevlor. If I may, I have urgent matters I need to attend to." Feeling the clutches of their eyes release me. I turn on my heel to continue down the path, but after only a few paces, I feel a hand grip my arm. A pang of anger rushes through me, materializing in a shock of static weave surging through my aura. I hear a sharp inhale, "OW!" The hand swiftly lets go and I turn to see Arka holding her hand. She hesitates, looking up at me with a vague fear. "Vash... I'm..." She flexes her fingers as the pain subsides. "I'm sorry for startling you. I just wanted to talk." Her voice is reserved as she gives me a gentle plea. "Could you... walk with me for a moment?" She shakes off her hand, relinquished from the pain.
There is nothing I want to do less. I grit my teeth, but smile. "Of course."
"I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier." She begins to walk, and I follow, hanging my head. "I didn't realize you had been doing so much for us. I was so blinded by grief and stuck in my own head."
She leads me down a narrow path to the far edge of the rocky outcropping of the gate. We come to a string of graves, topped with loose stones. Private and peaceful. A few old trees, knobbed but sturdy, hang over us offering a merciful shade. She stops in front of one grave, freshly dug. Kanon, her brother. She stands over him with her hands folded in front of her. She's quiet for a moment and I stand behind her, a shroud of false solace. I place my hands on her shoulders. "My brother wo-" A wet pop beneath my fingers as her neck breaks and she collapses into my arms. I audibly sigh and a pleasurable shudder ripples through me.
Mercy can feel cruel at times, but Arka had been begging for mercy since the moment we met. A wounded animal that's put the whole caravan in danger. I kick the pile of loose stones off Kanon's corpse, his smell hits me like a wall of memories. His body riddled with holes from goblin arrows, arms outstretched from having gripped the gate's wheel as he died. I tuck Arka next to him, united once again. My heart flutters. I cover them with stones before carrying on, blessedly free from interruptions and feeling much calmer for her.
I finally see her. She's gotten out of her gear and is sitting on her bed roll, eating, drinking, silent. She seems to be lost in thought. She finally sees me coming and stops eating. Her eyes lock onto me, she doesn't move. Danis sees me too and walks over to her. They share a brief word before turning their attention back to me. I stop below them, looking up, humble. "Bex, there must have been some sort of misunderstanding. May I come up and speak with you?"
"I've barely had enough time to process what I just witnessed. I thought you were an honorable man, but I was wrong. Your callousness with Shovel, shit, the callousness with Gandrel. It seems your solution to any inconvenience is to slaughter. By the gods, your maimed that goblin! It was merciless and brutal. That isn't how I'd expect a paladin to behave. It was vile, Vash."
The words hit me like a hammer to my chest. "Sometimes in war—"
"What in the hells did you do to those goblins? How did you make them fall?" The look of disgust on her face sends a chill down my spine. "Would you do that to me...?" She shakes her head, and I hear her tail give a single thud against the floorboards. "You're a True Soul, I can't imagine what you could say to redeem yourself."
I'm searching for an in, and at that my ears perk up. My voice is firm; I don't want to be ignored. "I have answers, but it's complicated. Very complicated. If you're willing to listen then come to my camp, when you're ready, and I will explain everything. Please." The 'please' makes my heart quiver. It feels raw.
Danis breathes in sharply, "No. She's not giving you any more of her time!" He whips around only to be met with her eyes, flat at his assertion. He begins pleading, voice steady and certain. "You've seen the truth, Bex, you cannot trust this man!" His desperation seeps into his words pathetically.
Bex bristles but answers patiently. "I understand you're trying to protect me, Danis, but it's not your decision to make." She turns back to me, like she's juggling obstinate toddlers. "I'm not in the headspace to entertain your invitation. Just—" I can see the gears turning in her head for the briefest moment. "Just leave me alone, Vash." She turns and sits with her back to both of us with another fervent thud of her tail. The drum beat of finality.
Danis watches her with a mild dread on his face. I look at him for a moment. I know he feels it, refusing to meet my gaze. I finally turn and head back to camp. What's done is done, I am at her mercy now.
As we sit around the campfire, Astarion looks over my shoulder, his cool red eyes meet mine, and they seem troubled. "Your little fan club is here."
I turn to see Bex and Danis walking down the path, their fingers locked together, Danis looking melancholy as always. I quickly stand, meeting them at the head of the trail. "I'm glad, if not surprised you decided to come."
Bex glances at me. "Thank you for giving me space to collect myself, I'm ready to hear you out."
"Of course, but..." I glance at Da—Butcher—My hand twitches. "May I speak with you, privately? There's something I'd like to show you. It will make everything I want to explain a lot clearer."
A surge of offense rises in Danis, and he clings to her. "There's nothing you need to say to her that you can't say to both of us."
I look down at him, flatly. It feels like I'm looking through an echo of a man Bex conjured for comfort.
Bex snaps at me. "Vash!" I'm at her attention once again. She sighs. "You're asking to speak to me alone without having offered any reason why I should trust you. You can understand my hesitation." She's speaking in a tone like it should have been obvious.
I'm pushing her around as if she would blindly follow, like so many do. Things can't always be that easy. "You're right. I do understand your hesitation." My mind wanders back to yesterday, feeling like I took that time for granted. "It's strange, really. We were laughing together just this morning. How quickly things can change in a single moment. With a simple lapse."
She's watching me, waiting for the point. I hold out my hand, in a placating gesture. "In our travels together, is there a single moment you can point to when I acted against you?"
Her nostrils flare. She knows I'm right, but she lets the silence linger before putting a hand on Danis's chest. "Give us time. This shouldn't take long, right Vash?" Her eyes are stern, like she's chastising a bad dog. It's not far from the truth.
I hold my hands up, defensively. "A moment is all I need."
She breathes in through her nose, half believing me. She wants to believe me.
I finally address Danis, putting all my effort into being neutral, but the corner of my lip twitches. "You're welcome to join the others, we'll be back before long."
He does not look happy. "How far is this place?"
I snap at him. "I'm sorry, are you her father?" My voice hisses between my teeth.
Bex puts her hands on me. "It was just a question. Relax!" Her voice cracks slightly.
I quickly look down at her and back to him. I take a moment to release the tension coiled in my shoulders. "Down the riverbank. Less than a kilometer away."
She shakes her head, "A moment, huh?" She sighs, exasperated at my white lie. "You're so fucking insufferable." I see a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
Danis nods but is looking at his wife like it's the last time he'll ever see her. He steps into her and gives her a gentle kiss on the cheek before walking over to the campfire with my company.
I watch him leave before beginning to walk. She follows. I lead her down the banks of the Chionthar, it's hushed flow, an anchor of calm. This is my only chance to set things right.
She's quiet for a moment before speaking, though her eyes remain fixated on the path. "I was scared at first, but now I'm just angry. I let my guard down around you, trusted you completely. Looking back now, it seems obvious." A brisk breeze passes through us, taking all our comfort with it. "The way your company looks at you when you're near tells me you're not a stranger to violent outbursts. I'm being foolish in wanting there to be a reasonable explanation, or foolish for assuming you'd give me a straight answer." She gives me a fleeting glance. "Even joining you now, alone, is foolish, but I don't want to believe this is who you are."
"I understand. It must have felt like a betrayal, and it pains me to think how badly I frightened you." As we walk, the sand shifts beneath my feet. My legs still burn from having carried Alfira's body down this very shore. Drown her. DROWN HER. Would she float? Would the water saturating her lungs make her sink like a rock? Yes. We know this. We've done it before. "What I did to subdue the goblins was excessive, even if they were just goblins."
She snorts, "Excessive."
I glance down at her, "And acting with the authority of a True Soul was jarring without prior discussion. I wasn't trying to keep it from you; it just never dawned on me that it would be relevant." My tail is flicking; I'm trying to remain gentle and honest. The walk is soothing and helps straighten my thoughts. "I respect that you've lost faith in me, but I still value you as a member of my company. I trust you."
She grins playfully, comforted by my words. "Of course you do. I’m not the one playing games, Vash."
My lips straighten as I register the lie, and I become edged with frustration. "Why in hells' name did you confront those goblins alone? Was the gnome worth risking your life over? You forced me into a position where I either had to watch you die, or intervene, potentially getting us both killed." The path begins to fill with the faint scent of burning chitin.
She looks at me, the heat of embarrassment flushing across her nose and cheeks. "I-I wasn't thinking. I thought it was the right thing to do. He needed help. They were torturing that poor man. The strong have a duty to protect the weak."
"The strong have a duty to protect the weak?" I say the words back to her. "You're clinging to a spoon-fed fairy tale of do-goodery. These are the kind of reckless notions that get good fighters like you killed. They're based on some ambiguous moral code that can be bent to the will of any cause." There is power behind my voice, and Bex's eyes grow wide. I take a moment to breathe before I frighten her again. I start again, softer. "One man's righteous path is another man's desolation—as if righteousness were merely a scale for moral equity. If that's so, who has the right to decide who is more deserving of salvation? ...You?"
She flinches, and I sense a barbed caution rise within her. "When you decided to travel with me, your head was filled with fantasies. Bex: Goblin Slayer and Savior of the Grove." I look down at her and speak softly. "Bex: The Hero." She's hanging on my words; her brow furrowed with concentration. "Instead, what you found was far more complicated. An apothecary whose only wish was to escape the Red Wizards and resurrect the woman he loved. Killed. A vampire hunter whose noble mission was to capture a dangerous spawn. Dead. Mud Mephits and Wood Woads, creatures ready to defend their home when you intruded. Slaughtered. It begs the question: Can you be a hero and still call yourself good?"
She looks at me sharply. "It wasn't my intention to kill those creatures at the Willow. I just want to help the Grove. It’s unfortunate that it had to come to that!"
I gently place my arm across her shoulders and take her hand. “Exactly.”
Her lips press together before her eyes drop to her feet. Silent. The sound of our footsteps crunches on the pebbles of the riverbank.
"The moment you found a worthy cause; there was no glory in your rescue. You only managed to instigate a goblin's tantrum. It nearly cost you your life, and for what? Your death would have been a waste, the gnome's plight would have been the same, and the scales would not be balanced."
I stop and place my hands on her shoulders, meeting her gaze. "You knew from the start that my plan was to use subterfuge. Bex, you helped me." I shake my head subtly, denying her ignorance. "You were never upset that I was a True Soul. You were upset that I exposed the truth: that salvation is a lie, survival is not guaranteed... and heroes don't exist."
My words envelop her, and she loses grip on something that she once held dear. Hope in a world she thought she knew. Her shoulders fall with a heavy exhale.
"Bex... I’m sorry."
She waves me off, "No... no need for that. I see now that I didn’t want to let go of simpler notions, but those simple notions are disingenuous. Worse still, they're dangerous."
Her voice begins to tremble. "I didn’t think twice about throwing myself into that confrontation. That entire horde could have come down on you if you hadn't had the means to intervene. You're right, I almost got us both killed, because of some foolish lie that heroes always triumph."
Quiet tears fall from her eyes. She’s not crying out of self-pity, or fear, but out of frustration. "I'm sorry."
I reach up but hesitate. She sees my gesture and looks at me. I finally place a thumb on her cheek and wipe a tear away. She sighs and reaches out, wrapping her arms around me and burying her face in my shirt. Her breath shudders as she rests herself within my arms. I rub her back and give her time.
She cries softly for a moment before settling and rubbing her whole entire face on my shirt... before pulling away.
She is a creature.
She sighs, nose swollen and stuffed up. I pull Astarion's kerchief from my pocket and hand it to her. She empties her nose into it and hands it back. He's going to love that.
We begin to walk once more; a shadow casts a comforting shroud over the path. She leans into me, and I place a hand low on her back, gripping gently. "I forgive you."
"Vash, I—" She pauses, looks up, and her eyes grow wide. What she sees before her is a monolith of devastation. Roaring. Putrid. She grips my cloak tightly as I bring her into the center of the ruined nautiloid. The broken hull towers over us. Vast, arching shards of the spiraled shell are sunken into the sands of the river's shore. The smell of burning chitin and decaying shipflesh assaults the senses. Waning hues of sunlight cast beams through smoke that weaves around the wreckage. The sound of lapping water echoes against the walls, amplified more so by the dreaded silence.
"What is this place?" She croaks, looking at me desperately.
"This is the site of the crash that rattled the hollow. Do you know what this structure is?"
She looks around, and I can tell she's trying to process what she's seeing. "No. I've never seen anything like it."
"It's called a Nautiloid, an Illithid Warship."
Deep concern festers within her. "Illithid...?"
I gesture towards a few scattered illithid carcasses. Shriveled, peaceful, and empty. I can tell the image of the ruined bodies fills her with both wonder and dread. "Illithids are creatures that function as a collective, relying heavily on psionic powers and communication. They are insidious and parasitic."
Bex recoils, and quickly steps into me, but she remains transfixed.
With great difficulty, I begin to open up. "My company and I are survivors of this crash. How we survived, we don't know, but we remain united under a common cause. To find a cure."
She shakes her head, "A cure? A cure for what?"
I carefully reach into my cloak pocket for one of the vials. I feel her grip me tighter. She sharply inhales before I even touch the tadpole. "...this." I present the wretched thing.
Her nostrils flare in disgust at the sight of the wriggling, toothy creature, but she remains notably silent. As if sifting the horror for what it means to me.
It sits helpless in my palm, such a small thing, to be the source of so many profound problems. "This is an illithid parasite. They infect the host and absorb their memories, gifting in return those illithid psionic powers. Before long, a new illithid is born, and it destroys the host in the process."
"A cure for..." She gasps sharply and quickly lets go of me as the realization hits her like a storm. I expect her to bolt, but to my surprise, she remains. "Gods."
"The druid Halsin has been researching them with his apprentice, Nettie. It's why it was imperative for me to infiltrate the goblin camp. I needed Halsin to tell me everything he knows about these creatures. Cure me, if he could." I tuck the parasite back into my pocket. "When we entered the goblin camp, the tadpole's psionic pull alone elevated us to True Souls. All True Souls are infected, but blissfully unaware of it." I catch the pity in her eyes and give a mournful sigh. "I didn't hesitate to lean into my new role. Anything to find a cure for my people."
Bex stands in stunned silence, before walking over to a piece of broken hull, gingerly pressing her fingers against it. "This is a lot to take in."
"You can see why I wasn't forthcoming. The implications of what I harbor could endanger me to anyone who decides a quick death is my only mercy." My mind lingers on Nettie once more.
Her face settles into pity. "This must be frightening for you."
"Yes, it is. I don't want to die this way. Though it seems True Souls are protected from turning."
Another wave of relief sinks into her, and she takes my hand, "Let's make this time count, then."
I grip her hands with a smile, comforted by her touch. "I am immensely grateful you gave me the opportunity to explain. Whether I deserved it or not, I'm grateful all the same."
She looks into my eyes. I recognize that she sees me for the man I am once again, but there is more. She has a much deeper trust in me.
My desire for her lingers, though foul thoughts continue to flood my mind. I gently place my fingers on her cheek. She doesn't pull away, and I feel her breath quicken. I put my forehead on hers. She closes her eyes, letting out the softest sigh.
Gods.
My heart skips a beat—the remnants of a man who was touched by joy for the briefest moment, before allowing himself to be consumed by duty.
I take a moment to savor her warmth before leaning down, my lips barely brushing hers before she pulls away. She presses her hand against my chest. "Thank you for trusting me, Vash." She gently pushes away, her fingers dragging across my shirt. She begins to walk back to camp, but slows and glances at me. She says nothing but her eyes have command over me. I obey, stumbling after her. My body aches for her radiance. As the world collapses at my feet, she will be the relic of who I was, at the end of eternity.