Bex and I walk back to the hollow as the day wanes. A headache presses behind my eyes, and I blink, trying to shake the pain.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes. I think the day's finally caught up with me."

We stop just outside the ivy gate. "I want to thank you, Vash."

"You're welcome."

She grins and slaps my arm. "You don't even know what for yet. I swear."

I return a feeble smile.

"For... for seeing me."

The ivy gate opens behind her and she hesitates.

"Thank you for showing me." I give her a soft nod.

She reaches up, but pulls her hand back, clutching it to her chest. I watch her make her way inside.

I still myself in the quiet of the night before following the trail back to camp.

The headache begins to strangle my mind, and I grow unsteady. Something trickles down my lip and I tap my nose to find blood on my fingers. The back of my throat tastes like bile and blood.

...Gods... I don't have time for this.

All of this and Halsin wouldn't offer a cure, and now look at us. I'm going to turn and the goblin camp is going to consume him sooner or later. We're both dead because he was too stubborn to give me the cure. If he were an expert on this condition he would have known... did he even have a cure at all?

My nostrils flare and I look to the sky. The Tears of Selûne hang silently, offering to be nothing more than a witness. I close my eyes and breathe.

I don't want to spend my final moments angry with some stodgy old druid cunt.

He's going to die, Father, and I'm glad he will be tallied.

I smile softly. How petulant of me.

The campfire glows in the distance as I approach camp. Gale sits alone, arms folded, staring into the flames.

He doesn't look at me as I stand next to him.

"Ceremorphosis," he murmurs. "It's not exactly how I imagined my life to end. It seems... unglamorous."

"You feel it too?"

"Mmm..." He gives a soft nod.

I place my hand on Gale's shoulder. "Perhaps it's nothing. Go to bed. Think of what the morning brings."

He turns toward me, bracing himself against the fallen log. "You really are a singularly ominous man, Vash." He stands on shaking knees before shuffling to his tent. A weary wizard. I wish I had gotten to know him better.

I smile feebly and slowly bring myself to sit. It seems the others are resting in their tents. I can see Astarion through his tent door with his hand resting on his face. The fire embers sizzle and begin to sputter out. I don't bother stoking it further.

A vague moan comes from Astarion's tent. "Lae'zel..."

I lift my head. There is a flash of steel, and a cold blade pressed against my throat. Lae'zel is crouched in front of me, covered in sweat.

My hand shoots up, snatching her by the throat and lifting her into the air as I stand.

Astarion gasps dramatically, reaching out a hand. "No! Lae'zel! He'll start monologuing!"

She grits her teeth and grabs my arm, running the blade across my skin.

"Do better." I rasp before slamming her into the ground.

She grunts and blood sputters from her mouth. Her feet find purchase, and she kicks off me. I stumble back as she rolls to her feet.

"Lae'zel-" I gag, gripping my chest.

She coughs and points her blade at me. "It is our time, Istik. Do not fight it. I cannot allow the ghaik to build their army. We will not become their spawn. What I offer is mercy."

"We do not need your mercy." I straighten and approach her. "You, however..." I pull my dagger and settle on my knees, guiding her to sit across from me. I place my dagger between us.

"I have studied the texts, Vash," she grunts. "The signs are clear." She doubles over, clutching her stomach. "We are lost..."

"What is the ritual of your people?"

"One simple stroke." She gestures across her neck. "In doing so, we die as warriors, culling the plains of one more ghaik invader. A sacred final act."

"Then let us die together. As warriors."

Her brow grows tight. "As it should be."

I pick up the dagger and we sit quietly for a moment. I close my eyes and bow my head. "In Her name."

"Vlaakith tavki na'zin."

I bring the blade to my throat and give her a nod.

She follows and steadies her breath. Then she begins to draw the blade.

I wait, my hand lowering.

A whispered spell and she slumps into Gale's arm, asleep. Blood trickles from the side of her throat.

He holds her close before his eyes snap to mine.

"How dare you." His voice shakes as the weave shifts around him. "She's been trying..." He coughs and holds the back of his trembling hand to his lips. "...You should be ashamed of yourself."

He carries her to her tent.

With a sigh, I finally climb into my bedroll.

Fucking swine.

The moment I close my eyes I feel a swift kick in my back. Astarion is hovering over me.

I press my palms to my eyes. "How in the hells do you fucking have the energy to bother me right now?"

He taps my shoulder and I move over. He nestles next to me and I put my arm around him. He shifts closer and rests his head on my chest. "I just wanted to be sure that you knew, with my dying breath, that you're the coldest bastard I've ever met."

I chuckle lightly before wincing in pain. He runs his finger over the blood on my arm and tastes it, a subtle smile crossing his lips.

"You are an insufferable prick," I murmur. "And I mean that from the bottom of my heart."

I'm awash with voices that echo and cascade endlessly through the air. The sky is a vivid violet, filled with clouded galaxies that drift and collide in a timeless space. Great rocky bodies tumble past weightless. Effortless.

The Astral Plane?

I'm sitting in a verdant garden, adorned with crumbling marble pillars, and latticework that plays host to vines of blue morning glories. Ancient ferns and mosses decorate the ground, with a whisper of pink blossoms peeking through the green. There is movement. Someone is approaching.

My breath escapes me and I stagger to my feet. "Alfira!"

She is clad in golden armor and gives me a gentle smile. "Vash. I'm glad I was able to pull you to safety when I did."

I run over to her, gripping her shoulders and looking over her. Her hair is dusty. Her skin, pale and marbled. Like she rose from her crypt to find me. "How is this possible? I tore you apart."

"Yes, you did." She begins to walk the garden and I follow her. Each step is serene, as if she has a right to still be alive. "I am the one in the prism who has been protecting you. I have kept you safe from the Absolute. I am keeping you from undergoing ceremorphosis now."

I stop briefly, and my fingers flex. "So, you are sentient."

"I am."

"I... don't understand."

"The only thing I can offer is this form. A facsimile of the person you desire most."

"You are mistaken."

"You think you desire Bex. She is merely a pacifier for the bleeding fear you still feel about Alfira's death, even now."

"I do not fear death."

"Of course not. A silly notion to assume the reaper would fear his own breath."

My body grows stiff.

"Her death exposed your most glaring flaw." She watches a rocky boulder float by, her tail swaying. "You're just another puppet for the Gods."

...

"What do you want?" I ask.

"I want to give you back control of yourself."

"A lofty promise."

She laughs softly. "You've been dancing to the whims of so many lately. Zevlor. Halsin. The Absolute. ...Bhaal."

My eyes narrow.

"You have the means to control it all." She leans into me. "The tadpole, Vash. By now you know it gives you a powerful advantage. You've utilized it already. Your control over the pod on the Nautiloid. Your psionic connection with Astarion. Your effortless dismantling of the goblin's psyche. Paltry parlor tricks. You haven't realized just how much potential it holds. It is far more than you know."

Do I want to give this damned thing more power? It only exists to consume me.

"Giving it more power will not turn it against you. As I said, I am protecting you from ceremorphosis. This allows you to utilize its power at will, without the fear of turning."

"Don't do that," I say sharply.

"Apologies. I will refrain from answering your thoughts."

"How gracious of you."

"You're on the right path. You've already been collecting tadpoles."

"That instinct was you?"

"It was."

"I see. There's no need for me to ask why I should trust you. If I don't comply, then you withdraw your protection. I'm at your mercy."

"I'm sorry it has to be this way, but you would never have helped out of the good of your heart. You have no heart. It's a mercy I don't need to waste my time trying to appeal to it. Even so, I come to you as an ally, not a master."

"A meaningless sentiment."

"Please. Let us work toward our shared goal."

"And what is that?"

"To bring an end to the threat of the Absolute. You know who she is. You know why it must be done."

"The tablet on the nautiloid..." I mutter. "You can see why I'm hesitant to trust the tadpoles."

"Yes, but sometimes we must cure poison with poison. The memories from the tadpoles can imbue you with new powers." She puts a hand on my arm. "Let it happen."

"How, exactly? I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with them."

"You must merely attune yourself to them. Your tadpole will absorb their power, and that power will be yours. The siphoned parasite will wither and die. Use them wisely. They cannot be shared."

"Gods. And I fucking lost one already."

An explosion rattles the garden.

She ducks. "I must go... Vash, embrace the potential these worms have to offer. Any advantage will help you in the coming war."

I shrug off her hands. "This war has nothing to do with me. Why is everyone so Hells-bent on getting me involved?"

Her eyes flash. "You're far more involved than you realize. Now go!" She presses her fingers to my forehead. I am jettisoned back into my mind.

My eyes snap open and I sit up, dropping Astarion's head on the ground.

He jolts awake, popping up next to me. "What in the hells?" He pats himself down. "Oh, thank the gods. I'm still beautiful."

"Are you alright?" I ask.

He nods before stretching his stiff limbs. "Yes. It would seem so. And you?" He looks up at me and presses his fingers to my lip. "No tentacles hiding in that mustache of yours."

I swat his hand away before gingerly getting to my feet and stretching my quivering limbs. I offer him my hand, and he takes it, rising to his feet. He retrieves a towel and glances at me coquettishly.

"You're filthy." He drags a finger across my arm as he walks toward the river. I follow him, pulling off my tunic.

"It doesn't take much to get your clothes off, does it?"

"Was this wrong?" I clutch the tunic.

"Darling. It's the most correct you've been yet." He removes his blouse and lays it across a stone. There is an array of puckered scars radiating outward from the center of his back. The scar pattern looks like a collection of words, but I can't quite catch what it says.

"Wait." I step closer to him.

"What?" He catches me eyeing his back. He turns sharply to face me.

"What is that?" I ask.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. Some sort of poem, but the less I think about it, the better."

"Did Cazador do that to you?"

"...Let it go."

"Of course, it's just..."

He rolls his eyes. "It's just, what?"

"They seem familiar."

His shoulders tense. "Please, don't bring it up again unless I ask."

"I apologize. I'll keep my eyes to myself."

A coy smile grows on his face. "I mean, scars aside, I don't hate the idea of you worshipping my body."

"Is that what you want?" I step closer to him.

"Yes. More than anything!" He tousles his white curls playfully.

My gaze drifts over him. I tuck my fingers into the waistband of his trousers and pull him close to me, leaning down and murmuring in his ear. "You are the sacrament that I wish to taste."

"Oooh. Not bad."

I grab his hips. "I pray to be anointed by your holy essence."

"I'm filled to the brim with holy essence." He wraps his arms around my neck.

"On the day of judgement, I will be on my knees before you."

"That better be a promise."

A throat clears behind us. We glance over. Gale stands stock-still with towel in hand. "Am I interrupting something? I can go... I should go."

I reach out my hand. "We have room for a third."

He stares at me.

"Are you still upset about yesterday? Gale, she attacked me, and then openly admitted she was going to kill everyone. Including you."

"What you did wasn't just reprehensible. It was alarming."

"You mean I shouldn't have encouraged the zealot to follow her own doctrine? The brush with death will most certainly be the wake-up call she needs."

"None of that is your decision to make!"

I step toward him. "If you're so concerned about her well-being, then you can be the one who steers her toward absolution."

"Absolution? For what?"

My nose curls. "For what she almost did to me."

He stills, meeting my eyes.

"Remember this, Vash, I'm always willing to give people a chance, but don't try anything like that again."

"That is how we survive."

His shoulders fall and he shifts his focus to Astarion.

Astarion has just finished bathing. He pulls his shirt on before speaking curtly. "Good gods, Gale. You are such a mood killer." He brushes past both of us, headed back to his tent.

Gale watches him go, then glances back to me before walking away.

I bitterly bathe by myself.

I approach the campfire, drying my hair.

Shadowheart is pacing, twisting her braid in her hands. "If we all shared the same dream, then the prism is the only thing keeping us safe right now." She pulls it from her satchel. It pulses lightly with a red glow.

Gale sits on a stool with his feet propped on a log. "Surely we can reach the dream visitor through the prism. I'm not keen on the idea of waiting for her to decide to invade my sleep again. We need an avenue of direct communication, if we're truly to be allies."

"Yes, but are we even capable of such a thing to begin with? Would our minds even comprehend-" Lae'zel falls quiet as she sees me approach.

Gale gets up and sits next to her.

Astarion’s eyes flick to me. He smirks, still polishing his nails.

Lae'zel shifts her focus to the flames. "...why would a githyanki artifact decree we be tempted by illithid power? This must be some sort of trick."

Gale places a hand on her shoulder. "Whatever it is, I'm certain we'll get the answers in due time. We just need to be diligent."

Shadowheart places the prism back in her satchel. "The visitor told us you had been collecting tadpoles. When were you going to tell us this?"

I drop my towel on a dry stone. "What was I going to say? That I had a pocket full of useless bugs? They meant nothing until now."

"What compelled you to collect them in the first place?"

"She did. I was... interested." I gather my coat and throw it over my shoulders, then pull out a vial and hold it up. "I still am. Especially now that we know what their potential is."

A loud pop comes from the campfire, followed by a sizzle.

"So..." Astarion says. "Who's first?"

We look at each other and I place the tadpole back in my pocket. "I don't think now is the time to decide. We have them. We know what they do. That's good enough for now."

I walk over to the camp chest and pull out Fezzerk's axe, strapping it to my back next to my greatsword. "Astarion, may I speak with you privately?"

He stops polishing his nails, eyeing the axe on my back. Then he tosses his hair with a smile. "This better be good. I had some very important lounging planned for today." He rises to his feet and follows me along the riverbank.

"Your plans may very well change." I walk with him until the camp is out of sight. "I need your services."

His eyes shift subtly to the axe once more. "It's going to take more than that to bed me, darling."

"No, that's not what I mean. I'd like to discuss the grove with you."

His shoulders fall and he groans loudly. "I knew you were going to get involved. Fucking paladins."

"I have been busy working with them on something I think you may find very interesting."

"Darling, there is nothing less interesting to me than a circle of dirt worshippers."

"Naturally." I hand him the grove's inventory.

He takes it, scanning the page. His expression sharpens.

"Vash, what are you about to do?"

I smile.

"Today, I become the savior of the Emerald Grove."