Content Warning: Graphic violence, murder, strangulation, cannibalism, body horror, gore, psychological horror, loss of agency, intrusive violent thoughts, predatory behavior, cult themes, mind control, coercion.

Immediate Cruelty to Squirrels, Gay Vampires, Naughty Boys.

My mind is racing with each step I take back to the redoubt. These revelations have created a lot of busy work but could lead us to a cure. Good news.

The sun's rays reach over the horizon, turning the sky gold as evening approaches. It may be best to set up camp for the day. Passing through the ivy gate I notice a trail off to the right, leading to the wooden elevator. The ominous chanting of the Rite grows louder as I draw near.

In a blink, I hear a wild chittering and from the corner of my eye, see a red squirrel charging. It launches itself at me and I quickly catch it under my heel and crush it. What angered the little thing, I can't begin to fathom. I scrape my boot on a stone nearby before finally stepping onto the elevator and making my way down.

Each killing, big or small, seems to flood my heart with a euphoric clarity. More importantly, I feel soothed.

What am I, that I would take pleasure in something so profane?

It's an indulgence I need to keep leashed, for the sake of my own preservation. Still, there are moments where death grips me in a way that feels outside of my control. The thought that I may not be able to restrain myself sends chills down my spine. Loss of agency is an intolerable prospect.

The platform settles on the sanctum below. My mind drifts as my eyes settle on the idol of Silvanus at the center of the ritual. The idea that a tiefling girl could slip in and steal the damned thing is laughable, but it demonstrates exactly what I told Kagha. They are desperate.

I hear the plucking of a lute and some faint singing. My gaze sweeps the grove before landing on Gale and a tiefling bard sitting on a cliff, overlooking the Rite. They're surrounded by wooden columns carved with swirling patterns and decorated with draping festive banners.

I make my way toward them, so I can collect my Wizard. I stop next to him and two red squirrels dash past me, screeching. I instinctively lift my foot, but they are out of sight in a flash.

Fucking vermin.

Gale looks over at me and smiles brightly, a naturally cheerful man. I can't tell if I like it or not. "You've made it back! We were wondering if you'd ever be done in there. How did the extraction go?"

I paint my face with remorse. "She couldn't help, but I can catch you up on the details later. I have a lot to discuss with you. Do you know where the others are?"

He waves his hand. "Oh, they can't be too far."

The bard chimes in with a bit of frustration. "I appreciate the audience, but if you're going to talk could you please go somewhere else?"

Gale quickly corrects himself. "Apologies, I was enjoying your practice. Please continue, no more words from us!"

My tail flicks behind me as her tone sparks something. Agitation? Intrigue? Hunger? My tail seems to have a mind of its own. "I thought a chatting audience would be expected."

She snorts. "If I were actually performing. But I'm practicing and trying to focus. This is important."

I can hear the frustration in her voice.

"Important? I hope you don't mind me asking, but what makes it so important?" I soften my voice for her.

I can tell she's irritated by my probing despite my careful approach. "Do you really care?"

"I'm asking."

She looks down at her lute and then another one laying on the ground next to her, "It's dedicated to my teacher, Lihala." Her tone quickly shifts from agitation to a gentle anguish.

Gale puts a hand to his heart. "Gods. We heard what happened, from Zevlor."

She doesn't look up, lost in the memory. "We escaped Elturel together. She was like a mother to me. When Zevlor brought us to these wilds we had such high hopes." She falls silent for a moment; I see her eyes shift as the memory replays. "She was so brave." The memory cuts at her insides until her tears tumble helplessly to the ground.

I reach out a hand but hesitate. She doesn't need grounding, she needs breath. "Cruel fates make great heroes. Lihala is counted among them. She is deserving of such a beautiful honor." The practice session sounded like ungodly caterwauling, but now I see it was held together by misery.

She shakes her head in frustration, "This song feels so inadequate, it doesn't say what I want to say. Like it's just ashes in my mouth." She suddenly gasps and Gale and I jump, startled by her excitement. "Gods! That's it!"

She gets to her feet and begins to croon out the dedication to Lihala. Her tone is even and melodic and I can tell she's singing from a place deep within her heart. The song is a poetic tribute and as she finishes she gives a sigh of relief, a weight lifted from her shoulders.

Gale's face softens, warm and attentive. "She would be so proud of you right now."

I offer a gentle smile in kind. "Evocative. Well done. She was clearly a remarkable teacher."

She smiles gratefully; her lamenting kindness strikes me in a way I can't explain. She's so pitifully innocent despite the tragedies she's survived. My hand twitches as an offer falls through my teeth: "Do you want to travel with us? We could use some music on the road." I'm not entirely sure if I meant to offer that or not, and I work to mask the confusion on my face. I wrestle back control of the moment. "My name is Vash Neel, and this is Gale."

Gale bows his head politely. "A true pleasure."

Her eyes go wide at the offer and she grabs her hair, twisting it in her hand, "Alfira." I see in her face that she's genuinely considering the offer, but a resolve in her eyes shows that something is holding her back, "No... I couldn't. I have obligations here. I appreciate the offer though!"

"Obligations? Is it something we can take care of for you?"

She laughs and blushes a little, "It's not really a something as much as it is a someone."

I give her a knowing smile. She's clearly leashed to a crush, "Ah. Understood. Well, if you change your mind we'll be camped just outside the gate."

She smiles brightly, though a vague sadness still lingers, "Thank you. Truly."

We quickly find the others and set up camp right outside the gate as promised. Gale insists on preparing the meal for the evening. I take this time to fill them in on what I learned after getting separated.

"You killed Nettie?"

The alarm in Gale's voice is warranted.

"Regrettable, but the minute we were alone she tried to strike. She said she needed the worm for her research. Killing me was the only way she could extract it."

Astarion sneers. "I guess we better be careful who we tell about our little... condition."

"Agreed. She mentioned that Halsin, the last First Druid, had experience extracting tadpoles. We may have better luck hunting him down. If he disappeared with Aradin's gang, then he's likely being held at the goblin camp. Perhaps we can find him and get some answers." I glance over at Astarion. "Aren't you going to eat anything? This is actually good."

I hear Gale stop mid-chew. "Actually good?"

Astarion waves his hand. "I'm sure it's fine, I just don't really have an appetite tonight. It's been a long day. Oh! That reminds me." He reaches into his pocket. "I do have this. Something I thought you might find very interesting."

Giving him a curious glance, I take it from him. It's a small, weathered note with a simple message.

"What is this?"

He shrugs. "No clue, but it does seem juicy. I found it while you were viciously strangling the druid's last available healer."

A smirk tugs at the corner of my lips. "Spare me. You would have done the same if you were in my position."

"In an instant." He grips his knees and leans back, giddy. "That fridged bitch, Kagha, is up to something. It sounds delicious."

Shadowheart looks over my shoulder, reading the note. I hold it up for her. She mutters. "It is peculiar."

"Do you think it's pertinent to our situation? I don't want to get distracted by irrelevant tosh when we have more important matters to attend to."

Astarion scoffs. "Irrelevant tosh!? Drama is never irrelevant."

Gale leans in. "I could argue against that point."

Astarion swats at him, dismissively. "You wizards."

Shadowheart hovers over me. "I don't think it's anything we should focus on right now, but it could be useful for leverage in the future. Hold onto it."

I give her a playful grin. "Leverage? I didn't realize you were so well versed in subterfuge."

"Isn't it a good thing I am?" She sits next to me. "I understand you had no choice when you killed Nettie. But bullying our way through our problems will only get us so far. We'll need to be more cunning going forward."

I hang my head and nod. "I agree. A more calculated approach should be our priority. Even so, we need to be ready to fight as a last resort. I'm not going to let anything stand in our way of a cure."

Shadowheart seems relieved by my pragmatism.

I take a deep breath, my tail curled and flicking behind me. "I don't want to get involved in local politics, but Zevlor and Kagha have already tried to stick us in the middle of their little squabble. If it comes down to it, let's try to handle things swiftly and bloodlessly, if we can help it." My mind drifts to the thought of a slaughtered grove once more. I'd call it an intrusive thought if I hadn't discovered that violence is written on my heart.

I tuck the note away. "I left the grove through a back entrance. I hid Nettie's body so's not to raise any suspicions. When I made it out, I came across a dying man who was infected like us. He named me a True Soul. Have any of you heard of such a thing?"

They each shared glances, no one speaks up.

"The man had been scouting with his two siblings, a brother and sister. They were cultists of that new goddess Zevlor mentioned, looking for survivors of the crash. Looking for us. They said we held a weapon the Absolute wanted found."

I notice Shadowheart grow still.

"As a 'True Soul', they were instructed to obey me. I told them to abandon their mission. I don't know what mission they were on, but I couldn't have them meddling. The brother became belligerent at my command, so I was forced to dispatch him."

Astarion leans in. "My, my. Didn't you have a very bloodthirsty afternoon?"

I straighten my lips and ignore him. "The sister managed to escape."

Lae'zel scoffs. "And you didn't hunt after her? A poor warrior to let your enemy escape so easily."

"Admittedly it was not ideal. They mentioned the nearby goblin camp. True Soul Minthara seems to be the one pushing for the weapon. We need to get into that camp and see what these True Souls know of our condition. I plan to recruit Sazza to vouch for us, so we can get in. As a True Soul of the Absolute, she will likely comply."

I feel Astarion's judgmental eyes on me and I glance over at him, he gives me the most insincere grin. "You seem to be quite comfortable leaning into being a True Soul."

He's right, being a True Soul feels like yet another missing piece of me recovered. I match his grin. "I'm a Paladin, being a self-righteous prick is one of the things we do best."

"Ha! Gods, at least you're self-aware."

I flash him a coy smile. "That being said, I'm going to bed early. We have a lot to do tomorrow."

The night passes in phases.

I sink wistfully into the bowels of my mind only to be jolted to the forefront of consciousness again and again. My sleep is restless. I don't know how long I had been trying to sleep, but as I lay playing this tug of war in my brain, I feel a gentle breeze brush past my cheek. I open my eyes.

Astarion is hovering over me, teeth bared, ready to bite.

He notices me wake and quickly sits back to give me space. He smiles vaguely and goes to speak, but I snatch his throat and stand, lifting him into the air. "I don't want to hear it."

He gags and grabs my arms. A panic sets in and he kicks his dangling feet.

I pace the camp like a feral animal. After a moment he settles into an unnatural calm. Our eyes lock and he hangs completely at my mercy.

My voice rings heavy with adrenaline. "When I agreed to travel with you, it was in good faith despite your fucking antics." I walk past Gale's tent, the sound of the night fading into the background as my racing heart thrums in my ears. "What about the others? Were you going to pick us off one by one?"

Astarion is focused on me, almost unblinking. His face holds a measured intensity as he continues to cling to my arms.

I pull him in close and speak with a vague mad laughter. "I'm going to lay you down, place my boot on your head, and crush it. Slowly. I'm going to savor the feeling of your skin ripping, the seams of your skull popping, your head buckling under the pressure."

I'm salivating at the prospect, yearning deeply to become his undoing. I feel a crackling run up my spine again. "Will you scream for me, Astarion? Will you survive? Will you stumble around camp, a ruptured husk? Will your head grow back? Will I get to do it again?" He's trying to hide his growing panic.

My voice hisses with disdain. "Elves live for centuries but always manage to die in the dumbest fucking ways." I pin him to the ground, and for a fleeting moment I see his resolve begin to fade. With that resignation I get a bolt of clarity through my chest.

Who among us is the butcher, tonight?

Would I be the soul picking everyone off. One. By. One.

I fight to get hold of myself. Chills surge through me. I close my eyes, and focus.

Astarion can see what I'm trying to do because I feel his grip tighten on me. Whether he intended to or not, he's comforting me.

I feel my lucidity return. Astarion's brow is furrowed, but calm. We watch each other for a moment more. "Astarion. Don't test me again."

I drop him and he stumbles, falling hard on his ass. He takes a moment to collect himself before shooting me a daggered glance. "Good gods. What is wrong with you?"

My eyes grow wide at his audacity. "What is wrong with me? You should be kissing my feet right now!"

He sneers with white-hot venom, "Please. My lips aren’t going anywhere near your feet! Why in the Hells would I reward you after such a petulant tantrum." He smirks.

I throw my hands in the air. "Can't you take anything seriously?"

Scoffing, he climbs to his feet, dusting off his pants. "Not if I can help it. Have you considered lightening up? It was just going to be a nibble." He's pouty for a moment before shifting into a wry smile. "Maybe invest more time in looking less delicious."

My hair stands on end. Even after everything that's happened, he's trying to flatter me. The spine on this man is ironclad. I stare at him, letting the silence stretch before finally pointing at my bedroll. "Sit."

A flash of victory crosses his face as he makes himself at home and watches me intently.

I sit across from him and take a deep breath to fully collect myself. Then, I begin. "How long have you been a vampire?"

"224 years."

"And before then?"

"I was a magistrate in Baldur's Gate."

"How old were you when you were turned?"

"I don't know why that matters, but I was 39."

"Oh, so you were a baby."

"Excuse me!" He cannot hide his flattered smile. "I had a job, lived my life, just like any other Baldurian."

"How often do you need to kill to feed?"

He puts his hand on his chest with offense. "I haven't killed anyone for food, how dare you."

"Nobody?"

He hesitates. "...I haven't been feeding on people. I had been planning to hunt in the wilds. Maybe I could catch some boar or rabbits" a pause, "maybe some kobolds."

"If you haven't been feeding on people then what did you do in Baldur's Gate?"

"I had my food provided for me in the city. Though it was never thinking creatures. In all honesty... you would have been my first." He looks down and fidgets with his fingernails, visibly uncomfortable.

My laughter trails into my words, "Really? Very first? I'm flattered." Astarion and I share a brief smile. "If you had bitten me, wouldn't I have turned?"

"Not at all. I'm just a vampire spawn. I wouldn't be capable of turning you into a true vampire, or even another spawn."

"A true vampire. So, there is, or was, a true vampire out there that turned you all those years ago?"

He becomes bereft of his casually smug attitude. "Yes." His quiet response unnerves me.

I wait for him to continue, then my face falls and my heart becomes cold, "I need you to think carefully about your next words. Are you in contact with them? Are you going to bring them to our camp? Are you loyal to them still?"

He gives me a weary look, "No." He lowers his voice, as if the vampire can hear us speaking, "I am not loyal to him, and I don't feel him anymore. Not since waking up with the tadpole in my head. Things have changed, but to what degree, I'm not sure."

"Lay it out plain, Astarion. I need to understand what's going on."

He lowers his head, his body shrinking as his mind shifts to a place somewhere far from here. Even his voice sounds distant. "Can we talk about this another time? It's been one day. I'm not ready for this."

I look down at the small man in front of me. Deflated. Broken somehow. "You brought this on yourself when you tried to attack me." I consider him and decide to rein in my questions and try to stick to what's pertinent for now. "Are we in danger, from you, or any other vampires that might be roaming these wilds? Are there any vampires coming for us? And how can I trust you to be telling me the truth after what you just tried to do to me?"

Astarion looks at me, and for the first time, his eyes look uncharacteristically sincere. I would never have guessed he was capable of such a thing. "I swear, I am not a danger to anyone in this company. As for the Vampire, I'm fairly certain we are safe for now. If that changes, I will let you know. You can trust me because we are in the same boat. I want to survive, just like you." His face lightens into gentle melancholy. "Vash, I understand you're measuring the risk I pose, so let me offer you some perspective." He closes his eyes and looks up at the night sky, gathering his thoughts. "I haven't felt the sun in two centuries."

I'm taken aback. Two centuries and he finally gets to feel the warmth of the sun on his skin. It must feel better than sex. "Astarion."

He turns his eyes to me once more, "This tadpole has given me my life back. I'm finally free! Admittedly, I've been reckless with you. I apologize for my chaotic behavior. A leopard can't change its spots, tadpole be damned, but believe me when I say I want to live."

I side-eye him. "Do you even want a cure?"

He simply shakes his head. "I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. Cure myself from the tadpole and return to the Vampire's thrall or keep the tadpole and become an Illithid. Again, it's only been a day, and those are existential questions I'd rather let sit for now while I get used to this new reality of mine."

I give him a gentle nod and shift focus. "So, with all that running through your mind, why try to drink my blood? After 224 years, why try something so gods damned reckless, tonight?"

He leans back and looks at the withering embers. He's quiet for a while. "You could call it hunger, but it came with a restless curiosity." His foot begins to shake. "The vampire I was bound to had command over my body. I'd never drunk the blood of thinking creatures because he never allowed me to do so."

My breath catches and I say my next words softly. "You were a slave..."

The sadness in his eyes pierces my empty heart. He says nothing more.

"So, you risked your life because you were curious to see if you were still bound to his control."

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, "Yes. That would be the sum of it."

I pause for a moment, considering these revelations. Why was his master so intent on keeping him from drinking the blood of thinking creatures? What will it do to him? What would it do to me? ...How would it feel to have my blood drained? I come to a decision on the matter, "Let's do it."

He looks stunned and responds in a flat tone. "What?"

"Let's see if you can and, if so, what it does for you. I'm curious. You can drink my blood, just don't take more than you need."

"I-... thank you. If at any point you want me to stop, let me know." His eyes light up for the briefest moment.

"I will." His excitement feeds me. This certainly isn't how I thought I would be spending my evening, but my curiosity has gotten the better of me.

We get into position; I lay back down on my bedroll and present my neck.

He watches me and I give him a reassuring nod. He tracks my neck, then bites. It feels like a blade of fire and ice piercing my skin. The pain feeds my pleasure in an unexpected feedback loop of sensations, my body rushing with pleasurable tremors. It's electrifying. My hand gently moves to the back of his calf, gripping him firmly, almost possessive.

I feel him smile as he softly slides his hand behind my head, threading his fingers through my hair before gripping tightly. I take a sharp breath in, and I can smell my blood as he drinks me, smearing on my neck in a sticky, fragrant mess.

Fuck. I was not expecting this.

It's a wonderful aching that I never want to end, but I cannot let him take me away. I do the math. I'm 200cm (6' 7"), not including my horns, 115kg (~250lbs), so I have approx. 8 liters of blood, and I'm only willing to spare 1 liter at most. I'm already starting to feel myself ebbing away. A taste of peace from the chaos of my wretched life.

With remorse, I gently place my hand on his chest. "That's enough."

Astarion's lack of a heartbeat catches me off guard. It's a small reminder that he is undead. No need for breath. No need for a lot of the inconveniences the living have to deal with.

"Hmmm?" He lets go immediately, sitting back. "Gods..." He sounds wistful and euphoric.

I sit up and place a hand on my neck. "Fetch me a rag, I'm a little too lightheaded to stand."

He's staring at me with a post-coital glow, his eyes drifting across my body, lost in thought. My request finally sinks in. "Oh! Of course!" He dashes to his tent and returns with a silken kerchief.

I place it on my neck and look at him expectantly. "So, how do you feel?"

His smile is genuine, he seems fulfilled. "I don't think my head has ever been so clear. I feel powerful, I feel... happy." He says the word, reminded that even he may be deserving of such a thing.

"I look forward to seeing the benefits."

He laughs. "Indeed! Now that the truth is out, I can use all the tools at my disposal." He stands and stretches. "I still feel that aching hunger, but I think with this new vigor, I may have a chance at finding some decent prey tonight." He looks down at me, and after a moment passes he kneels once more, gripping the hair on the back of my head once again. I lose my breath. "You've given me a powerful gift. I won't forget it."

He turns and leaves. Only time will tell if it did any good. He leaves satisfied while I sit unfulfilled. It's something I can't focus on right now, but another tremor rushes through me.

Gods...

We've got a lot to do tomorrow. I need to rest.