Chapter 3

Apikusis leads us to a corner of the grove, next to a large stone door. She slows to a halt, gesturing toward the door. "The First Druid is just through there, but..." she looks around. "Ser." she leans into me and murmurs, "Have you spoken to Zevlor?"

I look down at her. "Yes. Why?"

Her face hardens with determination. "May I speak to you privately?"

Gale waves his hand. "Please, we can spare a moment."

I glare at him before nodding. "Make it brief."

"Of course."

I hear Astarion groan loudly as the druid woman leads me down a bank to a stony cliffside.

She ducks into a hidden corridor carved into the stone. It's tight, and the walls seem to press in on me. My pulses rises, but the narrow corridor opens up into a wide chamber, lit by candles.

I breathe.

The room has a faint haze to it and smells of wet earth and smoldering amber. Bookshelves line the walls, filled with tomes, potions, and various gadgets. Birds and rats are scattered about, meandering and tittering. A man and a woman are lounging around a large round oak table, sharing a hookah.

The man does a double take as I walk in.

"Hembry, I'm afraid you owe me some coin." Apikusis holds out her hand.

Hembry is a dark dwarf with darker hair and a curled beard that hides his neck. His robes look priestly, but his demeanor seems indulgent. Not necessarily mutually exclusive qualities.

"Hah! I should have known better than to bet against you." He firmly pressed a few coppers into Apikusis' palm. "How did you get him to come?"

"I asked nicely."

I clear my throat. "Excuse me, was there an actual point to me being here?"

Hembry's smoking parter is a naga. Beneath her dark scarlet cloak, her body is coiled tightly. Her scales are decorated with wide bands of silver, black and copper scales. She holds her pipe like an aristocrat, and grins with a wily charm.

"Please, Ser, take a seat. We have an extra pipe." She pushes a chair out toward me.

"Another time, perhaps."

She scowls. "Busy man."

Apikusis rests her hands on the tabletop, leaning in. "We'll get right to it, then. That's Hembry and Emila."

They wave their hookah pipes at me.

Apikusis continues. "As a paladin, we were hoping you could assist us with our cause."

"And what cause is that?"

Her brow creases and I see her fingers press firmer into the table. "The Rite of Thorns. We have to put an end to it."

A smile crawls across my face. "You're revolutionaries."

Her face twists. "Are we? Honestly, nothing like this has ever happened in the Emerald Grove, which is why we would like you to speak to Kagha on our behalf."

"And what do you think I could possibly accomplish? A stranger waltzing into a druid circle asking to please stop a sacred ritual."

Apikusis smirks. "Farfetched though it may seem, we are unfortunately out of options."

I lean a hand on the table. "There are always options. It just depends on where you want to draw the line."

Hembry coughs lightly before taking a breath. "This madness must stop. We have coin, of course. Shrouding ourselves from the world is not Silvanus' will. Besides, we can't push the refugees out. It's not what Halsin would have wanted."

I lean forward. "Are you saying he made a mistake putting Kagha in charge?"

He goes quiet, mouthing the pipe lightly.

Apikusis interjects. "We're saying he misjudged her. She's young, I don't know what possessed him to assume she was ready. Emila has far more experience."

Emila scoffs. "Let the brood mother lead us. Her and her feckless serpent have no backbone. Teela is just as cocky and twice as dumb. Silvanus help us if an actual serpent be First Druid in his absence." I see her coiled body tighten slightly and she takes another drag of the hookah with a bitter scowl. She glances at me; her voice pinched as smoke escapes with every word. "Don't be fooled by the death viper's menace. It's all posture and no venom." She exhales the remaining smoke.

Hembry shakes his head. "Maybe it's a test, Silvanus must be testing us." He taps the hookah pipe against his palm. "We need a Peace Bringer who can help."

"Peace Bringer?"

"A term of endearment amongst myconids colonies. I was initiated into the Circle of Spores. Being duergar, growing up in the Underdark, that should go without saying. The myconids are as good as kin, so I may have adopted some of their better terms." He says with a few contented puffs.

I let a moment pass as I consider their position. "If I help," I begin, "it must be on my terms. I cannot promise this will end cleanly, but I can guarantee an end. How much are you willing to sacrifice for peace?"

They exchange a glance.

Hembry slowly sets down his pipe and folds his fingers. "Ser, you need to understand something from our perspective. The Rite of Thorns does not take this long. At most it should have taken a few hours, and yet they've been at it for days."

A few birds chirp, and the candle flickers as they take flight across the room. A house wren lands on my shoulder, waggling its tail feathers and tweeting. I glance at it, my nose curled. My hand aches with a cold desire to break him.

The seams of the chair creak as Hembry leans forward. "Something is wrong. Silvanus must be protecting us from the curse, but we can't truly know how long his protection will last." His voice grows desperate. "We need someone who can advocate for us. That's why we need you. Think about it. In our hour of need, a Paladin arrives and protects the gate from a goblin horde? Destiny. I have no doubt."

Apikusis holds up her hand. "Let's not get carried away. The man just got here and you're already spewing nonsense about destiny." She glances at me. "Look. If you can try, we'd be grateful. Even if your efforts fail, we will still pay you. Half." She smirks.

"I'm not a sell sword."

The hope in Hembry's eyes remains steadfast. Apikusis lifts herself from the table. Emila takes a long drag from the hookah, the tip of her tail flipping.

"I will speak to Kagha."

Hembry snaps his fingers and points at Emila. "I told you!" He turns to me. "Ser, you are too generous. You have our gratitude."

I hold up my hand. "I'm not going to pretend that the odds of convincing her are good. They're not. I don't care how much charisma you have. I will try, of course, but what I need more than anything is information. Once I've finished speaking with her, let's reconvene here so we can discuss next steps. If by some miracle I can convince her, then our business is done and we can share a bottle of good wine and wash our hands of the matter."

"Mead, Ser. Our mead is quite excellent." Hembry says with a proud grin.

I smile. "Even better."

Apikusis sighs. "Thank you. She's been a handful to say the least. She always has been."

Emila breathes out a few ringlets, then lets out a jet of smoke that breaks them. "If she becomes belligerent, do me a favor." She points the hookah pipe at me. "Deck her for me. You can have an extra bottle of mead for that." She gives a hardened chuckle. Only half joking.

"You are certainly a lively bunch."

"It is our duty to cause mischief." She grins wide. "Let us know the moment you have news."

"Paladin," Apikusis reaches for my hand, "thank you."

With a smile and give it a squeeze with a slight bow. "My name is Vash Neel."

I turn and head back through the fucking corridor.

Chapter 5

I send Gale off to find the others, giving him the map with the campsite circled.

The cliffside corridor. The yawning darkness stares into my heart, leaving me feeling naked and raw.

My eyes narrow. I am unmoored from today's events. I don't have the confidence to speak right now. I duck around the stone wall and crouch on my heels for a moment, staring blankly at the sand. My eyes go out of focus.

Time Passes.

My mind wanders.

And I blink.

Slowly, I stand. My feet are numb, but I manage to roll my shoulders, regaining my poise. I finally slide into the corridor without a second thought.

Emila and Apikusis are playing lance board. Hembry seems to be absent.

Apikusis sees me enter.

Emila shifts in her seat to see me step into the candlelight. "Well, if it isn't the Peace Bringer." She smirks. "Is now a good time for sitting?"

Apikusis leans back. "What's the word on the Rite?"

Emila nudges a chair forward and I take it. "I did not talk her out of it, of course. This was to be expected."

Emila laughs lightly. "Please tell me you at least decked her?"

"No on that front, too."

"That's a 100% failure rate."

"Hah." I lean back in the chair. "Do you have others who are sympathetic to your cause?"

"Yes." Emila fidgets with her bishop. "Yes, I can think of a couple."

"Gather them. Do it discreetly and be diligent. We're going to need to know who stands with you."

Emila and Apikusis share a glance.

"Do you know a man named Aelar?"

"Aelar." Emila's posture lifts slightly. "The First Warden. Of course."

"Bring him in," I place my boot on the edge of the table, leaning back. "If you can, that is."

"I'll speak to him tonight."

"Good. It seems Kagha has plans for the Grove Wardens that he may not be privy to."

Apikusis castles her rook and king. "Is that what she said? She's more delusional than I realize."

"Fuck." Emila scans the board. "You're bad luck, Vash. She usually doesn't whoop me like this."

"Bad luck for you, maybe." Apikusis pats my boot. "He's my lucky charm."

I give her a knowing smile before pushing back from my chair. "Let's meet again at first light and we can discuss this further."

Emila's tail coils around my feet. "Stay a while, no need to scurry off so soon."

I feel cold scales slide smoothly over leather and smile. "I'm afraid bad luck has a curfew."

She pulls herself back with a smooth grin. "See you at first light, then."

Chapter 6

The hidden chamber has a few more assembled, as promised.

A man with cool hazel eyes and dreads, tied up neatly behind his ears, sits next to Hembry. They are deep in conversation, until Hembry spots me. "Ah! Vash! Welcome back."

The others look up as I sit near Emila. She hands me a pipe, "Thank you."

I take a drag. It tastes floral and sweet. A very specific type of pipeleaf. It's good. I feel a levity in my shoulders and take another drag.

My lungs don't burn from the embers. It seems I'm accustomed to smoking. Either that or it's my tiefling heritage. I can't be sure...

The man next to Hembry breaks away from the conversation. "Vash, it's good to finally meet you. Thank you for organizing this meeting. I'm Aelar."

"First Warden Aelar. It's a pleasure."

"It seems my legend precedes me." He says with a soft chuckle. "Kagha's been talking about me. She's under the impression she has authority over the Grove Wardens. She does not. I lead the Wardens out of necessity, we are volunteers, nothing more."

"Necessity?"

His smile falls slightly. "No one in the Emerald Grove has my experience leading a militia. I was a part of a faction under the Emerald Enclave. We worked to root out the Cult of the Howling Hatred. They were posing as druids, spread across several circles." He recites the information like he's giving me a field report. Empty and even. His eyes become vacant. "They were..." he trails off.

I tap the pipe in my palm, lightly. "Kagha means to position your wardens at the river front after the Rite is complete."

"Is that what she said? I'd call it bold, but it falls in line with her current rhetoric."

"I suggest you take her up on the offer when she approaches you."

Aelar scowls, "I will not put my people in a position where they placate that mad woman's whims."

"Placation can be an effective tool when you don't want to rouse suspicion." I lean forward, arm resting firmly on the oak table. "What do you think she would do if she found out about this little meeting of ours?"

He sits back and looks at the others. A quiet falls across the room as the gravity of the rebellion finally settles.

I take another drag from the hookah, letting the smoke fall from my nostrils. I reach into my cloak and pull the note that Astarion found and place it on the table, pushing it to the center. "This runs deeper than you know."

They each lean forward and read the note.

"By the gods..." Aelar murmurs.

"Olodon?" Emila glances at me. "Do you have any idea who that is?"

"I was going to ask you the same."

She pulls her cloak forward. "Not a clue."

The bewildered faces makes it clear. "An unknown variable." I tip my head to Apikusis. "Do you think you can use your network to get more information on them?"

"You couldn't stop me." She says with a smirk. "Let's see where this thread leads."

Emila's sharp grey eyes focus on me. "Where did you come across this?"

"My rogue." I mutter. "He may have been snooping around where he ought not to be."

"Good," she says. "Keep him off the leash."

"If you knew Astarion, you'd understand how impossible a leash would be." My mind drifts to thoughts of a leashed Astarion.

Emila watches me and pulls a very deep breath of smoke.

I clear my throat. "I'm going to the goblin camp to locate Halsin. I'll be taking my team with me. From there we should have a clearer understanding of what needs to be done next. In the meantime." I focus on Aelar. "I suggest you begin preparing the Wardens. Whatever this is," I gesture toward the note, "it likely won't lead anywhere good. This isn't just Kagha. It's Olodon and whomever stands behind them. We need to be ready for this to escalate."

Aelar sighs and lowers his voice. "I had hoped it wouldn't come to that, but you're right. I'll brief them on what was discussed here. We'll be prepared for what may come to pass."

A hand grips my shoulder. "Vash." Emila leans in. "Master Halsin needs to know what's happening here. If you find him, if he's alive…"

I place my hand over hers, pressing lightly. "If he's alive, I'll find him."

She watches me for a moment before leaning back. "Thank you. Truly."

Chapter 12

The chamber is starting to feel a touch crowded with more druids scattered about. A few conversing near a bookcase in the back of the room. Three more sitting at the table.

Apikusis sits near Hembry, a pigeon landing clumsily on her shoulder. Everyone grows quiet as I enter. Bex looks around and I nod toward the seat intended for me. She settles, pulling back her hood. A few watch her and exchange a few whispers.

"Halsin." I say, breaking the silence. I pull the tuft of bear hair from my pocket and place it on the tabletop. "My ventures to the camp proved fruitful. I found him. Alive."

A few murmurs can be heard.

A halfling man in a modest tunic and slacks speaks up. "Alive and well, I hope." His voice is kind but direct. "But where is he? Why has he not returned?"

My face falls, and I shake my head mournfully. "He made the choice to stay in the goblin camp, despite what I had to say."

The man shakes his head. "Why? Did he give a reason?"

"Arron." Emila says gently. "For the same reason he left in the first place, no doubt. He won't let the threat of the Absolute endanger us. Not after what happened in the Shadow Cursed lands. You know this as well as any of us." She tips her chin down, looking at me. "Fuck us. Right?"

"Fuckery remains to be seen." I say with a smirk. "Halsin requested my assistance to take out the leadership of the cult. I intend to, but it's a tall order. I need time to prepare. In the meantime, he has remained to gather intelligence."

Apikusis snorts, folding her arms tightly. "Intelligence. The most valuable currency in all the realms."

"You know better than anyone."

"I do." She says, "But there's a time and a place for such things. Halsin's decisions as of late have been misguided at best. In leaving, in putting Kagha in charge, in choosing not to return when we need him."

Arron's nostrils flare. "You went through all the trouble, Ser. Put your life on the line to find him. And yet he remains. We should pay you double."

I wave my hand at him. "As discussed, I require no payment for my services. I just want to see the grove at peace once again. It's the least I could do for your hospitality."

"That is..." Arron sits back in his chair. "That's awfully generous of you." He leans toward Emila. "Peace Bringer, indeed." They share a light chuckle.

I lean forward on the oak table, glancing across the unfamiliar faces. "I assume you're all privy to what's going on here?"

A gnome in an antler headdress and white robes speaks. "We all know Kagha and her strange ways, but the Rite of Thorns is a bridge too far. Even for her. No one's been able to talk her down, what options do we have left?"

"Consolidation." I say. "Continue your recruitment efforts but accept that not everyone in this circle will see the light. Make peace with that. Then begin gathering arms."

The room goes quiet.

Hembry has a chalice of some dark drink in his hand. He takes a sip before setting it down, running his hand down his beard. "My prayers to Silvanus have been answered in earnest. I've heard his voice telling me you are the one who will break the shadowed blight of Kagha's blasphemy. You will herald a peace that will not only let us survive, but thrive."

A pale-skinned woman clad in bark armor studies me. The sharp angles of her face give her an intensity unique among the druids here. She turns to Hembry, speaking in a dulcet tone. "Have your prayers shown us that this is the only way? Do we really need to rebel? Isn't there a better way?"

Hembry picks up the chalice once more. "I am not the one to give that answer, Warden Maylee." He takes a sip and glances at me.

I rise from the table slowly and make my way to her. She watches me as I crouch to her level. "Warden Maylee. Thank you for trusting me enough to be here today. I sense you have questions, and more importantly, ideas. If there is a better way, we all need to know before we act."

Maylee stammers. "I..." She looks at Hembry and shakes her head. "No, I just thought..."

Aelar steps behind her, placing a gentle palm on her shoulder.

She glances at him and continues. "Can't we try to talk to her again? Maybe we can refuse to work until she listens? Maybe we can-"

"A valid tactic that takes time." I say gently. "Maylee."

She meets my eye and I give her a piteous smile.

"You have no time."

Aelar murmurs. "May Silvanus have mercy on us all."

I rest my hand on her knee before lifting myself and looking around.

"I have a lead on the location mentioned in the note. A willow, just west of here." I glance at Bex. Her legs are crossed and her hands rest neatly in her lap, shoulders leaning comfortably on the back of the chair. She gives me a subtle nod.

"The Willow?" Apikusis scoffs. "What do you expect to find out there?"

"I can only speculate, but it's a lead that cannot be ignored, given what we're up against."

"Then one of us should come with you." Maylee's expression is strangely composed.

"No." Emila says flatly. "Having someone vanish while under Kagha's watch could expose the entire operation."

Apikusis purses her lips. "Does anyone in your party know how to scout? That area is treacherous. Not something I'd suggest walking into blind."

I consider my companions. Astarion most certainly does not. Gale, no. Shadowheart is incredibly resourceful. Her and Lae'zel would be the most competent for this particular mission, but even so, they're no scouts.

"I'm a ranger." Bex's voice cuts the silence. Several people turn to her. "I'd been scouting along the river road for my father's caravan up until the descent." Her brow creases slightly, and her tail dusts the ground behind her, pensive. "Swamps are no stranger to me."

"You're offering your services? After everything you've been through? This isn't the River Road. We're truly in the wilds out here."

"It's not even a question, Vash."

Arron's mouth opens slightly before he speaks with a light tone. "Another tiefling, willing to help the very people pushing you out?"

Bex turns to him. "Our cause is singular. Let's not dilute it with the fanatical rhetoric of the people we're trying to stop."

"I'd be a fool to turn you down." I'm unable to hide a faint smile. "We'll head out at once. How far is the Willow from here?"

"A day's journey, with guidance." Apikusis gives Bex an encouraging nod. "Bring your nicer boots, it will get muddy."

Bex leaves first, making her way out of the grove, unnoticed.

Apikusis walks with me to a wooden elevator that leads out of the inner sanctum.

She steps close to me and murmurs low between us as the elevator rises. "Olodon has been in communication with Kagha for some time, it seems. Kagha's position as First Druid is no accident. Halsin was being fed false information regarding her background. Kagha's been his apprentice for five years now. What he was told was that she came from a decorated Enclave family. Her parents were Autumnreavers who died fighting the Cult of the Dragon."

Apikusis looks up at me. "This is a lie."

The elevator slows to a stop at the cliff's ledge. A path to our right bends forward toward the ivy gate. To our left the cliff looks over a vast valley carved out by the Chionthar.

"I haven't been able to figure out where the fuck she came from, but there is no record of her family ever being a part of any Emerald Enclave militia."

Apikusis turns toward the valley. The waters flow by, unbothered by the turmoil growing along its banks.

I stand next to her; hands folded thoughtfully behind my back, my fingers twitching again. "So, Halsin has been training a fraud."

"It's strange to understand why something happened and still be baffled by the outcome." She laughs lightly to herself. "If that makes any sense."

The sun's heat rises as noon approaches. I glance down at her and imagine what her body might sound like hitting rocks from this height. Would it bounce?

"It does." My eyes are fixed on her. "All the more reason to remove her."

Her face falls. "A shame."

"It is the nature of things, isn't it? Are you prepared for that?"

She is quiet for a moment. Her eyes settle on the grove. The prayers of the Rite continue in the shade of the surrounding trees. The power of Silvanus swirls through the air.

"You said this may not end cleanly, and the more we learn, the more I understand."

She places a hand on my arm and my shoulder twitches. Her feet only a meter from the edge.

"Vash, as silly as it may be, you are a Peace Bringer." Her voice drops. "Do what must be done."

Chapter 20

I sit quietly next to Emila, lounging against her coiled body. I pull a drag from the hookah and exhale deeply, feeling calmer than I have since waking on that fucking Nautiloid.

We can hear a pin drop in the chamber. Astarion is clad in his leather armor, myriad knives hidden beneath a fine black cloak. He's bent over several sheets of paper, scribbling with an intensity I never thought him capable of.

Of the many druids packed into the chamber, legs are shaking, bodies are shifting.

Everyone is waiting.

Bex has a hand on a bookcase, leaning pensively, eyes fixed on the dusty tomes. Gustav is nestled on her shoulder.

Hembry is holding hands with a circle of six druids, muttering a prayer.

We finally see a body entering. Aelar and his Grove Wardens fill the gaps in the chamber. He shuffles his way to the table. "Sorry for our tardiness, we had some last-minute differences of opinion with a few of my Wardens."

Languid curls of smoke drift from my nose. "Was it dealt with?"

He says nothing but gives a modest nod.

I set the hookah pipe down as Emila hoists me to my feet.

"Bex." I nod her over to the table. She squeezes her way through and stands next to me.

Her eyes sweep across the gathered druids. "Our lead was fruitful and yielded some very interesting information. Information we may have suspected all along." She pulls out the note and lays it on the table. "Apikusis was able to verify its provenance through her network."

"I deserve little credit. I have an invaluable team." Apikusis beams with pride, a rat standing vigil on the table in front of her. "To think we were wasting our time being simple couriers."

Bex places a hand on her shoulder. "I commend you for what you've built in such a short time."

Hembry lifts himself in his seat. "All of this has shown us the truth of it. We can no longer rely on the old ways. Times are changing. The threat of the Absolute has far greater implications than anything we've faced in a millennium. Shar. The Cult of the Howling Hatred..."

"Shadow Druids." My words cut through the room, and everything falls silent.

Hembry's breath catches and he slowly sits back.

I tap my claw on the note before them. "This all leads back to Archdruid Aelis."

"Aelis." Aelar says sharply. "It can't be…"

"You know them?"

"Yes… she… she was my cousin. Gone for years, we thought she was dead." Aelar leans forward, hanging his head. "By Silvanus's Mercy. Death would have been more forgiving than to learn she took up with the Shadow Druids."

"I'm sorry you had to learn this way. Perhaps once everything is said and done we can bring her back to the light."

He becomes withdrawn. "Perhaps. Though I've seen the nature of cultists. Cleansing their mind of their ideologies is nearly impossible, and her being Archdruid. No…" He looks at his wardens. "Archdruid Aelis is just another Shadow Druid. She's trying to take the grove. Cut us off. Keep us against our will or kill us outright. We will not let that stand."

Maylee gets to her feet. "How can you say that about your own family? This isn't who you are!"

He shifts his weight, turning his attention to her. Her face is twisted, the fear, the uncertainty.

"Maylee. I know what you've been through. We've all been through enough to know how these things go. She is my cousin, yes, and I love her dearly. If we have a chance then of course I will do everything in my power to save her from herself. But we cannot afford to be unrealistic. Too much is at stake. I'm sorry if this ruins the image you had of me, but these are dire times. Don't lose the run of yourself now. I need you."

She slowly sits back down and says no more.

"Shadow Druids." My voice reclaims the silence. "What do we know of them? Power-hungry isolationists. Ready to use subterfuge to infiltrate a verdant grove. Violent towards outsiders. They are... distasteful."

Apikusis snorts, "A fantastic understatement."

Gustav flutters to perch on a stiff root protruding from an earthen wall.

Bex leans firmly on the table. "My father and I often heard stories of Shadow Druids ambushing merchant caravans just outside of Cloakwood. It has become infamous. Caravans have taken to booby trapping their carts or sending decoys to stave off attacks on the more valuable merchandise. The Shadow Druids primarily take food and fibers: cotton, wool, and silk. Rarely weapons and gold, yet they are always armed with fine simitars. Their smiths must be legendary."

"It seems they favor guerilla tactics." I say, "Hidden in plain sight."

Aelar's voice grows shallow and he mutters, almost to himself. "Not again."

Maylee swiftly rises, placing her chair behind Aelar.

He takes it with a weary smile.

Her hand presses softly on his shoulder. "Don't lose the run of yourself."

"I'll be okay." He grips his knees and focuses on the people around him. "...hidden in plain sight."

I pull Fezzerk's axe from my back. "We need to move quickly. Take the chanters first. Anyone else who resists must be subdued. This is not negotiable. We will give them a chance to speak."

I set the axe on the table.

"Individuals that cannot be swayed must be culled or their rhetoric will spread. We cannot let that happen."

Maylee takes a sharp breath in; eyes locked on the golden blade of the great axe.

Apikusis rubs her forehead. "This was supposed to just be a conversation with Kagha."

"Is that what you genuinely believed when you brought me in?"

She grips her elbows. "No." She's fixed on me with even eyes. "I know better."

Aelar reaches forward, grabbing the hilt of the axe.

I quickly put my hand over his. "Do not take the axe unless you are able to wield it, First Warden."

His grip tightens as he waits for my release. I do, and he slowly drags the axe toward him. "I take up the mantle, in the name of Silvanus. May the Peace Bringer bear witness to my vow. I will cut the blight that threatens the life of our verdant grove. We demand balance. As is our way." He brings the axe into his lap.

"Bex, Astarion, Emila, and I will face Kagha. When the time comes, we will bring her forth to face the circle."

A murmur moves through the room. "Outsiders..."

"Root out any Shadow Druids you can. In the meantime, go home. Prepare. Bex and I need time to clear the hollow. Mid-morning, gather in the inner sanctum. Look for us at the stone archway. We'll give the signal. A snap. Clean. Simple. Innocuous. Then we move and reclaim the peace that is rightfully yours."

Soft voices rise once again.

"It's time."

"Are we ready?"

"We have to be."

"Enough of the Rite."

Hembry stands and the room falls silent once again. "I think we've all felt it. Our cause has been consecrated. Today, the Oak Father is watching, and the Peace Bringer fights at our side."

Bex and I walk the hollow. A serenity shared between us.

"It's happening." She breathes. "It's actually happening. I would never have imagined."

Children laugh as they dart past us along the path. The tieflings have already started to make their way to Zevlor's chamber.

I glance down at her. "Thank you for offering your services to the cause. I don't think we could have found that note without you."

She laughs lightly. "Please, I hardly did anything. "

"You're right. I take it back, then."

She gawks at me and shoves me playfully.

I laugh, but bump into a boy who had been trying to pass. He's knocked into the dirt.

"Nnnnngh!” He's landed on his rear but is no worse for wear.

"Sorry, lad." I offer my hand.

He doesn't take it. He lifts himself up and dusts himself off. He looks at his open palms. Filthy.

I pull a kerchief from my pocket and offer it to him. "What's your name?"

He takes it and diligently wipes his hands. He says nothing.

Bex and I share a glance, and the boy begins to run off but stops abruptly only a few paces away. He returns, holding the kerchief up to me.

"Keep it, your hands may get dirty again." I say with a wry smile.

He's facing me, but he seems to be looking past me. "Ngh." He hums. He pulls the kerchief back and gives us a low and dramatic bow before running off again.

"Doni.” Bex says. “He's a good kid, but he's a mute."

"A mute?" I watch him dash up a ladder as we continue down the path. The kerchief is sticking out of his back pocket. He joins the other children for some swordplay. The sound of wooden blades clink together as they battle. "He seems to have a voice, perhaps he has nothing to say."

"Perhaps. I haven't heard him speak since our journey started."

We make it to the platform of Bex's camp.

She climbs.

"If I were in his position, I wouldn't have much to say either." I murmur.

Danis sits on a crate with a knife, carefully carving away at a block of wood. He has yet to join the others. He sees Bex and grows cold in his seat.

She gives him a light peck on the cheek. “Love, I’m going to need you to remain with Zevlor for a bit.”

“Yes." Danis's face hardens into defiance. "I heard something might be afoot. What’s going on?"

“I cannot discuss it in detail, but there is trouble in the grove. I don't want you getting caught up in it.”

"Me? And you're going to, what, dash right into the middle of this trouble?"

"It's what Vash and I have been working on. Please, just go with Zevlor."

“Is that what you’ve been doing this whole time?” He glances down at me and his voice grows quiet. "I thought..." His words fall short, and the tension that had been binding his shoulders seems to melt away, though not entirely.

"Go." Bex says with a kind smile. "I'll be okay. I promise."

"If something is happening in the grove, I deserve to know what it is. Please, stop keeping things from me." He says with a patient desperation.

Bex falls silent, the spade of her tail rests lightly on the ground. "I'm sorry Danis. I can't."

"I see." His eyes drop, and the air seems to leave the space between them. He slowly gets to his feet, clutching his whittling knife and wood. He places them in a rucksack, slings it over his shoulder, and climbs down. "Zevlor's chamber, right?"

She nods.

He presses his lips together, watching her a moment more before getting himself to safety.

Bex climbs down and watches him leave. She's pensive, like she's watching something slip through her fingers. Something she's letting go.

I step next to her. She doesn't acknowledge me. She doesn't need to.

"Well, if it isn't the busy beavers."

A snarky voice catches us from behind. We turn to see a child with an eyepatch standing with her arms folded. Self-assured and entitled to our attention.

"What's this I hear about the grove? The others have been whispering about it." She leans in with a muddy scowl. "I hate being kept in the dark, but you two have been hard to track down."

"Possibly because we only just arrived back in the Hollow. I'm Vash, what's your name?"

"Mol. Now quit wasting my time and tell me what's going on."

The lip on this child.

"All you need to know is you need to be in the chamber with Zevlor."

She scoffs. "Me and my kids aren't going into that death hole. If something goes down we've got a much better place to be."

Bex crouches. "Mol, wherever this Dragons Lair is of yours, it can't be safer than with the rest of the caravan."

"Of course it's safer. You can't tell me where it is, and I like you."

There's no greater honor than to be liked by a feral cat.

"Then I suggest you get the others to the Dragons Lair, quickly." I say. "Don't come out until the evening. Can you do that?"

"Yeah." She puts a hand on her hip. "Just make sure things don't get messy. Okay?"

"Messy." I'm not sure what qualifies as messy. "Right. We'll keep it clean."

Mol presses her fingers to her lips and lets out a sharp whistle. The children take off down the path, laughing and hollering.

Doni is one of the last. He has his kerchief in hand and awkwardly waves it at us before bolting after the others.

With the hollow cleared we head back to the grove. The team of six tiefling guards sit patiently up the path from the archway that leads into the inner sanctum.

Tilses and Kaldani stand among them.

"Thank you for volunteering." I say, getting their attention. "Despite not knowing exactly what you've volunteered for. The truth of it is this. The Rite of Thorns doesn't just threaten the caravan, it threatens the druids themselves. Of course, in matters such as this, there is dissent."

Kaldani has propped herself on an ox cart, hovering over the others. "Dissent. So that's what's going on."

"Precisely. Unfortunately, diplomacy did not work. This is the only option you have left. I expect you to protect the hollow from any druids that may try to leave the inner sanctum." I study the tieflings watching me, silent. "Are you prepared to defend the caravan?"

"Yes!" Tilses says, standing as a proud paladin.

The others stand with her. A few nervous glances are exchanged, but most pull their weapons.

Kaldani hops down, gripping her crossbow. "The bastards won't be getting by us."

An armored man places a hand on Bex's shoulder. "Are you going in there? Among the madness?"

"I'll be okay, Ikaron. I've been preparing for this."

He looks despondent but gives Bex a nod.

The tieflings form a line we make our way to the stone arch entrance of the inner sanctum.

We stand before the guards who have their quarter staffs held tight, blocking our path. They glance at one another as a hush falls across the grove. Bex and I hold our position. I look down at her. Her cloak sitting neatly across her shoulders, hands tucked into her broad sleeves, chin high, eyes focused. She's scanning the beach beyond the ritual site.

We finally see him. Astarion rises from the stone steps that lead to the beach. He's completed his work and steps lightly onto the soft grass of the inner sanctum.

I feel a static rise within me as a faint smirk crosses my face. I'm holding my hands tight behind my back, but I feel them tremble in anticipation.

Bex raises her hand high, and the guards are locked onto her with a held breath.

She snaps.

The inner sanctum falls still. Then a druid rushes one of the chanters. He throws a bag over her head and drags her away.

A scream rips through the air and the chanters scatter.

The few druids who've remained loyal to Kagha are suddenly swarmed by the rebels. They are armed and fight back, though they are quickly outnumbered.

I lean down to Bex and point toward an elder druid. He is wildly swinging his shillelagh, cracking one of the rebels across the face before being tackled, gagged, and bound. "That's what blind conviction looks like. The death throes of stubborn men."

She glances at me and gently rests her hand on her chest.

A loyalist is chased and cornered between two ancient pillars. She sprays a cloud of poison at the advancing rebels. One man catches it in his throat and falls, choked by the assault. A woman with raven hair kneels by his side. He gasps and grips his throat. He's taken away, and the raven-haired woman stands with a reckless fury.

She pulls loose her quarterstaff and lunges at the loyalist. They clash staffs, but the loyalist is quickly overpowered. With a single crack of her quarterstaff, the raven-haired woman bludgeons the loyalist in the back of her head. She drops and goes still.

Bex remains focused, watching, studying.

A few druids rush past us, bumping into my shoulder as they go.

Aelar shouts from across the sanctum. "Don't let them escape!"

They disappear up the trail toward the tiefling guards. I find them caught. One of the druids lies writhing on the ground with a crossbow bolt in his hip.

The other druid is being restrained, but he summons a burning light that sears the skin of one of the guards. She drops and rolls out of the beam. Holding out her arms, blisters quickly form and she begins to tremble.

"Mragreshem..." She says in a quaking voice.

Bex jogs up to her and pulses a healing light that soothes her, though she remains blistered.

The druid pulls free and bolts toward the hollow.

I break out into a sprint after the man.

"Grovel!"

The spell rushes through him. He staves it off, but his body is staggered from fighting the spell. His knees hit the dirt.

I'm on him at once, gripping his hair, but his body begins to break and contort. My feet leave the ground as he rises below me, a bear.

I can't help but feel like my grip has become comically ineffectual...

He snaps at me but can't reach as I cling to his neck. I pull my greatsword and drive it into the beast's ribs. He bucks and stands, finally throwing me to the ground. He reels around and roars, spittle flying in anguish and fury. I snap my fingers and a clap of thunder detonates next to his head. He drops and huffs, blood dribbling from his ear. He tries to find his footing but falters, slowly shifting back into a man. My sword is planted firmly through his chest. Without the strength of the bear, he can only climb to his knees with a wheezing breath.

As I pull my blade free he looks at me and slumps forward. I catch him and throw him over my shoulder. The tiefling guards approach me. Touching my arm and giving me a nod of solace.

I carry him back to the inner sanctum, laying him out in front of the captives. They've been gathered in front of the altar of Silvanus.

Quiet murmurs hush through the sanctum, as the insurrection settles. Bex and Emila approach.

Bex remains silent but places a hand on my arm.

"Aelar and the other wardens." Emila settles. Her cold grey eyes measure the quiet devastation around her. "They've gone to the tunnels, like you suggested. We should go."

Emila moves and I begin to follow, but notice Bex lingering.

The wounded and the dead mingle with the surviving rebels.

She closes her eyes.

"Bex?" I step next to her.

She's still for a moment more before glancing up at me. "Emila's right. We should go."

As she follows her to the Druid's Chamber, I look around the sanctum.

Haunted faces of people drift across the verdant grass. The ebony haired woman kneels next to the poisoned man, clinging to his hand. A couple embraces, the man sobbing on his partner's shoulder.

They are free, and only now seeing the cost of that freedom.

Hembry gathers a small group and begins guiding them in prayer.

"The walls of iniquity will not pull us into an imbalance that consumes this sacred circle. In our twilight hour, Silvanus will answer.

By blessing or else by blood."

"By blessing or else by blood." The congregation echoes.

"Silvanus has chosen his instrument of balance. Blessed be the Peace Bringer. A promise. A sign."

The chill of the Druid's Chamber cuts cleanly after the heat of the coup behind us. It feels like stepping into another world. But it's too quiet.

We enter the main chamber. The stone table sits empty, then shouts rise from the library.

I go. Astarion and Bex keep pace and Emila follows, swiftly.

The door to the hidden tunnel is open, but Kagha, Rath, and a short man with ragged umber hair are all blocked from entering the cavern.

"Where are they?!" Aelar's voice echoes across the room. His footing is steadfast, hands firmly gripping the golden axe. His wardens stand ready behind him.

"Emila, the door." I pull my greatsword, readying myself for what may come.

She charges back and swiftly closes off the only other exit.

Kagha's scimitars hang low in her grip, her face pinched with fury, and desperation.

"Out of my way! You've all gone mad. I will not suffer the indignity of being usurped when all I was trying to do was protect you!"

"You're delusional." Aelar leans in. "You always have been."

"Kagha." My voice catches her.

"You! Is it you who have turned my circle against me?"

She looks to Aelar. "This is why we can't trust outsiders. Look at us! We are kin and yet you stand against me."

Aelar steps forward. "Sealing ourselves off from the world is not the answer."

"It is the only answer."

"You cannot believe that. You speak of outsiders with hatred, and yet you welcome Shadow Druids into our grove."

"They are not outsiders. They know Silvanus's will. They feel it. You listen to Hembry as if he were the avatar of Silvanus himself, but he is just a fool with false prophecies. His head is addled from too much drink."

Aelar's jaw tightens. "Blasphemy."

Something presses against my foot. A rat, sniffing around my boot. The faintest trace of the Weave ripples around it.

My heel cracks down on it. With a flash of light, and a fizzle of shadow magic, it erupts into a druid. He's a halfling, wearing dark raiments, decorated in auburn leaves.

"The rats!"

Astarion becomes alert. "My specialty." He dives, snatching another rat and slamming his dagger into it. A grey-haired halfling woman emerges from wildshape. He holds the blade under her chin and she raises her hands.

Bex drops, snatching the tail on another rat. She twists its neck and a final Shadow Druid bursts forth. She lets out a cry, trapped in Bex's arms.

The man below me grits his teeth as I lean onto him. "Where is Olodon?"

He growls and claws at my foot.

I place the tip of my sword carefully at the center of his throat and begin to press. The skin creases beneath my blade.

"N-no!" Warm blood trickles down his neck.

"Stop!" The grey-haired woman's voice stays my hand. "I'm Olodon."

Kagha cries in desperation. "Mistress, no!" She stumbles toward her.

Astarion presses the dagger against Olodon's skin and she breathes in sharply.

Kagha freezes.

Rath moves in and seizes her. I toss him a length of rope. His brow pinched as he binds her wrists.

"You've seen the light. Did you know about the Shadow Druids?"

"No... I would have never agreed to this if I had known they were involved."

"Yet, the Rite was salvation when it served your needs."

His face twists. "I didn't mean to put anyone in danger. I... wasn't thinking."

"An interesting blunder to make."

The man below me is all but gripping my blade. I drive it through his throat.

There is a blink of light and from the corner of my eye, I see Bex train her crossbow on me. Her bolt catches me in the shoulder. I clutch the shaft, then feel something crack against the back of my head. I double over, and several wardens tackle a man behind me.

Rath stammers. "Markoryl!"

Bex drops the crossbow and dashes to me, reaching out a hand. "Vash. I didn't mean to hit you! I thought I had a clear shot. I'm..." I snatch her wrist and she inhales sharply.

"Leave it."

Markoryl is being held by three wardens. I approach and give them a nod. They release him.

"Take the prisoners to the inner sanctum. Leave us."

Markoryl stands, staring at me with a contempt. The moment the door to the chamber closes my fist cracks against his jaw. I grip his hair and drag him in front of Bex. "A clear shot." He staggers to his knees, blood running from his nose and lip.

"Vash, this is..." She whispers.

"You were willing to kill him a moment ago. I'm giving you the opportunity now. What do you want to do with him?"

She looks into my eyes, searching my face. "Are you really asking me to do this?"

I wait.

Her attention turns to the bolt in my shoulder. Her mouth opens and closes. Her face falls flat and she drives a dagger into his throat. There was no hesitation once the decision was made. She pulls the blade and I release him. He falls, fading quietly on the stone floor.

"Well executed." I say under my breath. My grip tightens around the bolt shaft. With a held breath I rip it from my shoulder, letting out a stiff exhale. I drop it with a clatter and take a moment to catch my breath.

She studies the body below her. "This wasn't a fair fight. It was an execution."

"Is there a difference?"

"Yes, Vash." She snaps. "One is earned. This," she bends down and places fingers against his arm. "This was not."

"Then why did you do it?"

She looks at me, sharply. "You really don't know what you do to people, do you? What you do to me."

She brushes past me and I reach for her but quickly pull my hand back. She leaves without a second glance.

Rath stands behind Kagha looking sickened as he scans the sea of faces in front of him.

I nod toward Astarion, who pushes Olodon toward Aelar.

He catches her and pushes her to her knees in front of him.

The voices of the crowd fall.

He places his boot on Olodon's back and she pitches forward with a grunt, legs splayed awkwardly. "Careful!" She snaps with a naive indignity.

Aelar hands me the golden axe, and I face the crowd.

"Today carries the weight of what peace costs in a world with no compassion.

You demonstrated an unequivocal resolve.

You heard the words of Silvanus.

Witness me, as you begin again."

The axe reflects the light of the day; my focus is singular.

Olodon begins to struggle beneath him. "No! What are you doing!?"

"By His will. By my hand."

The sound is a hush of metal and flesh. Her head rolls forward and the druids step back, as it settles at their feet.

A man in the crowd falls to his knees and retches into the grass. A murmur rises before Kagha's wailing rattles the air. She collapses beside Rath, breathless with grief.

After a moment, I hear a faint voice among the shifting bodies. "Wh-When will Halsin be back?"

I search the crowd for the voice. "May the man who asked step forward."

He steps forward, hesitant and shuffling.

"What is your name?"

His stare is downcast as he approaches. "Derrok, Ser." He briefly glances at Olodon's head before quickly looking away with a shudder.

"Derrok." I hand the axe back to Aelar before approaching him. My hand rests gently on his shoulder. "Halsin is alive and well, but he has chosen to remain in the goblin camp. I cannot say when he will return."

Derrok hangs his head and nods.

"I offer to serve as guardian until he does."

He is quiet, finally meeting my eye. The tension in his shoulder seems to uncoil. "I... I cannot feel safe in the grove if we are left to fend for ourselves."

I give his shoulder a squeeze. "Go and be at peace."

The man reluctantly returns to the crowd.

Aelar steps aside as he pushes Olodon's body clear. The last Shadow Druid is knelt before me. I pin her to the ground with my boot. Positioning her for Aelar.

Aelar's chin curls as he cleaves her neck. No breath. No mercy.

"Well executed." I murmur. He looks at me sharply and I clear my throat. "Apologies." I say, turning to the nearest prisoner. One of the chanters.

She is trembling beneath her hood as I kneel next to her. Quiet sobs stutter between her breaths.

"You've made a mistake. You realize that by now."

Another quiet sob rises from her and she nods haltingly.

"I offer you mercy. Return to your circle. Abandon this folly."

She lets out a heavy sob, falling forward. "Bless you, Ser. Please."

I gently untie her. Her body is still, but her hands tremble violently as she brings them to her front. I remove her hood and see cheeks drenched in tears.

She looks at me. "Y-you... you're that stranger from the hollow."

"Breathe with me." I take her hand into mine.

Her chin quivers and we take a breath and stand.

Staggering back to her circle, a woman dashes up to her, grabbing her shoulders. "Gretta!" She touches her cheek and embraces her. "Thank Silvanus."

Gretta's soft sobs return, burying her face in the woman's thick curled hair. "I'm sorry."

A smile crosses my face before I turn to the next prisoner. An older man. "Will you allow me to guide you?"

He is quiet for a moment before I hear stilted words rattle from under the hood. "I could never follow a man like you."

A panicked breath rises from the crowd.

"Karrik."

"Karrik, no! You don't understand!"

"I could never disrespect the wishes of a principled man." I place my boot on his back.

Silence, as Aelar waits. I give the nod and the man swiftly cries. "Wait!"

The axe cleaves and he goes limp beneath me.

An elder woman lets out a wail and collapses.

Hands rush to comfort her.

"He knew. He knew, Elwyn."

"It is the will of Silvanus."

The woman clings to them and has lost her breath for wailing.

Of the three remaining loyalists only one chooses to save themselves.

Kagha lies sobbing. I retrieve Olodon's head before kneeling in front of her, voice quiet and measured. "Kagha." I unbind her and bring her to stand. She's barely able to support her own weight.

"Take the head to Cloakwood. Find your circle. Let them see the fate of those who stand against me." I press the head into her hands. A sharp haunted gasp escapes her as she tries to drop it.

I hold her wrists. "Look at her, Kagha." My grip tightens until her skin turns white. "Do not hide from what you've done."

Her eyes are locked on the cold mask of Olodon, her face wet from tears.

My hand presses her shoulder. "May Silvanus guide you on your journey." I look to Aelar. "Take her."

The crowd follows as he drags her through the ivy gate and casts her out, tossing a rucksack at her feet. The circle bearing witness.

"An apt fate." I speak. "Facing the dangers you wished to cast upon the innocent. May this be a new dawning for the Emerald Grove. Balance will prevail. By blessing... or else by blood."

The voices of the circle rise. "By blessing or else by blood."

Chapter 21

Rath sits at the stone table in the Druid's Chamber. His shoulders drawn up as I hover over him.

Astarion elegantly places a slip of paper in front of him, handing him a quill and a well of ink. "Sign here, darling. That's all we need from you."

Emila has perched herself across the table and is smoking a long pipe. The fragrance of pipeleaf mingles with the scent of blood.

"I-I don't understand. What is this about?"

Emila pulls the pipe from her lips. "This is your new role, Rath. As Acting First Druid, you will be giving Vash temporary Stewardship over the Emerald Grove."

He stares at her and says nothing.

I lean down. "Until Halsin returns, of course. This is necessary if you wish to remain stable in light of the dangers pressing in on the grove."

He picks up the slip of paper and reads it carefully. "That is... reasonable. I suppose." He says, slowly. "You've already shown what you're willing to do to keep us protected, and I can't thank you enough for it."

He sets the paper down flat and signs, though hesitantly.

Ordinance of the Emerald Grove.

By the authority vested in the Druidic Circle of the Emerald Grove, the undersigned do hereby grant Temporary Stewardship of the Emerald Grove to Vash Neel.

The authority of this station shall encompass the Emerald Grove, its associated lands, and all druidic circles occupied therein.

The duties of the Steward shall include but not be limited to: asset management, resource delegation, civil coordination, and command authority over any organized or voluntary militia operating within said jurisdiction.

This decree shall remain in effect until the return of First Druid Halsin, at which time the Stewardship shall be subject to review.

Signed,

Rath M. Coria - Acting First Druid of the Emerald Grove

Witnessed,

Emila R. Szaide

Prepared and Presented by,

Astarion Ancunín - Magistrate of Baldur's Gate

Astarion pulls a ring on a chain from his pocket. He looks at the signate embossed into it and goes quiet for a moment.

"I can't believe after all this time, I finally get to use it again."

His mouth hangs open slightly, holding back words too painful to say. He finally lights a candle, dripping the wax onto the corner of the paper and pressing his signate into it.

"There." He says with a satisfied breath. "Simple."

The light from the inner sanctum cracks through the door as Bex enters the Druid's Chamber.

I step around the chamber and meet her by the stairs. "Are you alright?" I whisper.

"Yes." She says wearily. "Let's just finish up here."

"Of course." I hesitate, but return with her to the table.

A large grey wolf has taken a seat next to Rath. He scratches it lovingly on the side of the neck. The wolf stares at me, unblinking as I sit between Rath and Emila. Bex leans on the table next to me, arms folded tight against her chest.

"Let's begin by coordinating regular provisions for my party." I defer to Emila. "I'll be expecting a delivery every third day. Along with a quarter of the grove's earnings as an allowance for my services."

"A tenth of the grove's earnings." She says, slowly tucking her hand across her body. "It should be simple to coordinate a regular supply run. How many are in your party?"

"Five."

"Seven." Bex corrects.

I glance at her.

"We have plenty to speak about later."

Emila shifts her gaze from Bex to me, then glances at Astarion who is oblivious and bored at the far end of the table.

"Seven." I say.

"Deliveries? Earnings?" Rath presses his hand into the wolf's fur, looking to Emila.

I speak flatly. "Is there a problem?"

"...Of course not. I'll organize the deliveries."

"Don't bother." Emila says. "It will be better if that's something I manage."

Rath motions to speak but I interject. "I expect a report every morning on the affairs of the grove. Crop yields, fishing hauls, daily earnings, any hint of dissent. I won't have the circle falling into madness again. These people need structure. Do you think you can handle that?"

"Yes." He mutters. "I'll reach out to Aron and Derrok."

"Speak to Apikusis and Aelar about holding order." I sigh and glance at the wolf. "Are you going to introduce me?"

Rath blinks. "Oh. Oh yes! This is Silver."

"Nice to meet you, Silver."

The wolf doesn't respond, remaining locked onto me.

I tap my claw on the table before moving on. "Do you have stores?"

Rath opens his mouth, but Emila slides around the table. "Yes, they’re just through Nettie’s chamber." She leads us through, taking a stone placard from Nettie's things and sliding over to a wolf statue.

Rath shuffles behind us, arms loose at his sides. Quiet.

She places the stone placard in a recess on a pedestal. A blue light begins to fill the cracks in the stone, illuminating the carvings on the statue. It turns and begins sinking into the ground, revealing a hidden staircase in the most dramatic fashion.

Druids.

We make our way into a room lined with crates. Provisions, Potions… Paraphernalia. I see a glaive lying across a table in the back.

Rath sees me eyeing it. "Ah yes. Sorrow. Not one we recommend touching."

I pick it up and measure the weight in my hands. Decent enough. Balanced. "What does it do?"

Rath looks at me bewildered, horrified. "Do you not feel it?"

"What, exactly, should I be feeling?"

"The pain of a haunted past. That glaive belonged to one of our former arch druids, and before him a man named Ketherik Thorm."

"Thorm." I repeat with a sharp tone.

Emila drifts next to me. "A man who used to have dominion over the border lands of the grove. I remember the days when he followed the light of Selûne. He, ironically, turned to Shar. Or rather, predictably. Selûne and Shar are two sides of the same coin."

She mouths the tip of her pipe. "Grief can be a potent narcotic, though I've seen men lose their mind over less." Her eyes settle on the glaive in my hands.

Rath shakes his head. "I have seen many men collapse under the weight of their heavy hearts when trying to wield that glaive."

Astarion glances at it. "Seems a bit clumsy to have a glaive hold a curse of sadness. I’d imagine something more discrete would be preferable." His fingertips aimlessly brush against it and he stops.

I wait for a reaction. Wailing, clawing, gnashing of teeth. "Astarion?"

He says nothing and abruptly leaves. He doesn't run, merely makes his exit with a firm certainty.

"Mm." I strap the glaive to my back but notice Bex, wary, staring at it. No. She's staring at me.

I turn to the table once more and pick up a robe folded neatly at the center of the table. It is unusually warm and feels comforting to the touch. Gale. He could use some clean robes. Two small stones tumble out beneath it. "What are these?"

Rath nods. "Sending stones, we’ve been holding onto them for the occasions they are needed. We’re lucky to have them."

I tuck them into my pocket.

Bex huddles next to Emila. "Have you heard anything regarding Nettie's whereabouts?"

Emila sighs. "Gods... Nettie. No, there's been no trace of her."

"It's been enough time. Start reaching out to circles you’re allied with and see if you can bring in a new Healer. That should be your top priority."

"Prudent. I’ll begin sending notes right away."

Rath stammers. "As First Druid, I should have a say on how we proceed."

We each look at him and his posture shifts as he slowly sinks into himself.

He says nothing further.

Chapter 22 [The Day After the Coup]

Rath is sulking at the stone table, staring blankly at the myriad notes laid out before him, untouched. The bodies of the shadow druids are still festering in the library. The blood scent has only grown more pungent.

"Bex, get them to clean this place up. This isn’t doing him any favors."

She takes in the sight of the bodies and shakes her head, jogging out to fetch someone.

I sit across from him. "Good morning, Rath."

He doesn’t stir. I wait for him to speak.

"Rath."

A low, hoarse murmur falls into his lap. "This is wrong."

"Wrong?"

"This. This isn’t how things are done. As first druid, I have sole authority over this circle."

I lean back in the chair, pulling a dagger from my cloak. "You signed over authority to me yesterday. Willingly."

"We will give you one more delivery of provisions, and some coin so that you may make it to Baldur’s Gate, but we will not be continually funding your crusade. The Emerald Grove will stand as it always has. Under the authority of the First Druid, under the guiding arms of Silvanus."

"Generous as your offer is, this is not what you agreed to."

His jaw tightens. "Yesterday was... a lot. That doesn't mean I should let you extort us just because you cleared out a few Shadow Druids."

"Is that all I did?"

I slam the blade into a stack of books. He jumps.

I rise, pressing my hands onto the table. "You seem to assume this arrangement was optional." I lean forward. "It is not."

I see Silver briskly jog up to Rath, planting himself next to him. His eyes are locked onto me.

Rath presses his hand into him. "Please, don't get involved."

Silver's voice hums dangerously. "You don't sense it. I do. There is blood in his soul."

"You need to bring your human to heel, Silver. His outbursts will have consequences."

Silver snaps. "You have no right to be here! It’s your kind that Kagha was trying to keep out! Kagha sought to shield. She was misguided but not wrong. Now we are under the boot of a tyrant with a devil’s face."

My fist slams into his head and he lets out a sharp yelp, dashing off to the servants’ quarters.

"Silver!" Rath staggers to his feet.

My fingers snap, engulfing him in a purple rune. His body freezes in a magical hold. His arms are held up, blocking his face.

I approach him, pulling another dagger from my cloak. "Let him sleep it off."

I take in every crease of disquiet on his pinched face. "It’s hard to imagine you’re still in there." I gently tap the broad side of my blade against his forehead, as if he were nothing more than a garden statue.

"Consider your position, Rath. I am your only ally here. The others see you as a traitor. Emila is effectively doing your job for you. You're expendable. Be grateful I chose to spared you despite your transgressions."

I press the blade into his knuckle and rip a finger from his hand. As I release the spell, he collapses with a cry, gripping his wrist and writhing in pain.

I tuck the dagger away before something pummels me from behind.

"Silver, stop!" Rath cries, trying to pull him off me.

Silver clamps down on my arm and begins to shake. My skin tears under my wool sleeve. I focus. Trying to grapple my arm free without losing it.

Bex returns, leading two druids into the chamber.

"Peace Bringer!" They jump on Silver, but his jaws are locked. He doesn't relent.

"Silver, let go!" Rath's voice is cracked and panicked.

Bex darts over and pulls her dagger, sliding the blade clean across Silver's neck.

The wolf falls, and my arm slips from his jaws.

Bex's hands tremble violently, her face twisted in anguish.

"I... I don't know what came over him." I say with a breath.

Rath stands quiet. Empty.

I lift myself. "Rath, your finger."

"Huh?" He looks at me, hand bloodied and dripping.

I gently take it, sending a cold pulse of blue light through him. The wound closes where his finger used to be and I daub the blood clean with my kerchief.

"Peace Bringer, what about yourself?" One of the druids, gestures toward my arm.

Blood runs from my sleeve. "The dead need tending. If you could..." I gesture toward the bodies in the library.

The other druid places a hand over his heart. "We are honored to help." He stares down at Silver. "All things will be claimed when their time has come. As you said, by His will." He murmurs the words softly.

"Yes." I touch Bex's shoulder. She holsters her dagger and presses her hand to mine.

"Bury them with respect."