Bex and I walk quietly through the hollow. Tieflings and druids mingle as if the harmony had never been lost. But Bex is pensive. She watches the path, barely blinking.

"What is it?"

She glances at me, with a subtle smile. "Nothing."

I stop and she holds by my side. "It's nothing." She says it more sternly.

"I won't press, but if you want to talk about it…"

"Thank you." Her eyes settle on my shoulder. Her cheeks dimpled with a smile. "How are you?"

"I forgot." I chuckle lightly. "You tried to kill me yesterday."

She doesn't laugh. Her smile fades, and she suddenly becomes guarded.

How do you catch a smile when it falls?

"Bex. It was an honest mistake." We begin to walk once more.

"It was. I can't help but feel guilty, but I'm still angry with how you handled it. The position you put me in."

"I've been thinking about that."

"Have you?"

"I have." I take in a breath. "I think I understand, and I feel foolish for being so single minded when it comes to killing. When you're in a position like mine, you don't stop to consider every consequence."

"The consequences should go without saying."

"Perhaps. The man was going to die either way. By your hand, or mine. He was a loyalist. I am confident he would not have turned."

"Even so, that's not the whole of it. I want to know why you forced me to decide."

"I offered you a choice. Isn't that what you wanted? The chance at vindication?"

"I am not vindictive."

I grow quiet. We pass the wooden platform where Asharak is consoling a crying child. I briefly glance at him before turning my focus back to Bex.

"I'm sorry." I say softly.

She watches me before turning to the path again.

The way she walks with purpose. Fearless and unflappable. I glance around at the meandering people of the hollow before gently brushing my hand against her.

She doesn't speak but locks her little finger with mine.

A meek smile peeks through my flagellation. "I'm going to be leaving the grove. My company and I have business elsewhere. Near Waukeen's Rest. I'll stay connected, of course, but we're shifting focus for now."

"Shifting focus? All the way out there? What about Halsin?"

"Halsin is taking care of what he thinks is necessary. If he wants to return, I'm sure he will. The grove will be safe under our watch, that's all that matters. With everything in place, I have time to follow a lead regarding the tadpoles. I'm not going to squander it."

"How can you be so sure the goblins won't attack the grove while you're away?"

I hesitate. "Because I command the march."

The silence becomes heavy between us.

"Vash. Sometimes the shape of what you are is terrifying."

My face falls. "What do you mean?"

"You went from a man with amnesia who survived a crashing ship, to True Soul of the Absolute and Peace Bringer of the Emerald Grove."

She pauses.

"It took you five days."

Her focus shifts to something behind me.

I turn. A tiefling guard jogs up to Bex's camp. The one with short red hair. Kaldani.

"Vash..." She's breathless, clutching her crossbow. "Goblins... at the gate."

"What?!" I make for the gate.

Bex follows, and she sighs, seeing a modest war band charging up the trail. "Oh, Sazza..."

Red sparks volley from my hand as I pitch a firebolt at their feet. They stop short in front of the smoldering sand.

The Weave bends around me and Bex clings to my shoulders. We glide down.

"I never told you to come to the Grove." I bark. "What are you doing here?"

Sazza holds up her arms. "You said you wanted to speak to me, Boss! I figured something was up, so I brought my band!"

"A foolish mistake."

She flinches, staring at my boots and stepping back. "Y-You're right, Boss. M-My mistake!"

I begin to walk, and the goblins give me a wide berth, but follow me away from the grove. Bex trails the band, watching them carefully.

"I wanted to speak to you about the other True Souls in the camp. Minthara and Ragzlin. What kind of loyalties do they have amongst your tribe?"

"Oh! Well... Ragzlin is a blessing from the Absolute! A true warrior. A True Soul! He's kept our coffers loaded and our bellies full!"

"What do you do for him?"

She looks at me bewildered. "Raidin' of course."

I'm quiet for a moment before glancing down at her. "...and?"

Her posture deflates, looking even smaller than she already is. "What else is there?"

"Your tribe is small, Sazza. Imagine what you and your kin could do if you weren't just surviving under the boot of some feckless warlord."

Sazza's face twists. "I-I guess I never thought of that before."

A goblin rushes me, chest out, scowl on his face. "Are you say'n you could do better?"

"Why burn down inns when you could march on cities?" I glance at Bex and she's holding her hands tight behind her back, focusing on me.

"What about Minthara?" I say, turning back to Sazza.

She begins fidgeting, scuttling along beside me. She considers her words carefully. "Mistress Minthara is..." She pauses, her face twisting with effort as she tries to find the right words. "She's a True Soul. She's strong and speaks for the Absolute. She..." She falls silent.

I glance at the other goblins walking next to me. "Is that all?"

No one speaks, their normal chattering becoming subdued.

"And who am I, Sazza?"

"Well..." Her shoulders relax. "You're the Boss! You got me out of the grove. Saved my life!" Her eyes dart to her kin. "You brought me back to my tribe!" They laugh with a modest exuberance, gripping her arm and patting her back. "You gave me my shiny dagger after our bargain was done." She unsheathes it, holding it up so the others can see.

A few ogle the blade, while a goblin chimes in. "He crushed Crusher! It was nasty work!"

"Yeah! And he chopped Fezzerk's axe right out of his hand!" The goblin mimics the swing of my blade. A few goblins become boisterous; a smattering of jeers rise among them.

Another goblin grabs Sazza's shoulders. "He took down Keaps with a thought! Just like True Soul Zrell! You should have seen it!"

"Yeah! My ears are still ringing!" He laughs and sticks a pinky in his ear. His crude machete strapped neatly to his back. "I thought I was going to go mad! My brain was itchin'! I didn't know my brain could itch!"

"I told you!" Sazza's tone becomes lively. "Boss is a mighty one! Mistress Minthara clobbered him in the face, twice! And he didn't back down. He didn't even flinch!"

"You're not just a band of raiders." I say. "You're certainly not spider food."

I hear a chaotic murmur ripple through them. "...the spider pits..."

"I am the sword that will lead you to glory."

Several goblins jump and ululate.

"Boss is Tribe!"

"Praise the Absolute!"

I look down at Sazza and gesture toward the warband. "Spread the word. Gather more. There is strength in numbers. I will be traveling for the next few days, so you have time."

"Leave it to us, Boss!"

"Good. Your Booyagh will be getting messages from my little bird. You'll know when I'm coming back."

I stop by a crumbling well in the middle of the blighted village. "You know what to do." I scan the horde that surrounds me. "Get to work."

The goblins scatter in chaotic jubilation.

Bex approaches, looking weary. "Cities, Vash?"

"Rhetoric to break the tribe. Can you imagine a city getting plundered by goblins?" I say with a cheeky grin.

She sighs. "The shape of a hero." Her voice is a murmur.

I gently place my hand on her back. "Bex."

She hardly looks at me. "Vash." She straightens. "Vash, I'm coming with you."

"What?"

"You're not going to abandon me in the grove while you wander off into the wilderness on some wild goose chase."

"Wild goose chase?"

"Yes, that's precisely what this is, and I think you know it."

"I didn't realize you had such a bleak outlook on my condition."

"I care about you. I'm just being practical."

I go still.

"Danis is coming, of course. I'm not going to leave him behind if we're going to be joining your camp."

My mouth opens, though I am at a loss for words in the moment. "Of course. Of course, that only makes sense."

Her chest falls with a heavy breath. "Thank you." She steps into me, wrapping her arms around my neck.

I cling to her warmth and close my eyes.

"Right here." I point at the edge of my tent as Asharak and Zorru carry a large, empty chest inside, setting it down.

Asharak adjusts his robe, looking around. "I can see why you're not staying in the Hollow with us. I can't blame you for wanting a more private outpost." He grins, and I invite them to sit, pulling out a dark cedar box of pipeleaf cigars.

Zorru looks down at the box. It's a clean row of rolled leaves, amber and fragrant. He laughs with a touch of embarrassment. "Oh, no thank you. I'm... I'm going to head back. Good luck with your, uh, chest!"

He quickly retreats, and I shake my head. "That boy should have never been allowed to become a ranger."

Asharak grunts and sits in the chair across from me. "The boy is an orphan, like so many of them. Sometimes the nervous ones can surprise you. Oh, yes please." He nods graciously at the box.

I cut the tip of a cigar with my dagger and hand it to him. He snaps a flame into his fingers and drags a few times, getting the leaf to smolder with a bright red heat.

He exhales and leans back. "What's done is done, I suppose." He finally pulls in a proper mouthful of smoke, savoring the flavor. He relaxes his arms on the armrests, releases the hot smoke into the air.

I prep a cigar for myself, pulling the smoke into my mouth and closing my eyes. It's heady and smooth. Like the vanillin of an old book. Dry and intoxicating. A vague nuttiness peeks through the embers, with a sweet, earthy tone that lingers on the tongue only after I exhale.

A tiny smirk bends the end of my lip. "I can't remember the last time I had one of these."

I glance at Asharak, the end of my tail flicks. "Tell me about yourself. What part of Elturel are you from?"

He snorts. A plume of smoke escaping his nostrils as he shakes his head. "Elturel... gods. I never want to hear that name again."

I pull in another mouthful, watching him as his eyes linger on the chest for a moment.

"I was a fisherman. I had my own vessel and worked with good men. Lost every single one of them when the city fell."

He takes a drag, pausing before releasing the smoke through his nose. "I still couldn't tell you how I survived. I can't remember anything from that day." He brings his attention back to me, leaning forward to tap his ashes into a half shell on the table. "I was damned happy to join Zevlor's caravan though. I was sick of watching as friends and neighbors turn against good people just because we changed. Unforgivable, rotten souls. They named us devils, but the hells did more to ruin their hearts than they ever did to our bodies."

"And they would have never seen it in themselves. No matter how close you hold the mirror."

He grunts. "Well put." He sighs and leans his head back. "No, despite the danger, we are far better off here. If we die, at least we died trying for something better, instead of wasting the rest of our days being punished by a city that will never love us."

I exhale, allowing the smoke to flow through my teeth. "Do you mourn the dead?"

He rolls the cigar between his fingers for a moment, watching the half shell. "No."

"Mm." His face looks like he's accepting something he's been avoiding this whole time.

"I miss them, deeply, but I don't regret the decisions we've made getting as far as we have."

"Very sensible of you."

He glances up, meeting my eyes. "It's necessary."

I hold the moment before slowly tapping my ashes into the shell. "What will you do when you make it to Baldur's Gate? Buy a new vessel?"

"No." He takes another drag and holds it a moment before releasing it. "No, I can't stand the thought of trying to rebuild what I lost. I need to start fresh. I honestly don't know what I'm going to do, but I curse the thought of stepping foot on another damned boat."

He pulls one more mouthful, the embers at the end of the cigar receding against the leaves, bright orange. He taps the end of the cigar into the half shell before releasing the last breath of smoke. "Thank you, Vash. I needed this." He stands, giving me a gracious nod. "I’ll see you back at the Hollow, the next time you're around."

I watch him leave as the whispers continue to thrum in my ears.

Cut him. Bite him. Fuck him.

I close my eyes and exhale heavy through my nose, thick smoke coating my lap.

The whispers of a Bhaalspawn. Slaughter and breed in Father's name. A blessing, surely. Gods forbid there aren't enough Bhaalspawn in Faerûn. Though... my compulsions seem to be all over the place. I lean to see if I can watch him walking away.

I take one more drag and hold it in my mouth for a while before letting the smoke curl out of my lips. The feeling of the smoke rising laps at my nose and climbs up my face.

I look over at the chest sitting at the end of my tent and snap my fingers. An arcane lock coats it; geometric runes line each side as a magic shackle. I snap again and it's gone.

Good.

After a quiet moment alone, I finally tap out my cigar and get started.

Astarion seems to be on the hunt, while Shadowheart sits next to Lae'zel by the fire.

Shadowheart's voice is patient, but in a performative sense. "No, no. It's not that I'm against going to the creche if Vash thinks that's for the best. I'm just saying caution is warranted. If you don't know who these gith are, then what's stopping them from just killing us all?"

Lae'zel scoffs. "If you're so concerned, then feel free to stand behind me. We don't need you stammering like a hatchling. It will only serve to make the party look weak."

Gale is nibbling on some bread and cheese, nose buried in the latest book he's procured from the grove. He's sitting close to his tent, disengaged from the group. He most certainly is not looking at me.

I begin rummaging around the camp chest, pulling out every magical item I can find. Once my arms are full I return my tent, tossing them inside my chest, before going back for more.

Gale finally glances up from his book, watching me. "What's going on, Vash?"

"Just securing some of our more valuable items." I take another armful back to my chest.

He gets to his feet and begins to follow me around camp. "That's not necessary, really."

"Of course it is. We can't afford to lose these. We're lucky to have stumbled across them at all."

Gale's gripping his hands nervously. His eyes shifting subtly, trying to think of the right words. Any words. That will make me stop.

I begin going through everyone's tents, carefully pulling magical items that aren't hanging off their bodies. Shadowheart and Lae'zel watch quietly for a moment then return to their discussion.

Gale laughs nervously. "You can't possibly think we're incapable of securing our own property. It's a bit overkill for you to have every single magic item tucked away like that. Isn't it?"

I stop and look at him. "Of course not. Anytime you need something, you can ask me." I finally climb into his tent and rummage around.

His voice rises. "These are my personal effects! You can't just barge in and take my things!"

"I'm doing you a favor, Gale." I comb through a few of his items before finding a small chest. I flip it open and see a cache of magical jewelry. My stomach sinks. Of course, the smaller items will be less conspicuous. "You've got quite the collection here." He may very well be the walking bomb the shade described. I snap the chest closed and tuck it under my arm.

He finally grabs me. "No!" He's almost breathless with panic. "You don't understand! I need those!"

My face shifts into incredulity, brows raised. "You... need these?" I hold up the small chest and Gale eyes it with desperation.

"Y-Yes... it's... it's hard to explain." He scowls. "And I shouldn't have to. They're mine." He grabs at it and I pull it out of his reach.

"What aren't you telling me, Gale?" My focus sharpens on to the mania he's whipped himself into.

He says nothing, tries to grab the chest again, and fails. "You're a real bastard, you know that?"

The mouth on this man. "Don't change the subject."

The Weave shifts wildly around him. He glances at Lae'zel, then back to me. "Can I speak with you privately?"

I step aside, holding out my arm. He leads the way to my tent. I place the cache on the table and sit. Gale takes a seat across from me.

"Vash. The more I get to know you, the more alarmed I am at your behavior. What's worse is that it doesn't seem impulses. Your cruelty is calculated."

"Cruelty?" I lean hard on my armrest, the wooden joints creak as I settle my weight. "I am managing our assets. The solutions I offer are just that, solutions, and they work. I made a promise that everything I do is in the interest of our group's survival. Are you saying what I've done is wrong?"

"No but-"

"-But what? But there is more than one way to handle a situation? A kinder way? A gentler way? You know better than anyone, kindness can't fix every injustice in the world, Gale Dekarios."

He abruptly stands, the chair knocking over behind him. He places his hands on the table and speaks very carefully. "Who are you?"

The correct question, with no answer to give.

"What do you expect me to say to that?"

"I expect you to be honest. I know you’ve lost your memories. But you know something, and you’ve been keeping it from us. I can feel it."

"We each harbor our own secrets, with the mutual understanding that some secrets are best left buried. But others are more dangerous and deserve the right amount of care. How long were you going to hide your condition from me?"

He reaches up and places his fingertips over a circular tattoo on his chest. Lines flow from the circle and trail up to the corner of his left eye. "Indefinitely, if I could help it."

I can't help but grin at his selfishness. "You never gave us the choice to decide whether we wanted to travel with a walking bomb. What about that makes you entitled to privacy?"

"If you want me to leave, then just say so."

I tap my nail on the table, letting his words hang between us. "You can't."

"What do you mean? Of course I can leave."

"Only if you wish to turn. The prism is protecting us from the Absolute. If you leave, and turn, you'll be putting thousands of people in danger. If you want to go that route then I'd rather sink you in the Ebon Lake and be done with it."

Gale goes stiff, the Weave around him falls still.

I pull the cache into my hands and hold it up to him. "I'll be keeping the artifacts in my chest. That way, we can be assured we always have something for you. I apologize for how invasive this is. Truly. But if at any point you need anything, please, just ask."

He releases a slow, unsteady breath. I watch him set the chair upright before I walk over to the chest. I place the cache inside, sealing it with an arcane lock.

I sit back down across from him. "Is there anything you'd like in the meantime? Mead? Cigar?" I gently push the box toward him. He doesn't look like a man that smokes, but it's the thought that counts, isn't it?

To my surprise he takes one, holding it for a moment before leaving without another word.