I see the whole of it. The weight of what must be done lingers like a sickness.

"I have never seen armor shine so bright." She says breathlessly. "Where did you get it?"

"A gift from Ch'r'ai W'wargaz."

Therrazin's corpse is nestled neatly in the chimney of the Captain's Quarters.

"One more thing." I reach behind the door frame and pull a decorative long sword. No hell flames, but it hums with a distinct psionic power. I get on my knee and lay it across my palms, offering it to her reverently.

She smiles and takes the hilt in hand, measuring the weight, and dragging her fingers across the fine details, before running the edge of the blade along the edge of her forearm. The hairs on her arm are shaved away with little effort. She pulls the hells' sword and hands it to me.

I take it and stand. "Do you want to change?"

"Yes." She shuffles into the Captain's Quarters but hesitates. "The novices." She turns back.

"There was a minor disagreement between them and the Ch'r'ai."

She grunts. "A culling well deserved."

She shuts the door.

Gale and I quietly share a glance.

He finally mutters. "Hopefully whatever is going on with her is temporary."

Astarion lifts himself. "Wishful thinking. We don't even know the extent of the damage." He's staring at me as he speaks.

I take a subtle step back. "The Zaith'isk. It was never a cure. I discussed it with W'wargaz. He confirmed it's a temporal extraction device. It doesn't remove the tadpole. It harvests the mind. I'm not sure why, but it hardly matters. The point is, Lae'zel's mind was effectively unwound."

Astarion scowls deeply. "And you stood there and did nothing."

"I didn't know." I tap my fingers against my thumb as I look at the chamber door. "I'll keep an eye on her."

Gale bites back. "That's the last thing she needs! Ever since she met you, you've been wearing her down. Her faith, her confidence, her... her mind! All of it dismantled because of you!" Gale abruptly shoves me.

Astarion quickly steps back and folds his arms, watching quietly.

"Gale," I say tersely. "Lae'zel came to me green and too cocky. I've never questioned her abilities as a warrior, but she's been held back from fulfilling her full potential. By Vlaakith, and by you."

Gale presses his finger into my chest. "You've decided this for her without giving her a choice! If she can't see what you're doing clearly, then how can you call that helpful?"

I press forward. "I'm not deceiving her, Gale! Every piece of her that's faltered is the result of Vlaakith's doctrine."

He shoves me again. "Vlaakith isn't the devil on her shoulder whispering in her ear."

I step back, looking down at him. "Devil."

Astarion falls still, then scoffs. "A-hah. Yes, we're all very puissant, aren't we? Well done." He begins to applaud lightly before grabbing my arm. "Treasure. Adventures. Dungeons. Let's go." He begins to tug on me.

Lae'zel steps out of the Captain's Quarters. Armor gleaming. Plating thicker and sturdier. Clearly higher quality. The sword is latched proudly to her back.

I smile and move to approach her, but Astarion grips my arm tighter and I stop, looking back at him.

"Vash," he says quietly.

I settle and place my hand over his.

Gale meets her. "The articulation in the joints. It looks like it fits you well."

Lae'zel gives a confident nod. "It feels lighter. I didn't know armor could feel so balanced."

I look toward Shovel who is eating freshly harvested nostril debris. "Go ahead Shovel. We're ready."

"Huh? Oh right." She yawns and taps her way through the Captain's Quarters, stopping at a wall. She sniffs it, placing her hands on the bricks before turning back to me. "No treasure. The door's gone!" Shovel huffs. "Green lady took the gem." She waves her claw at an apparatus with a socket that is clearly missing a key.

Gale studies the socket and glances around the room before landing on Lae'zel. "Ah." He walks up to her and pulls a red gem from her sleeve, and places it in the socket. With a sizzle, the wall dissipates, exposing a stone corridor.

My lip twitches. The reflex to compliment him exists, but I'm still irritated. I bite my tongue and move. Shovel dashes in front, leading the way.

The tunnel leads into a storage room. The ceiling is crumbling, and the sun gleams against something fastened tight to the roof of the temple. I shade my eyes and attempt to make out what it is, but the light obscures it.

Astarion immediately begins trying to break into crates. He finally cracks one open and pulls a jar of pickled tentacles.

"No." He places it back and walks away.

Shovel totters over to a crack in the stone wall in the far corner. "This way!" She slides through and I stand over the crack, only large enough for a quasit. Maybe Lae'zel if we flattened her head. She'd probably be no better off than she is now. I glance at her as she retrieves the jar of tentacles Astarion set down. Then I see Gale, and I wave him over.

He rolls his eyes and approaches. "What is it."

"No need to be sour." I gesture toward the hole. "I have a very specific problem."

Shovel peeks out from the crack. "What keeps you? Is this way!"

He folds his arms. "I see." He studies the wall, stepping up to it and pressing against a few stones. "Step back Shovel."

Shovel looks at me.

"Step back Shovel." I repeat, and she quickly darts away.

Gale presses his palm against the central stone and unleashes a blast that shatters the wall.

I pat his back. "Wizard wonder."

He glances at me and returns to Lae'zel's side.

I snap a flame into my hands and step through. A stone path leads straight into the abyss. The echoes of dripping water echoes off the walls, and the pungent smell of must wafts over me as I'm hit with moist air. My breath grows shallow from the assault on my senses.

Astarion trails behind me, his eyes darting across the walls. "Not too fast. You don't know if this place could be boobytrapped."

"Fair," I say under my breath, becoming more mindful of where I step. A faint light in the distance begins to flood the path. We finally make it to a vast open cavern. Golden Metal arcs fold over a central podium that holds a mace, illuminated by the holy light of Lathander.

Astarion and I stop at the bottom step, looking up at the holy relic. My hair stands on end, being in its presence. Shovel keeps a distance from me.

"Shovel doesn't want to be podium bitch for stupid glowstick." She folds her arms. "Shovel gets to stay now?!"

"Yes, Shovel. You've earned three more days."

"YYEEEAAAHH!!!" She runs around, triumphant.

We stand transfixed. Astarion pinches my sleeve and steps forward.

I hear Lae'zel and Gale approach from behind as he makes his way toward the relic.

He stops and begins to carefully observe the podium, taking his time before finally reaching up and bracing the hilt of the mace.

Lae'zel steps next to me. "A thing of wonder. A most brutal weapon to hold."

"Indeed." I say slowly. My gaze wanders, as I follow the arches. There are four planted firmly into the stone of the cavern. Through another subtle crack in the ceiling, I see the shining apparatus on the roof of the temple once more. The point of the device is trained on the weapon.

"Astarion." I say, before seeing him pull the mace free.

Everything begins to move. The arches turn and shift down. A cage rises from the ground. I dash up the stairs just as the bars close around him.

"No."

The golden sphere on the roof begins to spin, and the point beams with a dreadful light.

Astarion grabs the bars. "Get me the hells out of here!"

I run around the damned thing to find anything I can do to lower the cage.

Switches.

Levers.

A weak spot in the construction.

Anything.

I spot some shifting gears protruding from the floor and jam my greatsword into the machinery, hoping beyond hope that it will stop something.

The globe on the roof slows to a halt, and the beaming light begins to fade.

I breathe and walk back to Astarion.

He passes me the mace through the bars. "Good. Now find a way to drop these bars."

I smirk. "Why? At least now I'll know where to find you."

"Hah hah. Now get me out of here!" He gives a short firm rattle of the bars.

A metal shrieking noise cuts through us, and the gears shudder violently before my greatsword shatters. I'm thrown back as ice and sulfur permeate the air.

The globe begins to spin again and the beam of the lance returns.

My breath grows heavy and my eyes dart around the chamber once again.

Gale and Lae'zel are searching the area as well and finding nothing.

I meet Astarion's eyes and see his face fall. "You're running out of time, just get out of here!"

"No!" I grip the bars and send a bolt of electricity through them, hoping it will break the machine.

Nothing.

I step back and volley several magic missiles.

Astarion shields his eyes. "By the gods, just go!"

Lae'zel and Gale watch the lance and begin to run.

"I can't! I-" I grip the bars, my knuckles white as I pull to no avail.

"Vash, you insufferable prick! I said go!"

"Astarion."

He steps forward and reaches out. Fingers trail through my hair as he pulls me into a kiss.

I close my eyes, feeling his tepid lips, and smelling bergamot and brandy.

The kiss breaks and he smiles at me. His eyes at peace. "Go."

I take a slow step back, my chest tight as I manage to choke out the only words in my mind. "...from the bottom of my heart."

He sinks, sitting with his back against the bars.

Small. Resigned.

I run.

The temple begins to rumble.

I have no memory of making my way out of the temple.

A great ringing pierces the air. Gale and Lae'zel stand with Shadowheart and Karlach.

I fall and Karlach catches me under the arms, holding me steady. The Blood of Lathander topples from my grasp and Shadowheart picks it up.

"-Astarion." I choke. No more words come forth.

"Spooks, we've got to move!" She says dragging me to my feet. My body. Utterly useless.

The lance fires and the temple erupts.

The sound of crunching leaves. The quiet weight of footsteps. A sob. A sigh. The heat from Karlach had become unbearable despite my cloak, and I cannot lean on her or anyone.

So I walk. It's all I can do. Shepherded by Karlach.

Bex and Danis run up to us, and Bex puts her shoulder under my arm.

"Vash, are you alright? What happened?"

I can't speak. I look down at her and simply shake my head.

"By the gods. Sit down." She ferries me toward the campfire, but I stop.

"I… Cot." I move, drifting into my tent while the others sit together.

Bex follows me as I lie down and cover my eyes. The sun is too bright. She kneels next to me, resting her arms on the edge of my bed. She doesn't speak but watches me.

I drift to sleep. Drained.

I wake, the sun is low in the sky, and a shadow has already fallen across the camp. The sky is indigo as the last vestiges of light vanish behind the mountain.

I am suddenly flooded with a sickness.

Astarion is dead.

He's still dead.

I fell asleep, woke up, and nothing has changed.

My stomach aches, as if I had been pummeled by a berserker.

Maybe if I fall asleep again, next time I wake, I'll be in a world where he's still here.

...what a funny, hopeless thought.

Everyone sits quietly around the campfire. I join them.

Bex has several eggs and some roasted vegetables prepared for her, Danis, and Karlach. No one else has the stomach for food. I certainly don't.

Scratch trots up to me and I kneel, giving him a scratch behind the ears.

"Everyone is so quiet." He says. "The fancy one isn't here. Will he be back?"

I get a lump in my throat, stroking his head.

Scratch whimpers and follows me as I sit near everyone. He leans against me and places his chin on my knee.

I warm my hands by the fire.

Lae'zel has a blanket around her shoulders and she begins to mutter. "We can still find a cure. The Zaith'isk was tampered with. If we can find another one, find another creche, we-"

"There is no cure."

The air around the fire becomes a vacuum.

Lae'zel scoffs. "So you say, but I felt it. I was being cleansed. If I could have endured a little longer-"

I stand abruptly. "No. The Zaith'isk harvests the mind and kills the infected. That thing was slowly killing you."

Gale rises with me. "Stop it, Vash!"

"No!" Lae'zel barks. "The doctrine is clear! Vlaakith-"

"Vlaakith lied to you! You're nothing more than cannon fodder in her endless army of drones."

Lae'zel stands and meets my eye. "Such sacrilege will not go unanswered."

I approach her and place my hand on the crown of her head, forcing W'wargaz's words into her mind.

A hand presses against my chest and I'm suddenly blasted backwards.

I hit the dirt...

...Something warm and wet laps at my face. Scratch. I come to, the throbbing pain in my chest leaves my breath shallow. Something cools on my lip. I touch it. My nose is bleeding. Lae'zel is nowhere to be seen, but Gale is being restrained by Shadowheart and Bex.

"You don't understand what he's done to her!" He pulls against their hold, but they keep a firm grip on him.

"How are we going to be effective if we start attacking each other in camp?!" Bex snaps.

"You talk about things being unconscionable but look at you! You nearly killed him!" Shadowheart speaks through a stiff jaw.

Karlach is kneeling next to me, fanning me with her hand. There is a slight breeze already, her fanning is ineffectual.

I rise to my elbows. My shoulder stings, scuffed and aching from having landed on it.

"Spooks! Gods, you're lucky."

I try to speak, but the pain in my chest is fighting me.

"Hush up. You don't need to say a thing. We've got you. Here." She places a cup of tea next to me. "Danis made this for you."

Danis.

I try to offer a thanks, but I become choked again.

"Stop. Drink." She holds the cup to my lips and I sip.

...it's delightful.

Scratch sits next to me. "I was worried. You didn't move for so long."

I pat him gently, and firmly place my hand on his shoulders, using him as leverage. He holds steady, helping me sit up.

For a split second I anticipate a comment from Astarion, but...

Astarion.

I can still smell him. I can still feel him. I can still hear him. Cruel laughter. Daggered snark. The weight of him in my arms. Cool hands dragging across me. Teeth on my neck.

My finger drags over the bite marks. I'd settle for merely having him by my side, if it's all the gods would allow.

I couldn't stop it. A Paladin of Conquest. Child of a God. Deathstalker. Peace Bringer. Lofty titles and I couldn't stop a fucking dungeon trap from killing him. How insufferably useless I am.

The grief builds in my throat once again. Grief. I could give him the world. Now all I have for him is my grief.

I rise, slowly making my way to Gale. He's sitting with Shadowheart and Bex. He shifts, his eyes are locked onto me. I touch the crown of his head and he goes still, looking sickened.

"You had no right to show me that," he says in a low voice.

My feet drag as I turn and make my way back to my tent. Sleep. I just want to sleep.

Karlach continues to hover. "What was that, Spooks? What did you show him?"

Hushed footsteps pass from the corner of my eye. Withers is still drifting along the outskirts of camp, as he usually does.

Karlach notices him and leans into me, voice low. "I didn't want to say anything, but what is that? He gives me the heebie-jeebies."

"Just a useless skeleton." I croak.

Her face falls, as she watches him drift across the bank.

He's muttering to himself; scrawling in his ledger. He finally sees me approaching and lowers his quill. "Ah. You've come to me again. What need hast thou of me?"

"Astarion." I wince. His name passes through me like an arrow. "Tell me he's gone." I take a ragged breath. "So I can begin to heal."

"Astarion..." He trails off inquisitively. "The vampire spawn. An undead."

"Yes." I snipe. "Astarion."

He closes the book and with the wave of his hand, it vanishes.

"His death is most unfortunate."

He speaks slowly and in my impatience, I begin to think of ways I can break him apart. He's doing this deliberately. He wants me to suffer.

A faint smile tugs at the corner of his decrepit mouth. "Fate did not ordain that such a selfish man would sacrifice himself to save his friends. It was unforeseen."

I barely process what he's saying before he waves his arm at me. "Get thee back."

My breath quickens as I shift back.

A soft circle of light etches itself into the ground between us. I go numb as Withers holds out his arms.

"By doom and dusk, I strike thy name from the archives. Rise."

Snaps of weave manifest in front of me, and in a blink, Astarion materializes.

He lands, and stumbles to his knees. I fall with him and we grip each other's arms.

"The hells?" He says, bewildered.

I envelop him, holding him tight. "Thank the gods... Thank the gods."

He slowly wraps his arms around me, fingers lightly dragging through my hair. He buries his face in my shoulder.

We remain embraced until I gently pull back and begin to pepper his neck and cheeks with kisses.

He laughs at me. "There, there. I know you're going through a lot right now." He pats my back as if I had been sulking over a broken toy.

I make noises. I can't tell if I'm laughing or crying.

My palm cradles his cheek and I lean in, but he stops me. "Don't..." he says quietly. "Unless you mean it."

My finger trails the curve of his jaw before resting beneath his chin. I lightly brush his lips with my thumb before pulling him into a kiss.

He sighs and wraps his arms around my neck.

I feel.