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"I am going to fulfill Tav’s end of the pact, I will act as her proxy." |
"That leech does not deserve to lay his eyes on her." Raphael’s voice was low, thick with a possessiveness Haarlep rarely heard. "I am sure the intoxicating scent of her – us – will be enough to drive the point home." |
"And what about me?" Haarlep pressed, not used to being left wanting – starved. |
Raphael dipped his head in Tav’s direction. |
"I grant you, your most desired wish – you can play with my little mouse." |
"She is unconscious." Haarlep’s whispered was saturated with disbelief. |
"And you, my dear, are an Incubus." |
"Those are old ways – long abandoned and savage." Haarlep snarled. |
"Then starve until I return. The choice is yours." |
Raphael left for the dungeons. |
The heavy doors snapped shut behind him. The sound resonated against the marbled walls and floor. |
Haarlep inhaled shakily. Bid their ravenous hunger to wane. Their footfall was muffled by the antiquated Persian rugs. They opened a drawer to pull out soft pieces of cloth to tidy Tav. |
It was the least they could do after she, foolishly, tried to spare them Raphael’s more tenacious attentions. |
Haarlep approached the bed cautiously. Knelt over their little thief so they could cleanse the mess of their Master from between her thighs. Haarlep tossed the soiled cloth to the side and used the other clean one to wipe the beaded sweat from her brows. |
Haarlep tossed the second soiled fabric in the general direction of the other. Fingers coming up to brush a strand of hair away from Tav’s face. |
So much for sparing her Raphael’s Ascended form. |
She groaned; face scrunched in distress then sleepily reached out to Haarlep. |
Her fingers wrapped around their wrist and pulled as if drawn to the heat of their body. |
Haarlep hesitated. |
Torn between pulling her into their arms to comfort or pressing their lips against her swollen ones and claiming her for their own as well. |
A whisper left Tav’s lips. |
Haarlep’s stoney heart gave a single beat in response. |
Their decision was made. |
It had been three days since Archduke Enver Gortash died. |
All across the city, it was all anyone could talk about. The Gazette had been spewing out all sorts of conspiracies ever since the news broke, and in the pubs, peoples’ tongues hadn’t stopped wagging for a second. Some said the Archduke was laid low due to a sudden illness. Others whispered that a coup had left the entirety of the upper class either dead or reeling. Some blamed Gortash’s sudden death on assassins from the cult of the Absolute. |
Tav supposed the last wasn’t far from the truth. Gortash had known her when she was an assassin, after all. And they did lead the Absolute. Regardless, at the end of the day, he died because of her blade, stuck through his chest. And instead of giving him any chance to recover, she had dug it deeper, after the initial strike. |
She remembered still, how in those few seconds left of his life, Bane’s Chosen had reached up and grasped her own hand, clasped tight around his murder weapon. Gortash’s dark eyes had watched her, filled with a galaxy of emotions. Then, like so many of her victims before him, the life faded from them as he choked on his own blood. |
Tav remembered how it was silent after he drew his last breath. How her mind reeled from the emptiness. How Gortash’s hand left a bloodied trail across her knuckles. Distantly, she had noted that his blood was... warm. Comfortingly familiar, almost, against her skin. And the look on his face then- twisted in a strange expression, its intent beyond any Tav could ascertain... it lingered on after his death, twisted in a secret she couldn’t decipher. |
That was the first and last time Tav recalled the Chosen of Bane ever touching her. But as she pulled away from his corpse, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had passed between them; something strangely intimate. Far more than her usual kills, and far deeper than she could understand. |
It was those few seconds that remained seared in her mind. She’d fought in so many battles, killed a lifetime of people. But through the memories of the chaotic, hectic battle against the Archduke, of the scene of carnage in the audience chambers, or even Karlach’s explosion after- |
It was Gortash’s dying face that haunted her sleep now. His final breath that she heard, in the silence of the night. The ghost of his smile that flitted through her mind when she woke. The echo of his laugh, that left her skin shivering even though he was no longer there. And every time she tried to hold on to something from those fragments, it all faded away. Like the morning mist in the dawn. |
Because he was there, and he wasn’t, and every time she thought about him, something inside her ached from the emptiness. Sure, they had worked together to get the Crown of Karsus, to form the Cult of the Absolute. She’d seen the letters penned by her own hand- the admiration, the trust she once held for the Chosen of Bane. |
But she didn’t remember him. Sometimes, she wondered if maybe... she didn’t want to remember him. |
But it was a strange feeling, to miss something that she hadn’t realized had existed. To feel the whispers and ghosts of a life before tugging at the fringe of her consciousness. Tav was used to it, had been used to it ever since she woke up on the nautiloid, but now- now, something in the back of her mind pulsed so loudly, far louder than the tadpole. She couldn’t just ignore it. |
The fact that it sounded all-too-much like Gortash somehow didn’t repulse her as much as she thought it should. |
So on the third night after Enver Gortash died, Tav waited till it was late. No one else was awake when she slipped out of the Elfsong Tavern. Nobody stopped her when she stepped out into the cold night air, where the sharp stench of the Lower City and the sound of the noisy crowds grounded her against her thoughts. |
Like a duck to water, she took to the streets and followed a path she had all but forgotten- vague memories pulled from the night’s shadows, accompanied by the sensation of a young man’s laughing smile. |
All around her, life in the city continued on as usual. In fact, it could be said that at night, the Lower City came alive. None of the citizens seemed to be aware of the growing threat of the Elder Brain. They laughed along the dirty cobblestone roads. Drunken couples ducked into dimly lit alcoves, and sly thieves eyed all those that passed by. Nobody knew that the ex-Chosen of Bhaal flit through the streets now, passing as just another person in the meandering night-time crowd. |
Tav drew her cloak closer, side-stepping a beggar and shooting a glare at the approach of a particularly obvious thief. It was different to walk these streets alone, compared to recent weeks, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. |
She doubted she’d be missed by her companions right now- taking on all the Chosen of the Dead Three was no easy feat, and her friends- her makeshift family - needed time to take stock and recover before their final battle. Karlach, too, was drawing most of the attention from their little group. The tiefling mourned for the life she could have had, if not for Gortash’s meddling. A life that was going to be cut short far too soon. And the rest of their group had been paying special care to her- enough so that Tav could slip away unnoticed. |
Tav felt for Karlach. Really, she did. She understood what she and the rest of her companions had seen in Gortash- megalomaniac, tyrant... Chosen of Bane. So much so that she doubted any of her companions would appreciate what she was going to do tonight. Who she was doing it for. |
But if she wanted to get back to them, to be there for them, to be Tav like they deserved, like she wanted to be... she needed this. |
The Lower City was vast, with its winding lanes and sprawling buildings. It was perfect to get lost in. Tav had grown up on these streets, had lurked in these shadows. Though the amnesia made it hard to recall the details, the moonlit cobblestones still felt safe to her senses, her boots treading easily in the phantom footsteps that she barely remembered. |
Tonight, she let them lead her. Followed the shadow that lurked just beyond her periphery, listened to the twinned footfalls that echoed only in the vaguest fringe of her memory. |
"Where are we going?" she asked, unable to stem the irritation in her voice. She wasn’t in danger- the Chosen of Bhaal could handle just about any threat. But she didn’t appreciate being toyed with, even innocuous as this was. |
A hand steered her down the road. "Someplace quiet. Didn’t you say you needed a drink?" |
She snorted. "You would too, after taking out three Harper cells in a night." |
"They weren’t pulling any punches, were they?" |
Tav huffed. "As if I would let them." |
"A toast, then." Gortash smirked, dark eyes twinkling in the moonlight. "To their folly for crossing the greatest assassin I’ve had the pleasure to know. Step this way, here, to the left-" |
She turned, underneath a crumbling overhang and stepping into a secluded street. This was a quiet corner of the city. Far from the influence of the patriars, or the Guild, or anything in between. Most of the shophouses had closed for the night, but in a section between two crumbling roads, sandwiched between two boarded up houses, a warm light poured through the half-opened door of a tavern. |
Tav hesitated. A sign touting "The Crossroads" hung overhead. She couldn’t ever recall being here before, but the streets felt familiar, and the homely scent of stew tugged at her memory. Then, a phantom touch on her hand pulled her forwards, towards the door, the echo of a young man’s laugh ringing in her ears. |
She pushed open the door and stepped into the tiny tavern. This was no Elfsong- few patrons lingered around the tables, and a surly barkeep was cleaning tankards by the counter. The smell of musty wood and overcooked food assaulted her senses, but Tav breathed it all in, trying to take a breath to orient herself, to figure out- |
"Been a while since we saw you." |
The barkeep arched one burly eyebrow towards her. His scowl was far from welcoming, but Tav wasn’t so easily cowed. She smiled mirthlessly as she stepped up to the bar, her mind already slotting the pieces in place. |
Her silence didn’t perturb the barkeep. He snorted as he poured a tankard and set it down in front of her. "The usual? Kept your old spot just the way you like it." |
He nodded towards a table in a secluded corner of the room. Covered mostly by shadows, it had two red leather seats propped up against the walls. Tav would almost laugh at how cliché it was, but well, Gortash always did like his clichés. |
She wondered whether she knew that before or after meeting him again. |
"You know me, my friend. The scholars may debate my methods but, well... subtlety is overrated, don’t you think?" |
She ignored the voice humming at the back of her mind. Taking the tankard, Tav tossed a few coins towards the barkeep. She turned to make her way to the table when he spoke again. |
"Is Flymm gonna join you later? Haven’t seen him since the last time the both of you were here, either." |
Tav paused. Tried not to trace out the figure of Gortash through the shadows. The teasing grin of a boy she never knew, lurking just above the patrons- |
"Just me, this time." |
The barkeeper grunted in acknowledgement, and Tav let out a breath. The other patrons didn’t pay much attention to her as she settled at the corner table. That was fine by her- after all, it wasn’t them she was here for tonight. |
She scanned her surroundings. The lamp, half-off its hinge. The faded paintings that lined the tavern walls. Scattered pages of the Gazette, crushed in the corner underneath her seat. The musk, the scent of blood and sweat and ale- |
All of it was unfamiliar. And yet, not. |
She could almost hear the scrape of a chair, could almost see Gortash seated across from her now, his half-lidded eyes watching her through his dark bangs. A knowing smirk stretching across his face. |
"I never took you for the sentimental type . Imagine, the child of Bhaal, the Chosen of Murder. Missing me." |
"I don’t miss you," she shot back quietly, glad her back was turned from the rest of the patrons. "I don’t remember enough to miss you." |
"And yet, here you are." |
Here she was. Tav gripped her tankard tight and took a swill of the ale. It was diluted down, but the bitterness was sharp, pulling her mind together briefly- |
And Gortash laughed as she scrunched her nose up at the ale. |
"Are you going to tell me that blood tastes better?" he asked, his teasing filled with the warmth of his smile. |
"There’s more of a profile to it," she argued- |
Tav coughed delicately into her fist. The words, the memory - all of it vanished so easily, like a dream, dissipating in the mists of waking. She clung to what she had, what she thought had been real - |
A chuckle tickled her ear. The scent of sandalwood wafted by her nose. |
"You don’t know what’s real or what’s not, do you? Whether you’re just making all of this up in your mind." |
"It’d be a lot easier if you weren’t here," she muttered in return, resting her head in her palms. |
Then, her world lurched. Tav shuddered, something reaching out from the depths of her broken mind- |
She blinked as the warm light from the window lit up Gortash's features. The young man watched her with an easy grin. "You want me to be here. You and I... we understand each other, don’t we? After all, we’re the same." |
"Because we’re Chosen?" Tav narrowed her eyes. She let out a mocking little laugh. "Blessed by the gods to carry out their will?" |
"Hardly." Gortash shook his head, swirling the glass wine in his hand. Despite his bright smile, Tav paid attention to the way he was staring through her, off into the distance. It always made him look... lonely, despite his bravado. |
"Because, despite all the power we have, all the power we can have... we’re still mortal. And we suffer all that entails. A tragedy, wouldn’t you say?" |
He glanced at her, and in his eyes- she saw no lies. |
Something caught in her throat. |
She blinked, and the vision faded away. The bite of the tankard’s metal was cold against her skin. Tav breathed. Gortash wasn’t there anymore. He was never here, only just in her head, in her memories- |
"And why would you ever want to remember those memories? What use would they be now?" |
She shook her head. "Because they were important. Because you were important. To me." |
If he was here, Gortash might have leaned forward. Smiled patronizingly at her. |
"Do you remember that?" |
"Of course not, but-" |
But there had to have been something. Something, because Gortash- |
He smiled at her so warmly, even though she carried the Netherstones that would undermine his Grand Design. He treated her with genuine respect, and talked to her about how they used to be allies with far more honesty than she’d ever expect of the man. |
And though she never voiced it out, something in her chest had stirred at his voice. Something familiar, something that felt too shaped out of trust. A warm thread that connected her to him, that was far deeper than she could put words to, could remember- |
"And yet, you killed me, didn’t you?" |
Tav swirled the tankard before taking another sip, biting back a scowl. She wasn’t going to pour out all her unintelligible feelings to a man that was three days dead. "I did what I had to." |
Gortash’s laughter echoed behind her. She could almost hear his boots clacking on the wooden floorboards, almost feel the dark silk of his jacket ghosting along her skin; the weight of his hand on her shoulder. The ripple of mirth in his voice, wrapping around her. |
"You didn’t know what I meant to you. Now, you will never be able to ask." |
She huffed. "I wasn’t ever going to ask." |
His voice leaned in close. |
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