#Squidhawk

[th-ramblr]

[Baldur's Gate 3] - Squidhawk #19

[Cross-posted on AO3]

When he heard the door unlock and begin to creep open, it was time to put everything into motion.

He guzzled down the invisibility potion he had on him and waited with his back pressed against the wall just around the corner from the door, watching as a couple of Gith soldiers poured into the room with weapons drawn, ready to strike.

And found the room empty.

The - doctor? - woman came in after them, curling her lip back and sneering as she likewise looked around, expecting to find him if she just squinted hard enough.

"He has to be here somewhere. Find him! There's only one way out and that door never opened."

They started to spread out, casting detection spells in their hand as they dispersed towards corners and looked behind tables and desks. One of the soldiers stood between the rest of the room and the open door, but that was just fine by him. He didn't need them to move.

He gripped the enchanted necklace around his neck, finding where he wanted to go with his eye, and let the spell take him there, to the room just outside. It didn't go unnoticed as his invisibility dropped, but by the time the door guard turned around and realized what had happened, he was already rolling a couple of smokepowder bombs between his feet and slamming the door shut with his shoulder.

He felt the reverberations through the wood as some of it scorched and splintered on the other side, of muffled screams of pain just beyond, but none of that was his concern except that it worked.

And that he needed to get the fuck out of here, yesterday.

He found a piece of furniture that he shoved with all his strength in front of the door, something to at least slow them down if that hadn't killed them, and then made brisk but quiet steps towards the entrance.

His eyes darted around as he went, on the look out for more Gith that would more than likely attack him on sight now. His hand twitched towards the dagger at his hip as one passed him by, sneering at him, but didn't try to immediately stop him. His brows furrowed, but he didn't stop to ponder it, heading for the way out just as quickly.

As he reached the gateway through to the monastery, one of them moved in the way to stop him, holding out a hand, and he was mentally steeling himself for the fight he was no doubt going to need to get into to leave.

"Hold it there, istik. I was told the Kith'rak is awaiting you. Have you gone to see her yet?"

His face twitched, glancing past. Just who or what was a kith'rak? Was it that woman with her damnable machine, or - ?

"Our commander," the Gith clarified, seeming to realize he didn't understand, and pointing down a corridor he hadn't yet been down. "That way. You are one of the mercenaries that she hired to help us, yes? She's awaiting a progress report from you."

He forced himself to relax, even as his pulse raced, ready to fight or flee. "Oh. Was los'." The lie slid absently off his tongue, but it seemed sufficient enough.

"I'd say so, since you came from the wrong hall, istik. Go that way and then to the left," they jerked their head. "Do not keep our kith'rak waiting if you have news."

He only nodded mutely, too many eyes on him to either fight his way through or pop another invisibility potion and get past them unnoticed. He'd have to find another way that wasn't straight through the front doors, especially since he was sure that would be the first place they'd look once they realized what he'd done.

Tentatively peeking his head into the room he'd been pointed towards, he paled a bit at how many more soldiers he found there, though most of them seemed to be preoccupied with the argument that was ensuing between two of the more heavily dressed figures, each of them wearing a fancy metal circlet the rest lacked.

"Please, Ch'r'ai, I can explain! The latest batch of cultists knew nothing about the Astral Prism. They were just trying to find Moonrise. They all head there. My gish have drafted plans to assault the tower. They are ready to fight, ch'r'ai."

The first he heard was a Gith woman with reddish hair tied back tightly.

"We could sift the missing artifact from the tower's ashes, if you would give us - "

"Quiet," the second, a bald older Gith male, spat. "Find the Astral Prism, Therezzyn - my patience falters."

"Yes, ch'r'ai," Therezzyn obeyed, immediate and curt, before turning around to her gawking gaggle of soldiers. "You heard him! GO!"

All of them lingered, shifting their weight and looking between each other, some resting hands on their hips in an almost defiant manner.

The bald Gith surveyed them with impassivity, before piping in, "Do as she says. She remains your kith'rak. For now."

Therezzyn scowled, wrinkling her nose as she glanced over her shoulder at the other Gith leader that had already turned his back, dismissing the entire affair without another thought about it.

Kytes took a slight step further in, pushing the door open more properly as Therezzyn removed the top red gemstone - one that must have been as big as his arm - from some device. Immediately, the door the bald man had stepped through shimmered and lit up with some sort of veil of light. A magical door of some sort.

He quickly sidestepped as the room full of soldiers quickly filed out past him, not even giving him a glance as they rushed off to do as they were told.

It was only now that he was noticed, Therezzyn sneering at him with a lip drawn back away from her pointy teeth.

"An istik? In my Creche?" She shook her head with a scoff as she stepped further towards a table and fireplace central in the room, fixing piercing eyes on him with expectation as she set the large gemstone down on the table. "Come. Speak."

He glanced behind him at the door, debating just how far he could get if he turned and fled now, but thought better of it. He'd play along for now, just until he could come up with a better plan, and faced her again, walking closer. As he made his way near, he noticed a pair of large, furry shapes just off to the side of her, and almost spiraled directly into a panic seeing the pair of wolf-dogs that were ripping apart and eating the bodies of the two Halfling cultists he'd seen taken prisoner earlier.

[Steady. Now isn't the time to panic.]

He barely heard Rune, swallowing thickly, his heart beating too fast. He blinked once, and he was somewhere else. Dark, vacant, cold streets, long and enclosed on all sides by buildings.

"Well?"

He blinked again, and he was back inside the monastery, dark and musty and surrounded by enemies. Some place far worse than his memories.

Therezzyn was looking at him strangely, her face sharp with impatience.

"Are you going to answer me or not?"

"Sorry. Wha'?"

"I said: you are one of the mercenaries sent to bring me the weapon? I don't have all day, istik."

Weapon? What weapon?

[Don't tell her anything.]

Anything about what?

"Wha' weapon?" He watched her brows furrow and face twist into another sneer, this one slightly confused. He took a steadying breath, trying to ignore the canines nearby gorging themselves on the last people these Gith no doubt 'questioned'. Gods, he didn't know if he could do this. "Wha's loo' li'e?"

"It is a prism, black and red. Small. Nearly round, yet angular. Metal. Adorned with tir'su script. About so," she gestured with her hands, showing its approximate size. "Stolen by 'True Soul' heretics."

It clicked into place in an instant, remembering both Shadowheart's and Rune's words. They were searching for the artifact - the one that he now carried. They were so determined to find it, they were talking about besieging Moonrise Towers until they were nothing but rubble.

"What was that look?" Therezzyn demanded, squinting and leaning closer, inspecting him with a critical eye. "You know something. Do you have it?"

He quickly shook his head. "Dunno anythin' 'bou'--t-tt-t."

"Then stop wasting my time, istik!" she snarled, shooing him off with hands thrown up in frustration. Every hair on his body prickled in alarm as the wolves looked up from their meal, locking eyes with him and licking their lips. Therezzyn gave him another good, hard look, seeming as though she was trying to figure something out. "You are one of the mercenaries we engaged, are you not?"

He couldn't keep his eyes on her. They were too focused on the pair of wolves that were staring him down, apparently not satiated enough with the meals they had right before them enough to disregard him. They must have smelled his fear. They must have decided they liked the smell.

He was struggling to find his voice, but was saved just in time by another Gith youth barging in and interrupting.

"Kith'rak!"

"What is it now?" She snarled. "Can't you see I'm busy?!"

"There's a situation. You should come quickly."

"What sort of situation? Can't someone else handle it?" She looked between the youth and Kytes, still suspicious.

"I don't think so kith'rak. Its Ghustil Stornugoss. Its urgent."

"What could she possibly want now?" Therezzyn snarled and stepped around the table, pointing at Kytes as she went. "You, mercenary. Stay there until I get back. Don't move."

Just like that, she was gone, and Kytes had the feeling that if he didn't go now, he would quickly run out of time. He eyed the large stone left on the table, then the wolves as he moved and took it, but they didn't seem to care, only watching him with low growls that made his breathing catch.

He stiffly moved away from them without totally turning a blind eye to them, touching his hand to the shimmering doorway that blocked his way, finding it as solid as stone beneath his hand, before sliding the gem into the slot he'd seen Therezzyn first take it out of. The magic immediately deactivated to let him through, but it didn't go unnoticed, a voice coming from the device.

"Who would be - ?" There was a long pause, then thoughtful, foreign recognition from the male voice belonging to that earlier bald Gith. "Ohhh. It is you. Make haste towards me. We have business to conduct."

Hesitating a few beats, he started through the door and surveyed the space beyond, a cavernous chamber with elevated walkways and a bridge flanking deep crevasses too deep for him to see the bottom. He remembered the last time he was in such a place not all that long ago, who also kept dogs around, and he really didn't want to suffer a repeat of that. Not now. Not ever.

He didn't immediately see anyone within the corridor, which gave him a moment to calm himself and prepare. He'd only seen the one Gith man head this way, so hopefully he would be entirely alone. If he was extra lucky, there would be another way out ahead, which was the only reason really that he pushed forward.

He sifted through some of his pack supplies for a moment, drawing out a scroll of Detect Thoughts that he'd collected and forgotten about at some point. He could almost feel the snare of this place ready to close around his throat and strangle him, and he needed an edge if he hoped to survive and slip the trap. This would be a good start, at least.

Besides, the more of a fuss these people made about the artifact... prism... weapon... or whatever it was, the more his curiosity about the thing grew. He was tired of half-answers and lies and vague descriptions, especially when it was his life on the line. If Rune wasn't going to tell him, he'd find out about it himself. 

Making his way down the main corridor bridge, still lined in mostly in-tact statues to Lathander, he placed his hands on either large gate at the far end and pushed them open with a heavy iron groan. 

At first, he was satisfied to see only the single figure standing central within the room, arms folded neatly in front of him. The satisfaction was short lived as Kytes moved further inside, glimpsing a guard flanking each side of the door, and two others further in. As he stepped further inside, the gate was shut behind him.

Five potential enemies then, and he was alone. Great. But there looked to be two more narrow halls on either side of the room, so perhaps an alternate escape route was still within his grasp.

"Ah. Our esteemed guest. Please - approach. We have much to discuss."

Warily, Kytes approached him without making a point of looking too closely at any of the others within the room or the side passages, much as he wished to. He couldn't make it too obvious he wanted to avoid this talk and escape. Not until he had things in his favor, first.

"Interesting... my ardents reported that an istik survived the crashed ghaik slave-vessel."

His words came silky-smooth and almost charming, his eyes sizing Kytes up and down with some measure of impressed, but it was superficial and surface-level only, putting on airs. There was something he wanted. Kytes was sure of it.

"You have accomplished much since. I am pleased to finally meet you. I am Inquisitor W'wargaz." Malice alighted in his eyes, leaning in close. Close enough to smell the reek of his breath. Too close for comfort. "I heard there is so much goblin blood on your hands that it soaks their children's nightmares."

He seemed to approve of that. Even take some joy in it.

"To business. I suspect you plucked something precious from the ghaik ship. Something that belongs to us. The weapon. Give it to me."

Kytes squinted his eyes at him, taking an uncertain step back. He couldn't quite tell if his reservations were solely his own, or if he and Rune were simply of a similar mind.

[Don't do it. The weapon is how I protect you.]

So now you feel like being forthcoming?

[I told you before when you asked, its both the weapon and me that are protecting you. If you give it to them, you'll be dooming us both. You and me.]

You never said it was a weapon. In fact, you didn't tell me much of anything about it at all.

"This weapon... wha's----do? Why's----a weapon?"

"What business is that of yours?" W'wargaz hissed, no more ready to explain anything to him than Rune was. "Suffice to say, my queen wants it. But know that you would have been instrumental in stopping the Grand Design." He extended an upward palm. "Hand it over."

Kytes made no immediate moves to do so, tipping his head and furrowing his brows in question.

"Grand Design?"

"The Grand Design is what all ghaik seek." W'wargaz's voice dripped with venom, his eyes filled with hatred and disgust. "The restoration of the Illithid Empire, which spanned the entirety of the multiverse. For centuries, their Elder Brains sought to bring back their dominion. Every plot they hatched, we stopped. But now, they are close to succeeding. Never before could they pause ceremorphosis. Never before could they let the infection spread undetected."

For as viciously as he spoke, Kytes couldn't detect deceit in his words. Much as he tried to find something there, he got the feeling that what he was being told - at least right now - was genuine truth.

And it raised more questions about Rune's part in all of this, and how he'd managed to prevent his transformation.

"You saw the thralls gathered on the ghaik ship. Imagine that, everywhere. Wants, needs, choice - all would cease to be. Everything rendered unto the ghaik. So... the weapon." W'wargaz paused, falling back from honest admissions into placating, deceptive charm once more. "Please."

[Don't give it to him. They tried to kill you once already. They'll try again, especially once they put two and two together regarding the zaith'isk.]

That was one thing Kytes definitely couldn't argue with. Even if they might've worked with him before, they wouldn't now. His eye trailed to one of the passages off to the side, subtly, then back again.

"No."

W'wargaz dropped the act without hesitation.

"Then your illustrious adventure ends here. Hta'zith!"

Kytes' head swiveled to see the guards at his back and the two near each side passage draw their weapons, ready to fight, even as his own hands moved to take out his daggers and lunge towards W'wargaz, his blades parried by the Inquisitor's longsword.

Chances were good he wouldn't be simply making it out of this place alive, but he'd be damned if he went down without a fight.

"Creche Y'llek! With me - to the death!"

#Squidhawk #BG3 verse #drabble

[amecho]

Super excited for Splatoon 3 OuO

Bonus (the squidhawk?):

... Well since there’s no news yet I made some fake updates to tide me over.

I wanted something similar, but also not too close to what’s been shown so far. So I went with braids, curls, and stray ends mostly. I’m so excited to see what new styles are in the game! Now just to wait for real news. :<

#splatoon #splatoon 2 #splatoon 3 #inkling #octoling #get it? 'tide' me over? #haha! I squid myself... #amazynnn art #amazynnn fanart

[th-ramblr]

[Baldur's Gate 3] Squidhawk - #1

[Cross-posted on AO3]

{--a.k.a., I still have BG3 brainrot and I'm making it everyone's problem. This drabble doesn't really deviate from any of the events of the game just yet but I will have other things & additions that do in other related drabbles. Was still a nice exercise in writing! Related video here, for those interested.--}

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The night was quiet, save for the chirping of crickets in the tall grass and frogs along the stiller parts of the river. It was like many other nights he had had before, except the sounds then were different, and the pain was more localized.

Normally he would hear the sounds of dogs braying in the distance, raising the hairs on the back of his head. Perhaps instead, it might be the yowl of cats prowling the alleyways, toms getting into fights for the right to mate with other strays and pets alike. Armor would clank and brush against heavy padded clothing as Flaming Fist marched the streets, looking for anyone that might disrupt the peace in the wee hours of darkness, or be moving about where they weren't allowed to take advantage of the shadows.

His scenery would be that of a maze of tall buildings, stone-brick and cobble roads ever winding their way into a tangled web of foot-traffic paths that curled themselves neatly around the glittering bay.

Sometimes he would curl up in the darkest parts of an alleyway. Sometimes there would be a nice place on the rooftops to stretch out and count stars until his eyes shuttered closed with exhaustion. Where he slept depended on the day, and each day was rarely the same.

This time, there were no bustling streets or the urban stench of the crowded city. The air was calm and crisp, the faintest breeze making him shiver against it. Even if he screamed until his lungs bled, no one would hear him, not even to scream back to shut up.

He was alone; totally and utterly.

Any other time, just a day before, he would have reveled in it, but it would be a lie to say he wasn't scared. Just a little bit...

It took all his concentration to keep even a basic semblance of balance, staggering this way and that like a newborn calf straight from the womb and taking its first steps.

The acrid taste of metallic bile collected on his tongue, bitter and foul, and his breathing came short and labored as his vision swam. Awareness sparked back briefly as his knees struck the ground, and the arm not wrapped around his stomach caught him from falling face-first into the dirt next.

He had been here before - many, many times - but not like this. This was not his usual ailment, where his heart constricted uncomfortably in his chest, hammering too hard and erratic. When the tightness in his chest made his throat lump and his lungs struggle to catch enough air.

All of that was horrible enough as it was, but this was different.

His insides roiled, and what little he'd eaten earlier had long since been vacated, only able to bring up bile and blood. Fire burned through his veins. It crept up his spine until fire gave way to cold numbness, and the inside of his skull felt like his head was under deep, churning water, waves of dark ocean swallowing him whole, indifferent to him as he drowned.

A whimper passed his lips, dragging himself forward across the floor to his sleeping bag. That small accomplishment took all his willpower, and in the dying, flickering light of the campfire, he was worse than helpless. He could feel his very being tearing itself apart, some terrible, alien thing begging to burst free from him and rip at all his seams.

He gasped, swallowing imagined seawater, his eyes rolling back and his consciousness wavering. All he could do was move with the waves, writhing and twisting his body with the push and pull of it.

Darkness.

Darkness all around him.

Where he was, he couldn't say. His eyes were too heavy. The blackness was too deep and cold.

But somewhere in the depths was a spark of warmth, blazing to life.

The darkness hissed and retreated, in some surreal way where water should not have been afraid of fire, but in that moment, the rules changed.

He felt them change, like a physical force. Intangible. Unexplainable.

And a voice, urgent yet relieved; entirely foreign, yet strangely familiar.

As his eyes flickered open, he put a face to the voice that should not have been there; a face with eyes that glowed a ghostly blue, a splash of flowing red framing his handsome features, adorned in golden plate and fine maroon silks.

The dark forest had given way to something - somewhere - else. A sky of pale lavender and blue, streaked in clouds and dotted with stars unknown to him. Boulders in the near distance defied gravity, gently hovering in place

"I came just in time. You are transforming..."

Confusion knitted his blond brow, before another wave of pain struck him and he recoiled away, screwing his eyes shut.

A flash of somewhere else slammed back into his mind, a memory...

Creaking and groaning; the sound of wounded metal as air rushed past with a roar even louder than that of the dragons that had ripped limbs from the flank of the alien ship and scorched the internals of it with flaming breath.

The stillness inside the containment chamber was broken all at once as the machine popped open, wind whipping through carrying the smell of cinders and smoke that billowed out the open gash of the hull.

His first steps out of the short-lived prison were clumsy, striking his knees on the ground as he stumbled, before staggering upright and clutching his head with a hiss. He could still feel that disgusting worm as it slithered behind his eye and burrowed into the flesh of his brain, entirely unwelcomed and entirely uncaring.

Massaging the pit of his eye with the palm of one hand did little to help alleviate the ache, panting on thick, hot air and squinting one eye all around the chamber tinted by flames and red lighting. Another hiss through his teeth, clutching his head as he felt the damn thing squirm and pinch inside his skull, almost doubling over with curses flying through his mind.

Outwardly, all the escaped was a whine, pained and lost, trying to ignore the former to get his bearings to cure the latter.

All the luck that flowed through the world, and he truly had none of it. Not before, and certainly not now.

Some might call it a blessing he was even alive, but not him. He would almost rather have just been butchered and killed by that tentacle-faced freak.

Baneful blue eyes settled on the broken pool of pearly-yellow brine, broken and spilled over, only a few of those wriggling things still clinging to the sides within. He had half a mind to reach inside and squish every last one of those stupid bugs, even if it wouldn't get rid of the one he could feel moving around inside his own head. It would be satisfying, at least.

The moment he touched the sides of the pool though, it violently crumbled, sloshing liquid and tadpoles alike across the floor, hissing against nearby open flames with a foul, acrid stench. He curled his lip back with disdain, crushing a few of the disgusting parasites under his boot.

Still disoriented, but even-footed at least, he made his way from the chamber lined with blackish-metal pods, traversing into other parts of the alien ship.

At his back, the rest of the memory that played out was not his own.

The same golden-armored figure strolled at his back, through the flames and carnage of the ship that was hurtling through the Hells, and with a calm and easy tilt of his weight to one leg, stood in front of the pod where the smaller blond young man had just escaped from.

Pale blue eyes gleamed in the firelight unnaturally, and a smile held firm across his face, pleased with the others' - his - escape.

The man's eyes blinked shut, and when they opened again...

They were back in the present, and the corners of the stranger's lips curled upward with an unsettling fondness. He realized, after a moment of looking closer as some of the pain eased, what unsettled him. The man's eyes - ringed with dark black that made his pale hues pop even more - curled up with his smile, but the warmth didn't quite reach his eyes.

A contradiction of warm and cold, just as the man's long red hair was a cascading waterfall of neat, flowing locks conflicting with wild and untamed curls that complimented each other just right. The mess of fiery hair should have melted straight into his reddish ochre skin without differentiation, yet each stood out on their own while blending well together, and freckles that splashed complimentary from one cheek straight across to the other were only interrupted by a single thin scar cutting over the bridge of his nose.

Everything about him was fire, except for his eyes.

His eyes were unmelted ice. The shine of a silver moon.

It was only now that he realized that all of his pain had left him, and he could breathe again, even if he could still taste things he didn't want to think about on his tongue.

He squinted his eyes shut as he pushed himself to sit up, savoring each steady breath, but confusion kept his own pale brows drawn together tight.

If the man kneeling before him noticed, he said nothing of it.

"Who the hells are you?" His voice surprised even himself, coming strong and confident, not the clumsy and broken sentences that he struggled to force out each day. That, in itself, told him that they were in a space divided from the physical world he was used to.

"Your salvation," the stranger answered, with even greater confidence, conviction sharp as a blade. His head tipped, and his eyes were alight with something akin to amusement, perhaps even a touch of mischief and playfulness. "And not for the first time. I've saved you before," he declared, his head lifting ever so slightly with pride.

Confusion deepened, and he looked off to the side, past the redhead and ahead. His first instinct was to scoff; to laugh in his face. His salvation? Saved him? Since when did he ever-

And then it hits him, his face alighting with realization.

Another flash of memory only partially his own, as the alien ship careened from the sky and plunged nose-first towards the ground, streaming smoke and fire in its wake.

As pieces of the ship ripped themselves apart long before impact, a piece of shrapnel flew and struck him in the side of the head, sending him spinning out from the airborne wreckage, as limp as the dead before he ever hit the ground.

But the ground never came. Not as his end, at least.

The wind rushed past his ears so loud he could hear nothing else, and with eyes closed and half-conscious, he waited for his end to finally come, ruefully accepting his fate.

And then, a miracle.

Just as earth beneath him would have shattered his spine and taken his last breaths, he stopped mid-air, suddenly and abruptly, hanging upside down mere inches from the sandy beach as unexplained energy swirled around him.

Cradled him.

Saved him.

As he hung protected in the wraps of magic, the red-haired man stepped towards him out of the murky night, the secret of that moment finally revealed to him.

"I'm here to save you again." The matter-of-factness faded from the man's voice, softening into demure reassurance as the blond's head slowly turned back to him, still coming to terms with the visions and all its implications. "Don't worry. You will not become a Mind Flayer. Not while I'm around." He pushed from his knees to stand, offering a hand to pull him to his feet. "I'll protect you."

Still reeling from the revelation from moments ago, he could only wrinkle his nose in disbelief, recoiling away and pushing himself to his feet with his own palms.

As he turned his head back, he caught a flicker of something in the redhead's half-lidded eyes, but it was gone before he could figure out what it was, and before it could vanish behind exasperated amusement.

"Stubborn... A useful quality."

Shifting his weight from one leg to the other, Kytes looked first one way and then the other, taking note of the scant structures around them. Pale, stone ruins adrift on a small island of black stone, ferns peppering the ground while vines and flowers tangled themselves up a wooden trellis.

The red-haired stranger pitched his weight back and swiveled around to start walking, giving him his back, and while reservations still ran high, something in the quality of the man's voice bade him follow, almost like an enchantment.

"We haven't much time, so listen closely." He had never willingly walked with someone like this before, but in the moment, it felt natural and right, listening even as his eyes curiously wandered the liminal space. "There is great potential within you. It comes from that parasite. Your instinct is to resist the power it gives, but you must accept it." He turned to face him, pale blue locking with pale blue, his eyes begging Kytes to listen and believe him. "Nurture it. I will keep it from consuming you, but for the sake of both of us, you must learn to wield it."

The corner of his lip scrunched skeptically, his tilting down to the side. Nurture it? Wield it? He wanted it gone. He wanted to be rid of it.

And he certainly didn't trust the promises of a stranger, no matter what he claimed to offer.

He came out of his thoughts quickly as the other man beckoned with a sweeping hand, eyes glowing a bright purple now as a same-colored shimmer overtook a sea of floating rocks and brushed them aside.

Cautiously stepping forward to the edge, he watched in awe as the stones parted, revealing one of the strangest sights he had ever laid eyes on: the mass of a giant skeleton distantly floating in space, explosions of colors and lights blooming around it like fireworks.

Within the inside of the giant skull, which easily dwarfed many buildings he had seen, shimmering black plates rimmed in color like broken glass formed a sphere which constantly shifted and undulated.

As he squinted closer, he could see that the flashes of light were of humanoid form, diving and twisting through the air like circus acrobats made of pure energy, different colors chasing each other and clashing in battle.

"A fight for the fate of Faerûn. A fight we are losing." A pause. "For now. You can change that, but only if you embrace your potential."

The man looked ahead again as a warrior of purple energy closed in on another whose shade was blue, blasting it with energy so that it writhed and thrashed in pain before exploding and ceasing to exist.

Kytes noticed with some wariness as the man's eyes tracked the purple warrior that darted after another opponent, a low growl in his throat and his eyes like a wolf sighting prey.

His words were a whisper, but a grim edge underlined his words. "I have to go. The enemy is closing in." He shifted his eyes to Kytes again, but the dark look remained. "I will be back."

No sooner had Kytes looked away from the fight and to the red-haired man than the roar of a wave of energy burst out from the skull, spherical and rapidly expanding towards them to devour every stone and object in its path.

Instinctively ducking back and shielding himself, he didn't see the red-haired man raise a hand and a force field with it around them, and by the time he started to look up, another open palm extended in his direction, pushing him far away with an invisible force.

All faded to white, and then black, as an echo of the man's voice followed him into sleep.

"Wake now. You'll feel better. I promise."

#Squidhawk #Baldur's Gate 3 #Drabble #bg3 tav #dream visitor #BG3 verse

[th-ramblr]

[Baldur's Gate 3] - Squidhawk #22

[Cross-posted on AO3]

As a massive BOOM rattled the mountainside, it was all Kytes could do to cover his ears with both hands and curl in on himself, praying to no one in particular that nothing particularly large and heavy hit him as dust and sharp debris pelted him. As inexorable as the sun itself, the crystalline lance pierced its heat straight through the monastery rooftop like a hot knife through butter, punching from top to bottom with a deadly, scorching ray that he didn't imagine much of anything within the Creche could've survived.

And all the better for him.

If anyone was still left within that place, he didn't imagine they would be getting out any time soon, or perhaps at all, as the already-crumbling pillars and vaulted ceilings groaned a death knell, slipping on its own foundations and crumbling like a massive, wounded beast at the end of a successful hunt, brought down to its knees with its skull crashing into the dirt.

Instinct told him to move, that he needed to put up more distance, and he scrambled to his feet without looking back until he knew he was long out of reach of the place.

When he finally looked back, safe upon a cleft of rock just off the path, he saw pillars of smoke rising from trees scorched bare and stacked across the rubble of the monastery that landslid down the front courtyard and dumped broken stone into the river valley below.

If there were any survivors, they'd have a Hell of a time getting out, which meant he wasn't likely to have pursuers for some time.

Good.

His eyes finally trailed to the glowing mace in his hands as it radiated golden light from the red gemstone within its center. It hadn't been his intention to take it, but as he found himself cornered in the very last known room of the Creche, heavy gates tied together by the handles as he heard Githyanki trying to break it down from the other side, luck and a little bit of intuition had found him.

When he'd figured out the two statues in one of the side rooms moved, rotated, he'd played around with them, and managed to reveal a hidden door. The last thing he'd expected to find was this thing, carefully tucked away in hiding, perhaps unknown even to the Gith that inhabited this place.

What was it the old texts had called this thing? The Blood of Lathander?

There was no way the Githyanki had known where it was, if it was still here. A holy artifact that had to be worth a lot of money, for certain, if he found the right buyer. It could set him up for the rest of his life to be comfortable, if he managed to live that long, which meant he'd have to tuck it away and make sure no one else ever found it that he didn't want to know about it.

What he hadn't expected - and he probably should have - was that taking it would bring the entire monastery crashing down on their heads, but in the end, it had all worked out. He was free, safe, and alive, and he probably wouldn't have been if he had fought the Gith head on.

It was a victory he'd be all too happy to take, breathing out in relief as sore exhaustion permeated his every limb.

He carefully wrapped the mace and put it away somewhere at the bottom of his pack, before setting off up the road again. Some of the Gith had been sent out into the field, he remembered, and he'd like to get away from this place swiftly, before they returned.

As he went, he fished the Prism from a small bag at his belt, looking it over and tracing the lines of its shape with his fingers. It was such a small and curious artifact, seemingly harmless on the surface, but it contained so much. He tried reaching out with his awareness, but he received no answer. For now, at least, Rune was quiet again and seemingly nowhere to be found, but it wasn't the first time.

He supposed he'd only have to trust that he'd hear from him again soon, even as a sea of questions as deep as the Astral void swam through his mind.

For now, he'd have to focus on finding his way towards Moonrise Towers.

And finding a good place to camp and finally rest properly.

-------------------------------------------------------

Up the trail, one of the road markers pointed westward, marked Moonrise Towers. It wasn't exactly the first time he'd found such a marker, but he recalled how the road had been patrolled before by undead.

Now, the undead were properly dead, cut down by... someone. Who that was, he could only guess, but he didn't really care at the moment, so long as they didn't attack him next. At the very least, people could be talked to, to some extent. The undead craved one thing only, and it wasn't a conversation.

To further his point, the trail upwards was littered with corpses half-eaten, organs and limbs scattered about, the soil soaked with blood. Bodies of Gith, humans, and animals alike, savaged by the teeth of ghouls that now lay just as still and unmoving as their prey.

The sun was cast firmly over the valley, casting it in golden hues, but as he crested over the hill and rested his palms on the stone fencework of the mountain trail, the sky ahead of him was as dark as a midnight storm yet too calm to be one. No thunder rolled through the sky, nor flashes of lightning.

The trees and brush that stood proudly within the light of the sun were a stark juxtaposition to the gnarled, bone-white, bare branches of sickly red-leafed trees that twisted their way through the shadows beyond, suggesting that the sudden dark was not merely a passing rain cloud.

The bridge to his right that had once passed above the dark valley stood shattered and half-fallen, held up only by tangles of the same dead-white trees that bore no leaves, only bulbous hollows lined in an array of pits that almost reminded him of an insect nest. Whatever things might have crawled out of there or nested within, he didn't want to know.

Below, his options were barely any better. The path was still walkable, but the further in he looked, the darker it became, until all he could see was the hazy impressions of what might still be the road.

As he descended the path and the last rays of light became blocked by the cliffs, he noticed a last standing pillar, the plaque upon it broken off and fallen into the dirt.

The words read Walk in the way of dawn, for Lathander cannot protect you where the light doth not reach.

He skeptically eyed the rickety wooden and rope bridge just ahead of it, even as he stepped across. The drop below wasn't terribly deep, but it was deeper still than he'd like to fall, or have to climb out of, and judging by the haphazard way that boards stitching it together jutted in all different directions, it seemed as though someone at some point had definitely fallen through.

The air around him became eerily still, as even the chittering of eagles and songbirds failed to reach him along this road, and rickety sign-posts crudely made and ready to rot back to the earth stood in warning.

Do not walk in darkness. Turn to the light.

Beware of the shadows.

DO NOT ENTER.

The signs were more than written things. All around what may have once been a camp and a firepit, he saw the corpses and skeletons of small animals. Rabbits, blue jays, song birds, goats, what may have even been horses and cattle...

Strangely, none of it was touched by predators or scavengers, despite the smell of deep rot that made his nose wrinkle. He poked at one of them with a stick, noticing how much of the corpse had decayed to the point of becoming almost soup-like inside its rib-cage, yet not even maggots crawled within its chest cavity gorging on the free meal.

Whatever this place was that he was about to enter, it seemed like not even the flies dared to venture in. He took a deep breath, wondering just what he was in for, but the signs had been clear, and so had Halsin's warning.

Beyond this place was the Shadow-Cursed lands, and so was Moonrise Towers. If he wanted to reach the source of the Absolute, he would have to go through, despite his reservations.

And so, go through he did.

---------------------------------------------------

Throughout his life, Kytes has had many nightmares. Some of them were pure memories of the worst kind, of being hurt by people he knew, and people he didn't. Some of them were exaggerated in his mind, especially as a child, seeing the people who had hurt him warped and twisted into monsters that even goblins and gnolls might cower from, to the point that he would sometimes wake up screaming, or be woken up by someone annoyed that he was.

For all intents and purposes, the bad dreams he had had throughout his life were relatively normal, he thought, when compared with this place.

Even when his mind was at its deepest depths of unconsciousness, at its most maliciously creative, it had never managed to string together any of the ideas that this place made in reality.

Every tree was gnarled and twisted into grotesque shapes that could easily be monsters themselves, pitted with empty hives that implanted themselves within the husk of the trunks themselves.

Occasional thin beams of light managed to punch through from the clouds above, but they were nothing more than a taunt in an otherwise impenetrable ceiling of deep, dark clouds. A false promise of sunlight beyond the overcast sky.

Black tendrils like echoes of fire and plumes of pitch black smoke were swept along by a wind that didn't exist, forming an ever-shifting wall of darkness, while sickly green imitations of light writhed upward from below and snaked across the path ahead, as though trying to reach for something far out of its grasp.

A miasma of particles floated on the wind, feather-light spores and dust and obscure black shapes like the ashes blown off from an active, raging fire despite that there was no breeze to push and pull it, yet it danced on the air all the same to a silent, breathless tune.

Every bush or strand of grass flanking the sides of the road was burnt-black or blood red, not a single shade of natural green or brown to be seen, nor the rainbow beauty of wildflowers sprinkled among the fronds.

And the air.

The air itself felt wrong and sick, and he felt as though with every breath he took, this place took a little more, stealing the oxygen from his lungs. His heart palpitated in his chest, goosebumps all across his skin and shivering cold despite being covered shoulder to toe. Every instinct in his body screamed and howled to run.

Run, and never look back.

Nausea made bile rise in the back of his throat, all of his senses strained for dangers that he couldn't see or hear or taste, but danger that was very real. This wasn't just paranoia. Not just blind anxiety for the unknown.

Whatever this place was, it was evil, and no amount of warning could have prepared him for it.

Strangest of all in this place was the sheer relief he felt at seeing anything alive and natural, even if it was a short, stout goblin waddling her way towards him with a torch in-hand, well-armored as though to fight, and yet he could see it in her too; the raw, primal, wise fear in her eyes, knowing that no living thing should step foot here, not even a goblin.

"Are- are you... the True Soul?" Her voice quivered, unable to keep it steady. Not in this place. Pretenses and airs didn't matter in this place. Only the foolish and the dead would be too prideful not to be afraid.

"An' who're you?"

She made no time for introductions, her breathing short and quick as though she'd been running a very long way, but he wasn't so sure that was the case.

"I'll take that as a yes. Grab a torch, stay outta the dark, and move fast. The shadows have eyes. Go on."

She wasn't even paying attention to him, nor questioning who he really was, her eyes darting about the shadows all around them as he took a torch from the standing brazier nearby and started to walk. Along to his left, a road sign stood tilted and half-eaten by the trees that broke apart the edges of the path.

Reithwin and Moonrise Towers - West.

At the very least, he knew he was going the right way, but he wasn't sure he was ready to keep going just yet. He made it just far enough away from the goblin to be out of sight, and broke off to the side, looking for somewhere that he could set up a small camp for himself. Luckily he didn't have to search far, though he did climb his way up some of the cliffs away from the deeper shadows, making a fire pit and laying out his sleeping bag for the night... or day, or whatever time it was.

Really, he couldn't tell right now, but it hardly mattered. He was exhausted, and it took no time at all for him to fall into a deep sleep, even as he instinctively curled himself into a self-protective little ball, listening and waiting for the sign of anything that might come to attack him up until the last moments where the darkness of sleep plunged him down into a safer darkness...

----------------------------------------------

"The voice of the Absolute is strong here."

Kytes' eyes cracked open, breathing out deeply through his nose as his mind struggled to focus, finding bluish stone underneath him instead of ashy dirt, lush green fronds of grass surviving between the cracks instead of blood red tendrils. The ominous stillness and muffled shrieks of unknown, dark creatures in the distance was replaced with the muted yet pleasant hum of the Astral Plane.

He blinked and shook his head, dragging himself up onto his side to look at Rune, his brows furrowing and head tilting. For once, he wasn't dressed in the golden plate armor, nor the deep maroon silks, that he had come to know him to have. Instead his body was wrapped in a much more revealing and casual, yet still fancy robe, his neck and arms adorned in fine gold jewelry.

"And getting stronger." Rune sighed, shaking his head subtly from where he leaned against one of the ruined pillars, his voice a little bit strained. "I don't know how much longer I can resist it. But its good to see you're making progress." He turned a cheeky smile towards Kytes, pushing off the pillar and moving towards him, taking a seat just out of arm's reach of him.

As Kytes rolled from his hip to sit up a bit more, Rune shifted to get comfortable, resting an arm over his knee and simply staring outward ahead, breathing out another sigh that was more relaxed.

"I promised you I wouldn't keep you waiting long, and I know you have questions. So... let's talk."

It didn't take long for Rune to smirk at him as his eyes lowered, once again struggling to find anything to say now that he was put on the spot.

"At least, once you figure out what you'd like to say." The redhead's voice carried the lilt of a small laugh undertoning his words, before they softened further in understanding. "Its alright. I know this is still new to you."

Kytes merely nodded, lacing his fingers together and looking at the ground. Silence stretched, before Rune took it on himself to start the conversation instead.

"Now that I think about it more, you took an unexpected route here. With saving the people in that grove... the druids and the refugees. That was very brave of you to do."

Kytes scoffed a bit, looking away. "I didn't do it for them, and it was a fat waste of time. I regret it now more than anything. I should've just skipped on past all of them. The druids, the Tieflings, the goblins..."

Rune hummed. "Our task is more important, yes, but don't think it such a small thing to tend to the lesser needs of others. You never know when it will come back around to help you. For what its worth, I think you did the right thing. I think you're better for it."

It was Kytes' turn to hum, unconvinced. A comeback itched on the tip of his tongue, but as he turned his head towards Rune, he noticed how the other looked away from him, grimacing with eyes screwing tight as if he was suddenly in pain. He noticed how carefully Rune breathed, as if steadying himself, his focus shifted inward and away from him. He was trying to hide it, but he couldn't hide all of it, his smaller signals still giving him away.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes." Rune's confirmation came too hasty, and a little bit winded, like he was out of breath. His eyes turned ahead, trying to look focused, but there was still distraction in his eyes, a subtle haze of discomfort. "Yes, I am."

Kytes' lips pursed, brows furrowed with concern. After a few beats of hesitation, he made a choice he knew he never would have before now, scooting himself closer to Rune's side. After another beat of hesitation, he leaned into him, side pressed against side, his head resting into his shoulder.

He was surprised to find out just how warm Rune's skin was against his own cool pallor, and Rune - he could sense his thoughts in that moment - was surprised he had deigned to get close, and to offer comfort of all things.

Rune didn't dare to move, not wanting to frighten him away from this fleeting moment of comradery, watching Kytes with a certain distant fascination that the blond didn't entirely understand. He looked back at him, swallowing thickly as he felt his cheeks grow flush, and scooted away again awkwardly to wrap his arms around his knees.

"Its been a very long time since anyone's done that..." Rune hummed slowly, thoughtful, before smiling gently. "For me."

Kytes gave a hum, tucking a stray hair back behind his ear, trying to find anything else to look at before his gaze eventually traveled upwards to meet Rune's anyway, struggling not to break contact again. His voice came small with uncertainty.

"I hope you don't mind..."

"Mind?" He shook his head. "I'm grateful."

A beat of pause. "How long has it been? Since you've been inside here?"

Rune frowned, narrowing his eyes a bit. "In truth, I couldn't give you anything exact. Time... works differently here. Its difficult to explain. Sometimes I can barely even remember what it was like, before..." Just as quickly as he started to reminisce, he grimaced again with a hiss. "It just doesn't stop. We are being bombarded by waves of telepathic energy. Wave after wave with hardly a breath between them. I almost dare not rest." Another breath out through his nose, almost a hiss. "Each wave, a set of orders to the infected. The order for your transformation has been given many times already."

"My transformation?"

"Yes..." Rune drawled thoughtfully, his face easing into something more relaxed as the latest strike of energy faded. "But the orders are oddly erratic. As if the Absolute cannot fully make up its mind. I don't fully understand."

Kytes dropped his gaze again, fidgeting his fingers helplessly. "Is there anything I can do?" Rune looked back at him, and their eyes met again. "To help you?"

"I'm afraid this burden is one that I have to carry... alone. I just hope my powers last long enough to see this through. In any case, the Absolute knows you carry me with you now. It wants to retrieve me, and the power I use to protect us."

Kytes hummed. "Did you steal it to protect us from the Absolute?"

Rune's head ticked to the side. "I stole it from Vlaakith. Her continued rule depends on it. Rather, I was sent to take it from her. As I said, I was infected just as you were, but quite some time before you were. I had no agency, no choice, a slave to the Absolute just like those we are fighting. When they sent me to take the Prism, I found myself... returned. I could think again, be myself again. They didn't count on the Prism freeing me from their control when they sent me to retrieve it," he explained. "But there's a catch. As long as the Absolute exists, I am trapped within the Prism. I can only control the power from inside of here."

"So it isn't really you that's protecting me?" Kytes flinched a little as Rune's gaze turned on him. Something about his eyes felt like a warning. "Its the Prism itself, right?"

"Mmm... yes and no. The power didn't originate with me, that much is true, but without me, it would be useless to you. From within here, I can focus its power, and extend its protection to you. Without me, the only way you would be as free from the Absolute's control as you are now, is to go within the Prism yourself, but then you would be trapped. Its hardly a better alternative."

"And what about others?"

Rune's brows furrowed at him. "What?"

"Others," Kytes repeatedly, licking his lips. "Vlaakith said you weren't alone. You said you were fighting someone... something." He watched as the corner of Rune's lip twitched up a little. "Who else is here?"

"They are-..." Rune paused, searching for the words. "Insurance. More of the Gith. Powerful guards." Kytes recalled seeing the corpses of some of them before, outside the cave. He had thought it strange, but never questioned beyond that. "Vlaakith wouldn't leave a power like this totally undefended. I can tell you this much - they are not allies. They would cut you down the moment they saw you, without asking questions, or giving you a chance to find common ground. Don't worry about them. They are my problem to deal with. Yours is the Absolute and their cultists."

"And what if you're lying to me?" He saw Rune frown, heard him huff a small bit of frustration. "How do I know you don't want this power for the Absolute?"

"Its a valid question," Rune said slowly. "Unfortunately, all I have now is my word. You can choose to believe me, or not, but I have no love for the Absolute, and I don't wish to fall under its control again. To that end, we both need each other. I am the only one who can resist the Absolute's influence, hence its fear of me. Its desperation. The fact that I can use that power to the benefit of others it wants under its control... others such as you, makes me even more of a threat to it."

"What about what Vlaakith said? About you being part of some Illithid Grand Design?" Rune frowned at his question, his eyes turning guarded. "Was that true too?"

Rune breathed out deeply, shifting a moment and looking elsewhere. "In a sense, I suppose she was truthful, but it wasn't by my choice. By all rights, you are just as much one as I am, with that parasite in your head. Regardless of whether you walk around with free will thanks to my protection or enslaved to the whims of the Illithid, the Gith see it all the same. The Githyanki and Illithid have been sworn enemies to each other for as far back as anyone can remember. No one hates the Illithid more than the Gith, because their people were once enslaved under the Illithid Empire."

Kytes hummed, but that sounded like it lined up to some degree with what W'wargaz had been saying.

"You saw already their true intentions for you. Get you to try and kill me, and then kill you too afterwards, before even knowing whether or not you had succeeded. Anything even faintly touched by the Mind Flayers is to be considered a threat, and one they will eliminate with great prejudice, even if you're nothing more than a victim of their schemes. I trust you've come to realize that now?"

Kytes nodded. "And the others you're talking to? You said you're using them to your ends. What makes it any different from me?"

Rune nodded slowly. "At the start, that's all it was. Using all of you, to get what I needed, but never with malicious intent. All of you are a means to an end, I won't lie to you about that, but as is the way of things, as I got to know each of you more, some stuck out more than others. Some I felt more drawn to. Kindred souls, as it were. Besides that, you in particular were... alone. Some of it your own doing, admittedly..." Kytes frowned at him. "But not without your reasons. If we hope to make it through this, no man can be an island, even if your only company is me. If we want freedom - real freedom - then we have to work together, or the Absolute will enthrall us both. I can't keep this up indefinitely."

"I still don't know why you chose me," Kytes muttered. He had been nothing but nasty towards him, and for most, that would've been enough to drive them away.

"Yes, you did try very hard to push me away," Rune teased. "Its alright. I understand. You've been hurt terribly, and you've never been given a chance to heal from it. They saw you as weak, and they took advantage of that. To the contrary, I rely on you because I think you're a lot stronger than even you know you are. I wouldn't stake my life on it otherwise, but even the strong need a helping hand once and a while."

Kytes glanced up at him properly. "Never heard anyone say that before."

Rune quirked a brow playfully, even as he suppressed another grimace. "Well I'm hardly anyone."

A few beats of pause, before Rune opened an arm for him. "Come here. I'd like to hold you, if that's alright."

Kytes squinted. "Why?"

Rune gave a small shrug. "Because I think you need it. Because I think no one else has in a long time without hurting you, and I promise not to hurt you like everyone else has. I want to show you what its like to trust again."

Kytes only stared him down for a long while, not moving. Habitually, his first reaction was to reject him, to put up distance, to bristle and snarl and show his teeth. Yet, he couldn't deny that Rune had kept his word so far, as all the evidence pointed to. He had protected him from the Absolute, saved his life more than once where he didn't strictly have to. When faced with him in the flesh, Rune had offered up his life, instead of taking Kytes'. Now, he was finally telling him more about the things he wanted to know.

And Rune was also right about one more thing.

He was very alone. Alone, and hurt, and lonely. To be held, without being hurt? Without even the threat of harm? He tried not to think about it, most days, but he wanted it so very badly, aware of the tears that pricked in his eyes and the lump choking his throat.

Deciding whether or not to take it was no less a leap of faith than standing on a cliff, deciding whether or not to jump. He could fall, or he could fly, but the likelihood was that he would fall, and he would crash, and he would hurt all over again. Moreso even than the pain holding him back from the edge, from taking that chance.

"Kytes?" Rune's hand reached out, tipping his head up delicately by his chin to meet his eyes, his own icy blue hues unusually warm and sympathetic, a little bit sad, but understanding, and pleading. His voice was as soft as the brush of a feather. "You're safe. Come here."

He shuddered out a breath, before shifting closer, Rune waiting patiently with his arm out until the blond had settled against him how he wanted. Only once he had stopped moving did Rune wrap his arms around him, holding him close and tight, resting his face against the top of Kytes' head and breathing into his hair. For a while he didn't move, daring not to do anything except hold him still and secure, breathing together as one. His ear was rested against Rune's chest, and he could hear the strong, steady beat of his heart, feel his sides rise and fall calmly.

With time, he steadily started to relax into Rune's hold, letting his eyes flutter nearly shut, surrendering to him even when the man's hand moved to pet through his hair in slow, soothing strokes, humming a soft tune under his breath.

Something in him broke all at once, taking in a sharp, shaky breath, vision blurring with a tidal wave of tears. Instead of pull away, he curled further into Rune's warmth, choking out a sob he'd felt like he was holding in all his life.

"Sshhh..." Rune's hand rubbed over his back, still holding him tight, words whisper-soft. "I'm sorry they hurt you so. No one should ever be hurt like that. Its a terrible thing, what they did to you, but you're not alone anymore. I'll be here as long as you need me."

All he could muster in reply was a whimper, daring to slip his arms around Rune's sides, allowing himself to hold onto him in turn. However long passed by, he wasn't keeping track, only that it was long before his crying finally subsided. In all that time, Rune did nothing except for hold him, and hum a song for him.

Safe.

It was still so strange to him. Then again, it was a dream they were in, of a sort. Perhaps that was enough to justify it, but if this feeling could only exist here, then he didn't want to ever, ever wake up.

"You can't stay here forever, I'm afraid," Rune told him. Apparently he was still reading his thoughts. "But one day, maybe, we'll no longer have to worry about anything but us. When that day comes, I can hold you for as long as you want me to."

Kytes breathed out heavily, closing his eyes a moment, reveling in the touch of fingers through his hair.

"It sounds nice." It sounded fake.

"Of course, whether we reach that outcome will all depend on us and what we do from here. First, we have to make sure that Vlaakith never gets her hands on the Prism. Nor the Absolute." Rune sighed into his hair. "Unfortunately... they are both dedicating more and more resources to retrieving it."

Rune sat back a little, his hold loosening, and Kytes sat back as well, looking at him while Rune turned his gaze outward into the nebulous sky.

"The task ahead is monumental... but we're all that stands between victory for the Absolute," he looked at Kytes seriously, the lines on his face grim but sincere. "-and freedom for all. This is not just about you and I anymore. It has become far bigger than us."

This time, when Rune's hand reached out to hold his face, rubbing his cheek gently, he didn't flinch, only leaned into it and closed his eyes until Rune spoke again.

"You must infiltrate Moonrise Towers. Discover the secrets to the Absolute, and put an end to it. So that we can finally be free - you and I both."

Even in dreamspace, after crying so hard, Kytes felt exhaustion pressing in on him, loosely gripping Rune's wrist as he leaned into his palm. "Are you going again?"

Rune half-smiled at him, but something tugged at the corners of his eyes. He seemed tired as well, much as he tried to hide it. "For now. I must rest, same as you, but I'll never be far. You carry me with you after all, and you'll need my guidance as we get closer. Sleep now. The road will only get harder from here, and we can't let our efforts be in vain."

#Squidhawk #BG3 verse #drabble

[th-ramblr]

[Baldur's Gate 3] - Squidhawk #21

[Cross-posted on AO3]

Words fallen on deaf ears.

Again and again, Kytes proved to be beyond stubborn, defiance beyond reason, but he had to listen at some point, didn't he?

That was what Rune kept trying to tell himself at least, but perhaps this was it. The end of the road.

He wasn't so worried about his own survival here. He'd lived long enough to have measures and countermeasures and backup measures. There were still the other Infected he was using and protecting towards his ends, he still had enough power over the Prism to get it out of this place, if he really had to. He was nearly certain of that. Even if Kytes really went through with killing him, it wouldn't have the intended effect, but he would have a good idea of just how far he could trust the blond, which at the moment didn't seem to be very damn far.

That was what he got for putting his bet on the dark horse in the race, he supposed. He was starting to think this particular horse wasn't even on the track though, having proverbially hopped the fence and fucked off into the yonder, taking all his winnings with it.

That was about how he was feeling with Kytes, right about now. He really wasn't sure of whatever he'd thought he'd seen in him, but it was having the worst possible outcome.

He could sense Kytes' thoughts, the same as he sensed his physical presence break the atmosphere of the Astral pocket, an anomalous blip that should not have been. He could sense his almost child-like wonder as he gaped at the void, at its many colors and many more stars. His surprise at just how light his body was, leaping from one rock to the next through space. His curiosity as his eyes scoured the ring marking the way towards where Rune stood, waiting and lamenting.

Under other circumstances, perhaps, he would have found amusement in how easily Kytes became impressed by every new little detail his eyes found, piecing it all together to try and make sense of it.

This was anything but any other circumstances, and he could feel nothing for it except for cold, bitter betrayal. The sharp bite of frostbitten anger burning through the back of his skull. Part of him knows to blame Vlaakith more than Kytes, but how many times and ways did he have to tell the boy not to set foot in that place or trust the Gith? If he had just listened from the start, Vlaakith would never have managed to turn Kytes against him.

And likely, he'd do it just to save his own skin. That was how people were, and he knew already that Kytes had no love for him, nor any trust. His decision would be an easy one, come him or Rune.

So you came, his thoughts, a raw, cold wave of disapproval that he allowed to shiver the others' spine. He was not happy, and he wasn't going to hide that he wasn't. In spite of all my warnings. Disappointing. Come. We will talk in private. Just the two of us.

That was what Kytes wanted, wasn't it? A chance for them to meet, face to face, alone. All his questions answered, answers he wouldn't live long enough to feel satisfied in knowing. He was already prepared for the worst, for the venomous words itching on the tip of his tongue.

Finally, maybe, he would drop the act, the softness, remind him that without his protection, he would already be a Mind Flayer. Was it ideal? No. Certainly not. It was what it was, and he was long ago wondering if it was even worth it, trying to keep the little cretin afloat.

There were others he could easily choose from and who were already doing a better job of staying to the objective, and who needed less help in it. Already, that Sharran cultist, Tiefling ex-soldier, and their Druid companion were on-course for Moonrise Towers. They were the better bet now, objectively speaking, and he regretted entrusting the Prism to Kytes instead of continuing to remain with Shadowheart.

He almost had half a mind to stab the brat himself once he stepped inside.

And then, hesitation.

He felt it, saw it in his mind's eye, the way that Kytes' body instinctively tensed and his arms clasped close together over his chest, the panic that seized in his throat and made his pulse race. The way that his heart fluttered in his chest, irregular and strained, making it harder for him to breathe.

[Just... give me a moment first.]

They weren't even face-to-face yet, and he could feel just how terrified Kytes was to see him. Even more so than he feared Vlaakith.

Some part of him was twistedly amused by that. Just what reason had he given for Kytes to be so afraid of him? He had spoken to him softly, begged and pleaded with him to make the right choices only for him to make the wrong ones, saved his life more than once...

And Kytes was scared of him.

It was funny, actually. Just a little bit. Funny, and sad. It made him pause. Made him think.

He knew better, deep down. Kytes wasn't defiant against him without reason, at least not in his own mind. He wasn't distrustful only because he thought it fun or out of hubris.

He was afraid.

He was always afraid. At every turn. At every tiny gesture. Everything, a potential precursor to malice, as far as he saw the world. Paranoia so thick he could see nothing else. He couldn't afford to trust. Not anyone. He was weak, and sick, and disabled, and very, very alone.

He had trusted some people, once, long ago, and they had hurt him for it.

He'd learned that lesson younger than anyone should, and it had proven true time and again - that predators flocked to the weak, eager to take their bite.

That fear of everyone was an impersonal thing. An equal distaste for all who dared to get close to him.

But this fear? In particular?

This was very personal. Because Rune had promised to protect him. Because Rune had saved him. Because he had warned him and tried to guide him, and he had been right. Every. Time.

Because some part of Kytes wanted to believe it was real, and he was paralyzed by the idea of confirming that it wasn't. The idea constricted Kytes so tightly that he forgot how to breathe, for a moment.

Anger still burned through Rune, but nothing would be accomplished if he forced the issue on his terms instead of Kytes'. He could read that as clear as if the other had told it to him himself.

A moment. Nothing more.

It would give him some time to process what he was feeling as well, even as his mind came to the logic again and again that he was better off putting his faith in those that were already well on their way to where he needed them to be, without distractions and side-shows.

Still... he didn't like the idea of only having one contingency in place, but was he expecting too much of Kytes? Thinking he might actually get anywhere or get him results? For all the words of encouragement he gave, he knew that it was a long-shot. Things would only get more dangerous as they got closer to Moonrise and the Absolute, and Kytes was determined to go it alone, no matter how good the company offered to him was. Even with company, there was no guarantee.

Perhaps it would have been better, to simply cut him loose and let him go alone, if not for the fact Kytes had walked right into the nest of the Gith and been identified by Vlaakith herself. Vlaakith and the Gith, who had already made certain to kill their own and leave her corpse to rot on the mountain trail, forgotten and dishonored.

They would hunt him relentlessly, now, no matter how far he ran. It would be nothing short of a miracle for him to get out of this ruined monastery alive.

He sighed, even as he listened to the distant booms of his foes holding their defense, his eyes watching the undulating sphere of colored shards within the skull cavity of the giant skeleton floating through space.

Until they managed to destroy the source of the Absolute, he was just as much a prisoner here as they were, and they certainly didn't want to make things easy for him. Worst of all, now he had to worry about making sure they didn't get anywhere near Kytes, even as he sensed his thoughts of wanting to get closer to that place, curiosity nagging at the blond's mind.

Luckily, there were no gaps short enough for him to make such a leap, not even in low gravity.

That didn't mean it was safe.

At last, Kytes wandered back to the entrance, his pulse steadier and his thoughts calmer, but some of them were firmly closed off to him, deliberate in shutting him out.

So... did that mean he had decided then? To go through with Vlaakith's will? Disgusting. He had hoped it wouldn't come to this, hoped it still wouldn't, but people more often than not disappointed him.

He supposed they would just have to get this over with.

You ARE the one in charge, aren't you? His thoughts softened, losing the earlier biting edge they held, replaced by sorrowful resignation and the knowledge that if he bared his fangs at the door, no doubt the other would turn tail and run again, like a skittish stray cat. Come in.

He dared not look back as Kytes approached, moving up the stairway and to the small, private space where they had so often met in dreams. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath and steeling himself for the confirmation that he, too, dreaded.

"I may have made a mistake trusting you."

Right.

On to business, then.

----------------------------------------------

When Kytes came before him, there was something he was guarding, in his thoughts, and he was determined to keep it well out of reach.

What exactly that was, Rune couldn't be sure, but he knew two things.

Firstly, Kytes knew he would be searching for something there, and didn't trust him enough to know what it was.

Secondly, something about those thoughts held intent - intent of exactly what, he couldn't be sure, though the most logical guess was that he planned to go through on what Vlaakith had told him to do, and kill him. It was the most obvious path, especially with the power Vlaakith had exerted over him, showing Kytes that she could kill him with but a thought.

Most any creature with any sense of self preservation would do as she deigned. That was simply the obvious choice, when there was no real loyalty between them.

Yet, Kytes surprised him, just a little. He tried to peer a little closer into his thoughts, unsuccessfully, but the flavor of intent wasn't that of a killer, and he knew full well that the blond was quite capable of murderous intent. He knew what it felt like, when Kytes was focused on the kill, as he fought goblins and worgs and gnolls, or killed the Zhentarim's last surviving caravan guard for his cargo.

This was different. Killing him wasn't even on the blond's mind.

So what was?

First he would have to sift through the surface thoughts of fear, as Kytes seemed to almost expect the same from him. A threat. A strike meant to end his life, or worse, to make him suffer.

It would be a lie to say it didn't cross his mind when his anger had burned hot earlier, but now, he had no such intention. He was tired of trying to prove himself trustworthy again and again, but prove himself once more he must. He was sure that if he made even the slightest misstep here or acted out of malice, Kytes would take that as plenty enough proof to never trust him again.

When Kytes said he only wanted to talk, he had to force himself to relax, despite his own reservations. If he wanted the other to open up, to be vulnerable with him, then he would have to be vulnerable first, and at least somewhat genuine.

Even then, there was no telling it would work.

"Why'd you-----the zaith'is' from removing the parasi'e?"

Rune couldn't help but lift his head, squinting. He had a suspicion about that question, but he could entertain it later. He remembered how Kytes had so urgently meant to leave the Creche, that he had understood perfectly well what had happened.

So why was he acting as if he'd suddenly forgotten now? He knew Kytes had some problems with his memory, but this wasn't a moment of forgetfulness. He was sure of that.

Then what purpose did that question pose?

"I don't know how you don't understand yet. The zaith'isk was going to kill you. I couldn't let that happen." Rune sighed heavily. "It is the very least of Queen Vlaakith's deceptions."

Kytes quirked the corner of his lip skeptically, tilting his head.

" 's a pre'y lie you say."

"There's no lie. I would never lie to you." Not about that. He genuinely didn't want Kytes to die, and wouldn't allow him to if he had any say in it. "Vlaakith warned you that I would try to deceive you, but consider: what reason have I to deceive you? I want the same thing as you - freedom. I'm on your side. I have been since the very beginning."

Kytes hummed unconvinced, staring him down with calculation in his eyes, and it wasn't long before he felt - not for the first time in his life, but certainly the first time from Kytes - as the other tried to do the same to him, to dive into his thoughts, reveal the secrets being withheld there.

He clearly didn't know just whose mind he was trying to invade, but the attempt filled Rune with a spark of genuine amusement.

"That was uncalled for. Though a spell well cast." And it also meant that Kytes was learning. It wasn't through the use of any tadpoles they had collected on their journey so far, he knew that much, but it was still a shift of thinking in the right direction.

Perhaps there was some hope here after all. If they could talk sense and come to an understanding, maybe he could also convince him to embrace the tadpole more, and once he did, he would have no need for spell scrolls to peer into the thoughts of others.

One step at a time though.

He sighed. "I suppose I can't blame you. You are threatened by the tadpole, and you think I prevented it from being cured. Furthermore than that even... you think I have some ulterior reason for wanting you to become even more deeply infected, to hurt you. Perhaps, even... to make you even more into one of the Absolute's pawns?"

Kytes' expression was enough to confirm it.

"Very well. See for yourself." He let Kytes see and feel it all. No alterations, no omissions, no lies. The fear, the anxiety, the feelings of wishing he could do more. The annoyance and frustration, the sense of knowing all the odds stacked against them and how all it would take was one single misfortune to end their journey there - and a few times that almost had. The fondness and curiosity for this strange, different young man, and his revulsion at the world that could be so imperfect and cruel without sense or logic. The pain of rejection he felt, each time he tried and failed to reach common ground, and the despair of knowing that someone he had tried to trust and whose life he had safeguarded may have come to end his own.

He let Kytes experience all of it. The truth. They were allies, and he had never once thought to harm him.

Pity was too condescending. He sympathized with his troubles, but he didn't pity him, nor saw him as pitiful. Feral, more like. A wild animal, with teeth and claws poised to strike, to survive.

It just so happened that he had also been a target of those teeth and claws, which had scored him again and again. If it won him - them - their freedom though, it was a small price to pay.

He didn't quite expect these feelings to overwhelm Kytes as they did though, and he expected even less that they would make him cry, his brows furrowing with concern and wonder both.

He realized something in that moment.

Just how deeply Kytes felt.

Just how easily his feelings were swayed by another's pain, when he allowed himself to feel it.

He wasn't cold and jaded and hateful at all, as most would conclude.

He was sensitive.

He was empathetic.

"The Githyanki had no intention of letting you survive purification," even as he spoke the words, his mind was already working on something else, noticing things he had overlooked before. "-and I had no intention of letting you die. And now that you know the truth, what will you do?"

He drew the illusion of a sword from over his shoulder, watching as Kytes took a fearful step away from him, enlarged puppy-dog eyes wary of what he was going to do but frozen in place from trying to run. Rune's own eyes softened as he took a knee, presenting it to him like a gift, waiting to see what he would do with it.

" 's-----a t--t-tt----t-t---t--tt-t----"

"A trick?" Rune finished, his voice dropping low and somber. The blond's thoughts were too jumbled and his defenses disarmed now to properly guard his thoughts, Rune's own tentatively prodding into them, and finally he saw it. The intent had never been to kill him. It had been to test him, and now they were at an impasse of testing each other. They really were quite alike. "I already told you that I'd protect you. That I saved you. That I'm just like you. If this was not enough to convince you, what more is there to say?"

Kytes' eyes narrowed, lips pursing, holding his hands clasped close to his chest, his feelings twisting thick with guilt, and sparked with a mutual defiance against Vlaakith's scheme.

"She wan's-----dead, she'll have----do i' herself." Both of them were too smart to fall for it, Rune was glad to know. He smiled genuinely as he pushed to his feet again, awash with relief.

Finally, they were dangerously close to standing on friendly ground. It was a start.

"It seems I was right to put my faith in you after all. Thank you. Vlaakith will be furious. She fears nothing more than the loss of her empire. The knowledge I have of her deception would bring that about."

[If you're such a threat to her, why hasn't she killed you already?]

"She is trying her very best to kill me. By sending you. Vlaakith is lying to her people. She wants me dead because I know the one secret she never wants getting out, a secret so great that she would cease to be a God in their eyes. What better way to be rid of two problems at once than to send both of her enemies to kill one another? The risk is too great to send one of her own, lest they find out what she doesn't want them to know."

[What sort of secret could be that big?]

"She pretends to know how Gith destroyed the Mind Flayer empire. In truth, she knows nothing. If the Illithid Empire were ever to return, she would be incapable of stopping them," a fact he was confident in, and couldn't help but grin self-assuredly. "-and if her people found out about her impotence, there would be mutiny, revolution, and end to her rule. But that very power - the power to resist Illithid control - which Vlaakith only pretends to know," he paused, reaching out and carefully brushing tears from Kytes' eye with the pad of his thumb, pretending not to notice how he flinched away a little. "-is how I've been protecting you. I suppose she hoped to extract it from my corpse. Since you spared me that fate, she will come for you."

[So what do I do? There's no way out.]

For once, Kytes was looking to him for help, rather than just blowing him off. Hopefully it wouldn't be a one-off, forgotten about once the danger had passed.

"I did warn you not to come here, but that curious streak of yours has brought us this far. I believe you will overcome this too. You'll figure something out." He sighed, frowning. "I've delayed long enough. The next attack is overdue and I can't have you caught in the middle of it. I need you out there, searching for the Absolute."

"Wai'!" Kytes stepped forward. "No' ye'."

[I have questions. Things I want to know. You can't just send me on my way again expecting me to be satisfied with barely knowing anything! This isn't fair! I FINALLY found you and thought I was going to get answers, but mostly all I have is more questions! Don't do this to me!]

Rune sighed, even as he noticed how Kytes' eyes searched his own, wounded as though Rune was sending him away forever, never to see each other again. How tear tracks made some of his freckles shine, how his pale cheeks and eyes ran pink with distress.

Despite the heavy scarring across much of his face and the way his thin cheeks indented, despite the dark bags beneath his sunken eyes, he was cute and almost androgynously feminine. If life and his health had been a little kinder to him, likely he would have been a prize pursued by both men and women and been able to climb the social ladder off of looks alone, but life hadn't been kind and people were judgmental of even the most superficial tarnish. Despite all that, Rune could easily envision what he could have - would have - been.

Yet despite how much had gone wrong, he was still something to behold. Of that, he was certain.

Rune reached out to hold his head gently. If Kytes wanted to, it would have been easy to pull himself away, but the blond didn't.

"I know its not fair... but I told you. It isn't safe here. You never should have come to begin with." A few beats of pause. "But I suppose I'm glad that you did, if this is what it took for you to finally trust me, even a little."

[Where is this place? Or - what is this place? Why did you hide it from me?]

Another soft huff, knowing that Kytes was trying to stall longer, to get answers to the questions he desperately wanted to know now. They didn't have that luxury. He'd already let Kytes linger here too long, and part of his attention was on the distance, knowing that the enemies were dangerously close.

"The Gith called this a weapon... but that's not wholly true. More than anything, it is a prison. Commissioned by Vlaakith, built in the Hells." He growled, curling his lip back. "A place for all who threaten her to wilt and die. If you don't leave, and soon, this might become your prison too. Barring that, your tomb. I don't think either of us want that. I need you to leave. Now. Before they come."

[Who?]

"They are the stuff of nightmares, and no concern of yours. This is my battle to fight, and your battles are out there. You were on the right path, to Moonrise towers. Return to it."

A stretch of silence, Kytes' eyes - wet and blurred - downcast. With pursed lips, Rune let him go at first, and then dared to move closer, arms encircling him slow and careful, holding him gently as though he might shatter in his hold otherwise. He half-expected Kytes to yank away from him with how he tensed and his body trembled, to snarl and hiss, but he didn't. Even as his pulse hammered loud, Kytes remained in his hold, even as fingers stroked through his hair with a feather-light touch.

"When these battles are won, we will talk again, and I promise I'll answer whatever you want to know that I'm able to tell you. Alright? Very soon. I won't keep you waiting long again."

[And you'll tell me this time?] His thoughts were small; tentative; unsure. In some ways, he was so much like a child, still trying to learn the basics of the world that he didn't quite understand.

"Yes, I will. I swear it. That can only happen once we both survive this ordeal though. I hope you're ready to face Vlaakith's wrath. The entire Creche stands ready to kill you in her name."

[I don't know that I can do this.] 

If they had a choice, he wouldn't make him, but they didn't. One way or another, they would have to face down the enemy, no matter the odds.

"You can. You will. I believe in you. You're a survivor, more than most I've ever known. You'll figure something out." He let go and stepped back, smiling as he carefully tipped Kytes' head upward to look at him. "Go now, little bird. Show them how well you fly."

Kytes was still uncertain, but he nodded, turning back for the way he had come. He paused down the first couple of steps, swiveling to look back at Rune. Rune simply nodded, silently urging him to go, and Kytes did, disappearing more quickly down the stairs and out through the stone tunnel, to an open portal that awaited where he had first come in.

Rune waited, following Kytes' movements in his mind every step of the way until he was gone from the Prism and through the Planecaster, back into the jowls of Rosymorn Monastery.

I'm glad you came to your senses, Rune praised, even as he readied for his own fight. Now leave, before more of them come.

#Squidhawk #BG3 verse #drabble

[th-ramblr]

[Baldur's Gate 3] - Squidhawk #20

[Cross-posted on AO3]

He wasn't sure exactly how he was still alive. By all rights, he should have been dead ten times over, especially when darting into the side passages on either side of the room found them to be nothing more than dead ends.

Yet, as W'wargaz's body fell at his feet, spilling his life-blood down cracks in the tile floors, he was still breathing.

Hard; but still breathing.

Just as quickly as the fight had ended and he thought he was alone, a booming voice that echoed all around the room startled him, making him grip his weapons at the ready with eyes wide and panic clawing at his throat.

"Inquisitor W'wargaz was potent. We are impressed."

No matter where he looked, he saw nothing and no one, until a flash of golden light momentarily blinded him from the circular golden platform in the middle of the room, which he'd previously given little thought towards. As he cracked his eyes open, an elderly Gith woman stood before him, shimmering radiantly with ethereal light, her eyes aglow and her lean figure adorned in bejeweled clothing and a crown.

What was most startling about her, however, was just how giant she was, standing almost to the height of the ceiling.

"You are permitted to look upon me," she said, staring him down with a self-important arrogance that shone just as brightly as the light around her. "You are invited to kneel."

When he didn't, standing just as he was - exhausted, speechless, and confused - her momentary grin soured into a frown, her eyes narrowing.

Instead, it was her that took a knee, lowering herself down closer to his level to get a closer look, and he found himself taking a few steps back as he panted, half from the fight, half with uncertainty whether he would need to fight again or flee. Instead, he held his ground, and she studied him carefully, her eyes - each as big as his entire head - meeting his and searching.

"You bear that which is ours. But are you friend, or are you thief?"

It felt almost laughably like a trick question. All his life he'd been a thief. This time though? For once, he had left something right where it should have been, and it had chased him down instead and insisted he take it.

It had chosen to be stolen by him, and for the only time in his life, that was an honest fact.

"Yours?" His words were small. Tentative. He hated to say, afraid. But there was also a touch of laughter there - mania, perhaps - that managed to creep in all the same. "I found i'. 's mine."

"To own something is to know it," she rebuked. "You know NOTHING of what you carry."

His expression - cocky and perhaps a little bit reckless - twisted into a scowl, and yet, he knew she was right about one thing at least. He didn't know a damn thing about the artifact, and no one would just fucking tell him.

She stood to her full height again, extended an upturned hand, and he saw the image of the weapon materialize floating in her hand, as sure as if the real thing were there despite that he had never taken it out to show any of them. It was undeniable now. The item was one and the same as the one they were hunting for.

"The Astral Prism," she explained to him. "It is corrupted. There is someone inside. Their mind is warped, broken - a blight."

Someone inside...?

Could that be...

No. No, that was silly, wasn't it? Inside something so small? But as he thought more and more about it, it made sense.

And the more that he thought it, the more he sensed that Rune didn't want him to come to this realization, a feeling of secondhand dread that flitted out of his awareness and into hiding quickly the moment that it was noticed that he noticed it.

"They are an agent of the Grand Design. Sent to sabotage the Astral Prism - our last defense against the return of the Illithid Empire. As long as they live, the Prism is compromised."

He hummed, tipping his head as he mulled over those words, flipping through his memories of all the times before that he and Rune had spoken, all the times that Rune dodged his questions instead of answering plainly.

Could it really be true? It wasn't so far-fetched that Rune might be working with the Illithid all this time. He had already surmised before that maybe he was only using him, pushing him towards Moonrise as a trap and making him lower his guard. Perhaps he had never been protecting him to begin with.

In fact, maybe Rune wanted just the opposite. Maybe he wanted him to come under the power of the Absolute, and the Prism was somehow blocking it from doing so. If that were the case, he could easily follow the rhyme and reason for the deceit. The motive and the advantage of keeping him in the dark about what was really going on and how Rune supposedly was able to keep him from transforming.

But was he willing to bet his life on that hunch? On the word of a bunch of people who had already tried to kill him twice?

"Find the one inside and kill them. Be aware - they are not alone, and they will appeal to your trust. They are not to be believed. You must accept. Refuse, and know my fury."

He could feel a sense of anxiety, of waiting, and watching. Watching to see what he would do. Both from her, and from the company within his head. Especially from the one in his head.

He closed off his thoughts, just as he could feel that Rune was closing off his, Kytes' eyes flitting with calculation.

He wasn't certain he could trust either of them. Neither the Githyanki, nor Rune. The Githyanki he knew all but for certain were his enemies, which they never pretended otherwise for long, but he had never fully trusted Rune, who had sworn all this time to be his ally.

But now, he was being given an opportunity. One that he had already been searching for. A chance to confront the redhead directly. No more fleeting dreams and disappearances where he could avoid answering him or suddenly become unreachable, leaving him only to wonder.

But first, he was going to start with her, fingers tracing over the Detect Thoughts scroll in his pocket and willing its magic to activate for him, peering into her - Vlaakith's - thoughts.

He was surprised at how easily it was to slip past her outer thoughts once the magic had activated, not having used such spells often before, and even more how quickly he was able to identify what he found. Death, fear, paranoia.

Paranoia about what?

She feared the one inside the artifact more than anything else in the world.

His brows furrowed. Why was she so afraid of him?

There was something else. Something she was hiding. Something big.

He tried to peer closer, to dive deeper, but her thoughts snapped shut and closed him out before he could figure out what it was. Something she didn't want anyone to know. Not ever.

Something she needed Rune out of the way for.

His lips pursed, his eyes squinting with suspicion. He thought on it a moment more, and started to think that just maybe, he was making a mistake.

Like he shouldn't be here. That he never should have been here.

That was neither here nor there anymore. He was here now, and no matter where he looked, he wasn't sure how he was going to get out of this.

"Won'----able----k-kk-k----k-kill 'im. He's pro'ect-tt-t----ting me from the Absolu'e...."

Vlaakith snarled at him, her voice booming loud again. "You are being LIED to! I WILL BE OBEYED!"

He nearly jumped back, eyes going wide again, every instinctual part of him screaming to flee. To put this place behind him and never look back.

Silence. That was the only answer he could muster, and it didn't make her any happier.

"Perhaps you need a demonstration of what awaits you if you refuse."

He didn't even get the chance to run. Whatever power she had - and what power she had - it hit him all at once, searing through every vein like molten lava, contracting the muscles in all his limbs and making his head and heart both pulse with the worst agony he'd ever felt.

It instantly brought him to the floor, gasping all the breath he had out like he'd been sucker-punched in the gut by a champion ring fighter, twitching and writhing on the ground. Gloved fingers clawed at his chest as his heart felt like it was going to explode inside of him, strangling out a hoarse cry as he arched on his back, and then curled into a fetal position as tight as he could, whimpering breathlessly.

It felt like an eternity trapped in torment, like every inch of him was going to rip apart at the seams, and he wished for death. He wished it more than he'd ever wished for anything in his life, for everything to just end.

When her grip over him finally let him breathe again, he gasped like he was drowning, every part of him shaking violently, crawling halfway to his knees only to buckle over again and wretch until there was nothing left to heave up.

Released from his torment, he still couldn't catch his breath properly, bowed small and pathetic at her feet with his forehead pressed into cool stones.

When he finally had enough strength to push himself up enough to look at her, his body still quivering with distress, he saw how she sneered at him with a cruel smile, haughty eyes that knew without a shadow of a doubt that she could snuff his life out then and there, as effortless as blowing on a candle wick.

All he had to do was refuse.

His own expression twisted into one of utter contempt, glaring so strongly that she would have dropped dead on the spot if it was within his power.

But it wasn't within his power.

More importantly, it was within hers.

"Fine." It tasted like choking down poison. "I'll do i'." He watched with revulsion as her grin twisted wider, triumphant. His eyes lowered in defeat. "I'll k---k-kk---kill 'im."

Her form shimmered and glowed blindingly. When she vanished, the Prism hovered in her place, larger now and lazily rotating above the platform.

"Use the Planecaster's power to enter the Prism. Be wary of the creature's lying tongue. Cut it out, if you must."

He swallowed bile and rested a hand on his knee, staggering to his feet and towards the Planecaster, even as Vlaakith's presence faded entirely. He reached out for the projection--

[Don't do it!]

--but it was already too late to turn back. The sharp spikes projecting from each point of its intersecting faces retracted inside if it with a clang, and the object began to gyrate, pulsing waves of heat, and then it flowered. Each metal plate along its surface separated and opened up, rotating around it like many flat moons.

Red energy, hot and chaotic like a flaring sun, surged outward from it, engulfing the room, and him. Somehow, his mind burned hot with excitement that he couldn't explain, and the warmth of it spread through every part of his body until he felt as though his very being was humming with it.

In a flash, he was thrown forward, to - elsewhere.

His eyes opened, and he took in the endless wash of a blue and lavender void, speckled with stars and distant, variable clouds of rainbow awash across the sky he had only before seen in his dreams. Far away booms like muffled thunder reached his ears, while lone islands of rock drifted peacefully over nothing at all, feeling a strange sense of weightlessness to his own body in this place.

As he slowly turned around, his eyes first landed on a shimmering ring, half-encased in luminous crystals matching the pastel shades of the sky, further encircled by haphazardly jagged blue-grey cliffs. Somewhere far on the other side, he saw the very pinnacle of some unknown structure, a triangular spire made of many intersecting pillars deliberately crafted to shape.

For the moment, he was able to almost forget his earlier distress, breathless with wonder instead of fear.

As he stepped to the edge of the stone he was floating on, he felt light as a feather, and leaping across the deep, yawning void to stand before the ringed archway took no effort at all.

Just within the ring, he could see violet shades of energy resonate and ripple like water, and just beyond it was a pathway through the rocks.

From just beyond - he's not sure how he knew that, but he did - a familiar presence slammed into his awareness, making him grimace and hold his head.

[So you came. In spite of all my warnings. Disappointing.] The reprimand came as a physical pain, mild, but there. It was hard to identify every emotion that flooded into him in that brief split second; disappointment, bitter anger, frustration, betrayal, and so many other things, raw and unfiltered. [Come. We will talk in private. Just the two of us.]

Somehow, it felt like a threat, anxiety slamming back in full force. For some reason, the idea of facing Rune now, all of a sudden, felt much more terrifying than facing down Vlaakith, even as she held his life hostage and dangling by a thread.

He stepped back, and knew already without looking, he had nowhere to go.

No doorway.

No side-passage.

No anything.

He clasped his hands in front of his chest as his heart beat again wildly, like a frantic bird trying to escape its cage, knowing that the cat was closing in.

Just... give me a moment first, he told Rune, taking another tense step back.

[A moment,] Rune agreed, easily, short and curt, yet venomously. [Nothing more.]

It was as though his body needed that permission just to move away, gasping on a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. His steps first found the edge of the floating cliff behind him, teetering precariously close, and a small part of him wondered genuinely what would happen if he just stepped off of it.

Instead, he found his eyes tracing the splashes of white and rose and maroon nebulae somewhere far below him, fringed with cerulean and teal hues. He turned away from the edge and paced what surface there was to walk, and curiously found the bodies of Gith and old weapons scattered about, as though a battle had taken place there.

Exactly when, he could only guess.

As he wandered further, pieces of a greater picture began to form, of a sight he had only seen glimpses of once before.

Adrift in the vast, open sky, he first saw the hand of a skeleton, so impossibly large that such a creature - whatever it had been, once - could have only been that of some kind of God.

Around the bones of its wrist was a massive bangle ring. On closer inspection, it almost looked like some sort of shackle. Then, he started to make out the shapes of ribs, split open at the top without a sternum and surrounded by floating, shattered debris.

Further up was the skull, which he had seen once before, its vacant eyes sitting just beneath a jutting crown of woven gold, while the inside of its cranium pulsed and undulated with shards of black edged in a rainbow of different colors, perfectly fitting together to form a sphere.

The sounds of thunder were closer here, and if he listened carefully, he swore he could hear screams and shouts, as though echoing from far away mountains. No matter how he looked, he couldn't see any pattern of stone islands set close enough together that he might be able to make his way towards the giant skeleton from here.

He took his while to collect himself and calm his pulse, which admittedly took some time, but he supposed at the very least, if he was going to die here today, at least it would be beneath such a pretty sky.

Eventually, he found his way back to the passage, and felt Rune's awareness tangle with his as he stood apprehensively just outside of it.

[You ARE the one in charge, aren't you?] There was still a coldness to the question, but he couldn't sense the same cacophony of rolling anger as before. Perhaps Rune had calmed down as well, or perhaps he had only sealed those thoughts off from him.

He hoped it was the former, hearing how Rune's thoughts softened for him, more gently coaxing, [come in.]

Taking a deep breath, he tried to steel his nerves, and stepped through.

---------------------------------------------

"I may have made a mistake trusting you."

Seeing Rune's back facing him as he approached, the redhead staring out into the deep expanse of the astral sea, somehow made him all the more anxious. It felt like rejection. It felt personal, somehow, and he had no idea what to expect.

Before, Rune had only held a presence in his thoughts, unable to do anything to him. Now, he was faced with him in the flesh, and he was suddenly all too aware that the other could hurt him and he had nowhere to run. It was enough to make him want to throw up, if he'd had anything left in his stomach, and maybe he just might before all was said and done.

If Rune decided to try and hurt him though, he still always had one option left to him. He still had his dagger. He could still slash his own throat, if worse came to worse.

That was his only measure of comfort here.

"I told you to stay away from the Githyanki, but you just couldn't help yourself," Rune turned to look at him over his shoulder, his light blue eyes somehow dark. Bright in color, yet darker than black. "Could you?"

Kytes licked his lip nervously, but he pushed forward despite that his body wanted to shake uncontrollably, forcing himself steady with whatever thin shreds of willpower he still had left. He didn't dare to even breathe beyond what little he needed to not pass out on the spot.

"And now..." Rune drawled slowly, finally turning to face him. Somehow, he gave the impression of a wolf ready to bear its fangs, his eyes just the same as a wild beast's. Whatever dangerous edge his tone had held, his eyes softened into sadness, the lines of his face becoming deep with sorrow. "You've come here to murder me."

Rune moved to meet him half way, and Kytes' hand instinctively twitched for his dagger without taking it, some part of him resigned to whatever his fate here would be.

The redhead never lunged to attack him though, stopping just out of arm's reach and watching him with a sadness Kytes wasn't sure he'd ever seen on any person before now.

For a while, they only stood and stared at each other, Kytes carefully guarding his thoughts from intrusion as he formulated what he wanted to say. He'd had a plan before coming here, but he was having a hard time not letting it all fall apart.

Where did they even begin?

What was the right thing to say here?

His eyes wandered to Rune's feet, furrowing his brows, and then looked back up again.

"I didn'," he shook his head. "No' for tha'. I jus'... wan'ed t--t---talk."

Rune's eyes searched his face in return, but he relaxed some, and his voice became softer still. "Very well... what do you want to know?"

He licked his lips, trying to pin down just a single thought he could pursue. He had to focus. Now was a time for answers, and he wasn't going to leave without them. If he didn't leave at all, then worrying about it would no longer be his problem.

"Why'd you-----the zaith'is' from removing the parasi'e?" He gestured at his head.

Rune frowned, lifting his chin a little, and he could sense the frustration again. He could taste the disbelief that he didn't already know.

He did know. Rune had saved his life, and the Gith were going to kill him. There was no question about that. He wasn't stupid, but he'd let Rune think he was, just for a moment.

This was about testing him now.

"I don't know how you don't understand yet. The zaith'isk was going to kill you. I couldn't let that happen." Rune sighed heavily. "It is the very least of Queen Vlaakith's deceptions."

Kytes quirked the corner of his lip skeptically, tilting his head.

" 's a pre'y lie you say."

"There's no lie." Rune sounded wounded. "I would never lie to you." As stubbornly as some part of him tried to hold onto his distrust, he found it difficult, looking into Rune's eyes that pleaded to be believed with everything he had. "Vlaakith warned you that I would try to deceive you, but consider: what reason have I to deceive you? I want the same thing as you - freedom. I'm on your side. I have been since the very beginning."

Kytes hummed unconvinced, willing the spell from his scroll to work, trying to get a glimpse into whatever thoughts Rune was trying to hide from him. To his surprise, Rune caught on immediately, the walls of his mind holding firm even as the redhead smiled in... amusement?

"That was uncalled for. Though a spell well cast." Rune sighed heavily, shaking his head a bit and visibly deflating, eyes briefly closed. "I suppose I can't blame you. You are threatened by the tadpole, and you think I prevented it from being cured. Furthermore than that even... you think I have some ulterior reason for wanting you to become even more deeply infected, to hurt you. Perhaps, even... to make you even more into one of the Absolute's pawns?"

There was no exchange of thoughts needed to confirm it. Kytes' face said it all, and Rune's frown twitched at the corners with reluctant resignation.

"Very well. See for yourself," Rune relented, opening up his thoughts to him, removing any and all barriers that kept him out before.

Kytes' eyes fluttered shut, and in his mind's eye, a palace - large and sprawling and somehow both regal and wild, spread out before him. Rows upon rows of doors, all of them memories, as endless and far as the eye could see.

He felt one of the doors almost seem to beckon him towards it, peering within, and everything was exactly as he'd said.

The truth, laid bare; Rune had saved his life, and it had not been all purely about preserving him for the sake of seeing him as a tool.

He could feel the echoes of Rune's anxiety and panic, held close to the chest, as death closed in on his - on Kytes' - throat, worry so thick that he could taste it on his tongue and feel it choke his lungs, and the suffocation of helplessness for all the things he couldn't do.

Exasperation undertoned with a premature sense of grief, knowing that any moment, one mistake or reckless action - and Kytes took many reckless actions - could be his last.

Also a fondness there, lined with curiosity, with sympathy for every misfortune he suffered, and some sort of sickening, jaded bitterness that he couldn't quite identify. Bitterness at others? At the world? Whatever it was, those venomous fangs weren't bared at him - they were bared at everything else around him, wanting to bite every threat that dared draw near.

And then, there was betrayal, raw and painful, in part wanting to recoil and let him fend for himself if he wanted to be so ungrateful, in another larger part unable to, sheltering the wounds that had been inflicted again and again to some hidden, dark place where only Rune knew of them, shoving them aside to continue watching out for Kytes anyway - now revealed in their full, ugly glory.

Kytes had hurt him, somehow, and maybe he'd meant to - no, he had definitely meant to - but feeling that pain, as though it were his own, was different from any other time he had alienated those around him to keep himself safe. Despite it all, no matter how many times he got burned for it, Rune returned anyway, determined to make sure that this one - that he - kept moving forward despite it all.

And it hurt.

Oh, how badly��it hurt him, to keep extending himself for this one miserable little brat that spat in the eyes of every act of charity or good will.

But Kytes - rough little creature that he was, always bristling outward with sharp edges and teeth and claws - was small, and lonely, and afraid, and tired, and so, so, so, so very desperate to have even the tiniest dewdrop, the most fleeting moment, of warmth he could share with someone, anyone, if only anyone could be trusted.

Rune saw it. He understood, somehow, but trying to reach that wounded, yearning person was like trying to hug a porcupine by the pointy end. Every time, he'd come away stung with quills, and he continued to be fond of him anyway, accepting that that was simply the risk of trying to hold such a sharp, bristling animal. Despite it all, he was a survivor, and there was something to respect about any creature that still held enough willpower to bare its fangs at the world after all that.

The reality of it all, of these feelings that he didn't know how to process, hit him like a punch to the gut. It was only after his eyes opened again, his own thoughts and emotions as turbulent as a storm, that Kytes realized he was crying.

Were they his tears? Were these his feelings? Or Rune's?

He couldn't tell. He had never felt anyone's emotions except for his own. He had never even thought about them. No one had spared a thought towards him, so he had spared no thoughts towards anyone else in the world, except that he wanted to keep them away.

Just what was he supposed to do with this?

He furiously wiped his eyes dry, breathing out shakily.

"The Githyanki had no intention of letting you survive purification, and I had no intention of letting you die. And now that you know the truth, what will you do?"

Rune reached over his shoulder, gripping a handle that shimmered into existence where nothing had been before, with the rest of the sword to follow, baring it towards Kytes.

Eyes still wet, the blond stepped back, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat, finding that he didn't even have the will to reach for his daggers, much less fight back.

It wasn't a fight that Rune was looking for.

Instead, he dropped down to one knee, holding the sword flat across both palms, offering it to him.

Confused, Kytes' brows furrowed. Was he... offering up his life?

" 's-----a t--t-tt----t-t---t--tt-t----"

"A trick?" Rune finished, his voice dropping low and somber. "I already told you that I'd protect you. That I saved you. That I'm just like you. If this was not enough to convince you, what more is there to say?"

Kytes' eyes narrowed, lips pursing, holding his hands clasped close to his chest.

For once in his life, he felt... guilt?

What a terrible feeling it was.

"She wan's-----dead, she'll have----do i' herself."

Rune cracked a subtle smirk at him, eyes sparking with approval and pushing up from his knees.

"It seems I was right to put my faith in you after all. Thank you." Just as quickly as he'd drawn it, the sword disappeared from his hand. "Vlaakith will be furious. She fears nothing more than the loss of her empire. The knowledge I have of her deception would bring that about."

If you're such a threat to her, why hasn't she killed you already? Words he wanted to say, if his voice would work, but it was even harder to speak now than usual. It didn't matter, since Rune heard his thoughts easily enough anyway.

"She is trying her very best to kill me. By sending you. Vlaakith is lying to her people. She wants me dead because I know the one secret she never wants getting out, a secret so great that she would cease to be a God in their eyes. What better way to be rid of two problems at once than to send both of her enemies to kill one another? The risk is too great to send one of her own, lest they find out what she doesn't want them to know."

What sort of secret could be that big?

Rune briefly wore a cocky grin. "She pretends to know how Gith destroyed the Mind Flayer empire. In truth, she knows nothing. If the Illithid Empire were ever to return, she would be incapable of stopping them, and if her people found out about her impotence, there would be mutiny, revolution, and end to her rule. But that very power - the power to resist Illithid control - which Vlaakith only pretends to know," he paused, reaching out and carefully brushing tears from Kytes' eye with the pad of his thumb, pretending not to notice how he flinched away a little. "-is how I've been protecting you. I suppose she hoped to extract it from my corpse. Since you spared me that fate, she will come for you."

So what do I do? There's no way out.

"I did warn you not to come here, but that curious streak of yours has brought us this far. I believe you will overcome this too. You'll figure something out." He sighed, frowning. "I've delayed long enough. The next attack is overdue and I can't have you caught in the middle of it. I need you out there, searching for the Absolute."

"Wai'!" Kytes stepped forward, closing more distance than he'd ever have dared before. "No' ye'."

I have questions. Things I want to know. You can't just send me on my way again expecting me to be satisfied with barely knowing anything! This isn't fair!

He felt fresh tears welling, grappling with frustration and something else he couldn't identify. Whatever it was, it scared him.

I FINALLY found you and thought I was going to get answers, but mostly all I have is more questions! Don't do this to me!

Rune sighed gustily, forcing a smile and holding Kytes' head with a hand on either side of his jaw. In turn, Kytes' hands rested over the top of his.

A cynical part of him knew that if he wanted to, the redhead could hurt him. Hold him prisoner or break his neck. Some part of him still expected it. It never happened.

"I know its not fair... but I told you. It isn't safe here. You never should have come to begin with." A few beats of pause. "But I suppose I'm glad that you did, if this is what it took for you to finally trust me, even a little."

Where is this place? Or - what is this place? Why did you hide it from me?

Another soft huff from Rune, knowing that Kytes was trying to stall longer, to get answers to the questions he desperately wanted to know now.

"The Gith called this a weapon... but that's not wholly true. More than anything, it is a prison. Commissioned by Vlaakith, built in the Hells." He growled, curling his lip back. "A place for all who threaten her to wilt and die. If you don't leave, and soon, this might become your prison too. Barring that, your tomb. I don't think either of us want that. I need you to leave. Now. Before they come."

Who?

"They are the stuff of nightmares, and no concern of yours. This is my battle to fight, and your battles are out there. You were on the right path, to Moonrise towers. Return to it."

A stretch of silence, Kytes' eyes - wet and blurred - downcast. Rune moved his hands back, only to step forward, his movements slow and careful, slipping arms around Kytes and daring to hold him for a moment. Even as the blond tensed, he also leaned into it, breathing out shakily through his nose. Fingers briefly carded through his hair, strange, yet nice. Vague recollections teased at the edges of his memory, of something not unlike this, but he couldn't remember.

"When these battles are won, we will talk again, and I promise I'll answer whatever you want to know that I'm able to tell you. Alright? Very soon. I won't keep you waiting long again."

Kytes squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring the part of him that was steadily growing physically ill with being so close to someone. Just once, he wanted to have this. Just for a moment.

And you'll tell me this time?

"Yes, I will. I swear it. That can only happen once we both survive this ordeal though. I hope you're ready to face Vlaakith's wrath. The entire Creche stands ready to kill you in her name."

I don't know that I can do this.

Rune hummed. "You can. You will. I believe in you. You're a survivor, more than most I've ever known. You'll figure something out." He finally let go and stepped back, offering a smile that reached his eyes for once and tipping his chin up. "Go now, little bird. Show them how well you fly."

#Squidhawk #drabble #BG3 verse

[th-ramblr]

[Baldur's Gate 3] - Squidhawk #18

[Cross-posted on AO3]

Getting inside this - what was it that old woman had called it? A Creche? - place wasn't as difficult as he'd first assumed.

[Its not the getting in that's going to prove difficult,] Rune warned grimly. Kytes could almost imagine the redhead standing there, imagine his ice-blue eyes scouring the ruined monastery's lower floors with a fang-bared sneer as he roiled with disgust. [Its getting out.]

Once he was past the guards at the door, the most any of the Gith did was sneer and look him over with unveiled contempt, but no one tried to stop him otherwise. Wandering the new layout, he first found his way to a large room where an older Gith in fancy armor ordered their teenagers to fight.

To the death.

Only one among them - the smartest one, he thought - dared to speak out against it. And for that, he got a sword in the gut, while the rest carelessly discarded him to the side to bleed out, painting a clear picture of what he could expect if they decided he'd overstayed his welcome.

He didn't linger long, trying to find his way around, next coming to a chamber filled with acidic water. The 'Birthing Pools' they called it.

Within it was a single, strange, unhatched egg (right, he'd learned Gith hatched from eggs recently). He knew that woman would pay handsomely for one, but the keeper of the place was unwilling to part with it, and the chamber was better guarded than any other place he'd ever tried to break into. He really didn't feel like getting swarmed by a bunch of frog-faced freaks today, especially after seeing how they treated their own, much less an outsider.

He could sense Rune's discontent every step that he took that wasn't towards the exit, but he was getting the sense even without his input that he wouldn't want to stick around for long.

He stumbled into a room where a pair of small Gith kids were knocking a heavy wooden trunk back and forth, something within it wailing and crying in distress. Unsurprisingly, both of the little brats only gave him a bad attitude when he tried to get them to stop, before he grabbed hold of the thing and pulled it away from them, snarling teeth at them.

When he went to open up the chest, he half-expected another Gith child to be inside, getting bullied around. He knew how kids could be, personally speaking, and he'd already seen just how these ones treated each other. What leapt out the moment he opened it was instead some giant, hairless cat-like creature with long rows of gnarled teeth and claws, which he quickly put down as it lunged towards him.

Predictably, the nasty little Gith kids squealed and laughed at him in delight. He sneered back, and thought to himself that they were lucky to be so young, or he would have made them regret that. The other adult Gith around them seemed equally amused, once the beast was dead at his feet.

He was about a hairs breadth from leaving the place for good, just like Rune wanted, when he came across a room with a curious device he'd never seen before. Some huge, monstrous... machine? ...of ebony metal, that softly pulsed like a dull heartbeat where it stood, cast in beams of light from a collapsed ceiling so that it almost seemed cloaked in ethereal light.

[There are parasites here...] Rune's voice sounded genuinely surprised, and keenly interested. [More than only one.]

That caught Kytes' attention, just as quickly as did the sole occupant of the room off to the right corner.

"Do you have a question?" The Gith woman swiveled to look over her shoulder, her gaze entirely unimpressed with his presence even before she saw him. "Or are you just going to stand there, gawking?"

He gave her an equally unimpressed look, but he couldn't help but glance past her at what she had been doing before, a live tadpole floating suspended between the spokes of some sort of magnifying device with many different lenses.

"Wha's tha'-----doing?" He jerked his head towards it.

He saw her face immediately twist into a sneer, even less impressed with his speech. Internally, he sighed, but he wasn't surprised.

"Nothing you or your kind is capable of understanding," she dismissed coldly. "The better question is - what brings an istik to my infirmary?"

She didn't think much of him already, and he didn't think much of her. He certainly didn't think well enough to come right out and mention that he had a tadpole in his head. Most people didn't react well to that knowledge, he'd found.

Lying it was.

"I've----friend who has one. Tt--t-t-t-----t-t---ttr--tr--'rying----help them."

Her brows ticked upward a moment, surprised, but still holding a dignified air of arrogance about her, cool and collected, before her eyebrows relaxed again into impassivity.

"And you expected charity from us? You are a unique specimen." Somehow, he sensed Rune bristle at those words. He wasn't sure why. "All right, my curiosity is piqued. Tell me, how long has your friend been infected?"

He thought about that for a few moments, humming contemplation. "Longer 'n i' tt-tt-t-----t--takes----change in'----a mind flayer. 'n no sym'oms."

"I see you have some knowledge of the process of ceremorphosis then? You'll be aware then that your friend is on borrowed time. Bring them here for purification, as swiftly as you can. I'll be waiting."

Kytes hummed, tipping his head a moment.

"What it is?" She studied his face for a moment before it seemed to dawn on her. "Ah - perhaps... we weren't most forthcoming with each other. Could it possibly be that you're the one who's infected?" He must have given something away, because her eyes went alight with understanding and she nodded. "I see... well, that makes things easier then, doesn't it? I can treat you straight away."

She stepped past Kytes briskly, moving towards the strange machine he'd spied earlier.

"You're very lucky, istik. Even Githyanki rarely get to experience a zaith'isk."

His brows furrowed as his eyes followed her, not immediately moving. His gaze briefly flitted towards the door while she wasn't looking his way, wondering if he should leave now. He could sense it was what Rune wanted him to do, but--

"Come, lie down when you're ready. The sooner we begin, the sooner I can free you from that parasite. My time is vital. Do not squander it."

He gave her a skeptical look as he started cautiously towards the machine and her, studying her carefully. "You know how----heal i--tt?"

"Of course," she said confidently, and yet there was something small in her signals that he wasn't sure he quite trusted. "The ghaik have been our sworn enemies since time immemorial. All of Vlaakith's children train to combat them, in one way or another, from a very young age. My way of combating them is to study them. The zaith'isk--" she directed towards the machine, the bright light of accomplishment sparking in her eyes. "--is my crowning achievement in this endeavor. Through this, we've been able to extract many of the Mind Flayer's parasites from their hosts over the years, and free them from the grips of the Illithid."

When Kytes didn't look entirely convinced, she directed his gaze towards the parasite she'd just been studying on her desk.

"How do you think I came into possession of those? You need not have any fear. My experience in operating this machine is unparalleled. There is nothing on any plane stronger than a zaith'isk for curing unwanted afflictions."

[Don't trust a word she says.]

Kytes' lips pursed.

Part of him felt like Rune's warning rang true, but another recalled how he kept trying to convince him to embrace the parasite, even take more of them into his body, as if one wasn't bad enough.

Was it a risk to try this? Most certainly.

But was it worth it? Maybe. If he wanted to be free of this... thing in his head.

The very thought of trying to remove it made fear that wasn't his own creep into his thoughts, and he was determined that it was because Rune - whoever the fuck he actually was - didn't want him to get rid of the damn thing. For what reasons, he could only guess, but did it matter?

[I told you before, if you don't get rid of the source of the tadpoles first, removing it will kill you. Please, for ONCE, just trust me.]

He hummed, squinting at the Gith woman.

"Will i' hur' me?"

"More than ceremorphosis? Chk," she scoffed, almost as if personally insulted by his question.

He considered it a moment more, before taking cautious steps forward as the machine seemed to almost wait, softly pulsing like a living being with veins and sinews.

Somehow, it didn't seem entirely unlike the Nautiloid he'd been on, or the schematics of them that had flashed through his mind as he'd inspected strange tablets of knowledge that were more psychic than they were written. Something not totally inanimate, but not quite alive as he thought of it either.

He swiveled into the seat of the machine, shifting back to get comfortable within it, and tried to ignore the negativity that rolled into his mind.

[You're going to regret this.]

Anxiety coiled in his gut, the hairs on the back of his head standing up even as it seemed like the machine zapped all of what little body heat he had into it, but before he could change his mind and move to get up, the machine seemed to awaken and shifted to roll him backwards until he was lying on his back, its 'arms' outstretched and the head of the machine - he only just now noticed, it had a head like an insect - arched and rested just above his own head, as if it was going to bite it off.

"You must focus on the parasite at all times. The zaith'isk will do the rest," the Gith woman instructed.

As she did, he watched with horror as the mandibles of the machine twitched and thrummed against each other, and then parted like jaws, flashing with a bright blue light that felt like daggers piercing straight through his skull. He could only breathlessly gasp, groaning through gritted teeth as layers of magic wove themselves around and through his head.

Immediately, he felt the parasite inside his skull squirm and contract, trying to hide.

He realized that the device was hunting the parasite, its tendrils of magic probing and searching blindly to find it, to drag it out from where it had burrowed, but it was doing so blindly, uncertain, but hungry.

He tried to focus on where the worm was, to give it direction, but it felt as though his skull was ready to fracture under the pressure, agony splitting through his head, traveling like bolts of lightning down his spine and throughout his limbs.

In the moments of excruciating pain, his awareness of the tadpole's whereabouts briefly slipped, and the zaith'isk lashed out aimlessly at the first thing it could find, hoping to snare its prey. He felt it burning into his right temple, and then go numb. It had devoured something, some part of him, but he couldn't recall exactly what. Cold sweat beaded across his brow, his heart hammering too hard in tandem with the pulsing in his head, his vision swimming.

It felt like he was going to suffocate on his own short, sharp pants, barely hearing the Gith woman as she hummed halfway towards a growl in her throat, watching him with eyes that felt overwhelming predatory in those moments.

"Hmm... an unusually stubborn specimen. Don't let it slip away!"

He felt the parasite burrow deeper into his head, sinking its sharp little teeth into his brain, sucking greedily. His awareness started to slip, darkness swimming at the edges of his vision, like floating through murky, dark clouds. While he grew weaker, the parasite only gained strength, his mind caught in a tug of war between two different alien creatures that wanted to devour his very being and strip him to nothing.

He tried to focus on the parasite again, trying to push through the pain. If he could just focus on it, for just a moment, then maybe-- just maybe...

This time, he felt the zaith'isk close in on the tadpole like a hungry beast cornering a hare, ready to take it in its fangs and shake it like a rag-doll until all of the life was snuffed out of it.

"That's it! You're almost there!" The woman encouraged, like a beast herself salivating over the kill. "The zaith'isk never fails!"

--but something was wrong. He could feel the intention, the bloodlust, of the zaith'isk, its yearning for the creature in his head, but it wouldn't stop there. It would devour him whole, every part of him, a casualty of its hunt that it had no regard for so long as it could take what it sought out of his head, even if it killed him. Cold, indifferent, and entirely merciless.

The tadpole in his head quivered, curling on itself, baring its teeth like a cornered animal and bristling with a magic entirely different from the zaith'isk's. Rotten, ancient magic he didn't understand at all.

And with the tadpole's fear, its feral defensiveness, he felt the same echoed from Rune, as though he too was a beast baring its fangs at an enemy.

[No. No more!]

The pain was unbearable, and the fear even more insurmountable, tangling together until he couldn't tell his own from the tadpole's nor from Rune's, trying to tear himself free from the seat and away from the device.

No matter how hard he tried to shake free, he couldn't move his body an inch, the magic of the zaith'isk shackling him within his own body. Panic rose higher, a tidal wave turned into a tsunami of terror, trying harder to force his limbs to respond and finding them simply not there, as useful as if he'd had no limbs at all.

He couldn't so much as twitch a finger, lips parting to scream without sound, eyes screwing shut even as tears started to form in them. He felt as though his heart would burst out of his chest any moment.

[You're hurting. Let me help.]

In an instant, he felt the tangles of the zaith'isk release, as if they slipped all at once on a slick of grease that let him break away at last. Another magic - a magic he was sure he'd felt before, but couldn't recall where - snaked through him, felt as though it draped around him like a veil, and then in a flash, everything around him exploded.

Violently.

He felt himself shoot forward and crash into the stones a moment before his awareness totally blinked out. As debris clattered all around the room, ebony shrapnel scattering haphazardly, forcing the Gith woman to launch herself out of the way and cower in a self-protective ball.

Kytes' awareness swam back into focus just as abruptly as the machine had blown apart, drawing in a harsh gasp as though breaking the surface of the ocean, scrambling to drag himself to his feet and coughing as he rested a hand against his erratic heartbeat. Just as his own body arched, he felt the tadpole in his head squirm and stretch, relieved to have survived.

He couldn't say he was as happy as it was, an echo of agony still thrumming through his skull, staggering as he rested a hand against his temple gently.

"No - NO!" the Gith woman shrieked, likewise staggering to her feet, shocked into distraught stupor as she stared at the smoking rubble of the machine. Several other heads were poking through the doorway, curious and wary about what all the noise had been about, but none daring to step inside yet. "The zaith'isk! What have you done?! My life's work - gone!" She looked at him, her eyes wide and wild, and just as fanatical as the edge to her voice. "And yet, you live... and so does your parasite."

"Good," he spat, at the moment not even caring that the damned thing still drew breath. Rune was right. The stupid bitch had tried to kill him. "I' saved me."

"It saved you?" Her voice cracked small and thoughtful with disbelief, her expression evolving from rage and shock to confusion and then obsessive, ravenous need all within the span of a second. "And it destroyed a zaith'isk? Then its power is even more unique than I thought. I must examine it. Since the zaith'isk did not extract it, we must resort to more traditional means. Wait here. I will gather my tools."

He glared even as she turned and briskly walked out. Were it only her, he would have leapt straight at her back and slashed her throat before she could get anywhere, but there was an entire room of armed warriors just outside, and some of them stared straight at him with malice and the promise of a swift death if he tried anything. As soon as she was out, one of them pulled the door shut, and he heard a heavy lock click on the other side.

[That was not wise...] Rune reprimanded. [You were lucky I was there to save you. Once again.]

Fine, you were right. Does that make you happy?

[No, it doesn't. It would have made me happier if you had only listened and stayed away.]

I thought you said you couldn't save me from them if something happened?

He could feel the exasperation as clearly as if it were his own. [That still stands. I did the only thing I was able to do. Now YOU are going to have to try and find a way out of this place. On your own.]

And those Gith had locked the door, and were likely telling everyone else within about his little 'secret'. Great.

He was already pacing the room, looking for anything of use and trying to think of just how he was going to deal with this.

[Since you're already here, be sure to take the parasites they've collected. Once we get out of this place, they'll be useful to us.]

He rolled his eyes, and was quick to get a rebuke.

[Just how many times have I told you to trust me and you didn't listen? See where that's gotten us? Now take them, while you can.]

You seem confident I'll make it out of here.

[I have to. It won't do either of us any good to doubt as much. And you've already got an idea in mind, don't you?]

He wasn't entirely wrong. His mind was already working while Rune was talking. There was only one door out of this place, and it was well-guarded, but he had a few tricks at his disposal. Invisibility potions, and the necklace he'd filched from Priestess Gut's room. He still only had a shaky grasp of using magical items, but being able to teleport in a pinch had its perks, and it would certainly come in handy now.

[Good. We'll get through this, same as always. Let's show them that we're not to be underestimated, alright?]

He couldn't help but roll his eyes a little bit.

Since when had it become a 'we'?

#Squidhawk #drabble #BG3 verse

[th-ramblr]

[Baldur's Gate 3] - Squidhawk #17

[Cross-posted on AO3]

Breath-taking was the only word even close to describing the Trielta crags.

Standing on the precipice of the roadside cliffs, he couldn't help but look out in awe at the wide, yawning canyon that must have stood several miles wide, where the Chionthar carved out the earth so deep he could scarcely see the bottom through the morning fog, deep below where the sun failed to reach.

Standing where the cobblestone bridge arched the highest, he couldn't help but lean out a bit over the edge, taking in the sight of the stacked stone ledges and steppes; of the wide, cascading falls that converged into a single valley and then vanished further northward.

Every few seconds, he could hear the soft chirps and chatters of eagles, under-toned by a cacophony of other various species of songbird, and the gurgle of water bubbling down the rocks just behind him.

Topping a huge spire of natural stone were conversely unnatural structures, man-made columns and supporting arches proudly rising up the sides of the cliff, flying buttresses at the top curving inward to connect to a trio of pinnacles. Held between two of the pinnacles was a massive brass star with eight points, standing proudly at the highest point of several nested rings.

Further still, nestled in the trees far down the way, was a large multi-story monastery of old, weathered stones and black-shingle roofs. Somewhere near the top of it, he could distantly see the shine of an absolutely massive brass gyroscope glinting in the sun's rays.

Even at a distance, he could see that a good number of the structural piers had collapsed, and within the front courtyard, a rhombus shaped pond overhung the cliff edge.

Whatever the place was, he doubted it would be entirely uninhabited. If he was especially in luck, maybe there would be a path through, or at the very least, some echo of civilization where he could trade and rest somewhat comfortably.

-------------------------------------------

Though admittedly, watching a Githyanki warrior put a crossbow bolt into the back of a Halfling was anything but a good first sign.

Clinging to the shadows of the monastery, he watched as the other two who remained gave up and started walking inside under the direction of the Gith, their heads hung low in defeat and resignation of their fate. Once the Gith and their two prisoners were through the huge front gate, the entire courtyard rang loudly with the heavy sound of two-story doors sealing shut.

Licking his lips, he waited a few seconds before creeping out of hiding towards the elder Halfling who lay dead and unmoving, inspecting her attire. The one thing that immediately leapt out at him was the triangle skull necklace she wore, marking her as one of the Absolute's cultists.

Well... seemed the Gith didn't like the cultists any more than he did. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

No sooner had he thought it and moved towards the heavy gate doors than a feeling of uncertainty and trepidation crept from one of the small bags at his hip, traveling up his spine and the back of his skull, a familiar presence entangling with his thoughts and growling low in warning.

[Your curiosity is getting the better of you - do not let it. Stay away from the Githyanki.]

He paused at the words, crouching low and small, his eyes wandering the space all around him, but no immediate threats presented themselves.

Why're you so worried about it?

Exasperation crept into Rune's tone as it hitched a little bit higher, trying to impress upon him the importance of his warning.

[They're hunting you. You and everyone else like you. They want the artifact, and they'll stop at nothing to take it from you.]

Ah, there it was. A confirmation that he could springboard off of easily.

And just what is this artifact? You've never said anything about it before now. I didn't even have it until recently. Even as he asked, he tried to push and pull on the heavy doors, but they wouldn't budge, and he could find no trace of a key hole he could lockpick open.

[Well you have it now,] Rune deadpanned, dripping dissatisfaction. [Which puts you at even greater risk than before.]

Kytes' eyes scoured the walls and windows of the building, looking for openings and finding one off to his left.

You still didn't answer me about what it is.

He felt hesitation hang heavy in Rune's silence, unwilling to talk.

You told me you protected me, but everyone seems to think the artifact is what does it. So which is it, exactly?

[...both, I suppose.]

You suppose? He could sense that Rune didn't like his probing, but he was tired of half-answers.

Answers which he was momentarily distracted from as he climbed up through the window into an old, ruined kitchen, only for a door to slam open and a small lizard-like creature to come stumbling out. Kytes drew his daggers and readied himself for a fight, but then the creature burbled something about too drunk? 's not possible and promptly collapsed onto its face, going limp.

The scent of strong alcoholic spirits wafted from the lizard and the open doorway, and a quick peek inside saw a whole gaggle of red-scaled kobolds drunkenly dancing or collapsed onto each other in passed out cuddle piles.

Well. He certainly wasn't going that way.

He went back out the way he came, and tried to find a different path through.

[The artifact and I both have properties that help keep you safe from the Absolute... but I can't protect you from the Gith. This won't be like last time, either. I won't be able to have our allies come and rescue you from a bad situation a second time.]

Why did you even have them rescue me before at all?

Another pregnant silence. When it didn't seem like Rune was going to break it, he did so first, picking his way down a trail of rocky ledges beneath the monastery.

All this time, you acted like it was only me you were talking to and 'helping'. You acted like I was somehow special, but that was all just bullshit, wasn't it? You were using me. You're using the others too.

[You are special,] Rune stated with deliberate care. [Just because they have their uses doesn't negate that.]

Why didn't you tell me you were talking to others the same as me?

[You didn't think to ask, and I didn't think it was important.]

Evasion. Again and again, evasion. He was getting tired of it.

[You know, you could be a little more grateful. To me. To the others. All of us went out of our way to save your life. I think that deserves a thanks, at the very least, instead of accusation.]

Well maybe I didn't want to be saved.

[Now which one of us is lying?] Genuine irritation pricked at Rune's voice. [You've had plenty of opportunities to kill yourself if that was really how you felt. No one was stopping you before, or when you ran across the Gith patrol and their dragon, nor the undead that blocked the other road. You could have used any one of those opportunities to sew your demise. If that's really how you feel, there's a cliff right there.]

Kytes' eye wandered to the side.

[Go on,] Rune prompted, voice clipped. [Jump. I won't stop you. In fact, I can't stop you.]

Kytes rolled his eyes and huffed out through his nose, turning his head forward as he continued to pick his way along precarious ledges.

[That's what I thought.]

Will you just shut up already?

Rune's agitation was only ticking higher, but underlying it all, Kytes could taste a hint of fear. Just what was he so afraid of?

[Well excuse me for looking out for you, and trying to guide you away from danger after you nearly almost died only a few days ago. And survived, because of my help. You're welcome.] A pause, the redhead trying to temper himself down. It gave Kytes a moment to simply focus on climbing, picking his way up a collapsed hill of wall rubble and stone stairs, onto the second floor of the monastery. [I'm trying to help you and keep you safe. Genuinely. But you need to work WITH me.]

I don't need to do anything I don't want to.

He peered around the corner of a half-collapsed wall, before starting down the corridor.

[Stop. Don't go any farther.]

Kytes rolled his eyes.

I told you already, I don't-

[No. Not that.] Rune's voice came lower, softer, but urgent. [You need to stop before you collapse somewhere dangerous. Its going to come on soon.]

Kytes' brows furrowed, standing where he was.

What do you mean?

[Can't you feel it?] Rune was genuinely curious. [Those times when you black out and wake up on the floor. You need to stop and lay down. Now.]

Now that Rune mentioned it, he didn't feel quite right. He was so focused on his surroundings that he'd entirely forgotten to pay attention to himself. His breathing was irregular, and his awareness was just a touch off, like the world was exactly as it should have been but tilted just a smidge out of alignment like a painting not-quite-straight. It felt like a small cloud was forming in the side of his skull, a driftiness that started to sprout in his limbs, just a bit, disconnected from the rest of him.

[Lay down and take off your pack, away from any walls or debris. You'll be fine. I'm with you.]

As much as part of him wanted to rebel, he got the sense that Rune was telling the truth, and he'd collapsed and hit something on the way down enough times to know he didn't want to repeat it now.

Especially not now, in this place.

He dropped down to his knees and shed his pack, setting it off to the side, before lowering himself to the cracked stone floor, blinking slowly. For a moment, his awareness blinked out once, glancing about in confusion, before everything slipped into nothingness again. When he regained his senses, his body was rigid and sore, the taste of bile on his tongue.

Every time he thought he had it in him to remain awake, he was plunged back down under the thick, black ocean of unconsciousness, all of his being weighted down by it, drowned before he even knew it was happening.

Finally, he was able to surface again, fluttering his eyes and panting, his body sluggish as a stone as he tried to drag an arm under himself to push his body up.

[Easy. You're alright now, but you need to take it slow and rest.]

What happened?

A brief pause, Rune pondering what to tell him. [Its was a seizure. You might be familiar with them. Or at least with the part of them where you lose consciousness. Do you remember anything from them?]

"No..." It passed his lips as a low whimper, swaying as he tried to get onto all fours and deciding to sink down again onto his stomach instead.

[That's normal... most who experience them don't remember it. Its a... abnormality in the brain. Not surprising given your childhood injury.]

For whatever reason, he found the calm and clinical way Rune talked about it to be strangely comforting. Maybe it was just that he was talking to him at all, without the cold dismissiveness of most others who regarded him as too stupid to explain anything to, but had no problems talking about him within earshot.

I've had them most of my life, I think... I don't know why they happen.

[Well, a simple explanation would be that your mind is overstimulated. I suppose that's a good way to put it. Your brain experiences a burst of electrical energy that then travels through your nervous system, and essentially causes it to short-circuit.]

And all of that was too complicated for him to follow right now.

In simpler words?

Rune thought about it for a moment. [Your mind shocks itself and shuts down instantly. But it also makes your body lock up and shake, which is hard on you. Especially you. With your heart the way it is, the stress could very well kill you.]

Tell me something I don't know. Kytes' teeth clenched a moment and he tried again to push himself up, his movements unsteady. He didn't make it very far staggering down the corridor before he gave up and sunk to the ground again, closing his eyes.

[I could help you...]

Kytes eyes cracked open, but they were already heavy, threatening sleep again. He wanted to ask, but the thought wouldn't form. Rune caught on anyway.

[With the seizures. Help you get them more under control. With a little luck, maybe it would even help with your speech, though I've never dealt with anything like it before.]

And how do you think you're going to do that? I haven't met a healer yet who can fix it.

[If you were to consume some of the True Soul tadpoles we've collected, then maybe I could use them to help stabilize your condition.]

Kytes couldn't help but bark aloud a laugh, the sound echoing throughout the ruins. He didn't even give a thought in that moment to whether or not anyone heard it.

Yeah, right. Conveniently you can fix me with them now, when you want me to 'embrace' them? He breathed out heavily and sunk down onto his side, exhaustion pressing in on him. I'm not stupid.

Rune hummed, and he almost had the sense of someone brushing his hair away from his face. But he was only imagining it - no one else was there. He must have really been tired.

[I know you're not. Rest now. We can talk about it more later.]

#Squidhawk #drabble #BG3 verse #seizures tw

[th-ramblr]

[Baldur's Gate 3] - Squidhawk #16

[Cross-posted on AO3]

It wasn't that hard, slipping something into everyone's drinks. All he really had to do was uncork a bottle of sleeping potion right before he came back from taking a piss, conveniently at a time when they were all away from the fire and not watching their cups. All he had to do was slip into his sleeping bag and wait until they came back, one by one falling into a deep sleep.

Maybe some small, tiny, ignored and unheard part of him felt a little bit bad for it. But then again, probably not.

He waited until they were good and asleep, even giving them a small few nudges of his boot, before he started packing up his things and throwing on his gear. Had he considered staying? Maybe for a moment. A very fleeting moment.

But he knew for sure he didn't like nor trust Shadowheart, no matter what she claimed. Karlach still made him a little bit nervous. Halsin? He was... well, he wasn't sure what Halsin was. He didn't scare him quite so much as most other people, but other people were still the problem, and Halsin liked to gravitate towards them and sing their praises in spades, and he still didn't trust that the druid could protect him from them.

He paused and pursed his lips a little bit.

Protect...

He'd mentioned that they'd come to save him, and that the only reason they had, was because Rune told them he was in danger...

He still didn't know why it couldn't have been Rune himself. Where was he? What was he doing?

Did this even count as him protecting him, or...?

And maybe, part of him regretted still being alive, too. Once again, so close to death, and once again, just out of his reach. Like it was just toying with him.

He shook his head a bit, glancing over Halsin and the rest with veiled eyes. It was all very confusing, and that only scared him more. He liked it better when things were clear cut; when he couldn't trust them, and they couldn't trust him. Simple.

But there was a doubt in there somewhere, dancing in the back of his head, and he hated it.

He growled a little at himself, heaving his backpack on and starting to walk. They were still in the Zhentarim's cave, according to Halsin, but all the traps had either been sprung or disabled. He'd still have to watch his step, just in case.

He spotted the corpse of a wolf as he was headed to leave, pausing a moment and shivering, but he reminded himself that the thing was dead. He could smell it was dead. Nothing to worry about.

And just as soon as he'd reassured himself of that, he yelped as something seemed to fall out of nowhere in front of him, jumping back and cursing himself for making the noise.

Wasn't that...?

He eyed the black and red prism that landed in the dirt in front of him, swiveling back over his shoulder to look, but Halsin, Shadowheart, and Karlach were all fast asleep, so none of them could have thrown it, right? Then who did?

He licked his lip and stared at it for the longest time, before cautiously stepping forward to pick it up, tilting his head curiously as the fiery shades pulsed along the seams of it like something alive. It felt... warm, and somehow comforting to hold.

How strange...

After a moment, he gently tossed it to the ground, only for it to immediately bounce back up and into his hands, giving him a small shock on contact that made him jump and hiss.

What in the...?

It hadn't done that before when he'd first picked it up. So maybe a fluke?

He tossed it down again, and just as before, it returned to his hands as though it had a mind of its own, and gave him another zap that had him jolt, shaking his hand at the sting.

He squinted, suspicious. Once was an accident, twice...

He licked his lip, looking back, and hefted it over his head, chucking it back towards the campfire before he started to run for the entrance.

And he didn't make it far, before the prism flew past him, hit the ground, and then reversed direction and shot right into his hands, giving him another zap. As if punishing him for dropping it.

He huffed and looked at it, tilting his head and trying to examine it more thoroughly. As far as he could tell, there were no buttons or latches to open it, all the strange sides of it firmly closed off. Just what was it? Shadowheart hadn't seemed to know either, but she'd refused to let it go for any reason. Now it seemed determined to not let him go without it.

But if he left with it...

He hummed.

Maybe it was trying to stop him from leaving? He had no idea why, or how it would know, so he took a few steps forward.

Nothing. No zap.

A few more steps, and it remained calm in his hands. He hummed and started walking for the exit proper, but the device only purred in his hands like a kitten, seemingly content so long as he didn't try to throw it away, even as he climbed up out of the Zhentarim cave.

As he stepped out into the daylight of Waukeen's Rest again, he idly tried, one last time, to drop it, just to confirm. Sure enough, it shot straight back to his hands, and made sure to punish him for it with another jolt that had him cussing.

Well... maybe the real reason Shadowheart didn't want to get rid of it was this, and for some reason the thought of her getting zapped left and right amused him.

He wasn't sure why it chose him now though. If it really was protecting them from the Absolute, he certainly wouldn't be complaining, even if he was sure she'd get mad later and say he stole it.

A shrug to himself. Didn't matter. If he had any say in it, he wasn't going to see her again. He didn't want to see her again.

He put the artifact away into one of his pockets, before adjusting the straps of his bag and set off on his way.

Alone again. Just how he liked it.

#Squidhawk #drabble #BG3 verse

[th-ramblr]

[Baldur's Gate 3] - Squidhawk #15

[Cross-posted on AO3]

He was adrift, in some nameless place. He felt it, more than saw, his eyes too heavy. So heavy. Try as he might, they refused to open.

He was so tired.

He just wanted to rest.

It was warm here. Warmer than his body ever managed to achieve on its own.

He was always cold. Even when he put on many layers, in the winter months, he'd feel like he was freezing regardless. And in the summer months, his pale complexion was poorly suited for laying out in the sunshine.

He was always fighting not to feel cold, but now he was warm, and comfortable, and he dared to nestle further into that alluring warmth.

And the smell... curious scents all tangled together. The smell of woodlands, of moss and soil, of tree oils and fallen leaves. The smell of a burning hearth, of wood smoke and slow-cooked meats. A touch of alcohol and sweat, a hint of vanilla, and... garlic? And something else he couldn't quite identify, furrowing a brow as he tried to place it. Animal pelts? Or maybe, an animal itself...

He realized that someone was humming, and he realized the feel of pressure all around him, keeping him still, but he wasn't afraid. The hold was firm, secure, and exactly what he needed. The palm that brushed up his cheek, and carefully pushed back his hair, was surprisingly welcome, and the way fingers encircled his ear and gently massaged it between them was just right, making him relax further into the embrace.

He was so tired.

But curiosity was sharper than his exhaustion.

And yet, his eyes were too heavy. His body too weak. His voice wouldn't come, and even his thoughts barely held by a thread.

He was entirely helpless, but he wasn't afraid.

Why wasn't he afraid?

Shouldn't he be?

He tried to force himself to move. To look. It was impossible.

Whoever they were, they held him tighter, gently scratching through his hair, and he felt...

Safe.

His entire being sighed and surrendered; more than just an exhale; more than a simple matter of lost tension.

Safe...

What a strange feeling.

But a nice one.

If he could only stay here forever...

Just like this.

Just like this...

But he got the sense that he couldn't. That it was all very fleeting. That he had to go soon.

But he didn't want to!

He wanted to stay!

Here, where it was safe!

Regret.

Regret that encircled him possessively, apologetically, and then let him go...

----------------------------

"No!"

He jolted upright with a gasp, eyes snapping open. A few beats passed, before he realized how much he regretted the action and wheezed, covering a breathless cough with a pained grimace. His heart hammered in his chest, and every part of him was spiked with alarm, raising goosebumps on his skin.

"Easy!"

He jumped, head snapping to the side and shoving away the hand that clamped onto his shoulder, eyes wide. Halsin returned his expression in kind, before tempering into something both worried and meant to be reassuring, holding up his palms in a show of peace.

"Easy... you're alright."

Panting a little too hard, Kytes swallowed thickly, looking from Halsin to the space around them, the darkness of a natural cave crudely modified for occupation. A campfire crackled nearby, and he realized quickly that Halsin wasn't the only person there, and both other faces were familiar: Karlach and Shadowheart.

Halsin rested both his arms over a bent knee, tipping his head faintly. "You're safe now."

Kytes couldn't find his voice for the longest time, his mind struggling to figure out what was going on.

"I imagine you must have questions..." Halsin started slowly.

"Where? Wha'?" Kytes finally managed to choke out, looking to Halsin with knitted brows.

Halsin grimaced a little. "Waukeen's Rest. You almost died."

"Bastards down here filled your stomach full of holes," Karlach finally cut in with a snarl, curling her lip back. "Didn't make getting down here terribly easy, either, but they picked the wrong opponent in a cave stock full of explosive barrels." Her expression softened towards him with relief. "Gave us a right good scare, but I'm glad you're still with us."

Kytes furrowed his brows further, looking at Halsin as the druid explained, "these two saved your life." Kytes looked over Karlach and Shadowheart in surprise. "Well... all three of us did, but I wouldn't have even known you were in danger were it not for them. You've a lot to thank them for."

"I don't expect he'll be very grateful," Shadowheart sneered a little, giving him an unfriendly look. "But you're welcome all the same. I told you you wouldn't get very far without having others by your side. You owe us."

Kytes scowled, giving her a seering look, but Karlach beat him to it.

"Hey, hey now! Let's lay off the hostilities, yeah? We're all friends here, and he's just been through a lot."

"I'm sure he has," Shadowheart rebuked. "But so have all of us, and he hasn't exactly had much of a track record for being particularly worthwhile company. He's lucky I bothered saving him at all."

Halsin stood to his full height and gestured placation with a step forward, keeping his baritone voice calm and even as he stepped between all of them.

"Alright, that's enough, everyone. I realize some here have gotten off on the wrong foot, but we have enough enemies as it is without making more of each other."

Shadowheart sighed, fidgeting with something in her hands. "No, you're right. I'm sorry. I'll try and keep things a little more civil." She looked across at Kytes. "Just don't expect us to be chummy, and certainly not before I've heard a proper thanks."

That seemed to be enough to bring some of the tension down, Halsin relaxing and picking up a bowl of stew that he presented to Kytes.

"Here. Something to get your strength back up. You're going to need it... but eat it slow."

He took it tentatively, giving Halsin a wary look, and even went so far as to take a cautious sniff.

Shadowheart quietly scoffed across the way. "Oh please, its not poisoned. If any of us wanted you dead, we'd have just left you to your fate."

Kytes glared.

Halsin gave her a look. "Enough."

He still took his while to taste it proper, finding it to be good, but habit and Halsin's warning made him eat it unnecessarily slow and reluctantly.

"While you were out of it, a few of us got to talking," Halsin began, watching Kytes. "You never mentioned there was a voice in your head."

Kytes froze, looking at Halsin, then at the others. Karlach picked up where Halsin left off.

"Lucky us, though. That's how we knew you were in trouble... and where to find you." This was the most surprising thing they'd told him yet, tipping his head in question. "But it did start raising a lot of questions... ---what's with that look?"

He squinted a bit. "Wha' mean? How you knew?"

"I mean, its that guy, right? That one that keeps coming in dreams?" Karlach looked to Shadowheart, then back at Halsin and Kytes. "At first I thought it was just me... or maybe I was going crazy, but the both of you've been talking to him too, right?"

Kytes licked his lip thoughtfully, considering that for a moment. For some reason, he'd assumed he was the only one that was being... 'contacted'. He's not sure why he ever assumed as much. Maybe a similar train of thought. Maybe he'd been going crazy because of the parasite.

"He came to me too," Shadowheart confirmed. "Very handsome... very charming. I don't think I fully trust that, if I'm honest. A little too on-the-nose and convenient in both regards... but I must say, he's very convincing if nothing else."

"Not sure how I feel either, speaking of honesty..." Karlach hummed, looking to Kytes and giving a little head toss. "And what about you? You've met him too, right? Red hair? Blue eyes?" She gestured vaguely with a wave of her hand at her face. "Little scar on his nose and fancy armor?"

He didn't answer, but the look on his face told everything.

"So you too, then. Well... I guess that's somewhat comforting. At least I know I'm not just losing my mind."

"We should discuss more what this means," Halsin proposed, looking between all of them. "I'll admit, this newest bit of information has me a little... troubled. We know that the True Souls are being commanded by... something. But I assume this something is different from whatever the lot of you are hearing, from what I've been told so far."

The druid moved away from Kytes to take a seat around the fire proper, but he was sure not to block Kytes' view.

"Took the words right out of my mouth," Shadowheart agreed. "I have no idea who or what that man is that keeps appearing to me - to us - but I know that, at least from what he's told me, he's not on the side of the Absolute. I still feel like myself... think like myself, as far as I can tell. I don't think anything has changed, besides the obvious fact of having this disgusting worm inside my head."

"I'd like to agree with you... but we should still be cautious," Halsin warned. "The True Souls aren't aware of their infections, nor do they believe that any changes they've undergone are bad ones. This is a tricky thing, and forgive me for saying, but I don't know that any of you would notice if the parasites had changed you in some way." He offered a strained smile. "Still, its undeniable that you do seem to have better autonomy than those cultists. Whoever this dream visitor is, he might truly be an ally. I hope that's the case, and remains so."

"Have to agree with Halsin on that," Karlach shrugged agreeably. "We've no idea what this guy wants, but it seems like we're enemies of his enemies. We could do with worse."

"We could do with much worse," Shadowheart agreed, still fidgeting her hands around something.

"Hey," Karlach barked, drawing all eyes to her. "A thought occurs. He's been talking to us and trying to guide us all this time, and towards a similar point, aye? You wanna make a bet there are others?"

Kytes glanced between them, already knowing that there were. That white-haired twat elf that had pulled a dagger on him after the crash... and that one-eyed man at the grove. He paused a moment, studying Karlach. Hadn't he said something about looking for her...?

"I wouldn't be terribly surprised," Shadowheart mused with a hum, before sneering. "I know there was a Gith on board that vessel before it crashed. In fact..." She turned her eyes to Kytes. "He was with her, trying to escape. Left me to die in that pod."

When Halsin and Karlach looked at her, she rolled her eyes a little and scrunched her nose. "Don't worry, I'm not going to start anything. But it raises the question of where she went. I never saw her corpse along the road at any point, so I have to assume she's still scuttling about somewhere."

"So that's at least one other for sure..." Karlach hummed.

"And those Absolute cultists are out there hunting for us. Want us either dead or captured, I assume so that they can assimilate us into their little group as more mindless pawns."

"I'm still not entirely sure how all of you manage to resist whatever it is that makes the Absolute cultists so subservient," Halsin prompted.

"I'm not completely sure either, but I have a strong hunch," Shadowheart said, finally holding up what she had in her hands. That odd, black prism with the fiery red lines. "Me and that-" She jerked her head towards Kytes, then hesitated as she tried to find a descriptor that wasn't too caustic, "child over there both arrived just outside the goblin camp at about the same time, when the Absolute's voice overtook us. I think this item is what shielded us from its influence and drove it away. At least temporarily."

"Interesting..." Halsin hummed, holding out a hand. "May I see it?"

She immediately pulled back, clutching it to her chest. "No offense, because you at least some a little more trustworthy than most I've met of late..." Kytes didn't fail to notice how she subtly side-eyed him. "But the artifact doesn't leave my hands. Not for any reason."

"I understand," Halsin conceded easily, sitting back again. "But I am most curious about it."

"Well, I can tell you all this much. Both the Absolute's forces and Githyanki raiders are after it, and its my mission to bring it back to Baldur's Gate safely, against all odds. Beyond that, I really don't know any more about it than the rest of you."

Karlach leaned in, but didn't try to take it, eyes scouring its details. "That thing's made of infernal metal. What do all these people want from something crafted in the Hells?"

Shadowheart shrugged. "I haven't the slightest idea. If it really is protecting us, I'm grateful to have it all the same."

Kytes' eyes turned downward towards the ground as he listened, thinking. Shadowheart claimed that item was responsible for protecting them... while that man claimed it was his doing. So which one was the truth? Was Shadowheart just ignorant, or was that man that appeared to him lying?

And he wanted them all to head towards the same place? Was that place Moonrise?

What if it was a ploy all along? He could always be working with the Absolute, trying to lull them all into a false sense of security and being protected... only to bring them right into a trap. It wouldn't be a bad play.

Halsin's voice brought him out of his thoughts, seeming to notice.

"What are your thoughts on all this? You've been quiet, but I can see you're thinking about something."

He didn't like how Karlach and Shadowheart turned their eyes on him as well, bristling a little bit, but he'd just have to tolerate it for now.

"He said------'s pro--tt-t----t-t-t---t---t-ttt-t-t... pro-t-t---tt-t..."

"Protecting?"

Kytes nodded, gesturing a circle at all of them. "...us. 's lying?"

Karlach frowned, sitting back.

"I was wondering about that myself..." Shadowheart admitted. "That figure claims to be what's keeping the Absolute at bay, so that none of us turn into Mind Flayers. I don't know how much of that I believe... but some things are at least too close to coincidence to be overlooked. Like the timing of that man showing up..."

Shadowheart grimaced, and Karlach raised a brow at her.

"That night... after I heard the Absolute's voice. I felt myself slipping away, turning into one of those things." She paused. "And then he appeared, and the next morning, I felt like myself again."

Kytes grimaced. Shadowheart noticed.

"It almost happened to you too, didn't it? Ceremorphosis."

"Hold on a moment..." Karlach pondered. "Let me get my facts straight. You said the artifact was what saved you, but then you almost turned into one of those things, ya? What if it wasn't protecting you? What if it was the trigger?"

Shadowheart stopped to think about that for several long beats, her brows furrowing in concentration. "No..." she drawled slowly. "No, I know it definitely drove away that presence. I think it did protect us. I'm just... not exactly sure how. Or how it ties into that man. All I know is that I wasn't fine later that night, and then after he appeared, I was. So maybe the two of them are connected somehow?"

"How do you figure?" Karlach asked.

"Well... maybe the artifact is... some sort of communication device? Or a... magical focus." Shadowheart shrugged helplessly. "I really have no idea. All I know is I - we - are still alive, and still ourselves, and we're still a long way from Baldur's Gate or a cure for these tadpoles. I wish I had more for you, but alas..."

Karlach hummed.

"And what about you, Karlach? Did you experience anything like that?"

"Me? Can't say that I did. At least not as far as I noticed, and let me tell you... I'm real fucking glad for that. I only just found my freedom. I'm really not in any rush to be giving it up again so soon."

"There's also the question of how the both of you were protected despite that only you hold the artifact," Halsin pointed out, before looking to Kytes. "Whereas it sounds like he had split and gone his own way."

"True..." Shadowheart speculated. "But he was there when the artifact initially activated. Maybe that was all that mattered? So who knows, really? None of us totally understand what's going on yet. Even our dream visitor doesn't seem to know the exact source of these tadpoles, nor what makes them different."

Kytes wondered about that. For all the pondering and grasping for answers that the man seemed to be looking for, he somehow got the feeling he knew more than he was telling. Not least of all since he had admitted to as much at times.

He found his attention drifting from the conversation, reaching out to find that presence that seemed to accompany him everywhere as of late, but he found no answer. Only absence, and silence.

"Well, whatever the case, our objective remains clear. We need to head to Moonrise Towers, and since all of us are headed the same way, we may as well go together. And you," Halsin looked over at Kytes again. "You should get some more rest. After your ordeal, I imagine your body needs it."

Kytes looked at him, lowering his gaze briefly, and just shrugged. Exhaustion was already pulling at his eyelids, his body feeling heavy again and his heart a little bit fluttery.

He didn't trust any of them enough to lower his guard and sleep here, no matter what they claimed, but he already knew he wasn't going to get much of a choice. The exhaustion was too thick. He barely had enough energy just to remain sitting up.

He spooned the last of his stew into his mouth and set the bowl aside, lying on his side and trying to get comfortable. "Fine. Wh'ever."

"And when you wake up," Shadowheart added with a touch of spite. "I'm still waiting for that thanks I'm owed."

He only sighed and closed his eyes, curling up a little as he started to drift.

She could shove her thanks.

--------------------------------

Shadowheart groaned a bit as she forced herself to roll over, sluggishly propping herself on her elbows, then dredging her way up onto her knees. She didn't feel right, but after a quick moment of subtle panic, she was able to rule out ceremorphosis.

No, this was something else. Not quite a hangover, though she was sporting a nasty headache, and she knew she hadn't had that much to drink before she went to bed. Certainly nothing strong enough to knock her on her ass. Still, her memory of going to sleep was hazy at best, impossible to properly recall.

Karlach and Halsin both seemed to be deep asleep, and the campfire they'd made was long ago smoldering into dying cinders, casting the cave into deeper darkness.

So no one had been tending the fire.

Or keeping watch.

And one of them, she noticed, was missing.

She didn't like that, staggering to her feet and over to Halsin, shaking the druid awake.

"Hrng---huh? What?" He sounded groggy, his eyes - what she could see of them - dazed and confused. He blinked, baffled, and tried to look around to get stock of their surroundings.

Getting Karlach up was a different ordeal, having to give her quick little shoves with the sole of her boots. The Tiefling was just so damn hot, and not (in this particular instance and thought process) as in the sexy kind.

"Wake up," Shadowheart growled lowly, still having trouble coordinating her movements, nearly staggering back onto her ass. Fuck's sake. They must've been drugged somehow. Maybe a sleep potion? But when? It didn't matter, so much as the fact that, "Blondie's gone."

Karlach shook her head as she tried to drag herself up from the ground, groaning out groggily, "What do you mean, gone?"

"I mean he's gone," Shadowheart snapped. "Him and all his things."

Halsin wheezed a little as he started to draw up on one of his knees. "Where did he go?"

"I don't know. But I think the little fucker drugged us. Maybe spiked our drinks or cast a spell. Something."

"Why-" Karlach swallowed like she was nauseous, still shaking off the effects of whatever he'd done. "Why would he do that?"

"Because he's an ungrateful little shit," Shadowheart spat venomously. "I warned you both what kind of person he was. Now you know."

Halsin shook his head and managed to stand to his full height, looking around and squinting, as though he'd find the blond lingering nearby just out of sight. Hoping that Shadowheart was wrong.

"There must be a mistake. Why would he do anything like that to us and then just leave us here?"

Shadowheart's blood ran cold, patting down her pockets and searching through her satchels and bags.

"No... no, no, no, no!" She dove for her backpack and started rummaging through it, Halsin and Karlach's eyes on her with concern. She hissed through her teeth and shot back up to her feet. "That rat bastard. Its gone! He drugged us and took the damn prism!"

Silence fell, and Shadowheart couldn't stand even a second of it, kicking a dirtied bowl clear across the cave, hearing the porcelain shatter loudly just like her temper and echo.

"I'm going to find him and strangle him!"

#Squidhawk #drabble #BG3 verse #{--Not me over here #writing the ending of this chapter instead of just leaving it up to imagination #so we could all have a laugh about Shadowheart calling Kytes a ''rat bastard'' :D --}

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[Baldur's Gate 3] - Squidhawk #14

[Cross-posted on AO3]

Arriving at Waukeen's Rest was a little more chaotic and disappointing than he'd first assumed it would be. Much of the buildings had been burned down, the corpses of Flaming Fist and goblins and drow all scattered in the courtyard, wild birds trying to pick at the corpses every opportunity that no one was looking. Everyone fussed and moaned about the disappearance of some man named Ravengard and the death of some people inside. Whatever livestock they'd had previously had either died or fled in fright.

And all of that?

Was none of his concern.

The only thing he cared for was finding the hidden spot that that caravaner had mentioned. The "invitation only" place that the man had been so kind as to tell him the pass-phrase for, before he'd slit his throat and taken his cargo.

The place that he found was... not really what he was expecting. Rather underwhelming, if he were honest. It just looked like a dirt shack with stacks of old, sun-beaten boxes in front, which he carelessly shoved aside with the bottom of his boot before pushing the door open, stepping inside cautiously. His eyes wandered the dark space, and immediately singled out the clusters upon clusters of explosive barrels.

A trap...?

No sooner had he thought it before he saw a flame burst to life from the darkness, held in the palm of some man he'd never met before.

Instinctively, his hands went up in a show of peace, knowing all too well just how bad of a spot this was to be in, his mind scrambling. "Wai'!" The other man paused, but didn't relax, waiting to hear what he'd say next. "Li'l serpen', long shadow."

Finally, the man dispelled the fire in his hand, straightening himself up more.

"Gah - Helm's orbs. Thought you were Flamin' Fist." The man was still shaking off some of his tension, apparently startled, but easing up. "Down you go, then. They'll be on us soon, so if you're looking to trade, you'd best be quick. Entrance is hidden behind the wardrobe-" He extended out a key for him to take. "Go on."

Giving the man a last glance and arched brow, he strode around the small maze of shelving towards the back of the hut until he found a hatch, leading down into a storage room. Far back in the corner, he found the wardrobe in question, pushing open the false backing that led into a rather impressive cave, heading towards a thick, iron gate.

"That's far enough!" a rough female voice called from across the cave, standing at attention on an adjacent cliff. "What's your business down here? Answer honestly, and maybe we'll kill ya clean."

Kytes' arms crossed and his nose wrinkled, shifting his weight from one leg to the other before he swiveled slightly to point back towards the entrance. "Guy------fron', lemme through."

Not pacified, she barked, "Then your answer decides his fate as well as your own, so make it good."

"Only here-----'rade things."

"Raid?" she hissed, and he tensed, eyes widening as she reached for her bow and he quickly held up his hands.

"No! No." He cursed his faulty words and quickly searched for something he wouldn't screw up, correcting himself. "Buy. Sell." He licked his lips, trying to force the word out. "TT-t-t----t-rrr---tt-tr---a----de."

She seemed to relax a bit, at least. "Trade with what? Your life was ours the moment you walked in here." She still wasn't friendly. "But... maybe I'll let you buy it back. I have a job needs doing." She gave a hand signal towards people below, before calling across to him, "We've disarmed the traps. Come down."

Breathing out under his breath, he deflated a bit, moving towards the gate and pushing it open. He definitely wouldn't be sticking around this place for long, but he could at least offload some unneeded junk for coin and see if they had anything of worth to him.

With all the explosive barrels he saw at the entrance, maybe he'd be lucky and they'd have a stock of smokepowder bombs for sale.

---------------------------------------------

"Some of my people are missing," Zarys explained. "More importantly, so is their cargo. Find them. Barring that, just bring back the chest. Unopened. I'll pay you a handsome sum to get it back."

Kytes crossed his arms, thinking for a moment about what she told him. "Found them," he shrugged. "Already dead." She didn't need to know the last survivor had their throat slit by him.

"Shit," she spat. "And what about the cargo?"

Slinging his bag off his back, he rummaged through it a moment and carefully pulled the iron flask from within, standing back up and pulling his backpack on before holding it out to her. "This?"

She took it from his hands and smiled, but it was a thin smile, her eyes curling at the corners in a strange way and going glassy. Something was wrong.

"You... you opened it?" He could hear panic underlying her voice and he frowned. "You've killed us all. Every last one of us." Her smile turned into a scowl, her eyes alight with malice. "But you're not getting out of it either. Lads! Don't let him leave! Kill him!"

------------------------------------------

Somewhere in his gut, he'd known this was a bad idea, but had he listened to it? No. He seldom did. He usually convinced himself that he'd be fine and he could handle it. Sometimes he was right. Often times he wasn't.

Why did he never listen to his better sense? It was beyond him.

He hissed and all but threw himself to the ground as an arrow whizzed past his head, barely missing, and quickly scrambled further into the cave. He didn't have smokepowder bombs, but there were explosive barrels and oil all over this cave, and he did still have some alchemist's fire, which he hefted as soon as he saw a few of Zarys' goons standing too near to some of the barrels.

They scattered or were thrown screaming, much to his satisfaction, but he didn't plan to stay and fight them all. He needed to get back to the entrance, quickly, but he was going to have to maneuver cleverly to get there.

He already had half a plan forming in his mind when a huge, hairy beast ran to block his way ahead, letting out a thunderous snarl that made every hair on his body instantly stand up in alarm, skidding to a stop.

His eyes glazed over, his body freezing, and in a quick flash, he was elsewhere...

Standing on the dark street, which was devoid of most city life at this hour. It wasn't uncommon for him to skulk about the shadows, looking for opportunities to take things that didn't belong to him. Some nights he was largely successful. Others, he didn't find much.

Tonight, he had other troubles to worry about than just whether or not he managed to pocket any goods that were worth his while. The night prior, he'd gotten caught trespassing in a shop, and he'd struck the shopkeeper upside the head with a makeshift weapon, knocking them unconscious as he'd fled.

Tonight, the Fist were out looking, and they had help.

A huge white dog stepped out from another street, nose to the cobbles, before it lifted its head towards him. Its eyes and its pelt both shone in the moonlight, and even at so late an hour, he could see every thick muscle rippling beneath its skin. It stared him down ominously, then lifted its head to let loose a loud, sharp bray, bringing its master running.

"Did you find them, boy?" The Fist spotted him - he spotted them. Kytes didn't waste time. He turned and took off running. "Get 'im, boy!"

He dared to look back, and regretted it as he saw the huge dog quickly closing distance, its jowls flopping with each bound before it lunged. He almost tripped over his own feet, swiveling to raise his arms and try to protect himself, and was immediately taken to the ground.

The dog snarled - he screamed. It pushed its square head past his arms, clamping down on his face and savagely jerking its head, tearing chunks that would never heal right until his face was soaked red with blood. He instinctively kicked and clawed, trying to wrestle the dog off him, but the damage was already done--

Without even thinking, barely even seeing in front of him, he swung his knife into the wolf-dog's skull, hearing it scream in pain and retreat away from him.

He had to get away.

He had to get away, before--

He turned, and froze, gasping as a blade pierced his stomach. When did-?

It wedged deeper under his ribs, making him choke and grasp the wrist of the person that'd stabbed him, trying to blink the haze away from his mind and remember where he was. Where was he-? What was he---

They pulled the blade out and plunged it into him again, and he grimaced in pain with a soft wheeze, barely a whimper.

"Take his things. He won't be needing them."

Someone else was wrestling his backpack free from him. He blindly lashed out with his dagger, but someone caught his wrist and twisted it until he cried out in pain and the blade fell from his hand.

"We'll feed his innards to the dogs. That'll make 'em nice and happy."

No, no, no-!

He finally managed enough movement to yank his arm away and shove off the man that still had a blade in his gut, yelping as it yanked free and took some of his blood with it. He pressed a hand to his stomach, trying to keep the blood in, stumbling, and--

He felt his foot slip, falling onto open air. All the breath left him as his shoulders struck stone several meters below, bouncing off another ledge and rolling uncontrollable over sheer, stone slopes until finally stopping in some deep, dark place below. Bloody teeth gritted tightly together as he arched his back and writhed in pain, trying to roll off of his back.

"Where'd he go?"

"Should we go after him?"

"Leave him. There's only one way out, an' that's through us. Besides, he'll bleed out long before he manages to crawl his way out of that pit."

Managing to plant a hand under him, he pushed himself up with a grimace, gasping breathlessly as he tried to take stock of his surroundings, but the darkness was too thick, the only light a faint flicker of torches far above him. Moving around on his hands and knees only made him hiss as his wounds tugged and spilled more blood into the dirt, groping around for anything of use.

All he managed to find were long-forgotten bones to keep him company in his final moments, and his awareness was quickly fading, forcing him to roll onto his back again and prop himself against the cold stone. Something gently clattered as his hand bumped against it, blindly patting his hand around until he found it and held it up to the distant light.

One of his daggers... seemed it had fallen with him. Why couldn't it have been one of his potions?

Well... he supposed it was its own kind of mercy, dropping his hand down and laughing hoarsely, barely a whisper on his lips, before it melted into an equally hoarse cough that had him wincing.

So this was it.

Dying in a dark pit with nothing but himself and a dagger. Somewhere no one would even find his bones for another hundred years.

What a fitting end for a miserable, sick, forgotten urchin like himself.

The cold was already seeping in to every corner of his awareness, in the parts where feeling hadn't left him entirely, but his wounds still burned and he tightened his fingers around the handle of his knife. One small mercy, at least...

It wasn't the first time he had contemplated it. He'd found himself staring at a knife's sharp edge more times than he could count, or peered over the edge of a fatal height, or watched the dark, churning waters of the sea and thought of whether or not it would be painful to drown. Death had dogged his steps every moment he drew breath, from the moment he was born, cursing him with a weak heart that could fail him at any moment without reason.

He had danced with it, sometimes.

In moments where his heart fluttered too hard, agony within his ribs, until he'd passed out for days at a time.

In moments where the world felt too cruel, and he'd tried to take his own life, and failed, or chickened out at the last minute.

But now? Well, nothing was going to save him now. Not in this place. Not with these wounds.

The least he could do for himself was make it quicker, raising the blade and steeling himself to drive it into his throat. It was already hard to breathe right, and if he waited much longer, he wouldn't have the strength.

[Don't!]

His eyes cracked open again, and he couldn't help wheezing another voiceless laugh, smiling mirthless.

And there he is. My self-declared protector.

[You're grievously injured...] No shit. [But this isn't the way.]

Then what is? There was nothing here that would save him, not even if he tried his hardest. Those bastards had been right. He was bleeding out faster than he'd ever be able to climb out. He had no friends, no one that gave a damn about him. No one was coming.

[Not this.] How very helpful of him. [Just hold on. You can't give up yet.]

He choked, breathing coming in strained pants. If there was ever a time to give up, now is that time...

Fuck. He was starting to lose consciousness, his arm going limp and refusing to move. He didn't want to admit it, but he was afraid, tears pricking at his eyes. Gods - he didn't want to die. Not here. Not in this place. Not like this.

His eyes rolled back and he found his surroundings flickering, changing, from darkness to ethereal, starry skies, to darkness again.

[Just hang on... I'm here. I'll protect you.]

Protect, protect, protect. False promises... always false promises. You can't protect me. No one has. No one ever will.

The space around him kept flickering and shifting, back and forth. He felt the presence of someone else encircle him, holding him rested against them, and his surroundings stabilized into that surreal dream place. Somewhere in the distance, he heard thunder booming, but it was too far away and he was too exhausted to care.

"I have you..." Rune's voice came softly; gently, a warm hand slipping against his jaw and cradling his head against the man's throat. For the first time - the only time - he didn't try to pull away or resist. If Rune wanted to hurt him, or use him for his body, it didn't matter now. He wasn't going to live long enough to experience it, or have to live with the consequences afterwards.

For once, he just wanted to be held without feeling afraid, giving in to the embrace willingly.

Just once...

"You're going to be alright, I promise..." The hand on his jaw moved to brush through his hair, holding him securely. Safely. Like he was something precious. He wished he could have had more of this while it still mattered, but it was nice to have even for a moment here at the end. "I'm not going to leave you to die alone and forgotten in this place. Just hang on a little longer. You're going to make it through this."

If he had more strength, he'd have laughed at him. He could only close his eyes as darkness took him.

You're a liar.

#Squidhawk #drabble #BG3 #suicide ideation tw

[th-ramblr]

[Baldur's Gate 3] - Squidhawk #13

[Cross-posted on AO3]

[Alone again, I see.]

Kytes' eyes cracked partway open, staring off at his surroundings. Between all the chaos with Karlach and then the gnolls, he was exhausted, taking shelter under the shadow of some cliffs and trees along the edge of a side-road. The sun hadn't yet fully set, but for all intents and purposes, night had fallen. All that remained of day was a sliver of the sun's glow on the far horizon.

Kytes shifted from where he sat with his back against the stone wall, arms crossed over his chest, lifting his head from his own shoulder.

"Wha'si' ma'er?"

[It doesn't, I suppose,] his tag-along commentator hummed. [But it wouldn't be a bad idea to make more allies. I'm a bit surprised. It seemed like you might've actually found someone you liked a little.]

A scowl etched Kytes' face. He had no idea what led the other to believe he actually liked Karlach. Or anyone for that matter.

[Perhaps 'liked' is too strong a word... but you seemed less averse to her than others. Its a start.]

"Don' need anyone," he scoffed, sitting forward and taking a stray stick, poking at the fire he'd made with the end of it. "No one."

[Everyone needs someone,] the voice argued. [No one gets very far in this world alone, and certainly not with the things we have to face now. I know that I need you, and you I. But as I've already told you, the help I can offer is limited. It would be wise to seek others out who can be trusted.]

His frown deepened.

[You don't have to be friends with them,] he added. [You just need to be able to get along well enough to get things done.]

"So you li'e me?" He wasn't sure what made him ask. It wasn't like it mattered. It wasn't like the man was likely to care beyond how useful he was.

[I do happen to like you, actually,] the man mused. For some reason that surprised him, and scared him. [You're resourceful, and more clever than others give you credit for, and stubborn in a way that's useful, most of the time...] A thoughtful pause. [Sometimes that stubbornness gets the better of you though, when it comes to dealing with more civilized people... or people who would be useful to you. You have your reasons, I'm sure. All the same, we can't afford to be blindly obstinate.]

Kytes squinted, rolling that last word over in his head, trying to recall if he'd heard it before.

The voice huffed. [It means being unreasonable difficult.]

A disagreeing huff. "No' unreasonable..."

[Perhaps not...] He felt like that was only because the other wasn't willing to argue. The voice came again, softer and alluring. [Come. Close your eyes. We can talk, while your body rests...]

For whatever reason, he obeyed easily enough where he normally wouldn't, making himself comfortable again and closing his eyes. Sleep came swiftly, fading into blackness, before reality seemed to shift to a space that was slowly becoming more familiar to him.

And a face framed in red hair, that likewise smiled at him in warm welcome, extending a hand out in invitation.

"Sit with me for a while. You wanted to talk more, didn't you? I can spare some time now."

Kytes squinted at him, remembering that the other could more or less read his thoughts, before stepping somewhat closer. He didn't accept or reach out for the extended hand, taking a seat out of reach, but the redhead seemed neither surprised nor perturbed by it.

He drew his legs up to his chest, resting his head on them and watching the redhead, inspecting him and trying to gather his thoughts. Once again, he found that the moment he had room to speak, all the words fled his mind and his head went blank.

"You're not used to this, are you?" the man observed, watching him in turn. "Being invited to conversation?"

Kytes' gaze finally averted, turning his head away, but never quite letting the redhead slip out of his peripheral vision. "Yeah, well... no one cares what an idiot who can't string a sentence together has to say." Delivered with venom in his voice.

His gaze flicked back without moving his head in time to see the man's expression darken a bit. Pity. He'd seen that look before. He hated it. It made him quietly bristle with agitation.

"You're not an idiot," he argued, tipping his head, his brows furrowing a bit as he thought of the right words to say. "Limited in some abilities people expect you to have, yes. Young and rash, most certainly, but I've met a fair few people far less intelligent and with no excuses for it, and you are like none of those people."

Kytes' eyes rolled, swinging his head back towards him. "Well that's all the rest of the world sees, so maybe they're right." And maybe they were. He had plenty enough scars, seen and unseen, to attest to all the trouble he'd managed to get himself into. Troubles few others seemed unlucky or stupid enough to find. "Doesn't matter. None of them like me, and I don't like them. That's just fine by me."

Several beats of silence tailed after his words, and neither of them were fooled by the declaration. Not really.

"I think those are the things you tell yourself, to lessen the sting of loneliness, and to justify in your own mind why things are the way they are, but all those are is excuses. I don't condemn you for it, of course. We all have to tell ourselves certain things to get by, sometimes, but there are people who see your worth. Halsin, for one."

"He's only using me," Kytes scoffed, not letting him get much further as he swung his head around the other way, this time not caring to keep the other in the corner of his vision. "Just because I make a good tool for some doesn't mean they give a damn." He could sense the words just itching on the man's tongue, looking back again with accusation in his eyes. "You're the same. You said it yourself. I can go places and do things you can't, and if it wasn't for that, you wouldn't care."

Silence dragged again, and he could see the calculation in the other's blue eyes, thinking.

"This is what I meant by being blindly obstinate." He shook his head a bit. "But it doesn't matter. We could argue back and forth all day, but I don't think you want to hear my persuasions. Let's try and make this talk more productive, for the time I have. Why don't you tell me more about yourself?"

Kytes stare was unforgivingly scalding, even if the other man seemed to ignore it in favor of an easygoing smile. "Why should I tell you anything?"

He shrugged. "Because getting to know people usually leads to trust. Or so I find."

"And what about you?" He pushed himself to his feet, feeling his agitation grow. "I still don't know a damn thing about you, but you want to know all about me. So what? So you have things you can use against me, while you sit cozy and try to pretend to be my friend?" He watched as the man continued to smile through his tirade, but the warmth drained from his eyes despite the mask. "Who are you?"

Once again, a stretch of silence, the man looking away, down, into the distance, thinking. He finally looked back.

"I've gone by many names over the years, but you can call me Rune. I was a brash, hotheaded young man, just like you, once. I found trouble wherever I went, getting into fights, falling in and out with all different kinds of people, some who were good for me and others who weren't." His eyes fixed on Kytes carefully, watching him deflate a bit as the blond listened. "Naturally, my escapades eventually landed me into the kind of trouble I couldn't get myself out of. Like you, I was infected, and like you, I looked for a way to fix my situation, but I was unsuccessful. For a time, I'd lost all hope of ever getting free... and then two things happened. The first was that I managed to steal a power that allowed me to... become myself again, and the second thing that happened was you. Without one or the other, I wouldn't have even a chance of doing things right this time."

"Why am I so important in all this though?" Kytes jerked his shoulders up in a hostile impression of a shrug. "Why did you choose me?"

"Chance." The answer was immediate. "That's all. It was by chance you, out of thousands, managed to get plucked out of Baldur's Gate into the Illithid ship, and it was by chance you managed to escape captivity and survive. With a little help at the end, of course."

Kytes paused, brows knitting in consideration. "But you were on the ship too," he thought aloud, pointing uncertainly. "Weren't you?" No answer, only a thin smile. "I saw you... in your memory. You were there, after I got out of the pod. You got out too."

But why had he not noticed him on the ship itself? Never once had their paths crossed. Suddenly the gears in his mind were turning. Something wasn't adding up.

"So the ship crashed, and you saved me. But then where were you? Where did you go after that?" He couldn't have gone that far away, right? None of the others from the crash had managed to make much distance. "Where could you have gone that looks like-" he swiveled and gestured. "This?"

"I'm afraid that's something I can't tell you. Not yet."

Kytes frowned and turned back towards him.

"Its safer for you if you don't know. If you'll trust me on nothing else, trust me on this."

"You're afraid," Kytes spat. "That's why you won't tell me. Why?"

"I told you," Rune repeated slowly, an edge of warning to his voice. "It - isn't - safe. Not only that, but you need to focus on Moonrise Towers. On taking down the Absolute. Once we destroy that, we'll be free to find each other... and I can tell you everything you want to know."

"Why can't you just tell me now?"

Rune watched him for a moment, then huffed softly. "I could do that. But there seems to be a bit of a problem with our relationship now. You see, I've answered many of your questions, told you quite a lot of things, including told you about myself. You accuse me of asking too much and answering too little, but it seems to me that now the shoe is on the other foot. I've answered your questions. Now its your turn."

Kytes stared him down for a long while, their eyes silently battling for who would give in first, before Kytes ultimately looked away and scoffed with reluctance.

"What is there even to know about me that could possibly be of interest to you?"

Rune beckoned another invitation with his hand to sit. "Just tell me about yourself. Let me get to know you, your origins, the things about you that you want to share... there's no barriers between us here. You can talk freely and I can listen and understand."

Kytes grumbled, once again taking a seat. "Not exactly anything special about me to share."

"It doesn't have to be special or unique," Rune insisted gently, pity once again entering his expression as Kytes looked down at nothing in front of him, picking at a blade of grass. "Tell me anything. The exciting, the mundane..." When Kytes didn't speak up, he tried, "How about you tell me how you lost your voice?"

A huff. "I fell, when I was a kid. Playing some stupid kid's game, and I hit my head. When I woke up again, I couldn't talk right, no matter how hard I tried. The priests said either I'd get better or I'd be dumb like that for the rest of my life. I guess I was just lucky enough to get stuck with 'dumb'."

"But your thoughts are clear enough," Rune pointed out. "So I'd say not very dumb at all." A few beats of pause. "It was cruel of them to tell you that."

"Yeah, well what would they care? Didn't have any parents, and I was born with a weak heart, so I'm going to die young anyway. My life was never worth anything to anyone."

"Well its worth something to me."

Kytes glanced up, still suspicious.

"Your life could very well be the key to saving mine, so I'm grateful, for the very fact that you exist at all. I can't do this without you." Kytes looked at him as though he'd sprouted a second head which then sprouted a third head. Rune only smiled. "Tell me more."

"Like what?"

"Your accomplishments, your struggles... anything that would help me understand you better really. I imagine with all of those things stacked against you, things must have been hard."

Kytes shrugged noncommittally. "I guess..."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

Rune hummed, pushing to his feet after a moment and extending an upward palm. "Take my hand."

Kytes looked at it as though it would burn him. "Why?"

"Just trust me." The look he gave Rune was the exact opposite of trust. "And if I do anything to break it, then never trust me again. It would be within your rights."

Taking a deep breath out, Kytes rested his hand over Rune's delicately, afraid of the contact and ready to yank back at the slightest discomfort. Closing around his, Rune's hand pulled him to his feet with care, free arm slipping behind Rune's own back.

"Do you dance?"

"Never." And he was more than just apprehensive about it.

"That's quite alright. Just take it slow, follow my lead. I won't do anything too complicated, or touchy." He began to take slow, deliberate steps, humming a quiet rhythm in his throat to help set the pace.

Goosebumps raised all across Kytes' skin, tingling with anxiety, but Rune didn't draw attention to it or put on any pressure to keep up, slowing his pace to whatever Kytes could match, moving in small, calm sweeps and twirls that were easy to mimic. Even so, occasionally his steps would stumble, and his breathing came flighty, a subtle panic building in the back of his mind.

"Don't think about anything," Rune urged him quietly. "Just focus on here and now. Listen to the sound of my humming."

Kytes swallowed thickly, nodding. The movements were the same, but the pace quickened slightly, forcing him to pay more attention. Through the turns and swivels, Rune stepped backwards, just far enough that it forced Kytes to step forward and follow, led along by the single hand holding his. Occasionally, Rune would change direction when he wasn't expecting it, and once he even yelped slightly as the redhead tugged him a little too fast.

"Sorry, sorry..." Rune apologized, seemingly sincerely, slowing his pace just a touch.

It was... almost nice. Something he could almost enjoy.

But the moment was poisoned by memories of a different time and place, leaking through little lapses of attention. Most of it, he could ignore, but something in that trickle of recollections stopped him in his tracks.

That one little piece was the lever to a floodgate of bad memories;

...of people dressed finely, with glittering jewelry and fancy attire specially imported and tailored for some of the Gate's elites. Of expensive wines and other drinks that flowed as freely as water, and entertainers paid to privately keep all of the party's important attendees elated. It was somewhere that someone like him would never have been, except to service the powerful, and serve he did.

At first, nothing he hadn't agreed to, bringing refills of food and alcohol and cleaning up soiled dishes and garbage, so the important people could keep partying.

But then he'd caught the eye of a rich, fat merchant that liked the look of him, and wasn't shy about pulling him closer and slipping fingers beneath his clothing to feel his body, even with so many others watching.

Retribution was swift, when he resisted and struck out at him, one of the guards in attendance beating him down, and everyone else watching simply let it happen.

What did it matter? He was a servant of no background and no importance, causing 'problems' for the people he was supposed to be working for.

But the worst of it wasn't there, at that party. It was where he went, dragged along by the merchant lord's workers to a private room, where they-

He wrenched himself free with a vicious tug, seeming to startle Rune as he suddenly put up distance, wrapping his arms around himself and shaking.

"Are you alright?" When Rune tried to step towards him, he immediately jumped back, his eyes wide and wild.

"No!" It came as an animal snarl, baring his teeth and turning his back to him, but still with Rune in the corner of his eye. More softly, he repeated. "No."

Stay away from me.

Rune seemed to catch the hint, retreating the single step he'd taken, outstretched hand falling to his side, but he looked disappointed.

"Okay... I won't come near you."

Kytes was done dancing.

Done talking.

He'd had enough.

Rune sighed. "Get some rest. I should as well." He tried to uplift his voice a little more, to keep the tone light. "We'll talk again soon. When you're ready."

#Squidhawk #drabble #BG3 verse

[th-ramblr]

[Baldur's Gate 3] - Squidhawk #12

[Cross-posted on AO3]

The moment that Kytes saw Anders' eye subtly narrow and twitch, he knew the man was lying.

Did it really surprise him? Not even a little bit. He was used to Anders' type. He'd seen it much of his life, in other faces, both men and women.

They were the same types who would corner him in a blind alleyway, or invite him to a private room, or be sure to get him nice and drunk, all so they could have their fun overpowering and raping him. When the time came to face justice, they would lie with a straight face and use whatever they could against him. His broken speech was usually at the forefront of their deception, painting him as someone entirely stupid and delusional who didn't know what he was saying and whose word couldn't be trusted, and people would believe them over him every time.

To see the same picture tried on him? Playing innocent and charming to put Karlach in a bad light? He may not have trusted her, or particularly liked her, but he knew bold-faced bullshit when he saw it, and he wasn't about to play along.

The moment he made that clear, the simpering act dropped like a piece of shattering porcelain. Anders proudly, delightfully threatened Karlach, and then threatened him in turn, causing him to curl his lip back and snarl.

The one thing that did surprise him, greatly in fact - and what told him that he was definitely not wrong in his assessment of who were the evil ones in the whole exchange - was Karlach.

Even in his own bristling moment, he could feel rage itself roll off Karlach like a physical force, even before he felt the heat of her flames near him hungrily writhing over her form. He side-stepped with some measure of alarm as she bared her teeth at Anders and squared off, her eyes as alight as her manifested fire, her voice a rolling, thunderous growl that steadily grew in volume until it boomed.

"Avernus was never my home. It was my prison! I'm free now. AND I'M NEVER - GOING - BACK!"

Kytes took several more hasty steps back as the flames roared into a swirling tempest around her, threatening to set the entire building ablaze as she vaulted over the desk and hefted her greataxe for Anders, who desperately scrambled to get away without enough time to draw his sword properly.

Kytes didn't have a lot of time to think as Anders' two female companions moved to join the fray, but one well-placed smokepowder bomb swiftly dropped them both, permanently. Anders didn't have much more luck than them, Karlach cutting him down brutal and bloody.

In all honesty, he wasn't sure she had ever really needed his help, as formidable as a bear savaging a trapped doe. It was admittedly frightening, and even as the 'Paladins' lay dead in their own blood, her flames continued to rage, as did her anger.

Karlach panted on breaths that bordered on something akin to panic underlying the surface savagery, her face twisting in psychological pain.

"Fuck them," she spat venomously, her eyes searching for more enemies to fight and cut down, luckily never settling on him with such intent, but it still made him nervous. "Fuck Zariel. I won't go back. I'm never going back." Her voice cut with agitated distress, before melting into another growl. "And if any of mummy's little friends want to pick up where the others left off... they'll find nothing but a pile of ash."

Kytes took a few retreating steps, half-glancing towards the door behind him, but keeping Karlach within his view enough he could react if she tried anything. She didn't, her focus elsewhere, eyes sharp like a wild animal and searching for someone else to bite - maybe figuratively, maybe literally - while her flames started to eat up the wooden floor and nearby furniture.

She snarled at no one, and then finally at him, clutching her axe tightly. "I'm not done with this place yet! I don't want you in the way getting hurt, so get out. NOW!"

He didn't need to be told twice, eyes glassy with wariness and making a hasty retreat as she screamed and smashed through wooden crates and furniture, setting more and more of the place on fire as she went until the building blazed fire and pillars of smoke towards the sky.

At first, he only stepped backward and watched, but shaky nerves won overall, and he hastily made his way further away, backtracking the road that had led him here since the mountain pass had collapsed over the toll road long before he and Karlach had arrived.

In his rush to put distance between himself and the toll house, he didn't notice anything amiss until he'd already stumbled right into it, coming to a swift halt as he nearly ran straight into a gnoll that was perched atop a cluster of rocks, howling to alert its pack.

With eyes wide and daggers drawn, he prepared for a fight that already had his blood roaring in his ears.

------------------------------------------

After using up the last of his bombs, Kytes was far from happy, but he was alive nonetheless.

He had used no small number of potions to keep himself going, and playing hide-and-seek with anything even vaguely canine was his own personal version of Hell.

The only saving grace about it was it was a game where he got to stab anything that found him in the eye, or the throat, and there was nothing he wanted to stab more than Gods damned dogs.

His prize for a hard fought and hard won battle - his immediate prize, at least - was an illithid tadpole nestled in the brain of the largest gnoll.

His second prize was a man who was grateful for his suffering and all too happy to hide in the cave while he fought it out and risked his life. More importantly, some information the man had about a secret 'invitation-only' tavern in Waukeen's Rest for more underground types... and a locked chest of cargo the man was transporting there.

He tried to insist it was nothing but a bunch of useless baubles, but Kytes knew better enough. No one went to so much trouble for useless junk.

And seeing how the man had been all too happy to let him fend for himself against the gnolls, he wasn't terribly fussed with feeling bad about slashing the man's throat when his guard was down and picking open the chest for its treasures.

Or, treasure.

It was some sort of odd silver flask, and by the looks of it, it held a living something inside. With the sinister, magical air the thing had about it, he decided it better not to pop the flask open, but maybe he could sell it for a pretty bit of gold.

He managed to get quite a few new bottles of alchemist's fire as well, which weren't as good as smokepowder bombs, but they were better than nothing, as well as some other odds and ends hidden in the cave.

Just as he started to relax and went to exit the cave, another figure appeared at its entrance, making him jump and ready himself to fight.

After a moment, he realized it was Karlach.

"There you are!" She visibly relaxed when she saw him, relief etching her face, as well as some guilt. "I've been looking all over. I'm sorry about all that. I figure I must have scared you with all the... smashing and yelling and flaming."

She wasn't entirely wrong, but he wasn't going to admit it out loud.

Karlach took a moment to survey the dead gnolls and caravaners, and the blood and viscera scattered all over.

"Hell of a fight, whoever these people were... but at least they managed to take some of these gnolls down with them."

Kytes held his tongue.

"Either way, a promise is a promise, eh? You helped me with those ignots, now its my turn to help you. We both want to get rid of these tadpoles, after all, so we might as well travel together. Keep each other company. Keep each other safe."

He gave a dismissive sniff and looked away, appearing as unimpressed with her as he could manage. "Go----your way. I'll go mine."

"Oh come on now, you don't really mean that." After a beat, him not budging, she checked more tentatively. "Right?"

He looked away further, if only to make a point. "I do."

She sighed with a brief, defeated slump, pressing a hand to her chest and then gesturing off in what he presumed to be the direction of the burnt toll house. "Look, all that back there? That wasn't me. It felt good, yeah. It felt really good... to let it all out, but I'm not that angry person. I'll never turn that sort of anger on a friend, you hear me? But your enemies - our enemies. I'll give them all the fires of Hell and then some. You can trust me. I'll protect you however I'm able."

Protect. Protect. Protect. He was getting tired of hearing it, lately always from people he didn't know. False promises. Fake 'niceness'. He was sick of it. All of them were liars, in his mind. He wasn't going to let his guard down just like that.

He huffed out through his nose, giving her a glare and lifting his chin haughtily. "No. No one." He jerked his shoulders up in a hostile shrug. "Done. Go away."

Kytes moved to step past her, making a point to ignore how she gaped a little bit at him, at a loss for his attitude. His back was already to her when she found her voice again, but she didn't move from where she stood.

"What's it gonna take to get you to believe me? You changed your mind to help me before! What made you change it again?"

He didn't answer. Kept walking. Her voice didn't come again, letting him go on his way unchallenged.

He didn't see her tsk unhappily far behind him, nor place her hands on her hips and shake her head in confused exasperation. It wouldn't have made a difference even if he had.

#Squidhawk #drabble #BG3 verse #rape mention tw

[th-ramblr]

[Baldur's Gate 3] - Squidhawk #11

[Cross-posted on AO3]

The first thing to come back to his awareness was the sound of rushing water not far away. The second was the nearby warmth of a fire to the right of him, making him more sharply aware of the cold to his left, tempting him to change positions and turn his other side towards the heat. Doing that however would require he move first, and he wasn't sure he was motivated enough to do so just yet.

He squared his shoulders a bit with a soft inhale, stretching his stiff legs out, then settled again, starting to blink open his eyes.

He wasn't expecting to hear a female voice beside him.

"You finally woke up. Gave me a right scare." He jumped slightly, looking at the Tiefling woman with large, startled eyes. "Thought for sure you were dead for a good minute. Wondered if I was going to have to bury you."

When he didn't immediately relax, she frowned, leaning in. He noticed that the fire he'd felt close to him was coming directly from her, flames licking up her skin with a dim, orange glow.

"Hey. Relax, yeah? You're safe here. I haven't let anything near us."

He sat up a little more, the cloak wrapped around him like a blanket falling away, trying to get his bearings. He didn't even know where here was, and how he got 'here' was hazy at best.

"You were out for a few days. Collapsed after these-" she gestured vaguely at the side of her head. "-things in our brains connected us. I thought for sure you were dead, except... well..." She trailed off, not finishing that thought as uncertainty seemed to flicker across her face for a moment. "But hey, I'm glad that it seems I had nothing to worry about after all! Didn't even get your name to put on your tombstone if you had died on me, which would have been a right shame."

He gave a huff at her words, stretching his back with a grimace and sitting up a bit more.

"I'm Karlach," she introduced, keeping a chipper cadence. "What's your name?"

He gave her a withering side-eye, turning his head mostly away. "None----your business."

"Oh boy, an arsehole!" she sneered a little, a touch of sarcastic edge to her voice, before she grinned all fangs. "Winning you over will be entertaining. Though I'd have thought, what with my watching over you while you laid there unconscious a few days, you'd be a little less standoffish."

She shrugged noncommittally, moving on from it without missing a beat.

"Look, if I'd wanted to cause you any problems, like hurt you or steal your things, I'd have done it while you laid there and left you to the scavengers. Gods know there are plenty enough things along this road with teeth and claws that'd be happy to have you for supper, assuming you didn't freeze to death first. You're welcome."

He swiveled his head towards her, looking at her as though she'd sprouted a second head. She seemed to catch on quickly.

"You don't trust me. Look, I get it. Big, scary demon soldier, pops up out of nowhere in the middle of nowhere while you're having a rough time of things, and lures you off to the side just before you pass out. Saw a little bit inside your head too, you know, when we connected? Felt a glimpse of that uncertainty you have about others. I understand that, a little."

His look was one of doubt, but he didn't speak. Likely it would just be worse if he did. If she didn't know about his speech problems already, he wanted to avoid tipping her off if he could. Easier said than done, of course.

"I do," she insisted, catching the look. "Whether you believe me is another matter, I suppose. Friendly faces are pretty slim pickings out here though. I figure anyone out in this wilderness that doesn't want me dead is good enough friend material for me." She was back to smiling again, her face warm in more than just temperature.

"In any case," she continued, not at all shy about continuing to speak where he left her in silence. "Saw just enough in your head to know I'm not the only one out here with problems on top of problems. A Mind Flayer parasite, huh? Fuck's sake." She shook her head in exasperation. "Seems like you managed to make some inroads trying to get it sorted. But alas, no joy."

Just as his attention started to drift away, losing interest in her words, she asked abruptly. "Well, doesn't seem either of us can do anything about these parasites just yet, but what do you say to solving at least one of our problems and having a bit of fun?"

He arched a brow at her, wary.

"Oh don't give me that look," she grinned at him. "Mentioned before I had some people after me. How'd you like to help me kill some evil bastards?"

When he grimaced, she continued.

"A little background, if your moral compass needs something to point at... You already know I fought in the Blood War. I was good at killing demons. Really good. So good, Zariel - the Archdevil herself - made me her personal attack dog." Her lip twisted into a snarl, speaking the name with familiar, utter contempt.

Karlach sat radiating anger for a moment, her flames burning hotter, before she sighed heavily and looked away for a second.

"I played along until I could get the fuck out of there. Took me ten years to escape, but now I'm free. Zariel's sent goon after goon to hunt me down, but believe me when I tell you I'm not going," she declared defiantly. "The latest yappy little dogs she's sicced on me are nearby. A group of dopes posing as Paladins of Tyr. I say that after we get some good food in us and you're back on your feet, we go and show them what for. So what do you say? Want to come help me take them down?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, feeling like he was being used. Again.

"You wan'-----kk-k-k----kk-k-k-... k-kk-k--k-----k-k..." HUFFS. "Kk-i-ll people-hun'ing you?" So much for his voice not betraying him.

She noticed, tipping her head and furrowing her brows, drawling a slow and thoughtful, "Yeah..."

Remembering herself and straightening up, she added, "Don't worry, I'll lead the charge. I'm not asking you to fight them all for me... but I could use your help. Seems like you're the type who can handle yourself well... when you're not passing out."

The tease, however lighthearted, wasn't appreciated.

"There's a lot of them, and only one of me. After that, we can team up, and I can help you out. Take Faerun by the short hairs. Sound good?"

He scoffed, looking away. "No' in'restt---t--t-ed."

"Well damn. After a decade in Hell, I was hoping for a little company. Especially after I sat around, sharing my warmth with you." She pondered her disappointment before shrugging. "Well, I can take a hint. Best of luck, when you go on your way. You're gonna need it." Karlach pushed herself to her feet, looking down at him. "How's about some breakfast before you hit the road though, eh? Few days out cold, you must be hungry, and you'll need it to get your strength back."

Kytes' brows furrowed, grunting softly in his throat. "Why?"

"Why not?" she countered. "Already spent a few of my days making sure you didn't die. I'd like to think I shouldn't let all that time I spent already go to waste. Besides, might be a while before either of us see another friendly face. I wanna enjoy it while I can."

He wasn't sure what about his face was 'friendly' to her, given he had tried his hardest to be the exact opposite.

Or maybe he hadn't tried his hardest. Maybe he should drive the point home.

Karlach was already off before he could think to do anything, allegedly to go find food, he assumed. At the very least, it left him alone for a while, finally relaxing without her so close by.

Still, she wasn't long in returning, bringing with her partially cooked fish that she dangled at him by the tail fin.

"Here. Its not a whole lot, but its better than an empty stomach."

He couldn't help wondering how she'd managed to cook it so fast. She hadn't been gone long enough to build a fire. Still, he was hungry, and still tired, and for one reason or another, he indulged with cautious bites while she sat nearby and ate her own fish more confidently.

"Dunno if you've been up that far but there's a toll house up the road." She vaguely gestured up the path. "Safe place for travelers normally, but it looks like a real killing field now. Those fake Paladins of Tyr are holed up there, licking their wounds. Managed to escape them when a pack of gnolls decided to join the fray and divide up their attention."

Kytes watched her and hummed, eating tentatively.

"Nasty creatures, but they did give me a good opportunity to slip away. Wasn't enough to kill the bastards though." She tsked unhappily and shook her head, taking another ravenous bite. "Anyway, watch yourself on the road. I know they managed to kill a good few of them, but those gnolls are still out there. Hunting. If you're careful, you can probably get to Waukeen's Rest without running into any of them."

Kytes blinked at her, looking down at the ground for several beats in thought before glancing back up in question.

"Gnolls?"

She paused, scrutinizing him. "You've never heard of them before?"

He pursed his lips, shaking his head after a moment.

"Real nasty things. Look and sound like hyenas, but they stand upright on their back legs. They can easily tear most folks to shreds. Left a whole lot of gore all over the roads near here."

He thought about it more, squinting. "Wolf with spo-tt-tt----t---tss?"

"Yeah, they're something like that. Kinda look like dogs, but they're not. They're dangerous all the same though."

He shivered a bit, swallowing. He'd come across those things, and he hated them. The... hyenas? They were bad enough, but then seeing those... things burst out of them, popping them like a bloody bubble from the inside as they tore their way free...

That visage was going to haunt him for a while.

"Anyway, I'm sure you'll do fine," Karlach told him, much as it perplexed him. "I don't imagine you made it this far alone without having some skills."

He hummed, blinking slowly. He took his time nibbling away the remaining bits of the fish from the skeleton.

"These Pal'dins..." he started, grabbing her attention immediately. "An' devil. Slavers, sor'a?"

Her expression sobered, becoming more serious. "Zariel is for sure. It wasn't exactly by choice that I got conscripted into her demonic army. Those bounty hunters? Maybe not directly, but may as well be. They're more than happy to trade my life for coin." She watched him for several beats, noting how he stared off in thought. "Why? You changed your mind about helping me?"

Several beats of silence sat heavy between them, unsure. He shrugged.

"S'pose so."

Karlach grinned with a triumphant whisper. "Fuck yes."

He glanced over with more curiosity than wariness, watching her polish off the last of her fish and carelessly toss the skeleton aside, standing up.

"Let's fuck those fuckers up."

#Squidhawk #drabble #BG3 verse

[th-ramblr]

[Baldur's Gate 3] - Squidhawk #10

[Cross-posted on AO3]

Consciousness fluttered back slowly and in brief glimpses, blinking in and out of awareness, first dark nothingness, then the brightly sunlit ravine, darkness, then awareness again.

Awareness came with a haze of confusion, nausea and anxiety. Breathing in gasps and quick pants, his gaze searching blindly for nothing at all with erratic eye movements. The taste of bile was thick on his tongue, and in a moment of sharper awareness, he grimaced and coughed, choking on the taste of acid and whatever food he'd eaten earlier.

At first he couldn't get his body to move, trembling and tense, feeling detached from himself as his limbs refused to respond no matter how hard he willed it.

Finally he managed to force himself to roll from his side onto his stomach, dragging his arms beneath him and pushing himself up stiffly, gagging up chunks and some unknown slew of half-digested mystery liquid onto the dirt. His muscles ached and his heart hammered too quickly, along with his head which pounded in time with it. Strings of foul tasting drool dripped from his lips, and he tried to wipe it away on the back of his glove in disgust.

How or when exactly he'd collapsed on the ground was a mystery to him, as it usually was. He'd collapsed a lot throughout his life, but this type of collapse - when he woke up hurting and choking on his own vomit - was the absolute worst. It came with little warning, and when he came awake again, he was on the ground, exhaustion clawing into every part of his body and wanting to drag him down again.

If he was lucky, that'd be the end of it. Today he wasn't lucky, the tremors coming on again and slumping to the ground, blinking out.

When he woke once more, the sun in the sky had moved, as he groaned and dragged himself from the dirt sluggishly. His movements were unsteady; clumsy. He screwed his eyes shut as he forced himself to his feet, and almost immediately careened sidelong into the stone wall next to him.

Nausea clawed its way up his throat again, and he found himself dry heaving as he managed to stay standing only because of the support of the cliff he leaned on.

It was another several minutes before he was ready to move from where he leaned, staggering along the edge of the rapids that roared their endless chase down the rocks. His eyes fluttered, unfocused, trying to find an edge that was safe for him to approach without falling into the rushing water to be swept away.

Finally finding a dip in the narrow path where the water was a little more calm and acceptably shallow that he wasn't likely to drown himself, he collapsed onto his knees, cupping water to his lips and drinking greedily. His body didn't want to hold it down at first, heaving into the river, watching it get swept away, before choking more water down, covering his lips with a trembling fist as he resisted the urge to bring it back up.

His eyes fluttered closed, trying to steady his breathing, before he realized he wasn't the only one panting, looking up and to the side.

A red Tiefling came crashing through some of the brush clinging to the sides of the ravine, stumbling backwards with their attention set the way they had come, their entire body alight with flames that caught the bush and set it burning.

Twisting around mid-stumble to face properly forward, they yelped in surprise as they damn near tripped over him, managing to reverse direction just before they could collide and fall.

"Whoa!"

Kytes scrambled back and went to reach for his dagger, eyes alarmed, but she was quick to hold up her hands in a show of peace, backing off.

"I didn't even see you there! Didn't think any others were out here." Her shocked face twisted into a snarl, but her eyes were alight at the thought of something other than him. "Not besides those fuckers at my tail anyhow."

He didn't respond, squinting his eyes at her and taking another wary step back, swallowing thickly. Now was as bad a time as any to run into any unknowns, knowing that if he got into a scrap, he was likely to pass out again and be entirely at her mercy.

He unhappily noticed her looking him over properly, sizing him up, and a realization seemed to spark in her eyes.

"Well fuck me. Its you. From the ship. Haven't taken any bounties from a burnt Tyr dink, have you?"

His head swiveled to the side in question, not sure what she was talking about as his eyes squinted further.

"No?"

"Good. Great. Glad I don't have to kill you," her voice softened at the tail end of it.

She didn't get much further before a familiar feeling crashed into Kytes' skull, the tadpole writhing familiarly. But it was more intense than usual, not earning only a grimace, but a cry of pain as he clutched his head and tears sprung into his eyes, falling to his knees and doubling over with his forehead pressed to the dirt.

Memories that weren't his own and of places he'd never seen flashed behind his eyes, and his body which normally ran on the cold side felt overwhelming hot, burning him from the inside out. In only a moment, he realized it wasn't his body heat, it was hers, flooding into his awareness.

The surrounding mountains and forests were swept up and vanished into a dark landscape of black and red, flames and blood, and an endless chorus of roars and screams as demonic armies as far as the eye could see clashed violently, until all he could hear was the booming chorus of their battle din. And her, tearing through them as yet another number in the vast sea of fighting, cleaving, clawing, and slashing, the blood of demons awash against her skin just as much as any other swept into the fray.

The Blood War. He had seen it himself from aboard the Nautiloid as it hurtled through Avernis, but from above, barely giving the chaos below a first glance, much less a second thought. Now, all of it appeared before his eyes in far more detail, far more up close and personal, where she had been fighting on the front lines.

When the connection passed, she shook herself like a dog ridding water. "What was that?!"

But he was still curled over on himself against the ground, dragging himself up just enough that he could empty the water in his stomach, coughing.

"Hey! Are you alright?" It took him a moment to realize she was kneeling before him, her hands hovering close to his shoulders, but she never touched him.

He didn't know why.

He didn't care.

She was still too close to him, and he didn't have the strength to recoil away, hissing through his clenched teeth. She seemed not to notice it was at her.

"Easy there, soldier. You're not looking so hot. Maybe you need to lie down or something, yeah?" In spite of her suggestion, she lifted her head and looked behind her, seeming nervous - flighty - and fidgeting her fingers. "We shouldn't stay here though. Those bastards find you with me, I don't imagine they'll have a whole lot of mercy." Her lip curled back and she spat the last word like a poison.

She pushed herself up, pacing a few steps away and searching the riverside for something. Taking hold of a branch extending out from a small tree, she wrenched it free with a snap, shoving it into the water to soak it for unknown reasons before moving back towards him and lowering herself down, offering it to him.

"Here. Can try to stand yourself up on this, yeah? Give yourself a little extra support to hobble our way to safety."

He gave her a glare, but took the branch anyway, hauling himself to his feet with a good deal of effort. She grinned sharp teeth at him, either not noticing or not caring about his dirty looks.

"Good lad. Now let's get the fuck away from here, aye? Get our bearings and our heads straight again?"

Reluctantly, he used the makeshift walking stick and ravine wall to stagger his way further downriver, gracelessly stumbling over stones and skeleton parts where a bridge overhead had partially collapsed, almost falling on his face more than once. The Tiefling woman kept looking behind them the whole way, and silently fretted behind him when he stumbled, almost as though she was about to move to catch him, but she never closed distance.

The lower river path ended just after the bridge, but there was a small alcove tucked just behind the legs of it where they could take rest out of sight, Kytes all but collapsing with his back against it, panting with strain.

"Should be far enough for now," she muttered, giving a last glance down the way before she ducked into hiding in the bridge's shadow, taking a seat nearby and fixing her gaze on him with concern. "Really though, are you alright? Look like you're about to kill over."

He gave her another unfriendly look, setting the branch aside and drawing his cloak around him, much as he could, trying to stave off the cold. Somehow it felt even worse after the memory of her demonic heat had flooded into his head, or maybe he really was dying. Who could say, really?

Like it or not with a stranger nearby, he was quickly losing consciousness, slipping into darkness once again. Whatever words she harshly barked at him were lost along with his lucidity.

#Squidhawk #BG3 verse #drabble #seizures tw #epilepsy tw #vomit tw

[th-ramblr]

[Baldur's Gate 3] - Squidhawk #9

[Cross-posted on AO3]

[You decided to travel alone...]

It was the first Kytes had heard that voice again in days, his head immediately perking at attention, his eyes wandering as if he might find the strange red-haired man standing somewhere nearby. All that his eyes found were clear, sun-beaten rocks and packed, well-traveled roadways following the river.

He had gone his own way from Halsin and from the Tiefling refugees heading to Baldur's Gate, walking the roads at a steady rate, generally uninterrupted by any major threats or any more stupid goblins. At night, he'd made camp, glad for the respite from any uninvited company as he laid near the warmth of the fire.

He'd found himself watching the stars above or closing his eyes and trying to grasp for any sense of the presence in his head, finding nothing that would answer back. When sleep eventually claimed him, it was deep and dreamless, thankfully free of any bad memories come back as nightmares. Which was unusual for him, but not unwelcome.

[Did you miss me?] The voice seemed to be filled with a sense of warm amusement, maybe even the touch of a tease. What he could possibly find funny, Kytes had no idea.

"Don' miss anyone," he mumbled.

A tempered hum echoed distantly in his mind. [Of course not...]

"Where've-----been?" The fact he was speaking aloud to no one physically there didn't really strike him as odd in the moment. No one was around to hear anyway.

[I told you I was needed elsewhere,] the voice told him gently, patiently, before continuing more upbeat, yet business-like. [I was fighting my own battles. Doing my part to keep keep us safe and keep the Absolute at bay, so that you can move freely.]

He still didn't know how much of that he believed, but he had nothing to disprove it either. Not yet, anyway.

"Who're------figh-t-tt--t-t-----t-ttt-t-tt'?"

There was a pause that was a few seconds too long. Perhaps caught off guard, or maybe thinking of the right thing to say.

[I told you before, I stole the power I use to protect you from someone else. They're not terribly happy about me possessing it, so I have to fight to keep them at bay and keep control of that power. Neither of us can afford for me to lose it.]

He gave a hum in his throat. "Wha' power?"

[You're not ready to know that yet.] He frowned. [Have patience. You'll find out, eventually.]

"Why no' now?" He wasn't satisfied with all this secrecy.

[You're burning with questions. I understand. The time that I have to commune with you is limited, and it would take a long time to explain to you in a way that makes sense.] Before Kytes could get a word in about it and what the man was implying, he hastily added, [To explain to anyone. There are a great many events leading up to now that you would need to know first, and there are also a great many answers the both of us still lack. Answers which we're likely to uncover the closer we get to Moonrise Towers.]

"You sure?"

[Its the best lead we have at present, and Halsin seems to have good judgment that we can rely on.]

Kytes huffed.

[You don't trust him a great deal, any more than you do me... but trust him or not, heading there is necessity. Its a matter of survival and need, not a matter of want. But - that doesn't mean we have to settle for unpleasant company. All of us would work better together if we can do so out of more than begrudged requirement. Wouldn't you agree?]

Another, louder huff. That sure was asking a lot. He was right about some things. He didn't trust any of them. Not the man in his head; not Halsin. Certainly nobody else beyond them. He wasn't about to become their friends just because.

[I'll take that as a "no".]

"An' you?" For some reason, even though the man didn't say anything more, he got the impression he was encouraging him to continue. "You tt-t----t-t...t-ttt-----ttrr-t-t-t----t-t----t-ttt-t-t-" He huffed, giving himself a shake as the sound glitched in his throat, refusing to progress, and he felt his head twitch along with it, briefly getting stuck in the repetitive motion. The meaning seemed to catch regardless.

[That's difficult to answer... as I said, its not a matter of want. I have no choice but to put my faith in others, and hope that they come through. On a personal level? Trust is a difficult thing to extend. On that, I think we understand each other...]

He wasn't so sure about that, but he didn't argue.

[But through circumstance and difficult times, I think we'll uncover who we can trust, and who we cannot. Such is the natural course of things. I trust your ability to survive and overcome challenges thus far. For now, that has to be good enough, but I would hope before the end of things that I could come to trust you in so much more, and you in me.]

"Won' happen," Kytes muttered stubbornly, eyes idly trailing over the landscape. It was quiet, so far... he wasn't expecting it to last. The last few days had been too peaceful.

[Do you trust me so little?] He sounded a little disappointed.

"Everyone. No differen', ----the end. Only-----long as------useful."

[You've been grievously hurt by others before, I take it?] It was said tentatively.

Despite that everything about it was spoken like a question, he felt as though there was some underlying pretense, more of a statement made knowingly. He wasn't sure why or how that could be though.

[For what its worth, I'm sorry about whatever was done to you. I can scarcely imagine what would have brought you to view everyone as an enemy, even when they have the best of intentions.]

Just hearing about it from someone was enough to make him bristle, uncertain and involuntarily bitter, despite that such somber words should have probably been a comfort. They weren't.

[I won't lie to you. Our alliance right now is built off of the fact that you're useful to me, and I to you. Likely our paths won't have crossed otherwise. But all trust begins somewhere, and needs to be earned. What's more, I think the fact that yours is so hard to win makes you even more valuable, contradictory though it may sound. You've a skeptical mind, you question intentions and predict the worst,] Kytes got the impression that the other was somewhere, nodding in decided approval. [That will serve you well as you navigate closer to the source of the Absolute and encounter their forces. If I know one thing about you that I can trust for certain, its this: you won't be easily drawn in to believe in their brand of madness. That makes you a much better choice than those who would be too easily trusting.]

Kytes felt a touch of amusement flit across his thoughts that wasn't his own.

[If that makes my job of being believed and trusted by you more difficult, then so be it. Its a small price to pay, all things considered.]

Kytes hummed, finding the words and demeanor strange... but somehow reassuring, in a weird way. He wasn't sure why.

But he still had questions.

"Why me? Of anyone..." His steps slowed a bit, thinking. Was that really enough to make him any sort of worthwhile choice? He was skeptical, yes, but he also lacked the ability to speak clearly, and as such, most wouldn't trust him by default. Not with anything important. Many looked down on him, considered him not worth their time. He was still, in the eyes of many, basically an invalid. A simpleton. "No'able------spea-kk---k-k righ'... do mu-ch. No' s'rong..."

[You are plenty enough capable. Speaking is a challenge for you, but your mind is well enough in-tact.]

He blinked once, wondering how he could know that so confidently.

[We are connected by the parasite, remember? Just as others your path has crossed with that are infected. You have to think of words before you say them. In your case, your thoughts are particularly loud.] He sounds a bit amused again. [It is why you and I can converse so easily, when we connect in your dreams. There, you are speaking with your mind, not with your voice. You've noticed it already, haven't you?]

That explained quite a lot, actually, though he'd somewhat suspected already.

Another realization hit him that he hadn't consciously explored before now. So that meant that he could read his thoughts?

[See? You're catching on. We don't need spoken words to converse, you and I. And I can understand just fine what you want to say. I imagine that's a rarity for you.]

A pause. He was... right about that.

[If there is anything you want to talk about, then I'll listen. Though-] he adds in after a moment, [I cannot promise that I'll have answers for all your questions.]

Kytes hummed. Things he wanted to talk about? Suddenly, when given the opportunity and put on the spot, he wasn't sure what he wanted to say. The chance for an equal discussion had always been out of reach, no matter how hard he tried to fight against his own inability to form the proper words.

It seemed like conversation would have to wait, anyhow, becoming more alert as he heard an odd, chuckling cackle. The road ahead was soaked with blood, and much to his alarm - feeling hairs on the back of his neck prickle - the road was patrolled by what looked like a pack of unusual dogs, which he was quick to hide from by ducking behind brush and crumbling stones.

[I'll leave you to it then. I need to get back to my own battles. We'll talk again soon.]

#Squidhawk #drabble #BG3 verse