“My mother was from this grove, I think. The Emerald Grove.”
“Oh?” Ophelia turned to them, a delicate pink eyebrow raised.
“Well, one of them. She never told us why she left, but I think I understand now.” Tav’s gaze settled on Kagha’s turned back. “Safety is as much of an illusion as separation from nature is and she would have never let that one go if she had talked about my other mother that way.”
“You don’t seem inclined to let her go, either,” Ophelia pointed out.
“One of my earliest memories is my older sister consoling me after she told me I wouldn’t ever grow a tail. When she had my niece, I rubbed horn balm into her nubs when they were growing every night so she and my brother-in-law could get a full night’s rest.” Their fists clenched at their sides. “So yes, I’d relish five minutes alone with her, but I’m not going to let her put this all on you. There’s too much at stake.”
Her expression was unreadable, but softer. “We should discuss this further, but not here.”
“Agreed. A healer is still our first priority.”
Nettie’s revelations were not the cure they hoped for. Death had always been an option, as Lae’zel had made abundantly clear, but to have it framed as their only option was unnerving. They trudged out of the cavern through the stone doors, one vial of wyvern venom heavier.
“Well.” Astarion broke the silence. “I suppose we all saw this coming, didn’t we?”
“I had rather hoped there would be a more straightforward path to a cure. Such magic eludes me, but if Halsin is half the druid the others have made him out to be, we may yet have a chance.” Gale turned to Ophelia, his brown eyes hopeful but resigned. “I don’t suppose that you would have any insights you’d be willing to share? Anything you saw that we were missing?”
Ophelia shook her head. “I’m afraid not. Nettie had no reason to lie to us and Kagha had no interest in it.” Her mouth twisted in a grimace. “That paints us as clear a path forward as any.”
“We would have to deal with the goblins either way,” Tav pointed out. “Between them and the gnolls, there’s no safe path to Baldur’s Gate for anyone here as long as they patrol the roads.”
“Yes, but surely not all of them.” Astarion again, insistent. “We could pick them off as we go.”
“With that many archers and not knowing the lay of the land?” Tav shook their head. “They’d make short work of you, Astarion. You’d be the fanciest pincushion they’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“We’ve no shortage of enemies,” Gale said, ignoring his flustered grumbling. “That’s for certain.”
“Is the forest here anything like the High Moors, Ophelia?” Tav kept pace with her easily as they wandered through the grove and out onto the path to the forest, the others trailing behind them.
“In some ways, yes. No hill giants or dragons we need to avoid, though, as far as I’m aware. I haven’t seen any signs of sphinxes yet, but I’m hesitant to rule them out. Cliffs are their preferred nesting grounds and I doubt they would suffer gnolls intruding upon their territory.”
“I’ve only ever seen them in books, though I take it we should hope it stays that way.”
“Indeed.” Ophelia drew closer, lowering her voice. “Did your mother ever come back? Is there anything you might be able to tell us?”
“I wish.” Tav’s gaze softened. “She would take us out to the woods a tenday or two away from the outskirts of Wyrm’s Crossing every summer to teach us how to survive alone in nature. It was close, she said, but not the same. I’d like to think that she left something behind - wait.” They pointed to the nearby cliffside. “D’you see that scaffolding? Must be an old Harper cache.”
“Worth checking for supplies.” Ophelia darted forward and shimmied up the ladder, Tav following close behind. She cast a glance over her shoulder and down at Gale and Astarion, who had just reached the bottom of the cliff. “Thank you both for standing guard. We’ll be down in a moment.”
“No trouble at all,” Gale panted, leaning on his staff for support. He wiped a thin sheen of sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. “The spirit is willing, but the knees could use a moment to rest.” Astarion gave her a stiff nod in lieu of reply, scanning the road nearby for threats.
Calling what they had stumbled upon a Harper cache turned out to be far too generous. The remains of a campfire and two skeletons greeted the two of them when they went to formally examine it. “Well.” Ophelia sighed, the weight of the day bearing down on her. “At least we can salvage the bedroll and the pack. Do you think it would be worth taking a closer look at the rest?”
“No. Not really. If it’s just bones, we should – hang on.” A tarnished silver necklace glinted in the sunlight. Tav searched for a trap that wasn’t there, then gently removed it from the skeleton’s grasp. “There’s a Shield charm attached to this necklace. Could be useful in a fight.”
“You should keep it. It might have been your mother’s.” Ophelia slung the supply pack over her shoulder, tucking the bedroll underneath one arm.
“Might not have been. She wasn’t a Harper.” Tav squinted, shielding their eyes from the midafternoon sun. “I suppose I can’t ask, with her back in the Gate. She’s not the chatty type.”
“My father seldom spoke of his past as an adventurer. Any story he shared was a gift.” Ophelia fiddled with a stray thread at the hem of her sleeve, her gaze downcast. “I was supposed to meet him in Rivington before I was kidnapped.”
“I’m so sorry.” Tav laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I haven’t seen my family in the better part of a decade and a half, and not by choice. I was a day away from Wyrm’s Crossing when they snatched me.” They took a deep breath. “A terrible burden for us to bear, being almost home.”
A sweaty embrace between two desperate people under the blistering sun in the middle of nowhere at the end of the world. Madness, and yet, strangely comforting all the same. “Gods,” Ophelia huffed after a moment against the side of Tav’s head. “I would kill for a bath right now.”
Tav laughed, brittle but bright. “I’ll trip the others for you if they try to get in your way.”
“Are you two snogging up there?!” Astarion’s righteous indignation from the bottom of the ladder was a cudgel to their composure as much as it was a surprise. The dam broke, a flood of helpless giggling cascading directly down onto him as they leaned against each other for support.
“Private party~,” Tav sang with a smug grin.“Sorry, Astarion. You’re not invited. Better luck next time.” Ophelia clutched her chest with one hand, desperately trying to regain control of herself.
Astarion scowled, gesturing angrily to the pair. “Do you see this, Gale?!”
“I can see that we’ve all had a very long day and any moment of solace or joy we find in one another is a treasure to be shared.” His dark brown eyes twinkled with hidden mirth. “Wherever we may find it.”
“Gods,” Astarion groaned, massaging his temples. “If you all die, I’m looting your corpses.”
“That’s fair.” Tav led the way down the ladder, Ophelia following close behind. When they reached the bottom, they tossed him a set of thieves’ tools, much to his surprise. “Just do me a favor– leave my knickers on after you’re done picking my pockets. You can have my boots, but I’d rather not be left to rot on the side of the road with no clothes on, if it’s all the same to you.”
His haughty mien lost just the slightest hint of frost when he tucked them away. “No promises.”
Silence was a welcome change of pace, though the forest around them was anything but. Between the birds, the insects, the frogs, and the river, they were surrounded by a veritable cacophony of sound and sensation. A cool breeze rustled the foliage around them. Only Tav seemed to notice Ophelia dropping back behind Gale and Astarion to walk in step with them. Only they saw her growing ever more watchful as they ventured further on into the forest, following the river’s path to the northwest.
“We’re being stalked by a predator,” she said in a low, grave voice. “Listen. The birds go silent when we come near.”
Tav listened. “What should we do?” They replied in an undertone, unsheathing their swords.
“Be ready.” Ophelia adjusted her grip on her staff. “I’ll transform when we reach a clearing–”
Gale’s startled shout sent the birds fluttering out of the trees. Ophelia darted forward, catching him before he could fall. “Oh,” he stammered as he held her gaze, finding his balance and moving away. “Terribly sorry. I seem to have stumbled over something blocking our path.”
“Tch.” Astarion lowered his bow. “All that fuss over carrion. Just watch where you step.”
“Curious.” Ophelia knelt beside the boar, examining the body. “Scavengers have left it untouched and most predators would have eaten the body by now. Something drained it entirely of blood.”
“Did us a favor.” Tav also knelt beside her after stowing away their swords, unsheathing a hunting knife. “Now we have dinner sorted.”
“What are you doing?” Astarion bristled. “That’s disgusting. We should leave it and move on.”
“Waste not, want not.” Tav rolled it over onto its back. “If it’s fresh and already bloodless, that’s a blessing in disguise. Bleeding it would take ages. Gale, do you know how to field dress a boar?”
“No.” He peered over their shoulder. “Where did you learn to do that?”
“Bard college.” Tav offered him the knife, handle first. “Would you like to learn?”
“I can’t say I’ve ever heard of one that would teach the finer points of butchery.” He accepted it and squatted beside them. “Though I consider myself to be a perpetual student of the world.”
“One of my instructors was renowned for the murder ballads she composed.” The boar between them, he followed the line Tav drew with the knife and slit the carcass from the center of its back legs to the throat. “It’s easier to write what you know when you’ve had a taste of what could come close. Now, slice diagonally down towards the neck while I hold the stomach skin up.”
“I don’t believe that for a second.” Astarion scoffed. “You clearly can’t leave well enough alone.”
“You seem more upset than usual.” Ophelia turned to him. “Do you recognize these strange marks, Astarion?”
“I- '' He hesitated, red eyes flicking to the others. Gale and Tav were chattering happily about the possibilities of berry glazed roasted boar for dinner and debating the merits of frying potatoes they had scavenged from the wagons in the fat versus forgoing the roast and cooking up a hearty stew. “It’s been drained of blood with wounds in its neck. It’s been killed by a vampire.”
“That is a serious threat.” Ophelia frowned. “Vampires are outside my area of expertise.”
“I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to worry you. They are ferocious creatures.”
“What precautions should we be taking other than our usual wards?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep watch tonight. We won’t have to worry about nocturnal visitors.”
“Well, if the vampire is taking requests, a deer would be quite nice.” Tav dusted off their trousers, the boar now hanging from a spare quarterstaff between them and Gale. “Let’s get this back to camp and over the fire. No shortage of mouths to feed and this should help us stretch our supplies that much further.”
Ophelia didn’t miss the look Astarion shot them before he strode to the front. “Let’s move on.”
She reached for the ring in the morning before she remembered it was gone.
A self-soothing gesture, a protective instinct that had long occupied a part of her mind that she had never even considered until today. If Ophelia concentrated, she could feel its phantom weight wrapped around her finger, a lingering shadow formed in its absence.
Did her father wait for her still? What would she tell him, if she even managed to make it out of this alive? She hugged herself, tail curling over and around her shoulders. No. She couldn’t bear to think like that. There was so much at stake and the others needed her to be at her best, even though she did not bear the burden of leadership alone. Calm, composed, grounded. Stoic, but not uncaring. Fierce, but not overzealous. The druid that her aunt was, in her mind. She hummed her morning prayers to Chauntea, eyes closed as she slowly unfurled. It made the motions of her morning routine more bearable and by the time she emerged outside, she was close to finding an equilibrium again.
“Good morning.” Gale placed a plate with a bowl on it in front of her when she approached the campfire. “I took the liberty of making you breakfast first. Not that I would ever play favorites, but I thought that after everything last night, you deserved… well.” The silence hung thick in the air between them. “I wanted to try to make it up to you.”
She co*cked her head to one side, pink strands of hair framing her face. “I gave you my father’s ring freely, Gale.”
“You did. Nevertheless, I wanted to test the first batch of boar bacon and the early bird gets the worm, so to speak.” He gestured to the plate and bowl again. “Not the best I’ve ever made, but oatmeal is quite forgiving. A swirl of berry jam from last night’s roast did wonders for it, too.”
Never, not once in her life did Ophelia ever imagine that a simple spoonful of oatmeal could almost bring her to tears. She savored the warmth on her tongue, driving away the chill morning air. Gale watched her anxiously, hovering over the second batch of bacon. When she smiled, the sunrise illuminated her from behind, her hair a neon pink halo. “Mm. It’s perfect, Gale. Thank you.”
“Oh, thank the gods.” His shoulders slumped and he flashed Ophelia a relieved grin. “It’s not quite up to my usual standards, but I can assure you that it can only improve from here. A sprinkle of cinnamon, a touch of honey. I could even experiment with a more savory approach if that would be to everyone’s taste. I’ve always found cooking for someone else to be very intimate, if I’m honest.”
“Food does have a way of bringing people together.” She had devoured the boar bacon and made it halfway through her bowl of oatmeal without even trying. “I needed this today. I didn’t realize how much holding the front line took out of me.”
“Anything I can do to ease your many burdens.” Gale cleared his throat. “I can’t help but feel that you and I could–” He was interrupted by a commotion across camp that scared the flock of sparrows warbling loudly in the background out of the trees. “What’s going on over there?”
Wyll, Shadowheart, and Lae’zel stood in front of Astarion’s tent, weapons drawn. Tav blocked their path, angled protectively in front of him. The man himself looked a far cry from the arrogant rogue who had made the mistake of holding Tav at knifepoint two days ago and paid the price. Still, he remained unarmed and nodded politely to Gale and Ophelia as they came into earshot.
“Listen. I’m fine. He’s fine. We’re fine. This is…” Tav paused and took a deep breath, gathering themself. “None of this is ideal. But beggars can’t be choosers and between the goblins and the gnolls, we need all the help we can get.”
“He went after you!” Wyll insisted. “He could have left you for dead!”
“And fair play to him! I would’ve gone after me, too, after the jokes I made.” They grimaced. “Not my best work. If I had known he was starved half to death, I would have never said anything.”
“How do we know you’re not enthralled?” Shadowheart stepped forward with a confident smirk, eyes raking over the handkerchief pressed to the side of their neck. “Subject to his every wicked whim.”
Tav lunged forward. Astarion stumbled back with a surprised grunt, just shy of the impending headbutt aimed his way. “What the hell was that for?” He yelped, glaring daggers at his betrayer.
“Couldn’t have done that if I was enthralled, now, could I?” Tav spun on their heels to face her and swung their arms open. “Check and mate. Now if you two will stop badgering him, we–”
“What’s going on?” Ophelia demanded, putting herself between Tav and Wyll.
“Astarion’s a vampire,” Wyll declared, glad to have an audience. “And apparently, he can’t keep his fangs to himself.”
“Bruv,” Tav exhaled, hands on their hips. “Let the man get a word in edgewise. It’s his condition.”
He crossed his arms. “He bit you last night.”
“Consensually!”
“He drank your blood,” Shadowheart replied drily.
“Consensually, as I’ve told you lot five bleeding times this morning! ” Tav sighed. “Not that any of you have listened. For f*ck’s sake, don’t I get to say my piece as the one who was actually bitten?” They turned back to Astarion, apologetic. “Not that I’m trying to make this about me.”
“You could have made your point without trying to headbutt me,” Astarion groused, then regarded Ophelia with unfiltered trepidation. His usual mask of cavalier insouciance had vanished, nowhere to be seen. “But their impassioned defense is more than I deserve. This was not how I would have chosen to broach the subject of my true nature with all of you. I understand that this may come as a terrible shock.”
She hummed, her eyes lighting up in recognition. “ You were the predator in the forest.”
He blinked, utterly bewildered. “I’m sorry?”
“Yesterday. The birds fell silent when we approached. They gave you away before the boar did.” The weight that eased from her shoulders surprised her as much as it did everyone else. “I thought we were being stalked the whole time. My preferred wild shape form has been suppressed by the tadpole and while I can make do without it, it’s been quite stressful.”
“Too right. I’ll hold the line, but I don’t enjoy being bait without a safety net.” Tav, quick on the draw as ever. “We need another warrior in this party.” Lae’zel drew herself up, ready to cut in. Their irritated golden gaze flicked to her. “A warrior who won’t throw a tantrum because we wouldn't let her be mean to a refugee who barely survived an attack from her kin, Lae’zel.” They ignored her disgusted noise. “And even then, we’ll still need help. I trust him. He won’t hurt us.”
“Will you hunt for us, Astarion?” Ophelia asked with a knowing look. “Outside of battle. I couldn’t help but overhear that you had promised Tav a deer in exchange for feeding on them earlier.”
“I did.” He squared his shoulders. “And I will continue to provide game as a condition of our arrangement. No one else will receive any late night visits and they set the pace going forward.”
Ophelia nodded. “Then I see no reason not to take either of you at your word.”
“Fine,” Wyll grumbled. “As long as he keeps his fangs off our necks. And no wisecracks about having us for dinner.”
Astarion brightened, alight with purpose. “There now. We’re all friends again.”
“I, for one, intend to respect the decision that was made.” Gale offered Tav a steaming plate. “For our generous and unexpected blood donor. The rest of you can come with me for fresh boar bacon.” He inclined his head to Ophelia, then set off back towards the campfire. Astarion retreated to his tent, giving the two leaders one last grateful glance before he ducked inside.
Tav inhaled the boar bacon on their way to Ophelia’s tent. “Bless that man,” they declared between bites of oatmeal, carefully settling onto the nearby cushions. “I had a healing potion and a snack after Astarion left last night, but I did not enjoy waking up this morning.”
“Are you truly all right?” Ophelia asked, taking a closer look at the wound on their neck.
“Nothing a lesser restoration can’t cure.” Tav shrugged. “He could have gone back on his word at any time last night. If he wanted me dead, I’d be dead. Simple as that. He’s a spawn, so he can’t turn anyone and the tadpole has suppressed his weaknesses along with his healing factor.” They set the bowl down, uncharacteristically grim. “The things he’s told me about his master…I think this is the freest he’s ever been in two centuries. We’re facing unfathomable horrors as we learn more. He knows them intimately and isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty.”
“About that.” Ophelia clicked her tongue softly, her brows furrowed. “Astarion isn’t our only companion with an unusual appetite. Gale has a condition that requires magic items to treat.”
“Yeah?” Tav raised an eyebrow. “What else could he tell you?”
“Very little.” She shuddered at the memory. “He was in such pain that he could barely stand. He held it against his heart and his chest…absorbed it. Like a stone sinking to the bottom of a well.”
“What, like it just–” Tav mimed the gesture. “Just like that? And it helped him?”
“The difference was night and day.” Ohelia pursed her lips. “He said he would tell me in time. I think he will.”
Tav nodded, setting down their bowl. “I trust you. At least we know now that we can handle it and if worst comes to worst, we can target the goblin casters and give him their weapons. Now could I trouble you for a lesser restoration? I’ll add that spell into my rotation for the future.”
“I would be honored to heal my co-leader.” Ophelia smiled, hands raised. Her magic flowed up and through the air, forming a glowing blue halo around Tav’s head and settling on their temples. “There. Did we establish whether Astarion would be feeding on our foes or not?”
“If you’re fine with it, I’m fine with it. We should be able to fight with all weapons at our disposal.” The color had returned to Tav’s cheeks. “Besides, biting someone in a fight is a great distraction. Everyone has a plan until you bite them. Hang on.” They caught Ophelia’s hand. “Your ring is gone.”
“It’s fine.” Automatic, polished. A response that sounded fake, even to her. “I’ll be fine.”
“Was it your father’s?” Ophelia pressed her lips together in reply. Tav clucked, unfastening the clasp of the Harper necklace that rested at the back of their neck. “You should have told me. I’d have given you this to give to Gale.”
“There was no time.” She inhaled a shaky breath. “And it could be your mother’s. I can’t take that from you.”
“Then borrow it,” Tav huffed, suddenly in her face. “I have more than one and my other mother was the Harper of the two. Consider it a loan, if you’d like, or a gift from a friend if you’re ready for that. I’m not facing down the possibility of a tomorrow without you in it, Ophelia. Now, sit still.”
The silver was surprisingly warm on her skin, like the touch of a loved one. Tav sat back on their heels, satisfied. Ophelia swallowed hard, reaching for their hands to squeeze them. “Thank you, Tav. I will cherish this gift from a friend.” She smiled through the tears at the corners of her eyes.
They squeezed back. “There’s one last thing you should know. I’ll tell the others in time, if we get there.” A shy but genuine smile. The first real one they gave her. “My friends call me Kat.”
