Chapter Text
My love language is creating Spotify playlists, so naturally I made one for this fic. You can find it here, or search for it using the Fic title 😊
I also have a Tumblr where I pretty much exclusively post Shadowheart content. Feel free to check it out here
That's enough with the self promo - on with the story.
Forty years. Today marked forty heart-wrenching years since Arnell and Emmeline’s daughter had been abducted by Shar’s forces on what should have been the day she came of age. Despite the anniversary and Emmeline’s waning energy, the couple ventured hand-in-hand into the woods where she was taken, as they did every day.
They lived a bucolic life still in the same little cottage in the country that their Jenevelle had grown up in. They had changed nothing over the years in the hope that one day their daughter may remember where they lived and walk through the door unannounced. The same chairs, now threadbare and in desperate need of reupholstering, still sat facing the same stone hearth. Emmeline still baked the same apple and plum pie, leaving it to cool on the same windowsill each evening. The only difference now was that it was fully allowed to cool before two slices were cut.
Over forty years, their hope still lived as strong in their hearts as it had on day one.
Today, though, something was different when they reached the clearing in the forest.
Although the clearing held horrible memories for the couple, it was a peaceful and quaint spot – filled with birdsong at night with just enough room through the trees to see the stars and spattered with life and spots of sunlight throughout the day. In honour of their daughter, the couple had placed a small idol of Selûne at the sight – today a lit candle had been placed at its feet and an open tent set up just beside it.
“Do you think it could be Jen?” Emmeline’s voice croaked with renewed hope.
“It’s been so long, my love. I doubt she would remember this spot.” He soothed, trying to be realistic despite his swelling heart.
“But it could be her.”
“It could be, yes. But we must try not to get our hopes up.”
Not wishing to invade the privacy of the tent owner, despite how tempting it was, the couple set up a blanket on the forest floor, choosing to watch the birds in the trees and animals skittering through the bushes to pass the time.
And time passed.
The wind licked through the bark of the trees, picking up the woody scent and rustling the leaves. Clouds formed and passed over their heads, constantly changing, brightening and darkening the green tint of the clearing and eventually, the candle burned itself out.
The couple were determined to stay until they found the owner of the tent but waiting proved as tense as ever.
Then finally, a new sound caused their ears to perk.
The rustling of the bushes intensified, as though a larger animal were making its way toward them. Arnell stood to attention, placing his body in between the new sound and his wife. His heart rate ever-increasing as the sound grew closer.
A half-elven woman poked her head through the bushes, a confused and tense look plastering her face as she spotted the couple in the clearing. Arnell and Emmeline sat equally confused as they took in the woman before them. The woman had sharp, angular features, with chestnut hair flowing down one side of her face, and neatly braided on the other side. A long, angry scar ran down her face from her forehead to her cheek, cutting through her full eyebrow and missing her eyelid by a hair. Silver eyes, dulled to a grey by the shadows of the trees, flicked between them.
“Good evening.” She said politely but with caution. “I see you’ve found my camp. Is there something I can help you with?”
“This is your camp?” Arnell asked, his shoulders slumping in disappointment and his hand moving to comfort Emmeline knowing she would feel the same.
“It is.” The woman confirmed, her whole body seeming to relax realising they hadn’t found her on purpose. “I’m sorry, were you expecting someone else?”
“Expecting is a strong word.” Arnell laughed sadly, “Hoping is probably more accurate. I’m sorry, please allow us to get out of your way.”
The woman stepped out of the bushes and faced the couple in her entirety, swinging the carcass of a deer over her shoulder and flopping it onto the floor. She looked tired, but deadly – adorned in a sharp, black leather armour made for speed and agility that sat tight against strong muscles, with bracers cutting off at her wrists to allow full movement of her fingers – a ranger. A hunter.
“Who were you hoping for?”
Emmeline lifted her hand to Arnell’s arm in a silent command. They had asked countless adventurers to help them over the years, ranging from brave townspeople to members of the flaming fist themselves, but none had proven successful – they had either given up after finding no clues, or they had not returned at all. Whether they had died in their attempt to find Jenevelle, or simply run off with the Hallowleaf’s money, they could never be sure.
But they refused to stop trying.
“Our daughter” Arnell stated, finding his voice as his fingers seeking to entwine with his wife’s for comfort as he prepared himself to divulge the details of her disappearance. “She was taken from this very spot forty years ago today.”
“A coming of age ceremony?” The woman asked.
“Yes… by Sharran forces.”
“I see. You were hoping she may return here?” She asked, kneeling down to rummage through her rucksack.
“Perhaps foolishly so.” Arnell confirmed, beginning to stand to help Emmeline up.
“Hope is never foolish.” The woman interjected, silver eyes catching a ray of sun and bearing into their souls. “That’s all we have in defence of Shar.”
“We?” Arnell asked, confused until the woman pulled a moonstone pendant from behind her armour. She stood slowly, extending her arm to pass him a candle, her eyes flicking to the now extinguished one at the feet of the idol.
“Please, stay, don’t let me interrupt your evening. I can easily move my camp.”
Arnell took the offered candle, twisting it in his fingers before looking up to capture the woman’s eyes once more.
“No, please, perhaps we could all stay and enjoy the evening together. I believe the moon will be bright tonight.”
The woman smiled in response, producing some firewood from her rucksack and placing it in a neat pile on the ground, ensuring to swipe any dried leaves from its vicinity.
“I’d be delighted…” She gave a questioning look.
“Arnell Hallowleaf, and this is my lovely wife Emmeline.”
“A pleasure to make you acquaintance. I’m Tav.”
“So, what brings you out here, Tav?” He asked innocently, but couldn’t mistake the way Tav’s body tensed at the question.
“I mean to reach Baldur’s Gate.” She stated, friendly enough but leaving little room for questions, keeping her eyes trained on the pile of wood as she expertly turned it into a campfire.
“Do you know the city well?” Arnell asked, renewed hope sparking in his chest. They had received little information about their daughter over the decades, but had been informed that she was likely to have been taken to the city.
“It’ll be my first time travelling there… Why do you ask?” Tav quirked her eyebrow, sensing there was more to his question than he was letting on.
“Are you a good hunter, Tav? Do your skills extend to the city as well as they do to the wilds?”
“You wish for me to find your daughter?” Tav stood now, shifting herself to skin the deer she had hunted, the young flames of the campfire illuminating her face in a warm light with the dying sun. “You’ve only just met me.”
“I know these woods.” Arnell smiled, “Hunting here is no easy feat. It takes a hunter with great skill to make such a kill.”
Tav smiled warmly at him in response.
“Besides, if you are new to the city, no one will know you. You might be able to track down our daughter if she still resides with the Sharrans.”
“You wish for me to infiltrate a Sharran cloister?” Tav’s smile turned to a concerned, breathy chuckle. “That’s… an incredibly dangerous task.”
“You need not say yes if you think it’s too much.” Emmeline assured her. “We’ve been searching for forty years, but venturing into Baldur’s Gate to find Jen ourselves would be suicide.”
“They know our faces, you see.” Arnell added. “The night Jenevelle was taken, we found a Sharran spy in our village who told us our daughter was the target. I chased after her, but I was defeated in combat trying to protect her.”
Tav smiled sadly, catching their eyes for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh.
“You seem like good parents…”
“It’s all we ever tried to be.” Arnell offered a sad smile back.
Tav paused her task, relaxing her position on the ground to look up at the couple with wistful eyes.
“Your daughter is lucky to have you searching for her after all this time... I admit, although my family are searching for me, it’s not for the same loving reasons. If I were to risk myself in such a manner, it would matter little if I made it back out.”
The couple wanted to protest – comfort the woman who had already shown them so much kindness, but how could they protest when they had only just met her? When protesting might mean their daughter remained lost.
Instead, Arnell raised himself from their blanket and took the dagger from Tav’s hand, silently continuing her work.
“Do you like apple and plum pie, Tav?” Emmeline asked, rifling through the basket they had brought with them.
“I do.” Tav smiled, graciously taking the slice offered to her and taking a moment before speaking again. “And I’m sure your daughter will, too, when I return her to you.”
Tav felt uncomfortable walking through the gates of the city, having chosen to strip herself of her expensive armour and weapons in favour of simple slim-line trousers, a cotton shirt, and armed with a hand-made dagger and bow. She had left everything but some coin and a small bag with the Hallowleafs, promising to return for them with their daughter in tow, and asking for no payment but another slice of pie.
Tav’s own equipment was expensive, bespoke, and incredibly good quality – a gift from the legacy of her father – a legacy that she despised. But it also made her stand out like a sore thumb amongst the regular citizens of Baldur’s Gate, likely drawing more attention than she wished to garner. She needed to catch the interest of the Sharrans without raising any eyebrows and much to her annoyance, walking into the city fully equipped would make her seem like more of a threat or more useful to them than she wanted. And so Tav had crafted herself a new identity, a concept that wasn’t as new to her as she would have liked – rather than the absconded heir to her father’s throne in a country thousands of miles away, or the stranger who was kind to a couple in the forest, Tav was now a poor hunter, having fallen on hard times after the death of her family, visiting the city (and its taverns) in hopes of drowning her sorrows and finding some work.
The perfect prey for Shar’s church.
Tav knew little of the woman she was looking for, her parents hadn’t seen her since she was a child but were able to show drawings of what she looked like all those decades ago. Her key features being raven hair, olive green eyes, and a scar across her face from an injury she sustained on the day she was abducted.
With a tired huff, she sidled up to the bar in the Elfsong Tavern, copper coins clinking as she placed them on the counter. In the early afternoon, it was busy enough to blend in without being missed completely.
“Ale, please.” She said, keeping her body tense and her arms crossed.
“What kind of ale?” The bartender huffed, not hiding the chip on his shoulder.
“The alcoholic kind.” She responded, letting annoyance tinge her voice.
“You need more coppers than those, mate. Five more.” He smirked, and Tav was sure she was being overcharged. Most new faces in the taverns in the lower city were either down on their luck, dock workers who had just been paid, or tourists with money to burn. He was clearly convinced she was one of the latter – she had to convince him otherwise.
“That’s daytime robbery.” She complained, letting her voice raise just enough without causing a scene.
“It is what it is, mate. Either pay up or fuck off.”
Tav eyed him over, wishing so hard that she could break character, grab him by the collar and smash his face into the counter… but that would cause too much of a scene. If she knew anything about Shar’s followers, they stuck to the shadows and valued discretion above all – causing a scene would catch their attention in all the worst ways.
So, she sighed and let her head dip into her hands, ruffling her hair before reaching into her pocket and letting two more copper pieces fall onto the counter.
“I can do two more.”
“Fine.” He said after deliberating, clearly happy with his extortion of her for the day.
“But it’ll be discounted next time.” Tav’s silver eyes pierced his own, her finger pressing his hand into the counter as he moved to take the coins. Having mastered the bow and arrow over thirty years, just one of Tav’s fingers on his knuckle was enough pressure to cause the man’s voice to strain with discomfort.
“Fine.” He said quickly, eyes moving away quickly to avoid Tav’s gaze, pulling his hand away as soon as Tav released the pressure and quickly producing a mug of ale.
Tav hid the small smirk of victory that tried to cross her face, trying to maintain the air of sadness she hoped would get her spotted. To add to the effect, she found a dark corner to plop herself in, holding her head in her hands as she nursed her warm ale.
There she waited, but acting sad became unnecessary as her thoughts drifted to home.
Korella. A beautiful, expansive, coastal land of snowy mountains and bustling pine forests, marred by the tyrannical rule of her father, King Aldan, for decades. There, Tav had taken her place as Kyra, the second child of the human king and elven queen. She had been given the name Tav by her older brother and previous heir, Ryn, on the day she was born and it had stuck with her for her entire life, giving her an identity beyond that of ‘the princess in the castle’.
Tav detested her royal blood.
Tav detested everything about her status. She detested the balls, the dresses she was forced to wear, the politics. Most of all she detested her father, but then he detested everyone in kind.
Tav’s mother had died in childbirth, turning her father from a ‘loving man’ to a ‘shell of his former self’ according to her tutors. Tav couldn’t see any version of her father who wasn’t hateful and tyrannical. Ryn would save her from being around him most days, steeling her into the wilds of Korella to give her an identity beyond the castle – training her in the ways of the Rogue and the Ranger, adding to her Fighter training received within the castle walls. She was relatively happy with the set-up, avoiding her father and running away to hunt in the forests, but the people of Korella were more than displeased with her father’s ruling. Tensions had risen enough over the years that protests turned to riots – the people eventually outnumbered her father’s guard, aiming to remove him from the throne – forcefully. They intended to crown Ryn in his place – the prince was known for his compassion and a much more popular choice than Aldan. But in a fit of jealousy, the king had run him through with a sword, killing him in the throne room of the castle, before turning his ire towards Kyra, catching her face and plunging the sword into her stomach before being cut down himself.
And so, their royal line was over – at least officially.
Tav had awoken in the midst of the chaos, placed lovingly beside the body of her brother in preparation for their burial. It was easier just to run and never look back – so she did. Everyone had assumed her body had been stolen.
She didn’t intend to prove them wrong.
“Penny for your thoughts?” A gentle voice broke Tav from her haze and her head snapped up from the sound. Before her stood a beautiful Tiefling woman with long, flowing violet locks framing the soft features of her face. She was beautiful.
“Sorry?” Tav replied, realising she had zoned out more than she had wished to and she kicked herself for potentially missing any signs of Sharrans in the tavern.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The woman smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She looked at Tav with a mixture of interest, concern and…lust? “I’m Alfira. I noticed you brooding here in the corner on your own and wondered if I might be able to buy you a drink?”
“Oh… Th-thank you, but I’m alright. I’m not sure if I’d be the best company tonight.” Tav tried to stay in character (if it was a character at all), but part of her was intrigued by the woman in front of her, and she had been on the road for so long that she ached for company. Maybe she could have one last night of fun before she plunged herself into the darkness of Shar’s embrace. Maybe succumbing to temptation would give any Sharrans watching a sense of the desperation they sought in their victims.
“You seem rather deep in thought.” Alfira mused, placing a goblet of wine down on the table and taking a seat opposite. She leaned her elbows on the table and eyed Tav with a quiet intensity, twirling a strand of hair between slender fingers.
“I suppose I am.” Tav’s eyebrows quirked, her own interest piquing as the woman seemed to completely ignore her wish to be alone… Why? Was she the Sharran Tav was hoping would approach?
“I like deep thinkers.” Alfira drawled, catching her lips between her teeth and glancing up at Tav through fluttering eyelashes. What was her game? “They make the best lovers.”
Tav took a second to regain her composure before responding – initially caught off guard and slightly panicked, but should any Sharrans be in earshot, she couldn’t let on that she was anything but calm, collected, and capable of gaining the upper hand.
“Far be it from me to prove you wrong,” Tav smirked, holding Alfira’s intense eyes with her own as she weighed up her options. As much as she would have liked to fall into bed with the woman before her, doing so might make her look weak to any on-looking Sharrans, as if she may crumble at the first temptation. She was sure she was overthinking it at this point - other than a pale elf who was very obviously a vampire on the hunt, she was yet to see anyone who looked that nefarious. “But it’s a shame I have to leave you wanting.”
The woman before her pouted in response.
“Does that mean I have to succumb to conversation to try and get into your small clothes?”
Tav couldn’t help but let out a genuine laugh at her response. If she wasn’t planning on infiltrating a Sharran cloister Alfira might have had a chance – but she wasn’t that cruel.
“I suppose it does,” Tav grinned, “But, as I said previously, I don’t think I’d be the best company tonight, so you’ll have to win me over in that respect as well, I’m afraid.”
“You’re really making me work for this, aren’t you?” Alfira flashed her a devilish smile, “Fine, what’s your poison?”
“Apple juice?” Tav asked innocently.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Alfira snorted.
“Guilty. I’ll take an ale, please. Let the guy behind the bar know you’re with me and he’ll give you a discount.”
“You mean Jendrik?” Alfira’s face dropped its look of humour in favour of one of shock. “How did you pull that off? He’s got a pole up his arse long enough to pour ale if you bent it.”
“Is that why it tasted so weird?” Tav teased, “I have my ways.”
“Well, I’m impressed.” A quirk in the Tiefling’s eyebrow showed she wasn’t lying. Tav smiled at her as she walked off, catching a flash of a figure in black turning their head quickly away from their direction.
The night passed quickly and without incident. Although Tav had been careful not to let her guard down while she sat across from Alfira, she couldn’t help but find comfort in her presence, leading her to drink more than was sensible when trying to catch the attention of Sharrans. Still, they talked long into the night, long after anyone who Tav might have suspected to be Sharran had left, and so she felt a sense of safety in being able to walk the woman home. It was only when Tav stepped into the fresh air that Tav realised just how careless he had been. The two women walked along the cobbled streets of the city, swaying gently with the alcohol in their system as if a strong breeze could cause them to topple. Tav made a concerted effort not to slur her words as she spoke, walking almost perfectly in a straight line as she placed one foot in front of the other.
Night held a solid grip over the city and cloud covered the sky like a blanket, blocking out the comfort of the moon. Tav might have felt uncomfortable, if not for the gentle glow of the streetlights and the warmth of the alcohol coursing through her system.
“This is me.” Alfira sighed as they came to a stop outside a cottage. “Thank you for walking me home.”
“Think nothing of it. I’m glad you’re back safe.” Tav smiled.
“What if I want to think something of it?” Alfira challenged, closing the gap between them. “It’s ever so kind of you to walk me home, after all. It would be unbecoming of me to send you home alone on such a dark night.”
“Trust me, I’m more than capable of making my way back to Elf Song alone. I appreciate the sentiment, though.”
“Gods, you are making me work for it.” Alfira laughed, defeated. “But I can’t send you home empty-handed at least.” Alfira moved closer still, closing any remaining distance between their bodies as she reached a soft hand up to cup Tav’s cheek, pulling her down to meet softer lips. Tav allowed herself to be swept away in the moment, closing her eyes and parting her lips to meet Alfira’s. She breathed in when their lips met, smelling the scent of berries and alcohol on her breath from the wine she had been drinking all night. Her body offered warmth against the chill against the cold of the evening, but Tav couldn’t let herself go any further. She smiled sadly as she pulled away from the kiss.
“You know, as much as you said you wouldn’t be good company tonight, I found myself enjoying every minute I spent with you. I hope we can do it again, sometime.” For all of the bravado that Alfira had shown that evening, a genuine look crossed her face. All it did was fill Tav with a sense of guilt.
“I wish it could be so,” Tav offered, not a hint of a lie in her voice, “but I don’t think I’ll be in the city long enough for that to happen.”
“Well then, it’s only a shame we couldn’t spend more time together. Goodbye, Tav.” Alfira placed a final kiss on Tav’s cheek as she turned to walk through the door of her house.
And then Tav was alone again. She huffed as she rubbed her eyes, trying to get them to focus properly on the road for her walk back, and she cursed herself for letting her guard down.
And then she wasn’t alone.
“A touching display.” A new voice – a woman’s voice called out from the darkness. Having practically grown up in the wilds, Tav’s instincts were usually razor-sharp, but she hadn’t noticed another presence in her drunken state. How long had this woman been following her? She turned around to face the origin of the voice, hand instinctively reaching for the dagger attached to her thigh.
“Oh relax. I’m not going to hurt you.” The woman laughed, stepping out of the darkness and Tav’s breath caught in her throat. Alfira was beautiful, but this woman before her was… transcendent. The first thing that struck Tav was her hair – hair as dark as the night was tied into a harsh ponytail, tied together with what appeared to be dainty silver chains. Her fringe parted in the middle, framing the high cheekbones and defined jaw that could only be the result of elven heritage. Her eyes were a piercing shade of olive green, shining in the light of the streetlamps and looking at her in almost a predatory manner. The woman’s face was marred with a faint scar that ran across her cheek and crept over her nose. Her full lips were pulled into a playful smirk, and her eyebrows arched to accentuate her expression – she appeared to be challenging Tav. Tav allowed her eyes to roam across the woman’s body, following the curve of the black top which plunged between her breasts, and appreciating the way the fabric hugged every curve. “Unless you want me to.” The woman added. Tav couldn’t help but find the woman’s features somewhat familiar, but in her drunken state, she couldn’t quite figure out why.
“I’d rather not subject myself to any more pain.” Tav stated blankly, trying not to let her voice or body language betray how fast her heart was beating.
“No. You’re doing a fine job of subjecting yourself to enough as it is.” The woman’s smirk grew.
“What do you want?” Tav stood her ground, but cursed herself when her cheeks warmed at the sight of green eyes roaming across her figure.
“Many things.” She stated plainly, raising her eyes once more to meet Tav’s. “But let’s start with that pain, shall we? What is it that burdens you?”
“Why would I tell you that?” Tav was certain this was one of the Sharrans she had been hoping to catch the attention of. She couldn’t let herself show weakness.
“Oh, please.” The woman said, stepping into Tav’s space and teasingly running a single finger down her arm, following its trail with her eyes. “I’ve been watching you all evening. I saw the way you challenged the bartender, the distant look in your eyes when you were drowning your sorrows, the way you looked at that Tiefling like a puppy. She was practically throwing herself at you, and yet you didn’t give her what she wanted. Either you’re not into women, or you don’t feel as though you deserve a night of pleasure.” The woman moved further into Tav’s personal space, lifting her lips to graze along the lobe of her ear as she whispered. “And with the way your eyes are devouring me, I’m quite confident you’re interested in women.”
Tav felt a chill run down her spine, spreading across her body and causing a wave of goosebumps to rise across her skin. With the sleeves of her shirt rolled up, her arms – and secrets – were exposed. The woman’s smirk only grew as she noticed.
“See what I mean?” She leaned back, fingering the collar of Tav’s shirt. “I can read you like a book. All you want is for a beautiful woman to notice you – to know you. Well, you have my attention now… and I can take all the pain away.”
“What’s the catch?” Tav asked, feigning ignorance, but eyeing her with a suspicion as if she wasn’t aware the woman was a Sharran.
“No catch.” The woman said with the first genuine look Tav had seen from her – she truly believed what she was selling. “Have you ever heard of the House of Grief?”
“I can’t say that I have.” Tav hummed, furrowing her brows at the woman. “What could I find there?”
“Salvation…and me.” The woman caught her bottom lip between her teeth in a teasing smirk, and Tav couldn’t help but feel intrigued. The House of Grief was where she needed to go, but finding this woman there too might be an added bonus.
“Then, I’ll be there.” Tav flashed a smirk of her own, keeping silver eyes trained on green. In her inebriated state, she thought she saw the woman’s cheeks begin to redden, but decided she must have been seeing things.
“Good.” The woman grinned, “I’ll await your presence eagerly.”
And then she was gone.
And the darkness of the night suddenly wasn’t as unsettling.
Tav stood at the threshold of the House of Grief, slightly worse for wear after her night of drinking with Alfira and her inability to sleep thanks to the mysterious woman taking up residence in her mind all night. Still, she filled her lungs with the freshness of the air that surrounded the House of Grief. It truly was a beautiful part of the city – surprisingly quiet for the lower city and placed right beside a small winding stream carrying water down to the Chionthar. It was easy to see why people came here to ease their inner turmoil. The building itself looked welcoming enough – no Sharran iconography adorned its walls like with Selûnite churches. The ivy creeping up the walls gave the building a homely feel, adding to the serenity of its surroundings. Tav could have easily found herself taking some time to relax in the garden beside the building if she wasn’t painfully aware of the building’s purpose.
“Welcome to the House of Grief. Are you here to be unburdened?” A blonde elf smiled warmly, but sadly at her as she gathered the courage to cross the threshold of the building. “Whatever ails the heart, whatever weighs upon the soul – we can help.”
“It’s a beautiful place you have here.” Tav thought out loud, admiring the homely feeling they had cultivated on the inside of the building as well as outside.
“It’s a beautiful service we offer, easing the burdens of those in pain. We unburden people of the suffering in their hearts: melancholy, anger, self-doubt, troubling memories, and of course, as the name suggests, grief. Tell me, Sister, what troubles you? Have you lost someone? Has someone done you harm? Do you seek vengeance or freedom?”
“Both, perhaps?” Tav sighed, perhaps more honestly than she would have realised, although getting revenge on a dead man was impossible, she did wish for freedom from memories of her past. If she was going to gain access to the cloister, she needed to play their game – even if that meant being more truthful than she had intended.
“In that case, I think you could benefit from our help. In fact, I think you desperately need our help. I sense… turmoil in you, even if you cannot bring yourself to admit it.”
“What makes you so certain of my desperation?” Tav asked, quirking her eyebrows and raising her guard. The change in body language did not go unnoticed by the woman.
“Forgive me, I did not intend to make you uncomfortable. A great deal of people in need have entered that door. In my time, I’ve come to recognise their suffering – I recognise the same look in your eyes.” She paused, and Tav steeled her gaze defensively. It had been over a year since the events at the castle – she knew the memories still haunted her, and the pain of losing her brother still hurt as though he had died yesterday, but could this woman really see the pain behind her eyes, or was it just a ruse, knowing that most who stepped through the door would do so out of desperation. “Admitting you have a problem is the first step – the hardest step.” The woman interrupted her thoughts, seeming to sense the questions running through Tav’s mind. “After that, we will be by your side.”
Tav had to admit it, much like the woman who had accosted her the previous night, this woman also seemed genuine – as if she truly believed what she was saying. But her lack of mentioning Shar made Tav wonder what else she was hiding.
“I’m curious to understand why you think you know so much about me?” Tav challenged, if she wanted to go undercover as a new recruit, she wanted to make them want her rather than playing hard to get. The stronger she appeared, the easier this would be.
“The insight of an unburdened spirit. I too was once weighed down, but now I am free. Before I came here, I was given to drunkenness, wanton violence and licentiousness of every sort… but now I am saved. As you can be.”
Nothing had ever sounded so unappealing to Tav in her life, and that included her father attempting to marry her off to a noble. If the previous night had shown anything, Tav was quite partial to drunkenness – and wanton violence had its place every here and there, too. Every fibre in Tav’s body screamed at her to run, Shar’s church was no orderly, benevolent religion like Selûne’s – she was walking willingly into a cult.
Tav stood in silence, looking at the woman quizzically with her arms folded across her chest. She gave away no emotion and no hint of acceptance. She only waited in the silence for the woman to grow uncomfortable and give away the next move.
“I… I cannot force you.” She began, unable to meet Tav’s intense glare for too long. “But perhaps you can look inwards and be true to yourself. You may not like what you see when you put yourself under scrutiny. But we can show you how to love yourself.”
Pathetic. They almost made it sound appealing – as if they would pick people up when they were at their lowest and nurse them back to health, as though they were doctors. But they weren’t. Shar’s church prayed on the innocent – the vulnerable, those with but the remnants of hope for a better future. The woman spoke to Tav as though she knew nothing – as though Tav hadn’t put herself under scrutiny every single day when her father showed obvious favouritism for her brother, purely because her mother had died giving birth to her. She spoke to Tav as though she hadn’t put herself under scrutiny every single day since her father had killed her brother and attempted to kill her. If she had only moved faster, struck harder… if only it had been her instead of him, Ryn would be alive – Korella would have the king they wished for. Love didn’t exist in Shar’s domain, but with Selûne as her guide, Tav would be damned if she let the last of her love die off. She loved herself as much as she was able to – she owed that much to Ryn.
“I’ve never been familiar with the concept of loving myself.” Tav smiled sadly, but seethed on the inside. Acting as though she was open to all this Sharran bullshit might be harder than she had imagined. “What do I need to do?”
The woman smiled warmly back at her. Tav felt her stomach churn.
Tav placed herself down on the stone bench in the centre of the new room. Despite having no windows, the candlelight made the room surprisingly bright – although the dark paintings hung on the walls appeared to suck in the light as it hit them. Tav could spot nothing in the room that appeared overtly Sharran, but despite the warm tones of the candles, rugs and furnishings, a cold chill hung in the air accompanied by an eerie sense that she was being watched. Her time spent in the wilds with her brother as a child had taught her to recognise the feeling of being watched by a predator, and the same prickling chill she felt when faced with a wolf ran down her spine within the room.
From the corner of her eye, a black figure appeared on the bench beside her, clad in black and gold hooded robes which parted on the curve of feminine hips to reveal pale greyish-purple skin. A Drow.
“Do not look upon me.” The figure said and Tav snapped her eyes forward in obedience. The voice was different to the one from the woman she had met last night, but held the same air of authority within it. Other than being beautiful, Tav couldn’t quite remember what she looked like. She was unsure if that was because of the alcohol or because the woman had made her heart beat so fast that her vision had blurred. Her heart beat just a little faster at the thought she might see her again. “This is your time, not mine. Look inward. See what will be discovered.”
Tav closed her eyes and steadied her breathing – now was not the time for distractions.
“You are here because something grieves you. Perhaps you know what it is. Perhaps you merely think you know. It matters not. The Mapping will reveal your heart form. Then the healing can begin. Answer the questions I put to you. And answer honestly – the lips may try to deceive, but the heart will offer the truth, in the end. Let us begin.”
Silence hung over them momentarily and Tav felt suffocated under its weight. She had to try and maintain her ruse of being a simple hunter without lying, or the woman beside her would surely know – and any chance of finding the Hallowleaf’s daughter would be lost. She was going to hate this.
“What last caused you to shed a tear?”
This was an easy start – adrenaline alone had carried her through her final moments and ‘Kyra’, leaving her so focused on survival and escape that she barely had time to think, let alone cry. Still, once she reached safety, tears still refused to fall. It was only after a month or two on the road, when she thought she might be able to start healing – to look for a new life as ‘Tav’, that tears finally found their grip. It was a good thing she found herself in the middle of nowhere at the time, or the sounds that escaped her throat that day might have made a town think a murder was occurring. Afterwards, she felt numb, and she had felt little but that numbness since.
“Grief.” She stated. A truth for both herself and the alter ago she had crafted.
“The second question. What is your unspoken desire.”
Suddenly memories flashed through her mind – piercing green eyes looking into her own with wanton desire, followed by the warm tickle of breath across her neck and honeyed words whispered in her ear.
“I can read you like a book. All you want is for a beautiful woman to notice you – to know you.”
For a moment Tav was confused – this was a memory of the woman from last night. Why was it resurfacing now?
Despite her confusion, she could use this. Tav had spent her entire life living in the shadow of her brother and haunted by the ghost of her mother. She imagined her alter ego would have had similar traumas.
“To be wanted.” A sad truth – one that hurt to admit.
“What is your greatest fear?”
This one was harder to think of – her home, her brother and her friends were lost to her. All of her fears had already come true.
“To be vulnerable.” Was all she could think of. Tav wasn’t sure if she could ever have something, or someone again and not worry about losing them.
“Question four. How would you spite someone who wronged you?”
Tav held back a bitter laugh, how could she spite a dead man? He had wronged her for her entire life, and yet she had done nothing but avoid him whenever she could, only raising a hand to strike him when he lifted a finger against her brother.
But if she could do it all again?
“I’d make it painful – slow.” She growled through bared teeth.
“And the final question. How would you feel if all your burdens were lifted?”
The concept was foreign to Tav – She had been burdened by the loss of her mother for her entire life, and now she had the additional burden of her father’s action and her brother’s death. The thought of these burdens being lifted was inconceivable – impossible. She would not be the same person without them.
“The person I am today would cease to exist… but I suppose I would be at peace.”
She answered without thinking – would this answer fit the alter ego she had crafted?
Regardless, it appeared to satisfy the woman sat beside her.
“I see.” She stated simply, taking a moment to craft a response. “You possess a melancholy heart. A smile is a stranger upon your lips. You do not know what you are missing, but you miss it, nonetheless. This is something we can help with.”
The woman moved beside her, rising off the bench to remove her hood. Tav allowed her body to follow the movement. The woman was a Drow indeed. A few wrinkles on her face gave an idea of the woman’s age, and her hair was white as snow.
“I am Viconia DeVir. The House of Grief is mine, but what lies beneath… that belongs to my mistress, and that is where you must go.”
With an explosion of indigo mist, the woman, Viconia, disappeared, and the brick wall in front of where Tav sat opened to reveal a hidden passage.
This was the moment she had been waiting for. Tav stood, taking in a shaky breath to prepare herself. With one final, silent prayer to Selûne, she stepped into the darkness.