Chaos

by Guashjam (Quide)

Summary:

Foxi was a sorceress. She wasn't going to save the world, nor was she trying to get out of her comfort zone.
Or maybe she was just convincing herself of that.
Foxi was reckless, a little crazy, and chaos suited its mistress perfectly, drawing her into the story, making her rush off and head towards the abyss that was rapidly approaching.
And Gayle simply admired the chaos, not falling in love with the sorceress in the slightest, preferring the company of Mystra in his head.

Notes:

The idea was born accidentally, and nothing at all remains of the original concept. A bunch of subplots and character stories appeared, and I don't even know how everything that is happening will end :)

Chapter 1: First meeting

Foxí was strolling along the Sword Coast in search of herbs. Or so she convinced herself. And not because a huge nautiloid, exuding a strange power, had crashed nearby. No, of course, she wasn't interested in why mind flayers were falling from the sky on such a wonderful sunny day.

The girl snorted, climbing a hill, ignoring deadly nightshade flowers and almost stepping on a rogue's morsel. She couldn't even remember where she'd put the basket with the herbs she was gathering.

Or pretending to gather.

Tucking the edge of her long skirt under her belt, Foxi stubbornly walked through the thick bushes, thanking Chaos she'd thought to wear good boots. It had rained during the night, making the ground loose and the stones slippery. The girl wasn't worried that someone might see her in such an improper state. To her credit, only her legs and hips were visible. The rest was hidden by the folds of her layered skirt. And the linen shirt, stained with flower juice, was practically like that of a monastery priestess.

Finally reaching the summit, Foxi let out a heavy sigh and hid behind the stones, watching from a distance the burning ship and several interesting characters who were acting as if nothing had happened, even though they had climbed out of the wreckage.

A Priestess of Shar and a follower of Lolth.

Foxi almost laughed, giving a wide smile that showed her sharp fangs. She was curious to watch. To see unusual things. And everything about the alliance of two completely opposite maidens was unusual. Especially their mental connection, which Foxi could sense from afar, but couldn't understand what lay behind it.

When the strangers disappeared from view, the girl was about to descend the hill to follow them, but she was distracted by the cracking sound of a rune stone.

The portal was opening with difficulty, tearing the very fabric of reality apart, and looked unstable. It contracted and unfurled like a flower.

Passing through one like this was dangerous; it could kill, collapse, and no one would ever find the body of the person who crossed.

Cries were heard from the other side of the portal. A man, obviously, was calling for help, not even hoping that anyone would hear him.

But he was lucky.

The will of Chaos or the goddess Mystra – it was unknown. But Foxi happened to be nearby and was magically gifted enough to stabilize the portal with a slight wave of her hand and pull the careless wizard out of the dangerous trap.

"Oh, thank you, I didn't expect that kind of behavior from this…" the man got up from the ground, dusting himself off, glancing discontentedly at the rune circle.

"The goddess didn't bless you with magic?" Foxi scratched her chin, not trying to hide her contentious nature.

The wizard finally looked at his savior. She was a short girl with long silvery hair, grey eyes, and a snarl. She definitely had something of the drow in her, at least the small fangs that looked quite frightening when she smiled.

And the character. Yes, he hadn't been wrong when he thought the girl was quite the beast.

"But she blessed me with good manners," he shrugged, not intending to react to the sarcasm; after all, he still owed her for his rescue.

Foxi rolled her eyes.

And remembered that her skirt was still tucked up.

Pursing her lips, the girl adjusted the hateful garment and pretended she was too hot. That's why her cheeks were flushed. Not because she was embarrassed.

"You're not a healer, by chance?" he innocently examined the girl from head to toe, noting that she looked like a wild woman.

"Do I look like one?" Foxi raised an eyebrow.

"I'd say you look like the illegitimate daughter of a goblin, but unfortunately, that would negate any possibility of further acquaintance," the wizard didn't let that slight pass; years of confinement in a tower had completely blunted his social skills.

"And yet, you said it," she wasn't offended and didn't even do anything that any other girl in such a situation would do.

"Alright, I'm sorry, it just slipped out," the wizard cleared his throat awkwardly. "Did you see anyone on the shore? Anyone strange, perhaps?"

"Two girls, a drow and a priestess of Shar," she narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out what was wrong with the wizard, apart from everything else.

And then realization struck her. The mental thread – it connected not only the two strangers but this wizard as well, faint, thin as a crust of spring ice.

Along with curiosity, chaos awoke in Foxi. It ran like an electric current through her body, spitting small sparks from her skin. Her grey eyes flashed like a storm for a moment. She could smell ozone.

"Are you from the nautiloid?"

"Yes," he eyed the girl warily.

"Let's go, I know where the ones you're looking for are."

The girl darted down the cliff so quickly that the mage barely managed to keep up with her, not wanting to lose sight. She was too nimble, too strange, and her magic weaving was tainted by something primordial. The man couldn't figure out what it was. It would take time, preferably touch and scanning, but the stranger was unlikely to allow herself to be analyzed.

They arrived just in time, exactly when the Emerald Grove gates were attacked by goblins, and a group of strange companions was trying to kill them.

Foxi dodged a flying fireball, shouting that they had come to help the Grove. The girl didn't much like using magic because of certain side effects caused by the chaos within her, but having no choice, she had to throw quite a few lightning bolts, praying to Chaos himself to sleep a little longer than usual.

When the goblins were dealt with, the wizard ran up to the drow with a pleased smile and started asking her about the "tadpole." Foxi listened intently, subtly positioning herself nearby. This was an undeniable advantage of her "roots." Drow were always secretive, and although she wasn't full-blooded, she still possessed a few tricks to divert attention from herself.

The truth that emerged wasn't terrifying. Especially since none of them had yet turned into an illithid, which meant something was stopping the ceremorphosis.

"You don't have a tadpole," the priestess stated, looking closely atFoxi's face, trying to find something in it.

"No," she shrugged.

"And why do you want to come with us?"

"I'm dreadfully curious, and adventures are... scarce in the forest," Foxi shrugged, as she liked to do when stating things obvious to her.

Through a simple vote, in which only Lae'zel voted against the sorceress. The githyanki didn't trust strangers, especially if the strangers were eccentric, weird, and persistently tried to worm their way into the "infected" group. But Tav, as the drow was called, decided that help wouldn't hurt, especially from someone who knew the local forest well.

Foxi was satisfied with how things were unfolding. She could finally escape the tiresome life of a forest herbalist and see something more interesting than an owlbear.

In the Grove, the girl immediately went to look for her old acquaintance, the druid Halsin, who might be able to tell her something about the tadpole.

But instead of answers, she met the tearful gnome Nettie, holding a blue bird. And while Tav was resolving issues with druidic injustice towards the tieflings, Foxi listened to the healer's confused explanations of how bravely Halsin had gone to the goblins to find out what was going on.

But the man hadn't returned for three days, which suggested the most unpleasant possibilities.

"We need to go to the goblin camp," Foxi approached the drow, treating her as the most reasonable person in their company.

"Zevlor is also asking for help with the goblins," the girl scratched her chin.

"If my opinion counts here, then I'm against it. We should be saving ourselves, not a bunch of those... tieflings," the blond man, with his bow slung over his shoulder, almost spat out the name of the local race.

In his scarlet eyes, pale skin, and elaborate clothes, Foxi saw more than just a simple elf, but she wasn't going to mention it. It wasn't her secret, and she didn't care about others'.

"No one asked you," Tav grimaced; she didn't like it when someone contradicted her. Especially when it was a man.

"Fine!" Astarion exclaimed indignantly, and headed toward the nearest merchant to look for a new bow.

Foxi's stomach rumbled unpleasantly. She hadn't eaten for two days, absorbed by the events, and now her body was making itself known. It would have been fine, but the unbearable wizard was nearby again. Now she knew his name – Gale.

And Foxi wished she had walked past his magical trap, leaving him in the rune circle.

"Should I catch you some mice?" Gale asked casually.

"Why?" The girl frowned.

"Well, foxes like mice, don't they?"

"Ha ha, very funny," the sorceress rolled her eyes. "My name is Foxí."

"Almost the same thing," the man shrugged, smiling smugly.

In truth, Gale hadn't intended to make fun of her; such behavior was fundamentally strange to him. After all, his upbringing in an aristocratic family, his relationship with a goddess, and the life of a gallant mage were evident. But right now, looking at the silver of her hair, the man thought that Foxi resembled a snow fox – just as cunning, resourceful, and beautiful. And the joke, coupled with their first conversation, just slipped out. And he couldn't stop himself.

"I'm sorry," the man awkwardly clasped his hands behind his back.

"Forget it," the sorceress walked past him, heading for the tiefling area, from where the delicious smell of vegetable stew drifted.

She wasn't going to be offended by the silly wizard, but his words stung a little. Even if Foxi was used to sharp remarks, these pricked more than usual.

The chaos inside the sorceress boiled up, making the hairs on her body stand on end. Magic flowed over her skin as if someone had poured a mix of different colors over the girl.

In just a moment, hundreds of sparks flew off her body. No one else might have noticed this.

But Gale was standing behind her.

And he saw Foxi transform into a real star-studded sky.

Chaos. She was pure chaos.

In his distant childhood, Gale envied sorcerers. They were born with a gift, marked by gods or by chaos, and could do things ordinary people couldn't, without the need for proper effort. He himself had studied for decades and continued to learn, soaking up knowledge like a sponge.

After his acquaintance with the Weave and the goddess Mystra, he realized that sorcerers were limited in their possibilities. They couldn't learn more than their innate gift allowed; they couldn't draw power from the threads of the Weave the way wizards do.

And yet, looking at the chaos within Foxi, he once again envied not being able to experience the world as sorcerers did.

He could touch the Weave, try to dissolve into it, visit the Outer Planes where the gods might reside, but everything else was inaccessible to him.

The world was much deeper than what Gale knew.

And this depressed him.

Foxi was already standing next to Auntie Ethel, well aware of her "other side." But if you want to live in the forest, you need to know how to make friends, even if those friends might rip your eyes out with their claws.

"My, how you've grown!" the auntie exclaimed sweetly, stirring the concoction in the cauldron.

Luckily for Foxi, it was genuinely stew, not poison.

"Come on, we saw each other a few weeks ago," the sorceress waved her hand. "How are the kids doing?"

"Well, thanks to your prayers; a granddaughter showed up recently, so thin, and – wonder of wonders – pregnant!" Ethel clapped her hands, marveling at her luck. "She just can't seem to get enough to eat."

"Be careful not to overfeed her," Foxi chuckled, shaking her head. "Speaking of food, might there be a portion for me?"

"Of course, my girl!" The auntie poured the stew into a deep bowl and handed it to the sorceress.

"Thank you," she nodded gratefully, accepting the food. "Maybe I'll stop by in a few days; I need to restock my supplies."

"Just don't bring your new friends with you," for a moment, a shadow crossed Ethel's face. "I really don't like them."

"I'll try," Foxi assured her, before leaving.

Foxi's mother was a drow, and her father was a high elf. And, as it turned out, neither side cared about her. Even more, her relatives condemned them, and under the pressure of condemnation, her parents also split up, forgetting about their child as if she were a plague.

That's when the girl had to learn to survive. This is how she ended up on the Sword Coast, where she immediately found herself in the house of the local hag. She was already thirteen then, and Foxi was not suitable for the role of the new hag, but she was perfect as a tasty dinner on the day of praising the dark goddess Cegilune.

It was then that wild magic saved the girl, unveiling the hag's secrets, showing that the cottage was not for tea parties, the beautiful garden was a regular swamp, and the apples were poisoned.

At first, Foxi was scared, but she trusted her chaos and acted as it prompted her to.

More than inflicting torment, hags love magical artifacts. And Foxi knew how to cast simple enchantments on any object. Thus, an alliance was formed. The hag did not interfere with the sorceress's affairs, only occasionally helping in special cases. And the sorceress, in turn, periodically passed on artifacts she considered junk to Ethel.

As for the moral side of the issue, Foxi believed that every creature had a right to life, as long as her own was safe. And how those creatures feed and reproduce was not her concern.

The Emerald Grove druid, Halsin, agreed with her on this. He was unlike a typical elf. Too tall, solidly built, and even in his elven form, he resembled a bear.

Foxi loved sitting with him in the druid circle, listening to stories, and learning the druidic skills of healing and herbalism. They philosophized a lot, could stay up all night arguing about something silly, and Halsin was very important to Foxi.

His absence gave rise to various emotions that the girl didn't want to interpret, and she just chased away the hollow ache, believing that the Father Tree would not abandon its most devoted son.

"Hey, hi!" The sorceress's peace was disturbed by a one-eyed swordsman with charming braids in his hair. "You helped fight off the goblins, right!"

"I did," the girl nodded affirmatively, not understanding what he wanted from her.

"And you showed yourself to be an excellent warrior!" the dark-skinned man nodded his head enthusiastically.

"Yeah...?" Foxi raised her eyebrows.

"And maybe I can hope you'll help me?" The man smiled radiantly, showing off his straight white teeth.

Foxi snorted.

"Why would I do that?"

"Oh, imagine! We'll kill a devil, and ballads will be composed about us!"

"I don't suffer from altruism; I have enough problems of my own," the girl scratched her chin, considering the stranger's offer. "But for money, I'm ready to play the role of holy retribution."

The dark-skinned man faltered, his enthusiasm surged, and his smile dimmed.

"That's not the answer I was expecting, but I can offer three hundred gold coins."

"It's a deal!"

Foxi jumped to her feet, sensing the scent of easy profit. Not that she often had to fight devils, but right now, her instinct told her that everything would go as smoothly as possible. And her instinct was good.

"I am Wyll, the Blade of Frontiers," the man said proudly, extending his hand for a handshake.

"And I'm Foxi... er... Magical Hands of the Sword Coast?" she squinted thoughtfully.

The man's hand trembled.

"You haven't heard of me?"

"It's not just a silly nickname?"

Wyll lowered his hand and pressed his lips together.

"We meet by the gate in an hour."

Foxi nodded. Due to fatigue, the girl said too many stupid things. And her conscience, which could have stopped it, slept soundly. Therefore, without any moralizing from her subconscious, the girl wandered toward the gates to sit in silence and avoid arguing with anyone. In one day, there was too much attention on her small person. And she wasn't used to it.

The sorceress had long stopped thinking about others.

No one thought about her.

Chapter 2: Request

Notes:

Enjoy reading and thanks for the likes. This is very sweet and nice ❤️

“She’s a Tiefling.”

“I’m a Tiefling.” 

“Zariel’s arse!”

The Sorceress and the Tiefling simultaneously looked at Wyll, who was skeptically examining the red-skinned warrior. The meaning of what was said finally dawned on him, after which the man mumbled something unintelligible and sheathed his blade.

“Are you sure you remember the mission?” Foxi surveyed her new companion with sympathy. 

“I was ordered to kill the dangerous devil Karlach, who escaped from Avernus.” 

“Is that a direct quote?” The sorceress narrowed her eyes. 

“Do you expect me to remember everything verbatim?” 

“You could have at least written things like that down,” the girl shrugged. “And are you really burning, or is that magic?” The Tiefling interested the sorceress more than her hapless teammate. 

“Real fire!” The woman thumped her chest, producing a distinctive metallic sound. “I have an infernal engine instead of a heart. It burns like hell, so you better not come near if you don’t want to get scorched.” 

“Cool,” the admiration in Foxi’s eyes blazed no less brightly than the infernal engine.

Striking up a conversation with the target of the failed assassination, Foxi learned how Karlach ended up here. She also escaped from the Nautiloid ship, which made the woman a potential aid in the matter of saving the grove and the first druid. Tav certainly wouldn't refuse to take a raging fury in the form of a fire-blazing Tiefling into their ranks.

In addition, Karlach told them about the assassins sent by the devil, who were hiding at the old customs house, not far from them. Burning with the sincerest feelings for the Tiefling, Foxi agreed to go and enact vengeance.

“But you asked me for money for the work,” Wyll grumbled discontentedly, having agreed to their escapade. 

“You don't have an infernal killing machine inside you,” Foxi smiled.

When the enemies were dealt with, and the long day made itself known with a throbbing headache, Foxi led her new companions to the camp near the Emerald Grove, where Tav and the others had stopped.

Just as the sorceress thought, the Drow was not opposed to the new fellow travelers and looked quite pleased, which seemed strange. Typically, denizens of the Underdark are unsociable, embittered, and suspicious of strangers. But Tav breaks all molds. She helps her neighbors, welcomes outsiders, and wields a two-handed club quite effectively instead of a delicate elven bow.

Mentally, the girl praised the unspoken leader for the camp's location. A coastline was nearby, where Foxi retreated, unwilling to be in the general hubbub.

She gave herself a mental checkmark for managing to bring the other survivors from the Nautiloid, dealing with the bad guys, behaving decently, and not blowing anything up with chaos magic even once.

While the last point was cheering, it was also alarming. Foxi knew that the longer the power built up inside, the stronger the recoil would be. Therefore, her sleeping spot was located further away from the main camp, closer to the water.

The sound of the sea calmed her thoughts. Foxi sat on the shore, took off her boots, and buried her feet in the sand. The water tickled her toes, relieving the fatigue of the past day. The last rays of sun skimmed across her skin, offering a faint warmth. Foxi breathed deeply, listening to everything around her. Not even the slightest rustle would escape her notice.

The beat of a swallow’s wing flying over the waves. 

The chirping of crickets hidden in the flowers. 

The crackle of the campfire, spitting sparks into the sky.

The sorceress seemed to dissolve into the air, becoming one with the world. She felt eternity.

Something deeper than the Weave. 

Something further than the Chaos.

Everything around ceased to exist the moment she peered behind the veil, towards the side of wildness, of untamed nature, where matter itself boiled, erasing boundaries. Foxi was being sucked into a whirlpool of events. It was palpable, squeezing her body, stretching and twisting it, not allowing her to break free.

Gale ignored the sorceress's presence as much as he could. He glanced at her when she arrived with the two newcomers. He turned away, pretending that the contents of his shoulder bag were much more interesting than the untamed chaos that followed the half-breed closely.

He read a dozen pages of a book but couldn't understand what he was reading at all. His thoughts wandered around, making him nervous and unsure of what he even wanted from the sorceress.

The orb in his chest throbbed traitorously. He needed to find at least one artifact, but Gale didn't want to approach Tav. He had known the Drow for too little time and didn't trust her enough.

Yet, at the same time, a brilliant idea occurred to him – to find Foxi and ask her. For some reason, the strain of distrust did not pulse when recalling the half-breed, whom he had known for exactly as long as Tav.

The shoreline was hidden behind young deciduous trees and thickets of blackthorn. But the thorns did not deter the wizard. A slight wave of his hand and the bushes parted, opening a path to Foxi.

The girl sat cross-legged and still. Her face was serene yet focused. Her back was straight. The wind gently stirred her hair. Foxi looked like a beautiful statue.

And then, Gale looked at the sea.

A massive funnel swirled behind the girl, swallowing everything on the water's surface. The currents were pulled to the bottom, growing stronger and stronger.

Silent.

Deadly.

“Is that what Wild Magic is?” he asked, walking up to Foxi, knowing she would hear him

“What?” Foxi opened her eyes, followed the man's gaze, and her mouth rounded in surprise.

She understood that a lot of chaos had built up, but she hadn’t expected such an effect.

“Good thing I chose a place far away,” the sorceress said with a nervous laugh.

Dispelling the aftermath of the surge was necessary and incredibly difficult. This specific part of her gift never obeyed her and acted like a capricious child.

Foxi bit her lip, spread her arms wide, searching for the threads of chaos feeding the vortex, grabbed them, and pulled, trying to tear them apart.

A genuine hurricane rose in her chest, as if the girl had transferred the whirlpool into her heart. It became hard to breathe, her palms burned, and blood streamed from her nose.

Usually, the sorceress would simply wait for the chaos to subside on its own, but now, she couldn't allow anyone to get hurt.

“Are you alright?” Gale was concerned.

“Perfectly fine,” she wiped the blood with a handkerchief and lifted her head. “Why did you come?”

The man was flustered; he had completely forgotten the primary reason for his appearance on this shore. After what he had witnessed, asking the half-breed about magical artifacts felt somewhat awkward. And yet, the orb relentlessly pressed on his lungs, squeezed his heart, and pulled on his ribs, trying to break through.

“Do you have a minute for a serious talk?” He sat down beside her, signaling his resolute intention.

“Go on,” Foxi waved her hand; she had nothing else to do before sleep anyway.

“Well, I have a small magical problem, similar to yours,” he nodded vaguely, looking out at the sea. “Well, maybe slightly worse. I’m kind of a living time bomb,” he laughed nervously, feeling like a silly child.

Foxi looked at the wizard with interest. Thankfully, the bleeding had stopped, allowing her to observe the full range of emotions on Gale’s face. She had already sensed faint emanations of magic from him, which she hadn't felt or seen before. She had initially blamed it on fatigue and the chaos, but it turned out the issue truly lay with the man.

“And?”

“In my chest… an orb that demands to be fed by the Weave. I have to consume all sorts of magical items that temporarily appease this ravenous monster.”

“And you came to me with this?”

“I thought…” He faltered. What did he think, exactly? “Well, maybe you have some useless magical ring, necklace, or other junk?”

Gale looked at her with such a serious face, full of pain and awkwardness, that the girl couldn't help but laugh. Truly, fate kept crossing her path with those who desperately loved magical artifacts. And she was excellent at creating them.

The man frowned at her reaction, feeling as if a bucket of slops had been dumped on him. He realized that going to this crazy fox for help had been foolish and was about to leave with dignity.

But the girl pulled a small silver ring out of her travel bag's pocket – it was absolutely plain. She closed her eyes, trying to find the source of the Weave, grabbed a few threads – the simplest, without frills – and wove them into the silver so deftly that Gale almost lost his ability to speak.

“Here, I can’t do it often, but I think this will be enough to subdue your monster,” she smiled, handing him the ring.

“Thank you,” Gale said with an exhale, accepting the artifact so precious to him.

“But, a favor for a favor,” her joyful expression suddenly furrowed. “You wizards are always sitting in your books and know everything about everything. Help me find a way to make the chaos less wild.”

“You’re asking the impossible,” he chuckled.

“Out of all possible places, the Nautiloid crashed right here. Out of all the inhabitants of the Sword Coast, I saved you. I think the impossible has lowered its standards a little and become quite real,” Foxi shrugged, her gray eyes glinting in the starlight.

Gale hadn't even noticed the sun had dipped below the horizon; he was too engrossed in the events unfolding.

“Deal. I’ll try to look for a way.”

“Thank you, Gale of Waterdeep,” Foxi said with a chuckle, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Don’t mention it yet, fox,” he smiled, not even realizing he had called her a fox again.

And the sorceress didn’t take offense.

He wasn’t the first to compare her to a small, weak animal.