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dragonswithjetpacks · 3 years

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Theurgist

Chapter Four: The Shadow of Anger

-dragonswithjetpacks

Summary: That surge was quickly squashed as a dark shadow swarmed her mind again. It clouded her thoughts. It struck down any empathy she might have felt. And replaced it with hate. The shadow rippled, revealing another grasp of icy fingers, bending her will to bring her to her knees with guilt. Ferelith fought it. She refused to give in to the mind meld, refused to be its thrall.

Notes: So quick note about Ferelith. She is a very prideful person. Even what some might call a know-it-all. Very eloquent and charismatic, even when she shouldn't be. Of course, it does sometimes lean in her favor. There is also a very temperamental side to Ferelith. A stubborn and dangerous one. She is selfish. Very selfish. And greedy. She will be angry until she has her way. Also, I am notorious for writing long fight scenes. So I shortened this one up so it didn’t up with another 10k words. This is mostly game retell with Ferelith’s personal feelings. And a few little fun quips in dialogue. Not my favorite chapter or my best writing.

Read here on Ao3.

One day. It had only been one sodding day. Ferelith lay on her back blinking into the purple sky as the sun rose over the horizon. She lay listening to the river, the birds, the trees swaying in the wind, the sound of shifting bodies as the others began to wake. Astarion- who had been awake with her for several hours now- remained incredibly quiet the rest of the night, much to her surprise. But he had learned quickly that Ferelith, although approachable, was not so easy to converse with. Especially after ending their last conversation as awkward as they had. She wasn’t sure how long he had been gone when he did leave the camp. She didn’t care, but she wondered if he had taken his rest at some point. After all, they would need their strength to make it through the day. She rose to her feet, stretching her arms high above her head before heading toward the water to freshen her face. It was cold, but at least it was clean. She dipped her hands into it, splashing it up onto her cheeks when the sound of footsteps over rocks were heard behind her.

“What were you two talking about?” Shadowheart asked, kneeling down to feel the water for herself.

“Who?” Ferelith asked, running her hands around her neck.

“You and our rogue companion,” she barely looked up. “I heard you two chatting last night.”

“Nothing,” she shook her head. “Just about the camp.”

“I see,” she stated, but it felt as if she were looking for something specific. “I would be careful with who you confide in.”

Ferelith flung the remaining water from her hands. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about when it comes to who I confide in.”

“Is that so?”

“It’s a very short list,” she grinned.

“Good,” she said while rising onto her feet. “Let’s just hope we rapidly find a healer.”

“Once we’ve reached the temple, we could get on higher ground. Take a look at what we should expect from the wilderness and if there’s a village nearby.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” she crossed her arms.

“It also would be wise,” another voice approached from the fire, now smoking as it had been doused, “to check the wreckage for any more supplies. We’ve about gone through any rations we’ve found. Unless anyone has a knack for hunting.”

The two woman looked to Gale first, then to each other, frowning with disappointment. All three of them looked in unison at the rogue waiting by the fire, kicking dirt as he was already impatient. He had a set of knives on his persons, but no bow. Ferelith recalled the fishermen she found at the docks. There were poles there they could use to fish, if need be. She was certain their supplies had already been ransacked. Not only by herself, but possibly by the bandits Gale had mentioned before.

“Say, Astarion,” Gale piped up as he made his way back to fire pit. “You wouldn’t happen to have any experience with hunting would you?”

Astarion’s face dropped, his eyes scanning over his comrades. “Why?”

“We’re a bit short on food. Not a lot of options to choose from here, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Oh,” he straightened himself. “Well yes, of course. I have been known to hunt. For sport.”

“Were you any good at it?” Shadowheart muttered under her breath.

“I don’t think it matters if I’m the only shot we have at killing something for food,” he sneered at her. “But if you must know, yes. I am quite good at it.”

“Then we just need to find a bow,” Ferelith concluded, crossing her arms. “And we could always grab the fishing poles from the docks when we go to search for more supplies. Let’s gather our things, then. The earlier we get started, the better.”

The party of four stood at the top of the hill looking down into the wreckage of the nautiloid. Most of the fires were out, but the coals were still hot and spitting smoke into the air. Ferelith scanned the area below, seeing broken chairs, burned steps, and a few carcasses, but nothing useful. There was a large doubt that there would be nothing worth using beneath the ash, but they would have to cross the debris, regardless. They descended into the mass of it, listening to the framework creak above them when the wind blew. It seemed just as empty and eerie as before.

“I don’t even know what to look for,” Ferelith said, kicking over burnt rubble on the ground.

“What’s that?” Gale said quietly, placing a hand on her shoulder to alert her.

Ferelith looked up, and the other two had his attention as well. They stood quietly looking further back into the destruction of the ship. Ahead, there were three villagers digging at what seemed like a large heap that had fallen from the ship. They were covered in soot and ash like they had been sorting through it for awhile. One of them was yelling, commanding the others, frantically flailing his arms as he did. The elves squinted to focus, using their better sight to get a closer look.

“Is that-?” Astarion lowered his brow.

“Shit,” Ferelith pushed past Gale, marching toward the group of villagers.

“Somethings wrong,” Shadowheart said, realizing now what they saw by the flash of it’s gray skin. “They should be trying to get away if they had any sense.”

“Ferelith,” the wizard called after her. “Ferelith, we should be careful.”

She didn’t care. The rage inside her had already swarmed. Astarion was at her heels, Shadowheart close behind. Gale trailed them, treading carefully and observing more from a distance. As Ferelith got closer, the human man was sent into a full panic. There was a large cut on his hand from where he had carelessly moved the debris. He looked up to address them as the approached, but the others continued to dig. They scratched and clawed at the heap in front of them, as if their own lives were at stake. Beneath a very large piece of the ship was a mind flayer. Too weak to move. But not too weak to control them.

“Stop it,” Ferelith reached out to touch the back of a dwarf.

“My daughter!” the human man shouted at her, causing her to step back. “She’s under there. Please!”

“That’s not your daughter,” she snapped, wrinkles forming at her nose as she growled at him. “Step aside.”

“You… monster…” the look of pure horror on his face only made her fury worse.

She looked down, the creature- the mind flayer- its hold on them was too strong. It’s yellow eyes watched Ferelith, observing what she would do as if it were a test to her own nature. Something triggered a memory from the dark streets back in Baldur’s Gate. A hand outstretched, waving as this one did now. It created a cold feeling like ice covered fingers piercing her skull. And those yellow eyes were just the same as before, menacing and fierce. It reminded her of the screams from her patron inside. That he somehow had been affected. She tightened her fists. It was the very same being that had taken her.

“You’ll die for this,” she said lowly and she knew it understood.

“She’s already dying!” the man yelled and as he did, the other two fishermen began to rise to their feet. “You… you did this. You want to kill her!”

The three of them drew their weapons. But the commoners stood no chance. A blast of energy fired from the palm of Ferelith’s already charged hands into the man’s chin, sending him backwards across the wreckage. Shadowheart swung her mace, striking down a halfling who was ready to attack, but unable to defend. And Astarion had cut his blades across the dwarf, who gurgled helplessly to the floor. Gale crossed his arms with a disappointing sigh.

“I feel like this could have gone better,” he said solemnly shaking his head.

Ferelith stepped over the mound with the mind flayer beneath, her hand out and filled with more energy for another blast. However, a convulsion inside her caused her stop. Her hand came to her chest, and she slowly turned. The mind flayer was now curling it’s fingers towards her. She could feel her mind bending, twisting, melding with those who attacked her. She felt a moment of fear, just as they did. It wanted to use that fear to force her to attack her comrades. Except, this time was nothing like the attack in the alleyway. She was better prepared. Stronger. Determined. Her mind was a fortress and she pushed back the fear with all the anger inside her.

“There is no place for you here, you wretch.”

The tone she used caused Shadowheart to look at the others. Her voice held all the ferocity of something fowl. It came from a place they did understand. And how could they? Ferelith’s mind was home to something dark. And it was now empty, leaving a vacant space that this thing was trying to fill. This space was something she made specifically for someone else. Someone sacred. To try and take it left her violated.

Whatever it was Ferelith had done, it caused the mind flayer to shrink in it’s already shriveled state. Forgetting about the human behind her, she stepped onto the piece of the platform crushing the creature. The bond was severed and she could feel the others awakening. The dwarf was gone, but the other two were still with beating hearts. There was rustling behind her, causing her to turn with a readied spell.

“Wait!” the human sat up, his hand held out with a plea of mercy. “… where are we?”

She lowered her spell, but her guard was still firm. “You’re in the middle of a crashed ship.”

“Ship? I don’t… There was fire in the sky… and then…” he looked around, seeing the blood on the ground. “Oh Gods… Sonna… what happened to my friends?”

“This,” she pointed down below her feet. “You were protecting this.”

“Gods… I think you’re right,” he looked down at his own hands. “It called out from the wreckage. Sounded just like my daughter. But… she’s been dead for years. That thing got into our heads… drove us mad. We wrecked our boat just trying to get close to it. What do we do now?”

Gale watched as her shoulders hunched forward, her chin leaning out in a way the reminded him of a curious predator. There was a hint of something else when he watched her, like a brief flicker of a shadow, something like wavering smoke through a reflection of glass. Her anger had not subsided. And she was feeding off of it with every second.

“You?” she asked, her tone dropping and her voice quiet. “We don’t even know where we are. If it wasn’t for this abomination, we wouldn’t even be here.”

“You were in this thing?” his eyes widened. “To survive that only to land in this bloody wilderness. We’re in the middle of nowhere. The gods must have it out.”

Something shifted in Ferelith’s mind. The bond between them was not entirely broken. The man had felt it too. She spotted the realization the moment his face twisted. The fear had returned, but only by his own control.

“Wait… you… I can feel you,” he started to step backward. “Just like one of those things. You’re one of them!”

“What?” the growl in her voice returned. “I tried to save you. You attacked me.”

“There’s something in your head,” he shook his slowly. “Please… we’ll take our chances out here. Just… leave us be.”

The man went to leave, but she stopped him, stepping forward as her yellow eyes pierced his gaze. He flinched, catching his footing off balance. Ferelith took advantage and stepped over him as he crouched, cowering beneath her.

“The bow,” she said, holding our her hand.

“What?” he stammered, terrified to look up at her.

“Give me the bow. Take your friend. And run.”

The human looked at the weapon clutched tightly in his hand then back to Ferelith. He cast it down, scrambling to the halfling��s side as he struggled to throw her over his shoulder. The group of them watched him half carry, half drag her out, stopping only once he was a good hundred feet away to completely lift her into his arms. Ferelith bent over, snatching the bow from the ground, and tossed it to Astarion.

“Simpletons,” he said catching it effortlessly in one hand. “The beast is half dead and they still bowed to its whims.”

Ferelith said not a word as she looked over to the dwarf’s body. A crossbow lay at his un-moving fingertips. She reached down, taking it from his dead hands and began to storm back toward the squirming mind flayer. She rounded the rubble, standing directly in front of it. She wanted to see the fear in it’s eyes. And for a moment… she did. Then, she felt the swirling wield of pity. This helpless thing was reaching out for her, pleading with the entirety of it’s thoughts. She felt compelled to come to its aid with a sudden surge of compassion.

That surge was quickly squashed as a dark shadow swarmed her mind again. It clouded her thoughts. It struck down any empathy she might have felt. And replaced it with hate. The shadow rippled, revealing another grasp of icy fingers, bending her will to bring her to her knees with guilt. Ferelith fought it. She refused to give in to the mind meld, refused to be its thrall. The harder she fought, the weaker it became. Until eventually it’s clutch loosened and she felt it slip away. It’s eyes flashed once more, an indication that if this creature could display any emotions, it would be that of bitter resentment. Her hand grasped the base of the crossbow.

“Have you used one of those before?” Shadowheart asked.

Ferelith ignored her.

“Are you sure you-” Astarion began.

The bolt released with a pull of the trigger. It violently split the mind flayer’s face in two, digging into the ground and splattering blood up Ferelith’s body. The sound of impact made the others jump, not expecting such a loud and hasty action from her petite hands. She pressed her foot down on the remainder of its skull, pulling her arrow up from the dirt and reloading the chamber. She turned to her companions, filled with awe and struck cold during her display of rage.

“You’ve… got…” Gale pointed to his face.

Ferelith lifted the back of her hand, wiping the blood on her face. Some of it came off on her glove, but most just smeared across her cheek. She looked down at the back of her hand, examining the dark blood. It brought her thoughts to the tadpole. About how it had twisted in her head the more the mind flayer pulled. It was able to connect to the creature while her mind remained free. Perhaps that was the reason why she- why they were alive. The worm may not have had the ability to connect to their minds because there was already something there, something already bound to that space. The only reasoning Ferelith would have was her patron. As for the others, she didn’t know enough to create a strong theory. It all seemed too far fetched and coincidental.

“Let’s go,” she said, walking back over to the dwarf to rip off the holster.

His body made a loud thud, causing Gale to grimace and Astarion to chuckle as they followed behind her. The three trailing behind her remained silent. And a good distance away. None of them were brave enough to address the temper they had witnessed. Or that it was completely uncalled for. Astarion, specifically, seemed restless. Although he was the furthest behind, his eyes kept wandering to the back of her head. If he could just have one more peek into her memories of the night she was taken, he could have a bit more insight on what to expect. It wouldn’t put him at any sort of ease, but it would at least prepare him for… whatever it was that he just saw.

“Ferelith,” Gale said, trotting behind her when he had held his silence for too long. “I feel like we should talk about-”

“No.”

“You don’t think we should discuss what just happened?”

“Not at all.”

“Really? Because I think you just-”

“Gale,” she turned to face him, her face finally softened. “I don’t believe now is the time. If there’s something that needs to be discussed, can we wait until we camp?”

“Of course,” he nodded, but his eyes were still filled with concern. “I just need to know if you’re alright.”

Ferelith lowered her brow in confusion, her eyes shooting down with the understanding that this was the first time her comrades had witnessed her true nature. They had seen the shadow. Which only meant that if they could see it, must have meant her patron had returned. The voice still had not made itself known, however. And his presence was just a faint blip in the corner of her head. But something had drawn him out. The same thing that had drawn him to her. The rage. How typical.

“I’m fine,” she smiled at the thought. “Honestly, I’m sorry. I must have gotten carried away.”

Her eyes looked back over the others looking for the reactions but found they were all generally uninterested. It was quite the relief and surprise, as most who caught the first glimpse of her in that state would question her stability. It seemed her silence of the matter was welcomed.

“It’s quite alright,” Shadowheart shrugged. “If you weren’t going to do it, I was. I’m just glad you were capable.”

“And you’ve managed to secure not one, but two long ranged weapons,” Astarion pointed out from the back. “With an impressive display of intimidation.”

“Yes,” Gale tilted his shoulder upward. “That was quite the show. A lot of pent up anger, I’d say.”

“Well, it didn’t take much,” her eyes shifted. “It could be from a lack of food this morning. I’d like to get to that temple and see what sort of luxurious these bandits have been living in.”

“Do you think they’ll have wine?” the wizard jested beside her.

“Gods, I hope so.”

Ferelith, Shadowheart, and Gale sat against a large boulder, their backs pressed firmly against it. They glanced at one another, unable to speak lest they alarm their targets. Words were shared between facial expressions, however, and if there was anything they currently agreed upon, it was that they were tired of waiting. They had wasted enough time back at the wreckage and they wanted to at least scout the temple before nightfall. Astarion was not hastening their progress, however. And the moment he reappeared to bring them news, they all looked at him in frustration.

“Well?” Shadowheart lowered her brow.

“Two tieflings have someone captured,” he said, glancing over the rock in their direction.

“Do they look like bandits?” Ferelith questioned.

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” her brow lowered as well.

Astarion turned his head to the two scowling women. “They looked like tieflings.”

Ferelith rolled her eyes at his sarcasm. “For complete wilderness we seem to be running into a lot of people.”

“The crash must have brought them all out,” Gale suggested.

“We can either go on, see what they’re about, or go back and around. Maybe there’s another way?” she looked to the cleric.

“Not a chance. We’ll push through here.”

“I agree,” Gale nodded. “Let’s go.”

The four of them lifted onto their feet, pacing around the rock and onto the trail in front of the clearing. It was a small ravine covered in rocks, a natural bridge hanging above them. Wrapped around it was a solid rope with a cage dangling from it, a clever and sturdy trap if they had ever seen one. Contained within it was a woman with yellowish green skin, adorned in gleaming silver armor and brandishing a frown of disgust. Her arms were crossed as she awaited her fate. And as Ferelith looked upon her, she recognized the woman as the very same from the ship.

“The thing’s dangerous,” one of the tieflings pleaded. “Leave it for the goblins to kill.”

“And if it escapes?” the other argued. “How will you- oh! We gave guests, it seems.”

“We’re just passing-” Gale began to speak to them as they grew near, but Ferelith became distracted by the pounding cold wave in her head.

She looked up, meeting the gaze of the gith in the cage. Her stare was focused as if she were sending shards of thoughts straight into her brain.

“You again... Get rid of them.”

Ferelith gave a slight wink to her the gith woman without realizing she had no inclination of what the gesture meant. She turned back to the tieflings, indulging in the conversation they were having with Gale. He began to describe their journey from the ship and how they had been stranded in the wild. They began to mention an encampment, somewhere there would be more supplies. But the woman was growing impatient. And Ferelith could feel her poking to get back into her head.

“Is this one of the gith that was attacking the ship?” Ferelith inquired, glancing back up to her former companion.

“We’re… we’re not sure,” they glanced at one another. “We were sent out to investigate that blast. And we found her here.”

“There might be more of them. And I’ve seen what they can do,” her fingers began to twitch as she began to consider a spell, but dropped them when it was not needed. “They’re fierce fighters. What do you intend to do with her?”

“We can’t seem to agree on that,” the male said, his eyes glancing up to his current problem.

“You could leave it to us,” Ferelith motioned to their party. “I believe we could handle her. We’ve fought through the ship to survive, after all.”

The woman rolled her eyes from above. Ferelith could still feel her intense stare, growing with intensity the longer the conversation went on.

“Are you sure?”the male tiefling lowered his brow.

“No,” Ferelith shook her head with a slight chuckle. “But I’m afraid we stand a better chance than two of you.”

The tieflings had a moment of hesitation, looking at one another. There was a sigh as there clearly was no correct course of action. Either the gith had to die or they had to leave it. Something about leaving the matter in strange hands was far more appealing than making the decision themselves.

“She’s right,” he finally said with a nod to his companion. “Let’s go.”

“Be careful out here. There’s goblin traps everywhere,” the tiefling woman said. “Perhaps we’ll see you back at camp.”

As they walked away, they both gave one final glance over their shoulder. Like two very suspicious individuals, Gale and Ferelith waved until they disappeared beyond the other side of the ravine.

“Is there a reason we’re dismissing the tieflings to deal with a githyanki?” Gale asked, leaning toward her as soon as they were out of ear shot.

“She helped me on the ship,” Ferelith replied quietly. “We wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“What do you mean?” he looked at her curiously.

“We fought on the bridge together.”

“You were the one that sent us through the portal?”

“Yes. I. Am,” she nodded proudly.

“Impressive.”

“Thank you.”

“Let’s get her down then,” he stated nonchalantly.

They made their way over to the cage, looking up. Though the engineering put into the contraption was impressive, the make of it was still rather crude. It would be easy to take it down.

“Enough gawking,” she narrowed her eyes. “Get me down.”

“Say please,” Ferelith grinned.

The gith stepped away from the bars that surrounded her, crossing her arms with a spiteful gaze. “Never.”

Ferelith turned to the other members of her party, two of them humored by her sarcasm while Gale stared like a chiding parent. The warlock shrugged, taking the crossbow from her holster and carelessly aiming it upward. With barely a glance, she fired the bolt and down came the bottom of the trap. The gith woman tumbled out, catching herself on one knee as she slammed onto the earth.

“The tadpole hasn’t yet scrambled your senses,” she grumbled, rising to her feet. “Auspicious. But the longer we wait, the more it consumes. My people posses the cure for this infection. I must find a creche. You will join me.”

“Lies,” Shadowheart spat, coming forward without waiting for a response from anyone else. “Just get rid of her.”

“Hold on,” Ferelith held out her hand. “I didn’t kill Astarion when he tried to stab me, so I’m certainly not killing anyone for simply just existing.”

“He what?” Gale turned to glare at the rogue.

“Let’s not dwell on the past,” he said quietly while quickly shaking his head with a robust frown.

“I think we should consider this as an option,” she continued over their squabble. “What little options we have. Lae’zel, what is a creche?”

“It is many things: a hatchery, a training ground, a shelter. Githyanki protocol is clear: when infected with ghaik tadpole, we must report to a caretaker for purification.”

“I don’t trust her,” Shadowheart stated. “We’ve already got information on the camp the tieflings mentioned.”

“This camp,” the gith straightened herself. “That is where this Zorru is. He has seen my kin. We will go.”

“Then we can all go together.” Ferelith interrupted.

“A questioning compromise, but I accept,” she pressed her shoulders back with an observing eye. “You have made an ally from Creche K’lir. Few know such fortune. Call me Lae’zel.”

“Fool,” Shadowheart interrupted before Ferelith could speak. “No point in showing a mad dog kindness – it’ll still bite you in the end.”

“You’ve a sharp tongue, elf. Would that your mind prove its equal.”

“Half elf. I suppose the finer details are lost on a creature like you.”

“Right,” Ferelith sighed, her eyes gliding across the ground wondering what exactly she had done to deserve the cruel fate she was handed. “Now that we’re all acquainted… I believe now would be a great time to re-establish a better plan of action.”

“We’ll be here all night,” Gale mumbled to her, leaning forward in an attempt to intervene.

“Then perhaps… we should just head back to camp. And we can find supplies… and that wine… in the morning.”

#astarion #astarion x mc #medium burn #angst #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x ferelith #ferelith #ferelith moonshade #ferelith writing tag #dwjp writing tag #this one is about anger folks

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