The Search for Soul in Everything

Chapter 14

When Astarion woke up, his whole body had been shaking. Wyll furiously shook him awake, calling out his name. "Astarion, wake up damn it!"

Astarion groaned, smacking the man's hand away. "Don't touch me." He said, lifting himself up off the hardwood.

Wyll's face cringed, remembering the first words the tiefling laying next to Astarion ever spoke to the man. He shook the thought away. "Astarion, she drank his blood."

Astarion frozen for a moment. "Huh?" He asked, his voice low and groggy. He wasn't fully getting what the problem was. "Who's?"

"The guy that kidnapped her? She killed him by drinking his blood."

"So?" He asked, rubbing his eyes. He didn't want to talk about this right now. His dreams were flooded with terrible visions of possible futures. He shook the thoughts away.

"Won't spawn blood make her sick?" He asked, his tone obviously very annoyed.

Astarion froze, finally realizing the situation. "Show me."

Astarion was silent, looking around the area. Puddles of dried blood littered around, tainting the ground in red. The ropes around the tree looked thick, blood on them too. The sled she had been carried away with was chipped and beaten, much worse than when he'd seen it before. Not only that, but this was far from their previous camp. The man must have ran the girl for miles, bumping on all sorts of rocks and ramming into trees. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't more worried than he had been before.

Astarion's blood ran cold as he looked down at a dead man, blood splattered everywhere around the tent. "Shit."

Wyll looked over at him. "So we know why she's sick. How do we help her?"

Astarion swallowed. "We don't."

"What do you mean we don't? There has to be something." Wyll asked, turning fully to face the pale elf. He was just going to give up? Just like that.

The elf shook his head. "She'll either turn into a spawn, or she'll die. There's nothing we can do."

Wyll looked at him, his breath begging for words that never came. "Oh," was all that he could manage.

They headed back to the caravan, Astarion heading back to his place by her side. He felt as if all hope was lost. He'd never known a siren, he doesn't know how the bloods will mix. He doesn't know if she's strong enough to overcome the sickness. If she'll even want to. And if she does survive, even if that ring is taken from him, Cavador could own her. Forever.