The Search for Soul in Everything

Chapter 19

The morning came swiftly as the birds started singing. Vanora laid awake, thoughts of the abuse Cazador would spread over her world haunted her dreams. She decided sleep wasn't best for her now. The dark auras, the blood, the screams. The pain. It was too much for her mind. All she wanted was peace, but it seemed the fear followed her everywhere.

Astarion, who hadn't slept much either, had watched her toss and turn all night long. He could only imagine the horrors she'd faced everytime sleep welcomed her in. Every moment she was resting was a trap. A scrunched up face told the stories of terrible pain and intense fear. Every time she jolted awake he was there, rubbing her shoulder. Even when he tried his best, he didn't know how to make it better.

The tarp was draped in an orange flow, wrapped in the bitter cold of morning. Drops of dew slipped from the makeshift tents, running rivers down the side into the grass. The two, close together in a thick silence, watched the tarp above them as the birds called out.

Astarion sighed calmly as he stared at the dew drops above him. "This morning is nice." He commented, his hands locked over his chest.

Vanora nodded, taking a moment for the silence to slip back to them. She took a small, shaky breath. "What are we going to do?"

Astarion sucked in a breath. He wasn't ready for the question to hit him so soon. "I... I'm not sure. But we're going to figure everything out, I promise you, darling."

Vanora nodded, wincing as she did her best to sit up. "I'm gonna go find some water. There must be a river somewhere."

"Alright." Astarion sighed, closing his eyes as the tarp flipped open. "I'll be here."

Vanora smiled back at him, taking in his face for a moment. She closed the tarp, trekking carefully through the grass so she didn't wake anyone else.

She moved toward the cattle, looking around for a moment. "There you are." She said, walking over to the horse that had been responsible for her horn. "I knew Wyll was too nice to leave you... I should've just taken you in the first place." She grabbed a bridle, slipping it into the stallion's mouth. She laughed to herself. "Guess I was too disoriented to think."

Once the reins were over the horse's neck, she jumped up on his back. She sighed, looking over at the tarp where Astarion laid. The morning started becoming brighter, and the tarp glistened from the water droplets. Tears brimmed her eyes for a moment. "I'm so sorry." She kicked the horse.

Astarion laid in silence for a while, a bad feeling sitting in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to check, but he knew he couldn't just be her shadow. He hated the thought, but everyone deserves their freedom.

A thundering came over the hills into his ears. The sound shot anxiety into his heart, remembering the thundering of hooves that had taken her. His eyes shot open as he jumped up, ripping the tarp out of the way to see the horse.

A white stallion thundered right past the tent, Vanora sitting on top of the creature. A face of determination was written across her face. His eyes widened for a moment. "Vanora!?"

She looked back for a moment. Astarion's worried face stained her memory. She was hoping her last memory would be of him lying peacefully in that tent, but instead it's of him calling after her. Guilt flowed through her veins, and she closed her eyes tight so she could look ahead. She didn't stop, even when she heard him calling her name.

She thundered through the brush, looking straight ahead. She didn't stop until she saw the edge of Baldur's Gate, the sun sinking down from the sky.

As she opened the doors wide, he looked over in disgust. Then, his face turned to delight, handing a goblet over to someone to his side. The bellowing laughter echoed through the chambers. "Alright, who was it? Who found her? You're in for a blessing today!"

Nobody responded. Vanora stared up at him with her head high, not a single emotion on her face. Fear rippled through her body as she heard him laugh, heard him shout out into the halls of the dusty, dark building. She took her final steps toward him, firmly planting her feet beneath her.

Cazador looked around, furrowing his eyebrows for a moment. He looked at the tiefling in curiosity. He flashed a cold smile, his sharp teeth striking chills down the tieflings spine. "Vanora, my sweet. Who brought you back to me?"

"I did, sir." She kept her words short, a low level that rattled her ribs so she wouldn't shiver in front of him.

"Oh. Well, my word is my word." He looked down at her, a sneer written across his mouth. "Even if you don't deserve it. What would you like, my sweet?"

"Freedom, for one person of my choosing, sir. To be put in place anytime I like. Please." Vanora asked him, a slight hope shining in her eyes.

He sighed, putting his thumb and his pointer finger over his eyes. "Alright, alright. Anyone of your choosing." He smiled, clapping his hands as a sinister smile crossed his face. "Now, about your punishment. Would you like knives, or fire my sweet?"

Vanora sighed, looking down at her feet. "Thank you, sir. Knives, sir."