The Search for Soul in Everything

Chapter 21

Vanora looked at the ring. She'd wrapped it in a cloth so she wouldn't touch it. She didn't know what would happen. Wyll walked next to her, behind Astarion. He looked down at the ring in her hand, wrapped in a cloth just thick enough not to touch her skin. "Don't you want it?"

Vanora sighed, watching as the little shadow dinged around the ruby. She wrapped the ring tight, shoving it into her pocket. She shrugged her shoulders, wrapping her arms around herself to protect her arms from the cold.

Wyll smiled sadly, hating how silent she'd become. Her skin looked as angry as it was red. Blood stained to her skin like clothing, cracked and dry. There were cuts on not only her back, but her arms, stomach, face. He was glad she wasn't dying, but how much blood can the girl lose? He couldn't imagine how hurt she had been before, that she doesn't flinch at every step she takes. "Alright. If you insist on waiting I can respect that. Let's find an inn to stay at until we find our footing."

Vanora nodded, looking back at Astarion. He had his arms wrapped himself, carefully watching his feet as the ground moved beneath him. She sighed, looking down at her own feet. Wyll, who realized he wouldn't get another word from the girl, decided to walk ahead, catching up with the pale elf.

Clouds rolled in above them. The rains started to fall, each droplet stinging the torn flesh of her body. She still didn't wear a shirt, even when Wyll suggested she do. Now she wished that she'd put it on. Tears slipped down her face as they trekked the empty streets. She didn't cry because of the pain, she cried for a loss.

Astarion sighed as Wyll caught up to him. He looked sadly at the elf. "You know, I don't think she used anything against you. What would she have gained?"

"I don't know, a guard? A pawn? I could've played right into her hands and I can never be sure if I did." Astarion's voice was low, so the girl wouldn't hear them. He kept looking at his feet, frustration digging deep into him.

"What do you love about her?" Wyll asked him carefully.

Astarion sighed. He didn't really want to play this game. "Her voice."

Wyll rolled his eyes. "Other than that. Come on, humor me for a moment."

Astarion thought for a moment, his tangled mind forming one thought after the other. "I... I love how kind she is, but also how harsh she can be. I love that she's afraid, but hates showing it. I love her ambition, her determination, her resilience. I love that she was willing to sacrifice herself for me." Astarion's words rolled in a perfect flow, steady and strong. He sighed, looking back at her for a moment. "I love that she never asks for help, that she wants to be independent. I also hate that part... and I love to see her smile." He huffed a laugh, looking back to the ground. "She looks so innocent when she smiles. Like she's never seen tragedy."

Wyll hummed. "That's a lot more than her voice, don't you think? She didn't need her voice to show you those things." He said, looking around the area before he sighed. "She isn't speaking now. Completely silent."

Astarion shook his head. "Maybe it's for the best." He sneered, quickly kicking a rock down the path.

As the two chatted to themselves, Vanora had an idea. She quickly caught up to the pair, standing firmly in front of them. She turned to face the two, holding something to her side.

Astarion was surprised to see her so boldly stop them, just to grab his hand and shove a cloth into it. He inspected it for a moment, confusion wrapping around his face. "A dirty cloth."

Wyll looked at the item in his hand. "Her ring is in there," he whispered.

Astarion looked down at the cloth again, his eyes widening. He tried to shove it back at her, but she took a quick step back. Her stare tore into him like daggers, ripping away his barriers that he'd tried so desperately to start building up again. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I don't want this."

She didn't step forward to take it. Instead, she turned around and started walking off again. Her head lowered once more, the rain washing away the dry blood to show how infected the wounds were. Astarion looked at her worriedly.

Wyll chuckled, looking at the elf as he watched the teifling walk away from him, from her own soul. "See? She doesn't need her voice to show you herself."

Astarion looked at Wyll as he started walking forward too, head held high as if he knew something. The elf sighed, pocketing the ring before he followed behind.