As the Ash Settles

Chapter Eighteen: It's all Gore and Games.

Shadowheart had left Gale's home in search of someone who could extend or teach her Gentle Repose without the need for a scroll. Gale, locked in his library searching for any accounts of those who had out done an ArchFey's deal. Scratch and Robin barely left the foot of Citrine's bed, whimpering over their fallen friend. Then there was Astarion, he refused to leave Citrine's bed, threats of violence if Shadowheart and Gale did not find some way to fix what had happened. The two tried as best as they could to find an answer, something, anything. Astarion's middle finger was bloodied from the attempts to rip off the ring when he wasn't recounting every moment the two had spent together into an ear that would not hear his words. On the eighth night a cleric of Selune, recasted the ritual buying them more time.

It was on that night that Astarion left Citrine's side, the fear of the coins falling had kept him there, she looked peaceful as if she was just in a calm meditation. Astarion left the house without saying a word, Gale and Shadowheart did not dare to question him. There was murder in his eyes and they had seen it before and dared not to get in the way.

He scoured the streets looking for any trace of Elminster and when he finally found him thanks to a rather weak-willed bard whose fingers were now twisted the wrong direction. The House of Wonder, Astarion did not knock at the large doors, he bore through them yelling for Elminster. It did not take long for him to grant Astarion an audience.

"Take me back to Neverwinter." it was a demand.

"And what do you plan on doing there? Do you plan on persuading Hyrsam to go back on his barging? Or is it the threat of his own life? You Astarion, are no match for an ArchFey little of us are." Elminster was stern but there was a hint of compassion in his voice.

"Take me back." his voice was deep, guttural. Elminster dawned the helm once more, taking the two back the the forest. Astarion did not flinch at the travel anger pushed back any other feeling. They arrived at the edge once more.

"Astarion, if you do anything rash and something should happen what would your lover think if Gale and Shadowheart do indeed find a way to bring her back?"

"That is none of your concern wizard. I will be back." Astarion left into the forest, his feet knowing every turn to take him back to the meadow. Sure enough, a familiar scene was to be seen.

Hyrsam and his dancers, joyfully celebrating. "Back comes the vampire spawn is it to try to strike a bargain or has he come for my head?" Hyrsam's laugh was devilish, he was amused and did not hide it. Astarion with purpose walked directly to the satyr.

"Take it back." his desperation could not be hidden.

"Take back the death of a blood-tainted being? I think not." Hyrsam was all smiles.

"Take it back, or I shall have your head. Yours, your pretty little dancers, I will set the Feywild ablaze. Bring her back to me!" Hyrsam's eyes darkened.

"HOW DARE YOU THREATEN ME? The elf made her choice, now I suggest you do what she feared most. LEAVE." Hyrsam pushed himself from the table, striding to Astarion inches from his face. "That is what you were planning to do anyways, leave the little elf all alone for centuries to come." A twisted smile climbed his face. "She would have died anyways be it when it did or later, or were you hoping to appear again on her deathbed, apologize wishing to take it back?" His laugh was cold but filled with glee. "You could join your lover your blood is as tainted if not more than hers."

Astarion reached for his dagger, his anger overcoming him. The satyr was to die at his hands.

"Or, we could play another game. Luckily for you, a friend told me of how you freed her from the corrupted Drow."