Eternal Fate

Act 9 | The Truth is in the Stars

The Truth is in the Stars

The group has gathered around the crackling campfire that Letho ignited with a simple gesture. Although Witchers are not known for their magical virtuosity, Letho was skilled enough to ignite the fire with ease, as the flames slowly rise and fill the camp with a warm glow.

With a slight sigh, he settles onto a tree stump that seems to threaten to crack under his mass. With almost effortless strength, he had dragged some loose, rotten logs to the spot to use as seats. Neuvi and Callonetta relax by the fire, their hands outstretched to enjoy the cozy warmth. But Astarion hesitates.

The simplicity of this situation triggers a certain aversion in him. The rustic atmosphere of the camp stands in stark contrast to his former life as a slave, where he lived in at least a magnificent palace. Nevertheless, he eventually forces himself to sit down, albeit reluctantly. His proud demeanor and aristocratic bearing set him apart from the others as he tries to conceal his dissatisfaction. Astarion is aware that he must hide among these people whose lives and goals are so far removed from his own.

Callonetta waves enthusiastically to Rolan as he busies himself setting up his tent. "Rolan, come and join us by the fire! The others would enjoy your company!" she calls out to him, her voice full of energy and warmth.

Rolan, engrossed in his spells, waves her off and continues to focus on his task. As he sets up the tent, he murmurs skilled incantations that the others can overhear in the background. He resembles a conductor seeking the right notes to complete his masterpiece.

Astarion observes the scholar with a hint of wistfulness, wondering how he could have transported such a large tent. But perhaps it was just another magic trick. Internally, he is annoyed by the arrogance of mages who can enjoy such comforts while he himself must do without luxury. Yet at the same time, he cannot conceal his envy of Rolan's privileged position.

Callonetta notices Astarion's dark expression and moves closer to him, a broad smile on her lips. "Ah, Astarion, your countenance resembles a storm on the horizon, seeking to assert itself against the gentle rays of the moon." she teasingly chides him. "Our great leader will surely join us later."

Surprised by her direct address, Astarion searches for a response as his gaze nervously roams. "It's not... I mean... it's not because of Rolan. I just hoped for some peace." he stammers, trying to organize his thoughts.

Callonetta throws her head back and laughs cheerfully, not paying much attention to his half-hearted justification. "Ah, yes, you and Rolan, two souls like opposing winds that nevertheless revolve around the same tree. But do not be annoyed, for in every storm lies the opportunity for a new song of reconciliation."

Astarion nods, a faint smile on his lips, though he is still inwardly surprised by Callonetta's unpredictable personality. It is difficult for him to adapt to such spontaneous interactions, but he cannot deny finding her metaphors refreshing in a way, even though it is hard for him to admit it.

Astarion shifts his attention to Neuvi, who is polishing his shortsword on his lap. The delicate spider symbols adorning the blade are typical of the religion of the Drow.

A nod in Neuvi's direction suffices before Astarion makes a disparaging comment. "Can you even handle that sword?" His tone is challenging as he adds mockingly "After all, men in the Underdark are only there to serve and look pretty, aren't they?"

Letho, his gaze fixed on the fire, dryly interjects "It seems Astarion would fit perfectly into Drow society under these circumstances."

The laughter of Neuvi and Callonetta fills the night as Astarion feels uncomfortable. The shame of his failed attempt to demonstrate superiority is evident on his face.