The Quest for Dawn

Chapter 28: A Bargain with Fate

The rapier and staff dropped to the floor. Propelled forward unerringly, his mind focused on the place he heard her fall, Astarion rushed to Tavriel. The place in his chest where his heart once beat was being torn apart, his world crumbling as he slid on his knees to her side. Frantically, his hands searched for her. They found the softness of her body, the warm slick of her blood.

A heart-wrenching scream tore from his throat. Gently, reverently, he cradled her in his arms.

"Shadowheart!" he cried, his voice breaking, "Do something!"

The cleric, still reeling from the final blow she had struck against Linvail, stood paralyzed by the sudden turn of events. At Astarion's anguished cry, Shadowheart snapped out of her stupor, her feet instinctively carrying her towards the tragic scene unfolding before her. She reached Tavriel's side. The healing spell was already on her lips, her hands hovering at the wound. But it did not bring back a heartbeat.

Behind them, Elara stumbled backward, her eyes wide with shock. The dagger, still dripping with Tavriel's blood, clattered to the floor. Her rage dissolved into a chilling realization of what she had done. Her breath caught in her throat, her mind struggling to comprehend. She fled the room.

Astarion's entire body trembled as he held his beloved, his head buried against hers, his mind reeling in a whirlpool of grief and disbelief. "Please," he implored through his sobs, choked with grief and desperation, "Heal her. Save her."

His quivering hand sought her face, finding a lingering warmth. His fingers wove through the silken strands of her hair. He spoke to her, "Wake up, my love. Please, you can't die. I still need you, my darling..." The words became incoherent mutterings of apologies and pleas.

The usually stoic cleric felt her eyes stinging with tears. She had no magic capable of reversing death, and her inability to save Tavriel pierced her heart like a sharpened blade. Astarion's profound grief, echoing in his anguished cries, further deepened her encroaching despair. Through her tear-blurred vision, she barely registered the sudden appearance of a figure clad in a bright green tunic, standing silhouetted against the doorway.

"What's happened?!" exclaimed Gale, hurrying to his companions. What he saw horrified him to the core. Tavriel lay in Astarion's arms, a vicious wound soaked in blood blooming from her chest. Shadowheart knelt helplessly beside them, shaking her head.

But the wizard, ever resourceful, even if his methods were often questionable, always had a plan. His mind raced with calculations, and with a swift motion, he delved into his pocket, retrieving the Hourglass of Thol'Serran. He, too, refused to accept this cruel fate. He dropped to his knees beside Shadowheart, urging the hourglass into her hands.

"Use this," he commanded, his voice laced with urgency. "Do it now! The runes must be spoken in Elvish. Quickly!"

Amidst the depths of her grief, Shadowheart found herself startled by Gale's unexpected proposition. The mithril hourglass, a relic with the power to reverse time, rested heavily in her hands. She had to blink the tears away, glancing at Astarion as he was consumed in his anguish. A hope ignited within her, banishing her skepticism on such powerful magic that none of them could truly understand. If it could save her friend's life...

Shadowheart's expression softened, considering the hourglass. She took a breath, slow and deep to steady her nerves. Her voice wavered, and she began to recite the runes.

" Ilaenir... "

Gale glanced behind him, hearing footsteps approaching down the corridor. "Hurry!"

"... ránamo... "

Astarion's breath hitched, his head sinking down to meet Tavriel's.

"...eldarn istaen."