❝ Song of a Swallowtail ❞ - Bloodweave

Chapter 2

Beneath blood-red skies,

And scars of night,

Two souls drift,

Bound by shadow and light.

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

Sleep did not come for the wizard all that well. He tossed and turned on the plush of his bed as thoughts from the six months journeying together consumed his thoughts.

At first, he didn't really like the rogue and didn't appreciate having a knife held to his throat as they tussled on the ground. The thought of incinerating the male had always been an option and he was willing to take his chances with Shadowheart right there, but he saw a small light in the scared male, who only wanted help... and eventually he joined the pack. He was always getting the crew into trouble because he found something "funny" or doing a kind action was too much work for him when Gale insisted that they should be diplomatic.

And yet, he found himself thinking back to the night in the Blighted Village, rummaging through boxes and dead goblins for ANY sign of magic in the veil of night. He had told Astarion SOME stuff about his past: his goddess (Astarion wasn't a big fan of her), Elminister, his talent and causing mayhem through some of his choices when he was younger; however, the orb in his chest that could level the size of the city of Waterdeep was another. The arcane hunger. None of it. He didn't want to weigh the group down by exposing a secret he had only told his trusted tressym, Tara. Having someone carry a burden such as his would be too much to ask. He struggled to get ahold of some of the magical items the companions discovered and it was hurting his health. He thought about stealing, but he couldn't bring himself to it. He didn't have the guts.

"Hm, unexpected," he heard a voice coo from the darkness, startling him from his expedition. At first, he didn't recognize the deep hum of the voice until his mind focused harder - Astarion. The orb quivered in his chest as he had to find an artifact soon and if Astarion was going to be there for it, then he would have to take his chances. He pretended not to hear the person he didn't get along with that much until Astarion made himself known beneath the moon's light. So far, there was nothing. "Tell me, Gale of Waterdeep, what brings you out in darkness? Are you not afraid of what the Gur hunter said – that there is a vampire spawn that lurks here?"

"Please, I'll take my chances," he remarked. He had more important things to do: like finding a magic artifact to ingest. A vampire he could handle, but if the orb blew up? Everything would be disintegrated. Everything would be gone. He just had to keep looking. "Besides, the vampire can be anywhere. I'll be on the lookout though if you're so hellbent about me being bit if you want to head back to camp."

"...Vampire spawn," Astarion had corrected. He usually enjoyed their conversations but he cannot get sidetracked. His life and everyone's life was on the line. Yet, in the midst of his arcane hunger, he couldn't help himself but indulge in the facts. He loved the facts.

"Still a part of the vampire tree. Now, they may not have the grand lair nor the loyal swarm but a vampire spawn is still part of the vampire family. Technically."

"Don't play technicalities, Gale," Astarion tutted as he gracefully skulked towards him. "Doesn't deny the fact that the vampire spawn could be very hungry, now does it?"