I rose to my feet, spotting my sword resting against a wooden post near the tent door. My body was moving faster than my mind and before I knew it, my sword was in my hand and I was leaving Gales tent. A hint of panic settled in my throat, halting my movements, making me sick to my stomach. I was about to face people without my helmet for the first time since I'd ever become an oathbreaker. I raised my free hand to my cheek, my touch hovering over my skin as I felt my fingers shake. What if I'm exposed? What if they see right through me?
"He's the one that saved you, by the way." Gale said from behind me, snapping me back to reality, "Your secret that is." I looked back at the Waterdeep Wizard who stared at his feet, fiddling his thumbs while he inhaled deeply, "You know what, I have decided what it is I want in exchange for..." He dug back in his pocket, sifting out the jar with the skin color cream inside, "this." I stared back at the man, halted in the doorway of his tent. "A conversation." Gale said, sticking his hands back in his pockets, "Over some tea...maybe?" I pursed my lips together silently, a wave of guilt resting my stomach.
"This is a kindness I will never forget." I said to the wizard, watching as his face softened under my gaze. I turned to leave, my feet remaining firmly planted, "Tea sounds nice." I whispered quietly, yanking Gale's tent door open as I heard another loud crash.
I saw them before anyone saw me. Astarion was crumpled up on the ground, holding his hands out in front of him as a shield, while he violently shook his head. He was covered in dust and dirt, a deep purple shading his left cheek, and his fingers wrapped in cuts.
"Now, now-..." The pale elf pleaded as he scrambled backwards, "Let's not be too hasty here..." He coughed, wiping a small dribble of blood from the corner of his lip. Wyll was standing over him, fury and rage running rampant in his eyes while Shadowheart held him back, a bit half heartedly I might say. The warlock tore from her grasp rather easily, towering over the crippled man, bringing his hands into his chest.
"For all you've done to her..." He began, a glowing red light circling around his fingers. He was casting Eldritch blast. My eyes widened as I kneeled down while I walked, scooping a small rock in between my fingers. "You will die." I reeled back my hand, sending the pebble whistling through the air with all of my might. The rock slammed into Wyll's hand, causing him to lose concentration and curse out in pain as the red light from his spell dissipated. "What in the blazes-?!" Wyll snapped, clutching his hand and he looked in the direction the pebble had flown from. I closed the distance between us, stepping in between the Vampire and Warlock, pointing the sharp edge of my blade against Wyll's chest.
Time seemed to slow. At least for me.
I've known Wyll long enough to be able to read the many faces and expressions he wore. I knew what he was thinking when those honeyed eyes flitted up to my face, widening with surprise. I knew what he was thinking when his gaze softened, when his lips pursed, and his nose scrunched slightly. And when his eyebrows furrowed together and his lips parted, the look on his face was plain for anyone to see. Betrayal.
All eyes were on me, as I dug the tip of my blade into the fabric of my childhood friend's vest. I'm not entirely sure why I did it, or why the blood under my skin boiled as it did while I watched Wyll teeter on the edge of murder. And he looked at me. The boy I knew, who turned into the man I didn't, his hands falling at his side as he stared at me in disbelief.
"You will not hurt him." I firmly said, my voice not even sounding my own if not coming from the void of my helmet. Wyll tilted his head to the side slightly, huffing quietly as he shook his head.
"(Y/N)." He whispered my name, his eyes scaling down my body carefully, as if he were remembering where each scar and burn I had was. My grip around the handle of my sword wavered slightly as I felt embarrassed, for the first time in a decade. Here I stood, almost nude in front of people I very closely despised, and one I held very dearly. I was bare, exposing myself and showing them every battle I had lost and even the few I had won. For the first time in ten years, there was no armor to hide behind. Wyll frowned, inching closer to me, digging my sword only deeper into his shoulder. "What...happened to you?" I was hideous. A Frankenstein-like monster who pieced herself together time and time again, brutally and viciously. I narrowed my eyes over the warlock, ignoring the ache in my chest, flicking my blade to the side without breaking the gaze I held with Wyll.
