ODA, WHERE IS TRAFALGAR LAW!!!!!!!!

After a rather enjoyable day lecturing his apprentices, Hanzi, Jun, and he had decided to grab a pastry and head over to Second Story. It was almost the end of Elasis, which meant he needed to take advantage of the sweet summer fruits as much as he could before switching to the desserts with pumpkin, pears, and cranberries. Jun had settled on a blackberry turnover, and Hanzi had decided to get a savory spinach puff pastry. Gale had decided on a strawberry hand pie with icing sugar dusted on top. That sounded delightful.

He knew someone who loved strawberries. Who was it?

He was pondering who exactly it was who liked strawberries while the baker wrapped his pastry into a paper bag.

"Strawberries," he murmured to himself while Jun and Hanzi spoke behind him. "Who likes strawberries…?" He looked around the bakery as if searching for a clue. Nothing terribly inspiring. Art on the walls, a few chairs, and a table. He looked behind the counter, nothing thought-provoking there either.

"You seem to have a lot on your mind, Gale," the baker said with a smile. "Thinking about strawberries?"

"Yes," he confirmed with a nod. "Someone I know enjoys strawberries, but I can't seem to recall who." He hummed.

The baker laughed. "I'm sure you'll figure it out. You'd better remember soon! The last of the strawberries will be for sale soon. Make sure you get some when you buy your groceries next."

Groceries.

Wait! That's right!

Gale grinned. "My dear fellow, you just reminded me of who it is! I'll take a dozen, if you so please."

The baker grinned at him. "Coming right up!"

Once he bought the dozen hand pies, he started to ask his friends if they would be willing to make a stop before their adventure to Second Story, but Hanzi just laughed and smacked Gale on the back. He said that he was glad that Gale had become friends with Yrelia, as she always needed more friends.

Gale smiled as he walked between his two friends, happy to have the conversation and company. He adjusted the box of strawberry hand pies in his hands. He hoped Yrelia would enjoy them. Strawberries were her favorite, and everyone deserves a nice treat. Besides, he owed her a grand amount of pastries for all the meat she had given him. She truly was so kind. Everyone had told him repeatedly how kind Yrelia Rosewood was, but he supposed that finally meeting her and seeing that kindness was needed to understand. He'd love to learn more about her. Their friendship was becoming as important to him as his older friendships were! He really just wanted to get to know her more!

He must have dinner with her! When he was in Second Story, he had to find puzzles for her to do! They could do one together! That sounded like a fine evening.

The three wizards approached Rosewood's, all with smiles on their faces. They stopped curiously when they noticed quick movements inside. Concern grew in Gale's stomach. He had never seen such swift actions from his new friend. He hoped that she wasn't in trouble.

"She's rather excited," Jun said thoughtfully.

"Yes," Gale agreed. "It seems she's in a bit of a panic."

"Well, we're three capable wizards!" Hanzi grinned. "I'm sure we can help out our little hunter with ease."

They agreed, nodding at each other before approaching the front door. Hanzi opened the door, and Gale stepped in.

"Oh!" Yrelia exclaimed. "Oh, shit," she hissed quietly. Gale's brows twitched as he realized he had never heard her curse before. "I forgot to lock the door."

"Is everything all right, Lia?" Hanzi asked.

"Oh, yes," she replied, waving her hands. "We're just in a huge rush, and waiting on that damn carriage to get here."

"Carriage?" Gale questioned.

She let out a sharp puff of air. It was annoyance, though Gale assumed it wasn't at him. "Yes. My sister-in-law is in labor in my back room, and Cyr left to grab a carriage to take her to the House of Healing. I will not allow my new niece or nephew to be born in a leatherworking shop if I can help it."

"Oh, goodness!" Jun exclaimed. "Can we do anything?"

"Not unless you have a midwife with you," Yrelia said with a strained smile. "No, I'm afraid there's nothing anyone can do until we see a physician and the midwives." She smiled awkwardly between them, clearly trying not to be rude. She wanted them to leave, but was trying to be polite. Well, Gale can certainly take a hint. He'd rather not be in her way when she was clearly stressed.

"Then we will scurry off to leave you to your family," he said with a smile. "Forgive us for the intrusion, Lia."

"Oh, you three are fine. I was the one who didn't properly button up my shop. Thank you for stopping by. We can catch up another time."

"We will need to!" Hanzi laughed. "There's going to be a new Rosewood baby! They'll be the talk of the town!"

Yrelia clenched her teeth but said nothing. Hanzi and Jun started to leave the shop, talking quietly with smiles on their faces. Gale began to follow them but paused as he realized the box of strawberry hand pies was still in his hands. He turned to Yrelia, who very clearly looked as if she was trying to bottle up her stress and anxiety.

"Lia," he called.

A curious, but strained smile grew on her face. "Yes?"

He walked over to her. She blinked, and her brows knitted together. "I thought…you might enjoy these strawberry pastries. Please, take them."

"Oh." She said succinctly. "I…thank you. This is too kind."

"Not at all. I will mosey on my way and get out of your hair. Congratulations."

After Gale had left Rosewood's, he could hear Yrelia lock the front door. He sighed, surprised to find himself fairly disappointed that he could not have a real conversation with her that day. He supposed that was part of friendship. Wanting to spend time with your friends is normal. Next time, he would absolutely invite her over for a get-together with friends!

Hanzi and Jun had waited for him, conversing quietly. They grinned at him as he approached them.

"We were just discussing what gift we should buy for Amber and her baby," Jun said with a clap. "Such a young mother, but with Yrelia by her side, there's certainly nothing they can't handle."

"You know her sister-in-law well?"

"Not particularly," Hanzi laughed. "Amber is a bit shy. She'd typically stay in Rosewood's back room when she was in the shop. She's young. Only eighteen. She came here on a boat all by herself because she missed Cyr so much."

"Ah. Young love," Jun sighed. "Cyr and Amber were living with Yrelia until Amber was pregnant. They decided to move out then."

"Trying to be adults! It's cute," Hanzi laughed again. "We can figure out the gifts later. We still have our own shopping to do!"

"Book shopping!" The three wizards laughed together.

The Second Story was always a wonderful place to visit. The smell, the books, the puzzles, and the games were so wonderful. The miniature figures of wizards were certainly insulting, but even they could be somewhat endearing. The shopkeeper was always so kind and enthusiastic, often holding books for Gale when he asked, and sometimes when he didn't ask!

There was a rival bookstore, Cover Stories, nearby. Gale did not care for that store. It was some chain trying to branch out to all of Faerûn. He hadn't heard much about the owner, only that he was married and apparently fairly attractive. The only reason he knew about the man was because Tara had decided to look into him to see if he would be a match for Gale.

Gale was more offended that Tara thought he'd be willing to betray his dear friend at Second Story than by the fact that she had been trying to play matchmaker again.

He had requested puzzles from the shopkeeper and mentioned that Yrelia had become his friend, saying he wanted to buy one for her that she hadn't seen. He explained that Yrelia had helped him out more than once, and he was trying to repay her kindness.

"That certainly sounds like Miss Yrelia. I have just the one. It's over 1000 pieces, and quite complicated. She'll love it!"

The three wizards bid each other goodnight as they all walked away with stacks and bags of books. Gale surely should walk home. He had plenty of new books and puzzles that deserved to be in their new home, but he also wanted to have a glass of wine with his mother. And perhaps dinner. He'd be lying if he said he didn't want a home-cooked meal from his mother.

That sounded lovely.

"Mother!" Gale called from his mother's front doorway.

"Gale?" Morena called back to him. She peered from behind a wall that led into the kitchen. "You're here?"

"I hope I am not intruding!"

"Oh, not at all, my love! Come in! I have dinner on the stove and have made enough for two and still have leftovers."

"Wonderful." He took off his shoes and gently kicked them aside. He adjusted his books and puzzles as he walked into the sitting room and then set them down on an end table. "I've decided to drop in to see how you've been. I fear I haven't seen you as much as I had hoped lately."

"Oh," Morena said in soft shock. She had clearly started to believe that he had begun to slip into his old habit of rarely visiting her. "Well, this is certainly a pleasant surprise, love. I'm happy you're here." She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Please tell me about your day, Gale." She motioned for him to follow her into the kitchen.

He smiled and followed her. He told her about his day at the Academy. The apprentices were enthusiastic and productive that day. He was almost disappointed there was no mischief involved! They laughed about a joke Hanzi had made during lunch hour, and Morena praised him for the lunch he had made for himself.

"After lectures, Han, Jun, and I stopped by the bakery to partake in a bite before perusing Second Story."

"Oh, I've heard much about that place. I have a few friends who speak of it; one is in my horse-riding group! It seems a wonderful place."

"It is," Gale confirmed with a nod. "Before we graced those floors, I had purchased a box of strawberry hand pies for a friend in the Market. Strawberries are her favorite fruit, and they were divine. I knew she would love them."

"Mirabella? I didn't know she enjoyed strawberries!"

"Ah, no, Mother. This is a new friend! She's a lovely lady, but a bit shy."

"Oh? Who is she? I might know her."

"Her name is Yr-"

"Mother!" They heard Lillian call, followed by two excited children calling for their grandmother.

Morena's eyes lit up. Gale smiled. His mother was finally receiving what she had wanted for years. Nights with her family. With both of her children and grandchildren. He knew she missed his father, and that one day they would see one another again, but for now, Gale had gifted her with something she had sorely wanted for years.

The short rest eased the pain in their muscles, but the mood had reached a low point. The companions trudged along the winding path like listless schoolchildren on their way to class.

A shrill screech made them all perk up and freeze mid-step. Wyll and Karlach exchanged a nervous look, and Scratch let out a soft whimper.

The screech came again, but louder this time—closer. The sound of heavy wings came next, just before a huge shadow passed over the rocky path they were on.

The crimson beast soared through the sky like a celestial body. The dragon’s rough, red scales were gleaming in the sunlight; its belly was lighter, almost a silvery gold. Its movements were majestic, its sheer size seeming to negate the fluency and elegance of its motions.

For the duration of a breath, Ada was back on the Nautiloid, feeling the heat of the fire and the tug-of-war between terror and wonder in her chest.

The dragon let out a guttural sound that echoed through the mountains, leaving goose bumps on Ada’s skin. Her excitement soared. She took a few steps forward instinctively, eyes locked onto the majestic creature.

She stood a few strides ahead of the others now, almost at the crest of the ridge they had just climbed. Her head was tilted back, and she blinked against the sky in the hopes of catching another glimpse of the dragon.

From behind her, she heard sharp intakes of breath and Gale pointedly whispering her name.

“Ada!” She glanced backwards to see him crouching beside some shrubbery, his gaze dark and wary. “This isn’t a spectacle to admire. It's a threat.”

As she looked around, she saw the others had tried to make themselves disappear in crags or under one of the sparse trees. Everyone, that was, but her and Lae’zel.

Ada’s excitement deflated under the weight of the warning, yet Lae’zel eyed her with an expression resembling approval. It seemed to please her that Ada appreciated the dragon as much as she did.

The rest of the group had become tense and silent. Shadowheart’s hand was already on her mace, her eyes narrowed as they followed the dragon’s path across the sky. Karlach’s jaw clenched, her fiery hair snapping in the wind as she instinctively shifted into a fighting stance. Wyll had gone eerily quiet, scanning the mountainside as if expecting danger to emerge from every crack.

However, Lae’zel now stood next to Ada, and her voice sounded like worship. “Draa! Vlaakith gha'g shkath zai!”

Turning to her, Lae’zel added, “A red dragon. My kin must be nearby.”

“Let’s not be hasty,” Wyll said hurriedly as he caught up with Ada and Lae’zel. The others were directly behind him.

Ada opened her mouth to agree, but was cut off immediately.

“We follow it,” Lae’zel declared, her voice hard as steel. Her yellow eyes gleamed with a rare excitement. “That dragon will lead us to the patrol.”

Lae’zel’s single-mindedness was nothing new to the companions, but the tension in her body and the eagerness in her eyes made Ada uneasy.

“That thing could burn us alive with one huff.” Gale declared, “Mind if we don’t risk it and approach carefully?”

Shadowheart nodded vigorously. “I’ve warned you all about the Gith before. They’re dangerous. That dragon and its rider are no different.”

Ada chewed her lip, her excitement now replaced with a knot of fear twisting in her stomach. She shot a glance at Gale, who met her eyes with a look that said he agreed with Shadowheart. Still, Lae’zel wouldn’t be swayed.

“Fear weakens the mind,” Lae’zel snapped. “The Gith will not harm us as long as they see me among you.”

Her yellow eyes were now fixed on Ada. “Since we met, I have not led you astray; you can trust me. I don’t need you to believe this, for it to be true.”

This was an undeniable fact. For all her rudeness and obstinacy, Lae’zel had been a loyal ally, if a temperamental one. And yet, judging by the looks of the other companions, they were not convinced of this.

“Let’s get to the top of this hill and have a look,” Ada suggested, if only to postpone the decision for a few more moments. She gave a nod to Lae’zel, and the warrior turned and led them onward.

The other side of the hill sloped steeply downwards. Below lay a wide area resembling a parade ground. To their left was a wooden palisade fortification stretching across the entire width of the field. The gate in the fortification was open, the battlement unoccupied.

On the opposite side was a small gate decorated with colourful ribbons and carvings. Above it was the symbol of a sun. It was a landmark for a pilgrimage route that led further up the mountain.

The remaining side of the square was an open ravine. The stone bridge that had led to the other side was destroyed.

Two groups faced each other on the square. Ada immediately recognised them as Flaming Fist soldiers by their armour. There were about half a dozen of them, all with their backs to the precipice and, as far as she could tell, unarmed.

Opposite them stood just as many Githyanki soldiers. Their distinct silver armour shone in the sunlight, their movements precise and deliberate as they surrounded the Flaming Fist. All of them held heavy weapons in their hands.

‘This is your last warning!’ stammered one Flaming Fist. “Drop your weapons. NOW!”

A murmur went through the group of gith; a disrespectful sound of contempt, not even a chuckle. A woman in their ranks raised her sword and assumed a fighting stance.

“Htak’a!”

The command was loud and clear, and her comrades followed her movement with frightening synchronicity.

But none of the Flaming Fist would feel the silver weapons of the Gith; the moment the command echoed across the field, the dark shadow of the dragon glided over them all once more.

This time, Ada could smell the sulphur and flames even before she saw the fire engulfing the soldiers at the gorge.

The cries of pain and the heat of the fire on her skin made Ada shudder.

Heat. Burning Flesh. Images from the nautiloid and the goblin camp filled her head for a moment. Fear ran through her, and she felt her sharp nails dig into her palm.

“Oakfather, preserve us,” Halsin grumbled next to Ada.

The dragon’s talons made a ghastly sound on the rocks as it settled on the edge of the field. The Gith astride it dismounted with a swift leap, moving with the kind of efficient fluidity Ada had only seen in Lae’zel.

“You are not here to play with the locals,” the man barked at the Githyanki warriors. “Our queen watches us. Fail her at your own peril.”

Ada felt a shiver run down her spine.

His voice was sharp, commanding, and carried the same ruthless edge as Lae’zel’s, but there was something far more menacing.

It was clear that this was someone of great authority, likely their commander. His armour, adorned with silver and blood-red accents, was more elaborate than the others, his face hard and weathered. His gaze swept over the scene with disdain, and when he spoke, his voice carried across the battlefield like the crack of a whip.

The Gith soldiers hastily followed his order and began looting the remains of the burned men and women. Their approach was methodical and diligent; they seemed unbothered by the smell or the fact that these charred figures had been people just moments before.

Shadowheart’s face was grim. “This is what I warned you about,” she hissed with a searing look at Ada.

Karlach and Astarion did not seem keen on a closer look at the patrol or the dragon either. But Lae’zel’s eyes were locked on her kin, her expression fierce and determined.

“We are not like these soldiers,” she insisted, her voice tight. “I am a child of Gith. They will not harm us.”

Her confidence was admirable, and while Ada trusted Lae’zel, she did not trust the patrol on the parade ground below them.

Lae’zel’s posture straightened, and before any of them could react, she was already striding down the hill toward the commander.

Ada made an instinctive grab for Lae’zel’s arm but missed her by an inch. She doubted she could have stopped the warrior even if she’d made contact.

So, Ada stood there, looking after Lae’zel for a heartbeat, while the rest of the group hesitated as well, uncertain what to do next. At this point, they had little choice but to follow, so they grudgingly began moving.

Meanwhile, Lae’zel’s gaze was fixed on the Gith commander. She stopped in front of him, her head held high.

“Rider, my time is short! Lead me to—”

“Shh…”

The commander’s interruption was a sharp, dangerous hiss. He lifted his palm and tilted his head, looking at Lae’zel with a mix of amusement and contempt.

None of the other gith paid the strange group of travellers much attention. The soldiers were completely undisturbed by them running after Lae’zel; the companions registered as little more than scrurrying vermin to them.

Ada came into earshot just in time to hear the commander’s next words.

“Such a familiar tone. Were I not merciful, I would slice the skin clean from your meat. Yet you are not bleeding, for I am nothing if not merciful.”

His voice hardened around the last words. Ada’s heart pounded in her chest, and not just from the sprint to catch up with Lae’zel. This was reckless and dangerous.

The tension in the air was suffocating, and every instinct screamed at her to pull Lae’zel away. However, it was clear to Ada that the patrol would not just leave them be after they had shown themselves. They had made their bed and now they’d have to lie in it.

Under the commander’s intense scrutiny, Lae’zel stood firm, though Ada noticed the slightest tremor in her stance.

“Your name, child,” he demanded.

“Lae’zel,” she replied. Her voice was clear, but Ada had never heard her speak with an undertone of veneration before. The commander’s expression shifted, something like approval flickering across his stern features.

“Lae’zel,” he mused, “Proud. Regal even. You will call me Jhe’stil Kith’rak.”

Lae’zel nodded, her voice reverent now. “Voss. Knight Supreme. The queen’s silver, the queen’s sword.”

“I am who you say,” he confirmed with a quiet satisfaction, clearly relishing the respect in her words. “A ghaik vessel has fallen from the sky, Lae’zel. Thieves aboard have taken a weapon most precious.

“It is polyhedric in shape and inscribed with the runes of our people,” Voss continued.

Ada’s stomach dropped, and beside her, she felt Shadowheart shift uncomfortably. That description sounded a little too familiar.

On the bridge, before the goblin camp, Ada had briefly seen the artefact as it protected them from the voice of the Absolute. And each of its many sides had had glowing symbols on it.

As Voss spoke, Ada felt a tremor through her mind and body. The artefact seemed to stir, like it was alive, and it was afraid. It didn’t want to be found by the Githyanki. Inwardly, Ada begged her body not to betray her nerves now.

The commander’s cold gaze lingered on Lae’zel. “Take word to the nearest Crèche, just over the mountain pass. You are to join the search.”

Lae’zel hesitated for the briefest of moments, her eyes flicking toward Ada.

For the first time, Ada saw doubt in the githyanki warrior’s eyes. Ada gave Lae’zel the slightest shake of the head, begging her to play along and not give them away. If the truth came out now, Ada was sure it would be their end.

Lae’zel nodded, then bowed to the Kith’rak.

Voss studied her for a moment longer before nodding, apparently satisfied. “Speak up, child. Affirm your mandate.”

Standing up straight, looking directly into the commander’s face, Lae’zel confirmed her task. “You honour me with this duty, Kith’rak. I shall alert my caretaker with haste.”

Her voice was stronger now than it had been before. But as their eyes met again, Ada saw the unspoken fear there. Even Lae’zel knew this was a dangerous path.

“You serve your queen well, child,” Voss commended. “Take your slaves and hunt those who escaped the ghaik ship. They must carry the weapon.”

“Yes, Jhe’stil Kith’rak.” Lae’zel gave him a nod, but did not move. She waited for something else, an official dismissal.

As he mounted the dragon, Voss addressed not only Lae’zel but the members of his patrol. “I fly now to Vlaakith, our Undying Queen. She will see your faith rewarded in this plane and ours.”

Something about the way he said this did not feel right to Ada. She had the distinct feeling he was going many places. His queen’s side was not one of them.

The Kith’rak raised his arm. “Qudenos, to the sky!” And with that, the dragon spread its wings and jolted upwards like an arrow.

“Come!” Lae’zel commanded, and the group followed her without complaint, if only to keep up the appearance of their servitude. She led them through the decorated pilgrim’s gate and up another steep incline.

Once they were safely out of earshot, Lae’zel rounded on them.

“Dammit all!” Her fury cut through the silence like a blade nicking skin.

Ada shuddered as Lae’zel’s yellow eyes landed on her.

“You did well to intervene, vexed as I am to admit it. The Jhe’stil Kith’rak would have flayed our skin and left our carcasses to burn in the sun…”

Abruptly, Lae’zel straightened and strode towards Shadowheart.

“All this for the sake of the artefact that you carry.” Lae’zel’s voice was dangerously low, her stance wide and unyielding.

Karlach stood beside Shadowheart with a rigid posture, watching the gith warrior intently. Ada was sure that if Lae’zel made a move to attack the cleric, Karlach would intervene.

“Lae, what do you want?” Karlach asked carefully, while Shadowheart just stared daggers at Lae’zel. The tiefling’s words did not even register; Lae’zel did not even look at Karlach, her entire attention was on the cleric.

“You carry a githyanki relic. I will have an explanation… or your head.”

Shadowheart barely reached Lae’zel’s shoulder, and yet, she did not seem intimidated in the least by the towering warrior. “Walk away. Now. I won’t warn you again.”

Lae’zel raised her voice. “You have an heirloom precious to my kin! You have kept it hidden long enough.”

She bared her teeth in a ferocious snarl. “I will have it back.”

“An heirloom, you call it?”

Shadowheart’s voice was mocking, with a cold disbelief layered beneath. “Plunder from some conquered realm, more like.”

Shadowheart looked at the other companions, who all stood and watched this confrontation unfold. “This artefact is the only thing keeping us from becoming slaves to our parasites. You should all be glad I have it!”

She sounded hurt suddenly, like she could not believe that siding with her was not a foregone conclusion.

Wyll made a small step towards Shadowheart, an attempt at diplomacy.

“Whatever the origin of this artefact may be, it is the only thing keeping us from turning into mindflayers. For now, its purpose is greater than anyone’s claim.”

“Well, we’re not the only ones laying claim to it, are we?” Astarion asked with an annoyed look at the warlock. “The cultists want it. So do the githyanki. It must be worth a fortune.”

He had a hungry look in his eyes as he said this. Ada shot him a dirty look.

“Right now, the most valuable thing it does is protect us,” she said firmly, intently meeting her companions’ eyes. “So, can we all agree to hold onto it as long as we are infected?”

Her companions all made noises of assent, though none of them seemed to want to elaborate on the time after their infection. 

“So… what next?” Karlach asked. She looked a little more at ease, now that Lae’zel and Shadowheart stood a few strides apart.

Lae’zel did not hesitate. “The créche is near. We follow the path forward and into the valley. No one, not even the ignoble Jhe’stil Kith’rak, will keep me from my purification.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Wyll burst out. “We just agreed to protect the artefact and now you want to follow orders and alert your crèche?”

“It is not ‘my’ crèche, istik. I am from crèche K’liir.” Lae’zel’s posture straightened, indignant, as if that should have been apparent to them. “The Jhe’stil Kith’rak assumed I was returning to my caretaker with my slaves.”

“Homicidal fanatics aside,” Shadowheart said, with another pointed look at Lae’zel, “Who says that this cure the githyanki have even works on our parasites?”

“Who says we even want to part with them?” Astarion added. “Do none of you want to learn about their potential and what powers they might gift us?”

“Ghaik trickery!” Lae’zel called out. “There is no power to be gained, only enslavement!”

“Well, if anyone knows the ways of the illithid, it’s the githyanki,” Gale conceded. “And since this artefact originates from them, they might even know more about its powers and uses.”

Lae’zel nodded at that. “The ghaik are my people’s mortal enemies. We have hunted them for aeons, learned all there is to learn about them. In the timeless city of Tu’narath, our queen’s finest scholars have bountiful time to consolidate and conserve this knowledge.”

Gale had put on a sagely expression. “And knowledge, as we all know, is its own form of power.“

His tone brightened considerably as he continued, “So how about we enter that crèche, keep our knowledge of the artefact to ourselves and find out as much as we can? If we get cured in the process, we’ll consider it an additional treat.”

Wyll looked unconvinced, and Astarion pouted at them from the tree stump he was lounging on. But if Ada hadn't miscounted, the majority was in favour of a brief visit to the crèche.

“One more thing,” Ada added, softer now but with no less resolve. “We don’t need anyone else coming for the artefact. The gith are not the only ones looking for it. Let us agree on one thing: We’ll keep it secret. Keep it safe.”

This time, Ada looked at each of them in turn, intent on getting a promise out of all of them. Each of them delivered with a ‘yes’ or an ‘aye’.

When she came to Halsin, Ada hesitated. He was not under the artefact’s protection, nor had he tried to claim it in any way. And yet, being near the artefact meant he would likely be killed alongside them if someone came for it.

Sheepishly, Ada said, “I guess we already started keeping it a secret by not telling you about it. Apologies, Halsin, we—”

“There is no need,” the druid said, though his face was serious. “You had no obligation to tell me, though I would have preferred to know of this sooner. I assume it is the same artefact for which the cultists were threatening to destroy my grove?”

Ada nodded uncomfortably.

“In our defence,” Astarion threw in casually, “the grove was already under attack when we got there. Araddin and his crew led the goblins there, not us.”

Ada shot him another exasperated look, but he rolled his eyes at her.

The group fell silent; the only audible sound was the wind rushing along the mountains’ flanks below them.

Lae'zel cast one last glance at Shadowheart, her eyes hard with distrust. “This is not over yet.” She turned and moved away, her back rigid.

Thankfully, Wyll broke the tension in the air by awkwardly clapping his hands. “Well, this seems as nice a place as any to set up camp for the night.”

As the others began setting up camp, Ada hesitated for only a second before following Lae’zel. The githyanki was heading toward a rocky outcrop at the edge of their makeshift clearing, her posture rigid and unreadable in the fading light.

Lae’zel didn’t turn when Ada approached. But the muscles in her back tightened.

“Speak.”

Ada did her best not to bristle at the aggressive tone. “I was wondering… well…”

She took a deep breath. “The kith’rak. Who is he, exactly? And will the crèche obey his orders?”

Lae’zel turned slowly, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Kith’rak Voss is second only to Vlaakith herself. All true githyanki obey him, for to obey him is to obey our queen. He has held his command for centuries.”

Ada blinked. Centuries. Then again, Lae’zel had told her time didn’t pass in the Astral Plane. It still made her head spin.

There was a beat of silence. The wind tugged at Ada’s cloak, cold now that the sun had vanished behind the mountains.

She took a breath. “Listen, Lae’zel. I trust you.” That got Lae’zel’s attention. Her eyes narrowed, but she finally turned fully to face Ada.

“You’ve been a worthy ally. You have kept your word. You are a strong fighter and… maybe even a friend—”

Lae’zel huffed. Loudly.

Okay, okay. I see we’re not quite there yet. Ada forced a smile, hoping it made her appear reasonable and benevolent.

“But look, if we’re going to follow you into this crèche, you’ll need to be less...”

Terrifying. Arrogant. Rude. Abrasive. Stubborn.

“…hostile.”

Lae’zel’s eyes flared dangerously.

“What I mean,” Ada continued quickly, “is that calling us by our species or abilities isn’t helping. And I am not sure I want to know what ‘istik’ means.”

“It means stranger.” Lae’zel shot out. “Foreigner. Not one of the children of Gith.”

“Noted.” Ada replied drily, “But for the sake of this group, for all of us, would you consider maybe not doing that anymore?”

Her voice had gone up at the end, ending in a pitiful squeal. She was very aware that the mean green lady very much still had her greatsword within reach.

Lae’zel lifted her chin, quite literally looking down her nose at Ada.

“What would you have me call you then? Am I supposed to treat you like equals?”

“That would be a start,” Ada said, annoyance shadowing over her fear. “And then, you could even step it up by calling us by our names. I am Ada. The warlock’s name is Wyll… and the cleric you keep fighting with is called Shadowheart.”

Another huff from Lae’zel, this time with even more disdain. Her jaw was tense as she looked Ada up and down.

“I do not suffer fools,” she said at last, “And I am not used to travelling with— people who are not my kin.”

“And if you’re lucky, you won’t have to for much longer,” Ada told her, “but for now, we’re in this together. And I have told you we appreciate your skills.”

Ada could not help her eyes from flicking to the large silver weapon on Lae’zel’s back.

“But it would make it a lot easier to have your back in arguments if you would afford us some basic courtesy.”

Another long pause. Yellow eyes narrowing even further. Then, a sigh.

“G’lyck. As you wish… Ada.”

Ada smiled, enthused by her diplomatic success. She nodded her head slightly, in an attempt to mimic Halsin’s graceful patience. “Thank you, Lae’zel. See you at dinner.”

The view of the sunset over the mountainous valley was breathtakingly beautiful. Ada could see the path they would take the next day, and she could have wept with relief at the fact that it went downhill. It snaked through a ragged labyrinth of cracks and crevices of reddish cliffs.

Ada’s body ached from the relentless march, her muscles sore and her skin still warm from the day’s sun. Today’s encounter with the patrol and the ensuing tension had made the steep inclines even harder to bear.

Now, just after dinner, she stood on one of the few grassy patches that survived the harsh mountain conditions. A sigh slipped from her as she tried to steady her thoughts, letting the sounds of her companions’ quiet movements filter in through her exhaustion.

Across from her, Halsin stood like an unmoving pillar of calm, his arms folded as he regarded her patiently. Nearby, Gale sat on a felled tree trunk, one leg crossed over the other, with a wooden board and a scroll balanced on top.

He had asked to be allowed to attend the lesson out of academic curiosity and to document and better understand Ada's druidic magic.

‘This is not how the arcane art is supposed to work.’ Those had been Gale’s words this morning. Words that had stuck with Ada all day, making her feel self-conscious.

It feels like even in this world, I don’t quite fit in. And everyone seems to be able to tell.

A knot formed in Ada’s stomach, an all too familiar ache to belong entirely. To be seamlessly included in the ecosystem around her. And yet, when she glanced over at Gale, his eyes met hers with that quiet steadiness that made her feel warmth spread in her belly.

“Ada.”

Halsin’s voice brought her back to the lesson she was supposed to be paying attention to. He placed his hands over his stomach, signalling her to do the same.

“Let us find the tipping point, where the emotion starts taking physical shape.”

Ada mimicked him, her palms resting against her abdomen as she drew in a long, slow breath. She felt a little ridiculous, standing there with her hands on her stomach, while Halsin instructed her. But the calm in his voice filled the air, pressing gently against her stubborn tension.

“The owlbear is not separate from you. Neither is its fury.” Halsin said slowly. “They are both part of nature, as you are. Breathe deeply, close your eyes, and reach into yourself to find them.”

Maybe that’s why I’m this tall, Ada grumbled inwardly, to make enough room inside me for me.

She clumsily began searching herself for her anger, like someone patting themself down to find a bruise or a sore spot. There were a lot of things to be angry about, weren’t there?

I am angry about the tadpole, she thought to herself. I am angry about Kagha and how she got off lightly. I am angry at the other druids who would rather pray than actually do something to stop her.

In her chest, a restlessness started to grow, and it began reaching out, setting more of her mind aflame.

I am disgusted by the goblins’ cruelty. I am furious that they have their goddess, and we don’t have any divine assistance. I am annoyed with Shadowheart and Lae’zel for their bickering. I am angry at this entire bloody plane for being so complicated and dangerous. I am angry that this situation is making me feel overwhelmed. I hate walking uphill. I hate the endless sun. I hate having to keep it all in. I hate having to be strong.

It felt like flames had erupted from the centre of her chest. Her skin felt hot, her hands shook with the mass of unused energy within her. Like a wildfire, her fury shot through her, consuming all it found in its wake.

Gooseflesh spread over her skin, but with actual feathers sprouting from each raised bump. Ada felt the pain of her bones growing, stretching her skin almost to breaking point. A tremor ran through her jaw as the wildshape attempted to form it into a beak.

Ada wanted to scream, attempted to clap her hands over her mouth. But her fingers were painfully bent, halfway through their transformation into talons. Any sound she might have made died in her throat.

She was deaf to the world around her; she heard only the racing of her own heart, louder than anything else. The panic she’d felt that day in front of the grove was creeping back, tightening her chest and clouding her mind. Her insides turned to ice as she felt her sense of self slipping away, and she gritted her teeth, trying to bury the images.

The ground seemed to sway, and she stumbled back, her feet slipping from beneath her as she hit the ground with a solid thud, the impact jarring her spine. The pain in her back drew the air from her lungs. Like a fish out of water, she helplessly gasped for air.

“Ada.” Halsin crouched beside her, his expression warm but serious, his gaze searching. “Do not be afraid, your breath will return. Trust in your body.”

With a painful croak, Ada’s lungs filled again. She tried to sit up, fighting the blush of embarrassment that crept up her neck. Ada went to wipe some sweat from her brow and was relieved to see that her hands were back to their original orange state.

“Fuck,” she rasped between two horrifically rough breaths, “that was terrible. I am sorry, Halsin.”

The druid raised an eyebrow at that. “It was a necessary stumble,” was all the response Ada got. Halsin stood, offering a hand, and Ada gratefully took it.

“I got scared,” she explained, uncomfortable with the silence. She dusted herself off and looked at Halsin, then at the wizard a couple of yards away.

Gale was watching them intently, his eyes alert and piercing—the familiar expression of his interest and fascination.

“It is hard to trust the process. I don’t want to lose myself again, and the pain is scary.” Ada chewed on the inside of her lip. “I found the anger, alright. But then it just kept on burning, kept on growing. I had no control.”

“Just as a gardener has no control over the direction in which sunflowers grow. They follow the sun, as nature intended, little sapling.”

Ada huffed at Halsin’s words. If he kept being this cryptic, she would add him to her list of things that made her angry. What was all that even supposed to mean?

“So, I just let the anger take over?” she challenged.

Halsin shook his head. “No, you let it exist.”

“Yeah, I am going to need a bit more guidance than that, if I’m honest…”

The druid made a humming noise, looking at Ada directly. She hated being this difficult, hated not being able to figure out what to do more intuitively. And the way he kept looking at her made her more and more uneasy.

How is he this calm? Where does he draw all his patience from? And what will happen if he runs out, and I am the reason for it?

“Imagine your anger is a hornet’s nest.” Halsin suggested, “Do not fear it, do not run from it and do not poke it. Acknowledge it is there and just let it buzz. And then, when the shape comes to you, you slowly let it take hold. It is a balance between letting go and staying present.”

Ada tilted her head and looked up at him. She felt reminded of her first driving lessons. She had learned how to start the car, slowly release the clutch, and carefully press the gas pedal so as not to stall the engine or lurch forward.

She sighed deeply. “Alright, let me try again.”

Halsin gave her a slight, approving nod and took a few steps back, allowing her space. His manner was calm as ever, with just a hint of an encouraging smile on his face.

Ada closed her eyes and tried listening to that buzz of anger inside herself again.

She thought of Aradin’s cowardice and how he had left two men behind in the goblin camp without a second thought. She thought of the contemptuous glances that Araddin's companions had cast at the Tieflings, and how Zevlor didn't even seem surprised by them anymore.

It appeared just as hot as it had the first time, the fire in her chest. But instead of stoking it, she just listened to it, trying to hear the logs crackle and pop, the flames hiss as they reached for air.

A shift began in her muscles, a tingle prickling at the base of her spine. But this time, it was less violently painful. She could feel her body changing, her limbs growing heavier, her senses sharpening. The deep humming of magic vibrated up from the ground into her feet and up her legs.

The rough prickle of feathers whispered over her skin, and she felt her muscles stretching. Her skin no longer restricted her bones from elongating, but expanded smoothly. Claws emerged from her hand, just before the transformation forced her down on all fours.

A cold rush filled her as her vision sharpened, colours dimming, yet each shape and movement around her became more vivid and precise. She felt it all: the immense power in her limbs, the strength that thrummed through each muscle, the earth humming beneath her massive claws.

The smoke of the fire curled sharply and acrid in her nares. It smelled like danger. Beneath it, the smell of roasting food, decadent and irresistible. Her stomach growled at these remnants of dinner, and she was surprised when she found her hunger fixated only on the scent of meat.

A whimper drew her eyes. Scratch had scrambled to his feet, tail tucked, ears flat. He barked once, confused and afraid. Ada halted, unsure of herself suddenly. Then, slowly, she lowered her great feathered head. She blinked at him.

“Hey, Scratch. It’s just me.” It was a screech, no discernible words left her beak, but recognition dawned in his eyes. His tail gave a tentative wag.

Ada dared to move then, rolling her shoulders. Power rippled through her like a tide. Muscles bunched and stretched; the faintest breeze teased between her feathers. Her new strength felt exhilarating. Had she wanted to, she could have torn the stones from the mountain’s crown or uprooted trees.

She huffed in delight, feeling it rumble through her, and made a small leap forward. The ground shook beneath her weight, sending loose stones scattering, and she felt a laugh, wild and raw, tremble through her.

Across the camp, Wyll flinched slightly, his eyes widening as he took in her new form, his hands lifting somewhat as if to steady himself.

Halsin watched her, nodding approvingly. “Very good.”

She chuffed again in excitement, feeling the rumble of sound roll from her throat. The ground felt sturdy beneath her, and she wanted to bound forward, to explore every crevice of this new power. For the first time, the wild felt good, rather than an unknown terror waiting to consume her.

Even on all fours, Ada was almost as tall as Halsin now. She stood up to her full height, swaying slightly as she tried to find her balance with her new skeleton.

Halsin suddenly looked small, though still broad-shouldered and strong. But Ada was easily three or four feet taller than him. The feeling of power and strength was intoxicating.

“Halsin, this is awesome!” Ada growled, clawing at the air to flex her arms and get used to the feeling of the muscles in them. Her eyes fixed on Gale who had gotten to his feet and looked up at her open mouthed now. His writing materials lay forgotten on the trunk beside him.

Excitedly, Ada took a couple of steps towards him. She froze as his eyes widened and he took a step back from her. For a moment, the smell of fear surrounded him.

“Don’t be scared. It’s me!” But her words did nothing to change his worried expression.

“He can not understand you, little sapling,” Halsin said from her right. Ada tilted her head at him questioningly.

“You and I can speak with animals.” His hand gestured from himself to her and back again. “But Gale would have to cast a spell to do that. You can understand him, but all he hears is the owlbear.”

Ada’s head turned back to Gale, who was listening to the druid’s explanation attentively. He looked so small from her new height, but he was just as handsome, his eyes shone with intelligence and wit. She could smell him, and even from this distance, there was this mysterious note to him, flowery and cool at the same time.

“Can you tell him it is still me?” Ada asked Halsin softly. “I am not… I did not want to frighten him.”

Halsin obliged, and Gale turned back to Ada, looking up at her and meeting her gaze directly. “You look… imposing.“ his voice was husky, and he swallowed audibly. “Majestic. Splendid, really.” He still looked a little unsure.

He remembers how I ripped apart the goblins. He’s not sure I am really in control. My magic is so unpredictable that it scares him.

Ada carefully lowered her arms back to the ground, crouching to make herself smaller so she was about eye-level with Gale and Halsin. She held still to assure them she was calm. Safe to be around. Ada took a deep breath.

There was a moment of silence in camp, and then Gale made a step towards Ada. Curiosity piqued in her, and she chirped, blinking at him.

He had his hand raised, his palm pointing toward her and his eyes on hers. Ada realised he was testing whether she would let him touch her. She breathed out and dipped her head, hoping he would recognise it as a nod of approval.

When his fingers touched her beak, they felt cold, but still gentle. It took Ada some willpower to keep looking at his face and not squint to follow his hand with her eyes.

Her efforts were immediately rewarded with an unguarded smile from Gale, which made her heart flutter. His hand wandered upwards and brushed the feathers on her forehead, still careful to keep his touch light. He seemed to be taking in every detail of her wildshape.

“I never knew owlbears could be this graceful,” he said softly, “You are impressive, Ada. And dare I say, the feathers really suit you.”

Ada let out a giddy chirp as a wave of comforting warmth flooded her chest. In her excitement, she forgot herself for just a moment.

Her massive body jolted toward Gale. Before she could stop herself, her large feathery head pressed into his right side affectionately. She hooted softly, trying again to share her joy over her achievement with him.

“Ada!” he yelped in surprise, but it quickly turned into laughter.

She had not heard him laugh like that before; such a free and happy sound. Warm and glittering, like sunlight reflecting on a restless surface of water. His hand was on top of her head now, lightly patting the soft and fuzzy plumage that had replaced her pink curls.

As he looked into her eyes, Ada noticed a shift in his. Recognition and appreciation had replaced his earlier reserve. Ada wished she could have reached out a hand to touch his cheek, to tell him how much it meant that he was witnessing this small triumph of hers.

Halsin cleared his throat, and in that moment, Ada was glad owlbears could not blush. She took a step back from Gale and returned to her crouch, levelling her gaze at the druid.

“You did well, Ada.” Halsin inclined his head in appreciation, and Ada mimicked his gesture. “I think it is time you got some rest. We don’t want you falling asleep during meditations in the morning.”

⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡