Tabitha

Saff stared, dumbfounded, as Gale explained what Mystra had told him.

"But… he can't be…" she whispered, trying to get her head around it all.

"'It is not my place to alter another god's creation'. I can't think what else she would mean by this," Gale said, pacing as he ran his hand through his hair. "Malitas is possibly a god, the orb is in fact the Karsite Weave, and Mystra is offering forgiveness and a cure if I bring the crown to her. I think there are few conversations I've had in my life that could claim to be as surprising as this one."

"Well, Mystra offering forgiveness is a good thing, at least!" Saff said, trying to focus on the positives. "You'll be free of the orb by the end of all this!"

"If all goes to plan, yes. I still find that hard to believe, too - the Karsite Weave, within me this whole time! I knew the orb to be no ordinary ball of magic, but for it to be Karsus's malignant creation… gods, how did I not see that??"

"To be fair, there's been a lot of things recently none of us saw coming…" Saff said with a sigh.

"Yes… that is true enough," he muttered, finally coming to a stop and sighing deeply. "I think we need to talk to Saffy… and then to Malitas."

Saffy laughed at first when they told her, until she saw the looks on their faces.

"Wait, you're being serious?" She asked in disbelief, and when they nodded, the smile fell from her lips. "But… but he's not a god, that's ridiculous!"

"Mystra seems to disagree," Gale said, though he shared her incredulity on the matter.

"No way," Saffy insisted, shaking her head. "It's not true. It can't be. I mean… it would all have to be a lie, wouldn't it? Everything he's told us about who he is, his past, his family, even the name Malitas would surely have just been something he made up to appear mortal. Why would he do all that? And why would he stay in the soul cage? Why would he have let himself supposedly get trapped in it in the first place, when a god could easily have killed us all when we fought him. Why would he fake all of this?"

"Some gods like to make avatars to live among mortals as entertainment," Gale suggested, an idea that Saffy seemed repulsed by.

"No… he can't be… as much as I hated him for lying about his relationship with me, I never once thought he was lying about his feelings for you," she said, looking at Saff. "When you were ill… I watched him fall apart trying to help you. He didn't eat, he didn't trance, he could think of nothing else but trying to save you. I cried with him… I saw the look in his eyes when he thought you were going to die…" her voice wavered with emotion as she spoke. "I can't for a second believe that none of that was real."

"Gods do not think the same way mortals do," Gale said, softening his voice when he saw how upset Saffy was getting about this. "If a god wished to pass for a mortal, then faking things such as this would be easy for them."

She shook her head defiantly, refusing to believe this could be true. Saff's heart went out to her - she felt the same way, and knew that Saffy must be feeling the pain even more than her, having been once so close to him.

"We should talk to him," Gale decided. "See if we can get the truth out of him - or something resembling the truth, at least."

Saff agreed, and yet as they ascended the stairs, her anxiety grew with every step. She usually felt nervous enough talking to him as it was, and now the thought that he might be able to release himself from the soul cage at any point and take any sort of revenge on them that he wished was truly a daunting prospect.

After a quick discussion on their approach, the two of them entered.

They found him still chained up in the soul cage, same as before.

"Who was at the door?" He asked as they walked in.

"I think you already know that," Gale answered, prompting a confused look from Malitas. "It's about time you dropped the act and told us who you really are."

The confused look on his face only intensified.

"…Excuse me?"

"Don't drag this out, Malitas," Saff said, trying to keep a straight face and not give away how much of an emotional toll this was taking on her. "If I should even call you Malitas, that is."

"Why wouldn't you call me that? What's happened that's prompted this?" He asked, frowning at them both.

"Mystra told us the truth about you," Gale said, which seemed to only further Malitas's confusion.

"What truth?" He asked.

Saff and Gale glanced at each other, wordlessly agreeing that Gale should be the one to answer that, then looked back at him.

"The truth that you're a god."

His eyes widened, his face turned to shock, then confusion, then disbelief, and then he burst out laughing.

"Oh gods, I didn't expect this to happen so quick, but it seems I've gone mad from the isolation because I could have sworn you just said that Mystra told you I'm a god."

"That… is what she said, yes," Gale said, and Malitas laughed again.

"I appreciate the fact that you both clearly thought I must be in need of entertainment and decided to provide it as I have been terribly bored up here and this shall surely provide enough entertainment to last for weeks."

"Malitas, can you be serious?" Saff scolded, and his laughter died down as he looked at them both.

"Did Mystra seriously tell you this?" He asked.

"She did, yes," Gale answered.

"And you believed her? You honestly think I might be a god? You think that if I had the power to get myself out of this, I wouldn't have done so already? Do you have any idea how unpleasant it is in here? Or do you think I am simply pretending to be captured? To what possible end would I do this? Do you really think that is more likely than the possibility that Mystra is lying to you to manipulate you in the way she has been this whole time? What an utterly ridiculous, ludicrous, preposterous notion that I am quite frankly shocked you two could possibly have thought was true. Honestly, I'm embarrassed for you both."

"I don't believe she was lying," Gale said firmly. "What reason would she have to lie about this?"

"Plenty of reason, I'm sure," Malitas said flippantly, before pausing to actually consider the question. "Under what circumstances did she tell you this? What exactly did she say?"

"She summoned me to tell me to bring the Crown of Karsus to her, and told me that if I do so, I will be cured and forgiven. I told her that I will bring her the crown if, as well as that, she gives Saffy a human body and soul. To which she replied, 'It is not my place to destroy another god's creation, nor is it my place to alter one.'"

Malitas hummed in thought.

"A pity she did not agree to your request. She may be the only one who can grant such a thing to Saffy," he murmured regretfully.

"She did say that if I bring the crown to her she will provide the answers we seek. Perhaps that will include a way to make Saffy human."

"Ah, so she created a mystery you couldn't possibly ignore and promised you the answers to it should you do as she wishes."

"She didn't need to do that to get what she wishes, she needed only agree to my request, which she would surely have no reason to refuse if there was not something preventing her from doing so."

Malitas went quiet once more, mulling over the situation, then voiced his thoughts.

"We don't know how Saffy is sentient. A simulacrum - indeed, any magically created being - is but an illusion of consciousness, bound entirely to its master's bidding. True sentience is something only a god can create."

"So you think a god was involved in making her?" Saff asked when she realised what he was saying. "A god granted her sentience, and this is what Mystra is referring to?"

"Seems more likely than I'm secretly a god, doesn't it?" He said, looking at them as if such a conclusion was obvious. "Or perhaps I am secretly a god, secret even to myself! Though if that were the case, I would have rather liked my divine powers to have revealed themselves when I was murdered."

"Don't try to pull that card again," Gale said, rolling his eyes.

"Very well, but you're not going to convince me to let you both live down the fact that you actually thought I might be a god. Maybe I should take it as a compliment."

"Ok, we get it, you're not a god," Saff said, almost laughing at his indignance.

"I'm glad you finally see sense," he said, then his expression softened slightly. "Did Saffy think I was a god?"

"She didn't," Saff answered, reflecting briefly on their different responses to the revelation. "She refused to believe that everything she'd seen of you was fake."

A small smile came to his lips.

"I'm glad," he said softly. "I'm also glad that Mystra is offering you a cure, Gale."

Gale gave a small nod, acknowledging that Malitas seemed to sound sincere.

"And, Gale…" Malitas continued, the previous sarcasm and flippancy entirely gone from his voice now, "thank you for trying to help Saffy with this. Even if Mystra cannot or will not help her, let us hope the answers she gives will provide a way to do so."

There was a moment of quiet agreement between them, until Malitas spoke again.

"So who was at the door?"

"Elminster," Gale answered, "or a simulacrum of him at least, here to tell me that Mystra will grant me an audience."

"A simulacrum of Elminster?" Malitas asked curiously.

"Yes. Seems Mystra forbade the real Elminster from getting too close, not wanting to risk losing her favourite Chosen to the orb's potential eruption. She doesn't mind losing an entire city, of course…" he muttered bitterly. "The resulting conversation between him and Saffy was an apt reminder of just how different from regular simulacra Saffy is. She will be happy to hear you're not a god - or at least, claim not to be one."

"You still think it might be true?" Malitas laughed, then sighed in resignation. "I suppose it is wise to consider all possibilities, no matter how unlikely or preposterous they are. I look forward to hearing the answers Mystra claims she will give you upon return of the crown."

"As do I," Gale agreed. "To which end, we should get back to our preparations for fighting Gortash… if you're not going to use your secret divine powers to helps us."

Malitas chuckled and shook his head.

"Sadly I won't be, as much as I would like to. But if you release me, I will use every mortal power available to me to fight by your side."

Gale and Saff glanced at each other hesitantly.

"We'll talk to the others," Saff decided, then turned to head to leave. Gale followed her, then waited as she paused at the door.

"I'm glad you're not a god," she said softly, then finally left the room.

Once they were out, Gale gave her a look.

"You know he still could be a god," he warned, but she wasn't fazed.

"I know. But I believe him," she said, heading downstairs.

Saffy was relieved to hear the result of the conversation, and agreed that Malitas's proposal of another god being involved seemed more likely than him being a god himself. The rest of the group had mixed reactions to Mystra's words and Malitas's denial of the implications, but ultimately all agreed on one thing - Malitas was still not to be released until after the Absolute was defeated, at the earliest. And as the next day dawned, they drew ever closer to their goal.

Saffy watched from the window as the group made their way to Wyrm's Rock Fortress to face Gortash, but it wasn't Gortash that was on her mind.

It is not my place to alter another god's creation.

If Malitas was right, if there was a god involved in her creation that granted her sentience… then why? What god would have any interest in a simulacrum?

Assuming Malitas was telling the truth of course, and for once she believed he was. She was almost surprised by how much she'd hated the idea that everything he'd ever done had been a lie, and she realised just how much she wanted some of it to be real, even if it was only some tiny amount…

Part of her wanted to speak to him again. Part of her wanted to never speak to him again. Part of her wanted to demand he answered all her questions, part of her wanted not to give him a chance to weave more lies. All of her feared the moment when he'd be released and she had to make her choice.

As the others disappeared at the end of the street, she knew that moment drew one step closer.

---

The last tenday had been a whirlwind. 

Saff was still clinging to life, despite the clerics’ expectations. The infection wasn't receding, but it also wasn't spreading. It was enough to give her hope she'd pull through. 

And then there was her relationship with Malitas. Getting to know him as a lover rather than a master was an interesting experience. It was a joy, seeing the side of him he'd not shown her before. Every morning she woke to a kiss, and every night she fell asleep in his arms while a book hovered above them for him to while away the hours until he was ready to trance. He could have used that time to do anything else, but he never let her fall asleep alone. One night they'd spent hours in the garden as they'd watched the sunset together, then stargazed until she fell asleep on the grass, her head resting on his shoulder. He surprised her with gifts and filled his bedroom with everything she could ever ask for to make it her bedroom, too. In his most sentimental moments he would whisper words of love in her ear, how she consumed his thoughts, how he could scarcely breathe in her presence, how he yearned for her so strongly he might fall apart without her. Yet the best moments were the ones he didn't even realise he was giving her. The warmth in his voice when he spoke to her that she'd never heard from him before. The way his face lit up when she entered the room in a way she'd seen nothing else elicit from him. The smile that came to his lips when they spoke, a smile he'd never given anyone else. These were the things that truly made her feel loved.

And then, of course, there were the surprises, most of which took place in the bedroom. Despite not being his apprentice anymore, it turned out she still had plenty to learn about magic from him, mostly involving particular uses of certain spells she'd never even considered before. Though the biggest surprise came before all of that, when she ran her hand up inside his shirt while taking it off for the first time and discovered not the soft flesh she'd been expecting, but scales. 

“You're… a sorcerer?” She whispered, staring in shock at the scales that dotted his chest. 

“...Yes,” he admitted in a bit of shock himself, clearly having completely forgotten that this was something he probably should have warned her about. “As well as a wizard, I assure you. I've also studied, just as you have.”

She found it rather amusing that his first thought was to assure her he wasn't fraudulently posing as a wizard, rather than to apologise for not telling her about this earlier and subsequently giving her the shock of her life. 

“Does it… bother you?” He asked nervously, the self-conscious waver in his voice a far cry from the confident man she was used to. 

Slowly she ran her hand down his chest over the scales, getting used to the strange sensation of them beneath her fingers. 

“No,” she answered after a moment, then looked up at him with a smile. “I like it.”

Her lips curled into a smile as the memory came to her, and that smiled widened when the sound of the front door opening downstairs indicated Malitas was back from visiting the temple. Quickly she put down the book she'd been reading and headed down to meet him, hoping he bought good news. He looked up at her as she descended the stairs, and the grin that spread across his could only mean Saff's condition was improving. He hurried over to her, and she was about to ask how Saff was when she was interrupted by him scooping her up into his arms and twirling her around in celebration. She laughed in giddy excitement and looked up at him with a flustered smile when he placed her down.

"I can only assume that means Saff is doing well?" She asked, daring to hope the infection might be receding.

"She is awake!"

Her eyes widened in shock. The most she'd possibly hoped for was was to hear she was starting to heal, she never dreamed Saff might wake up so soon.

"She woke last night," he continued, barely able to contain his excitement nor his disbelief, "the infection is almost completely gone, she is even impatient to get home! The clerics have recommended she stay there a few days so they can monitor her in case the infection returns, but most believe she will be fully healed very soon and are attributing her recovery to their gods, claiming it to be a miracle. I wouldn't be so quick to claim divine intervention myself, but quite frankly, right now I don't care what caused this. She lives!"

He laughed joyously, and her disbelief finally gave way to elation and she joined him, squealing happily as they hugged.

"I can't believe it," she gasped, almost breathless from the excitement, "oh my gods, I can't believe it! She's going to be ok! She'll be home soon!"

"She'll be home soon," he echoed, closing his eyes for a moment as if savouring the words on his tongue, his voice soft as a smile came to his lips…

The same smile he'd only given her before.

That same softness in his voice, that look in his eyes… everything she thought was just for her, she saw in him now as he spoke about Saff. Perhaps even more so, he'd never been this excited about her… had he?

Doubt began to creep in, slowly tainting the edges of her excitement until it started to take over. He'd fallen in love before all this had happened, after all. Of course he was this excited to know Saff would survive, he loved her too… perhaps even more. Wouldn't he love the living, breathing original more than an illusory fake?

“What will happen to me? You don’t need me anymore," she murmured, her doubts and fears getting the better of her. He looked at her in shock, surprised to hear her say such things, but seemed to immediately understand where it was coming from.

“I need you more than you know…” he said softly, a heartfelt honesty in his voice as he took her hand in his and cupped her cheek with his other hand.

“How can you need me so? I am not even-”

“I don’t care what you are or what you’re not," he said firmly, looking into her eyes. "I care only what you mean to me… and you mean everything to me. I love you.”

“Truly?”

“Truly. I cannot be without you.”

The doubts began to subside, replaced by the warmth that always blossomed in her chest whenever he was there.

Everything had been just as Malitas said - a box containing her clone and a table upon which sat a set of clothes, a spare staff, a Potion of Angelic Slumber, a Scroll of Gate, and a letter.

Her eyes followed the lines of her name on the envelope, written in his familiar cursive handwriting. She hadn't expected to be so nervous about this, but now that she held it, she found herself needing a moment to calm the anxiety that roiled in her stomach.

Finally she opened the envelop, took out the letter, and unfolded it.

Saffron,

If you're reading this, I can only assume you have died. I am sorry, firstly for being unable to protect you from this fate, and secondly for the fact that you had to endure such an ordeal. I hope the death was quick and painless, and the nausea does not linger.

You are currently in a demiplane I created to house the clone you have just reincarnated into. Please make use of the clothes and staff, and should you need it, the potion. It will send you to sleep for a few seconds, after which you will awaken with your magic fully replenished. You will also find a Scroll of Gate, which you can use to return whenever you are ready.

As for why you have reincarnated in this way - I created a clone of you when it looked like the infection you were left with after Aryn's attack could prove fatal. Initially you consented to the idea, but when you realised what would be required from you, the fear triggered a flashback. I regret to say that I restrained you and forcibly took what was needed. I should not have done such a thing, but at the time it seemed the only way to save your life. However, even afterwards, you would disassociate whenever you saw me. Unable to care for you like this, I felt I had no choice but to remove the cause of your fear - I erased the memories of what I did to you, after which the dissociation ceased. The memories are hidden behind a Modify Memory spell, and to prevent these memories from being restored unintentionally, I have placed a cover curse on you that stops less powerful curses from being removed.

I should never have done this, and certainly should not have kept it from you for so long. I had hoped to find the right time to tell you, to spare you the pain of finding out this way. I can only apologise, deeply and sincerely. I certainly do not expect forgiveness in any form, and if you wish me out of your life I will not object, but please grant me the chance to speak to you one last time and explain. There is much else that must be said.

Malitas

She felt almost numb as she sighed and leant against the table. How would she have reacted, she wondered, if she'd found out this way? How different things would have been…

She glanced back at the room one more time, then turned and headed out of the portal that swirled on the far wall. Gale awaited her on the other side, back in Malitas's tower, and she gave him a small nod.

"Just as he said," she murmured, leaning against the desk he was standing next to, then holding the letter out for him. He took it and quickly read through it, humming in thought.

"There is much else that must be said. One assumes he's talking about Saffy here," he observed, and she nodded in agreement.

"I thought the same. I guess he really was planning on telling me about her then."

"So it seems… unless he simply wrote that to pique your curiosity and convince you to give him a chance to talk to you and try to earn your forgiveness. He likely knows he can be more convincing in person than in a letter."

She was quiet as she considered that. Perhaps he was right, yet she didn't think so.

"We should get some sleep," she decided, standing up from the desk. "We need to be well rested to face Orin tomorrow."

Of course, she never felt truly well rested these days. Not with the nightmares.

She powered through her tiredness, and soon the familiar sight of the Bhaal temple greeted her eyes once more.

Orin awaited them at the alter, Bhaal's visage looming above them all. The grin that spread across Orin's lips that before instilled such fear in Saff had no such effect on her now. Not with her friends at her back.

"So the frightened little faun returns," she cooed playfully, looking up at them from the alter. "No, not a little faun - a little mouse."

"You're not the first to call me a little mouse," Saff said calmly, her voice echoing off the walls. "He died in his own house," she glanced at the Bhaal temple around them, "surrounded by his followers," she glanced at the Bhaalists that circled her, "convinced he would kill us all."

"My blade is sharper than any devil's," Orin gloated, brandishing her daggers, "and it should have been used to spill your crimson! Your murder would have been exquisite. A crypt-born effigy to greet Bhaal's bleeding dawn. But you fled, little mouse, little faun, little lamb for the slaughter! Little wizard, little druid…" she cocked her head to the side, and a knowing smile spread across her lips, "…little butterfly."

She laughed, manic and crazed.

"Bhaal sees you, he smells her magic on you! Birthed to his enemies, baptised in waters that were once his, waters that once ran red with blood spilled by his hand!"

Saff froze, her eyes widening.

"What…?" She whispered, unable to believe what she was hearing.

"You've escaped him before, but now, now… I will make you the offering you were always meant to be! Your crimson will spill and you shall be slaughtered in Bhaal's name…" her eyes met Saff's, her lips spreading into a sinister smile, "…just like your ancestors."

Saff's eyes widened, but before she could speak, Orin threw her arms out and the stones glowed red beneath her.

"Come to me, Father! Set my flesh to your unholy purpose!"

An unnatural pulse of red magic swirled around Orin, and from her flesh burst forth a creature Saff had only read about before now - four arms, razor-sharp talons and a hundred teeth. The Slayer.

She felt anger boiling through her at the thought of her ancestors, her family, murdered by Bhaalists. She might never know them, but she could avenge them.

She let her anger rise until fur sprouted from her skin, talons burst from her fingers, and the screech of an owlbear echoed through the temple. Orin joined her with a roar of her own, ready for battle. Saff looked down at her prey through avian eyes, and leapt from the parapet.

The two clashed together, a flurry of teeth and talons. She didn't even notice the battle around her between her friends and the cultists - she saw only her target, and let instinct take over.

For a time Orin seemed almost unstoppable, Saff's attacks doing little but glance off the surface of her chitinous skin, until finally shredded flesh fell from her talons and the taste of blood wet her tongue. Once the cultists were dealt with, the others turned their attacks to Orin and at last she fell, screaming as she clawed her away across the ground and her body dissolved to nothing but ashes and blood.

Saff reared up and roared, letting out the last of her anger, before letting the wild shape fall away and standing on human feet once more.

Around her she heard the others celebrating, but she couldn't bring herself to join them. She stared down at the remains of the corpse in front of her, little more than a blood-drenched skeleton. Orin's blade lay in the pool of blood, the netherstone glowing and beckoning to her, yet even that wasn't what lingered on her mind.

"Saff?"

She turned to see Gale approaching her, watching her in concern.

"She knew about my family," she said softly, looking back down at Orin's remains. "She knew who I am… how could she possibly know?"

"If we are to believe her word, Bhaal himself told her. But I would take anything she says with extreme scepticism - she assumed your form, which means she had access to your memories. She will have known you seek knowledge about your family, and could easily have planned to use that against you."

The argument made sense, yet Saff remained unconvinced.

"There must be other information somewhere," she said, glancing down the stairs towards the room that lay beneath the alter. Quickly she headed down, hoping to discover more.

The bedroom they found yielded plenty of information about Orin, but nothing about Saff. They even tried to use Speak with Dead on the two corpses in the room, but the woman they discovered to be Orin's mother had no knowledge of Saff, and the imp that had served as Orin's butler had nothing to say.

They returned to the alter to find the others waiting for them. Saff looked up towards the exit, and only then did she see the other cultists that gathered around the stairs and looked down at them all.

"Why are they just… watching? Why aren't they attacking us?" She asked, feeling a deep unease at all their eyes on her.

"Perhaps because they just saw us kill their strongest member and don't want to face the same fate," Gale reasoned.

"Who cares? They're Bhaalists - they gotta go," Karlach said as she reached for her battle axe, but Halsin was hesitant.

"Bhaalists or not, we shouldn't kill them in cold blood," he reasoned.

"And I don't fancy fighting them all to get out if they're just going to let us walk free," Astarion added.

"We can't just leave them all here," Saff pointed out, "they'll continue killing people in the city."

"I'll tell my father, and he'll alert the Fist," Wyll decided firmly. "They'll be rounded up and punished to the full extent of the law. Not killed in cold blood, but not left to continue their reign of terror."

With that agreed upon and with the netherstone in hand, they left.

At the tower, Saffy was just as surprised to hear the news as Saff had been.

"Birthed to his enemies, baptised in waters that were once his… what does that mean?" She asked, frowning as she tried to figure it out.

"I don't know," Saff said with a sigh. "I've been trying to work it out all the way back."

"'Birthed to his enemies'," Gale considered, stroking his chin. "Sadly that doesn't narrow things down much, Bhaal has plenty of enemies. 'Baptised in waters that were once his' also doesn't help us much, Bhaal's domain has grown and shrunk significantly over the years. Plus, I hasten to remind you, we don't know if anything she says is true."

"That might be the case," Saff said, "but think about what else she said - I have the smell of her magic on me. I don't know who the 'her' she's referring to is, but remember what Withers said about the one that gave me that vision after I died in the Gauntlet of Shar? 'Where I am the dusk, she is the dawn. She watches over thee, and awaits thy return home.' What if they're referring to the same person?"

"That does make for a convincing argument," Gale conceded.

Saff sighed softly and glanced out the window, starting to feel overwhelmed by it all.

"I told Malitas I'd let him know when we defeated Orin," she said eventually, deciding she needed a task to focus on before she lost herself in her thoughts. "I'd best go talk to him."

He seemed relieved to see her when she entered the room.

"She is defeated?" He asked, and she nodded.

"Yes. Wyll is organising the Flaming Fist with his father to arrest the rest of the cultists."

"Well done," he said, and she gave only a small nod in acknowledgement. There was a pause as he watched her. "Something troubles you."

She sighed. Even now she can't seem to hide anything from him.

"Orin seemed to know about me. About who I am. She said I was born to Bhaal's enemies and baptised in waters that were once his."

His eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Curious… did she say how she knew this?"

"It looked like Bhaal told her himself. She said he can smell 'her' magic on me, but didn't say who 'her' was. We've been trying to figure it all out, but… well, Bhaal has a lot of enemies."

He hummed in thought, until his concentration was broken by the ground trembling.

It wasn't the first time they'd experienced one of the quakes, but it was the first time it had been severe enough that the wards protecting the tower began to flash and shimmer.

"They're getting stronger…" Malitas murmured, looking up at the walls and ceiling as dust fell from the ancient bricks.

"The brain is starting to break free without the netherstones to control it," Saff said, glancing around herself at the flickering magic.

"The wards will protect against small tremors like this, but should the quakes grow more intense… I don't know how long they will last," he warned. "They were designed to stop intruders, not natural disasters."

"Then we stop the brain before it gets too powerful," she said decidedly as the quake died down. "We have only Gortash to face next, then we take the fight to the brain."

She could tell he was about to ask to join them for that fight, but he didn't get the chance when he was interrupted by a far more unexpected sound ringing through the tower: the doorbell.

She looked down in the direction of the front door in surprise, wondering who that could possibly be. A visitor for them, or a visitor for Malitas who didn't yet know his fate?

"If it's for me," Malitas said, "do tell them that I'm terribly sorry, but I can't come to the door right now."

She gave him a look, then left the room.

Downstairs she found the others gathering on the stairs in the entrance hall, watching as Gale made his way to the door.

"Maybe I should answer," she offered as he looked through the peep hole. "I do live here, after all."

He looked back at her with a grin.

"Ah, but I don't think it's for you," he said, then quickly swung the door open to reveal a bearded old man she didn't recognise.

"Elminster!" Gale greeted enthusiastically.

"Ah, Gale! I was just here enjoying the fresh Baldurian air-"

"Elminster, I have a matter I think you can help us with."

"I am here on a rather important matter myself, in fact-"

"How much do you know about simuacra?"

Elminster paused, surprised by the question.

"What knowledge on the subject of simulacra is it that you wish to know?"

"Do you know a way to turn a simulacrum human? Or, failing that, a way to break a master's control over their simulacrum?"

Behind him Saffy leaned forward where she was stood on the stairs with the others, eager to hear the answer.

"My my, quite the question, m'boy," Elminster said with a chuckle. "I'm afraid if such a thing is possible, it is perhaps the one piece of knowledge I would not have access to, being a simulacrum myself."

Gale's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Wha-… what?" He whispered in shock.

"Well Mystra would hardly let her most valued Chosen go near destructive power of the sort within your chest, would she now?" Elminster reasoned, unfazed by how dismayed Gale clearly was by this.

"So, our conversation in the mountains…?"

"That was with me, not him, yes. But I assure you Gale, he knows what was said."

That did little to assuage Gale, who looked away bitterly. Strained as it may have been at first, that conversation between them had been important to him. A moment of bonding, of understanding. To hear that it had not actually been with Elminster at all, and that he'd been led to believe it was Elminster when it wasn't, didn't sit well with him. But that was a conversation to have with the real Elminster, not his simulacrum.

He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Saffy approaching, looking at Elminster with wide, curious eyes.

"You're a simulacrum of Elminster Aumar?" She asked, shocked to get the opportunity to such a person.

"I am indeed."

"And you were sent here because it was too dangerous for Elminster himself to come?"

"That is so."

"And doesn't that anger you?"

Elminster looked surprised by the question.

"Now why would that anger me?"

"Because you've had your life taken from you! You might be a simulacrum but you're still Elminster, you still have all your memories, all your hopes and dreams, but you can never fulfil them because you were created to be used as fodder on a quest that has a high likelihood of getting you killed! And now you have to watch while someone else lives out your life, and you have no choice but to follow orders and be a slave. How can that not anger you?"

Despite her impassioned speech, Elminster just chuckled.

"I am but a humble simulacrum, this is what I was created for."

Saffy could hardly believe what she was hearing.

"And when this is all over and you've played your part, what happens to you then?"

"Elminster will either find a new use for me, or will destroy me, I imagine."

"So that's it?" She asked, her voice beginning to waver from the emotions of seeing someone so content with being created just to be killed. "After everything you've done, after the life you've led, you're fine with this being how it all ends? You're fine with him just killing you because he has no more use for you?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"You are the simulacrum Gale wishes to help, I assume? And you are bothered by your master potentially doing this to you?" He asked.

"Of course I am!" She gasped, unable to comprehend how someone could react like him.

He stroked his chin in contemplation.

"Curious," he murmured, deep in thought.

"Do you have any idea how she could be like this?" Gale asked, looking from Elminster to Saffy, then back to him. "How she can be so… alive?"

The simulacrum sighed and shook his head.

"Alas, simulacra are created with only passing knowledge of the spell used to create them. If we knew how to break free of our master's commands and were given the desire to do so, then the spell would be quite useless indeed!"

He chuckled, then looked at Saffy sympathetically.

"I'm afraid I cannot help you."

Saffy nodded despondently and stepped back slightly.

"So why are you here?" Gale asked, frustrated both by Elminster's deception and the simulacrum's inability to help Saffy.

"Mystra knows you defied her Gale. Of course she knows - she's Mystra! She bids you come to her holy shrine in the Stormshore Tabernacle. There, she will grant you an audience at last."

"Mystra's willing to speak to me again?" Gale couldn't help but wonder if Elminster had a hand in this, though only the real Elminster would know the answer to that question.

"She is, and I urge you to hear her out. Trust in yourself, Gale. Trust in the Weave. If you are willing, trust in Mystra. There is a conclusion yet to be written in sorry tale, Gale of Waterdeep, and yours is the quill that will write it."

With those ominous words, the simulacrum disappeared in a puff of magic.

Gale sighed and closed the door, then turned back to the others.

"So all it took to get her attention was to learn how to reforge an artefact that once destroyed her. Obvious, when you stop to think about it."

"Do you think she's going to remove the orb?" Saffy asked hopefully, but Gale didn't look confident.

"After refusing her orders, I doubt it. She's hardly going to want to reward me for such defiance. But it's a conversation that's long overdue on both sides. I owe it to her to hear her out, come what may afterwards."

"I don't think you owe her anything..." Saff muttered, folding her arms, before sighing in resignation. "But I agree you should go. Tell her you're going to find a different way to destroy the crown and ask that she removes the orb in exchange."

"Don't ask," Astarion said, looking down from the stairs where he stood with the others. "Demand."

That word echoed through Gale's head as he stood in front of Mystra's statue that afternoon, feeling the charge of Weave in the air, swirling around her stone likeness.

He stared up at the statue, taking a deep breath to gather his courage. One deep breath turned to several, until Saff took his hand in hers.

"You can do this, Gale," she encouraged, squeezing his hand.

"Can I?" He said flippantly, and she gave him a nod. "You're right. I'm a strong, capable wizard. And this is no more than a casual reunion with an ex-lover. My omnipotent, omniscient ex-lover…"

"At least she's probably not going to try to set you on fire," Saff muttered before she really realised what she was saying. "Sorry, that was a bit dark," she said quickly when Gale looked at her in surprise.

"Sometimes gallows humour is the best approach to a situation like this," Gale reasoned, then took yet another deep breath and focused on his task again. "I always wondered what being nervous would feel like," he mused, looking up at the statue. "I hate it."

"This is not the first time you've ever been nervous," she laughed, shaking her head.

"It's the first time I've been this nervous. Or perhaps it's a different kind of nervous to every previous time… regardless, it isn't a feeling I'm enjoying."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, you're going there to tell her what she probably wants to hear - that you have a plan to destroy the brain, and that you have no intentions of using the crown yourself. Right?" She said firmly, the last word more a threat than a question.

"Right. Most certainly," he said quickly. "I can assure you I hold no delusions about that particular path anymore."

"Good. Then she has nothing to be angry at you for."

"Hmm… time will tell if that's true," he murmured, looking over at the statue. "I'd best get to it, Mystra is a patient goddess but she won't wait forever, and standing around isn't going to make my decision on what to say to her any easier. Unless you have any words of wisdom to impart before I go?"

She went quiet for a moment, considering their options.

"Just… say what will make her happy, even if you don't mean it. Unless she asks something terrible of you again, say whatever you have to say to get her to take that thing out of you," she said, nodding to the marking on his chest.

"Hmm, a more deceptive approach than I would have expected from you," he said in surprise.

"Believe me, I wish we could just tell her where to shove it," she said with a chuckle. "But… I know that sometimes, with people like this, you have to say whatever they want to hear until you're safe."

There was a moment between them, an unspoken silence that marked their shared experience.

He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to her fingers, then finally stepped back and looked up at the statue.

"I'll only be gone for a matter of moments. The Outer Planes experience time quite differently to our own." He continued to look at the statue for a moment, a pained wince coming to his face. "Wait for me. Please."

"Of course," she said quickly, pulling him into a hug. He tightly hugged her back, holding her for a long moment, before finally turning to the statue.

He reached out, Weave gathered around him, and with a flash he was gone.

The Outer Planes were very bit as beautiful as Gale remembered them, though that beauty did not come with the sense of calm and warmth that it had done before.

Then with a flash of magic she was in front of him again - the woman that had once meant everything to him. The woman that had condemned him to death.

"Gale of Waterdeep. You look well."

"As do you," he said, following Saff's advice, but unable to bring himself to say anything more flattering than that.

"Tactful as ever. But now it is only your candour I require."

Candour. Had she heard what Saff had said?

"I've been watching your journey here," she continued, her voice echoing into eternity in the way that only a goddess's can. "Your triumphs. Your temptations. Your doubts. You discovered what lies at the Heart of the Absolute - the Crown of Karsus - and you disobeyed my instruction. Why?"

There were so many answers he could give to that, but there was only one that came to his lips now.

"Because I have someone else to live for."

She didn't look impressed by that.

"I know. Your union is one I find surprising, but you are your own man and it is not the worst choice you have made, after all."

"Why do you find it surprising?" He asked, narrowing his eyes.

"You had the opportunity for so much more, yet you chose a mortal. A not particularly powerful mortal, at that. But that is not what we're here to discuss, there are more important matters at hand, at time runs ever short. Do you understand why I severed our connection?"

He had many things he wished to say in response to that, but held his tongue from letting slip some of the more blunt answers he could give.

"A punishment for my reckless actions," he said diplomatically.

"How so? You think I should have cured you? Erased the consequences of your actions?" She challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, if not for me, then for the thousands that would have died had it erupted," he argued, his tone perhaps less diplomatic than he would have liked. Mystra seemed unbothered by his argument.

"Such eddies are unexceptional. Souls arrive and depart your plane with every tide, in circumstances just and unjust. The Weave cannot be lost because we are unwilling to cause a ripple. And that is what is at stake here."

Gale seethed, angered by her casual dismissal of the importance of mortal life. If he needed any more proof of how expendable gods saw their followers, this was it.

"Your anger will help no one," she said calmly, noticing his demeanour. "The past cannot be undone with rage, nor can a future be forged. Only with the truth will you see the way ahead. The fragment of magic you tried to return to me was not of my creation. It was the Karsite Weave. It is a corrupted, half-born magic wrought in the brief moment Karsus ascended to godhood. It hungers for power just as he did, and it can never be sated. You unleashed something that would consume all magic in existence, and yet you thought only of preserving yourself."

He tried to keep his shock at hearing the truth of what lay in his chest hidden. He understood now what she feared so much - with the crown, he could learn to control it, and he would have in his hands a new type of magic that Mystra had no control over… or in trying to do so, he would bring about the destruction of his people, just like Karsus.

"I thought of preserving everyone around me. You may not care about mortal lives, but I do. If you hadn't stripped me of my abilities, I could have put things right."

She looked almost surprised by that answer.

"I did no such thing, Gale. When the Karsite Weave entered your body, your gifts were the first thing it consumed. The only reason the 'orb' sleeps is because I have allowed it to feed on the true Weave - a temporary measure, but one that will not be enough to save us. With each day that passes, the elder brain threatens to become a new kind of god, its worshippers a scourge of soulless illithids. If you will not use the orb to end this abomination, then you must find a way to separate Crown and host. When you've done this, you must surrender the Crown of Karsus to me. Perform this service, and I will see you cured. You will be forgiven."

It seemed almost too easy. He had no wish to use the crown himself, and giving it to Mystra would ensure it could never again be used in the way it was now. Yet she was offering him a cure and forgiveness - a substantial reward for his service. Substantial enough that he could only conclude this meant she still feared he would use the crown against her, and didn't know that he'd already decided against that.

"You're the mother of all magic, the Weave incarnate. Can't you just destroy the Crown yourself?"

"It is not my place to destroy another god's creation, however temporarily he joined the pantheon. It must be you, Gale. You are the one who carries Karsus's power within you. You are the only one who can."

Exactly the answer he'd been hoping for.

"You understand what you are asking me to give up by doing this. The possibility of becoming a god myself."

"Crown yourself, Gale Dekarios, and you will learn what it is to carry such weight upon your shoulders. If it does not crush you, I will."

"Perhaps you will, perhaps you won't. But grant me one last boon and I give you my word I will bring the crown to you, and we will never have to find out how that clash would end."

"You would ask for more of me?" She said, unimpressed.

"A trifling matter for you, but very important to me. I have a friend - a simulacrum. Grant her a human body, a human soul, and I will deliver the crown to you."

She watched him for a long moment.

"It is not my place to destroy another god's creation… nor is it my place to alter one."

Gale froze, his mind grinding to a halt at the implications of Mystra's words.

"But," she continued, "if you bring me the crown, I will give you the answers you seek."

For a moment he couldn't answer, until he managed to push his surprise away just long enough to give her a nod.

"Very well. The next time we meet, I will bring you the Crown."

For the first time, a smile came to her lips.

"Thank you. May the Weave's light guide your purpose, and its wisdom guide your hand. The future of magic rests on your shoulders, Gale of Waterdeep. I promise you - it is a burden you are strong enough to bear."

Magic flared and Weave gathered once more, and with a flash he was back in the Stormshore Tabernacle.

"Gale!" Saff gasped happily, pulling him into a tight hug. "How was it?"

At first he didn't answer, he simply stared wide-eyed at Mystra's statue.

"…Gale?" She asked nervously, fearing what would produce such a reaction from him.

"I…" he started, his voice shaking from shock. "I think…"

He finally pried his eyes from the statue and looked at Saff.

The Steel Watch Foundry loomed over the horizon of the city, a foreboding visual cacophony of stone and steel that cast all those that stood beneath it under a shadow of tyranny, until they blew it up.

The ground shook as they fled the building, and the resulting explosion was loud enough for the entire city to hear. Saff winced against the sun as she looked up at the smoke that billowed into the sky, a symbol to all that Gortash was not untouchable.

Around them the Gondians celebrated, tearing off their collars and tearfully reuniting with their families.

Then, clapping.

"That was a hell of a show, my friends!" Wulbren congratulated, emerging with his fellow Ironhand gnomes from the streets. "Watchers collapse in the street as we speak, and the Foundry? Well, it won't stain this beautiful city with its abominations - not anymore."

Saff was about to cheerfully greet him, until she saw his smile fall.

"But it's not over - so long as a single parasitic Gondian remains, Baldur's Gate is under threat."

"Enough, Wulbren!" Cried Zanner Toobin, the blinded Gondian who'd helped them take down the foundry. "Gortash enslaved us, forced us to build his Steel Watchers - but no more. Take the city, let the Ironhands reign supreme. I just wish to go home, and to hold my daughter."

"Please," Wulbren spat. "Just want to go home? If a Gondian told me the sky was blue, I'd look outside and check. You Gondians will lie, scheme, and torment this city until your dying breaths. Let's end this."

"What??" Saff gasped in disbelief. "Your people were enslaved, too! The Absolutists forced you all to work for them, just as Gortash forced the Gondians to work for him. You both went through the same thing!"

"The Ironhand gnomes were not creating instruments of tyranny!" Wulbren argued, turning on Saff.

"It was all to the same end! It was still for the Absolutists!" She insisted, shocked that he couldn't see the truth of the matter.

"You don't know of what you speak. And aside from that, I doubt they were even enslaved at all. Gondians will do anything for their own gain," Wulbren insisted, glaring towards Zanner and the others.

"Wulbren, enough!" Barcus's voice cut through the argument. "I won't watch as you poison your soul, and the brilliant future that remains to the Ironhand gnomes. I thought the Ironhand gnomes had corrupted you, Wulbren. Now I wonder if it wasn't the other way around. Kill the Gondians, and you kill all we love: collaboration. Challenge. Solving problems with the power of reason, creativity, and invention. I still want to believe you're better than that Wulbren, but even I am having my doubts."

Saff felt her anger beginning to dissipate at Barcus's words, replaced now with hope. She found him inspiring - inspiring enough to lead.

"I think the Ironhand gnomes need a new leader," she declared. "What do you say, Barcus?"

"Hah!" Wulbren laughed before Barcus got a chance to answer. "Barcus, lead the Ironhands? Barcus couldn't lead a rothé to a moss field!"

She turned to him, her fists clenching as anger flared within her once more.

"And you would lead the Ironhands to genocide," she growled, narrowing her eyes.

"I would, if that's what's needed. Where's that other wizard of yours? He knew how to deal with threats when he incinerated the Absolutists. Malitas, that was his name! I'm sure he'd understand what needs to be done now."

"He's dead," she spat, much to Wulbren's surprise.

"By Gaerdal, what manner of foe was able to best a man of his talents?"

"I was," she seethed as she stalked towards him, fists clenched and eyes dark with fury. "I wild shaped into an owlbear and mauled him to death while he screamed. If you don't want the same thing to happen to you, I suggest you leave. Now."

For a moment his eyes widened in shocked, before narrowing in disdain.

"I thought you a rebel in arms. I see now you were but a snake, waiting for its moment to strike. Keep your precious Gondians - but know that I will not rest until this city is rid of them and their bootlickers. When the day comes, my hammer will find your skulls and crack them wide open. Ironhands, move out!"

He turned and began to storm off, until he realised the rest of the Ironhands were hesitating, glancing towards Barcus.

"I think the others agree with Saff," Barcus said, looking at the Ironhands, then turning to Wulbren. "They deserve a leader who'll encourage them to create, not destroy. They deserve someone like me."

"This is ridiculous!" Wulbren shouted indignantly. "Ironhands, kill this man!"

There was a moment of tension as the Ironhands looked at Barcus, contemplating, before finally stowing their weapons.

"How dare you - cowards!" Wulbren yelled in anger, but despite his outburst, he could not get the Ironhands to rally to him. The Gondians declared for Barcus, and with a final threat, Wulbren left.

As the tension faded and the Gondians returned to their celebrations, Saff felt her anger dissipate to a simmering anxiety in the pit of her stomach. She didn't feel good about what she'd just done. It seemed to have worked out for the best, but threatening someone like that didn't feel right to her. She hadn't even really intended it - it had come out before she'd even realised what she was saying. It was worryingly close to how she felt with Aryn, and she saw the same anger in Saffy when she spoke of wanting revenge on Malitas. It left her feeling deeply uncomfortable, though Gale seemed to have a different view on things.

"Bravo, Saff!" He celebrated, clapping as he walked up to her. "What a performance!"

"Yeah!" Karlach agreed, pumping her fist into the air. "You showed that dickhead what's coming to him!"

"A happy ending all round I'd say, thanks to you," Wyll added, looking at the scene of celebration around them with a smile.

"You think?" She asked them all in surprise. "That didn't feel great…"

"Hey, sometimes you gotta put assholes in their place," Karlach said with a shrug. "I think the only sad thing about all this is that you didn't actually turn into an owlbear and rip him to bits!"

"Now now Karlach, no need to resort to violence when we don't need to," Gale warned, "but aside from that, I agree with the sentiment. A well-placed threat can sometimes be just what's needed."

"If I may?" They turned to see Barcus, lingering at the edge of their group. "I couldn't help but overhear, and I agree wholeheartedly. Wulbren needed someone to talk him down, and I'm not sure any other approach would have got through to him. Had you not done that, this may not be the scene of celebration it is now. And, on a personal note, thank you for your encouragement. I needed it. And have done since the day we met."

Saff felt her unease begin to fade at their reassurances and a smile came to her lips.

"You'll be a great leader to them, Barcus. You're exactly what they need."

"Thank you, truly. I may have lost Wulbren, but I found a far more preferable ally. Friend, even."

"Friend indeed," she agreed happily. Barcus returned her smile, but he clearly had something else on his mind as he shifted on his feet.

"If I may ask - what you said about Malitas. Was that true?"

She looked away slightly, her smile fading once more.

"Yes," she answered quietly. There was a moment of mournful quiet between them.

"Then I can only assume you too know what it is to witness an old friend become someone you don't recognise. I'm sorry."

His words lingered with her as they returned to the tower.

They spent much of that evening drawing up plans to face Orin. Now that Saff and Gale knew where the Bhaal temple was, there was nothing stopping them attacking. It was decided the whole group would go - if they were to get in a fight with the entirety of Bhaal's followers, they'd need all the help they could get.

Nighttime found Saff curled up in the covers of her bed, idly tapping her quill against the empty page in front of her. She usually found the hour or two before bed to be a good time for filling out the birthday present she'd given to Gale - the notebook detailing their adventure together. They'd both been slowly adding to it, going into great detail about the early stages of their friendship. The background noise of her friends chatting, the crackle of the fire, the occasional excited bark from Scratch or the owlbear cub, all helped bring a calm comfort to her that usually helped her write. But tonight, she found herself unable to commit pen to paper.

She looked up with a smile when she saw Gale approaching, and happily cuddled up to him as he sat down with her.

"How goes the writing?" He asked, wrapping an arm around her.

"Slow," she answered with a sigh, showing him the empty page. "In fact, not just slow, but stalled entirely."

"Writer's block is it? What are you struggling with?"

She flipped the page back to show him what she'd got to, and he quickly realised what the problem was. The page detailed the morning after the tiefling party, travelling towards the mountain pass and through the blighted village - where they met Malitas.

"Ah," he sympathised, reading the last sentence describing Astarion hearing someone approaching.

"I used to know exactly what I was going to write for this. About how you both started out against each other, then became friends. But now… now I just don't know."

She flipped the book shut and put it aside, choosing instead to curl up into his arms.

"I feel so conflicted about everything recently."

"Am I right in thinking this includes today's events?" He asked, and she barely needed to give a nod for him to know he was correct. "Saff, listen to me," he said, lifting her chin with his finger to meet her eyes. "It's ok to be angry with those that have hurt us, or wish to hurt others. That anger helps protect us. That anger has protected you from Aryn, saved us all when Malitas would likely otherwise have blown us all up with the orb, and it spirited both of us out of Orin's clutches to safety. And today, it prevented what could have been a tragic fight. So don't be ashamed. Anger is only dangerous when it threatens to overwhelm us, and I more than anyone know that your heart is filled not with anger, but with love."

She chuckled softly, her nerves melting to a smile.

"You always know when I need a cheesy speech to feel better, don't you?"

"I do, and I am always happy to provide."

They came together in a kiss, his fingers gently stroking across her cheek. Had they not been in the same room as everyone else she might have taken the kiss further, but for now she instead curled up into his arms once more when they parted, resting her head on his chest.

"Thank you," she said softly, closing her eyes and allowing herself a moment of calm as she listened to the gentle beat of his heart. "Though sadly this doesn't help with figuring out what to write about Malitas."

"Heh, that may be a harder problem to solve. I admit, I'm approaching that point in my own account, and I'm similarly stumped as to how to write it."

She hummed in thought, lightly drumming her fingers against his chest, until she sat up.

"Does the teleportation circle still work?"

"To the Shar temple? Yes, it does. Why?"

"Because I should talk to him," she said as she stood up, "but there's something I need to do first."

It was late by the time she was ready, and she took a moment outside his door to steel herself before heading in.

He looked up at her as she entered, his movements accompanied by the soft clink of chains.

"Saffron," he said, a moment of surprise melting to a smile of relief. "I'm glad to see you're ok. Arabella told me what Orin did to you."

"Yes… she said she'd chatted to you. I should have expected her to sneak off, I suppose."

"Is she still here?" He asked, a clear tone of hope in his voice which she dashed with a shake of her head.

"No, she left again. I had hoped she wouldn't, but I don't think there's any way we could have convinced her to stay."

"I see," he murmured with a sigh. "At least she seems to be capable of defending herself."

"Defending herself and others, as I'm sure she told you."

"Heh, yes, she did. She was rightfully proud of rescuing you both. And I'm very grateful to her for doing so."

"So am I," she said softly. There was a moment of quiet, before he spoke again, his voice hushed.

"Saffron… she also told me you were wearing no clothes when she found you…" he started, and she could see the concern in his eyes.

"I hadn't yet learnt to take my clothes with me when I wild shaped," she explained, and the nervousness faded from him.

"That is a relief to hear. I had feared they'd done something far worse than just kidnap you."

"They tried."

He looked at her in shock, the concern returning to his eyes.

"I wild shaped into an owlbear and mauled them before they could mange it."

He almost had to laugh.

"An appropriate fate for such men."

There were a number of comments she could have made in response to that, but she chose not to.

"We plan to take the fight to Orin tomorrow. If we're doing that… there's a chance I might need the clone you made of me."

She saw him wince. When Gale had asked him about this, Malitas had tried to strike a bargain, saying he'd only tell them where her clone was if they released him from the soul cage. She had a feeling he'd have a much harder time refusing the question if she was the one asking it.

"You don't need to know where it is for the spell to work. If you die you will reincarnate and you will find everything you need there to return to the fight."

"If it's of no advantage to us to know where it is, then why keep it secret? It's hardly much of a bargaining chip," she reasoned. He hesitated, holding his gaze away from her.

"Because if you know where your clone is, then you are one step closer to working out where my clones are, and one step closer to permanently killing me."

"I don't want to kill you."

There was an emotion in her tone that almost left her voice cracking as she spoke that sentence. He looked up at her, seemingly almost hesitant to believe her words.

"I just want things to go back to how they were," she continued, trying to keep her voice steady. "I don't know if that can ever happen, but if it can, the first step towards that is you telling me where my clone is. You did this to me without my consent, and I have a right to know."

He looked away, wincing with indecision. Finally, after a long moment, he sighed.

"It is in a demiplane. There are Scrolls of Demiplane in the library that you can use to access it. It is a square room, made of stone, containing a large wooden box within which is your clone. The room also contains a wooden table, a set of clothes, a spare staff, a Potion of Angelic Slumber, a Scroll of Gate and a letter explaining everything."

If he kept his own clones stored in the same way then that certainly explained why Gale hadn't been able to find them despite searching every inch of the tower. It was a clever tactic - store the clones in demiplanes and there was no risk of anything destroying them, whether that be intrepid adventurers, vengeful enemies or natural disasters. But she also understood why he was hesitant to tell them this - one need only know the contents of another's demiplane to be able to reach it with the spell, so if his clones were stored in demiplanes similar to hers, there was a chance they'd be able to find them all. Not that she intended to destroy his clones as he feared.

"A Potion of Angelic Slumber?" She asked curiously. The rest of the items made sense, but that one surprised her.

"Yes. Our magic is tied to our souls, if we die having exhausted our magic then we reincarnate into a clone with our magic still exhausted. The potion remedies this."

"Clever," she commented, though he didn't seem very interested in the compliment. He was tense, nervous - he knew exactly what he'd potentially let himself in for.

"I'm not going to destroy your clones, Malitas," she said firmly.

"What are you going to do with me?" He asked, looking up at her once more.

"The others don't want to release you until the Elder Brain is defeated, but after that we'll see where we stand."

"And what is your plan for defeating the Elder Brain?" He asked, a look of suspicion crossing his face. "Did you speak to Gale about the crown?"

"I did. He won't use it to ascend," she said simply, deciding not to go into any more detail about that. He breathed a sigh of relief, and she was glad he didn't try to get more information on the subject.

There was a moment of quiet, before she spoke again.

"Malitas, can I ask you something?"

"Very well."

"When did you learn to make clones?"

He seemed rather confused by the question, but answered it nonetheless.

"Centuries ago. I must have been… 200? 250? I got into the habit of making one every few months. I have dozens, just in case."

"When one makes a clone, they can make it any age they wish. One can effectively remain young forever," she pointed out, and he frowned in confusion.

"Are you asking why I don't kill myself every few centuries to remain looking young?" He asked, sounding rather repulsed by such an idea.

"I'm asking… why you didn't save your family," she said, and his eyes widened in surprise at the question. "You could have kept them alive. They could still be here with you. When you spoke about them before, you sounded as if you'd have done anything to still be with them. Why didn't you?"

She understood such a question might be difficult for him to answer, and that he might refuse to do so, but she waited for his answer regardless.

"They… didn't want it," he said eventually, his voice thick with emotion. "I offered, but they refused."

"Why? Isn't that what most people would want?" She asked, surprised to hear that answer.

"Most people, perhaps. But Emily… she grew up on a farm deep in the countryside, surrounded by animals. If she were to learn magic, I imagine she'd have been a druid. She was very in touch with nature, and highly respected the natural order of things. She didn't want to break that. She saw artificially extending one's life as being wrong. I think she inspired Aravissa to see things the same way."

"Do you wish they'd accepted your offer?"

For a moment he didn't answer, deep in thought as he glanced away.

"Sometimes I do, when I miss them most. But they made the right decision."

"You think they made the right decision? Yet you don't follow that yourself."

He looked back at her with a raised eyebrow.

"What makes you think I don't follow that myself?"

"You have dozens of clones! Why do that unless you're chasing immortality?"

"To prevent a premature death," he explained. "I don't want to live forever, but I do want to live a full life. You may have noticed that when I reincarnated I didn't look any different, despite the clones I reincarnated into being created centuries ago. As you said, when one creates a clone it is possible to choose the age of that clone. I instead altered the spell to make my clones age with me, and when my time comes and I am to die of old age, I will destroy the remaining clones and allow nature to run its course. Or perhaps I won't, perhaps I will succumb to fear and will choose to continue living. But I hope not."

"Why do you hope not? Do you agree with Emily, you don't want to break the natural order?"

"Yes… because she's right," he said firmly, looking up at her. "You have seen as well as I have what becomes of those who seek immortality. Balthazar became an abomination in both body and spirit, barley recognisable as the man I once called my closest friend. Ketheric turned against everything he once held dear until even his own daughter was forced to fight against him. And they achieved only, what? Two, three hundred years? What happens when one lives for millennia? I have met Halaster Blackcloak, the Mad Mage of Waterdeep. He has so many clones and simulacra even they don't know which the real one is anymore. Perhaps the 'real' Halaster was lost centuries ago, the remains of his mind shattered by a life no mortal was meant to lead. The only people I have heard of that lived centuries longer than they should and remained themselves are those like Elminster, whose immortality was granted to them by the gods. Those that sought it through mortal means suffered the consequences - their minds deteriorated and they lost themselves. I do not wish to become someone that would be unrecognisable to even to those that were closest to me. My wife, my daughter… all I have left of them now are my memories, and despite my best efforts, I know even now that I remember less of Emily than I did a century ago…"

He hung his head, his voice wavering.

"I don't want to forget them…"

She'd wanted to remain stoic through this conversation, but couldn't help the way her heart ached at his words. She thought of Astarion, how he'd spoken before about all the aspects of his old life that were lost to the past. How heartbreaking the thought of forgetting one's family was.

She walked forward and knelt down in front of Malitas, then reached into her pocket and carefully pulled something out.

"I went back down to the Shar temple earlier. I figured I should pick these up, before some adventurer finds them and sells them on, and you can never find them again."

She opened her hands to show him the two wedding rings she held, connected by a thin, gold chain.

His eyes widened, and even in his ethereal state, she could see the tears that welled within them.

"Saffron…" he whispered, his voice cracking, before he finally closed his eyes and let the tears fall. "Thank you…"

She gave him a small smile, then stood and walked over to the bed. Even with just a glance it was very clear which side of the bed had been his and which had been Saffy's - both sides had a small bedside table, one of which had nothing on it, the other of which had a pile of books, a candle and a potted plant on it. She walked over to his side and carefully placed the rings down on the empty table.

"I truly appreciate this," he said gratefully. "Especially as I imagine it can't have been pleasant retrieving those from what must by now be a decomposing body."

"I tried not to breathe in," she said with a small chuckle as she turned back to him.

As she turned back she glanced around the room and realised just how much of what was in there belonged to Saffy. There was a dressing table covered in a selection of make up, hair products and nail varnishes. Though, oddly enough, none of it looked like it had been used very much. There were a handful of plants around the room, which was clearly Saffy's doing given Malitas had no interest in houseplants. A dress was slung over the top of one of the wardrobe doors, probably with the intention of having been put away properly at some point, until Astarion had found her and everything had changed.

"Strange to think if I'd have come up here at any point in the last two years, I would have seen all Saffy's stuff," she said, walking back towards him.

"There was a reason I kept the door locked," he murmured.

"You kept her locked in here?"

"She could leave," he said quickly, "she had a key. The lock was to stop you, and anyone else, from finding her."

"She might not have been physically locked in, but when I was around she couldn't go into the rest of the tower in case I saw her. She was still effectively trapped in here. Her entire life was in this room…"

Malitas had no objection to that. He hung his head, wincing at the truth of her words.

"You claimed to love her, but there was so much you could have done for her. You could have taken her places, could have given her a life rather than just leaving her to wallow here day in day out."

"You're right," he said quietly, his voice full of regret. "I could have done. I should have done."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because part of me thought I should keep some distance in the relationship. I thought that would be more respectful to you, until you knew the truth. As bad as "I've secretly made a simulacrum of you and have been in a relationship with her" sounded, "I've secretly made a simulacrum of you and have been in a relationship with her and taken her on holidays and bought her a house and treated her like a princess" would have sounded worse."

"Treated her like a princess?" She echoed in surprise. "Is that what you wanted to do?"

"Perhaps a bit of a childish way of phrasing it, but… I had so many places I wanted to take her, things I wanted to show her, a life I wanted to live with her…"

His voice cracked and wavered, despite his best attempts at controlling his emotions.

"I thought she felt the same…" he whispered, hanging his head.

She did feel the same, Saff thought to herself. She realised Malitas didn't know this - he still believed Saffy had never loved him, and had been forced into the relationship from the start. She wondered if she should tell him… and she wondered if learning the truth would bring him comfort, or make it hurt more.

"How is she?" He asked, looking at her almost pleadingly.

"She has a lot to recover from, but she's doing better than she was."

He nodded slowly, trying to hold back his tears.

"I… I know my word means little now, and I know a mere apology can do nothing to fix what I've done to her. But… please… tell her I'm sorry. Tell her that I meant every word I ever said to her. Tell her… if she wishes never to see me again, then if I am released I will leave and I will never bother her again. But if there is anything I can do, anything she would wish of me, then tell me and it will be done. I don't expect to be able to fully make it up to her or earn her trust back, but if there's anything that can help her in any way, if it is within my power I will do it."

"There is one thing you can do for her."

He looked at Saff hopefully, though Saff knew that what she was about to suggest was easier said than done.

"Release her from your commands."

"My… commands?" He asked in confusion.

"You told her never to leave the tower in case someone saw her, so now she can't leave. She might not be trapped in this room anymore, but being trapped in the tower isn't much better. You told her not to touch anyone because they might notice she's colder than she should be and realise what she is. So she can't even hug anyone. The only way we can currently break these commands is with Dominate Person, but that's only temporary. If you want to help her, rescind your commands."

"Then I rescind them!" He said quickly, looking quite shocked to hear how much control he had over her.

"She needs to hear it from you."

"Then tell her to come up and I'll say it to her!"

Saff didn't say anything, and after a moment the realisation dawned over his face.

"You're afraid I'll command her to do something terrible," he said quietly. She gave only a nod, and he winced and looked away. "I suppose I cannot blame you for such suspicions… but for what it's worth, I don't wish to hurt her, or any of you. And I certainly never wish to command her to do anything against her will ever again. I… I wish only to see her happy."

There was a moment of quiet as she watched him hang his head in remorse.

"Malitas…" she said quietly, unsure if she wanted to ask the question that waited on the tip of her tongue. "…Do you still love her?"

He glanced at her, hesitating, before turning away again and giving the slightest nod.

She took a breath, gathering the courage to ask the question she feared even more.

"Do you still love me?"

"Saffron… you shouldn't linger on such things. How I may feel should have no impact on you."

"Please answer the question."

He looked at her again, apologetic this time, and gave another nod.

"Thank you," she said, prompting a slightly confused look from him. "For telling me the truth, and not telling me a lie you think will make me feel better."

He looked downwards, and she wondered if he finally realised that's all he should have done from the beginning.

"Gale said that if you'd told me about her and I'd demanded you destroy her - if you were forced to pick between us - you'd have chosen her."

"I would have done, yes… and I'm sorry, I know it is a betrayal against you."

"No, it's not. If I was too blind to see that she was a living person, then it would have been your duty to protect her. I'm glad you would have done so."

He looked rather surprised by that, but also relieved.

"Thank you for understanding," he said quietly. "And thank you for accepting her. I'm glad to see that my worst fears didn't play out."

"This isn't one of your worst fears?" She asked, nodding to the soul cage.

"Well… this is a possibility I hadn't considered at the time, I confess."

She chuckled softly, though there was still plenty on her mind.

"So… you love both of us?" She asked after a moment.

"Yes, though it is… complicated. Confusing. To have two of the same person in your life, knowing that your feelings for one should be so distinct from your feelings for the other… it isn't easy. Though Gale disagrees, he sees you both as different enough that he does not have the same feelings for Saffy that he does for you. I envy him that, though I'm sure you'd both prefer I had no such feelings for either of you anymore."

She wouldn't say it to Malitas, but she was glad to hear him say that about Gale. Of course, she didn't know if he was telling the truth or falling back into the habit of saying what he thought she wanted to hear, but it was a relief nonetheless.

"Like you said, your feelings shouldn't have any impact on us," she said simply, trying not to make her real thoughts too obvious. If Malitas had any inkling of what was truly on her mind, he chose not to mention it. "Though I hope those feelings will fade, for your sake. You should be able to move on and find someone else."

She rose to her feet, not wanting to take that conversation any further.

"I should get some rest, we plan to head off early to face Orin."

"If you release me, I will fight along side you."

"You know I can't do that."

"It was worth a try."

She couldn't help but chuckle, though his expression quickly turned more serious.

"I wish you the best of luck, but I must warn you - it is easy to become complacent knowing that you have a clone ready for you if you die. Do not fall into this trap. You have many fights ahead of you, you want that clone to be an option for you only when you need it most. Do not waste it early on in a situation you could have survived."

"I won't," she assured him. "I'll return and let you know once she's defeated."

"Thank you, Saffron."

Her mind was heavy as she left the room. She found Gale and Saffy waiting for her downstairs, as she knew they would be, ready to comfort her and eager to hear how the conversation went.

"He told me where my clone is. It's in a demiplane, there are scrolls in the library we can use to access it." "A demiplane! Of course, I should have thought of that," Gale scolded himself. "I assume that means his own clones are stored similarly."

"We're not destroying them," she said firmly. "But I want to go to the plane mine is stored in. He said there's a letter there, explaining everything. I want to see what he wrote."

"If the scrolls were in the library, they'll be in the Bag of Holding now," Saffy told them. "I put every scroll I could find in there."

"Then let's waste no time in finding one," Gale suggested, though Saffy held up her hand to stop him.

"First, did you talk to him about everything else?" She asked Saff, who nodded.

"I gave him the rings. He was grateful. He said he didn't keep his family alive with clones because seeking immortality leads one to lose themselves. Balthazar, Ketheric, Halaster Blackcloak - none of them were the people they were as mortals. That's why he still looks the same age, even though he made those clones centuries ago - he created his clones to age with him, with the intention of letting nature take its course when he reaches old age."

"Hmm, I suppose he's not wrong, history is full of such examples," Gale considered, "though there are also those who did not succumb to such a fate. Elminster, for one."

"He mentioned Elminster, and how his immortality was granted to him by a god. Achieving immortality through mortal means doesn't seem to work as well."

"Great," Saffy muttered. "I don't age. Is this what's in store for me? Not only do I have to live stuck in this tower forever, but I'm eventually going to go mad too?"

"I… don't know," Saff admitted softly. "But you might not need to live in this tower forever, at least. He said he'd release you from his commands."

"Of course he said that," she said disbelievingly, rolling her eyes. "He'll say anything to get out."

Saff watched her for a second, then turned to Gale.

"Can we have a moment?"

He nodded and headed off, leaving them alone. She turned to Saffy with a sympathetic look.

"Saffy… he said to tell you that he's sorry. He knows his word means little and that just an apology won't fix what he's done, but he still wanted you to know. He said to tell you that he meant every word he ever said to you, and that if you want him gone he'll leave, or if there's anything he can do to help you, he'll do it. He said he wants only what's best for you, and he never wants to make you do anything against your will again. He… didn't say to tell you this, but… he said he still loves you."

She looked away, trying to hold back the tears that pricked the backs of her eyes.

"Do you believe him?" She asked, struggling to keep her voice steady.

"Honestly? I do," she answered, and Saffy nearly laughed.

"What if he's just making a fool of us both again?" She said, her tone almost angry as her voice shook. Part of her wanted to reject it entirely without even considering the possibility it might be true, and yet… part of her couldn't do that.

"Maybe he is… I don't know. All I know is he sounds genuine to me," Saff said, and her heart went out to Saffy as she saw her tears fall.

"This… this isn't fair!" Saffy sobbed, unable to hold back her tears any longer. "Why can't I just hate him? Why… why does it have to be like this?"

Saff couldn't just watch anymore, and with a quick gesture she cast Dominate Person, commanded Saffy to ignore his orders, and pulled her into a hug. Saffy hugged her back tightly, sobbing into her shoulder.

"I thought he didn't care about me, I thought he was just using me, I thought he was sick for what he was doing behind your back. But if he's telling the truth… have I done the wrong thing? Did I turn everyone against him when I shouldn't have done?"

"No," Saff said firmly, pulling back from the hug and holding Saffy by the shoulders. "You did nothing wrong, understand me? Even if he's telling the truth, what he did was still wrong, and he had to face consequences for that." She lifted her hands to Saffy's cheeks and gently wiped her tears away. "Don't ever blame yourself."

Slowly Saffy nodded, and Saff pulled her back into a hug again, holding her as she sobbed.

"I loved him, Saff…" she whispered through her tears. "I loved him so much…"

The rest of her words were incomprehensible, lost in her tears. The thought that he'd loved her the whole time, the thought that he still loved her despite everything, broke her heart. She didn't know what to do with it, how to feel about it, and it left her completely overwhelmed as she repeated everything Saff had said in her mind.

He meant every word he ever said to you.

---

They hadn't spoken since their moment in the library the day before.

She felt empty. Lost in the darkness, like a moth searching for a flame that didn’t exist. The one shred of happiness she’d clung onto had been ripped away and she was left drowning, suffocating, screaming into the void. She couldn’t even be in the same room as him, the pain was too great. It was all she could do not to run into his arms, not to seek that comfort he’d given her, not to press her lips to his and feel his breath against her skin…

She couldn’t even bear to look at him, knowing he felt the same. Every time she saw him, his words echoed through her mind.

I love you…

She shook her head, trying to empty her mind of those words and focus on the task at hand. Reading had proved impossible for her right now, so she’d decided to do some cleaning to try to take her mind off it, and the top shelves of the library bookshelves certainly needed it with all the dust that had built up after years - decades? Centuries? - of not being properly cleaned.  Though it didn’t take long for her mind to go back to him, just one room away from her in his study. She didn’t even know what he was studying anymore, given he could do nothing more for Saff. Maybe he wasn’t actually studying anything, and he too was just trying to get his mind off of what they’d done. Was he struggling this much, too? Did he find his every thought going back to her, just as her every thought went back to him…?

Her mind was so clouded, she didn’t notice quite how far she’d leant over until her foot slipped off the wrung. 

Her hands frantically scrambled to grab onto something, anything, but she found no purchase and could do nothing but scream as she plummeted down to the hard marble floor. 

She didn’t remember the impact. She remembered only the pain, lying groaning on the floor in a daze, barely conscious, her vision nothing but a blur. She remembered a distant shout of her name, a familiar figure on his knees next to her. She remembered being swept up into his arms and carried through the tower, his heartbeat racing next to her ear where she leant against his chest. She remembered lying on the alchemy table, a haze of magic and incantations above her as her consciousness slowly came back. Finally, she remembered his hand against her cheek and the look of worry in his eyes when she eventually came to. 

“Saffron?” He asked hopefully, his thumb lightly brushing over her skin. 

Adrenaline still coursed through her - or at least, the illusory equivalent of it. Her breath caught as the realisation that she could have died fully hit her, and she couldn’t stop the sob of emotion that fell from her lips. 

He took her into his arms, hugging her tightly as she buried her face into his neck, clinging onto him. Her hands trembled, but as she felt the comforting warmth of his hand stroking her hair, slowly the shock and the fear died down. When they finally pulled away they lingered close, in each other’s arms, lost in each other’s eyes…

She could hold back no longer, and seemingly neither could he, and the two of them came together in a kiss.

He pulled her in, his fingers intertwining with her hair as her arms wrapped around his shoulders. The kiss deepened, the taste of him on her tongue, the vibrations of a moan against his lips…

He pulled away and stumbled backwards, shaking his head in a panic.

“We can’t… we can’t…” he gasped through heavy breaths, running his hand through his hair and turning away from her. 

She too turned away, unable to look at him. He was right, she knew, but gods it was difficult. 

“Y-yeah,” she stuttered, trying to convince herself as much as convince him. “It’s not right… and it’ll pass, won’t it? I mean, this is just cause we’ve been stuck here together going through all this shit. Once things go back to normal, our feelings will go back to normal. It’s not like we’ve felt like this for long.” 

He didn’t answer. He looked aside, shifting on the spot. Slowly, the realisation dawned on her.

“Malitas?” She asked nervously. “How long have you felt this way?” 

He opened his mouth, hesitating for a moment before answering.

“...About a year.” 

Her eyes widened in shock and she was stunned into silent disbelief. He’d felt like this even before she’d been created? He felt this way for Saff, too?

“A… year…” she whispered, her mind slowly going over the implications. “But… why did you never say anything?” 

“Because it wasn’t right,” he said quietly, guiltily. “To fall in love with one’s apprentice… it is unthinkable. I had hoped these feelings would pass, but after recent events… they have only grown stronger.” 

“Stronger for me, or stronger for her?” She asked, almost fearing the answer. 

“Stronger for you. She is not the one who sat by my side and held my hand while I felt like the world was collapsing around me. She is not the one who cared for me when I could not care for myself. She is not the one who saw me at my lowest and remained by my side. She is not the one who cried with me when there were no more words left to say. She is not the one who dragged me out of the darkness, who reminded me what happiness could be. She is not the one that consumes my every waking thought, the one I see when I close my eyes, the one my soul burns for…” 

Her eyes widened. There was naught in her chest but ice and snow, yet his words sent her heart racing. 

“I know I should not feel this way. My mind screams at me that you are but a simulacrum - a simulacrum of my apprentice - and yet my heart will not listen. I can think of nothing but you. I cannot breathe without you. I cannot be without you. I… I love you.” 

Tears welled in her eyes, and she could no longer hold herself back. 

She jumped up from the table and threw herself into his arms. He too couldn't stop himself as they melted together in a kiss.

“She'll understand,” she whispered against his lips, resting her forehead against his. 

Arabella tossed restlessly in her bed. She'd grown used to doing things on her own time, whenever she wanted, without adults telling her what to do. Being forced to have a bed time again wasn't something she was fond of. She'd enjoyed spending the evening with them, and certainly enjoyed having a proper dinner, to the point where she was almost considering staying with them. But she wasn't sure it was worth the trade off of having to go to bed early.

She could feel magic coming off the walls around her. The tower was infused with it - protective wards, they'd said. Gale had promised to explain it all to her another day, but her curiosity got the better of her. Why should she wait for him? She could understand it herself, if she focused enough.

She could hear noises downstairs, the muffled sound of conversation. They were all distracted, talking amongst themselves. No one would notice her exploring the rest of the tower if she was quiet.

Quickly she threw the covers back and carefully opened the door, hoping the creaking wouldn't alert them. She knew better than to risk heading downstairs, so instead she headed up.

When she saw the ethereal blue glow underneath the door she found at the top of the stairs, her heart raced with excitement. The glow gently pulsed she approached, almost beckoning her forward with its mysteries. Even outside the room she could feel the Weave in the air, a familiar tingle against her skin, and this certainly wasn't protection magic. She reached up to the door handle, slowly turned it and peaked her head inside .

Her eyes widened at the sight of Malitas on his knees in the centre of a glowing rune, his form nothing more than a spirit bound by ethereal chains. He looked up at her and looked just as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

"Arabella??"

"Malitas!"

She ran into the room in a panic.

"Oh gods! What happened to you?! Why are you a ghost?? Why are you chained up?!"

"Arabella-"

"We gotta get you out of here! Is there a way to release you? Can I disable the spell? Or destroy the chains?" She ran around him in circles as she reeled off the questions.

"Arabella-"

"What happened to your body? Do you need a new one? Maybe the others can-"

"Arabella!"

She finally stopped in front of him and he gave her a stern look.

"You're not supposed to be up here, are you?"

"No…" she murmured guiltily, shifting on her feet, before quickly changing the subject. "But that doesn't matter! I've gotta help you! Let me see if I can get you out!"

She raised her hands and magic began to gather at her fingertips.

"No, stop!" He quickly interrupted. She paused, the magic fizzling, and looked at him in confusion. "This is powerful magic, I don't know what will happen if you try to dispel it. You could get hurt."

"Don't worry, I'll be fine!" She said with a confident grin. "I'm really good at magic now, watch!"

"Don't!"

She paused again, getting a bit frustrated now.

"Why? It'll be fine, I promise!"

"This spell is unstable, even if you do everything right it could still backfire through no fault of your own. I know because I made this spell myself, and I was still experimenting with it, it wasn't ready to be used yet."

She narrowed her eyes slightly, and a smirk came to her lips.

"Is that what happened? Did you get trapped in your own spell while you were working on it?" She asked with a teasing grin.

"No, that is not what happened."

"Then what was it?" She questioned disbelievingly, sure that he was just embarrassed by messing up his spell.

"I… got into an argument with the others and this is the result."

Her smile faded.

"Wait… what?" She asked nervously, glancing towards the door, then back at him. "They said you were away, that you had business to attend to."

"Ah…" he murmured as she began to back away from the door.

"They… lied… they chained you up like this then they lied about it! I thought, maybe I should stay with them, but they're all liars!"

"Arabella, listen to me," he said firmy, drawing her attention back to him. "You can trust them. If you stay with them, which you should, they will look after you."

"But they did this to you," she objected, looking at him sadly.

"Yes, they did… but for good reason."

"Why, just cause you got into an argument? They shouldn't chain you up like this just cause of that!"

"It… was more than just an argument," he said with a deep sigh. "I did some very bad things, and this is my punishment. They had little choice but to do this. I can assure you, you do not need to fear them."

She watched him for a long moment, fiddling nervously with her sleeves.

"What did you do?"

"That is a long story."

She paused again, processing it all.

"So… you're in time out?" She asked, a grin once more returning to her lips.

"I-… yes, I suppose you could say that," he muttered, clearly not fond of such a description being applied to his situation.

"My parents used to put me in time out sometimes when I was naughty. But not for this long. You must have been here for hours!"

"Well… the punishment must fit the crime, and I doubt any of your crimes were as bad as mine," he muttered, glancing away slightly. She watched him, folding her arms.

"Are you sorry for what you did?" She asked eventually.

"I am, yes."

"Are you gonna do it again?"

"Certainly not."

"Then they should let you out. If I was sorry and I promised not to do it again, that's when mum and pops would let me out."

He looked up at her, deep in thought.

"If a very bad man hurt a lot of people and was put in prison, would you let him out if he said he was sorry and wouldn't do it again?" He questioned.

She paused, considering her answer.

"Depends how bad he was."

"Bad enough that you weren't sure if he was telling the truth, or if he was just saying it and would hurt more people if he were released. If you couldn't be sure, would you let him out?"

She was silent, piecing it all together.

"I don't think you'd hurt anyone," she said quietly. A small, emotional smile came to his lips.

"Thank you," he said softly. "I appreciate that, truly. But the fact remains, they can only release me when they are sure."

She wasn't very happy with that, but she supposed she had no choice but to accept it. She shifted on the spot, trying to figure out what the best way forward was.

"Does it hurt, being in there?" She asked eventually.

"No. It isn't very comfortable, but it doesn't hurt."

"How much can you move?"

He shifted, moving a few inches from one side to the other, the chains clinking around him as they were pulled taught.

"About that much."

"Can you still breathe?"

"Yes, but I've discovered I don't need to. If I hold my breath, nothing happens."

"Can you eat in there?"

"No, I can't."

"Do you still need to use the toilet?"

He chuckled softly.

"No, luckily, or that would make this whole ordeal significantly more unpleasant."

She giggled too, then got straight back to her questions.

"Can you sleep?"

"No. Being an elf I wouldn't sleep anyway, but I can't trance in here either."

"So you're always awake?"

"Yes."

"Doesn't it get boring?"

"Believe me, I have plenty to think about."

"Why are you a ghost?"

"This is a soul cage. If I am released, my soul will return to my body."

"Why do you have wings?"

"Because I'm a draconic sorcerer."

"Wow… is that why your face looks weird? Are those scales?"

"Yes, they are."

"Why didn't you have scales and wings last time I saw you?"

"Because I spend a lot of time with wizards, and wizards often look down upon sorcerers, so I keep that part of myself a secret."

"Why do they look down on sorcerers?"

"Because wizards don't like that sorcerers don't need to study to use magic like they do."

"Well that's dumb. I didn't have to study to get my magic, but I still have to learn to use it!"

"Next time I visit an academy I'll be sure to bring you along and you can tell them that."

She giggled, and before she could get to her next question, he asked a question of his own.

"How has your pursuit of magic been going?"

"Really well! I can do so much now! I even killed three thugs earlier and saved Saff and Gale!"

His eyebrows rose in surprise.

"What happened?"

"They were running through the sewers, all beaten up. Gale was carrying Saff cause she was knocked out, and they were cornered. I ran up behind the thugs and killed them with my vines! Then I took Gale and Saff to where I was camping and we hid while the rest of the thugs looked for us. I gave Saff some blankets since she didn't have any clothes and we all came back here!"

"Wait," he said, his smile fading to a look of fear. "She didn't have any clothes?"

"She was naked cause she wild shaped! And she hasn't learnt to take her clothes with her yet. She became an owlbear and a giant eagle to get them out! So I guess her clothes all ripped off."

He breathed such a deep sigh of relief it almost made her laugh.

"What did you think had happened?" She asked.

"Something far worse," he murmured. "Who were these thugs?"

"Bhaalists. Gale and Saff got captured by a bad lady called Orin, but they escaped!"

"Well, I am very glad to hear that. Thank you for helping them, Arabella."

She grinned proudly, then sat down on the ground in front of him.

"So, I was going to ask-"

"Arabella," he interrupted, "it's very late, you really should get to bed."

"But I have so many more questions! And you're all on your own up here, so someone has to keep you company."

He chuckled and shook his head.

"The others would be furious with me if I let you stay up this late."

"Well… in your defence, you don't really have a choice," she said with a grin, then launched into her questions before he could object any further.

Despite how late she ended up going to bed, she was wide awake the next morning.

The others were preparing breakfast when she entered the kitchen, and Saff turned to her with a wide smile.

"Morning Arabella! What do you fancy for breakfast?"

Her smile faltered when she saw the serious look on Arabella's face.

"I spoke to Malitas last night."

The kitchen went quiet as the others stopped what they were doing and turned to face her. Saff put down the plate she'd been holding and took a few steps towards Arabella.

"What did he say?" She asked, hoping Arabella didn't hold it against them for lying to her.

"He said he'd done something really bad, and that's why he's chained up. He said he was sorry and he won't do it again. He said I can trust you, even though you lied to me," she said, pouting slightly and folding her arms.

"I'm sorry Arabella," Saff said softly, kneeling down in front of her. "I didn't want to lie to you. But… it's a complicated situation."

She nodded, not quite meeting Saff's eyes.

"How long are you gonna leave him in there?" She asked eventually.

"I… don't know right now. We need to decide that."

Arabella nodded slowly, then finally met Saff's eyes.

"I don't think he'll hurt you again."

Saff sighed softly, and put her hand on Arabella's shoulder.

"I hope you're right."

Saffy chose not to join them for breakfast. She made her excuses about how sometimes being surrounded by people eating didn't feel great considering she couldn't eat herself, but the real reason was quite different.

I don't think he'll hurt you again.

Was Arabella right? Malitas was a skilled liar, and manipulating a nine year old was certainly something he would have no trouble doing if he wanted. Was that what he was doing here?

She glanced towards the stairs as she wandered the tower, knowing he was only a few steps away should she want to see him. She had so many questions, so much to say. Maybe speaking to him would give her some sense of closure… or maybe he'd manipulate her too, make her believe the man she'd once loved so dearly was still in there. Make her believe there was still hope for him…

She shook her head. She wouldn't let herself fall for that again. The past was the past, and she would not let it cloud her future, no matter how much those memories lingered in her mind.

xxx

The Circus of the Last Days. Even from this distance, she could make out the distinctive bright flags and coloured banners that decorated Rivington. It filled her with a nostalgic heartache, a deep longing for the lost days of her childhood, days she’d technically never had but only remembered from another life. 

Yet when she heard footsteps approaching down the hallway, she felt the loneliness fading away. Quickly she jumped up and headed to the door of her room, and when she opened it she found Malitas on the other side. 

With a smile she gave him a hug, which he happily returned.

“Did you find it?” She asked as the two of them parted.

“Yes. Sorcerous Sundries didn’t have it, but Candlekeep did,” he answered with a nod. Another book on ancient magic that he hoped to be able to utilise to help Saff. It would most likely lead to another failure, but she was determined not to let herself lose hope. “I also picked up something else while I was out.”

He reached into his Bag of Holding and produced a bouquet of bright red roses. Her face lit up in a smile as he handed them to her and the smell of fresh flowers filled the air.

“They’re beautiful!” She gushed, then quickly ran back into the room to find a vase for them. She found an older bouquet that had been starting to wilt and swiftly replaced it with the new flowers. 

When she turned back to Malitas, he was smiling as he watched her from the doorway. 

“I’m glad you like them. Now, I’d best get on with my work.”

“And I’d best get on with dinner,” she decided, and headed downstairs with him.

Her mind wandered as she prepared the stew to what life might be like when Saff recovered. When, not if. The thought of Saff dying hurt too much, so she chose, for tonight at least, to not think about that. Maybe they’d all live together. Malitas had said he’d take them all on trips outside the city. The thought of that filled her with excitement. 

And, eventually, Saff would presumably move out. And then what would happen to herself? She couldn’t learn new skills for a job. She’d have to go back to the Elfsong and work as a waitress again, and gods she didn’t want to do that…

Malitas had said he’d do whatever he could to provide whatever life she wanted. Maybe she didn’t need to work. Maybe she could stay here with him… she didn’t know if he’d want that, but she found herself quite keen on the idea…

She gasped in pain and stumbled back as she absent-mindedly let her arm touch the hot pan. The chopping board of vegetables she’d been holding clattered to the floor, but that was the least of her worries. She clutched her arm, watching the illusion falter and stutter around the wound. It wasn’t even a big burn, but it hurt so much more than it looked like it should. She quickly ran it under cold water, but found that did little to help. 

Maybe she’d have no choice but to stay here with Malitas after Saff moved out - simulacra did not heal naturally, they had to be repaired. Even the slightest wound could be fatal to her, and Malitas was the only one she knew who could heal her. 

With a sigh she headed up to the library, gritting her teeth against the pain. She found him behind his desk, surrounded by books as always. He looked up at her, concern crossing his features when he saw the look of pain on her face.

“Saffron? What’s wrong?”

She felt like a child asking their parent for help as she held out her arm to show him. Even though she knew he’d help, it still felt humiliating to be so reliant on him.

"I burnt myself on the pan.”

Quickly he stood and walked over to her. He gently took her arm in his hands, and as he brushed his fingers over her skin to inspect the wound, she suddenly found the feeling of humiliation to be replaced by something else entirely.

“Let’s get to the alchemy lab.”

She followed him upstairs and sat on the alchemy table as he gathered the equipment he’d need. Once again he took her arm in his hand and she watched him begin to chat incantations, the low murmur of his voice almost melodic. 

He reached down to take a pinch of what she realised was powdered rubies and lightly sprinkled it over her skin. He didn’t seem to think twice about using such expensive materials to repair her, which she tried to make a mental note to apologise for, though she found herself quite distracted as other thoughts filled her mind. The powder shimmered with magic as it was absorbed into her, knitting the illusion back together. He ran his fingers lightly down her arm, tracing smooth lines over her skin to shape the spell, and she was sure the warmth she felt at his touch was not just from the magic. 

She looked up from her arm at him and saw the lines of concentration on his face, the slight wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the focused look as he expertly shaped the Weave around her. With a shimmer the spell was finally complete, yet he didn’t let go of her hand, nor did he pull away when he lifted his gaze and met her eyes, despite how far forward she realised she’d leant. 

“Better?” He asked, his tender voice almost a whisper.

“Yeah,” she answered, surprised to find she was so flustered the word almost came out little more than a stutter. 

He didn’t move back, and neither did she. She could feel the warmth of his hands on hers, the gentle movement of his thumb against her wrist. 

“Do try to be more careful,” he said with a soft smile, a playful tone in his voice. “I would hate for you to get hurt while I’m not here to help.” 

“I will,” she replied, feeling a rush of excitement from the smile he gave her. “Sorry for making you use such expensive materials on me.”

“Don’t apologise,” he said quickly, squeezing her hand slightly. “Don’t ever apologise for that. Saffron…” he lifted a hand to her cheek, the light brush of his fingers sending her heart aflutter. “You are worth so much more than a few gemstones…”

Those words ignited a fire within her. She leant into his touch, into him, close enough to feel his breath, hot against the sensitive skin of her neck. She couldn’t stop the thoughts that flooded her mind, the desire to feel more than just his breath against her, to feel the kiss of his lips, the warmth of his hands running up her back, the heat of his body against hers… 

Suddenly he pulled back, clearing his throat as he turned away from her. 

“I should clear this up,” he said quickly, grabbing the alchemy materials from the table next to her and heading to the cupboards to return them. 

“Oh, yes, of course,” she stuttered, almost breathless. “I… I should get back to dinner.”

She quickly jumped off the table and hurried out of the room, her heart racing.

When she reached the kitchen she slammed the door behind her and leant against it, holding her head. She wanted to wipe that from her mind, pretend that had never happened…

But she couldn’t deny it anymore.

She couldn’t deny the way her heart fluttered whenever he entered the room. She couldn’t deny the warmth she felt at his touch. She couldn’t deny the fact that he was the only thing in her life right now that made her happy. No matter how bad things got, as long as he was there, she felt like they could face it. He could make her smile and laugh when the world seemed hopeless. He made her heart race and set her soul alight. With him she didn’t feel like a mere illusion, a construct, an ice-cold shell that could only mimic the person she once was. With him, she felt alive. 

And she certainly couldn’t deny the thoughts that filled her head now. Fantasies of what his hands would feel like running over her body, the taste of his tongue as they kissed, the feel of his fingers through her hair, the sound of his voice as he moaned her name into her ear…

Her eyes snapped open and the scene in front of her brought her back to reality. Chopped vegetables scattered the floor and the pot boiled over onto the stove. She hurried forward and turned off the stove, then knelt down to start clearing up the mess. 

The state of the kitchen felt like an apt metaphor for how any attempt at a relationship with Malitas might go. She was a simulacrum - a simulacrum of his apprentice, no less. And even if she hadn’t been a simulacrum, what chance would she have with him? She was just an orphan from the Lower City, able to cast only the simplest of spells, while he was a master wizard, rich and experienced and well-connected and more powerful than she could ever aspire to.

How lucky she’d have to be to attract the interests of someone like that.

Arabella tossed restlessly in her bed. She'd grown used to doing things on her own time, whenever she wanted, without adults telling her what to do. Being forced to have a bed time again wasn't something she was fond of. She'd enjoyed spending the evening with them, and certainly enjoyed having a proper dinner, to the point where she was almost considering staying with them. But she wasn't sure it was worth the trade off of having to go to bed early.

She could feel magic coming off the walls around her. The tower was infused with it - protective wards, they'd said. Gale had promised to explain it all to her another day, but her curiosity got the better of her. Why should she wait for him? She could understand it herself, if she focused enough.

She could hear noises downstairs, the muffled sound of conversation. They were all distracted, talking amongst themselves. No one would notice her exploring the rest of the tower if she was quiet.

Quickly she threw the covers back and carefully opened the door, hoping the creaking wouldn't alert them. She knew better than to risk heading downstairs, so instead she headed up.

When she saw the ethereal blue glow underneath the door she found at the top of the stairs, her heart raced with excitement. The glow gently pulsed she approached, almost beckoning her forward with its mysteries. Even outside the room she could feel the Weave in the air, a familiar tingle against her skin, and this certainly wasn't protection magic. She reached up to the door handle, slowly turned it and peaked her head inside .

Her eyes widened at the sight of Malitas on his knees in the centre of a glowing rune, his form nothing more than a spirit bound by ethereal chains. He looked up at her and looked just as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

"Arabella??"

"Malitas!"

She ran into the room in a panic.

"Oh gods! What happened to you?! Why are you a ghost?? Why are you chained up?!"

"Arabella-"

"We gotta get you out of here! Is there a way to release you? Can I disable the spell? Or destroy the chains?" She ran around him in circles as she reeled off the questions.

"Arabella-"

"What happened to your body? Do you need a new one? Maybe the others can-"

"Arabella!"

She finally stopped in front of him and he gave her a stern look.

"You're not supposed to be up here, are you?"

"No…" she murmured guiltily, shifting on her feet, before quickly changing the subject. "But that doesn't matter! I've gotta help you! Let me see if I can get you out!"

She raised her hands and magic began to gather at her fingertips.

"No, stop!" He quickly interrupted. She paused, the magic fizzling, and looked at him in confusion. "This is powerful magic, I don't know what will happen if you try to dispel it. You could get hurt."

"Don't worry, I'll be fine!" She said with a confident grin. "I'm really good at magic now, watch!"

"Don't!"

She paused again, getting a bit frustrated now.

"Why? It'll be fine, I promise!"

"This spell is unstable, even if you do everything right it could still backfire through no fault of your own. I know because I made this spell myself, and I was still experimenting with it, it wasn't ready to be used yet."

She narrowed her eyes slightly, and a smirk came to her lips.

"Is that what happened? Did you get trapped in your own spell while you were working on it?" She asked with a teasing grin.

"No, that is not what happened."

"Then what was it?" She questioned disbelievingly, sure that he was just embarrassed by messing up his spell.

"I… got into an argument with the others and this is the result."

Her smile faded.

"Wait… what?" She asked nervously, glancing towards the door, then back at him. "They said you were away, that you had business to attend to."

"Ah…" he murmured as she began to back away from the door.

"They… lied… they chained you up like this then they lied about it! I thought, maybe I should stay with them, but they're all liars!"

"Arabella, listen to me," he said firmy, drawing her attention back to him. "You can trust them. If you stay with them, which you should, they will look after you."

"But they did this to you," she objected, looking at him sadly.

"Yes, they did… but for good reason."

"Why, just cause you got into an argument? They shouldn't chain you up like this just cause of that!"

"It… was more than just an argument," he said with a deep sigh. "I did some very bad things, and this is my punishment. They had little choice but to do this. I can assure you, you do not need to fear them."

She watched him for a long moment, fiddling nervously with her sleeves.

"What did you do?"

"That is a long story."

She paused again, processing it all.

"So… you're in time out?" She asked, a grin once more returning to her lips.

"I-… yes, I suppose you could say that," he muttered, clearly not fond of such a description being applied to his situation.

"My parents used to put me in time out sometimes when I was naughty. But not for this long. You must have been here for hours!"

"Well… the punishment must fit the crime, and I doubt any of your crimes were as bad as mine," he muttered, glancing away slightly. She watched him, folding her arms.

"Are you sorry for what you did?" She asked eventually.

"I am, yes."

"Are you gonna do it again?"

"Certainly not."

"Then they should let you out. If I was sorry and I promised not to do it again, that's when mum and pops would let me out."

He looked up at her, deep in thought.

"If a very bad man hurt a lot of people and was put in prison, would you let him out if he said he was sorry and wouldn't do it again?" He questioned.

She paused, considering her answer.

"Depends how bad he was."

"Bad enough that you weren't sure if he was telling the truth, or if he was just saying it and would hurt more people if he were released. If you couldn't be sure, would you let him out?"

She was silent, piecing it all together.

"I don't think you'd hurt anyone," she said quietly. A small, emotional smile came to his lips.

"Thank you," he said softly. "I appreciate that, truly. But the fact remains, they can only release me when they are sure."

She wasn't very happy with that, but she supposed she had no choice but to accept it. She shifted on the spot, trying to figure out what the best way forward was.

"Does it hurt, being in there?" She asked eventually.

"No. It isn't very comfortable, but it doesn't hurt."

"How much can you move?"

He shifted, moving a few inches from one side to the other, the chains clinking around him as they were pulled taught.

"About that much."

"Can you still breathe?"

"Yes, but I've discovered I don't need to. If I hold my breath, nothing happens."

"Can you eat in there?"

"No, I can't."

"Do you still need to use the toilet?"

He chuckled softly.

"No, luckily, or that would make this whole ordeal significantly more unpleasant."

She giggled too, then got straight back to her questions.

"Can you sleep?"

"No. Being an elf I wouldn't sleep anyway, but I can't trance in here either."

"So you're always awake?"

"Yes."

"Doesn't it get boring?"

"Believe me, I have plenty to think about."

"Why are you a ghost?"

"This is a soul cage. If I am released, my soul will return to my body."

"Why do you have wings?"

"Because I'm a draconic sorcerer."

"Wow… is that why your face looks weird? Are those scales?"

"Yes, they are."

"Why didn't you have scales and wings last time I saw you?"

"Because I spend a lot of time with wizards, and wizards often look down upon sorcerers, so I keep that part of myself a secret."

"Why do they look down on sorcerers?"

"Because wizards don't like that sorcerers don't need to study to use magic like they do."

"Well that's dumb. I didn't have to study to get my magic, but I still have to learn to use it!"

"Next time I visit an academy I'll be sure to bring you along and you can tell them that."

She giggled, and before she could get to her next question, he asked a question of his own.

"How has your pursuit of magic been going?"

"Really well! I can do so much now! I even killed three thugs earlier and saved Saff and Gale!"

His eyebrows rose in surprise.

"What happened?"

"They were running through the sewers, all beaten up. Gale was carrying Saff cause she was knocked out, and they were cornered. I ran up behind the thugs and killed them with my vines! Then I took Gale and Saff to where I was camping and we hid while the rest of the thugs looked for us. I gave Saff some blankets since she didn't have any clothes and we all came back here!"

"Wait," he said, his smile fading to a look of fear. "She didn't have any clothes?"

"She was naked cause she wild shaped! And she hasn't learnt to take her clothes with her yet. She became an owlbear and a giant eagle to get them out! So I guess her clothes all ripped off."

He breathed such a deep sigh of relief it almost made her laugh.

"What did you think had happened?" She asked.

"Something far worse," he murmured. "Who were these thugs?"

"Bhaalists. Gale and Saff got captured by a bad lady called Orin, but they escaped!"

"Well, I am very glad to hear that. Thank you for helping them, Arabella."

She grinned proudly, then sat down on the ground in front of him.

"So, I was going to ask-"

"Arabella," he interrupted, "it's very late, you really should get to bed."

"But I have so many more questions! And you're all on your own up here, so someone has to keep you company."

He chuckled and shook his head.

"The others would be furious with me if I let you stay up this late."

"Well… in your defence, you don't really have a choice," she said with a grin, then launched into her questions before he could object any further.

Despite how late she ended up going to bed, she was wide awake the next morning.

The others were preparing breakfast when she entered the kitchen, and Saff turned to her with a wide smile.

"Morning Arabella! What do you fancy for breakfast?"

Her smile faltered when she saw the serious look on Arabella's face.

"I spoke to Malitas last night."

The kitchen went quiet as the others stopped what they were doing and turned to face her. Saff put down the plate she'd been holding and took a few steps towards Arabella.

"What did he say?" She asked, hoping Arabella didn't hold it against them for lying to her.

"He said he'd done something really bad, and that's why he's chained up. He said he was sorry and he won't do it again. He said I can trust you, even though you lied to me," she said, pouting slightly and folding her arms.

"I'm sorry Arabella," Saff said softly, kneeling down in front of her. "I didn't want to lie to you. But… it's a complicated situation."

She nodded, not quite meeting Saff's eyes.

"How long are you gonna leave him in there?" She asked eventually.

"I… don't know right now. We need to decide that."

Arabella nodded slowly, then finally met Saff's eyes.

"I don't think he'll hurt you again."

Saff sighed softly, and put her hand on Arabella's shoulder.

"I hope you're right."

Saffy chose not to join them for breakfast. She made her excuses about how sometimes being surrounded by people eating didn't feel great considering she couldn't eat herself, but the real reason was quite different.

I don't think he'll hurt you again.

Was Arabella right? Malitas was a skilled liar, and manipulating a nine year old was certainly something he would have no trouble doing if he wanted. Was that what he was doing here?

She glanced towards the stairs as she wandered the tower, knowing he was only a few steps away should she want to see him. She had so many questions, so much to say. Maybe speaking to him would give her some sense of closure… or maybe he'd manipulate her too, make her believe the man she'd once loved so dearly was still in there. Make her believe there was still hope for him…

She shook her head. She wouldn't let herself fall for that again. The past was the past, and she would not let it cloud her future, no matter how much those memories lingered in her mind.

---

The Circus of the Last Days. Even from this distance, she could make out the distinctive bright flags and coloured banners that decorated Rivington. It filled her with a nostalgic heartache, a deep longing for the lost days of her childhood, days she’d technically never had but only remembered from another life. 

Yet when she heard footsteps approaching down the hallway, she felt the loneliness fading away. Quickly she jumped up and headed to the door of her room, and when she opened it she found Malitas on the other side. 

With a smile she gave him a hug, which he happily returned.

“Did you find it?” She asked as the two of them parted.

“Yes. Sorcerous Sundries didn’t have it, but Candlekeep did,” he answered with a nod. Another book on ancient magic that he hoped to be able to utilise to help Saff. It would most likely lead to another failure, but she was determined not to let herself lose hope. “I also picked up something else while I was out.”

He reached into his Bag of Holding and produced a bouquet of bright red roses. Her face lit up in a smile as he handed them to her and the smell of fresh flowers filled the air.

“They’re beautiful!” She gushed, then quickly ran back into the room to find a vase for them. She found an older bouquet that had been starting to wilt and swiftly replaced it with the new flowers. 

When she turned back to Malitas, he was smiling as he watched her from the doorway. 

“I’m glad you like them. Now, I’d best get on with my work.”

“And I’d best get on with dinner,” she decided, and headed downstairs with him.

Her mind wandered as she prepared the stew to what life might be like when Saff recovered. When, not if. The thought of Saff dying hurt too much, so she chose, for tonight at least, to not think about that. Maybe they’d all live together. Malitas had said he’d take them all on trips outside the city. The thought of that filled her with excitement. 

And, eventually, Saff would presumably move out. And then what would happen to herself? She couldn’t learn new skills for a job. She’d have to go back to the Elfsong and work as a waitress again, and gods she didn’t want to do that…

Malitas had said he’d do whatever he could to provide whatever life she wanted. Maybe she didn’t need to work. Maybe she could stay here with him… she didn’t know if he’d want that, but she found herself quite keen on the idea…

She gasped in pain and stumbled back as she absent-mindedly let her arm touch the hot pan. The chopping board of vegetables she’d been holding clattered to the floor, but that was the least of her worries. She clutched her arm, watching the illusion falter and stutter around the wound. It wasn’t even a big burn, but it hurt so much more than it looked like it should. She quickly ran it under cold water, but found that did little to help. 

Maybe she’d have no choice but to stay here with Malitas after Saff moved out - simulacra did not heal naturally, they had to be repaired. Even the slightest wound could be fatal to her, and Malitas was the only one she knew who could heal her. 

With a sigh she headed up to the library, gritting her teeth against the pain. She found him behind his desk, surrounded by books as always. He looked up at her, concern crossing his features when he saw the look of pain on her face.

“Saffron? What’s wrong?”

She felt like a child asking their parent for help as she held out her arm to show him. Even though she knew he’d help, it still felt humiliating to be so reliant on him.

"I burnt myself on the pan.”

Quickly he stood and walked over to her. He gently took her arm in his hands, and as he brushed his fingers over her skin to inspect the wound, she suddenly found the feeling of humiliation to be replaced by something else entirely.

“Let’s get to the alchemy lab.”

She followed him upstairs and sat on the alchemy table as he gathered the equipment he’d need. Once again he took her arm in his hand and she watched him begin to chat incantations, the low murmur of his voice almost melodic. 

He reached down to take a pinch of what she realised was powdered rubies and lightly sprinkled it over her skin. He didn’t seem to think twice about using such expensive materials to repair her, which she tried to make a mental note to apologise for, though she found herself quite distracted as other thoughts filled her mind. The powder shimmered with magic as it was absorbed into her, knitting the illusion back together. He ran his fingers lightly down her arm, tracing smooth lines over her skin to shape the spell, and she was sure the warmth she felt at his touch was not just from the magic. 

She looked up from her arm at him and saw the lines of concentration on his face, the slight wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the focused look as he expertly shaped the Weave around her. With a shimmer the spell was finally complete, yet he didn’t let go of her hand, nor did he pull away when he lifted his gaze and met her eyes, despite how far forward she realised she’d leant. 

“Better?” He asked, his tender voice almost a whisper.

“Yeah,” she answered, surprised to find she was so flustered the word almost came out little more than a stutter. 

He didn’t move back, and neither did she. She could feel the warmth of his hands on hers, the gentle movement of his thumb against her wrist. 

“Do try to be more careful,” he said with a soft smile, a playful tone in his voice. “I would hate for you to get hurt while I’m not here to help.” 

“I will,” she replied, feeling a rush of excitement from the smile he gave her. “Sorry for making you use such expensive materials on me.”

“Don’t apologise,” he said quickly, squeezing her hand slightly. “Don’t ever apologise for that. Saffron…” he lifted a hand to her cheek, the light brush of his fingers sending her heart aflutter. “You are worth so much more than a few gemstones…”

Those words ignited a fire within her. She leant into his touch, into him, close enough to feel his breath, hot against the sensitive skin of her neck. She couldn’t stop the thoughts that flooded her mind, the desire to feel more than just his breath against her, to feel the kiss of his lips, the warmth of his hands running up her back, the heat of his body against hers… 

Suddenly he pulled back, clearing his throat as he turned away from her. 

“I should clear this up,” he said quickly, grabbing the alchemy materials from the table next to her and heading to the cupboards to return them. 

“Oh, yes, of course,” she stuttered, almost breathless. “I… I should get back to dinner.”

She quickly jumped off the table and hurried out of the room, her heart racing.

When she reached the kitchen she slammed the door behind her and leant against it, holding her head. She wanted to wipe that from her mind, pretend that had never happened…

But she couldn’t deny it anymore.

She couldn’t deny the way her heart fluttered whenever he entered the room. She couldn’t deny the warmth she felt at his touch. She couldn’t deny the fact that he was the only thing in her life right now that made her happy. No matter how bad things got, as long as he was there, she felt like they could face it. He could make her smile and laugh when the world seemed hopeless. He made her heart race and set her soul alight. With him she didn’t feel like a mere illusion, a construct, an ice-cold shell that could only mimic the person she once was. With him, she felt alive. 

And she certainly couldn’t deny the thoughts that filled her head now. Fantasies of what his hands would feel like running over her body, the taste of his tongue as they kissed, the feel of his fingers through her hair, the sound of his voice as he moaned her name into her ear…

Her eyes snapped open and the scene in front of her brought her back to reality. Chopped vegetables scattered the floor and the pot boiled over onto the stove. She hurried forward and turned off the stove, then knelt down to start clearing up the mess. 

The state of the kitchen felt like an apt metaphor for how any attempt at a relationship with Malitas might go. She was a simulacrum - a simulacrum of his apprentice, no less. And even if she hadn’t been a simulacrum, what chance would she have with him? She was just an orphan from the Lower City, able to cast only the simplest of spells, while he was a master wizard, rich and experienced and well-connected and more powerful than she could ever aspire to.

How lucky she’d have to be to attract the interests of someone like that.