#zirse

She flinched, as the boar he’d been focusing on sprinted from the underbrush. She looked around wildly, before turning to look back at Astarion.

“Wha– Where’s the thing?” She asked. No fangs to notice, though. She wasn’t one of Cazador’s, at the very least.

“I– um– my apologies. The– Those things must have been messing with my head. I could have sworn I saw one.”

“That’s a terrible lie,” Her dark-haired companion snarled beside her– a half-elf with a darkness in her eyes.

“Now, now, Shadowheart. We’ve all been through the hells and back– oh, Gods, literally.”

“You–” Astarion took a moment to gather himself, did the half-elf not know? Could she not feel the necrotic aura around her? There was a holy symbol on her chest, and in her hair– he didn’t recognize it, but he knew a cleric when he saw one. Could she not– “–You were on the ship.”

“Oh, yeah, we were. You, too? I didn’t see you.” Astarion felt his jaw set. She’d walked right past him. And yet, she was so distractingly earnest.

“I saw you. Strutting about.”

“Hahah, yeah, more like sprintin’ about. Terrible time, really. I– I’m glad you made it out. I didn’t want to leave anyone to die.”

He felt his eye almost twitch into a snarl. He could pull his blade out now, but what good will it do? She was bloodless.

And then, like a stab of ice to the brain, he saw things that weren’t his memories. A temple in the woods, old headstones, and a giant, towering, skeletal thing, half-buried under moss and rubble. And then a long, winding road, and a ship– the ship, overhead. Darkness. The worm. He staggered back and clutched his head.

“What– What was that?!” He yelled; this time his hand did fall to his blade.

“Jergal’s teeth, it happened again. They put a worm in your brain, too? Were those your memories?”

Panic cut through him, but then he remembered who he was talking to. “I don’t know. But I definitely saw some of yours.”

“Shadowheart, did you see that?” She turned to her clerical companion.

“No, I didn’t see anything. But I felt it. Your minds touched.”

“Is that what it does, then? Gives us worm-to-worm communication?”

“Apparently,” The curly-haired undead sighed, dark eyes turning from her companion– Shadowheart, what a bloody name– to Astarion again, “As well as… well, turn us into mindflayers.”

“Turn us into–?!” Astarion blinked, grimaced. And then he laughed, dark and bitter, “Of course it will turn me into a monster, what else did I expect.”

“It’s alright, hasn’t happened yet. We’re looking for a healer, you wanna travel with us?”

Astarion had to doubletake. So did Shadowheart.

“You’re taking him with us?!” She hissed.

“What?” The leader looked indignant.

“He tried to kill you with your back turned!”

“What?” No indignance there, just confusion. She looked back to Astarion. He looked uneasily between the two.

“He was reaching for his dagger, you oaf!”

“He was?” She looked between them again, “But he didn’t draw it on me.”

“Does that–”

“I-I thought,” Astarion started, “You might need some help with the– the monster.”

This had the leader beaming, “That’s what I thought!”

Oh, Gods– she was dumber than she looked.

Shadowheart’s eyes practically bulged from their sockets in anger. “And you believe him?”

“Why shouldn’t I? He’s been nothing but forthright with us?”

Astarion tried not to look downright surprised.

Shadowheart’s eye twitched. “Do you normally put such blind faith in strangers?”

The leader gave a cockeyed, warm grin, “I mean, I’d like to.”

“How about we not be strangers, then? My name’s Astarion. I was in Baldur’s Gate when the ship snatched me.”

“Name’s Zirse. I come from Loudwater, just North of Loudwater, actually. I was traveling to Baldur’s Gate myself. Well– was, until… yeah. It’s a pleasure, Astarion. I look forward to traveling with you.”

Astarion was suddenly quite certain this was a trap.