Hey all, first fanfic and all that. This is basically the story of a Bhaalspawn character of mine and what happened to his Elven lover after he ascended. Bit depressing and all that, but I tend to be. This will be switching between Raziels POV and Imoen's POV. Be nice in your reviews and such!
I don't own anything but my two characters and the plotline. All the rest is Bioware's.
Revision Note: I finally started rewriting, yay! This is really just to flesh out the fic as it was shockingly without details, and the writing itself is kinda plain. Hopefully I won't be saying this again if I ever re-write the re-written fics!
All I really changed here was the setting and Raziel's hair color, as I think it would be best if she had white hair. Red just doesn't seem right.
The tall Bhaalspawn turned at the sound of his name. He saw the thin, beautiful Liaedra running towards him. In the darkness of this abyss, only two things glowed: the light emanating from the Throne of Bhaal, and the light coming from his Elven lover's eyes.
"Quinn! Please, don't leave! Don't ascend! Just stay here with me!" Her silver eyes filled with tears as she called to him.
Quinn shook his head. "Do you know what you ask of me?" he shouted. "I could become a god!"
"Please! Stay with me! I…. I need you!" She fell to her knees in front of him. She was sobbing now, her shimmering white hair tangled about her pale face. "I love you!" she cried, needing him to stay with her.
Quinn shook his head. "No," he said. The, turning away from the woman he had called his beloved, he walked towards the light of his father's essence, and towards his destiny.
"You promised me!" she cried, in a last desperate attempt to bring him back to her. "You promised you'd stay! You swore we'd say together!"
He looked over his shoulder. "Promises can be broken," he whispered, almost apologetically, before walking forward to stand in the light."
"Quinn," she whimpered. He had promised he would stay with her. He and she had become linked in mind, spirit, and body. And all that thrown away for power?
She stared into the light, sobbing softly as she felt the place in her heart where there had once been only him become empty. Not even her friend's cries could shake her from her shattered state of mind.
He was gone, and so was she.
Raziel opened her eyes in the darkness of the forest. She sighed as she shook away the effects of sleep and old memories that would not be forgotten. Ever night she dreamed of her past life and love, and ever night the hatred within her deepened.
After all, how could she ever forget what he had done to her and how he had abandoned her? Her mind still remembered how he had not helped even as she had needed him most, how her cries had gone unnoticed. It was as if she had no value to him when he ascended, as if she was beneath him.
Her lips twisted into a mix of a smirk and a snarl. Pain had become numbness, and sadness had become hatred over the past five years since he had ascended. The wounds of her heart still bled, but it was as acid instead of as tears now. She hated Tarquinn more than anything or anyone, and in her hatred she had become a monster herself.
Slowly, she sunk into the cold reverie that had protected her through the five years in which the Elven ranger Liaedra had become Raziel. She lived only for two things: revenge and death. The former she had in abundance, and yet she still craved more. She would never stop trying to hurt Quinn until she died.
The latter never seemed to come to her, no matter how often she threw herself in harm's way. Death was a phantom lover for her, always there teasing her, but never embracing her. Had she not been so prideful (or perhaps cowardly), she would have accomplished the deed herself. But she preferred to destroy all she could, in hopes that justice's arrow would finally grant her oblivion.
She rose quietly, placing the dark mask over her face so devoid of emotion that it seemed carved out of stone. Her small camp, if it could be called that, was set deep in the woods, a forest with its pine branches so closely knit that no sun could peek through. She had taken a momentary rest here, against a tree, waiting for nightfall to shroud her deeds. She had no fear of discovery in her rest, for few passed through these woods, and when she wanted she was a light sleeper.
Raziel smiled, picking up her bow from where it lay at her side. Tonight…. Ah, tonight would be a joy indeed for her. Even from here she could hear the laughter, the music, and the sounds of the revelry nearby. For but a few minutes wk away was a clearing and in this clearing lay a temple, a temple to the newest God of Faerun.
And tonight was his festival. The priests were all there, as were many followers, dancing and drinking and making merry….. An all too prefect opportunity for Raziel, to damage Tarquinn and to shame him in his followers eyes as well. She would destroy his temple as his worshippers watched, and she would laugh.
In the four years since Tarquinn's ascension, five temples had appeared, in Baldur's Gate, this remote location near Athkatla, and in several other places. This, of all five, was the only one left. Raziel had destroyed all others.
That had left everyone in a tizzy. There were warrants out for her head, bounty hunters looking for her, and every manner of do-gooder adventurers searching for her. Still, she had not been caught. Despite her wish to die she had no intention of doing so just yet, not when she was so close to destroying the last temple.
It was time. The celebrations were at full height, and it was the best moment to act. Raziel walked briskly towards the temple, her twisted smile turning into a blank mask.
Imoen smiled over at the priests and priestesses of her ascended brother. It was five years to the day of his ascension, and thusly his 'birthday' was being celebrated with song, dance, and general happiness. She sat on the sidelines, watching her beloved Kelsey dance about with the other priests Jaheira laughed heartily beside her.
The temple was average-sized; this center room was the main place of worship which could easily be converted into a ballroom-sized area for a festival, with only Tarquinn's statue left in the center. It was all made of wood, as the temple was in a wooded clearing, but the ceiling was made of glass. It was said Tarquinn himself had placed it there.
Of the four veterans of the Bhaalspawn Wars in attendance, only Sarevok wasn't smiling. He had been dragged here, quite literally, by his sister. Sarevok seemed loathe to celebrate anything to do with his brother. Tonight he was his usual scowling, angry self. He kept looking upwards, as if he expected the heavens to start raining fire.
She smiled and slapped his shoulder. "Hey, cheer up, Sare. This is bro's festival. We should be happy!"
She growled. "Something does not feel right. I am not sure what, but I feel something ominous will happen." He blinked. "And don't call me Sare."
Jaheira grinned. "And what do you could possibly happen?" She looked up at the sky mockingly. "Is the sky going to fall?"
Raziel smiled slightly as she reached her sniper point. The trees in the area were tall, and this particular one was taller than the temple itself. The branch she had situated herself on was at about roof level to the temple, perfect for her method of destruction.
Raziel pulled her bow off her back. It was plain, but black as night, as were her loose-fitting leathers, boots, and the scabbard of her sword. She was without color; her skin and lips were as pale as her white hair, and her eyes were but a dull grey.
From her quiver, Raziel drew an enchanted fire arrow and notched it quickly, aiming for the sky above the temple. She let the arrow fly, angling her shot so that the arrow would hit the glass ceiling of the temple.
Before Sarevok could answer Jaheira in some condescending way, an arrow answered for her. With a resounding shatter, a pane of the glass ceiling shattered, raining down shards of glass upon the partygoers currently in the temple. The arrow landed directly in the table Jaheira and Sarevok sat at, and the table quickly caught flames.
Raziel smirked as she heard the glass shatter and the shocked screams of the inhabitants. She quickly began sending a volley of fire arrows into the temple.
In no time the temple was aflame. Silently, Sarevok cursed whatever idiot had built a temple out of wood as he helped Jaheira and Imoen get the others out of the temple. The arrows kept coming, and he knew the temple would be incinerated very quickly.
Kelsey was one of the first to get out of the temple, as he was swept away by the frightened crowd of priests and worshippers. While waiting for the others to find him, he found himself looking to find the source of the arrows. His eyes swept the sky until they noticed the direction the arrows were coming from. Deciding to end the assault, he hurried off in the general direction of the arrow's flight.
Imoen had just gotten the last of the people out of the temple when she saw Kelsey running off towards an edge of the clearing. She followed, discerning that he must have found the source of their troubles.
Kelsey reached the tall tree where the arrows were coming from. He lit a discreet mage light and saw a shadowy figure with a bow on a branch far above them. He quickly sent a magic missile at the figure to stop their attack. A curse in what sounded like Elvish reached his ears as the spell hit the person and the figure tumbled towards the ground. Whoever it was was extremely agile, and they landed on their feet still clutching the bow. The person quickly drew an arrow and let it fly. It caught Kelsey in the shoulder, throwing him to the ground. The pain and the impact knocked him out cold.
Raziel cursed whatever mage had attacked her. She had not wanted to hurt anyone tonight; she never did. Despite the hate-filled creature she had become, she had held on to a shred of her humanity. She still disliked killing innocent people, and even in her vendetta against Quinn she had never killed anyone. Despite the fact that the misguided fools in the temple worshipped her enemy, they were still innocents, and did not deserve death. In fact, she had saved several of the fools from the last temple she had destroyed who had been unable to flee. Usually when she burned down the temples she made sure everyone was awake and had a chance to get out. She would never become a murderer,
She could see another figure approaching her. She dropped her bow, as there was no point in using it at such close range, and drew her short sword.
Imoen lit a ball of light in her hand. She wanted to see her attacker, to see who would dare do something as horrible as burn down a temple. The figure blinked in the sudden light. It was a she, and from the look of her ears, Elvish. Then recognition dawned in the attacker's eyes, and a moment later, on Imoen.
Those eyes… she remembered them so well. Whether filled with contagious laughter or heart wrenching tears, she had seen them many times before. They were a dull grey now, but Imoen could remember when they had been a glowing silver.
And the hair….. pale white, hanging limply as if from a corpse, but she could remember when it had been like strands of moonlight.
The face… covered in the scars of battle and time, worn as the face of an elf so seldom was, but Imoen could remember when it had been smooth and bright, with a smile almost always lighting it up.
She knew this person, though she had not seen her in five years.
"Liaedra…." she whispered.
At the sound of her name, Raziel reeled back as if shot. She stared wide-eyed at Imoen, finally recognizing her close friend. Still in shock, she realized with a glance that the mage trying to prop himself up with one arm on the ground was Kelsey.
Damn it! They weren't supposed to be here! She wanted to hurt them least of all! Even if Quinn had abandoned her, her other friends never had. They had been there for her as she dealt with the pain of her loss.
Imoen gasped. "Liae! What's happened to you! All those scars….. Why are you doing this?"
"You know as well as I do," Raziel replied, her self-imposed mask covering the emotion on her face. "Tarquinn deserves no temples in his name. And my name is Raziel, not Liaedra. Remember that, Imoen."
"Liae," Imoen began.
Raziel turned away, allowing one last glance at her old friend. Imoen saw a sudden spark of pain and longing in the elf's eyes, almost as if Raziel was begging her to help her. But then the glint was gone, and Raziel turned away and disappeared into the night.
Imoen was still staring into the direction of her old friends disappearance when Jaheira and Sarevok came upon her. Imoen was stopping the bleeding of Kelsey's shoulder, but it was clear both of their minds were elsewhere. Jaheira hurriedly pushed Imoen away and healed Kelsey, leaving Sarevok questioned his sister.
"Did you find who did this?" he asked.
Imoen only whispered, "Liae."
"What?" asked Sarevok, confused. What did the long gone elf lover of his brother have to do with anything?
"It was Liaedra who lit the flames," Kelsey explained. "We found her here. She shot me, then recognized us and fled."
Jaheira looked up. "Liae? Quinn's Liae?"
Imoen nodded. "But she looked so different. She was so….. cold."
Sarevok smirked. "Liaedra, eh? Quinn's greatest mistake…."
Next Chapter: Sarevok's curiosity overtakes him, and we hear more ravings from Liaedra! Enjoy!