To Baldur's Gate

Chapter Twenty-Nine

After the vampire bitch had dumped me into a cell, I cast a healing rune on myself to stop my wound from bleeding. It would have been too ironic to die in a vampire lair by bleeding out from an arrow piercing rather than by a feeding frenzy. When the bleeding at stopped, I took a deep breath and analyzed my situation. 

My cell was dark and the coppery smell of blood stunk up the entire dungeon. I pressed myself up against the golden bars of my cell and peered out, seeing at least four more cage doors like my own in the hallway I was in. The floors and walls seemed to be made out of pure jade - the dim lights shone against the beautiful green rock and cast an eerie light across everything. Across the hall was a cell full of ... eyes. Red eyes. Faceless in the shadows. The eyes of vampire spawn. Just like Astarion.

Something broke in my chest as Astarion's face flashed in my mind while Dalyria swept me away in her cloud of darkness. His eyes were frantic, and he was screaming for me, calling for help, for anyone. Gods, I hoped the others had found him, and quickly. I didn't know how long vampire teleporting took and I couldn't see the sky from the mountainous dungeon, so there was no way for me to know how long I had been away for. 

I tried to use a knock spell to unlock the cell door, but my magic fizzled away into the darkness. 

"Well shit." I tried again. Same effect. "Shit." 

"Your magic will not work here, little drowling," a disembodied voice echoed through the chambers. 

"Who's there?" I called out. 

A figure appeared on the other side of the bars, and I could chitter coming from the other cells. They knew who this was. 

"You need not know me, you need only fear me," the man, obviously a vampire, spoke to me. His scarlet eyed stare filled me with dread. 

"Cazador." Rage filled me and I ran at the bars, stretching my hands through the reach for his neck. He would pay for what he had done to Astarion. I would make him pay. 

"Now, now," Cazador cooed. He made a motion with the staff he held, and a jolt of electricity buzzed from the cell door, zapping me and sending me reeling. "We mustn't touch, little one." 

"Go to hell," I seethed, aching from the shocking I'd received. 

"My darling, I've been to the hells," Cazador purred. With another tap of his staff, he stepped right through the bars, as if he were a ghost. "I've made deals with devils. I've created an army that will ravage the entirety of Baldur's Gate the moment I ascend and I'm the one who controls the worm in your head. You are no match for me." 

I spit at him before muttering a quick daylight spell, filling the cell with light as bright as the dawn itself. Cazador's smile only grew wider as he opened his arms, embracing the brightness. Nothing happened. Just as Astarion and his "siblings" could venture into the sun, Cazador was blessed as well. Great. How was this monster reigning this "power of the absolute"? How had Cazador come in contact with mindflayers? My mind swirled with all the questions. 

"Small, wretched little drow, trying to play a game you cannot win." Cazador stepped closer to me, and closer, until he had me pressed against the dank and slightly moist wall. "Before my boy returns, you and I are going to become well acquainted. I hope you're ready for some amusement." 

"I don't plan on telling any jokes, if that's what you mean," I growled, meeting his awful gaze. The way he stared made me feel like nothing more than a piece of meat. And he was a very, very hungry wolf. 

Cazador laughed, completely flat and devoid of emotion. "Sing for me." 

"No." I wasn't about to play any of his games. 

He slapped me across the face, short and painful. He demanded once again. "Sing." 

I shook my head. He slapped me once again, harder. I tried to push him away and he grabbed me, throwing me onto the ground and stepping on my left hand. 

"Let me hear you, drowling." Cazador stomped on the hand, and I shrieked, the pain searing up my entire arm and down to my toes. Stars blurred my vision. Cazador laughed. 

"Yes! Brava, little one. Again!" He shuffled around and placed his foot on my kneecap. Cazador waited for me to make a sound, to beg him not to, but I refused. With this knowledge, he crunched down on my leg, completely breaking it. 

I screamed and cried, the tears falling down my cheeks and onto the dirty floor. Cazador stepped off of me and waved his arms around like he was conducting a symphony. Heat and pain radiated from my shattered hand and broken knee, and I wanted to throw up from the unfairness of it all. 

"Astarion has chosen well. You have such a lovely voice, my dear." Cazador walked away from me, and I heard the tap of his staff against the floor. "I'll be back in a few hours, little one. Then we'll have some real fun." 

I could hear the click of his boots all the way down the hall. Staring up at the imaginary stars on the ceiling, I thought of my sisters. My mother. Astarion. I prayed that he wouldn't come back here. I hope he had enough sense to stay away. We both knew I was going to die in this place, although perhaps not as quickly as I had hoped. With the whole world tilting, I fell unconscious, tears still flowing down my cheeks.