As the Fire Rises

Chapter One: Dianthus

***Just a friendly reminder this is a sequel to As the Ash Settles***

For the past decade, Astarion and the others had scrounged every book, infiltrated every temple, searched well into every whisper they heard, they had gone to every seer, begged to every god and devil alike yet nothing pointed them to Aelius and Diana if anything Astarion felt as if they were further from finding his children. He had left the others to venture on his own, they made their fuss and disapprovals but did not stop the pale elf. His home at Waterdeep was nothing but a cruel memory for him, one of where his wife was taken from him, his children, and where he felt his friends giving up hope of finding his children.

His newest lead had him back to Baldur's Gate, back to the temple that he had searched so many times. He knew every secret it held, every nook and cranny. Yet word from Wyll's father of a recent string of murders much like the ones he and the others had stopped before was happening again. Symbols of Bhaal and death were remaking their claim upon Baldur's Gate.

Baldur's Gate had gradually changed in the past ten years, rebuilding, reunifying though Astarion could hear the whispers as he walked through the lower city much like when he was a high elf, Bhaalspawn struck fear into every man, woman, and child. Tomorrow's morning sun he would meet with Ravenguard to discuss in detail what all had been happening in Baldur's Gate.

The night was still young and sleep was not on his mind, he made his way through the city, memories of his love lost danced for front as it did every time he came. He had planned on taking Aelius and Diana here once, to show them of their mother's heroics. He wondered what they were like now if they were even still alive. He growled with the thought, a decade without so much as a whisper of his children Astarion pushed the thought aside he looked around he had been walking aimlessly. The graveyard of where he was once buried looked back at him.

A young elf sat by his grave, she laid a flower upon it. Astarion shook his head, he thought he must of been seeing things. "Citrine" he mouthed. But, there she was freckled with hair that shone like dewed hay. Astarion ran from from the gates of the cemetery, the girl startled by the noise took off. She moved like a cat, slinking around headstones, climbing her way up the ivy ridden walls. She looked to him before dropping herself on the other side of the wall, scarlet eyes like his own peered back at him.

Astarion followed as fast as his feet would carry him, climbing and dropping over the wall he looked around at the empty street, she was no where to be seen. Were his eyes playing cruel tricks, she looked so much like Citrine but those were the eyes of his daughter he yelled "Diana!" The empty street gave no reply.

Astarion searched every direction no sign or trace the girl ever was there. He made his way back to his grave, a white flower much like the one Citrine left laid across it. Astarion picked it up holding it to his heart. A single tear dropped on the dirt beneath him.

Morning came as he sat back to his headstone, his eyes fought meditation  throughout night waiting for her to return, though she never did. The sounds of the city soon flooded his pointed ears, he pondered if he had become delirious over the years. But there she had been, Diana beautiful like her mother and as quick as well.