The weight of everything begins to settle over my shoulders like a leaden shroud as we walk back into the main part of the tavern. Astarion is a comforting presence at my side, always touching me just as before. I'm fighting the urge to throw myself into his arms and hold him as close as I can, to tether myself to him soul and all, but that's not what he requires. I recognize that he needs my strength, even though everything inside of me screams for comfort. I must be his.
This is not our first time staring out at the end of the world, so to speak, and I doubt it will be the last.
It's odd how the rest of the tavern feels like it's in another time, like the conversation that just took place happened out of sync with everything that is going on.
Gale and Karlach remain at the table where we left them, Karlach laughing and touching Gale as she talks and he smiles shaking his head. She straightens as we approach the booth, I slide in and Astarion sits beside me his body language easy as it always is, not betraying the storm I know gathering in his thoughts.
"Where did you two run off to? Do I want to know?" Karlach asks, looking between us and raising her brows.
"I took Nymeria to meet my family." Astarion's voice is light, teasing but I can hear the frustration underneath.
"Oh!" Karlach smiles, it immediately fades, "Oh. Not good then. Terrible."
Astarion looks over to Gale, "Does that book of yours say anything about stopping a ritual?"
Gale opens Rites, Rituals and Sigils of Avernus and thumbs through the pages, "Now, are you certain it's a ritual and not a rite?"
"What's the difference?" Astarion asks, waving his hand.
"Mainly semantics in a linguistic sense, but it's very particular especially in the ways spells are crafted in Avernus or any of the Nine Hells. The devil, as it turns out, is in the details." Gale lets out a bit of a chuckle at that.
I try to keep from smiling. "Gale." I say, nodding to get him to hurry up.
"Oh." Gale says, "Well, a rite is typically seen as something that is only done once. It's very particular in it's completion in spite of the spell being fairly vague. Nothing can destroy it once it's solid and done, it's a binding contract unless one of the parties dies." He looks down and searches the page, "A ritual, on the other hand, much more lax. It's more about intention and you can substitute certain aspects for others. Rituals can be disturbed when they are begun, rites cannot."
"Unless Cazador is dead." Astarion says.
"Yes, if he begins the rites, you will have to murder him to break the contract. Any reagents, be it in this case, souls, are bound until then." Gale swallows.
"Rites of Profane Ascension." Astarion recites, "He plans to complete them during the next full moon."
"At midnight, I assume." Gale says. "Magic is a bit like poetry. It likes to set the scene."
"The next full moon." Karlach says, "That's what? Three nights away?"
"Two nights." Gale corrects, looking over at her.
"How do you figure?" She asks, I press my fingers to the bridge of my nose.
"Tonight counts as one, tomorrow another so the third night would be the full moon. You don't count that one." Gale traces a couple shapes on the wooden table to illustrate.
"It still feels like it'd be three to me." Karlach says.
"What can we do?" I ask, my voice coming out a bit more shrill than I anticipated. Gale and Karlach look at me and I take a breath, "Other than charging into Cazador's Palace and potentially getting ourselves killed in the process."
Karlach looks to Astarion, "How does one even kill a vampire? I get with a spawn, simple stake to the heart and you're golden."
I turn to Astarion beside me and notice he has been staring at me. My heart sinks all over again.
"True vampires can only be killed in their regenerative state." He says, "When they've gone back to ground or their coffin. Sunlight will damage them. Running water, and holy water will paralyze them and keep them from taking their mist forms to escape. To kill them completely in their vulnerable state, one needs to plunge a stake wrapped in silver directly into their heart." He looks down, "As for if he completes the ritual. There's no telling."
Gale frowns, "A stake wrapped with silver? That might take a while to procure. First to track down a blacksmith or a jeweler that is used to working with such a soft material."
"Cazador has one." Astarion says, "Last I checked he keeps it in his family's crypt. Buried in the heart of his former vampire master, Vellioth. He loves the added bit of disgrace, the former master forever held by his former spawn."
"A Vampire Lord's family crypt." Karlach leaned in, her brows raised, "That sounds dangerous. Something like that could be quite heavily guarded."
Astarion shrugs, "He keeps a number of reanimated skeletal guards, ones he's had under his control for hundreds of years. The palace is swarming with them, I doubt the crypts would be any different. That, and now he's added werewolves." He continues, "By now he knows I'm back in the city—"
Karlach smiles, her fangs peaking out, "Fuck yes. Let's go."
"I will say I am also in the mood for a little adventure." Gale says with a nod. "Where is this crypt?"
"The old Szarr family grounds, not too far from his palace."Astarion says looking between us all.
"Well, I'll go settle our tab." Karlach says getting up she looks down to Gale, "I don't suppose you could lend me..."
Gale rolls his eyes, "Fine. Come on."
"Perfect." Karlach smiles as she walks towards the bar, Gale following closely behind with his books in hand.
I turn to get up and Astarion stays there, his hand braced on the table and the divider behind me, his eyes searching mine.
"I'm not telling you to stay back." He says, swallowing. There's a vulnerability in his eyes that I haven't seen before. It almost scares me.
"Good." I say, lifting my chin in defiance.
"I'm also not telling you that this isn't your fight." His jaw flexes.
"So we're not having a disagreement about this." I reply.
"Nymeria." The way he says my name is like a gentle caress. Like a prayer from his lips.
"It's not their fight either, Astarion." I reach and run my finger along his jaw, trying to soothe away the tension in his stare. "You have friends that care for you. Friends that will fight for you."
"I didn't ask them to." He furrows his brow.
"You didn't need to, my love." I search his face and runs my fingers through his hair. "I know what you're feeling. This is a lot. Killing him, is going to be a lot. I have every bit of faith that we can do it."
"How can you?" Astarion asks, his brow creasing. "I feel like I'm drowning to be quite honest."
"Then hold onto me. I will take you ashore."
—
As we leave the tavern it's nearing dusk and the city that was once this brilliant and vibrant place is beginning to dull, turning into something completely different. Shadows threaten to swallow the last bit of light from the hanging lanterns, every face that passes painted in harsh lights rendering their expressions malicious or judgmental even with the softest of smiles and acknowledgment. The sky looks like it's bleeding above us. Everything about this coming night feels electric, like anything is possible.
This is what Astarion has experienced for the last nearly 200 years of his life.
Astarion leads us deep into the city, far from the bustling center and crossing into a more worn in neighborhood. The buildings look like they're moving from the way they lean this way and that in disrepair with wood barring up many doors and windows while meager lantern lights glow from the windows of others.
I jump at a scuffle as I pass an alleyway, a cat hollers it's displeasure into the night.
Astarion reaches back and grabs my arm, "Uh uh uh," He says with a smile on his lips, "You're staying with me. No rescuing animals and getting yourself snatched up"
I roll my eyes and try to give him a look of disdain, but instead smile back at him.
The farther we go the more sparse the building come until we reach a stone archway at the end of the sandstone path, the whole area overgrown with every manner of weed, the trees twisting in on themselves and punching holes through the fence that borders the cemetery.
Astarion points towards the diverging path, "The family home was just up that way. It was torn down well before my time and since Cazador owns this section of the city nothing has been done to repair it." He explains, "There's a lot of bad blood in that family from what I know."
His grip slides down my arm until his fingers are interlaced in mine, it's enough to soothe the nervous pit in my stomach as we walk into the cemetery. I look back to see Gale conjure a magical light in his palm, eyeing the trees warily while Karlach has more interest in the vines and brush at her feet than anything else. Stepping carefully as if she thinks some might be enchanted.
"Is this where you're..." I begin to ask.
"Gods no." Astarion cuts me off, "I haven't been back there since." He exhales, "I will show you. One day."
My eyes wander over the broken headstones poking through the overgrowth, darkened by dirt, moss and possibly mold. Everyone here forgotten for hundreds of years if not more, if Astarion is correct.
"Here." He says as we reach a mausoleum.
The metal bars that once protected it are propped up against the side, a violent growth of vines snakes through the doorway as they're swallowed by the darkness inside.
It doesn't look anything like a crypt as we step inside. The room is barely enough for the one stone coffin in the center of the building, the recessed walls hold shelves with metal and stone urns, some wrenched from their places and long emptied while others just lay broken from the work of graverobbers.
"This can't be right." Astarion growls, his voice echoing in the chamber, letting go of my hand.
"Maybe this is the wrong crypt?" Karlach says, nudging some of the urns with her greataxe.
I walk forward and look at the stone coffin, running my fingers along the under side of the lid searching for a seam. When I don't find one I bend over and furrow my brow. "It's not real."
"Looks pretty real to me." Gale says.
"No, it's real. It's just not a coffin." I say running my hand along the side down to the base.
There's a build up of dust and debris surrounding the stone base, I brush a bit away with my finger and find a break between the coffin and for stone floor.
"Karlach." I say looking up. Astarion tilts his head at me inquisitively.
"Yeah?" Karlach responds, walking forward, she looks down at where my hand is and exclaims, "Oh. Right." She presses her hands to the side of the stone coffin and pushes.
The sound of stone scraping against stone fills the small room as she uncovers the stairwell hidden below the coffin. The cool air below hits my nose and it smells like any other damp cavern I have been in, but still as far as I can tell it remains undisturbed.
Gale moves towards the stairs, reaching his conjured light out to illuminate the passage way.
"It goes down quite a ways." He says looking back to us.
"Are we ready?" Karlach asks.
Astarion lets out a sigh and starts down the stairs without responding. I look to Gale and Karlach giving them a shrug as I move to follow him, my hand gingerly touching the wall as I descend into the darkness.
"I'll take that as a yes." Karlach says behind me.