The Ascendancy of the Vampire

25. I Didn’t Dare Hope

Astor and Kal stalked the lower dungeons of Moonrise Towers. They overheard cultists mention that Mint was moved there for processing.

“We need to hurry,” Kal gasped.

“I need you to not explode here, Kal,” Astor whispered sternly, holding Kal’s shoulder. “We cannot afford our covers being blown.”

They eventually found the room that Mint was imprisoned in. The door was locked, and Astor extracted his thieve’s tools, kneeling down at the doorknob and quieting picking at it. With a soft click, he smoothly opened the door. They peered inside.

On the opposite wall, two deep gnomes stood over Mint, who sat on the floor, hanging from her wrists. The gnomes were in calm discussion, speaking like they were watching a show and giving their opinions.

“Little Mint was a pathetic drow, brought up from the darkness and into the Absolute’s light. But Jasin, she wasted all our Lady offered,” one of the gnome said in a sickening sweet voice.

“Little Mint was cherished, but it wasn’t enough. You know, Sumera? She was distracted by her own desires,” the one called Jasin replied mockingly.

“Bloodlust. Murder. Chaos,” Sumera continued. “An inability to follow orders.”

“And most damning of all, an unexpected weakness—a longing for acceptance and affection,” Jasin added. “Yes, we see it all, Mint.” She raised her hand and touched one finger to her temple, sending a wave of immense psychic assault into Mint’s mind.

“You have no right—hnngnn.” Mint shuddered in pain, gritting her teeth. She then fell limp with a pained sob.

“We have every right,” Sumera replied smugly.

Mint raised her head, her eyes meeting Kal’s. Sumera noticed, turning around as Kal walked in. Astor peered in through the door, then gently closed it, standing guard outside.

“Come to observe, True Soul? She is a lesson—none can rise so high that they cannot fall again.”

“What are you doing to her?” Kal asked. He wore a nondescript smile.

“We are erasing her,” Sumera explained.

“Oh?’ Kal’s hand twitched. “Well, I’ve been instructed to handle this prisoner myself.”

“No,” Sumera replied immediately. “This is our duty.”

“Peace, sister,” Jasin said. “Let us observe the True Soul’s methods—perhaps we can learn from him.” She turned to Kal. “Her mind is yours. Break it.”

He stepped forward, walking to Mint.

“No…please. Not you.” Mint looked up at Kal, wearing a desperate, pleading expression.

“You’re the one she slept with?” Jasin clapped her hands. “Oh, excellent. You will be fun.”

Kal focused on his tadpole, reaching out for Mint’s mind. Immediately, his thoughts were swept into a greater vortex. The room blurred into swirls of psionic energy, and he saw Mint alone in the center, cowering, the chaotic storm weighing down on her.

A screaming voice echoed through the mental space, disjointed and strained.

Kal reached out to the voice, acknowledging its presence, asking it to let him pass. At his forceful touch, the presence withdrew, allowing him to move closer to Mint.

Her mind was a wound, bleeding raw emotion and shattered memories. But she sensed his arrival. He slowly knelt down in front of her, placing his hands gently on her cheeks.

“Kalsarin…” she murmured, a glimmer of hope in her gaze. “I prayed that you would come.”

“That voice overhead…Is it the voice of the Absolute?” Kal asked.

“Whatever it is, it speaks inside me—it has all but destroyed me.” Mint looked at him with sorrowful eyes. “I cannot resist it while my tormentors live.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll kill them.” Kal held out a hand to her. “I’ll kill anyone who stands in your way.”

“I thought you were on Ketheric’s side. I didn’t dare hope…” She grabbed his hand and he pulled her up roughly, causing her to fall into his embrace.

“I’m sorry, I was acting. I had to throw Ketheric off my trail,” Kal explained.

“Well, you’re here now.” Mint’s mind filled with warmth and the mindscape faded.

Kal found himself back in reality, where Mint had already risen to her feet. He lunged forward, smashing the chains that attached her to the walls in one strike.

“Traitor!” Sumera screamed, pointing an angry finger at Kal, already reciting a spell.

“How dare you!” Jasin spat, gripping her twin daggers.

Kal quickly extracted a shortsword from his demicache, pushing the hilt into Mint’s hands. Then he pivoted, draconic claws materializing on his hands.

He darted towards Sumera. Two eldritch blasts hit him head on, but it didn’t slow him down. He slashed his claws in wide arcs and growled, his yellow eyes glowing in anger.

Mint blinked, realizing she was now holding a blade. She looked up and saw Jasin running towards her, daggers swinging. Mint grabbed a piece of chain with her other hand and used it to parry the daggers, then attacked with her own weapon.

The skirmish didn’t last long. The two gnomes were quickly subdued, unconscious and lying face down on the floor.

“Do the honors, Mint,” Kal said with a sharp grin.

She stabbed them right behind the neck, a satisfying smile on her face.

Astor drank his fill of gnome blood and then Kal finished off the bodies. Mint watched the crunch of the gnomes’ bones in Kal’s jaws with cruel amusement. “Is this a common occurrence in your party?”

“Oh yes, we make do with what we have,” Astor replied cheerfully, wiping blood off his chin. “Now, we should reconvene with the others.”

They picked up Mint’s travel pack, which was in a corner of the dungeons. She donned her armor and tucked her scimitars back into their sheaths.

As they walked, Kal followed Mint closely, unwilling to let her out of his sight. “Are you ok? Are you tired? I could carry your bag.”

Mint laughed. “You’ve done more than enough…Kal.”

Kal beamed. He leaned down.

“…What is it?” Mint asked cautiously.

“Pet me,” Kal said. “If I did a good job, pet me.”

Mint raised a hand to his hair, patting it softly. Kal looked like he was in heaven.

“Get a room, you two,” Astor murmured.

The three of them walked into the entrance hallway, when Astor received a Sending message from Night. A blue translucent rectangle appeared in midair, an interface only he could see. As her message transcribed itself, her voice echoed into his mind. “We spoke with Z’rell, then found a Moonlatern and snuck out the back. Meet us by the back exit on the ground floor.”

Astor responded that they were on their way.

At the back of the keep, the party of seven gathered together. They needed to get Mint away before anyone noticed.

They quickly found a side route that took them away from Moonrise Towers and into the forest. Night held the Moonlantern they found, keeping the Curse at bay.

Kal held Mint’s hand the whole way.

An hour later, they walked to an area where the curse felt lighter. They found a clearing suitable for camp. The party members spread out, setting up torches, a campfire, and their own tents.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mint,” Wyll said, shaking her hand. “My name is Wyll Ravengard.”

“And I’m Karlach.”

“I am Mint Baenre. Thank you for inviting me to your camp.”

Astor watched the introductions and sighed, speaking to Kal under his breath, “if she stabs us while we sleep, it’s your fault.”

“I hope she stabs me first,” Kal said softly.

Astor smacked Kal on his back, making Kal laugh brightly.

Night approached them, having pitched her tent by a corner of the clearing. “So what are we going to do about Mint and the Absolute’s voice?”

Mint turned around. “Ketheric said the artefact keeps the Absolute’s voice at bay, and I thought you carried it with you.”

“What? I’ve never heard of something like this,” Night replied.

“Then…how are you protected from the Absolute?” Mint asked in confusion.

“Would you believe us if we said divine intervention?’ Astor said dryly.

As if on cue, Withers stepped into the torchlight. “I see thou numbers have grown.”

“Speak of the devil,” Wyll said loudly. “Withers! Long time no see.”

Withers waved at Wyll, then he walked over to Mint. Kal cut him off, stepping between them protectively.

“Relax, young dragon. I am merely curious.”

“Will you protect her too, Withers?” Kal said earnestly. “I’ll do anything.”

“Thou art already doing what is necessary,” Withers replied, waving his hand dismissively. “As long as she travels wit thou.”

Kal breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Um…” He folded his arms in front of him. “Praise be to the God of Death and his friend Withers!”

Night bursted out laughing. “Good try, Kal.”

In front of campfire, the party sat with bowls of stew and attentive stares. Withers sat with them, and he and Astor both held a glass of red wine, courtesy of Night’s wine cellar.

Night stood in front of the fire. “So Ketheric wants us to find his daughter. Her name is Isobel. Apparently she’s at a rebellious age and she ran away from home.”

“That cannot be the entire story,” Astor spoke up, suspicious. “But it’s a lead. Do you know where we can start looking?”

“Z’rell says Isobel is at a place called Last Light,” Wyll explained. “That you can see it across the river.”

“We also found remnants of both Sharran and Selûnite worship in Moonrise Towers. Closets of religious items like books and holy symbols,” Shadowheart said. “In fact, Isobel’s bedroom still contained items marked with Selûne’s symbols.”

“Who does Ketheric worship?” Astor asked.

Night gave him a flat look. “Uh…The Absolute?”

“But the Absolute isn’t actually a god, right?” Astor continued thoughtfully.

“Well, not that we know of…” Night said, looking uneasily at Mint.

Mint waved her hand. “Whatever the Absolute is, there is a strong presence coming from far underground, beneath Moonrise.”

“I felt it too,” Kal piped up. “In fact, I heard the Absolute’s voice when I was in Mint’s mind. It’s definitely not a deity, but there’s no doubt that it’s powerful.”

“I guess we’ll find out eventually,” Astor said. “But first, you all saw Ketheric’s invulnerability. If we hope to defeat him, we need to figure out the source of that power and dismantle it.”

“It is concerning,” Karlach added. “He shrugged off attacks that should have killed him.”

“Whatever the ability comes from, it is incredible potent. I’d even wager there is a divine component to it,” Night mused. She yawned, and then finished the rest of her stew.

“We’ve had a long day,” Astor continued. “Meeting is adjourned. Rest up, everyone.”

Mint carried her own tent. She pitched it near the campfire, where Kal usually slept. Kal moved his bedroll closer, almost at the entrance of Mint’s tent, and though he was in his humanoid disguise, he was perched there like some sort of guard dog.

Astor watched as Kal and Mint talked quietly while staring at the smoldering remains of the campfire. He thought it was incredible that the wild dragon could actually be so serene, restrained, and dare he say, domesticated. Love really changed people.

His face twisted with disgust. What a farce, to change yourself for another. In the end, love was a weakness, and to be beholden to another was no different than becoming a slave. Mint is definitely the winner in this arrangement, he thought, watching Kal happily cater to her every whim.

He turned and entered Night’s tent, finding her already showered and on the couch, reading.

“I thought you were tired, Night. You’re not sleeping yet?” Astor asked.

“Oh,” Night looked up. “Er, just a little reading. What about you?”

“I’m going to practice the Message cantrip tonight.” He sat down on the couch and opened Convenience Cantrips: A Catalogue. “If you aren’t sleeping yet, want to help me?”

“I thought you didn’t need my help?” Night gave him a sly smirk.

“Well, Message is kind of a two person spell,” he said without missing a beat.

Night’s smile disappeared. “Right.” She rubbed her neck awkwardly.

After a few rounds of practice sending telepathic messages to Night, Astor closed his book. “I heard from Wyll that Z’rell forcibly dived into your mind.” He wore a worried expression, and he reached out, gently caressing her face. “Are you ok?”

“…she was trying to test my faith in the Absolute,” Night explained softly, leaning into his touch. “She wasn’t able to dig far.” Then she grinned sheepishly. “I didn’t know you cared.”

“I wouldn’t want my wizard out of commission,” Astor explained simply, pulling his hand back. “With that in mind, you should go to bed. I don’t want you complaining about being tired tomorrow.”

“I should,” Night mumbled, yawning widely. She stared at him for a beat, and he tilted his head in bemusement. She laughed slowly and then stood up, shuffling to her room. “Good night, Astor.”

“Sleep tight, Night,” he replied. Then he opened his notebook, scribbling down the events of the day.

Once he heard Night’s door close, he smiled to himself. Night stayed up to spend more time with him, even though she was exhausted. Everything was going according to plan.