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Assistant: Title: A Wayward Heart of Emberlight
        Author: helyanwe4608 helyanwe4608 
        Chapter: 2/3 
        Summary: When Ada, a woman from Earth, is ripped from her familiar life and thrust into the fantastical and brutal world of Faerûn, she finds herself transformed-horns, a tail, and newfound magic marking her as something entirely new. Captured by mind flayers, Ada must escape the nightmarish nautiloid ship, teaming up with unlikely allies. In Faerûn, Ada must come to terms with her changed body and magic while grappling with the terrifying reality of the parasite in her head. As she journeys through this war-torn world, Ada learns that survival means more than just staying alive-it's about finding purpose, forging friendships, and holding on to hope. Amidst battles, ancient curses, and clashes with gods and devils, Ada is forced to confront the parts of herself she never knew existed. Torn between preserving her humanity and embracing the power within, she must make impossible choices that will shape the fate of Faerûn-and her own heart.This is a work of fanfiction based on Baldur's Gate 3 by Larian Studios. I do not own the characters, settings, or concepts from the original game. All rights to Baldur's Gate 3 belong to Larian Studios and Wizards of the Coast.
        Contents: Chapter 2: Day 2 - Ancient Ruins
    

    

        
          
          
            Ada takes her first real steps into Faerûn — disoriented, transformed, and trying very hard not to fall apart in front of her new… companions.Content Warnings:Light body horror, emotional overwhelm, identity disconnection, and mild threat of violence.Spoilers for Baldur’s Gate 3 — obviously.Thank you for sticking with her. Updates will (hopefully!) be bi-weekly — one day / long rest at a time.Comments are always welcome — I love hearing what you think.
          
        

  

  
  
    
    Ada awoke to the scent of brine and smoke. The wreckage of the Nautiloid was scattered all around her, strewn across the beach and the surrounding cliffs. Somehow, she was alive. Somehow, she had escaped those monsters with no more than a few bruises.She checked herself for injuries, but found none. Dizzy and disoriented, she slowly sat up, realizing that she must have been lying there on the beach for hours. Judging by the heat pressing down on her and the slightly elongated shadows around her, she guessed it was early afternoon.Shakily, Ada got to her feet, feeling the pull of the tadpole in her mind—a constant, invasive presence that nudged the edge of her consciousness. She forced herself to take a few breaths, grounding herself in the reality of the sun and the salty breeze brushing her skin.She made her way to the edge of the shallow water, half expecting her own reflection to have returned to normal. Maybe her other senses were playing tricks on her and she was not an orange-skinned... Tiefling? But no.The sight that greeted her made her heart skip. The rippling surface distorted her features, but even through the blur, Ada could still make out the familiar curves and shadows of her face.Her eyes seemed almost the same, but now crowned with pink-amber eyebrows, a contrast to her still-black lashes. A shiver raced up her spine when she caught a glimpse of her ears—stretched back, elegantly pointed, adorned with the familiar rings and studs Ada had worn in her non-pointy human ears before.The memory of Lae’zel and Shadowheart flickered through her mind—their fierce, almost otherworldly beauty. But her own blend of strange, unfamiliar features marked her as something else entirely.Her gaze dropped to her canines in the reflection. She moved her tongue over them hesitantly. They felt sharper and more pronounced than before. She thought back to the devils she had seen on the ship, also with sharpened teeth.No, Ada thought, I am not one of them. Shadowheart called me a tiefling.Although Ada had no idea what that meant. She was no closer to an answer, but one thing was clear: she was, in many ways, no longer herself.But really, all that mattered now was that she was alive and mostly unharmed—more than she’d expected after everything that had happened. The worm still lurked in her mind, but she pushed the fear down. For now, all she could do was keep moving.Ada carefully made her way through the debris, the soft hiss of steam whispered up where seawater lapped against red-hot fragments, casting wisps of vapour into the air.A few paces away, she caught sight of a familiar form sprawled on the sand. It was the woman she’d freed from one of the pods on the ship.Shadowheart lay unconscious, her long, dark hair dusted with soot, a striking contrast against her strange armour. She looked almost like a performer, dressed for some intense, Gothic rock production—but Ada knew nothing of what that outfit symbolized here.Ada approached cautiously, her footfalls swallowed by the sand, and knelt down beside her. For a brief moment, her eyes snagged on the small artefact lying next to Shadowheart’s hand, its gleaming surface alien and enticing, but she forced herself to focus on the woman herself.Reaching out, Ada laid a hand on Shadowheart’s shoulder and gently shook her awake. Her eyelids fluttered, and she slowly blinked at Ada.“You’re alive,” she murmured, more to herself than Ada. “I’m alive. How is this possible…?”As she rose, Shadowheart's hand moved in a quick, practised motion to pocket the artefact. Her movements graceful, almost disarmingly smooth. Ada forced herself not to react, swallowing her curiosity and trying for a lighter tone, something to lift the strange heaviness between them.She managed a small, joking smile. “Perhaps it was some dramatically timed divine intervention?”Shadowheart’s eyes narrowed, her scepticism shutting down Ada’s attempt at humor.“The divine tend to keep their interventions close to the chest,” she replied coolly, then her voice softened slightly. “Though I suppose it’s…not impossible.”They fell into silence, the tension undercut by the distant crackle of the burning wreckage and the rolling crash of waves against the shore.Shadowheart made Ada nervous. Her cool detachment and her guarded demeanour made her feel constantly assessed and judged. Part of her wanted to walk away from the goth-looking elf right then and there, just to avoid feeling so vulnerable.But where would she even go? She had no idea what to do, where she was. She had nothing to make sense of this world and Ada was acutely aware she would not last a day on her own here.Ada's mind whirred; she needed something to hold onto, a plan, anything to anchor her. She glanced back at Shadowheart, almost nervous.“Now what?”Shadowheart took in the scene, her eyes sharpening. “First things first—we need supplies, shelter, and, most importantly, a healer.”The words had a weight to them, grounding Ada in the smallest way, and she nodded, a faint relief slipping into her chest. This was a plan, an actual path forward. Shadowheart’s gaze shifted to Ada’s face.“We might have escaped, but we still have these little monsters in our heads.”The word ‘we’ was a positive surprise for Ada. Did Shadowheart really mean it—that they’d face this together? A fragile hope kindled in her chest. She had not expected this offer, had been ready to beg on her knees to not be left behind.“We? You want to stay together?”, Ada heard herself say.A measured look crossed Shadowheart’s face. “We need each other, and we both know what’s at stake. I can’t think of better company.”Right, Ada thought with a hint of grumpiness, don’t sound so excited.But her heart thudded a little too loudly with relief for her own sass to feel candid.“All right,” she said instead, trying not to sound too eager. “Let’s get moving.”Shadowheart’s expression softened for just a moment, a look of gratitude she seemed hesitant to express.“One thing, before we go,” she said, her tone a little friendlier now. “Thank you, again, for freeing me. It would have been easy for you to run right past my pod, but you didn’t. I’ll remember that.”Ada met her gaze and gave her a small, encouraging smile.
  Maybe she does not completely think I’m useless. That’s a start.
“Sure. I’m glad to have made an ally.”, Ada said, trying not to sound too relieved.Shadowheart nodded down the path ahead. “Lead the way.”Ada hesitated. Lead?She hadn’t expected that. But she steeled herself and took a cautious step forward, with Shadowheart beside her, moving together over the beach and through the fractured remains of the nautiloid.***The shore was littered with bodies and broken creatures from the crash—prisoners, twisted, human nightmares, and small, hostile beings like the ones Ada had seen in the grim laboratory on the ship. The scene was both horrifying and surreal, a grim reminder of the chaos they had narrowly survived.Shadowheart knelt beside one of the misshapen creatures, her eyes glinting with recognition.“Dead goblins,” she murmured, before deftly searching one’s pockets. “They may have something useful.”Her movements were smooth and practised, rifling through the goblin’s belongings with the cool efficiency of someone accustomed to scavenging.A moment later, she pulled out a pair of leather bracers, a short bow, and a rough, jagged set of arrows. She handed them to Ada, giving her a once-over with a critical eye.“You know how to use these?” she asked, her voice tinged with cold assessment.Ada swallowed, staring down at the crude weaponry in her hands. She had never held a bow before, never even considered it. Fighting had always been something other people in stories or movies did—she played video games, wrote stories, but wielding a weapon? That was a different world entirely.Still, something deep inside whispered that she had no choice now. She would have to learn.“No,” she admitted, her voice softer than she intended.Shadowheart’s mouth tightened, and for a moment, Ada thought she might sn@tch the bow back.Desperate to reassure her, Ada forced a small, determined nod. “I’ll try my best.”Shadowheart seemed to weigh her response, then looked away without further comment, clearly unimpressed but unwilling to argue. Ada shifted uncomfortably, adjusting the bow and arrows awkwardly before slinging them across her shoulders.They felt ridiculous next to her top and jeans, like some absurd costume. Shadowheart seemed to think the same, her gaze briefly scanning Ada’s outfit with a faintly sceptical frown.Ada caught her looking and tensed, but Shadowheart met her gaze without apology, clearly deciding to keep her thoughts to herself. But then, a moment later, Shadowheart spoke up again, her tone a little less curt.“Your shoes are unconventional. You might want to find something sturdier. Look for boots that might fit.”Ada glanced down at her own sneakers, realizing how impractical they looked amid the wreckage.“Right. I’ll look for some,” she promised, grateful for the practical advice despite the tension simmering between them.Together, they continued to sift through the debris, Ada trying to mimic Shadowheart’s efficiency, though the act of touching a corpse made her stomach twist.Was this what survival looked like? Looting the dead, trying not to think about the person they had been? The texture of the goblin’s clothing was rough and grimy under her fingers, and Ada grimaced, struggling to reconcile the necessity of it with the violation it felt like.In the end, they found no provisions—just crude weapons and scraps of armour. It seemed the goblins had assumed they would return to their camp by nightfall and hadn’t bothered to carry supplies.Shadowheart gave a terse nod as they moved on, and Ada followed, the weight of the bow and arrows awkward but increasingly familiar on her shoulders.***Later, as they crested a hill, the landscape opened up before them—rocky terrain leading to the edge of a cliff. The sky was streaked with purple and orange hues, and for a moment, Ada let herself marvel at the beauty of it.But the moment was short-lived. Ahead of them, standing near the edge of the cliff, was a man. At first, she thought he’d stepped out of a dream. Or maybe a gallery portrait. Pale skin, silver-blond hair, eyes too sharp to be kind.His jacket, a dark leather masterpiece, adorned with intricate red and gold embroidery that caught the light just enough to hint at luxury without being ostentatious, seemed perfectly tailored to fit his lean frame.He had the kind of appearance that demanded attention without effort. Ada recognized him as an elf, though he seemed paler and more even more ethereal than Shadowheart, whose goth-princess vibe was more subdued than this stranger's flamboyance.He looked expensive and out of place, his beauty almost too delicate for the rugged landscape. There was something theatrical about him. Despite the travel-worn state of his attire, the overall look spoke of nobility—refined, poised, and decidedly out of place in the wild.When he saw them approaching, he waved them over with a casual, almost too-friendly motion.“I’ve got one of those brain eating things cornered,” the man said, his voice smooth, with luring, tense tone.Ada and Shadowheart exchanged a quick glance, both wary. With a long, pale finger, he pointed toward a patch of high grass near the cliff’s edge.“There, in the grass. You can kill it, can’t you? Like you killed the others?”Ada squinted, scanning the area where he pointed. She couldn’t see anything unusual, just the swaying of the grass in the wind. She stepped forward cautiously, moving past him to get a better look.Nothing. No sign of the squid monsters from the ship. Just grass and the sound of the wind.A sharp, metallic sound pierced the air—the unmistakable scrape of a dagger unsheathing. Before Ada could turn around, something cold and hard pressed against her throat.In an instant, Ada was pulled backward and down to the ground, her body slamming against the man’s chest. She felt the blade's edge against her skin, and her breath hitched.Please, don’t cut my throat, Ada thought. Not now after I have just escaped the ship. I just want to live.“Shh,” the man whispered in her ear, his voice was the opposite of soothing.Ada could feel his breath on the back of her ear and his proximity made her almost as uneasy as the dagger did. Although his chest was pressed to her back, no warmth radiated from him. He didn’t smell like anything—not perfume or cologne, not sweat or dirt. Just... nothing, with a faint hint of roses at most.“Not a sound. Not if you want to keep that darling neck of yours.”, the elf purred.Ada’s heart raced. The man's grip was firm and controlled, like he’d done this a hundred times before. She couldn’t see him, but his presence behind her felt tense and deliberate, like someone trying to keep a firm grip on a situation slipping through his fingers.Shadowheart took a step forward, her eyes narrowing. “I need her alive, so stow that blade, or I’ll show you just how messy things can get.”Ada appreciated Shadowheart’s support, even if it was more calculating than kind. Clearly unimpressed, the man chuckled softly, his tone dripping with mockery.“Promises, promises. But I have other business, I’m afraid.” He tightened his grip on Ada slightly, his tone shifting to one of amused inquisitiveness. “Now, I saw you on the ship, didn’t I?”Ada was frozen, her mind scrambling. She had to think quickly, had to do something to get out of this. But the blade pressed a little harder against her skin, warning her not to try anything.“Nod,” the man said, his voice teasing but unmistakably dangerous.Terrified, Ada nodded, her body stiff with fear. She could feel the tension in her limbs, the unfamiliar weight of her new form making her feel even more vulnerable.“Splendid,” the man said, his voice almost cheerful. “And now you’re going to tell me exactly what you and those tentacle freaks did to me.”“I’m not... one of them,” Ada gasped, struggling to keep her voice steady. “I was taken by them too!”“Don’t lie to me!” the man hissed, his voice rising with sudden intensity.Before she could react, something strange happened. Her mind twisted, and suddenly she wasn’t herself anymore.She was seeing through unfamiliar eyes, prowling through dark, busy streets. There was a sense of hunger, of pursuit, and the image of shadows flitting through alleyways. It felt real, like she was living someone else’s life, but just as quickly as it came, the vision faded.Behind her, the man let out a sharp breath, the surprise in his tone mirroring her own. His grip on her loosened slightly.“What was that?” His voice wavered with confusion, and his grip loosened slightly.Ada could feel the tension in his body shift—less sure, more calculating. He adjusted his hold as if steadying himself, his controlled tone not quite masking the hint of panic beneath.“What’s going on?”, he breathed. Ada swallowed hard, her mind reeling.Looking into peoples head like that felt intrusive, violating even. Not to mention the pain it caused in her head.“It’s that thing in our heads,” she said, her voice hoarse from tension. “It connected us.”There was a moment of silence as the man processed what she had said.Slowly, carefully, he released her. She swallowed hard, still feeling the ghost of the blade against her throat. In a graceful motion he came to his feet and stepped back, though he didn’t lower his dagger.“You’re not one of them,” he said haltingly, his tone more thoughtful now. “They took you just the same as me.”Ada stood up with shaking limbs. She stumbled a little, rubbing her throat where the dagger had been. Her legs felt weak, but she forced herself to stay standing, watching the man warily.He hesitated for a moment, then his expression changed. His entire demeanour shifted, and suddenly he was smiling again, his voice smooth and relaxed, almost charming.“And to think I was ready to decorate the ground with your innards. Apologies.”Ada's heart was still racing, her pulse thrumming in her ears.“You tricked me and threatened me with a knife...”The man raised an eyebrow, his calm indifference only fuelling her frustration. “I’m out of wine and flowers, so I hope an introduction will suffice.”His smile turned smug, his posture relaxed as if the whole ordeal had been a game. “My name is Astarion. I was in Baldur’s Gate when those beasts snatched me.”Ada blinked, still trying to wrap her head around everything that had just happened. She opened her mouth, her voice catching in her throat before she finally managed, “I’m Ada.”Astarion didn’t seem to acknowledge her introduction, his gaze already sweeping the horizon as though assessing his next move. His eyes flicked back to her after a pause, and there was a hint of curiosity in his expression.“So, do you know anything about these worms?” he asked, his voice light, as though they were discussing the weather.Ada exchanged a glance with Shadowheart. “No. Not really. We’re trying to figure it out.”Shadowheart stepped forward, her gaze still hard. “We’ve been looking for answers. There’s something strange about these creatures, but we haven’t found anyone who can help.”Astarion looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged, slipping the dagger back into its sheath with a smooth, practised motion.“Well,” he said, smiling that charming smile again. “You know, I was ready to go this alone, but maybe sticking with the herd isn’t such a bad idea. And you seem like useful people to know.”Ada was still rattled, her hands shaking slightly at her sides, but she forced herself to focus. “So... does that mean you’re joining us?”Astarion tilted his head, considering her offer for a moment before nodding, his smile widening. “All right. I accept. Lead on.”Shadowheart gave a barely perceptible nod—practical, not trusting, but acknowledging that he might be useful.Ada took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. She still didn’t trust him—not after what he had just pulled—but something told her they might need him. He seemed like the kind of person who knew more than he let on.Astarion flicked an invisible speck of ash from his sleeve, still lounging like the whole ambush had been an afternoon diversion.“We’ll need to watch him,” Shadowheart muttered beside her. Her tone was flat, but Ada felt the pulse of tension behind it.“Agreed,” Ada said low-voiced.She didn’t look at Shadowheart—just at Astarion’s silhouette, outlined against the fading light. As they moved on, Ada kept her gaze low. Every step felt heavier now.***They continued onward, putting distance between themselves and the crash site, the remnants of the Nautiloid now little more than twisted shapes on the horizon.The air grew cooler as the sun sank lower, casting long shadows over the rough terrain. The group moved in uneasy silence, each lost in their own thoughts, while the occasional screech of distant creatures kept their nerves on edge.They walked for some time, the tension between them lingering just beneath the surface, before Shadowheart finally motioned for them to stop. She must have noticed something, because Ada could see her eyes narrow slightly in concentration.Ada followed her line of sight, hoping to catch on. The first thing Ada noticed was the eerie glow—a circle of deep purple shimmering on the surface of the rocky cliff about fifty meters ahead of them.Slowly, they stepped closer. Shadowheart stood closest to the glowing circle, her brow furrowed as she studied the anomaly. Astarion lingered behind them, half-listening, his arms crossed as if the whole thing was beneath his attention.“A malfunctioning portal,” Shadowheart muttered, more to herself than to anyone else. “It looks unstable.”Ada, still getting used to the strangeness of her new surroundings, had no idea what a portal was supposed to look like when it was working properly, much less when it was malfunctioning. But there was something about this one that felt... familiar.It resonated with her in a way she couldn’t quite explain, a vibration in her bones that matched her heartbeat. Without thinking, she took a step closer, brow creased in confusion.“A portal? Like... to move from one place to another?”Shadowheart glanced at her, unimpressed. “Yes, that’s what a portal does. Don’t act like you have never seen one.”Ada frowned. They definitely didn’t have glowing circles in the middle of rocks back in her world. Portals were either for online shopping or to bend physics in video games—like in that one game with the gun that shot holes through walls.But actual portals, like beaming or teleportation, were pure fantasy. Sci-fi stuff, not reality. Right? Ada couldn’t help but feel a bit ridiculous even considering it, before she remembered she had only recently been transformed into a horned creature and was travelling with two elves. But instead of saying anything like that, she just shrugged.“Not like this.”As the glow pulsed, it sent shivers down her spine. There was a strange hum in the air, almost like the portal itself was alive, vibrating with some unknown power. She felt it pulling at her, though it wasn’t clear if it wanted to help or harm.Suddenly, from the inky darkness at the centre of the portal, a hand shot out. The voice that followed was strained, panicked.“A hand? Anyone...?”Ada startled, her heart racing at the sight of the outstretched hand. Without thinking, she stepped even closer to the portal.It felt dangerous, like stepping too close to a live wire, but she couldn’t pull away. Something inside her whispered that she needed to help—she could help.She could feel the chaos in the air, the crackling energy surrounding the portal. Taking a deep breath, Ada tried to steady herself, focusing on the sensation that had been vibrating through her bones.She wasn’t sure why, but she closed her eyes and imagined the energy inside her calming, settling. To her surprise, the portal responded. The flickering glow steadied, the chaotic sparks fading into a more rhythmic pulse, as if responding to her touch.The voice from the portal sounded relieved. “Thank you! Whatever you're doing is working wonders. Now, a quick little pull should do the trick...”Ada’s eyes snapped open, her hands moving before her mind could catch up. She grabbed the hand firmly by the wrist, feeling its cold fingers curl around hers.With a grunt of effort, she planted her feet and pulled, using the weight of her body to drag whatever was inside the portal free.She stumbled back, nearly losing her footing as a man tumbled out of the glowing circle and collapsed onto the ground in front of her.The portal fizzled, the light dimming until it disappeared altogether. Ada blinked down at the stranger sprawled on the ground, her breath heavy with exertion. He lay there for a moment, dazed, before slowly pushing himself up onto his elbows.He looked ordinary, at first glance. A human man with mousy brown hair pulled into a simple half-up bun. It was practical, yet there was an understated elegance to it—neat and intentional, much like the short, well-kept beard that framed his sharp jawline.His build didn’t speak of brute strength, but of someone shaped by finer pursuits—measured, composed, precise. There was grace to him, but not ease; it felt practised, like every movement had been rehearsed to appear effortless. He moved like someone used to being watched, and intent on leaving the right impression.His style was simple but refined—clothes that spoke of quality without being ostentatious. He wore a long, deep purple robe, the fabric rich but not overly luxurious, belted at the waist with a wide leather strap that looked both sturdy and practical. The robe had a subtle pattern woven into the fabric, giving it texture and depth.The overall effect was somewhere between a scholar and a traveller — someone accustomed to both study and the road. On his left ear, a silver earring in the shape of an eight-pointed star caught the light as he moved.Slung across his back was an elaborate staff, shimmering faintly with an energy Ada couldn’t quite place.A pale, intricate tattoo curled up from below his collarbones, the fine tendrils reaching beneath his left eye, adding a touch of mystery to his otherwise approachable appearance.The man had gotten up and was brushing dust off his robes. Still bent forward a little, he looked up at Ada and smiled—a warm, slightly sheepish smile that was disarming despite his unceremonious arrival.“Hello,” he said, his voice smooth but touched with a hint of awkwardness. “I’m Gale of Waterdeep. Apologies—I’m usually better at this.”Ada blinked, unsure how to respond. Everything about him—his calm demeanour, his words—felt so strange in the context of what had just happened. But his voice was warm, as was the smile on his face, and she found his slight nervousness oddly charming.“Are... are you alright?” she asked, still trying to make sense of the situation.Gale straightened up, smiling at her. “A bit shocked, but friend, it’s a relief and a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He paused, his dark eyes studying her face for a moment. “And your name is?”“Ada,” she said, but Gale tilted his head, his smile not faltering but his eyebrows raising just a touch, as if waiting for something more.Ada hesitated. Was he expecting a last name? She hadn’t thought about how much of herself she should reveal. She still had no idea how to explain that she wasn’t really from this world—or that she hadn’t been a tiefling for more than a day.Panic flickered in her chest. She did not want to let on that she didn’t belong here. Not yet. But she had no idea what last names were common here.She couldn’t exactly claim to be ‘Ada of Frankfurt’—that didn’t sound nearly as impressive as ‘Gale of Waterdeep.’And the silence had stretched on for a couple of seconds already and it was getting awkward. So she just went with the truth.“Adelaide Eschbach,” she blurted. “But most people call me Ada.”Gale, graciously, didn’t seem to notice her tension. He inclined his head in a small, courteous bow. “It’s a pleasure.”He studied her for a moment longer, then his gaze flicked past her, to the others who were watching the interaction in silence.“Say, but I know you, don’t I? In a manner of speaking? You were on the Nautiloid as well.”Ada flinched at the word. She still wasn’t used to thinking about what had happened on the ship—those horrific memories of tentacled creatures and invasive thoughts that seemed to burrow into her mind.“The... the ship, you mean?” She tried to keep her voice steady. “Yes. Yes, I was.”Gale’s expression shifted, a strange excitement lighting up his eyes. “Then I can only assume you too were on the receiving end of a rather unwelcome incision in the ocular region?”His eloquence was striking, a contrast to everyone else she’d met so far. Ada couldn’t help but wonder how someone who had just tumbled out of a portal could be so... upbeat.It was almost like listening to a professor giving a lecture, rather than a man sharing life-threatening news. As bizarre as it was, it made her feel a little less lost.Ada found herself just nodding. Gale’s gaze sharpened.“The insertee we speak of—this parasite—are you aware that after a period of excruciating gestation, it will turn us into mindflayers? A process known as ceremorphosis. And let me assure you, it is to be avoided.”Ada’s mind scrambled to catch up. Mindflayers. Mind. Flayer. The word itself sounded like a bad joke. Flaying a mind? Was that supposed to make sense?Her thoughts snapped back to the squid-faced monsters on the ship, and a chill ran down her spine. Those things were mindflayers? And they were going to... turn into them?Before Ada could react to his words, Astarion’s laughter broke the tension. It was sharp, almost hysterical—a sound that didn’t belong in the quiet, open space. Ada couldn’t tell whether he was amused or horrified, and that uncertainty made her uneasy.“Mindflayers? We will turn into—” His tone shifted suddenly, darkening. “Of course it will turn us into monsters... but it hasn’t happened yet.”His smile was unnerving as it twisted across his pale face. “So we might still be able to do something.”Gale seemed to share that sentiment, nodding thoughtfully. “You don’t happen to be a cleric by any chance, do you? A doctor, surgeon, uncannily adroit with a knitting needle?”Ada couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the absurdity of the question. A cleric? Her? The word made her think of priests, rituals, and maybe someone giving her the last rites. Was he implying they were already as good as dead?The thought sent a cold shiver down her spine, but when Gale mimicked a stitch with his hand—neat, precise, like he was threading an imaginary needle—she couldn’t help it. A startled laugh escaped her.Shadowheart’s voice cut through the moment, dry and humourless. “You seem to know enough about our condition to realize it’s beyond most healers’ ability.”Gale didn’t miss a beat. “No doubt. But I find myself hoping to be in the presence of the few exceptions. You don’t seem to be able to help us, but as we’ve established, few enough can. It’s not exactly a common affliction. We’re most certainly going to need a healer, and soon.”For a moment, Gale's face shifted into what Ada could only describe as a comical version of deep thought. His eyebrows scrunched together, his lips pursed in a way that made her wonder if he was actually trying to think or simply making fun of the situation. Then, with renewed energy, he snapped his fingers.“How about we lend each other a helping hand once more and look for a healer together? A parasite shared is a parasite halved, or something to that effect.”Ada raised an eyebrow at his odd turn of phrase, but despite herself, she couldn’t help but smile. This man was ridiculous—but in a charming way.“Alright,” she said, and his face lit up in a broad grin.“Perfect!” Gale clapped his hands together, as if they’d just made a grand deal.“Oh, but before you think you’re about to embark on a journey with the most ill-mannered man, I must thank you. Pulling me from that stone was an act of foresighted kindness, I assure you. I have a feeling ample opportunities will present themselves for me to return the favour.”Astarion scoffed from behind her. “Alright, wizard. You can join us. But only if you prove more... adept at magic going forward. I don’t want to be struck by lightning because of one of your spells backfires.”One word caught Ada’s attention.“Wizard?” she repeated, her eyes flicking to the staff on his back and the faint hum of magic around him.A sense of wonder stirred in her chest—like he might conjure fire with a word or summon storms with a wave of his hand. Wizards were supposed to be grand, powerful figures. Gale seemed more tangible, more approachable than that.Gale raised an eyebrow, looking mildly offended, as if it should have been obvious.“Yes, indeed. I have spent my life studying the arcane arts.” For a moment, his expression softened as he considered her. “You attuned to the portal earlier. But you are not... versed in magic, are you?”Ada hesitated. She didn’t even know what she had done back there. She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just... felt it.”Gale seemed to mull that over, a thoughtful hum escaping him. But after a moment, he let the topic drop, gesturing ahead.“Well, shall we? I think I saw some ruins east of here as I was tumbling from the sky. Perhaps we can find something of use there.”The group agreed, and they set off, moving through the strange, otherworldly landscape. Gale’s eyes lingered on her a moment longer than necessary, thoughtful and calculating, and it left her feeling like she’d missed something important.***The group moved cautiously through the underbrush, the air thick with the scent of earth and pine. Ada carefully pushed aside a branch, trying not to get it caught on her horns, when she noticed movement ahead.Shadowheart raised a hand, signalling them to stop. Through the gaps in the trees, Ada saw it: a crude wooden cage suspended from a thick branch, about three meters above the ground.The structure was secured with rough ropes, swaying slightly in the breeze. Inside, a familiar figure glared down at the ground below, her posture rigid and seething. Lae’zel.Two tieflings stood near the base of the cage, arguing in low voices. Ada caught fragments about what to do with the “green-skinned monster”. She glanced at the others, but when Shadowheart looked about to intervene, Ada raised a hand to stop her.Taking a breath to steady herself, she stepped forward, making sure to keep her movements calm and confident.“Hey,” she called out to the tieflings.They both turned, eyes narrowing with suspicion. Ada forced a casual smile.“You might want to let us take over. That creature is dangerous—vicious. We’ve been hunting her for a while now, and trust me, you don’t want her on your hands.”One of the tieflings scoffed, crossing his arms.“Hunting her? You don’t look like monster hunters to me. Why should we believe you?”Ada held her ground, keeping her voice steady.“She’s more dangerous than she looks. She’s vicious, ruthless. If she gets loose, she’ll cut you down without a second thought. We’ve seen what she can do, and we’re better equipped to deal with her. You’ve done enough already—let us take it from here.”The other tiefling hesitated, glancing back at the cage.“Fine. If you’re so keen to handle her, be our guest. Just don’t come crying if she guts you.”Ada nodded, offering a tight smile. “We’ll manage.”The tieflings exchanged uneasy glances before heading down the path, clearly relieved to leave the problem behind.Once they were out of sight, Ada approached the cage, craning her neck to look up at Lae’zel. The githyanki warrior’s face was set in a mask of disdain, though the fire in her eyes was unquenched.“Get me out,” Lae’zel demanded, voice low and commanding, as if it were her right to issue orders.Ada couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the tone—was that really how you spoke to the people who had just saved you? The arrogance was almost impressive. Still, she knew better than to push Lae’zel’s pride. Asking the warrior to say “please” might get her impaled on the spot.Gale stepped forward, studying the rope keeping the cage suspended. “Allow me.”He stretched out his hand, muttering an incantation, and flames shot from his fingertips. The rope snapped, and the cage came crashing to the ground with a bone-rattling thud, splintering in places.Lae’zel grunted, bracing herself against the wooden bars as the cage hit the ground. A few sharp kicks later, she forced open a gap wide enough to squeeze through.Once free, she straightened, brushing the dust from her armor with a flick of her clawed hand. The gith glared at them, her gaze landing on Ada first.“The tadpole hasn't yet scrambled all your senses. Auspicious.”Ada opened her mouth to retort, but Lae’zel continued without pause.“But the longer we wait, the more it consumes.”Her expression remained fierce, unyielding, as though she hadn’t just been captured and strung up like a prize. Ada couldn’t help but feel a flicker of annoyance. Lae’zel wasn’t exactly in a position to be issuing orders, and yet her voice still carried that commanding edge.“My people possess the cure for this infection. I must find a crèche; you will join me,” Lae’zel declared.Shadowheart gave an exasperated huff. “Careful - she obviously sees your kindness as weakness. Don't let her take advantage.”Turning back to Lae’zel, Ada raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly is a crèche...?”Lae’zel looked down at her as though the question itself was insulting. “It is many things. A hatchery, a training grounds, a shelter,” she explained, voice stiff with impatience. “Githyanki protocol is clear: when infected with a ghaik tadpole, we must report to a ghustil for purification.”Ada absorbed the information, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar terms. Still, if this crèche was their best shot at dealing with the parasite, she wasn’t about to argue.“All right, we journey together. Let's find this crèche.”A flash of surprise crossed Lae’zel’s face, gone almost as quickly as it appeared.“You have made an ally from Crèche K'liir - few know such fortune. Call me Lae’zel.”Shadowheart moved closer to Ada, lowering her voice to a whisper.“I'll trust your judgment - but I won't trust her. Not until I've gotten the measure of her.”Lae’zel’s sharp gaze darted to Shadowheart, her lips curling into a sneer. “You've a sharp tongue, elf. Would that your mind proved its equal.”Shadowheart’s jaw tightened. “Half-elf. I suppose the finer details are lost on a creature like you.”Ada blinked, the realization settling in belatedly. Half-elf. She hadn’t considered that before. Her gaze flicked from Astarion to Shadowheart, noticing the subtle differences—Astarion’s finer features, his paler complexion, and ears that tapered to sharper points. Maybe that explained it. Curious, she glanced at Shadowheart again, trying to see what set her apart.Lae’zel ignored the jab, already shifting her focus. “Come. The horned ones mentioned a camp. One there - a Zoru - has seen githyanki.”She glanced at the group, clearly expecting obedience.“A crèche must be near. We will ask this Zoru where he has seen my kin.”Astarion gave an exaggerated sigh, crossing his arms. “I am enjoying the latest addition to our little group - Lae’zel is delightful.”His lips curled into a wicked grin. “In a very ‘look at me twice and I'll dismember you’ kind of way, of course.”Ada couldn’t help but huff a quiet laugh, though the tension still knotted in her stomach. Lae’zel’s abrasive confidence grated on her nerves, but if she truly knew how to cure them of the parasite, they had little choice.As the group moved on, Ada glanced back at Lae’zel, still half-expecting the gith to issue more orders despite being newly freed. One thing was certain: travelling with Lae’zel was going to be... interesting.***The ruins rose from the overgrown brush like a shattered crown—cracked stone, leaning archways, and long-forgotten carvings softened by time. They perched precariously at the edge of a cliff, as if daring nature to claim them in one final push.The group approached slowly, shadows growing long around them. The place felt long abandoned… but not empty. Voices echoed ahead.Ada’s stomach tightened. Her pulse picked up before she even registered the words. Shadowheart, always alert, stiffened beside her.“We’ve been noticed,” she murmured.Everyone paused—waiting. Watching. Were they expecting her to step forward? Ada felt the weight of their silence behind her, like eyes pressing between her shoulder blades.Figures stepped into view. A handful of rough-looking men loitered in the ruins—armed, twitchy. Their gear was mismatched, their posture sloppy. Scavengers. Definitely not professionals. Still dangerous, though. Especially when cornered.“You!” one of them barked—a broad human, towering and sharp-voiced. “Not another step, hear me?” He turned and shouted toward the inner courtyard. “Boss! Got company up here!”The man who appeared was small—maybe waist-height—with pointed ears, a sturdy build, and the kind of overcompensating posture that screamed “important.” If this were a fantasy movie, she’d peg him for a hobbit. Or maybe a halfling? Was that a thing here?“What’s this then?” the short man demanded. “Trying to creep around us and loot the crypt? Not happening.” He spat toward a mossy stone. “Or is it the ship you’re after? Don’t matter either way—it’s ours now. All of it.”Ada felt the others tense behind her. The silence stretched, awkward and expectant. Her tongue was heavy in her mouth. Say something.She couldn’t look back at them—not at Shadowheart’s steel-edged focus, not at Gale’s measured curiosity, and definitely not at Astarion’s smirk.She stepped forward, forcing her voice to stay level.“That ship is full of monsters. I wouldn’t go near it. And it’s still burning.”Her words hung in the air, and for a second, she thought maybe her voice had sounded too small. Too unsure. But then—“Ah, but what is a little fire to the promise of unimaginable riches?” Astarion swept past her, voice dipped in silk and sarcasm.Ada exhaled, grateful for the interruption. He’d read the situation the same way she had—these men weren’t subtle. And they weren’t brave. He gestured dramatically toward the wreck.“Think of the treasure buried beneath the ash. The glory waiting to be claimed.” Shadowheart’s groan was audible. “Must you advertise every potential gold stash to every sword-for-hire in earshot? Let’s just invite them to camp, shall we?”The halfling blinked, clearly recalibrating.“Well, uh… in that case…” He turned to his men. “C’mon, you lot. No point gettin’ killed over some rotting ruins. Let’s go to the ship and get stupid rich.”He cast Ada a final, squinty-eyed glance. “Enjoy your scraps.”As they vanished into the trees, Ada let out a slow breath. Her heart was still hammering. Her hands felt cold. She kept them at her sides, clenched loosely into fists.That had been fine. She’d done fine. No one had called her out or corrected her. So why did she feel like she’d barely passed a test she didn’t study for?Shadowheart shook her head. “Idiots. Let’s move quickly.”The ruins stretched out before them—half-swallowed by vines and fractured stone. Crumbling archways and gaping holes in the ceiling revealed a pale wash of late light.But there were signs of recent use: a half-burned log, frayed ropes, empty bottles. Someone had slept here. Hidden here. Fled here.“Be careful,” Shadowheart said, already stepping into the shadows. “Loot what you can, but watch for traps.” The group began to fan out.Ada hesitated, lingering at the edge of the ruins. Not for caution’s sake—but because she still felt the burn of all those eyes. Her companions hadn’t said a word, hadn’t questioned her words to the looters… but that only made it worse.Were they surprised she’d spoken up at all? Did they expect her to lead, or were they just waiting for her to mess up? Her stomach gnawed at itself.She touched the stone wall beside her—cool and rough beneath her fingertips—just to anchor herself. Then, forcing her legs to move, she stepped into the ruins.***The interior of the ruins opened up like the husk of some forgotten dream.It was quiet, almost reverent, the silence broken only by the occasional shuffle of footsteps or the distant caw of a crow.The place was crumbling—absolutely, undeniably crumbling—but it still had a strange, haunting beauty. Sunlight filtered through the shattered ceiling in fractured beams, catching on patches of dust and moss as if the ruins themselves still shimmered with the memory of magic.Ada found herself staring longer than she should have at a half-collapsed statue, its face weathered down to little more than suggestion. The way vines curled around its torso almost looked deliberate—like it had been draped in green silk, rather than strangled by time.She tried to walk with purpose, mimicking Shadowheart’s poise, trying to look like looting ancient crypts was something she’d done a dozen times before. She hovered a few paces behind the cleric, glancing into side chambers, trailing her fingertips across the dusty remains of old altars, scattered bones, and broken furniture. She wasn’t even sure what she was looking for.And then, out of nowhere, Shadowheart spoke.“Lae’zel has a dangerous look in her eyes,” she said quietly, almost casually—as if remarking on the weather. “Let’s just hope she reserves those impulses for our common enemies.”Ada startled slightly, not at the words but at the fact that Shadowheart had addressed her at all. Her voice had a measured quality to it, like she was deliberately choosing her tone. Not friendly, exactly.Controlled.Ada hesitated, then risked asking the question that had been lingering at the back of her mind since the crash.“What is it with you and the gith? I mean… I get that she’s intense, but you really don’t trust her, do you?”Shadowheart’s gaze didn’t shift from the dark corridor ahead, but her voice took on a deliberate calm. “The githyanki are cruel and dangerous. That’s not bias—it’s experience. You shouldn’t put your faith in someone like that. Ignorance isn’t always bliss, Ada.”Ada didn’t answer right away. She’d expected some vague warning, maybe a political grudge, not… that. The weight of it sat strangely in her chest.Then Shadowheart added, almost as an afterthought, “She’s not of this world. I’d be surprised if our interests remained aligned.”Ada blinked. The words hit harder than she expected.
  Not of this world.
And what exactly did that make her. She swallowed, trying to shake the rising discomfort.“You mean… because she’s githyanki?”Shadowheart finally looked at her. “I mean she’s alien. Her loyalties lie elsewhere. Don’t be fooled by temporary alliances.”There was a pause—just long enough to become awkward. And Ada couldn’t help it. The words looped in her head, louder with each repetition. Not of this world. That could’ve been thrown at her just as easily. Shadowheart didn’t know it—but if she did?The pit in Ada’s stomach grew heavier. She changed the subject.Trying to keep her tone light, Ada spoke again. “That odd little artefact you keep… what’s the story with it?”She’d caught a glimpse of it once, earlier in the day—tucked quickly away when Shadowheart thought no one was looking. Just enough for her curiosity to start gnawing at the edges of her restraint.Shadowheart’s response was immediate and cold. “There’s no story. None that you’re entitled to hear, anyway. Just forget you ever saw it.”Ada recoiled slightly, heat rising in her chest. “Right. Sorry. I just thought—” She cut herself off.What had she thought? That Shadowheart would confide in her? That they could bond over their shared trauma and corpse-looting?
  Ok, well, she hates me. 
Ada stared at the floor, silently chastising herself. These people weren’t friends. They were barely companions. They were survivors. And if she wasn’t useful, if she wasn’t careful, she’d be left behind like dead weight.“I didn’t mean to pry,” she murmured. “If you’re not comfortable, I won’t press you.”Shadowheart’s gaze lingered a moment longer, then she gave a curt nod. “Thank you. I’m sure we’ll get along perfectly well.”Ada offered a weak smile, but she was already turning away. Her heart thudded with the kind of ache she hated—tight, hot, and familiar. She made a mental note:
  Stay out of Shadowheart’s way. Be quiet. Be helpful. Don’t be a burden.
She wandered deeper into the ruins. Not looking for loot anymore. Not really looking for anything. The air was thick with old silence. Her feet moved for her, her hands brushed over stone, over carvings—but her thoughts were somewhere else.Gale’s calm certainty, Shadowheart’s cold judgment, Lae’zel’s militant pride. They all belonged here. They had rules, roles, orders. She had… instincts. Hunches. And a headache from thinking too hard.She saw Gale standing before an old pedestal, his sleeves pushed back, one hand resting lightly against the worn edge of the stone as he studied whatever was inscribed there.There was something reassuring about how still he was—how focused. The others moved like they were ready to fight or flee at a moment’s notice. Gale moved like he expected to learn something.He looked so at ease here, like some storybook sage examining forgotten knowledge in a ruined temple. The robe helped. So did the posture.She hovered a few feet away, not ready to speak. Not sure if she should. But the silence stretched, and that old, desperate hope for connection got the better of her.“So… what do you make of Lae’zel?”Gale turned to her with a faint, knowing smile. “A githyanki joining our company. Not a collaboration I’d have anticipated. But a welcome one nonetheless.”Ada studied him, surprised by the lack of hesitation in his tone. After all the tension Lae’zel brought with her, his ease felt refreshing. Or maybe naive? Or maybe it was just nice to not hear more disdain.“Do you think she can be trusted?” she asked, careful to keep her voice neutral.Gale closed the book, dusting it lightly with his fingers. “Trust is such a precarious thing, isn’t it? But I believe competence often buys more time than charm. And Lae’zel—however blunt—is not incompetent.”Ada nodded slowly. That, at least, was true. She didn’t know yet whether that made Lae’zel more or less terrifying.She hesitated, then added, “Shadowheart said she’s not… of this world. That her loyalties lie elsewhere.” Her voice dropped a little, more cautious now. “What exactly are the githyanki? I mean… I’ve never heard of them before all this.”Gale’s expression shifted—interest piqued, maybe even mildly surprised. “Ah. The githyanki. Yes, they are… fascinating. And troubling, depending on how close one stands to their blades.” He spoke like a teacher, but a kind one. “They are not native to the Material Plane, no. They hail from the Astral Sea—an endless, drifting expanse of thought and void. Time barely touches them there.”“Astral Sea,” Ada repeated, the words strange and hollow in her mouth. She had no idea what that even meant. But she assumed that Material Plane meant whatever reality they were in right now? She would have to figure that out later.“They’re a warrior race,” Gale continued, “born from slavery, shaped by centuries of war with the mind flayers. Ruthless, disciplined, indoctrinated from birth. Their culture is—how shall I put it?—rigid. Violently so. You’re either useful to their queen, or you’re not.”Ada folded her arms, letting that sit for a moment. “So… alien. But not evil.”Gale tilted his head. “Alien, certainly. But that’s not the same as monstrous. To her, though? We’re the aliens. Istiks, as she would say. And she doesn’t strike me as someone who values what she sees as lesser.”A faint smile tugged at the corner of Ada’s mouth. “Yeah. She doesn’t exactly do nuance.”Gale chuckled softly. “No, she does not. But she believes in her mission. And that makes her predictable—which, in dangerous company, is sometimes preferable to charm.”Ada looked down at the floor, thinking again of Shadowheart’s cold warning.
  She’s not of this world.
The words had burrowed under her skin. But if Lae’zel was alien… then what was Ada? She wasn’t just pretending she knew what she was doing. She was pretending she belonged here with them at all.“Thanks,” she said, not entirely sure what she was thanking him for.But Gale simply nodded, like he understood anyway.She lingered a moment, then asked, “Tell me a bit more about yourself?”Gale turned toward her, visibly pleased by the question.“Well,” he said with an easy cadence, “I hail from Waterdeep, the City of Splendours. I’m a wizard of considerable acclaim and a scholar of exceptional accomplishment.”Ada blinked. That was... a lot. The way he said it—like it was obvious, like everyone should already know—made something twist in her chest. It wasn’t just the arrogance; it was how effortless it seemed. How secure he was in his place in the world.He had titles. Credentials. Acclaim. And she had—what? A gut feeling and a strange connection to magic she didn’t understand? She suddenly felt like a child pretending to know what spell books were for while standing next to someone who probably wrote them.Gale didn’t seem to notice. Or if he did, he didn’t let it interrupt the rhythm of his self-introduction.“I have a cat, a library, and a weakness for a good glass of wine,” he went on. “And if the mood takes me, I’m known to try my hand at poetry.”“The library and wine sound lovely,” Ada said with a faint smile.It was the first time all day she didn’t feel completely out of place just standing next to someone. She let her fingers drift along the spines of some half-buried books nearby.“Honestly, I’d take both right now. I love to read—maybe one of these dusty tomes can distract me from the whole dying-via-brain-worm thing.”She pulled a book from the shelf, brushing centuries of dust off the cracked cover. The gold lettering was still faintly legible.“Death and Divinity: A Godly Guide,” she read aloud. “Sounds dramatic.”She flipped it open, scanning the opening lines. Her brow furrowed as she skimmed the text—lists of gods and domains, tangled pantheons, ritual instructions, and hierarchies of the dead. It read like an over-complicated blend of theology and folklore. And she’d read her fair share of those.Obscure pantheons, lost cults, half-mythic belief systems that had passed into dust along with the languages they were written in.“Bhaal, Myrkul, Bane…” she murmured, half to herself. “Were they all gods of death? Or did they overlap by accident? This reads like some kind of ancient mythology... maybe a layered theogeny?”She glanced at Gale.“Are they from different cultures, or…?”He turned toward her, one brow gently arched. “Ancient mythology?” he repeated, lightly amused. “No, not quite. The gods in that book are very much alive.”Ada blinked, confused. “You mean… symbolically?”“No.” Gale’s tone shifted—less smug now, more precise. “I mean alive. Or unalive, depending on which you’re referring to.”He stepped closer, nodding toward the page she held open.“Bhaal, Myrkul, and Bane—once mortals, now ascended. They supplanted Jergal, the previous Lord of the Dead. The Dead Three, as they’re known. They’re not just part of the world’s history. They’re part of its present. And they’re… inconveniently real.”Ada stared at him, unsure whether to laugh or argue. The weight of his words didn’t quite fit into her brain.“They’re still worshipped?” she asked, voice low. “Now? As in—active gods?”Gale inclined his head. “Real enough to flay you alive or raise your corpse, depending on whose attention you draw.”Silence bloomed between them. Ada’s fingers curled tighter around the book’s spine. She looked back down at the page, but it suddenly felt too heavy, too sharp, too close to be fiction. Her mouth was dry.“So either I’ve lost my mind,” she murmured, “or I’ve landed in a place where mythology is alive and murderous.”Gale didn’t laugh. He didn’t offer comfort, either. He just looked at her—his expression no longer quite so smug. The edges had softened, but something sharper sat beneath: a glint of calculation behind the scholar’s calm.He was trying to make sense of her. Measure her. Solve her. But whatever he was looking for, Ada got the sense he wasn’t finding it.She closed the book slowly, more for something to do with her hands than any real conclusion. The silence pressed in. This couldn’t be real. None of it.Her brain kept scrambling for another explanation—some rational angle, some historical framing she could understand. But every word Gale had said settled into her bones like truth, and it made her want to run.No. No, this was just a story. A world like this couldn’t be real. She looked away, eyes landing on the fractured stone beneath her boots. Just stone. Just dust. Just breath in, breath out.“I should—” she started, but the words didn’t go anywhere.Gale didn’t stop her. He simply turned back to the pedestal, quiet now. Respectful, even. But his eyes lingered on her a moment longer, thoughtful and faintly unsettled—like he’d just come across a spell that shouldn’t exist.Ada stepped away, the book still clutched in her hand. Her legs felt steady, but her thoughts spun in a slow, widening spiral. It couldn’t be real. It couldn’t. But, Jesus Christ — some part of her had already started to believe.***By the time the group reconvened at the centre of the ruins, the sun had dipped fully below the horizon. The fading twilight cast long shadows through the shattered archways, and the ruins—ancient and empty—seemed to hold their breath.They pooled what they'd found: a few packs, bedrolls, stale rations, and a handful of books Gale had claimed from the shelves. It wasn’t much, but it would keep them alive. For a while.They moved a short way from the crypt to make camp in a sheltered nook of the ruins, where half a wall and a collapsed arch offered some protection from the wind.The sky was clear above, dark and heavy with stars Ada didn’t recognize.As the others settled down—some with more grumbling than others—Ada took a moment to stare up at the unfamiliar constellations.Her thoughts were loud. Louder than the rustling bedrolls, louder than the crackling of the modest fire Astarion had reluctantly helped build. Every part of this world still felt unreal: the gods that were real, the magic that answered her without asking, the creature in her head that kill her at any second.What made it worse was how normal it all looked. There was a fire, bedrolls, their rations piled in a pack. It had the eerie coziness of a sleepover—if sleepovers came with blades under pillows and parasites behind your eyes.Despite the domestic trappings, the air in camp was far from warm.Astarion sat apart, half in shadow, his face unreadable. Shadowheart knelt at the edge of the firelight, angled so she could observe the whole camp without being in the centre of it. And Gale stood by the cauldron, slowly stirring something that was starting to smell like dinner.Ada turned as heavy footsteps approached.Lae’zel.The gith walked with her usual stiff-backed intensity, her jaw tight. She stopped in front of Ada and didn’t bother with pleasantries. She was only a few inches taller than Ada—two, maybe three at most—but it didn’t matter. She felt like a tower of rage and discipline, her death-glare sharp enough to slice through steel.Ada blinked, already bracing herself, heart stuttering against her ribs. Every instinct screamed to look down, to shrink, to not provoke.“A monster forms inside us, and you think to be idle?”Ada blinked, already bracing herself. Lae’zel’s eyes narrowed.“I knew your kind to be fragile. But I didn’t foresee the severity.”“We need to pace ourselves,” Ada replied calmly, trying not to flinch under the intensity of the warrior’s stare. “Don’t you know an exhausted warrior is an ineffective one?”The gith’s lip curled. “A thickheaded notion in a complex circumstance.” She stepped closer, her voice low and cutting. “Do you suppose the parasites inside us dare to rest? That the gith do not still pursue us with each peal of the bell?”Ada said nothing. The fire popped beside them. Her body tensed, ready for the conversation to end—braced for another insult or veiled threat. But instead, something else pushed to the surface.Curiosity.Maybe it was the quiet after the storm of Shadowheart’s hostility and Gale’s lecture. Maybe it was how little she truly knew about this woman towering over her. About where she came from. About how her mind worked.Lae’zel had called the gith “pursuers.” But weren’t they her people?“Do the gith really chase their own?” Ada asked before she could second-guess herself. Her voice wasn’t challenging—just genuinely curious. “Or only the ones who get… infected?”Lae’zel blinked, caught off guard. Just for a breath. Then her expression hardened again—but something in her posture shifted. Less coiled, more grounded.“We do not ‘chase.’ We correct,” she said. “Those who bear the parasite are a danger to the people. We are hunted only so long as we fail to report for purification. That is protocol.”Ada nodded slowly. “And the crèche… that’s where you’d report?”Lae’zel inclined her head. “Yes. There, the process begins. The ghaik’s spawn is removed. If we survive, we return to service.” They stood in silence for a moment. The fire crackled softly. A wind stirred through the camp, lifting the ends of Lae’zel’s braid.Ada could still feel the echo of what the gith had said. If we survive. The words weren’t mournful. They weren’t even afraid. They were factual. Accepted.She found herself watching Lae’zel’s face. The angles and markings that had been so alien at first were now simply… hers. Part of the warrior’s strange symmetry. Ada didn’t understand her. But she was beginning to want to.Lae’zel glanced skyward then, her gaze tracking something beyond the firelight. “Would that I were doing battle up there, among the Tears.”Ada frowned lightly. “The… tears?”Lae’zel didn’t look at her. Just nodded upward.“Look above. Watch the moon cross the sky. The Tears follow behind it. Rocky bodies tumbling through the sea of night.”Ada followed her gaze. She’d noticed them before—small glimmers trailing the moon like a constellation dragged loose. She hadn’t known they had a name.“One of them is my crèche,” Lae’zel said. Her voice had taken on a different tone now—still stern, but laced with something harder to name. Not quite longing. Not quite pride.“Githyanki are hatched at crèches all throughout Realmspace. K’liir is one of many. It was there I first saw a kith’rak mount a red dragon.”Ada looked at her, not daring to interrupt.“It was there,” Lae’zel added, “that I slit my cousin’s throat at the varsh’s command.”The fire popped again. This time, it felt like punctuation. Ada’s breath caught. Lae’zel said it like a badge of honor, not a confession. She expected approval—not concern. Ada didn’t know what to say. So she said nothing. There was another question she still had to ask.“The Astral Sea,” she murmured. “That’s where your people usually live?”Lae’zel’s chin lifted , her eyes lingered on her for a beat too long—watchful, assessing. Not suspicious, exactly, but… unfamiliar. As if she were trying to decipher Ada’s intent like one might puzzle over a blade left unsheathed.The silence between them stretched, but it didn’t crackle with tension. Just consideration. Ada got the sense Lae’zel wasn’t used to being asked questions—at least not ones without challenge or command behind them.Still, she didn’t snap. Didn’t scoff or stalk off in disdain. Ada took that as a good sign.“Your curiosity is to be commended.”, Lae´zel said finally. “The Astral Plane is not for the weak of will. It does not age you, does not nourish you. It is the place of warriors, of purpose. Our Queen, Vlaakith, rules from there. Time bends to her will.”“But the young cannot be raised in a place that does not grow anything—not bodies, not bones. So we build crèches across the Realms—on moons, in ruins, among stars—anywhere time still moves. There, we are hatched. We are shaped. We are hardened. Then we return to the Astral Plane to serve. To conquer.”It was so alien, so far from anything Ada could imagine—and yet, she wanted to imagine it. To see it. Lae’zel seemed to catch the look in her eyes, and her expression sharpened, defensive again.“Do not mistake wonder for comprehension.”“I wasn’t,” Ada said carefully.Another pause. The fire snapped. Lae’zel’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, and then she turned.“Take your rest. I will stand watch. Should a single tentacle split your skull, I will not hesitate to end you.”And with that, she stalked away into the dark—up toward some vantage point only she could see. Ada watched her go, her heart still a little tight, but her mind fuller than it had been before.Not comforted. Not safe. But curious. And still standing.Across the fire, Gale was still bent over the battered cook pot, stirring the contents with a slow, thoughtful rhythm. Steam curled around his face in soft halos.He looked tired. Not worn down like the rest of them, but thoughtful in a way that made Ada hesitate before approaching. She could smell the stew now—herbs and charred meat, something vaguely earthy.Her stomach twisted in confused protest. He handed her a bowl without a word, and she offered a small, grateful smile in return.She returned to her corner and sat back down, slowly, picking up the spoon. She stared at it a moment. She bit her lip, feeling her stomach tighten. Ada had been a vegetarian for a while now and she could not bring herself to start eating meat now.On the other hand, she was about to be rude to the wizard who had made the effort to cook. Then Ada began carefully, quietly, shifting the chunks of meat to one side of the bowl, making a game of pretending to eat.
  Don’t draw attention. Please don’t draw attention. You’re being silly, this is apparently life or death and you want a veggie option? 
Ada scoffed at herself. Eventually, she lost her appetite.One by one, her companions drifted back to their own corners of silence, leaving Gale still by the fire, the flicker of flame catching in the lines of his face. He was staring into it, brows drawn, mouth shaped into something between a frown and a question.She watched him a moment longer, then stood. Her steps were quiet against the uneven stone.She was almost next to him when he murmured, “Go to Hell.”Ada blinked. “Sorry?”Gale’s eyes widened slightly as he realized she was there. “Forgive me,” he said with a sheepish half-smile. “I was merely illustrating a point.”He straightened slightly, his gaze drifting back toward the fire.“'Go to Hell.' An everyday expression. So trivial it’s almost meaningless. But we’ve seen Hell. It’s real. And it isn’t trivial.”“You seem… troubled,” Ada said, studying the set of his jaw. “More than earlier.”“Merely contemplating,” Gale replied. “Devils, dragons, mind flayers—until yesterday, they were abstractions. Illustrations in a textbook. Now we have tadpoles slithering through our heads like carnivorous foeti.”He turned toward her fully, eyes serious. “That’s not abstract.”Ada’s chest tightened so suddenly it felt like a hand had gripped her lungs. Carnivorous. Foeti. Not a transformation. Not a slow, magical mutation. But something feeding.Her stomach twisted. Her skin felt wrong. There was something inside her—not merely gestating or transforming, but gnawing.“What can I say but… you’re right?” Her voice sounded less brave than she intended. “We’re in deep sh@t.”They stood in silence for a moment, the fire between them snapping and hissing.Then Gale’s eyes flicked to her bowl. “You didn’t care for the stew?”Ada blinked, startled. She looked down—half the contents still untouched. Her chest tightened. She hadn’t meant to offend.“No—it’s not that. I mean, it smells good. You did a great job, really. I just—” she hesitated. Her voice dropped, guilt leaking in around the edges. “I’m vegetarian.”He looked at her, brows lifted slightly. “Ah. I see.”Oh gods. He was going to be annoyed. Tell her she was being ridiculous. That in times like these, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Her mind spiraled.
  I should have just eaten it. Why do I always mess this up? Why is this so hard to explain without sounding like a child?
But Gale’s voice broke through her panic, gentle and—surprisingly—understanding.“I must say, I have never met a vegetarian tiefling before. I wish you’d told me sooner. I’ll keep the meat separate next time. The others will be happy to take it. I found some lentils in one of the ruined packs earlier—perhaps we’ll try something simpler tomorrow.”Ada blinked. “Really?”“Of course.” His tone didn’t shift. “Truthfully, I was only concerned I’d poisoned you. Or worse, that the tadpole was deteriorating my culinary abilities.”Ada gave a startled laugh. He was actually funny sometimes. “Poisoned?”Gale nodded gravely. “There was a lot of thyme. I wasn’t sure if that was excessive.”She smiled, and the knot in her chest eased, just slightly. “It wasn’t the thyme.”He smiled at her mildly. Her eyes flicked down, and she noticed a tear in the hem of his robe—just at the left edge, barely longer than her pinky.“If you have thread and a needle, I can fix that for you. I sew.”Gale glanced down, surprised by her offer. “I don’t, unfortunately. Not at the moment. But if we find one—yes. I’d appreciate that.”Without really thinking, Ada reached out. Her fingers brushed the edge of the fabric, just lightly—right where the robe’s hem had come undone.“I can fix this,” she murmured.She didn’t say it to impress him. She said it because she wanted to help. She felt the need to give something back—anything. After the meal, after his kindness, after the swirl of uncertainty that seemed to hang between them. She wanted to be useful. Not strange, not confusing. Just helpful.Her thumb passed over the frayed edge. And something shifted.A shimmer—barely visible—flickered under her skin, warmth pooling through her fingertips. It wasn’t a spell she called. It was a feeling. A wish. A soft, steady need to repair. And the fabric responded.The tear closed like it had never been there, the thread tightening, the weave smoothing out with the faintest sigh of relief—like the cloth itself exhaled.Ada froze.So did Gale.“You—did you just—?” he began, voice quiet, eyes wide.“I didn’t mean to,” Ada said quickly. Her hand dropped to her side. “I wasn’t trying to cast anything, I just… it happened.”Gale didn’t speak. He wasn’t scowling, wasn’t pulling away. But there was something in his face—stillness, calculation. He looked at her the way someone might look at a book written in the wrong language.Not unkind. Just cautious. And that was worse.Ada stepped back, suddenly aware of the heat rising in her cheeks. She hadn’t meant for it to be a moment. Hadn’t meant for him to look at her like that.Her magic had answered something again—without warning, without control. It was supposed to be hers. Why didn’t it feel like that?The silence prickled. Then Gale cleared his throat.His voice, when it came, was gentler. “I’ll wake you bright and early. We’ll need to find a healer before the wee one gets hungry.”Ada gave a quick nod. Mumbled something that might have been agreement. And turned away.She curled into her bedroll, drawing the blanket up like it might shield her from his gaze—even if he wasn’t looking anymore. She kept her back to the fire, eyes open.The magic—it wasn’t just reacting. It was reaching. Meeting her halfway. Acting without her asking.Again. And Gale had seen it.She stared at the darkness above her, the sounds of the fire and distant wind scraping at the edges of her thoughts.I just wanted to help, she thought. Why does it always feel like I’ve done something wrong?'
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
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