The body was still fresh, swaying gently in the breeze that drifted through the open balcony doors. Though the frantic run home had only taken a few minutes, Tai’s skin, once such a warm bronze, had turned sickeningly pale. His wrists had been slashed open, blood trickling down in crimson streams, leaving dark stains on the wood beneath his hanging body. His neck had stretched out, pulled at an awkward angle, yet even at that angle, his lifeless eyes still bored holes through Werond, leaving no doubt that he had died in agony.

And it was all her fault.

Despite the heaving of her chest, Werond found that she couldn’t breathe; once that long, keening wail had escaped her lips, flying through the doors and piercing the midday sky, her body had simply given up. Without anything working, she had collapsed barely a step into their room, hands ripping at her hair, tears a waterfall down her face, mouth open as she choked on her grief and fought to stay conscious.

Footsteps.

The wood creaked behind her; a voice, familiar, honeyed, whispered into her ear.

“Such a shame…” She could feel the Drow’s smile. “Oh, he had such a long life ahead of him. Budding political career. The entirety of Waterdeep watching him, rooting for him…and now he’s gone.”

He tsked in her ear; she flinched as though it were thunder.

“I’ve heard how much he respected you, how much he enjoyed working under you. Considered it such an honor. Maybe not to others, but to him, there was no better place than by your side…and this is how you repay him?”

She wailed, curling forward and burying her facing into her hands.

He laughed.

“I heard he loved you too.” His voice was jovial, the way one would talk to an old friend at a tavern. “Heard a bit too much on that topic. Tell me, did he make you happy in the brief time you were together? He was happy, and yet…here we are.”

Another sob tore through her chest, her world torn asunder, bleeding what little life remained onto the floor of her bedroom.

“And to think, had you just listened to me, he’d have still been here to welcome you home. Wouldn’t that have been nice?”

A hand seized her hair and yanked her head up, a choked scream fleeing from her lungs as Tai’s body came back into view; he twisted her head until she stared at Jarlaxle, his smile wide, his red eyes crinkling as he crouched down beside her.

“I gave you a single warning, and you chose not to heed it. Do you see now that you are nothing to me? All those lofty ideas in your head have blinded you from the fact that I allow you to hold the position you have.” His smile dropped, and his hand jumped down to clutch at her cheeks. “You think yourself a Masked Lord? You think yourself powerful? You are nothing but a tool. And I need not to remind you that tools remain obedient to the hand that wields them, else they risk being replaced.”

His fingers dug in as he whipped her head back to stare at Tai. She had no will left to scream.

“You do not deserve whatever you think you had with him.” Jarlaxle spat. “You do not deserve anything save the fervent desire to follow my orders to the letter. That is your purpose, that is your debt. Anything that distracts from that will be removed. I have not finessed you to where you are today for you to believe yourself clever and try to work against me. You are not a Masked Lord. You have no power. You live because I allow it, and you will suffer when I demand it.”

He spat the words into her face before throwing her back; her head smashed against the wood, black filling her vision as she yelled in pain –

“And yet, here we are once more!”

The world snapped back to clarity.

There was a dampness to the room, an earthly smell that felt out of place. Her hands were above her head, chained to the stone wall, cold against her back. Her clothes were ripped and tattered against her body, and she had to stand on her toes so the manacles wouldn’t cut into her wrists.

Jarlaxle leaned against the wall next to her, large hat against his chest, head bowed as he sighed deeply. He stared down at the five bodies that lay on the stone floor in a neat line, their hands bound, burlap sacks over their heads. Despite the darkness of the room, she could still make out each of them, save for one.

Jarlaxle tsked, causing her to flinch.

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“Never did learn, do you?” He asked, glaring at her, eyes narrowed. “You’d think after Tai you wouldn’t get attached. A shame really, but not unsurprising, given how utterly predictable you are.”

He shoved off the wall and strolled over to one of the bodies; when he bent down and pulled the hood up, Serena remained in a peaceful sleep, oblivious to the danger that hovered over her.

Werond screamed, flailing against her chains, ignoring the pain as the manacles cut into her wrists. Jarlaxle grinned.

“You’re lucky I don’t like repeating myself.” He mused, staring down at Serena. “And well, she’s more use to me alive. But you…” He yanked the hood back into place and stood up. “You still deserve punishment, considering you’ve ruined everything. I’d be impressed if I wasn’t so furious.”

He walked over and halted before her, the shadows of the stone prison pulling at his face, giving him the appearance of something that had crawled out of the Nine Hells.

“I’ve thought about it for a while.” Jarlaxle continued. “Took a couple of days dragging you all out here, plenty of time to think. See, I promised myself last time that, should you prove to be a liability once more, I’d simply cut you loose. It would have been time consuming to make it look like a suicide again, and installing your replacement would take years, but I’d finally be rid of you. Should have done so sooner. Feels as though I’ve put up with you for far too long, sunk too much time into you.”

He chuckled and shook his head.

“But I kept thinking over it. And I realized that killing you would do nothing for me. There’d be a certain satisfaction, of course, but how long would that last? Ten minutes? Your corpse would still be warm by the time the feeling would pass. What good would that do me?”

Jarlaxle snapped his fingers and leaned in, eyes gleaming as though he had the answers to all of life’s questions.

“And then it hit me! See, this is the second time you failed someone. First with Tai, and now with her. How much trauma do you think comes from knowing that you’re the reason why the ones you love so dearly all end up dead…or worse, when I’m done with her.”

“No,” She could barely whisper through the tears. “Jarlaxle ple–”

His hand shot out.

Werond’s face exploded with pain as he struck her, snapping her head against the stone. Her vision remained clear this time, however, as Jarlaxle grabbed her head and tilted it to look at him.

“You are in no position to ask me of anything.” He said, eyes narrowed. “And the fact that you believe otherwise is disgusting. Now, where was I…”

He grinned – a toothy smile that set every hair standing on the back of her neck.

“Ah, right. You and I are going to have a very long talk about these feelings of yours. After all, it’s always better to come to terms with your failures than to delude yourself otherwise. Helps get through the trauma. And once you’ve moved on from all this,” He cocked his head. “we can find a more suitable location for your pathetic skills. Somewhere far, far away, where none of this can ever bother you again.”

The Drow laughed, eyes gleaming as her heart plummeted.

“Oh, how eager you look. I suppose we should start now, shouldn’t we? Get all those nasty little feelings in order.”

“J-Jarlaxle –”

“What? You think me cruel? I believ

Serena yelped and yanked her hand back as Werond shot up like the dead come back to life; her chest was heaving, her eyes were wide, and sweat trickled down her face as her head spun about, looking for some unseen danger.

“Werond?!” Serena signed.

Werond’s gaze flicked towards her; with a strangled cry, she leapt away and fell on her back, beginning to scramble away. She froze a second later, staring as Serena leapt up in shock, before letting her head fall back, squeezing her eyes shut and covering her face with her hands. Serena could only stare, mouth hanging open at the display.

Across the fire, munching on a fish skewer, Doriyah laughed. Aside from Serena, no one else seemed to notice Werond’s display; Pavel, Jo, and Cruck’aa, further behind Doriyah and almost on the path proper, were all too busy arguing about which way to go next.

“Bad dreams in the bog.” The giant mumbled as a bit of early light flitted through the canopy. “Feels right.”

“Werond?!” Serena signed again, inching closer, heart hammering. “What’s wrong, are –”

Her words died upon her fingers as Werond threw up her hands and shook her head. Body trembling, she wiped away the sweat that coated her face, and when she opened her eyes to meet Serena’s gaze, it was as though she hadn’t slept at all.

A breeze rattled the treetops, carrying with it the sounds of argument, as Werond began to sign. Serena squinted at the shaky signs, before nodding.

“Good morning to you too.” She grinned slightly. “But uhm…you got the M mixed up with N though.”

Despite the horror of whatever she had dreamt still etched clearly across her body, Werond gave her a feeble grin, and made the correct sign.

“Yup, that’s the one.”

Werond nodded and let her head fall back, sucking in a deep breath. Hands against her chest, Serena inched closer, as though she were ready to bolt at any moment. Perhaps she would have, given how horrible she looked.

“Uhm…bad dreams?” Werond nodded. “I’m sorry. Did you –” Werond shook her head. “O-okay. Um…well I’m sorry to wake you up like that, but I think we’re heading out soon. Cruck’aa caught us breakfast, but you were still asleep, so I…here, let me help –”

But Werond had already shoved herself to her feet, not looking at the hand Serena had half-extended. She waved away Doriyah’s offered fish skewer, waved away Serena’s concerns, and briskly walked to the edge of their little clearing, disappearing behind a tree some paces away.

“Nature calls.” Doriyah grumbled, tearing into the passed-up skewer.

Serena grimaced, barely hearing his words; she’d never seen Werond wake up like that, not even during the rougher moments of their time together in Waterdeep. What kind of dreams would make her sweat like that?

She sighed, ignoring the flickers of numb within her chest, and the squawks of anger that drifted through the trees. Despite Werond closing herself off once more, that had been the first “good morning” she’d given Serena in what felt like a long while. Perhaps that, despite everything else, was a good sign.

Serena sucked in a breath, watching the tree until Werond came back into view.

Perhaps things would be a bit better now.