Prototype's Gate

As Zeus left, the tension in the air finally eased, allowing the group to relax.

"His face is so unsettling to look at, especially when you can’t see his eyes," Shadowheart murmured, her gaze lingering on the door where Zeus had exited.

"Maybe it's some kind of one-way mirror," Gale speculated.

Astarion leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing in thought. "So, do we go with him or not?" he asked, his voice a mixture of curiosity and reluctance.

Wyll closed his eyes for a moment, drawing in a deep breath before speaking. "I think we should. Jaheira told me that infiltrating the towers is no longer necessary, but I can’t just sit idle, knowing I can make a difference."

"Ah, Wyll and his heroism," Shadowheart muttered from the side, her tone laced with sarcasm. But before anyone could respond, she flinched, a sharp pain flashing across her face as a purple glowing mark appeared on her hand, only to vanish moments later.

Astarion’s keen eyes caught the movement. "What's that?" he asked, his attention now fully on her.

"I don’t know," Shadowheart replied, her voice tinged with frustration. "It appears from time to time, and it hurts... a lot."

"Perhaps Zeus could dispel it if it’s some kind of curse," Gale suggested, "especially given that Selune’s magic is particularly strong against curses."

Before Shadowheart could respond, the mark reappeared, glowing brighter this time. She gasped, clenching her teeth against the pain as she held her hand, willing it to disappear.

"Ahhh," she hissed through clenched teeth until the mark finally faded once more. She shot Gale a sharp glare, her patience clearly wearing thin.

"Sorry," Gale said quickly, offering an apologetic smile, but the concern in his eyes was evident.

_______________

Alex had made his way back to the dome. As he approached, the harpers nearly shot him again, but quickly recognized him, lowering their weapons. His eyes swept over the area, noting the improvised tents that had sprung up all around the main yard. The place had become a makeshift camp, with harpers moving about, preparing for whatever was to come.

As Alex’s gaze drifted to his right and ahead, his eyes settled on a small, solitary tent tucked away from the others. There was something forlorn about it, almost as if it had been purposely distanced from the rest of the camp. He moved toward it, pushing aside the flap with a quiet determination. Inside, the dim light revealed Minthara, still lying on her bedroll, seemingly asleep. But Alex knew better.

"You can stop pretending," Alex said softly as he raised his hand, forming an invisible barrier around the tent, ensuring no sound would escape. He secured the entrance behind him, sealing them off from the outside world.

Minthara’s eyes slowly fluttered open, the deep crimson of her gaze dulled by a sadness that seemed to weigh down her very soul. She looked up at him as he sat beside her, her expression one of profound loss—an emptiness that ran deeper than any physical wound.

"You came," she whispered, her voice barely audible, almost as if she feared speaking too loudly would shatter whatever fragile hope she still clung to. "I prayed you would, but there are no gods left to me."

Her hand reached out slowly, fingers trembling as they grasped his. The contact was tentative, as though she feared he might pull away. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself feel the warmth of his hand against hers—a fleeting comfort in the cold void of her mind.

"That thing that spoke inside me—it has all but destroyed me. But... it's gone now ." Minthara’s voice trembled as she spoke of the tadpole, the vile parasite that had corrupted her mind and soul, twisting her into something she scarcely recognized. "I last left Moonrise as a commander in the Absolute’s army, obeying the voice of a god. I thought I had found home...and a purpose."

She paused, her red eyes locking onto his featureless face , searching for something—perhaps understanding, perhaps forgiveness. Her grip tightened on his hand, as if holding onto him might anchor her in reality.

"You rescued me," she said, her voice breaking slightly, the weight of those words carrying a depth of gratitude and sorrow. "For that, I am grateful. Thank you for bringing me back to myself."

"How are you feeling?" Alex asked gently, his tone soft yet laced with concern.

Minthara closed her eyes as if in pain, her brow furrowing. "Each memory that returns to me is more disturbing than the last. The things I did in the name of the Absolute...the things that were done to me. They broke my mind."

"You’re strong—you’ll recover," Alex replied, his voice firm as if willing it to be true. But he knew, deep down, that this was not a wound that could be so easily healed. He had mended her physical scars, but the emotional and psychological ones... those would linger, possibly forever.

Minthara nodded weakly, her gaze drifting back to the tent’s roof, as if finding solace in the mundane detail of its fabric. "We must eradicate them, starting with General Thorm... I mean Ketheric. My deference to him is a habit that will die hard, I fear."

"You’ll join me in the battle, then?" Alex asked, knowing that this was more than just a question of loyalty—it was a step toward her reclaiming her agency, her identity.

"Not only this battle, but all that come after," she replied, her voice gaining a measure of strength. She turned to face him again, her eyes sharp and piercing, as if trying to see into the depths of his soul.

"Swear that you will keep me close... until the Absolute is dead, at least."

"I swear," Alex said, his voice steady, the promise binding in its simplicity.

A small smile appeared on Minthara’s lips, a fragile thing, but genuine. "Thank you," she whispered, the words heavy with unspoken emotions.

"I need to inspect your mind to see how it’s healing. May I?" Alex asked gently, his hand hovering near her temple.

She nodded and closed her eyes, surrendering to his touch.

As Alex focused on her mind, he could feel the cracks and fractures, like a shattered window slowly being pieced back together. But there were holes, deep and dark, that would never fully mend. Yet within the cold, guarded fortress of her psyche, he felt something else—trust, and a small measure of affection. It was a rare and precious thing, buried deep within her, but it was there, fragile yet resilient.

Alex nodded, pulling back. "Your mind is healing well. Rest now."

He began to rise, but Minthara’s hand gripped his firmly, stopping him in his tracks.

"Please... stay with me a few moments longer," Minthara pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper, a raw vulnerability in her tone.

Alex hesitated for only a moment before he sat back down, his hand still holding hers. They sat in silence, the weight of the moment hanging between them. For now, they shared a quiet peace, a rare reprieve from the chaos of their lives. And in that fleeting moment, they were simply two souls finding solace in each other’s presence.

_______________________________________________________________

Zeus and Minthara entered the inn, drawing immediate tension from Wyll, Astarion, Shadowheart, Gale, Alfira, and Ellyka, who were seated around a table, enjoying a moment of laughter. The sight of Minthara, the former enemy, standing beside Zeus made the group tense, their hands inching toward weapons.

"What is she doing here?" Wyll's voice was cold as he eyed Minthara, his hand hovering near his sword's hilt. The rest of the group mirrored his unease, their cheerful demeanor quickly replaced by caution.

Minthara hesitated, glancing at Zeus, who gave her a reassuring nod. "I'm your ally now, and I will fight against the Absolute," she said, her voice firm despite the palpable tension in the room.

Astarion leaned back in his chair, a skeptical smirk on his face. "And are you sure we want you in our party?" he quipped, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Minthara’s eyes flashed with irritation, but before she could respond, Zeus raised a hand, silencing the brewing conflict. "We will need to work together if we want to achieve our goal," he said calmly, setting a golden staff and a sack beside him as he took a seat at the table. Minthara and Astarion exchanged glares before both decided it wasn’t worth escalating the tension further. Minthara pulled out a chair and joined the table, though the atmosphere remained charged with unspoken doubts.

Just then, the door to Alex's room creaked open, and he stepped out, his eyes scanning the room until he spotted his companions. He made his way over, and Gale was the first to speak.

"Where have you been, Alex?" Gale asked, curiosity piqued.

Alex paused, a hint of embarrassment crossing his face. "Well," he began, hesitating slightly, "since we left the camp back at the abandoned church, my stomach was hurting really bad, and when we reached the inn, I took the chance to relieve myself."

The table erupted into laughter, with Astarion, Wyll, Gale, and Shadowheart laughing the hardest.

"That's why you were keeping that serious face? To not soil yourself? Hahaha!" Wyll teased, trying to hold back his laughter. "And I thought something important was pressing on your mind."

Alex shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips despite the teasing. The tension that Minthara's presence had caused was momentarily eased by the shared laughter.

Turning to Alfira, Alex greeted her warmly. "Hi, Alfira."

She returned his smile, though it was tinged with a hint of nervousness. "Hi, Alex. Wyll told me what you and the rest of his party have been through to reach the inn. I’m glad you made it."

"I'm glad you did too," Alex replied, his voice sincere. "I heard some Harpers talking about how you got ambushed some tieflings got captured by the cultists on the way here."

"It was a harrowing experience," Alfira admitted, her voice softening as she looked at Zeus. "But Zeus saved everyone. And I have something for you, a sign of gratitude for saving Lakrissa."

With that, she brought forth an intricately designed robe. The robe was a masterpiece, featuring a rich purple base color with teal sleeves, adorned with elaborate golden patterns that resembled vines and floral motifs. The golden embroidery was detailed, with leaf-like designs that gave the robe an organic, almost ethereal quality. The high, ornate collar added to its regal appearance, and the entire garment was surrounded by a soft, glowing purple aura, indicating powerful magical properties.

"Alfira, you can't. That's Lihala's robe," Ellyka interjected, her voice filled with concern.

Alfira shook her head, her expression resolute. "Every time I look at it, it reminds me of her. I don’t want to live in the past anymore. That’s why I want to give it to you, to create a better future."

Zeus gently took the robe from her. "Thank you, but I fear it would be of little use to me," he said, handing the robe back to Alfira. "But I think Wyll's party would find it useful."

Alfira turned to Wyll, offering the robe once more. "What does the robe do?" Wyll asked, curiosity evident in his voice.

"It increases the power of your cantrips if you have strong charisma," she explained.

"I think it will suit Wyll very nicely," Gale chimed in, nodding in approval.

Wyll reached out and took the robe, his expression sincere. "Thank you, Alfira," he said, a genuine smile on his face.

"Have you decided if you want to follow me to the Grand Mausoleum ? " Zeus asked.

Wyll looked at his teammates followed by a firm nod .

Zeus then turned his attention to the sack he had brought, placing its contents on the table. A couple of rings and a dark chest piece caught Astarion's eye, his interest piqued.

"What's with those?" Astarion asked, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"These items are enchanted. They will help us traverse the mist easier," Zeus explained, picking up an amulet that glowed with a faint, magical light. "This is the Spectator Eyes, a very rare amulet that allows the wearer to cast Ray of Fear and Wounding Ray once per day."

He picked up another trinket, a ring this time. "Mage's Friend is a ring that improves the wearer's knowledge of Arcana and Religion." Zeus picked up another ring, this one glinting in the light. "This is The Guiding Light, a ring that allows the wearer to cast the Light cantrip."

Pointing to the dark chestplate, Zeus continued, "This is Penumbral Armor. It increases the damage of the attack if the wearer is obscured. Astarion, you can take it already."

Without hesitation, Astarion grabbed the chest piece and began putting it on, his movements quick and eager.

Zeus picked up another ring, holding it up for the group to see. "This is the Coruscation Ring. It causes spells to deal additional radiant damage, but the wearer must be illuminated for this effect to occur." He picked up one last ring, one that had been tucked under a loose plank in his room. "This is the Snowburst Ring. It creates a 4.5m circle of ice around their target when dealing cold damage."

Finally, Zeus set a staff on the table. "This is the Staff of Arcane Blessing, a quarterstaff that grants the wielder the ability to cast Bless once a day, and when under the effect of Bless, it increases the damage of spells cast. I think it will suit Gale pretty well."

Gale’s eyes gleamed with appreciation as he reached for the staff. "I’ll put it to good use," he said, his voice filled with gratitude.

"Now we just need to wait for Karlach to wake up and we are good to go . " Zeus said .