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The day before Orin’s six birthday the temple was abuzz with news of a ghastly string of murders perpetrated in the Gate. First it was a sweet family, butchered in their beds, their insides pulled forth from cracked open ribs and arranged like streamers. Next an orphanage set ablaze, the charred corpses of the children and caretakers piled together in an ashen cairn of burnt flesh.
Her grandfather warned It was coming of age, Orin didn’t understand what he meant then, her nose wrinkling and her little mouth opening to question him but her mother had swiftly removed her from the room as acolytes came to give reports, the contents having grandfather muttering dangerously under his breath. Gooseflesh prickles over Orin’s pale skin, dread pooling in her stomach yet curiosity gnaws at her young mind.
She has never seen grandfather so angry before.
As her mother tucks her into bed that night, Orin cannot help but ask her again.
“Mother, who’s coming?”
Orin watches in confusion as her mother looks at her solemnly, her pale, white eyes locking with her own before she sighs and smoothes Orin’s fair hair away from her face.
“Orin, another Bhaalspawn has been born - your sibling.”
She gasps with delighted surprise, her heart beating wildly in her chest as an excited smile spreads over her pale lips. She won’t be the youngest anymore, the baby - alone.
“I want to meet them.”
“Soon, dearest, they will make their way home. Now go to sleep.” Her mother assures her, kissing her forehead goodnight and leaving her child to sleep.
Only Orin does not sleep, mind racing with thoughts of her sibling and the fun they will have together.
A week had passed, Orin having put the notion of this spawn from her mind in the wake of her birthday, having instead taken up with her newest game. The small, sharp dagger, a new gift from her grandfather, she clutches tightly in her little fist. She giggles as she pins a rat down by its neck, clumsy child hands carving and slicing its black fur and fetid insides.
She frowns as she learns she doesn’t like the taste of rat blood, sour and bitter, she had hoped to find and sample something sweeter - like the honey cakes mother bakes for her.
“Hello, are you dead?”
Orin looks up, white eyes widening in surprise at the sight of a boy. He is young, about her age, Orin’s heart sinks as she realises he is taller than her when she stands too.
“No.”
His eyes are an unusual colour, much like Orin’s own but instead of pure white his are completely devoid of any colour, as black as a charred corpse. His equally dark hair is messy and hangs in his eyes, the tips stiffened with blood and she gasps as she takes in his knife-shaped ears.
“I like your skin, it’s pretty like blood.” He gestures to the swirling red lines always moving and changing like water.
“Thank you, I like your ears. Are they sharp? Can I touch them?” She asks him, dropping the rat unceremoniously and wiping off her little dagger before putting it in its sheath.
The boy smiles and nods. “If I can touch your skin.”
“Okay.” Orin steps closer to him, having to stretch up on her toes to reach the boy’s ears. She smiles as he leans down to cup her face, his thumbs stroking over and prodding at the baby fat on her cheeks, so close she can see a light smattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose.
She frowns as she runs the tip of her finger over the sharp edge of his ears, disappointed when they don’t cut her. “They aren’t sharp.”
“And this isn’t blood. I suppose we are even then.”
“I guess so.” Orin steps back, shuffling from foot to foot.
“What were you doing to that rat?”
“I wanted to see what its insides looked like.” She explains simply. “I like hearing them scream but I’m not fast enough to catch the cats.”
The boys smiled then, a malevolent evil thing that should have made her afraid but she only felt excitement as he reached into his pocket and gave her something foul smelling wrapped in waxed paper. “You should try bait, I made it myself - it's poison. I think you’ll like it.”
“How does it work?” She asked him, sniffing the little cube curiously.
“I’ll show you - come on.” He grins, taking her small hand in his larger one and tugs her down the stairs.
She’s not supposed to pass the steps, let alone the bridge, mother will worry and grandfather will be furious yet she cannot find it within herself to care as the boy leads her out of the temple.
Orin jumps when a strange creature appears next to the boy, clawed hands flapping and tugging at his free arm.
“Master! There you are - I see you have found your sister. Good, good. Come there are many others who are dying to meet you in the temple.”
Sister?
“Oh I was hoping we could play first, Fel.” The boy pouts then, his grip on her hand never wavering.
“There will be plenty of time for that at the Blood Wedding when you are older, Master.” Fel explains, chuckling and he eyes Orin with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Now you must be introduced to the others.”
The boy steps in front of her then, half hiding her behind his large frame. “I will come when I am ready.” He growls. “Go away!”
Orin watches with delighted surprise as the boy grabs her little blade from its scabbard and slits the creature’s throat, blackened blood spilling free and pouring over the stones and Orin’s bare feet. The boy leads her around the body then, handing her dagger back to her.
“He’s so annoying. Wedding this, wedding that. Bah! My Ma said marriage is for grown ups anyway so we have plenty of time to get married.” He says to her and gently starts leading her back down the stairs. “Have you ever been to Baldur’s Gate before?” He asks her, tone suddenly cheerful once more.
“No, I’m not allowed to leave the temple, mother says it's not safe.” She explains, breast tightening with anxiety. “Grandfather will be angry with me.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe. You want to catch a cat right?” He wheedles, his smile cheeky and endearing and Orin cannot help but be comforted by the sight.
She hesitates then, glancing back into the temple, gnawing on her bottom lip before she throws caution to the wind. Whatever grandfather won't know won't hurt him.
“Yes, please show me.” She giggles as the boy playfully pulls her along, leading her out of the sewers and into the Gate.
During the course of the day, Orin listens and learns from her new friend, Tav, he calls himself. They spend the afternoon catching the fat cats from around the docks. When they get bored with opening the cats and painting their guts and blood all over the pavement, Tav shows her the ocean. Orin has never seen anything like this sea before, it's sticky like blood but clear like the bathwater her mother fetches. She decides she likes it as she watches Tav drown a street urchin in the brackish waves.
He takes her hand in his and shows her how he steals things from unknowing shopkeepers, Orin showing him how she can change every aspect of her being to become someone else. They both laugh as they watch the shopkeeper beat his assistant half to death, sharing the sweets she took in the boy’s form.
The sun is an odd thing on her skin, hot and burning, it hurts when she pokes the pink end of her nose and Orin rejoices in the new variation of pain. Her burns hurt less once the sun has gone down, Tav leading her up to one of the gardens, showing her the stars and Orin stares in wonder. How was it possible that another world existed outside of the temple, that the air could smell like more than rot and incense and the sky could twinkle and change like Orin’s skin.
She listens attentively as he regales her with stories about these star-things, his hand warm in her own even as the chill of the night air has them huddling together.
“I think I’ll like it in the temple,” He murmurs softly against her hair, his hand holding hers tighter. “I’ve never had a real friend before or a sister. We are going to have so much fun together.”
And Orin cannot wait to see what their future holds.