Chapter Text
There is an old story in Faerûn, of an even older hero. A paladin of the crown who sacrificed her oath, her dignity and her freedom to save a prisoner. She was forsaken by the Moonmaiden, being stripped of all her former glory.
Her statues remain in the Shadowlands. The darkness almost feels fitting for such a coward. After all, how could the love of a human be worth the eternal disgrace of a deity?
This is the story of the Cowardly Paladin.
It is a befitting name, considering that history does not remember her own.
It is likely that she has no surviving family, given her disappearance 120 years ago. It is a mere impossibility that a tiefling such as her could live for so long. Even less possible is that the sickly woman she risked so much to save lived longer than a week after the paladin’s grand heist.
Thanks to her statues, we can recall her face, but every mention of her name has been erased. However, we do know the name of the prisoner, a human woman named Ama-
~~~
“Hey! Are you even listening to me?”
A voice snaps the half-elf out of her trance-like state. She had been so absorbed by the book that she didn’t notice the passing of hours. The sun was setting over the camp, casting rays of orange and gold across the landscape. It was fascinating, how somehow the light of a distant star could grace her eyes with such a marvellous sight. Below her perch, her companions bustled around the camp, preparing for the final battle that lay ahead of them in the morning.
Shadowheart waved her hand in front of the woman’s face again, white hair falling across her eyes.
Amalie was content to stay silent for now, resigning to slowly put her book away on top of her pack which lay discarded by her side.
“The world is ending, and you’re still reading.” She teased, without a hint of malice in her voice, “You know, I really see why you and Gale get along so much, Amalie.”
Amalie scoffed, “Please, he wouldn’t know a good book if it hit him in the face. Besides, this one’s really interesting.” Shadowheart’s eyes raised at the blush creeping up her friend’s face. Really, it was ridiculous. They’d been dating for months now and she still found herself blushing like a schoolgirl at the mention of Gale’s name.
Her friend leaned across Amalie to see the tome, silver braid smacking her in the face as she did so. After a quickly muttered apology, Shadowheart groaned, “Really? That paladin again? Reaally?”
“Yep.”
It seemed like wherever they went, artifacts and books about the strange paladin would appear. None of the other members of the group, even the most historically learned (Gale) or old (Jaheria), had any clue who it was. Karlach had remarked one morning, after they found a statue of the woman, that she vaguely remembered a girl in her Baldurian youth mentioning the woman, attributing a name to the legend, but the particulars had slipped her mind after so long.
Besides, Shadowheart was right. There were bigger issues than a lost paladin. They had a brain to fight.
The two half-elves watched the sunrise together, not saying much. The morning would come soon enough, and for now, just this one moment, they could enjoy the peace. Calm before the storm, as they say.
“You two look cheerful.” A familiar voice rang out from behind them. Amalie’s lips widened into a smile as she invited Gale to sit with them, “Any reason you’re both brooding up here?” He spared barely a glance at Shadowheart before taking a spot next to Amalie, linking their hands together.
They both went to answer at the same time, the cleric with “The Paladin again.”, and the sorcerer with “What happens when we win?”
“When is optimistic.” Shadowheart scoffed, before her voice softened, “I don’t know.”
Gale remained uncharacteristically silent, something Amalie noticed and squeezed his hand. She hoped he wasn’t thinking of the orb again.
“I don’t know either.” Amalie whispered, unsure if Shadowheart could even hear her.
“Maybe we’ll find the Paladin.” Gale joked as he looked at Amalie, a strange almost sad expression in his brown eyes. He pressed a kiss to her cheek as Shadowheart exclaimed something, but Amalie wasn’t paying attention anymore.
“I hope that wasn’t our last kiss. I’d take a thousand more if I could.” Gale muttered into Amalie’s dark hair as they hugged. He was so warm, so full of life. If they didn’t make it out of this, she would personally hunt down his ghost and make sure he got a second chance. She looked up at him, lashes wet and let the tears fall, just in case they were her last. He looked like he was desperately holding in tears of his own.
Amalie stood on a dock, only dimly registering the people around her. Were there less than usual? Only dimly registering the pain, the exhaustion, the fear. One emotion stood above all.
No.
No.
This is a nightmare. A mindflayer trick. The cruel mechanisations of a tadpoled mind. It was taking her over. Ceremorphosis. This was it. Her soul was being consumed. She would become a monster, a monster just like she had always known deep down she was. Her true self. Yes, that was it.
This was her death.
Death. A cruel shadow that chases everyone.
It was death that was making her body wrack with sobs, her heart pound with a force that sent shocks of agony through her, darkness at the edge of her vision.
It was death that had tore her heart out, not Gale. Not lovely, sweet Gale. He would never leave her.
It was the pale shadow of death that had spoken those vile words.
“I thought you wise enough to see I am not the man I once was.”
It- It didn’t even sound like him. Too cold. Too consumed with something other. It was Not Gale. The mindflayer tricks piling up.
She had begged.
“Where the fuck has this came from? You told me you were going to give the crown to Mystra!”
“Why would I do that?” He had sounded confused, genuinely confused.
“Because you-“
She had cried.
It was all for nought.
Had the brain even been defeated? Was this just another trick?
“Amalie.” Not Shadowheart grabbed her by the shoulders suddenly, forcing her to look at her. Her green eyes were wide and filled with more concern than she had ever seen from her friend.
Even thinking his name hurt, another stab of agony through her.
Not Shadowheart shouted something to Not Jaheria and Not Minsc.
“Amalie!” Not Shadowheart stepped back, only a fraction, but Amalie recognised the fear in her eyes. It was cloudy, but it was there, yes it was there. Her best friend was afraid.
She had ruined everything.
Amalie had grown up in fear of herself, despite her mothers’ words. The wild magic surges that plagued her kind were feared all throughout the lands. She was dangerous. She was uncontrollable, a variable that could slip around the careful mechanisms of the Weave. It was hardwired into her, she was a mistake.
She felt it overcome her, and her eyes squeezed shut. It felt different to before, she dimly thought, as her heart continued to pound in her chest.
“Stress can make them worse. So probably don’t do that. Or do, might be good in a boring fight.”
“…Be stressed?” Amalie blinked up at her mom, confused.
Her mother replied with an exasperated groan from the other side of the room, “For gods sakes Stella, that’s not how you-“
She didn’t care for her mothers’ lessons anymore.
Amalie had accepted her reality.
She had failed to take down the brain, and the tadpole had plunged her into hell.
Amalie had no reason to not let the surge consume her.
After all, she was about to turn into a mindflayer anyway.
Shadowheart watched in horror, desperately trying to drag the life back to her friend’s eyes. She did not move, for she was not afraid. She knew in her heart that there was nothing Amalie could not get through eventually, and that she would help her in any way she could, the same way Amalie had done for her. She had been planning to go at the adventuring life alone, but now she had no doubts in her mind. Amalie would come with her! And they would stay well clear of Waterdeep, and eventually maybe it would hurt less.
She didn’t even notice the surge, too focussed on trying to get the girl to stop staring at the horizon. Jaheria warned her, but she stayed. Of course she stayed.
When it came, something in the universe shifted.
A butterfly, a little blue thing, landed on Amalie’s head.
THIS IS NOT THE ENDING FATE HAD IN MIND FOR YOU.
WOULD YOU LIKE TO TRY AGAIN?
YES/NO
a woman’s will shoots to yes, and something forever changes within her.
butterflies fill her vision, swallowing her whole and taking her to a place and time she could never have imagined.