Chapter Text
Aylin was once again praying. In nearly the same location, though it looked so different now, it was almost impossible to tell, unless one was a druid or god-touched. She was upon a floating island, one of many dotting the skies, hundreds of feet above the land. Most had a building or two upon them, but the one the half-god knelt upon was more of a park, complete with scattered trees and a fountain.
She finished with her prayers and stood, no need to dismiss her armor or wings this time, she had not summoned them. She had not done so for many moons now. Many. She stared at the full moon, watching the distant orb, nestled amongst unmoving stars.
Matching the stars, she stood; activity buzzing all about her, busy mortals going about their business. Leaping from floating island to island or traversing the skies in flying vehicles. The latter’s headlights illuminating her as they drove by, drowning out the moonlight.
A flying motorcycle darted in and out of traffic, overtaking the slower vehicles, before whipping by the floating park so quickly that Aylin was pulled back down to earth, so to speak. She shook her head as she watched it speed away. These overly modern metal contraptions made too much noise, smell, and light by far for Aylin’s taste. She would never get used to them; let go of her scorn for them. Mortals lived such a short time. Why did they feel the need to continually change their world so greatly?
The irresponsible driver exited from the designated travel airspace, skipping over the barrier, then sharply turned around, their engine roaring terribly. They zoomed directly to Aylin’s floating island, landing somewhat less than elegantly, tires screeching, leaving harsh, black, smoking marks on the small pathway. The moment the bike was (mostly) stopped, the rider leapt from it, leaving it to clatter to the ground on its side.
Aylin passively watched this strange figure, clad in black and purple riding leathers, with a matching helmet, not bothering to step away as they approached.
The rider pulled off his helmet, revealing a very familiar face, wearing a fanged grin. “Aylin! There you are!” This time his hair was dyed a deep purple, with bright matching highlights.
“Astarion.”
“It has been so long!” He tossed his helmet at his bike, then pranced over, grinning. “I’d apologize for missing our last scheduled meet up, but I have absolutely no idea if I was the one who failed to appear, leaving you waiting, or the other way round! You are a hard woman to find, do you know that?”
“It has been some time since we have last met.”
He twirled away. “How long? A century mayhaps?” he plopped down on the edge of the floating island, peering down into the mists below.
“Eighty-three years.”
He blinked then laughed, looking up at her. “I will take your word for it.” He tilted his head, asking, “Why the long celestial face?”
“I am tired.”
“Hrm…” Astarion tilted his head back more and more, then finally thudded down onto his back, looking up at her, inching towards her. “Tired of what?”
“Everything.”
“Well, do I have the solution to that!” He held an arm straight up at her, wiggling a bright white envelope clutched in his hand.
After a moment she accepted the offering, sitting down next to him at the edge of the floating park. Opening the flap triggered a stored enchantment; a small Astarion, with bright blue hair, was projected at her. Words started appearing around the figure, in time with his arm movements.
YOU ARE INVITED TO MY GRAND MILLENNIUM CELEBRATION!
The figure kept moving, but no more words appeared; Astarion explained, “Rest assured, date and location will be updated later. Make sure you keep checking! First wanted to get the essentials squared away before the fiddly little details. Close it and open it once more!”
She did so, the scene repeated, except this time Astarion’s hair was red. The larger Astarion giggled and reached over, pressing it closed again, when he removed his hand this time his smaller duplicate’s hair was green.
“Impressive. Does it ever show your true hue?”
“Mmm, what is that again?” He batted his eyes at her before laughing, “Yes, yes, au naturelle is in there as well… mmm, I suppose I should start to nail down the location. What city is due for a razing… Calimport, mayhaps? Would anyone even notice…?”
Aylin tucked the invitation away into a pocket, staring out at the passing traffic.
“I have been planning this for decades. One thousand years of freedom!” He clasped his hands together, grinning. “Perhaps we will have such a celebration it will herald a new age! You will come, yes?”
“Did you not already have a millennium celebration?”
He waved dismissively. “That was my one thousandth birthday! This is far more important. That was a… test run. We failed to even start a minor war. Everything petered out oh so quickly…”
She kept staring, then startled as Astarion’s grinning face was suddenly in front of hers, he laughed and leaned away once more. “Soooooooo. Why don’t you ever have parties? Or do you have parties and my invitations are lost in the post? Repeatedly? Or are you worried I’d get my undead vampire ick all over your celestially aligned friends and relations?”
“I do not make a habit of advertising my whereabouts. You commented I was hard to locate. That is why. Even now mortals seek to pillage my essence for their own purposes.”
“Ugh. Still?!” He frowned, wrinkling his nose. “Sorry to hear it. You can be sure I do not miss those days. All manner of men and beasties seeking to gain from that infernal contract that was once upon my back…” He giggled, kicking his legs. “Gone now, for centuries!”
“I am truly glad for you. That you have lost your physical scars.”
“Not just the physical. Oh, Aylin, it is truly amazing how much things fade! The most horrid of events simply merge into an indistinct whole; becoming more distant with every new sunset. Not everything, mind, but so much of it; grievous wounds upon my soul I thought would never mend are vanished now, without even the most minor of marks remaining…” He smiled, putting his hands behind him as he leaned back, gazing at the stars.
“Not everything fades.” Aylin remained staring straight ahead, sitting ramrod straight. “Not love. Not the pain of love’s departure.”
“Ah. Um. What?” Astarion eloquently retorted, his smile frozen on his face. He blinked, then leaned towards her, softly saying, “I find… that too fades in time. All hurts do…”
She was silent for a time, he patiently waited for her to speak, the words coming slowly, her eyes unfocused. “Do you truly remember the ages past? When we first met? Both freshly free?”
“Ah! Weeeeeeelll… Yeeeees and noooo…” He wiggled his hands about. “The more dramatic large-scale events? Mostly? Probably? Smaller matters? Eh…” He made as if brushing dust off his jacket sleeve. “I find most minutia tend to last a mere, oh… five or six centuries before they start to diminish in earnest, if I do not work to preserve them.” He kicked his legs back and forth again while gazing down at the land far, far below. Turning to her, he said with a grin, “I remember… enough!”
“I remember everything.”
“Whoa.” His eyes widened, then he tilted his head to the side, considering. “Well, I have never forgotten how to love again. Once I would have thought it a certainty to occur, yet again! But no, the years have seen a much smaller parade of lovers, ah, but much more satisfying. Position currently filled. Nnnnot that I thought you were wondering!”
“I see now why you still smile such, walk with a spring to your steps… the blessing of imperfect memory. I tried to take another love. But in her… I could see only the imperfect reflection of my lost Isobel. You have your lover parade and your people.”
Astarion raised a finger, correcting her, “Ah! No, I had a people. Had. Past tense. We are rather a myth now. Why, I think it is fair to say most mortals do not even believe vampires were ever anything but a legend to scare children.” He paused, tapping his chin. “I was perhaps too successful in my efforts. Ah, well, I would rather be a myth than a weekend fantasy.” He winked.
“Explain to me the meaning of your words.”
“You really do not know? I have seen you since… mm, I suppose it is rather a depressing subject for conversation…” He coughed and then stood up, walking a few paces from the edge before turning to say. “I no longer have a people. It was nice for a time… to have a place to truly belong, hamlets and towns filled with those like me. Who all truly understood. Buuuuut as the centuries wore on, weeeeeell, between the advancements in curing the condition, natural attrition, and well, purposeful attrition. Baldur’s spawn are no more. Not in quantities enough to matter, at least…”
“What is purposeful attrition?”
“Ah, well, many of my kin, who were beyond the reach of any cure, eventually felt the weight of the unending years.” He shrugged. “Cannot say I understand it myself… flinging oneself into the sun or surf? No thank you.” He put a hand on his hip and mimed tossing the notion away with gusto.
“You speak of a path denied to me.”
“Oh please. You’re creative, you could find a way to end it all, if you really wanted. I believe in you!”
She stared at him, then was forced to nod, looking away, down at the land far, far below.
“I still cannot believe that the last of my siblings remaining are Aurelia and Petras! I steadfastly refuse to leave this unlife until they have both proceeded me.” He meandered in a small circle, prattling on as she silently sat. “Petras, well, that does not need to be explained. Aurelia… I will be the oldest spawn in recorded history! Did you know she has not even two decades of years beyond my own? A rounding error at this point, but nooooo, how she lords it over me that she is the oldest!” He flung his hands up in fake distress.
Aylin rose to her feet, turning to face him. “How are you so joyous, when you have lost so many?”
“Ah…” He worried his hands together, touching his pointer fingers together, spinning them back and forth. “I will not lie I… some days… I do…” Astarion shook his head, laughing. “Let me begin again. The first was special. My first remembered love… the one who saved me, showed me I still was capable of love. How there was worth remaining in me, that I was more than his tool… beyond puppet or protégé. At times, rare mind you, but at times, I do weep. Thinking that perhaps; in my long long walk, of endless experiences most fantastic, I will never encounter that singular special soul again. Buuuut…” he trailed off, leaning towards her, grinning.
“But?”
“Nothing can truly last forever. Not even me…” He put a hand on his chest, then tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “Probably? Who knows what my second millennium will bring? Perhaps I will piece the veil and return to tell the tale…”
“You remember enough, feel grief, yet still are so radiant. I do not understand.”
“I find now, it is not the passing of a single person that weighs upon my heart. Oh, yes, I am properly full of sadness when a loved one passes, but I am far more troubled when I realize a lineage has faded.” Astarion looked out over the continual stream of vehicles floating by, softly chuckling as he said, “At my grand celebration, there will be dozens of Dekarioses, heaps of Hallowleafs, gaggles of githyanki, and so many roving Ravengards. But a critical lack of Cliffgates, an absence of Ancuníns, nor any souls remaining who will have a small silver harp pin nestled somewhere on their person.”
“I was surprised when learned the Harpers were no more.”
“The realm moves on, I suppose…” He smiled at her. “Do you know where the last remaining cell was? Baldur’s Gate, of course! I was the one to… close up shop, in the end, so to speak.” He bit his lip, taking a moment to wipe his eyes.
“Baldur’s Gate. Waterdeep. The grand cities of mortals, how they too change. Faster than I would have thought possible these more recent centuries. Ages past places remained recognizable for centuries, now after a mere two or three score absence it is as if I am exploring a new land, not walking streets I once knew. I am sure you feel similar.”
“Ah, maybe?” He looked around the floating landmasses. How long had these been here?
“Do you know we talked here once? This is Reithwin town. What remains…”
Astarion looked blank for a moment and then hesitantly said, “Theeee… place with a curse? And a very ugly barman? Ruled over by that… uh… Thorn general?”
“General Thorm.”
“That’s what I said.”
“He was Isobel’s father.”
“He was? … oh! Yes… he was. Yes…” He giggled nervously then coughed. “So, here to relive your good times then? A new friend down there?” He waggled his eyebrows at her.
“No. I journey alone.”
“Ugh, how cliché and dour. Come now, meet some new people! Go check up on the descendants of old! Trust me, it is ever so much fun to pop by every twenty years or so to say hello!” He rocked on his heels. “Yeeeees, sometimes upsetting but, there is nothing to do for it. Future sadness is the cost of present joy.”
“You truly do not remember our words exchanged here, do you?”
Astarion ignored her question. “Meeting new people, with no idea of my past, who I need not ever tell of how I once suffered? Why… it is freeing in a way I could have never comprehended when we first met. So, what if they shall all die one day? They are here now!”
She crossed her arms, staring down at him.
“Committed to being grumpy, are we? Well, I don’t know about you. If you ever told me I have forgotten. But I cannot recall what it was like to live a normal mortal life. Nor shall I ever. I do not see the point in being mopey about having too much of any life now! Hmph!” He crossed his own arms, glaring up at her.
She sighed, raising her eyes up to the brilliant moon once more.
Astarion followed her gaze, motioning at it. “Come on now, I mean, think of the benefits you do have. Your mother is still here. You have not had to see your mother die. You will never have to hold her hand and watch, helpless, as the light leaves her eyes.” He dropped his hand down to smack against his pants, huffing, “Be happy for what you have, not what you lack.”
At that moment, Aylin realized the truth of it, what she had been denying to herself; a notion rejected due to her unending fondness for the ephemeral populous of these realms. This world she loved, very deeply, as her mother did, but a land she was never at home in. No, the ethereal realm resonated far stronger in her soul. Half mortal she may be, but it was her mother’s essence that dominated, in all ways that could possibly matter. Dame Aylin was of the Gods. This was not her world, no matter how many millennia she resided in it, nestled in its comforting embrace, it never could change her soul, wear her down, not alter her mind. She was of Elysium stock, and would be forever more so, till the end of all. Isobel was a special, welcome, intrusion into her world.
“I am of the gods. My memories do not, shant not, fade nor blunt. It is as if Isobel died yesterday. No. This very minute. Fresh grief, unending.”
As the godling had been standing motionless for some time, Astarion was seconds away from poking her arm; he quickly dropped his hand down and stepped away, eyebrows raised. “Weighty burden you bear.”
“Nay, tis no burden! Though I had thought it such! All the world has forgotten my fair Isobel. Thus, I will carry her memory within me; shepherding her laugh, her smell, her taste, all of her, into brighter days to come!”
“There you are. I told you that you were a hard woman to find, Dame Aylin!”
She laughed, summoning her armor and spreading her wings out behind her. “Do not fret! I will bless your celebration with my presence! Consider this my RSVP!” She leapt off the edge of the floating park, vanishing from view for a moment before soaring up, pausing in her flight to shout, “And… put me down for… a plus one!”
“You don’t need a plus one! It’s not a wedding! You can just bring someone!” He cupped his hands around his mouth as she flew farther away, calling after her, “Nobody is getting married! Well, I’m not getting married! I don’t care if others get married!” He dropped his hands down with a laugh, shaking his head as she flew farther and farther away.
What a sudden turn around! Weirdo half god woman. Astarion had been asked on several occasions throughout the centuries why he was not closer friends with her. This is why. She may be a constant, but he did not understand her; and if he did not understand her by now, how could he ever hope to do so?
Astarion retrieved his helmet, jamming it on before he righted his bike and took off again. He took a moment to look out at the stars, that whole cosmos to explore… one day. Not today. Cutting off a car, he rejoined the flow of traffic, not even registering all the honking cars and shouts that maneuver earned him as he made the engine roar, zipping in and out of the lanes once more. Talking to Aylin had taken more time than he anticipated, he’d be a just a bit late to dinner. No worries, Astarion was confident his latest partner would understand; the man did often complain he never had enough time to catch up with his parents, after all!