Chapter Text
“You’re going to suffer for everything you did to me!”
The pained fury in Astarion’s voice echoes throughout the cavern.
Even after hearing about his past in these previous months, your heart breaks again for the suffering in his words.
You catch your breath as Astarion races across the platform to reach Cazador. His vampire master has already taken quite the beating from Shadowheart and Gale while you raced over to free your lover from the ascension ritual.
You didn’t know how long you had, you just knew you needed to get there before Cazador finished his chanting and your lover was gone forever.
You thank any god listening that you were able to save him, at least for now.
Grabbing the two blades resting on his back, Astarion lunges. Striking first with a shortsword taken from Orin after defeating her a few days prior.
The scarlet blade pierces straight through Cazador's chest, and is quickly followed up with the Knife of the Undermountain King.
It’s a weapon Astarion had immediately eyed up at the Githyanki Creche… was that really only a few ten-days ago? It feels like a lifetime ago at this point. The unique looking weapon has been one of his few constants since – besides your crew of adventurers and the unwelcome tadpoles.
This last slice seems to do Cazador in, the small man’s knees slam against the floor and you notice his eyes rolling into the back of his head.
But before he falls to the ground in finality, his entire body bursts into a swarm of bats and black mist, momentarily disrupting your vision. The mass flashes over to the casket in the center of the platform and disappears inside.
Of course it isn’t going to end that easily.
The four of you – plus a few spirit guardians and a fire elemental, finish off the remaining bats, werewolves, and skeleton.
Blood soaks into the stone beneath and covers each of you from head to toe with streaks of cast off.
But the main fight is done.
You are relieved at having survived another battle, even if the feeling is short lived. The primary source of this fight has yet to be dealt with.
Looking as if he didn’t take a moment to rest, Astarion stalks towards the casket and shoves the massive cover off.
You give him space, but stick nearby in case Astarion needs support, be it in battle of the body or of the heart.
“No, no. No healing sleep for you.” His voice pitches into a scream as he grabs Cazador’s resting body and tosses it out. “Wake up!”
The vampire master tumbles into the space between you and Astarion, who jumps down from the dias and stands to tower over the cowering man.
“Get your hands off me, worm. ” Cazador hisses while trying to sit up onto his knees.
You’ve heard the tales, know how awful he has treated Astarion over the last two centuries. But hearing his evil arrogance and the way he speaks to Astarion has your blood boiling to temperatures rivaling Karlach.
Bloodied and bruised, Cazador still thinks himself superior.
Even beaten, this piece of shit verbally kicks at your love. A man who not only had everything taken away from him, but forced into a life void of free-will and riddled with torture.
How dare he .
You growl in your mind, a beast inside you whose only goal is to protect Astarion. It wants nothing more than to end his existence yourself. But you leave it to the one who deserves it the most.
Astarion laughs with a deep sense of satisfaction. “I’m not the one in the dirt.” Pointing to himself in the familiar dramatic way you’ve grown to adore.
But then something changes in his expression. He pauses, and reaches down to grab something.
A dagger.
Metal swirls in an intricate pattern at the base of the hilt, winding together until it forms the length of the blade and ends in an extended point. It’s Cazador’s dagger that dropped when he was flung onto the ground.
Light reflects off the steel and into Astarion’s eyes, round and framed by creased brows as he considers the reality of his situation.
“One last thrust… and I’ll be free of you.” His voice quivers. “I’ll never have to fear you, again.”
A deep sort of sadness that only comes from years of trauma fills his words. “But if I finish the ritual you started, I’ll never have to fear anyone.” Suddenly he changes, twisting into a cruel mirror of the man at his feet. “ Ever. ”
Ice fills your veins as you look upon the scene and face the moment you’ve been dreading since that damned devil revealed Cazador’s plans. Astarion wants to take his place and become an ascended vampire. Sacrificing all those souls in the process.
“You think me a fool?” Szarr’s words momentarily distract you from the oncoming storm.
“That I would allow anyone to usurp me, speak the words, and ascend in my place? The ruins I carved into your flesh bind you and all seven thousand souls to the ritual. Complete it and those bearing the scars will be sacrificed - you included.”
You hear the self-satisfying sneer in Cazador’s words. “You are simply a means to an end. I made you to be consumed.”
The protective beast inside you roars again at his words.
Astarion sneers back. “I am so much more than what you made me.”
You feel a flash of pride at his retort before the ice returns when Astarion looks up to lock eyes with you.
“I can do this. But I need your help.”
You see the fear in his eyes. The desperation. All he wants is to feel safe after centuries of never knowing an ounce of it. He covets the dream of his master in a desire to take revenge. But you know all too well that it doesn’t simply work that way.
This is how the cycle of pain continues.
But it doesn’t have to. He can stop it here. This doesn’t need to be a never ending oroborus, destined to consume anyone unlucky enough to get caught in its path.
And the first step into that cycle is sacrificing the seven thousand souls the ritual requires. You had hoped after seeing Sebastian in the cell that Astarion would consider the real lives at stake.
“If I help you complete the ritual, it will kill all these people.” You try to reason with the good man you know he is. But the fear has a tight hold on his heart right now and he retorts back immediately.
“These people died years ago, trust me on that. All that’s left are feral spawn, desperate for blood.”
He sounds as though he’s trying to convince himself as much as he is you. “If we release them, how many people will they kill? Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands?”
His voice drops to a whisper, “But if they die and I ascend, I won’t have to rely on the parasite to walk in the sun. I’ll be free – truly completely free.” You catch his gaze again and see the desperation, the desire to be cared for and loved.
“Isn’t that what you want?”
Your eyes squeeze shut, pained by the situation before you.
Of course you want him to be free, and you want him to be able to walk in the sun without worry of dying.
But you don’t want him to loose himself in the process. This isn’t his dream. It’s the hunger for power that gnaws at his insides, fuelled by fear.
“I want you to live a life you’re proud of. You can’t be proud of this.” You speak with every ounce of sincerity and emotion you can muster, trying - desperately, for him to see the truth. Your voice cracks somewhere in it, breaking just as your heart has been.
And by some miracle, it seems you break through.
“You - you’re right.”
You hold his stare.
“I can be better than him.”
He looks down at his tormentor and a twisted grin spreads across his lips.
“But I’m not above enjoying this.”
A pause, and then Astarion grabs the back of Cazador’s head with his free hand, forcefully pulling it back. A flash of light crosses your vision as the dagger is thrust into Cazador’s chest.
Over and over and over again.
Astarion grunts as he stabs repeatedly, not slowing down in pace - if anything, increasing it as Cazador starts to fall to the ground. He is relentless, driving the blade repeatedly into the already destroyed flesh. He starts yelling, out of anger, out of joy, out of pure relief.
With one final stab, he lets out the loudest shout before falling back a few steps.
Exhaustion pulls him down to his knees and he looks over at the broken body of his ' father.'
It starts slowly, with a shuddering of his shoulders, until the sob consumes his entire being and Astarion lets out a cry.
You can see the relief manifest in each cry, given voice by the emotion overwhelming him. It’s hard watching, and even harder restraining yourself from running over to comfort him. But you know he needs to do this on his own right now. The time for solace will come later.
Right now, Astarion just needs to feel. Acknowledging the pain makes it easier to overcome.
He breathes heavily as his spawn siblings are released from the magical confines of the ritual. They drop from where they were hovering in air, surrounded by the red glow that restrained them.
One by one, they approach your group at the center of the dias. You see the scars marring their backs, matching Astarion’s.
The female you met at the inn in Wyrm’s Crossing, Dalyria, is the first to speak. “Is… is it over?” She shakes her head softly in disbelief. “Is he…?”
Astarion pulls himself together to stand and face his siblings. “Yes. He’s gone.”
The other of the two spawn you met previously – Petras you think his name is, sounds concerned. “What does that mean for us?”
You first think of several responses, but quickly realize it really isn’t your place to say anything. These are Astarion’s siblings, their trauma, he needs to be the one to handle it.
“It means you have a choice.” He replies, “You can hide here, living in the shadows like parasites. Or you can be more than what he made us to be.”
“You can choose differently, of course, but the consequences are on your head.” He has a way of being encouraging while also warning them against acting a fool in their new freedom. It’s a different kind of maturity that you’ve never seen from him.
“And… what does it mean for them?” Dalyria looks around at the countless numbers of cages hanging around the vast cavern.
Seven thousand starving vampire spawn. The thought sends a shiver up your spine and a deep sadness in your gut.
Astarion speaks, “Ah. Now that is a question…” He glances down at Cazador’s staff laying forgotten on the ground. It controlled the entire ritual, and likely the cells too. Controlling the staff could mean controlling the fate of the spawn.
No matter how much it scares you, you know the right thing to do is free them. The thought of so many famished vampires being released into the world, your city , is terrifying. But just as you couldn’t let Astarion ascend on the basis of his fears, we can’t let these beings lose their chance at freedom due to the possibility of their violence.
You think back to what Sebastion said. “I just don’t want to die down here.”
“Let’s release them. They deserve the same chance you got.”
Astarion looks back at you and speaks in a soft voice. “You’re right. The poor wretches in the cells are innocent.”
He looks towards the hanging cages. “They shouldn’t have to suffer just because I–” he takes a small pause, struggling to get the next words out, “Lured them here.”
Oh Astarion. You’ll spend the rest of your days convincing him that he isn’t responsible for their being made.
He picks up the staff and slams the bottom against the ground, producing the familiar magical red glow from the bat-like figurine at the top.
A ripple of power shoots out to the cages and cells scattered throughout the cavern. You hear the tell-tale sound of metal latches opening.
The vampire spawn take tentative steps out of their open cages, before starting to move in masses.
“They’ll need someone to lead them.” Astarion addresses his siblings. “Take the tunnels into the Underdark, find somewhere… well, not safe, but less perilous?”
“What?” Petras shakes his head in disbelief. “No, we can’t-”
Astarion cuts him off before he finishes objecting. “Just try to keep them out of trouble.”
Dalyria nods in understanding.
You breathe a sigh of relief as the six spawn leave towards the newly empty cages, no doubt intending on leading them through the exit into the sewers and then on to the Underdark from there.
“I…” Astarion hesitates, but then his words fill with resolution. “I think we’re done here. Let’s go.”
Shadowheart and Gale share a pained look between themselves before turning towards the steps. But you can sense hesitation in your lover, he hasn’t moved.
You speak quietly to your magical companions, “We’ll join you in a moment.”
“Of course.” Gale says as Shadowheart nods, and they continue their ascension back towards the entrance of the dungeon.
Taking small steps towards Astarion while he stands still, slowly looking around the cavern, you place a gentle hand on his arm.
He doesn’t look down at you, but does start to speak.
“That’s it. He’s gone.” You hear the disbelief in his voice and you understand. After everything you’ve heard about Cazador Szarr, it’s hard to believe he’s dead. And you know your perspective can’t even begin to compare with Astarion’s.
“After all these years - these centuries - it’s really over.” At the end of his words, he finally looks up at you. His eyes, which moments ago were full of so many emotions, now only look at you in innocence. He’s experiencing the world all over again, born anew after a lifetime of suffering.
“I’m proud of you.” You grab his hand, holding it in your own. “You did the right thing.”
So easy, would it have been for him to cave to the gluttony for power. It was not a simple feat choosing to live on in the shadows, knowing that he could again walk among the sunrays forever. To give up all the untold power an Ascended Vampire holds. But he did. And despite everything, you feel happiness, knowing this.
His voice shakes. “I’m glad you think so, because I’m not so sure. I just feel-” He looks around for the right word. “Numb.”
He takes your other hand as well, holding on with a gentle squeeze.
“What I’ve lost, what I’ve gained - it’s all so much.” With each word comes a new feeling, another knot that he knows he’ll have to untie.
He looks down suddenly, “And gods, all those spawn. Free in the Underdark.”
Hands slip out of your own as he says, “I need some time, I think, I-” He looks at you and makes an attempt to sound normal, “Just to let it all sink in.”
Despite his efforts, Astarion’s voice starts to stutter, betraying him to reveal the building anxieties he feels. “Let’s just go. This place reeks of death and I want to feel alive again.”
With a nod and a small smile, you turn towards the staircase and your other companions. Your group maintains a numb silence as you make your way out of the castle and back towards Elfsong Tavern and your rooms there.