Episode 12
"Wake up my child." A soft, melodious voice called over the void. Quinn floated in nothingness, eyes closed. He felt like he was falling through an endless night with no stars to light his way. A warm light appeared in the distance and he felt himself moving towards it. He opened his eyes and saw the silhouette of a woman with her arms outstretched to him, welcoming him home.
"Mystra..." He called out, hearing his voice echo in the blackness, "Is that you?" He stretched out his hands as he came closer to the woman. She felt warm and bright as he drifted closer.
"Wake, my child."
"Mystra?" He slowly opened his eyes to the light.
"No, my dear. Not Mystra, but close." A solemn looking elf smiled above him as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight. Her smile was comforting and Quinn felt her supple hand laced with his. Silver locks of hair fell over her face and her eyes held a warm love that caressed his eyes. "I am Laerel Arunsun." She stood up straight and smiled broader as Quinn sat up and surveyed his surroundings. Her blue gown glittered like starlight as it flowed around her slender form.
"You can't mean the Laerel Arunsun? Lady Mage of Waterdeep?" Quinn sounded shocked.
“The one and only." She bowed and Quinn flushed. The Lady Mage of Waterdeep! Bowing to him! Quinn's mouth fell agape. He realized he was no longer in any pain and it seemed energy was returning to him. He remembered, vaguely, what had happened at the keep. One moment Kahn was dragging him up a tower, the next he was falling through mid-air, lastly to end up here. Where ever here was. He glanced up as the sound of flapping reached his ears from the door.
"You're awake!" Squawked the familiar white raven as it perched on the base board. "We thought you a goner. Glad to see we got you here in time."
"We?" Quinn looked at Sizrit puzzled.
"Yes, We." Said a voice from the door again. Yenir was leaning against the doorframe, his blond hair combed back into a pony tail. Another woman Quinn didn't recognize walked in beside him, long curly tresses of silver hair flowed over her shoulders and around her black gowned shape. Her hair was, seemingly enchanted to flow in a ghostly wind of its own. "You caused Sim and I a lot of trouble." He cocked his head towards the woman who was now scowling at him.
"I told you not to call me that!" Silver fire erupted from her eyes and Yenir backed away, panicked. She turned to Quinn with utmost caring on her face. "Pleased to meet you Quinn. I am the Witch Queen of Aglarond. Simbul of the..."
"Seven Sisters!" Quinn interrupted and nearly fell out of bed with excitement. "I've read all the tales written about you! It's an honor to meet you in person." She simply sighed,
"Those chapbooks don't do my battles justice. You would have loved to have seen my power in person." She winked and smiled, Yenir and Sizrit laughed, and Quinn was lost to the joke.
"So where am I?" Quinn looked around the room, puzzled. The sound of a gull drew his attention to the window and the all too familiar sight of the ocean beyond. His eyes widened with realization.
"You are my guest at Blackstaff Tower." Laerel stride over to the window, turning to Quinn with a dancer's grace. "My home."
"Home..." Quinn echoed longingly as the thought set in. He had made it home. Back to Waterdeep.
“Yes. We're home" Sizrit perched on his shoulder. "And there's someone here you need to meet."
"Meet! Haven't I met enough people today? Laerel Arunsun, the Simbul. Who else!? Is Lord Pergeiron going to be showing up? Maybe arm and arm with Khelben himself?"
"Not quite Pergeiron but close enough." A fat man said as he approached the room with an old man with white and black hair carrying a black staff. "I am Mirt and this is Khelben." The broad merchant gestured to the aged wizard leaning on his staff. Quinn was paralyzed in awe at the sight of Waterdeep's archmage standing before him.
"A pleasure." Khelben nodded to Quinn, keeping his face stern and resolved. “My ladies if you please. Yenir, we have work to do. Glad to see you well Quinn." Khelben betrayed a slight smile. "Mirt will take you from here." He nodded to the noble merchant as Laerel wrapped one arm around her husband's waist and nodded to the Simbul and Yenir to follow.
“Where are they going?" Quinn asked, phasing out of his wonder-stricken stare.
"They have things to discuss with Aluthine of Rashemar. It seems we shook things up there enough to merit inquiry from Khelben. Kahn and his crew were part of a much bigger situation that Laerel and the Simbul were investigating. You stumbled into that when you teleported to Rashemar."
"It seems you've angered some pretty powerful enemies." Mirt huffed under his moustache. "I'm going to take you into my protection. Your skills may prove useful to me. Would you like that?"
"Would I ever!" Quinn nearly leapt with excitement. He'd heard of the Old Wolf's involvement in various adventures concerning Waterdeep, not to mention the rumor of Mirt being one of the masked lords that ruled Waterdeep behind the scenes.
“There is a catch." Mirt said in all seriousness.
"Catch? I don't like where this is going." Quinn scowled
“There is the matter of the gem you stole from Triamere Manor. Trevan has contacted me and is willing to have you work off the debt." Quinn looked from Mirt to Sizrit, and then sighed.
“Guess it’s better than torture." He said as the sun set over the horizon. Sizrit only cawed in laughter...
The End
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