friend, but it felt as if the Dreamer was there on the bed, embracing her. Tsarra ran her hands through her sweat-slick hair to pull it back from her face, and for a moment she felt Danthra’s hands on her shoulders.
“What in—?” She looked at her teachers with fear and confusion, and they seemed worried as they moved closer.
Laeral said, “We found you unconscious, and the study had been partially destroyed. The lightning bolts that exploded through the room took out a large section of the wall. Khelben, stubborn fool that he can be, wandered out and into a battle despite leaving his brain behind.” Her teasing tone didn’t cover up Laeral’s obvious concern over her husband. She looked to him and laid a gentle hand on his cheek, then she turned her eyes back to Tsarra. “Nothing was left of Danthra, Tsarra. At least physically. You feel her, don’t you?”
Laeral reached over to touch her reassuringly, but Tsarra recoiled from her. The Lady Archmage of Waterdeep sighed after a moment and looked at her husband, who dropped his eyes. She got up and walked away, her hand trailing briefly on Khelben’s shoulder as she passed from the room.
Tsarra had to fight herself. While she had known and loved Laeral Silverhand-Arunsun for more than a dozen years, she kept getting flashes of fear and revulsion when she looked at her.
Tsarra managed to ask her master, “What’s going on?”
Khelben cleared his throat, looking pointedly at her. “Danthra’s body was destroyed, Tsarra, though it had nothing to do with her spell. The magic that did this was far more potent—powerful enough to catch me off-guard. Asto why you feel her presence, she’s not entirely dead—she’s in you
and
me
and
that.” Tsarra followed Khelben’s eyes to the bedside table where the metal belt she had been investigating lay. Khelben continued, “When her body died, her soul splintered among us, and we must find a way to save her without harming her, or us, in the process.”
Tsarra gawped and closed her mouth as she assessed what had happened. She put her hand up to her head and felt something small, cool, and foreign stuck to her forehead. She tried to pull it away, and pain lanced through her skull. Nameless leaped into the air and away from the bed, his howls of pain communicating their mutual discomfort. She even noticed Khelben wince slightly at the same time.
“Leave it be, my dear.” Khelben said, “It’s what keeps us both sane.”
Khelben brought her a small hand mirror, and Tsarra looked at herself. Aside from the haggard look and the disheveled and damp hair, Tsarra looked the same—but something new glinted on her forehead. Centered just above her eyes was an intricate tattoo on her skin with a small green gem affixed at its center.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s all that keeps our minds and souls separate right now, Tsarra.” Khelben sighed. “I adapted an elven
kiira n’vaehlar
on which I had been working. Luckily for both of us, it was nearly complete, but not entirely. When I awoke, I found myself thinking your thoughts and experiencing your past. While I have experience with mind sharing, I had to protect you from what’s in
my
head. The touch of Mystra can be devastating to those not Chosen by her. That gem keeps your soul intact and allows us some measure of privacy from each other’s thoughts. It’s not perfect, given the time I had to enspell it, and the tattoos were necessary to stabilize the magic. They, like the gem, are now yours. Permanently.”
Tsarra fell back against the headboard, her eyes wide. She looked at Khelben in disbelief then laughed nervously as she tried to assimilate the news. “Permanently? I’m asimple observer in a new spell trial, and I end up with my best friend’s soul and the Blackstaff’s memories in my head. Got any other surprises for me beyond facial tattoos?”
The Blackstaff glared at Tsarra. “Don’t take this lightly, apprentice. Magic now binds us
“What in—?” She looked at her teachers with fear and confusion, and they seemed worried as they moved closer.
Laeral said, “We found you unconscious, and the study had been partially destroyed. The lightning bolts that exploded through the room took out a large section of the wall. Khelben, stubborn fool that he can be, wandered out and into a battle despite leaving his brain behind.” Her teasing tone didn’t cover up Laeral’s obvious concern over her husband. She looked to him and laid a gentle hand on his cheek, then she turned her eyes back to Tsarra. “Nothing was left of Danthra, Tsarra. At least physically. You feel her, don’t you?”
Laeral reached over to touch her reassuringly, but Tsarra recoiled from her. The Lady Archmage of Waterdeep sighed after a moment and looked at her husband, who dropped his eyes. She got up and walked away, her hand trailing briefly on Khelben’s shoulder as she passed from the room.
Tsarra had to fight herself. While she had known and loved Laeral Silverhand-Arunsun for more than a dozen years, she kept getting flashes of fear and revulsion when she looked at her.
Tsarra managed to ask her master, “What’s going on?”
Khelben cleared his throat, looking pointedly at her. “Danthra’s body was destroyed, Tsarra, though it had nothing to do with her spell. The magic that did this was far more potent—powerful enough to catch me off-guard. Asto why you feel her presence, she’s not entirely dead—she’s in you
and
me
and
that.” Tsarra followed Khelben’s eyes to the bedside table where the metal belt she had been investigating lay. Khelben continued, “When her body died, her soul splintered among us, and we must find a way to save her without harming her, or us, in the process.”
Tsarra gawped and closed her mouth as she assessed what had happened. She put her hand up to her head and felt something small, cool, and foreign stuck to her forehead. She tried to pull it away, and pain lanced through her skull. Nameless leaped into the air and away from the bed, his howls of pain communicating their mutual discomfort. She even noticed Khelben wince slightly at the same time.
“Leave it be, my dear.” Khelben said, “It’s what keeps us both sane.”
Khelben brought her a small hand mirror, and Tsarra looked at herself. Aside from the haggard look and the disheveled and damp hair, Tsarra looked the same—but something new glinted on her forehead. Centered just above her eyes was an intricate tattoo on her skin with a small green gem affixed at its center.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s all that keeps our minds and souls separate right now, Tsarra.” Khelben sighed. “I adapted an elven
kiira n’vaehlar
on which I had been working. Luckily for both of us, it was nearly complete, but not entirely. When I awoke, I found myself thinking your thoughts and experiencing your past. While I have experience with mind sharing, I had to protect you from what’s in
my
head. The touch of Mystra can be devastating to those not Chosen by her. That gem keeps your soul intact and allows us some measure of privacy from each other’s thoughts. It’s not perfect, given the time I had to enspell it, and the tattoos were necessary to stabilize the magic. They, like the gem, are now yours. Permanently.”
Tsarra fell back against the headboard, her eyes wide. She looked at Khelben in disbelief then laughed nervously as she tried to assimilate the news. “Permanently? I’m asimple observer in a new spell trial, and I end up with my best friend’s soul and the Blackstaff’s memories in my head. Got any other surprises for me beyond facial tattoos?”
The Blackstaff glared at Tsarra. “Don’t take this lightly, apprentice. Magic now binds us
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