Back up to the courthouse, but this time to the back-rooms where records were kept in scrolls and heavy bound books, robed clerks bustling to and fro collecting and filing, each wearing a chain around their necks on which little plates bore their names. Had she the time, Aerie was sure many interesting tidbits could be found here; ordinary people from centuries ago voicing their complaints, tribulations, heartaches. Or maybe it would only be interesting to her, but she planned to move on from this town soon as she found out the identity of her deliverer.
She was shown to one of the rooms, door slamming. She couldn’t see anything except dusty old tomes and boxes stacked on shelves, a slither of sunlight and a shadow at the far end. So she padded around to see who was standing at the window. Her blue eyes shimmered, a heart quickened, a name barely escaping her lips through a sharp intake of breath, “Jaheira?!”
Glowing skin that had weathered many storms, tawny golden-brown hair like a lion’s mane. At least that was how Aerie still saw her. In truth Jaheira’s skin had paled and bore a few wrinkles, her hair grayed some. Still, with the sunlight beaming through the window illuminating motes of dust around her, she looked very pretty.
Aerie’s first instinct was to run up and embrace her, but Jaheira was having none of that, freezing her in place with a brusque flick of the wrist. It wasn’t any kind of magic; just her bearing, demeanor, and those piercing eyes. She was angry, wasn’t she? No, worse than that - she was disappointed.
“It is not what you did to that twit that irks me,” Jaheira began to explain, “it is how you came to be in that situation in the first place.” She left the window, Aerie daring not move or speak as the druid prowled around her like a predator sniffing out its prey. “Interesting perfume. Le Chateau Cormyr, fourteen seventy two, if I am not mistaken.”
She wasn’t. It was quite a talent she had. But, Aerie thought, so what if she had a few drinks? Or a lot of them. She was an adult, wasn’t she? Admittedly at that moment she didn’t really feel like one. She felt like a schoolgirl whose head mistress returned to gaze mournfully out the window.
“A century ago,” Jaheira told her, “I met this strange girl in a circus. A rare creature; a winged elf. Avariel. A nervous, fretful little thing who had never experienced the world beyond those tents, constantly weighed down by the abuse she had suffered. I honestly did not think she would last a tenday traveling with us,” her nostrils rose and fell. “It was one of the very few times in my life that I was wrong. That girl was also determined, and kind, and so brave - she even had the cheek to answer back to me on occasion. And no matter how hard or how low things were, when it came to the fight she put everything else aside and always gave her all to keep her companions safe. And, in the end, I felt privileged to have seen that girl grow from practically a babe into a bold and surefooted woman who retained the best from each of us.”
There were some finer details missing, of course, but broadly speaking that was how it had been. Minsc, Imoen, even Viconia; they all helped and taught her in their own ways. And, although she had never said it, if she had to name who she had most wished she could emulate, it would have been Jaheira. She knew she could never be that strong, but for a long time she tried her best to carry on by herself, fighting evil, helping people, until…
“And,” Jaheira frowned, “it is a pity I do not know where that girl went. All I see is this wastrel who seems determined only to keep punishing herself.”
Aerie tried to tell her, but, it was like there was a door in her mind she couldn’t open. She wouldn’t, no matter how loud the banging and scratching from the other side grew. It wasn’t any kind of magic, but a choice. She had faced liches and dragons and vampires and even gods, but what was there… not here. Not now. She just wasn’t ready for that.
After a moment of pensive silence, Jaheira wearily sighed, “well, if you ever find her, let me know.”
Jaheira made to sweep by Aerie out the door, but only then did they notice shuffling from the far side of the room. A scroll bounced and rolled out from behind one of the shelves, a balding clerk scurrying after it. “Oh, I-I am sorry,” he said, gathering up the scroll with other rolls of paper in his arms, “just need to put these by. Didn’t mean to interrupt this little mother-daughter bonding moment.”
Both women arched their brows, Aerie pursing her lips to stifle a laugh while Jaheira gaped, “we are the same age.”
“Really?” The little man gasped, squinting between them. Were they humans, Aerie would have appeared to be in her twenties, and Jaheira at least a few years her elder. “Oh dear. Oh, I am so terribly sorry. Totally misread that situation. Just, you know, elves, half-elves, everything else; it can all be very confusing. I do apologise.”
Aerie snorted, earning her a fierce glare from Jaheira. “You think this is funny?”
“A,” she made a small gap between her forefinger and thumb, timidly admitting, “a little bit.”
“Well,” Jaheira composed herself, resuming her stride toward the door, “You have ruined my dramatic exit,” she paused by the clerk, one hand lifting the chain around his neck to read, “Tim.” The name rolled around her tongue as if it sounded to her like scum. Little beads of sweat appeared on his forehead as she took his collar, her hazel eyes boring into his skull as her nostrils flared like she was remembering his scent. “Know that you have made a powerful enemy this day.”
“Um,” Tim breathed again after she left, “i-is she… is she serious?”
Aerie shrugged and mumbled, “Idontknow.”
