Chapter Text
"Tea is clearly superior," Molly says, stretching himself over a log like a cat. It didn't seem fair that he was arguing about the merits of various sorts of caffeinated beverages given he very clearly didn't need them.
Caleb told him as much.
"While I'm glad to hear that you think I'm just full of boundless energy, I can assure you that I find great comfort in the ability to give some plants the heavy workload for an hour or two."
Caleb shakes his head. "It may give you energy but it will not keep you awake. As far as studying goes you might as well be drinking nothing at all if you are going to fall asleep on your notes!"
"Perhaps therein lies the problem, because I have never in my life needed to stay-"
He broke off and jumped to his feet, attention focused on something in the distance, his point forgotten.
"Mollymauk?" Caleb said, getting to his feet. "What is it?"
He had to ask twice, but finally he got an answer.
Mollymauk's eyes narrowed. "Undead."
And then he was gone, running full speed into the temporary marketplace they'd made their camp on the outskirts of.
Caleb had been sitting mostly alone with Mollymauk as they ate dinner, but when he ran off it alerted the rest of the camp.
"I will hold the house," he told Jester and Fjord, "you see what is happening."
Jester nodded vigorously. "We will message if we need you!" then she grabbed Fjord's arm and ran off after Molly.
That left him Nott, Yasha and Beau in case anything went wrong here. Undead. He hoped it was not a horde. It would be very difficult to protect all of these people against that sort of thing.
----
Molly couldn't begin to explain how his powers worked, but he liked to think of them as instinct, and if there was one thing he knew it was that he trusted his instincts. So he followed the cold dread in his gut, he let it guide him. His blood sang in his veins, buzzed in his ears, and he found it hard to concentrate on anything but the persistent tug. He didn’t try. Instead, Molly honed in on the feeling.
It didn’t take long for him to find his quarry.
There weren’t a lot of people still out, it was dark enough that the humans couldn’t see and half elves and gnomes clumped together in small groups.
Even without his sense, the creature stuck out like a thumb that had gotten a sore and also run over by a wagon.
They looked like every other refugee in clothing. They were wearing rags, washed out colors that had probably once been bright and sweet, layered to hide most of their form. But while many of the refugees looked destitute, hollow frames, desperate eyes, children clutched close, and while some of them jumped at sudden noises, or flinched when someone brushed by, most weren't actively trying to hide. And most weren’t alone.
This figure flitted from shadow to shadow, clearly not trusting the dark.
And then he realized what direction they were hurrying in.
He put on a burst of speed, determined to intercept before they could get to the carts. He would not be responsible for another massacre. Not of refugees. Not of children.
They must have noticed him because they muttered and moved their hands and then faded from view.
Molly realized he could still feel them. He sprinted forward and slammed, full body, into where he knew the creature to be and held onto them even as he went careening into a cart, traveling rations scattering over both him and his invisible opponent. He stabbed down and something in him loosened as he saw radiant energy disperse into their invisible form.
And then a mindshattering screech, mingled with the screams of a nearby family, knocked him off his feet.
The creature had disappeared from sight. Molly tried to shout something, to communicate with his teammates, but he couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears. He thought Fjord might be shouting. Maybe. Jester knelt next to a family, two elves and their human child who were clutching their ears and coughing up blood. Her hands glowed with healing energy and, seeing that, Molly picked himself up and ran after the cold knot in his chest. Fjord fell in step behind him.
As soon as they caught sight of the creature, a dark form in a dark knight, Fjord threw an eldritch blast that caused them to stumble. That was enough that Molly could rush up and attack. They spun, faster than expected, and threw up their arm to parry his blow. The hood fell off exposing the creature’s face. They were a drow, young, with spellscars running from the corner of their eyes to their mouth. Molly didn’t hesitate, he plunged his sword into the kid’s unprotected side. They screamed as the white energy crackled through their chest. The temperature plunged as black smoke coalesced around their hands.
The dark energy spun out and enveloped Molly. For a moment, all he could see, feel, breathe, was darkness. It felt like it was sucking the life right out of him. He wondered if this is what Lucien felt when he died.
And then the darkness parted and he could breathe again. Next to him Fjord cut into the drow, and Jester, still guarding the family, whispered furiously into her hands. Molly stood up and growled all of his frustration in Infernal. “The fires of Hell will consume you and leave nothing but an unfeeling husk!”
The drow ducked Fjord’s next swing and then threw another spell, a bolt of lightning that struck Fjord, arced into Molly and then exploded into a stall somewhere behind him. With the smell of smoke and singed flesh rising around him, Molly blacked out.
~~~
Caleb arrived to chaos. There was fire, screaming, and a figure in middle of it all, an arm wrapped protectively around themselves as they made a gesture and a fiery shield spun out from their fingertips.
The damage was too much. Caleb had no doubt that between all of the Mighty Nein they would be able to kill this person, but how many would die in the process? He could see panic in the mage’s every move. Panic led to mistakes. Two crossbow bolts buried themselves in the mage’s chest and shoulder and a giant spectral lollypop knocked them into a destroyed market stall. Mollymauk was on the ground and Fjord was clutching his head and Caleb knew what it meant when the mage raised their hands and frost started to form in crystals in the air.
Caleb knew those sigils. The wind from an Ice Storm alone could turn over the carts. How many people could that injure? Kill? And the hail on top of that? He threw out his arms and he screamed “STOP!” and the air rippled with the force of his hold person.
The drow froze.
“Jester, get to Mollymauk! And you, Mage. Please do not fight, it will be easier for everyone if you cooperate.”
And then, because there were too many factors at play and that mage was a child and he had no idea what would happen next, he said, his voice laced with suggestion, “It would be best for everyone if you did not harm anyone until someone first spills your blood.”
The mage’s eyes glazed over for a moment and Caleb felt the spell hold.
He gave Fjord a potion while Jester took care of Molly and Beau tied the mage up, perhaps a little tighter than was strictly necessary. She knocked them to their knees and Caleb shouted “Do not hurt them or my spell will wear off!” Then he turned to Fjord and, more quietly said, “you are good with people, ja? Can you gather the refugees and tell them that everything is okay? We have the mage in custody and they will not hurt anyone else.”
“Is that somethin’ you can guarantee?”
No.
“Ja.”
Fjord nodded and took a deep gulp of the potion. Caleb believed he could handle things. He went to talk to Beau. She would be harder to convince.
~~~
Molly could still smell smoke when he woke up. Before he had too much chance to freak out, Jester put a hand on his shoulder. “No one died,” she said, “and I saved the day! And Caleb. Probably Caleb should get a little more credit but I did a lot too.”
Molly smiled. “I’m sure you did. Does this mean-”
“It means it is time to investigate! Jester and Nott-”
“Nott and Jester,” Nott yelled from across empty marketplace-
“Are on the case!” they yelled in unison.
Nott ran up, her crossbow still knocked. Molly’s eyes followed the path the bolt would take. They narrowed.
Kneeling in the middle of the destruction, bound with their hands behind their back and Beau standing guard right next to them. Their eyes flicked around, nearly glowing in Caleb’s dancing lights, and their ears swiveled with every sound. As he stood up, all of their attention focused on him. Well, he could work with that.
Molly picked his swords up off the ground and sauntered toward the drow on the ground, swishing his tail as he walked. He grinned, stopping Caleb before the wizard moved to intercept him, and loosely twirled his swords. One finished its arc right under the drow’s chin. They tilted their head up and looked directly into his eyes.
Their hair was long and stringy and There was a chunk of flesh missing from their ear, and this close Molly could see skin flaking from their cheek, not to mention the mess that had been made of their side. He was surprised to see that they bled. He was less surprised to see that they shook when he got too close.
“I don’t like you,” Molly said, putting just a little pressure under their chin, “And if you try anything I will not hesitate to cut your throat, do you understand?”
“I-I will not try anything,” the drow said through a thick accent. “You have an expression in common, my hands are tied.”
Beau snorted. “That’s not quite how that works.”
They gulped, though no breath fogged Molly’s sword.
“Anyway,” she continued, “the binding gets less effective if you hurt them, so be careful with those swords.”
“I always am darling. Nothing will happen unless they make it happen.”
“I am your prisoner,” the drow said, “I lost and now I’m at your mercy. Hurting one of you would be foolish.”
Hurting everyone at once, however, could create just the sort of opportunity a clever combatant needed to escape.
Molly didn’t know a lot about wizards, but he’d seen Caleb in battle and so he knew the destruction a wizard could wreak.
He didn’t move until he heard Fjord (limping, resting most of his weight on Caleb) behind him. Jester and Nott joined soon after.
“You are right.” Caleb said quietly. “You are a prisoner.”
The drow glared at him, some sort of challenge in their eyes.
Caleb was unmoved. “And this is your interrogation.”
The drow fought to keep their expression neutral, but Molly was good at reading people. He saw the widening of their eyes, the tightening of their jaw, the slight droop of their ears, that scared them.
They flinched, nicking their throat on Molly’s blade, as Jester cast zone of truth. Dark blood slowly oozed out of the cut, sticky enough that it colored just the very tip of Molly’s blade.
And then Jester came bouncing up and their expression went from dignified fear to confused horror as she said “okay, let’s begin! First, the most important question. Is there anyone you like?”
Caleb snorted.
“What?” the drow practically squeaked.
“I hardly think that’s the most pressing issue here,” Fjord said.
“My turn!” Nott said, “Why does Molly hate you so much? Have you met before?”
Molly felt his blood turn to ice. That couldn’t be right, right? He hated this drow because they were a danger, not because they knew Lucien, right?
“N-no,” the drow said. “I mean I do not think so. There are some things I do not remember well but I have not seen this… Molly… before. I don’t think.” Their eyes met Molly’s once more, searching. He hoped they found no familiarity there. He was hard to miss. As were they. He did not know this drow.
“What is your mission?” Caleb asked, drawing the drow’s attention like a magnet.
The drow opened their mouth no less than three times and for all his feelings about this dangerous undead mage, Molly had to sympathize. Zone of truth was an awful spell really.
“I am a soldier. My mission is to win the war.”
“The war,” Caleb echoed.
“Give me a reason,” Molly said, “not to kill you here.”
“If your fear is that I will kill your people,” the drow said, “it is more likely to happen if you slit my throat here. My, I do not know this word in your common, my essence I think, is not here, with my body. It is with my commander. If you kill me I will reform there.”
“Does your commander have a beacon?” Caleb leaned in so suddenly that the drow jumped back, startled, and Molly decided to finally put away his sword. He’d sent his message.
The drow shook their head a little, once more entirely entranced by Caleb. That was easy he supposed, especially when the wizard got like this.
“No the beacon is for warriors and nobility. Real warriors not the dregs. We are-” they shook their head, “not them. The Beacons preserve the essence and experiences of the nobility. They live many lifetimes, their essence is never trapped.”
Everyone was quiet for a moment. Each caught in their own thoughts. Molly stepped away from the scene. Whoever this drow was, they didn’t seem to be actively trying to cause harm. And they had a point, it would be foolish to kill them. That didn’t mean he had to like them though.
“What’s your name?” Fjord asked, at the same time Caleb said, “you’re a lich.”
“Shediri,” the drow said. And then, “I am a failed experiment. An attempt to transfer the essence without a beacon. From what I have read this means yes, lich is a good word. I have no essence and this body,” they looked at the mess that was their side, “it knows it. It is falling apart.”
“So you’re sayin,” Fjord said, “that you’re runnin’ away from this commander of yours, but no matter what you do, eventually you’re gonna bite the dust and end up right back where you started.”
Shediri’s ears drooped. “I was hoping to get far enough away to break the connection. The- the normal means of life transference do have a range. It is not impossible that this is true also for my situation.”
“But you don’t think so,” Fjord said, and Molly felt another shiver because he’d seen that look on Fjord’s face before. The Shuster kids. The refugees. Kiri. That twist in his mouth that meant pity and something more, pity and a desire to help.
“I bet my life on it,” Shediri said with a half-hearted shrug. “Whatever that’s worth.”
“Alright,” Beau said, still standing behind them, “so you run from the commander guy, with no plan, no goal, and what, try and hitch a ride on a refugee wagon? Did you think that would work or are you actually some sort of clever spy?”
“Spying is a misuse of my talents,” they said their mouth twisting like they were repeating a familiar phrase. “But I didn’t have a plan. I saw an opportunity. I took it. The commander was distracted by a punishment. I ran.”
“You are a wizard, yes?” Caleb asked, “Studied in the arcane arts?”
“Yes, I have had access to very good books and-”
“And you know how these beacons work?”
Shediri’s expression immediately shuttered. They tried to close their mouth but the zone of truth soon forced it back open. “Yes,” they finally said, blurting it out as if they couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “I have a very good idea.”
And then they started to struggle.
Beau’s hand clamped over their shoulder and held them down and though they continued to buck their shoulders though it was clear to everyone they weren’t going anywhere.
“I cannot- I will not say more.”
Caleb nodded slowly and Molly thought that was it, they’d both go their separate ways and forget this ever happened. And when they came across the next skeleton remains of a burned village they’d say, well, there are a lot of mages in the world and the empire is at war, there’s no tracing that sort of thing.
Except of course there is. And those lives, perhaps not fairly, but truthfully, would rest on more than just the decaying shoulders of the drow in front of him.
Caleb’s eyes flicked to Jester, who had the beacon in her bag of holding. Molly could practically see his mind at work sorting through questions, arguments, threats.
“You need food.” He said. “You need transportation. You need your phylactery. We need information. I think that we can help each other.”
“I am an accomplished scholar. I can answer many questions. But not about the beacons. That is not my information to trade.”
“Ja. I understand. A different question then. You tell us about your commander and these experiments. Is this fair?”
“You will help me get my phylactery?”
“In exchange for your knowledge.”
Shediri nodded slowly. “Okay.”
They looked like a cornered animal. It was clear to everyone that this was their only option.
Molly had been in that position. He had been that animal. The wolf crushed by gleaming metal teeth. And If there’s one thing he knew? Wolves bite.