Chapter Text
Azatel was intrigued when the party returned from the Sharran Grotto. Shadowheart, who had abandoned Sharr and embraced the Moonmaiden once again, confronted her former cloister and took revenge for the life they had forcibly changed forever. Additionally, it seemed she was not the only Selunite taken captive by Sharrans. Upon their return, they met Arnell Hallowleaf, Shadowheart’s father. He was imprisoned by the church of darkness, subjected to forty years of torture, used as a mere tool for the Sharran’s conversion tactics.
However, perhaps even more so than the tale of her restitution, Azatel recognized the bond that Arnell and his daughter had. He might not have been a father by blood, but that didn’t stop him from seeing Rivera as his own. Observing father and daughter reunited after so long, it warmed his heart in a way he never would’ve known otherwise. Even if the circumstances were very different, it reminded him of when he reunited with his adopted son just a couple weeks prior. The refugees he housed spoke of the deeds of Rivera and his friends, and as much as he welled with pride, Azatel couldn’t help but worry too. He knew his son could handle himself, but with this threat of the Absolute and everything happening, he just wanted his son to be here, in front of him, just so he could know he was okay. The day that happened, seeing Rivera after over a year and hugging him, finally having him in his arms, was one of the best days of his life.
Though for Azatel and Rivera it had only ever been the two of them, that wasn’t always the case with the Hallowleaves. Amidst the triumph of Arnell’s rescue, there was a sorrowful notion alongside it; for his wife Emmiline had passed a year prior. Azatel felt for him, to not only be trapped in such a horrible place, but to experience such a profound loss as well must have been devastating.
Of course, Arnell and his daughter were given their space. There was much to talk about, and they would need time to process their emotions and grieve. Late into the evening, the two remained in their room at the Elfsong. Azatel didn’t eavesdrop, but he did sit with a book some way down the hall. The last thing he wanted was to overwhelm Arnell, and was intent on not overstepping any boundaries. However, he did keep an eye out should he leave the room. Not to immediately approach him, but just to see if there was any opportunity for conversation with him. He wanted to provide comfort and support, but Azatel couldn't deny he was genuinely curious about the elf. Whether it was because he was a fellow father, or simply from his newfound presence, something drew him to Arnell.
Then, said opportunity presented itself. Azatel perked up slightly as he heard the creak of the door opening. Arnell emerged from the door, and from the corner of his eye Azatel watched as he made his way to the balcony. Azatel closed his book a bit louder than he intended, but Arnell didn’t seem to hear as he sat on one of the outdoor chairs. His tail flicked as he stood up, reminding himself to not come on too strongly.
He approached the doorway to the balcony, but didn’t walk through immediately. Just for a few moments, he studied Arnell as he stared at the view of Baldur’s Gate below. Decades of pain and loss weighed heavy in his eyes, yet Azatel could detect glints of hope in his gaze.
Clearing his throat, Azatel took a single step forward. “Arnell?”
Arnell looked at him with surprise, but not with hostility. “Azatel! I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Ah- yes, well… I do know that you’ve been through a lot today, and if you would rather just sit by yourself tonight, I completely understand that.” He scratched the side of his neck. “But… If you don’t mind, I was wondering if I could sit and chat with you for a little while? Only if you’re up for it, of course.”
“I appreciate your concern, but I would enjoy a chat, actually.” Arnell’s words were warm with sincerity.
“I’m glad to hear.” Azatel said as he took the seat next to him.
He didn’t talk right away. He allowed to settle in the quiet ambiance, again not wanting to come on too eagerly. He was aware of how overwhelming this must be, and first and foremost, wanted to provide solace.
“Listen, I… I am truly sorry to hear of your wife.”
Arnell nodded solemnly. “Thank you. I knew that humans aged rapidly, that there would come a day where she would be with me no longer. I only wish it wasn’t in such a cursed place.”
“Indeed. She deserved better. But for what it's worth, I’m glad it was you she had by her side.”
Eyes meeting his own, Arnell took his words to heart. “I appreciate that, friend.”
This took Azatel a bit by surprise. “Calling me a friend when we’ve only just met?”
“Well, I don’t see why not. If nothing else, to take after our children, perhaps.”
Azatel chuckled. “I see your point. Rivera was very lucky to find your Shadowheart, from what I hear she’s been a vital member of their party. Even just from my few interactions with her, I can tell she’s a wonderful young woman.”
Arnell smiled wistfully. “I was only truly her father for a short time, but I’m glad nonetheless she’s grown into the person she is now, along with meeting Rivera and the rest. Likewise, your son seems to be a fine young man. You’ve raised him well.” Then, a question occurred to him. “Though, pardon my curiosity, I’ve noticed Rivera doesn’t call you ‘father’. Is there a reason for that?”
“Heh, you’re far from the first to ask that. If our skin hasn’t already given it away, I adopted Rivera- not in the traditional sense, but… He needed me.”
“I see. Were his parents not able to take care of him?”
“I assume so, but the thing is, I never met them. It's all a rather long story.” Azatel shrugged.
“Do tell, you have me intrigued.” Arnell leaned forward slightly.
“Well…” Azatel clasped his hands together. “In my youth, I was part of a mage’s guild in Scornubel. I was part of a team with my best friends Kindroth and Lexel, protecting the town from invaders and assisting with problems wherever we could. In the whirlwind of our younger days, when adventure was new and exciting, we felt like we were on top of the world, like we were invincible. But, while we were on one particular mission, Kindroth was struck by a powerful curse, and…” Azatel sighed as the event replayed in his mind. “He didn’t make it.”
“Azatel… I’m so sorry.” Arnell said.
Azatel simply nodded, silent sympathy in his eyes. “That day, I didn’t just lose my best friend- I lost everything. Lexel blamed his death on me, and the council believed him. I was banished from the guild, and was shunned by the town.”
“Gods, that’s terrible. What an evil thing to do to someone you consider a friend.” Arnell shook his head.
“Mm. I was no longer welcome in Scornubel, so I left. I ended up in Elturel with a backpack of whatever I could grab and a handful of gold. Those first few days were rough, to say the least.” He looked to the side.
“I can only imagine. Needless to say, that must have been a very hard time in your life.”
“Well, eventually I caught a lucky break. I might’ve been shunned from the guild, but that didn’t mean I lost my magic. I befriended some of the fellow urchins and we made a deal. I would keep them safe using my magic, and in turn we would all help each other where we could. I’d do my best to help them get back on their feet, all the while I tried to do the same myself. We became something of a little community over time.”
“An experience like that would make any soul bitter. The fact that you continued to help others despite what you went through shows solid character. I admire that.”
“Thank you Arnell. Though really, I could say the same about you. I know what it feels like when all odds seem stacked against you. But if I’ve learned anything over the years, it is that we can rise from even the greatest tragedy, if we allow ourselves to be helped from the ashes.”
Arnell propped his jaw against his knuckle thoughtfully. “Very well said.”
“And… Looking back, I thank the gods I was able to build my life up again, if not for my sake, then for Rivera’s. You see, I found the poor child when he was no more than four. He was wandering around alone, and said his mother had not returned for days.”
“My. Did you ever find out what happened to her?”
“Unfortunately, no. No clues were in the house, and Rivera was too young to remember anything important. In any case, I opted to look after him myself.”
Arnell’s eyebrows raised. “I didn’t know you were in such a situation when Rivera came into your life. Very few would have taken responsibility for him in that state. That’s no meager feat.”
Azatel regarded the praise warmly. “It certainly wasn’t always easy. But as long as we had each other, we got through in the end. When I could, I schooled him in what I thought would be valuable in life. I’m no trained teacher, but I wanted to provide some sort of foundation for him. The subject he was always most interested in was magic.”
Azatel flicked his hand, sparks jumping from his fingers.
“Ah, you’re a sorcerer? Storm magic, I presume?” Arnell stated.
“That’s right. I could tell Rivera wanted to be a spellcaster like me, but, bless him, that boy was not cut out to be a wizard.” He chuckled lightly.
“Not all can be as studious as that Gale fellow.” Arnell jested. “Still, I can see how he must’ve found magic fascinating. How did he end up becoming a warlock?”
At this, Azatel’s face fell slightly. “He first started researching warlock pacts and the like when he was a teenager. He brought it up to me once, and I told him I didn’t like the idea. I know these pacts aren’t inherently evil, but I didn’t want him getting involved with something he couldn’t back out of.”
“That’s understandable. You want the best for your children, to always be able to protect them. But when they come of age, all you can do is hope you’ve prepared them enough for the real world, as that’s where they’re headed whether we want them to or not.”
“Exactly. And I suppose I had to accept that anyway, as when Rivera became an adult, I moved to Baldur’s Gate.”
“Right. What made you move to Baldur’s Gate?”
“Well, I had some friends who lived here, and one day they told me about a plan they had. They were going to build a safe house in Rivington, a place where people who had nowhere else to go could find refuge. I offered Rivera to join me, but he said he wanted to stay in Elturel, at least for the time being. He was doing well for himself, and I understood he was an adult and deserved his space. I’ll admit it was hard leaving the city that had been my home for over twenty years, not to mention my son, all grown up and ready for the world. Looking back at it now though, it was really for the best. It took quite a bit of time, effort, and arguing with the government and their policies, we finally built the safe house.”
“If I may, I find it quite poetic that you started as an urchin yourself, only to help those who are in crisis you were once in yourself.” Arnell commented.
“I suppose that’s true. Given everything that’s happened, I’m glad one way or another we got it completed. We’ve provided asylum for many of the refugees from Elturel, and I hate to think of what would happen to them otherwise.”
Arnell tilted his head. “Refugees? What do you mean?”
Azatel was confused at first, before he realized this man had not been in contact with the outside world for decades. It made sense he didn’t know.
“Oh- well, I’m not entirely sure of the details, but some months ago, Elturel was plunged into Avernus following some political spat, I believe.”
Arnell’s eyes widened in shock. “Really? Gods, what in the world could have prompted such a fate?”
“As I said, I don’t know much about why it happened in the first place. All I knew was it was a dark time for me; though I couldn’t imagine what it was like for Rivera.”
Horror spread on Arnell’s face. “Wait- Rivera was in the city when it descended?”
“Yes. To my understanding it all happened rapidly, so there was no time to evacuate. I haven’t properly spoken about it with him, and I’ve heard various stories from different refugees about what they’ve seen. All I know is that by the time the city returned to the surface, Rivera had vanished.
“So what happened to him?”
“Apparently he was abducted by a ‘nautiloid’, or whatever they’re called. Airships of the Absolute.”
For the first time, Azatel saw Arnell with an expression of anger. Quiet, but furious. “Ah, you mean the people that have allied with the Sharrans? The ones that infected our children with those horrible parasites?”
“Correct. The refugees have also told me how our kids and their friends have slain one of the Absolute’s leaders, and from what I’ve been told, they aim to finish the job.”
The two men sat in silence for a while. Uncertainty and contemplation weighed on both their minds. Even if they didn’t host tadpoles like their children, they could sense the mutual feeling.
“Rivera can make his own decisions. Even if I shudder at the thought of what he might encounter, I know I can’t stop him from pressing on, from taking on the Absolute.” His voice wavered as he became slightly more emotional. “I just want him to always know that he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and that I love him more than I could ever describe.”
“I feel the exact same way about Shadowheart. Part of me wishes to keep her from all this, to prevent us from ever being separated again. However, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Shadowheart and Rivera both have their hearts set on this, and now it's up to us to support them.”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Azatel looked into the distance, somber in his voice. “It almost feels strange to think about it all. Before Elturel, I never thought much about having kids. I was more caught up in being a boyish flirt.” He said rather sheepishly. “Yet, as the years went on and Rivera grew older, thinking of him as my son just felt so natural. Though, back then I would have called him something different.“
Arnell smiled a bit, giving a knowing look. “Change is part of life, and it's no different with children. Whether we want them to take one direction or another, ultimately loving your child through any changes in life, great or small, is the truest act of love a parent can give.”
“Much agreed, friend.” Beyond the warmth of admiration, Azatel’s voice lowered slightly. “Arnell… I know I must seem quite young in comparison to you. Hells, I must’ve been around thirteen when your daughter was born. But, I feel like I’ve lived several lifetimes, everywhere I’ve been, everything I am and have been, everything I’ve seen.
“I may be your senior by a vast margin Azatel, but I see that as no reason to look down upon you. When you only live so long, I can understand why the years would seem more meaningful. In fact, as natural as it may be to tieflings, I find it greatly impressive that you were able to provide for Rivera at such a young age- of course, from my perspective.”
“Well, I consider that high praise. I can’t predict the future, whether or not we’re all even going to get out of this mess at all. But if we do, I just… I want Rivera to be alright in the world. To be the best version of himself, and to be happy, you know? By some miracle he was given a second chance at life, and it's up to him whether he makes something of it, whatever that may be. And I know he’s got it in him.”
Suddenly, Arnell moved to place his hand on Azatel’s forearm, causing the tiefling to freeze up. “You’re a good man, Azatel. I can tell Rivera is lucky to have a father like you in his life.”
“Oh, well- thank you. A-And same to you, of course.”
Just as Arnell drew his hand back, the two men felt a spark from Azatel’s skin. Arnell audibly winced as his hand jolted backwards.
“Oh- Oh my gods! I am so sorry, I swear I didn’t mean that.” Azatel said frantically. “It’s, er, a side effect of my magic, you see. I’m constantly prone to static shocks.”
Arnell shook his hand a couple times as he chuckled. “It’s quite alright, it was just a little spark.” He then noticed something above Azatel’s head, pointing with a smirk. “And is that a side effect, too?”
Oh gods not the hair thing. Why now, of all times, the hair thing . Azatel practically felt his tail in his mouth as he realized his shaggy hair was raised slightly.
“Um- yes, well, electricity magic comes with all the perks of being a walking lightning rod.” He said as he awkwardly tried to smooth his hair.
“As I can see.”
Despite his embarrassment, Azatel was genuinely glad to see a smile on his face. His mind raced for something else to say, when Arnell spoke.
“I must say, I’ve quite enjoyed this. You’re very easy to talk to, and your company truly means a lot to me.” He sighed, weariness evident in his frame. “But, I feel I must rest for the evening. I'm far from the strength I once had, I'm afraid.”
“Of course! Of course, gods know you need it.”
With a last smile, Arnell rose from his seat. “Thank you, friend. Rest well.”
Azatel’s gaze lingered on the Elf as he made his leave. After remembering how to control his body once again, he shot out of his own chair. “A-And for what it's worth, Arnell, I really enjoyed talking to you as well.”
Arnell nodded, eyes overcast with weariness and gratuity. “I’m glad.”
Azatel returned the comforting expression before Arnell turned to the hallway. It took him a few seconds to flop back down onto the chair, sighing as the conversation he just had replayed in his mind. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a heart-to-heart with someone like this, even amidst the threat looming over Faerun. It comforted him that there was still humanity to be found in the world, however scarce it may be.
Though, he realized, in an odd way, he never would have met Arnell if not for everything that happened. Rivera never would have met Shadowheart and the rest, and never would have dismantled the Sharran Grotto. Arnell never would have been freed.
A funny twist of fate, Azatel chuckled to himself. If one thing was certain, he had no idea what the future would hold for any of them. And perhaps, just maybe, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.