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"The flowers are coming along nicely."

It was an awkward start, but she needed to begin this conversation somewhere. After all, she hadn't spent a day traveling for nothing.

"Thank you." Her companion's cherry red lips drew into a warm smile. "They'll bloom any day now. I'm hoping to send some to Ili. I think she would like them. You know, my baby girl is visiting her tomorrow. Maybe I can send some with her, if they're ready."

"I think Ili would like that. Just don't send the roses. She's allergic."

"I remember." The woman chuckled, taking her clippers and trimming back a few stray weeds. "I remember when we were just children, I had managed to buy some rose seeds from the nearby merchant. A few spells and some good soil, and I managed to grow roses. In the Underdark of all places! I was so excited that I plucked the first one right out of the ground and shoved it in our mother's face. She broke into hives almost immediately."

"No doubt she was pleased."

"Oh, she was furious." The woman chuckled, pushing her hat back, hoping that its shade would lend itself to her back, and prevent her pale neck from turning a scorching red. "She tried not to be, since I was so proud of myself for what I had done, but I could tell…she was quite frustrated for the next few hours."

Smiling still, she commented, "At least now I can grow whatever I want, without fear of consequence. It's one of the benefits to living on the surface, I've found."

"You know, I still just don't understand why you've settled here."

She looked around at her sister's home, eyeing the various orange trees and berry bushes that made up the garden, sunlight bleaching their leaves a bright, vibrant green. It was so different from the cold, grey slabs of stone that made up the city of Athkatla, her own residence. This little home outside of Trademeet was peaceful, a wonderful place to raise a little family. Why in the hell her sister wanted such things, she'd never know.

"I've always wanted to get out of the Underdark, Sari." Alexandra remarked, gently preening the nearby rosebush, her knees stained brown from kneeling in the dirt.

"So have I. But there's still a world of difference between Athkatla and Trademeet."

"I also know that I don't want a life of adventure." A little sigh escaped her as she turned around, flame-red hair mussed from sweat and hard work, and falling obnoxiously into her eyes. "Think about it…you're doing…whatever it is you do, Diana's planning to be a tomb raider when she grows up, and Kara and Varra are both in the Harpers."

A little chuckle left her lips. "Someone needs to do something normal, just to balance things out."

"I suppose." Sari sighed, shaking her head at the peaceful surroundings. "I would lose my mind in a place like this."

"That's because you have no idea what to do with yourself when you're not working."

"And how long do you suppose you'll be able to play house with Cam?" The avariel elf remarked sharply to her mostly human foster sister. "There are rumors swimming all through Amn, Alexandra. They say that the Iron Crisis was started by a Bhaalspawn. That the war between us and Baldur's Gate was provoked by a Bhaalspawn. That the explosion in the Promenade was caused by—just guess—a bhaalspawn."

"And I've heard that the crisis was also averted by a Bhaalspawn. Two of them, in fact." Alexandra's lime green eyes were cool as they met her sister's metallic gaze. "I'd say that balances things out a bit."

"Not for the extremists." Sari shook her head. "Do you realize who's getting involved? The Harpers, Alexandra. Once they start to meddle, you know that--"

"I know that their most important creed is for all creatures to live their lives with freedom." Alexandra interrupted coldly. "What do I have to fear?"

"Everything!" Sari suddenly burst out, her face stretched with anger. "Come on, Alexandra! Do you really think that they won't hunt you? That they won't come after you, and your husband, and your baby girl? Think of Alex! Do you want her to be hunted?!"

"I want her to grow up like a normal child!" She snapped. "Don't get me wrong—if something happens to me or Cam, then she's living with Ili. But do you remember what our childhood was like? All the plots, the death, the tension? The constant fear that once Ili was gone, our deaths wouldn't be far behind? I want Alex to have a normal childhood, Sari. An assassin's complex is no place to raise a child, and neither is the open road."

Shaking her head, she continued, "It's different for me, Sari. You've chosen to kill slavers, and live the life of a vigilante. Your avariel blood doesn't compel you to do so, any more than Kara's celestial, Varra's Kara-turan, or Diana's wood elf. My blood speaks to me. It wants me to kill, Sari. To wade in blood, as you do. I still have some choice in the matter. I choose not to kill, but the temptation is always there. I will not live a life that I do not want simply to satisfy some sick, primal urge. This is the life I want. A normal one. A peaceful one. One where I watch my flowers bloom every season. One where I fall asleep with a book in my hand, rather than a knife. One where my biggest worries are what to make for dinner, and how many cookies I should bake for Alex's class. One where I get to watch my daughter grow into adulthood, and die peacefully in my sleep, with my husband at my bedside."

Alexandra sighed, her red brows furrowing with worry. "Is that too much to ask?"

"Fine. At the very least, I hope you live to regret your words." Sari shook her head. "At the very least, look out for a man named, 'Galvarey'. He's the poster boy for the extremists."

Before Alexandra could reply, she smiled, watching a familiar Halfling man approach the yard, a little girl with tan skin and black hair walking beside him.

"Hey, baby girl." She greeted as her daughter ran up, swinging her into a warm embrace. "How was school?"

"Good. I played tag at recess today. And I had a good nap." Alex informed her mother, before making a face at the mud that splattered the front of Alexandra's blouse. "Mama, why do you get mad at me for getting dirty when you do it too?"

"Because I don't run outside to play in the mud immediately after a bath." She replied with a roll of her eyes, smiling over to her husband. "What took you both so long?"

"Mr. Tabrith was having a sale down at the bakery. We couldn't just pass by without getting a sweet roll." Cam chuckled, tilting his head to press a kiss to his daughter's cheek, then to receive one from his taller wife. "How have you been, sweetheart?"

"Oh, I'm good. Sari and I were just talking. Alex, say hi to your--" Alexandra turned, seeing that Sari had flown away only seconds before. "—aunt."

Shaking her head, she remarked, "I wish she would stop doing that."

"Don't press your luck." Cam laughed, before looking over to the nearby berry bush. "How long until they ripen?"

"Can we make blueberry pie once they do, Mama?" Alex asked, her green eyes wide and hopeful.

"Oh, two or three days now, I would guess." Alexandra chuckled. "And then we can have pie, yes."

It would take another four days for the berries to turn ripe. They were fresh, juicy, and delicious, but Alexandra would never get the opportunity to taste them.

At the dawn of the fourth day, two figures approached the small home, frowning at the scene. The birdhouse was empty, hungry birds chirping indignantly at the lack of seed. The porch had not been swept, and leaves darted across the wooden floor.

The door swung open with a nasty screech, two women stepping inside. The taller of the two had swept back her coal-black hair into a strict braid, pushing it behind her shoulder with a dark, slim hand. Her silver eyes met her companion's blue, and she asked, "What happened here?"

"Nothing good, that's for sure." Her companion was working to keep the nerves out of her voice, fiddling with her own blonde hair with several tan fingers, walking carefully, so that her white, angelic wings would not brush against any possible clues.

"We should head to the town after this." The calmer, darker one remarked. "If Alexandra isn't here, then she'll be in town."

"In town for two days straight?" The celestial shook her head. "Varra, I don't think that's the case at all. Come on…you know Alexandra. She would send three wisps a day, just to check up on Alex, if she could."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with being optimistic." Varra sighed. "Kara, we need to be careful about this. If Ili thinks that Alexandra was kidnapped--"

"She'll go ballistic on a level that would make Hoar giggle like a schoolgirl. I know." Kara sighed. "If something has happened…gods…I just *hope* it's a kidnapping."

They would not have to wait long for an answer. The moment they stepped into the living room, they caught sight of two bodies.

Had they not dealt with dead bodies on a regular basis, they certainly would have screamed at the sight. Even after years of coming upon mangled corpses, damaged beyond repair and recognition, they still found themselves fighting the urge to vomit. They had prepared themselves, of course. They knew they could very well find something awful. They had steeled themselves against the possible horrors of the situation. But this…this was so very different from the murders they investigated. This was so very personal.

One body was nearby unrecognizable, smashed against the wall and tangled into some painful, inconceivable position. Bits of flame-colored hair decorated what was left of her skull, and two daggers rested in her closed fists. Alexandra knew how to fight. Ili had taught her to slash, stab, and block with those knives. But those weapons were useless against mage fire, judging by the thick, harsh burns that had charred her skin black.

Cam, for his part, was lying in front of his wife, his arms held up to shield her. He was a small man, barely more than four feet tall. But he had a heart as big as a wine barrel. Or, at least he used to, judging by the hole where his chest used to be.

"Gods." Kara whispered, her knees wobbling, and tears running down her cheeks. "Oh gods, Alexandra!"

She whipped around to face her sister, her heart thrashing so hard in her chest, she believed it would break through her ribs. "Who did this?! I'll kill them! I'll hunt them down, and I'll--"

"You'll do nothing." Varra replied, her own eyes glassy, and her voice wavering, despite the years of monastery discipline in her system. "We will report back to Ili, as requested. We will tell her what we found, and we will…we will bring back the bodies as well. We…we need to have a funeral."

Tears began to stream down her face. "Poor little Alex. She…she's only five years old…who…who could do such a thing?"

The sisters were silent for a moment. Kara reached forward, to give her living sister a hug, which was quickly returned. They were silent, dampening each others' shoulders with heavy tears, and all the while wondering who would do such a thing. Alexandra was kind. She was patient (Usually). She did no harm to anyone, and simply wanted to live a peaceful life. Who would take such a thing from her?

"We need to get started." Varra finally choked out, ever reasonable. "We'll be of no use to anyone if…if whomever did this returns."

"I hope they do." Kara sniffed, dashing aside tears. "I'll choke them with my sling if I run out of bullets before they're dead."

The family would mourn, of course. They would cry over their loss, and little Alex would be sheltered by the loving arms of her aunts. But her foster grandmother would not let such a thing rest. She was a vicious woman when crossed, and it was not long until she learned who had done such a thing to her daughter.

The culprit was sitting at his desk in the Harper compound when he received a package. Eager to explore its contents, he unwrapped the large present, and gasped at the contents.

The torn bodies of five different harpers, all tossed inside the crate, cut to pieces with the same precise, methodical slices of a talented butcher. Maggots were beginning to peek from their orifices, but in their skin was a simple message, cut with the same knife that had ended their lives.

His lips trembling, the man ushered out the message aloud, as if saying the words would somehow make this image less real.

"You're next, Galvarey."
---

Description
"The flowers are coming along nicely."

It was an awkward start, but she needed to begin this conversation somewhere. After all, she hadn't spent a day traveling for nothing.

"Thank you." Her companion's cherry red lips drew into a warm smile. "They'll bloom any day now. I'm hoping to send some to Ili. I think she would like them. You know, my baby girl is visiting her tomorrow. Maybe I can send some with her, if they're ready."

"I think Ili would like that. Just don't send the roses. She's allergic."

"I remember." The woman chuckled, taking her clippers and trimming back a few stray weeds. "I remember when we were just children, I had managed to buy some rose seeds from the nearby merchant. A few spells and some good soil, and I managed to grow roses. In the Underdark of all places! I was so excited that I plucked the first one right out of the ground and shoved it in our mother's face. She broke into hives almost immediately."

"No doubt she was pleased."

"Oh, she was furious." The woman chuckled, pushing her hat back, hoping that its shade would lend itself to her back, and prevent her pale neck from turning a scorching red. "She tried not to be, since I was so proud of myself for what I had done, but I could tell…she was quite frustrated for the next few hours."

Smiling still, she commented, "At least now I can grow whatever I want, without fear of consequence. It's one of the benefits to living on the surface, I've found."

"You know, I still just don't understand why you've settled here."

She looked around at her sister's home, eyeing the various orange trees and berry bushes that made up the garden, sunlight bleaching their leaves a bright, vibrant green. It was so different from the cold, grey slabs of stone that made up the city of Athkatla, her own residence. This little home outside of Trademeet was peaceful, a wonderful place to raise a little family. Why in the hell her sister wanted such things, she'd never know.

"I've always wanted to get out of the Underdark, Sari." Alexandra remarked, gently preening the nearby rosebush, her knees stained brown from kneeling in the dirt.

"So have I. But there's still a world of difference between Athkatla and Trademeet."

"I also know that I don't want a life of adventure." A little sigh escaped her as she turned around, flame-red hair mussed from sweat and hard work, and falling obnoxiously into her eyes. "Think about it…you're doing…whatever it is you do, Diana's planning to be a tomb raider when she grows up, and Kara and Varra are both in the Harpers."

A little chuckle left her lips. "Someone needs to do something normal, just to balance things out."

"I suppose." Sari sighed, shaking her head at the peaceful surroundings. "I would lose my mind in a place like this."

"That's because you have no idea what to do with yourself when you're not working."

"And how long do you suppose you'll be able to play house with Cam?" The avariel elf remarked sharply to her mostly human foster sister. "There are rumors swimming all through Amn, Alexandra. They say that the Iron Crisis was started by a Bhaalspawn. That the war between us and Baldur's Gate was provoked by a Bhaalspawn. That the explosion in the Promenade was caused by—just guess—a bhaalspawn."

"And I've heard that the crisis was also averted by a Bhaalspawn. Two of them, in fact." Alexandra's lime green eyes were cool as they met her sister's metallic gaze. "I'd say that balances things out a bit."

"Not for the extremists." Sari shook her head. "Do you realize who's getting involved? The Harpers, Alexandra. Once they start to meddle, you know that--"

"I know that their most important creed is for all creatures to live their lives with freedom." Alexandra interrupted coldly. "What do I have to fear?"

"Everything!" Sari suddenly burst out, her face stretched with anger. "Come on, Alexandra! Do you really think that they won't hunt you? That they won't come after you, and your husband, and your baby girl? Think of Alex! Do you want her to be hunted?!"

"I want her to grow up like a normal child!" She snapped. "Don't get me wrong—if something happens to me or Cam, then she's living with Ili. But do you remember what our childhood was like? All the plots, the death, the tension? The constant fear that once Ili was gone, our deaths wouldn't be far behind? I want Alex to have a normal childhood, Sari. An assassin's complex is no place to raise a child, and neither is the open road."

Shaking her head, she continued, "It's different for me, Sari. You've chosen to kill slavers, and live the life of a vigilante. Your avariel blood doesn't compel you to do so, any more than Kara's celestial, Varra's Kara-turan, or Diana's wood elf. My blood speaks to me. It wants me to kill, Sari. To wade in blood, as you do. I still have some choice in the matter. I choose not to kill, but the temptation is always there. I will not live a life that I do not want simply to satisfy some sick, primal urge. This is the life I want. A normal one. A peaceful one. One where I watch my flowers bloom every season. One where I fall asleep with a book in my hand, rather than a knife. One where my biggest worries are what to make for dinner, and how many cookies I should bake for Alex's class. One where I get to watch my daughter grow into adulthood, and die peacefully in my sleep, with my husband at my bedside."

Alexandra sighed, her red brows furrowing with worry. "Is that too much to ask?"

"Fine. At the very least, I hope you live to regret your words." Sari shook her head. "At the very least, look out for a man named, 'Galvarey'. He's the poster boy for the extremists."

Before Alexandra could reply, she smiled, watching a familiar Halfling man approach the yard, a little girl with tan skin and black hair walking beside him.

"Hey, baby girl." She greeted as her daughter ran up, swinging her into a warm embrace. "How was school?"

"Good. I played tag at recess today. And I had a good nap." Alex informed her mother, before making a face at the mud that splattered the front of Alexandra's blouse. "Mama, why do you get mad at me for getting dirty when you do it too?"

"Because I don't run outside to play in the mud immediately after a bath." She replied with a roll of her eyes, smiling over to her husband. "What took you both so long?"

"Mr. Tabrith was having a sale down at the bakery. We couldn't just pass by without getting a sweet roll." Cam chuckled, tilting his head to press a kiss to his daughter's cheek, then to receive one from his taller wife. "How have you been, sweetheart?"

"Oh, I'm good. Sari and I were just talking. Alex, say hi to your--" Alexandra turned, seeing that Sari had flown away only seconds before. "—aunt."

Shaking her head, she remarked, "I wish she would stop doing that."

"Don't press your luck." Cam laughed, before looking over to the nearby berry bush. "How long until they ripen?"

"Can we make blueberry pie once they do, Mama?" Alex asked, her green eyes wide and hopeful.

"Oh, two or three days now, I would guess." Alexandra chuckled. "And then we can have pie, yes."

It would take another four days for the berries to turn ripe. They were fresh, juicy, and delicious, but Alexandra would never get the opportunity to taste them.

At the dawn of the fourth day, two figures approached the small home, frowning at the scene. The birdhouse was empty, hungry birds chirping indignantly at the lack of seed. The porch had not been swept, and leaves darted across the wooden floor.

The door swung open with a nasty screech, two women stepping inside. The taller of the two had swept back her coal-black hair into a strict braid, pushing it behind her shoulder with a dark, slim hand. Her silver eyes met her companion's blue, and she asked, "What happened here?"

"Nothing good, that's for sure." Her companion was working to keep the nerves out of her voice, fiddling with her own blonde hair with several tan fingers, walking carefully, so that her white, angelic wings would not brush against any possible clues.

"We should head to the town after this." The calmer, darker one remarked. "If Alexandra isn't here, then she'll be in town."

"In town for two days straight?" The celestial shook her head. "Varra, I don't think that's the case at all. Come on…you know Alexandra. She would send three wisps a day, just to check up on Alex, if she could."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with being optimistic." Varra sighed. "Kara, we need to be careful about this. If Ili thinks that Alexandra was kidnapped--"

"She'll go ballistic on a level that would make Hoar giggle like a schoolgirl. I know." Kara sighed. "If something has happened…gods…I just *hope* it's a kidnapping."

They would not have to wait long for an answer. The moment they stepped into the living room, they caught sight of two bodies.

Had they not dealt with dead bodies on a regular basis, they certainly would have screamed at the sight. Even after years of coming upon mangled corpses, damaged beyond repair and recognition, they still found themselves fighting the urge to vomit. They had prepared themselves, of course. They knew they could very well find something awful. They had steeled themselves against the possible horrors of the situation. But this…this was so very different from the murders they investigated. This was so very personal.

One body was nearby unrecognizable, smashed against the wall and tangled into some painful, inconceivable position. Bits of flame-colored hair decorated what was left of her skull, and two daggers rested in her closed fists. Alexandra knew how to fight. Ili had taught her to slash, stab, and block with those knives. But those weapons were useless against mage fire, judging by the thick, harsh burns that had charred her skin black.

Cam, for his part, was lying in front of his wife, his arms held up to shield her. He was a small man, barely more than four feet tall. But he had a heart as big as a wine barrel. Or, at least he used to, judging by the hole where his chest used to be.

"Gods." Kara whispered, her knees wobbling, and tears running down her cheeks. "Oh gods, Alexandra!"

She whipped around to face her sister, her heart thrashing so hard in her chest, she believed it would break through her ribs. "Who did this?! I'll kill them! I'll hunt them down, and I'll--"

"You'll do nothing." Varra replied, her own eyes glassy, and her voice wavering, despite the years of monastery discipline in her system. "We will report back to Ili, as requested. We will tell her what we found, and we will…we will bring back the bodies as well. We…we need to have a funeral."

Tears began to stream down her face. "Poor little Alex. She…she's only five years old…who…who could do such a thing?"

The sisters were silent for a moment. Kara reached forward, to give her living sister a hug, which was quickly returned. They were silent, dampening each others' shoulders with heavy tears, and all the while wondering who would do such a thing. Alexandra was kind. She was patient (Usually). She did no harm to anyone, and simply wanted to live a peaceful life. Who would take such a thing from her?

"We need to get started." Varra finally choked out, ever reasonable. "We'll be of no use to anyone if…if whomever did this returns."

"I hope they do." Kara sniffed, dashing aside tears. "I'll choke them with my sling if I run out of bullets before they're dead."

The family would mourn, of course. They would cry over their loss, and little Alex would be sheltered by the loving arms of her aunts. But her foster grandmother would not let such a thing rest. She was a vicious woman when crossed, and it was not long until she learned who had done such a thing to her daughter.

The culprit was sitting at his desk in the Harper compound when he received a package. Eager to explore its contents, he unwrapped the large present, and gasped at the contents.

The torn bodies of five different harpers, all tossed inside the crate, cut to pieces with the same precise, methodical slices of a talented butcher. Maggots were beginning to peek from their orifices, but in their skin was a simple message, cut with the same knife that had ended their lives.

His lips trembling, the man ushered out the message aloud, as if saying the words would somehow make this image less real.

"You're next, Galvarey."
---