Anger burning in her chest, Serena stormed through the courtyard, slammed open the gate, and marched out onto the already crowded sidewalk.

For once, the city was quiet in her ears. That brilliant tempo from before muffled the world around her, it’s hammering beat all she could hear. A pale white crept into the corners of her vision, tunneling it, keeping her focus to directly in front of her. She paid no attention to the concerned looks thrown her way as the crowds parted around her.

Serena gritted her teeth as she walked; her blood ran hot in her veins, each heartbeat sending a searing pain coursing through her body, the tips of her fingers slowly going numb. Yet none of it rivaled the fear that blazed within Serena’s mind.

A City Guard stopped in front of her, the only one willing to stand in the empty space. A nervous look filled her eyes, but when the guard spoke, Serena could only make out a murmur.

With a twist of her fingers, Serena teleported further up the sidewalk, away from the guard. She did not look back as the people around her moved to accommodate her.

Serena ran a hand through her hair, nails digging into her scalp.

She had to get to Werond. She needed to talk to Werond. It was the only way to quell the heat within her head.

But what could Werond say that Serena didn’t already know? Werond was their ally. There was nothing else to it. Regardless of her affiliations with the Guild, potential accomplices to the Dragon Cult, Serena knew that everything that Werond did for them – for her, was genuine.

She knew that from seeing the pain in Werond’s eyes, hearing the quaver of her voice, holding her through all the breakdowns – all of it inflicted because Werond’s love was genuine. She wanted to be with Serena, despite everything within her life telling her to stay away. And how easy it would have been for Werond to listen to those fears – how easy it would have been to keep Serena in the dark, and never have to worry about hurting her, never have to worry about having another Tai on her hands.

But Werond couldn’t do that. Despite how easy it was, she chose to pull Serena in anyways. Didn’t that say enough?

The flames roared inside her mind, searing her skull, bringing with them their horrible doubts. Serena stopped and clutched at her head, grimacing, fighting in vain to keep the thoughts out.

Panting, trying to refocus her thoughts, she glared up at the street signs above her, surprised to find herself at the intersection where the street met The High Road. How long had she been walking?

Serena ducked her head and dug her nails in; she couldn’t focus on the question, so violently did the flames of fear burn within her mind.

Werond was genuine. She wasn’t lying. She wasn’t manipulating Serena. That had to be true. It had to be. It had to be.

But what was she to do if it wasn’t?

Serena shuddered.

She was being irrational, she knew that. Nothing that Werond had done ever seemed fake or disingenuous. Every word she spoke, every brush of her fingers, all of it was real. All of it.

But how would she truly know, from how easily Werond lied to her?

Serena gritted her teeth.

Werond couldn’t fake the turmoil she had gone through. Had she never said a word, Serena would still be able to see just how much pain she went through to tell her everything.

But had that been Werond’s plan all along? To pull Serena in and keep her in place, long enough for –

Serena snapped up straight, so violently that the people around her flinched; paying them no heed, she forced herself forward, trying desperately to ignore the burning inside her mind.

Nothing made sense anymore; everything Serena was so sure about slowly came crumbling apart as each of her fears and doubts mounted an attack against her.

She needed to talk to Werond. She needed her answers. It was the only way to stop those doubts.

And perhaps just as importantly, Werond needed to know that the others knew her secret. It was only right.

Serena rounded the streetcorner, only to halt again, blinking. So distracted by the inferno in her mind, she only now realized that she was heading the wrong way.

Spinning on her heel, Serena tried to remember where to go, only to come face to face with three members of the City Guard, standing together in the empty space around her. Their hands rested on the hilts of their swords, and each wore a look of concern.

Just as the situation registered for her, a hand seized her right shoulder.

Grimacing, she twisted her fingers, arcs of blue lightning jumping between them, and looked up at the person next to her, hand moving to strike.

She froze.

A Drow glared down at her, dressed in ridiculous looking black and gold leather armor, a floppy purple hat titled on his head.

“Vorn gave that choker to you, didn’t he?” He hissed.

Serena blinked; she could barely make out the blur as Jarlaxle’s fist smashed into her face.

Her vision exploded into stars, a curtain of black falling quickly after; the burning flared within her mind as Serena felt herself dragged to the side and flung to the ground.

Her head smacked against the pavement, the flames roaring with the pain. Serena gasped for air and blinked rapidly, the swimming void slowly clearing from her vision. She could barely make out the sky above her, cut to a blue strip by the buildings on either side of her.

“Block the entrance.” Jarlaxle said from a few feet away.

Head still swimming, Serena propped herself up with one elbow.

She lay in an alleyway, some feet away from the entrance; Jarlaxle, hate burning in his eyes, marched towards her. Behind him, the three guards stood in the threshold of the alley, back towards them, cutting off Serena’s view of the sidewalk.

Head throbbing, mind burning, Serena began to twist her fingers.

Jarlaxle closed the distance and drove the tip of his boot into Serena’s chin.

Her teeth crunched together painfully, pain exploding throughout her face. Serena flung back into the pavement and smacked her head again, more stars exploding into her vision.

She felt Jarlaxle grab the front of her tunic, pull her up, and slam her against alley wall. As her vision began to clear, he leaned in, his breath hot against her face.

“Think of how easier this could have been had you just shone me the fucking collar.” He spat. “Could have taken you then and there, but you insist upon making this harder for yourself.” Jarlaxle curled his lip. “Where in the Nine Hells is your father hiding?”

The fire in her chest roared in response.

Serena gritted her throbbing teeth, then spat a glob of blood into Jarlaxle’s face.

Jarlaxle immediately released one hand and drove his fist into Serena’s stomach – he pulled back and drove it in again, and again, and again.

Each blow felt like a mace, sharp pain exploding through her stomach and chest; the air was shoved out of her lungs, and with each successive blow, Serena’s chest spasmed horribly, her lungs aching for air. By the time Jarlaxle was done, it was all Serena could do to stay conscious.

“Fine by me.” Jarlaxle said; he didn’t bother to wipe his face off. “There are other ways to figure that out. Until then…”

His hands jumped up and wrapped around Serena’s throat.

A searing heat erupted from her choker; Jarlaxle screamed and leapt back, throwing Serena to the pavement.

She collapsed in a heap, her hands darting up to her throat; the choker burned brilliantly against her skin, cutting off her breath. She clawed at the clasp on the back of her neck but couldn’t get it off.

“You bitch!” Jarlaxle screamed; the smell of burning flesh filled the alleyway. “What did you – stay at the entrance!” He roared to the side.

Tears stinging in her eyes, Serena shoved her fingers under the choker, lifting it away from her throat. The searing pain lessened, allowing her to pull in a breath.

Right in time for Jarlaxle’s boot to smash into her stomach.

Pain exploded in Serena’s abdomen, the force shoving her against the wall. The flames within her roared painfully, her vision swimming, as Jarlaxle knelt in front of her, steam rising from his hands.

Somehow, the fury in his eyes had only intensified.

Serena tried to raise her arms, tried to sign, but her body felt sluggish, refusing to work.

Jarlaxle yanked out a dagger from his belt, eyes hard, and moved towards Serena’s neck.

She screamed.

And the choker erupted into flames.

…

“We’re not going to talk about that?!” Pavel sputtered.

Jo shrugged and yanked her belt from out the foyer closet; she strapped it around her waist, adjusting the rapier at her side.

“I know exactly what I heard,” She said, tossing Pavel his own belt and weapons. “and I don’t like it one bit. Not after what you said.” Jo shot a look at Cruck’aa.

“Yes, because it’s my fault.” Cruck’aa grumbled by the front door.

“It is your fault!” Jo yelled, marching up to him. “You told Serena that you wanted to remove Werond! What did you expect would happen? That she’d agree with you?!”

“That’d she’d see the logic in it!” Cruck’aa fired back. “That woman has been –”

“You expect her to throw everything away because of a single comment?!”

“Guys!” Pavel yelled, belt and weapons adjusted. “Did both of you already know Serena could talk?! Am I missing something?”

Jo’s glared daggers at Cruck’aa, her hands clenching into fists. For a moment, Pavel swore she was about to punch the Aarakocra, only to thankfully shake her head instead.

“No. I’m just as surprised as you.” Jo moved towards the door. “I don’t know what it means, but if it’s anything like what happened at the coliseum…”

“Means she’s hiding something too.” Cruck’aa growled.

“I will pretend I didn’t just hear that.” Jo pulled open the door and looked over her shoulder. “Regardless, we need to find her. I don’t think she’s thinking clearly, and gods know what she’ll do right now.”

“What? What could she do?” Pavel asked, following Jo as she walked out of the house and through the courtyard. “Besides tell Werond.”

Jo halted at the courtyard gate and turned around; behind her, the sounds of a typical Waterdeep day bled over the stonewalls.

“I honestly don’t know, and that’s what scares me.” She said. “Cruck’aa just told her that Werond’s working against all of us, and while I don’t think that’s entirely true…I can’t imagine Serena’s thinking straight with this information. We have no idea what goes on between them behind closed doors, and for all we know, this could have actually triggered something.”

“Right, right.” Pavel glanced over his shoulder as Cruck’aa stepped out into the courtyard. “How do you plan on finding her though?”

“She’s going to Castle Waterdeep. If she needs to find Werond, she’ll be there.”

“You think they’ll just let us in?”

Jo shrugged. “Probably not. Maybe you could use that title of yours though, say you want an audience with –”

A flash went up in the sky.

Jo and Pavel froze, heads snapping to the left; all at once, the city behind the walls seemed to freeze as well.

An explosion roared over the city, a deafening shockwave rocking it like an earthquake. Pavel threw himself to the ground, Jo following suit, as the ground shook violently underneath them. Screams erupted from behind the walls as the buildings along the street danced in their foundations.

And then the shaking stopped, just as quickly as it happened.

Pavel remained on the ground, eyes wide, as Jo slowly got to her feet; screams filled the air around them as everyone beyond the walls began to panic, their voices merging into a cacophony of terror.

“What –” Pavel began, heart smashing in his chest.

Jo yelled and pointed to the sky; Pavel launched to his feet and flipped around.

Thick black smoke rose into the air from further down the street, towards the intersection where the street met The High Road. Barely visible over the rooftops, the orange tips of flames licked at the sky.

Without waiting, Jo rocketed through the courtyard gate. Pavel looked at Cruck’aa, crouched in the doorway, eyes wide, feathers ruffled, before he took off after Jo.

…

A series of knocks came from Werond’s door, done in such a way to make her heart leap into her throat.

She shoved her chair away from her desk and leapt up, hurrying to the front of the room; she yanked her helmet off the coatrack and shoved it over her head, barely giving it time to seal to her robes before she threw open the doors.

Damian, standing before her in his brilliant golden armor, nodded once, then stepped to the side. Behind him stood five of Werond’s closest advisors and servants, all dressed in thin grey clerical robes, all holding various papers and supplies. All of them wore a small grey stone, tucked into one of their ears.

Each of them shared the same look of barely concealed concern.

“Sir.” The oldest servant – Warner – stepped up, running a free hand through his thinning grey hair. “There’s been an incident.”

“What?” Werond asked; none of the servants flinched as her distorted voice filled the hallway.

“An explosion has occurred on the corner of the High Road and Waterdeep Way.” Warner paused, collecting himself. “It’s leveled three blocks sir.”

Werond’s heart shot up into her throat; she leaned against the threshold of the door as an icy fear washed over her body.

In response, her robes warmed, banishing the chill almost immediately. The sudden shift shocked Werond, forcing her to suck in a deep breath, the fear that lodged in her chest fading as she exhaled.

“Follow me.” Werond said, pushing off the threshold.

Her servants backed up and split apart, allowing Werond room to walk through them. They fell in alongside her as she made her way down the hallway, her office doors shutting by themselves.

“I need more details.” Werond said; she glanced over as Damian sped up to march in front of them.

“Of course.” Warner replied. “The explosion occurred roughly seven minutes ago, with three blocks being subsequently destroyed, as I said. All buildings within those blocks have been leveled, with moderate damage sustained to the buildings around them. Casualty reports are still coming in; fire and rescue crews have only just arrived. I’ve received reports that, with the size of the explosion in mind, death estimates could reach over five hundred easily.” Werond’s heart smashed against her chest. “No other incidents have been reported – though it’s too early to rule out, this seems like an isolated incident.”

“City Watch responded immediately,” Came a voice behind Werond. “with the Griffon Protocol enacted soon after. The perimeter has already been established, though it took a minute or two to set up.”

“No civilians trying to help?” Werond asked.

“Negative.” Came another, to her left. “The Griffon Riders have been keeping everyone back.” The servant paused. “I have one of the captains on the stone. Crowds aren’t happy. He’s requesting a reserve unit be –”

“Authorized.”

The servant grunted and relayed the message; there was never a day that Werond regretted outfitting her offices with various Sending Stones connected throughout the city.

“Do we have any culprits? Motives?” Werond asked Warner.

“I haven’t asked yet, still too early. Shall I request an update anyways?”

“Please.”

Warner nodded and placed a finger to his ear, asking for her. As he did, anxiety came trickling back into Werond’s mind.

As much as she believed herself to be a prepared governor, an explosion within the city had been completely unexpected. She had placed protocols for something like this long ago, but to think that they’d see any use…

But why had it occurred in the first place? They certainly weren’t at war, and the last act of terrorism came twenty years ago, before she was in office. And out of every faction that existed in Waterdeep, Werond couldn’t understand what any of them could gain by leveling a city block.

It had to be an accident then. But what had caused it? Higher level magic was mostly forbidden in public spaces, but perhaps –

“Sir,” Warner said, tearing Werond from her thoughts. “I’ve just received word, a civilian has crawled out of the rubble and surrendered themselves. A Drow. They’ve already been taken in.”

“A Drow?” Werond frowned under her mask.

“Yes sir. She’s devoid of any burn marks or injury and seems capable of magic. The lieutenant is seeing that she receives medical treatment but suspects that she may be the culprit.” Warner paused. “He assures me that this is based upon her apparent lack of injury, rather than the fact that she is indeed a Drow.”

“Of course.”

“Any instructions that I should relay?”

“Make sure she’s secured in the nearest cell.” Werond said. “I will want to discuss matters with her myself before the day is up.”

“Yes sir.”

“Has she said anything else?” The thought popped into Werond’s mind; the more information she had, the better.

“Allow me to ask.” Warner relayed the question, then paused. “No, she hasn’t said much; they put anti-magic shackles on her, which had the unfortunate side effect of cutting off her speech.”

“They gagged her?”

“No. The Drow seems to speak with a kind of magical sign language, but –”

Werond halted, a bolt of shock tearing through her body; Warner continued for a few steps, only to stop as he realized what had happened. The servants behind Werond almost ran into her.

“Sir?” Warner asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

Werond could barely hear him; her heart hammered in her chest, pounding in her ears. Sweat began to bead on her lower back, forcing the enchantments on her robes to try to cool her down again.

“Magical sign language?” She asked, the quaver of her voice hidden by the mask’s distortion.

“Uhm…yes sir.” Warner replied, brows furrowed. “It’s quite odd. I haven’t a clue what it could mean, but I could ask if –”

“No.” Werond said. “No. Do not. Place the culprit in a cell nearby. I will speak to them myself.”

“Uh, of course sir. Is there –”

“I do not wish to repeat myself.”

“Right, right.”

Warner’s hand went back to his ear; without waiting for confirmation, Werond resumed walking, her entourage keeping pace.

Thick claws of anxiety threatened to tear through her chest, but Werond wouldn’t let them. She breathed deep and shoved them away, forcing herself to believe that their culprit wasn’t who she believed it to be.

She knew that hope would be in vain.