'Empty... So... empty...'

Imoen sat on the narrow cot, re-braiding her hair. Nimble fingers worked on the sparse strands while her eyes looked blankly at the wall. She didn't notice the two figures outside the cell door. She didn't notice anything.

'She survived?'

'Yes. A surprise, I admit, since the process is rather... taxing, after all. How do you feel?'

'Incredible. Like I could take on the whole world. Although...'

'Yes? What is it? Some side effect, perhaps?'

'I don't know if it's a side effect. I simply feel... protective of this life, once again. I feel the need to just... enjoy myself, now that I have something to enjoy.'

'I see. Well, as long as it does not interfere with our plans, I have no objection. You still have some time before... what's his name...'

'I forget. Something beginning with A, I think. Just call him Gorion's Ward.'

'Why not? I estimate another week before Gorion's Ward gets here. Until then, you're free to, as you say, "enjoy yourself." Just don't forget what is to come after.'

'Don't worry, brother, I won't. Farewell for now, then.'

The figures went away, and only blessed silence remained. Imoen liked silence these days.

:::::

How many times has she braided and re-braided her hair? She didn't know. How long has she been here? She didn't know.

Why was she here?

Where was here, exactly?

Imoen sat on the narrow cot, re-braiding her hair again and looked blankly at the collection of precious stones before her. They were pretty, she had to admit. Not pretty enough to go crazy over, though.
Such a silly man. What was his name? She didn't know. She did know that he was vexing, with his constant chatter and his fidgeting and his strange way of speaking. Yes, very vexing.
She wanted him to be silent, so she silenced him.

Then there was the gnome. He just wouldn't stop blabbering. Imoen didn't want to listen to blabbering. She just wanted to be left alone. Alone and empty.
So she silenced him, too.

The cell doors opened just as Imoen finished clasping a new braid in place. She raised her eyes to meet his, and smiled sweetly.

'I'm so glad you came,' she said.

'Are you, Imoen?'

'Yes, I am. Look, I've done my hair all nice for you. Isn't it pretty? Don't you like it when I'm pretty?'

'Your looks are really irrelevant to me, Imoen. I-'

'No they're not. Or they didn't use to be. I remember. You called me pretty a lot, back then. Back when you were so eager to show me. Do you remember? How you cut... and touched? You liked to do both.'

'I have had what I needed from you, Imoen, so none of that matters anymore.'

'So why do you come back?'

She let go of her hair and faced him squarely. There was something new in her, something... aware, something... sane? No, it couldn't be. All the same, he almost took a step back.

'You come back, because there is nothing else for you to do,' she said, and her young face held a sneer that put ancient vampires to shame. 'You have nowhere else to turn, no other hope, nothing. You only have me now.' She took a step towards him.

'It is true that your brother is taking his time rescuing you. I had thought your safety would be a more urgent concern for him.'

'Oh it was. It was, believe me. He would have done anything for me. He would have died for me.' She laughed, a pearly laughter of an expensive courtesan, and put her hands to her heart, showing off her red-stained fingernails. 'Adrian would have died for me. And he did.'

'What? What did you say?'

'You heard me. He's dead. Adrian is dead. He died last night.'

Irenicus gasped, sparks of raw power fizzling on his fingers as he lost control of his magic for a moment. 'How can you know this?'

'Oh I know. I felt it.' Imoen came up to him, close, closer than she would ever dare when she was... herself. But she wasn't, was she? Not anymore.
Funny, she never noticed it before, but he was actually a little shorter than her.

'I felt his essence freed. I felt it dissolve back into the Abyss. I think all the Bhaalspawn must have felt it. There was so much... Daddy will be pleased.'

'No! He's not dead! He can't be dead!'

'Oh, but he is. I'm sure you have enough magic to check that, anyway. Go ahead, check.'

Irenicus stared at her, so funny in those ridiculous clothes, in that strange headgear of his. Did he know how ridiculous it made him look? Did he think it was intimidating? No class, no imagination at all. Imoen looked at her fingernails and clicked her tongue impatiently. 'I should redo all that, really I should. The colour is already draining. Are you still here, Irenicus? Go cast your spells. I'll wait.'

'Wait? What for?'

'For your return, silly.'

'Wha- Why would I come back?'

Honestly, was he always so slow? Imoen laughed at his expression.

'Because now that Adrian's dead, you're like me. Empty. Desperate. And wilting.'