Calculated Companionship

The air still buzzed faintly with dying magic. Kagha was shaking, her fingers clawing weakly at the dirt as if she could dig her way back to whatever power had just been stripped from her. Her snake had coiled tightly beneath her, its head pressed to her thigh, eyes dull and unblinking. Even the creature looked lost. Watching her like that tied a knot in my stomach. For all her ruthlessness, for all her cold-blooded pride and willingness to kill outsiders without hesitation—maybe she didn’t deserve this. Or maybe she did. Hard to tell, really.

Still, seeing her like that felt wrong. Funny thing—the best outcome for her in the game is that she gets demoted. I guess the divine has a sense of humor. But contrary to the game, now she was going to be banished from the Grove. Exiled, powerless, abandoned. I couldn’t leave her like that.

I crouched beside her and rested a hand on her shoulder. She froze, the tremors fading slightly though she didn’t look up. “I never meant for you to lose your power,” I said quietly. “The hag tried to trick me, and you got caught in the middle. For that, I’m sorry.”

Her breath hitched but she didn’t respond. I went on. “In a perfect world, you would’ve led this Grove. After the ritual, you’d have been unbound from Sylvanus—free to follow your desires instead of his balance.” I exhaled slowly. “You’d have been magnificent.”

That got a reaction. Her breathing steadied, her shoulders easing, and she slowly lifted her head. Her eyes were rimmed red, streaked with tears she hadn’t realized she’d shed. “It’s all gone,” she whispered. “The Grove. My rank. They’ll turn on me now.”

“I don’t know how to fix that,” I said quietly, “but our camp’s a safe place,” Her head jerked up, surprise visible across her face. “You can stay there for now, under my protection. We’ll figure things out from there.” I added, forcing a wry smile. She swallowed hard, then nodded once, the faintest spark of gratitude softening her expression.

For a heartbeat, she just breathed, staring at me like she was trying to decide if this was pity or strategy. Then she wiped her face with the back of her hand. “I don’t need mercy,” she said after a pause. "I’ll earn my keep. I’ll be of use.”

"I’m sure you will,” I said, managing a small smile.

She studied me for several seconds, her eyes sharp again, searching for something. "I heard what the hag said," she murmured. "About the potion, and how she twisted your words. I saw your shock."

She drew a slow breath and continued, her tone softer, "Besides, You could have killed me when you had the chance. You didn’t. That means even if you want something from me—it isn’t my life." Her gaze lingered on me, and a faint blush rose on her cheeks. "If that’s true… then I’m willing to serve you, to be of use however you see fit."

“Thanks… I think.”

We stood there awkwardly for a moment, neither sure what to say. Kagha’s snake flicked its tongue, the only movement between us. Finally, I cleared my throat, trying to find the right words. “We should probably… finish the ritual.” She nodded quickly, relief flashing across her face at the shift in focus.

“I need the spot directly beneath the Idol,” I said, scanning the cavern ceiling. “The exact center.”

Kagha turned without hesitation, studying the patterns of roots with a practiced eye. “There,” she said, pointing two feet to my left. “The roots beneath the idol—that’s where the energy would be growing from."

Her eagerness was unnerving. I watched her for a long moment before asking, “You’d help me do this? Just like that?”

Her expression didn’t change. “Until now, the Grove’s survival was my survival. But that’s gone. My survival now depends on you.”

I stared at her, trying to decide if that was loyalty or opportunism. “And if our goals clash?” I asked carefully. “If I become… inconvenient to your survival?”

Kagha met my gaze without hesitation. “Then I’ll do what I’ve always done,” she said evenly. “Adapt. It’s what you’d do.”

I actually laughed. “That’s very honest of you. I’ll give you that.”

“Honesty is my only option,” she replied flat. “At least with you. I'd rather not give you a reason to decieve me again.”

The words hung between us for a while, heavy, and uncomfortably accurate.

She crouched beside the roots, tracing a finger over the dirt. “You’re going to plant something here, aren’t you?”

I glanced at her. “You could say that.”

“What will it do?”

I hesitated, then decided there was no point lying—not to someone who had already seen the Grove die and then stand with me. “It will corrupt,” I said simply. “Sprout through the cracks—or the gaping wound rather—and grow into something new. Twisting purity into perversion, something my patron favors.”

Her head tilted slightly. “Your patron,” she repeated. “Who is it?”

I hesitated for a moment longer, then, the words spilled out as if on their own. “Graz’zt.”

She blinked at the name, recognition flickering faintly across her face. “So that’s why you have such a… pull,” she said slowly. “It explains a lot.”

My brows furrowed. “Wait. You've heard about him?”

Kagha nodded. “Only in fragments. When I studied the faiths of druids, I had to learn their enemies too. The divine, the profane, the things that balance and destroy. Graz’zt—the Prince of Pleasure. Temptation, tyranny, and deceit. Few in this world still remember his name; his deeds are whispered in fragments and half-truths, most erased by holy fear. Lore from the Forgotten realms, they’d call it.”

She paused, her expression unreadable. “Of the wicked things I’ve learned, he never struck me as a monster."

That caught me off guard. “You don’t sound like you disapprove.”

“I don’t,” she said quietly. "I've always had an interest in what lurks outside the light. The Shadow Druids, the Duergar, the Drow—perhaps Graz’zt isn’t so different from them after all." She smiled faintly, wistfully. “I was born in this Grove. Trained here. Never left. It’s all I’ve ever known. And now it’s gone.”

Her gaze turned back to me, sharp yet curious. “Maybe it’s time I learned what lies beyond. Even if that means following someone like you.”

Her words lingered, equal parts warning and invitation.

I exhaled through my nose, forcing the tension down.

"Let's finish this," I muttered.