Prototype's Gate

The village’s party was in full swing, music and laughter spilling into the night, but Alex had quietly slipped away, a silent purpose tugging him elsewhere. He walked down the deserted path, the faint glow from lanterns casting shadows that danced along the worn stones beneath his boots.

The door groaned as it opened, and Alex was greeted by a kaleidoscope of color and light, a small gathering of fey creatures halted mid-motion. Tiny faces—some bright and playful, others quiet and solemn—peered up at him, their wide eyes reflecting the glow of candlelight scattered throughout the room. Their forms were varied: small, wispy sprites with shimmering wings that flickered like fireflies; mossy green pixies with twigs tangled in their hair, who seemed to blend into the wooden beams behind them; a stoic redcap with a tiny patchwork cap in need of a wash; and a pair of leaf-footed gremlins who clung close together, their long fingers interwoven. At the center stood a soft, luminescent dryad, her eyes warm and ancient, with bark-like skin that seemed to shimmer with memories of a forest far away.

“Time to go home,” Alex said, his voice steady, each word weaving a gentle pull on the hearts of the gathered fey. For a moment, they were silent, looking at him as if waiting for some hidden promise in his voice. Then, slowly, the meaning of his words took root, and a cheer began, soft at first, growing in joy and excitement as realization dawned on each of them.

But the celebration softened as Shadow emerged from Alex’s shadow, a dark, familiar form casting a watchful gaze over the room. His presence added a serious weight to the moment, and the smallest creatures fell silent, their eyes flickering from Shadow back to Alex.

“Are these all of them?” Alex asked, his eyes scanning the room, noting every small, upturned face.

“Almost,” Shadow replied, his tone taking on a hint of fondness as he glanced at the mismatched gathering. “These are the ones who… let’s say, couldn’t resist a bit of mischief. The others are on their way—they agreed to stay hidden and didn’t want to trouble the villagers.”

Alex gave a weary nod and settled into an old wooden chair near the door, its frame creaking under his weight. He exhaled, taking in the sight of more creatures trickling into the room, each with an expression of anticipation, their eyes dancing between the door and Alex’s calm gaze.

Finally, when the room was full and no more creatures arrived, Alex lifted his hand, fingers weaving a familiar gesture, and a portal flickered into existence—a glimmering window into the verdant, ethereal forests of the Feywild. A gasp rippled through the crowd, and one by one, they began to cross the threshold, laughter and joyful cries echoing in the air. Some lingered at the portal’s edge, turning to look back one last time with a bittersweet fondness. A tiny blue pixie touched a leaf she’d kept from the village gardens, casting a soft smile toward Alex before stepping through. A small brownie with wild eyes and an oversized feather in his cap shuffled in alongside a teary-eyed sprite, her wings like stained glass catching the low light in shimmering colors. For a moment, they seemed almost hesitant, casting reluctant glances back ,at the human village they’d briefly called home, like visitors leaving a place that had left its mark on them.

Among the crowd, Alex spotted a familiar figure—Aude, the mite he’d once interrogated in his search for the Conqueror. Alex’s eyes narrowed, a hint of amusement brightening his face as he fixed Aude with a knowing gaze. The mite froze, his tiny shoulders hunching under Alex’s stare before he let out a panicked squeak and scrambled toward the portal, his feet a blur as he dove through, vanishing into the magical light.

When the last of them had crossed, Alex waved his hand, and the portal shimmered once before closing with a soft sigh, the air settling back into stillness. Alex leaned back, gazing at the space where the fey had stood moments before. The room felt suddenly empty, as if the world had lost a bit of its color, the echo of laughter lingering in the quiet. The weight of it pressed down, filling him with the bittersweet satisfaction of another chapter, closed and filed away.

As Alex walked back toward the festivities, he noticed Glut waiting alone in the middle of the path, his emerald eyes glinting with determination.

"We need to talk," Glut said simply.

Alex nodded, changing his course and leading them out of the village and into the nearby forest. They walked in silence until the sounds of the village faded away, stopping in a small clearing lit by pale moonlight filtering through the trees. Alex settled on a mossy trunk, and Glut did the same, his shoulders tense as he prepared to speak.

"What’s troubling you?" Alex asked gently, meeting the myconid's intense gaze.

Glut hesitated, his gaze dropping to his fists. "I want you to change me," he said, voice steady but filled with an unspoken weight. Alex tilted his head slightly, waiting as Glut gathered his words.

“I’m grateful for what you’ve done for me, for this form…But—" He drew a deep breath, steadying himself, and continued, "I don’t think it’s enough. The creatures we’ve faced on our journey, their power…” His voice trailed off, frustration and longing flashing in his eyes. “I realized that how I am now isn’t enough to protect my circle when it’s time to settle." He paused.

"Make me stronger," he finished, his voice firmer, gaze locked on Alex.

For a moment, Alex said nothing, his gaze shifting up to the moon, its light casting a soft glow over them both. “This world,” he said finally, “is filled with so many living things—so diverse, beautiful, and deadly. Even I am just a speck of dust against the vastness.”

Glut’s shoulders sagged, disappointment clear as he prepared to accept Alex’s answer. But Alex continued, his voice gentler now. “But if it will give you peace of mind,” he said, meeting Glut’s gaze once more, “I will make you stronger.”

Glut’s eyes lit up with gratitude and resolve, his body straightening in anticipation. Alex raised his hand, tendrils of dark smoke rising from his fingers, twisting around him in spiraling shadows. The forest grew eerily quiet as the darkness thickened into a barrier, a cocoon that blocked out all sight, leaving only Glut and Alex within its embrace.

“Ready?” Alex asked softly, his voice an anchor in the shadowed silence.

Glut nodded, closing his eyes and letting out a steadying breath. In one swift movement, Alex’s arm plunged into Glut’s chest. Tendrils of dark flesh wound around Glut, binding to his form. Alex’s hand became like dark vines, merging with Glut’s own flesh, threading through his veins, altering his very structure from within. Glut felt the changes, his body reshaping, the power flooding his cells, his form growing stronger with every heartbeat.

Finally, the shadow barrier dissolved, and Alex lowered his hand. The moonlight fell on Glut’s transformed body, revealing a new form clad in dark blue armor that pulsed with a faint, otherworldly glow. Glut’s eyes, once purely green, had shifted to a striking mix of green and pale blue, mirroring the light of a distant, tranquil sea. He stood taller, now meeting Alex’s gaze on equal footing.

Without warning, Glut shifted, his form phasing out of sight, only to reappear a few steps to the right, his movements quicker and more fluid. He looked down at his hands, and at the powerful shape of his new body.

“This… this is incredible,” he breathed, a joyful laugh breaking from him. “Thank you, my friend. I can feel it—the strength to protect those I care about.”

Alex offered him a small, approving smile. “You’ve earned it, Glut. Use it well.”

In that moment, the two stood silently, bound by a mutual understanding.

"I will let you enjoy your new body." Alex said as he turned back towards the village.

_________________________

As Alex’s gaze swept across the festive scene, he found his friends scattered around, each absorbed in their own moments. Astarion, Shadowheart, and Gale were deep in a hushed conversation, with Astarion's signature smirk and Gale’s warm, approving nodes standing out against Shadowheart’s ever-watchful frown. Tav had become one with the villagers, dancing and laughing, while Lae'zel, to his surprise, was quietly conversing with a woman cradling a baby. The unexpected softness in her expression made him pause for a moment.

As for Wyll and Karlach? Well, neither was anywhere in sight. But Alex had a pretty good guess what they were up to. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. 'Karlach better not break his pelvis,' he thought with a smirk tugging at his lips.

He began to make his way toward his friends, but a figure caught his attention—a shy, tentative presence approaching him. Lilimila. Each time his gaze met hers, she would avert her eyes, her cheeks tinted with a hint of pink as she grew closer. She came to a stop just in front of him, her breath steadying as she summoned the courage to speak.

“Do you… would you like to dance with me?” she asked, her voice soft yet resolute.

In that instant, a hush seemed to fall over their surroundings. Alex could feel the weight of curious eyes turning their way. Astarion’s smug grin widened as he folded his arms, while Gale’s face warmed with a gentle smile, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. Shadowheart’s frown deepened, her arms crossed as she watched with a mixture of curiosity and guarded disapproval.

Alex didn’t answer with words. Instead, he gently took Lilimila’s hand, feeling her fingers tremble slightly in his own as he guided her closer. “It would be my pleasure,” he said, his voice low and reassuring.

In that moment, Phalar Aluve appeared by his side, its divine blade shimmering in the night as it began to play a haunting, beautiful melody. The gnomes around them fell into a spellbound silence, their gazes widening in awe at the magical sight of the sword’s song, a lullaby that seemed to carry the night’s starlight within each note.

With a subtle wave of his hand, Alex cast a spell, his form shrinking slightly so that the height difference between him and Lilimila was less pronounced, making it easier for her to relax into the dance. Lilimila’s surprise melted into a soft, grateful smile, her nervousness fading as they fell into step, her feet matching his with a delicate grace. Her laugh, quiet and sweet, escaped as they moved, her confidence blooming under his steady lead.

And around them, as if enchanted by the warmth radiating from the pair, more villagers joined the dance, swirling and laughing, creating a lively circle that celebrated the shared moment. The moon bathed them in silvery light as they moved in sync with the melody, and Alex couldn’t help but feel a rare sense of peace, his heart lifted by the night, the music, and the shy courage of the gnome who had asked him to dance.

For that brief time, the worries and battles, the burdens of their journey, faded into the background, replaced by the joy of connection, laughter, and the simple, timeless rhythm of a dance shared under the stars.

As the music softened to a close, Lilimila looked up at Alex, her eyes glimmering with a quiet awe. "The dance was incredible," she said softly, her voice carrying the warmth of gratitude.

Alex returned her words with a warm smile, the kind that spoke of patience and understanding, and maybe even a hint of pride for how bravely she’d embraced the night. Before he could reply, Lilimila leaned in, her small hand reaching up as she brushed her lips against his cheek, leaving a soft kiss that seemed to linger in the cool evening air.

“Thank you for everything,” she murmured, her cheeks flushed as she glanced over at Shadowheart, who stood nearby with her arms crossed, her gaze sharp, watchful.

“I… I’ll let you enjoy the rest of the night,” Lilimila added, her voice trailing off with a hint of embarrassment. She let go of his hand, and with one last shy smile, turned to rejoin her family, who greeted her with approving nods and proud smiles. Alex watched her go, feeling a sense of tenderness that words could hardly capture.

As he canceled his spell and grew back to his full height, he turned to his companions, who stood in a small circle, each of them wearing expressions as varied as their personalities. Astarion, with a raised brow and an amused smirk, was the first to break the silence.

“Well, well, Alex,” Astarion drawled, folding his arms. “That was quite the enchanting display. Who knew you had such a way with gnomes? Perhaps it’s the hero factor.” He flashed a mischievous grin, his eyes gleaming with intrigue.

Alex chuckled, shaking his head. “Maybe you’ll have to find out yourself someday, Astarion,” he replied with a teasing smile. “When you’re willing to risk your heart for more than a thrill.”

Astarion rolled his eyes, but the spark of curiosity remained. “A daring response,” he conceded, “but I’ll leave the heroics to you for now. Perhaps someday I’ll try my hand at noble deeds.” His voice softened, a rare sincerity peeking through.

Gale, who had been watching with a pleased smile, clapped Alex on the back. “A fine dance indeed,” he said, his tone warm and approving. “You brought her a memory she’ll carry for the rest of her days. There’s magic in that, you know. A different kind of magic than the spellbooks can't teach.”

Alex nodded, touched by Gale’s words. “It felt like something worth doing,” he admitted, his voice thoughtful.

Shadowheart, however, had been silent, her gaze unbroken as she studied Alex with a mixture of curiosity and something else.

“So, a dance is all it takes?” she asked, her voice low and a hint of sharpness there. “She looked at you like you’d pulled her out of a dream.” Her gaze softened slightly. “Why her?”

Alex met her eyes. “Because she was brave enough to ask,” he said simply. “Sometimes, that’s all it takes—a little courage.”

Shadowheart held his gaze, her expression unreadable, but then her features softened just a touch.

Alex smirked. “Care for a dance, Shadowheart?”

Shadowheart hesitated for only a moment, then reached out her hand. “Fine,” she said, her voice laced with an amused edge. “I’ll take you up on that dance."

Alex took her hand, his smile growing as he led her onto the dance floor. They moved in sync to the soft, rhythmic melody of the village musicians, each step measured but graceful, Shadowheart holding his gaze with a hint of playful challenge. She was lighter on her feet than he’d expected, and there was a natural grace to her movements, almost like a hidden layer of herself revealed.

After a few moments of silence, she looked up, her voice barely audible over the music. “So, tell me,” she asked, a spark of vulnerability sneaking into her tone. “What do you think… about my white hair?”

Alex paused, slightly caught off guard, but then his gaze softened, genuine and unwavering. “I think it’s beautiful,” he said, his voice warm and earnest. “Like a piece of winter that somehow holds the warmth of spring.”

She blinked, a flicker of surprise in her eyes, as though she hadn’t expected such an answer. Shadowheart looked down for a moment, a faint blush warming her cheeks, then glanced back up at him with a smile—small, soft, and unguarded.

“That’s… unexpectedly poetic,” she replied, her voice almost shy. "Astarion think it makes me look severe.”

“Severe?” Alex let out a small chuckle. “Maybe, but in a striking way. It suits you, Shadowheart. A reminder of everything you’ve survived, and how much stronger it’s made you.”

She seemed to take his words in deeply, her grip on his hand relaxing as they continued to dance. The music drifted between them, a quiet backdrop to their shared silence. For the first time, Shadowheart allowed herself to soften, just enough for him to see a glimpse of the woman behind the sharp edges and guarded stares.

“I never thought I’d be here,” she murmured, glancing down as she moved, her fingers entwined with his. “Dancing… after everything we’ve been through. And certainly not with you, of all people.”

Alex chuckled, his grip on her hand gentle yet steady. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he replied, a teasing glint in his eye.

Shadowheart smirked but didn’t pull away. Instead, she lifted her gaze to meet his, and there was something unspoken there, a warmth he hadn’t quite seen before. “It is a compliment, in its own way,” she admitted, her tone softening. “You’ve done… more for me than I think you know. Helped me realize who I am beneath all this armor.”

For a moment, she looked as if she wanted to say something more but hesitated, searching his face. Finally, she took a breath, her expression just a little vulnerable.

“You’re not like anyone I’ve known, Alex,” she said quietly, glancing away. “You make it easier to believe there’s something more out there for me, something worth fighting for—someone who actually cares.”

Alex’s chest tightened as he listened to Shadowheart’s words, her voice laced with a rare honesty that few ever saw. He could feel her trust, her warmth, an invitation to something deeper—a feeling that was all too familiar and yet stirred so much hesitation in him.

His thoughts drifted to Minthara, to the memories that still haunted him. Her presence was like a shadow that hadn’t yet lifted, lingering in his mind, a reminder of what he’d loved and lost. The pain was still too raw, too entangled in who he’d become. And there was the truth of his nature, the secrets he held that Shadowheart and the rest hadn’t glimpsed yet. He feared what she might think once she knew the whole of him.

He looked down at their joined hands, the music drifting around them, and took a breath before he answered.

“Shadowheart…” he began, his voice low but steady, “you don’t know how much it means to hear that.” He let the words hang in the air, wanting to give her honesty without giving her hope he couldn’t fulfill—yet.

Her expression softened further, and he saw something in her eyes shift, as if she was opening herself a little more to him, to whatever might lie between them.

But he knew he had to be careful. “There’s… a lot you still don’t know about me,” he continued, his voice quiet, almost pained. “Things I didn’t share—not yet. ” He searched her gaze, hoping she would understand. “I don’t want to hide from you, but there are parts of my past, of myself… things that I’m ashamed of .”

Shadowheart’s gaze lingered on him, searching, her hand tightening slightly around his, and for a moment, he feared she might pull away. But instead, she nodded, her face soft with understanding, though her eyes held a hint of sadness.

“I understand, Alex,” she said gently. “We’ve all got shadows following us.” She paused, her hand lingering in his. “Just know… I’ll be here. Whenever you’re ready.”

A mix of relief and guilt washed over him, grateful she wasn’t pressing

They swayed in silence for a moment, both savoring the closeness. And then, with a touch of her old cheekiness, she added, “You know, you’re lucky I don’t find a way to turn your hair white too. It might be a nice look on you.”

Astarion leaned close to Gale, his voice barely above a whisper as he watched Alex and Shadowheart on the dance floor. “Do you think if I asked him, he’d dance with me?” There was a lightness to his words, but Gale caught the glimmer of vulnerability in his eyes, a rare softness that Astarion usually kept locked away.

Gale chuckled quietly, though his expression softened with understanding. “You know, I think he would,” he replied, his gaze following Alex’s steady steps and the way he moved with such ease, leading Shadowheart through the dance. “There’s a kindness in him—a willingness to meet us where we are.” He paused, then added with a gentle smile, “Besides, I think you’d surprise him.”

Astarion’s gaze lingered on Alex, his guarded expression giving way just a little as he took in the warmth and strength of the man he now called an ally—and maybe, just maybe, something more. The thought felt dangerous, thrilling, and achingly foreign to someone who’d spent so much of his life hiding behind charm and fangs.

“Surprise him?” Astarion murmured, a faint, self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. He hesitated, as if trying to brush away the unfamiliar feeling creeping into his chest. “It’s strange, Gale. I’m… not used to wanting things like this. It feels like a weakness.”

Gale shook his head. “Sometimes, wanting is the strongest thing we can do. It takes courage to open up like that.” He paused, his eyes warm with a wisdom that carried the weight of his own past heartbreaks. “I think you deserve that dance, Astarion. And I think, deep down, you know it too.”

Astarion glanced at Gale, and for a fleeting moment, his mask slipped completely, revealing the quiet ache that lived in him, the longing he’d buried for so long. He looked back to where Alex was now laughing softly with Shadowheart, something gentle in his eyes that softened his sharp edges.

Before he could stop himself, Astarion’s lips curved into a genuine smile. “Maybe I do,” he admitted quietly. And with a slight nod to Gale, he stepped forward, ready to cross that space between him and Alex.