Bentley & Nazili

“Bentley.” Nazili approaches Bentley. “You’ve been so very quiet this entire time. I’m… concerned.”

He gives a wide smile that wouldn't take an insight check to know is forced.

"I'm ok. I'm savin' up concern for the people what need it, y'know? We did good. I can't believe we almost had to do it without you. They... I mean, err, we need you. I think more than you realize. Sometimes I... Eh... Nevermind."

Nazili’s lips pull into a taut line, as it is evident that she smells bullshit. She pauses, trying to think of some enlightening comeback. She finds none. Nazili stares in Bentley’s general direction with a profound sadness in her eyes.

“Do yourself a favor, Bentley. Don’t turn out like me, alright. Don’t feel like it is okay to bury your emotions so deep inside yourself that they begin to rot like old meat. It only leads to more suffering. The longer you wear the mask, the heavier it becomes.”

He takes the mask out of his pocket and stretches it taut between his hands.

"I took the mask off, Nazili. I just don't know who's under it."

Fire crackles at his fingertips as the mask burns to cinders.

“I’m not talking about that mask, Bentley.” Nazili raises a hand, trying her best to find the proper destination. She manages to rest her fingers over Bentley’s lips. “I’m talking about this one.” She withdraws her hand.

“Sometimes… we are forced to become a mask. We wear different ones for different people. And sometimes we can lose ourselves in this game. This game of masks...”

Bentley takes Nazili's hand, squeezing it gently before lowering it away from himself and letting go.

"It was never a game. It's people's lives -- my family's lives. I may not know what I am, but I know what I need to be. I have to hold onto that for as long as I can. You all deserve that much. More than I can giv..." He stops himself with a sigh.

"I envy you, you know that? You've got so much conviction. Guidance. You have Amauntor. Sometimes I think... I mean, I just... I've got everything I ever wanted. My family. My father. My true path, whatever that means. I know my purpose in this world is to help save it. I'm handy in a fight, sure, but someday that fight's gonna be over and then... Then what? That fairy lady kept me because of my power. Power I don't understand. I can't even count how many baddies have tried to take over my head, and it works because... Well, because I'm the kind of guy who can't count that high. Whatever is comin', this big fight, it's bigger than me. And until I figure out my place in all this... Maybe you'd all be better off..." He stops himself again and stands, fighting tears.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said... I can't do this now. I'm sorry." He walks away.

“You might not know your place in all of this, Bentley, but I sure as hell know mine.”  Nazili hurries to close the gap between them, knowing she is only of the only people dexterous enough to do so. She grabs him from behind, forcing him into a tight embrace even though he might not want it.

“I am here for you. For each and every one of you. Exactly one year ago, two monks, a dragonborn, and a gith all met each other… and it changed all of our lives forever. Don’t you think for a damn second, that we would ever feel like we would be better off without our Bentley. This family was built on our shoulders. We are stronger together than we ever were alone.”

Nazili holds him for as long as he allows and then backs off. “This “conviction” you speak of. It comes from tasting dirt in your mouth time and time again, from being beaten down and told you are useless and powerless by more than you can handle. Conviction is stubbornness. It’s you being stubborn enough to look at your demons in the eyes and tell them ‘Enough!’ You don’t have to be the smartest or the strongest man in the world to do that. Although I may be blind, I know for a fact that there’s much more to you than a happy guy who’s good at hitting things. No one is ever so simple.”

Bentley nuzzles into the embrace, sobbing. "They got me, Nazili. They got me and I wasn't scared. They were going to use me and my power and I knew you would come for me but I didn't want you to. I won't let them use me, Nazili. I won't let them use me against you." When Nazili breaks the embrace, Bentley does his best to compose himself. His face is full of strange, sad resolve.

"We're strongest together. But I can be stronger. If I knew... If I finished my training... You've been around forever, Naz. I'm just starting out. I never got to be a kid. I never had a family until now. I won't lose it. When we fight Calithes, or Indrajit, or Vecna, or whatever, things are just gonna keep getting worse. And I want to be ready. I have to be. For us. We started this together. I just want to be strong enough to finish it."

Nazili nods reassuringly. “We all must find the path that is laid before us. You will do well among the monks of your order.” She smiles and turns away, walking back to the camp. Before she takes a step, she turns her head over her shoulder.

“Should you need any kind of intermediary training between now and then… I’m not going anywhere. Not this time.” She turns back and continues onward.

Bentley stands alone, cracking the closest thing to a real smile he's had in months. When he suddenly feels Flynt's hand clap down on his shoulder, he jumps, startled, with a loud echoing yelp.

Flynt laughs heartily and says, "Damn, you got a pep talk, too? I thought what we had was special."

Bentley holds the smile a little too long, until it becomes awkward.

Flynt says, "That's a good look on you. Hang on, something's missing..."

He sticks a toothpick in Bentley's mouth. It hangs there limply.

"Perfect."

They stand together in silence.