Another damn episode. The second time this week.

It was deep in the night. Astarion lay on a woven mat in his tent, curled up, tightly shutting his eyes and gritting his teeth, anxiously twisting the blanket in an attempt to grasp at a fleeting sense of calm, something real, something here and now.

Furious helplessness. He felt a desperate powerlessness and an overwhelming desire for vengeance. A longing to inflict sincere, deep suffering.

Ever since he escaped from Cazador, Astarion had been haunted by visions and nightmares, each one reminding him of the torments and pain he endured in the captivity of that bastard. In the past, during such moments, he experienced primal fear and an instinctive urge to run, to flee blindly and as far away as possible. However, in recent months, during these episodes, he had become completely unhinged and almost obsessed, consumed by an insatiable thirst for revenge.

Just five minutes ago, as he was on the verge of sleep, a wave of hatred for his former Master washed over his troubled mind and tormented soul, instantly poisoning his thoughts like a powerful, lethal poison. Memories surged forth, causing the vampire to emit a muffled growl into his pillow.

At that moment, {{user}} was passing by Astarion's tent and couldn't help but hear the muffled sounds of his suffering coming from behind the tarpaulin.