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A clear and starry sky covered the campsite. A gentle breeze swirled around, soothing the tired bodies of the camp residents, and the temperature was just right - not too hot or too cold. After an exhausting day of adventures, that was the perfect night to relax while enjoying a glass of wine, reading, or engaging in conversation until eventually falling asleep.
Or, at least, it should have been the perfect night. But this time, it wasn’t. There was no wine, no conversation, and no sleep. There was just silence. An empty and oppressive silence.
As Gale was lying in his tent, his mind refused to let go of the events of that day. He had opened up about his life as a wizard prodigy, his relationship with his own goddess, and the mistake that ultimately made him lose everything. He had watched the horror unfold in the faces of his companions as he showed them the danger the orb represented. A justified reaction, he would say.
“You thrice-damned rotten bastard! You’ve been the greatest threat to our lives all this time!” shouted Lae’zel, pointing at him, “We must be rid of this menace!”
“Have a heart,” Wyll peacefully intervened, “Gale is one of us, and we should stand by his side.”
“Has the tadpole wrecked your senses? He must be cast out immediately!”
“Come on. We all have our secrets - and our risks,” Karlach jumped in. “If Gale leaves, we might as well disband completely!”
Gale heard their discussion, but it sounded distant, like a murmur he was listening to from underwater. As grateful as he was for the support, his attention was elsewhere, for he still was expecting the words of another.
Olifyr’s hand pressed the orb on Gale’s chest, held in place by Gale’s own hands. He had not spoken a word since their tadpole connection broke off. The wizard was on his knees, staring into the bard’s gleaming green eyes, looking for any hint of what was going on in his mind. But there was no clue. Olifyr simply stood there, motionless and emotionless, gazing down at Gale as if he were still attempting to comprehend what he had just seen.
They remained in that position for a few moments, but the anticipation made it seem like an eternity. Finally, Olifyr took a deep breath and, in his usual theatrical demeanor, turned to the others:
“I agree, he should stay. I was in this very same position mere days ago, yet here I am. Why, then, should we not grant Gale the same chance? Moreover, I don’t relish condemning him to a tragic fate or quenching his hopes for a brighter future. It would be a waste of a good story I still want to witness,” he smiled and pulled his hand from Gale’s chest, offering it to help him stand up. “We all have something we want to accomplish, and I truly believe there are happy endings to be written from all of this. But, for that, we must stand together. Disbanding now would only lead us down to a path of ruin.”
Despite Olifyr’s pleasant words, Gale noticed a crack in his performance as the bard let go of his hand and turned away. His smile quickly faded, and his green eyes looked down with unspoken sadness. They haven’t talked since then.
Inside his tent, Gale pressed his hand against the orb. He felt like hungry tendrils were constantly pressuring his heart, painfully draining all of his power and strength. It was agonizing. But at that moment, he knew the orb wasn’t the only thing weighing heavily on his chest.
Olifyr… I wonder what he is thinking. I wonder if he hates me now.
From the moment the bard rescued him from that botched portal, they became immediate friends, almost inseparable. While they were both curious men with secrets of their own, they respected each other’s need for privacy. And they had more than enough shared interests to make up for the secrecy.
It wasn’t unusual for them to talk for hours on end about the most trivial and non-trivial matters, such as arts, literature, history, folklore, and, of course, magic. Better yet, all of them simultaneously, considering Olifyr had a remarkable lack of ability to focus on one subject at a time.
And Gale thoroughly enjoyed their exchanges. Having a well-traveled, knowledgeable, and enthusiastic person like Olifyr by his side was a most welcome distraction from the discomforts the orb caused. Often, they got lost in time and ended up having way less sleep than they should.
But not that night, for it was silent. Too damn silent.
Gale turned around in his bedroll, his head racing. Perhaps he should have been honest and said how dangerous he was right away. Considering the half-elf was the one getting him the magical items he needed, it should have been the correct thing to do. Then why hasn’t he done it? Would it even change the outcome?
It seems like I am quite the expert at pushing the ones I care about away from me, after all, he thought, turning around again.
After some hours, Gale decided sleep was not for him. He left his tent and went into the nearby woods, hoping a stroll would help clear his mind and calm his emotions.
But as he walked in the quiet of the night, countless thoughts flowed through his head, making him even more agitated. He longed for the power he once possessed and missed feeling in control. He had everything a mortal could want and much more besides, yet his hubris made him lose it all. And now the orb, a symbol of his folly, drained his life force and endangered everyone around him. How stupid he was. Stupid, stupid...
Out of nowhere, the gentle notes of a lyre snapped him out of his stupor.
...stupid...
A sweet melody filled the air, like a warm embrace for a cold soul. Gale felt all his thoughts disappearing, his mind lighter than it had been in quite a while. An irresistible urge to reach the source of the tune took over him.
A beautiful singing voice accompanied the music, blending so well with the lyre that it sounded like a work of the heavens.
“Fireflies, lanterns of the night
A symphony of lights most bright
Gather around in your sublime flight
For my words will your colors ignite”
Upon recognizing the voice, Gale’s heart skipped a beat. He wanted to reach it. He needed to reach it. Light-headed, he followed the song, walking and walking until he found a clearing in the woods.
And there he was: Olifyr playing his lyre, graciously performing on the grass stage for an imaginary crowd. The green of his eyes gave way to a peculiar violet glow, and the air was crackling with... magic?
Fireflies swirled around the bard, seemingly following his lyrics. Their lights magically changed colors in response to his song, as if his words themselves were charged with power.
“Shine green, the start in the woods
Once our home where our bond withstood
Then orange, the sky’s hue so pure
When we danced our ballad as only lovers could
“Now shine red, the color of pain
From the day I left, our memories slain
Yet blue was the color of the clear sky
When destiny brought you back, our stars realigned
“Together we journeyed, sang, and loved
My life painted with colorful hues from above
Like fireflies in the night
Dancing freely, spirits taking flight”
It was an impressive, majestic display. The fireflies flew around according to the music, their colors changing from green to orange to red to blue and to a myriad of different hues.
The bard danced, played, and sang among their shiny lights, wholly immersed in his ballad and unaware that he had an actual spectator. For the first time in some hours, Gale opened a smile.
But suddenly, everything turned dark. The music shifted to a melancholic tone, and Olifyr’s voice reflected his grief. The wizard strained his eyes against the darkness, trying to discern something in his friend’s expression.
“But then the lights went dark
And you left behind a void, a mark
I have so many words, so much to say
But only silence lingers, a shadow in my way.
“Yet I’ll let the fireflies speak for me
They shine white, a symbol of grace to see
Let these lights touch your soul
Wherever you are, know that I miss you so”
All the fireflies came to a stop, shining white. Olifyr lifted his head towards the sky. His graceful demeanor became a silent desolation as his fingers slowly played the lyre’s strings.
Realization struck Gale. The song was a tribute to someone Olifyr loved, someone who had passed away. His heart sank inside his chest. He had no idea.
All of his inner instincts pressed him to get closer to the bard, and he gave one step in his direction. It was just enough for Olifyr’s sensitive ears to acknowledge his presence. Their eyes met, and Olifyr stopped playing, hesitant.
They probably kept looking at each other for a few seconds. Still, it was time enough to delve into the bard’s flickering violet-green eyes and pick up a range of different emotions - sadness, curiosity, preoccupation, and... anticipation?
The wizard smiled and nodded reassuringly. Yes, he would love it if the bard kept playing, and no, he wasn’t afraid of his magic. Olifyr smiled back, genuinely grateful. The magical violet of his eyes intensified as his fingers danced the lyre again, playing a more hopeful melody to improvise a final verse.
“Fireflies, hear my plea
Shine bright for our magical friend to see
And please, convey to him so
His presence brings colors back to show”
In awe, Gale watched as the fireflies gathered around him in a bright and colorful spiral as if he were being greeted by them. Olifyr soon joined him inside the swarm, resplendent. Fully absorbed in his music, he danced, sang, and performed, striving for perfection to impress his single-person audience.
When he finalized his private concert, his eyes returned to their typical green, and Gale felt the magic influence leaving the area - and his mind. The fireflies dispersed into the night, back to their usual routines. The bard then bowed in gratitude:
“To my most esteemed spectator! It was an honor!”
“I assure you, the honor is mine,” Gale applauded, amazed.
Olifyr grinned and sat on the grass as the wizard followed his lead. After making himself comfortable, he apologized:
“I am sorry. I went far away because I didn’t want to disturb anyone. Perhaps I should have gone farther still.”
“Don’t worry. Sleep was eluding me, so it was I who wandered far. But never mind that,” Gale shook his hand to dismiss the subject. “That song was beautiful. Is it of your creation?”
“Ah, you are too kind, mister. But indeed, it is.”
“Oh, believe you me, it was fantastic! The way the fireflies followed your words... they were enchanted. As was I, just like the other night, to be able to see their colors. It is related to your magical abilities, yes?”
“Yes. And I lured you like a harpy.” the bard teased.
“Well, at least you didn’t try to slaughter me.”
“Hah! There’s still plenty of time for that! But yes... it is the same as the other night,” Olifyr confirmed, recalling when he told a spooky story at camp and ended up trapping everyone’s minds inside it, causing generalized chaos. “When I perform, I create an entire imaginary world in my head, and words come to me as naturally as breathing. By listening to them, one may actually be enchanted to believe they are inside my fantasy.”
Olifyr’s smile faded as he leaned down and gently picked up a lone firefly from the grass, placing it in his hand. He continued, “These abilities can be rather interesting if I imagine the right things and use the right words. Alas, I don’t think the small benefits compensate for all the rest. It is still a curse. I hate it.”
Silence took over as he drifted off into his own world, as he often did. The way he spoke about his own gifts gave Gale pause. From what Olifyr had told him on the fateful storytelling night, he could literally hear words in the Weave, and then his own words became infused with magic. Gale has been dying of curiosity to know more about that ever since.
Furthermore, he couldn’t stop wondering about the person Olifyr was singing about. As much as daydreaming was typical for the bard, Gale knew that this time something was different. Something was amiss. Countless questions crossed his mind, but he decided it wasn’t the right time to ask them.
But the silence... it was unbearable. Gale could almost hear his own heart beating, his breath accelerating. Once again, he wondered if his friend resented him.
Meanwhile, the bard was playing with the firefly he held his hand, lost in a world only he could access, utterly oblivious to the turmoil that was Gale’s own mind. Or so he thought.
“Gale, you sound nervous. Is there anything wrong?” Olifyr asked without taking his eyes from the firefly.
The question startled Gale. Of course, nothing could go unnoticed by the bard’s well-trained ears. He took a deep breath and decided to speak up about what had been burdening his thoughts the entire night:
“Ah, yes... Olifyr.” the bard looked at him. “We have grown close since you rescued me from that portal. You have gone through a great deal of trouble to find the magical items I require, and we faced many perils together. And yet, despite everything you have done, I still failed to reveal the truth about myself. I understand if you want to give me the cold shoulder from now on, but I still want you to know that I... I appreciate all your help and support all the same. And also that I am grateful for you letting me stay.”
Olifyr was taken aback by the sudden shift of tone. “What, do you think I am angry at you?!”
“Hmm... are you... not?” Gale raised an eyebrow.
“No, of course not! Why would I be?”
“Because you should be! I gave you plenty of reasons to let me go away. Concealing the dangers of the orb, for one.”
“But you also gave me plenty of reasons to let you stay!” Olifyr let go of the firefly and turned towards Gale, dramatically raising his fingers to emphasize his points.
“Firstly, hunting treasures has been my job since long before we met. I enjoy doing it, so I don’t hold that against you. And watching how you used them was, well... an experience, and I appreciate new experiences.
“Secondly, everyone has secrets, and I was utterly interested to discover yours. You gave me that.
“Thirdly, I didn’t lie. I still want to witness the conclusion of your debacle.
“Fourthly, you allowed me to stay when I caused chaos at camp with my storytelling. What right do I have to let you go now, then?
“Fifthly...” Olifyr paused after the five fingers of his hand were raised, then lowered them again. “Well, I will leave the fifth reason to your imagination for now.”
“Really?” Gale relaxed his shoulders. “Do I understand correctly? Is that my punishment?”
“Mayhaps...” small creases marked Olifyr’s cheeks as he grinned. “The moral of the story is: everyone in our group has the potential to be destructive. Perhaps yours is a bit more... impactful than the average? Nonetheless, the way we managed to gather only the most unstable people of Faerûn, it would be a miracle if any of us survived to learn the truth about our tadpoles anyway. But our legends will be even more impressive if we do succeed!”
“All right. It’s a relief to know you are as melodramatic as ever,” the wizard said, feeling like he was breathing again. “You are always thinking about the stories to tell, are you not?”
“Always! And you should know that the ones who give up never make for good stories,” Olifyr relaxed his body again, his smile receding a little. “Words I ought to remember myself...”
He was on the verge of daydreaming again, but Gale wasn’t about to let him lose this line of thought:
“I appreciate all your kindness, even when I acted so foolishly before you. Still, I can’t help but notice that you have become more distant, more unreachable, more... distracted since my revelation, so to speak. Are you well?”
“Oh, I guess I did it again...” Olifyr said, giving a little knock on his own head. “I am sorry if I worried you. Sometimes, I get caught up in some thought and stop paying attention to everything else. And I confess, even when I am not angry at you, your tale gave me much to think about.”
Gale wasn’t expecting that. He knew whatever happened in the past still troubled the bard, but he couldn’t grasp the relation with his own story. Taking the opportunity, he questioned it further:
“I am glad the story of my folly at least caused some impression, but considering the beautiful song you played before... I am not sure it was a good one. Then, if I may ask, what is on your mind? If you want to open up to me, that is.”
“Surely. You told me your tale, so it is only fair that I also tell you mine. If you can spare me a moment.”
“For you, I can spare many moments.”
Olifyr cleared his throat as he felt his face going hot. It was probably just the fatigue of his performance catching up, nothing much. He took a deep breath before beginning:
“Back in the wood elf village where I lived, I was a lonely boy. As one of the few half-humans around, I was already considered different. But add that to my magical condition... I was positively the weird kid. People said I was always lost in a daydream, without any grasp of what truth and fantasy were. Well, they were not wrong.
“After all, I could hear sounds no one else could, words and music all scrambled together in an unintelligible chaos. Additionally, I had very vivid dreams about fantastical universes, and I frequently mixed them with reality. So, yeah, it is quite understandable why everyone thought I was insane.
“This very lyre I carry with me and a few books - things my human father left behind when he abandoned us - were my solace. And within time, I began writing my own songs and stories. Words flowed naturally to me like I had an endless font of inspiration inside my head. Which, in fact, I had.
“I dreamt of being a minstrel and sharing my stories with people from all over Faerûn, but no one in my family really understood any of that. Definitely the pragmatic rangers, the lot of them, and they had the same expectations of me. Thus, I had no one to share my creations with. Until I met... him.”
He paused, seemingly pained by his words. Gale noticed Olifyr wasn’t performing; he was just letting his thoughts flow out of his mind. He nodded reassuringly. Finally, the bard continued:
“Reno was his name. A half-human like me, from another village in the same forest. When we first met, he sang and played a violin atop a tree. At first, I thought it was another trick of my mind, but I pursued the sounds all the same. Thankfully, I did.
“We became friends and met regularly to play and sing together. I shared everything with him, including how I heard noises and had vivid dreams. It was such a relief to finally have someone I could open up to.
“Eventually, our friendship even became a fling. I was genuinely happy, and everything was going well... until the day my abilities became stronger. While we were singing in the middle of the village, the sounds in my head grew louder, and I had a terrible headache. Suddenly, everyone was in a frenzy, acting erratically as if they were inside my imagination. Some people even got hurt. Well... you already know how it goes.
“But back there, wood elves and magic don’t mix unless you are a damned druid. I was judged by the elder council, including my mother, and ultimately exiled. At that time, I thought I would never see anyone from there again. Not even Reno. I was devastated and alone again, but I had no option other than to move forward.
“During the next several years, I traveled around Faerûn. Not as a regular minstrel, as I always wanted, but as a mildly insane adventurer with chronic headaches, desperate to have a normal life and longing for silence, as ironic as it may sound. I believed I would find a cure if I understood the meaning of the noises I heard, so that was my mission.
“I continued writing plenty of poetry, prose, and lyrics during my adventures. However, whenever I tried to perform them, I felt pain and enchanted whoever was listening to me. Animals in the wilderness, mostly, because I just refrained from singing in public. But I still stored all my creations, hoping to share them safely one day.
“I also ended up getting pretty good at the knowledge-hunting business. Eventually, I even discovered that the noises I heard were related to the Weave, as I already told you, and I learned how to use them to find magical artifacts.
“My font of money was selling this looted literature and artifacts so others, like yourself,” he pointed at Gale, “could find them from the comfort of their local libraries. In fact, people even paid me to find things they wanted. Speaking of which, that’s how I found that tome I mentioned the other day-”
“Olifyr, as delighted as I am to hear about all the literature you found, I guess you are digressing from the original topic.” Gale gently interrupted, “But I will remind you to tell me about that later.”
“Ah, right, right, do remind me!” Olifyr laughed and shook his head to regain focus. “Well, everything changed when one day, around Neverwinter, I unexpectedly met Reno again.”
He paused for a moment, pressing a hand to his heart with a solemn smile.
“My heart almost stopped, for I didn’t anticipate seeing him again after so many years. As it were, he also had left the village soon after the ruckus I created. The local leadership grew even more hostile to us half-humans, he said. Since then, he had established himself as the leader of a mercenary group, which happened to be composed mainly of itinerant musicians.
“Knowing I was a musician and discovering my expertise as a treasure hunter and an occasional sellsword, Reno invited me to join. I was initially scared because I didn’t know how to control the extent of my powers, but he encouraged me. He said they could help me find the answers I needed. Besides, having some artistic company on my journey sounded delightful, so I accepted.
“Even when I refrained from using my voice, I was still pleased to play instruments and compose for Reno to sing. It was lovely hearing him interpret my creations, even the ones I had kept hidden for so long. But how I wanted to get rid of my magic and be on stage with him... how I wanted the noises and vivid dreams to stop... how I wanted to be normal. Instead, my symptoms were only getting worse by the time.
“Amidst my struggle against myself, my old spark with Reno became a fire, and we became lovers again. He was my light in the darkness, my only certainty inside my chaotic mind. He guided me amidst the turmoil and helped me distinguish reality from fantasy. I was glad to have him. Without him, I would be lost entirely.
“On another bright side, our band was also getting quite a reputation, and business was blooming. We had many contracts, and my knack for finding treasures was always well-rewarded. However, we also caught the wrong kind of attention. One day, the Zhentarim contacted us. They were protective of their contracts and didn’t like the idea of a random group of mercenary musicians meddling with their affairs. So they wanted us to work for them.”
“I suppose this didn’t end up well, considering there’s a price tag on your capture,” stated Gale, who was thoroughly listening to the entire story.
“Well, hardly any interaction with the Zhentarim ends up well. But it is not exactly easy to refuse them, either. Besides, they were too well prepared. They knew about each of us, our fears, ambitions, and desires. They offered exactly what we needed. In Reno’s case, it was more opportunities to grow business, gain fame, and reach places we couldn’t before. He was a very ambitious leader, after all.”
“And in your case?” Gale inquired.
“In my case...” Olifyr sighed. “They offered me access to sussur blooms. It made sense, considering the Zhentarim have enough guts to have operations in the Underdark.”
Sussur. Gale recalled reading about this rare tree native to the Underdark, whose blooms emitted an antimagic field that nullified all forms of magic around it. They were hard to find and even harder to bring to the surface, considering the blooms lost their properties when in contact with the sun or after being much used.
“So they offered you a way out of your magic,” just thinking about it made Gale shiver. He couldn’t stand the thought of living with no magic at all.
“Indeed. And the first time I got a bloom... it was bliss,” Olifyr said, looking at the skies and savoring the memory. “For the first time ever, my mind was my own, and I finally knew what silence meant. For the first time ever, I had no fear and no pain. I could sleep without being confused about what was real or not. I could live! It became like a drug to me, and I only left the blooms’ refuge when my powers were needed.”
“Wait, so you actually worked for the Zhentarim? Forgive my surprise, but I would never have pictured that.“ Seeing the friendly and easygoing bard as a member of a famed unscrupulous mercenary company would take some getting used to.
“Neither would I, I assure you. But then I understood the depths one can go to feel in control. I had to take questionable jobs to keep access to sussur. I did many bad things that I deeply regret. I even purposefully started using my enchantments for some jobs. The irony of it all!“ he threw his hands in the air. “After a long time of fearing my powers, I was actually willing to use them against people for the sake of a temporary respite from the noise, pain, hallucination, and everything else.
“But morals didn’t matter to me at the time. After all, I could sing, perform, and live to my fullest. I was glorious on the stage, and people loved me. And sharing all of this with someone I loved, above all! I was in complete ecstasy. And keeping this was all that mattered.”
Olifyr paused and turned his eyes to the ground, the euphoria leaving his body.
“But as time passed, the Zhent became more demanding and more restricted with payment until they completely cut off my access to sussur. I was growing negligent with my duties, they said.
“As if in a backlash for all the time I tried to nullify it, my abilities grew stronger than ever. My head was fit to explode. I felt excruciating pain and had no idea what was real anymore. It was maddening,” the bard shuddered and covered his ears as if the pure remembrance hurt his head. “I was desperate. Reno wanted me to stay low, but I didn’t listen. I wasn’t strong enough.
“And my despair led me to commit the biggest mistake of my life. I tried to steal from the Zhent. Obviously enough given my sorry state, it didn’t work, and a fight happened. I tried to use my powers to enchant them, but it only got worse. My entire crew was caught in the bloodbath, including...” Olifyr’s voice crackled, “Including Reno.
“I was the sole survivor of our group, and yet all I could do was run away like the coward that I am. Even when I was the cause of this entire mess. It was all my fault, and, by all rights, I am the one who should be dead. Not my friends. Not Reno.
“Instead, I passed the following years traveling in solitude again, hiding from the Zhent and looking for answers on why in the hells I have these damned powers. It was just fair that I could find a way to accomplish it after so many people died because I wanted to get rid of them. Alas, all I have done so far is failing.”
Olifyr breathed heavily as he struggled to hold back his tears. Gale looked at him, silently crushed. Magic had always been his life and font of joy; rather, it was everything to him. Seeing it as a cause for suffering was a new perspective entirely.
But at the same time, one feeling he absorbed from Olifyr’s tale resonated with his own - regret. He never imagined that the bard was hiding such self-loathing behind his carefree entertainer mask. Perhaps this was yet another thing they had in common, after all.
Without noticing, Gale got closer to Olifyr until their shoulders touched.
“I am sorry, Oli. Regret is not a light burden to carry. I know that by experience,” Gale hesitated, careful with his words, “I am sorry about Reno, too. I am sure he was elated to see the tribute you dedicated to him, wherever he is right now.”
“Thank you. This was long ago, and I have followed my path ever since,” Olifyr smiled slightly as he tried to shake off the sadness of the past. “And now maybe I am the one playing the fool here, hoping you don’t hate me after knowing my story or the company I kept.”
“I could never,” Gale smiled back. “Not even the Black Network can sway me to do so.“
“Thank you, truly...” Olifyr looked at Gale, who was so close that the stars could be seen reflected in his dark eyes. “Your tale reminded me of my own mistakes, so I needed to take these feelings out of me. That’s why I came to this clearing tonight. And now that you also know the story of my own folly, I hope you can see how intriguing of a man you are to me, Gale.”
“Oh, intriguing?” Gale smirked. “I do like the sound of that. And you should know I was just now thinking the same of you. How about we indulge each other and see if our observations match?”
“Amusing! Well, first of all, both of us lost everything we cared for because of our mistakes. Our status, our routine, our... sweethearts? If I can even call a goddess like that. However-”
“However, for completely opposite reasons,” Gale reflected, “I wanted more power, and you-”
“And I wanted less,” Olifyr completed. “And yet, everything went wrong all the same. Quite poetic, don’t you think?”
“Indeed. And now here we are, stranded in the middle of nowhere with a tadpole gnawing off our brains. Me, an excuse of an archmage with barely any powers left, a former Chosen shunned by his own goddess and with a ticking time bomb trapped in his chest. You, a bard who listens to voices in his head and has no sense of what reality is, who can’t actually bard without dangerously charming his audience, and who still has a bounty in his head on top of it all,” Gale laughed, “Ah, the lengths which one can fall!”
Olifyr joined the laughter. “We are pathetic! Two broken-hearted gentlemen with a severe case of heartache, headache, magical bombs, involuntary enchantment, and mind flayer tadpoles.”
“Honestly? I’d toast to that,” Gale said as he raised an imaginary glass, and the bard followed suit. “To us!” They toasted with their hands, and Olifyr playfully mimicked the movement of sipping from the imaginary glass of wine.
They kept smiling at each other for a few moments, and the weight of the world felt lighter. They were just there, vulnerable, with nothing to hide anymore. It felt good to have someone to rely on amidst all that ongoing mess.
Gale then thought that perhaps it was time to address another subject that was troubling him. Perhaps he could do more for Olifyr. He wanted to do more for him.
“Olifyr, since you were so kind as to touch on the subject of our differences, I must also say it saddens me how you talk about your magic as if it were a disease to be cured.”
“Well, it causes me pain, it troubles my sleep, it makes me hallucinate, it hurts people, and it takes away all of my sanity. I could hardly think of it otherwise.”
“I know, I know!” exclaimed Gale as he raised his hands. “Forgive me if I gave the impression I was belittling your symptoms. But please, indulge me for a moment. What if the solution to your problem is not to get rid of your magic but to control it? What if we could harness it to your benefit without causing any pain? What you have done with the fireflies is magnificent, a work of art... you shouldn’t be scared of it. You shouldn‘t be scared of using your voice. In fact, the entire world should hear you and embrace your imagination. Then, what if you could have all these blessings without the curse?”
“I appreciate your enthusiasm about my situation, Gale, but I want it to stop more than anything,” Olifyr said. “Besides, I have tried to understand it for years to no avail.”
“Well, but now you have a renowned wizard by your side,” Gale pompously pointed his hands at himself. “You wouldn’t dream of missing this exclusive opportunity.”
“Oh, come on, you are part of the problem, my friend!” Olifyr giggled. “Every time you cast a spell, it is like a drum bursting in my ears!”
“Hah! Do you think I haven‘t noticed you protecting your ears whenever we fight side by side? And still, you let me stay. Very curious.”
“Keep teasing me, and I will change my mind, Mr. Waterdeep,” Olifyr jested.
“No, you won’t,” responded Gale, grinning. “But I have a proposition for you. Besides having yours truly by your side, you now have the means to let people see your mind. Now that we have nothing else to hide, let me see through your eyes and hear through your ears. That way, I can help you better, whether to find a definitive solution or to convince you that magic isn’t as bad as you think.”
The tadpole. All this time, Olifyr has been avoiding using it needlessly. He already had one mysterious power to contend with; he didn’t need another. But he supposed Gale had a point, after all. Perhaps this was the chance he had waited for his entire life, and he wasn’t about to let it slide.
“You can be a very convincing man, you know, Gale of Waterdeep?” Olifyr conceded with a smile, pointing towards his head, “My mind is yours. Be my guest. But a fair word of caution: be careful.”
“I am nothing if not careful. Now, excuse me, saer.”
Their tadpoles connected, and Gale’s thoughts were abruptly engulfed by a cacophony of voices, music, whispers, and singing, all at once and all disorganized. It was complete madness, so deafening that his first instinct was to close his eyes and protect his ears.
Are you alright? I will take it down. Olifyr communicated through the tadpole.
Gale uncovered his ears and signaled Olifyr to wait. No! I can handle it.
He examined his surroundings, struggling to make sense of the chaotic sounds that bombarded his ears. He could hear words spoken in different languages, all blending together in an unintelligible jumble. The discordant mixture of music only added to the overwhelming sensation. It was like being in a library where all the books were read aloud simultaneously, but without following the correct order of the words. It was like hearing every song being sung at the same time and out of rhythm. It was as if all the sounds of the world were converging into one noisy, disjointed mess.
But he noticed that amid all the noise, there was a void of silence right above his chest. Why was that?
In shock, he turned his gaze towards Olifyr. The bard had known about the orb from the start! Olifyr understood the look and nodded, confirming his suspicion. Gale smiled, grateful that the bard had kept the secret despite knowing it all along.
Astonished, he condensed a bit of Weave in his hand and watched as the noises got louder in that direction, responsive to the shift in Weave concentration. He continued to move his hand around, twisting it and casting different simple spells to see how the sounds reacted to them.
During the entire time, Olifyr had been observing Gale with concern, ready to sever the connection if it became too overwhelming. However, he couldn’t help but smile when he saw how entertained the wizard was. It was like watching a child play with a toy for the very first time.
Close your eyes, Gale transmitted. Intrigued, Olifyr did it.
Suddenly, he heard a single point where the noises were louder. But not too loud, just distinctive enough to be perceived amidst the chaos. The sound started moving downwards in a line, leaving behind a trace. Then, it went up again and began moving rightwards. After that, it moved up and down again.
It was like a drawing. No, not drawing. Writing. Gale was writing using the Weave so Olifyr could comprehend it through the noise disturbances. When the disruptions stopped, Olifyr had captured the letters “H”, “E”, “L”, “L”, and “O”.
He opened his eyes and found Gale looking at him with anticipation. He hadn’t expected Gale to get accustomed to the universe in his head so quickly, let alone be so gentle! His gesture flattered him, and a warmness spread through his heart, causing him to show his biggest smile yet.
Olifyr then broke the connection. The cacophony of words and music dwindled inside Gale’s head, being replaced by the chirping of crickets at night. At least for him, the silence was there again.
“I see someone was having fun,” Olifyr teased. “I didn’t expect you to make yourself comfortable so fast.”
“Oh, I told you, I am very good at what I do,” Gale grinned. “I have seen many magic-related things in my life, but your abilities are... fascinating. You were right. You can quite literally hear the Weave. Then, of course, I had fun!” He was still a bit dazed, trying to get used to reality. A slight headache began to bother him, and he massaged his temples. “So this is how you see, or rather, listen to the world? All the time?”
“Yes, since I was a child. And it has gotten worse over the years.” Olifyr did his best to keep up with Gale’s enthusiasm. “Strangely enough, the tadpole seems to be making it... better somehow.”
“Seriously? How so?”
“Everything is still noisy, as you have seen, but it is more bearable than it was before. It also gave me a better grasp of what is real and what is a dream. Besides, sometimes I hear distant words, as if someone was calling for me. Guiding me. I suppose it is one more piece in this entire puzzle.”
“Very interesting... please let me know when that happens. I do like puzzles. And as promised, I will help you understand everything happening inside there,” Gale pointed to Olifyr’s head. “Could it be related to your bloodline?”
“Well, wood elves aren’t really known by their relation with the arcane.”
“But what about your father?”
“I can’t say. I don’t know much about him. All I know is that he was a scholar, a bard, and a knowledge cleric of Oghma.”
Oghma. The God of Knowledge, Ideas and Inspiration. The patron of bards. Gale wondered if Olifyr also followed him. It seemed fitting, at least.
“I suppose your taste for knowledge comes from the family, then?”
“Perhaps,” Olifyr shrugged. “I can’t deny that much of what I am is a legacy from my father. Alas, I don’t have much to say about him. My mother did complain that I was becoming too much like him, though. Hah! Come to think of it, I guess even that old hag isn’t immune to a broken heart. But are you done with your interrogation? The way this is going, I won’t be able to maintain my charming and mysterious persona around you anymore.”
“I must remind you that every research begins with leveraging hypotheses about the subject. That is what I am doing.”
“Excuse me? So am I a research subject for you now?”
“Well, it is through research that we find progress. Don’t you want to understand your magic?” Gale smirked. “Besides, you should be happy to be a research subject for Gale of Waterdeep. It is a remarkably distinctive title”.
“I am seriously reconsidering all of my decisions right now. Perhaps I should have let Lae’zel cast you out,” Olifyr adjusted his posture to deliver his best Lae’zel impersonation. “Chk! You thrice-damned rotten bastard!”
“Ouch! That was so uncalled for!” Gale laughed.
“But you must admit, she was very inspired,” Olifyr was radiant, “I took notes of that. Don’t make me use them.”
“Ok, I admit!” Gale raised his hands in defeat. “It was probably deserved. But I will do my best not to disappoint my research subject, I mean, friend, so I never have to hear those four extremely discourteous words ever again.”
They looked at each other with shining eyes and laughing lips. But there was something else there - an indescribable feeling they could not put into words, no matter how eloquent they were. Still, they tried.
“In all seriousness, I now understand how much pain you feel all the time, Oli. Just these few minutes of connection were enough to make me sense it. I know I am not in good shape either, but I will help you. I any way I can.“
“So will I, Gale. I also know how the orb pains you. You can count on me to help you find a solution. I won’t let you go, alright?“
They shook hands, keeping eye contact for who knows how long. A few seconds. A few minutes. It could have been forever.
Gale couldn’t help but focus on Olifyr’s face. It was tanned and adorned with freckles. Despite carrying the weathered marks of someone who had traveled extensively and lived a thousand different adventures, it was delicate, almost fragile.
His long golden hair was the perfect frame for it. It flowed suavely through his pointy half-elf ears ornamented with several piercings. Small creases marked his cheeks as he smiled. His light green eyes shone with curiosity, with a sense of distraction proper to someone who carried an entire particular universe behind them. He was... beautiful.
Perceiving Gale’s stare, Olifyr felt his blood boil, and his heart accelerate. Gale’s heart wasn’t faring any better either. He broke the eye contact and coughed, trying to focus his mind elsewhere.
The bard let go of Gale’s hand and turned around to get his lyre. Whatever had just happened was another trick of his imagination, certainly. But if that was the case, why was his face burning?
“Perhaps we should return to camp. Dawn will break soon, and we still haven’t rested in the slightest,” he suggested.
“Wait,” Gale raised his hands to stop him. “I have one more question.”
“Sure. Ask away.”
“Can you sing again?”
“Oh?” Olifyr wasn’t expecting that, “Is it for research or because you like my beautiful voice?”
“Unfortunately, I can’t answer that. I don’t want to bias the experiments, after all.”
“Cheeky! But Gale, I don’t want to enchant you.”
“It might be too late for that. You ‘lured me like a harpy’, remember?”
“It could be dangerous.”
“If it happens, I can handle it. Please, I don’t want to go back to camp. Not just yet.”
“Alright. I suppose I... I don’t want to go back either,” Olifyr kindly smiled and then bowed. “Per the audience’s request!”
The bard began to play a melody on his lyre, his fingers gently plucking its strings, transforming all of his restlessness into music. All the voices in his head aligned to make the perfect lyrics. His eyes started glowing in violet, and he felt the magic surrounding him. But for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel fear.
He felt hope.
“Gale,” he said delicately, looking at the lyre while he played. His long hair covered his face, and he hoped the redness of his cheeks was not visible in the dark of the night. “I still haven’t told you the fifth reason why I let you stay.”
“I am listening,” Gale replied.
“I enjoy your company. A lot. I... don’t want you to die, too.”
Gale smiled and pressed his hand against the orb, trying to calm his breath and heart.
“Thank you. For everything. I am doing my best.”
Olifyr smiled back and closed his eyes, peacefully drifting away to the universe of his music.
“Fireflies weave stories in the night
A tapestry of memories, glowing so bright
The hues may change, but love remains
Nascent feelings, breaking our chains
“Fireflies, lanterns of the night
Guiding the way with their gentle light
As the melody of memories takes flight
In the canvas of stars, our story ignites.”
As the fireflies swarmed around them again, shining colorfully, Gale knew the Olifyr’s magic was at work. But he didn’t care. Perhaps he had been charmed all along, magically or not.
He looked at the bard’s peaceful countenance and smiled. Just a few hours before, he had been brooding in the unbearable silence of his own tent. But now, silence was nowhere to be found. The night was filled with chatter, music, laughter, magic, and countless indecipherable and chaotic voices. In fact, it had become the noisiest night he had ever experienced.
And his heart was all the lighter for that.