Chapter Text

EDIT: I've added another 4+ pages of writing to this chapter. I also made some changes to the first text to show some lore I've figured out for Elisedd since I posted yesterday.

A Glimpse of Your World

Ch 1: Wizard Lessons

Elisedd leaned back against the cave stone and breathed slowly in relief. Somehow, he’d kept his fellow adventurers alive against the phase spiders. His voice and lute carried them through battle and eased their wounds, then when things looked particularly bad, a quick prayer to Corellon blessed the party until they were victorious. Elisedd was exhausted from the experience. A distant part of him recognized that he’d used the powers a cleric might have. He felt no excitement or pride in his work though.

He’d felt so useless out there, always missing shots with his bow or stabs of his rapier. He’d never excelled at physical combat. And as for the magical… Elisedd had given up on wizardry years ago. He was beginning to understand bardic powers through sheer force of will that he, too, would soothe souls and lift spirits with imagination. His mother’s voice echoed in his mind again, adding to his self-inflicted misery. Art has no use in your stunted lifespan. Now focus, you can cast a simple fire bolt if you just apply yourself.

Elisedd winced at the memory; the only cantrip that he ever managed to cast was Friends. Even when he managed that, people often grew angry with him the moment it wore off, rightly accusing him of charming them, such was his clumsy spellcasting ability. Those in the lake ward of Myth Drannor highly valued magical study and practice, and Elisedd’s parents were no exception. They were both accomplished wizards in their own areas. They’d met through their related arcane research and were married before their studies concluded.

Elisedd had wanted to be like his human father once. His dad had done so much in his human lifespan; he’d cast spells with ease and spend long hours helping rebuild and renew the reclaimed city. Elisedd studied and learned and thought he understood so much of the arcane, yet he couldn’t perform it. His mother didn’t believe he studied at all, for she worked hard and gained her prestige despite her half aquatic-elf heritage dampening the inherent arcane gifts of the high elves. Meanwhile Elisedd would struggle to get his movements correct, to memorize the incantations, or to feel the Weave surrounding them even for the most basic spells. The best he’d ever managed to do was write a level III spell scroll which his mother had to infuse with magic on his behalf. The teachers at The Irithlium shared her opinion of him. If he would just apply himself, they’d say, all while Elisedd worked as hard as he knew how. Eventually, he quit his studies and left his kin behind.

These days, this half-elf merely wished to bring solace and comfort to others, as the world-traveled bards of Myth Drannor did, but that dream seemed further than ever with the mind flayer tadpole writhing behind his eye. Well, maybe not that far. He remembered Alfira, and his lips softened into a small smile. She inspired him just as much as he had inspired her. Elisedd wanted to create those bonds with many more. It was a glimpse of his dream that made its probable failure ache even more. Would he ever reach Baldur’s Gate again? And if he did, would he even have a soul left to sing with? You’re closer to the city now than you were in Cormanthor Forest, he reminded himself. It did little to ease his mind. Before he had his whole life ahead of him, but now his time was limited.

A familiar flash caught his eye, and he turned his hazel gaze to the source. It was Gale, the wizard of ‘considerable talent.’ Elisedd found him equal parts charming and infuriating. This human had more magical talent in his pinkie than the half-elf did in his entire body. So while Elisedd reveled in Gale’s enthusiasm, curiosity, and passion, he couldn’t help feeling bitter and envious at his companion’s earned arrogance. But Gale usually didn’t cast idle spells, at least no more than was required to prepare the food.

Elisedd let the soft purple glow draw him in while he observed the human. He drowned out his thoughts and worries in the wizard’s conjured object, floating gently above an outstretched palm. The half-elf sat up as he began to make out its shape. It was a bust – quite gracefully sculpted by the looks of it – but of who?

Elisedd realized who Gale had conjured at the same time he noticed he’d stood and walked over for a closer look. "Ah, Mystra. The matron of magic herself." His words were neutral, if a little dejected. "An ambitious desire indeed, to hold her in your hands."

Gale’s voice made Elisedd jump nearly as much as he had, apparently, spooked the wizard. "Oh! My, you startled me." As Gale waved Mystra’s countenance away, Elisedd moved in front of the wizard, a few feet away. "I… I was miles away."

Elisedd’s eyebrow rose when he saw the human’s expression. The man almost seemed… embarrassed. Elisedd didn’t consciously decide to settle and speak with Gale, but there he leaned on one leg and crossed his arms, casually curious and looking for answers. He asked, "Care to tell me why you were conjuring an image of the goddess?"

“For the seldom purpose of prayer,” Gale responded. His face betrayed his internal conflict, earnest in a way the half-elf hadn’t seen before. "Mystra commands all magic. Salvation, if such a thing exists, is hers to bestow or withhold. And yet, even now, more than I fear losing my own self and soul, I fear losing my command of her art."

Elisedd blinked. He knew Gale’s condition was important to manage, but it surprised him to hear that the wizard’s self, soul, and spellcasting ability were all at risk.

And Gale continued to speak, words pouring out as if they’d been held behind a broken dam. "Magic is… my life." Elisedd took in the magnitude of his tone, desperation mixing and then giving way to passion, then Gale’s brown eyes gleamed with fervor, love of his craft. "I’ve been in touch with the Weave for as long as I can remember. There’s nothing like it. It’s like music, poetry, and physical beauty all rolled into one and given expression through the senses."

Elisedd’s own heart began to spark with the wonder of wizardry. Was this how the study and practice of magic was supposed to feel? Was this how most practitioners of wizardry viewed Mystra’s art? His own parents had sat huddled seriously over their tomes and experiments, at solving problems which arose in magical practice. They were invested in the puzzle of magic. Gale was enamored with the whole of magic, of the Weave.

Gale paused and gestured towards his conversation partner. "Is it the same for you?"

Elisedd flinched. How did Gale know he’d tried to learn Mystra’s magic years ago? Then his muscles relaxed again. He means my bardic magic. It was the only thing Gale had seen him do after all. Well that and, apparently, lead this unlikely group of theirs. How that became his role, Elisedd had no clue. He spoke a generic, novice’s description of bardic magic, "Magic is music, poetry, and beauty. Though I suspect you and I perform it differently." The half-elf was surprised by his own sincerity. The magic that he knew was that of a moving song, a gripping tale, a carefully laid sonnet, and a painting, each beautiful in their own ways. The way the arts move the heart and soul, that was the magic Elisedd felt inside himself.

Gale barely managed to contain a laugh, and Elisedd smiled. Yes, Gale had described magic as the entire profession of bards. "Fair enough – though in the end we’re still playing the same composition," he replied.

This gave Elisedd pause. He tried to hide his shock by rapidly tucking a curl of teal and brown behind his ear. His bardic studies… and wizardry practices… were the same? He could nearly hear his mother now, That bard thing barely qualifies as magic. Real magic involves careful, calculated practice, not some freeflow ‘creative’ shlock.

He placed a hand to smooth over his goatee but too late to hide the dispirited look that took over his face. Gale seemed almost hurried with his next words, or maybe he was simply eager. "Perhaps I can show you what I mean by reaching into the Weave together."

Elisedd looked again at his companion, friend even. Gale was smiling with encouragement, a hand noncommittally stretched out in offering. Elisedd could see Gale’s hope and anticipation, and it made his chest feel tight. Would Gale be disappointed when the bard could not evoke a puff of smoke, let alone channel the Weave? What if he, too, withdrew from Elisedd, told him he clearly wasn’t focused enough if the magic failed?

But this was Gale, and what he spoke of doing was high-level magic. Gale did not believe Elisedd had any background in wizardry, so of course the human would act as the conduit, not the half-elf.

Nervously, Elisedd nodded. "By all means."

Gale brightened with a confident grin. "Then follow my lead." Elisedd’s eyes followed the human as he walked over to the half-elf and stepped slightly behind him.

Elisedd felt the familiar tickle over his skin as Gale focused on the spell, pulling the Weave gently to his will. He waved his arms and hands with big, sweeping yet smooth motions and sent a ball of sparkling purple in front of them to glisten and shine. Elisedd’s eyes lit up, despite his history with the arcane. Magic was, well, magical. He was reminded of stormy days spent inside as a very young lad, his older siblings putting on a light show to delight the whole family.

When Elisedd’s mind returned to the present, he found Gale watching him, playful and delighted. "Now you," the wizard instructed, gesturing in front of them with his hand.

Elisedd’s eyes widened, anxiety crawling in his gut and pulling on his chest. Gale simply smiled at him. Elisedd took a deep breath, and thought carefully about the movements he needed to imitate. Slowly, as precisely as he could, he mimicked the wizard’s motions, although he felt the telltale jerks of unprepared spellcasting, of a novice. He was shocked when the same lights, the same sparkling purple appeared in front of him.

The half-elf stumbled despite how firmly his feet were planted before. Did… did that really just happen? The most rare sensation washed over him. The Weave. It felt somehow different than he remembered it. This was comfortable, warm, not the overwhelming and intimidating feeling that he was used to.

"Excellent. Now repeat after me: Ah-Thran Mystra-Ryl Kantrach-Ao."

Elisedd spoke the words with purpose and reverence. He could feel the power bubbling within them. Then, the magic sparked in front of them again, and something sweet danced along the bard’s tongue. It felt familiar, though he struggled to remember where from. His tension washed away as a simple sense of good, of well-being, soaked into his body, mind, and soul. He smiled, growing excited now. He’d managed the first steps, the initial sparks. This was more than he’d ever managed before, and it thrilled him. He turned to Gale again, eyes aglow and chest lighter than it’d been for days, maybe even years.

Gale was bent slightly forward with anticipation, just as elated as his student. He returned Elisedd’s gaze and said "Very good. Now I want you to picture in your mind the concept of harmony. As true as you can."

The pair turned in tandem to look at where their balls of light had shown moments earlier. Harmony? Harmony is simple. Elisedd could hear and feel harmony, the clash and resolution of differing music notes, ideas, and voices. The way a tavern broke into drunken songs, as well as the precise playing of a concert. Harmony was everywhere, every clash and connection, every push and pull, every joining of intention. Harmony was in this very moment, casting a spell alongside a new friend.

The magic brightened before Elisedd opened his eyes again, and he stepped back instinctively. He looked down at his right hand; it had brushed against something when he moved. He’d brushed hands with Gale. Elisedd met the wizard’s gaze and then turned away with a sheepish smile, to watch the light show they made together.

The sparkling purple dissipated then swirled into a gentle mist that circled the pair. For the first time – perhaps the first time ever – Elisedd felt safe. Truly safe. The kind of safe that quiets the mind and eases the aching bones. The safe that’s felt when you’re protected and loved. He breathed a small gasp as he recognized the presence of Mystra. He’d long believed Mystra had forsaken him. For what, he couldn’t fathom, but he had no explanation for his failures otherwise. But here she was. Cradling him. Warming him. Wrapping him in a soft swaddle of Weave. The magic sparked through him, bringing a sense of anticipation. He turned to Gale, nearly ready to say something but lost his words as he saw the human was turning to face him, too.

Elisedd lost himself in Gale’s brown eyes. They had a much richer color than he’d realized before; they were a deep earthy color with brush strokes of a soft orange, like sunlight dappling a forest floor. Elisedd felt his smile grow wider, his breaths quicken, his heart thump-thump-thump. He looked away, suddenly bashful after brazenly admiring Gale’s eyes. He busied himself with studying the waving purple mist that encircled them. The bard had never seen magic like this before.

He heard Gale huff, thrilled and nearly laughing with joy only restrained by reverence. "You did it. You’re channeling the Weave. How does it feel?"

Elisedd felt Gale’s excitement even stronger now, almost like their minds were resonating, but their tadpoles were blissfully quiet. It was but a few moments since they’d begun the spell, yet Elisedd had felt so many emotions that had been out of reach. "Magical," he responded. With a breath he added, "Sensual, even."

He could see Gale’s open mouthed smile without having to look. "That it does."

They both turned in place and absorbed their surroundings, enraptured. This was a dark, gloomy cave, but with the circling Weave, it could have been the Feywild.

Elisedd settled his gaze on Gale just a fraction of a moment before the wizard did the same to him. They both smiled peacefully, drinking in the wonderful moment, content to just look at one another.

Elisedd realized that his hold on the Weave was slipping, and his mind quickly picked it back up. Harmony. Harmony. Somehow that picture had changed in his mind’s eye. The harmony of music felt incomplete without company at his side. Without Gale.

They kept eye contact. It felt intimate… It felt like everything he needed that night. Gale’s enjoying this, too, he thought. Then Elisedd realized the Weave connected them now in a way much much different than their tadpoles. It was making them… one.

The half-elf took a step forward and leaned in with one shoulder, emboldened by knowing Gale’s emotions, and the wizard mimicked him. His gaze was warm, inviting. He wanted Gale to know what he felt, too, wanted him to see the warmth that was filling Elisedd’s chest. His goatee stretched with a wider, mischievous grin as his mind painted a scene to share with Gale.

It was truly a scene out of a bard’s fantastical mind, too perfect to be true. The two of them walked side by side next to a bubbling stream as wildflowers and trees swayed gently around them. Calm birdsong drifted along the breeze, and butterflies fluttered among flowering bushes. They were holding hands. As a finale, Elisedd pictured pausing, lifting up their entwined hands, and kissing the back of Gale’s.

In reality, in the safety of the swirling Weave, Gale looked unsure, surprised. "I…" His head tilted far to the side, looking at the new puzzle in front of him. "I didn’t think…"

The wizard leaned forward and slouched slightly, looking up at the bard with nervous, almost pleading eyes. "Sorry, I wasn’t expecting…" Gale shook his head and scrunched up his face – Elisedd could sense his embarrassment, his trepidation – before smiling up at Elisedd again. "But it is a pleasant image to be sure!" Gale began to relax and slowly straightened his posture. Elisedd was relieved and delighted to feel elation from Gale at last, although he would be able to tell even without the Weave connecting them. The wizard’s smile bloomed with warmth; his confidence returned in a blink. "Most pleasant, in fact. Most welcome."

They stood like that for some time. It felt natural as they looked into each other’s souls with gentle smiles. There was no expectation in this moment. No pressure. They quietly rejoiced at knowing the other shared their desire.

The sharp, cold air of the cave cut through the moment like a knife. The Weave evaporated away like fog in the sun. The spell was complete. The magic was finished. Elisedd shivered as he suddenly felt alone, vulnerable. He watched Gale draw into himself, standing stiffly now and gazing after the lost mist. The human man felt worlds away now.

"There it goes." Gale’s voice was nearly a whisper. Reality was crashing down on them both, and Elisedd wished he knew what weighed so heavily on his friend’s shoulders. Friend? Is that the right word? Elisedd decided it was the right word, at least for now. Perhaps he’d gotten carried away.

Gale’s voice shook slightly as he continued, "How easily things slip away from us, no matter how hard they were in the obtaining." The wizard and bard locked eyes again. Elisedd’s emotions always showed clear as day on his face when he acted as himself, and it had been a long day. He was sure Gale noticed his concerns and questions. The half-elf didn’t dare step further though, suddenly terrified. Gale seemed frightened. Was Elisedd too eager? Too open? Was he scaring off his friend with the sheer intensity of his emotions? Others had regularly commented on how strong Elisedd reacted, or how pressured they felt by the strength of his feelings. His mom said the same. That he was too emotional. That his feelings were too much.

Gale gave him an easy smile and said, "Good night. I enjoyed sharing a moment of magic with you."

Elisedd longed to close the distance between them, but Gale was stepping away, slowly walking backwards to the safety of his tent. The human looked… sad. Like he’d found something he wanted but couldn’t have, yet his eyes were still warm. Elisedd held his gaze for some moments longer, until his confused heart couldn’t stand it anymore. He smiled back at Gale and then walked to his bedroll. What had upset the wizard so? Elisedd wished he could comfort his friend, soothe his sorrows, and ease his mind. But he knew that it was up to Gale to seek it. He couldn’t force it.

Elisedd curled up to sleep thinking of the image he’d shown Gale through the Weave. In his dreams they sat together under a tree in the warm sun, cuddling on occasion, giving light kisses wherever their head happened to be near. And for the second time, Elisedd felt safe.

____

The morning went quietly. Routinely. Each moment was so regular, that last night seemed to be fantasy. Elisedd quietly questioned if it had happened at all. He sat facing Gale’s tent and held his armor high in front of him to check for any breaks or holes, all the while stealing glances at the wizard. He hoped to see any sign that their spell lesson was real, but Gale simply grimaced at dirt and stains on his robes and wicked them away with whispered words and hand waves.

"Elisedd, what’s this nonsense about you being a cleric now?" The bard turned and blinked to see Karlach, emphatic and excited, and Shadowheart with her doubtful, quizzical face. The Shar worshiper’s words were sharp as always, but also curious, withholding judgment.

"I’m serious," Karlach insisted. "He didn’t play a tune, but suddenly we were all blessed."

"Obviously he didn’t play a tune, blessings don’t come from songs," Shadowheart responded to Karlach before looking at her fellow half-elf again, waiting for an answer.

Elisedd had nearly forgotten about that detail from yesterday. It was just as much a surprise to him as it was to the others. "I’m not sure. Things were tight, tough, so I said a prayer to Corellon. Then Karlach, Gale, and Wyll began to glow," he recounted. “I didn’t have time to think on it further."

Shadowheart frowned, her dark brows pulling together in thought. "I didn’t realize you were faithful to Corellon Larethian."

"I don’t know that I am. I just… couldn’t stand the thought of any of us dying." Elisedd stared at his lap. "Life is important. Our lives are important. I was desperate. I don’t know how to describe it."

"Wow, soldier. Never thought I’d see you have trouble with words," Karlach grinned at him, her eyes teasing. "You’re more of a ramble-on-forever type. You and Gale."

Elisedd looked up at her and then stared blankly ahead. "None of you are dying. Not if I have any say in the matter," he murmured.

Shadowheart shoved Elisedd’s head back gently, rustling his thicket of loose curled hair and bringing him back to himself. "Welcome to clerichood. Be sure to give thanks to the Father of Elvenkind now and again. Or don’t." She shrugged and turned to strap another piece of armor on herself. As she went, the half-elf added, "You choose whether it’s right for you or not." Karlach smiled at him before she, too, returned to her gear.

Elisedd frowned with the ideas they left with him. A cleric… channeling divine energy? He traced the shaped silver of his pendant, the crescent moon of Corellon and the star of Mystra it cradled. If any god were to support him with power, he’d have thought it was Oghma, the patron of bards. Then again, The Binder of What Is Known didn’t exactly care for lives but for the inspiration, invention, and preservation of knowledge. He passed no judgment on the morality of such knowledge and creation; it is enough to pursue the ideal of knowledge for its own sake. Yet Elisedd believed in doing more, in using knowledge and stories to help lives, and he wanted to protect others, too, wherever he could. He wanted to do good in the world.

Faith itself had never been important to Elisedd. When he thought about worship, he had many he’d like to honor in some way. Corellon was a given. Quick prayers to Him rolled off the tongues of all elves, whether in Myth Drannor or not; they were practically part of his dialect of Common. But his kin were also dedicated to Mystra. Much like Gale, they thanked Her for the Weave and saw Her presence all around them. And then there was the matter of Elisedd’s maternal grandfather, the rare aquatic elf with a talent for the arcane. He didn’t visit much because he lived in the depths of Lake Sember. Elisedd only barely remembered meeting him as a child, but grandfather shared the ways of Deep Sashelas, the Dolphin Prince, Lord of the Undersea. His grandfather’s deity was why his pendant encased an aquamarine stone. Mystra and Deep Sashelas shared an affinity for knowledge, but Corellon, the Protector, was a mage, a bard, and a warrior. If Elisedd thought about it… it was no surprise that Corellon, if not his consciously chosen god, was closest to representing his personal ideals.

So the half-elf bard – and now cleric, apparently – bowed his head, closed his eyes, and prayed. Corellon, Preserver of Life, thank you for protecting my companions. And me, too, I suppose. He then hurriedly finished readying for the day; the others were waiting for him.

Elisedd smiled at the sound of happy barking. "Here you are, ol’ Scratch," he heard Gale say, followed by enthusiastic slobbering noises, Scratch chewing on whatever meat the wizard had laid down for him. With one last tug on his belt, the half-elf walked to serve himself whatever delicious slop Gale had prepared for this breakfast.

"Good morning," Gale said cheerily as he scooped out a serving of grits with eggs and sausage.

"Yes, good morning indeed." Elisedd gratefully took the bowl and sat nearby. Most of the party had gathered further away from the campfire, tired of smoke they’d already breathed through the night. Astarion scrunched up his face, disdainful of something Karlach said. Her heart glowed a bit stronger as she laughed at the vampire spawn’s reaction, and that was plenty of cause for Astarion to roll his eyes and turn away from the group at large. Lae’zel appeared mildly confused though unperturbed. Must have been something to do with the city, then. The lot of them were having fun. Elisedd chuckled to himself as he noticed Astarion’s attention was still on the others despite efforts to hide it.

Gale sat nearby with a bowl of his own in hand. He leaned slightly towards Elisedd before saying, "What’s on your mind?"

Elisedd put down his next spoonful and gestured toward the others. "Just watching them. Astarion works so hard to be aloof, but he has yet to walk away." Another bite of grits. The half-elf relished in the taste, noting the Waterdhavian cheese rounding out the dish’s flavor. Not for the first time, he thought, Gale is a great cook.

"I meant –" Gale paused. "– more generally, what’s on your mind? You looked rather serious while you donned armor."

The half-elf finally focused on the human at his side, rather than the other five members of their troupe. "Ah, that," Elisedd remarked and set his bowl down for a moment. "Just –" No, not just. He’d had lots on his mind that morning, from his… bond with Gale to his personal beliefs and abilities, to his past, and to his old home. He stared at the shapes of the cave floor, clasped his long fingers together, and rubbed his thumbs. "Mostly yesterday," he answered finally.

Gale cleared his throat a little. "Are you referring to–"

"When I blessed the party in battle yesterday," Elisedd interrupted. He wasn’t sure he was ready to hear his thoughts about last night, assuming any of it had happened. He thought it did. His heart fearfully tried to convince him it didn’t.

"Right, yes. I haven’t seen you do that before. Is this new?" The wizard followed the bard’s lead, and Elisedd was grateful.

"Yeah, I’ve never blessed anyone before. I wouldn’t even consider myself a man of faith per say, but yesterday I pleaded to Corellon, asked him to protect you all, like a reflex."

"And the Father of Elvenkind answered," Gale finished the story for him.

Elisedd nodded and gulped. "Right. Shadowheart agreed… it seems I’m also a cleric now." He breathed out slowly.

"So Corellon approves. He sees your efforts and thinks them worthy of his support."

"It’s so much pressure," the bard blurted out. He’d spent his whole life in neutrality with the gods; it startled him that they’d taken notice. "Corellon at the battle, then Mystra last night, I’ve never had gods respond. Especially not Mystra." He couldn’t hide his bitter tone at the end. He had been ignored all these years, a failure to his parents’ legacy. So why did the Lady of Mysteries suddenly reveal herself, grace him with a small sliver of her presence?

"Well, Mystra can hardly be a surprise," Gale spoke matter-of-factly. "It’s not often that non-wizards take notice of her, not to mention her presence in the Weave around us. You’ve had a unique opportunity."

"You’re wrong." Elisedd argued before he even thought. "I’ve tried my whole life. I sought her guidance, I studied her art, I learned what I was supposed to, I worked hard under the professors’ tutelage, but never did I even manage a fire bolt. Occasionally I can use ‘Friends’ but it’s clumsy. The target always notices the charm, and I end up worse off than before." His hands pushed his hair back and gripped with his frustration. Suddenly, the half-elf stopped and picked up his bowl, and he looked shamefully over at Gale. "I’ve always struggled. I didn’t know casting a wizard spell could be so easy."

Gale frowned. "I assure you it is not." Elisedd felt the icy grip of anxiety seize his chest again. When will I learn? he wondered. Wizards would not believe his tale.

"Don’t get me wrong, you did well!" Elisedd winced at his friend’s patronizing tone. The half-elf didn’t believe Gale's compliment for a second. "The somatic component, the verbal component, even the focus on the inner self that invites Mystra in."

But…

"But I was still your conduit." There it was. "To perform such a feat alone requires much and arduous study,” Gale explained. “Yet it is life's most worthy pursuit in my impartial if not humble opinion." Elisedd had heard these sentiments for decades now. It wasn’t anything new, but the hurt felt fresh.

"Of course, as a cleric, your patron deity endows you with many such powers otherwise unattainable. I do hope you cherish that gift."

Elisedd looked at him again with surprise. He… he didn’t think less of Elisedd’s ability. But the expression the human wore worried Elisedd. There was a frustration within the confident bluster, the easy smile. "I… I’m sorry," the bard spoke once more.

"Whatever are you sorry for?"

Elisedd paused to reflect a little longer. "I didn’t mean to brush off your efforts. Or your skills." He sighed. "I only agreed to perform the spell because I knew you’d be the conduit. I’m far more familiar with the arcane, with Mystra, than I’ve let on so far. With all my study, I knew the spell had to be done through you. It would have failed spectacularly if my own talents were involved. Besides, it’s far more advanced magic than I ever tried to practice." The half-elf stirred the spoon in his bowl, watching the grains of corn churn and settle. He was still disappointed, having confirmed that Gale was the reason the spell succeeded. Part of Elisedd still hoped his own magical talent was just waiting to be found.

"I see. Well, no need for apologies. I know my brilliance." Gale smirked, brimming with that confidence that Elisedd enjoyed and hated.

They sat comfortably for a while and finished their meals, but Elisedd’s mind still wandered. In the midst of his emotions, he entirely forgot his uncertainty of last night’s events. Now he was sure it was real, but that left the far more frightening question: where did that leave him and Gale?

Silently, they both stood and started cleaning the bowls together. A bit of water from a jug, a sponge that had seen better days, and their least soiled rags washing the meal away. Finally, Elisedd cleared his throat. "So what did you think about what I pictured when we were connected by the Weave?" he asked quickly, before he lost his nerve.

Gale casually picked up Elisedd’s bowl and returned it to the camp chest. "Oh, I was surprised," he said, then met the bard’s gaze. He leaned forward, and his hands emphasized his words. "But pleasantly so, just like I said.

"Amid the madness that has befallen us, it seems almost out of place to think of a romantic walk. And yet, now more than ever, it’s important to recall what makes us human," he paused, and his eyes flickered to Elisedd’s pointed ears and back to his eyes. "Well – you know what I mean."

Elisedd raised an eyebrow, tilted his head, and crossed his arms. Where was Gale going with this?

The human’s face lit up, as though telling a wondrous tale. "A stolen glance – that sudden heartbeat…" He smiled at Elisedd. The bard fancied it a knowing smirk. "Sometimes the little things are worth more than kingdoms." Gale leaned in a little further. "They promise things to come."

Elisedd straightened, then tilted his head again. Things to come… Did that mean between them, or romance more broadly? He searched for answers in those rich brown eyes, but Gale was finished speaking, and his expression remained a passive grin. Finally, Elisedd nodded a good-bye and walked off. It was time to press ahead in their travels.