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“You may not wish to enter the heavens, but you do a fine job conjuring them here,” He said.
Then he was gone, again. The God of Ambition, formerly Gale of Waterdeep, formerly Gale Dekarios. Somewhere in there had been a man who you loved dearly, but there was no trace of him now. Only a faint scent remained, like rosewater and old parchment. It was the same one that stuck to your pillow and sheets and the bed that you shared until recently, the scent that hung around you like smoke. The scent that could never really be washed away.
For the first few nights, when you were falling asleep and in that space between dream and wake, it was almost like he was still there. But when you reached out, you were met with the realization that you were alone yet again.
So you moved on.
The best you could, at least. You dove into work that you were passionate about as a historian of ancient poetry, translating what you could, but primarily focused on seeking out old texts to verify their authenticity. It was quiet, solitary work that often brought you to small and dark rooms with only your heartbeat as company.
One of your recent interests was the poet Copperbloom, whose complete works were rumored to be hidden at one of the libraries in Amn. Of course, Gale had told you about the temple being built in his honor, and there was word about its splendor the further you ventured into the city. He had spoken of it as such a prized accomplishment, and you wondered whether it would be worth giving up your humanity for it.
On your first afternoon in the city, you saw the temple dedicated to the God of Ambition. It would have been harder for you to avoid it, given that it was not only the largest building in the city, but the largest building that you had ever seen. It was a sprawling temple, giant marble pillars adorning its exterior that stood as a testament to mortal ambition. Like a magnetic force pushing you through, you walked in, taking in the sights of sparkling white floors and rich purple fabric draped wherever you looked. It was so clean that you were afraid your mere presence was a mark on its face. You half expected one of the many patrons to clean up after you as you walked, wiping your shoeprints from the floor with each step. But they kept a kind distance, gently gesturing you toward the altar in the center of the temple.
You looked at the altar of Gale. It was a looming, giant sculpture that looked both like him and unlike him. It was like a sculpture based on a painting that was based on a picture someone else painted of Gale. The features were generally right and it was unmistakably him, but this godly depiction was missing his warmth. There was also something about the eyes and the smile that was inconsistent to you, as though he was smiling at something painful. You couldn't tell if the expression was smiling to hide some forlorn pain, or smiling because of it.
Your eyes closed, and the scent of rosewater and parchment wafted around you. Here in this temple, it made sense that he felt so close. You felt that if you opened your eyes, you might see Gale - the real Gale, the one you had loved - standing in front of you. He would give you a little bow and say something about how this temple, though marvelous, was a little gaudy, wasn't it? Then you would leave together and go live the life that you wanted to live with him. It wouldn't have been spectacular, and it would have been mortal, but it would have been enough for you. Obviously, it wouldn't have been for him. This realization was enough to break your heart again, but months of waking up alone had shattered it beyond repair. What else could you lose at this point? There was nothing left.
You held a coin in your hand, ready to make an offering to the embodiment of ambition, when you heard a voice from behind you.
“Excuse me,” it said.
You turned, meeting the eyes of a handsome young elf with curly hair and eyes as green as the trees in Emerald Grove.
“Is that a book of Copperbloom’s poetry you’re holding?” He asked.
“Yes, it is,” You replied.
He told you that his name was Adlar, and that he was a fan of Copperbloom’s poetry. Excitement radiated from him, his eyes bright and alert when he told you that he was raised among the trees, and that Copperbloom eloquently captured the beauty of nature in a way that so few could. You slid the coin back into your pocket, enamored by the creature in front of you. He was awkward, sure, but a welcome distraction from your self-imposed isolation. For the first time since Gale had left, you yearned to connect with another person, to have someone who could make you feel happy.
“Would you like to talk about this somewhere more private?” You asked.
“I--Yes, I would like that very much. There’s a tavern around the corner if you’d like to have a drink,” He replied.
So you walked out of the Temple of Ambition with the handsome young elf on your arm, who chattered your ear off the entire way. You learned quite a bit about Adlar - that he had three siblings, that he knew how to play the lute, and that he hated the taste of wine but enjoyed a good ale after a hard day's work. You could feel the ice around your heart begin to melt. You had forgotten how pleasant it could be just to talk to someone. After exchanging pleasantries about poetry, the basics of who you are, and where you’re from, he asked if you were a devotee of Gale.
“No, I’m not. Are you?” You asked.
“Oh, yes, absolutely,” He replied, “He has given me everything. Before I learned of his doctrine, I was lost. Wandering around, wasting my potential. But now I have a purpose. I helped to build the temple, you know. And I’m leading the expansion.”
“An expansion? It’s already the largest building in the city,” You remarked.
“Yes, it is going to be the largest building in the realm if I have anything to say about it. That’s the beautiful thing about ambition. It led me out of the forest and into places I had never even heard of or dreamt I could be. Like here,” He said, tentatively reaching for your hand. You allowed it. His skin was sun-kissed and soft to the touch. They were the hands of someone who knew how to build but never touched a tool themselves. Adlar was the first person you touched since your electric goodbye kiss with a deity. Well, other than crying into Shadowheart’s arms for as long as she would let you.
And so you began a love affair with the handsome young elf, slipping into a summer routine of balmy nights cooled by morning tea on the terrace, then separating to do a day’s work. You, toiling around libraries and bookshops in search of poems, and he leading the expansion in the temple. For the first time in a long while, you felt the comfort of a routine and a home. It was the kind of mundane that you had hoped to share with Gale, but you could slowly feel thoughts of him slipping away with each pint of ale shared or kiss exchanged with your new lover.
But you still smelled rosewater and parchment lingering on you no matter how hard you tried to wash it away. At some point, the lingering scent no longer felt comforting and felt it was going to suffocate you. You were desperate to be rid of it. So you threw out your old clothes and items, ready to start something new in your new home. It was supposed to symbolize starting a new life. It may not be a perfect life, you thought, and it may not have the magic of the Weave, but it could be yours.
Well, until your dreams were dashed again.
When the God you once loved was still a mortal, he remarked about how easy it is to lose things, no matter how hard they are to gain.
Adlar would meet you every night outside the temple. You never went back inside after your first visit, preferring to wait on the street outside for your lover to come running out into your arms. Until that night when thick black smoke blanketed the air around the temple and you saw devotees run out en masse, screaming about a collapse in the expansion wing. Instinctively, you ran toward the danger, passing the sculpture of Gale, whose smile looked menacing behind the haze of smoke. You approached the rubble where your elven lover would lay forever and began feverishly trying to clear it. You couldn't see straight, and wouldn't listen when patrons around you tried to explain that there was no way anyone could survive under the rubble.
You never stopped digging. Even when your hands ached. Even after your fingers began to bleed. When someone picked you up to move you from the carnage, you kicked and screamed, trying to fight what you knew to be true. No one could survive under there, especially not your gentle love, whose hands trembled that first night you held them. Adlar's bright eyes would never stare into yours again like when you revealed your fears to him. He would never again soothe your nightmares. You would never again wash the dirt from his hands after he delivered you a flower that Copperbloom compared her lover to in one of her famous poems. He was gone. A casualty of ambition.
You broke from the grasp of the person holding you and ran toward Gale’s altar. You slammed a coin down.
“Please, let me talk to you.”
It was a plea, not a prayer. But he answered nonetheless. You found yourself in a strange state that seemed real and unreal, beyond mortal comprehension. Gale stood in front of you, a bemused expression on his silver face.
“You called?” He asked.
“What happened?” You ask in return.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Do not fuck with me, Gale. I know that you know what happens in your temple.”
“Oh, right, the collapse. Hm. Such a shame. They were making great progress. You know how foolish mortals can be at times,” He replied flippantly. This caused frustration to begin boiling in your throat.
“Did you cause the collapse?” You asked.
“I could never, and I would never. You have my word. They knew the risks of what they were doing, and it was a dangerous endeavor.”
“But was the God of Ambition in their ears, telling them that the reward would be worth any risk?”
Silence. The expression on Gale's face told you the truth.
“Some risks are worth taking, you know,” Gale said.
“I do not need advice from you,” You replied.
“Well, perhaps you should heed some advice from someone a bit more knowledgeable than you. You’ve been toiling your summer away laying about with some elf who is far beneath your station. What are you doing? Your mortal life is so short. You could be brilliant. You can do anything that you want. You could be anything you want to be. You could be -”
“A goddess?”
“Perhaps. If you wanted to be.”
“I don’t. I already turned down that offer.”
Again, silence. It can sometimes be so loud.
“Why?” Gale asked.
“Because I loved the man you were, not the God you pretend to be,” You reply.
“I do not pretend. I am a God, rightfully ascended. A feat which I accomplished for you. Everything I did, I did it for your benefit. And you repay me this way? By coming to my temple, not even paying a sacrament, and finding some dunce to waste your life with? And not even thanking me when I give you an audience, instead berating me without a hint of respect? You must know that I care for you because I would never let a mortal speak to me the way that you do.”
“Did you cause the collapse because you were jealous?” You asked.
Silence. He says so much when he says nothing at all. Whatever love you still had in your heart for the man was replaced by animosity for the God.
“Answer me, damn you,” You demanded, reaching out to shove Gale’s chest. Lightning crackled when you made contact with him and you pulled your hand back in agony, cradling it with the other.
“It is not wise to pick a fight with a God,” Gale warned.
“Why? If that is how you treat your most devoted followers, then I would like to see how you treat a heretic,” You hissed. “Smite me, then, if what I say so offends you. Ambition is a curse. It has stolen everything from me. I will never bow to it. I will never honor it. I will never love it.”
In that moment, you hoped he would strike you down, if only to take away his favorite toy. He doesn’t.
“I would never harm you,” He said.
“You have destroyed me,” You replied, “I want nothing to do with the God in front of me. I loved the man I knew. I will miss him for the rest of my days. And one day, I will be gone and I do not know what will happen or where I will go. But I know one thing, and that's where you will be. Here, alone. I hope it was worth it. Was it?”
You stare at each other. No words could come out that would give either of you solace, and some wounds can never heal.
Instead of a reply, you found yourself back at the smoky temple, surrounded by broken marble. You walked out, never turning back even once to look behind you. That night you crawled into your bed and stared at the wall, trying to will comfort out of the isolation. You noticed that finally, the scent of rosewater and parchment had vanished. You were truly alone in the world.
At least when you’ve lost everything, nothing else can be taken from you.
Somewhere on some plane that mortals can’t comprehend, in a place that exists and doesn’t, the God of Ambition looked out at eternal nothingness. He had the powers of a God, powers that he had always dreamed of.
But, the thought flickered in his mind. Perhaps he could have lived without them. After all, without you, what did he really have?
Nothing, as far as anyone or anything could ever hope to see.