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Gale winced, slotting his other earring into his ear. The left one always gave him problems - served him right for piercing them himself. He paused momentarily, looking at his reflection in the mirror on his desk. His beard was overgrowing again and he would have to trim it soon. The orb still poked out from underneath his robe, its silent presence sending small tingles through his chest, a reminder of the bomb he was destined to become.
He sighed. Not sad, not angry, just tired. The thought of Mystra wanting him to sacrifice himself didn’t even sting anymore. He just felt numb. Of course, a God wouldn’t understand - she never understood that he would have done anything for her, that he would have killed for her, whether that meant himself or otherwise. Yet he didn’t. He still lived, and so did the elder brain, now heading for Baldur’s Gate.
His hand reached to his chest absentmindedly, fingers tracing the circular mark of the orb. How foolish could he have been? Of course, a God could never love a mortal. Only mortals understood the deepness of love - its sacrifices, its woes, its pain. A God like Mystra couldn’t know the importance of him devoting his life to her - something which, for her immortal self, was just a brief moment in time, while for him it was everything.
The reflection in the mirror darkened, his brows furrowing. He had been so naive. And Mystra was all too keen to take advantage of that. It took everything in his power not to curse every God in existence under his breath.
The dawn was upon them, and he had to head out soon. He composed himself, straightened his robes and ran a hand through his hair. He looked as good as ever, he thought, before stepping out into the sun out of his tent. His fellow companions were gathering their things, ready to head to Baldur’s Gate after the Absolute’s army.
Above all the chatter, of course Dame Aylin’s voice rang the loudest. A smile spread on his lips, having grown quite fond of the peculiar new additions to their party.
He followed the sound. It was never hard to spot the pair - the aasimar’s wings always giving off a faint glow of moonlight, towering above everyone else, and next to her was the Selunite cleric. Their presence was never stealthy. He had known them to sneak out in the dead of night, probably going down to the beach to watch the stars and… well, whatever else. They were inseparable, and after 100 years apart he expected as much.
He watched silently for a few moments. Anyone’s heart would have melted (or thrown up) at the way the two interacted. Despite Isobel’s protests, Aylin took it upon herself to do all the heavy lifting in packing their things away, insisting time and time again “You have only just returned to this world, dearest Isobel. You must rest.”
Only to be met with the same retort “And you have only just been freed from a century of torture, my love. No, you must rest.”
It was enough to make Gale chuckle quietly to himself. Then his smile slowly faded.
Dame Aylin too was a divine immortal, and yet he had watched her worship the ground Isobel walked on, love her truly and deeply, and never as much as lifted a finger without looking to her for approval. The daughter of Selune, the most powerful person in their camp to date, was asking Isobel what their next move should be. When he had watched their reunion, it was Aylin that knelt down before her and bowed her head with pure devotion he had never thought possible coming from a divine.
His thoughts ran away from him. Where was the power imbalance between mortals and immortals? Where was Aylin’s cruel manipulation of Isobel’s limited time on earth? Where was the demand to blow herself up for the greater good? Isobel surely was just like him, and in time she would see how detestable and vile the Gods can be. She too will waste her life chasing what can never be had.
He clenched his fist, trying to shake his inner voice away. No, that wasn’t true. He knew it wasn’t and yet he almost… wished it was? He hated himself for it but it just wasn’t fair. Why had everything worked out for them but not for him? Why did Isobel have to sacrifice nothing to get Aylin to love her, while not even his entire life was enough for Mystra to talk to him again?
He had seen the fleeting glances and smiles they shared, the way they laughed heartily and freely with each other. No fear of judgement, no waking up wondering if they’re enough for the other as he often wondered with Mystra.
It was ridiculous to think about, he knew, and yet he couldn’t help it. A deep jealousy seemed to grow in his chest as he watched them, though he was aware it was wrong.
He was so transfixed in his thoughts that he didn’t manage to avert his eyes fast enough when Isobel looked up, seeing the bitter expression on his face. He tried to play it off, pretending to suddenly be struggling with dismantling his telescope, but he knew it was pointless. When he looked back up, Isobel gave him a slight smile, before going back to packing.
He cursed himself under his breath. He hoped he hadn’t offended her.
With everything packed, the party was finally ready to move out on the road to Baldur’s Gate. About time too, after all the things they had been through they’d finally see what the great city had come to. He tried to move his thoughts away from his own self-pity and onto the sights they’ll get to see - Sorcerous Sundries especially. He had been wanting to go there for so many nights.
And yet his mind always drifted back to the bitterness. It seemed to burn an ugly, black flame in the pits of his soul as he walked behind the others. Luckily they seemed preoccupied with discussing plans and didn’t notice his lagging behind.
He watched as Dame Aylin proclaimed she would take to the skies to scout the road ahead, keeping an eye out for any signs of the Absolute. She and Isobel shared a quick kiss before she spread her wings and soared, ascending majestically into the sky, her moonglow now a faint figure on the horizon.
Even when she left to do something, her fleeting thought, it seemed, was still of Isobel - never failing to kiss her goodbye, to take her hand one last time even if it would just be five minutes before she returned. If Aylin’s immortality meant her concept of time was as distorted as he believed, why did she care so much for those five minutes apart? Mystra would leave him for months at a time, claiming she just “didn’t feel them pass as he did”.
He was startled to find Isobel had dropped behind the others and was now walking with him.
“Oh! I didn’t notice you there. Hello.” He smiled, raising his hand in an awkward greeting.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to disturb your thoughts.” She regarded him for a moment, as if the pain he felt was written across his forehead. “Are you alright? You seem to be bothered by something.”
Gale waved his hand dismissively. “Oh you know. Wizardly problems. I quite honestly feel like the world is ending if I just can’t find a spell in my book.”
She didn’t say anything and he looked across to make sure he hadn’t driven her away.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” he said defeated.
She shook her head. “You don’t have to tell me, of course. I just thought I might be able to help.”
“I… well…” he tried to carefully choose his words before coming to accept that there was no polite way to say this. “I can’t help but feel slightly jealous. I don’t mean any disrespect I just… I truly believed the reason Mystra couldn’t love me was because immortals couldn’t love like mortals could. I had convinced myself it wasn’t my fault that she didn’t understand me because I was just so different from her. And yet, you and Dame Aylin have something so sweet and perfect I almost conclude that… maybe it was my fault.”
Isobel listened patiently to his confession. Even as he looked up, her face held no judgment or resentment towards him.
“The actions of one God cannot represent every immortal being,” she replied. “And that doesn’t make it your fault in the slightest.”
“But that was meant to be the reason!” Gale tried hard not to let his frustration show. “The reason she didn’t love me was because she was so much more powerful than me, that nothing I could do was ever great enough. Because my mortality dwelled in comparison to her everlasting reign! Immortals aren’t supposed to be able to love mortals, otherwise… otherwise that means there was a chance for her and me to work.” He finally admitted.
The air was heavy with his confession. He was suddenly afraid of what Isobel might think.
“You almost sound like my father.”
“Now, if you walked over here to insult me I must let you know I am not in a headspace to take it.”
Isobel chuckled. “Not at all. However, I think you have underestimated the struggles of Aylin and I’s relationship. It’s everything I could wish for in every way, though we still had to work out our differences. You are right, it was indeed difficult for her to understand how the world looks like through a mortal’s eyes, but every day I think she’s getting better at it. She did once leave for a walk and didn’t return in a month, but in the end, what mattered was our love for each other was stronger than the differences that sought to keep us apart.”
“That’s sweet and all but…” he trailed off. He suddenly realised what he must sound like - some schoolboy still asking why his crush didn’t like him back. He was shocked to suddenly find Isobel’s comforting hand on his shoulder.
“I don’t know anything of Mystra. It sounds like she could have done more to understand you, but she just didn’t. To be honest, she also sounds quite terrible.”
She made him smile slightly. “She was… not the best lover.”
“It truly wasn’t fair for you to go through all of that. She abused her power over you and took advantage of a young impressionable wizard.” Isobel could remember word for word that was exactly what Ketheric had warned her about when she had started dating Aylin, all those years ago. Ironic, she thought. If only he could have warned Gale instead of her. “Sometimes life is like a game of dice. You never know what you’ll roll, but you place your bets anyway.”
“I never imagined the holy cleric of Selune would be a gambler.”
“I’m glad Mystra didn’t take away your sense of humour too.”
The wizard considered her words for a moment. He didn’t take the cleric to be a poet, and yet here she was. “Where did you hear that? The dice thing?”
“Another cleric of Selune said that to me when I had the same insecurities as you.”
He raised his brows in shock. “You did?”
“Of course. I found it so very difficult to trust that of all people Dame Aylin would choose me. But it was true. I think we just need faith in things working out for us.”
“If only it had worked out between me and Mystra too.”
“No,” Isobel said sternly. He looked at her confused. “If she did not value you truly, mortal or not, then she wasn’t worth your limited time. If anything, we as mortals must hold our standards higher than the Gods, don’t you think? We’re the ones running out of days. Mystra wouldn’t be worth yours.”
“I… I suppose that’s true.”
“You are endlessly more valuable than her, Gale, because one day you will cease to exist. Everything you do is so much more impactful because of that. Don’t let her make you doubt yourself over the one thing that makes us special.”
He nodded slightly. “I shouldn’t have let her manipulate me like that. I was just so blinded by her. I just wanted to show her I was worthy.”
“You were always worthy.”
He closed his eyes, trying to hold back the tear that threatened to escape. He could have been rid of this orb, he didn’t have to suffer for so long, if only he had realized that sooner. If only someone talked some sense into him. But it was too late now, and he had cursed himself with a Weave-hungry orb that sought to destroy. Maybe the right thing for him to do was to die in a spectacular implosion as was destined.
“Don’t blame yourself for anything,” Isobel carried on as if she could read what he was thinking. “There is still much for us to do, and your story won’t end with Mystra.”
His story won’t end with Mystra. He wanted so badly for that to be true.
“Thank you,” he muttered.
“Don’t mention it. If you ever find you need to talk, Aylin and I are always here to help.”
He smiled and nodded. He still had so much to think about but at least for now he was comforted. The love he had so cruelly judged wasn’t like anything Mystra could have ever given him, and he just had to accept that. Maybe it wasn’t an immortal thing, nor a God thing. Maybe Mystra just… sucked.
In either case, there was still much to do. He couldn’t spend the rest of his days lamenting the past.
“Should we catch up to the others?” he said.
“Yes, they’re having too much fun in our absence.”
“Don’t let my humour rub off on you. Clerics should be serious and wise people.”
“Oh? I’ll let Shadowheart know she missed the memo.”