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1555 DR
Baldur’s Gate, Sword Coast, Faerun
Professor Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep was many things; a powerful wizard, exceptional teacher, scholar, and librarian, to name a few. One thing he knew for certain he was not: an avid outdoorsman. He wiped away a bead of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand as he took pause.
The trip to Baldur’s Gate from his dwelling in Waterdeep had taken a few days longer than he anticipated. As meticulous as he usually was, even he failed to realize the journey would be slower, now that his bones ached more than they used to. This trip was long overdue , he thought to himself. He hoped she wouldn’t be too upset about it.
Baldur’s Gate: host to the most glorious adventure of his time, so many years ago. He was finally here.
Gale smiled softly as he gazed past the stone walls of Wrym’s Rock and into the city itself. He took in a deep breath as a torrent of memories flooded his mind. The Netherese Orb, the Netherbrain, the Dead Three, the chaos, destruction…but also the bond of friendships, allies made, evil vanquished, lives saved, and love to be had.
It was the kind of grand adventure seldom few believed in its entirety. The kind of adventure that made for a magnificent and riveting plot in a storybook. The kind of adventure that, to those who lived it, left a lasting impression on their lives. As time passed, the miniscule details were embellished and altered by ambitious bards and scholars, but the core of it remained. In short, he met lifelong friends, powerful allies, and the love of his life on this grand adventure. Gale Dekarios would simply not be alive today if not for the events that unfolded during that adventure, and he was forever grateful for it.
The city was bustling and alive, even more so on this day. He noticed an abundance of celebratory fanfare along the streets as he peered into the city. If his memory served him correctly, this was one day in a week-long celebration which honored the city’s heroes and the evils felled over the centuries.
Gale slowly made his way past the guard’s post at the end of the Wrymway, past Wyrm’s Rock Fortress, and into the city proper. The city was in wonderful shape since the reconstruction efforts after the battle with the Absolute. He expected nothing less – after all, he helped with a fair bit of the reconstruction, utilizing his magical talents. His estimation of the buildings “holding up for another millennia” was not an exaggeration, even if one of the city architects had disputed his claim at the time.
He continued through the Lower City, weaving in and out of passing crowds of townsfolk. He had stopped briefly to adjust the bag around his shoulders. The sturdy leather pack had begun to make his shoulders ache. No matter, I’m almost there. He thought.
Gale strolled past a quaint shop selling a variety of home accessories: vases, trinkets, furniture, and mirrors, to name a few. He caught his reflection in one of the mirrors and stopped to take a cursory glance at himself. He must make sure he was presentable, if he were to come all this way to see her, after all.
When Gale had last been in Baldur’s Gate over half a century ago, he was thirty-five years of age. He was now pushing one-hundred, but most passersby could seldom tell. His love for wine and delicious food was not forgotten. However, his excellence in magic was the biggest contribution to his more youthful appearance – not discounting his reportedly good looks and award-winning smile, of course.
His previously flowing chestnut brown hair was now snow white, as was his beard. Despite all of Tara’s protests over the years, he never shaved his beard off completely, content with keeping it short and well-manicured. Gale ran a hand through his long hair, adjusting the tie which held the top half of his updo in place. He wiped another bead of sweat from his brow, observing the wrinkles on his face; they had become a bit more abundant in the increasing years. He frowned slightly. Hopefully she wouldn’t mind. He lastly brushed a few wayward specs of dirt from his purple wizard robes and straightened them out, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
Satisfied with his appearance, he hurried away from the mirror and approached his destination.
At last, he spotted the masts of tall sailing ships slowly bobbing up and down to the flow of the river Chionthar. Stone benches lined the divide between the cobblestone street and the wooden piers, and Gale scanned the area to look for one bench in particular. He smiled when he spotted it, but when he made the motion to walk towards it, he hesitated slightly.
Gale internally struggled to push down the rising tide of emotions that time and experience had previously buried. The conclusion of his great adventure played out at this very spot, and with it, his return to a life of relative normalcy. Deep down, however, a selfish thought emerged - a longing for the same adventure, a wish that the adventure never ended. Gale found his body had subconsciously moved one foot in front of the other until he was in front of the stone bench. It was time to reflect on his past, pay tribute, and perhaps ponder the short future he had remaining.
He took the leather pack off his shoulders and slowly sat on the cold bench with a groan. He took the weight off his feet and sighed in relief. He had finally made it, after all these years…he was finally here to see her.
He peered downward, examining the cobblestones at his feet. Most were an off-white color and varied in shape and size; however, one stone situated by his left foot stood out from the rest. It was significantly larger than the others, completely uniform in shape, and colored burgundy. Ornate words had been meticulously carved onto its surface and inlaid in silver. The inscription read,
In Memory of Serin Dekarios
Defiant in Life, Free in Death
She Chose the Ultimate Sacrifice
To Defeat the Absolute and Preserve Her Humanity
1492 DR
Forever Remembered, Forever Free
Gale smiled dolefully, his eyes flicking back upwards to admire the shimmering water of the river, illuminated by the afternoon sun. She had loved this view – the view of the water and what lay beyond. He absentmindedly fidgeted with the simple silver band on his left ring finger. That band was one of the last gifts they exchanged before their adventure had come to such an abrupt end. Gods, how I wished the events would have unfolded differently . He thought to himself.
Gale sat silently for many heartbeats. Despite all the time he had to prepare for this very moment, and despite his usual loquacious manner, he was at a loss for words. He knew this moment would have given her a laugh. Gale Dekarios, speechless? He could hear her say mockingly, with a sly smile sprawled across her face.
She is… was beautiful. Serin was a Tiefling with rich livid-colored skin; akin to the twilight sky during a full moon. She had long, luxurious auburn hair that flowed down her back and always seemed to catch the light in the most mesmerizing way. Ashen colored horns framed the features of her face beautifully. Her eyes…they were what first seized him, almost keeping him spellbound, when they first met. They were bright orange like the heart of a flame and burned with an intensity that could pierce the darkest of shadows. In those eyes, Gale not only saw beauty, but saw the depths of her very soul – troubled, fierce, ardent, but also uniquely compassionate and kind hearted.
It was the very same soul that was eternally damned to serve at the behest of the god of murder himself, Bhaal. A soul that had fought valiantly against her divine curse, but in the end, was unable to overcome it. A soul that was cruelly ripped away from this plane too early.
The doleful smile on Gale’s face faded at the thought, and he looked back down to the grave marker.
He reached down and brushed his fingers against the weathered surface of the marker. Gale cleared his throat and finally spoke aloud. “Hello, my love,” He said quietly, in almost a whisper, “It’s been a long while. This reunion has been many years overdue; I admit. I hope you aren’t too upset at me.” He trailed off as dozens of memories finally percolated to the surface of his mind’s eye, and his throat tightened as the emotions also accompanied them.
“I’ve missed you terribly, you know. Your absence has left an irreplaceable void in my heart.” Gale said weakly, “How could I forget you, after all? You were the anchor that kept me steady amidst the storm of the Orb and the Absolute. You saved us all; and you saved my own troubled life on more than one account.”
Serin had pulled him to safety after the Nautiloid crash – she had assisted him, a stranger at the time, simply because he had asked politely. She selflessly assisted Gale in containing the volatile Karsite Orb within his chest, even after he had kept its dangerous nature a secret from her and the rest of the party. She had saved him from needlessly sacrificing himself to destroy the Netherbrain not once, but twice. Serin had extricated him from his doomed quest to win the favor of a goddess and the reckless ambition of ascending to godhood. Serin saw past Gale’s smug facade of grandiose accolades and peered at the insecure, broken man underneath. Serin loved Gale Dekarios for who he truly was, and it was that love that undoubtedly changed his life for the better.
His return to normalcy after their adventure was a life he was unable to share with her; it was a debt that he could not fully repay.
His life, however, had moved forward and he followed its current. He had faced obstacles, continued his study of the arcane, taught many classes of aspiring wizards – he even helped raise a few orphaned children. Despite the passage of time and the many distractions of his duties, the thought of her never strayed far from his mind. How could it? He would not be alive if not for her.
Gale wiped away the tears that had formed in his eyes and cleared his throat in a feeble attempt to keep his stoic composure.
“After all these years, I have not stopped thinking about you. I have run through incalculable scenarios on how I could save you; how I could bring you back and banish the Urge that Bhaal placed within you.” He paused, “I did so despite your clearly communicated warning against such an action. Grief and ambition, as you know quite well, are a dangerous combination.” He admitted defeatedly.
Gale reached into a pocket inside his robes to pull out a well-worn, folded parchment. He kept this piece of paper on his person every day for sixty-three years, using it as an aid for grief, a guiding hand, and a reminder. It still smelled faintly of a light flowery perfume, a scent she magically incased into the very fibers of the parchment. The hastily sprawled words inked within were ones that Gale had read and re-read an innumerable number of times, enough to have it fully committed to memory. He simply held it in his hand as he further reminisced.
Serin’s simulacrum had delivered this final will to him six months after the Absolute’s defeat at a celebration party hosted by Withers. He vividly recalled his feeble attempt to embrace her one last time. The simulacrum’s power, kept alive months after its initial expiration by Withers himself, had waned and began to break apart into the night air. He remembered falling to his knees and weeping as he watched his lover fade away. It was the very last time he heard her voice.
The recollection of that memory had broken the last bastion of composure Gale had remaining, and he quietly wept.
Gale’s hands shook as the sobs wracked his body, and he held the letter close to his chest. Years of suppressed sorrow had now bubbled to the surface, and he acquiesced to it. It was many long minutes before the flood of emotions finally began to ebb, and Gale found that he could catch his breath. He collected himself after a few long, deep breaths and wiped away the tears from his face.
He unfolded the parchment in his hands carefully, treating it as if it were the most precious artifact in his vast collection. The flowery perfume gently carried itself through the air once more, and it gave Gale some level of comfort that he sorely missed. He read the words inked on the parchment’s surface to himself as a way of recalling her voice one last time,
“My dearest Gale,
If you are reading this, then my fears have come to pass. Know that I made my choice freely, before the will of Bhaal should consume my mind.
Our time together, though brief, was the most profound and meaningful period of my life. You gave me hope, love, and the strength to fight against the darkness within me. I am sorry I could not overcome the Urge within – this is my only regret. Without you, I am not sure I would have made it this far.
You must not seek to undo what has been done. Bhaal’s will, and this Urge, is a powerful and an insidious force. I would not have you risk your life or your soul for my sake.
Instead, I ask of you this: live your life to the fullest, as we once dreamed we could. Remember the love we shared and let it be a light that guides you through the shadows. Teach, learn, and continue to inspire those around you. You have a gift, Gale. Use it wisely and with compassion. You are a worthy, powerful wizard that can inspire goodness and change in this realm: do not lose sight of this.
I will always be with you, my love. In every whisper of the winds, in every glint of light reflected from the sea, and in the stars that watch over you. Until we meet again in the afterlife, my soul stands with you, and my love for you is eternal.
I love you, Gale Dekarios, and I will never forget you.
Serin”
Fresh tears had welled up in Gale’s eyes that he quickly wiped away. Re-reading the letter had given him a certain level of comfort, like a gentle hand on his shoulder. He let out a long, shaky breath and attempted to compose himself once more.
“I have tried to live as you wanted me to. I hope I've honored your wishes.” He paused, looking out to the river and the brilliant setting sun. “I supposed I came all this way to reaffirm what you've told me, and to say thank you once more.” He let the sentence hang in the air.
Gale sat for many heartbeats longer in silence, observing the sun as it slowly descended into the river.
Once darkness began to fall upon the city, he wiped away a few wayward tears and cleared his throat. He slowly refolded the parchment and placed it back into its designated pocket inside his robes. He reached into his leather pack and produced from within a small bouquet of myosotis flowers. Gale slowly stood up and his eyes trailed back down to the grave marker.
He knelt down steadily and gingerly placed the colorful bouquet on top of the grave marker. He then placed a gentle kiss on his fingertips and pressed them to the gravestone, a gesture of his never ending love.
“Thank you for everything, my love. Goodbye, and until we meet again.” He whispered softly.