Chapter Text
The Underdark was fascinating, even if ripe with peril. Gale could have stayed down here… well, perhaps not forever, but at least for a tenday, studying the otherworldly features of this dark realm.
But there was definitely one part of this landscape that he could have done without. He groaned, feeling a migraine all but split his skull, as the party approached an enormous sussur tree. He couldn’t appreciate the beauty of the blue-glowing tree, with its large flowers and sprawling roots, when all he could think about was the loss of his sixth sense. He was only just beginning to regain his magical abilities, ripped away from him by the horrible combination of the orb and the tadpole in his brain, and now even those paltry abilities were gone…
“Am I the only one here who isn’t having the world’s worst headache?” Devi asked as she looked at her party in concern. “You three look awful.”
“Thank you so much for your kind observation,” Astarion ground out. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you.”
Gale shuddered, and tried to ignore how the motion made his brain feel like it was rattling about in his skull. “It’s the sussur tree,” he said, trying to quell his feeling of nausea. “It nullifies all spellcasting abilities. We’ve all lost our magic from being near the flowers.”
Devi’s eyes widened. “Shit. But you also said those flowers are how we can stop those turrets in that abandoned tower?”
Gale nodded, the motion very careful, lest his headache and nausea get worse. “Yes. They’re magic-imbued constructs. Sussur blooms nullify all magic around them; they should stop the turrets.”
“I’d almost rather take getting shot in the ass by those turrets,” Astarion muttered. “How come you aren’t suffering, little Devi?”
“She’s not a spellcaster or a high elf,” Shadowheart interjected. “She has no magic to lose from the tree, unlike the rest of us.” She shuddered as she studied the tree, then started climbing up one of the great roots. “No point in delaying this. Let’s grab the stupid flowers and be gone.”
“If we can find loose bark for that one blacksmith’s instructions from the abandoned village, that’d be swell too,” Devi agreed. She started up the tree after Astarion and Shadowheart, then paused and looked back at Gale. “You really aren’t doing well with this, are you?” she softly asked.
Gale shook his head. “Imagine that you’ve abruptly lost one of your senses, one that you’ve relied on all of your life,” he murmured. “And in its place, it’s left a horrific migraine that makes any motion fraught with the peril of me losing my breakfast in a very undignified way. The only mercy right now is that the orb seems to be muted, along with my normal senses of magic.”
Devi stepped back off the tree and extended a hand to Gale. “It’ll be okay,” she said, her voice surprisingly gentle. “Just take my hand. I’ll help you.”
Studying Devi’s outstretched hand, Gale finally reached out and took it. The pressure of her skin against his felt… nice, he had to admit. “Thank you,” he quietly said as he stepped closer to Devi and the damned sussur tree. “Your presence helps with the pain.”
“Anytime,” Devi answered with a smile. “Consider it payback for the reading lessons.” Still holding Gale’s hand, she started back up the tree, tugging the wizard along behind her. “And I’ll carry the stupid flowers so they bother you three a little less.”
With a small smile despite his headache, Gale followed Devi up the tree. Being able to hold her hand was worth the migraine.