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Your eyes flutter open. A grunt escapes you as you unfurl, rolling to your side to bury your face in the pillow. Ugh. Is it time already?
Apparently not; as the groggy blur of the world comes into focus, you see your companions are sleeping soundly. The sky is a dark bruised indigo. Dawn will break soon.
Though you debate returning to the covers, you begrudgingly clamber to your feet. You promised yourself something for this morning, and you aren’t one to miss a date. After a languid stretch, you clothe yourself, wash up, and tiptoe away from the dying embers of the campfire.
–
A twenty-minute jaunt brings you to a crumbling outpost. The stone is ancient, cracked, and surrendered to creeping ivy. After a quick glance to ensure you weren’t followed, you place a hand gently to the cool masonry, then jump up onto the wall. You stick onto it like a spider, and climb up lizard-fashion. You breach the ramparts three stories up, and find a perch, turning your face to the eastern horizon that is now bleeding from the deep sapphire to an expectant cobalt.
You cross your legs as your ruby eyes scan the wilderness. The scenery is vast. The Chionthar cuts through the valley, hemmed in by rocky cliffs and forests clinging at the edges. A crisp, metallic breeze with hints of pine gently ruffles your curls. It's a pleasant break from the usual hustle and bustle of the city you're so used to. Puffy smears of clouds cling to the horizon, but the rest of the sky above is an open stage. Your stomach tightens nervously. This is a play you have not seen for two centuries.
“Ah, there you are! Fancy meeting you here.”
You startle, the voice grating against your nerves like a dull blade. You whip around to see one of your companions, the wizard, cresting stairs behind you. Your lip curls into a sneer before you can think to hide it.
“I did not take you for one to sentimentalize the fleeting moments of a sunrise,” he boasts, his tone far too bright for this dark hour.
An involuntary twitch pulls at the corner of your eye. He sinks onto the stone beside you. You keep your exterior calm but inside your blood simmers. How dare he! Of all the haggard, ragtag strays you’ve been forced to put up with the day, it had to be him. Not the quiet half-elf, no, it had to be the annoying human wizard.
You narrow your eyes, fixating on the horizon with a desperate focus.
“You know,” he says, his voice followed by a bubbly, self-satisfied yawn, “it's not often I'm up this ear-”
“Gale,” you hiss, his name acidic poison on your tongue.
He falls silent. Out of the corner of your eye you feel his gaze shift to you. You refuse to meet it. Your eyes are glued. You will not miss this for idle chatter.
“Be a dear? I say this as kindly as I can–please shut up.”
The sudden silence is palpable. You close your eyes and draw in a deep, unnecessary breath. It’s a habit you haven’t broken.
Just pretend like he’s not there.
“You’ve a point,” Gale whispers, but his volume climbs, “a good sunrise is best enjoyed in peace. As are sunsets, or a particularly starry eve-”
“Gale.” You turn a piercing, scarlet glare on him. “I will not hesitate to ‘silence' you without the use of a magic spell.”
He holds up his hands in a frantic peace offering. “Right- sorry.” He begins to shuffle back, preparing to leave.
“Wait.” The word slips past your lips before you catch it. You look down at your own hands, startled by the sound of your own voice. You had expected you’d want to be alone for this moment, this reclamation of light. But as the shadows retreat, having somebody- anyone- by your side feels less cold. Even if that someone happens to be Gale.
He looks back, a hopeful, puppy-like glint in his eyes. You roll yours.
“I didn’t say leave. Just… please, be quiet, would you?”
He nods solemnly. He smiles softly. “Understood.”
You both turn back to the sky.
Time passes in blissful stillness as the sky graduates to a deep, royal amethyst. You lean forward. Your heart would be fluttering against your ribs if it was alive. Flecks of pink begin to bloom into the edges of the lavender clouds. The colors smear across the expanse until a deep vermillion glow peeks over the treeline. The pinks mature, ripening into reds and brilliant oranges.
And then you see it.
A tiny pinprick of hot, blinding white pierces the skyline. Rays streak the blanket of sky.
The sun.
Your body stills. For two-hundred years, you lurked in the damp and dark, terrified of this very light. But for the first time in eternity, you aren’t running. It’s everything you remembered- the warmth, the weight of the light, the painterly awe, the sheer scale of it.
It is miraculous.
“Breath-taking, isn't it?”
You feel a single hot tear streak down your cheek as you turn to Gale slowly. You wipe it away with a trembling hand.
He chuckles. “Now, now. Don't tell me an elf who has centuries of wisdom and experience gets choked up at a little old sunrise?”
Your face falls flat. For a fleeting second you consider puncturing his carotid and just to watch him squirm in his own blood. “How about we go back to being quiet?”
With a bashful grin he mouths the word sorry and returns to his vow of silence.
You return back to the horizon. The sun climbs, ducking behind a veil of clouds, its golden rays piercing through the frays. The hues soften, from oranges and yellows, then to a pale slate, until the expanse settles into the familiar cerulean and the clouds turn cotton-white.
Just like that, it’s over. Such an immense buildup for a brief moment.
You look down at your hands as heat soaks through your skin. There is a mild, pleasant sting of impossible warmth instead of the searing pain of turning to ash. You smile. You could get used to this.
Beside you, Gale stands at last, brushing his robes off. He doesn’t speak at first, but his eyes linger on you for a second too long with a keen, calculating curiosity. His eyes drift from your sharp gaze down to the high collar of your doublet. You nervously scratch at your neck.
“Truly, a marvel,” he says softly, offering a smug smile, though you have a hunch he may not just be referring to the sun.