Quin the Bard

The week went by seamlessly. Almost too slow for Gale's comfort, but he could not afford to give in to the emotions running rampant in his chest. They came with too many questions and too few answers. Gale couldn't afford to be distracted when he had made his choice.

They didn't repeat sharing a hammock again, he had more than enough magic to warm both if it was needed. Gale wasn't sure what Astarion was going to do when they had to go separate ways, he was getting quite addicted to heated covers. Now the thought of being that close again would catch him out, thinking about how nice it was just to share space with someone. 

He spotted the questioning looks from Astarion when they had a chance to catch up on their duel experiences. The picture of horror Astarion painted for him with words actually filled him with hope he wanted to share. Saw the opportunity to maybe let the vampire into his confidence. But he flatly told himself he wouldn't be so preposterously needy. Especially with someone who was very happily in another relationship. 

Gale also berated himself for not only planning on perhaps breaking up that relationship, (Initially. It had only been a passing thought at the start of the journey, after all.) but allowing himself to coddle up with Astarion in such an embarrassing way. It had absolutely been the alcohol, and not the strangely hollow feeling that denying Captain's interest had left in him. Still, there was no doubt he was far more comfortable in Astarion's company. 

It meant when they parted ways on the same dock they had started out from, moon high in the night sky, the hollow feeling came back with a vengeance. And it wasn't even the more difficult thing he was going to face that night. 

"Are you certain you're fine? I could escort you to the temple." Gale clasped Astarion's hand and fervently wished that wasn't such a tempting proposition. 

Behind them the newly crowned Devilish Mermaid began to unload supplies into ready carts to go back to the harpers or to S. Sundries. Wraithsrun was quite enthusiastic about getting back into the waters and to his normal shipping routes. Gale thought the new horns really suited the figurehead.

"Believe me, nothing will impede me in handing the crown over and seeing the back of this little adventure." The hand in his twitched for a moment and Astarion went still. Too late Gale realised that may have sounded more callous than intended. "That's no reflection on your company, Astarion." 

"Of course, darling. I am a delight!" Gale couldn't help but grin at the turn around, and the preening, but he could detect the barest hint of worry as he let go of the grip. With little left to say, Astarion said his goodbyes and made his way back into the darkness he came from. 

Gale watched until he was sure the vampire was gone, then made his way to the temple. It wasn't a quick journey but he kept a fast pace. He made it with false dawn still on the horizon. He entered the quiet space, her statue was still dark and covered in shadows. As he approached Gale felt the portal open to her, and, bracing himself, stepped through. He walked into what felt like another quiet room, but there were no walls, only amorphous clouds. Mystra appeared in a flash of the weave in her usual form, all purples and pale skin. 

"Gale." She looked him over in almost a doll-like way. "I felt a large stirring of magic, I assume your quest was successful."

"You've guessed right. It was quite the adventure." Gale hesitated, wanting to tell her everything, but the way she held herself was impatient. "I have brought you the crown." 

A platform rose up between them, and she motioned to it. "You've done well Gale of Waterdeep, I thank y- what is that?" 

Gale had pulled out a golden sphere, perfectly smooth and fitting perfectly into the palm of his hand. Looking at it fondly, he stepped up to the dias and beckoned her towards him to look. 

"Do you remember, when we were quite young, I would create little toys and contraptions for you? You did a really good job pretending to enjoy them." 

"Gale this, this cannot be the crown…" 

"Oh I promise it is. I had a week, so I adjusted it." 

Gale held out his hand and, still puzzled, Mystra held hers out as if to take the sphere. Instead Gale took her wrist, or a piece of the weave, Mystra was a concept given form after all. Then he dropped the trinket into her manifested palm.

"I have had a great deal of time to think, Mystra, and I've discovered a lot about myself. Particularly this past year." With a little tune, the orb started to move and break open, gold split and twisted to open in a beautiful little round box, complete with gems housed very carefully inside. Runes bled out onto the little platform and flared to life. 

The goddess looked on impassively. "If you believe recreating the crown into a trinket or a toy is meant to bring back my good graces Gale, you have misunderstood me, again. There is no need to continue trying to impress-" 

"I found out," Gale said, cheerfully ignoring her. "That I was far too dependent on what you wanted.  I was breaking my metaphorical neck getting this to you, because you were upset with me, without taking time to figure out how to resolve things myself. Someone recently told me what others think shouldn't dictate how I work, and you could say it struck a chord."

And something moved beneath the surface of Gale's skin at the collar. To Mystra's growing horror, threads started to rip and tangle and stretch beneath the surface. The Karsite Weave, the circle, was pulling itself toward their hands in an almost sentient way. It left black then stark white in its tracks, scarring everything in its path. It was very obviously painful, and Gale turned a shade paler. A few places the threads broke the surface towards his shoulder, creating bloody gashes.

The doll she used to manifest was bad at expression, she always focused more on what she thought others wanted to see. But the cool exterior was fading and she was making a good attempt at terror. Meanwhile, Gale had removed his earring with his other hand, his focus, and was dangling it over the box. 

"I mean, someone had trapped it in a book! I can't believe I was so blind, and poisoned, and lovestruck, I let myself believe I was doomed." His hand squeezed tighter, his voice a bit more forced. The weave-fabricated room trembled and buckled against what was happening. 

"And you let me." Whispered words, a pain through the determined cheerfulness. The figure of Mystra was struggling now, just like the room that housed them. "It likes ambition, by the way, almost as much as your existence. It was very interested when I started looking into the crown as a gateway to immortality." The threads scored their way down his arm now, ravenous for the magic. Dark patches appeared on his clothing, marking it's path.

Mystra could not move, something in the crown kept her rooted to the spot. Controlled, contained, and spiralling. Gale still gripped tightly, even as the threads burst from his hand and reworked themselves into a black weave that spilled into the container with his own blood. It was so close to her that bits of Mystra started to crack and split, starting with her hand. Bits of light shone through the cracks in a circular pattern. 

"Gale, you're hurting me." she said it harshly and he winced at the sheer anger behind his name, but he did not let go. He wasn't hurting her, how could you hurt a concept? Bringing her down to size maybe.

"Fortunately, I don't need godhood to make people important to me happy and safe, I don't even need to do anything! Just exist! Imagine that." 

Now the threads thrashed, splashing blood about as if it was suddenly aware of its predicament. Before it could gather itself to launch out of the orb Gale dropped his earring and with an unearthly screech that lingered in the eardrum, the crown snapped shut around it several times while it struggled. Hungrily. 

Once the weave was contained to his satisfaction, Gale finally let her go. Mystra moved backwards quickly, as if bitten, and they both nursed their wounded arms, glaring at each other for a long moment. 

"Gale-" 

"No, no more from you. I have one last thing to say." The gold orb quivered and shook on its platform. Mystra's mouth snapped shut. The words were angry and more than a little raw. "There is more of this out there. Far more than there should be. I can find it, and contain it now." Gale leaned in and grasped the edges of the stone and Mystra physically took another step away from him. "Even with far less, maybe no, magic at my disposal, you'll find I'm very resourceful regardless, Mystra." 

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you want? Magic back? Power? …Love?" Gale laughed. 

"I want you to keep your grasping threads away from children ." Again the creature made a good effort at being shocked. She looked even more alien trying to force the small receptacle into emotions she wasn't used to.

"What?" 

"You heard me, if I find out you have any more little prodigies under your 'wing' I won't be responsible for the devastation I'll bring to your door. Don't think my mortality will stop me, either. Bring them to schools if you must, but your influence ends there." 

"What makes you think I won't strip you of your mind and soul while you're here. Make you forget everything."

Gale looked down at the little trinket, sealed with his focus and her symbol, and reached out to touch it very lightly. "First of all, you cannot, don't be a sore loser. But if you could…Then the Karsite Weave does exactly what you were prepared for it to do. Right here in your door, Mystra. It may not take all of you, but how much are you willing to part with?" 

She looked down, still gripping her arm, even though it had rapidly repaired itself. 

"Leave. Now." 

Gale swept a low bow and did as she commanded, bleeding but hopefully triumphant. 

She stared at the little orb on a pedestal for a long time before dissipating. 

-

Once again Gale found himself collapsing into a chair with a groan, though this was far more comfortable than the one on the ship. He was clean, bandaged, had proper nightclothes on, and a scalding cup of tea on his desk in one of the spare rooms at Sorcerous Sundries. 

"Are you really sure you should be reading the mail, Mr. Dekarios?" Gale blinked as Tara, his companion and tressym, jumped up to sit at the edge of the desk, cleaning herself in small little motions. He had known her long enough to know this was how she worried about him, with little movements and stand offish tones. 

"I need to see if there is anything that urgently needs my attention, Tara…" There were quite a few feathers in the box with the letters and scrolls marked In. "I hope I have received it all, they're going to put a stop on our mail if you can't contain yourself, madam." Tara just snorted and sidled her way up to him as he pulled the pile out. As if he were part of the chair, she climbed up his arm and settled across his shoulders. 

"I have no idea what you could possibly mean, my dear." Gale rolled his eyes, but was secretly glad for her comfort. She could usually tell when he was feeling vulnerable, and this was definitely one of those times. Gale could barely feel the shreds of the magic left to him, in a way that caused a shiver to go down his spine. Looking for a distraction, he started to open letters and skim them. 

"Blackstaff, asking to meet for drinks and a chat, no doubt looking to add to his faculty again." Tara snorted and flapped her wings lazily. "Jaheira, wanting my version of events, this is dated days before we returned home." Gale chuckled." I'm flattered at her faith in our abilities." There were a few bits of missives and notes. Ulder wanting updates too. Then he reached an envelope that was black, red, and very ominous. Gale turned it over a few times, and he felt Tara tense on his shoulders. 

"That one was delivered by a very nervous imp. It did not taste very good. All bones and sinew." 

"Please tell me you're joking, Tara." All he got was a satisfied purr that told him nothing one way or the other. "Shall we leave that one for a bit? I don't really feel like reading threats at the moment." Maybe he should have destroyed the devil's ship, but honestly he just needed some space to think. Gale was sure a few missives where he explained that could possibly repair things, if Captain hadn't been skinned alive by his patron. Or maybe even if he had, the hells were an odd place.

Lastly was a letter decorated in heavy golds and blues, even without the crescents sealing the letter closed he could tell it was from Waterdeep. He didn't know why but he could feel Tara smugly looking over his shoulder, her paws needing his bandages gently. "A letter from mother? It's close to her birthday, isn't it? I was going to go shopping this week." 

He opened the letter and was surprised to see it was an invitation. "For the esteemed Gale Dekarios, beloved son, an invitation to Morena Dekarios' 60th….SIXTY?!" It took everything in Gale's power to stay seated, but his jaw had dropped. He'd had no idea, usually they didn't discuss numbers. He groaned. "You could have mentioned, Tara…"

"This was far more entertaining. And it serves you right for leaving me to stall for you." Gale waved the invitation about in denial.

 "Don't give me that, you LOVE tea with mother." Tara continued on, ignoring him pointedly. 

"She's worried about you, and see's this event as a good time to perhaps introduce you to a few female and male friends…." The noise Gale made was as if an invisible hand was strangling him. 

"SHE WHAT?!" 

"Well, now Mystra is out of the picture, she feels she can perhaps help. She knows you're lonely, Gale." The smugness deepened into a wry amusement, despite the horror on Gale's face. The wheels in his brain started to turn in high gear. 

"No, no. I don't need help." He lurched up and Tara flapped her wings a bit more in irritation. "The invitation says plus one." 

"Yes but that's a formality, she doesn't actually expect….what are you doing?" 

"I'm writing to my plus one." He stopped his scribbling halfway through, interrupted by a curious thought. 

"Do you think vampires like shopping?"