The morning began not with spellcasting or lectures…
A cheerful violin melody drifted through the halls of Gale’s tower.
The tune was lively and sweet, carrying a playful rhythm that somehow managed to echo through every stone corridor.
Pulling on his shirt and fastening the last button, he followed the sound.
As he descended the stairs, the sight before him nearly stopped him in his tracks.
Tavara stood in the center of the hall, violin tucked beneath her chin.
Her dark hair had been loosely braided, several strands escaping around her face. She swayed gently with the music, singing in a soft, sweet voice as she played.
The song was upbeat and utterly infectious.
In front of her, Gale’s two sons had abandoned all dignity.
The other attempted an elaborate dance step, nearly tripping over his own feet.
They laughed and continued anyway.
At the side of the room, Gale himself enthusiastically clapped along to the rhythm.
“Marvelous!” he declared.
“Again! No, keep going! This is delightful!”
Tavara laughed and continued playing.
He had seen many strange things in his life.
this was among the more bewildering sights.
“There he is!” the wizard exclaimed. “Good morning, Astarion! Come join us.”
“I’d rather face another mind flayer.”
One of Gale’s sons laughed.
Tavara looked up from her violin and smiled.
Far too warm for this early in the morning.
Astarion found himself returning it despite himself.
Then he quickly remembered he was supposed to be dignified.
“You’re all terribly energetic.”
“It’s impossible not to dance to this!” Gale said, clapping once more.
Tavara finished the tune with a flourish.
The room erupted into applause.
Astarion couldn’t help it.
Now she looked entirely too pleased with herself.
Before she could say anything, he crossed the room toward Gale.
The wizard lowered his hands.
Astarion glanced briefly toward Tavara, who had resumed chatting with the others.
Then he lowered his voice.
Gale’s expression became serious.
“I’ve been thinking about it.”
“I think we need to look further into it.”
“You believe there is more?”
The wizard looked toward Tavara.
She was laughing at something one of his sons had said.
Completely unaware of the conversation.
“There is definitely something unusual about her magic,” Gale admitted.
“The dark energy you sensed?”
“I don’t teach the darker arts often.”
“No,” Astarion agreed, “but you know enough to recognize them.”
Silence settled between them.
“I had hoped it might simply be an unusual affinity for lightning.”
“You don’t believe that anymore.”
Astarion folded his arms.
The wizard looked at him carefully.
“You seem rather concerned.”
“I merely wish to know what we’re dealing with.”
Gale’s expression turned knowing.
Astarion narrowed his eyes.
“Whatever this power is, we’ll proceed carefully.”
Astarion looked back toward Tavara.
She had started another song, and one of Gale’s sons was attempting another absurd dance.
She laughed so brightly that it echoed through the hall.
A strange feeling settled in his chest.
“Just make sure she doesn’t accidentally set anything else on fire.”
Later that afternoon, the dancing and music had finally settled into quieter lessons.
Tavara sat at a large oak table in the library, several books open around her.
Gale stood by one of the towering bookcases, deep in thought.
Astarion lounged nearby with a glass of wine, though he was only pretending to read.
In truth, he was watching the lesson.
Gale’s gaze drifted toward a high shelf.
There, tucked behind several ordinary volumes, rested an old, dark leather book.
He hadn’t opened it in years.
he almost never showed it to anyone.
Then slowly removed it from the shelf.
Gale turned the book over in his hands.
Astarion immediately frowned.
“This book discusses rare magical affinities and unusual forms of arcane resonance.”
Astarion set down his wine.
The wizard looked at him.
“I only want to see if it reacts.”
“You’ve never shown anyone that book.”
Then Gale approached the table and gently set the book before Tavara.
The cover was black leather, worn smooth with age. Silver symbols decorated its surface.
She looked at it with fascination.
He slowly folded his arms.
Tavara carefully placed her fingertips upon the cover.
The silver symbols began to glow.
A soft violet light spread across the book.
The pages fluttered on their own.
Wind stirred through the room though no windows were open.
The book opened by itself.
Then lines of glowing script rose from the pages like threads of light, circling gently around Tavara.
The symbols hovered around her, illuminating her face in blue and violet light.
Then one of the runes touched her hand.
A tiny spark of electricity danced across her fingertips.
The floating script brightened.
Even Gale looked astonished.
Astarion had risen to his feet.
The book slowly settled open upon the table.
Tavara stared at her hand.
“I don’t believe you did.”
The wizard was silent for a long while.
Then he sat across from her.
“Tavara… I believe your magic may be something exceedingly rare.”
He glanced at the open pages.
“This text describes sorcerers whose powers cross unusual boundaries. Those who possess an affinity for more than one school of magic… and whose gifts awaken almost instinctively.”
“The lightning we’ve already seen.”
“Not dark in the sense of evil.”
He chose his words carefully.
“More… shadowed. Ancient. Magic that touches hidden things, intuition, and energies that many mages never encounter.”
Astarion folded his arms.
“You think she’s some sort of dual-affinity mage.”
“I think she may be even rarer than that. Possibly a sorceress with ancient power in her lineage.”
“In magic, almost anything is possible.”
She looked at the glowing pages.
The wizard’s expression softened.
“I don’t think we know yet.”
“But,” he continued, “I believe you possess a gift that is both electrical and deeply arcane—one that resonates with old magic in a way I’ve seen only once before.”
Silence settled over the room.
Tavara looked down at the book.
The question surprised both men.
Gale answered immediately.
“I know this,” he said gently. “Magic itself isn’t good or evil. It is what one chooses to do with it that matters.”
Then back at the glowing pages.
“So… I have more studying to do.”
“That’s your conclusion?”
“I have mysterious magic! Of course I have more studying to do.”
“There may be hope for you as a scholar yet.”
Astarion couldn’t help smiling.
Only Tavara, he thought, could discover she possessed rare and mysterious powers…
and become excited about homework.
The peaceful afternoon in Waterdeep shattered with the ringing of the town bell.
A cry echoed from the streets below.
“To arms! Beasts in the western district!”
Everything happened at once.
Gale was already on his feet.
His sons grabbed their staves and hurried toward the door.
Astarion rose in one smooth motion, drawing both daggers.
Tavara reached for her short sword.
“Something has broken through the city gates,” Gale said. “Stay close!”
Large, wolf-like beasts with antlered heads and thick northern fur had surged into the district. Citizens fled while guards fought desperately to push the creatures back.
Gale immediately began weaving protective spells and healing the injured.
One of his sons aided the wounded while the other fought beside the city guard.
Astarion moved like a shadow.
His daggers flashed silver in the afternoon light as he darted between beasts, striking swiftly and disappearing before claws could reach him.
Tavara stayed close, remembering her lessons.
She blocked one swipe and stumbled backward.
A massive claw struck her.
Pain exploded across her cheek.
Across the battlefield, Astarion heard it.
For one terrible moment, his heart stopped.
But several beasts intercepted him.
Three of them lunged at once.
He fought back immediately, daggers flashing.
Tavara looked up through the pain.
Something inside her broke open.
The thought of him being hurt.
The thought of losing him.
All of it surged through her at once.
Dark smoke began to curl around her feet.
Blue sparks crackled through it.
Then violet light ignited within the darkness.
The smoke rose and spiraled around her like living shadows.
The swirling mist shot across the battlefield.
It wrapped around the beasts attacking Astarion.
The smoke burned with violet fire and crackling electricity.
One by one, the beasts staggered and fled or collapsed.
The smoke slowly dispersed.
Tavara stood in the center of it, breathing hard.
The last sparks faded from her fingertips.
She looked around, stunned.
One of his sons whispered,
The other looked awestruck.
Astarion was staring too.
At the tears forming in her eyes.
She reached him and immediately placed her hands on his arms.
She looked him over frantically.
Astarion gently caught her hands.
Only then did she seem to realize what had happened.
“I thought…” Her voice trembled. “I thought I was going to lose you.”
The words hung in the air.
Astarion forgot the battle.
Forgot everyone watching.
He could only look at her.
She had unleashed extraordinary magic…
because she thought he was in danger.
A soft voice broke the silence.
The wizard approached slowly.
His expression was one of pure astonishment.
“I have never seen anything quite like that.”
“I didn’t mean to do it.”
“But I believe we’ve just learned something very important.”
Gale’s eyes drifted to the fading wisps of violet smoke.
“Your magic is deeply tied to emotion.”
One of his sons nodded enthusiastically.
“And incredibly powerful.”
The other looked at Tavara with admiration.
“You protected everyone.”
Tavara looked back at Astarion.
Her hands were still in his.
She quickly let go, cheeks pink.
Astarion’s expression softened.
He looked at the small cut on her cheek.
“You should let Gale heal that.”
“Only if you let him heal you first.”
Despite everything, he laughed softly.
Then, without thinking, he brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
The nickname slipped out so naturally that neither of them mentioned it.
And judging by the smile on the wizard’s face…
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