OK, time to continue Rakha's adventures in Moonrise Towers. We've acquired Minthara, but Rakha's also picked up a hell of a lot of new questions, based on the fact that everyone in Moonrise seems to know her from before her memory loss - and, frankly, none of them seem to like her much.
On the bright side, this new mystery is helping distract her from the beast's obsession with going back and killing Isobel. The downside is she wants to kill Ketheric more than ever. :P
Plenty of trouble ahead for her to get into, but we left off in the middle of a long rest, and Rakha - observant as she is - notices that something is off in the camp.
Specifically, Gale is not there - and there's a hologram version of him here instead.
(The whole Moonrise camp is actually fucky atm. Gale is standing in the middle of things rather than in his tent, and Halsin doesn't appear to have a tent at all. I'm assuming this is some sort of glitchiness because Minthara is here and he and Minthara were originally supposed to be mutually exclusive? Not sure though.)
"Good evening!" the illusion says cheerfully as Rakha approaches. "I am here on behalf of Gale of Waterdeep. He wishes to extend you an invitation for a private conversation in a more suitable locale."
Rakha doesn't answer immediately. She is too busy being fascinated by the illusive construct. She's seen Gale summon these sort of images before - images of Mystra in particular - but this one is FAR more complex, a much more interesting magical invocation. The Weave swirls around it in brilliant prismatic swirls.
It takes her a moment to remember that it said something, and another moment to realize it's something she should respond to. An invitation?
"Very well," she says, mildly bemused. "Show me the way."
-----
She's more than a little displeased when the illusion leads her outside, away from Moonrise. They're safe with the pixie's blessing, of course, but still she hates wandering around in the shadow curse, feeling its corrupted sting on her skin, the way the Weave seems ripped into pieces by its darkness.
So she is equally surprised when she reaches the small clearing near the Tower to which Gale has retreated... and finds it saturated in light.
Gale sits in the middle of the clearing. His hands are lifted as if conducting a silent orchestra, and all around him the shadows have been driven back. The Weave, triumphant, exultant, swirls around him in waves of pure magical beauty. The blank emptiness of the sky is replaced with a sea of stars and rippling aurora.
She is struck to stillness and for a few minutes simply stands there, watching, drinking in the soft touch of the unbroken Weave around her. It reminds her of the night, months ago now, when he channeled his power through her and she felt safe, for almost the first time that she could remember - cocooned inside the magic that both of them love beyond anything.
Finally she stirs, takes a few soft steps forward to sit down at his side.
He watches her in silence, then slowly returns his eyes to the majestic display he has conjured above them.
"I love this time of night," he murmurs. "There's an almost reverent silence that accompanies the peak of darkness, when you'd almost believe the dawn will never break. The cradle of eternity." His lips twitch and he flicks a glance at Rakha. "The timelessness of lovers, that most beautiful of fantasies."
(A/N: This scene is a smidgen odd if you're not romancing Gale and definitely seems intended to imply he still has feelings for you regardless. I basically skipped over the initial scene implying this when it happened in Act 1 and am continuing to skip over it now; I don't think he and Rakha have that kind of relationship. So in this case I think he's just acknowledging what Rakha has found with Wyll and that he's happy for her.)
Rakha is only half-listening; her attention is still fixated on the magic surrounding them. "It's breathtaking, Gale," she says quietly - which for her is quite effusive. "Is this starry sky your doing?"
"Indeed," he answers. "The curse is still present, of course - just veiled and at arm's length for now. Not a trick I can repeat often, but tonight?" He sighs heavily. "Tonight is different."
She quirks an eyebrow questioningly but for a little while he falls silent again, contemplating the swirling magic, its eddies and ripples. "This may be my last night alive," he finally goes on quietly. "I wanted it to be under a canopy of beauty and wonder. I thought this place might bring me peace. I thought it might make the weight of what I must do a little lighter. But... I am not so sure."
She can understand that. Many times the beauty of the Weave has been the only peace that she has known against the raging war being constantly fought within her mind. What he seeks peace from, though, is something more direct and tangible.
This may be my last night alive.
He is thinking of the orb. Of Mystra's instructions that he should destroy himself.
Rakha's jaw sets with sudden rage on the wizard's behalf. Mystra, this god he follows, claims power over all of magic, and yet she has no other solution than Gale's destruction? No. She will see many other deaths before she is through - but not Gale's. Not any of her companions. That is one of the things that sets her apart from the beast in her head that would see everyone dead in the same great pool of blood.
"I refuse to believe," she mutters hoarsely, "that this is the end. We'll find another way. I promise."
Gale meets her eyes for a moment and a slight smile touches his lips. "Thank you," he says. "But... even if we do find another way, perhaps this is the right way. The end fate wishes for me."
He rubs his fingers absently against his chest, where the orb waits beneath his skin, subtly sucking at the magic around him, hungry and all-consuming.
"There is no point in running from the inevitable," he says. "Better to meet it on my own terms."
Rakha is quiet for a moment then. Yes. She can understand that, if she is honest. How many times has she raged at the beast not for its violence but for the choice that was denied her, to choose her kills with purpose?
There is much that still lies ahead. Many possibilities. She will not see Gale die if she can do anything to avoid it. But she can respect his desire to make his own choice.
"You sound sure in your course of action then," she says, her voice uncharacteristically soft.
"Resigned to it, rather," he says. His voice cracks subtly and he squeezes his eyes shut, looking away. "But that is not to say I am without fear. Far from it..."
He hesitates, then shifts so he can brush his knuckles gently against her arm. "Stay with me a while, will you? Day will come all too soon, even in this place..."
(A/N: The affirmative answer here is, "I'm not going anywhere, Gale. I'll be by your side, whatever dawn brings," which is WAY too effusive for Rakha. :P So slight artistic license here to give her a different line.)
"Yes," she agrees calmly. "And we will meet it. Whatever it brings."
He shifts with an air of sudden frustration. Around them, the rippling rhythm of the Weave stutters suddenly, bright flashes mixing with the even flow. "Yes. But there is so much to live for, and so few moments in which to house it all," he says, his voice suddenly tight, strained. "Damn you!"
Her head snaps back in surprise as he turns towards her fiercely. "Damn you," he goes on, "for giving me so much to care about! Our friends, our adventures... this would have been so much easier if it was just me."
His shoulders sag and he slumps back on his hands. "But it isn't. If there is a way - any way - to save all that's grown dear to me, I want to seize it! I just can't fathom what that might be, other than to fail Mystra and condemn the world."
He sounds tired suddenly, and deeply sad. Rakha has no answer for him - but again, she can understand what he means. It would be easy, indeed, if she did not care for him, or the others who have become her companions. If she did not have them to guide her, and could simply indulge the beast urge in whatever maniacal bloody road it chose to lead her on.
Much easier. And impossible.
He watches her expression; it's hard to say how much of her thoughts he can guess at, but he smiles slightly.
"Stay with me, will you?" he asks softly. "I don't want to think of it anymore, but I don't want to be alone either."
Stay with him and watch the stars in silence.
She nods slowly, and lets herself sink back without a word onto the grass until she is lying on her back staring at the ceiling of stars that he has constructed out of the darkness. She lets the Weave, uncorrupted and pure, sink through her skin into her bones.
And she wonders what will become of them both.
