Oblivion
From the Chronomancy AU. Not canon to the main story. Where Tavv is self-aware of my save scrapping and alternate branching timelines.
CW: major character death (don't worry it's not permanent)
I’d sworn I’d never let Gale sacrifice himself. That I’d lie, cajole, or manipulate him into staying alive, and apologize later. That no matter what, we would find another way: together.
But when we stood before the Heart of the Absolute, as the true faces of our enemies were finally revealed to us, when I saw what we were facing—a Netherbrain, the Chosen of the Dead Three, three Netherstones, a tadpoled illithid army—I faltered. What if my conviction was the wrong choice? Our enemies were all here, conveniently gathered into one place. When would we have another chance like this? When would we be able to win with one such decisive stroke? And what hope had we of facing the Dead Three’s Chosen, an unlikely band of heroes, alone?
I glanced at Gale. He was eyeballing the diadem crowning the Netherbrain with something like lust or hunger in his eyes.
“Look at that crown,” he murmured, his words slurred with longing. “It radiates with power unlike anything I’ve ever seen. To have it…to hold… If only I could…”
Alarm bells rang in my head. That look…that lustful look in Gale’s eyes…something was deeply wrong. Something I wished I had more time to figure out.
“But I can’t…” He sighed, his face resigned. “This is it. I must do as Mystra commands.”
I looked at him. So resigned, so noble, so heroic. The man I’d grown to love, even in so short a time. A man I’d die for. A man I wanted to live more than anything. And yet…
And yet, we had a chance to save Faerun. A chance to destroy the mind flayers threatening the world and the people I loved. A chance to end this, once and for all.
Wasn’t that worth one final sacrifice?
I glanced at my companions, the ones who’d chosen to come with us into the dark. Wyll, a hero through and through. He would understand this decision, he who’d chosen to sacrifice his soul to save his city. Minthara. She would not understand, but she was culpable in this. Sparing her life had been a mercy; ending it now, perhaps simply the fulfilment of borrowed time. The others awaited our return at camp, some distance away. Perhaps they would be spared, able to live out their lives. I could only hope.
My gaze drifted back to Gale. His eyes met mine: resolute. I moved closer, the words a whisper on my lips:
“Then kiss me as the world ends.”
Gale looked at me, really looked at me, drinking me in like it was the last time. Then he reached out and pulled me to him, kissing me roughly, desperately, a thousand nights, a thousand lifetimes, jammed into one final kiss. I wished we had more time. Gods, I wished for that. It was cruel, how little time I’d had to spend with this wonderful man.
As his arms wrapped around me, I felt it. Felt him let go. Felt the orb in his chest ignite. It was fire, it was ice, it was light, it was darkness, it was pain. It was a thousand forest fires raging, a thousand tidal waves crashing in roaring symphony. There were screams of pain, screams of rage…
…and then, nothing. Darkness and oblivion. The end of all things.
As if from a great distance, I watched. Watched as a blinding light eclipsed the Shadow-Cursed Lands. Watched as my companions writhed in horror as their skins cracked open and new mindflayers were born. Watched, as a swarm of illithids descended upon the Sword Coast. Watched, as the horde consumed the ones I loved.
Watched, as my failure was made complete.
I was nebulous, a haze, a vague spirit upon the Fugue Plane. A soul with no allegiance, no home, unclaimed by any god. I floated. I watched. I felt everything and nothing.
I was not.
And then, a voice in the darkness, commanding and regal:
“This was not the ending Fate had in store for you.”
Darkness descended upon me. Blackest night. Solid and real. Not nebulous, not hazy. I felt…corporeal. I felt…alive.
I woke up.
Above me stretched the blue and gold linen of Gale’s tent. Beside me, gentle snores emanated from Gale’s side of the bedroll. I looked over. Brown waves tangled messily over the blankets, his bare shoulders exposed to the chill of morning. I pressed a kiss to his shoulder.
He stirred, turning over and regaling me with those adoring bedroom eyes of his.
“Good morning, my love,” he murmured, reaching out to touch my cheek.
I leaned in and kissed him with fervent passion, remembering how it had felt to kiss him as the world ended. He froze in surprise for half a second, then chuckled and pulled me closer to him as he kissed me back with equal fervor.
“To what do I owe this lovely surprise, hm?”
“Gale,” I started cautiously, “do you remember what we did yesterday?”
Gale’s eyebrows shot upward in surprise. “Why, we spent the majority of it killing a particularly nasty necromancer and his minions in Lady Shar’s temple. Hard to believe you could forget, it was a particularly pungent ordeal.”
I frowned. He seemed to have no memory of our invasion of Moonrise Towers. Outside the tent, I heard voices, laughter, the crackling of the campfire and the rustling of plates. Our companions, alive and well, untransformed.
If this was Elysium, I’d gladly take it. But no, if this was Elysium, surely Gale would remember his final sacrifice.
What sorcery was this? Had Fate truly turned back time itself? Was I being given a second chance?
“Is something the matter, love?” Gale asked gently, his fingers caressing the side of my face.
I shook my head. “Just a nightmare.” I leaned down and kissed him. “But it’s over now.” I leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Everything is wonderful.”
I had been given a second chance. And I sure as the Hells wasn’t going to waste it.
Gale was going to live this time. And I, with him.
We would find another way. Together.
divider credit: @curiouswisp
