#24.
I saw Gale conjuring images of a woman, so I quietly approached to tease him. But when I got closer, I realized it was an image of Mystra, the goddess of the weave.
We ended up chatting about magic and the weave. I've known quite a few traveling wizards from living at the harbor, but none were more intensely focused or appreciative of the weave than Gale. Even in his parasited and weakened state, I could glimpse the power he once wielded.
I always thought he was strong, not showing the sorrow of loss he must feel—unlike me with my lost memories. But as we followed the flow of the weave together, I felt his sadness for the first time. I quickly glanced at him, and… did he always have such puppy-dog eyes?
Anyway, I wanted to weave a fun image to make him laugh, but I conjured an image of Gale and me walking under the moonlight. By the tides, I have no idea where that came from! I panicked and quickly cut the connection between us. Gale was surprised—but not as much as I was, I'm sure—then smiled. Thankfully, he smoothly changed the topic and we said our goodbyes.
Dear diary, this is just between you and me. I never expected to feel so connected to someone through magic. With all the dark currents storming through my life, I suppose I craved the warmth of kinship.













