26th Mirtul, Year of Three Ships Sailing (1492 D.R.), a little after eleven bells after highmoon
Heart and steps light, I leave Tyr’s Temple. Passing through the outer courtyard of the Halls of Justice, I notice one of the trainee warriors with whom I had shared words of encouraging advice earlier, on my way in to see Saer Savra. I wave to her cheerfully. She looks at me, dazed and disheveled. Another fighter steps in to engage with her just as she lifts her hand weakly in a return wave.
“Be patient!” I call helpfully through my slightly guilty grimace. “The skills will come with time and training!”
As highsun draws near, the streets grow crowded. The frowning sky and the chilly, brine-laden wind off the harbor do nothing to dampen life here. Which, at this time of day, is being lived in the open air. Glad sounds buffet me from all sides: children laughing, horses snorting and jangling their harnesses, wheels briskly clattering over cobbles, trades people loudly announcing their wares and raucously sharing jokes and insults. The sour, fruity aroma of ale wafts through the edges of my air. It is quickly followed by the oven-mellowed yeasty comfort of freshly baked loaves, the smoky succulent char of grilling meat, and the savory sweetness of frying onions. I breathe in deeply and happily.
I pause in the square outside the Halls of Justice, considering. I am to meet Eliana and Vaikner back at the Temple of the Seldarine. But not for over an hour yet. And I am brimming over with joy and excitement now, in this moment! Excitement that I fervently wish to share. Hair whipping in the cold wind, I think over the happy events of this fine morning. I am very thankful to have been accepted into the Order of the Gauntlet; filled with solemn gladness that I am to continue following my Lady’s path amongst these stalwart friends. I am delighted that Aubray wishes to help me. To assist the fledglings trapped at Trollskull Manor. And I am profoundly relieved that the Soul Fletcher has consented to dispatch her Arrows to aid Saer Everrest at the City of the Dead.
The City! Of course! Burbling laughter escapes me as I wonder at the slowness of my wits this morning. Why did I not realize it before? Visiting Saer Everrest at the City of the Dead is the correct and proper way to pass the time that I have to spend before meeting with my friends!
I have been thinking about my encounter with the Doomguide frequently since last night. He was so kind! It would be returning his courtesy to assure him that he may rely on the Temple Elves to help him stave off further incursions by the Undead. I am sure that he will be relieved to hear this news. Also, I should very much like to tell him that I successfully joined his Order. And to thank him more…coherently… for healing me of my wound last night. Biting my lips, I reflect that it is likely my failure to fully express my gratitude to him that has been behind the faint unease that I have felt since I left Saer Everrest’s side.
Heart lightened by my decision, my feet fairly fly along the cobbled streets. My earlier study of the map of Waterdeep in Volo’s book serves me well as I hurry around carts unloading wares and queues of people waiting at food stalls for a tasty highsun meal. I avoid the worst of the bustle, arriving, via several quieter back streets, at one of the western gates of the City of the Dead.
The gate is closed and locked. A flicker of motion in the verdant gardens beyond catches my attention: it is a trio of Moon Elves on patrol. The Soul Arrows have already arrived! I do not recognize any of them from my brief time at the Temple but I call out a ringing greeting in Elvish to get their attention. One Elf leaves the group and runs gracefully over to the barred gate.
“Hello, Sister. How good it is to see you here!” I smile at her. “I am Elodie, Elodie Skyshard. I am Aubray’s Plaavir’s roommate. I am sure that you know her.”
“Ah, yes,” answers the Moon Elf. “I am Celanye. I believe that we have you to thank for the information about the Undead and for this posting.”
She unlocks the gate and invites me inside with a fluid gesture.
“Yes. I hope you have had no trouble so far” I look past her, my gaze sweeping the paths.
All seems peaceful.
“We have seen nothing to trouble us.” Celanye confirms. “It has been quiet here.”
“Do you know where the Kelemvorite, Saer Everrest, is? I need to speak to him on urgent business.” I turn back to the Moon Elf.
“The Human Knight?” She cocks her head to one side, considering. “I am not sure where he is now. He walks around visiting the small churches here. I believe he was headed south when he last passed us.”
“I thank you!” Then, proudly sharing my newly acquired knowledge, I continue. “And they are not small churches. They are mausoleums. The Humans build them to inter – perhaps I can tell you all about them when I have more time. But now I must go. Thank you again and may Aerdrie Faenya’s kind breath bring sweetness to your days and soothe your nights!”
I follow the stone path south. The sun is starting to find its way through chinks in the cloud cover. Where the glints of gold light fall, they coax flashes of vibrant color from the flowers lining the walkway. And reflect in dazzling glimmers off the white pebbles of the path before me, illuminating my way. There are no other visitors to the City today, and it is easy to spot the lone figure on patrol. As before, the Knight’s back is turned to me as I approach. This time though, he hears the tinkling crunch of my hurried steps from afar. Before I have time to hail him, he spins gracefully about and sees me. Saer Everrest goes still for a moment. And then reverses course, walking with measured steps in my direction. Seeing his tall form draw near, armor sullen soot-black in the shy sunlight, my own skipping steps falter and slow. Unaccountably flustered, I study the Doomguide now standing before me.
He watches me as I gaze at him. He remains serious but I am relieved to see that he looks less strained. The sick pallor is gone from his face. His hair, black and glossy as a starling’s wing, makes a lovely contrast with his light golden-brown skin. His long tresses are pulled back neatly and hang in a thick tail down his straight back. Looking at his eyes I breathe in sharply, marveling. I did not misremember – they really are that lucent, that warmly radiant…
There is nothing grave about his eyes.
“Lady Skyshard. This is a pleasant surprise.” There is gladness in his voice and I feel a smile light up my face, unbidden.
“You look much healthier!” I beam up at him.
Then, thinking upon what I just said, I wince and briefly close my eyes. My hair, all restless ringlets, curls even tighter in embarrassment.
“That is – you look as if you have been able to rest a little and recover from your labors of the last days!” I blurt out. “I hope that this is so.
“Indeed, yes.” He is smiling too.
I am distracted by the charming little crinkles that form around his eyes.
“Thanks to you and your companions, who brought me much needed aid last night. I am so grateful to you all. And now, the Moon Elves are here assisting me further. It has allowed me to resume some of my regular duties. Again, thank you, Lady Skyshard.” The Doomguide bows.
“You are welcome.” I am determined to match his courtesy. “But I also wish to thank you. I do not believe that I did that. Not properly. When you healed me during the battle last night. You saved me. Thank you.”
He shifts uneasily, smile falling away.
“You and your companions came to my aid. You were hurt because you were helping me. You owe me no thanks.” He frowns.
“Also,” I continue quickly. “Ever since I found out about the the existence of the Order of the Gauntlet yesterday, ever since Saer Savra told me of the work that they do, I have longed to join them! I felt my Lady’s breath guiding me, calling upon me to help with their noble purpose! And it was thanks to you speaking for me, thanks to your letter, that I was permitted to do so. Thank you for that too. I took the oath with Saer Savra this morning!”
I bring my hand to my throat, picking up my fine new chain and proudly raising the gauntlet-gripped blade insignia up off my breast to swing between us. Silver glints as the little sword flashes in the sun.
Saer Everrest’s eyes flick down, then back to my face. He cannot have rightly admired the lovely amulet in that brief glance. I gesture with my chin to draw his attention to the necklace and, his cheeks a little flushed, he reluctantly looks down again. This time he seems properly impressed as he gazes awhile, preoccupied, at the sparkling pendant.
“That was the least that I could do,” he finally says, looking back up at my eager face. “But congratulations! I am glad that you were able to join, Lady…Saer Skyshard.”
“I think that perhaps…” I pause, fighting through shyness as he looks at me steadily. “Since we are to be comrades-in-arms, I would be pleased if you would call me Elodie.”
His serious face becomes boyish when he smiles. “Of course, Saer Elodie – ”
“No. I mean…I would prefer just Elodie.”
“Of course…Elodie.” He says it slowly, getting used to the shape of the word on his lips. “I will call you Elodie if you call me Ambrosius.”
“Oh. Of course! I will be happy to.” His politeness should not come as a surprise but I am suddenly stammering foolishly. “Saer – I mean, Amber – I mean to say Ambrosius. I am sorry, I was just thinking of your eyes. That is, I was thinking that it was a suitable name given the color of your eyes…”
I stop speaking, realizing that I have become lost in my own tangled thoughts. I feel a hot gust of embarrassment bring its lavender blush to my skin.
“I…that is, yes. Your eyes – ” begins Ambrosius hesitantly.
“The Elves!” I exclaim with relief.
Ambrosius starts a little at my outburst. Recovering himself, he once more turns politely attentive.
“I see the Soul Arrows passing by in the distance.” I continue brightly. “It was Celanye who opened the gate and let me in to your City. I was not certain when they would arrive and part of the reason I came was to tell you about them. To bring you the happy news that the Soul Fletcher had agreed to help you. I am sorry that I was not here earlier to make the proper introductions.”
Ambrosius makes a reassuring gesture as I pause.
“What I wish you to know – the most important thing for you to remember,” I resume. “Is that the Elves of Sehanine Moonbow are here with entirely noble intentions. Their concern is for the peaceful rest of those Humans who have passed on. And for the safe passage of their souls onto the next stage of their journey. They, just as we do, abhor this foul plot of the Necromancer to steal your Restful for some evil purpose. And, under the wise leadership of the Soul Fletcher, these Elves will stand beside you as you protect your charges.
“But – well – I do not know what dealings you may have had with Elves in the past. Even if you are accustomed to the Tel’Quessir as they are in the world, outside of our Temple, you may still find the acolytes of Sehanine Moonbow a little…different. Those of my People who have given themselves up entirely to the worship of the Seldarine can be a little remote. They tend to be very focused on their given mission. And it may be uncommon for them to have dealings with any outside of Elven-kind.
“That does not make them any less worthy as allies, of course! But they can be…intense. Not all of them are as easy with Humans, as adept at care-free conversation, as I am. And, even for me, attaining this level of social dexterity with those outside of my Ae…my home, has required diligent preparation. And practice.” I finish earnestly.
Ambrosius absorbs this information quietly, his expression passing from interested to studiously neutral.
“Of course, Elodie.” He replies. “I am very grateful to have such assistance from your Temple. Small differences of manner mean very little. Not when we share the common goal of fighting against this corruption. Only the truth of our hearts matters.”
I smile, comforted by his lovely words. He is quiet again and I too can think of nothing more to say about the Soul Arrows. The Temple Elves have disappeared into the green distance and the silence grows. I fidget.
I come across Uza’s ring in my pocket and slip it onto my finger, a new idea taking hold of my thoughts. I reach for the ring with my free hand, carefully cup the small rosebud growing from the metal band, and gently draw it up. As its stem extends into my hand, the bud opens into a snowily pristine white rose. Its creamy heart is touched with the slightest pink blush. I detach the magical blossom from the ring and breathe in its apple-sweet scent.
“I wish to pay my respects to the Restful whose tomb was desecrated last night.” I turn back to the Doomguide. “I have noticed blossoms like this placed on graves around us. Perhaps, as a symbol of life among those are now gone, they are comforting? If this is so, then I would like to put this flower on the Tchazzam family’s mausoleum.”
“Certainly.” Ambrosius says warmly, inclining his head. “That is a thoughtful gesture and I am sure it will be much appreciated. We are not far from the tomb. We can go there now.”
As we walk, the Knight returns to our previous conversation.
“The Soul Arrows presence will be very helpful. But I have not been able to talk to them much. They mostly speak Elvish, which I do not know. But, now that you are here, perhaps you can help us communicate. Maybe you can translate between us when you join them on patrol?”
“Oh, I am not joining the Moon Elves on patrol!” I hurry to clarify.
I feel a pang of disappointment to have to to tell him this. But it is joined by a surge of confusing happiness to see his face fall when he hears that I am not to stay. Why should I feel gladness at his regret?
“I have business in the north of the Deep, with Eliana and Vaikner.” I continue. “I am sure that Vaikner mentioned something to you of our troubles with a Hag-haunting in an old manor there? It is a scourge that we are preparing to battle on the night of the new moon.”
“Yes, Vaikner did talk about that.” Ambrosius looks concerned. “I wish that it were happening at any other time. Then I would be free to help you and your companions as you helped me!”
“Yes, but we each have our foe to face now. Still, we are comrades in the Order! I have no doubt that we will each encounter other evils. We will be called to raise our swords together again!” I assure him.
“Meanwhile, I will come back here whenever I can. To see you. To check in on how you are doing with the Soul Arrows, I mean…” I feel that irritating awkwardness making a jumble of my thoughts again.
“If you should need me to, that is. If you need me you can send word with the Elves that are here. They will pass any message on to me. At my Temple. Or you can use this, of course!” I hold up the necklace that Saer Savra gave me this morning.
“Or perhaps I can send a letter,” Ambrosius says quietly. “May I write to you? Care of the Temple of the Seldarine?”
“Oh. Yes!” I nod eagerly and my hair swirls, tangling in my anxious air. “Yes, of course that would work too.”
The silence that follows threatens to be more uncomfortable even than the conversation that preceded it. Fortunately, we have now arrived at the mausoleum. It looks just like all of the other tombs around it. Any signs of the horrors of the night before have been cleared away.
A drowsy peace surrounds us. I place the rose carefully into a carved stone sconce on one side of the mausoleum’s door. Bowing my head, I silently apologize to the Restful within for the role that I played in their violent scattering over the grounds. It had to be done, I tell myself. They could not be permitted to escape into the Deep in their corrupted Undead forms. But now they are back safely inside, resting. Alone. In that still and stifling space.
Oppressed by the sadness of it, I turn from the tomb. Ambrosius is looking at me. His face is difficult to read and I glance quickly away.
“Have you had your highsun meal yet?” He asks.
I shake my head and he continues.
“Then, if you would join me, I would be pleased to share my meal with you. And, while we eat, perhaps you can teach me some words of Elvish to help me communicate with the Moon Elves in your absence?”
I hesitate briefly, remembering that I am to meet with my companions in less than an hour. But it is vital for Ambrosius to be able to communicate with the Soul Arrows. I can spare a little more time for this important lesson.
Ambrosius leads us north towards his lodgings. As we walk, the heavy gray-wool clouds and the threat of rain they carry move off east. The damp chill in the air departs with them, replaced by a warmer wind that dances in the flowers and gently stirs the trees overlooking the path. The sun shakes off the last of the cloud cover and radiantly makes up for a morning’s lost brilliance. The day turns warm.
The Doomguide has heard sufficient Elvish before to catch the music at the heart of the language quickly. He has a good ear and is an attentive student. By the time we reach Ambrosius’ rooms, we have covered many of the basic and most useful expressions that he may need to help him make himself understood by the Elves.
Our path winds through a grove of mossy ancient trees and then, like a friend sharing a happy secret, opens on a sunlit meadow scattered with spring blooms. There is a small house here, built of grey stone with a steeply sloping roof. Its mullioned windows twinkle in welcoming fashion as the light strikes the glass panes.
“These are the Doomguide’s quarters. My home here in the City.” Ambrosius gestures to the little cottage. “Welcome. Please, come this way.”
As the day has turned truly lovely, Ambrosius suggests that we eat outside. We pause our lesson while the Knight goes indoors to prepare our meal. Ambrosius politely declines my offer of help with his work, so I walk over to a smooth patch of grass close to his cottage. It is dappled deep emerald and pale jade by the sun which peeks through branches of a spreading plum tree nearby. I sit down in the green shade.
Enchanted by the peace of this glade, I take off my coat and lay it down on the grass next to me. Removing my sword belt, I carefully lay Quen and Vess on top of the overcoat. This morning, I dressed with my meeting with Saer Savra in mind. I wanted to look suitably neat and respectable when I applied to join the Order. So I am wearing one of my finest white shirts. The wide-scooped neck framing my collar bones and the edges of the diaphanous sleeves, where they narrow at my wrists, are finished with delicately-worked lace. The silk fabric is too filmy to wear on its own but over it I donned a corset-style waistcoat. A gift from my Papa. He obtained it during his travels and it is made of a deliciously velvety fabric. Swirling designs are picked out in clear sky-blue thread over the dove-grey background of the corset. My dark blue breeches and new Waterdhavian boots complete the outfit.
Ambrosius comes back outside, having changed his black steel armor for a simple white tunic shirt trimmed in silver and bearing his family crest in black. His dark gray trousers are topped by a black leather belt with the gold and silver symbol of Kelemvor worked into one end. He looks less grim and fierce. But still very pleasing. His clothing has the same simplicity and elegance as his armor.
The Knight lays down a white cloth on the soft green grass between us. He arranges platters of food upon it. There are small bread loaves, crusty and crisp, a plate brimming with slices of some kind of cured meat, redolent of smoke and flecked with red spice, chunks of fresh white cheese, and a bowl of plump cherries.
I feel the stirring of fond memory. As a fledgling I would always pick out the cherries from a fruit bowl, choosing pairs still attached by their v-shaped stalks. And would slip the apex of the triangle stem behind my ear, letting the gleaming coral fruit dangle on either side of my ear lobes. Proudly but briefly flaunting these juicy earrings before plopping them greedily into my mouth…
Ambrosius sees my wistful smile and looks at me questioningly as he sits down nearby.
“What a wonderful highsun feast you have brought out! Thank you.” I turn to him, beaming.
His eyes light up in warm echo of my delight and he acknowledges the compliment with a nod. He pours cold clear water into cups, one of which he passes to me. We solemnly clink glass and start our meal.
“Would you prefer that if it tasted of spice?” I ask innocently, pointing to Ambrosius’ drink.
He looks startled, instinctively jerking the cup away from his lips and staring at its contents closely. Then, glancing up and meeting the impish look on my face, he grins.
“Ah, you must be referring to Vaikner’s kind embellishment of my breakfast porridge this morning!” He shakes his head. “That was just very…unexpected.”
“Your porridge? No, I was thinking of the stew that you enjoyed last night. With the addition of the desert spice?” I chuckle.
“Ah, yes. That was delicious. And then, I believe, it inspired Vaikner to attempt further culinary improvement. At breakfast. When we were about to share a bowl of porridge. This time, though, he kept his plan a surprise. So, when I took a spoonful of simple buttered oats and encountered spicy fish stew…well, as I said, it was unexpected. But what a gifted Elf he is! And very generous.” Ambrosius says uncertainly.
I nod in agreement, trying to hold back my unseemly glee. Spicy fish stew!
“Still, I find, on a warm day like this, I prefer cool water over any other drink.” He drains his cup thirstily.
“I cannot alter the taste of food and drink like Vaikner can,” I tell Ambrosius. “But, as you say, it is a warm day. Perhaps this will be refreshing…”
I swirl breezy air towards him, cool and playful. It tumbles in restless dance and lifts his hair off the back of his neck. I think back to our first meeting. I remember my wish to share with Ambrosius some of my most precious and comforting memories of home. As my air moves about us, I realize that I have unwittingly infused the breeze with the bracing chill of the glacier and the hauntingly sweet fragrance of ice petal lilies.
Ambrosius’ eyes are wide as they fix on mine. He shivers slightly and then sits very still as the scent reaches him.
“That is… very pleasant,” he says. “You are doing this?”
His voice is calm but his eyes are filled with strange heat. Perhaps I did not make the air chill enough.
I nod slowly. I realize, belatedly, that an explanation of my ability is required. Remaining silent would be impolite. Acutely nervous, I take several deep breaths while I summon the courage to tell Ambrosius more about myself and my home.
He recognizes my struggle and, with a courtly ease that I truly envy, thoughtfully turns the conversation to give me time to gather myself.
“I thank you, that was truly refreshing. Well, as I said, I like plain water best. But perhaps you feel the lack of other choices. I am sorry I have no wine or mead to offer you.” he continues politely.
“Oh no!” I assure him. “I mean, I do like wine, of course. And have been enjoying trying other Waterdhavian beverages. I like Zzar very much and Vaikner has been so complimentary about some of the local meads that I am greatly looking forward to trying those. But I am very happy with water today. With all of this lovely meal, in fact. As the saying goes ‘The company makes the occasion’.” I attempt to be courtly also.
“We were talking of Calimshite food earlier,” he smiles at me. “Perhaps you also like exploring wine from different regions? My father has a collection of fine bottles, among them Arabellan Dry, a Cormyrian red. I am sure you would enjoy trying some.”
His previous ease seems to fail him a little and he speaks more hesitantly.
“Perhaps we could find a time when neither of us are busy and we could sample some together.” He falters, staring at my face.
“But, you are probably very busy,” he finishes speaking, downcast.
I hear Ambrosius’ invitation and my heart flutters with happiness. But his voice is fading now. My face is frozen in blank stillness and my eyes fixed, unseeing, on a distant point. All of this while, like the merry tinkling of bells through my mind, my Mama’s voice rings out cheerily.
“Hello my Starling! I hope you are well! It should be morning where you are, yes? Take care and I love you!” Kissing sounds complete my Mama’s ill-timed greeting.
I wince, taking in Ambrosius’ concerned expression. Holding up a finger, I make my face as remorseful as I can without making actual, immediate apology.
“Mama! I am well. I have news of the Tears. One is in the Undermountain, one in the Palace here, one held by Red Thay. I need to speak to the Elders!”
I have talked for too long and suspect that not all of my message will reach Mama. I still add some affectionate kissing sounds at the end. Just in case. I am sure that Mama will understand enough of what I said to realize that I have new information in my search for the Tears of the Seldarine. And that it is urgent that I make a more complete report of my findings to the Elders.
I turn back to Ambrosius. Relieved understanding and amusement play in turn across his face.
“No, I will not be busy. And I would really like to try the wines!” I blurt as his gem-like eyes sparkle and he struggles valiantly to suppress his laughter.
“I am so sorry Ambrosius!” I sigh deeply, beginning my overdue apology. “That was a Sending from my Mama. She is very far from me and we miss each other so. And, well, I needed to respond to her message. Alas, she does not always choose the time of her Sendings very well. The last time I heard from her she contacted me at one hour after highmoon, thinking it was morning. My roommate, deep in her meditation, was not terribly pleased about that one…”
Once again, the Doomguide’s sweet nature is evident: the more flustered I appear, the less amused Ambrosius becomes. He has only the smallest of crinkles about his eyes now. And his lips twitch only slightly.
“You have no need to apologize, Elodie” He says soothingly. “I understand that you must answer the Sending, naturally. And I also know that such communications can come at awkward times.
“When I was studying at Kelemvor’s Temple, in Ormath, I had a teacher who would routinely send messages in the hours before dawn. To Novitiates and Knights alike. I never did understand if it was due to his confusion or to a firm conviction that everyone else should be awake simply because he was!”
My embarrassment is lessened by his reassurances. But I remain unexpectedly anxious. Sitting up straight, I clasp my hands tightly together to still their trembling. And force myself to speak.
“Thank you for sharing that amusing story, Ambrosius. And thank you also for the moving tale that you told me about your family after we met yesterday. I was touched by your openness – by how willing you were to grant me a better understanding of you and of your calling. Now, especially as we are to work in the Order together, I feel that I wish to share more about my own family with you.”
I pause, swallowing audibly before continuing.
“As I told you, my Papa is from Calimshan but I have never been there. This is because my Mama is an Elf from the Great Glacier. That is where I grew up. My Father is a Djinn who traveled north to experience the storms of Pelvuria and met Mama near her mountain home. She was communing with the winds. They fell in love. And I…I am an Air Genasi.”
I fall silent, looking searchingly into Ambrosius’ face.
I do not see any of the shock or disapproval that I have sometimes noted when Humans become aware of my nature. I realize, as a joyous gust shimmers through my loosening curls, that I have not seen that unhappy response at all since arriving in Waterdeep.
“I am sure that you understand why I was…hesitant…to talk to you of my Papa’s heritage.” I continue, encouraged by the kindness I see in the Knight’s eyes. “The tragic history of early Calimshan, scarred by the legacy of Elemental creatures who enslaved and exploited Humanity, is well known. But Ambrosius, I can assure you that my Father took no part in this repellant practice! Nor in the foul wars that followed as the Elementals struggled for power in that place! Papa deeply values freedom. This is one of the reasons that he was so drawn to the wild skies of the North…”
I pause. Needing to catch my breath but also aware that I am straying close to ever more forbidden subjects. I want to tell Ambrosius about who I truly am, about the Avariel and about my purpose in Waterdeep. But not now. I need more time…
“I thank you for your trust in me, Elodie. And for your honesty.” Ambrosius responds seriously. “But you need not fear my judgement. You should not worry that I will think less of you because of who your people are. I see only you. That is, I mean…I saw what you were willing to do yesterday. How you helped. I know that you are a good person. Regardless of who your family may be.”
He coughs and his dark brows draw together in a slight frown.
“Of course, I am sure that your parents are very nice!” He hurriedly adds. “That you are here, ready to wield your sword to protect good in the Deep, tells me that they raised you well.”
My glowing smile banishes his frown.
“I only mean that I believe, fully and unreservedly, that our worth should be judged by our deeds. And not by our heritage.” Ambrosius says.
His words are similar to Eliana’s yesterday. She stepped between us, during our argument outside the Blackstaff’s Tower, to remind me to have faith in Vaikner. Now Ambrosius, too, speaks with similar wisdom and compassion. I am delighted that both my new friends share the same noble convictions. But I admit that I enjoy listening to Ambrosius talk on the subject much more.
“And what of your family, Ambrosius? Are they here, in Waterdeep?” Relieved that the Doomguide accepts my Element-touched nature, my words flow more smoothly.
I breathe in the smells of sun-warmed grass and dark bread and Ambrosius’ citrus-spiced soap. And listen happily as he tells me more of his home in the north of Waterdeep. And of his family. I find out that he has a sister. Her name is Cassia.
“She has always been strong and practical-minded.” Ambrosius smiles fondly. “She has a keen business sense and is a most capable manager. Which, I am sure, is a great relief to all. When I felt a calling to Kelemvor’s service, all of the family responsibilities fell to her. But it was always clear that our affairs would be admirably taken care of.
“This made my leaving the Deep, leaving the life that I had led here, a little easier. Now that I have returned…well, I still have my duties here in the City. But I do try to see my family whenever I can.” He says.
“That is very commendable.” I nod. “It is obvious that you care for them very much. I know how difficult it is to be apart from those you love. I understand the sacrifice…I admire your strength in keeping true to your calling.”
Ambrosius shifts a little, uncomfortable with the praise.
“I am glad that you have an older sister to carry your family name and obligations.” I pivot to a more cheerful thought. “This must make it easier for your family to be supportive of your chosen path. Which is difficult enough, without the added burden of knowing that you may be causing pain to family. It is not easy when those you love clearly wish that you would do something other than what you know you are called to.”
I pause in glum reflection.
“Of course, in my case, my family was usually wishing for me not to be doing something:
‘No, Elodie, you cannot spend the entire day with Dwarven younglings! They may explore ice caves all day but you have your studies!’
‘No, Elodie, you cannot search out Snow Eagle nests! I do not care how detailed the map in that book is! The birds will not appreciate such visitors and you will only get injured!’
‘No, Elodie, you cannot correct the sword grip of a more senior Warden during training! You must learn when it is wiser not to speak.’
“That last lesson is one that I am afraid I have yet to learn.” I admit, sighing ruefully.
Ambrosius’ shoulders are shaking.
“Oh Elodie! I fear that many of us find that a very difficult lesson!”
I like hearing him say my name through ringing laughter.
I suddenly ache with realization: how I have missed that! When is the last time that I heard anyone speak my name with mirth and affection? With Altiir there was always excitement and adventure and, eventually, longing. But, as we grew out of fledglinghood, there was less and less laughter. With an impatient whipping of my air, I dismiss these rogue thoughts. I prefer to remain in my sunny present. Still, I am a little startled and cannot entirely shake the troubling question: how can it be that I am sharing so much joy with a Doomguide in a garden for the dead?
“And how have you found Waterdeep?” The knight’s question captures all of my eager attention once again. “Which sights have you enjoyed? And is there anywhere in particular that you would still like to visit?”
I briefly consider sharing the entire list of Volo’s must-see attractions for visitors to Waterdeep. I have it memorized. I decide, however, that this may be a little unmanageable…
“I have found myself entirely captivated by your home, Ambrosius. By both the good and the bad.” I begin enthusiastically. “There so much of beauty here. And also so much that is disquieting. It has been exhilarating and jarring and, well, all very educational! And there are so many fragrances…
“I am most fascinated by the Walking Statues. Each one is so different but each one is haunting in its same frozen stillness. I find the Lady Dreaming the most eerily compelling. And Vaikner and I would both particularly like to explore the inside of the God Catcher.”
“Well, that should be simple enough to arrange.” Ambrosius replies easily. “Seeing as Lady Aundra lives inside the sphere and owns many of the other homes built within the statue.”
I stare at him, torn between my eagerness to immediately ask more about Lady Blackcloak’s holdings, and guilt that I had not yet thought to enquire after the gardener’s well being after her ordeal of the night before.
“I hope that Lady Aundra is well?” I exclaim. “I hope that she did not come to any harm during the attack?”
“She is well.” Ambrosius reassures me. “She made it out of the City safely last night. And she returned to tend the gardens as normal this morning! But of course, as I have closed the City to the public today, I asked her to return home.
“I am very happy to hear that she is alright. She seems most devoted to her work here.” I relax.
“Yes. It is a volunteer position but Lady Aundra loves flowers and wishes to make the City of the Dead more beautiful. So she spends a good deal of her time here and I am very grateful for all that she does. It is all the more remarkable because she does, in fact, own much property in the Deep. She is not, by primary training, a gardener.” Ambrosius explains.
“I believe that I must apologize to Lady Blackcloak. And to you.” I say sheepishly. “She is clearly a good friend to you. But, before Eliana confirmed that the stew was entirely wholesome, that it was, in fact, a genuinely thoughtful gift, I had suspected Lady Blackcloak of being in league with the vile Necromancer.”
I peek guiltily at the Doomguide as I speak. Judging by his barely suppressed smile, it seems that Ambrosius forgives me my error.
Conscience duly eased, I am once more filled with excitement. I cannot wait to tell Vaikner what I found out about Lady Aundra and the God Catcher statue! Oh no – Vaikner and Eliana! I am to be at my Temple at one hour after highsun to see my companions! I am not sure how much time I have passed in the City of the Dead but I am certain that I will be late. I need to leave at once!
“Thank you so much for the lovely highsun feast!” I refasten my sword belt and shrug on my coat, flustered. “I am afraid that I must leave now. I forgot – I have to meet with Eliana and Vaikner!”
Then, remembering the original purpose of our shared meal,
“Here is one more Elvish word that is useful. Namárië – that is, farewell.” I try to smile.
Ambrosius rises and steps lightly over the remains of our meal until he is standing close next to me.
He holds his hand out courteously.
“That is my least favorite of the words I have learned so far.” He says quietly.
Unlike last night, when I was still stunned by my injury and his unexpected gift of healing, today I am perfectly capable of rising on my own. But I am suddenly breathless. I reach up and take his hand. His grip is warm and strong. Even once I am up on my feet and standing in front of him, I carefully remain very still. So that he does not feel that he has to take his hand away. Also, I am slightly dizzy. Confused, I desperately try to conceal the intensity of the emotions surging through me.
There is very little that I can do about my hair. Always traitorously revealing of my moods, my curls now straighten out to my hair’s full length. And then dance about in a restless, silvery-white veil around me. Equally beyond my control, my stormy air gusts about us both. Catching and tossing up blushing pink and white plum-tree blossoms until Ambrosius and I are standing in a perfumed, whirling cloud of petals.
I look up at his serious face and my mind empties of anxious thoughts. I feel lost and I trace his fine features like a map. I encounter warm brown eyes; their steady jeweled depths feel like my path home. I fall into his intense gaze. The passage of time is marked by my rapid heart beats and his slow calm breaths.
“I would really like to call you Amber…”
I am not sure if I shyly whisper this. Or only think it. I am not certain how long I stand there. I suppose that I will be late for my meeting…
My meeting! I am never late! The glowing, spinning petals drop with near silent patter onto the green grass. I release Ambrosius’ hand and begin to stutter goodbyes once again.
“I will come back when I can! I would like to come back and walk here. It is so peaceful and lovely after the bewilderment of the Deep!” I babble as I turn towards the closest path.
“Come back whenever you would like Elodie” he says.
Looking back, I see him wistfully raising his hand to wave as I walk away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hope that you enjoyed this chronicle of Elodie and Amber’s first date. A picnic. In a graveyard. Let’s face it, when two virtuous young Paladins try, with admirable self-restraint and sadly sweet shyness, to navigate their overwhelming, um, affection for each other, minor details such as, you know, their physical surroundings, are just not that important…
I am having so much fun with this :).
For Elodie, as she skips her way down the City’s paths to see her Doomguide:
Les Deux Pianos, Yann Tiersen.
When Elodie lays the rose on the Tchazzam Family grave:
Deep Stone Lullaby, Michael Sechrist, Skye Lewin, Michael Salvatori, Various artists.
When Elodie gives Amber, um, chills with her air:
The Mercy of the Wind, Million Eyes.
For Elodie and Amber’s picnic:
The Flower Garden, Joe Hisaishi
Please also visit my playlist on Spotify. I will be populating this with all of our campaign tunes as we adventure onwards:
Tears of the Seldarine 
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