This piece is by Thander Lin. I do not know who it is of but, for me, it shares a lot in common with how I imagine Amber. The eyes! Elodie would be swooning 😉
28th Mirtul, Year of Three Ships Sailing (D.R. 1492), close to highsun.
Outside of the estate, we walk north together for a time, before parting to each attend to our separate affairs. I believe that this night’s task weighs on each of us. And we each plan to carry the burden in our own way.
Deeply preoccupied with thoughts of Shadowfell and Hag covens, I barely notice that I have arrived at my Temple. I pass quickly into my room and hurry towards the writing desk near the window.
“Good day, Elodie.”
Aubray’s calm voice greets me from her corner of our shared chamber. I ought to have considered that she would be here! It is now close to highsun.
“Hello, Aubray!”
I turn to her, trying to hide my startled response. She is sitting gracefully on the edge of a pale blue divan, her darker blue cloak draping elegantly around her. The scent of tulips and mint wafts towards me.
“Did you see? I left you a note. To tell you of my late arrival last night and of my leaving early for battle training this morning. Did you receive it? I left it so that you would not be worried about me again. You were not worried, were you?”
Now that my initial surprise has passed, I am very happy to see her.
“Yes, I got the note. I was not worried.” She sighs quietly, pulling the cloak more tightly against the chill sea breeze that finds its way in through a nearby window.
“Are you well? Do you feel ready for this evening’s task?” I ask anxiously.
“I have been preparing as much as I am able to,” she responds seriously. “I feel ready. But I would like to know more about these friends of yours. The ones who will be accompanying us. Tell me more about them so that I may know what part they can be expected to play in your battle.”
“Well,” I begin enthusiastically. “That was what this morning’s exercise was all about. Mirt was testing us, examining our strengths and strategy as we battled together. I believe that we will complement each other very well.
There is Eliana – she is a human archer from the North. Dedicated to her goddess Mielikki and very adept at tracking. Deadly with her bow. Eliana’s roommate will join us too. She is a young Firbolg who, I believe, may not know her own strength yet. But is also an acolyte at Eliana’s temple and is a gifted healer.”
Aubray raises her eyebrows in unspoken question.
I pause, then continue more hesitantly.
“I have had some concern about Sister joining us. I am not entirely sure how old she is. And we know that the Hag feeds on children. She may need to shelter with you, in your protected circle. Her gifts may be invaluable to us in our struggle, but yet, I do not want her in danger. It is difficult…
And then there is Vaikner, of course. He is a Drow and a gifted wizard. I believe that he…”
“Wait, go back, Elodie.” Aubray interrupts with more energy than I am used to hearing in her voice. “I thought I heard you say that Vaikner was a Drow?”
“Yes,” I answer promptly. “He is a Drow that has come to the Deep to escape the evils of his clan. I believe that he comes from a prominent family in Menzoberranzan. And is desperately trying to leave his past behind him. He is working hard to do good here in Waterdeep…”
“Oh. A good Drow.” Aubray’s voice is witheringly cold. “Do you trust him?”
“Well, yes…” I trail off, confused and worried. “I think so. I have seen his kindness and determination to help others. I have also seen him seemingly blinded to everything by his voracious hunger for knowledge. And he did have that deeply evil book…
I suppose…I suppose that I would very much like to trust him but I find some of his actions troubling. And his motivations perhaps remain opaque to me.”
“I see.” Aubray continues to gaze at me frostily.
“Oh!” I continue hurriedly. “He has finally found the temple of Elistraaee in Waterdeep. He was happy about that.”
“He is a follower of Elistraaee?” Aubray asks sharply.
“Yes. He is.” I respond, uncertain how to read her tone. “He told us of his visit there this morning. They call themselves Dancers and gave him dancing shoes. Which, as it turns out, is actually a sort of code for a fencing blade…”
“So he is a Blade Dancer?” Aubray again interrupts.
“Well, he is a wizard. I believe that he has just started taking lessons in the proper use of the sword. So, more of a Blade beginner. Or Blade Novice?” I suggest weakly.
I do not know how to respond to this new guarded intensity in my roommate.
“That is a terrible name.” Aubray states flatly.
“You never like my names for things!” I protest, hurt.
“I thought that ‘posse’ was fine. I believe I told you that at the time.” Aubray snaps, then quiets herself with a deep breath.
Tense silence stretches out. The sun twinkles in through the colored panes of glass in the room’s casements.
“Elodie, you are from the far North. You have experienced different threats. Who are your People’s greatest foes?” Aubray asks with renewed patience.
“Giants. And…and Dragons.” I answer quietly.
“Yes. And, when those foes choose to attack, how does it go for all?” Aubray continues, more serious than I have ever seen her.
“It does not go well.” I mumble, starting to understand.
“No, it does not. It never does. Well, I am from Evereska. Our foes come from beneath the ground. The Drow have attacked and ravaged my People’s homes over and over. They do not come to dance.” Aubray finishes heavily.
Hair streaming behind me, I fly over to Aubray’s divan. Dropping onto my knees, I clasp her hands and hide my face in her lap.
“Please forgive my thoughtlessness, my dear Aubray!” I cry out through the muffling folds of her cloak.
“Get up, Elodie. Stop being foolish.”
Aubray’s voice is back to its usual impatient drone. This is a hopeful sign. Still, eyes swimming with guilt and lips trembling, I look up into her face earnestly.
“Can you forgive me? I am afraid that, in the excitement of this city and all its varied inhabitants that I have been meeting, I forgot…that is, I have become used to only considering the actions of those around me as they happen now. I have been setting aside the past and any connection to evils that may have been committed by…by those that came before.
I believe that I have been very happy to do so because…because of my own peculiar heritage. I know what my Father’s People have done in Calimshan. And it has been more than tempting to forget that for a time in the bustle of the Deep.
It has been easy for me to do in Vai’s case because, as you say, I have no grief-filled history with his People’s crimes. As you do. I should not have forgotten how difficult this would be for you.
You should not have had to bring up my own People’s foes for me to understand your pain. When I think upon it even a little, I believe – no, I know- that I could never become friends with a Dragon! No matter what!”
Aubray wriggles her hands out of my fervent grip, then pats the side of my head awkwardly. I sit back on my heels, continuing to gaze up at her with great remorse.
“You do not have to come to the manor tonight.” I choke out. “I understand if this is too much to ask of you!”
“I will come. I am doing this for you.”
Aubray rolls her eyes at my delighted intake of breath when I hear her words. I feel my heart lighten with joy anyway.
“I said that I would help you and I will do so. But you need to tell me about something like this next time, Elodie. I am just glad I found out now, before having to meet him in person. This way, it is not as much of a shock and I am less likely to…harm him.” She finishes moodily.
Promising to always warn her of any potentially disturbing qualities in future friends and allies, and pleased to have some good news to share with Aubray, I now tell my dear roommate about the moon-touched blade that Saer Hilde has lent me for our battle.
“I would like to see that, please.” She reaches out her hand.
I rummage in the storage area under my bed and, withdrawing the short sword, reverentially unwrap it before handing it to Aubray.
She looks at it closely, holding its softly glowing blade up to the light.
“Hmm, Dwarf-made, I see. It is quite fine.” She acknowledges grudgingly.
“What are you going to do now?” Aubray enquires. “More training?”
I put the sword safely away and turn back to the writing desk.
“I have some letters to write. A report for the Elders to finish before this evening. Just in case…so that all of my actions are outlined for them clearly.” I say quietly.
Aubray nods in understanding.
“Well, I suppose that I will leave you to it then. I will go.”
She says this in the long-suffering tone of mild aggravation that I now recognize as baseline, unruffled Aubray. I am deeply relieved that my failure to warn her about Vaikner’s Drow identity has not troubled our precious friendship for long.
“Yes.” I am already absorbed in my writing. “I will be back here to get you at one hour before sunset. Please be sure to be ready on time.”
She leaves the room noiselessly and I immerse myself in my work. Having finished a detailed summary of my activities and discoveries only the day before, I have little to add to my report to the Aerie. Still, I carefully update my notes. I will send the lengthy packet with the standard winged messengers that traverse the lonely skies between Waterdeep and Pelvuria.
Then, wishing to send at least a brief summary in more urgent fashion, I break up my narrative into a short series of dense messages. None of which exceed the length allowed by a Sending. I hope to persuade the Grand Heron to transmit the entire series as a sequence of enspelled messages and thus bring my Elders the most crucial information within the day.
Lastly, allowing myself to dream of home and remember the loving embrace of family, I write to Father and to Mama. I have kept up with letters to them also and do not have much news to share. I simply set down some of my favorite recollections of our times together and tell them how much I miss them. I hope that they will be proud of me.
My packet of letters prepared and left with the helpful acolytes of the Grand Heron for delivery, I continue my preparations. I sit, engulfed in fragrant steam in a bathing room until the aches of this morning’s exercise have left my muscles. Then I dress in light but comfortable clothing for the evening to come. It is a painful wrench, leaving Quen behind. But I have Vess and Saer Hilde’s moon-touched blade. And my daggers.
I breathe deeply and slowly at the open window; in prayer to my Lady of the Winds. Then, taking a last look around, I leave my bed chamber and continue out of the Temple grounds. There is one more visit that I would like to make.
My mind still far away in Pelvuria, with my family, and my People’s quest, I walk east through the Deep.
I decide to make a stop for provisions, wishing to return Ambrosius’ generosity in sharing his meal with me when we last met. The worst of the highsun bustle has passed but Hriat’s Fine Pastries is still very busy. I quietly join the throng waiting to reach the counter, breathing in the fragrance of buttery pastry and savory fillings.
My thoughts return to my troubling conversation with Aubray. Fretting about the upcoming meeting between my friend and roommate, and my other friend, Vaikner, preoccupies me until I realize, with a start, that I have reached the front of the line. I have not at all considered what to order! The plump Hin woman behind the counter arches her eyebrows with smiling impatience as I hastily review the selection on offer. A rumble of muttered complaints presses in on me from the queue that surges behind me. Mildly panicked, but recalling Eliana’s and Floon’s rapturous praise of Hriat’s products, I point out a variety of pies. The server’s grin is now sincere as she helpfully fills a large woven bag with steaming hot bakes. Soon I am leaving the shop with a dozen assorted pasties. Remembering Amber’s liking for spice, I made sure to include several fiery meat pies.
Lugging my tasty-smelling burden, I come up to the northern gate of the City of the Dead. Peering beyond its iron bars, I see the familiar winding paths and quiet flower gardens. But no Ambrosius and no Elves. Feeling a little foolish, I call out in Elvish, hoping that Celanye or one of the other Soul Fletchers is on patrol and close enough to hear me.
Silence. Interrupted only by the curious buzzing of a wasp that also seems to approve of Hriat’s baking skills and is determinedly looking for a way into the bag.
Sighing, I look around. Seeing nobody nearby, I make my decision. Eyeing the top of the fence and stretching briefly, I spring up, envisioning a confident vault over the barrier and onto the gravel path beyond. Perhaps the morning’s sparring has left me sore, or, more likely, the additional weight of the bag of pies has affected my trajectory. Mid-leap, I feel a jarring yank backwards and my teeth click together painfully in my mouth. Rather than leaping gracefully over the gate, I find myself crouching awkwardly atop it, prevented from further forward motion by something firmly grasping the back of my coat.
Hoisting the bag, I twist uncomfortably to investigate the trap. The wasp, irritated by my apparent evasive maneuvers, has found me again and starts its hopeful exploration of my burden once more. Seeing that the tail of my coat has caught on an ornamental curlicue adorning the iron bars of the gate, I mutter a quiet Avariel curse. This does little to relieve my feelings.
My time in some of the Deep’s less savory locations has expanded my vocabulary. Perched painfully on top of a fence, teetering like a clumsy hatchling about to fall out of its nest, seems like a fine moment to practice some new choice phrases.
“Hrast!” I expel on a frustrated breath.
It is surprisingly satisfying.
“Hrast!” I repeat, much more loudly, as I carefully coax the leather off the pesky decoration.
“Saer Skyshard?” A familiar voice hails me from below.
Oh no.
“Saer Skyshard, is that you?”
Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.
Finally freeing myself from the gate, I bound down to the ground. Belatedly regaining a little of my poise, I land on the gravel path directly in front of Ambrosius. I smile winningly and brandish my bag of pastries, momentarily wasp-free.
“Hello! It’s me, Elodie!” I announce the now-obvious fact of my visit.
“I am so sorry to climb over your fence. I just…I did not see anyone and I really wanted to speak to you. I have some important matters to discuss.”
My words spill out hurriedly while I take in his welcoming smile. And realize, yet again, that I had not misremembered: his eyes really are that lucent amber hue.
“I am very happy to see you! To see you safe. Are you safe? I mean: has all been quiet here? Have you and the Elves had any difficulties? I hope that you and your family are doing well?”
I gulp in a much-needed breath.
“Elodie, please do not apologize! I am very happy that you are here. I regret that you were unable to get in. We will have to make some better arrangement for your visits…
I am very well. I have not had the chance to see my family since you and I last talked, but I believe that they are all well. Thank you.”
He pauses, likely mentally reviewing my flurry of questions and confirming that all have been answered.
“I feel very much recovered now.” He continues. “I have been on my rounds but, thanks to the Soul Fletchers, I have been able to keep up with patrol and also take time for all my other duties. And still be able to rest a little.
Thank you again for sending them here! They have been of great help. We have had one internment in the past days. They stood guard nearby – but very respectfully and at some distance away. They are really a credit to their Temple, to all the Seldarine.”
I beam proudly.
“And are you able to communicate with them as needed? Have you been talking much together?” I ask.
“Well,” he pauses, a little sheepish. “Through no fault of my excellent tutor, certainly…rather, perhaps, I am not the best student…maybe it is my accent…we have had a little trouble. But still, we have managed. Between the words of Elvish that you have taught me, and the Thorassian phrases that the Moon Elves know, and some hand signals. We have gotten along.”
“Well, you have only had one lesson.” I say magnanimously. “I would be happy to continue teaching you, when we both have time to spare.”
“Thank you Elodie, I would like to continue with our lessons.” He smiles.
“I suppose there have been no further incursions by the Restless Dead.” My voice drops a little, fearful of what the answer may be. “I imagine you would have told me directly if there were any attacks?”
“Indeed, all has been quiet. Since we have started to lock the gates during the day, we have seen no further signs of any disturbance or of any attempted necromantic rites. The Restful have been at peace.” Amber confirms.
“That is good news…” The tempting smells wafting from the bag in my hand and the renewed irate buzzing of the wasp remind me of my errand.
“I am sure that you have duties now and I do not mean interrupt your patrol. I would like to talk to you but I can join you as you walk if you would not mind?
Or…well, you were so kind to share that lovely meal with me when we last met. I know it is past highsun and you may have already eaten but I wanted to bring you something in my turn. If you have already had your meal I am sure that they will keep for later.”
I hand him the bag. Custody of the wasp is also transferred at that moment but, as Amber is once again clad in his protective blackened steel armor, I feel that this is an acceptable risk for him to take on.
I see his arm dip under the unexpected weight of the food. He looks up at me, smiling a little shyly.
“I have not eaten yet, as it happens. I confess that I have fallen into the habit of sharing my highsun meal with the Lady Blackcloak. She always brings enough food for a cadre of hungry warriors and we eat together. These past days, with the City shut down, my meal schedule has become a little disordered.”
He opens the bag, peering inside curiously.
“Are these Hriat’s?”
So far, all the Humans I have met in Waterdeep assume a tone of hushed reverence when referring to these pastries.
Seeing my nod, his smile widens. “Well, there seem to be a great many of them here. Have you eaten, Elodie? Will you join me?”
“Thank you. I also am late with my highsun meal. I had a very rich breakfast this morning. So am only now starting to feel hungry. But the smell of those treats is certainly doing the trick!They do come highly recommended by Eliana and Floon.” I inhale happily.
“Floon…he is Lord Neverember’s son’s love, is he not? The one you saved when you first united with your current companions on a rescue mission?”
Pleased that he remembers the details of the tales that my companions and I have shared, I nod.
“How are Floon and Renaer? Have you seen them often since that night?” Amber asks politely.
“Oh, they are very well!” I beam.
Thinking back to the morning I can almost feel Floon’s crushingly enthusiastic hug and smell his orange flower perfume. And hear Renaer’s thoughtful voice taking on dreamy, covetous tones as he talks of the finest observatory outside of Silvery Moon.
“I just saw them this morning and they are both in good health. Floon was his usual large-than-life self. It brings joy to my heart every time I see the two of them together.”
Amber smiles.
“I am glad that they are happy. I know a little of Renaer from our boyhood and used to run into him at the occasional formal gathering. I have withdrawn from much participation in such social events. And I imagine, given who his father is, Renaer’s social life has also become rather…limited.”
“Yes.” I agree, grin fading. “He does not speak of it very much but, from the little he has said, it is clearly difficult for him. He suffers sadness, and some bitterness, I am sure. But at least he has Floon.”
I hesitate, not wishing to intrude on Renaer’s privacy by revealing the additional comfort he surely derives from his life as an active Harper.
“And now he has us, his new friends.” I finish with conviction.
“Then he is fortunate.” Ambrosius responds warmly. “Shall we eat?”
“Yes. We can walk if you need to continue your patrol.”
Once again, I appreciatively sniff the aromas wafting from the bag.
“No, I can pause for a time. If you would excuse me remaining in armor. We can sit close by here. There is a beautiful tree near this path that will give us shade.”
He leads me a little way along the white path to a glade a short distance away. The tree arching over this clearing, its leaves whispering welcome, is indeed very lovely. I have not seen one like it before. Its leaves are a dark and glossy green. And, scattered evenly among the verdant backdrop, its lily-like blossoms are each the size of my cupped hand. They are made up of narrow, waveringly curved petals that fade from crimson at their base through orange to clear yellow at the tip. The petals are widely separated at their stalk but then curl inward, arching up like cradling flames warming something precious at their heart. They are intricate and beautiful and I stare for a while, captivated, before realizing that Amber has found us a seat on a shaded patch of lawn
I join him under the lantern tree and sit close by him so that we can both reach into the bag containing our meal. Impressed at the wasp’s determination at following us this far, I reach for a particularly sticky pasty. It did not weather my fence-leaping well and has split along one side. Sunny apricot preserves have leaked out, smearing over the turnover’s surface. I carefully set the messy treat on the grass a good distance away from us. So that my little friend can enjoy his own private feast. The hungry insect is mollified. It is now very quiet.
“I have something that I would like to tell you, Ambrosius,” I begin, absently licking jam off my thumb and considering my own pie selection. “Vaikner and I both wanted to talk to you about this.”
Amber has just taken a happy bite out one of the meat pastries but now he stops, looking around a little anxiously.
“Vaikner? Is he here?”
“No, no!” I chuckle, remembering the cause for Amber’s sudden chagrin. “I am sure he would have liked to see you and to share more of his Art with you. But I wanted…that is, I thought that it would be better if just you and I met today.”
“Oh. Yes. Certainly, Elodie.” Amber pauses in his suspicious inspection of the tree trunk behind us.
“A very gifted wizard.” He mumbles, resuming his meal.
The pastry is very tender and splinters into light-as-air flakes as Amber takes another hearty bite. A buttery crumb remains, perched on his upper lip. Just at the corner of his mouth. Unthinkingly, I reach up to brush it away. He flinches very slightly and I watch his skin turn a tone darker as he blushes. I hope that I have not made him self-conscious about his meal. Then, with sudden awkwardness, I realize how intently I have been staring at his face. The pastry morsel is gone and my finger is now just gently tracing the line of Amber’s mouth. Shocked at myself, I snatch my hand back.
I rummage busily in the bag, grabbing the first pasty that my fumbling fingers encounter. Then, looking down at the grass and offering no preamble, I hurriedly begin updating the Doomguide on my thoughts concerning the past days.
“Ambrosius, during our brief time in Waterdeep, my companions and I have noticed some concerning events. The Wazoo just yesterday carried the story of the Thayan embassy that has been opened in the Deep. An enclave of Red Thay, here! Arriving and establishing itself over the past tenday! Perhaps it is just a coincidence, but that is also when the necromantic incursions here at the City of the Dead began.”
I finally brave another look at his face and am startled by the change that has come over his features. The blush is gone; he is now pale. His eyes are cold and stern. The lines of his mouth are tightened by anger.
“I cannot believe it is a simple coincidence.” I continue, assessing him uncertainly.
“I have heard suggested, by one that I trust, that this may simply be what it appears on the surface. The beginning of a diplomatic relationship between a powerful empire and a wealthy port city. But, knowing how central necromancy is to the magic of Red Thay, knowing the power of their wizards…
No. I am concerned that they are using the embassy as a screen behind which to plan some kind of attack on Waterdeep. Using the City and its Restful to strengthen their incursion. I do not have any proof, only suspicions. And I am sorry not to bring more than that to you. But Vaikner and I both thought that you should have this information. At least, this way, you can be on your guard.” I finish breathlessly.
“Indeed. I do not think that your suspicion is unfounded.” Amber says in a low voice.
His lips twist in revulsion and he seems to spit out his next words.
“Thay, an entire empire founded on the hideous practice of necromancy. And, indeed, led by an unnatural being. By all accounts Szass Tam is a foul lich. He is a corruption of everything that my Lord Kelemvor stands for! Twisting the living, denying the Restful peace and natural transition to their intended purpose…
I am not a diplomat but I do not understand why this idea was even entertained! To allow an enclave of Thay, a part of Thay, here. It is a stain on Waterdeep!”
He inhales slowly, clearly focusing his will towards calming himself.
I am untroubled by his vehemence. I myself have been judged as too impassioned; too impulsive in expressing my emotions. And I have learned that there are times where blunt honesty must be tempered with gentleness and kindness. But I think that I will always have difficulty understanding why worthy feelings should be kept hidden in the heart.
Seeing his righteous anger I think back on the night that we first met. I remember the furious resolve with which he fought the Undead. I am happy to have such a fine comrade. A stalwart ally in the endless battle against those who would bring pain to the innocent.
“I am troubled as you are, Ambrosius. I understand why you feel the way that you do about the Red Wizards. I too have reasons to despise them. And to distrust their motives. Even beyond their vile use of necromancy…”
There is so much that I need to tell him.
“What do you mean, Elodie? What reasons?” He looks at me searchingly.
“That is one of the things I wanted to talk to you about,” I hesitate. “But first, I wanted to say that, while I know I am coming to you with distressing news and nothing useful yet to show for my concern, I also have some hope to offer. While there is no proof of their involvement in the recent necromantic attacks here in the City, we are at least not alone in our vigilance. There are now those that will be helping us! Who will be keeping a watchful eye on the embassy and finding evidence against the Red Wizards. If there is any to be found. Are you familiar with Mirt the Moneylender?”
“Of course,” he replies slowly. “I do not think that there is anyone who is not. Many people believe that he is a Masked Lord of the City. The only one whose identity is known. It is considered the worst-kept secret in Waterdeep.”
“Is it now?” I laugh. “I can well believe that. Mirt’s reputation is certainly legendary and I have found the reality to exceed the tales in some respects. Like how many eggs he can consume in one breakfast sitting.”
I shake my head at the horrifyingly compelling memory.
Amber frowns, confused.
“It was our shared friend, Renaer, who introduced my friends and myself to Mirt. And he has very kindly taken an interest in our company. He has been most generous with his time.” I explain.
“I am sure that he has.”
Strangely, Amber’s voice has chilled and his eyes are stormy.
“Is something amiss, Ambrosius? Is your pasty too heavily spiced?”
“No, no! The food is very good. It has brought back memories of when I was a boy. When my sister and I would visit the Deep and stop at Hriat’s for a snack. The taste takes me right back to those happy afternoons with Cassia.” He says quietly.
Looking over at the tall knight next to me, I try to picture him as a little boy; eagerly looking forward to an afternoon pastry treat. I smile through my concern.
“I am glad. That you like the pastries and that they bring you the joy of good memories of time spent with your sister.” I reply shyly.
“You have…you bring me joy, Elodie. You bring joy with you. I am sure that others have noticed that too. That is only to be expected…” He finishes in a low voice.
Thrilled by his words, I am unable to form an answer. Happiness and confusion war within me. But he still seems dejected. I find my voice, hurrying to finish my tale. It is sure to cheer him.
“Thank you Ambrosius. I…I believe that I was telling you about Mirt. Yes, he has been very kind to share his time and experience with us. Especially as he has just rekindled a relationship with an old paramour of his and is surely quite…preoccupied with that.”
Throaty laughter bubbles from me, unchecked, as I think of my encounter with Uza.
“You should have seen us this morning! We were at Mirt’s estate, working on our company’s battle tactics, and I attempted to take the lady hostage. To gain leverage over Mirt.” I stumble over my words, once again searingly uncomfortable with the ruthlessness of the plan I decided to effect.
“Anyway, she struck me over the head with a ham shank and then poured gravy over me with a ladle! And then Mirt flung me half-way across the training yard for daring to touch his lady! They are so well-suited to each other. It is beautifully romantic and moving…”
I sigh dreamily, musing on how these two heroic warriors have found love together again.
“And still,” I meander my way to my point. “Mirt has been training us even though I am sure he would much rather be…well, they call it reminiscing but I unfortunately happened to be present for some of it last night and it is something much more…strenuous. If you understand what I mean.”
“No. What do you mean, Elodie?” Ambrosius asks innocently.
I look at him, flushed and a little giddy. My tale of this morning’s ridiculous events has indeed cheered him. His eyes are sunny again and he smiles teasingly. Does he really wish me to answer his question?
“Um, these pastries are really rather spicy…” I splutter, fidgeting at the sudden warmth rising into my face.
“But really, a ham shank and a ladle, Elodie?”
He relents, though I still hear laughter in his voice.
“Oh yes! In fact…” I freeze in horrified realization.
I have great respect for Vaikner’s workings but I have never put the efficacy of his cleaning charm to such a demanding test. Sitting so close to an observant friend…
“My apologies, but it is likely that I still smell like ham.” I finish, my hair curling up in withering embarrassment.
Amber leans in a little closer to me. I fear that this is going to be very awkward.
“No, Elodie,” he says softly, after a pause. “You smell as you always do. Of winter snow and spring flowers.”
Oh!
“You smell very nice too.” I whisper.
Again, I cannot collect myself sufficiently to say more. He is so near. I want to tell him that he smells of leather, of a freshly rain-washed spring morning, and of some deeper, almost incense-like, fragrance. Like balsam pine in a wintry forest…
But his presence has me too intoxicated for speech right then. Instead, still breathing him in, I barely notice when a questing lock wafts free of my restlessly shifting hair and ripples towards Amber. It brushes over the side of his jaw, and then settles on his shoulder.
We sit quietly for a little while before, forcing myself to focus, I continue recounting what has happened over the past days.
“Mirt shares our concern about the presence of the Red Wizards in Waterdeep. He has engaged to have his people…well: they will infiltrate the embassy. They will monitor the situation there and bring out news. Gathering proofs, if any are to be found, that the Thayans are involved in necromantic activity here in the City of the Dead. This, I hope, will be of help to you.” I finish.
“Hmm…that is welcome news.”
Amber stares thoughtfully at a patrol of Soul Fletchers passing by on a distant path.
“It makes sense that Mirt has the contacts and resources to mount that kind of investigation. Another poorly kept secret, or, perhaps I should say, generally held suspicion, is that he is very active in the Harpers. They have connections to most matters of import here on the Coast”
“Really?” I say steadily.
“Oh yes. I know that I read my share of chapbooks as a boy.” He recollects smilingly. “My friends and I would pore over the gripping stories of Mirt the Merciless and his Harpers. They were all breathlessly brimming with their heroism.”
“Then you and I…researched…the same materials!” I say in delight. “In my case, I successfully persuaded the librarians in the Aerie that the books were legitimate study sources. Important to my lessons on Human society. We both grew up admiring the legendary exploits of Mirt and his companions, it would seem. Certainly, meeting him in person fulfilled one of my youthful ambitions. And he truly is larger than life.”
“Yes he is. In all ways.” Amber agrees.
“What do you think of the Harpers?” I ask, pleased with my nonchalant tone.
“Well, they are an organization that has many of the same goals as our Order.” Amber pauses, collecting his thoughts. “They go about achieving their goals differently though.
As you know, Elodie, the Order does not consider thought, speech, or even intent, as evil. We only react to, or punish, the evil act. The Harpers on the other hand…they choose to try to prevent the evil act. The difficulty with that is that, in many cases, this means the preemptive punishment of those who have not yet committed any ill deeds. In the name of stopping their future crimes.
The Harpers operate in the shadows and, in some of their methods, it becomes difficult to distinguish them from those that they are supposedly working against. You may have heard that they employ assassins? No? They are known as the Harpers’ Blades…
There is much that I admire about the Harpers but also much that troubles me.” He concludes.
“I can understand that.” I respond in a low voice.
Amber has in fact voiced much of what made me uneasy when I made the vow to join
Those who Harp. My new concern, hearing his opinions on the Society, is how and when to tell him that I am a newly inducted member.
It would be unworthy to keep this secret from him. As my comrade in the Order of the Gauntlet, I believe that I owe him loyalty. And I know that I can trust him with the information. But I am worried that he will disapprove of my decision to join the Harpers. And I have so much that I still wish to talk to him about before the new moon rises! I do not want to become even more distracted from the challenges facing me in Trollskull Manor this evening.
“You have given me a lot to think about, Ambrosius. Thank you.”
I choose to leave further talk of the Harpers for another day. I flick my hair impatiently, trying to ignore the irritating suspicion that this decision is driven more by my fear of what he will think about me than by any other, more sensible, consideration. Gritting my teeth, I am certain of one thing. I really do not like secrets!
Some secrets, at least, I will not keep from him any longer.
“There is something else that I would like to talk to you about.” I continue. “Our last time together…well, I knew it would have to be brief as I had already promised to meet Eliana and Vaikner later that afternoon. So, while I started telling you about my Mama, I stopped before telling you all.”
Amber nods encouragingly as I take a deep breath.
“You know that my Mother’s People are Elves. But…but, more precisely, they belong to the Avariel. They are Winged Elves and my home is the Aerie of the Snow Eagles, last safe home of the Avariel.”
Wonder spreads over Amber’s face.
“The Avariel…” he breathes quietly. “I have heard a little of them. But I always believed that they had left us, that they were gone from this world. I imagined that such beautiful beings would have perhaps retreated to the Celestial planes.”
“No, the Avariel have remained here in Faerun. But my People had to go into hiding. For their very survival.”
I recount the history of the Winged Elves to Amber. My voice low with pain and bitterness as I detail the unspeakable losses the Avariel suffered, their struggles when they were kept from the skies they loved, and their gradual weary dwindling. Then I speak of the hope of discovering a new home, the long labor to build and protect a haven for the remaining Winged Elves, the return of the freedom of the skies. I tell Amber of the thriving Aerie and of the harmonious and joyful society that the Winged Elves have created there. And, finally, of the growing disquiet among my people. The slow seeping away of warmth and safety. And of the Tears of the Seldarine and the quest to find these gems that may help bring the Avariel hope and a secure haven once again.
There is a long silence after I finish my tale. The sun is descending towards late afternoon and deep gold rays find the blooms on the tree above us, outlining them in flaming light. The peaceful warmth of the early summer air slowly soothes me back to the present.
“Elodie…” Ambrosius’ voice sounds far away, as if he is still on the Great Glacier, still watching the ages pass and, with them, the story of my People.
“When I met you here in the City of the Dead, I recognized that you had some serious purpose in coming to the coast. But I did not know that you were in Waterdeep on a mission of such grave significance to your own home. And, knowing what I now know of the threat to the Avariel, I am moved by the faith you showed in me. To tell me of all of this.”
“I trust you.” I reply simply.
He lowers his head in a brief bow, as if acknowledging a gift. Then raises his face back to me, his eager eyes taking in my features as if for the first time. Raptly, he continues:
“You are Avariel. I should be filled with…with disbelief and wonder to be speaking to you. To be in company with such a rare being. One that I thought only lived now in legend. And I do feel great joy to hear about the Winged Elves and to meet one of their family. But…but I do not feel disbelief or surprise.”
I look at him questioningly but say nothing.
“It is just that…” his voice falters a little but then he squares his shoulders and goes on.
His deep, warm voice surrounds me; his words my sole focus.
“I am one whose studies have had me looking down for a long time now. To the earth, to the deep, quiet places. To the care of the Restful and the worship of my Lord Kelemvor. But, in these past days since meeting you, I have found myself looking up.”
“You have?” I barely manage, uncertain if I have spoken loud enough for him to hear me.
“Yes. I have been looking to the sky. Looking with joy. It makes me think of you. I realize why that is now. I had thought that, perhaps, the streaming clouds reminded me of your hair. Or that the cerulean blue made me think of…”
He trails off, a little huskily, and the afternoon is quiet again. But the air has thickened with unspoken words.
I try to breathe and feel a little gasp escape me. Shock and happiness to hear what he has said? Or disappointment that he remains silent now? I am not sure.
I am not sure of anything other than my feelings are swirling wildly. I feel little lightning sparks prickling at my scalp, threatening to burst out along my mutinous tresses. I clasp my hands tightly together and sit very still, looking intently down at my lap. Sternly, I concentrate on avoiding another uncontrolled eruption of stormy hair. The silence stretches out.
“Forgive me, Lady Skyshard.” Amber’s pained whisper breaks into my tightly coiled focus. “I have said too much, I have distressed you…”
“Oh no!” I cry out, aghast at the idea that he has so mistaken my silent tension.
I look up unthinkingly and, caught in his eyes, the words tumble out helplessly.
“No! You have not distressed me at all. It is just that… looking into the sky is a dizzying feeling. It can feel quite like falling.” I tell him.
I am enchanted by his closeness.
‘That…that is what I feel.” He whispers.
Glowing, warmed by the smoldering amber of his clear eyes, now I cannot stop speaking.
“The skies are freedom. And yearning. Loneliness. And wild unfettered joy. If those are things that you want…”
He nods very deliberately.
“Then keep looking up.” I say softly. “And if you fall too far, I will catch you.”
“I know. Thank you, Elodie. For…for the skies.”
We continue looking gravely at each other. Having shared these words, I now feel both calmer and more uncertain. As if, while I was wavering alone on the edge of a precipice, somebody stepped forward and firmly, surely, took hold of my hand. But we are still standing, balancing together, one step away from a fall into the unknown.
Shyly, I take up our conversation again.
“For my part, since I have met you, I have found myself looking inwards. Into myself and other people. Into those still places within. Where calm contemplation can turn into healing and rest. Thinking about how you do good there, in that quiet space. In the past days I have encountered grief that has made me think with growing awe and admiration of the work that you do.”
Darkness gathers in front of my vision and the rich colors drain from the afternoon as I speak. Ambrosius’ face fills with concern as I tell him about the company’s experiences in Undercliff. I do not hold anything back; I share both the sharp sick terror of fighting the fungus monsters in their decaying land, and the creeping fear of unknown contagion remaining after the battle was won. And then, worst of all…the wrath and grief of the people left behind.
“And so, we defeated these corrupted plants and mushroom creatures. And, at least for the present, banished whichever fungus demon was behind the contagion. But it was not enough.
It was too late for the boy in any case. The Sweetwater boy. He was dead. Horribly. And his family completely bereft.
And even the Snobeedles, who we were sent to help and who all survived…how will that little girl recover? Her grief and her innocence used in such cruel ways! Her childhood stolen from her! And her older brother? Missing his father and feeling inadequate to take up his position. Not helped by his mother who clearly feels too little faith in her son. And the whole family’s bonds fraying because of the missing middle child. Who may not even be alive now, no one knows!”
I breathe rapidly, looking away from Amber’s frowning face. I realize that I am speaking faster and faster, and that my voice is rising in pitch. I fear that I am beginning to sound like a fledgling fluting in complaint. But I cannot stop. The pain spirals out, along with the words.
“They were broken, that family. And I did not know how to fix them. I kept thinking of you and wishing that you were there. Because I was sure that you could help them where I could not…
It was so hard, just listening, and nodding, and then saying goodbye. I just thought…I thought that winning a battle would feel more victorious! And instead, each fight makes everything more complicated. There is always a cost that I do not see at first. Or someone pays a price that I did not intend…”
Wind whistles hollowly around a nearby mausoleum. Shame seethes inside me. The next part of my tale rises like bile in my throat. I choke out the bitter details of our encounter with Kaylin the Informer. And of our later discovery of her terrible death.
Sharing that last story leaves me sickly hollowed out. During the telling, I have huddled down, moving away from Amber. Now, hugging my arms around my knees, hands clasped to keep from trembling, I curl up around my heart’s hurt. My hair coils tight.
I feel a desolate longing for home. I know that there, whether it would be from my Mama, from Gáire, or from another faithful friend, my dejected pose would quickly draw solicitous attention. I imagine the whispering sweep of feathers, the fresh icy breeze fanning in, and then the downy comfort of an Avariel wing gently curving in around me. I crave that silent support against sadness. Offered freely, without needless word or questioning look.
Here there are no wings. And the air smells not of frost but of salt water and sun-warmed stone. My breath catches in my throat and I berate myself inwardly for my weakness.
I catch movement at my side and startle slightly. Pausing a moment when he sees this, then continuing soothingly slowly, Ambrosius reaches towards me. He lays his strong hand over the top of mine, covering my fingers with his and pressing gently.
“I am so sorry for what you have been through these past days, Elodie.
I will agree with Eliana as far as saying that, it is true, Kaylin made her own choices. As do we all. And we must all bear the results of our choices. But I would suggest that we look a little deeper into the effects of Kaylin’s decision to sell you information.
Remember, we will never know all that she did in life. Who she served and why. But, again, remember, motivation is not what matters to us. It is the result of the action that matters. And the result here…of course, Kaylin tragically died. And please do not think that I am saying that one life has more value than another. But Kaylin’s choice, her giving you that information even when she ultimately died for it, allowed you to rescue Floon and Renaer.” He squeezes my hand reassuringly as he speaks.
I look up at Amber slowly. I had not thought of my new friends’ rescue before this. It brings unexpected comfort. Gratefully, I slip a hand free from its tense grip around my knees and place my fingers lightly on top of Amber’s hand, where it is still gently laying on my other wrist. He immediately turns his hand, rotating it upwards so that our palms face each other. Slowly, giving me time to pull away if I should wish to, he intertwines his fingers with mine. I exhale shakily and a little bit of color starts to come back into the day. I do not pull away.
“Without Kaylin’s sacrifice, whether she meant it for good or not, Renaer and Floon may well have been killed.” He continues.
“Instead, you saved them and their love. Did you not tell me how much joy it brings you to see them together? This is a good thing that you did. Their love enriches our world. And, by all means, grieve for Kaylin. But do not take the burden of her death on yourself. You were working for good, saving two loving friends. And she, by her choice, helped you do that good thing. The nobility of that act will follow her and will be known by those who meet her when her deeds are weighed in the City of Judgement. Let that comfort you. Grieve for her but do not feel bitterness.”
The guilt and pain that have held me frozen start to thaw as I absorb his gentle words. The resulting relief is too raw yet to speak, but I look what I am feeling at him and I think that he understands.
“As for Undercliff and those unfortunate families…”
He sighs.
“Truly they have seen great heartbreak. They, as you say, are badly hurt. But people are not things, Elodie. If a thing breaks, you can fix it. A broken person…well, that is not something that can be quickly mended. Not by me, or you, or anyone. All you can offer are the things that, as you said, seem so small. You can listen and show kindness and courage. And hope that slowly, slowly, with time there will be healing.”
He smiles and squeezes my hand.
“You did help. You made sure they had their lives, safe and to do with as they will. And you listened and you were kind. It is like with a broken bone. You can straighten the ends and set them with a strong splint. But you do not expect the bone to knit overnight. All you can do is give it the support it requires to heal. And, eventually, it will recover. It may be stronger or weaker than before. It will always be different. But it will heal eventually. You and your friends, that night at the Meadery, you set the break. It was a good thing that you did and I could not have done any more than that.”
“Thank you for all that you say,” I shake my head slowly. “I still feel that, even as I am learning more about what it is that you do for others, I am less sure how you are able to do it. I see that it requires faith and patience that I have yet to learn. But I am very grateful to you. And I am sorry to have brought all my woes here today. It is just…I have felt very burdened these past days.”
“Please do not apologize!” He responds feelingly. “I am glad that you talked to me. Remember, when we first met you were here to help me in my need! If it was not for you, the Tchazzam family would be unquiet; escaped and tormented by a necromancer somewhere in the Deep.
Instead, they are back at rest and we have been able to guard against any further desecrations.
And now…we are comrades in the Order, you and I. Between us it is not about debt and obligation. We are here to support each other, always. It is simple: I am here to help you as you are here to help me. There is no need to talk of burden or apology!”
I bow my head in relieved acquiescence. Then, only half aware of doing so, I extricate my hands from our shared grasp and start clasping and re-clasping them tightly against my belly.
“I am glad of it.” I whisper nervously. “Because, I am afraid I have one more favor to ask.”
I peek at Amber, taking heart from his encouraging smile.
“What is it, my…” he stops, biting his lip. “Lady?” He finishes a little awkwardly.
“Tonight is New Moon night and my friends and I plan to rid the manor of the Hag. We have uncovered enough information about this haunting that we are now convinced that, to destroy It fully, we will have to follow the creature to Its dark haven. Into Shadowfell.”
I swallow hard and watch Amber’s smile fade.
“This is a place that I have no wish to visit. And that I fear that I am not prepared for. Ambrosius, I…I do not fear death. Not in battle, for a just cause. But…”
I look around quickly, making sure that we are alone before continuing.
“But I am afraid.” I admit quietly. “What I fear is becoming trapped in that place of shadows and deceit. Or, worse yet, of being allowed to return but of being changed. Turned to evil by something that I encounter in the dark.”
Having spoken the worst aloud, I continue more slowly, needing him to understand.
“The night I met you Ambrosius, you healed me and I was able to see the light inside you. I saw who you are. And since then, whether because of this knowledge or because of…of something else, I have been able to talk to you more openly than anyone else that I have met here. I trust you above others. And therefore you know more of me than others do.”
He is looking at me with such earnest, fearless kindness and all I wish for is to lean into his scent and let my restless, yearning curls surround us…
I force myself to continue.
“I am sorry if this is uncomfortable. I do not share these feelings to distress you or make you feel burdened. I just want to explain why I feel that I need your help rather than anyone else’s. If we both survive this coming night, then I engage to come back here tomorrow. With your knowledge of me and the Divine gift granted to you by your Kelemvor I would ask that you test me. I believe that you can confirm that I am still the real Elodie. If I am not…well, I cannot be permitted to harm anyone. That cannot be allowed to happen. Do you understand?”
He has not turned his intent gaze away from mine while I was speaking. Now I see his warm eyes fill with a misty grey light. It glows silver for an instant, and then fades.
“I see you as you are now, Elodie.” He speaks with quiet gladness. “Pure and uncorrupted and filled with resolute purpose. In the Wards outside, so much of society is willing to see the world in shades of grey. It has been a comfort finding someone who thinks as I do. Who sees that there is darkness and there is light. And tries so hard to fight for the light.”
His voice rises, in the clear tones of valiant promise.
“If, when I look at you again, I see anything other than I see now, I swear that I will do everything in my power to cleanse you. I will not allow…I will find a way. No evil will come to the world through you, I promise.”
Exhaling the last of my pent up tension, I realize that much of the sick fear I felt about this evening has left me, replaced with stoic acceptance of whatever the Lady will bring. I know that I can rely on Amber to keep his word.
“But, Elodie,” he resumes.
His voice is once again low and warm, touched by his usual calm humor.
“I have seen you when you fight. With those Undead…it was like you were dancing. And, in the Deep itself…well, the Zhentarim and the Xanathar Guild are both blights upon this land. And you and your friends have already raised swords against them both. And now you mean to help the spirits of these children at the old orphanage. You are formidable! Do not be afraid. I believe that you will soon be striking fear into others.”
I grin, feeling more like myself than I have since hearing of Kaylin’s death.
“Yes, I think that I will plan on doing just that. Even if Eliana is unable to see how terrifying I am.” I mutter this last.
“Although, I must be cautious. We have been warned that our dark emotions can be distorted and exploited in Shadowfell. So I cannot be wrathful. Unless it is a righteous anger?” I finish uncertainly.
“You can do this, Elodie. You will do this. And then you will come back here to me. And I will see you, filled with light and purpose. The bringer of joy. And of pastries.” He smiles.
“I will. I will come back.”
The wasp has gone, curled up somewhere sleeping off its triumphant jam coup. We pack up the remaining pastries and I convince Amber to keep the bag for later snacking.
Then, looking to the lowering sun, I ask him to open the Cemetery gate for me. I still have to take Vess to be blessed, and then pick up Aubray on our way to Trollskull Manor.
Enjoying the quiet, we walk wordlessly together to the gate. Amber unlocks and swings it open, stepping aside with a courtly bow.
“When I come back,” I begin, “I promise to be more mindful of how much I speak. I talked a great deal today. And…and there is so much that I would ask you and hear you say. On my next visit, I will be much more quiet.”
“I would see that as a great disservice.” He objects. “I liked hearing you talk today.”
“Well, perhaps the conversation can be distributed a little more evenly between us.” I allow.
I pause to consider the upcoming hours.
“I am not sure how long clearing the manor will take. And I have a borrowed sword – Saer Hilde Drosshelver from the Order’s armory kindly lent me a moon-touched blade to help with my task tonight. I promised that I would return it to her unscathed first thing tomorrow. And I asked if she would show me some of her fight moves. She was altogether too gleeful when she agreed. I believe that she means to smear me across her armory yard.” I say ruefully.
Amber chuckles sympathetically.
“Yes, I believe I still have the bruises from my last training session with Saer Hilde.”
“Well, as I do not know what the coming night and day will bring, perhaps I will simply plan to be back here, back at this gate, at sunset tomorrow?”
“At sunset tomorrow.”
He turns to face me, standing straight and placing his closed fist over the insignia of Kelemvor marking his chest plate. Holding this salute, he blesses me.
“May your appointed time here be filled with honor and purpose. May your sword strike true.”
I look up at his face, then place my hand over his, over his heart. I return his blessing.
“May the Lady’s sweet breath surround you. May your skies be clear and safe.”
Then, unable to keep proper composure any longer, I quickly turn and walk away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hope that you enjoyed this account of Elodie and Amber’s (and the wasp’s) second date. Two Paladins, encumbered by shyness and each burdened with more than their fair share of propriety, honor, modesty, and other irritatingly inhibiting qualities…
Well, this was always going to be about intense yearning rather than anything more…physical. But, as I have fully embraced my identity as @purpleproselady, it will surprise no-one that this is my absolute favorite kind of writing! Outside of actual smut. The build-up, the tension, the need: it is so deliciously fun. And, thanks to my GM-husband, I was fully able to indulge in this scene in-game. The development of Elodie and Amber’s bond is really important to me and he was willing to role-play this with me away from the table. So that we could take time over their conversations without boring our friends to cringing tears. And without any of the embarrassment that might detract from acting out a romantic scene in front of others. I can be all saucy Bard when I write, but I align more with shy Paladin when I game. I am working on that…
So, we leave Elodie preparing to enter Shadowfell. She has very little confidence that she will return. Or at least, return not seriously scathed. And thus I was really happy that, before this descent into the dark, she could have an interval of introspection, healing, joy, and all the wonderfully awkward moments that go with being newly smitten with her Doomguide.
For the lessons and healing conversations that Elodie has with both Aubrey and Amber:
Here Comes a Thought, Steven Universe
I found new covers of two songs that I previously picked for Elodie and Amber’s first meeting:
Like a Prayer, Choir Version from Deadpool and Wolverine. This has the same perfect lyrics but a much different feel. I much prefer this for the moment where Amber heals Elodie.
Bring Me to Life, Evanescence (no rap version). This is the artist’s preferred version and, while the angsty teen in me will always love the original, this seems more timeless.
This song is for how Amber sees Elodie in battle. Or rather, as he envisions her enemies when they face her anger:
Hurricane Coming, The Heavy
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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