"Some believe that strength is the courage to walk alone. Fools.
Strength is having someone by your side, even if it makes you vulnerable."
Teralis, priestess of Sune
Third Lower Day of Mortis, 126 HR
There was neither day nor night on the Ethereal Plane. But the small pocket containing the palace of the Godsmen, the planar headquarters of the faction, simulated daytimes and seasons. Dusk and dawn, the moon traveling across the night sky, flowers blooming, leaves falling, snowflakes gently fluttering down ... Ambar had incorporated all of this many years ago, when a devastating ether cyclone had destroyed the old headquarters and a new one had taken its place. Of course, nostalgia had been one reason for this. He had grown up in the forests of Fayrill in the Outlands. Sunny afternoons and starry nights had accompanied his childhood and youth, as had the changing seasons. The magical sphere in which the new palace now stood, like inside a snow globe, had been formed by powerful spells. Some high-ranking wizards of the faction had created it, but the factol had also infused it with his own bardic magic. And sometimes, during winter, it really did look like one was gazing into a snow globe when viewed from the outside.
At the moment, however, it was summer in the palace - though not in Ambar's heart. As he walked along winding paths of light-colored stone, past flower beds and a quiet pond dotted with water lilies, he was deep in thought. Thoughts of what lay ahead ... ahead of Lereia, himself, their friends - but above all, ahead of Sarin. He had, in a way, urged the paladin to promise the kiss, and he didn't feel good about it. Of course, it had been purely out of his burning concern for Lereia. Nevertheless, he had apologized to Sarin for it – but the paladin had rejected his apology. He had assured that he alone had made his choice, that no one had pressured or even forced him except his own conscience. Still, Ambar felt guilty that his relief at Sarin's decision had been so great. He stopped at the edge of the pond, under a tree with shimmering leaves that murmured softly in the wind. Between its branches hung small threads of light that glowed like shooting stars and trickled down slowly. A few glowing dragonflies flew across the lake, leaving behind sparks that burned out after a while. Dawnwings from the fairy realms. When they touched the water, there were short, bright sounds, like plucking a harp.
Soon, Ambar thought. Soon everything will be decided. And every step we take could be the wrong one. Next to him grew a rose bush whose blossoms were not red, but a shimmering silver. They smelled like a never-ending summer - and reminded him of Lereia. Sometimes her hair had exactly that same shine. He bent down and touched a flower. It felt cool, almost like moonlight. His feelings for Lereia had changed, slowly, almost secretly, but steadily and inevitably. And now he felt more for her than he dared admit to himself. At the same time, he knew that such feelings could be dangerous in the maelstrom of current events.
A bright, giggling sound made him look up. Kayedi hovered above the roses, barely a foot tall, her light blue wings fluttering up and down behind her back. She looked at him, shaking her head. “You look like you're about to carry the entire multiverse on your shoulders, Ambar.”
“It feels a little like that,” he answered with a sigh. “Of course, I can't say that I'm under as much pressure as Sarin. Still ... tomorrow is definitely weighing on my mind.”
“Maybe you should distract yourself a little,” his familiar suggested. “Would you like to sing something for me?”
Ambar shook his head apologetically. “I'm not in the mood to sing right now.”
The pixie crossed her little arms and looked concerned. “You're almost always in the mood to sing. I don't like this, Ambar.”
“Neither do I,” he replied, turning his gaze back to the pond. “But there's something ahead of us that may have greater implications than we can currently grasp. Something that feels ... wrong.”
Kayedi tilted her head. “And yet you're not thinking about the faction or Sigil right now. You're thinking about her.” Her tone was teasing, but her eyes were serious.
Ambar was silent for a moment, but finally nodded. “Perhaps it's foolish to think about something like happiness in the midst of all this.”
“My strength, huh?” Ambar murmured as his gaze followed the dawnwings circling above the pond. “I wonder if I ... can really open myself up to those kinds of feelings again.”
Kayedi rose from his shoulder to flutter beside him in the air again. “If you ask me, it's high time. Since Caye's terrible death, you haven't always been alone. But it was never ... well, real and deep. Since then, you didn't open up to anyone the way you did back then.“
”That may be the elf in me,“ Ambar replied seriously. ”The elves of Fayrill only bond once, and then for life.”
His familiar eyed him warmly, but still poked his cheek admonishingly with her finger. “However, you are not an elf, but a half-elf. And you haven't lived in Fayrill for a very long time. It's been eighty years, Ambar! Even for a fairy, that's a long time. Like everyone else, you have a right to be happy.”
“I ... I don't doubt that,” he defended himself. “It's just ...”
“You're afraid of being hurt again.” Kayedi perched on his shoulder once more. “That's perfectly understandable. But you have to overcome it, my friend. You've already mastered many of life's trials. You have to stop running away from this one.”
“Ouch.” Now he laughed a little. “You're using my own faction philosophy against me? What kind of practices are those? And from my own familiar, no less.”
“That's what I'm here for,” the pixie replied promptly. “A familiar who just nods and stays silent all the time would be boring, wouldn't she?”
He smiled. “True. And you're right. I promise I won't run away from my own feelings anymore.”
“Very good, that's what I wanted to hear.” She teasingly tugged at a strand of his hair and grinned mischievously, but there was warmth in her eyes.
Ambar smiled gratefully at his familiar. Kayedi's words had given him hope, and everything felt a little easier. He breathed in the scent of the silver roses, cool as moonlight in the warm air. For a moment, everything seemed possible - even happiness.
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