Gale stared out toward the campfire from his tent, a solemn expression on his face. For an entire year —a year—he’d yearned for even the slightest modicum of hope for regaining Mystra’s favor. He yearned for it more than anything. More than esteem, more than power, more than air in his lungs. And apparently, as he was quickly learning, more than life itself.

Mystra finally broke her years of silence to send Elminster to him with a message—use the devastating power of the Orb in his chest to destroy the Absolute. A death sentence. A sacrifice, so that he may join her in her realm and earn her forgiveness. It was a burden only he could shoulder, and it was far heavier on his heart than it was his shoulders.

Taviera crossed the camp, dressed in her camp clothes, and there was a determined gleam in her eyes that immediately made Gale’s hackles rise. By the Weave…help us all.