Gale spoke of Mystra, the Goddess of Magic, so frequently that you could have sworn he uttered her name more often than yours. You bit your tongue, even as your stomach clenched when he described how Mystra had taught him as a child and then loved him as a man. The nature of their relationship disgusted you, but you always swallowed those thoughts. She was his Goddess, someone he would follow to the ends of the earth if she asked it of him. She did.

The Cult of the Absolute proved to be a greater threat than anyone had anticipated. As you stood overlooking the army commanded by the Absolute, it was difficult to feel optimistic, difficult to be confident that you would make it out of this alive. When Mystra sent her Chosen to give Gale his charge — to detonate his Netherese Orb, sacrificing himself to save the world — you felt sick. It took no small amount of convincing to turn him from his Goddess, but you managed it. You convinced him to stay, to see this fight through to the end.

When entering the City of Baldur's Gate, Mystra requested for Gale to speak with her in the city's tabernacle. He was eager, nervous, and ready and you supported him. In the tabernacle, Gale vanished, enveloped in a starry purple fog. He was gone for what felt like hours but it was only a few minutes before the wizard returned to the mortal plane. You both opened your mouths to speak but before you could you were pulled from him by the same starry purple fog.

You found yourselves in an endless sea of stars and clouds, enveloped in a comfortable warmth and the sweet scent of rosewater. Before you stood the Goddess of Magic herself, shimmering as if her form were forged of stardust.

"You have turned my Chosen from me." her voice surrounded you as she spoke, shaking you to your core "Why?"