The Witching Hour

Chapter 14 - Gale

I take a seat across from her with a sense of purpose, and soon enough, the innkeeper presents my breakfast: porridge and tea.

Porridge and tea, how quaint.

I can't help but sigh as I examine the rather uninspiring meal. The porridge is bland, overcooked, and devoid of any inviting aroma. Were my spices within reach, I'd certainly enhance it with a touch of cinnamon or nutmeg. The tea, regrettably, is unsweetened, leaving a rather unremarkable, leafy taste.

As I partake in the rather uninspiring breakfast, my thoughts meander back to our nights around the campfire. I recall the times I would prepare meals that transformed the simplest of ingredients into culinary delights, filling the air with tantalizing aromas. I almost find myself smiling at the memory of Astarion and his unique dietary preferences. His penchant for blood, decidedly unpalatable to the rest of us, often led to weary sighs and nocturnal grumblings. It was an odd sort of comfort, a shared experience in our otherwise unpredictable lives.

I look up to see Remeyra, quietly sipping her water, her gaze distant and contemplative. For a fleeting moment, I ponder the thoughts or concerns that might be occupying her mind.

'Soo,' I drawl, searching for a conversational thread to alleviate the awkward silence. 'Your mother was a cleric?' The question seems to catch her off guard, causing her to splutter on her water.

'What?' She blinks at me, her confusion palpable. 'Oh, yes. What about it?' she finally responds, her tone clipped.

'Did she teach you any healing spells?' I inquire, striving for a casual demeanor as I sip my tea.

The effort of this small talk is almost painful. I'm usually adept at conversation; my propensity towards verbosity is often remarked upon, sometimes to the point of annoyance. Yet, with her, I find myself at a loss, my usual eloquence eluding me.

'You could say that,' she replies, her words carrying an air of ambiguity that unsettles me. I sense a certain evasion in her response, but I decide to let it pass for now and shift the topic.

'What are your plans for the day?' I ask, endeavoring to sound nonchalant.

She pauses, her gaze locking with mine momentarily before drifting away to a distant point. The morning light dances on the golden flecks in her hazel eyes, lending them a mesmerizing shimmer. She draws a deep breath, as though contemplating how best to articulate her thoughts.

'I'm heading to Baldur's Gate,' she finally states, her voice even, though it carries a subtle note of determination. Her fingers absently trace the rim of her glass, a small gesture that belies her otherwise composed exterior.

'Ah, Baldur's Gate!' I exclaim, leaning back in my chair, allowing a smile to curve my lips. The very mention of the city brings to mind its vibrant markets, formidable walls, and the distant tang of salt carried on the breeze from the sea.

'A city of both intrigue and opportunity,' I continue, striving for a casual tone as I stir my tea thoughtfully. 'I had contemplated making the journey myself. If you would permit me, I could accompany you.'

Her gaze shifts to meet mine, scrutinizing my expression with a discerning eye, as though seeking hidden intentions behind my offer. A faint, almost imperceptible twitch at the corners of her mouth suggests a fleeting amusement or curiosity before she responds.

'Whatever,' she responds with a dismissive shrug. The casual indifference in her tone causes a twinge of disappointment in my chest, though I'm relieved that she's permitting me to accompany her.

As thoughts of Baldur's Gate creep into my mind, a wave of unease washes over me. The city, a place I haven't visited since our confrontation with the Elder Brain and Tav's departure with Astarion, holds a reservoir of haunting memories. I finish my tea with a sense of anxiety tightening around me, the familiar discomfort settling in my chest.

'So, Baldur's Gate,' I begin, attempting to infuse a touch more enthusiasm into my voice. 'Have you had the pleasure of visiting it before?'

She glances at me, her expression inscrutable. 'No, it's my first time.'

I nod thoughtfully, seeking a new thread for our conversation. 'It's an extraordinary city, brimming with surprises. There's always something new to uncover.'

She meets my gaze, her voice taking on a more serious tone as she adds, 'I actually have a specific destination in mind... a place I wish to visit.' Her gaze drifts, her thoughts seemingly wandering elsewhere.

'Oh?' I inquire, my curiosity piqued.

'There's a renowned library called Sorcerous Sundries. Have you heard of it?' she asks, her voice carrying an undertone of curiosity mingled with an elusive deeper sentiment.

A surge of excitement courses through me at the mention of my favored library. I've heard whispers of a new mage in charge, reputed to be a formidable arcane practitioner, though we've yet to meet.

'Ah, yes, and the new mage is indeed making quite a name for himself,' I respond with genuine interest.

Her hazel eyes widen with what appears to be curiosity, tinged with an emotion I hope is intrigue. 'You know him?' she inquires.

'No, not personally. I've only heard of him,' I chuckle, appreciating her sudden enthusiasm. 'Are you a connoisseur of his work?'

She averts her gaze, struggling to suppress a smirk. 'In a manner of speaking...'

Her enigmatic response only deepens my intrigue, but before I can probe further, the innkeeper approaches to clear our plates, interrupting our conversation.