Chapter 2
Evening had come, and darkness settled over Zadash. The interior of Beau and Yasha’s home was warmly lit by arcane light, filling their lanterns. It imitated flame, flickering and bringing atmosphere to the space. They had candles lit as well, in white, gray, bronze and black.
Caleb was lying on a pile of pelts and covers on the floor. Yasha was on the sofa, her bone harp on the table in front of her. Beau had come back from work, shoveling down a meal while off-loading her frustrations and gained information. Her ramble was cut off by having to tell Yasha “ughh, I missed you babe” several times, mirrored by the same sentiment. With Caleb she entered double analyser mode, as they tried to piece together where the suspect of hers was hiding. She was now sprawled out on the sofa, nestled with her head in her girlfriend’s lap. The aasimar was casually strumming out beautiful tunes with one hand and stroking her girlfriend’s hair with the other. After having worked overtime and given it her all, the monk was dozing off.
Caleb was tuned into the angelic notes from the harp. He noticed how much Yasha had improved her playing over the months. The melody and beats were mostly consistent and she could play full, if simple, songs now. He allowed himself to enjoy this moment, breathing evenly. Between worrying about the Cerberus Assembly and trying to bring himself together enough to teach while navigating mental instability, he had needed this break. And for once, here, his mind had stayed quiet enough. Eventually, he sat up. Copper locks were framing his head, and draping over his shoulders, his hair let out.
“How are you?” came Yasha’s low voice to him. He looked to her.
“Better.”
She smiled at him, not without the expression of sadness that came with being who they were. Then let out a big yawn, stretching.
“Well, I’m going to sleep. You should too.” she told him.
The wizard stood up, told her goodnight. She was already tucked in next to her girlfriend as the big spoon.
Caleb walked into the kitchen and looked out the window. Outside lanterns lit up the empty, dark streets. He didn’t quite feel tired. Thought of Essek. Pictured him, floating. Dark indigo skin. Strikingly intelligent gaze, softened by time around the Nein, and being changed by them. Fondness came over him. He crossed his arms. Wondered where he was now, and if he was okay. It had been six days since he last messaged the drow. Drawing the somatic component and whispering the incantation he cast Message once again. Speaking in a hushed tone but clear enough to be understood, he said-
“Hallo, Essek. Just wondering how you’re holding up. I’m doing good. Yasha showed me their garden. It’s beautiful. Are you busy, friend?’’
- -
“Caleb. Ah, it’s good to hear from you. I’m doing alright, laying low. I’d like to see it someday, the garden. Miss you’’
The drow’s voice was slightly worn. Caleb guessed it could be from how late it was, or that he was, like himself, worn down by his own past. He had the spell slots to send several messages, and did so, getting more in touch with how Essek was doing. The drow was in one of Wildemount’s small towns. Hiding in a low-class tavern, immersed in arcane studies. Not yet found out, but wary. He said he was considering a return visit soon. It had been about four weeks since they were together. Caleb had a small secondary motive to the amount of sending spells that night. He had wanted to hear Essek’s voice again. It soothed him. He bade his friend goodnight. Headed to the guest room to bed down, drowsy and in love.