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Into the Feywild (@carebarian)
Aug. 8th, 2024 11:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tiveraghTieve's persuasion skills have come through in the clutch more than once on their wild journey, but she will never be more grateful for their success than the moment Karlach agrees to follow her. Not to Avernus--while Tieve herself might think the price of living in the Hells is worth it for the chance to explore and find a way out later, she can't blame Karlach for refusing. She can see the marks of loneliness in her more clearly than anyone. They've both done decade-long sentences in uncertain solitude. Tieve was just luckier in that hers was not in a war zone.
As soon as the yes leaves Karlach's lips, as soon as they've called out a last frantic farewell-for-now to their friends, Tieve pulls open the door. They're on the docks, and that's close enough to a crossroads. They leave the world without taking a step.
And instead of the rising pink dawn, they're surrounded by curtains of velvet purple twilight. It's usually twilight here. Sometimes the sun rises, or the moon, but the fey prefer not to have the eyes of other gods upon them. Now, the sky above is a pristine, unbroken shade of violet, soft on the eyes but almost unsettling in its perfection. The ground is sand under their feet, white as milk, and there's clear water to the west. To the east, trees rise up, impossibly tall, every imaginable shade of green in the gloaming.
Tieve's hands come up to grip Karlach's forearms almost at once, heedless of the risk. She thinks, she hopes, the fires are already dying down. "How do you feel? Breathe slow, breathe deep. I'm here."
As soon as the yes leaves Karlach's lips, as soon as they've called out a last frantic farewell-for-now to their friends, Tieve pulls open the door. They're on the docks, and that's close enough to a crossroads. They leave the world without taking a step.
And instead of the rising pink dawn, they're surrounded by curtains of velvet purple twilight. It's usually twilight here. Sometimes the sun rises, or the moon, but the fey prefer not to have the eyes of other gods upon them. Now, the sky above is a pristine, unbroken shade of violet, soft on the eyes but almost unsettling in its perfection. The ground is sand under their feet, white as milk, and there's clear water to the west. To the east, trees rise up, impossibly tall, every imaginable shade of green in the gloaming.
Tieve's hands come up to grip Karlach's forearms almost at once, heedless of the risk. She thinks, she hopes, the fires are already dying down. "How do you feel? Breathe slow, breathe deep. I'm here."
