#he was aching and having troubles casting. rumor mill says gale played with dangerous magic

[recitedemise]

@sunderdust asked: (ward): sender is a ward at the receiver's house/home. / Royal, Fantasy Romance, and Spice: still accepting.

In ways he's to hesitant to admit, Solomon's company has become a balm. At the same time, however, as though by tragedy's permission, the man affords his heart with a terrible aching. He'd come on as a helper, an assistant in his home by Morena's suggestion. Yet, as time so faded, the gold heat of summer surrendering to fall, he'd grown in his importance toward something more considerable. All at once, he's a staver, a chaser of his home's grave dark.

Gale, newly blighted, moves mountains for a pittance of a spell. He's been soundly spurned, tattered in his heart and brined in grief, and what company has such a man so wanting in station? Better yet, what soul beyond these walls would seek him out? There's little but the quiet, little in his halls but some festering terror. However, with Solomon here, he'd granted the illusion of normalcy... That is until his chest aches have grown to split skin and gums. Damn. Gale, discreetly bleeding, knows it's time.

"It's been a couple of months now, hasn't it? I've hardly noticed, to be honest, but I suppose it's best to take that as a testament to your invigorating company." Gale spoons his dinner, both of them sat with plated fish. Solomon sits there, the afternoon light trickling gold his dark, dark hair. House Dekarios, very decadent, colors him a born noble. "There are few things as rewarding as bartering words with a clever mind. Unfortunately," here it comes, "it's time we parted. Your help with my condition has been invaluable, of course, but I've come to realize your brilliance is better placed elsewhere. Besides, being a wetnurse is too much a turn for a thrilling adventurer. As it were, there's only so many surprises my tower can provide."

Gale smiles amiably, Tara watching the two all too sharply. Beneath his sleeve, his bandaged arm cracks like a fissure. He averts Solomon's gaze to pick at his trout. Lonely, will be, doomed, doomed, doomed—! "Should I leave my payment to you this month by your bedside? Feel free to finish dinner with me. I won't deny you."