BOOM!
The wall of rock exploded, emitting a deafening soundwave that echoed across the Underdark for miles.
A dense wall of pressurized air followed immediately after causing the rock wall to flatten and scattering the already superheated dust and debris to shoot in all directions.
Deep red and amber flames engulfed the distant rock face, transforming the solid rock into a molten slag that was expelled from the cavern walls in all directions.
Lenore's eyes lit up with pure scientific intensity, her grip on William's neck tightening to the point that he was having a moderately difficult time trying to breathe.
"Lenore... Not that I don't enjoy this, but I still need to breathe!" Hearing Williams' words, Lenore realized that she was practically constricting him like a snake and pulled back, nearly forgetting to hold on to William in the process.
She suddenly pulled back, temporarily forgetting that she was in the air and nearly falling from his embrace but William wrapped his tail around her at the exact moment, pulling her back up until their eyes were level.
"I'm REALLY glad I have a tail... It's definitely handy." He sighs in relief before planting a soft, tender kiss full of affection upon her lips.
After a moment, they finally parted their lips. Lenore gasped as if her breath had caught in her throat, her face immediately turning a deep shade of crimson, almost purple. To try and hide the blush, she leaned her face into Williams' chest, burying her face there.
William began to descend back towards the top of the Arcane Tower slowly, his wings catching the air with efficiency that bordered on supernatural.
Landing softly on the magically empowered stones, Lenore's most precious automaton, Bernard, seemed to be waiting for them with a silver platter that held two cups of fragrant tea on its reflective surface.
William's boots touched stone with a soft scrape.
The heat of the distant blast still rolled faintly through the cavern air, a warm exhale from wounded rock far below.
Bernard stood at attention, silver platter gleaming, two porcelain cups releasing thin spirals of steam that carried notes of citrus and something floral, sharp enough to cut through the lingering scent of scorched mineral.
William accepted a cup first. "Perfect timing, Bernard."
Lenore took the second, fingers steady now, though her eyes still shimmered with leftover firelight. "Exquisite as always."
Bernard inclined his head with mechanical dignity, lenses glinting once in acknowledgment.
Lenore lifted her free hand.
Magic answered immediately.
It crackled between her fingers in fine, branching filaments of pale blue light, snapping softly in the air like contained lightning.
With a casual twist of her wrist, two nearby chairs shuddered, lifted, and glided across the tower's platform.
A third pulse followed, and an opulent table carved with arcane filigree rose to join them, its polished surface reflecting the cavern's distant ember-glow.
The furniture drifted into place as though guided by invisible hands and settled between them with a velvet-soft thud.
William felt the magic stur within him and could not help but think out loud, "I need to learn to do that, it could be useful for many things!"
They sat as steam curled upward between them.
The cavern below rumbled faintly as loosened stone found its final resting place.
Here, atop the Arcane Tower, the world felt suspended between catastrophe and comfort.
William took a slow sip.
The tea was warm without scalding, fragrant without overwhelming.
It washed away the taste of ash at the back of his throat.
His wings relaxed slightly, membranes folding in with a faint whisper.
Lenore closed her eyes as she drank, shoulders lowering for the first time since the blast.
The fire in her expression softened into something thoughtful.
A faint metallic rhythm echoed behind them.
Bernard had departed silently at some point, but now he returned, steps precise and measured.
Upon the platter he carried sat a small confection dusted in powdered sugar, layered delicately with honeyed sponge cake and thin ribbons of candied citrus peel.
He presented it between them with ceremonial care.
Lenore's eyes brightened again, though this time with far gentler enthusiasm. "You anticipated tea accompaniments."
Bernard gave a single, crisp nod.
William leaned back in his chair, tail curling loosely around one leg. "You know," he said, reaching for a slice of cake, "for a day that began with molten rock avalanches, this feels remarkably civilized."
Lenore took a piece as well, examining its structure before taking a bite.
The sweetness paired beautifully with the tea's bite, the citrus cutting through the richness.
Below them, the Underdark smoldered.
Above it, on a tower of carved stone and controlled ambition, they shared cake and quiet conversation while an automaton stood ready for the next request.
For the moment, the world was balanced.
But the balance was disrupted by the sound of a door being kicked down, and both William and Lenore looked over in shock to see Karlach and Minthara each wielding their weapons and clearly ready for combat.
"What's going on? What was that explosion?WHAT DO I NEED TO KILL?" Karlach said, while approaching William and grabbing his shoulders, but seeing the relaxed expression on his face she stopped, her eyes trailing downward to the table where tea and cakes were letting off an irresistible aroma that wafted into Karlach's nostrils, the scent cutting through her anxiety like a hot knife through butter.
"Is that cake?" she asked, not even waiting a moment before grabbing a slice and practically biting the fork as she ate it.
NOM...
NOM...
"This is so good, what the hell even is this? Is that honey? How did you get honey down here?" Karlach continued to eat even as she spoke, it wasn't until Minthara appeared behind her and gave her a swift chop to the back of the head.
"Don't eat with your mouth filled you fool!" Minthara growled at Karlach before her gaze too fell on the delicate cakes, her eyes moved towards William as if seeking permission to indulge.
William blinked once in confusion before nodding at Minthara, who immediately began pushing against Karlach in order to snag a slice of the delicious treat. However, unlike Karlach, she ate in a reserved and elegant manner, sipping a small cup of tea in between bites.
Karlach was still chewing with heroic enthusiasm when Lenore delicately set her cup down.
"Bernard," she said, voice smooth once more, the earlier inferno now reduced to a thoughtful glow behind her eyes, "if you would be so kind. A broader assortment, with savory, sweet, layered textures, and something appropriate to… company."
Bernard's lenses brightened a fraction.
He inclined his head.
Then he turned and departed with precise, resonant steps, vanishing through the doorway Karlach had nearly removed from its hinges.
Karlach swallowed. "You have more?"
Lenore folded her hands atop the opulent table she had summoned moments ago. "One should never limit options after reshaping geological formations."
William leaned back in his chair, tail curling lazily around one leg. "That's a sentence I'm going to pretend makes sense."
Minthara, meanwhile, was examining the remaining cake crumbs with clinical focus. "If this is merely the introductory course, I am… intrigued."
The metallic rhythm returned sooner than expected.
Bernard re-entered with a procession that bordered on ceremonial spectacle.
Behind him floated additional trays borne aloft by subtle arcane force.
Tiered stands arranged themselves midair before settling with dignified precision.
Savory pastries glazed with herbs and sharp cheeses.
Thin slices of smoked cavern eel laid across crispbread.
Honeyed nuts lacquered to a jewel-like sheen.
Dark chocolate confections dusted in silver sugar that caught the tower's light.
And finally, a bottle.
Slender. Long-necked. Deep green glass veined with faint gold filigree.
The label appeared hand-scripted in looping, archaic calligraphy that seemed determined to defy comprehension.
William leaned forward and squinted.
"…Is that a language or a magical accident?"
Minthara's eyes sharpened instantly.
Lenore's lips curved.
Both women leaned closer at the same time, expressions shifting into matching focus.
Minthara traced the air just above the label without touching it. "Pre-Sundering Baldurian script."
Lenore nodded once. "Late High Common variant. Ornamental dialect. The vintner was either exceptionally proud… or insufferable."
Karlach blinked. "It says wine, right?"
Minthara's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. "It says," she read aloud with elegant precision, "'Vintner's Reserve of Balduran Crest, Third Ember Harvest, Cask Forty-Seven, blessed by a cleric of Mystra and imbued with a touch of the weave."
William stared.
"…That is aggressively named."
Lenore accepted the bottle from Bernard with reverent care. "It is a Balduran vintage. Imported before trade routes shifted. Nearly impossible to find now."
Karlach leaned across the table. "Does it taste like it has that many words in it?"
Minthara's crimson gaze flicked toward her. "If it does not, I shall consider myself personally offended."
Bernard produced crystal goblets with a soft chime as they met the table.
The cork eased free with a refined sigh, releasing a bouquet of dark fruit, aged oak, and something faintly spiced, like distant summer heat captured in liquid form.
Lenore poured.
The wine shimmered as it filled each glass, catching the cavern's dim light in garnet waves.
William lifted his carefully. "To not collapsing the Underdark today."
Karlach raised hers enthusiastically. "To explosions you meant to cause!"
Minthara inclined her glass slightly. "To power properly applied."
Lenore's gaze flicked toward William, something warmer than fire residing there now. "To balance."
Crystal met crystal.
Below them, the Underdark still smoldered.
Above, beneath vaulted stone and the watchful stillness of the Arcane Tower, laughter and the faint clink of fine glass rose to meet the darkness, civil and luminous against it.
Hours later, the tower had quieted.
Wine glasses stood empty.
Crumbs had vanished beneath Bernard's meticulous jurisdiction.
Minthara had retired with composed dignity.
Lenore had drifted back toward her workshop, no doubt already dissecting the physics of redirected infernal cyclones.
Karlach stretched like a contented predator after a feast. "I'm claiming you," she declared, hooking a thumb toward the hallway.
"Explosions, cake, wine. That's at least three categories of exhausting."
William did not argue.
Her room was warmer than the rest of the tower.
Not stifling. Just… alive.
A banked heat that felt less like fire and more like a hearth refusing to die down.
She collapsed onto the bed without ceremony and pulled him down beside her with an arm that had earlier been prepared to cleave through imaginary threats.
Within minutes, her breathing evened out.
Karlach slept like someone who trusted the walls.
William lay still for a time, watching the slow rise and fall of her shoulders, listening to the faint hum that seemed to exist in her even at rest, as if embers dreamed behind her ribs.
Then he closed his eyes.
And stepped inward.
His inner world unfolded beneath him as it always did.
A horizon split between impossible contradictions.
Verdant grasslands rippled in one direction, blades bending under a wind that carried the scent of rain and distant forests.
In the other direction, volcanic soil stretched dark and fertile, cracked with faint lines of ember-light, as though the earth remembered being molten and had not entirely forgiven itself.
Above, the sky burned in muted twilight, streaked with copper and deep indigo.
He stood at the center.
Opposite him, another William stood as well.
Same posture.
Same wings.
Same tail curling once in anticipation.
No malice lived in the copy's expression.
Only focus.
Steel sang.
The blades met in a bright arc of motion, sparks snapping free and vanishing before they touched ground.
Grass flattened in precise circles where their feet shifted.
Ash puffed upward from volcanic soil as boots carved through it.
The copy moved as he would move.
Anticipated as he would anticipate.
Which meant growth required deviation.
William pivoted early, breaking the mirrored rhythm.
His blade slipped past the clone's guard, angled for the shoulder.
The copy twisted, barely deflecting.
Good.
He pressed harder.
Wings flared for balance.
Tail snapped low in a feint.
Steel rang again, louder this time.
The grassland wind picked up, bending toward them as if drawn by centrifugal will.
Faint ember-lines beneath the dark soil glowed brighter with each strike.
He adjusted.
Shorter strokes.
Less flourish.
More efficiency.
The clone stepped back.
There.
A misalignment.
William surged forward, blade carving a decisive arc meant to end the exchange...
"WILLIAAAAM!"
The world fractured.
He blinked.
Down below the hovering clash of steel and suspended intent, Karlach stood knee-deep in the grass.
She was waving both arms wildly, turning in slow circles as she took in the impossible landscape.
"What in the Hells is this place?!" she shouted, voice carrying effortlessly through sky and soil alike.
Her gaze snapped upward.
She spotted him.
"YOU LIVE HERE TOO?!"
William's concentration wavered for half a heartbeat.
The clone did not hesitate.
Steel struck.
He felt the impact in his chest and was driven backward, wings flaring instinctively as he hit the boundary between grassland and volcanic earth.
The ground cracked beneath him, ember-lines flaring once in startled protest.
When he looked up, the copy stood over him.
Apologetic.
Truly apologetic.
It offered a small, almost sheepish shrug.
Then it shimmered like heat above a forge and dissolved into motes of fading light.
Silence fell across the internal horizon.
Karlach tromped forward, boots leaving faint scorched impressions in the volcanic soil as if the terrain had decided it liked her.
She peered down at him, hands on hips.
"So," she said brightly, glancing from the rolling green fields to the smoldering black earth, then back to him. "You've got a garden on one side and an apocalypse on the other."
Her grin widened.
"Feels about right."