Holy Opposites 32

	Solen straightened up from his stoop.  “Well, Axio, this isn’t something to fear,” he said tiredly, massaging the small of his back.  “This is the progression of your being.”

	Axio very clearly wanted to demand what that meant, but Solen continued.  “My grandson, you are becoming what your soul has been all along,” he wheezed, and I swear I saw pride in his weary old eyes.  “You are becoming angelic.”

	Axio swallowed. His hands were shaking.  I rested a hand on his bare shoulder, and he leaned into it.  It was a disconcertingly child-like gesture from the enormous warrior.  “I’m becoming an angel?” he asked, in a very small voice.

	“Well… no, not exactly,” Solen said carefully.  “But you are coming into alignment with Ryaire’s vision for her faithful.  Your eyes are now those of a Solar, specifically an angel attuned with the element of wind.”  He gestured at Axio’s eyes.  “No, Axio, you are starting to resemble my father.  He became an angelic Exarch after his death, so he could follow Ryaire into eternity as her beloved and lieutenant.”

	“But you were born before he ascended, when he was just a mortal,” Axio pointed out, trying to calm himself with his own reason.

	“Yes, but you are her Chosen,” Solen reminded him.  “Ryaire loves those few dozen angels whom have aligned themselves with her, and you are coming to resemble them.  Your bloodline is simply hastening their manifestation.”

	Axio wilted.  “So this will keep happening?  I’m going to keep mutating?”

	“I would prefer that we both think of it as ascending, not mutating,” Solen said.  “Am I a mutant?  I show the light of the Astral Sea, and none call me mutant.”  It was true.  His faint glow of holy light was throwing shadows on the walls behind us.

	Axio flushed in embarrassment.  “I’m so sorry, grandfather,” he said miserably.  “That was very rude of me.”

	Solen shook his head.  “You are afraid, think nothing of it.  To answer your question, however, yes, you will continue to ascend.  Eventually, you may not be so terribly different from an actual angel in your appearance.  Your eyes are but the first of your changes.  What will the others be?  I have no idea.  When?  I do not know.  They are coming.  I would wager, though,” he added, “that you shall ascend more quickly when you use your divine power.”

	I could see that Axio wanted to say a whole lot more, but instead he stood.  “I see,” he said quietly.  “Thank you, grandfather.  Wish us luck in Undermountain.”

	“Goodbye, Axio,” Solen said, with an air of sadness tinging his voice.  “I know Ryaire will keep you safe.”

	“Or just keep us,” Axio said in the same voice.  He hugged his ancient grandfather and stepped back.  The distress was gone from his demeanor, replaced with the ever-inviolable rock of his faith, but this new distraction hid his happy self.  “Goodbye.”


	I walked in his wake, silent and anxious.  Axio’s distress had consumed the morning, and I was just glad he had had a chance to say goodbye to his parents and sister before they had bedded down the previous night.  In a horrible, selfish way, I was glad it had given me something else about which to talk.  I hadn’t wanted to discuss my own nightmare.

	I had been wrapped up in a lucid vision of torture again, but this time it wasn’t I in control.  I had been pinned to a bed of gritty sand and been raped, over and over and over, by a team of shadow-faced incubi, who had delighted in my agony and ecstasy.  Scalding water and drops of wine and blood had dripped down over my body as from hidden cups above as I was violated and pleaded for more.

	I had awoken shaking, shivering, nearly retching from the force of it all.  I had taken to casting protection from evil in my glyph tattoo every night and letting it recharge overnight.  I had forgotten to do so before bed, just once, and Asmodeus had once more delighted in showing me exactly what I wanted.

	The world swam as I slowed my step, fighting off my vision of the previous night.  I clutched my glaive so hard my knuckles cracked.  Solen’s kind words and Ryaire’s reassurance had made it far easier to bear such reminders of my evil nature, but that didn’t make waking up the next morning any easier.  At least I hadn’t wrecked my sheets this time, or awoken the other women with my moans.

	“Cavria?” Axio asked.  He had turned to face me.  I looked up, sweating and biting my lip.  “Cavria, are you all right?”

	I stared.  He was worried for me.  His ordeal was forgotten.  He had probably not noticed he was looking at me with gemstones instead of eyes.

	I managed a tiny smile.  “Just thinking about my nightmares,” I confessed.  “I will be fine.”


	The two drow warriors were sitting on the bench outside the tiny landing in the Sea Caves when the Ryairans arrived.  They both looked relaxed and confident, which made them the opposite of the Paladins.  “Good morning,” Axio said as he approached.  “Sleep well?”

	“I did,” Luanea said, rising gracefully to sweep him into a hug.  “Hello… Axio?  What happened to you since yesterday?” she asked, noticing his eyes.  Doshellas perked up and took notice of his acquaintance’s face.

	“It’s a long story,” Axio muttered.  “I’ll explain on the ship.”  He gently disentangled from his friend’s arms.  “Okay.  Do we have everything?”

	Doshellas held up his overstuffed pack.  Luanea nodded, still clearly concerned.  “We’re as ready as we will be,” she said.

	Axio patted the pocket of his coat where the compass was located.  “We’re set, too.  Let’s move out.”


	Inside, Axio stared down the Keeper with whom he was haggling.  “Sir, I do not understand the nature of your complaint,” he said politely.

	“The lock’s open to business, but you’re not getting through with that little a payment, and that’s that,” the Keeper mage said bluntly.  The slight human man glared up at the Paladin with visible irritation and no small amount of discomfort.

	“Your rates are listed.  We have met them.  Explain,” Axio returned.

	“The Underdark fulla’ demons!  You want us to go down there now of all times, you’re gonna pay extra!” the mage demanded.

	Axio’s armored fist clenched.  “Really.  And I suppose updating your posted rates would be too difficult?”

	The mage glared.  “We dunno when it’s gonna end!”

	Luanea stepped forward.  “Sir, we’re not putting you at risk,” she said smoothly.

	Cavria and Doshellas wandered out into the port while their leaders haggled.  “We’ll let them play ‘Good Cleric, Bad Cleric,’” Cavria said drily.  She looked Doshellas over.  He was wearing ringlet armor under his dark green and black tunic and black pantaloons.  His holy symbol of Eilistraee was pinned to his collar, which intrigued her.  Generally, rangers didn’t wear their faith openly.  “Nice collar badge,” she said.

	“Thanks,” he mumbled.  He was as animated as any other elf, just very quiet.  “Take it off when I’m hunting, but I like it.”  He squeezed his spindly fingers around it.  “Enchanted for protection from evil.  Comes in handy.”

	Axio and Luanea joined them.  “All right, we got him down to just ten percent increase,” Axio grumbled, “but we have to leave at once.”

	“Fine.”  Cavria grabbed her bag and walked down the short wharf.  “Let’s go, then.”

	The ships of the Skull Lock were very compact, which made sense.  They were not sailing vessels by any means; they were canal boats, with no masts and long oars.  The four of them trooped into the nearest vessel and set their bags down in the deck.

	Axio leaned back against the railing and rubbed his eyes.  He flinched in discomfort as his metal gloves pressed against the cold stones he now had instead of flesh, and groaned internally.  He supposed, in the grand scheme of things, becoming more angelic wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it was sure going to take a lot of adjustment.


	The grinding locks and shifting water of the descent into the Port eventually halted.  Cavria stared in wonder as the final gate opened up to a massive cavern.  “It’s beautiful,” she said faintly.

	It did have a sort of grandeur, in its own way.  The spurs of rock that stuck up from the water followed no pattern, but they all shone with luminescent fungus.  The water itself was so dark; it may have been the blackness of space.  Lights filled the walls of the cavern, thousands of lights, from torches to lanterns, glowing fungi to magic orbs, all shedding multihued light over the scattered settlement below.  Buildings stuck out from the rocks, mostly clustered around the water’s edge.  Whole blocks of crude structures erupted from the bare rock floor, and back from the edge of the water, there were roads and buildings in a grid-like pattern.

	“Welcome to Skullport,” Luanea said to her.  “Hope you’re not here long.”

	“Way to set the mood,” Cavria said.

	“We shouldn’t linger.  We all have work to do here.”  Luanea’s white hair bobbed in the bun she had made when she shrugged.  “Sorry if you want to sightsee, but we’re on a schedule.”

	“Oh, I know.”  Cavria turned back to the approaching wharf.  “I’m just sorry we can’t explore a bit.”


	The Port was bustling with people, and many were clearly new.  The number of drow and even duergar refugees in the town was disquieting to the four travelers, and an ugly reminder of the ongoing demonic violence in the Underdark.  Luanea led the group through the town with haste, coming eventually to the outer walls of the city.  The drow priestess looked back at their path to make sure they hadn’t been followed, and then directed the quartet into the tunnels outside the Skullport boundaries.

	Cavria and Axio were both looking around in silent wonder.  The whole city was an architectural wonder.  Axio dimly remembered reading about how the Netherese mages and Halaster Blackcloak’s apprentice had fought over the control of the great magic mantle that kept the city intact, many decades before.  He was glad to see the end of the city, though.  It was simply an ominous place, and he didn’t generally like staying in a place that required magic to exist.

	Luanea’s unfailing vision led them through the outer tunnels.  They walked for what felt like hours, and more than one belly was grumbling before long.