Ascent and Descent

Ascent and Descent


	The faint glow of the rising sun had brightened the high rafters of Cavria’s room by the time she opened her eyes.  She was on her feet at once, rested from her meditations.  As a fiend, sleep was an affectation at most.

	Cavria quickly bathed and pulled on her training uniform.  She had long since outclassed every other fighter at the small militant church, but there were plenty of dummies of wood, stone, and straw for her to pummel.  This early, there was plenty of room for glaive practice, too.

	Outside, Cavria settled into a simple training exercise, stretching and moving in rote patterns she had committed to memory so long ago that they were more habit than practice.  There were a few other people in the building, preparing for their own training, but at that moment the only person with whom she was sharing the practice room was Triera.

	She wasn’t the soft, remorseful rookie she had been so recently.  Her brother’s apotheosis had allowed him to aid her more directly than he had with a normal body, thanks to his busy schedule.  Axio was in her dreaming mind, now, as he was with Cavria, and probably his parents, too, despite their estrangement.

	When she had finished her warmup, Cavria moved to run on the well-trod sand track at the outside of the exercise area, feeling the familiar twinges of pain in her back and shoulders.  Her tail and wing removals had been masterfully done, but her muscles still tugged on the severed ligaments sometimes.

	Twenty minutes of running later, Triera joined her in silent running.  A few of the junior recruits were fighting in the middle now, under the watchful eye of one of the little church’s few monks.

	“How far do you want to go today, Triera?” Cavria asked conversationally as they matched pace.

	“As far as I can,” Triera said.

	The two women ran side by side until Triera’s face was caked in sweat and her chest heaved for breath.  Cavria shook her head in silence.  Triera was determined, every single day, to surpass her brother’s marks.  It had been so sudden.  As a small child, she hadn’t cared one whit about the physical training her parents had bound her to, and as a teenager, she had resented deeply their total lack of concern for her refusal to become a Paladin like her brother.  After their arguing had driven her parents off to ‘retirement,’ her grandfather Solen, the head of their church, had passed away, and after Axiopistos’ ascension to divinity, Triera had thrown herself into the work with a ferocity that had shocked her friends and family.

	It wasn’t a good thing, but she was now in perfect health and her brother had blessed her with generous powers, so it was what they were left with.

	After their exercise, Cavria and Triera went off to the bathing room and quickly rinsed off.  After they were cleaned, dried, and dressed, they disappeared into the kitchen to begin breakfast.


	The sun filled the room with slanting beams of bright light through the barred windows of the modest kitchen of the rectory as the monks and Paladins worked.  Clouds of flour dust filled the air as the monks kneaded the bread and stoked the ovens.  The smell of frying fish and rising bread wafted out to the training field, distracting the others in their efforts to better serve Axiopistos’ will.


	Cavria munched idly on her breakfast across from Triera at the high table of the dining room of the monastery.  The entire building had been crafted specifically for the Church of Innocence using the immense funds seized by the adventurers who now essentially ran the entire congregation, after years of covert actions against the dark things that dwelled on the corpses of gods in the Astral Sea.  They had found Githyanki caches and astral pirate dens, lost pearlescent matter that had let them craft primordial wonders, and the dead bodies of a dozen deities.

	Cavria slowed her eating as memories flashed back to her.  Breaking the bow of the Vengeful and smiting its dragon guard low, and smashing the remains of the dead god Iskra of Oerth, and mutating her tail, then having it removed…

	Triera caught Cavria’s eye.  “You alright?” she asked.

	Cavria swallowed her food.  “Yes.  I’m just remembering.”

	Triera nodded.  “Yeah.”  She looked up at the statue of her brother as a child, which dominated the high table, and the mural of Ryaire before which it stood.  Killing Ryaire and her husband and replacing them had been the hardest thing Axio had ever done, but he had done it, in the way all but a few of the gods had slain what had come before and taken their places.  He was more powerful than Ryaire had ever been, but that meant he could rarely see them; his divine power was now so great that he couldn’t manifest a physical form in the Prime.

	Triera set down her bread.  “Did Axio talk to you last night?”

	Cavria shook her head.  “Nope.  All was quiet.  You?”

	“Yes.”  Triera took her cup of tea in both hands and stared into its fragrant depths.  “Just being a sweetheart, you know.”  She took a slow sip and closed her eyes.  “He’s still such a goof.”

	Cavria half-smiled.  It didn’t reveal her broken fangs.  She had had them carefully and painfully filed down to simply look like normal canines.  “He is, yes.”  She lifted her own drink.  Her fingertips were numb to the heat of the cup.  She had had her claws cauterized off.

	When she looked up, she saw Triera looking at her many amputation scars.  “Can I ask you something?” Triera asked softly.

	“Sure.  We’re sisters,” Cavria assured her.

	Triera set her drink down.  “Does Lauren’s decision ever… confuse you?” she asked quietly.

	Cavria sighed.  Axio’s wife had been a dear friend to her.  Her decision to raise hers and Axio’s children outside the church had been immediate, after her husband’s death and ascension.  Other members of the church had questioned it, quite rudely.  Triera had not.  “No.  After what your parents put you and Axio through, I think they just wanted the the kids to have choice.”

	“I meant leaving the clergy,” Triera said.  “Lauren was partway through her training, and she just… left.”

	Cavria stirred her tea idly.  “I think… I think she hadn’t really thought through what outliving Axio would mean for her,” she said uncomfortably.  She didn’t like talking about people behind their backs.  “I think… Axio thinks of her as his wife before being his worshipper.  You know?  She can’t be his equal and his subject.”  Cavria finished her tea.  “But that’s enough.  I should get to work.  You should ask Lauren if you have more questions.”

	Triera nodded.  “Yeah.  You’re right.”


	Cavria stood at razor-sharp attention at the back of the Holyhands Temple in the heart of the great city of Waterdeep, beside the monk of her order who had duties here today.  It was Brother Corrin, she noted.  This was only his second day as head of their delegation.

	The Holyhands House was relatively new, by the centuries of time that had passed since the City of Splendors had first risen from the deepwater harbor of the Sword Coast.  The temple had only gone up twenty years ago, and had avoided all damage from the rampages of dragons and worse since then.  Every major congregation in the city had a presence there, including The Church of Innocence, and theirs was one of the smallest.

	A constant stream of people passed before their spot in the huge building.  Pilgrims from distant lands, scholars seeking knowledge, the afflicted and ill seeking healing, the poor seeking alms, and ordinary Waterdhavians having a walk in the saftest building on the continent; all were welcome, and all came in droves.

	Cavria liked it.  After years of war in the planes, in the Underdark, in the field, being surrounded by the common folk of the city and the good shepherds of the city made her feel welcome, as if her hard work had accomplished much.  These folks could enjoy their lives a bit more, thanks to her labors.  It felt rewarding.  She sometimes smiled behind her helm.

	Of course, as the most experienced member of Axio’s church by far, she didn’t technically have to be here.  She could have taken any field or command role she wanted in his church.  For this, though, she had put her name in the rotation for the job like any other.  She didn’t hold herself above her peers.

	Cavria tracked the progress of one petitioner as he wandered about with a list, apparently seeking some meeting or another.  She smiled as she saw two half-Eladrin children dart around the room, an exasperated parent chasing them about.  There was-


	Cavria slowly opened her eyes.  She heard a concerned voice beside her.  “She’s awake!  Get the others!”

	Cavria blinked and tried to rise, but a thundering pain in her spine prevented that.  She sank back onto whatever surface she was lying on with a shriek of pain, which just sent a lance of agony down her back.  She felt something cloying on her tongue and spat it out, and a wad of clotting blood landed on her white undershirt.

	She stayed still until the reverberations of agony in her back faded, then very slowly relaxed her neck muscles.  Cavria very slowly looked around.  She was in her bed in the church again, her armor was piled haphazardly in one corner.  There was blood on the grille of the helm, she noted.

	“What just happened?” she croaked.

	Brother Corrin’s face swam into view.  “You simply collapsed, sister!” he said worriedly.  Cavria lurched as she suddenly realized she didn’t have her amulet of disguise, but Corrin apparently knew her secret, since he didn’t seem too worried after making eye contact with a devil.  “You were convulsing, spitting blood, hissing!”

	Cavria’s eyes boggled.  “I feel like I just woke up from a nap!”  She tried to raise one arm and gasped in pain.  “Ow!  Fuck, my entire body hurts,” she muttered.

	“You were thrashing pretty hard, sister, we had to remove your armor before you broke a limb,” Corrin said.  He helped her sit up with a supporting hand between her shoulders.

	The door swung open, and a few more of the sisters of the church crowded in.  Cavria managed a tiny smile as they clustered around, faces full of concern.  “Hello, sisters,” she said weakly.  “Sorry I gave you a scare.”


	When the room had quieted down enough for her to get a word in edgewise, Cavria asked for the drapes to be drawn back, and when they were, she saw the sun setting behind the ocean.  She asked for food, and it was brought to her – fresh bread from the ovens and a platter of salad.  She tucked in as she listened to the others talk.

	“The other clerics at the Holyhands House were as baffled as we were,” Corrin said.  “Whatever was happening was no illness or disease of the flesh.”

	“Yeah,” Cavria said.  It still hurt to move, but apparently somebody had shoved a belt between her teeth at some point, so she hadn’t bitten her tongue, and her mouth tasted faintly of leather.  “So… a curse, maybe?”

	Corrin squinted out the window.  “Perhaps,” he said hesitantly, “but I detected none when I cast the spell.”

	“Hmph.”  Cavria finished a few mouthfuls of bread and sipped water with shaking hands.  “Well.  I think I should meditate, see if I can relax enough to sleep,” she said.  “Really sleep, I mean.  Contact Axiopistos.  Maybe he can help.”

	“Let’s hope, sister,” Corrin said worriedly.


	It took some convincing, but eventually, Cavria was able to persuade her fellows to leave her alone for the night.  When the last of them was gone, Cavria shut her eyes and focused her mind.

	At once, to her relief, she felt her body seem to lift and waver, the sure sign that her dreaming mind was on its way to the Arbor of Innocence.  She felt her physical body relax as she sensed Axio’s warm, gentle mind embrace her like a blanket.  Moments later, she opened her spiritual eyes, and saw herself lying on the grass in the Arbor, as clear as day.

	She smiled reflexively as she saw her surroundings.  Axio had barely changed the place when he had taken over, save for displacing a few of the more stubborn petitioners and angels who refused to accept a change in management.  She knew instantly where she was.  It was a large stand of thick pine trees, stretched up high like old growth forest, towards the phantasmal sun that loomed overhead, shining ephemeral light down on the barren ground below.

	Cavria levered herself up from the needled loam and quickly dusted her dream-self off.  It wouldn’t do to appear filthy before her best friend, patron, master, and god.

	A familiar gold and red glow behind her, like a fire that didn’t flicker, filled the air around her.  She turned and bowed to Axiopistos, who loomed before her like a wall.  “Hello, Axio,” she said.

	Normally, there were a few simple rituals they followed.  As dear friends, they were certainly more informal than a normal relationship between a godly patron and their Paladin could ever be allowed to become, but Axio insisted on at least a few points of the proper protocol being followed in his presence.  No frivolity in contact between them, no favoritism among his pious – they both ignored this one the most – and of course, no using Axio’s power to make unfair advantage on their war against evil.  Far older, mightier gods than him had been struck down for lending such aid ini the past.

	Today, however, Cavria felt Axio’s physical avatar take several long steps toward her.  She straightened up from her bow, surprised, then squeaked as she felt strong arms slide around her shoulders.  Soft, warm wings enfolded her; she almost vanished into his embrace.

	Cavria tensed in surprise, then all but melted as his loving greeting wrapped her up tight.  “Cavria, what the hell happened?” the very air around her asked.  “I felt your agony from here!”


	Some minutes later, Cavria was kneeling before him as he sat on a stone in the forest.  They could hear the laughter and playful shrieks of children from the distant playground, but their immediate surroundings were empty.  “And I slept, to find you,” Cavria explained.

	Axio listened intently.  He maintained a regal pose even when sitting, as much by desire to appear authoritive to any watching children as because he was just that kind of man.  He wore no armor on his Avatar today, just a sleeveless vest and layered textile trousers.  He had let his wings flow freely from his back when he had deployed them, but now they were absent, retracted into the divine cloak Eilistraee had given him so many years ago.

	“That is truly bizarre, Cavria,” Axio said after a moment’s pause.  “I shall extend my hand to my elder allies and find any clues I can as to your affliction.  I promise.”

	Cavria bowed her head.  “Thank you.”

	“Please sit up.”  Axio leaned forward slightly.  “Corrin is right.  That was no curse and that was no germ.  You were struck by a physical malady of no arcane or disease, but something else.  What that might be, I do not know, any more than that lad did.”

	“I see.”  Cavria did sit up, and caught the hint of a smile on Axio’s face.  “And yes, Corrin is doing well.”

	The smile came back in full, and Cavria couldn’t help but beam.  Axio’s good cheer had been infectious when he was still flesh and blood, and with the force of a plane of the universe behind it, one would have to be mad not to feel it.  “He’s a good boy, isn’t he?” Axio chuckled.  “I’m glad he came to work for me directly.”  His smile vanished.  “Please, sit with me,” he said, indicating a spot beside him on the boulder.

	Cavria obligingly climbed up.  “So, this malady… do you think it’s some kind of arcane effect, just not a curse?” Cavria asked.

	“I can’t think so, my friend.”  Axio looked up at the wisps of cloud overhead.  “I think it to be a divine act, just not by me.”

	Cavria shuddered.  She relaxed when she felt his hand squeeze hers.  She met his gemstone eyes.  “I know how strong you are,” he said softly.  “You’ll be fine if I have any say in the matter.”

	She smiled slightly.  He was so reassuring.  Just like he had been in life.  “Thanks, Axio,” she said.

	He patted her hand.  “I shall reach out to Azuth and my own master,” he said, referring to the far older god Ilmater, whom he technically served as a vassal.  “If anybody knows, I assume it to be them.  Or perhaps Lurue.”

	“I appreciate it, Axio,” Cavria said gratefully.

	He rose.  “If there’s nothing else, feel free to stay here until you awaken,” he said.  He gestured off towards the miles-wide clearing at the heart of his afterlife.  “My home’s doors are all unlocked for you, my friend.”

	Cavria rose too, and faced him.  In life, they had usually sealed such partings with a kiss, but even she felt that was too much informality for their present circumstance.  Due to the bizarre and torturous origins of her unique soul, she was now (technically) his property, even if they would both have recoiled in revulsion at the mere suggestion in any other context.  As far as she was concerned, she was his servant, and he her benevolent and gregarious employer.

	He swept her into another wing hug, and she giggled.  “Thanks,” she said.


	Cavria wended the next few hours away with her feet in one of the pools of water that pocked the side of the great hole in the ground in which the vast playground sat.  This one had no nymphs in it, but it was self-cleaning and deliciously warm, and despite the hundreds of thousands of children running around on the magical gravity field that permeated the playground, she had it almost to herself.

	Her only companion was a half-drow child she didn’t know, who was lying on her back, her feet in the water, idly watching the playground from a distance of ten feet away.  The huge beehive-like structure stuck out of the ground in the pit like a dwarvish house, and the gravity magic between them was such that people could run down the side of one or leap to the other any time they wanted.

	Cavria ignored the dead girl, and chose to just enjoy the raucous sound of the hundreds of thousands of children playing in the playground.  Every once in a while, one of the lesser angels Axio had in his service would fly through the gap, or one of the Arborguard of elite petitioners would wander by on patrol, sometimes with an especially small tot in their arms, but usually she was the only adult in sight.

	With a pang of regret, she felt her physical self grow restful.  Her time here was ending.  She looked up and searched for Axio’s glow, but there was none to be found.  She shrugged and rose, popping her knuckles, and then she awoke.

	Agony flooded her waking form as her dreaming soul returned, and she whimpered in genuine suffering before her ironclad resolve hardened her to the pain.  She experimentally twitched her body through the checklist of the shock-survivor.  Toes, fingers, ankles, wrists, calves, knees, elbows, shoulders, waist, neck.  She could move; she was simply painfully stiff.

	She forced herself to sit up, yelping in pain as she did so.  She managed to drag herself up to a sitting position on the side of the bed and grabbed her headboard with both hands.  “Fucking fuck, that hurts worse than getting my horns ripped off,” she said to the room.  She was alone.

	With great effort and copious profanity, Cavria forced her pain-wracked body to full verticality, and limped over to the tiny bath.  Crippled or no, the needs of the body still had to be met.

	An hour later, bathed, cleansed, and dressed, Cavria managed to waddle awkwardly out of her room of honor in the rectory.  Aside from Triera, Axio’s blood, Cavria had the room with the highest prestige in the rectory: the one to the left of the the tiny reliquary that held Axio’s physical remains, and the shattered pieces of his gear.

	Most mornings, she turned the other way to walk to the training grounds.  This time, however, Cavria paused and walked into the reliquary instead.  The remains consisted of nothing more than a few ashes in a glass and bronze urn, his blessed holy symbol on a tiny tray beside it, the last few identifiable pieces of his armor, and his magic schiavona.  Cavria flinched as she remembered the savage battle with the ascendant god-dracolich that had claimed Axio’s life and damn near killed her, Verity, Luanea, and Verashon, at the very end of their campaign to destroy the astral god corpses closest to Toril.

	After a moment’s pain, she knelt before the reliquary, and pressed her lips to the holy symbol she wore on a chain around her neck.  That and her magic collar pin had been gifts from Ryaire.  She felt a very distinct feeling of a caress on the cheek, and she smiled.  Axio was still watching her.  Probably fidgeting up a storm and feeling bad on her behalf, too, the big goof.


	By the time she had risen, turned, walked out to the main hallway, and hobbled out to the dining hall for a light breakfast, she had half a dozen sisters and brothers on her arms, helping her.  She felt the amulet sway on the chain around her neck and bump against the table as she laboriously sat down, determined not to show the extent of her unfamiliar weakness.  She had been laid up after having her High Succubus traits amputated, certainly, but not in a long while.

	Triera looked at her worriedly across the table.  “I’m sorry you’re hurting, sister,” she said sadly.

	Cavria managed a lopsided smile.  “Thanks, Triera.”  She gingerly poked her food.  “Your brother says hello.”

	Triera nodded.  “I spoke to him last night.  He’s worried sick about you.”

	Cavria sighed.  “Big surprise.”

	The two women ate in companionable silence for a while, then Triera spoke.  “You know, there’s talk about the other stuff that happened at the Holyhands House after you… fell,” she said.  She paused awkwardly.  “The, uh… of course you couldn’t see it, since you weren’t conscious, but…”

	Cavria looked up.  “Huh?”

	“Axio’s shrine wasn’t the only one with a disturbance,” Triera said.  “Apparently the one for Asmodeus also had a bit of a spat.”

	Cavria gritted her teeth, despite the agony.  “Go on.”

	Triera flinched at the molten hate in her friend’s voice.  “Uh… well, apparently the High Cleric of the shrine had some kind of embarrassing spell,” she explained.  She flicked her blonde ponytail back over her shoulder and shrugged.  “He tried to cast Greater Restoration on some pilgrim, and it failed.  He had to do it three times before it took.”

	Cavria smirked vindictively.  “Thanks.  That makes me feel better.”

	Triera laughed awkwardly.  “Right.”  She knew perfectly well that Asmodeus was Cavria’s creator, and that they hated each other with a seething wrath that would never abate.


	That whole day was agony for the Paladin fiend.  After several hours of trying and failing to hobble around the monastery unaided, she relented and leaned on a crutch she found in the common room, which was normally reserved for crippled faithful attending great ceremonies.  By dinner time, her body was still agony incarnate, but she was at least able to chew at a normal pace.  As the sun fell, all she could hope for was another night of blissful rest.

	As she eased into her bed with much groaning and cursing, Cavria looked hopefully out the window at the glittering lights over the ocean.  Maybe she would get some answers in her dreams.

	Instead, as she slipped into the deep meditative state that she usually enjoyed instead of true sleep, she felt a sense of vague, floating weightlessness.  Mentally, she shrugged.  That was what she usually felt, instead of the sensation of projection and arrival she sensed when she was called to the Arbor.

	That just meant Axio had no news for her.  Oh well.


	As the sun rose, Cavria eased herself from the bed once more, wincing at the pain.  It wasn’t as bad as it had been, but it was still out of the question for her to go for her usual workout.


	Once she was dressed and ready to go, she declared to the assembled breakfasters that she had had enough of being an invalid, and over the protests of her friends, summoned her steed Fathom, the Celestial stag-turned pegasus.  Climbing up with help from a footstool, she walked the great pegasus out into the street and off towards the harbor.

	The great saltwater harbor of Waterdeep was an odd one, by the standards of the Sword Coast.  Not only did it not sit on a great river that fed the port, but it also was deep enough to house an entire merfolk colony and a bronze dragon.  Its archipelago of high, steep islands that ringed it and the massive artillery tower at its north containment wall made it nearly impossible to invade.  No wonder it had named the city.

	Cavria flipped a gold dragon to the City Guard and Watch that stood at the north footpath out of the great harbor.  The coast was dirty and polluted up near the city proper, but on the stretch between the North and Sea Wards and the water itself, the beaches were fastidiously clean.  Lady Laeral’s money had seen that pass.

	The Paladin awkwardly climbed down from her mount and sank onto the sand.  Fathom sat beside her, folding its spindly legs up and settling into the soft white grit; Cavria smiled and leaned on his flank.  “Thanks, buddy,” she said quietly.  Even being little more than a spirit from the Celestial planes manifesting as a stag, then a pegasus once she had mastered Find Greater Steed, he was nice and warm, and they had served together through many battles.

	Despite her current baffling circumstances, Cavria felt no terror or confusion.  She had her friends, and she had her faith.  One way or another, they would figure things out.

	She let her eyes droop as she stared out over the endless waves.  Every once in a while, a great ship would sail by on the ocean, breaking the horizon line, and then it would be gone.  Sometimes, groups of people would walk past on the beach, but none stopped to talk to her.

	Cavria watched those groups go by.  They were mostly humans, but with a few dwarves or elves mixed in, and once, she thought, a silver dragon polymorphed into human shape.

	As the sun peaked high, she cast Create Food and Water.  She ate a lonely lunch as Fathom napped beside her.  Her mind turned over the puzzle of her injury, and the peace of her post-campaigning life.  As a fiend, she had eternal youth, but her group had broken up for good after the death of Axio, to nobody’s shame.  He had been the moral heart of the team, even if Luanea was their leader.

	Luanea.  Cavria smiled faintly as she thought of her friend.  Luanea had long ago moved on from her position in the Temple of the Dark Dancer.  Now, she took the fight to Lolth herself in the Underdark, at the head of the Promenade’s elite strike force of Darksong Knights and tunnel fighters.  A cleric of her power was basically an extension of her divine patronness’ power when she chose to be.  It was a good thing Eilistraee actually liked her quite a lot.

	Cavria sat there, thinking and waiting, for hours, just enjoying the rare luxury of time.  There was no question she could not perform her normal duties so encumbered by injury, magic healing had done nothing, and she had no demands on her remaining adventuring contacts, so… she sat on the beach and prayed.  She sat there and enjoyed the cool sea breeze, the comfy warmth of her bonded steed, the mantras of faith and defense she repeated in her mind, and the certainty that her friends were doing their best to figure out what was going on.


	As the sun crept farther and farther towards the sea, she shielded her eyes from the glare.  After some squinting at its position, she rose to her feet with some great effort.  It was time to go.

	After climbing on Fathom’s back, she rode him slowly towards the harbor again, wondering how much progress had been made.


	None, as it turned out.  Cavria listened as the other clergy of the monastery described how they had combed the building’s limited library, including the notes of its founder, Grand Cleric Solen, and found nothing.

	Cavria leaned back in the leather chair of the little study at the back of the rectory and massaged her eyes.  “I see.  Well.  Thanks, brother,” she said.

	Brother Corrin looked awkwardly at her.  “You seem to be a bit better, sister,” he said.

	“A bit.”  Cavria yawned, wincing through the pain.  “I hope Axio…pistos has the answer,” she said.  She didn’t like using his full name in front of others, but the others didn’t use his familiar name.

	“If anyone does,” Corrin said, bowing his head for a moment.


	As darkness encroached on the orange and pink skies of sunset, Cavria painfully finished disrobing and cleaning, and tucked herself uncomfortably into bed.  To her immense relief, she immediately felt the sense of drifting and rising as she slipped off to sleep.

	When she opened her eyes, she was lying on the soft grass of the Arbor, once again.  This time, she was near the outer edges, nowhere near any of the play spaces, inside the impenetrable tangle of brambles, vines, and gnarled trees that constituted the border of Axio’s realm.  She sat up and drew her knees to her chest, knowing full well he would be with her soon.

	Indeed, she saw a familiar glow of soft, golden light approaching, and she smiled as Axio came into view.  She shifted around to kneel instead.  “Hello,” she said respectfully.

	To her slight surprise, Axio sat before her and crossed his legs, willing his wings away.  When she looked up at his eyes, she recoiled at the look of pain and apprehension on his grave expression.  “Please sit at ease, my friend,” he said quietly.  “There is much to discuss.”

	Cavria did.  He held out one arm, beckoning her closer.  Cavria felt nervous energy fill her heart.  She wanted to rise and pace, but Axio simply did not make such familiar gestures to her any more, since he rose so far above her in divine rank that there was no means of expressing it fairly.  Despite her misgivings, though, Cavria obligingly moved to sit beside him.  When he draped an arm over her shoulder, she felt her nerves turn to actual fear.  Something was badly wrong.

	Axio’s eyes focused on the circle of thorns and brambles around them.  It was affectation, since her soul wasn’t present and this was all just an incredibly convincing illusion, but the impact was real enough.  “As you recall, Cavria, you once swore to my… predecessor… that you would seek and kill your sisters,” he said.

	Cavria nodded.  “Yes.  The other thirty nine High Succubae Prototypes, including the Queen if I can swing it.”

	“Who never leaves Nessus, rendering it a hard target at the best of times,” Axio noted.

	“I like a challenge.”

	Axio half-smiled.  “You always have,” he said warmly.  Cavria felt snuggly inside, and turned to hide her warming cheeks.  “Well.  As of two days ago, your job got a whole lot easier.”  She turned back with her eyebrows up.

	Her divine patron and master met her eyes, and despite the obvious informality of the moment, she still felt a moment of animal fear at the simple power of the man, undercut somewhat by his reassuring squeeze of her shoulder.  “Cavria, Asmodeus dropped the axe,” he said.  “The Archduke has terminated the High Succubus experiment.  He has slain your clade, save you and the queen.”

	Cavria stared, shocked beyond words.  “We suspected he was toying with the idea,” Axio mused, “but then he just went and did it.  He destroyed them all remotely with his power, all save the Queen, who can’t leave, and you.  The pain you felt was his magic erasing the other thirty eight.”

	The clearing fell silent, save the faint noise of the trickling water of the creeks that ringed the spaces for the adult petitioners in the Arbor.  “Oh,” Cavria finally said.  “I see.”

	Axio squeezed her shoulder again.  “You’re free, my friend,” he said.  “Asmodeus can’t hurt you any more.”

	“And… wow,” Cavria managed.  “And that means… it’s over.”

	Axio looked at her silently.  “I… I vowed I would kill my sisters, but now… wait, why spare the queen?” she asked.  “Isn’t she the one in the best position to hurt him?”

	“Not any more,” Axio said.  “She had power over the others, but not him.  Now that the others are all dead, all there is left of her power is what he gives her, and she’s not that much tougher than an Erinyes.  She’s a trophy and a reminder now, no threat by herself.”

	“So I would be better off leaving her alone,” Cavria said.  Her eyes widened.  “So… it really is over.  I discharged my oath to Rya… you,” she corrected.  The fact that Axio had been forced to kill his own great grandmother was a sore point.  Still, he wasn’t upset, he simply nodded.

	“I suppose you have,” Axio said.  “Now you will dissolve into a brimstone ash and be lost to the wind.”

	Despite it all, she laughed.  “Hah!  You should be so lucky, sir,” she teased.  He smiled.  “No, I’m still here, and I still hurt like all fuck off, and I’m… free,” she said.  She closed her eyes against welling tears.  Years of work, done for her.  “Free.”

	Axio materialized a wing and wrapped it around her, and her lip wobbled.  “I’m… free.”  She hung her head and sobbed quietly as a weight she hadn’t even known she had been carrying fell away.  “Free,” she cried.

	Her god gently held her close, lending her his strength, and she took refuge for a moment’s vulnerability in his wellspring of love.  Agape was not yet dead.  When she had managed to bring her surge in emotion back under control, she ground her palms in her eyes.  “So… I guess…” she mumbled indistinctly.

	Axio let her find her voice before speaking again.  “So I guess I can stop worrying,” she finally said.  “This is… it was about the last thing I had expected.”  She focused her eyes on the ground before them, her mind whirring.  “Well… I suppose I should bite the belt and get it over with, then.”

	Her world turned brighter as Axio tilted his head back and stared at her.  “What?”

	She gingerly disentangled herself from his supporting embrace and rose to her feet, slowly walking off towards the thorn walls.  “I did promise, didn’t I?” she asked herself.  She turned to face him, resolute.  “I should take up Lady Eilistraee on her offer to make me something else.”

	Axio climbed to his feet and willed his wings back.  “Explain, please.”

	Cavria raised one hand.  “Remember when we were thrown through the planes, and we arrived at Svartalfheim?” she asked.  He nodded.  “Lady Eilistraee asked me if I wanted to become a different species, something that isn’t fiendish,” she said.  “I said yes, but only after my mission was done.  Well… now it is,” she pointed out.

	Axio grimaced.  “Be careful, Cavria.  Remember, Asmodeus has erased your clade.  The only way to transform you into another species would be to kill you and recast your planar essence without losing your soul to the Fugue Plane first,” he warned her.  “Can you be sure Asmodeus can’t claim you in that time?  I don’t have a fraction of the power needed for that.  I doubt Eilistraee does.”

	Cavria hesitated.  “You mean it would be harder to do it now than it would have before?” she demanded.

	“Yes.”

	She pinched the bridge of her nose.  “Great.”

	“I’m not saying it’s impossible, you understand,” Axio said awkwardly.  “I mean it’s going to require a deity of unfathomable power to do it first.  To transform your physical body is all well and good, but if your soul is not reattuned to your new flesh as well, it may as well just be a casting of Polymorph.”

	“What about Reincarnation?” Cavria asked.

	“That spell would leave you dead for long enough for Asmodeus to claim you,” Axio pointed out.  “If you wish to become mortal, you would need to be transformed in real time.”

	Cavria glared at the dirt.  “This is kind of putting a damper on my unambiguously good news,” she groused.

	Axio looked awkwardly at her.  “I mean, it’s not your fault,” Cavria added quickly.  “This is incredible news!  I’m delighted, I really am,” she hastened to assure her god.  “I’m just thinking quickly.”

	He nodded.  “Very well.”  Soft beams of light spilling through the dense canopy threw shifting shadows on his back as he walked past her to the very edge of the clearing.  “I can ask any of those powers aligned with me if they are willing to help you,” he proposed.  “There may be a trade, however.  This will require a consequential amount of their focus and effort, even for the mightiest of gods.”

	“Worth it,” Cavria said feelingly.  “I don’t want to remain this filthy thing any longer,” she said, jerking a thumb at her heart.

	Axio looked over his shoulder at her.  “You know this will require your eventual death, Cavria,” he said.  “You will lose your eternal youth.”

	Cavria nodded immediately.  “Worth it,” she repeated.  “I’d rather die than stay a fiend forever.”

	Axio turned away.  “Perhaps not,” he said.  “You could choose to become an angel, or a guardinal, or a coatl.”

	“Nope.”  Cavria walked up behind him.  “I don’t want perpetuity, I don’t want a reduction in free will.”

	Axio closed his eyes and smiled.  She was endearing, if stubborn.  “All right, then, my friend.”  He waved his arm, and a passage opened in the brambles to the overhang of trees that delineated the adult petitioner area beyond.  “Go and rest, make yourself comfortable and at home,” he said.  “I’ll speak with my allies and see if I can find somebody who can aid us.”

	Cavria bowed.  “Thank you, Axio,” she said reverently.  “This… this changes everything, doesn’t it?”

	“It certainly does.”


	Cavria finished folding her clothes and slid into the isolated pool she had found, far from any soul or angel in the Arbor, and sunk in up to her nose.  The water was a perfect warmth for her, and as relaxing as only the Arbor could be.  She let her eyes drift half-shut as she luxuriated in the feeling of the healing water.  Technically, the entire experience was still illusory, and she was convalescing in her bed in the monastery rectory, but it was so real to her mind and soul that she saw no reason not to enjoy it.

	Her body was a patchwork of scars from her many amputations and battles.  Her teeth, filed down; her horns, filed down; her claws, removed; her tail and wings, amputated.  She was about half of her nominal body weight, which at least lent her immense strength.  Still, when nobody was looking, and she wasn’t in the middle of something distracting, sometimes the pain came back, an ache that tore into her muscles and throbbed in her bones.  She wanted to abandon that pain and become whole, by becoming less.  It said something about the rigor and thoroughness of her training that she had been more than a match for one of her evil sisters, all the way up to the end of their existence.

	She was alone.  That was huge, but the more she thought about it, the less worried she was.  She had always been apart from them, even at the beginning.  She flinched in her dream as she remembered the moment of her creation, when Asmodeus had thrown her bodily through the window of his fortress into the Styx tributary, and her tumbling body had fallen between the planes into the Abyss.  She shuddered and forced the memory away with her mantras.  That was behind her.

	She had confronted many of her sisters in battle.  Clutch, first, and then Doella, then Soo-Young, then Lick, and then down the list she had gone, until there were no High Succubae in the world of Toril.  Then she had taken to the skies with the Astral Sailer, and she had followed Axio and Luanea into battle, slaying Githyanki and Astral Slavers, and smashing dead gods to free the power trapped within.  She had found two more of her sisters there: Helaita and Fanvel, and broken them.  They had been sent to the capital of Vlaakith the Lich-Queen, in Tu’narath, to corrupt the court of the Illithid-Seekers.  She remembered the frosty reception she and the others had had, and how only the fact that they had killed the High Succubae themselves had kept Vlaakith from killing them on the spot.

	Then off on their adventures they had gone, slaying monsters and freeling slaves from Sigil to Ysgard, from Stardock to Krynn, all in search of the remains of dead gods, drow machinations, and High Succubae.  Then, after eleven years of non-stop fighting, Axio had confronted Annodrath the Dark Viper by himself.  The two demigods had clashed in savage battle, and when Axio had emerged triumphant, and raised his sword for a killing blow, the defeated Annodrath had summoned his invisible reinforcements, who had stabbed Axio in the back again and again.

	Cavria grimaced as she remembered the pain and terror in her heart as she had charged forward to smite Annodrath to ashes, and Suivi had cut down the invisible assassin.  She remembered consoling Lauren on the ship, and the hysterical tears in Kyria’s eyes when they realized Axio had gone so far along the path of divinity that there was no way to drag him back to mortality.  She remembered the bone-chilling fear as she had watched from a distance while Ao told Axio and Ryaire that Ryaire’s gambit had failed.  She recalled how Ao had told them making a person whose portfolio was the same as hers as a buffer against her enemies had just guaranteed that one of them had had to die, and how Ryaire had not hesitated an instant to raise her hand to slay her great-grandson.

	She remembered how horrified she had been when she realized that her savior and her best friend were going to fight, and how quickly Axio had turned and struck his great-grandmother down, and the decades of fear and resentment that had broken free as he had.  She remembered the chaos as Axio had had to purge Ryaire’s loyalists – including her husband – from his ranks, and how the entire church had changed in the Prime.

	Cavria shifted in her bath as she remembered how their party had broken up, and how Lauren had taken their children and left, and nights of inconsolable grief Axio had felt as his mortal life fell apart.  She remembered how Luanea and Verashon had retreated to raise their triplets, and how Suivi and Kyria had retired to enjoy the city without the hectic life of the adventurer, and how Verity and Cavria had thrown themselves into their clergy work to avoid the pain of tumult.

	Cavria opened her eyes and sat up in the bath.  Water ran down her body as she scooted back so the pool only came up to her waist.  She remembered the way life had found a new normal after the chaos ended, and how she had become the left hand of her new god, and the hundreds of nights of meditation and soul journeys she had taken with him, learning the wonders and secrets of the universe.  She smiled to herself as she remembered the startled looks on the faces of the Candlekeep scholars when she had showed up with the cartful of money and manuscripts, asking to buy a new education for herself and Triera.

	She sighed and leaned back on the moss behind the water, letting her legs dangle into the water in her illusory bath.  What a life.  What a weird, bizarre, scary, tense life.  What a way to end it.  Her entire species erased at the whim of an increasingly paranoid devil god.  Nobody could call her life uneventful.

	Cavria couldn’t nap in her own sleep, but she did lie there, shaking off her memories and luxuriating in the rare chance to just be naked and unbothered.  When nearly an hour had passed, and the water’s appeal had ended, she emerged from it and lay on the soft grasses and moss of the forest floor, eyes shut, letting the sunbeams dry her body.

	Clothed again and on her feet, Cavria wandered off through the forest into the area where the petitioners lounged and lived, raising their homes from the forest floor and interacting with each other, and past them towards the great playground.  Not once in the hundreds and hundreds of times she had been there had the sight failed to draw a smile to her lips.

	She stood at the edge of the great pit at the heart of the plane and beamed at the sight of the beehive-like structure rising from below.  The vast playground had a warren of tunnels and smaller play areas in it, with pools, gyms, and great low-gravity webs of climbing tendrils and hidden rooms, all set inside the gravity-manipulated pit.  A few of the souls that passed her even waved as they scampered about, and she waved back.  These were the souls of children so innocent they didn’t even fear a fiend.  Cavria blessed them and stood by watching, knowing well Axio would just come find her when he had something to share.

	Sure enough, after a brief period of watching the innocent dead amuse themselves, she saw hundreds of tiny faces turn to her direction from inside the beehive.  Axio walked up beside her and waved to them from the lip of the pit, and Cavria giggled in joy as she saw thousands wave back, accompanied by an indistinct chorus of welcomes and cheers.

	“Oh, but I love that,” she said happily.  It was all illusion, of course, but it still felt real.  The shadow of herself Axio had brought to his Arbor was but a mere outline of her mind, but she could see through it like she was there.

	“Right?” Axio laughed.  “Gets me every time.”  He turned to her.  “I’ve spoken to my allies, and I was right.  Now that the clade no longer exists, it’s too risky to simply attempt to kill and reincarnate you.”

	Cavria sighed.  “Well, all right then.  What are my options, sir?” she asked.  She didn’t feel very formal, but with such an audience, the rules became more important.

	Axio smiled.  “Eilistraee came up with a simple solution.  We go to the one deity in all the Realms that has the power to spare, and won’t hold it over my head for a thousand years if I ask.”

	Cavria blinked.  “Whom?”

	Axio took her hand.  “Awaken, my friend, and return to your bed,” he commanded.  “You need to ask the priests of Chauntea to let you into their mistress’s arms.”


	Cavria sat up in her bed.  “Chauntea, huh?” she mused through the pain.  “Fair enough.”


	Cavria managed to hobble into the Temple of the Great Mother with aid from one of the attending clerics.  She smiledin thanks as he eased her into a seat once they were safely away from prying eyes.  “Thank you, sir.”

	The cleric nodded and sat across from her.  The room was but a small stone chamber near the back of the large church, replete with the icon of Chauntea carved into every stone.  The room was full of natural light from the broad windows, which were just high enough off the ground to lend privacy from the eyes of passers-by on the grounds.  The great temple was far outside the walls, in any case.  They were surrounded on all sides by the great farms that fed the metropolis of Waterdeep.

	“I was informed by one of the Priests of Axiopistos that you require my aid,” the cleric said.

	“Rather urgently, yes,” Cavria said.  She leaned back in her chair and sighed as her back loudly popped.  “I have a certain malady of the flesh and the soul, sir, and I am told that Chauntea might cure it, but my own temple lacks clerics of the power needed to cast the appropriate spell.”

	The other cleric nodded.  “I see.  Well, then, by all means.  What is the spell?”

	“Plane Shift.”  Cavria noted his eyes growing wider.  “Yes.  I need visit Lady Chauntea’s realm in person in Elysium.”

	The other cleric slowly leaned back in his seat.  “I… see.  Well.  I can do it, madam, but I fear you will have to find your own way back, unless you wish to buy a spell scroll.”

	“I couldn’t use a spell scroll.  I’m a Paladin,” Cavria pointed out.  “Still, I can get back on my own, with help from an ally who will be meeting me there.”

	The other cleric nodded.  “Then so be it.”


	Axio’s Avatar knelt reverently before the glimming field of wheat that sat beside the endless river of Oceanus.  Although projecting an Avatar across the planes was not easy, he felt it was the least he could do to show due respect to Chauntea.  She was, after all, one of the first four deities to ever exist, and presently had the most mortal worshippers in Realmspace.  Her voice in his mind was clear as a ringing bell, and her motherly tone was telling him of the price he was going to pay for her aid.  It was reasonable.

	“Thank you,” Axio said gently.  “It shall be done, so I vouch.”

	A shimmering disc of light appeared behind him.  Axio’s Avatar didn’t turn as a figure emerged from the light, and immediately fell to her knees.  Mud splashed onto her priestess’ robe from the water bank.

	“Okay, ow,” Cavria muttered.  She gripped her wobbly knees with her hands and tried to force herself up.  “Come on, girl, get going,” she said sternly.

	Axio’s Avatar was at her side at once.  “Hush, Cavria,” Axio said soothingly.  His physical touch instantly eased the pain in her flesh as he rested a hand on her shoulder.

	Seeing him in her dreams was nice, but seeing him in the flesh, such as it was, instantly made her feel better, quite apart from his magic.  “Thanks,” she sighed.

	Axio did not rise, but instead gestured to the field.  “Her Ladyship agreed to help you, but this is where I have to go,” he said.

	Cavria looked at him curiously.  “You can’t help?”  She sensed the vast power of Chauntea in the world around her, like feeling the heat from a flame before sensing the burn.  It was incomparable.  No wonder she had the power to remake one fiend with her full consent.

	“Help with what?” Axio asked rhetorically.  “Chauntea doesn’t need me to hold her train.  Besides, you need to make some choices.”

	Cavria puffed a breath out as she hesitantly rose to her feet.  “Yeah.”  She leaned on him for support for a moment longer.  “Axio… thanks for arranging this for me,” she said.  “I’m scared, but I have to do it.”

	“No, but you’ve chosen to, and I support you all the way.”  He rested a hand on the small of her neck and held her against him in one last hug.  “Forever, my friend.  I”ll see you on the other side.”

	Cavria nodded and squared her shoulders.  It was time to abandon immortality, something thousands of spellcasters had spent their entire lives trying to keep forever, in favor of the chance to die.  It was something she was looking forward to more than anything else, and after every other thing she had done in her life, it shouldn’t have even been the hardest.  “What did she ask in return?”

	Axio hesitated.  “It doesn’t concern you, actually.  She asked something of me, instead.  It’s fair, I’ll handle it.”

	“You sure?”

	He patted her back.  “You can help out later if you want, Cavria, but focus on your own issue now.”

	“You’re right.”  Cavria drew a deep breath and let it out again.  “So… I just walk among the plants?” she asked, pointing at the rows of crops in the field.

	“Yes.”  Axio took a step back.  “Good luck, my friend.  I’ll be waiting.”


	Cavria walked slowly among the rustling grains and listened.  The sky overhead was a riot of conflicting light sources.  There was no moon, no sun, no stars above, just the glow of the distant farmhouse and the soil beneath her.  It trickled up into the air like liquid light, every time she took a step and brushed against each neat ridge of soil.

	The world smelled lovely, actually, not the sewage smell of fertilizer and animal blood she was used to.  The grains around her brushed against each other and her in a faint rustling that had completely drowned out the noise of the river behind her.  The very slow turn of the crop lines obscured her divine friend who stayed at the edge of the river, and she was completely alone.

	This was very nice, now that she was paying attention.  She could understand the appeal of the agrarian life to some clerics, and the way you had to hold the life of civilization in your hand to work.  She heard the buzz of a bee in a nearby stalk and the faint caw of a hawk overhead.  This was good.

	The air around her hung heavy with the smell of grains and natural plant pollen, and seemed to ripple with the energies of planar, polar good that sank into the very ground.  This was about as close to the Positive Energy Plane as it was safe to get, and the entire green shell of Elysium pulsed with life.  It was pretty much the exact opposite of the foul Hells in which she had been born.  It was as good a place as any and better than most to be reborn.

	The pain in her body had faded after several days of rest, but now it was fading even faster, even as she walked.  Maybe it was stiffness disappearing as she moved, but she doubted it.

	Finally, she felt she should stop.  She did.  She craned her head back and listened to the farms of heaven, and waited.

MAIDEN OF HELL, HEAR ME.

	When she heard the voice of Chauntea in her mind, it nearly blew backwards with the force of it, and she instantly dropped to her knees in supplication.

YOU SEEK TO ABANDON YOUR FORM AND ADOPT A NEW ONE, FOREVERMORE AND UNTO DEATH AND AFTERLIFE?

	“Yes, Holy Mother,” Cavria whispered.  This was unreal.  She had heard gods speak before, but they were dirty things like Asmodeus, or lesser ones like Ryaire, or familiar but restrained ones like Eilistraee.  Asmodeus had abandoned any sort of proper deific gravitas when he had beat her, Ryaire had nearly knocked her on her ass her just by speaking to her, and Eilistraee had almost blown her soul to scraps by having her Avatar make eye contact with her.  When Chauntea spoke, even without an Avatar present, the raw, ancient power behind her words seemed to cut through her flesh like a knife.

WHY DO YOU WANT TO DO THIS?

	“Great Mother Chauntea, I seek no immortality, and I tire of constantly having to fear and hate my instincts,” Cavria whispered.  “I hate the fear others have for me, I hate the brutal, vicious nature of my flesh.  I want to live humbly, as a woman of mortal nature.”

YOUR TRUE NAME.  SPEAK IT NOW.

	“I am Vreugde,” Cavria said.  “Own my name, Great Mother Chauntea, and cast my sin-flesh away.”

WHAT WOULD YOU BE?

	Cavria paused.  “I… I would be an Aasimar,” she said.  “I would have the god-blood instead of the literal blood of the sin god.”

AND YET YOU CLAIM TO WANT TO LIVE HUMBLY.  WHAT IS HUMBLE ABOUT BEING OF THE CELESTIAL RACE?  WHY NOT A HALFLING, OR A GNOME, OR A HUMAN?  EVEN THE ELADRIN ARE FARTHER FROM THEIR GODS.

	Cavria bowed until her forehead touched the dirt.  “Because my dearest friend was an Aasimar in life, and I would follow his example with my life, Great Mother,” she explained.  It was a bit presumptuous, actually, to ask to be the rarest and highest mortal race, but she had considered it carefully.  “And because they have good health up to the moment of death, or close to it.  Mine shall be a life of activity and vigor, not that of an invalid geriatric.”

SO IT IS.  PLEDGE YOU NOW, VREUGDE-WHO-IS-CAVRIA, AND BE TRANSFORMED.  PLEDGE YOURSELF NOW TO MORTALITY, CAST ASIDE YOUR FIENDISH NATURE, AND REATTUNE YOUR NATURE THE UNBOUND WILL OF THE PRIME.  ONLY BY THE DIRECT AID OF A GOD CAN YOU EVER PERPETUATE YOUR LIFE, AND ONLY THEN IN THEIR SERVICE.  NO LICHDOM FOR YOU SHALL THERE BE, VREUGDE-WHO-IS-CAVRIA, NO ETERNAL UNDEATH.  SHOULD AGE CLAIM YOU, SHOULD YOUR PATRON GOD WITHDRAW THEIR SUPPORT, THERE SHALL BE NO GOING BACK.

	“I vow it now, without reservation,” Cavria whispered to the soil.  “No vampire or lich shall I become, nor the cursed eternity of the item-bound.  Only from a divine source shall my life come.”  She paused.  “Does that mean, Great Mother, that I may be resurrected if I fall in battle?”

INDEED, FOR NO PRIVILEGE BESTOWED ON A NORMAL ADVENTURER SHALL BE DENIED YOU.  SO HAS AXIOPISTOS BARGAINED.  WOULD YOU KNOW WHAT PRICE YOU HAVE INCURRED?

	Cavria froze.  “Great Mother Chauntea, that is between you and him,” she said awkwardly.  “I have faith in him, and I think you will do right by him.  Us.”

CAVEAT VENDITOR.

	The Paladin felt an icicle run down her spine.  “…Is there something I should know and do not, Holy Chauntea?” she asked carefully.

WHAT DO YOU THINK?  ANSWER, VREUGDE-WHO-IS-CAVRIA.

	For the first time, Cavria felt the compulsion to speak.  Her skin crawled as the use of her True Name compelled her, despite what she herself wanted, to talk.  Chauntea was the last being in the universe she thought would ever use that power against her.  “I think not,” she said.  “I trust Axiopistos.  I know he wouldn’t have entered into an unfair bargain when he has so many innocents to protect.”  The words had barely left her mouth when she realized what was happening.  Of course.  This was a test to her, to see if she deserved the effort that was about to be exerted on her.  And of course, good and evil, lawful or chaotic, neutral or opinionated, the one thing the gods cared about more than anything was loyalty.

	Cavria raised her head from the ground and stared up into the alien sky.  “I trust him as a master.  I love him as a friend and protector.  I want my body to not be this crippled mass of amputations and sin.  If you think you named an unfair price to Axiopistos, name one to me.  I will pay it.”

BOW YOUR HEAD, VREUGDE.

	Cavria did so.

I RESPECT YOUR FAITH, AND YOU HAVE EARNED THIS BOON.  YOU HAVE DONE AS YOU SHOULD, AND TAKEN THE BURDEN ON YOURSELF, AND OFF OF YOUR SPONSOR.  SO SHALL YOU BE AASIMAR, FIEND-DAUGHTER, AND SO SHALL YOU LIVE AND DIE A WOMAN IN TRUTH AS WELL AS FORM.  THERE IS A PRICE YOU SHALL PAY, AND IT SHALL NOT BE A SHALLOW ONE, BUT A PRICE NEED NOT BE WORTH MORE THAN THE PRIZE.  HERE THEN, SHALL BE YOUR FINAL CHANCE TO TURN BACK FROM THIS PATH OF TRANSMOGRIFICATION.  YOU SHALL ACCEPT OR YOU SHALL DENY, NO SECOND CHANCES OR DELAYS.

	“Then name it, Lady Chauntea,” Cavria said.

THE WORLD IS CHANGING.  SOME OF THE CHOSEN ARE RETURNING TO YOUR PLANET.  YOUR CHURCH LACKS LEADERSHIP, MINE LACKS COHESION, AND OUR MUTUAL ALLIES ARE REELING FROM THE PACE OF THE WORLDS.  YOU SHALL BECOME MORTAL, AND AXIOPISTOS SHALL PAY NO PRICE, BUT YOU, VREUGDE, SHALL BECOME A CHOSEN, AND THAT CHOSEN STATUS SHALL BELONG TO BOTH AXIOPOSTOS AND MYSELF.

	Cavria’s eyes bugged out.  A Chosen?  Her?  And a Chosen with two masters, at that?  Had there even been one since Qilué Veladorn?  “Such an honor,” she breathed.  “It seems I gain the most of this bargain, does it not?”

DO YOU?  CHOSEN DO NOT AGE, AND THEY BECOME HARD TO KILL.  THEY SERVE THEIR MASTERS AND THEY DO SO WITH LITTLE SAY IN THE MATTER.  OF COURSE, YOU COULD ALSO REFUSE YOUR STATUS, AND BECOME A MERE MORTAL, BUT IF YOU TRULY WANT THE ONE WHO FIRST MADE THIS REQUEST OF ME TO AVOID ANY COST, THEN THE COST ON YOU SHALL BE GREAT, AND PERHAPS NOT FULLY PAID AT ONCE.  IF WHAT YOU WANT IS TRULY DEATH, AND TRULY AN END TO YOUR EXISTENCE WHEN THE TIME COMES, ACCEPTING THIS DEAL WILL PUT THAT DATE OFF IN THE FAR FUTURE.

	Cavria closed her eyes as the enormity of the decision hit her.  It was true.  Chosen like Axio didn’t age past a point.  He had been in his mid twenties for nineteen years.  “I think… I should thank you, first, Great Mother,” she said carefully.  “Such is a rare honor indeed.  However, I have existed at the beck and call of Asmodeus and Ryaire for my entire life.  I would rather retain my own free will, and become a mortal of more normal stature.”

THEN AXIOPISTOS SHALL HAVE TO LEND THE FULL FORCE OF HIS CHURCH TO MY OWN AID IN THE DEFENSE OF MY FAITHFUL FROM THE COMING WAR AGAINST THE LOLTHITES THAT SHALL RISE UP TO DESPOIL GOLDENFIELDS, AND LAY WASTE TO THE LAND FOR A DOZEN MILES.

	Cavria frowned again.  “Is that all?  Then I accept that deal as it was first proposed, my Lady, and I’ll stand at the gates of Goldenfields with a glaive in one hand and holy fire in the other, for as long as I need to, to see off the drow with blood and sweat.”  As she said it, she knew the second test she hadn’t even realized was a test had ended, and she had passed.  After all, every god valued loyalty above all else, but Chauntea valued hard work more than any other.  Subtle.  Chauntea had made it sound like Cavria’s request was unreasonable, and thus deserving of more than Axio had offered to pay, and Cavria had rejected it offhand.  Once again, Cavria forced herself to remember that Chauntea was a being of far greater power and complexity than any deity she had ever had dealings with before.

THEN THERE IS NOTHING MORE TO SAY, LITTLE ONE, AND ALL OATHS SHALL BE DISCHARGED.  LONG, BLESSED LIFE SHALL BE YOURS.  GIVE ME YOUR CONSENT TO REBIRTH.

	Cavria drew in her last breath as a fiend.  “I consent, Great Mother Chauntea.”  Cavria hissed in pain as her body suddenly seized.

BE GONE, FLESH OF SIN, AND LIFT THE SOUL FREE.  BE FORMED, FLESH OF HOLY BLOOD, AND TAKE THE SOUL WITHIN; BE UNBURDENED, BE WHOLE, BE RIGHT.

	Total, utter agony ripped through her for a moment, and then, to her silent horror, she felt her flesh and her clothes fall away and melt into the ground like snow into a gutter.  Incorporeal and insignificant, she wheeled in place, then she felt the ground shake beneath her.  The soil shifted and shaped, and the plants around her twisted to lend their fibres to a form, a woman’s form, full and beautiful, that came together and took on the semblance of life.  Cavria watched in awe and religious fear as her new body emerged from the energies and physical components of the world around her.  Strands of wheat stalk became hair, water from the ridges of dirt became blood, seeds from great golden shafts of grain became organs, and the soil became her skin.  Suddenly, Cavria’s incorporeal self flowed into the body, and her life as a fiend came to an end.


	Cavria slowly opened her eyes.  Every single sensation was different, and she didn’t know what she had expected.  The dirt beneath her hands pressed down as she slowly rose, naked and as soft as a baby’s skin.  She drew in her first breath as a free woman and sat up.

	The field looked the same, she knew.  Nothing around her changed, save for the bare cup of dirt in which she lay, and from which she had been formed.  Despite that, however, there wasn’t a single thing around her that looked the way it had before.  She couldn’t see the walls of planar energy that permeated the world around her as Chauntea maintained it, but she also didn’t feel suppressed urges to find somebody to hurt so she wouldn’t hurt alone.  She felt whole and healthy and beautiful, and not in the way that made her want to find some impressionable boys and girls to tempt to sin.  Cavria slowly stood, and as always, she didn’t feel ashamed to be naked; it used to be because she was to tempt others with the promise of exposed flesh to carnal crime, and now it was because she was a newborn.

	She started to say something, but before she could, she was struck with a sudden urge to laugh.  She fell back to her knees and pressed her hands down on the soft earth and gave in to the urge.  Her hair fell down on either side of her head and pooled on the ground.  It was auburn now, she noted, not black.  Her hands were a very tan color.  She laughed, and she laughed and laughed until her stomach hurt and her eyes spilled salty tears on the barren ground below.  She laughed until her back was seizing and her heart ached with delight and relief and utter, indescribable joy.

	At last, she threw her head back and turned her tear-streaked face to the sky.  “Thank you!” she screamed, all gravitas and worry utterly gone.  “Thank you!  Thank you, forever!”

	When her hysterical laughter and tears had wound down to the mere sound of the wind in the holy crops, and her throat was raw from hyperventilating in delight and head-spinning joy, Cavria slowly rose to her feet again, smiling so hard her ears were popping.  “Thank you,” she sobbed.  “Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

THERE IS A PRICE TO BE PAID.

	The voice caught her up, but now it didn’t feel like a kick in the ovaries with every word.  Now, it felt oddly comforting, despite its size.  Cavria marveled.  Is this how it was supposed to feel to talk to one of the most purely and utterly good beings in the multiverse?  She wanted to hold a lengthy chat with Chauntea now, now whimper for mercy and cower in shame.  Still, she took a knee again and bowed her head.  “I swore I would pay it, Great Mother, and I will, just let me know when,” Cavria promised.  She sniffled and wiped tears away with a muddy hand.  “Thank you.”

BE CLAD IN THE RAIMENT OF NEW LIFE, CAVRIA.  YOU ARE VREUGDE NO MORE.  NO CHILD OF NESSUS LABORATORIES DO YOU REMAIN, BUT BUILT OF THE EARTH OF THE GOOD FIELD, THE BLOOD OF GROWTH ITSELF, AND THE LOVE OF TRANSITORY JOY, FOR THAT IS WHAT LIFE IS, AND IF YOU DID NOT UNDERSTAND IT WELL, NO BOON FROM ME WOULD YOU HAVE EARNED.

	Cavria looked up to see the nearest plants bend and shift, and a beautiful garment of spun cotton emerged from the plants.  It was a soft, muted green, with knee-length folds that tucked together with a simple belt, with the symbol of a flowering purple plant on the collar.  “Oh!  Thank you,” she said again, feeling dumb for saying the same thing over and over.  She snuggled into the absurdly comfortable robe and cinched it tight.

GO TO YOUR MASTER, NOW, CAVRIA OF ELYSIUM.  MAY YOUR LIFE BE FRUITFUL, YOUR WORD UNTARNISHED, AND YOUR SPIRIT WEIGHED BY NO MORE BEFOULMENT.  THUS SPEAKS CHAUNTEA.

	Cavria smiled and began walking back.  “I suppose this makes me my new mother, the same way Asmodeus was my old father, doesn’t it?”

INDIRECTLY, PERHAPS, BUT I CLAIM NOT YOUR SOUL.  NO, YOUR SOUL BELONGS TO YOU NOW, TO BE ENTRUSTED TO YOUR MASTER OR NOT, AS YOU SHALL DECIDE.  BUT YOU ARE ALWAYS WELCOME HERE, AND HONOR SHALL BE UPON YOU IF YOU KEEP TO YOUR WORD AND DEFEND THE THRESHHOLD OF MY ABBEY AS YOU HAVE SWORN.

	Cavria grinned confidently as Axio’s glow came back into view.  “Count on it, your Ladyship Chauntea.  I’ll hold the farm or die trying.  Freely.”

MORE’S ASMODEUS’ LOSS, GIRL, THAT SOMETHING SO GOOD COULD COME FROM SOMETHING SO EVIL.  FARE THEE WELL.  PERHAPS WE SHALL MEET AGAIN.


	Axio rose from his still vigil as he saw a woman approaching him from within the endless row of food.  He smiled hopefully when he didn’t recognize her flesh, but he knew every single mark and scar on her soul.  “Cavria,” he said warmly, and his friend all but launched into his arms.

	“Axio!” Cavria laughed.  He swept her off her bare feet and up in to the air, twirling her about.  “It worked!”

	Axio beamed a smile at her and hefted her high off the ground, holding her aloft with her back to the distant glow of a town around the bend of the river.  She was a new woman, no doubt, but she was still his dear friend and most favored servant.  “It certainly did,” he said fondly.  He turned his smile to the fields of food and bowed his head as he set Cavria down.  “And thus is our deal ironclad, Green Lady of the Fields, and so shall my aid be rendered unconditionally and without hesitation.”

	He noted Cavria cocking her head and looking confused, so he hastened to explain.  “Our agreement, to turn you into a better form for my aid,” he said.  “Like I said, don’t worry about it.”

	“Yeah, you promised to lend divine aid to the defenders of Goldenfields when the Cult of Lolth comes to flatten it,” Cavria said.  Axio blinked in surprise.  “Lady Chauntea told me, it’s fine.  I’ll be joining the defenders, too,” she said.

	Axio looked crossly at the sky.  “She said she would impose no more burdens on you for accepting the deal,” he remarked.

	“Hey hey, now, come on,” Cavria said carefully.  “I offered to help, and she accepted.  It was how we came to this agreement,” she added.

	Axio turned to face her again.  “Agreement?  Oh!  Oh, you’re not human,” he observed.

	“No, I’m an Aasimar, like you were,” Cavria said.  She was still a bit giddy.  She twirled on the muddy riverbank.  “See?  And she said I would have a good, blessed life,” she said joyously.  “Oh, Axio, it’s wonderful!  I thought it would be some subtle thing, all my bad instincts and urges would linger, but no!  I’m free!  They’re just gone!” she all but shouted.  She could have skipped.

	Axio smiled again and slid his arms under hers for a tight hug.  “I’m so glad for you,” he said quietly.  He held her back at arms’ length and looked her over with his physical and divine eyes.  “You’re still beautiful, too,” he said fondly.  “Look at you.”

	“Oh, I need to see a mirror,” Cavria laughed.  “I didn’t actually specify how I would look.”

	“Well, you have auburn hair and black eyes, now,” Axio noted.  “You’re the same height.”  He waved a hand.  “But enough.  Let us impose on good Chauntea’s time no longer.  Away to the Arbor with us, my friend, to celebrate, and let you recuperate.”

	Cavria put a hand over her stomach.  “Oh!  Oh, wow, I just noticed how hungry I am,” she said.  She shook her head.  “Of course.  Who’s born with food in their belly?  I don’t know why I’m surprised.”

	Axio laughed.  “Indeed.”  He materialized his wings and wrapped them tight around her, over his arms, which he rested chastely on her back.  “To home, then.”


	In the Arbor, Cavria had half expected a party in her honor, but what she got was better.  Axio had conjured an oversized chaise longue, an ice bucket with a bottle of extraordinarily good sparkling grape juice that he knew she enjoyed more than actual wine, and a self-playing harp, all of which he had arranged under a tree in the quietest, most isolated part of the Arbor’s woods.  Cavria, after a moment getting her bearings, had settled in beneath the tree and stretched out luxuriously.  “Ahh… mortal and relaxing, life is good,” she said.

	Axio stood aside from her and smiled.  “Well.  I’ll leave you to enjoy the moment.  When you’re ready to go, you know how to grab my attention.”

	Cavria closed her eyes.  “So… how did you know this is what I wanted more than anything?”

	“I’m your god, Cavria, but I’m also your friend, and I’ve known you for a long time,” Axio said drily.  “Rest easy, my friend.”  His Avatar faded from view.


	Cavria sipped the drink and set it aside, just enjoying the light on her face.  She wasn’t afraid, she didn’t feel the well-controled but neverending desire to harm the petitioners in the nearby woods, and she could relax without having to cast Protection from Evil.  Life was good.

	Every few minutes, she would be overcome by fits of giggles as some new reality dawned on her.  She would be able to sleep normally!  She would be able to safely lose her virginity at last!  She would be able to have a family if she wanted – or not! – as she saw fit!  She could enter consecrated ground!

	Cavria wiped a tear from her eye and sipped her drink.  Yes, she did need time alone before she was with the others.  She needed to process her new circumstance.

	She rolled onto her side and set her drink down on the table beside the chaise lounge and tugged her robe tighter.  She snuggled down into the soft fabric and beamed a grin into the empty clearing.  It just felt so good.  She had been fighting her instincts for the past sixteen years, forcing herself to be better than her default instincts would allow, and now, she could do whatever she fancied.


	Axio’s Avatar vanished as he withdrew his focus from it.  His new godhood was a huge pain, but it had definite perks.  He looked down on the world of Toril and saw a desperate prayer to his name from the temple in Waterdeep; a single father whose child had vanished.  Axio searched and found them, wandering lost and scated in the Trade Ward.  The tiniest spark of his power entered a nearby candle, turning the flicker of its light to shine off a streetsign, and the child suddenly knew where he was.  He took off running for home.

	He saw a brace of youngsters in the Halruaan toxin zone struggling mightily to escape the mutant wolves on their heels, and felt sorrow pang in his heart when he realized they wouldn’t make it.  With all due solemnity, he prepared a place for them in the playground.

	He saw an angel at the perimeter, slashing mightily at an Oinoloth that was trying to get access to spread its poison within.  With a whisper, the angel suddenly doubled in speed, carving the startled Oinoloth to shreds.

	Before he had attained divine power, he had wondered how he could ever have enough to do all the things he wanted or needed to do.  Now that he had it, he had to admit, there were parts he enjoyed, but at times, all he wanted was to be a normal man again.  Although perhaps normal was the wrong word.  He had never been normal, not really.

	He became suddenly aware that Cavria was searching for him as she departed from the place he had set aside for her.  He manifested an Avatar to speak to her there.


	Cavria smiled as strong arms slid around her stomach from behind.  Warm, soft wings embraced her.  “Hello, sir,” she said playfully.

	Axio squeezed her.  “Are you ready to go home?”

	Cavria sighed.  “Yes.  I should go show the others what’s become of me.”

	“How much did you tell the rest of the church of your plans?” Axio asked.

	“Not a word.  I wanted it to be a surprise,” Cavria said.

	Axio snorted.  “Well, they’ll be surprised, all right.”


	Heads turned in the Monastery of Innocence as Cavria walked back in.  She walked in as if she owned the place, having recollected her personal effects from the temple of Chauntea.  Without a word, she walked straight through the public area, drawing more and more eyes as she entered the rectory with a key, closed it behind her, and walked right into her room.

	She made it all the way to her door before somebody hesitantly spoke up.  “Uh, excuse me, miss,” Triera said, poking her head out her door.

	Cavria stopped and turned, eyebrows raised.  “Hmm?”

	“What are you doing in Cavria’s room?” Triera asked.

	Cavria considered that.  “Oh… moving in,” she said, and closed the door.

	She was waiting inside the door with her hands at he rback and a mischievous grin on her face when Triera pushed it open to follow.  The young Paladin stopped short when she saw Cavria standing there, and raised her hand to address her, then paused.  “Wait…”

	Cavria spread her arms wide.  “It’s me.”

	Triera gaped.  “You… it’s… how?” she stammered.

	Cavria moved in for a hug.  Triera started and awkwardly returned the gesture.  “I got some help,” Cavria said cheerfully.


	Three hours later, over a sprawling meal and clad in more formal clothing, Cavria explained the entire affair.  Leaving out only the most intimate details of her metamorphosis, and the terms of her deal with Chauntea, Cavria explained the decision to her fellow clergy.  Cavria was not typically the sort of person who felt compelled to be, or even comfortable, explaining the aspects of her strange life, so the others found nothing odd about her withholding some information.

	When it was over, the food was eaten, and the freshly-mortal Cavria stretched and sat back in her chair to bask.  “Ahhh… well, that’s that, then,” she said contentedly.

	Triera crossed her arms and fixed her gaze on her friend’s strange new appearance.  “So… what’s next?” she asked.  The other clergy were filing away now, back to their normal duties.

	“Next?  Nothing’s next,” Cavria said cheerfully.  “I don’t have any other obligations.  I get to go to bed, wake up, train, pray, work, go to bed, and do it again the next day.  The big difference is that now I don’t have an evil god coming for me at all times.”  She leaned forward and refilled her water.  “Nope, now I can be my own person.”

	Triera smiled.  “Well… I guess this is the new face to get used to, huh?”

	Cavria blinked.  “Oh, right, I still haven’t looked in a mirror.  I suppose I should.”  She brushed crumbs off her robe and rose.  “Let’s see the new me, then.”

	Cavria walked back out of the dining area and into the washroom of the rectory, then stood before the waist-to-ceiling mirror there.  “Wow,” she said softly.  She ran her hands over her cheeks.  “This… is really different.”

	The only thing she instantly knew to be her own was her forehead.  Her ears were smaller, and lacked the distinct point they had before.  Her nose was longer and slightly thicker, and her eyes were set a tiny distance apart past where she was used to.  Her teeth were smaller, now, and snow white instead of yellow.  Her auburn hair looked almost incongruous over her skin, which was much darker than Triera’s pale pink, but miles from her former blood red.

	“I dunno, I can’t tell,” Triera joked.

	Cavria snorted.  “This is going to take some getting used to.”  She turned her back to the mirror and relaxed the back of her robe, looking over her shoulder as she did.  “Do I have feathers on my back?  I know some Aasimar do… nope, I don’t.  Huh.”  She tightened her clothing up and cinched her robe.  “I wonder what my angelic trait is, if it’s not a feathered back.”

	“Do all Aasimar have them?” Triera asked.  “I’m one eighth Celestial, and I don’t have anything physically different about me.”

	Cavria shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I guess I’ll have to wait and see.”  She returned to looking at her face, slowly running her fingertips over her new visage.  “This is so weird, but I like it,” she said.  She had rounder cheeks now, and slightly thinner lips, too.  “I’m no decent judge, but I think it’s a lot better than Hellfire Red,” she quipped.

	Triera chuckled.  “Do all your clothes still fit?”

	Cavria fingered the flap of her robe.  “I mean, I haven’t tested all of it, but I don’t feel bulkier or thinner,” she said.  “What I should worry about is my armor.”

	“Oh, yeah.  That’s in the arms locker, if you want to try now,” Triera said.

	Cavria finished examining herself, and turned to her friend.  “No, that’s fine.  I’ll try it tomorrow.”

	Triera glanced out the high window.  “Well.  I’m leading vespers, tonight, if you want to join us.”

	“Oh, of course,” Cavria said.  “Lead the way.”


	That night, Cavria settled into her bed, her mind still whirring with the implications of her new mortality.  Intellectually, she knew much of her day to dayphysical activities would be the same.  She had exerted iron discipline for sixteen years so that she wouldn’t have to be constantly monitoring her every own action, just to make sure she wasn’t giving in to her fiendish instincts to main and kill and damn.  Now that she couldn’t do those things, now that she lacked those instincts, her actual interactions with the world would be almost the same.

	But now, she thought happily, her own life would be immeasurably easier.  Chauntea had been generous and not robbed her of her physical strength, which Cavria had earned as far as she thought of herself.  After all, Cavria had spent over a decade and a half constantly training and exercising specifically to ensure that she never softened, that she had all the power she could wield on her deities’ behalf, and not once had it flagged.  She was just glad Chauntea had seen fit to honor that commitment.

	Cavria rolled onto her side and looked out the window at the dim lamps of the street beyond, still visible through a crack in the curtains.  She pondered the new life ahead of her, and what it could mean, and where she would go next, until she fell fast asleep, and her dreams, for once, were neither visitation nor nightmare.  She just slept.