The Judgement of Li-varili

THE JUDGEMENT (stripped)

A halo of light surrounds the massive conch shell of scintillating energies, growing brighter and brighter and brighter until suddenly, the light fades, and the shell is nowhere to be seen.

Ripples of immanidivinus power echo through reality, emanating from the Prime Material Plane. There is a hush, an expectant drawing forth of energy, as if the First World were becoming more saturated in essence and in colour.

Over the Basin of Life, the skies rumble with dry thunder. Even above the seas, the air seems to be drained of moisture. Parched.

In the Divine Havens above, a gathering. Flashes of light and lightning, the sweep of winds. The tremor of Divine footsteps.

As if in unison, with a crash of echoing Divine voices, there is a collective shout that resounds through the bones of the world.

"THE JUDGMENT OF LI-VARILI IS COME."

The earth shakes, and the seas and rivers crash against their shores.

"THOUGH WE CONVENE IN THE HAVENS, WE GIVE LI-VARILI HER ONE CONCESSION, THAT YOU SHALL WITNESS HER JUDGMENT THROUGH HER OWN EYES."

A jagged shining object pierces the Havens and falls down towards Avechna's Peak, glinting and glimmering with blinding light.

"GO ONCE MORE TO THE EMPTY FULCRUX THAT WAS ONCE OF THE WHITE FLAME."

"YOU HAVE GIVEN YOUR TESTIMONY. NOW, COME AND SEE."

A barren and empty fulcrux.
15:09:01 A sprawling desert expands outwards into the distance, filling the horizon in all directions with a rich, vibrant orange hills. Rock formations rest at irregular intervals amidst the terrain, occasionally spewing great coruscating fountains of pearlescent flame that send pulses of light high into the firmament, throbbing with a soothing warmth. Despite the activity of the atmosphere, a distinct sense of sanctity and protection lingers lightly in the air. Centrally within the landscape rise seven large, pristine columns of white marble that reach high above, beyond mortal eyesight. Within, a smooth granite flecked with darker minerals provides steady surface, upon which rests a great shrine. Overhead, the sky contorts in an unusual manner, twisting from rich, vivid purples to smooth, iridescent creams. Indeterminate shapes swirl within the many facets of this observation crystal as it hovers freely in the air, humming with power and blushing light. A creature of starlit shadow is here, blending in with the ambient darkness.
You see a single exit leading through a bright fountain of white flames.

PROBE CRYSTAL
Though asymmetrical in appearance, this mighty crystal nonetheless has a fine shape: no jagged edges here or wild protrusions, but instead the smooth tapering of its many facets and sides into two points at either end of its length. Warmth engenders the hand when touched, a sensation brought by the swirling immanidivinus energies that imbue the crystal with a subtle aura of power and muted light; it is from this energy too that images resolve within the stone, indeterminate shapes or figures that seem to snap into sharp relief before dissolving again into obscurity. A feeling of vertigo overwhelms the senses when looking through the crystal for too long, almost as if one were not peering through the pale, translucent stone but rather looking through the window or the eyes of another.
It weighs about 1000 pounds.
It has the following aliases: crystal, observation, memory.
The observation crystal hums silently and brilliantly.

An haze rises from the crystal, bringing images and sound, which come to surround you in an imitation of reality.

Like a mirage, the desert air around you ripples and wavers, then solidifies: the Divine of Lusternia stand before you, superimposed upon the empty sands even as indeterminate shapes shift and dissolve inside the still-warm observation crystal.

One notable personage, however, is conspicuously missing from view: Li-varili, the Lady of the Lagoons. It is not Her visage that you see among the gathering but Her seething contempt that you feel, and it radiates in vicious waves from the gleaming crystal projecting images and voices around you.

Through your connection to the Silent Lord you sense the faintest trace of His impressions, the heat of the place He stands, and a simmering distaste for some in His company.

"Really?" sneers the cold voice of Li-varili, her every word dripping with disdain. "A desert. We're doing this in a desert."

The Silver Goddess looks briefly to the Serene Goddess at Her side, then focuses Her unsettlingly large eyes directly upon the crystal. "It was My idea, and I am no more happy about it than You."

"Yet You can leave at any time." The Lady of the Lagoons sighs, then affects boredom. "And I am stuck here, imprisoned again."

"Behold the absolute hypocrisy of the Gods," She spits.

"You are hardly imprisoned," whispers the Silent Lord, His voice filling the desert despite its hush.

Faint impressions of irritation and contempt linger from your connection with the Silent Lord.

Pure, unadulterated disdain swells within the crystal and roils outward, painting the sands the ruby hues of bromeliads.

Trailing tulle and darkness against the sands, Drocilla, the Enchantress steps closer to the crystal. "You will not be abandoned here, Li," She says, fervent. "I promise."

"Where have I heard that before?" the Lady of the Lagoons sneers. "Oh. Silly Me, it must have slipped My mind that You promised Me the exact same thing when You left Me to rot in the Morokeche Seat."

The Enchantress's image pauses, Her beautiful eyes searching the crystal as though seeing Li-varili in the Divine flesh before Her. "And yet," She croons softly, "I kept My promise to free You when You were bound by the Empyreal."

A flare of incandescent light sears the image of Lantra as She takes a step nearer. "Spew lies if You will to mortals, but She was not My prisoner. She was My patient, and You Her afflicter."

The Restless leans back, examining His fingers idly. His tone of voice is bored. "I thought We were here to ask Li-varili questions and work out just what to do with Her. Not pick fights? Did We not have enough time for that in My absence?"

Terentia's voice is firm, as unbending as bared steel. "That is what She agreed to."

The Empyreal pauses, then recentres Herself, once more the very image of poise and self-possession.

The Lord of Epicurean Delights puffs on His long-stemmed pipe in the momentary quiet, His eyes upon the central crystal. "The mortals have given their testimonies, and We have listened. What stories they have told, and in so many different flavours."

The silver butterflies perched in the Silver Lady's hair take flight as She cocks Her head, eyes unblinkingly regarding Lantra. Then She turns Her attention forward. "They've spoken oft of Your Awakening. And so I've a question. Li-varili, You were once part of so many Awakenings. You very nearly Awoke Spirit Sea so long ago! Did You not even think to ask for help in Your work again? Surely Carakhan, or--"

Swirling thoughts and visions invade your mind's eye, the link between you, the crystal, and Li-varili whipping about furiously like the sea. But in a moment of pause, something rises from the foam: Keltari and Li-varili, standing side by side, gazing out at the bejewelled horizon of the most serene sea. And then, in a sudden surge, it is torn away. Drowned by other thoughts.

The crystal flashes with emotion as the Lady of the Lagoons snarls, "Do NOT suggest I lower Myself to working with that thief. She mocks Me for My Keltari's choices."

"You could as much own Keltari as You could the Seas themselves," the Sculptor of Waves says evenly.

"Which I do." Hatred seethes across the desert, and the images of the Gods ripple like mirages. "You, *Thief*, stole My Daughter from Me, even as You and Yours make demands."

"How possessively You speak of the one that You called Your Vengeance. *Your* Vengeance, *Your* daughter, *Your* Keltari." Carakhan's hand shifts on Her trident as the waters that carry Her churn, Her scales glittering. "*Your* thirst to claim solely what was never Yours is what has brought You to this pass, as all that might quench it slips through Your fingers, leaving You with nothing but Your own venom."

Bitter, bitter amusement froths in your awareness, tinting the crystal's surface a poisonous red.

"In truth, I would not be here at all were it not for the Betrayer." The Goddess's voice is like a kiss from Her whip: it lashes, scouring the dry desert air with its bitter salt.

The exquisite form of Drocilla rounds upon the place where Li-varili must stand. "I thought I had made Your fate perfectly clear had I not hidden You, and still You..."

"Still I what?" She sneers in answer. "Still I seek justice for what I have suffered? Still I bring Your crimes to light? Tell Me. Your precious mortal toys are listening."

Li-varili's thoughts roar above your own like a furious wave cresting before it descends, echoing loudly through the crystal to you: And the BETRAYER! They have HER judge ME! SHE who partook the Elixir? SHE who pushed ME into that DAMNABLE SEAT! She who would

"Still You blame Me for Your own shortcomings," the Enchantress snaps.

The observation crystal pulses with salted fury, radiating tempestuous heat that overpowers even the desert air around you as Li-varili snarls, "My only shortcoming was ever trusting You."

A clamouring of muted voices arise, several of the Gods arguing or asking questions on top of one another - the crystal's bearer seems unable to focus on any, so heatedly does Her violence burn.

Finally, a saccharine sweetness overwhelms your senses, and the image of Crumkane, the Epicurean Lord sharpens. He puffs on His pipe, then exhales into the growing quiet and asks, "Why *were* You bound to that wretched device?"

Abrupt laughter spills forth from the crystal, as mirthless as the roiling seas, even as it mingles with stomach-churning disgust. Too sweet. Too sweet. Bitterness froths and churns, blotting and marring the unperturbed and unaffected vision of Crumkane.

Still laughing, the Lady of the Lagoons bites out Her every word. "She didn't tell You? I was to have the Elixir. She made a lovely gift of a mask and thousands of years in a torture device for all My trust in Her."

Moonlight cracks through the butterflies surrounding the Silver Lady, ferocious and suddenly furious as the athame Na'reaim manifests in Her hand, there for Her to clench. "You *wanted* to take the Elixir?"

The Enchantress spares the silver display but one brief, baleful glance before turning Her full regard onto the crystal - onto Li-varili. "Please. Li, if You would know the reason I could not come sooner, look no further than that two-faced traitor. She was invited, and She--"

Li-varili interrupts as fury seethes from the crystal. "You invited HER to take the Elixir while I was bound beneath the Seas? Really?"

Moonlight pulsates, harsh and pale. "I did not drink."

"Not Me," Drocilla says, ignoring Lisaera as She clasps a hand over Her heart. "Fain did. She betrayed Us to the Others. And Li, She would have betrayed You as well."

Laughter ripples again, a cackling, the vicious taste of salt whipping across the sands. "Oh, how bitter it must have felt for the Betrayer to have been betrayed!"

The Enchantress lowers Her hand, a flash burning in Her sultry lavender gaze. "I am not on trial here."

"Unfortunately," mutters the Silver Goddess, folding Her youthful arms.

With a brief, sidelong glance for Lisaera, Drocilla inspects Her nails. "I have already paid for My convictions."

"Allegedly." The bitterness from the crystal rolls like waves over the sands, as plain as any of the Gods before you.

"As," Drocilla says with a passing glance at the radiant crystal, Her face the visage of perfect composure once more, "has Li-varili. Have We not grown beyond the need for vengeance? We have no pressing war to make snap judgments for."

"There is no snap judgment to make," the Empyreal says. Her voice, normally a balm to the senses, burns with Her firmness. "Return Her to My care, and forswear any interference."

Maylea's golden eyes turn to regard the crystal. They pierce, and for a moment, it feels as though She can see you, the mortal, though Her study is for the crystal's bearer.

"I will not consent to imprisonment again," Li-varili snarls.

The Even Bladed stares levelly at the crystal, stern and commanding. "You consented to abide by Our decision."

"I consented to NOTHING but My presence here." Like a tide, Her voice rises; Her vicious words fill the desert in washes of murky emotion. "I am no half-formed or mortal PET for You to order around."

"Give Her to the Glomdoring," Nocht whispers, the shadows stretching around Him like bold fingers against the empty desert. "We remember well Her actions, and We have experience with... rehabilitation."

The Goddess of Serenity, so quiet until now, steps forward immediately. "No. The Wyrd would only rot Her mind."

The Enchantress regards Nocht, cool. "She should not go anywhere She does not please." She turns to the crystal and stretches Her hand out. "Li, come back to Me."

Ripples of vague amusement roil beneath the surface of Li-varili's pervasive fury. It pulses outward, over and over, like the unyielding beating of a heart's pulse.

"We DO have precedence here," Lisaera says within Her shroud of cold moonlight. Her wide eyes narrow - still too big by far, but alert and intense. "If She would have been a Traitor, then We give Her a Traitor's treatment. She should be sent into the Void - far from where She can do further harm. Let Her be free - but free *there*."

Behind Her veil, the Empyreal shakes Her head. "I cannot agree. The stresses of the Void may irrevocably break Her."

Lisaera rounds Her attention onto the unflinching Hamadhi. "And She, by all accounts, broke the Seal of Justice in Her curse of Us."

The Goddess of Serenity's eyes are still upon the crystal, intent. "She must reap the fruits of Her hard-earned labours."

Unperturbed and wholly poised, Lantra answers Maylea with a swift, "Yes, but after She is healed."

The Enchantress shakes Her head as She languidly glides nearer to the crystal, Her white copper heels somehow eliciting a staccato even out of the desert. "She has no guarantee You would ever let Her free of Your care."

"And We have no guarantee the Enchantress and Her Bloodtide Coven would not meddle again," Lisaera says, eyeing Drocilla with ill-concealed hostility.

"She no longer wished to remain as She was: a prisoner trapped in no terms of Her own." The memory of a fragrance strikes your senses - vespertine blooms, as smoky and sweet as the Enchantress's every word. "She was well enough to make Her own choices, as She is now."

"I do not need You to speak for Me," sneers the Lady of the Lagoons, and an aggressive jerk of perspective brings the crystal nearer to Drocilla's side.

The Enchantress does not deign to look at the crystal, Her attention entirely upon the others.

The Sculptor of Waves regards Drocilla with the fullest weight of Her attention, a heavy and unyielding thing. "Of course You would coddle Her impatience."

"And Who among Us has never done something out of impatience?" Drocilla tilts Her head and gestures toward Li-varili with a steel-taloned hand, "Is impatience now a crime?"

Crumkane takes a long drag off a long-stemmed confectionery pipe and blows a crimson, sweetly-scented smoke ring into the air, where it slowly expands before dissipating.

"I've done nothing the rest of You haven't or wouldn't do." Li-varili snaps in short, harsh tones as She turns to focus fully on Drocilla, the Enchantress's image upon the sands sharpening with the intensity of the gaze. "Evidenced by My thousands of years of torture."

Her voice a lilting melody, the Enchantress says, "Any crimes She has committed have been paid for well in advance."

The Even Bladed turns Her sharp attention onto Drocilla. "Your crimes against Her do not excuse Her crimes against Us."

"Speaking of impatience," interrupts Crumkane as He taps out the contents of His pipe, "are We quite done yelling at One Another yet?"

"She cannot just go free," Maylea says, tucking Her hand into Her sari.

You sense a growing irritation through your connection the Silent Lord. Disgust swirls with growing anger beneath a calm surface.

With another slight shake of Her head, Lantra adds, "And She cannot face Her consequences without sound health."

"And what consequences would You have Us await while You invite danger to the Serenwilde thusly?" asks Lisaera, Her silver mooncloaks fluttering in their perch, agitated.

Little is visible of the Silent Lord, but His eyes pierce through the veil He wears as He watches the crystal. "She does not deserve Our mercies," He whispers.

Before further back and forth may continue, Ein interrupts, a glint shining in His eyes, "If I may. Should We not leave the decision in Her hands and hear Her will?"

With a laugh of disbelief, Li-varili sneers, "This is a farce of a trial."

"Oh, but You are not on trial." He pauses immediately before the crystal, a mischief gleaming in His eyes. "What You have done is irrefutable, or so I have heard."

Her voice dripping with sarcasm, Li-varili says, "Lucky Me, then. I am to choose My prison."

A quiet murmuring arises among the Elder Gods.

Even Lisaera appears to relent somewhat, Her eyes appraising as Her silver cloak of light thins. "I would be curious to know what Her choice is," She says, slowly.

The Empyreal faces Lisaera, a flicker of irritation revealed in the glimpse beyond Her veil; the Goddess's voice is equally soft and stern in its cold dissent. "She is in no state to make such a decision. Wait until Her mind is hale and whole."

The murmuring grows louder, the Gods talking indistinctly among Themselves.

Finally, sparing Lantra a brief glance as She passes, the Blessed Maiden draws nearer. Her head tilts impossibly to one side, staring at the crystal before Her with owl-like intensity as the chattering continues.

"If Lantra would have You healed," She finally says, lips curving downward, "and if I will not risk Your people allowing You to do as You are wont, We must know what You would choose."

"So. Choose." She leans closer, the athame Na'reaim clenched in Her grasp, belying the careful control She maintains over Her words. "Will You fully assent to Lantra's offer, or will You choose freedom in the Void?"

The susurrations die down, little more than grains of sand in the wind, as one by one, the Elders turn Their regard back to the Lady of the Lagoons.

"Li, you don't have to do this." Drocilla once more steps nearer, Her smoky words softening. "Say You will come with Me. They cannot touch You at My side."

"No," Li-varili says sharply. "Never again will You make Your choices for Me. Never again will ANY of You control Me."

Your pulse quickens with dread anticipation; the desert air grows humid and heady with the intoxicating spice of bromeliads emanating from the central crystal.