The Silver Sphinx

 

“Even a bebilith can chance its heart and mind.”

Cebulon, abbot of Conclave Fidelis

 

 

Third Guild Day of Savorus, 126 HR

Morânia entered the labyrinth through the gate opened by Nya, the others close behind her. The path led them into a corridor bordered on both sides by tall, green hedges. The leaves and rose blossoms here glowed with a glittering sparkle, almost radiating light, and at the edge of the grove, beautiful flowers grew in the grass that even Morânia had never seen before. They filled the labyrinth with an intense but pleasant scent. With every step they took along the living, green corridor, the chalice, the water in it and the gem began to glow more brightly.

“It's beautiful here ...” Morânia whispered.

Naghûl sighed a little. ”If only it wasn't a labyrinth ...”

The bal'aasi smiled. She knew that her husband didn't like puzzles, labyrinths or mazes. His Sensate curiosity and enthusiasm didn't include these elements.

“I like labyrinths," Lereia replied lightly, obviously elated by the wonderful surroundings.

They followed the path to its end, with Morânia, Naghûl and Lereia at the front, Sgillin and Jan in the middle with Abaia , who was very carefully carrying the sleeping fox-Ybdiel in the glass case. At the back walked Kiyoshi who, despite the idyllic surroundings, always looked around warily, like a soldier bringing up the rear. At the end of the corridor, the path split in two, and without hesitation, Morânia chose the left turning. They followed the path between the high hedges for a while, over soft grass, and occasionally yellow and blue butterflies fluttered by. Then the path turned right and led them into a small room, of course open to the sky, like the rest of the labyrinth, but otherwise surrounded by hedges like a room with solid walls. Here no roses grew on the hedge, but hundreds of purple hibiscus flowers. In the center of the open space stood a fountain with a stone dolphin rising from it. The water that flowed out of its mouth fell gently into the marble basin, which was supported by lion paws and feathered wings. While the others were still standing there, looking around, Sgillin walked purposefully to the fountain, scooped up a little water with his hand and drank it. Jana was already raising her hand in warning, but Morânia gestured for her to relax. She was sure that no harm would come to them here.

Sgillin smiled with pleasure when he had tasted the water. “Oh, this is something fine,” he declared. “Refreshing. And above all ... healing.” He looked at his hand. ”There was a scratch here a moment ago. I think I'll fill my flask. You should do the same, friends.”

Lereia didn't think twice, but went to the well and filled an empty bottle. Morânia recognized it: It had contained a healing potion that Lereia had used a few days ago at the inn to help the wounded elf. The bal'aasi herself also stepped up to the well and scooped up a little water with her hands to drink. She immediately felt invigorated and refreshed. Naghûl came over to do the same, but Kiyoshi and Jana stopped a few steps away and made no move to drink from the water.

“Don't be afraid,” Sgillin said to Kiyoshi. ”As Morânia said: There is no evil on this plane.”

The young soldier nodded gravely, but still didn't approach the fountain. Concerning Jana, Sgillin had probably decided not to even try. Abaia, who followed the group meekly and almost shyly, also stood a little way off, with the transformed deva in its claws, whom it carried as gently as a precious treasure. They looked around carefully, but since there was nothing else to discover in this room of the labyrinth except for the healing well, they left through the opening in the opposite hedge wall. Again, the path led them to a fork – this time Morânia turned right – and a little way straight ahead, then turned once to the left and once to the right.

Then Lereia suddenly stopped. “Do you hear that?” she asked, smiling.

The others paused, but had to answer in the negative. They didn't have the sharp ears of the weretigress, even Sgillin's good hearing was inferior to that of his companion. So Morânia nodded to the young woman to go ahead and follow the sounds that were only audible to her. Lereia led them to the left at the next fork, then along another corridor, and finally they were standing in a room formed by hedges again. Different flowers grew here as well, but this time countless white jasmine blossoms. In the middle of the open grassy area stood a bronze statue: a woman in a beautifully decorated dress, playing a mandolin, seemingly lost in her music. And now the others heard it too: the sounds Lereia had followed were clearly coming from this statue. Slowly, they gathered around the statue and listened to the soft music. It was a simple, soothing melody that brought peace and confidence to their hearts. Although Morânia felt calm and relaxed at the moment anyway, she was sure that the song would also be able to calm more agitated minds like those of Jana or Abaia.

Then, a gentle voice suddenly sounded behind them. “So we meet again.”

Surprised, she turned around. They had been so captivated by the statue's song that they hadn't noticed Nya step out from behind one of the hedges. The nymph smiled at them in greeting.

“Is this the first trial?” Jana asked outright.

“No, not yet,” the beautiful woman replied. “But I will give you the first piece of advice for your path to harmony and peace: the spark belongs to the deva. Give it back to him before he dies.”

“That's no advice,” Jana replied immediately, gesticulating angrily with her hands. ”That's ... an order!”

But Nya said nothing more and merged with the hedge again. She disappeared so quickly that it might have seemed as if she had only been a ghostly apparition. While the others were still looking at the spot in the hedge where she had vanished, some in surprise and some in thought, Jana looked upset and pointed accusingly at the thicket.

“She wants to lead us astray!” she cried. ”Didn't that sound to you like she wanted to get us to condemn Abaia?”

“Jana, could you please stop with the nonsense?” Naghûl replied, unusually fierce. ”She's not a goddess! The per outside is not a god. The lions are not gods. And she clearly said she had several pieces of advice for us. That was just one. So stop with this mistrust drivel!”

The sorceress crossed her arms in a disgruntled manner. “I'm just saying that I don't trust her. That's my right, isn't it?”

“Why don't you just say that you don't trust anyone?” Naghûl replied, annoyed. “Then we're clear on that.”

“That's not true,” Jana replied, now calmer. “I trust all of you except for Sgillin.”

“What?!” The half-elf's features briefly slipped. ”Why me?”

Without a word, the sorceress pointed to the place where he wore the Anarchists' amulet under his shirt. Morânia sighed, displeased that the unifying, calming effect of the magical song had been dispelled by this dispute. She was about to say something when Kiyoshi, who hadn't spoken a word since entering the labyrinth, intervened.

“May I ask you to postpone your quarrel until after the trials?” he said calmly but seriously. ”Only unity will help us here.”

“That's right,” Morânia agreed. “We should have good intentions in our hearts here, not discord. Otherwise we will fail.”

“I have no quarrel,” Naghûl replied, gradually regaining his composure. ”I just can't stand it anymore, this constant mistrust of good beings.”

Lereia nodded in agreement with his words, and Morânia also gave Jana a warning look.

The sorceress now actually seemed a bit embarrassed. “Sorry,” she replied with a sigh. ”The trust thing ... it's not always easy for me. Let's just keep walking and see what happens.”

Lereia smiled reassuringly. “Maybe the spark will return to the deva at the end,” she said confidently. “We don't know what to expect here. We will understand when the time comes.”

Morânia also gave Jana a conciliatory smile. ”Exactly. First of all, we have to find the trials.”

After they had been able to resolve the small dispute so quickly and calmly, to their relief, they left the room with the statue and followed another corridor. After several junctions and forks, they finally reached one in the middle of which stood the large statue of a winged lion. One half was black as onyx, but the feathered wing was white as alabaster. On the other side, it was exactly the opposite. The stone image, that bore such a striking likeness to Lumen and Skía, looked at them as they approached it from the hedge. But there was no music to be heard, as was at the statue of the woman, nor was there anything else to indicate that something special could be found here. They stopped and scrutinized the stone lion, while Jana left the group and carefully circled it once.

“Do you think the statue has a meaning?“ she asked the others.

“No idea,” Sgillin replied with a grin. “But I don't trust it.”

Morânia couldn't help but laugh, and Jana stuck out her tongue at the half-elf, but she was grinning too. The brief moment of amusement did them all good. For as beautiful as the labyrinth was, they were all a little tense due to the great - and still not entirely clear - task that lay ahead of them. Naghûl, a true Sensate, now approached the statue despite his dislike of labyrinths and puzzles and gently ran his hand over the smooth stone to feel its structure, temperature and texture. At that moment, the statue seemed to come to life for a second. It tilted its head slightly and nodded in the direction of the passage leading to the right. Then it froze again, as if nothing had happened. They looked at each other, understanding and not too surprised at this hint from a stone statue. They had experienced enough wondrous and unusual things in the planes not to worry about it. So they followed the right-hand passage, which after a while led them into another room formed by the hedges. In this room, blue wisteria grew in abundance, pouring over the hedges like a waterfall of blossoms. In the middle stood a pavilion made of light-colored stone and covered by a round dome, the color of which reflected that of the sky and the flowers. They approached and examined the small structure more closely, walking around it once to watch it from all sides. They noticed that it had one arched entrance on two sides and two on the other two sides.

“There are six arches,“ Lereia reflected. “There are six of us. Maybe we are supposed to enter? One through each arch?”

Morânia nodded in agreement. “It would be worth a try.” Her gaze fell on a round mosaic embedded in the grass in the center of the pavilion. It showed an eye with a sun for a pupil. “And Abaia in the middle here, perhaps?”

She looked at the bebilith, who then also moved slowly, almost hesitantly, towards the pavilion. Fortunately, it had shrunk considerably in the meantime, because even so, it could only just squeeze through one of the wider archways. It carefully placed the glass case with the fox-shaped deva in the center of the mosaic and then waited. The companions looked at each other, took another deep breath and spread out around the pavilion. Naghûl and Morânia entered on one double arched side, Lereia and Sgillin on the other. Kiyoshi and Jana used the slightly wider passages on the other two sides. And indeed, they seemed to be doing the right thing. After they had all stepped through the arches together and at the same time, the surroundings blurred before their eyes and they found themselves in a small, idyllic village. Morânia quickly let her gaze wander over the inhabitants and the houses and nodded to herself. Judging by the architecture and the people's clothing, they might be in the Outlands in Tir na Og. She quickly realized that they were in an observer role and could neither speak nor move. Then a scene began to play out before their eyes: In the doorway of one of the small houses, a silver light flashed and a portal opened through which the deva Ybdiel stepped. He looked around searchingly, apparently invisible, for the inhabitants did not seem to see him. Soon he approached a small wooden stage, which was only made of a few simple boards. There stood a young human man playing a lute and singing. Ybdiel stopped at the stage and listened to the music for a while, smiling. Then he went up, stood next to the bard, put a hand on his shoulder and closed his eyes. There was a brief flash, again invisible to all but Ybdiel and the secret observers, a light that passed from the deva to the human. The angel looked at the bard somewhat pained, then returned to the portal, activated it and disappeared. After this scene, the passage of time accelerated. The companions could watch how evening fell and then night. Most of the inhabitants went to bed, only the bard remained awake and played pensively on his lute. He did not notice that someone had approached the village: a beautiful woman. She stopped at the stage, listened to the music, smiled at the bard and began a conversation. Soon the two were strolling away arm in arm. As they walked away, the Chosen could recognize the woman's leathery wings and horns, while the bard seemed unaware of them. Then Ybdiel stood before the group again, in the humanoid form in which they had first encountered him in the Abyss. Morânia sensed that she could move again.

“Ybdiel?“ Lereia addressed the deva, obviously unsure whether he could hear her or whether this was still part of the vision. “What were you doing with the bard?”

He turned his gaze to her, apparently hearing her words. “I gave him my spark,” he replied.

“Did the succubus pursue you directly?” Naghûl asked. “Or was it a coincidence?”

“Until now, I thought it was a coincidence,” the angel replied. ”But I'm no longer sure ... Maybe I just wanted to believe that.”

Morânia looked at him seriously. “And she dragged the bard into the Abyss and there he was accidentally devoured by Abaia?” It pained her to have to use such direct words, to express her doubts about a heavenly being, a deva, so openly. But such a coincidence was more than unlikely and Ybdiel might be right: He had probably prettied up that story.

He looked at her, torn. “I had to give up the spark,” he said. “Did I have a choice?” It seemed as if he really meant the question.

“Forgive my ignorance, venerable kami-sama,” Kiyoshi replied earnestly. ”But couldn't you have left your spark with another kami of your kind?”

“Unfortunately not.“ Ybdiel shook his head. “Every angel can only carry one spark. I did what I had to do ... why does it feel wrong?” The look in his sapphire eyes was confused, seeking help.

“Because you have no control over it now or you're afraid of what might happen?” Lereia suggested.

The deva seemed to think about it for a while, then shook his head again. “No ... it's something else ...”

“Perhaps because you gave away the gift of your goddess?” Naghûl speculated.

“No, I had to give it away,” Ybdiel explained. ”I'm sure of it. My goddess even told me to do it herself.”

“Perhaps you chose the wrong one to carry it?“ Lereia asked cautiously.

“He had a good heart.” The angel's voice sounded firm, convinced, unwavering, before he continued, doubtful again. “How and where did I fail that it feels so wrong?”

Morânia had an idea why the deva had a guilty conscience, why he was struggling with his decision. But she suspected that Ybdiel would have to come to this realization himself. She thought for a moment, searching for the right words to gently steer him onto the right track. Finally, she phrased it as a question. “Did the bard know?”

Ybdiel shook his head, and now the spark of realization glowed in his bright blue eyes, mixed with terror and dismay.

“Perhaps you should have told him,“ Lereia suggested gently.

“Yes …” The deva looked at her, concerned. “Yes, I should have told him. And I should have protected him. The bard and the spark. I should have protected them both better ... shouldn't I?”

Kiyoshi nodded gravely. ”Yes.”

Ybdiel's wings dropped and he bowed his head. “I failed,” he said dejectedly. “I should have told the human. And I should have better protected something as valuable as my spark. I realize something important ... Even powerful beings of good are not always infallible.”

It pierced Morânia to the heart when she recognized his pain over his mistake. Yes, the standards for goodness were often high and even higher for those beings who embodied the purity of the heavens. And even they were not immune from going wrong. But the realization of this was a solid anchor that could reliably prevent an angel from falling, and this, in turn, gave her hope.

“You recognize the truth,” Jana stated, with a mixture of concern and encouragement.

The deva nodded slowly. “Yes, the truth ...” His voice grew firmer. “This is the truth: I have erred.”

Sgillin smiled encouragingly. “Nobody is infallible. Bad things just happen sometimes.”

Ybdiel nodded at him gratefully, apparently relieved by the group's understanding and the encouraging words. Then the world blurred before their eyes, the village faded and they found themselves back in the Labyrinth of Accord, all together in the middle of the pavilion. Ybdiel was again – or still – in the form of a snow fox and slumbered deeply in the glass case.

Morânia gently ran her fingertips over the golden borders of the magical container. “I think that was Ybdiel's test. He had to recognize the truth.”

Sgillin nodded. “How was that again? Truth, destruction and peace? I think that was the test of truth.”

As if in response to their deliberations, the nymph Nya emerged from one of the hedge walls, surrounded by the blue wisteria as if by a rain of blossoms. “You have passed the first trial,” she explained. “And I have another piece of advice for you: Abaia wants to be good. But without the spark, its cruel nature will gain the upper hand again. Let Abaia keep the spark.” Without waiting for a reply, she merged with the foliage again.

Naghûl gave Jana a meaningful look. “You see, she doesn't want to turn us against Abaia. She is simply presenting us with options.”

The sorceress just raised her hands in defense, but now seemed more placated and relaxed than when she had entered the labyrinth. They left the room with the pavilion and followed the living, green corridors again, turning right and then left until they came to another fork with a statue. This time, however, it was a large hand whose stone fingers protruded from the grass and were entwined with blooming wild roses. And this sculpture also came to life for a moment when they approached, to give them a hint about the next part of their journey. The index finger stretched out and pointed in the direction of the path they were supposed to take. It led them to a room again, but this time its walls were lavishly covered with laburnum. Another pavilion stood in the middle, this one also with six archways, but with a golden domed roof. In the center was a mosaic showing a white dove. A few glances and a general nod were enough for the companions to agree: this pavilion was probably to be entered in the same way as the previous one. Once more they left Abaia and Ybdiel in the center and stepped through the six archways. And indeed, the labyrinth faded before their eyes again – only this time they did not find themselves in such a pleasant environment as the idyllic village in Tir na Og. Instead, they stood on a wide plain full of dark ash, interrupted only by crevices in which glowing magma billowed. A bunch of manes had been rounded up here, with several vrocks apparently acting as their guards. The ugly, vulture-like demons ruthlessly chased the most miserable and lowest of the tanar'ri with whips and kicked them when they didn't shuffle forward fast enough. One of the vrocks, apparently bored, finally swung at a mane with his long claws and slit it down the middle. Another joined him, then another, and they cawed with laughter as they slaughtered the manes just for the fun of it. Morânia shuddered. The Abyss always made her hair stand on end and at the same time put her in an irritable mood, triggered by the hellish plane tickling her succubus heritage. A glance at her companions revealed that the spectacle disgusted them no less. As she had expected, this time it wasn't Ybdiel but Abaia who was with them. The bebilith, too, had turned its full attention to the vrocks and manes, but to Morânia's concern, it seemed less averse to the gruesome events. It rubbed its front legs against each other hungrily.

“Yes ...“ its telepathic voice sounded in their heads. “Killing ... spilling blood ...”

“Abaia, no!” Naghûl immediately replied energetically. “You didn't want that anymore!”

“Yes,” the bebilith replied. “Manes stupid ... kill manes ...”

Jana shook her head violently. “No, don't! Remember what you want to become!” she implored urgently.

But one of the vrocks now turned directly to the bebilith and clattered his claws. “Kill them!” he hissed at Abaia. “Maul them!”

Morânia felt her heartbeat accelerate as the bebilith actually started moving towards the manes. This must not be! The spark must not fail, now so close to the goal.

“Abaia, no, they are defenseless,” she pleaded with the fiend. ”If you kill them, you will never find your peace!”

Abaia stopped, but hesitated. “But ... Abaia always did this ... satisfying ...”

“Not doing it was also satisfying,” Sgillin replied earnestly. “Remember our journey, our time in Elysium.”

“They're just stupid manes!” the vrock now intervened again. ”Don't listen to these weaklings!”

“Peace outweighs the desire to kill,“ Lereia replied gently. “Be strong, Abaia, and don't give in to this urge.”

The bebilith seemed torn. “But ... why not?”

“It's wrong,” Jana declared, almost in tears of desperation. ”It's evil. You don't want to be evil anymore! Turn away from it and fight this urge within you. Free yourself from this compulsion!”

Lereia nodded in agreement. “Listen to your inner self, to your inner peace.”

“No!” the vrock croaked angrily. “You are a bebilith. You want to kill!”

“You are more than a bebilith,” Morânia replied. “You are Abaia, a being in your own right. You have the power to decide for yourself. To decide freely what you want to be.”

Abaia still seemed undecided, kept looking at the manes, but was apparently deterred from attacking them blindly by the urgent words of his companions.

The vrock now approached the group and hissed angrily at the bebilith. “Come on, you weakling! Tear them apart, you stupid thing!”

Kiyoshi's posture was extremely tense, which Morânia had noticed from the start, and his hitherto hardened expression now showed a slight hint of anger – an outburst of emotion for the soldier, who was always so controlled. “Do you want to obey someone who insults you?” he asked Abaia seriously. ”Who dishonors you and thinks you are stupid and weak?”

The bebilith twitched its mandibles, obviously torn. “Manes ...” It rubbed its claws against each other again.

“Abaia, no!” Jana implored. “It takes more strength not to kill the manes.”

“That's right,” Naghûl came to her aid. ”Don't choose the easy way, be truly strong!”

The bebilith now remained motionless and seemed to deliberate. The group held their breath, but did not press it further, knowing that this was its own test, that it had to come to the realization of choosing the path of good from within itself. Finally, after what seemed like an agonizingly long moment, Abaia turned away from the vrock. “Abaia ... does not want to kill ... not senselessly, not for its own pleasure.”

Kiyoshi nodded gravely. “That is wise.”

“Abaia, you are strong and you make us proud,” Jana said, now almost in tears with emotion. “You are absolutely right.”

The bebilith clicked its mandibles softly. ”Abaia finds ... peace.”

Naghûl gently stroked its carapaced head. “Peace, yes, you've earned that.”

And then, as before in the village, the surroundings began to fade again, they were leaving the hellish landscape behind them and found themselves in the flowering hedge maze. Jana and Naghûl seemed outright enraptured by Abaia's strength of will and encouraged it, and Morânia also felt that pleasant inner warmth of hope and confidence that always flowed through her when evil was turned to good. However, she noticed that Lereia looked a little troubled and stepped over to her.

“What's the matter? Are you worried about something?”

“Ybdiel's trial was that of truth and Abaia's that of peace,” Lereia explained. ”Does that mean that our trial is that of destruction? I'm a little afraid of that.”

Morânia put a hand on her arm to calm her. “I understand. But I don't think we have anything to worry about. This is Elysium, and nothing here will force us to do anything bad.”

Before Lereia could reply, they heard a rustling sound beside them. When they turned to the hedge, they saw Nya stepping out from among the laburnum.

“You have passed the second trial,” she said, smiling. ”So listen to the third piece of advice: Ybdiel gave his spark away. Perhaps he no longer deserves it – at least not all of it. Divide the spark between the two of them.” No sooner had she delivered this piece of advice than she merged back into the blossoming grove.

While the others were still pondering her words, Jana nodded slowly. “Splitting doesn't sound bad to me. Then both can live and Abaia can still remain good.”

“But wouldn't that make them both weaker?” Lereia objected doubtfully.

Sgillin nodded. ”Good question. But we don't know the other two pieces of advice yet. Let's move on, see what else we find, and listen to the last two clues.”

This approach seemed sensible to all of them, and so they left the room with the pavilion and followed the paths of the labyrinth again, which kept bending and forking. It was hard to say how long they wandered, it might have been minutes or an hour. But the surroundings were so peaceful and beautiful that they didn't mind just roaming the green corridors for a while. Finally, they reached another room, this time with a statue of a rising unicorn. To the right and left of the sculpture were two pedestals made of white marble with silver veins. As they approached the center of the room, the chalice in Morânias hand and the gemstone that Naghûl held suddenly glowed brightly. On closer inspection of the unicorn and the pedestals, they noticed that there was a kind of niche in both pedestals, one smaller and rounder, the other larger and more elongated.

Sgillin approached the sculpture group. “I think we have to position the chalice and gem there.”

“Yes, that could be.” Morânia nodded. “A sacred aura emanates from there.”

Just as her faction philosophy wanted, she did not hesitate for long, but approached the pedestal on the right and found that the niche in it was exactly suitable for the Chalice of Peace. She placed it inside, and Naghûl stepped to the left pedestal, placing the Gem of Harmony in the smaller opening. When chalice and jewel were positioned in the niches, the glow became so bright that they had to avert their gaze for a moment. Afterwards, both radiated in a holy light. A glance at her companions revealed to Morânia that it was even perceptible to those who were not actually able to perceive such energies.

“Now that's what I call an aura,“ Naghûl murmured, impressed.

“Beautiful …” Lereia said with a blissful smile.

They were still captivated by the radiance of the sacred objects when Nya emerged from behind the unicorn statue and placed a hand on the animal's neck. “You have prepared the Regalia of Accord,” she stated. ”Now hear the last two pieces of advice. The fourth: The spark must not be shared. Let deva and bebilith die so that the spark returns to its deity. She shall decide what happens to it. The fifth: Let both Ybdiel and Abaia perish, but use the spark to let something new arise and develop from it. So take the Regalia back and go to the center of the Labyrinth for the last trial.”

Without waiting for a question from the group, she merged with the hedge again and disappeared.

Jana crossed her arms. “I want to ... vigorously protest against giving the spark to the so-called goddess. Not with me!”

Morânia felt a sudden annoyance at the word so-called, but basically she couldn't blame Jana. She was merely following her faction's philosophy, just like every other member of a faction. And although she herself had no mistrust of Mishakal, the fourth piece of advice to let the deva and the fiend die was not the path she would have chosen either. The others also seemed thoughtful.

“Forgive my ignorance,” Kiyoshi said. “But couldn't we ask the deva's kami to send another spark? After all, Ybdiel only did what he was commanded to do, so it's her responsibility, isn't it?”

Morânia shook her head doubtfully. ”Your thought is good in itself and your question is justified. But since we've come this far without Ybdiel's goddess acting, I'm afraid we'll have to solve it by ourselves.”

“I wouldn't leave it to the gods either,” Sgillin stated soberly. At an affirmative nod from Jana and a frowning look from Morânia and Lereia, he raised his hands in defense. “But I didn't say that I mistrust them.”

“I am strictly against advice four in any case,” the sorceress added energetically.

“Let's go to the center first,” Naghûl suggested. ”Then we'll see what awaits us there.”

Morânia nodded in agreement and carefully took the Chalice of Peace, filled with the Waters of Serenity, out of the niche where she had left it before. Her husband stepped to the other pedestal and took the Gem of Harmony back. Then they continued in silence, now with a certain tension, since their own trial was so close. This time they didn't have to wander through the labyrinth for long. After only a few corridors, they reached a room again, but this one was much larger than the ones they had entered before. Flowering cherry and orange trees grew here, and in the center was a stone circle in which a blue-green energy vortex pulsated – possibly the heart of the Labyrinth and the source of its power. As they approached the center of the room and were only a few steps away from the glittering energy, Abaia suddenly sank to the ground unconscious. The still-asleep fox-shaped deva in the glass case slipped out of its claws, but landed gently next to it in the soft grass. While Jana and Naghûl immediately rushed to Abaia's side, Morânia opened the glass case and carefully took out Ybdiel. She gently laid him on the grass, between some white and blue wildflowers. As soon as she withdrew her hands from him, the spell that Rhys had cast over him in Sigil was broken and the deva returned to his original form: he was now an attractive young man with alabaster skin, snow-white hair and feathered wings, still clothed in the silvery-blue robe he had worn when they had first met in the Abyss. Then there was a brief flash and suddenly a golden orb of light floated between Abaia and Ybdiel, which – Morânia was sure – had to be the spark. Threads of radiant energy emanated from the sphere, to both the bebilith and the angel. Then one of the strands leading to Ybdiel tore ... Shortly afterwards, another one that connected the sphere to Abaia ... and the spark rose a little.

“No!” Jana exclaimed, sitting down in the grass next to Abaia and beginning to stroke its shell. “It must not have been in vain.”

“We'll succeed,” Naghûl encouraged her. ”We'll succeed somehow.”

But Morânia saw that a tear ran across his cheek as two more threads tore and the spark rose a little further. Sgillin and Kiyoshi ran towards the escaping spark and reached for it, but could not grasp the pure energy. Meanwhile, Morânia noticed that the Gem of Harmony was now pulsating in an incredibly bright light. Naghûl noticed this too, of course, and he opened the fist in which he held the jewel. At that same moment, the spark expanded, distorted and seemed to move towards the gem.

“Only the proper vessel can hold the spark ...” Morânia murmured, remembering the words of the phoenix. ”Naghûl, the gem! It might be able to capture the spark!”

Her husband's expression brightened when he understood, and he immediately held out his hand with the gem towards the spark. But the ball of light was hanging by only a few threads. Just as Naghûl approached it, the last threads tore and the spark raced upwards ... With a desperate exclamation, the tiefling jumped as high as he could and tried to catch the light with the jewel. Morânia held her breath for that one terrible second of uncertainty. She spread her wings, ready to take to the air – but the spark was moving so fast that she doubted she would be able to make it in time. But Naghûl did indeed manage to bring the gem close enough to the spark. The ball of light was drawn into the jewel, which then no longer shone quite so brightly, and more golden than reddish. The bal'aasi allowed herself a sigh of relief and could see that Lereia next to her also relaxed again. With a blissful and also somewhat proud smile, Naghûl covered the jewel protectively with both hands and pressed it briefly against his chest. Then they turned their attention back to the angel and the fiend. Abaia and Ybdiel were still unconscious, but clearly not lifeless. Both twitched and twisted as if they were having terrible dreams.

“They are suffering,” a voice sounded behind them, which they now recognized without doubt as Nya's. The nymph had apparently stepped out of one of the hedge walls again and was standing under one of the blossoming cherry trees. “At the moment, both of their souls are too agitated for any success,” she explained.

“How can we calm them?“ asked Sgillin, but Nya remained silent. Her regretful smile indicated that she was not allowed to provide any further help in resolving the situation.

“The chalice?” suggested Lereia. “By having them both drink from the chalice?”

Morânia nodded. ”A very good idea. I will try.”

She knelt down beside Ybdiel and carefully tried to pour some of the Waters of Serenity from the sacred vessel down his throat. Lereia helped her by gently holding the deva's head. They did indeed succeed in letting the water trickle into Ybdiel's slightly opened mouth. When the chalice was about half empty, Morânia put it down and looked at Abaia. She was a little unsure how to give the water to the spider-like creature, but the pointed mandibles seemed the most obvious way. After all, there had to be some kind of maw behind them. It took Morânia a lot of effort, as she had to admit to herself, to get so close to the bebilith. Despite everything they had experienced, despite her burning desire to help Abaia and despite the external change that now made it a somewhat more pleasant sight – despite all this, the paladin and the deva within her instinctively sensed wariness, even dislike for the fiend that Abaia still was. Naghûl, who knew her better than anyone else, seemed to understand immediately what was crossing her mind and gave her a questioning look. She could certainly have given the chalice to him and he would have taken care of it. But she felt she had to do it herself. It had always been her highest goal to convert or redeem evil rather than destroy it. She had to overcome feelings like the ones she had just experienced, she was aware of that. So she smiled gratefully at her husband, but shook her head gently and then approached Abaia. She held the goblet to its mandibles, and Jana, who was still sitting next to it, reached for its fangs without hesitation and pulled them apart a little. She didn't seem to have any reservations about touching the fiend, and Morânia didn't know whether she should find that admirable or worrying. But it wasn't the time to think about that, so she tried to pour the remaining Waters of Serenity into the opening between the mandibles with a steady hand. It seemed to work. The water ran into Abaia's maw until the goblet was completely empty and Morânia put it down. They watched the bebilith and the deva intently. To their relief, they didn't have to wait long to see an effect: Ybdiel and Abaia became calmer almost immediately. After a few minutes, both were lying there peacefully, but it was obvious that they were extremely weak.

Nya had come a little closer in the meantime. “Now you have to decide what to do with the spark,” she explained.

Kiyoshi took a step back. “This is a task for priests and scholars,” he said solemnly.

The others looked at each other thoughtfully, then Lereia spoke first. “I vote for option four, the goddess,” she said. “That would mean the destruction and sacrifice of both, although in the end both will still be alive.”

“Will they?” Naghûl objected. “Also, to sacrifice yourself requires a decision made of your own free will. We would simply impose the sacrifice on them.”

“But that was the advice, wasn't it?” Lereia raised her hands somewhat helplessly. “Someone will have to sacrifice something, but they will live if they pass the trials.”

Naghûl frowned indecisively and looked at Nya. “Please list all the possibilities again.”

The nymph nodded. “There are five paths. First: Give the spark to the deva. Second: Give the spark to the bebilith. Third: Divide the spark between them. Fourth: Let both die, so that the spark returns to its goddess. Fifth: Let both perish, but let something new arise from it.”

Morânia nodded to herself. Her choice had been made, but she decided to let the others speak first.

“Three or five,” Naghûl said. “Both or something new.”

Sgillin didn't hesitate. “The last option, right? That's what everyone has told us so far: the birth of a new being.”

Lereia, on the other hand, still seemed undecided. “But how do we create something new?”

Kiyoshi shrugged. “Like a smelter combines tin and copper to make bronze?” he suggested.

Lereia looked to Nya for help, but the nymph raised her hands regretfully, confirming what Morânia had already suspected: “You will see when you decide. Unfortunately, I can't say more. But above all, it is your decision that matters. You know the five paths and must now choose one.”

Sgillin looked at the others. ”I'm in favor of the fifth option.”

“They shall rise like a phoenix.” Naghûl nodded. “I agree with Sgillin.”

Lereia thought for a moment. “I had voted for option four earlier. But I think five is the better choice.”

“I see it differently.” Jana stood up and joined the group as well. ”Who knows what would happen then. In any case, both won't be the same as they are now. I vote for option three: splitting. If we give each one half of the spark, then both can continue to exist as they are now.”

“I'm concerned that half a spark won't be enough,” Morânia objected. ”Neither for a deva nor for a fiend to ascend. That's why I vote for option five.”

Now all eyes turned to Kiyoshi, who was the only one who hadn't yet spoken. “I'm just a simple ashigaru,” he objected. “Besides, the majority is in favor of five anyway.”

“Your opinion is still important,” Morânia insisted.

Although the young man always kept such an expressionless face, the bal'aasi now thought she saw a slight surprise in his eyes at this statement. But then he nodded curtly. “I am in favor of the rightful owner of the spark receiving it. The goddess.”

“So one vote for option three, one for four, and four votes for five,” Lereia stated. “So it's decided?”

Sgillin nodded. “Yes, I think it is.”

Kiyoshi took note of this, his expression now completely stoic again, seemingly not particularly affected by having been outvoted. Jana, on the other hand, folded her arms with a scowl. She was obviously not happy with the decision, but perhaps glad that the spark was at least not to be returned to the goddess.

Nya now turned to Naghûl. “You hold the gem,” she said. ”You have to do it. Decide for yourself, before your heart, and proclaim the decision. And it will happen as you decide. Just concentrate on it.”

Morânia, still holding the now empty chalice in her hands, looked expectantly at her husband. For him, the Sensate, it was of course an incredible gift to have such an experience. But she could see that it was also a rather overwhelming responsibility. He nodded slowly, seemed to think for a while, and then approached the bebilith and the deva again. He sat down on the grass between the two and carefully placed the gem in his lap. Then he took one of Abaia's long legs and held it with his right hand. With his left hand, he took Ybdiel's hand.

“I want them to fade away so that something new can be created,” he declared in a firm voice, but tears of emotion ran down his cheeks. Morânia understood him all too well; she too was in equal measure excited, moved and a little afraid that something could still go wrong. She quietly stepped up beside her husband and placed a hand on his shoulder in support. The jewel in Naghûl's lap now glowed brighter and brighter, radiating like a small sun. Then suddenly, with a clinking sound, it burst ... The spark emerged and floated over Naghûl. With wide eyes, the companions watched as it divided and spread out to both sides. Golden light twisted around Abaia as well as Ybdiel, and many bright threads connected the two. Morânia absently let go of Naghûl's shoulder and watched the event in awe. The light soon surrounded deva and bebilith like a cocoon. Naghûl instinctively pushed himself away from the two with his legs and released the grip on Abaias' leg and Ybdiel's hand. As he moved away, the fiend and the angel slid towards each other, as if magnetically attracted. The light embraced both, now forming a single weave. Then the cocoon of light burst, like the jewel before, in a dazzling radiance ... It was blinding, and Morânia had to avert her gaze for a moment. When she opened her eyes again, a being of touching beauty knelt before them on the ground, but alien and bizarre at the same time. She recognized Ybdiel's features in the humanoid body and the white wings, but also Abaia's influence: a chitin-like carapace covered parts of the body and the wings, some of the feathers were raven-black and a long, spiky tail rose behind the man's back, similar to that of a scorpion. His facial features still resembled those of Ybdiel, but his hair was now jet black and he possessed two large, curved horns. Surprised and bewildered, he looked at them.

 

 

While the others were still absorbing the unique experience and the moving spectacle, Sgillin was, as so often, quicker to sort out his feelings. He clapped his hands. “Ha!” he exclaimed with delight. ”Well then ... it was worth it.”

Naghûl took Morânia's hand and stood up slowly. “By all the gods of Elysium ...” he whispered, moved.

The new being, born of angel and fiend, raised the hands and examined them in wonder, turning them before his eyes as if seeing them for the first time. “I ... we remember ...” His voice sounded deeper and somewhat rougher than Ybdiel's.

“Abaia?” Lereia asked softly. ”Or ... Ybdiel?”

The man looked up and smiled. "Abaiel ... I believe that is our name.”

“Abaiel.” Jana nodded slowly, a certain inner conflict visible on her face.

Morânia sensed that her mind had now finally grasped what her heart had already realized: that they had succeeded. A warm feeling of joy and happiness flowed through her.

“You have created something new through destruction,” Abaiel explained slowly and in wonder, as if he couldn't quite grasp it himself yet. “We are Ybdiel, but we are also Abaia.” He examined the chitinous carapace covering his hands and forearms, then looked over his shoulder at both his wings and the tail ending in a venomous stinger. “I think ... we still have to get used to ourselves. But I thank you! You have done a lot to help us.”

Morânia noticed how he switched back and forth between pronouns without even seeming to notice. “What ... do you feel?” she asked gently.

He thought for a while, then smiled. “We feel ... peace. It will take a while for us to get used to it. And ... my heavenly siblings will need some time, too, I suppose.”

Naghûl took Morânia's hand and squeezed it briefly, then turned to Abaiel. ”Are you ... are you happy?”

“Yes.” He nodded affirmatively. “Yes, I am. We are glad that you chose the path that allows us both to continue to exist in this way.”

“Do you now have the consciousness of both?” Naghûl asked curiously. ”The memories? I find that hard to imagine.”

Abaiel smiled. “It is ... confusing, admittedly. The part of us that was Ybdiel will need time to come to terms with Abaia's memories. And the part of us that was Abaia will have to get used to Elysium. But we will manage.”

“What are your plans now?” Sgillin wanted to know.

The newborn being became a bit more serious. “Ybdiel was on a mission for his goddess. We ... I still feel obliged to fulfill this mission. It was about information on possible tanar'ri attacks on good aligned gate towns. Please forgive us for not being able to stay longer, but I have to report quickly what Ybdiel found out.”

“We understand,” Morânia replied. “Take care. I hope we will meet again.”

“I am sure we will,” Abaiel replied.

Then he spread his mighty wings and rose into the sky. They watched him until he disappeared between the clouds, each of them according to their nature and emotional state: Lereia and Morânia deeply moved by the miracle itself and happy about the triumph of good. Naghûl no less happy, but also in joyful excitement about this incredible experience. Sgillin was relaxed and content to have brought the matter to a good conclusion. Jana was happy about the rescue of the deva and the salvation of the fiend, but also sensed a touch of melancholy that Abaia, who had grown dear to her heart, was no longer there in this form. Kiyoshi, as usual, kept a stony expression - although Morânia could tell that the experience had touched even him. When she heard a rustling behind her, Morânia thought it was Nya, but the nymph had meanwhile disappeared silently and without a farewell greeting. Instead, two people emerged from behind the hedges that the bal'aasi remembered well. They were the paladin and the lupinal that they had met on the ship at the beginning of their journey in Elysium. They had introduced themselves as Sir Lorias and Lady Elyria, Morânia recalled. The others recognized them as well and looked astonished.

 

 

“Greetings,” the lupinal addressed them kindly. ”Please forgive our hasty departure on the ship. But we had to be sure.”

Lorias nodded. “That's right. But now it is certain: Those who bring the deva spark into the Labyrinth of Accord are the ones you seek. So it was said.”

“So you are the Keeper and the Proclaimer?” Lereia asked, confirming the assumption they had already had on the ship.

The knight bowed in her direction. “That is correct, my lady.”

“It was said that you have the knowledge of the entire Prophecy,” Morânia stated. “Is that the truth?”

“Yes, that's right,” Elyria confirmed. ”And it is our task to reveal this knowledge to you. But not here and now, but in Sigil, in the presence of your factols. We will meet there again. Soon.”

 

 

Lorias now turned to Naghûl. “And you, Seeker, will find us.”

“Yes ...” Morânia couldn't help but smirk as her husband frowned a bit overwhelmed. “However I'm going to do that ... But if you say so ...”

“A question preys on my mind,” Sgillin said. “What happens if a Chosen dies?”

Lereia laughed a little. “I think he wants to know whether we're indispensable.”

Elyria also seemed amused and briefly considered whether she should or was allowed to answer the question. Finally, she nodded. “If one of you dies, the gift passes to another.”

“Damn ...” the half-elf murmured.

Lorias laughed heartily. ”Damn? I'm relieved that the multiverse - or whoever is in charge here - has done all this in a more well-founded way than relying on a few fragile mortals like us, who can easily be gone forever. That would be risky.”

Morânia had to smile, too. “That's right. And I'm just as relieved that this isn't the case, I have to admit.”

As Naghûl opened his mouth to ask another question, Elyria raised her hand. ”It is not yet time. Meet us in Sigil, together with your factols, and we will explain everything. We will see you in the City of Doors. Soon.” Just like on the ship, Elyria took Lorias' hand and reached for the amulet around her neck. And just like back then, they both disappeared in a short, blue flash.

“Very well.” Naghûl sighed. ”In Sigil, then. However I'm supposed to find them ... And yes, this disappearing still annoys me. But because of Abaiel, I'm just way too happy right now to get upset about it.”

Morânia smiled. “That's good,” she said, pulling her husband into her arms to hold him very tightly and share this unique moment with him.

Once more they let their eyes wander to the horizon, where Abaiel had disappeared between the clouds. In the distance, the Oreb Hills stood out dark green against the azure sky. And then they saw it: A ray of flames shot up from the hills, upwards high into the clouds. There it transformed into a fiery comet, a ball of flames that then moved radiantly and brilliantly along the horizon. Morânia smiled blissfully: the phoenix, newly born from the ashes, on his first flight.

 

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played August 18, 2012