A Cause Worth Fighting For
Before departing Dunedrift, Aywin Qinfina entered Behzad’s room with what he believed was a revelation.
For most of his life, the Prophet had treated his visions as curses. He saw tragedies before they occurred, desperately attempted to prevent them, and watched fate bend itself around his every intervention. Even when he succeeded, the victories felt temporary. Another tragedy always took its place.
Dunedrift had shown him something different.
Aywin did not need to prevent every vision himself. He only needed to find someone powerful enough to change what he saw.
Behzad had healed an entire city with the Ring of Creation. Thirty-eight people who should have died survived because Behzad reached into the machinery of fate and refused to accept its answer. Aywin could identify the disasters coming for Rosenhall, and Behzad could possess the power to stop them.
Together, they could finally move the needle.
Aywin told Behzad that he believed he had found a true ally. The others meant well, but they did not understand war. They wanted revolution without casualties, liberation without sacrifice, and victory without ever having to decide who must bleed for it.
Behzad understood the cost.
For Aywin, that acknowledgment meant everything.
He confessed that Saedor had offered him a simple solution: surrender to the Taimavar, and the Emperor would die. Aywin had seriously considered it. After Dunedrift, after being condemned by the people he believed he was trying to protect, the prospect of ending the war without another battle felt increasingly attractive.
If Aywin rallied the people, would Fable fight beside him?
Or would she spend more time sympathizing with the enemy than resisting tyranny?
Behzad warned him that bargaining with the Blood Elves would be worse than bargaining with a devil. The Taimavar would not offer the Crown unless whatever they hoped to gain was greater.
The Prophet accepted that answer but admitted something far more personal: he had spent his entire life taking the easiest available path. He did not know if he was capable of winning the difficult way, especially while feeling that his friends had joined the opposition.
What did he have to show for everything he had sacrificed?
His fortune was gone. His Guildhall had burned. His rebellion had barely moved. He had spent an obscene amount of money creating a demiplane, and now the people for whom he believed he had made those sacrifices were questioning whether he deserved to lead them.
Behzad told him to pull himself together.
The Gala would place every major political figure in Rosenhall beneath one roof. They would make their mark there, with or without the others.
Aywin immediately carried that encouragement to its most horrifying conclusion.
If every member of the Lords’ Alliance attended the Gala, Behzad could simply kill all of them at once. With the Empire’s nobility destroyed, Lord Altassi might become the last claimant eligible to inherit the Crown.
That was not what Behzad had proposed.
However, he did not reject it.
Aywin gave Behzad a hat that had once belonged to Francis and asked him to keep it as a reminder that, whatever happened next, Behzad still possessed one ally.
It was a sincere gesture of trust from a man becoming increasingly convinced that compromise was merely cowardice spoken politely.
The Enemy in Dunedrift
Returning to his room, Nys now refused to call the Prophet anything except Aywin.
She apologized for how harshly she had reacted after the confrontation with Dunedrift’s guards. She had once worn a badge herself. Watching soldiers treated as expendable had forced her to relive her own murder at the hands of the Mincer and the institutional fallout that followed.
Aywin insisted that he had not killed anyone as part of a crazed power trip. Dunedrift was controlled by the Lords’ Alliance. He was a wanted revolutionary facing execution if captured, and he reacted to the information available to him.
How was he supposed to know the party had become “buddy-buddy with the enemy?”
Nys acknowledged that she had not properly considered his fear of being taken to the gallows. However, she wanted something different from their resistance. Dunedrift proved that ordinary people living beneath the Lords’ Alliance were not automatically their enemies. If the resistance protected those communities, it could gradually turn the Empire against the rulers exploiting it.
Aywin saw the opposite lesson.
If they continued wasting their resources on people who despised him, why were they fighting at all?
He had already offered Trinity an opportunity to return. He even hoped Fern’s attempt to reconcile them might eventually succeed. Perhaps, after the dragon was defeated and Trinity had time to calm down, Aywin could finally talk sense into him.
But the plan to resurrect Dunedrift’s guards was fantasy.
Diamonds were being rationed. Acquiring enough would consume money and political capital that the party desperately needed for the Gala. By the time they returned from the Charmed Cove, the bodies would have decomposed and been buried.
They did not care about those soldiers enough to preserve the bodies or transport them.
They cared about making themselves feel better.
Aywin believed Fern would have understood him. Fern had been organizing the reconciliation with Trinity, and once revived, he would surely support bringing the resistance back together.
First, however, they needed to reach the Charmed Cove without being arrested.
Nys warned Aywin that the Cove had been placed under lockdown during the Mincer’s Reign of Terror. If Saedor reported Fable to the city, the party could be identified before reaching the gates.
Aywin appeared surprised that there were gates involved at all.
He had vacationed in the Charmed Cove and still owned a condominium there. Why would anyone bother crossing the border normally when they could simply use a teleportation circle?
Nys had to explain that most homes did not possess teleportation circles.
This revelation genuinely shocked him.
When Nys expressed concern that things in the city might be worse than she remembered, Aywin assumed she was referring to the state of his condominium.
He had not visited in years. It was probably a wreck.
Nys was talking about the serial killer.
A wagon carrying refugees from Dunedrift had disappeared while traveling south. The Taimavar were attempting to enter the city despite being declared personae non gratae, and she feared they might disguise themselves among the refugees to pass through the checkpoint.
Aywin suspected the Taimavar wanted recognition from the House of Flags, which would grant them diplomatic protection. He then recalled how much money his father had saved by refusing to pay property taxes on their condo after receiving dignitary status.
Nys attempted to explain that these were not equivalent situations.
Aywin conceded that one was considerably more evil, but insisted that they operated through the same legal framework.
The exchange perfectly demonstrated Aywin’s relationship with normal society. He genuinely wants to overthrow a system he has never personally experienced from the bottom. Border checkpoints, municipal records, property taxes, and household teleportation circles all exist within his mind as minor inconveniences negotiated by wealthy people.
Magical Smuggling Experience
The following morning, Aywin approached Fable with a plan.
He could suppress the magical auras surrounding her and the party’s equipment for one day. If the guards attempted to scan them at the gates, nothing suspicious would appear.
Fable asked whether he was absolutely certain.
If the disguise failed, she would become public enemy number one. Her species could not be allowed to enter government records, especially while the Taimavar were actively searching for her.
Had Aywin ever used this spell before?
He assured her that he had.
He had regularly used it to smuggle magical items into Rosenhall City for his Guildhall.
Fable sighed.
“I should’ve figured.”
Behzad defended the practice. Adventurers required weapons to fight monsters.
Aywin agreed and fondly remembered his “kick-ass group of guys.”
Somehow, this did not make Fable feel safer.
Welcome to the Charmed Cove
The road into the Charmed Cove was buried beneath a line of carriages, wagons, merchants, travelers, and refugees awaiting inspection.
Every guard stationed at the gate wore full plate. During her three centuries of service, Nys had only seen the city mobilize equipment like that for ceremonial parades.
Signs warned visitors that a mandatory curfew would begin at sundown.
Others promised a reward of 10,000 gold pieces for information leading to the capture of the Mincer.
Fable once again asked Aywin whether his spell would withstand inspection.
He once again promised that it would.
Behzad introduced himself as Lord Altassi and mentioned that previous records might list him as having arrived from Moressley.
He was immediately “randomly selected” for additional screening.
The guards pulled the party’s carriage aside, searched their belongings, and scanned everyone for magical items. Each traveler received an eighteen-page customs declaration normally reserved for those suspected of welfare fraud or illegal commerce.
Nys asked whether citizens were expected to complete the same paperwork. She identified herself as a former member of the Charmed Cove Guard and provided her badge number.
The guard, Edward, recognized it.
He had heard about her.
Edward warned Nys to stay away from the High Lantern. Her death had destroyed Captain Neptune’s career. After the Mincer murdered Nys, the Counting House demoted Neptune and recalled retired Guard Captain Harold Hreda to lead the renewed investigation. Hreda had reportedly refused until the city threatened to revoke his pension and retroactively reduce his retirement rank.
Nys had been gone for one year.
In that time, her murder had become an institutional scar.
After a lukewarm attempt at persuasion and a clean magical scan, Edward waved the party through. He advised Behzad to secure a certified Scroll of Pedigree from the House of Flags and submit his customs paperwork within 10 days. Otherwise, every port under the Crown’s authority would continue treating his lordship as an elaborate story.
Fable admitted that she could not truthfully answer a single question on the form.
Aywin suggested lying.
Fable reminded him that this was one of the largest cities in the Empire. It possessed civil servants, archives, and public records capable of checking their answers.
Aywin remained unconcerned. Once they killed the Mincer, they would presumably receive a fortune, the key to the city, and perhaps a private island. Any irregularities in their customs forms would be forgiven after they secured the Duke’s favor.
Alternatively, by the time anyone discovered the discrepancies, they would already have left the city.
Fable explained that her species could not become part of the public record. If the information leaked, the Taimavar would find her.
Aywin suggested that Nys could identify which civil servants might accept a bribe or respond to intimidation.
Nys insisted that she had been gone for an entire year and that her contacts were probably useless.
Aywin, now exhausted, attempted to explain that one year was almost no time at all in politics or municipal government.
For once, he was probably correct.
Church Street
Beyond the gates stood the greatest city in the Sapest.
The Charmed Cove did not appear to be living beneath a reign of terror. Its paved sidewalks remained clean. Maintained carriage roads curved around gardens, statues, and fountains. Streetlamps lined districts filled with polished brick storefronts rather than open markets. College students passed bankers, sailors, merchants, clergy, visiting nobles, and contract laborers imported through the largest port in Rosenhall.
Church Street displayed the city at its most theatrical.
Grand cathedrals stood beside institutions of finance, culture, and government. Château Nightfeather rose beyond the avenue, surrounded by the vineyard responsible for the bottles found on the highest shelf of nearly every respectable tavern in the Empire.
The wealth was extraordinary.
So was the security.
The Cove remained beautiful because an enormous machine worked constantly to keep it that way, and because everything the city considered undesirable could be priced out, regulated away, or physically removed.
The party had arrived at dusk, leaving only two opportunities to explore before curfew.
Their first destination was not the High Lantern, the Counting House, or the Duke’s estate.
It was a construction company.
Overtime
Taurion Siannodel’s place of employment was preparing lumber for the Gala. Workers rushed to complete a stage and gazebo commissioned for Château Nightfeather while foremen pushed everyone toward another evening of overtime.
Nys recognized Nolan from company holiday parties.
The two caught up while the machinery continued around them. Nolan explained that Taurion had never stopped believing Nys would return. After her death, he had acquired a diamond in the hope that her original body might be restored.
The Congregation of Elves had pooled its resources and smuggled the gem out of Wolford despite the new rationing restrictions. Archbishop Novakri believed she might know a ritual capable of bringing Nys back as she had been.
After losing access to guard housing, Taurion and the children moved in with Nys’s parents. He had accepted every available hour of overtime since.
A foreman ordered Nolan back to work.
Nolan shouted back that unless the Duke intended to build his own gazebo, someone had to finish cutting the lumber.
The party continued toward the company sawmill.
Taurion saw Nys and immediately lifted her from the ground, spinning her in his arms.
He did not care where she had gone. He did not care what had happened. He wanted his wife back, and their children would be overjoyed to see her.
Nys was surprised that he had not known she was coming. She had sent a letter to her mother.
Taurion looked away.
Elaris probably had not told him because she did not want to watch his heart break again if Nys failed to appear.
Nys introduced the party as more than the travelers she had been hired to guide across the Sapest. They had been together for some time. She then admitted that she had learned about the diamond through Turbulence.
The entire Congregation had contributed to obtaining it. Taurion had built the last year of his life around the possibility that it could restore his wife.
Nys explained that being Shadar-kai was not an injury or magical condition. It was something imposed upon her by the Raven Queen. No mortal ritual could simply reverse it.
She could, however, still use the diamond.
Fable opened her Cloak of Protection.
Fern’s body rested inside.
Taurion slowly lowered Nys back to the ground.
“Oh,” he said. “You came back for the diamond… Not for me.”
Nys tried to explain that she had always intended to return. She had needed time to understand her new body and had grown tired of being treated as though she were broken after her resurrection.
Taurion told her to reach the church before it closed.
But first, he asked one final time if she was certain. If the party used the diamond on Fern, he would never be able to obtain another one.
Nys confirmed her decision.
She asked when Taurion would finish working. She wanted to walk home with him so they could speak privately, and perhaps he would not “kill her” for everything she had put him through.
Taurion immediately clarified to the entire party that he had never laid a hand on his wife. She had been a guard and could “lay his ass out” if he tried.
For a moment, everyone laughed.
Then the party carried Fern toward the Congregation of Elves.
The One Who Came Before
The Congregation was less a church than a palace shaped around two gods.
A private pond and stone bridge separated the cathedral from the surrounding city. Its gardens were large enough to function as a public park, and the marble structure dwarfed even the Sentinel Tower in Azmar.
Behzad wandered through the grounds and discovered a crypt built into the garden.
Its inscription honored the One Who Came Before.
Nys told him the story of an elf who had taught their people to survive in the desert and led them on a pilgrimage toward the Charmed Cove. The pilgrim died along the road but somehow returned rather than reincarnating. He guided the elves to prosperity before eventually disappearing from history.
The Congregation buried him within its garden, believing that one day he might rise again and lead them through another age of uncertainty.
The party entered while unknowingly carrying Corellon past the grave of someone who may have once carried the same burden.
Inside, rows of pews rested between stained-glass depictions of Corellon creating the elves and Sehanine blinding Gruumsh. Trees and hedges grew freely across the marble floor. Birds entered through an open dome while small animals wandered among the worshippers.
A reflecting pool stood at the center of the sanctuary.
Nys had been married there.
The cathedral divided around it. Corellon’s altar had been overtaken by living nature. Sehanine’s half resembled the night sky, positioned beneath a skylight used for stargazing.
Phase, the cathedral’s resident displacer beast, pressed against Nys’s legs.
Archbishop Novakri observed that the temple cat had clearly missed her and welcomed Nys home.
The Congregation had been waiting for her return. The diamond was hers, and Novakri was prepared to attempt the ritual whenever Nys was ready.
Nys explained why she had brought Fern.
She was certain.
What Day Is It?
Fern’s body was placed before Corellon’s altar.
Novakri first cast Speak with Dead to confirm that his soul had not reincarnated and to ask whether he consented to return.
Fern said yes.
Phase disappeared into the Astral Plane. Moments later, the displacer beast returned with the diamond held between its tendrils.
Novakri crushed the gem and mixed its dust with water from the reflecting pool. She drew Corellon’s holy symbol across Fern’s forehead and began the rite.
Fern shook.
His body convulsed as though it were drowning on dry land. Water poured from his mouth and lungs while something dragged him upward from the black ocean of Purgatory.
He coughed.
He screamed.
“WHAT DAY IS IT?”
Fern had returned.
Novakri allowed the party privacy but first asked Nys whether she wished to renew her vows with Taurion. The ceremony would mean a great deal to him.
Nys agreed.
They scheduled it for Ledger Day: a celebration of change, the closing of one season, and the beginning of another.
Then Fern told the party what had happened while he was dead.
Father
Fern explained that the Raven Queen had called him Father.
He had died and returned many times. Whenever he discovered that he was Corellon, he had chosen to bathe in the Styx, surrender his memories, and begin again rather than face the pain of what he had done.
This time, he had refused.
He had people waiting for him.
Aywin hastily placed his discarded holy symbol of Corellon around his neck.
He immediately accepted Fern’s story. This was wonderful news. If Corellon stood beside their resistance, the philosophical foundation of the Taimavar could collapse overnight.
Fern explained that he would need to recover his divinity and memories before convincing anyone.
Aywin blinked.
“But I believed you. Why wouldn’t they?”
Fern continued.
His death had not been fated. Behzad’s miracle in Dunedrift had disrupted the balance. Thirty-eight people who should have died were now alive, changing history with every breath. Fate would claim thirty-eight others in their place.
The Raven Queen had also warned him about the Requiem.
Aywin immediately rejected the gods’ conclusion. Behzad would never attempt something that insane. Only a “fucking insane idiot” would cast a ritual capable of ending the divine order and preventing souls from reaching the afterlife.
Behzad said nothing.
Fern described the alternatives the Raven Queen had offered. Requiem could be prevented by placing one of the Seven Tides beyond Behzad’s reach. The Scythe hidden within the Charmed Cove could be surrendered at the Raven Queen’s altar and concealed within the Shadowfell.
Behzad questioned why Fern trusted a goddess who intended to erase his miracle. If she killed another person for everyone he had saved, then his miracle meant nothing. This was not balance. It was spite.
The discussion began circling the same wound that had divided the party since Wolford.
Then Fern told Behzad plainly that, if he could not be turned away from madness, the Raven Queen had given them a way to stop him.
Behzad clenched his fist.
They needed those artifacts.
If Fern or anyone else attempted to hide them, Behzad would put them down.