We are not so noble as we like to imagine.
With that thought came realization and acceptance that he had done everything, that he had defied the High Council and Tyr himself, because somehow, he had come to realize this truth long before then. Even as noble as their purposes might be, angels were imperfect, not without blame.
Their punishment of me-and of my companions-will be imperfect too, he lamented.
When a knock came at Tauran's door, it was much later in the day. The sound startled the angel out of his brooding. 'I cannot touch the portal,' he called, standing.
The door opened and Garin peered in. 'I am glad to see you up,' he said. 'May I enter?'
'Do I have a choice?' Tauran asked evenly. He was suddenly angry, indignant. You are no better than me, he thought, staring at the visitor. At the same time, he felt self-conscious, unsure of where to put his hands. 'Could I keep you out if I wished it?'
Garin's frown was fleeting. 'No, but I am no boor, Tauran. It is your room, and I am a visitor at the moment. Now, may I come in?'
Tauran motioned for the other angel to enter. He did so, shutting the door behind him. Tauran turned and sat on the bed once more.
'Now that you have recovered sufficiently, I will let the High Council know to summon you,' Garin said, turning and pacing. 'Or at least, what's left of it.'
'What does that mean?' Tauran asked, watching his guest. 'What has happened?'
'There was a schism,' Garin explained. 'The High Councilor and two others divorced themselves from it over the decision to pardon Eirwyn. Another councilor has vanished, thought to have lost her faith in the aftermath of Mystra's death. They are down to five, and they bicker constantly.'
'Over what?' Tauran did not like what he was hearing. Too much instability. Tyr had not yet found his footing again, the angel feared.
'Over how to deal with the waves of wild, uncontrollable magical backlash, over what to do about the demon incursions, over why Tyr seems uninterested in-' Garin snapped his mouth shut. 'Enough. I shouldn't be telling you this.'
'Why not?' Tauran asked, rising to his feet, feeling the old sense of duty and responsibility fill him once more. 'It's still me. I still care. Let me help.'
Garin stopped and stared at him. 'Why would you even suggest such a thing? You must account for your crimes against Tyr.'
'I know,' Tauran said, trying to keep his voice calm. Inside, he felt his heart flutter. Perhaps, he realized, a part of me hoped they might follow through with it. Foolish. 'But there is still much I could offer. Information, freely given. Not as part a pardon'-to dream of such is too much, he thought-'but because it's the right thing to do.'
Garin shook his head. 'That is not for me to decide,' he said. 'You must offer that to the High Council. I wouldn't hold out much hope, though. Opinion against you has hardened considerably. Everyone sees you as a traitor, Tauran.'
'And what of my companions?' Tauran asked. 'They are not bound by the same laws that I am.'
'True,' Garin replied. 'Though in this instance, it might be better for them if they were. They are all in similar circumstances, likely to be found guilty of conspiracy against the House. Only you and Kael stand much of a chance of light sentences, perhaps only banishment. For the half-fiend and the priest, the outcome is-'
'He is no priest,' Tauran said. 'The soul of Pharaun Mizzrym, drow wizard of Menzoberranzan, occupies that body.' I've got to make them understand! 'He did nothing against this House. They must set him free.'
'So he has claimed,' Garin replied. 'But the truth of it will come out at the hearing. For now, we must assume the worst.'
The worst, Tauran thought, despair filling him. I've brought this on all of them. It turns my stomach to think of facing my fate, but they do not deserve this. He let his gaze drop to the floor. 'So much pain I've caused,' he murmured.
The other angel took two steps until he was right before Tauran. 'These are grave times, my friend. You are in deep trouble. The entire House is in danger of dissolving. Tell me what happened. Maybe I can help. Where is Micus? What part did you play in Mystra's death? Help me help you.'
Tauran looked at the other angel. He understood all too well the celestial's perspective. In another time, that might have been him standing there, in Garin's place, pleading with someone-perhaps Aliisza-to work with him, to cooperate. But it felt so different to be on the other side, facing the recriminations. He chose his next words very carefully 'I will answer your questions, though it will make no difference. I do not regret my actions'-I don't!-'nor those of my companions. Not because I desired any devastating outcome, not because I wished ill upon the House, but because I do believe, in my heart, that we were trying our best.
'Everyone is fallible, Garin. Even gods. Unfortunately, too many of us can't see that until it's too late. So I suspect will be the case this time. If the House suffers as you describe, then punishing my guilt will not assuage that. The trouble runs much deeper, my friend. I understood that, even from the beginning, but no one-least of all Tyr-would listen. I fear that it is happening still. None of you will see the rightness of my actions until it is too late.'
'Such words will not help you when it comes time to face the High Council, Tauran.'
Tauran sighed. 'I never said I expected it to. I merely want to make you understand that I am content with my fate in this matter. I don't need you to save me. I stand by my decisions to defy the council.'
Garin's shoulders slumped. 'So be it,' he said. He turned away, toward the door. When he reached it, he stopped and turned back. 'You know, Micus always told me that he considered you one of the wisest, most dedicated friends he had. That was before, of course, but he said it often. I'm struggling now to see in you what he did. I want to, I really do. But it's difficult.'
With that, Garin pulled the door open and departed.
Tauran sat for a long time, staring at where Garin had been. He turned his many thoughts over and over in his mind.
It was dark when they came to get him.
A rush of fear crashed into Vhok. His knees went weak enough to buckle, and he sagged. He stared at the glossy black floor before him, feeling the intense heat rising from it. He was certain the baleful creature across the room intended his death, had only to realize Vhok was there before giving the command. Or striding across the floor and delivering the death blow himself.
Stand up, you fool, he thought. Do not cower. He is just another demon.
But a balor was not just another demon, and despite the many long years the cambion had spent in the company of lesser fiends, palpable terror drained the power from his limbs as he gazed upon the fearsome being looming before him.
'Get up!' snapped his guard, yanking Vhok by the shoulder to his feet. 'Do not make Lord Axithar come to you!'
The thought of displeasing the balor made Vhok convulse in fear and delivered a sudden, hidden reserve of strength into his body. The cambion scrambled up again and stumbled along, following his jailer deeper into the chamber.
As Vhok and his escort drew close, the balor turned its eyes toward him. 'You,' he said. His deep voice rumbled through the chamber, making the very air vibrate with its power. 'You are the one that traveled with the angel.'
Vhok swallowed once, afraid of admitting the truth, terrified of lying. He didn't trust his voice, so he nodded.
The balor frowned. 'And you have been to their plane? To the stinking heavens known as the House of the Triad?'
Vhok nodded again. 'Yes,' he gasped. 'I went there to deceive and steal from them.' And it was a big mistake, he thought, thinking of what he would look like, impaled within an alcove.
Lord Axithar smiled. 'Good,' he said. 'Tyr's 'glorious' domain is in chaos. I wish to take advantage of his vulnerabilities. You will tell me all you know of the place.'
