"Three trials remain. The Bright Moon, the Blinding Sun and the Room of Penance. Arowan and Anomen have successfully passed their initiation into the Twofold Trust. Now the rest of you must make your choice."
"I choose the Blinding Sun!" Jaheira declared. She suspected that the 'blinding' part may be literal and whatever the task entailed, it would need to be done sightless. There were, however, no blind monks groping their way about the temple so the damage would not be permanent.
"As do I," added Yoshimo in imitation of his leader.
"You are both wrong," Viconia said haughtily. "Your surface sun is a roasting evil thing, but the moon is weak and pitiful. I do not fear the moon."
"Two takers for the Blinding Sun and one for the Bright Moon," Hammerhelm nodded seriously, like a waiter jotting down table orders. "And you, Rasaad? Which of the three trials will you endure first?"
"I will face the Room of Penance," Rasaad said quietly. "The goddess knows I have a great deal to be repentant for."
A few feet away, Anomen smacked his bruised forehead in frustration. If there was one room that he was sure none of them should pick, it was the Room of Penance. Yet it was too late. The gong sounded and they were all committed to their respective trials.
"Since we started with the Room of Pain, let us continue in order of difficulty!" Hammerhelm decided. He was addressing an emptier room. Most of the monks had gone back to their duties. Whatever the remaining trials were, it appeared that they would be less spectacular to watch than the Room of Pain. "Rasaad! You have chosen the most challenging task and will go last. For now, LET THE ORDEAL OF THE BLINDING SUN COMMENCE!"
"I told you so," Arowan sighed.
The Blinding Sun was certainly worse than the Room of Pain, but this room had no viewing gallery. When first Yoshimo and then Jaheira stumbled out moaning and clutching their faces, they revealed that this was because it was flooded with unbearably bright light.
It was completely blinding, and even closing their eyes offered no relief from the burning glare. Placing their hands over their eyes helped a little, but here came the catch. While they were shielding their eyes, creatures were released into the room to attack them. Since they never saw them, they could not say exactly what they were, but fighting back meant using their hands. Using their hands meant moving them away from their eyes.
Because of the light, this was unendurably painful for more than a few seconds at a time. The pair had to do the trial separately, but each worked out alone that they had to remove some of their clothes to make a blindfold. All the while they were beaten by their assailants so that they ended up far more pummelled than Arowan and Anomen had been in the Room of Pain. Jaheira healed them on their way out, but their eyes were still red and raw.
"I have a bright white circle in the centre of my vision," Yoshimo told Arowan. "It follows me wherever I look. Arrgh, and such a headache!"
"Come here," she said, holding out her arms, and he stumbled next to her.
Even though they were both still hurting, it was comforting to feel the warmth of the other. Yoshimo closed his aching eyes and buried his face into her hair. She smelt, as always, of earth and coffee with a hint of the honey from which she made her shampoo. Arowan felt the stubble under his chin brush her nose. It was such a little thing, but it was intimate and lovely.
"Excellent!" declared Hammerhelm. "You have learnt to appreciate the value of darkness and passed your initiation test."
"Hooray," said Jaheira crabbily.
Four of the party were now slumped against the same wall. They were bruised and aching and completely out of both healing spells and potions. All except for Viconia, who was holding a few spells back for herself. She looked at the remaining doors and swallowed. If she were incapacitated in her coming trial nobody would be able to heal her.
Moreover, Hammerhelm had said that Rasaad's was the hardest trial of all. Who would heal him?
She looked over at the monk, staunch and obstinate. His huge muscular arms were folded and his handsome face twisted into a resolute scowl. If she wanted him she would have to see it through.
Well no matter! These novice rivvil torturers had nothing on the daily horrors of the Underdark. Whatever agonies they inflicted on her, there could be no doubt that she had endured worse in her life. She heard her name being called and with a defiant sneer at Hammerhelm, she strode confidently into the trial of the Bright Moon.
Her confidence was surely misjudged. For in this room there was no pain, no torturer. Only the truth.
"What do you suppose they're doing?" Anomen whispered in the viewing gallery after half an hour had slid by. "She's just sitting there!"
The monks had placed Viconia in a chair, with her arms and legs tied, and left her there. What she could feel, but the others could not see, was a shade trapped beneath the seat. The spirit had been slowly leeching her energy for the past thirty minutes. Finally a trap door opened and the shade was wheeled away, leaving her drained and exhausted. There was no hope of casting spells now, no possible way to defend herself from whatever was coming.
A tall, slender man in plain grey robes walked into the room. They could not see his face, but he surveyed Viconia's for a long time.
"So… this is the one," he pondered. "Viconia DeVir? I have waited a long time to meet you."
"To meet me?" she asked, flinching as far away from him as her bonds would allow.
Suddenly Firkraag's warning seemed to ring in their ears. Alorgoth knew that Shar's favour had fallen upon another. He thought that he ought to be the Chosen of all Faiths and not Viconia. Panic rippled through the party and almost at the same time they ran for the door, only to see Brother Hammerhelm's disappearing face as it closed. A sliding of bolts and the chink of metal keys told them it had been locked from the other side.
"Kick it down!" Jaheira ordered.
Rasaad tried, kicking every part of the door he could reach, but succeeded only in tiring himself. Yoshimo scoured the surface but found that on this side of the door there were no screws to loosen nor locks to pick. Dispel magic from Anomen had no effect, and the door seemed impervious to the ravages of Jaheira's vines.
The monk returned to the viewing window and beat it savagely, trying to get out that way instead. The glass refused to yield, not to him nor anything else they tried.
"Alorgoth!" Rasaad bellowed. "Come up here and face me you coward!"
"They can't hear you," said Yoshimo. "The viewing galleries are silenced to the outside. Arowan could not hear a word I was calling to her."
Rasaad slammed both palms flat on the glass, watching helplessly. The cloaked man was watching her like a cat with a cornered mouse.
"What do you want with me?" Viconia asked, defiantly.
"The truth," the man replied. "Secrets. You have many secrets Viconia. I would know them all."
Viconia scoffed and flicked back her head. Red eyes blazed out defiantly like a pair of dying stars.
"I have already lived more than an entire human lifetime, most of those years in Menzoberranzan," she replied. "My people are legendary for our backstabbing and intrigue. What shall I tell you? That I lost count of how many surfacers I sacrificed to the Spider Queen? That I had four husbands and slaughtered them all? Or would you like to know where House DeVir hid the petty cash box?"
"What about how you came to leave the Underdark? Let us start there."
Viconia stiffened her jaw and told him. About the baby she had been unwilling to sacrifice, and Lolth's resulting wrath. Her brother's doomed attempt to defend her and the fall of House DeVir. How she fled to the surface and was rescued by a merchant caravan, in exchange for pleasing its master. Alorgoth pressed her further and, her resistance weakened by the shades, she told him more.
Rasaad already knew much of this, and about her next story. Of the farm she had tried to settle on near Beregost and how her neighbours had discovered her identity, abused her for sport and buried her alive. She had taken her revenge, but for that the Flaming Fist began hunting her down. She had been fleeing from them when she ran into Jaheira's party. Rasaad knew it, but to the others it was news.
"She never told me any of this," Jaheira said quietly.
"Me neither," Arowan said. "Perhaps she was afraid to appear weak."
But the ranger wasn't sure that it changed anything. If they looked upon Viconia with more sympathy than before, it did not alter the fact that she had killed a lot of people. The Sharran had behaved with pointless malice toward Arowan. This was despite the fact that for a very long time the Ilmatari had bent over backward to help her, ignoring the threats and the spitefulness.
"Yes, yes I believe that I am starting to get the measure of you," the robed man pondered. "How curious. I had assumed that to appease both good and evil, the gods would choose a champion who was neither. A neutral alignment if you like. Instead it appears that they have tried to have both. What a contradiction you are, DeVir. You will hunt your own husbands for sport and kill without remorse or pity, and yet you were prepared to lose everything for the sake of one baby who was doomed regardless. Viconia Devir. Not neutral at all but good and evil. Both."
"I am the Servant of all Faiths. Is this what you desire to hear, heretic?"
"That doesn't count as a secret, I knew that already," he replied, sounding almost bored. "I was waiting at the bottom of the mountain when your friends from the Sun Soul happened by. Treya, I believe her name was? She told me all about you. She gave me lots of secrets before the end."
"ALORGOTH!" Rasaad screamed, smashing his fists into the window. Below them, the robed man showed no signs of having heard.
"And now, DeVir, one more secret," he whispered. "You know the one I want. Nice and loud, so that your followers can hear you."
Humiliation. As a drow she was no stranger to its use as a weapon. Viconia struggled against her bonds but it was useless. The shade had sapped every ounce of strength from her and though she was uninjured, she felt as weak as a kitten. There was no other way out, no other way to pass her trial.
"I love him," she said, hanging her head in surrender. She saw no sense in fighting this. One way or another Collus Darathon meant to have it out of her. Better to say it quickly, like ripping off a bandage.
"Pardon?" the robed man asked.
"I am in love," Viconia admitted, loudly and painfully, "With Rasaad yn Bashir."
The barriers that Rasaad had been so carefully building to protect his heart came crashing down in an instant. Not only was she capable of love, but she had followed him here out of it, despite not wanting to. Now she was suffering and in peril, all because of him. He longed to pick her up, carry her down from the mountain and take her somewhere safe to protect her. Suddenly, avenging his brother didn't seem so important as it had moments ago.
"Really?" the robed interrogator asked. He seemed genuinely taken aback. "The confession I was looking for is that you have no idea what being the Servant of all Faiths means, you are unworthy to serve Shar and you are leading your followers around blind. But I will accept your answer as well. Congratulations, you have passed the trial of the Bright Moon. Farewell DeVir. I feel certain that we will see each other again… very soon."
He left the room, and Viconia left after him. Any hope Rasaad had of chasing him down was dashed, for Hammerhelm gave the man a comfortable twenty minute head start, before opening the door to the viewing gallery and letting them out.
Outside the gloom was growing darker still. A distant orange glow beyond the shadow of the mountain suggested that sunset was approaching. Viconia stood, staring outside. Her expression was one of studied unconcern, but her redder than usual eyes and puffy lips told a different story.
"Viconia, I-" Rasaad began, but he was pulled away immediately.
"Come on lad, you have to complete your trial before the sun goes down," Hammerhelm insisted. "This way to the Room of Penance."
"That man!" Rasaad spluttered. "That man was-"
"Collus Darathon?" Hammerhelm said. He spoke the name with such awe and reverence that even Rasaad could tell it would be futile to warn him. "Indeed. We were not expecting to be honoured by his presence, but he reached the temple an hour ago demanding to know whether Viconia had taken her test yet."
Rasaad thought of poor Treya and the other Sun Soul monks, carrying their leader's body off the mountain and running into Alorgoth. If the Dark Moon's reputation was anything to go by, Sixscar had been the most fortunate of the Tears of Selune to die quickly by Viconia's hand. He did not blame Treya for betraying the identity of the Servant of all Faiths. After what he had seen him do to Gamaz, he was sure that Alorgoth could make anyone tell him anything.
"Will Collus also supervise my trial?" Rasaad demanded.
"No, I will take yours," Hammerhelm said. "The process here is simple enough. To become part of the Trust, the petitioner must prove their loyalty."
"How?" Rasaad asked warily.
"You will be asked to reveal a wrongdoing. A crime against the Twofold Trust."
"With respect Hammerhelm," Rasaad said, "I have not been here long enough to have committed any wrongdoings against the Trust."
"The wrongdoing…"
Hammerhelm paused, and for the first time the dwarf appeared genuinely unsettled. A deep frown line appeared between his eyes and he stroked the ghost of his beard in thin air beneath his shaven chin.
"The wrongdoing need not be yours," Hammerhelm said. "The goddess smiles twice on those who expose her enemies."
Rasaad baulked. He wished fervently that he had listened to Arowan and opted for the Room of Pain. Which was ironic, because everyone else was wishing they'd chosen the Room of Penitence. Right now, none of the party would have any qualms whatsoever about claiming they'd seen Rasaad urinating into the temple moat and letting him take the consequences.
"I will not dishonour myself by betraying those I would call brother," Rasaad replied quietly. "I cannot do this."
There was a collective gasp. The others could not believe their ears. After what they had all just endured for him, it was inconceivable that he should throw in the towel during his own trial.
"You son of a bitch!" Arowan cried, still massaging her bruised jaw. Anomen, who did not have enough spells left to properly heal his cracked ribs was scarcely less livid. Rasaad regarded his party, all of whom were either injured or humiliated. Viconia could not even bring herself to look at him.
"I have reconsidered," he said. "Let us begin the trial."
He went into the room and the door snapped shut fast. There was no viewing gallery. Apparently Collus wanted their grassing trial to be anonymous. Presumably this was how they got the best secrets.
Back in the main temple Arowan turned to Viconia and started clapping sarcastically.
"Such gratitude for everything we've just suffered for him. Warms your heart doesn't it?" she asked acidly. "Aren't you glad you made us bring him back into the party?"
For once Viconia had nothing to say. Arowan shot a disgusted look at the door Rasaad had disappeared through.
"We can be battered to within an inch of our lives, but gods forbid he get a stain on his precious honour. 'I will not dishonour myself by betraying those I would call brother.' To hells with this." Arowan growled angrily. "I'm done! I'm out!"
The ranger hauled herself to her feet in a row with Yoshimo and Anomen. The three had linked arms and appeared to be propping each other up. Jaheira rose to her feet too, leaning heavily on her staff.
"Come on Viconia, even you're better than this," the druid said gently.
Viconia shook her head mutely. Everyone else made their way outside into the grounds. She alone stayed to wait while the monk completed his trial. Growing up in a society where 'vulnerable' and 'corpse' were synonymous terms, the one thing she never wanted to feel was weak. Yet she did now, and not just because of the shade.
She was all alone in the temple. Everyone else was shut in one of the rooms or making the most of the grounds before the last light failed. After a while, she retreated into the safety of Shar's shadows and began to cry.
In the Underdark to advertise weakness was to invite death. So, like Arowan, when she cried she did so in complete silence. It was one of the very few things the two women had in common.
Meanwhile, Rasaad had found a sin to report. It was the most benign and minor thing he could come up with. It was also the only thing he could report, for he had only been there a few hours and had seen no genuine misdemeanours amongst the followers of the Trust. With the exception of the woman they had met coming up the mountain, who was fleeing the Room of Pain. He had a horrible suspicion that, like Treya, she had been intercepted at the foot of the mountain and put to death by Alorgoth.
"Brother Kelner offered food to supplicants before their initiation," Rasaad reported. He hoped that this would be accepted, because he was not sure what he would say if it wasn't. Anomen's blasphemy about Shar and Selune licking his rear end was next on his list, but he was hoping it would not come to that.
Fortunately, Hammerhelm unquestioningly accepted this non-confession. To Rasaad's astonishment, the monk opened the door and let him back into the temple, congratulating him on a successful initiation. His party had gone, but he caught sight of Viconia hovering beneath the stairs and walked toward her. He could not believe that he had gotten off so lightly. The hardest challenge? These heretics were insane to a man.
Behind him the gong rang out ominously.
The four bruisers who had carried out Arowan and Anomen's challenge emerged from their rooms on the upper floors. They cast their eyes smugly over the balcony, then filed downstairs to present themselves before Hammerhelm.
"Brothers," the dwarf said stiffly. "Bring Brother Kelner to the Room of Pain."
"What?" Rasaad cried, appalled. "No! He has done nothing wrong!"
"He has sinned against the Twofold, Rasaad," Hammerhelm reminded him. "You said so yourself."
Ignoring the younger monk's protests, the four hardmen strode out of the hall and in the direction of the kitchens. A delicious smell of butter and baking bread wafted into the room. Moments later they were back, hauling the petrified monk under his arms.
"Brother Kelner, your sins against the Twofold goddess have been revealed by your own brothers! How do you plead?"
"G- guilty!" Brother Kelner whimpered. "But, erm, might it please the Twofold to reveal what I am guilty of? That I might avoid repeating my misdemeanour."
"You offered sustenance to the uninitiated!" Hammerhelm condemned him, though half-heartedly so. "Take him to the Room of Pain. Seven rounds should suffice."
"No! You cannot do this!" cried Rasaad. "This is madness brother! The punishment so far outweighs the crime!"
"There are only two possible punishments for sins against the Twofold. Beating or death," declared Hammerhelm. "You will be eligible for both if you do not hold your tongue."
"Then, I beg you, release Kelner and let me confess a crime of my own," Rasaad pleaded, resolving to make something up. "Punish me instead."
"Next time you may choose that option," replied the dwarf, just a shade reproachfully. "But for now, the trial is completed. Collus Darathon teachers that you have done your brother a great service. If Kelner survives he will be strengthened in his devotion to the Twofold."
Rasaad buried his head in his hands and stumbled to Viconia, utterly defeated. They huddled together in the shadows, waiting for the inevitable screaming from the Room of Pain. Outside the window, what dim light there was vanished.
"There was a time when I preferred the night," he said desperately. "I felt the Moonmaiden watching over me. Now I do not even have that. My brother is gone, my former friends detest me. I am utterly alone."
"Pathetic, whining male!" Viconia crooned. The tone belied the words and she was petting his shaven head in a way that was as comforting as she knew how to be. "I am still here."
"Do you mean that?" he asked.
"I do. Though it makes me an even greater fool than you are," she replied cupping his face. "I will never turn against you."
"You do not know what you mean to me," he whispered, holding her silver head against his chest. "When all the world has turned on me, I can rely on you and you alone."
Rasaad pulled her closer, closing his eyes and losing himself to the feel of her mouth on his. Her breath fluttered warm and quick on his cheek.
A long agonized wail erupted from the Room of Pain. They broke apart, clinging to each other in fear. It went on and on, and when it subsided it was only to give way to Brother Kelner's sobs.
"What have I come to Viconia?" he cried desolately, "And where am I going?"
She looked up into his intense dark eyes, tracing her fingers across the dark coils of his tattoos. He had never seen her looking like this. Melancholy, unguarded and open. She smiled at him. Not her usual cruel sneer, but a sad half-smile that reached all the way to her eyes.
"None of us can know for sure where we are going," she said. "And maybe that is for the best. The gods may have put us on this path, but I did not need Lolth to tell me that they didn't do it out of kindness. I fear for the future Rasaad. I try to carry on but when I stop to think about it, the terror grips me to my core."
Rasaad nodded, and stroked a long strand of hair back from her face.
"I agree," he told her gently, "But whatever path I must walk, I can at least thank the gods that I walk alongside you. I love you Viconia, more than words can describe. I only wish I hadn't fought it for so long."
Another protracted moan rang out from the Room of Pain, and brought their conversation to an end. Rasaad could not bring himself to walk away. It was all his fault, and he owed it to the poor man to listen to it. As the minutes ticked away, Viconia stayed with him, just as she had sworn she would.
