Chapter Seven: Developments
House of Harps- 19 Nightal, 1369 DR
"And she makes no judgement, except that the music be beautiful and the harp-song true. Villainy and evil, things that corrupt the essence of song, she spurns, for they are damaging to the glory that makes music possible. But epics must be written, and for epics to be written there must be war. But righteous, musical war of romance and chivalry! Ideals and brilliance! This is what the Goddess Kathryn stands for!"
"Her likeness is an image of musical beauty, for it sings and hums like an epic itself. The sacrifices she made continually for the furthering of her songs and the protection of Amn and the Coast are an example to us all. Rejoice, and touch the harp with skill and confidence! Embrace the teachings of peaceful song!"
"Goddess of Harps, I rejoice in your name. I have seen your dreams, and know your will for me. I pray to you now, Harpist, hear me. Your gleaming harp rises in my mind's eye, and I can sense its energy and power. The music stirs through my soul, this I know in the depths of my being…"
"Hearken to the harps! Listen to the melodies of hope! Do not sacrifice your creativity for money and lust of the skin. Treat instead your mind like a deva of the highest order. Fight for your mind, and the freedom of your soul!"
Kathryn sat on her throne that touched every plane in the realms simultaneously, sensing each touch on a harp string, each plea for her intercession. The prayers were increasing in number every day.
Tomas had started to pray to her in the morning, in the afternoon- in the night. The actors of the playhouse were convinced that their patron, once mortal, would watch over their productions with a bountiful eye. It had been remarked more than once that the harps were played particularly well during performances under the Five Flagons, and for this reason, the actors prayed to Kathryn.
Nalia and the six servants she had chosen to be her messengers prayed too, though as always, the prayers Nalia offered were split between the Harpist, and the Goddess Mystra.
In Athkatla, sects had sprung up, directed by the shadowy hand of Tomas, whose connections in the thieves underground had gained him the nickname, Harpist of the Shadows. It was he who had arranged 'prophets' to traverse the streets, exhorting the citizens to worship the Lady of Harps.
Amnwater, with its prayer stone was now home to a decrepit bard, whose skill at playing music, one negligible had improved greatly. His faith now belonged to her as surely as any, and for that she was grateful. Many people in the small town were hearing the benefits of her patronage, and would be moved to pray.
With the increasing power given to her by the increasing prayers, Kathryn could now afford to grant prayers to her followers, which she did so generously. With proof of her existence and power available, the persuasion of people to worship her would be a lot easier.
She smiled at Eloise, whose playing had grown better in the past days or her patient tutelage. "All is well, child. Can you not feel it? The Realms are changing. Music will soon play an equal role with magic, and blood, and swords. And I will be the one to direct the plucking of the strings."
As she spoke though, she heard an urgent cry coming to her from distant Faerun, and a pain touched her heart.
* * *
"Kathryn, hear my plea! Grant me your might, grant me your strength! Aid me, Kathryn, aid me! The darkness grows to consume my song, and the harp falters in the deep! Death, to the enemies of harp! Embrace the lightning death of music, creature!"
Viconia lashed out with bright pink lightning, that thrummed with the notes of a war harp, loud, clear and unbroken. Kathryn moved her mind, until she stared through the eyes of the loyal drow. What she saw surprised her.
Three drow wizards stood, their legs set apart, chanting powerful magic.
Against them, Viconia stood alone.
Kathryn sensed her fear, and whispered to her, "Don't be afraid. The power of my music is within you. Move, with the grace of the harp."
And she sent her might coursing through the muscles of the drow cleric.
Viconia leaped forward, swinging the flail of the ages above her head. The flail struck one of the wizards, and he fell without a sound. Kathryn saw with her godly senses, the second wizard cast a death spell, which sizzled towards Viconia. A single note of music sent the magical energy fizzling away.
Again Viconia moved, and the second wizard died, his head falling in upon itself.
The third tried to teleport away with a simple spell, but Kathryn disrupted it with a discordant clash that made him stumble slightly. Viconia did not allow him to recover from the miscast spell, and ended his life with a simple swing of the flail.
Kathryn, from her place deep within the mind of the drow cleric, smiled. She could sense the gratitude of her servant, and from it, she took strength. Viconia was mouthing a prayer, "I give you my thanks, Harpist. Your power is great, your aid appreciated. I give you my eternal loyalty, my fr-"
A sharp, searing pain surged through Viconia's body, and, linked as she was, Kathryn too could feel the pain. Groaning in numb shock, the drow turned, and saw a tall man with gleaming eyes filled with hate and bloodlust.
The drow did not recognised her human attacker.
Kathryn recognised him immediately.
It was Cyric.
* * *
"No!"
Her cry tore through the heavens, filled with loss and pain. Viconia was dead. Her only agent amongst the drow, killed with contemptible ease by the might of Cyric. Kathryn stood to her feet, her lips curled in anger. Damn the god! What business had he to interfere in her worshippers?
The harps playing in the background rose to a deafening height, strengthened by the anger of the goddess that controlled their music. Kathryn screamed again, venting her frustration, and she dimly heard a string snap.
Cyric would pay for his actions.
But before she could make him pay, she needed support.
And for that support, she needed-
* * *
"-ady Mystra."
The Goddess of the Weave smiled at the bard-turned-god, and moved her hand graciously. A glowing seat made from pure magic appeared before her, and Kathryn sat upon it, manipulating it to suit her desires.
They sat in silence for a long time, until Kathryn said, "I wish your help, Mystra. I know you bear no love for Cyric. Your church is opposed to him, you are opposed to him. You may be aware, but moments ago, he killed my only priestess amongst the drow, a blow that pained me badly. I have no doubt that he will next move against my agents in Amn, namely Tomas, my high priest, or even Nalia de'Arnise and Imoen, both wizards whose prayers bring both me and yourself great influence. To lose them would be a blow not only to me, but also to you."
Mystra nodded. "Yes. It would. I have watched the development of Imoen and Nalia with great influence. From what I sense of their greatness, to lose them so early would be of grave consequence for the Realms. But what is it that you require, Kathryn? My power is not limitless. I cannot stand against Cyric for you."
The Harpist smiled. "I merely require the souls of two companions of mine that reside within these halls- Khalid, and Dynaheir. Both travelled with me, and I need their strength and friendship once again."
The Goddess of Magic smiled. "Khalid is yours. He played the harp on numerous occasions, and he was always more suited to the career of a bard than he was to the career of a fighter. Should he wish it, he may become one of your servants. But Dynaheir… I cannot relinquish her. Her magic is powerful, and she is rising high in the ranks of wizards here. Under no circumstances will I allow her to leave. Forgive me, Kathryn, but that is my will."
Kathryn sighed, "Very well. But Khalid, he is free to serve me?"
Mystra waved her hand, and a flash of bright light created a slashing noise. A portal opened, and through it, stepped Khalid, wearing fine robes of silver. When he walked, tiny stars followed in his footsteps.
He looked at Kathryn with eyes of pure blue, and grinned, "Kathryn… it has been a long time. Or so it seems to me. But it is strange. It is seeming to me that I have been here for millennia, yet I remember you face like it was yesterday… but I struggle to remember… it is an enigma that troubles me…"
Walking towards Khalid, Kathryn bowed. "Khalid, I have come to ask you something. Would you come with me to my House of Harps, to serve me loyally as you did while in your mortal days, or do you wish to remain with Lady Mystra, in these hallowed halls of magic? Whatever you decide, I will respect your wishes."
The dead Harper looked at Mystra, and then at Kathryn, with tears in his eyes. "If I speak the truth, then I would have to say I crave for your company once again, Kathryn. I was never a fighter, but I was never a mage either. The company of a bard would be much more to my liking. If, that is, the Lady Mystra approves?"
The Goddess laughed, "Of course I approve. Be happy, Khalid. Your work in my service was great, and the good you fostered was pleasing to me. May you continue to do good things in the service of Kathryn."
* * *
Throughout the heavens, Kathryn travelled, locating the souls of old companions and friends. Gorion, in the realm of Oghma, joined her without hesitation; eyes filled with respect for his ward- now a god. Garrick, butchered by gibberlings in the first days of her adventuring career, joined her, intent on supporting Lady Harp, whose instrument he had played during his time on Faerûn. Yoshimo, whose suffering had touched a chord in the soul of Ilmater, was allowed to join her ranks also.
Yet not only had the dead joined her.
The Solar, Gabriellus'anndris, who had guided Kathryn to godhood, answered her call, and marched behind her professing her loyalty to the Lady of Harps. Cespenar followed when Kathryn liberated the remnants of the pocket plane- Kathryn used her power to transform him from the lowly imp, into the figure of a particularly beautiful and blonde bard.
A shining patrol, they rode through the heavens on horses made of stars, until they returned to the House of Harps, which was slightly more crowded. Viconia joined Kathryn there, tearful at her defeat and failure. Kathryn comforted her for some time, until the drow was ready to accept her new role as an eternal servant of song.
But all these concerns vanished, when Kathryn sensed a shriek of disharmony slice through the heavens. She leaped into space and time and started soaring forward, trying to find the fading soul of Milil, Lord of All Song.