Twenty Two: Trial of a Soul

The Courthouse, 12 Hammer, 1370 DR

 The gods had, at Kathryn's behest, used their power to create a place in the heavens, which could be used to hold every single deity of the Realms, along with witnesses and a jury… A great fortress of energy, filled with the unified power of the gods now floated through Realmspace, and slowly, the gods gathered.

 Already there was Loviatar, the Mistress of Pain, standing on one side of the fortress, and Helm God of Guardians on the other. Kathryn stood beside Helm, her interest seemingly fixed on the harp she held in her hands.

 In the centre of the fortress, stood Tyr, God of Justice, who took turns to stare at every new arrival into the godly courthouse. Lady Mystra entered, shortly followed by Kelemvor, with his silver mask. They stood a little away from Loviatar, Helm and Kathryn, and waited for the trial to start.

 More gods arrived.

 Umberlee, hand in hand with Talos…

 Chauntea, deep in a discussion with Silvanus…

 Cyric strode in alone, brimming with power and foreboding. The Lord of Strife walked towards Loviatar, and stood beside her. Kathryn frowned. So it would be Cyric defending the Mistress of Pain, and Kathryn prosecuting… how fitting.

 They waited until every god was present- the glittering assemblage of gods decked in all their great finery, and shining with individual power. All was silent, until Tyr boomed, 'Let justice be done this day, in the name of Ao… I call the jury forth.'

 Twelve copies of Tyr appeared in the jury, all exactly the same. The God of Justice shouted, 'Know that I will be fair and just, for to go against justice would be to destroy my own existence… let the trial proceed. Kathryn, Goddess of Song and Harps, call forth your first witness…'

 Kathryn walked forward, and said, 'I call Kelemvor, God of the Dead.'

 The silver-masked god strode forward, and stood in the space reserved for the witness. Kathryn bowed respectfully, 'It is nice to see you again, Lord Death. Please, be seated, I would not want you to feel uncomfortable in the presence of almighty justice.'

 Cyric said, 'Objection. This has no relevance to the trial.'

 Rolling her eyes, Kathryn said, 'I am merely letting the witness settle.'

 Tyr said, 'Continue, Kathryn, with the substance of your interrogation.'

 The Goddess of Song smiled at Tyr, and bowed. 'Of course. Now, Kelemvor. I understand that when a soul enters your realm, it is brought before you and judged. While it is judged, you see through its eyes, and you see every action that defined the life of that soul. Is this true?'

 Kelemvor said, 'Yes.'

 Kathryn nodded, 'And is it also true, that the soul of Wessallen, Prelate of Helm, was brought before you three days ago, for you to judge?'

 Kelemvor said, 'Yes. It is difficult, which is one of the reasons why this trial is taking place. At the end, I had to obey the letter of the law, and send him to Loviatar, the Goddess that he called upon at the end of his life, and again on the Fugue Plain.'

 She paused for a moment, before asking, 'Is it true that this Wessallen lived fifty-four years, and that each one of those years was spent under the protection of Helm? Is it true that he risked his life countless times to eradicate the enemies of Helm from the Realms? Is it true that as Prelate of the Most Radiant Heart, he could be said to be the most committed of Helm's servants?'

 The God of the Dead said, 'Yes. All that is true. I saw it.'

 Kathryn nodded. 'Good. So do you not find it utterly ridiculous, and a violation to the laws of faith in the universe, that because of one enchantment placed upon this soul, he is kept forever from the God he truly serves?'

 Again, the God of the Dead answered, 'Yes. It is indeed a violation most grave.'

 Kathryn smiled. 'No more questions, Lord Justice.'

 And she sat down, her will forging a seat of pink, which she settled in, amusing herself by playing with locks of her white hair. As she played, Cyric stood, and walked towards Kelemvor, his eyes burning with hate, 'Kelemvor… what is the law that governs where dead souls go?'

 The God of the Dead sighed. 'The law states that the god the dying soul called upon is the god he will serve for eternity. It also states that the opportunity exists for the soul to change its allegiance while on the Fugue Plain, though it is extremely rare.'

 Cyric smiled, a feral smile. 'No more questions.'

 He sat, and gestured for Kathryn to proceed. She stood, and called, 'Helm, God of Guardians.'

 The god walked proudly towards the witness area, and waited for Kathryn to walk towards him. The Goddess said, 'Lord Helm, you know the heart and soul of your Prelate intimately. He was born to two paladins who served you, and has fought in your name for years. You had a direct hand in naming him your Prelate… why?'

 Helm said, 'Because his loyalty to me was strong, stronger than tempered steel, and in the new ages of terror that plague this land, such loyalty was important to me. Also, his actions and mind followed strictly my rules and teachings.'

 Kathryn nodded. 'So you find it surprising that your Prelate now lies in agony in the realm of Loviatar, bound to her by a cruel enchantment that only exists because of manipulation and trickery?'

 Helm nodded. 'Yes. Had her agent not blocked my power, he would not have doubted, and would still be in my embrace this day. What she did violates the sanctity of worship and faith, which is a law that makes up the fabric of the universe. Lord Ao told us that without our worshippers, we are nothing, and so the guiding hand of the universe has spoken. For other gods to bewitch other god's followers on the brink of death is a grave violation.'

 The Goddess of Song nodded. 'Thank you, Lord Helm.'

 Cyric stood, the air flaming around him. 'Lord Helm, you say that to steal worshippers is evil and wrong, a violation against Lord Ao himself. Well, your followers, and by default, you yourself, are guilty of this crime. When you killed my followers during the attack on Athkatla, many of them repented from my ways, and now walk in your halls. Surely your follower can be turned the opposite way?'

 Helm nodded. 'Yes. But it is the choice of evil to turn to good, just as it is the choice of good to turn to evil. This is not the question, Cyric. What is the question, is that if we bind the souls of our worshippers against their will, then how can we take value from prayers, if we remove the free will that makes mortals so important. And we have no right to take away to free will of the human race- another law laid down by Lord Ao.'

 The God of Madness growled. 'Indeed.'

 Kathryn watched as Cyric sat, and then stood. 'I call Loviatar, Mistress of Pain.'

 Smiling confidently, Loviatar moved into the witness area, and waited arrogantly for Kathryn to begin her cross-examination.

 'Lady Loviatar… would you care to explain to us all what you did to Prelate Wessallen in the Hall of the Most Radiant Heart?'

 'No.'

 'I beg your pardon?'

 'I said, no. What I did is common knowledge… everything except for the prayer itself, which I would not share with anyone. So, Lady Kathryn, that answer is no, I will not tell you what my power did to him, other than binding him to my service.

 'Against his will?'

 'Despite his will.'

 'Is there a difference?'

 'Not one that matters.'

 'Indeed. How long did he resist your magic?'

 'Quite long. His will was impressive, but eventually he saw sense and turned to my painful servitude, the painful servitude which he learned to love so passionately.'

 'So you did work against his will?'

 'No, despite his will.'

 'You have said that before, Lady Loviatar.'

 'You have asked that question before, Lady Kathryn.'

 'Indeed I have. Tell me, if Helm turned one of your clerics from your power through trickery and deceit, how would you feel?'

 'I would inflict utter pain upon that soul, for falling so easily to goodness.'

 'So it would pain you.'

 'I did not say that.'

 'But if you would take vengeance, then it implies that a wrong has been done, and that it hurts your soul.'

 'That is supposition.'

 'Supposition based on fact.'

 'False fact created by needless supposition.'

 'If you say so. Now, Loviatar… tell us what Wessallen is doing in your realm…'

 'Suffering.'

 'Really… how nice for him. What are your other servants doing?'

 'What they wish, as long as it causes pain.'

 'Ah… so based on the laws of your realm, Wessallen could do what he wished, as long as it hurts someone?'

 'Yes.'

 'Thank you, Loviatar.'

 Cyric stood, and looked at Kathryn for a time, wondering what she had gained from her examination of Loviatar. Finally, he turned to the Goddess of Pain, and said, 'Lady Pain, when Wessallen died, did he feel any real conviction?'

 'Yes.'

 'Would you care to elaborate?'

 'Certainly. As he died, the Prelate was fighting against my power, the pain coursing through him. He wanted to turn back to Helm, but then, just as he was about to die, he realised how right my tenets were, he realised how beautiful pain is… and wanted above all else to have the power over others that I had over him.'

 'Hardly the honour-bound paladin of Helm we have heard so much about, is he?'

 'No, he is a weak-willed fool who gave in easily to my power, finally understanding its higher position over the folly of Helm's guardianship, which I might had, has failed so many times. The Tablets of Fate… guarding Mystra's prison… so many failures for the poor little god of guardians…'

 Tyr shouted, 'This trial is not a bantering forum, lady. Kindly close your mouth, and speak only what has relevance to this trial.'

 Loviatar nodded. 'Very well, Lord Justice.'

 Cyric said, 'Lady Pain, would you class the Prelate as a valued worshipper?'

 'Certainly. He is a symbol of my victory over Helm.'

 'So you would class him as a true worshipper, turned to you by his own commitment to pain?'

 'Yes.'

 'No further questions.'

 There was a long silence, and then Kathryn said, 'I wish to call former Prelate, Wessallen of Helm…'

 Loviatar smiled. 'Wessallen of Loviatar.'

 Helm roared, 'That is being decided as we speak, Loviatar, do not profane the name of my cleric with your slander.'

 Tyr slammed his hammer on the table, and then said, 'Silence. The witness comes before us…'

 Wessallen appeared in the midst of the gods, facing Helm. He saw the god, and fell to his knees. 'Helm… my lord Helm, forgive me, please… I… I could not fight her power… even in death I could not resist, and had to call upon her… lord, forgive me…'

 Helm said, 'Whether I am allowed to or not is being decided at this moment, my son. Have courage. I am doing all I can to free you from pain.'

 Loviatar shrieked with laughter. 'He will not succeed, my toy. You will spend eternity within my domain, feeling the cursed lash of my whip…'

 Kathryn stood, 'I wish to being my examination, Lord Justice.'

 Tyr nodded. 'Very well.'

 Kathryn walked towards Wessallen, and smiled. 'Greetings, Prelate.'

 'Lady Song.'

 She smiled. 'You know me?'

 The paladin nodded. 'Of course. Anomen fought for you during the War of the Five. His courage and light only exist now because of your encouragement. As I recall, it is because of your influence that he was judged worthy of Helm's service.'

 Kathryn giggled, 'You are too kind, Prelate. However, this has little relevance to the facts of your conflicting servitude. You are Wessallen, former Prelate of Helm, leader of the Order of the Most Radiant Heart?'

 'I am.'

 'During your life, Wessallen, you fought for Helm, did you not?'

 'Yes. I also served Torm and Tyr, although Helm was the source of my prayers.'

 'And when you killed, whose name did you invoke in blessing?'

 'Helm's.'

 'Whose name did you invoke as you slept?'

 'Helm's.'

 'Whose name did you protect as Prelate?'

 'Helm's.'

 'What god do you owe loyalty to?'

 'H… H… Helm.'

 'You found that difficult to say?'

 'Very. Her power still lies heavily on my soul.'

 'Just to clarify, whose power?'

 'Loviatar's, Mistress of Pain.'

 'Interesting. Tell me, Wessallen, did you, at any point in your life before your death, call on Loviatar for anything?'

 'No.'

 'Did you ever let a single one of her servants escape your sword if you found them.'

 'As far as I could, no.'

 'Did you ever find yourself enjoying pain?'

 'No, though I often sent an offering to Ilmater, an offering of thanks for his painbearing that serves humanity well.'

 'So if you had to choose one of the gods of pain as a master, who would you choose?'

 'I could not. Helm is my master.'

 'Yet you called for Loviatar?'

 'Yes.'

 'Why?'

 'I… I do not fully understand. But I arrived in the Fugue Plain, and I knew I should serve Helm, but a voice whispered in my mind… telling me that I should call on Loviatar. I tried to resist, but the words tumbled from my mouth.'

 'Wessallen, you are saying there was no belief in Loviatar's mastery, only a forced prayer?'

 'Yes.'

 'So if you were placed on the Fugue Plain again, whose name would you call?'

 'Helm's, without a doubt.'

 'And if Helm was forbidden to answer your prayer, would you then call on Loviatar?'

 'No.'

 'Who would you call on?'

 'I would rather exist as one of the Faithless, than worship Loviatar.'

 Kathryn smiled. 'Thank you, Prelate. My Lord Cyric? Any questions?'

 'None.'

 There was a long silence, and then Tyr stood. 'Cyric, if you would like to put your case before us, summing up what you feel should be done?'

 'Certainly, Lord Justice. Gods of Realmspace, there should be no other verdict today, other than the verdict that this petty soul should be sent to Loviatar. The law of death states clearly, as our lord Kelemvor told us, that the god the soul calls on is the god that soul serves for eternity. Prelate Wessallen called on Loviatar, not Helm. He should serve Loviatar, not Helm. Furthermore, Loviatar values this man as her worshipper, which implies he bears some belief in her powder, and there must, as Kathryn no doubt will say, be some belief for a prayer to constitute a prayer. Prelate Wessallen prayed to Loviatar. That fact was admitted from his own lips. That prayer was backed up by belief, we have heard that from Loviatar. From Kelemvor, we have heard the law of death, which none of us can disobey. Therefore, the verdict is clear. Wessallen belongs to Loviatar.'

 There was another long silence, and then Kathryn stood. 'Cyric is absolutely right. Wessallen prayed to Loviatar with belief, just as he prayed to Helm with belief. All that Cyric has said is true, which is surprising for the Prince of Lies. Yes, my fellow gods, Wessallen does belong in Loviatar's realm. I do not dispute that any longer, though the way in which she claimed his soul is surely suspect. However, I now seize on something that Loviatar herself said in answer to one of my questions.'

 Kathryn clicked her fingers, and the sound of her voice spilled across the room.

 'Ah… so based on the laws of your realm, Wessallen could do what he wished, as long as it hurts someone?'

 'Yes.'

 'And therein, peers, lies the reason why Wessallen has the right to choose his realm. Loviatar stated that it is a law in her realm that her people be allowed to do what they will, as long as it causes pain. Well, Wessallen has the right to choose Helm as his god, and the pain he will cause will harm Loviatar. What better person to hurt, than the Goddess of Pain herself? That is why Wessalen belongs with Helm. The law of death has been obeyed, Wessallen lies with Loviatar. Now the law of Loviatar herself will be obeyed, which allows Wessallen to return to Helm.'

 The shriek of Loviatar's rage echoed throughout the heavens.