Hiya. Hopefully, this chapter will be better than the last one, which I don't get the impression people liked. In answer to a few points: Nalia was killed by ogres and hobgoblins, because in my opinion, a sword held by a hobgoblin, or a sword held by a baatezu can kill the same person. If a gibberling caught Elminster napping, and cut his throat, Elminster would die. He couldn't say: wait a minute, I'm level forty! Die, gibberling! Nope. He would die. I would hope that this story isn't an insult to BG fans everywhere, but if it is, then it will be because BG fans view these things in terms of levels, specific monsters and limitations… and this story is not like that. If Nalia is surrounded by five thousand hobgoblins, and there are two hundred thousand ogres all around the valley, then no amount of being level 40 is going to save. Well, enjoy! ~G

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Is Death Final?

Kathryn's Realm, 1 Tarsakh, 1370 DR

 "No!"

 Kathryn's shriek of raw pain and loss tore through her marbled halls, and the Faithful who served her cringed as harp strings snapped and the lulling melodies became distorted by an awful din… Gorion, resplendent in the soft pink robes, clapped his hands to his ears, and then stared at the goddess, who now bore silver tears that streaked down her cheek.

 "What is it, my daughter?"

 The Goddess of All Song looked at him, and said, "It is Nalia… she is… dead…"

 Viconia looked up, and whispered. "Nalia? By the gods… that… that is certainly… certainly a turn for the… the… worse…"

 Khalid sighed. "V- Viconia, just a- admit that y- you love her… it'll be a lot easier… a l- lot easier… y- you were good friends… it is okay to mourn, and show weakness…" He turned to face Kathryn. "I am sorry, Kathryn… I did not know this Nalia, but I know that her loss will be hurting you greatly…"

 She nodded. "Yes… yes it will, but it will hurt not only me, but… all of Amn, and my Church, the stability of the Sword Coast. Everything hinged on Nalia, everything. She was binding everything together, she held the loyalty and love of thousands, she was powerful, influential, and the ogre magi feared her… and now what? What am I meant to do now that she is lost to me?"

 A tear touched the floor, and all around them, echoing throughout the heavens, came a single note of such loss and sadness, that it seemed for a moment that the stars themselves shivered with sorrow…

 And while Kathryn wept, Gorion held her close, whispering words of comfort in her ear… her servants throughout her realm lifted their voices in song, their harps in tune… and in the midst of this song-filled mourning, there was a gleaming flash of blue light, and Mystra stood before the throne of All Song.

 "Kathryn… I… I have felt the death of Nalia this day…"

 Kathryn nodded. "I know. Lady Mystra, we are defeated. Amn will fall, my Church will shatter, and Cyric's desires will be made corporeal… you talk now to a dying goddess… are you sure you wish to associate yourself with me?"

 Mystra sighed. "Of course I do… but please, Kathryn, let me finish… Nalia has died, and her soul has appeared in the Fugue Plain… but the gods are in an uproar… she is refusing to die… she is refusing to leave Amn to the hordes…"

*

 Nalia shrieked, and from her fingers, a massive blast of ice and lightning churned into the demons that threatened her, that stopped her from walking further forward into the Realms of the Dead. Above her, she saw the gods watching, their power something incomprehensible, yet the threat of instant annihilation did not discourage Nalia, and she lashed out again, at a baatezu, sending him flying from her in a blast of solid air.

 Around her, the Faithful of the gods were screaming, yet most were just standing watching the display of power from this archmage. With a cry, Nalia roared: "Kelemvor! Lord of the Dead! Come before me now! I refuse to die! I refuse to give into death! Send me back! Send me back, you bastard!"

 There was a shivering sigh, and a soft muted glow of pink appeared beside Nalia. She felt comforting arms around her, and she looked into the eyes of Kathryn, her friend and goddess… alongside Kathryn stood Mystra, watching her with pride.

 But then there was a whipping wind that smelt musty, like the air from a great crypt, and before her, with his silver mask, stood Kelemvor, standing perfectly still, looking at Nalia.

 "Who do you think you are, to command me, Nalia de'Arnise? You are not alive anymore, you are no longer corporeal, you have no power at all, other than the power that your goddess gives you… why should you gain special treatment, of all the souls within the Fugue Plain?"

 His voice was laced with anger, and Nalia took a step back. "I have things yet to do, my lord Kelemvor. Amn, my nation, lies in chaos and disarray, and such chaos will spread throughout the Sword Coast, and to the rest of Faerun. In Maztica, the Helmite capitols will dissolve, as the knights are called back to Athkatla. The revolts of Yamash will continue… the slaughter of innocents will pile up, and the Lord of the Dead's realm will cry out with the despair of newborn babes, and the shrieks of dying women, raped by the dark desires of invaders. The world will live in a perpetual state of war, for remove one nation of balance, and replace it will a powerful nation of evil, and that evil will spread, like a vile cancer. Baldur's Gate will fall, its towers toppling in smoke and flame. Waterdeep will crash into the sea, trashed by the sahuagin, and the drow will rise from their pits to claim the dark places of the earth once more… the groves of Suldanesslar will burn, and the elves will cry out to their gods as they turn their swords against the humans who are enslaved to evil's will… and in the centre of it all, you will stand, you will stand, sending the babies to Hell to be tormented by demons, babies who are Faithless because they cannot serve a god… the False will be so numerous that Hell itself will not be able to contain them, and all across the cosmos, a great war will rage between the flagging gods of good, and the evil gods whose hunger has grown great from the slaughter… and then your portfolio will be stripped from you, Kelemvor, because the universe will have no place for Balance, no place for a god like you! And then, Cyric will gain control of your realm once again, and no-one anywhere will know peace! If I am forced to die, then all this will come to pass, for the realm of Amn cannot stand without me!"

 Kelemvor remained standing silently, and said, "I may not break the rules of the universe, set by Lord Ao himself, Nalia… you know this… Kathryn will have told you… your body has been shattered. Your head rides on a pike towards Murann, and your body lies in the trampled mud of the valley… how am I to raise you from the dead now?"

 Nalia spoke with clear scorn. "For a god, anything is possible."

 The Lord of the Dead shook his head. "No, Nalia, you will remain here. You may cry out to your mistress, who will take you to her realm, where you may exist forever in harmony and music, but you may not rise again. Your life is over."

 "No!"

 Fire shot from her fingers, towards Kelemvor, but immediately, Kathryn was standing between them both, and she absorbed the magic with a grunt. Kelemvor's eyes narrowed, and he pushed Kathryn out of the way: "You want to attack me, Nalia? Then go ahead! Defeat me if you wish!"

 And he rose to twice her height… three times her height… four times her height… he continued to rise, until his height was so great that her mind boggled at the concept. His eyes fixed upon her, he bellowed, his wrath crackling throughout the plains: "Kill me, Nalia de'Arnise, and see what happens to the Balance! Kill me if you can!"

 But into the midst of his rage, Mystra whispered, "Kelemvor… for the love we once had for each other as mortals… please, do this thing… you know what she says is true. It may not happen as quickly as she said, or solely because she has died, but it will happen, over time… are you going to stand up and say you shattered the Balance because you refused one request?"

 Kelemvor shrank to a normal height, and his voice seemed sad. "I have laws, Mystra, just as magic has rules… I cannot restore her to life. She is irrevocably dead… if I could restore her to life, then I could restore anyone…"
 Mystra cracked. "That is not true, and you know it. Nalia is no ordinary wizard! She has the power of a long line flowing through her veins. You are right: no other mortal could be resurrected, but Nalia is not a normal mortal."

 "No, Mystra."

 The Goddess of Magic sighed, and her eyes glistened with sadness… "Then our love has truly shattered, Kelemvor… where once there was still something there… there is now nothing… Cyric will certainly drink his fill tonight…"

 Nalia watched all this. "Lord Kelemvor, is it a sacrifice you desire?"

 Kelemvor said, "There is no sacrifice you can make that will negate a violation of the Balance, Nalia…"

 But Nalia knew there was. She looked at Kathryn, and then bowed her head… she had to do it… she had to live again, so that in the future, others would pray to Kathryn, that others would be able to live in her marble halls, playing music and spending eternity in joy… and for that, Nalia needed to give something… she had given her life… what else could she give?

 And then, like an itch, the thought came to her. With a quiet, sad little voice, she murmured… "I will give you my afterlife… I will serve eternity in the halls of Hell, to be tortured so that I scream forever, till the stars flicker and die, till the gods lie forgotten, and then for even longer… I will exist in pain, horror and torture, so that others may experience the joy of peace within my nation."

 Kelemvor looked at her, his eyes wide. "You would do this? For a corrupt nation, led by men who send you to die? For them, you would give up your eternity?"

 Nalia looked at Kathryn, who was crying again now… "Yes, my lord Kelemvor… I would… but not for the Council, for the people… for the people of my nation… for music, for magic, for beauty and hope… for life."

 "Then so be it… let is be so… let…" His voice broke slightly. "Let Nalia's afterlife be given to the monsters within Hell, so that she may live once more, to save the nation of Amn from destruction… let my blessing be given to this, let my power join with any that wish to help… so that Nalia de'Arnise may defy the laws of the universe."

*

 The powers of many gods crackled across the heavens. Kathryn and Mystra stood on either side of Kelemvor, weaving their powers with his… with them, stood Helm, who recognised Nalia's duty… Tyr, who knew that justice, had to be served… Torm, who had looked in awe of her bravery… Ilmater, who knew that her suffering would match that of his worshippers… Lathander stood with them, hoping that a new beginning could rise from this endeavour… Oghma lent his power, to preserve the learning and sanctity of Candlekeep, which might fall if chaos came to the Sword Coast… Silvanus lent the healing power of nature, holding hands with Chauntea… the two aspects of nature united… with words of magic, the gods called from the mortal realms, the head and body of Nalia… they summoned her spirit, and Nalia felt herself becoming lost with the immense scope of immortal power, as it trapped her soul, and sent it, flickering, into her body… and then with every ounce of their might, they knitted the bones, the sinews, the veins, the cells… they knitted them together.

 Nalia screamed as the pain of her death gripped her once again, but then that pain faded, as the gods reversed time around her body… taking away the wounds… and then they started the heart pumping… pumping… pumping…

 With a tortured, agonised gasp, Nalia breathed… and then faded into blackness… breathed… and woke up, lying in the mud, surrounded by the dead bodies of the Amnish legions and ogre hordes…

 The stars flickered strangely bright in the night sky… and Nalia just lay there and cried… she had given everything to return her… everything… and now that she had returned, she knew just what she had lost.

 She knew exactly what she had lost, and she sat their, with the hot tears streaming down her face… brushing across her pale skin like the brushing of delicate fingers… and above her, a thunderstorm broke, and rain melted with the tears, lashing down upon the floor with immense force… but Nalia did not feel it, she didn't feel the cold, or the wetness…

 Nalia de'Arnise had defied the gods… she had defied the laws of the universe itself… Nalia de'Arnise lived once again… and she had never felt worse. She shrieked at the top of her voice, and her anguish rose even unto the heavens…

 And Kathryn wept…