Author's Note: A giant thank you/shout-out to everyone who reviewed this story. You guys are amazing and nothing makes me want to write more.
Some months later...
"She's so tiny," Galen said with a smile, watching dark and delicate fingers curl around his own battle-roughened one. Lirayne's daughter was a newborn still, showing no signs of her demonic blood. In fact, he could sense divine magic in her aura rather than any profane taint. It reminded him of the subtle tug he felt when Lirayne reached out and connected to her goddess, which was strange. Solemn gray eyes looked up at him, so much older than the rest of her round face.
"And cute," Cessair said from her perch next to Lirayne's bed. Normally a drow mother would be up and moving now, but the birth had been a terrible and dangerous one. Only Galen's assistance had made the difference. Their priestess was sleeping while someone else she trusted watched the child for a while—she hadn't let Zesstra even in the same room. Siniira, however, was another story. Something about having an infant around again sparked something in the Matron Mother. Galen and Cess had even caught the woman being caring, which was a jarring experience.
"Where have you been, anyway?" Galen asked his sister, looking up from the little girl. Cessair was still disguised as a tiefling and seemed oddly comfortable in Menzoberranzan. It was like she'd finally found a place where she belonged, as unlikely as this place was to be her home.
"Taking care of things for a friend," Cessair said, unable to help a little smile.
She'd been standing in the impenetrable darkness of the Underdark without her ring on when she heard that familiar voice calling to her. All her thoughts of how to smooth over negotiations between the duergar and the Church vanished. "Cessair..." It was Val. She could have recognized it anywhere. So she wandered out further away from camp. She found herself standing in front of that worn statue of Menzoberranza the Kinless again.
"Am I dreaming?"
"No, you're quite awake. I want your help, Cessair. You know me. There are just things I can't do in the Material Plane any more," Val's voice said softly, issuing forth from the immobile lips of the statue. "You will always have my protection, whether you say yes or no. We were friends once."
"Yes, of course."
That had been the beginning of her new life. It was strange how people were attracted to the powers she wielded from her new patroness. Others had sworn themselves to the same cause. Not many, but some. Cessair had made certain it was only the most devoted who were allowed. Somehow, she'd found herself the interlocutor between the world of mortals and the Abyss. It was a strange role and she wasn't about to tell her paladin brother about it.
"I'm glad you're making friends," Galen said softly, automatically lowering his voice when he looked down and realized the peaceful infant had drifted off to sleep. "I never saw this coming, not in a hundred years. But I think Torm understands."
"He must, if you're still in good standing," Cessair said casually, fingering her necklace thoughtfully as she watched her brother and Lirayne's litle girl. They looked good together, even if it was strange. There was no doubt in her mind that Galen would make an excellent father figure, even if he had to pretend he wasn't one.
Galen caught the glimmer out of his eye and turned to look. "Very pretty," he said with a nod to the necklace.
It was a shard of obsidian with gleaming silver inlaid into to form the letters of a language he didn't understand. Which made sense—he'd never learned Abyssal. Cess smiled again. "Thank you." Again her thoughts flashed back to that moment when she'd seen the shard plunged into Valyne's chest, the way it had transformed her just as a similar shard had transformed Asmodeus from angel to the Lord of the Nine Hells according to myth.
And to think, this was only the beginning.
End.