The border between Kharijite and Rahadoum is guarded, but mainly in one direction. A bribe befitting a for-the-moment noble of Infernal Cheliax got him across the guard's line, and a somewhat larger one got him into a caravan bound down the Salt Path to Azir and then on to Manaket.

From there he'd have to get by on a hell-mage's training and his own natural talent, and convince the Occularium to admit him as a student. Not easy. But fair.
 

He was talented. No longer wealthy, and his noble family meant nothing. But very talented. And there were, as it happened, scholarships for immigrants who could swear under truth magic that they had worshiped no god since entering Rahadoum and had no intention of worshiping any god in the future.

The Occularium was refreshingly honest and meritocratic. Theo wasn't the brightest student in his class, but good enough, and he was accepted by his peers.

"Enora! You're headed out on a research expedition, right? Carry a letter for me? It's meant for Westcrown."

"What business do you have with the devil-worshippers?"

"I promised to keep in touch. And as much as I hated it there, they're still family."

"We can't all be as lucky with kin as me, I guess. Sure, I'll take it. I'm headed south, though."

"You'll be going through Azir, though, right? There's usually some trader in port headed north."

"I'll try. What's your research these days?"

 "The differential focuses of arcane research into immortality before and after Kirran. I doubt it has practical uses but I'll get a paper out of it and it's fascinating inspiration."

"Hoping to duplicate the elixir?"

"Personally my hopes point more toward finding a method of lichdom that requires less murder. Not that I'd turn down youth serum if I could make it, of course."

"Well, best of luck! I need to prepare for the trip."

"Safe travels!"

It's late, and Theo is in the limited-access stacks chasing the records of some possibly-theist mages who attempted immortality in idiosyncratic ways. Most of what he's found so far came from clearly deranged minds, or possibly was recounted by hopelessly deranged or biased sources. Hard to tell, but unreliable in any case.

The current specific target was offhandedly referenced in a work about the Test of the Starstone. Technically, traveling to Absalom to take it is not a violation of the Laws of Man as long as, if you succeed, you do not return. It's still enough of a grey area to be kept out of the general-access archives. The reference mentioned a woman who stole the secret of immortality from Pharasma. Fascinating prospect, but why didn't she share it? Perhaps something here will say.

Ah, this looks promising: The Scorn of Pharasma: Those who defied Death and what became of them. Well, promising is a bit optimistic, realistically the gods are bastards so probably she received some excruciating torture. Still worth looking into.

Erecura, Thief of Forever, Speaker of Futures: Once a soothsayer and worshipper of Pharasma in her aspect as patron of prophecy, Erecura was elevated to her divine servant. However, she remained mortal and secretly resented Pharasma's imposition of death on her and other humans. Taking advantage of her trusted position, she stole the secret of immortality from Pharasma's coffers. Pharasma quickly realized the theft, and condemned Erecura to Hell for eternity for her crime.

Erecura is now a minor goddess, presiding over soothsayers, hubris, fortune-telling, and living seekers of immortality.

I guess I'll have to leave this incident out of my results. "Successful: attained divinity" is not something the Occularium is interested in hearing.

While his research moved on, the memory stuck. The compiled prospectus of what paths to immortality were over- and under-explored in the last twenty centuries was complete, and Theo moved on to applied research in the field.

It transpired that killing mice is sufficient to make a mouse phylactery. Probably. The first three mice seemed to go quite insane, and it was too expensive to keep trying. So it was hard to be sure. It was enough to justify expensing a research trip to Geb, though. Time to interview some liches and see what notes their libraries held on the theoretical underpinnings of the lich ritual.

Geb is the focus of his trip, but as long as he's traveling to the Near Obari, he plans out other places to visit. Jalmeray is quietly unfriendly to Rahadoumis, and the Great Library of Tephu, which is run by Nethysian priests, is loudly unfriendly. The Arcanamirium is also worth a visit, though Abasalom has enough regular trade with Rahadoum that there's not much to be learned in person. The universities of Quantium are also impressive; a Professor Zardilev has been a frequent correspondent and he attached his arcane mark to a letter to get Theopho access to some of the libraries. And visiting Scrivenbough is...tempting.

He has several copies of his complete immortality prospectus, and of the incomplete manuscript on lichdom theory. Then it's time to go.

The first stop in Geb is the Ebon Mausoleum. Ideological biases to his research aside - claiming incorporeal undead can't be any of the other three kinds, really? -  Professor Mechani is the authority in the country, so it would be silly not to ask. Kissing the ring will make it easier to find volunteers.

"Hello. Can I make an appointment with the professor? I'm Theopho Rahadi, of the Occularium; I've written him about my monograph on immortality and my works on the nature of lichdom."

"I'll ask him today. Are you staying in the visiting scholar's dormitory?"

"Yes, thank you. I brought copies of my work for him, since I don't think the Mausoleum has them yet. Shall I leave them with you?"

"Acceptable; if he's not interested, I'll pass them on to the main library and note your donation. I'll have a message left for you by tomorrow evening either way."

"Wonderful, thank you again"

A friendly argument about generalizations of the lichdom ritual and whether Overlord Geb should be considered a consummate undead later, he had a letter of introduction and contact information for a dozen 'young' liches who had taught, or in some cases studied with, the professor,  and were low in paranoia.

Only three consented to let him look, even with a fairly strong geas and mind-reading active. Two of those let him examine their phylactery, though, which was better than he'd expected. And one of the ones who refused was interested in his work and asked to correspond about it; a lover of his was a skilled soldier, but he had no aptitude for magic, and so the lich wanted to adapt the ritual of lichdom to be castable on his behalf so they could be married in undeath. Theopho gave him a copy of his existing manuscript and promised to stay in touch.

Not bad for a few month's work.

Where next? The Great Library of Tephu got back to him, but the Nethysians in charge still had a no-entry policy for Rahadoumis, so that was a bust as expected. Jalmeray was tentatively allowing him to visit, but looked unlikely to let him into any of the libraries, none of the scholars there had returned his letters, and honestly there wasn't any expert he dearly wanted to talk with. So, unless he wanted to make a deposit at a bank of Alkenstar, which didn't seem warranted at the moment, it looked like a visit to Nex was all that was left before he headed home to Rahadoum.

And that still seems right two days later, so he goes. Farewells and offered copies of the rough notes from his trips to Professor Mechani and the Mausoleum (rejected), his lich collaborators (one accepted), and finally to the collaboratively-inclined romantic (accepted). 

Then a short ship ride, switch ships in Niswam, and hello, Quantium

Professor Zardilev is delightful in person, as it turns out. He specializes in the study of time and time-affecting magic and has a fascinating research plan about a past village, founded under An-Hepsu XI the Lich Pharaoh, premortem, which was researching the same things as Theopho but somehow brought divine wrath or something like it down on their heads; they're apparently still slowly progressing through time, occasionally intersecting the world in the location in Osirion the village occupied. Zardilev is primarily interested in the phenomenon that dislodged them, but has gathered some information about their research projects, and is happy to both share it and commiserate over "Gods, am I right?" with the Rahadi.

They part after dinner, agreeing to meet and talk at least once a week while Theo's in the city.

The libraries of Quantium are, it turns out, even better than their reputation. Theo concludes that this is most likely the result of Quantium's universities being very secretive, moreso than anyone he's heard of, except probably the Athenaeum in Egorian. (Though "that he's heard of" is a pretty big caveat for that, isn't it?) Professor Zardilev's arcane mark gets him into most stacks. Necromancy is, as expected, the school the collections are weakest in, but following Zardilev's leads from the time of the Lich Pharaoh, and then leads those open up, finds a number of interesting tools. Just the detailed description of the 'living mummification' that An-Hepsu somehow induced on himself, though they don't provide any methods, was well worth the trip. He even finds a copy of The Scorn of Pharasma which has all the passages missing from the Pure Legion's copy. Which isn't relevant, really, but they are interesting, and were worth checking out just in case.

He originally only expected to stay in Quantium for a week or two, three at the outside. With excellent access as long as he keeps trading ideas with Zardilev, he stays quite occupied for a month and a half. But he does run out of productive avenues eventually. He decides to wrap things up. Politely.

As the professor pours after-dinner drinks that week, he breaks the news.

"Dishis, you've been an excellent host, and I am very glad, both professionally and personally, that I included Quantium on my trip. But it's about time for me to be leaving."

"And here I was hoping I was on my way to poaching you for our academy. Do you need to go so soon?"

"For all that Manaket is in a desert, it's still not half so infernally hot as Quantium. I am far too Chelish for this climate, my friend."

"And what, you never learned Endure Elements? I'll let you copy it cheap!"

Theo grinned, despite himself. "A nice try. But you must have noticed by now, I am a proper Rahadi, not just a citizen of Rahadoum. I'm not going to give up on the cause any more than the Steel Falcons will let a slaver pass unmolested. It's home."

"Yes, yes, no zealot like a convert. But it's a long way back, and you'll have years of access to the Occularium's libraries when you return. Are you sure you won't stay another month to be sure you aren't missing something?"

"It's a good point. I suppose I can start organizing my notes as easily here as at home... Alright, I'll stay at least another week. I'm still returning your mark, though."

Theo considers consulting Dishis about Scrivenbough, but decides against it. The price of entry is a damaging secret, and giving the professor the chance to guess that secret seems foolish.

He waits until the day before his booked passage leaves, and visits under Alter Self, with another copy ready for his departure. He debates going through with it for most of the morning, but ultimately his curiosity wins out. He shows up at the cult compound.

"Riddler, greetings. I have a secret matter I wish to learn about. I understand the price is to reveal a damaging secret about myself. The one I offer is the precise nature of the question."

"An offer which remains tantalizing despite its frequency. Our offer in reply is the same as for others: share the secret first. It will not be written down, not on parchment nor paper nor papyrus nor skin, if the deal is refused. But it will not be forgotten."

Theo is silent for a few moments.

"...Acceptable. I wish to learn about the nature and origin of a minor god, not one tied to the Abyss.

This is damaging because I am an immigrant to and naturalized citizen of Rahadoum. Born in Cheliax."

"Interesting. I will consult with my fellows in the next room."

Did Theo predict that? He should have.

After a handful of tense minutes waiting, the masked Riddler returns.

"We accept this price. Name the godling. We will confirm we can recount their tale. When we have, you will disclose your name, both at birth and at present."

That, he expected. Obviously.

"And reveal your true face. Then we will reveal the information."

Somewhat less obvious, but likewise expected.

"And why do you think this face is untrue?"

"Don't be insulting. Only fools and repeat customers visit Scrivenbough unmasked. We have detect illusion anchored on every threshold."

"Fair enough. I wish to know about the life and nature of Erecura, who defied Pharasma and deified herself."

"The Bride of Dis! Oh, very tantalizing, wayward son of Asmodeus, very tantalizing indeed. What do you know?"

"She served Pharasma as servitors and psychopomps do, but was mortal, and harbored resentment for her mortality. She stole immortality from Death's own coffers, and for her betrayal was sentenced to Hell eternally, but remains apart from it ideologically. And, yes, that she is wedded to Dispater."

"Well-informed you are, Rahadi. Wait here."

How did he? No, no, it's an obvious guess. And they would be good guessers, wouldn't they? His reaction was probably telling.

Damnation, he is really not cut out for this cloak-and-dagger shit.

The Riddler returned, and guided Theo - "Theopho Rahadi, previously Theopho Lebanel" - through the stacks. He learned several things.

"Emissary" is an unusual and nonspecific title; a more precise and well-understood one for Erecura's position in life would be "high oracle". She was not a formal priestess but the most powerful of diviners in Pharasma's service, and the one consulted by the formal priesthood when they required guidance more specific than doctrine and more reliable than hoping for a vision. Erecura was favored enough to occasionally receive visions by being bodily transported to the Boneyard, which she ultimately used to set up her act of theft.

In life, she had a persistent wasting disease no magic could cure. This was considered her curse, which most prophets and prophetesses possessed; great power, but with a price. Beyond other spellcasters of her (considerable) power, she had power not just to see through time but to manipulate it.

Despite her power over time and her obedient service to the Divine Queen of Prophecy, her death of age approached, inexorably. Not directly tied to her patroness in her mind, her growing resentment went unnoticed by the Lady of Graves. But since she had visited the Boneyard bodily in visions, she was far more able to transport herself there than almost any other mortal. And one day, piecing together scraps she had seen there, visions she had received, and lore she collected, she perceived that in a room she had visited, Pharasma kept, well-concealed but weakly-guarded, seeds of divinity, fragments of dead gods and failed ascensions.

Stealing from these seeds would cure her mortality, and her wasting disease. It would also make her a godling, which seemed like an interesting and useful thing to be, upgrading to 'very important thing' when she contemplated the near-certainty that her theft would be discovered, if not immediately then at some later point during her (now eternal) lifetime. And Pharasma's opinion of those who tried to defy death was, then as now, extremely clear and well-known.

She planned for three years, three months, and three days. She spoke to a mystic theurge of Nethys and, together with her, devised a spell that channeled prophecy not through its reigning goddess Pharasma, but entirely and specifically through the Mad God Nethys. She created a bubble of Time-Out-Of-Time, and within that bubble cast the spell to determine when to strike.

She struck, she intruded, she stole. She ascended. She was caught. She was condemned.

For the next millennium and more, she was the goddess of prophets and oracles. Not of prophecy; Pharasma kept dominion over that. But she had dominion over those who proclaim prophecy. Pharasma might send them visions, but she would ward off dangers when they were recovering from them, and help them stave off madness from seeing too deeply into the prophetic depths.

She gravitated to Dis, the most civilized portion of Hell to her sensibilities. Asmodeus and Dispater cultivated her for her insight into the future, her skill for predicting the unknowable and seeing, while unseen, that which could not be seen. She flourished in adversity, and built a jungle garden within Dis's walls. And then, after many centuries, the garden became a palace: Dispater courted her, and won her affection and her hand in marriage. 

Then Aroden died, and the Age of Lost Omens began. Now there were no prophets, no oracles of the future. She was reduced to governing soothsayers. But a major god lay dead for the first time since the Starstone fell, sundering a world in his death throes. Gods, it seemed, were weaker than they appeared. The time was ripe for one of her old traits to come to the fore, the elevation of a new domain.

Erecura was not merely the Speaker of Auguries and the Flourisher-In-Desolation. She was also the Thief of Forever and the Emira of Hubris.

Pharasma was said to hiss with rage, because she could not condemn Erecura further without undermining her own authority. True or not, she enforced no punishment on her wayward servant beyond what had already been in place.

Theo felt an immense kinship. Here was a goddess he could have served, if the Laws of Man had not already claimed his heart. Spit in the old bitch's eye, and turned the spiteful retaliation into not just one victory, but two. Damnation, he almost wished she were unmarried so he could proposition her. It probably wouldn't work, he was no Cailean, but then she wasn't Calistria either. Also that would definitely get him kicked out of Rahadoum even if he was the dom in the relationship, which, let's be fair, was unlikely.

He thanked the Riddlers, confirmed that he was born to Noble House Lebanel rather than some other family with that surname, and departed to pack his final bags for the trip back to Manaket.

Given the unexpected length of his trip to Nex, he skipped Absalom and went direct to Manaket. He spent most of the trip organizing his notes further, and barely thought of his visit to Scrivenbough.

But as is standard procedure for re-entrants, shortly after leaving the docks he was screened for continued loyalty to Rahadoum. He is still a Rahadi, so this is a formality, but he's also still partly on a grant for Rahadis, so it's not one that can be skipped. Still, it's good to be home.

Witches are a gray area in Rahadoumi law; they don't worship their mysterious patrons, but they are certainly beholden to them, and they don't know that they aren't gods. But they're gray, not black; buying crafted items from them is on firm legal ground, while buying from churches is shakier. The end result is that the port has a handful of constant zone of truth artifacts, in the care of the local Pure Legion.

"Re-entrant: Theopho Rahadi, Adjunct Professor at the Occularium, returning from a research expedition to the near Obari. Is that correct?"

"It is. Geb and Nex, with stopovers elsewhere."

"Good. Your record is impeccable, but let's get this out of the way. Have you paid obeisance to any god, demigod, or other demander of worship, including in any case where it is permitted under the codified exceptions?"

"I have not."

"Have you conspired with clergy in any way that might bring harm upon Rahadoum or its people?"

"Excepting my time in Cheliax before I first entered Rahadoum, I have not."

"Have you conspired with foreign governments or their agents in any way that seemed to you liable to bring harm upon Rahadoum or its people?"

"I have not."

"Good. Please reaffirm your commitment to the First Law."

"I affirm that no-"

...

Why is his voice stuck in his throat?

...

Fuck. That counted?

"I am surprised to learn that I cannot truthfully do so. I really did not think that would count as a violation of the Law."

"Explain."

"During some research prior to leaving Rahadoum on this voyage I encountered reports of a woman named Erecura who stole the secret of immortality from Pharasma and became a minor goddess thereby. I delved slightly deeper into her story while in Quantium, out of professional curiosity as a fellow seeker after immortality. I was impressed by what I learned, but did not consider it plausible that this counted as reverence or worship, or as making myself beholden to her. The Zone of Truth has revealed that it did."

"This is false pretenses; you cannot be permitted to enter the nation and shall be stripped of your position in the Occularium."

"Indeed so, and I do not begrudge you or the Pure Legion enforcing it. However, please permit me to make a few additional statements clarifying the limited extent of the false pretenses."

"...Proceed."

"I could have honestly and without contortion affirmed the First Law at the time of my departure on this voyage and almost certainly could have done so three days before leaving port in Nex. I shall send copies of all my research conducted to date to the Occularium and any other portion of the Rahadoumi government which desires it, since it manifestly funded that research. As soon as I am able I will refund the portion of the faculty stipend which covers the time I was definitely in violation of its terms. I expect this will be possible within one month of making landfall in - probably Cheliax - at the longest. I bear no ill will toward Rahadoum or its people and was damn proud to call myself a Rahadi. And still would be proud, if I could call myself that honestly."

"Lastly, I would be very relieved if you would agree to convey my sincerest apologies to my colleagues at the Occularium. I imagine they will feel betrayed by the news."

This is already an unusual amount of flex for a soldier of the Pure Legion to display. But it increases slightly more:

"I... will see what I can do on that front. But now, you must leave."

"Of course."

Well. Back to Westcrown? Probably. Would his family be angry? Definitely. Did he have better options?

...Maybe.

The docks have little boats floating at their tips, technically not covered by Rahadoumi Laws and therefore possible to worship in semi-licitly. Two silver gets him four hours in a private room. He sketches the runed halo he saw in Scrivenbough onto some parchment and closes his eyes, touching his finger to it.

Well, Lady Erecura? I'm a big fan of your work, but I am much out of practice at worship and was never very good at it to begin with. But I'm in for a copper, so I'm willing to go in for a gold if you want me. Otherwise I'll probably be executed, and I imagine Pharasma doesn't send any souls your way.

Also, I don't think you would have heard my impertinent thoughts about propositioning you, but I give you and King Dispater my assurances that I would not dare to intrude. It was merely idle speculation over a hypothetical world where you had not married him. As I said, I'm a very, very big fan of your work.

There is a sensation of a timeless moment, staring through an impenetrable black blanket but sensing the movements behind it. A sound, as if ascending rapidly through a thousand panes of glass whose breaking stretches into a scream of rage. A moment of indescribable pain, followed by a seed of resolve which rapidly grows in strength, reducing and replacing the pain as it goes.

When Theo's eyes open again, the light in the room indicates that the sun has moved substantially. The paper he wrote on is gone, but the runes remain, floating in air, with a chain of gossamer stringing them together in a size fit for his neck.

And he can feel a new variety of spell at his fingertips.

He dons the necklace, and closes his eyes again. Thank you, my lady. I will try to be worthy of your regard.

The first divine spell he ever casts is, appropriately, augury. He inquired about the names of ships bound for Cheliax, before he descended into the private room; what outcome will taking the first of these produce?

Weal. Good.

..."Wayward son of Asmodeus" indeed.