"I'll avoid inflicting it on you again, then." Not long he'll have to bother.

"Why the Drunk?"

"Lady Pineda is, at least for the moment, an oracle of Cayden Cailean. Oracles, as you ought to know, do not have to be aligned with their god. And they are rare, virtually only ever one per patron. Because a god cannot limit the growth of their oracle. As they fight like any adventurer, and especially as they prophecy in ways that do in fact come to pass, they grow."

"And She Who Is Already Behind You has grown quite a lot. Enough to exhaust a god who was never very strong at all."

"Oh, is that why you like your goddess so much?"

"She drained her divinity straight from the source. Pharasma Herself, outfoxed and outplayed, left so all She had was the spite of exiling Erecura out of Her sight. And even that, with conditions imposed by the other gods. Hubris rewarded."

"Conditions, eh?"

"I just said I wasn't going to inflict that on you again."

And that's about when the first sparks appear in the sky.

"And so it begins," she echoes wryly. "The last one was Zon-Kuthon. This one is Cailean?"

"I.. don't know for sure. But... Cailean predicted it. The rumors have been everywhere."

"I thought the rumors were about the Nethysian's prophecy?"

"Those are just the legal rumors. But drunks from Azir to Indapatta have been talking about the godwar for weeks, or maybe months. That Carissa Sevar will ascend. That Achaekek won't touch her, and Asmodeus won't stop her." He casts something unrecognizable, that feels a little like a private sanctum.

"That's heretical, I'm sure, but probably not illegal. Not for people of our stature."

"No. But some heresy the Church simply bans."

"If she wins, they say, if the rest of Evil tries to slay her and fails, she will enter Hell to rein it in and reign in it. And that Asmodeus cannot stop her. No more paving stones. No more torture just to break the will."

"Pharasma wouldn't allow it. Too nice, not Evil enough."

"Sevarist doctrine says that Her souls are broken only so She can rebuild them in greater, stronger forms. That She will make devils greater than Hell can make today, because in true ex-Irorite fashion She considers nothing less than perfection acceptable, either for an end result or for a process. But that She absolutely will break them by any means necessary, to get there."

"Possible, I suppose. But not really plausible, is it?"

"Well, the last part of the rumor, always, was this. When the sky is sparkling, on the day, today - Wish Her well. Pray that She succeeds. Because against all Asmodeus and all other Evil, at the moment of Her ascension, She may need it."

"No one short of seventh circle should be able to see us. And She is our lawful empress, as much as I'm sure the Church regrets that at the moment. Do you want to?"

What's gotten into you today, she doesn't say. Admitting that she can't tell is offensive to her pride.

But she does think about it.

She thinks of herself as cruel. She's wrong. She tortures people only when it seems to her obviously required by her station and their actions. Or when it takes the form of them stepping into a courtroom placed as her opponent, when she mercilessly takes them for all their worth, inflicting whatever shameful, painful, or ungraceful penalties on them that she can, especially if imposing those benefits herself or her client in any respect. That is simply the cost of challenging her and being shown the error of your ways in so doing.

Irori is not one of her personal choices for additional worship second to Asmodeus, though in some unnoticed-by-her respects she is very like an Irorite. When she does any of that, she prefers Mephistopheles. (Recently, occasionally she spares a word for Dispater and Erecura.) But the notion of pain as a crucible, a tool only to be used to make your servants stronger... does appeal to her.

She never met Sevar in person; she is not competitive enough, on the correct axis, to be in the circles who are invited to the Queen's parties. But what she heard from those who did, she liked.

So she does pause, for a few moments, to wish a fellow wizard, a fellow lady of Cheliax, luck. 'You clearly ascended the mortal ranks on your own strength, and I respect that, and I hope I can emulate it where I haven't already,' she thinks, and 'May your ascent never be stopped.'

But then she shakes her head and says, "Not particularly."

He knows better; he's gotten better at reading people, and Tessane hasn't been as opaque to him as she is to most others since, oh, about the fifth time they slept together in school. But he doesn't say anything, because this isn't the time to tease her.

Because his thoughts just came unsealed.

A Gate is opening. He knows this. But that's not what he's thinking about. 

Like every soul connected to Erecura, what he is thinking about is that the Gardens are breaking free of Dis. He can feel it, though without the sealed warning gifted to his mind seven days ago when he prepared spells he would have no idea what the sensation was.

He knows that in a few moments, the Starstone will break. And then the Gardens will fly free. And a door will open in front of him. And he will step through, never to see this world again. If it is even still there to see.

What he is thinking about, is that he has about 150 seconds to convince Tessane to step through with him.

(Also, slightly, "ow", because actually having those thoughts come unsealed was really unpleasant.)

"Fuck. We don't have much time. Tess, I didn't invite you here to watch the fireworks. I couldn't say - couldn't think - but Erecura is allowed to end her exile under one and only one condition. And it's going to trigger in about a minute."

"The condition is that she can send Her Gardens out of Creation, if Creation is reasonably likely to be destroyed."