And there are the rumors. His clients, congregation, whatever you call them, all keep hearing things. Even the merchants in distant ports.

The godwar's instigator, Carissa Sevar, will defy Achaechak. Defy Asmodeus Himself. She will be Lawful Evil, a Lady of Hell, but one who would never destroy her possessions. That when you see the sky go mad once more, she will want your help.

It's absurd. Impossible. Extremely heretical and illegal, in Cheliax. But those who hear it don't forget, nor do they discount it entirely. And so, neither does Theopho.

Well. If there's going to be a show, he knows who to invite as his plus-one.

Tessane,

Have you heard the rumors about the new prophecy of Absalom? I won't claim to know their accuracy, but I'm confident something is going to happen. Care to join me that afternoon?

Theo

Is even that much still illegal? 

But she has, actually, heard. She is an Archcountess and nobility of her grade are allowed to speculate about many things that are nominally forbidden.

And, of course, Sevar is now in charge. Which should have been impossible, that fast. And Theo... knows things he has no right knowing, which no one else she encounters knows.

Not that she needs that much temptation.

Theo,

I'd be delighted.

Tessane

Oh good.

He's bought a scroll that will turn most of a stone wall to a window for a day or two. If there's going to be lights in the sky, he wants a good view.

And it distracted him from the other prediction, the one he can't speak. He's also been pretty busy as a counselor. Upheaval in the government will do that.

But when the day arrives, he's sent people away. He'll be with a friend whatever happens, right up until the end.

"Tess!," he says once she's let herself in, "Good to see you."

"Always a pleasure. Have you been busy?"

"Extremely. Between the wild rumors about Korvosa, and then Wanshou, and then Absalom, and the assassination that seemed to stick. Not to mention the geopolitics."

"Oh, I bet you hated giving advice about the geopolitics."

"I'm also kind of shit at it. Help people understand their own concerns and what to do about things they don't quite know, sure. Predict other people, and lots of them? Even when I'm trying my hardest I'm not you. So, you know, I can honestly say that I'm not worth asking about them."

"Oh, you could manage to catch up with me, if you wanted to."

"What are you going to do to try to get me to want to?"

"Nothing. Yet."

"Just not today, alright? It's either going to be dull or very interesting, and either way I'd like to relax."

"Oh, if you insist. So, you're taking these rumors seriously?"

"They're international. I asked a contact to check Taldor and she said it's been heard as far east as Vudra. Could just be Sevarist cults, but I don't see how anyone could pull off that kind of propaganda win that fast." And he has other reasons to think it's weird.

"Or why they'd want to have it be rumor. No one's promulgating it. And she's our Empress, she could."

"That, too. It's a puzzle. And it means... someone powerful wants something to happen. Today. And I'm not betting against them."

"Usually the wise bet. Do you think it's her?"

"I'm sure she's involved. But no. It's one of the oracles, or involves them. Either the Nethysian, or She Who Bears Cake and Death."

"Does she really? Only, I've heard that she's the Most High's favorite, and it's... completely undignified."

"Oh yes. She's... well, I don't know what she is, exactly, but she's an oracle of Cayden Cailean, with a curse and blessing never seen before, and she hates the indignity of it the way paladins hate Hell."

"With grudging acceptance that sometimes they have to work with it to close the Worldwound?"

"Just about."

"But we should go sit upstairs."

"Sit, shall we?"

"Oh, mostly."

But they do climb the stairs to his quarters.

"Oh, nice windows you've added. To see the sky better?"

"Yep, I found a temporary transmutation I could buy off a scroll. Last time it was a damn shame it was so hard to see the sky, I figured if it was going to be forecast, I might as well set up properly."

"What do you actually expect to happen, here?"

"The first prophecy is that today, during the eclipse, three mortals will ascend as gods, the Starstone will be destroyed, and all who live in Absalom will die to feed Sevar's ascension. The second is that there will be a godwar, and that the war will be fought over Sevar's ascension, and that She will, having ascended, change Hell to be... well, Sevarist. I expect that there is at least a little truth in both of them. And... there is at least one other thing."

"Which is?"

Theo opens his mouth but stops dead. He scowls. "Ask me again when the sky sparkles."

"Geas?"

"A plausible guess, and close enough to true."

"Usually you being frustrating is more fun than this."

"I'm not enjoying it either. Let me... get some drinks."

She has detect thoughts hung, obviously. But Theo has the weird headband and she probably can't take it off.

...Well. Not by force.

"Take off the headband. I'm reading your thoughts."

"No. Can't, I think."

"What the abyss have you gotten into?"

"What the Gardens, more like."

"Erecura's business?"

"She keeps Her secrets closely. And those of others. As do her clerics."

Tess... puts a hand on his shoulder. That's about the most that feels allowed.

He pours some drinks. His is... larger than usual. And he swigs some immediately.

Subject change? Subject change.

"So what parts of the predictions do you think are most likely to be true?"

"An ascension. Probably at least two. And a godwar. What it's about... Someone must know, but I doubt They are telling. And... I don't think we'll be able to see it, but the godwar is going to have at least one casualty."

"Really? Who?"

"You know, I'm not actually sure whether I can tell you."

"Fascinating. Try."

"As the Archcountess commands. C̴̢̧̧̡̛̩̩̹̗̭̤͍̘̣̤͇͍̖̙̥̭̜̳̽̒̄̏̆̍͑̓͐́́̊̓̇̔́͆̈̚ą̸̼͇̥͉̮̊̍͛̔̉̕͝y̸̨̧̘͇̻̼͈͔̹̮̜͇̩̤̟̘̏̈͊͑͌̌̀̆̆͑͆͂̽͐̌̃͑̈̈́͘͜͠͝d̴̦͕̟̙̦̹̦͎̘̰͓̓̈́͆͊̎͆̋̓͐̑͒̾̎͗̔́̈̌̇͠͝ͅę̷̗̬̹̼̪̺̖̲̬̗̱̭̮́̔̀̒̏̉̑̽͑̌̄̅̌̈̍́̔͜͠͝͝ņ̸̡̧̭͕̦͎̯͕͖̮̣͖̠̣̻̻̞͚̍̑̈́́͊̈́̀̊̑̊̍̑͋̒͘͝͠ͅ ̶̨̡̨͚̦̖͇̭͈͇̙̞̺̖̦͉̭͇̮͙̘̩̭͓͕̍̎̐̆̔̐̉͝C̴̤̬͍̬̲̹͇̳̜̫͖͛͒̀̿̑̒̍̒̓̔͌̊̇͜a̸̧̠̰̟͕̪̞̬̔̐̎̑̀̀̋̂̈̾̈́i̵̧̧̨̢̛̛͉̠͎̳̟̫̹̠̹̫͍̼̖̹͇̥̪̫͉͍̮̳̟̖͉̮̫̔̑͒̑̀̋̋̾̈́̃̀̌͋̔͛̅̃̊͑̅̿̄͋́͗̎̋̑̉̌̚͜͜͠l̷̢̧̥̞̺͉̣̰̤̙̓̇͐͂͜é̶̡̛̛̱̩̖̦͙̠̰̩͎̱̥͍̙̹͎͚̤̩͆̈́́̓̂͌͗̏̅͋͗̎̽̋͛̿̀̐̀̏̆̊̈́͘͝͠͝ȁ̸̡̛̪͇̣͍̝̭̻͌͛̄̎́̀͒̋́̋̑̉̍̆̃͆̒̏͌͂̏̽̀͘͘͝n̴̡͓̹̰̬̰͖̗̯̠̟̲̜͇͔͒̔̉́̅́̈́͜."

"I... heard that. I think. But I'm not sure what you said."

"You'll probably understand it in... about an hour and a half. Erecura is a demigoddess of secrets but she prefers to be a friendly one."

"A whole hour and a half, huh? What could I possibly do for that long?"

"Be very, very distracting?"

Yes.

But not infinitely so. And the time approaches. He has a grandfather clock, and has put a line where the hour hand should be, when the lunar eclipse begins.

"And so it begins," he intones, managing to keep the smile out of his voice just long enough.

"Since when are you a mysterious old pile of cryptic?"

"Since I had to be a sober, serious advisor for so many sober, serious people and come across as convincing."

"Well, as long as you can still turn it off."

In Absalom, events began three hours earlier. Many cities across Golarion have heard about it by now, but in Cheliax spreading true information is not considered a desirable thing, and so outside a few notables among the Crown and Church, it is unknown.

The warning came from the mouth of an oracle, so Theopho would know, if he had asked. But even if he thought to, he would not have bothered. He knows what is at stake. And soon those thoughts will come unbound.

Erecura is a demigod, and does not have a terribly large budget for interventions on the Material Plane. She is, while of Golarion originally, also less focused on her planet of origin than most ascended mortals. There, prophecy is broken, and this interests her. And there a god was killed, which as perpetrator of one of the most successful acts of hubris, and thus patron of it, also interests her. But she would normally husband her interventions.

But soon all accounts will be settled, all debts either collected or gone permanently into arrears. Her stores of power are being burned on something rather different, but for a weak action like passing a few sentences to the ears of a priest, which burns only stored latitude-to-affect-mortals, she can do to every one of her (not very numerous) anointed clerics.

Those sentences are:

"Magewar in ten minutes. Enormous lethal radius around Starstone. Start running NOW. Avoid mage-works. Dismiss outsiders. Don't go ethereal. Don't look back."

"Hiiii everyyyyyone! It's Pilar Pineda! Sorry we had to hold the fight here, but everyone needs to run away now! Abscond! FLEE!"

"I, Carissa Sevar, wish to avoid deaths so numerous that the River of Souls overflows and loses some forever. You can help by not being among them."

"I'm Keltham. What you're about to see is a warning explosion one thousandth as powerful as the lesser forces to be unleashed here."

Theo blinks, mutters "Don't look back" absent-mindedly. His eyes are half-closed and unfocused.

"Look back at what?"

"Erecura wants me to know what the oracles are saying in Absalom. 'Magewar in ten minutes around the Starstone. Run away. Don't look back.' Lady Pineda and Empress Sevar are there, too. And the outsider."

"That's a lot for Her to be saying, without a commune."

“These are strange days. For gods as much as for mortals, I think." And last days.

"True enough, I suppose. But she - the Nethysian? -said magewar, not godwar."

“Magewar in ten minutes. Godwar, I expect, in twelve. And the death of Cailean within fifteen."

"Well, of course, you said so ear- Wait. What?"

“Huh, I didn't expect that to come loose yet. Weird feeling, isn't it?

"Extremely. I don't like it."

"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."

"Destroy Creation? Talk sense, Theo. That would take a lot more than 'just' a godwar!"

"The outsider, Keltham, has - strong opinions. And the chemistry he taught us, and the science he's taught Osirion and the others, that's old news where he was born. Like the crossbow for us, rather than the hand-cannon. He just ascended, and he ascended entirely to make this threat. Scatter star-seeds and baby Rovagugs made of steel and lightning across a million million worlds. Either Asmodeus and Pharasma will cave, or it all gets ripped apart at the seams. My Lady Erecura will leave. With Her husband, and another - She didn't explain, Her clerics didn't need to know."

"I'm going with Them."

"Come with me."

"Please."

"You really think it will be destroyed?"

"I don't know. Neither do the gods. That was the condition. And... do you see Asmodeus backing down? Or Pharasma bending enough that She would force Him to back down?"

"You want to do this even if it wasn't for that. Why?"

Does he? Yeah, actually. How did she- no time. Can he explain off the cuff? He can try.

"...We can start again. Start everything again. Better, fairer, without - all this crap our society loads on us. Slavery, posturing against everyone, steeping ourselves in lies. Hiding affection for anyone because it's a weakness."

"I like the posturing."

"No, you like the pride. If you liked the posturing you'd be at court."

"...Okay, fair cop."

"Come with me," he says again.

"Please, love."

He's never said that before. It's been unspoken, in the background, ever since he become High Priest of Erecura, but he hasn't said it. Nor has she, obviously, that would be stupid and she's not stupid. Ten minutes ago she would have told you she did not, in fact, love her 'delightful rival'.

Right now her first thought is 'that was dirty pool'.

But the fact that it hits her hard, that is unmistakable. And the obvious explanation... is impossible to refute.

She feels weak. Love is weak.

But she can't deny it, either.

He reaches for her hand.

It shakes her reverie a little, and she musters a scrap of composure.

"You know, normal men just propose marriage."

"Of all the things I am not, I believe normal tops the list."

"But I can do that as well, if you like."

"It can wait. Yes, I will go with you. Let's see what the new world holds."

She gestures off-handedly, and her spellbook materializes in her free hand.

But she doesn't take her eyes off him for a moment.

He's leaving behind his family, every other friend he ever made. They may all be unmade forever, in moments after he leaves. But for this moment, he's exulting in having his Tessane with him. Whatever the exile's creation brings, they can face it.

His eyes barely budge from hers.

Is he not going to-? Oh, why wait.

"Kiss me, idiot."

"Gladly."

And he does.

She doesn't let it linger - there's not much time. But she does enjoy it intensely.

"Grab your spellbook, boy, unless wizardry isn't going to work there. How long do we have?"

"Less than a minute, I think. Also, Tibex and his family get to come, I need to call them up."

"Oh, am I not the only object of your heart?"

"No, just the dearest. And Tibex is my oldest friend."

"You say the sweetest things when you're too busy to self-censor."

"Don't get used to it," he retorts without thinking, and summons his own spellbook.

By the time that appears, he's listened to the words that just came out of his mouth, and thought better of them. "...Or do, actually, at this point I see no reason to mind."

"I think I just might."

He opens the door to the stairwell and calls down, "Tibex! Get everyone up here, we're evacuating the city! Armful of keepsakes at most."

And two adult halflings and their two half-grown children rush up the stairs, confused but trusting of their owner-who-wishes-he-wasn't.

And then, moments later, a Gate opens, shining white and gold and sickly-green, with the green of a beautiful jungle behind it.

And then the building, Temple of Erecura in Westcrown, is empty of life, like most other such temples across Golarion.

And then all in it are beyond Creation, never to return.

And they lived ever after.

(Happily, perhaps, but neither Theopho Lebanel nor Tessane Jeggare would ever have put that in their top three descriptions for a life well-lived.)