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The Unthinkable [Throne of Bhaal Fanfic, Part 1]

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The Unthinkable – by Terzaerian

It was done.

Auraxian, Bhaalspawn, Kinslayer, the Maleficent Mage, Scourge of the Sword Coast, and Public Enemy Number 1 in Amn and Tethyr, let his arms fall to his side as the last cracklings of unleashed arcanum ebbed away.

Before him lay Amelyssan, last High Matriarch and greatest Deathstalker of the Lord of Murder's Bhaalist temple, the massive aspirant goddess finally overcome, and at his back, his remaining followers, Sarevok and Viconia, all that remained to him after the attrition of battle – and his own treachery. All around them the Abyss howled, the wind flapping the folds of Auraxian's long, beruned robes, seemingly reverberating with the echoes of a battle hard fought.

"Yes, half-brother, we've done it! The fool is overcome!" crowed Sarevok, walking to Auraxian's side, his gauntleted right fist uplifted in triumph, the other clapping onto Auraxian's shoulder. "Now, you can finally take your rightful place among the gods."

"Hm-hm," said Auraxian, his eyes still riveted to the prone form of Amelyssan, softly stroking the thin beard on his chin. "And what will you do?"

Sarevok blinked, and lowered his arms. "I had not considered. I... I am not sure." He looked at his feet, suddenly pensive.

Viconia didn't move, said nothing. Auraxian knew that she had thought about the future, and that she knew that Auraxian may but moments away from leaving her behind forever.

With a blinding flash, the Solar appeared, flaming sword bared. She looked around, and then down, noting with surprise Amelyssan's stricken form.

"Amelyssan has fallen!" thundered the Solar, regaining her composure. "And the gods have decreed: this contest is over."

"The gods?" said Auraxian, looking up and frowning. "I should say that I ended this contest quite handily on my own, Solar."

"Regardless," said the Solar, an edge of annoyance in her regal voice, "You now have a choice to make, godchild. You may surrender your portion of the essence of Bhaal, Lord of Murder, to the safekeeping of the gods, or take Amelyssan's portion into yourself, and ascend."

Sarevok was roused from his contemplation once more. "Choice! Pah! Do not waver! Were I in your shoes, I would lunge at this opportunity… it is no less than what I died at attempting. Take it… grab hold of what you deserve!"

Auraxian turned to Viconia, who nodded. "Indeed," she said. "Victory has come to you at last, my ssinssrigg. The power of your father is yours. Reach out, and take it."

There was no enthusiasm in her voice, however, no sincerity to be found. Auraxian turned back to the Solar. "These are my only options?"

"Unless you were to surrender it to someone else," said the puzzled Solar, "But there is no one else who could possibly wield it..."

"What about Amelyssan?" asked Auraxian.

Stunned silence followed. Even the eternal howling of the winds of the Abyss seemed to ebb out of shock.

"Are you insane?" screamed Sarevok. "After all she's done?! After all you've sacrificed to get here?"

"Yes," said Auraxian lazily, "It does seem mad. But what does taking the essence mean? Power, yes. Immortality, naturally. But also, to become even more tangled in the intrigues of the gods. Cyric already hounds me. For decades, maybe even centuries, I would be junior statesmen in their congress, a neophyte among their number. It would be like starting over."

He shook his head. "But to surrender it to the gods," he said, "Would be a waste of it. The great legacy of my father, sealed away in Ao's celestial lockbox for eternity. Equally unthinkable."

"As unthinkable as her?" sputtered the Solar. "She's mad!"

"Is she?" asked Auraxian pointedly. "She manipulated me – all of us – into doing her bidding. She has planned this for longer than I've been alive. She was ready, she was able – she just made the mistake of crossing me."

"Reason enough!" barked Sarevok.

"Now now, half-brother," said Auraxian demurely. "Where would you be if I hadn't shown you mercy?"

"That was different!" he snarled with exasperation. "A mere blip of your power to weld my own soul back together! You're talking about giving her everything. She will destroy us all!"

"Perhaps," he said, tenting his fingers, as was his wont during moments of contemplation. "Though only if we rush into it without thinking."

"If I even allow this," said the Solar icily.

"You will allow it," said Auraxian, glaring at the Solar. "I will not be muzzled with preconditions, nor allow you to steal away what's rightfully mine merely because my wishes do not coincide with your own. For if I can stop her," he said, raising his hands, nimbuses of power beginning to glow in both of them, "I can stop you."

"You dare threaten me?" thundered the Solar, her glowing eyes narrowing, flashing, her grip on the flaming sword tightening.

"He may be mad," said Sarevok, sliding the Blade of Chaos from its sheath, "But I will not hesitate to end you if you raise your arms against him."

"Unless the power of Shar destroys this meddling emissary first," crowed Viconia.

The Solar paused, and lowered her blade. "So be it," she said, her voice icy. "Do what you will, Bhaalspawn. I am done with you."

With a gesture, she summoned a portal back to Mt. Celestia, and vanished.

"Craven," gloated Sarevok, resheathing the Blade. "For all your eccentricity, you at least have a spine, half-brother."

"I just think things through, dear Sarevok," said Auraxian. "Do you recall Knucklebones, Skull Bowling, and the Empty Throne?"

Sarevok blinked. "Eh, yes," he said. "It's the tale of how our father ascended in the first place."

"Jergal, Lord of the End of Everything, willingly surrendered all of his immense power – greater than that of any god at the time – to Bane, Bhaal, and Myrkul," Auraxian chanted. "Willingly became their seneschal, though the Dead Three had ravaged his kingdom."

"Three mortals overcame the one immortal, Jergal, and ascended with his power; now three mortals on the cusp of ascension will surrender that power to one immortal, Amelyssan, who will ascend in their place," said Viconia.

"Symmetry and poetry," said Auraxian, grinning. "Prophets love symmetry, and that gem makes for a pretty creed."

"Your creeds and poetry might be enough for you," Sarevok spat, "But not for me! I haven't endured death in the flesh and death in Hell for that."

"You'll have far more than that, half-brother," said Auraxian. "You'll have a purpose. You and I will be the heralds of this new goddess: her high priests! Together, we will rebuild the temple of strife our father built. A new order of Deathstalkers will roam Faerûn, under our command!"

"Assuming she agrees," growled Sarevok, gesturing to the motionless priestess. "How do you know she'll play along with your plan?"

"She won't have a choice," chuckled Auraxian. "Gods and goddesses need worshippers, or their power fails. We're her last bridge to the prime material; she burns us at her peril."

"You're taking quite a gamble here regardless," said Viconia.

"It's a gamble either way," said Auraxian. "But once she has the power she was seeking, what reason will she have to hound me, save her own spite?"

"No shortage of that," mumbled Sarevok.

"Then she'll be too busy building a priesthood from scratch," said Auraxian with a shrug of his shoulders. "Her loss."
Auraxian the Kinslayer, last Spawn of Bhaal, has to make a choice about the destiny of his father's legacy - and is about to choose the unthinkable.

Part I of a Fanfiction Short Story
© 2012 - 2024 terzaerian
Comments6
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I like the idea, but not the way the solar was used. How often do you see her judge? How often do you see her voice opinion? She delivers information and gives you questions to think about. I know that if you finish ToB as a good (or whatever the exact criteria is) bhaalspawn, she says she's willing to remain by your side, but it's still a dispassionate offer. Your story would lead me to think the solar was the real mastermind at work, rather than Amelyssan, trying to make your ascension happen.