The duty to live

[Anastasia]

"Wh-" Syala manages as you tumble through. A room. A great, looming library. You've been here before but you hardly have time to reflect. For Mystra lies on the ground here, holding her shoulder. Blood, the color of silver fire and sunsets, leaks from in between her fingers. In each droplet you can sense a thousand spells, a microcosm of magic itself. Her face is a rictus of pain, deep in concentration.

Azuth stands over her, chanting a dreadful and powerful spell, one that seems to shake everything nearby. His long white hair flies back in an unseen wind.

Together, Velsharoon and Savras form a perimeter around this, no words as a dozen radiant barriers surround all of them, to keep any other at bay. They are stone silent, deeply focused.

"A...Alicia..." Mystra manages, voice weak. Scared. Hurt. "Help."

[Ebiris]

"What happened?" Alicia asks, hurrying towards Mystra, barely sparing attention for the other deities present.

[Anastasia]

Mystra drops her hand. Buried in her shoulder is...nothing. A shard of absolute nothing, a rough and jagged thing. Like a hole in everything, a hole in reality, plunged into Mystra's shoulder.

"It...it came through..." Mystra manages, a breath. Azuth chant as he taps the shard, yet nothing happens, only getting him to redouble his chant. "It came through a spell, I...underestimated her. I saw her a moment, I felt her hate, I felt her steal some of my blood. I...I may be able to counter it if I focus all my power, but to do so would disrupt the Weave across Creation. My focus is on not allowing it to disrupt the Weave, but I can't stop it like that."

"A paradox of choice," Azuth declares grimly, "Let Creation be devastated, let perhaps Ao notice such a dereliction of duty. Then endure it and slowly become undone while you protect the Weave until it too collapses. Neither choice is palatable."

Quietly, a whisper in your minds, 'Then we must find a third option,' Savras declares.

[Ebiris]

"Can we do it?" Alicia asks tersely, a glance at the other deities of magic present. "I can bring Marie along as well, together can we sustain the weave in your stead long enough?"

As she speaks Marie indeed comes through the still open gate, hurrying over and looking tense.

[Anastasia]

"It may be possible, but...should one of you falter, you would be subject to unimaginable harm. It may even destroy you, so great is the power of the full Weave." Mystra warns.

"Fool," Velsharoon sneers, his dead face gazing on at Mystra, "You speak as if we would fail at such a simple task."

"Necessity makes heroes of us all," Azuth agrees, "Should the worst happen, I have always known that I may one day die to protect the Weave."

"I'll watch over you," Syala offers, "In case Shar isn't done yet."

[Ebiris]

Alicia gives Syala a brisk nod before she focuses on Mystra. "We've claimed the mantle of deities of magic. We'll have to earn it, let us bear the burden so you can do what you must. Trust us."

Marie steps forward and nods. "Maybe we can't do it as easily as you can, but we'll do what we have to, for as long as you need us."

[Anastasia]

"Come," Mystra invites as her blood flows from the wound, "Brace yourselves."

[Ebiris]

Alicia and Marie both stand before Mystra, bracing. Marie's hand reaches out and finds Alicia's, giving it a squeeze.

They got pulled into this at the end of things and are missing a lot of details over what happened, but Mystra needs help and they'll give it.

[Anastasia]

A moment and magic.

Everything.

A flood of a trillion spells. A hundred quadrillion incantations. Countless magics being wrought. A weight like an entire universe on your shoulders, repeating again and again and again and again and again and again and again. Again. Endless repetitions. Every speck of magic, every whirling and devastating second.

Give me Constitution and Charisma checks, you two. Also give me Concentration checks.

[Ebiris]

[18:40] <@Ebiris> roll 1d20+20+18 con Alicia, improvisation and good hope
[18:40] <Penuche> Ebiris invokes Penuche's magic: < 55 > [d20=17]
[18:40] <@Ebiris> roll 1d20+23+18 cha Alicia, improvisation and good hope
[18:40] <Penuche> Ebiris invokes Penuche's magic: < 48 > [d20=7]
[18:41] <@Ebiris> roll 1d20+57+15 concentration Alicia, divine insight and greater heroism
[18:41] <Penuche> Ebiris invokes Penuche's magic: < 90 > [d20=18]

[18:42] <@Ebiris> roll 1d20+15+18 con Marie, improvisation and good hope
[18:42] <Penuche> Ebiris invokes Penuche's magic: < 36 > [d20=3]
[18:42] <@Ebiris> roll 1d20+18+18 cha Marie, improvisation and good hope
[18:42] <Penuche> Ebiris invokes Penuche's magic: < 37 > [d20=1]
[18:42] <@Ebiris> roll 1d20+55+15 concentration Marie, divine insight and greater heroism
[18:42] <Penuche> Ebiris invokes Penuche's magic: < 77 > [d20=7]

[Anastasia]

Alicia reels. Her senses are overwhelmed, expanding by the second and yet more and more and more yet comes. She struggles to keep up in that one terrible moment and somehow does so, enough to leave her mind nearly blank, screaming in pain - but intact.

Marie reels. It is the same for her, a devastating assault on her mind - and inside of her, something... - !

Fortitude save, Marie.

[Ebiris]

[18:53] <@Ebiris> roll 1d20+55+25 Marie fort, greater heroism, moment of prescience
[18:53] <Penuche> Ebiris invokes Penuche's magic: < 87 > [d20=7]

[Anastasia]

Marie collapses. Her mind is a red agony - she's dimly aware of Savras on the ground besides her. Yet Alicia stands as the sensation is gone.

Mystra gasps and rubs her shoulder, the wound and the nothingness gone. A moment later Velsharoon collapses to a knee, Azuth leaning heavily on a staff he pulled from nowhere.

[Ebiris]

Marie whimpers on the ground, not looking particularly divine.

"Marie... Savras? Are you alright?" Alicia asks after the two of them once the experience of supporting the weave fades, crouching over them and taking Marie's hand, feeling her spasm fitfully at the contact.

[Anastasia]

Syala is there as well, a gentle pulse of healing magic through Marie.

It mildly soothes the pain, perhaps.

Mystra is before Marie and Savras, a hand on each as she kneels. Slowly the pain recedes for Marie, letting her mind be free of it.

"I..will live," Savras declares as he sits up, "Mystra?"

"I am well now," Mystra declares, "I will need time to rest, but I am well."

"Hah," With a bony, rasping chuckle Velsharoon manages to stand. "That rancid bitch dares to strike us?"