“Tell me about yourself then, Kreet. How did you come to find yourself living in the slums of the Royal City? No, I’m really very interested. How does a kobold become a Cleric of Pelor, and then end up here?”

So Kreet began to tell the Bishop the story of her life, but hesitated when she came to the part about her Excommunication from the monastery.

“You needn’t fear, Kreet. I know you have the Power of Pelor within you. I knew it from the moment I set eyes on you. If the Lord of Light is with you, I will never gainsay your right to wear the robes that befit your office.”

“It’s not that, my Bishop. It’s…” she began, then looked at Kallid and took his hand. “I’m sorry Kallid, but you were not my first love.”

Kallid shook his head, “Don’t be silly Kreet. We both had lives before we met. Besides, isn’t Pelor supposed to be all about bringing light to dark places?”

“That is a major tenet of our faith,” the Bishop agreed, turning back to Kreet. “Please go on, Kreet. It is important that I understand.”

Kreet drew in her breath and closed her eyes, thinking back to that fateful night so long ago when darkness, mutual affection and bad timing had changed her life forever. For a brief moment back then she had believed that the differences between human and kobold could be breached or ignored.

When she had finished, there was silence in the room.

“And for this you were Excommunicated?”

“Yes,” she said flatly, perhaps a touch of anger still in her voice. The memory of that night and its consequences still hurt.

The Bishop rose and began to pace the floor, collecting her own thoughts before responding.

“Kreet, I don’t know this particular order, but I know of similar ones. There are those who believe that pleasures of the flesh interfere with communion with our Lord. But as you said, your mandate to become a Cleric came not from this monastery or its Abbot, but from Pelor himself. You were right to recognize that.”

“I will not say that such a Rule is wrong in my official capacity. That isn’t for me to judge. Many good people have arisen from such places. There are many different Orders under Pelor. Personally I believe that to fight against nature is always a losing battle. The urge to love another physically is a realm outside our Lord’s domain. It is pitting god against god, and in this case I believe both gods are Good - so we fight against ourselves which can only aid the darkness…”

She returned to her seat. “But go on, what happened after you left the monastery?”

Kreet continued, telling the rest of her story up to the Black Jewel and the ghosts in the old shack. The Bishop seemed to pay special attention, but didn’t interrupt. So she continued on to her fall into the pit.

“Wait, do I misunderstand? You awoke in the Underdark?”

“Yes. But the place I awoke in… I don’t think it was anywhere near where I’d fallen. I think something happened.”

“The jewel?” the Bishop asked, now keen eyed and watching her every move.

“Yes. Something about the jewel. Before I awoke… I think I was dead.”

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

“And this jewel, what happened to it?”

Kreet closed her eyes. “I still have it. I’ve come to accept that it’s not a physical thing though. I don’t have to put it anywhere. When I want it... it is just there. No one else can see it.”

The Bishop stood up. “Do you have it now? Is it HERE?!”

Kreet was surprised and a little scared of her reaction. “Well, no… but I can manifest it if…”

“No! Do not even think about it!”

“You… know what it is then?” Kreet asked, not understanding why the Black Jewel was causing this Bishop such consternation.

“I believe you possess a Resurrection stone, Kreet. How it came to you I cannot imagine. A god has sent you that curse - or blessing. It depends on your point of view. But this did not come from Pelor. It is anathema to his essence!”

Kreet thought about that. “But… I think it was the ghost of Ka’Plo who gave it to me!”

“From the realm of the dead,” the Bishop amended with a foul expression on her face. “Yet Pelor allowed it. I believe Pelor is working something deep here, consorting with other gods who are his ancient enemies to achieve… something. Something through you. Oh this is too much for me, Kreet. I cannot interfere here. Ranking or no, I only serve Pelor. I cannot see his ends. Avelyn, do you have any thoughts?”

For the first time the leader of the Band rose from his chair. Kreet had almost forgotten he was there. Still, Bishop Wynda must trust him, so she decided she should too - though the god he followed was not Pelor.

“I think first we should explain to Kreet about what a Resurrection stone is and implies, your Excellency. I can see she knows it only by its effect on her life.”

The Bishop nodded and Avelyn began to speak directly to Kreet then.

“Kreet, do you know what makes us different from the gods?”

Kreet tilted her head. “We’re not gods.”

“No, obviously not. But what essential difference is there between mortals and gods? You can puzzle it out - it’s right there in the name.”

“Mortality,” she said, though still not understanding.

“That is it. The lowliest of gods have little in the way of power. But they all possess that one elusive thing that we can never possess. Immortality. It is said that they can waste away to nothingness if they are forgotten by mortals, but they are never truly gone. One discovery of an ancient temple and they can return. But us… we get only the one life. When it is gone perhaps our souls continue on, but our life is over.”

She began to protest, but he shushed her.

“Resurrection spells only snatch our souls back while the body can be restored. But when the body is past the point of resuscitation we are lost to oblivion forever and to the realm of the dead. You can argue details, but the bottom line is that we are mortal and our lives are finite. The gods envy us that, though it seems ludicrous to us to do so. But we envy them. Oh do we envy them! How much would you give for immortality, Kreet? Well, maybe not you. How much would an emperor give for it?”

“Everything.”

“Yes. Maybe you begin to see? Everything. If you could sell this Resurrection stone to someone of great wealth and power, how much do you think they would pay?”

Kallid spoke up then, voicing the thought Kreet had. “They wouldn’t. They would just take it.”

“That’s probably right,” Avelyn nodded, seeing the wisdom behind the little kobold’s answer. “But you see the point. A Resurrection stone - if such a thing truly exists - would be the most priceless object in the world to mortals. There are stories of such things. More, there are rumors of their existence. Of people who have such things that dwell among us mortals. For, you see, if you had no death…”

Kreet shook her head. “I don’t think it works like that. Maybe this isn’t a Resurrection stone. It only worked once.”

“But you still have it,” the Bishop said. “If it’s purpose were gone, it would be gone too. No, Kreet. It is not done with you yet.”

“But it took me away from my friends! From my life!”

“Did it? Without it, you would be dead. That is taking you away from your life,” Avelyn pointed out.

“And it brought you to me,” said a small voice beside her.

She smiled at that, now glad beyond measure that she’d brought Kallid with her. He brought her back to reality and out of thinking about things that were too big for her.

“Yes,” she said. “It brought me to you. And you brought me these three,” she said, rubbing her growing belly.

“A curse and a blessing,” the Bishop repeated. I don’t know that you are immortal, Kreet, but that’s not the important fact. The important fact is that I don’t know that you aren’t. But nevermind all that. I can gather the rest of your story well enough. You have a purpose, Kreet. One I will not stand in the way of! But now I have another question for you. The real question. What do you want?”