Easthaven

On the ground, bleeding and dying, Zenithral trembles and gasps until Mylandra's healing touch. Eyes closed, his breathing calms and slows. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes. "Thank you," he mouths, not acknowledging her words, but instead expressing immeasurable gratitude for everyone and their willingness to put their lives on the line to protect him, even when they could have been safe from Zariel otherwise. "Thank you." He lets out a deep, slow breath and continues to lie on the ground, resting there.

Ilmadia rushes to Zenithral, she takes his hands and looks at Zariel, and there is a burning hatred and frustration in her eyes. She closes them, and her own healing glows around her hands and spreads into her son.

She stands and looks at Zariel again, anger gone. Only exhaustion and resignation.

Alalla approaches warily, sword still ready and glaive summoned to her hand. "What now?"

Ilmadia approaches Zariel. There is no wariness in her. She likely doesn't care much anymore. "Indeed, Zariel, what now?" She clenches her jaw then speaks again, her voice softer and less biting. "I was there yesterday. 'It gets better,' is the right thing to say, though I admit I am still skeptical. Still, we won't find out if we wallow, will we?" She extends a hand.

Zenithral sighs with relief at Ilmadia's healing. "Do we still have a devil to catch?" he asks, referring to Belfiet, eyes still closed. "Or has that ship sailed for the time being?"

64 / 111 HP
AC 17
Exhaustion 2

Alalla watches Zariel, but replies to Zenithral. "I think it's sailed for good, likely. He's in the Hells now, which is what killing him would have done, though I suppose he doesn't have that weird time restriction on him for potentially visiting us again. Anyway, he's gone, and is likely busy in Avernus. A dissatisfying end, but one of the best we hoped for." She looks up at the Scourge, shielding her eyes from its brightness. "One of them."

Zenithral nods his understanding. "Time to go, then?" He rolls onto his stomach, pushes himself to his feet, then holds a hand out, causing his bow to fly into it using mage hand. He glances at Ilmadia and Zariel, then looks at Mylandra for confirmation, regarding the Scourge. Grateful tears still fill his eyes.

Myllandra looks up at the blinding sky. "The Scourge is not easily dissuaded once set upon a course. The Words that set it in motion must be fulfilled. We have little time remaining."

"There is no time." The broken voice comes from Zariel. She lifts her head and accepts Ilmadia’s hand, rising to her feet. With the flaming aura gone her skin is left cracked and blackened. "If the Scourge must claim evil before it rests, let it claim me." Her wings stretch out, raining down flakes of ash as they break free. "Ilmater knows I deserve it."

Myllandra steps before Zariel, looking her straight in the eyes. "Our *Father* knows you deserve this second chance. In this you are redeemed, Sister." Her gauntleted hand lightly touches Zariel’s face. "You will be remembered in the rosters of heaven as a fearless champion of justice, who was wise and brave enough in the end admit her mistakes and fix them."

Tears of golden light fall over charred skin as Zariel’s shoulders shake in a sob. She touches Myllandra’s hand. "I bestow on you, Al-Dimeneira, all of the names that our Father, Ilmater, entrusted to me, to be guided and cared for as I should have done." She looks on Zenithral and Ilmadia. "Thank you, both of you."

Zariel rises into the air. She gives one last glance at all of those gathered in Easthaven to thwart the evil that took place here, then she lifts her head to the skies, to the supremely bright angelic form high above. Her wings rise, for a moment giving shade to those just below her. They come down hard with a thump, and ash bursts free from Zariel’s entire form as she streaks upward with supernatural speed. In the last glimpse before sight of her is lost entirely to the glare, her wings appear spotless and white.

Myllandra’s voice reaches their minds. "You have done it, heroes. The North is saved from Belhifet’s threat. No doubt the archdevil has plans in Avernus, and it pains me to think that he yet retains Crenshinibon, but for now the Prime Material Plane is free from his defiling presence.

The Ten Towns will recover. The Reghed barbarian tribes will once again roam the tundra. The orcs who died today will have their rest secured in a better haven than their kind has ever known, and those who live will build a home that will be known as a testament against tyranny. Your brave companion’s tomb will forever mark the place that you all stood together to stand against the worst that the Lower Planes could muster. And you brought peace to one of the most tormented souls that has ever existed.

On the behalf of all the Upper Planes, I thank you all."