Dozens of lumps of coal appeared and settled onto the scale’s dishes. “By the time he completed his task, the universe had grown too vast and intricate for even Ao to watch over.” The scale wobbled and spilled the coal.
“So Ao created the gods.” The chunks of coal compressed into glittering diamonds, each with the symbol of a god etched upon it. “To preserve the order, he assigned each god certain duties and powers.” The diamonds returned to the dishes and the scales again hung balanced.
“Unfortunately, so he would not need to watch over them constantly, Ao created the gods with free wills. But with free will came ambition and greed, and the gods were soon struggling to increase their power at each other’s expense.”
The diamonds started moving from one dish to another, again unbalancing the scales. “Ao could not stop the struggle without eliminating the gods’ free will, so he began to oversee the transfer of powers and duties.” In an even stream, the diamonds began moving from one dish to another. The scales steadied.
“And he created the Tablets of Fate to reflect the powers and duties of each god. Now the gods could exercise their ambition, yet the tablets would allow Ao to be sure the Balance was always maintained. But Myrkul and Bane were more concerned with their own aspirations than the Balance.”
Two dark-colored diamonds left the dishes and circled the scales in crazy, erratic patterns. “So they took the tablets and hid them away, intending to steal as much power as possible during the confusion that followed.”
All the diamonds bounced out of the dishes and whirled about the room. The scales spun and jerked wildly, until at last they overturned and crashed to the table. “In anger, Ao cast all the gods from the Planes, sparing only Helm. To the God of Guardians, Ao assigned the task of keeping the other gods out of the Planes.
“Without the gods to exercise their powers and perform their duties, the Realms began slipping into chaos.” The diamonds rained down on the table. “Unless we recover the tablets and return them,” Elminster concluded, “the Realms will perish.” A bright flash filled the room, then the scales and the diamonds disappeared in wisps of smoke.
Kelemvor could not argue with Elminster’s conclusion. Somebody had to return the tablets. But he still did not see why it had to be Midnight.
Before the fighter could voice his thoughts, though, Durnan set his mug aside and spoke. “It seems everybody—gods and mortals alike—should want the same thing: to return the tablets to Ao. I shudder to say this, and I only bring it up to be sure you’ve considered the possibility, but would it matter if Myrkul returned the tablets?”
“Very much!” Midnight snapped, rising to her feet. Durnan’s suggestion appalled her. She had not endured Bhaal’s touch, watched Adon die, and braved the Realm of the Dead in order to let the Lord of Decay prevail. “Ao will look favorably upon whoever returns the tablets. Allowing Myrkul that privilege would be worse for the Realms than not returning the tablets at all. Can you imagine a world where the Lord of Decay is favored?”
“Besides,” Kelemvor added, “if Myrkul stole the tablets in the first place, I doubt he would return them now.”
“True,” Blackstaff concurred, surprised to find himself in agreement with the warrior. “He’d be afraid Ao would punish him for his theft.”
“We have no choice,” Elminster said, laying both hands on the tablet. “We must recover the other tablet from Myrkul.”
“But why does Midnight have to do it?” Kelemvor asked. He looked from Elminster to Blackstaff. “Why can’t you two do it? After all, you’re supposed to be great mages.”
“We are,” Blackstaff said defensively. “But not great enough to kill Myrkul.”
“Kill Myrkul! You’re mad!” Kelemvor yelled.
“No,” Blackstaff replied, meeting the warrior’s heated gaze with a calm demeanor. “Midnight can do it. Shortly before the Arrival, I lost much of my control over magic, as did all mages. But, unlike clerics, our powers did not fade at the moment of the fall or perish entirely. We could see no reason for this. So, while Elminster was investigating what had happened to the gods, I was trying to find out what had happened to magic.”
“What did you find out?” Durnan asked, for the first time sitting up straight.
“He discovered that I was in contact with Mystra just before Ao banished the gods,” Midnight said. “She gave part of her power to me.”
“Correct,” Blackstaff replied. “Somehow, Mystra learned of Ao’s anger before he exiled the gods. Perhaps Helm warned her, for it’s rumored that they were lovers. Be that as it may, Mystra entrusted part of her powers to Midnight, intending to recover that part when she entered our world.”
Midnight sighed, “Unfortunately, Bane captured the Lady of Mysteries when she arrived. Kelemvor, Adon, and I had to rescue her.” Midnight left out Cyric’s name, for she did not care to remember she had called the thief a friend. “While captive, Mystra learned that Bane and Myrkul had stolen the tablets. She tried to return to the Planes to tell Ao, but Helm destroyed her when she tried to fight past him. Her last act was to invest her powers in me so that I could recover the tablets.”
“And that’s why Midnight must be the one who confronts Myrkul,” Blackstaff said, laying a hand on the warrior’s shoulder. “She’s the only one who can defeat him.”
Kelemvor did not bother to object. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, the warrior saw that Midnight was the one who had to confront the Lord of the Dead.
But he still disliked the idea of using her as bait. She would have a better chance of surviving if they attacked Myrkul, instead of allowing the Lord of the Dead to surprise them. “If we must fight Old Lord Skull,” he said, “then let us do it on our terms, not his. Maybe we can catch him unprepared.”
“Carry the battle to his ground?” Blackstaff asked.
Kelemvor nodded.
“I approve,” Elminster said, smiling. “Myrkul will not expect it. The survivor from Ylarell’s patrol shall lead us to his lair.”
“If that’s what Kelemvor thinks is wise, then that’s what I’ll do,” Midnight told them, smiling at the warrior. “But first, I must rest.”
“Then I suggest we go to my tower and see if we can’t dispel the magic on this,” Blackstaff said, picking up the tablet. “If we intend to surprise Myrkul, we can’t have his wards detailing our moves for him.” He led the way out of the Yawning Portal.
As they stepped into the street, Midnight paused to look at the sky. It was a sickly green instead of blue, and the sun was purple instead of yellow, but she did not care. After enduring the white sky of the Fugue Plain and the drab gray of Myrkul’s city, she was just glad to have a sun and sky over her head.
Then she noticed a ribbon of scintillating colors descending from the heavens to the summit of Mount Waterdeep. It was too distant for her to see details, but she suspected it was a Celestial Stairway.
“Don’t stare,” Elminster whispered. “Most people cannot see it. They will think ye’ve gone daft.”
“I don’t care,” Midnight said. Still, she tore her gaze from the stairway and followed him down the street.
They had not taken more than a dozen steps before flapping wings startled Kelemvor. The fighter spun around and came nose to beak with a crow on Blackstaff’s shoulder. The bird’s left leg had been neatly splinted.