(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

justice, but it does not UNDERSTAND it. It is not satisfactory. But it is
ENOUGH.”
He turned to Grace. “TANAR'RI are BORN from chaos. They care NOTHING
for JUSTICE. The SUCCUBUS knows of JUSTICE, but she has TURNED from it.
MERCY has POISONED her heart.”
"Stop this, Vhailor!"
But Grace stood proud and spoke calmly, "I know of justice, Vhailor. I
temper it with experience and wisdom, and when justice is tempered with
those two truths, it becomes stronger. I know of mercy and forgiveness as
well, for without them, the Planes would be a much crueler place."
Vhailor's eyes flared. “MERCY eats at the HEART of JUSTICE. MERCY devours
all that is PERFECTION. COMPASSION and FORGIVENESS are MERCY'S
POISONS.”
"No, Vhailor they are not," Grace continued, as if she were debating over a
cup of tea, "They are instruments by which another soul may be redeemed,
elevated and strengthened. In so doing, the multiverse is strengthened.
Therein lies the perfection you speak of."
“You are WEAK, SUCCUBUS. You are as WEAK as all your KIND. Where your
KIND seduces with the FLESH, MERCY has SEDUCED you. You are MERCY'S
WHORE. You are NOTHING.”
Fall-From-Grace drew herself up at this. "Am I, Vhailor? Then judge me with
your sight, see if you find me wanting. See if you can find the weakness that
you claim eats at me."
Vhailor's eyes flared as he stared at Fall-From-Grace, the two embers
burning like torches. Fall-From-Grace met his gaze steadily, her eyes crystal
and determined.
“The ROOTS of WEAKNESS are there. You BELIEVE yourself STRONG, but
MERCY will feed upon the roots. It will DEVOUR your WILL.” Vhailor paused
for a moment, and his next words fell like a hammer. “Yet... OTHER
weaknesses do you HOLD in your HEART, SUCCUBUS. That is what MY eyes
see. You CARE. In CARING, you have become WEAK.”
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