Inflict wounds 15 necrotic damage 21.  
temp hp 8

Once again, you stand before your goddess. She appears to you as a beautiful tabaxi woman, whose face now is fully white to match the full moon. Her arms and body are black as night, and speckled with tiny dots of starlit silver. She is naked but for her fur, though no less divine, serene, or serious for that. Beside you, a new-hatched harpy hovers, its feathers matching the night black flecked with starlight of your goddess. 

"You have performed the rite of reflection, under the holy light of the eclipse. You have begun to restore the damage that 500 years of twisted and fractured faith have done to my godhood. You have earned my favor. What would you ask of me, child?"

You experience minutes of silent peace in the sea of stars, all of the pain and stress of the past days floating away in this place with no gravity. When you are ready to look around, you notice a familiar form standing beside you. The statues and paintings in your cloister make this spirit immediately recognizable as the light bringer himself, the true king Gareth Dayne. He looks at you with a visage the practiced benevolence of a man who sees himself as a god, deigning to waste a fraction of his endless time in talking to a mere commoner. There is a hint of disdain and judgement beneath the veneer of benevolence, however, and of disappointment and despair. The empire he made has been crumbling these past 100 years, and he has spent this century as dead as any other mortal man.

"Well. Night has interceded, and interrupted the peace of my death, that a follower of mine may have an audience with me. You, dear girl, bear the marks of the blood magic that I helped develop to save the world, and carry the blood legacy of one of the elemental spirits who I recruited to aid us in that war. What would you ask of me?"

You stand amidst the see of stars, every constellation visible to you, every direction open to you gaze. The universe is laid open before you. With your expertise in the heavens, you recognize that your position is that of the center of the planet of Toril, though without the world blocking your gaze. you are observing the universe more purely than ever before, and there is no doubt to you that this is a favor, a gift from the Night herself.

You realize that, should you focus on a question, you will almost certainly be able to divine the answer, from this vantage point where all the stars are ready to sing to you. What do you wish to know?

In the sea of stars, you are overwhelmed by beauty, and there is nothing that demands action of you. No-one to protect, and no worry that anyone is missing your protection while you are here. There is nothing here to threaten you. In time, which stretches and slows as you see fit, you are able to turn your eyes inwards, to see the swirling energies and powers of your rage, and feel the thread that binds your emotional core to the Weave. Here, in this place of perfect peace, you feel that your powerful emotions are singing in tune with the universe. If you focus on a question, you will feel a true answer in your gut, as you are bound to the universe. This knowledge itself bubbles up from within you.

I think he was intending to wear his vestments but at the last minute embraces the idea of rebirth and fore gos even that, he goes naked.  As he stands before his goddess he cries letting go some past hurts immediately taken in by an emotional healing…

“The Crown of Divine Right is being used for terrible purposes, are we equipped enough to overcome its current bearer?”

"Yes, and no."

The goddess' eyes flash sunset red, and her voice takes on the tone of prophecy.

He who now wears the crown is naught but a mortal man

He has no power of his own, no skill with blade or weave.

But with the crown, his voice none can withstand.

Should he but speak, you will believe.

Powers far greater than you have fallen under his spell.

The greatest of them brings a frozen hell.

Her eyes return to shining silver, and she addresses you in her normal dusky tone.

My dear child, belief is a powerful thing. The last to wear the crown unmade me by reshaping the beliefs of the countless mortals of Fearun, and though the current wearer has no such great ambition, he has yet learned caution. I can not tell you more, for there is much shrouded even from us, and it must be your quest."

As he stands amongst the stars, he reflects on his journey so far. It had started through omens seen amongst these very stars themselves. It has certainly been eventful, and more than a little dangerous, but he believes his actions have been righteous. Even though there had been more than one difficult decision to make.

He wonders first about the Crown of Divine Right, but that was merely an object they were seeking. It was not a difficult decision to seek it out, and to want to stop the one who seemed to be abusing its power. Whether they were capable of doing that was another matter, but it wouldn't stop him trying. No-one should have that amount of power over the free will of others.

These thoughts lead him to the Chainbreakers and the gem dragon Hamza. He and his companions had allied themselves to her, and he even carried or token, but he had never been 100% certain that it was the right choice. He knew so little about them.

And so he concentrates his mind on the Chainbreakers, and Hamza herself.

Tell you everything? About my greatest achievement in the arcane arts; the tool I designed that made me a living god? All because you labour under the delusion that true freedom and true peace are somehow possible together, when obviously they cannot coexist?

Oh, my sweet summer child. I will answer your question anyway, for three reasons. Firstly, the device is too perfect for you to have a chance of destroying it. Second, vengeance on the fool who ended my reign. Third, because Night (the goddess dislikes me as it is) compels my soul to do so. And I suppose I do like to brag."

Gareth Dayne's spirit launches into a long, braggadocios explanation of the artefact he designed and the ritual that he convinced others to undertake to create it, and how doing so ended the cataclysm over 500 years ago. Some of his enthusiasm reminds you of Tesfaye's excitement about creating something new with the arcane arts; but his disregard for the lives the process cost is nothing like your dear friend. Some of what he describes is hard to understand, but you do get a deep understanding of the Crown, how it was created, what it does, and how it may be destroyed. https://www.dndbeyond.com/magic-items/4571053-crown-of-divine-right

Just as the movement of the stars and planets echoes in the movement of the lives on the material plane, so too do the great lives here echo into the astral plane. From this perspective, and with timeless time, Hemlock is able to find and watch these echoes, and to hear the story of Hamza from the very stars. He watches a fledgeling Sapphire dragon cared for by a family of lizardfolk in a beautiful forest, and the dragon's first flights and first attempts at transforming itself into other creatures and humanoids.

Soon, he sees Hamza grow into a fierce and powerful Gem dragon, joining others of his kind in hunting aberrations in the underdark, or in exploring the civilizations of humanoids and enjoying grand libraries, in varied guises. 

The cataclysm comes, and Hamza joins a war to stop the incursion of a powerful mind flayer army, and the countless species they have enslaved as thralls. Many dragons and humanoids and warriors are lost, and the gem dragon sees her parents and many friends die. Suddenly, in the height of a great battle, the ilithid armies stop, the mind flayers themselves aimless and confused, the thralls free. In a moment, the war is won, and not by any actions of Hamza's.

Hamza journeys to meet the hero who won the war, whom many are already treating as a king. By the time she arrives, the main envoys of the metalic dragons have already met with him, and signed an accord that henceforth no dragon will interfere in the societies of humanoids. Hamza can not understand, and is ready to charge in and demand answers from the mortal king, but is stopped by a great silver dragon.

Hundreds of years flash by, Hamza and this silver dragon meet frequently, they work in the shadows, they build and protect pockets of freedom and resistance to the growing empire, and the symbol of the shattered crown is forged. The two dragons meet in many different forms, and become extremely close, eventually even lovers.

Hamza frees a group of kobolds in the underark, and slowly grows to appreciate their culture, an tolerate their veneration towards her. She goes to a meeting with the Silver dragon, who does not arrive. She learns that this dragon had recently gone to investigate the Valley of the Silver Stream, and decides to follow.

In the guise of a dark-skinned male wood-elf, Hamza enters the valley, and begins to establish a friendship with the local people, to learn what they know, and to begin to defend them from the dark forces gathering at their doors. In this form, he quickly gains respect from the local people. Not long after, in her true form, she begins to build a secret base under one of the mountains on the edge of the valley, after freeing a small group of duergar from a lone surviving mind flayer.

Everything Hamza has told you seems to be true, though she had not told you everything; and the chainbreakers' vow is a real one.

Lam rises up and forgets about the momentary discomforts in his body, which remains below. He takes in the endless expanse of space and light.

Lam is speechless, but luckily in this place, there is no need for words. He is motionless, taking in the sight. If he is still breathing, it is calm and quiet, and not demanding any focus. For more than a few moments, he stays still and allows his mind to quiet. He had been worried before this about doing the ritual correctly for Sha- he had been worried about doing everything correctly for his friends- but such worries seem to fall away in the face of the universe. This is bigger than him, and not something he could mess up so easily. He feels what must be the urge to cry, at the sense that his own emotions do have a place here.

He gets the sense that there is no urgency in this place, and that he can learn something true about the universe if he focuses. He wants to learn something that will help his friends and himself in their journeys ahead. Until recently, he had not been able to prioritize anything beyond the immediate safety and health of those closest to him. He thinks about the multitude of different perspectives he has encountered in the past few days. Kings and gods who he’d never met are relevant to learn about all of a sudden. His friends have pushed him to be much smarter with his decisions, and he’s seen even them have their worlds turned upside down. He’s met some in unimaginable positions, and others making unimaginable decisions. He knows there is still so much he doesn’t understand.

He is surprised to find himself thinking of Tux and the journal they read, on one of the adventures where Lam first got a scale of just how much bigger than himself this might be. Tux had also tried to learn and understand so many new things. He wanted to help everyone around him, and for that he was cut down. Lam’s mind goes to Silvia Strixwell- a name that he had heard prior to meeting his friends, but never one he thought was important or bothered to learn anything about. He had figured that anyone relevant to his life would face him directly, and distant names would mean nothing to him. He now finds himself wondering about Lord Strixwell. Who is she? Why is she willing to do the things she has done for this crown? And then the more practical concerns- what is she planning? What might his friends be dealing with in the near future? He realizes that this is what he wants to find out- that a better understanding of this person might prove useful in the trials ahead. He focuses his thoughts on Silvia Strixwell.

Hemlock views the story of Hamza with a sense of detachment, watching events unfold as if from the perspective of the stars themselves. But when the story concludes, his sense of self returns, and he feels a wave of empathy for Hamza, and her lost Silver Dragon love.

He wonders about the dark skinned elven form Hamza took when she came to the Vale, and whether it is familiar to him. If not, perhaps Rhys knew them, or others at Village Tree.

Whatever happens now, he is certain he and his companions did the right thing in allying themselves with the Sapphire Dragon. The gem embedded in his star map seemed a little lighter now.

Each word escaping Dayne's lips confirms to Saoirse that her faith in him was utterly misplaced. She feels a tinge of sadness for this, for all the years she spent in blind belief and for all the others at her Order who still follow him. But, at the same time, she is grateful for the fateful encounter with Hamza that led her to open her eyes to the truth.

Dayne's speech is long and thorough, and each new piece of information about the Crown fills her heart with concern. However, the fact that there is a way to end the Crown's power is something they can cling to, even if it is a bloody solution. It always ended up in blood, didn't it...?

Saoirse takes careful note of the Crown's details, and then addresses Gareth Dayne again. "You created a monster. Rest assured that we will do everything in our power bring that monster to an end. And if we fail, others will continue our work. I swear this on my blood and my lineage, both of which you helped create."

The genasi bows once again and adds, "Farewell. Long may you reign."