Disclaimer: I own nothing, despite how much I wish otherwise. Yes, I wish I owned Cyric. I love Cyric. I'm really weird sometimes.

Spoiler Warning: This story takes place during Crucible: The Trial of Cyric the Mad, so there are most certainly spoilers. Oh, and there are spoilers for Prince of Lies and the Avatar Trilogy as well. There is also a one-word mention of someone from Salvatore's Drizzt books.

Summary: Well, its about Cyric, god of murder, lies, intrigue, deception and illusion. All those nasty things. I haven't seen a story involving Cyric on here, so I decided to remedy that. It takes place a short time after Cyric switches hearts with Malik. It portrays Cyric in a good way, so if you hate Cyric don't read it. Most of it is also Cyric's thoughts. Keep in mind that Cyric is still insane here, so if it jumps around or seems slightly incoherent, its Cyric's fault. Honest. There is also a TINY bit of Cyric/Midnight hinted at.

Nothing That Can't Be Fixed

"Was Oghma right? Is there something wrong with me, Malik?"

"Nothing! Nothing that can't be fixed, Mighty One."

Somewhere deep in the heart of Pandemonium, a madman lived. No, a mad god. The chaos of Pandemonium swirled heavily around the Shattered Keep, also known as the Castle of the Supreme Throne. Cyric, Prince of Lies, the Dark Sun, the Mad God, lived here. He had lived here for quite some time. Bone Castle in the Realm of the Dead having been stolen from him by the Usurper, the vile Kelemvor Lyonsbane. No, thought Cyric, not stolen. I made him take it from me. I made him Lord Death. Of course I did. Nothing is certain until I have beheld it. Cyric shook his head, trying to clear it. Malik's heart beat painfully in his chest every time he told himself that he was the Supreme Ruler, the God of Gods. Malik had told him the truth about not betraying him, the fat merchant's strong heart in his own chest was proof of this, but why did it hurt when he told himself the truth about the Throne of Death or about how he was the One and All? Cyric decided that it was just his imagination. After all, gods didn't feel pain except from another god. His earlier conversation with Malik came to mind. The fat merchant's words had had a greater effect on him than he had let on.

"You shut yourself in the Shattered Keep and delude yourself into believing you play other gods like puppets! When they refuse to do as you command, you claim they are only jealous of your power. But even we mortals can see that they are laughing behind your-!"

Here, Cyric had interrupted the little man. He had not wanted to see the truth of his condition, but Malik's heart was making that very hard. Perhaps Malik was right. Perhaps they were laughing at him. He wouldn't put it past Midnight and Kelemvor to laugh at him. They were too stupid to understand his power, and so they would laugh. The only ones he could think of that would honestly laugh at his condition would be Tempus or Talos. The god did not think that they were stupid, just that they blamed him for their own mistakes. Once Malik had the Cyrinishad and read it at the trial, they would all fall under his command. Yes, that would be the way it would go. Even the dense Kelemvor would be his inferior, though he could think of nothing to do with the Usurper but kill him. His thoughts raced back to Malik's words. The fanatic merchant had said that he had to do something to remind his followers and the other gods of how dangerous he was. That had brought Adon, Midnight's beloved patriarch, to mind.

Adon was once a cleric of Sune, Goddess of Love and Beauty. During the Time of Troubles, when Cyric and his soon-to-be slaves were mortal, the stupid cleric had been scarred and thought the Goddess had abandoned him. After Midnight convinced Ao to make her the Goddess of Magic, she chose Adon to be her patriarch. Cyric thought this a foolish decision, considering that it would only make Adon more apt to be murdered by Cyric's followers. But then, Midnight was never known for her intelligence. Somehow, though, Adon had avoided Cyric's assassin's. Cyric had considered going to an assassin many hailed as the best on Faerun, Entreri or something, but decided against it. He had decided to take matters into his own hands. He didn't need to kill Adon, just make him insane. The fop would kill himself out of the love he bore for Midnight the Harlot.

Yes, she was a harlot. Throwing herself all over that dense brute, Kelemvor, during their time as companions. She didn't see how Cyric had felt about her. Or maybe she hadn't care. Yes, of course she hadn't cared. She was a heartless, hateful bitch who preferred her men stupid and brutish. Cyric hadn't fit the bill, so she had not cared one wit for him. The evil god remembered his burning jealousy over Kelemvor and Midnight's love. He had wanted someone to have such love for him. Now, he realized the truth. Love was nothing but weakness. Why did one need to care at all about love? Perhaps by killing Adon he could kill the love between the foul harlot and the brutish, poor-excuse-for-a-death god Kelemvor. Kelemvor would know of Adon's impending death, and if he chose to do nothing, the fop would die and Midnight would be enraged with him. Yes, and that would assure his own verdict of guilt if Malik did not procure his holy book. For if he could destroy the love of gods, surely he would be capable of filling the lives of Faerun's mortals with strife and discord. The other gods would certainly see this.

Cyric used his godly powers to locate Adon. Perhaps he should get started soon. If Malik didn't find the Cyrinishad, he would need a way of proving that he was guilty. Adon's death and the death of the love between the gods were his perfect evidence. He would certainly fix everything. Nothing would rob him of his godhood. Of his life, his power. Malik was right. Everything would turn out properly.

Yes, indeed. Nothing that can't be fixed.

The End

Review, please! Flames, good reviews, I don't care! Just please review! Sorry if it was so short. I wrote this when I was going crazy with boredom and had just finished reading Crucible for the 18th time. I had to write something about Cyric. LOL. If I actually get good reviews, I may make another chapter. Argh. What am I saying? Everyone hates Cyric and no one wants to read about him. At least pretend to review.