On the surface of the sea drifts the long, serpentine corpse of a massive, many-legged insect, with a ruined head at both ends. On top of its carapace, a poodle lies, half supine, clinging to the hilt of a sword thrust part-way into the creature's torso.

"No! … no … ," cries the poodle as she clings to her sword with what strength she can muster. For a moment she stares at the body of the dead thing that keeps her from the ocean below, eyes wide with fear even as her hands hold the blade that it might slip from her hand and the battle thus be lost. But has not the battle already been fought? How did it end? Memories start coming back to her and the shocking truths they hold cause her to finally shift. She lets a hand fall free from the sword to brace herself better on the corpse she now uses as a raft. Slowly she turns her head to look out across the ocean around her.

Her cry is like a violation, her passion at odds with the faded memories and washed-out emotions of this place, a world drained of all color. The massive insect corpse serving as the Gallee's craft twists and shifts, buffeted by the waves formed of dead souls. As the echo of her words fades, she realizes that the realm is not quite silent.

The sea whispers in the voices of a thousand hungry dead, a sibilant tongue that pleads, threatens, and cajoles, its words lurking just on the edge of understanding, never quite distinct. The sound tugs at the poodle even as it repels her, urging her closer that she might hear clearly at last.

The poodle pushes herself up to her knees and balances her weight evenly across the carcass, careful that her legs do not slip and thus touch the waters below. She leans over the body to look from a distance at the source of the voices, her left hand never loosening its grip upon her blade. Though reassuring to grasp the blade also continues to remind her of what had happened, and that is most disturbing indeed.

The distorted faces in the sea below seem oddly familiar, although the features all look like Eeee, and surely the white canid never knew this many bats. At least, she did not know them well. Their hands reach towards her, fingers sliding ineffectually against the chitinous side of the insect-raft, even as something in the back of her mind whispers, I know who they are…

"Who … ," the Gallee, drawn by their pain and suffering reaches for one of their hands, but stops, " … who are you? I know you … your faces, from … far away? Tell me who you are?" Her head tilts to the side slightly as she watches the suffering expressions twist and fade beneath her, the scene enough to cause her ears to lay back and a saddened frown to cross her face.

Their eyes stare at her, filled with nameless longing for what she all too recently possessed – life. But also present, in the twisting lines on muzzles, the flattened cant of ears, the curl of clutching hands, is something else. As she watches, she realizes it's the taint of hatred, of rage so strong that even death has not yet claimed it. I know who they are, she thinks, even as her conscious mind rebels at making the connection, refusing to acknowledge the truth no matter how inevitable it may be.

As realization sinks in that she does indeed know who they are, the Gallee moves her hand that so recently reached for them to push herself away from the corpse's edge. She backs away from the hate filled clawing, the stare of those empty eyes, and moves close to her sword which she still holds tightly. "It … cannot be!" she cries in protest to the waves.

A sudden surge in the waves on one side threatens to roll the insect-craft over, as the dead writhe forward at the sound of her words. Join us! they cry, sibilant words that are more felt than heard. Join us! For it is you who brought us here!

Hiding behind a bulkhead on the deck of the Tribulation, Elise holds her sword at ready, waiting for the rest of her rallied unit to get in position, as she watches the Eeee warriors who have swarmed her vessel. "Now!" she hisses out. "Charge!" And the soldiers rush in at her command, even as she does, seeking to slay the bats who would take control of their ship.

With her unit given its orders and the bats now where she has waited for them to gather, Elise races forward with her sword raised to strike. She has turned her men from thoughts of fleeing to a hope of victory, and now she will lead them to putting down these impudent bats who assault the ship she has been assigned to protect. "Bring them down for the glory of Rephidim!" she yells even as she swings her blade at the Eeee who comes to intercept her.

The startled attackers turn at the sudden surge of guardsmen from different directions. They raise their blades to retaliate, and the battle quickly turns into an ugly, surging mass of individuals engaged in their own, private, hellish struggles to survive.

A pained cry escapes the Eeee in front of the officer as her blade cuts into his shoulder with an awful noise. He staggers, clutching the fatal wound before slumping to the ground at the poodle's feet. She steps over him and moves on to the next attacker. "The First Ones watch over us! Take faith in their guidance!" Again her sword is lifted, this time to stab into the back of an Eeee who is engaged with a surrounded Jupani guardsman. The blow comes too late to save the guardsman, however, for he is soon cut down by his other adversaries.

As the bat succumbs to Lady de Bellefeuille's deadly stroke, his fingers clutch at her blade, then he falls forward, towards his comrades and the dying Jupani. The two Eeee who slew the guardsman fasten enraged looks upon the poodle, and, keening with anger and grief for their fellow, they leap over his body to attack her.

Meeting their charge, Elise lifts her shield to parry their incoming blows. "Knaves!" The blades slice across her chitin shield, causing the poodle to be forced backward a half step. She uses the shield to push the swords off to the side as she lifts her own blade to cut at the arm of one of the two, the unsteady blow crunching through a wing raised as a last ditch attempt to parry, and ends up striking the Eeee in the head.

As the one Eeee falls to the ground, the last leaps into the air, wings spread, and launches himself into a dive, sword out-thrust, descending towards her head. "Die!" he screeches.

"Ahh!" cries Elise as the she moves to dodge the blade but cannot quite get fully away in time. The weapon snaps a section of her gorget as it slides downward along her shoulder and back behind her, creating a painful but superficial cut. She staggers backwards as the rest of the Eeee follows the momentum of the trust and rams into her, and she uses this strike and proximity to make for a counterattack. Her knee is brought up into the bat's unarmored stomach, causing him to choke and fall forward to the ground. This in turn allows her to step around and bring her blade down with both hands into his backside. "Kill them, let them not stand against the fleet of Rephidim!"

This opponent, too, collapses to the ground, dead. As she looks around, the poodle sees the deck littered with corpses, of both Ashdod and Rephidim soldiers. Her eyes meet those of the dying bat whom she struck on the head, and she hears him say – quite distinctly, despite the deepness of his voice and sounds of the battle still raging, It doesn't matter how many of us you kill. Sunala will claim you, too, and all you hold dear … soon enough.

The Tribulation melts away, and the poodle finds myriad cold gray talons clutching at her body as the dead monster separating her from the sea threatens to roll over and shove her into the midst of the angry souls she has slain.

Elise's hands desperately clutch for what purchase they can as she tries to pull herself away from the hands threaten to drag her into the sea with them. "No!" she pleads as she struggles against them. "Leave me alone! Your deaths were your own doing!"

Yours. Your blade. Your fault. Murderer. The souls show her no more mercy than she showed them, but her struggle to shift away from them causes her morbid craft to rock backwards onto the sea, and she pulls away from their feeble, clinging fingers. Ours. Soon, the voices promise. Soon, you will be ours.

"Your choices! You would have killed us all!" yells Elise as she pulls herself fully onto the floating corpse. Her hand again latches on to her sword, and she uses it to keep herself steady – as teady as one can be, shivering and surrounded by the lost souls of those one has killed.

As she recovers some level of stability, the voices seem to recede, becoming once more an insistent but incoherent undertone, tugging at the edges of her mind.

Having escaped the waters for now, Elise seats herself on her knees next to her sword. "I am not a murderer. I did not kill them because I wanted to see them die. I fought because I had to defend my craft and those under my command. It was my duty, nothing more … ," she whispers to herself and the sea as she leans her head over to rest on the pommel of her imbedded blade.

Nothing and no one answers her protests, the soft words ringing hollowly across the seascape.

"Is this … how it will end? Not to travel the Procession … but … here, in this sea surrounded by the souls of those who died at my hand?" Hands clasp the grip of the sword tighter squeezing it. "Father … I did my best. I know I do not deserve this!"

Minutes, or perhaps days, pass, while the makeshift raft floats upon the endless waves, perhaps being pulled by some unseen current. Once, in the distance, the poodle catches a glimpse of a figure surging free of the ocean, leaping into the air and spreading wings to soar upwards, disappearing into the gray sky.

Elise watches the sky now, her head lifted to gazing longingly above so like the faces that surround her. Beyond this she has not moved since that indeterminate time when she last spoke. There is so little left now but to watch the empty expanse, she cannot help but think. Perhaps she will drift endlessly on this corpse forever, tormented by the dead that call for her. Such thoughts occupy her time until one distinct change in the sea catches her eye. Something has flown free. She lowers her head now and begins searching for it.

The freed form, visible for just moments, is gone. But, gradually, she becomes aware that the tenor of the voices pressing at her mind has changed, the anger and hatred dissipating from it. Replacing it is a patient, loving call, a gentle tug, beckoning her to come closer to the water's surface.

Feeling this change greatly, this shift from hate to love, Elise turns her gaze to the waters and leans over to search them again. Such a shift in the emotions cast at her is comparable to seeing the sun after years of clouds. It is some hope in an otherwise dismal and endless world.

In the waves below, amidst a hundred indifferent Eeee faces, the canid can just glimpse features out of place from the rest. A strand of curly silver-white hair, a momentary outline of poodle's muzzle, a flash of familiar, gentle eyes – all press at her with their hints of familiarity.

Elise shakes her head in disbelief. "No … you cannot be here!" she tells the face in the water pleadingly. "Please, no, you cannot be here … " She does not pull away from the image, though. She can only remain transfixed on the face and what it means.

A slender white hand, all too like her own, emerges from the grayness of the surrounding sea, reaching towards the poodle on the raft. It's been so long, my little one. The words resonate with love. Come back to us. From near the first hand emerges another, similar but this one larger and masculine, wearing a Rephidimite uniform sleeve.

Unable to deal with the thought of her father and mother ending up in this place she finds increasingly terrible the poodle can only pull herself away from their reaching hands and close her eyes. "You are not murderers either! You cannot be here! Cannot – no, you belong beyond the Procession with all our ancestors!" Her hands begin to shiver as they had before when the souls of the corsairs tried to pull her down. "I will not believe this. It is not true! You are not real!"

You do not need to hurt, my darling, the voices say, even as she pulls away. Let it go, let it pass. Life has let you go, little one … now it is your turn. Every syllable caresses her, reassuring, soothing, patient.

Elise shakes her head all the more, finding the words not soothing but horrifying. "If life has given up on me, I … I have not given up on life! I will not surrender myself to this yawning sea of souls; I will fight it," she tells the voice that call for her. Further, she backs away now until she is pressed up against the very blade she fell dead with. "No … no … if it takes me forever, I will leave this place, even if it means walking the world as a ghost!"

The specific words fade, but the gentle tone remains, still loving, but now tinged with sorrow and regret. The soft call keeps tugging at her brain, while the poodle curls up on her macabre raft, huddled miserably around her sword.

After some time passes and she is more able to deal with the feelings that attempt to chip at her resolve, shaken, the poodle lifts her head up again. She stares at her sword and searches for her own reflection in its metal. "My sword. Not always the same, but still, always there when I needed it … "

Her reflection in the darkened steel wavers, streaked and distorted by the ichor that covers the blade, no matter how she tries to wipe it off. Her own face seems pale and gray, as if she were becoming like the souls in the sea.

Minutes, hours, perhaps years pass, and the insistent tug on her mind loses its gentleness, transforming into a simple wave of longing, stripped of all other emotion. The hands of the dead stroke at the sides of the insect, and the poodle realizes that the corpse is slowly, but inevitably, sinking into the waves.

In this timeless oblivion Elise sits staring at her own fading reflection, knowing not what else to do. The pervasive and draining depression this place casts on all who are trapped here gnaws at her energy, sapping it away slowly. Her time is spent reviewing her short life as she drifts through the sea. She remembers her family, the time spent at the academy, and the war. People too she recalls, and the memory of Sabel strikes her strangely. Even alive, she was dealing with lost souls that regretted the way they had died. Color in the face of hopelessness, she smiles knowing that she helped free her tortured spirit to rest. This simple memory brings her to realize something, and finding her strength, she sits up again. "I am not finished," she tells the endless sea. "I saved one soul, and I can save my own. Sunala! I am not finished here!"

Something drops onto the corpse, behind Elise, causing the entire thing to rock precariously. "Lady de Bellefeuille." The voice, distinct, masculine, and eerie only in that it is so very normal, contains a hint of amusement in it.

"Who is there?" asks Elise, her voice sounding tired now. Calling out against this fate, this endless sea has drained her. So much time has passed, she finds she cannot even remember when she arrived. Slowly she turns her head around to face whomever has landed upon her dreadful craft.

A black bat, wearing black clothing, stands some ten feet or so away from her on the bug's corpse. He looks at her with intensely green eyes, and despite the dark coloration of his clothing and fur, everything about him seems vibrantly alive, in contrast to the gray world all around her. "What are you doing here?" he asks her curiously.

All at once the poodle brings herself to her feet finally letting go of the sword she has held for so long. "I … " Her eyes widen and she takes a step towards the man. "Oh! You … I … had come for you. Come back when the dreams began again, to find you." Her head lowers to stare at the deck and she holds her faded hand out to show him. "But, I was unsuccessful. I perished fighting this creature I now drift on."

"No, you didn't." The bat frowns at her, then takes a few paces forward to lift her hand, showing it to her. The fingers are as white as ever, the fur distinct and curly. "You're not dead, Lady de Bellefeuille." He gestures with his other hand towards the sea of souls all around. "Now, them … they're dead."

She jumps a little as her hand is taken up to be shown to her. The poodle looks at her hand and notices how it is not as her face appeared and she moves her gaze to look into the Eeee's eyes. "Then, I did not die beneath this creature? Have I been drawn into another trick, one that even has my death as a lure?" She searches his face for a moment before her other hand reaches to touch it. "How, how is it you are still with me? Did you not … " Her eyes leave his face and glance to the waters around her. She gasps quietly and gazes back to him. "Are you … ?"

Releasing her fingers, the Eeee rubs his head with his hand. "No, I'm not dead either. If we were dead, we'd be in the sea with them." He gestures around again, then another frown crosses his face. "At any rate, I think they are the dead. If they're real, they're dead." He looks suddenly weary. "Lady de Bellefeuille, you have the most unsettling effect on my dreams. They make perfect sense until you show up in them." He sits rather abruptly on top of the carapace, for the moment too absorbed by his own thoughts to respond to her other queries.

Elise drops to her knees beside the Eeee and folds her hands in her lap. She stares at him like this, unable to say anything for the time being. She can only keep watching him. It has been so long, long even now that she is beginning to recall time. It has been years.

While the poodle gazes at him, the bat stares, brooding, at the gray sea. Eventually, he says, "Why did you say you thought you were dead? This creature killed you?" He glances at the inert corpse beneath them. "It hardly seems in a position now to do any killing."

"I battled it and during the course of the fight, it gave me grievous injury. I succumbed to my wounds and I next awoke here clutching my sword and riding this corpse. We killed each other you see, so that is perhaps why we float here," answers Elise in an absent tone the hints she is not fully paying attention. For a moment her eyes drop to regard the body before she looks up at the Eeee again. "Although, it is odd to me that I move while it only lays here lifelessly."

A half-smile curves on his face for a moment. "I suppose it should be of some comfort to me that your dreams stop making sense when I arrive. On the other hand, perhaps that just means we're a bad influence on each other." He inhales. "You're not awake now, Lady de Bellefeuille. This is a dream. So you did not 'awake here' … you started dreaming here. Where were you when you fought this monster?"

A sigh escapes the poodle. "Perhaps I would remember that more, were I not inclined to rest when I sleep." She smiles a little and reaches over to trace the edge of the bat's wing. "I was last in Blakat's domain in an attempt to reach the goddess herself and oppose her, and find you."

As she touches his wing, he turns his head to look at her again, large green eyes seeming to glow, the color brilliant in a colorless world. "Find me by opposing Blakat?" He tilts his head quizzically. "Why… ?" The word trails off as he lets the thought go uncompleted.

The hand leaves the bat's wing as he turns to look at Elise. She stares back at him for a quiet moment before she lifts that same hand to gesture off into the endless expanse of ocean. "I am here because I possess some special link to this dream realm. I believe the one we spoke of last time, if you recall our last meeting, wishes me to assist the other here in releasing him from his bonds. However … once I learned of this and ceased marching on because it seemed what I should do, I found other objectives. I do not know if this man or god, or whatever he is, is even preferable to the Sisters. So, I was not certain what to do … " She turns her head to look out in the expanse herself now. "I met you, too. Maybe it was all something I dreamed … maybe we have not met before … but when I thought I lost you, I said I would find you. I promised you that. However, I did not know how to find you. So I continued opposing the Sisters when I returned here in hopes bringing them down would find you … "

"I know of the Boomer that hit Babel. I thought you died in it, and that is when my dreams ended. But I returned here again and … oh … I did not know what to do. So I kept going despite it all, to maybe save the others trapped here and stop this madness … " She sighs again and turns back to look into the Eeee's eyes. "I suppose what I am really trying to say, despite all my rambling, is … I am glad to see you again."

When she drops her hand, his gaze flicks to follow it for a moment, before returning his attention to her face. He makes no move to interrupt her, listening quietly while she speaks her piece. Once she finishes, he nods slightly. "I remember our previous encounter, Lady de Bellefeuille." A wry smile twists his face. "The last one was unforgettable, in, alas, more ways than one. I did not die when the Boomer struck Babel, but a great many people I knew did. I felt it when it happened. All those people – dying." His eyes darken, and he turns away from the poodle, gazing across the sea of lost souls. He remains silent for a long moment, not responding to the rest of what she said.

After a brief nod of understanding, Elise watches the bat's face as he gazes into the waters. All those people dying. She remembers the feeling, too. The pain of a thousand deaths arcing through her and then nothing. Uncertain of what one says to such a feeling, she decides she would rather not comment on it. Instead she moves closer to him, and leans against him, reaching over to hold his hand comfortingly. "We must remember, that we are still alive. You reminded me here … and allow me to remind you here now. If you live in our world than maybe I can still help you. Has anything changed? Will you still not tell me your name?" Her eyes close now and she lets herself be held up by him. "Why does this dream persist now, I also cannot help but wonder? If the heart of Babel was obliterated then were the creators of this nightmare not taken with it? If they were, what keeps this dream together now? I wish I knew."

He does not draw back from her touch, but his body seems tense as wound wire when she contacts him, and it does not relax as she speaks. For a long time after she finishes, he says nothing. Then, finally, in a low voice, he says, "They're my people's gods, Lady de Bellefeuille. They are my gods. Do you understand what that means? They may be cruel, capricious, malicious, and indifferent, but they are the only gods we have. Nothing to compare to a boomer. I know. But opposing them? A man does not oppose his own gods and live. Do you understand that?"

After getting the words out, he at last relaxes to a degree, a soft sigh forced from him. "Or is that just one of those things that only makes sense when you are not here?" he murmurs, almost too low to hear.

The woman frowns greatly at this comment. Still, she does not remove her hand from his. "Are you so certain these are your gods? I do not truly believe I am fighting gods any longer. I believe that I face men of some sort and that they have created this to serve themselves. Perhaps the gods created are simply likenesses used by them; perhaps they have become powers free of their creators. I do not know so much. It is something I am trying to figure out while I battle them in this dream … " She opens her eyes now and turns them to look in his eyes again. "They, whomever they are, use us like toys. You saw how I crumpled here on this craft or how I was swayed by my own aspect. They seek to control our minds here and I cannot find them to have any powers beyond that. They threaten us with all manner of temptation and horror, but it is not real. It seems to be only a device to trick us and control us through our dreams … and thus, in our lives. A, dastardly plan to control people. It makes sense now."

"Isn't that what gods are for? Controlling people?" He does not meet Elise's gaze, staring across the vacant sea. For a moment, the whisper of indistinct voices seems louder, rippling across their morbid craft like a breeze. He shakes his head, closing his eyes, then turns to face the poodle again. "Did those creating this realm die in Rephidim's attack?" he says, rephrasing her earlier question. "Until now, I had thought so. But … I have been here before. I've had this dream before. Several times in the last few years, since the attack. Always a little different, but it never had you in it before. They didn't die with the House – not all of them, at any rate. Perhaps it weakened them – thinned their ranks – but people can be replaced."

Elise shakes her head slowly. "Gods are not to be used by people, at least, that is not what I believe. They are a source of faith in something bigger than oneself. Something one believes in that is beyond our own pettiness and limitations. To use a god's name as a tool is … ," she frowns gravely, " … the manner of heretics." Hearing herself speak those words causes the poodle to shake her head slightly. This time it is she who stares into the expanse quiet for a time. After some time passes she begins speaking again. "So, it was the Babelite guild house that was behind this, at least in part? They must be stopped, for with Ashdod weakened, their intentions may be purely for their own gain. Maybe it is they who wish to be gods … " She sighs softly again and turns her head back to the man. "I dreamed of your suffering, over, and over," she tells him, frowning again. "You had a part in this creation?"

He shakes his head. "This … thing … was no formal Guild action. I cannot imagine the Collegia Esoterica would ever approve such an action." He smiles wryly. "But to say that it was not approved by the House is not to say that no members of the House would have a hand in it. Surely even your own Temple has members who act in ways not explicitly approved by the leadership?"

"Oh, I had imagined it was not approved. Simply because it is not approved does not mean a house could not support it. I simply meant, that was by and large a center of their power. Perhaps they have more," says Elise as she returns to leaning against the Eeee. "Corruption is everywhere. It only spreads because some refuse to oppose it … I will oppose it here." She glances up at him again. "What of you? If you will not act to stop it, at least tell me what you know."

"That includes how you know so much of what was occurring, who was and is involved, and their locations. You must understand you are as much a tool as your gods' names, and you should cooperate, because you will only suffer more for your inaction in the future," she adds.

He shrugs slightly, chuckling. "Dear lady, I've already told you everything I know about this place – which, I dare say you realize, is not nearly enough. It's not even enough for me to determine the why of this plot, much less how I – or any other – might ruin it." He sighs at her added inquiry. "As I've said before, I simply knew that this was a place created by mages, and a certain inkling of what was desired of me by … something. Asking how I know is like – asking how you know how to breathe, or how to make sounds. It's just something that I could tell."

"Perhaps I had forgotten. It had been so long and I did not give this plot much mind after it had ceased." The poodle bites her lip and considers for a moment before continuing. "Power would seem the most obvious goal. Through control here they can sway our lives and perhaps eventually point us to some end they have in mind. Or perhaps they seek to reshape Morp- … Ah, yes. Morpheus. From what another has told me he seems to be real in some fashion, not simply a myth. Given he is the God of Dreams, that would explain this whole situation, although I cannot be certain if he is more or less real than the Sisters to be found here. I do know the planet Morpheus has been sealed. Perhaps their intentions lay there, for the planet seems to be reshaping itself and mountains lay beyond the Gateway Tower. If we weaken their powers here … perhaps their control there would falter and the planet could be entered again."

The bat blinks at this revelation. "What use would another planet be in all of this?" he murmurs. "I wonder if we've a triumvirate of powers here … your Morpheus, the Kindly Ones, and the mages who have brought them together."

One of her hands leaves the Eeee's and moves to rest on his shoulder so Elise can prop herself up and get a better look at his face. "An entire planet would be quite a conquest, actually. As I said, the land appears to have changed. I cannot help but wonder if it is related to this dream, and is part of the dream creators' intentions. Perhaps the Morpheus she spoke of is in fact the planet Morpheus, for it is indeed bound." While speaking, she searches his face carefully, at last resting her gaze on his eyes again. "Mm, what manner of Eeee are you?" she asks him, off-topic.

He smiles wryly again. "I'm not accustomed to plots involving the seizure of worlds. The political maneuvering I see typically involves the control of individuals, rather than just raw land." He lifts one hand to touch the wrist of her hand which rests on his shoulder, then adds, "Just your garden-variety omnivorous Eeee, I'm afraid. I hope you are not disappointed."

"I believe this plot is sufficient to encompass both control of a world and the manipulation of people, but I do not know how the two could be linked. They would appear on the surface to be unrelated – but if they were, it would be a plot with a considerable side effect either way. I am certain the plan is quite inspired for whatever it would work out to upon completion. However, I do not plan to let it be completed. I will discover what the purpose is behind it all and do something to hinder it to the best of my abilities," says Elise. She squeezes his shoulder and hand before letting her head rest upon his arm again. "But I suppose it is all something I can consider later. It has been four years since we last met, and to be quite honest, even this sea of the dead seems special now. I never imagined I would ever fall for an Eeee … but here I am, none the less."

"A plot with as many convolutions as this one seems to would likely have an equal number of vulnerabilities. Unless it is hydra-like, ruining one might do the trick for them all," he muses softly, then flicks his ears back, considering her last statement. Another wry, gentle smile forms on his face, and he says, "With lost souls as my only competition, I suppose it's no wonder I look appealing at the moment." He squeezes her hand lightly.

"Do not be so hard on yourself. Despite the glamour placed upon me by Inala, you told me something I will never forget." She smiles a little now and closes her eyes. "Now, here alone in this dismal sea on a floating corpse … think I can safely ask you this again. Was it my glamour that brought you to say what you did, or was it indeed you who said those words? How do you feel now that you see my blade bloodied, my form clad in the armor of my country, and this dead thing my opponent? You may even hear the dead call for me here … for it is true that I have killed Eeee. I was in Ashdod for a time, not long ago, so I can also say I helped them. How … do you feel about me?"

The black-furred bat reaches out one hand to cup his fingers beneath the poodle's chin, his eyes studying her face with their customary intensity. He speaks a couple of unintelligible words, the cadence half-chanting, and then blinks, shaking his head. He says, softly, with the air of one reciting from memory, "'As lovely as your form is to look upon, Elise, and even more delightful to embrace, remember this: it is the intimacy with your mind that I have treasured most about this evening.' Is this what you ask if I meant, Lady de Bellefeuille? I did, and no glamour forced me to it."

The insides of Elise's ears pinken noticeably despite her attempts to keep some semblance of composure through this reunion. "Yes, that. And other words," she answers in a soft almost inaudible voice for the average ear. Her hand reaches up from his shoulder and traces the fingers on the hand that brushes against her chin. "It is a shame you are most unreachable to me in life … "

"It's a senseless war between Ashdod and Rephidim, and I think you know it. To claim the refuge that you only did what your country asked of you is as facile as my contending that I would only serve the Sisters because they are my gods. We make choices, and we cannot be so childish as to claim we do not understand the consequences." He leans towards her, his muzzle just inches from hers. "Tomorrow's choices are not yet clear – for you or I. But we are the unlikeliest of allies, Lady de Bellefeuille. Please, take care to remember that what drives us apart is at least as powerful as anything that brings us together." His fingers tense briefly against her fur, then he drops his eyes.

Elise's lifted hand freezes through his words, moving only when he finishes speaking. She places her hand at her side and turns her head away to watch the endless sea. "The war is pointless, yes, and it has always been. Perhaps it has even dragged into vain futility on the part of Ashdod … And to think it began with the Boomer, which later was dropped by a rogue captain on Ashdod. Nothing seems to have been accomplished beyond slavery ending, which I certainly am not thrilled about, and this bitter useless hostility … I, too would like to see it end. But I do not know how to stop it – not yet, anyway. Perhaps someday I will be in position to do so … and then I will try." She lowers her head to stare into the water. "As much as I would like to do as I am told and have the responsibility lifted from my shoulders, I know that would simply lead to ruin. This, is not a time we can be led about … I will act, and here I will see this scheme resolved … to what I can only hope is our mutual benefit."