A shadowed figure steps onto the platform. Ebon cloth billows about him from under the night sky. A gloved hand reaches up and pulls the hood from his head…

A smile full of sharp ivory teeth reflects in the low light. He steps out onto the center of the platform. A rustle and the cloak falls to the stone floor. There Jarik stands, taking in the night air.

A few moments later another piece of cloth falls to the platform. Muscles that haven't been used in some time begin to pull on the bone once again. The newly formed muscle tissue aches and burns as it's stretched.

Jarik stretches his right arm. He moves silently on the platform, imagining himself wielding a sword in his right hand. A slide to the left… then the right… blade up… duck under… strike.

Never overextend. Never expose yourself to attack. Catch the attack, let it slide against the blade… use its force to drive your blow home. Move, glide… dance the dance of death.

After a few minutes of practice Jarik stops and takes a deep breath. "Not bad, Fireclaw," he muses, "Stiff, but better. Soon I should be able to wield a sword again. Even if it's this crude weapon I now carry."

Jarik gathers his cloak and in one swift move swings it around to his back and locks the clasp in place. "Now… I believe it's time to end this little game someone is trying to play with me." He smiles coldly.

Jarik looks out over the city expanse. He chuckles to himself, "At first I wondered how I would get home again. Now I see… like it or not… this world needs me. It's time to show them just what a knight can do."

Amber eyes scan the city… He thinks. o O {Wait… what's that? That spire… It appears I have an audience. Hmm. Perhaps it's just a nosey citizen… or perhaps not… I wonder.}

A stir of the breeze, and the "spire" shifts just a bit. It would seem it has wings. If it had not already caught the knight's attention, it might have been able to simply blend in with the gargoyles and grotesqueries.

Jarik chuckles to himself and waves to his watcher…

Jarik thinks . o O {Tis of no matter at this time. Seeing me practice? No danger in that.}

There's a gasp from the direction of the not-quite-so-well-hidden watcher, then a reply of, "Hmph. All right, so you spotted me… " A pair of dark wings snap out, and the "spire" is airborne.

Jarik crosses his arms, albeit painfully, and watches as the spire takes flight…

A humanoid bat touches down at the opposite end of the circular platform – a brown-furred bat with long raven-black hair and dressed in matching black linens with trim in midnight blue. She bows. "Good evening, good Knight."

Jarik smiles with amusement and bows. "Good eve to you M'lady. If I may ask as to why you were watching me a moment ago? I'm certainly no one of importance here."

The bat laughs. "'No one of importance!' But I heard you – You are a knight … and this world needs you. And, I might ask, what is a knight without a bard to sing his praises?" she adds with a wink. "Allow me to introduce myself. Vielanika Nightsong, traveller and musician, gatherer and teller of tales."

Jarik chuckles to himself, "A bard… What sort of tales do you tell, Lady Vielanika?"

The bat waves a gloved hand. "Oh, you know – the usual. To be quite frank, I quite often have notions that someday my adventures should be worth telling tales about, but … ahem. Now then. You must be Jarik – the Exile – yes?"

Jarik shifts his weight to one leg. "Indeed. How do you come to know my name?"

Vielanika winks again. "Good sir knight, you didn't seem about to introduce yourself, so … I suppose I just had to do it for you, hmm?"

Jarik chuckles again, "As I said… I'm no one of importance. Or at least I thought not. Where have you heard my name before?" His mood seems to become a bit more serious.

The bat sits back on the stone bannister. "To be perfectly frank … though perhaps a bit obscure until I have a chance to explain … that's the whole trouble. You ARE no one of importance, so to speak. But I've been hearing a lot about you lately … and the sort of things that nobody would be bothering to tell rumors about unless you had a reputation to be tarnished."

The bat shrugs. "I WOULD so much like to put on airs that I'm simply well connected and have mysterious ways of obtaining inside information … but," she sighs, "that wouldn't be true, and you might call me on my bluff."

Jarik looks around for a place to sit. He nods quietly. "That has already begun, I'm afraid. Someone has already tried to impugn my honor."

The fox's mood has gone from cheerful to rather morose. "They've done a good job so far too.

The bat laughs. "And that's what's so curious about it! That some Ensign in the Temple has some honor to be impugned! So … I just had to find out what all the buzz was about."

Jarik's eyes look deeply into the bat's eyes. "There is more going on here than the public knows. I intend to uncover the truth and that has someone frightened."

Jarik interlaces his fingers. "I have suspicions I know who is behind it. Just no evidence."

"Oh ho!" The bat wiggles her boots in the air, leaning back on the railing precariously. "Sounds like you've gotten off to a royal start!" She leans forward, setting her boot soles back down on the stone with a soft clap. "Who needs evidence? I live for unsubstantiated rumors. Do tell!"

Jarik shakes his head, "Unlike my backstabbing 'friends' here, I do not befoul someone's name without evidence."

Vielanika's shoulders slump. "Oh, pooh. You are principled, aren't you? I suppose one can't have it both ways… "

The bat gets a mischievous grin. "You could … give me a hint, though, couldn't you? You could just let me know what led you to your conclusions, and allow me to make my own. That wouldn't besmirch anybody's name. Just tell me the facts."

Jarik's eyes narrow, "What people think of me isn't as much a concern as to what people think of the person who they hurt along with me."

The bat hmms. "Oh … I wouldn't know about that. If the person you're talking about having hurt is the same person that I've heard said that you've hurt, then you might worry about someone else who might be inclined to hurt you on account of it. Surely you catch my meaning… "

Jarik waves a hand, "I'm more concerned with what they did to Lady Azhtar, than to me. And as for who… lets just say I have a suspicion one of the inquisitors is seeking… advancement."

Jarik tilts his head, "Someone seeks to do me harm? That's not a first. *chuckle*"

Vielanika claps a hand over her mouth. "A name! He mentions a name! Here and I was just starting to have a little fun with all this dilly-dallying around the subject. In any case, I think it's quite evident someone wishes you ill … but the matter of who, how, and why … ahem. Well, obviously you already realize that's still a question."

Jarik almost snarls, "Lady Azhtar was the only person who treated me as a friend. Thanks to the certain someone, I've lost that."

The bat frowns. "Hmm," is all she comments.

Jarik shakes his head, "All she did was treat me with a little kindness. She does not deserve to be hurt like this." He sighs, "This is why I travel alone, RIGHT HERE. Everyone who becomes my friend gets hurt."

The bat rests her chin on one hand. "Hmm. Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don't believe you … ah … hmm."

Vielanika frowns. "Boy. THAT was a real confidence-builder," she mutters to herself.

"What I mean is," she says in a louder voice, "I'm pretty sure you've been set up. Anybody with half a mind can tell something fishy is going on. If only I could tell why."

"And if you're up against the big fellows then … well … more power to you," she adds with a grin and a punch in the air. "But be careful," she adds in a lower voice. "Game or not, these people get mean if things don't go their way."

Vielanika stands up. "I'll be around. I wish I could be of some help … but … Well, if I find out something useful, I'll let you know," she adds with a wink. "Just let me know as soon as you have some evidence, then? I have a hankering for juicy stories… " she flashes a toothy grin, "even if they're true!" With that, she snaps out her wings and shoots into the air, soon lost in the darkness.

Jarik nods to the bat, "Will do, M'lady. And thanks for believing in this knight," he calls out.

Jarik turns and walks back into the temple. His mood has risen a bit… someone does believe him. Now… to find Azhtar.

Jarik finds his way through the maze of corridors to Lady Azhtar's chambers…

The lady cheetah's quarters are not entirely spacious, but comfortable, and certainly noteworthy for someone of Azhtar's status. At Jarik's knock, the door opens, revealing a golden face that regards him with emerald green eyes.

The door abruptly snaps shut again.

Jarik knocks again, "M'lady. Please. I just wish to talk."

There is no answer from inside.

A couple of lupine guards march down the corridor, passing by. One glances in Jarik's direction briefly, but says nothing. Around a bend, and they are gone once more.

Jarik's voice grows softer, "I just want to apologise for everything… All you did was treat a poor exile with kindness… And how do you get repaid?" He stops for a moment and takes a breath, "Because my actions here threatened someone… in trying to destroy me… they hurt you too. I'm sorry M'lady… I'm so sorry. They hurt your and my honor… and cost me something even dearer, your friendship. I'm going to do all I can to clear your name… Then I'll be gone from your life forever." Jarik swallows, "Your kindness meant alot to this knight, M'lady… It's not something I'll soon forget. I… wish things didn't turn out this way… but." He stops and just slumps against the wall.

Jarik says, "I… hope you find all you want in life… " His voice drops, "Goodbye."

The door creeps open.

Jarik pushes himself off the wall. His eyes look at the door one more time. With a soft sigh he turns and begins to walk away.

Jarik stops when he hears the creak. Without looking back he speaks, "You've got a sweet soul, M'lady. You deserve so much more than this."

A pair of emerald-green eyes follow Jarik's movement, a tear forming at the edge of one.

Jarik's head lowers, "I'm sorry that knowing me has hurt you like this. I'm so sorry." His head turns and a single amber eye looks back, "Thank you for being a friend. I just wish I could do more to end this." His eyes close, "You did not deserve this."

The cheetah retreats back into her chamber.

A single tear trickles down Jarik's cheek, "When I met you… it was the first time I didn't feel so alone. They've taken that now, too."

Jarik's eyes open and he looks to the door and the cheetah beyond.

Jarik holds out a hand, hoping she'll take it…

The cheetah looks back, and at the hand, then up to Jarik. At last, she takes it, though her hold is unsteady and tentative, as if she's ready at any moment to pull away and run for dear life.

Jarik's eyes look into hers. Not the hard eyes of a warrior, but the gentle eyes of someone who's been so alone for a long time. Gently, he repeats the motion that she had done when they first met. He brings her hand to his muzzle and nuzzles it gently. He softly kisses the back of her hand and smiles a little at her. "Thank you… for being there."

Azhtar's eyes shy away, unable to meet Jarik's for more than but an instant.

Jarik steps forward quetly and gives her a gentle hug. "You did no wrong, M'lady. Don't feel ashamed for being kind."

Azhtar gasps at the unexpected embrace, her eyes snapping wide.

Jarik steps back into the hallway and lowers his gaze, "I'm sorry… goodbye, M'lady"

The cheetah pauses a moment, her hand falling free from Jarik's grasp, her gaze slowly raising as she regards him.

Jarik looks at the floor, his heart feeling more pain than any sword wound ever dealt him.

Without warning, suddenly the cheetah dashes forward, wrapping her arms around Jarik and pressing against him, tears streaming down her cheeks.

In a fumbling motion, so unlike the grace she usually manages to exude, she presses her muzzle to Jarik's.

"An interesting performance," a voice says from down the corridor. It belongs to a bone-white poodle in long purple robes, around which have been hung a sash bearing many glittering bits of regalia – above all the sparkling medal-squares hangs the amethyst star of the Bridge. "Perhaps there is more wishful thinking than truth in my designated successor's protests." Maleficos frowns at the perilously embraced Ensign.

This time, the fox's eyes widen. He wraps his arms around the cheetah and hugs her gently. Then his ears focus on the Poodle.

The cheetah gasps, and lets go, staggering backward, collapsing against the wall of the corridor. She hides her face from the poodle and the fox, covering it with both hands.

Maleficos's gaze sweeps over Azhtar, dismissing the slave cheetah as unworthy of consideration, then back to Jarik. He taps a baton with a curlique of metal at the tip against one hand. "Need I remind the young lovers that the Temple is in a period of mourning for our beloved leader, the Captain-Astromancer?" he says censoriously. "Please. Do try and conduct yourself with more decorum, Ensign."

Jarik turns to the poodle, "Please… leave her alone. She's been put through enough." His voice isn't defiant… just sad.

The cheetah can take no more. She retreats into her chambers again, the door closing behind her.

Jarik speaks softly, "She's a gentle soul who's only crime was to treat an exile with kindness. Nothing more, sir."

Jarik nods, "I know of the Captain-Astronomer's death… He looks directly in to the poodle's eyes. I even have suspicions of who paid to have it done, sir."

The poodle's eyebrows raise. "She… Is a slave. She answers to Inquisitor Melchizedek. Who is ultimately, as well, your superior, *Ensign*. I expected one of claimed discipline and knightly ordainment to behave with more understanding of our… rules." He twists the tip of the baton slightly. "I shall speak with him."

Maleficos pauses in mid-turn. "Suspicions, Ensign? Have you… Evidence? Proof? Or are you merely attempting to distract me from moral deficiency?" His voice and eyes turn darker.

Jarik shakes his head, "Suspicions… you forget, sir. As a knight and paladin, empathy is second nature to me… Some can be as good as evidence… and many will lead to evidence, sir."

Jarik says, "When the period of mourning is at an end… I will speak to Inquisitor Melchizedek on my theory that the real assassin, is someone right in the temple… not the Darkside, sir."

"And now you claim magical ability to sniff out murderers," the bone-white poodle says with increasingly steely voice. "Beware, Ensign. Deceit leads you down the path which is forgotten. Do not point your finger until you have proof." He muses. "Indeed, I am… most disappointed to know that one of the Inquisitor's subordinates engages in rumor-mongering."

Jarik speaks calmly, trying to keep his emotions in check. "I believe… it is an attempt to have Melchizedek removed as well… No rumors, sir. I've told no one save you. I won't press anything until I have evidence. I just think all possibilities should be looked at, sir."

Jarik says, "I will endeavor to keep you up to date on any real evidence I find if you wish, sir?"

"Perhaps I shall have him speak with you about… How information is properly handled here. You seem to have acquired some very unhealthy habits in that regard," Maleficos says sharply. "You are dismissed, Ensign. Do not allow me to find you playing the love-sick puppy outside the queen's chambers again. I would be highly… Disappointed. And few survive my disappointment."

Jarik shakes his head, "I fear for the safety of all inquisitors at this time. It's my duty to protect you and Melechizedek."

The purple-robed Maleficos turns his gaze down the corridor as if Jarik had ceased to be of importance, and begins walking down to the library.

Jarik bows to the Inquisitor, "I cannot rest if your lives are threatened."

Jarik says, "Good day to you, sir."

At this last comment, however, the poodle stops and says very quietly… Dangerously. "Beware, lest you be tried for disrespect, Ensign. You are the least of the Temple. Leave to those better born and trained that which is their work." He continues.

Jarik speaks to Lady Azhtar's door, "Good eve to you M'lady. I will restore your honor… I promise… I swear on everything I believe." He turns and walks down the corridor. Once the Inquisitor is out of range, he smiles to himself, "Bingo."

The corridor turns silent again. If anything, it seems darker.

Jarik touches his muzzle as he walks toward the Lieutenant's office. He feels oddly happy… not terror this time. It's as if he found a part of himself he lost. Part of him may be buried in the rubble of the past still but it has finally begun to dawn.

A burly wolf marches down the hall, approaching Jarik, reaching the door just as the fox approaches. The Lieutenant turns, looking the fox up and down, then scanning his face.

Jarik bows slightly, "Good eve, sir."

Jarik's face is neutral, not betraying anything he's feeling at this time.

The wolf sniffs. "And I gather you must be having a good evening as well." He opens the door.

Jarik's ears twitch, "Sir?"

The wolf's ears flick, and he turns about. "I'm a very busy man. If you have something, then out with it."

Jarik says, "May I speak with you a moment, sir?"

Jarik nods, "I know. I'll try not to take much of your time, sir."

Jarik says, "I'm worried that the real culprit behind the assasination is inside the temple, sir. Not in Darkside."

The Lieutenant furrows his brow. He pauses moment, regarding Jarik.

Jarik bows his head, "I know I'm just an Ensign, sir. But, I fear for the inquisitor's safety. I thought I should speak with you."

Abruptly, the wolf grabs hold of Jarik by the head hair and ear, and yanks him headlong into the chamber, giving him a good boot to the tail to get him the rest of the way in.

Grumbling, the wolf steps in, slamming the door shut behind him. "Have a SEAT, Ensign," he growls.

The chamber is sparsely furnished, if it can even be called that. A footlocker would seem to be the most immediately available "seat". That and a half barrel and a rolled mat.

Jarik takes a seat quietly.

"First of all," the wolf growls, "one thing you've got to learn around these parts is a bit of TACT. Tell me – How many others have you been announcing this revelation to?"

Jarik says, "I have no evidence, outside of my observations. Only an Inquisitor, sir."

The wolf rubs his hand over his face, mussing his head-fur. "Only … ONLY … ONLY AN INQUISITOR?!?"

Jarik says, "The one I suspect knows more than he's saying, sir."

The wolf gathers his composure, clasping his hands together. "Please, Ensign Jarik. Could you name this Inquisitor for me?"

Jarik says, "I don't like naming people without evidence, sir… "

The wolf grabs Jarik by the lapels. "I don't CARE what you LIKE, Ensign! WHO HAVE YOU BEEN TELLING THIS TO?!?" His roar echoes around the room. By his breath, it's evident he has been eating sausages.

Jarik says, "But, I've been wondering about Arch Inquisitor Ceasar since the attack on Inquisitor Melchizedek. I told Inquisitor Maleficos."

The Lieutenant abruptly lets go of Jarik, and steps back a couple of paces. He gasps. "You … you … you went to the Arch Inquisitor Supreme … with your suspicions? Your SUSPICIONS?"

The wolf covers his face. "Pardon me. You don't perchance happen to ENJOY sitting on one of those badly upholstered chairs, do you?"

Jarik tilts his head, "I do not know anyone here… I was concerned others may be in danger."

Jarik says, "No, sir."

The Lieutenant clears his throat. "I'm terribly sorry that this hasn't been explained to you yet… " He clears his throat. "But, you see, there's a certain hierarchy – a chain of command, if you will – that is followed here."

Jarik's shoulders slump, "I was asked to serve the temple as payment. When Inquisitor Melchizedek was attacked, I became worried that it wouldn't be the first. I had no evidence. So I've just observed. I didn't know who to talk to about some things I've noticed. I'm sorry."

"You already know well and good that the Captain-Astromancer is above us all," the wolf nods. "Below him is the Bridge, and the Temple is divided into various sub-directorates." A pause, and the wolf adds, "Of the Inquisitors, you of course realize that the Arch Inquisitors are above them … and the Arch Inquisitor Majores above them … and they ALL answer to the ONE Arch Inquisitor Supreme."

Jarik nods silently.

"Now," the wolf adds, "Where do you – or, for that matter, myself – fit into this?" he adds, while holding his hand up in the air. Abruptly it sinks to the floor. "We're WAYYYYYY down here."

Jarik nods again.

"And YOU," the wolf thrusts a finger at Jarik, "answer to ME, no matter how 'waaaaayyyyy' down here I am, got that?"

Jarik says, "Understood, sir."

The wolf wipes his brow. "Good. I hope the Arch Inquisitor Supreme just shrugged you off. I don't want to have to explain this one."

Jarik nods slightly.

"Now … you WERE sufficiently polite and humble and all that in the Inquisitor Supreme's presence, weren't you? You didn't try to correct him on anything, did you?" the wolf asks.

Jarik says, "Would you like to know what I've observed and theorized?"

The wolf drums his fingers on his chin, muttering to himself. "Persistent. Got to hand him that. The lad is persistent."

Jarik shakes his head, "I told him what I thought and saw. I wasn't defiant. I told him I just had suspicions, no evidence and that I was concerned for the saftey of all inquisitors and that's why I had been observing."

The wolf points at Jarik again. "That had better be all. Anyway, out with it. I can see you're going to pop like a bubble if you don't get to share your conspiracy theories."

Jarik says, "You remember the assassination attempt I stopped, correct?"

The wolf sighs. "Yes, yes, I certainly remember that. And the Arch Inquisitor Majoris Melchizedek remembers that as well, I assure you. On with it… " He waves his hand toward Jarik in a "come along" motion.

Jarik says, "It was because the temple had taken action in the Darkside, or so I heard. It was a weak attempt, but an attempt. Now… what if one of the people in the temple wanted to get rid of an inquisitor? It would be hard to do… especially if he was close to the other's position… How would it be done? By hiring someone to kill another far away from that position… Surely no one would suspect them then? Then… tell me… how would the temple respond?"

The Lieutenant shrugs. "Ah. I think you've lost me."

Jarik says, "The first assumption would be that the Darkside funded the assassination?"

Jarik says, "Considering recent events."

Jarik says, "Would not the temple level the Darkside in revenge?"

The wolf holds up a hand. "Now, one moment. Darkside isn't some nation we're talking about. It's a really sleazy part of town."

Jarik says, "I know. I've been there."

Jarik says, "Not everyone there is a criminal. Many are just people trying to survive."

The wolf raises his eyebrow. "Then they'd do a lot better by moving out."

"So," the Lieutenant says, "you're trying to tell me that someone just wants to … make Darkside look BAD?"

Jarik says, "It's never that easy unfortunately, sir. I've travelled between worlds. It's hard to escape those places."

Jarik says, "Nono, not that simple."

The wolf snorts. "I certainly hope not. I was about to laugh in your face."

Jarik says, "The temple would retaliate. Most likely, the darkside would retaliate against that, true?"

The wolf sighs loudly. "Now, listen. I know you're terribly naive and all, but this isn't just about 'retaliation'. Well, at least, it didn't used to be."

Jarik listens.

"You see, there's sort of an … understanding. And you didn't hear it from me. If you can't pick this up on your own elsewhere, then I'm surprised anyway," the wolf adds. "Darkside gets away with much that you won't find in Rephidim proper. The Temple's reach can only extend so far. You might say we have a policy of … containment … regarding Darkside."

"But every once in a while, things get out of line," the wolf says. "You see, some high-falutin' thief gets to thinking he's a 'crime lord' or a 'big boss' or a 'grand hoo-haa-haa', and gets delusions of grandeur, fed by a bunch of his lackey henchmen."

Jarik nods and listens.

"And in order to keep proving to his lackeys that he's such a big shot, eventually he decides he has to make a strike against the 'establishment'. That would be us. Now, for the most part, the 'powers that be' in Darkside are fairly … organized. You may think it's just a land of chaos, but it's far more orderly than it looks on the surface. Just not a very /nice/ order," the Lieutenant clarifies.

"The theory is, they tend to like how things are. They like having their little fiefdoms. And when some pipsqueak decides he's going to topple all of this to make a point to his buddies … well, usually they take care of him before he gets too far." The wolf growls. "This time, they didn't. So, we had to send them a little reminder."

"That's what it was with the Two-Headed Vixen, the Open Arms and whazzisname's Exotic Herbs. Yes, we had it all quite planned out. The scum who run those joints are fairly low down on the pecking order, but they're just visible enough for people to take notice when they get squashed," the wolf grunts.

The Lieutenant cracks his knuckles and studies a wall. "Except that the 'message' wasn't good enough. You know what happened after that. This wasn't 'retaliation' from Darkside. This … is war."

Jarik says, "I see."

The wolf's gaze returns to Jarik. "And it's just going to get messier. But there's nothing to do about that now. If 'Darkside' – or anybody in there – sees that even the Captain-Astromancer can be taken out without any fear, then every half-shekel pipsqueak crime baron is going to start getting uppity and wanting to make HIS mark on Rephidim. THEN, grant you, we'll have genuine chaos."

"So, Ensign," the wolf growls, "don't fiddle with any of these notions about internal conspiracies or whatnot. We are fighting for Rephidim, for tradition, for all that is worthwhile about this land. It's light against darkness, good against evil, law against chaos. It's as simple and cut and dried as that. Muddying it up only distracts us from that."

Jarik tilts his head, "Then why the attempt to dishonor me, sir? I'm obviously very insignificant here. Why would ANYONE care about me?"

The wolf raises an eyebrow, then pats Jarik on the shoulder. "Ensign – Jarik, boy – I think you … are simply paranoid."

Jarik says, "Whether you beieve it or not, sir. I was 'set up' with Azhtar that night. Someone wants me gone."

"Now then … How about you head out and get some grub? Something cold to drink, too. The walk should do you good. Just … don't go sharing conspiracy theories with the Inquisitors, eh? And don't fret over Azhtar. We all understand about that. Hey. I can't blame you. I've had a few, er, thoughts myself." He adds in a whisper, "Just don't do it again."

Jarik looks at the wolf, "I saw my family and entire race destroyed, sir. I haven't lived this long by not watching what goes on."

The wolf rolls his eyes. "Umm-hmm." He grabs Jarik by the scruff of his neck. "Let me repeat myself – 'How about you head out and get some grub?'" He leads Jarik to the door.

Jarik shakes his head sadly at the wolf, "Lady Azhtar is my friend. She's the only one who has been kind to me. And look what it got her… dishonor in an attack on me. Whatever you think of me… Lady Azhtar is innocent of anything."

Jarik says, "As you wish, sir."

The wolf loses his patience. The door goes open. **BOOT** The fox goes out. The door shuts.

Jarik pulls his hood up and walks silently back to his room. He's not going to get any food, he can't eat feeling this way. He shakes his head. o O {All I do is hurt people. I try… and it fails. Perhaps this fox should have simply died then and there four years ago. I… I'm no paladin, no knight. I've failed T'Aris, my family, Azhtar, everyone.} His hand goes to the signature buckle on his shoulderstrap. The small Symbol of the Crydonian knight gleams for a moment, before it is torn off. He puts it away in his pocket and heads into his room.

Just as Jarik is about to head into his room, a spotted golden arm reaches out to stop him.

Jarik blinks?

Jarik turns to see just what grabbed him…

The arm belongs to a cheetah, but not one Jarik recognizes. The small one is barely more than a cub, and it's hard to tell whether the servant is male or female. A pair of big brown eyes blink up to Jarik, and one hand tugs insistently at his sleeve.

Jarik nods, "You want me to follow?"

The little cheetah blinks, then nodnodnodnodnods rapidly and emphatically, and tugs all the more.

Jarik nods to the little cheetah, "Then lead away… " He follows the cheetah…

The little cheetah leads Jarik down the twisting corridors of the Temple … along a path that seems increasingly familiar. After several more turns and long stretches, a passageway opens into a tall chamber…

Jarik looks around, recognizing the room.

The little cheetah pauses at the entrance to the chamber. The room is empty … save for a lone form in white linen who kneels at the shrine, flanked by racks of flickering candles that cast a jittery glow – the only movement to be seen in this ancient place.

Jarik watches silently. He moves, trying to get a better view of who it is… His stomach begins to sink…

The kneeling figure makes the sign of the star and anchor over her heart, and stands. The green-eyed cheetah regards Jarik with a solemn expression – unreadable. Only Jarik is before her eyes – The little cheetah has slipped away.

Jarik watches, "Azhtar… what is going on?"

Azhtar approaches Jarik, and reaches out toward the knight's hand.

Jarik offers his hand to her willingly…

Azhtar leads Jarik around the central column of the chamber, toward the darker tangle behind – the great shadow of the central structure overwhelming what little ambient light from the candles creeps around. The way leads past several hanging and broken cables, toward a recess not visible from the fore.

The cheetah reaches in and slides a panel aside, revealing flickering light from within. She beckons Jarik to step into the alcove.

Jarik follows Azhtar's motion. His heart making him trust her. Inside he goes.

Azhtar slides the panel shut behind Jarik, leaving him alone in the alcove. Inside is a metal table – no, some sort of container that now serves as one – upon which is a candlestick which illuminates the room, and a page of parchment with fine writing on its surface.

Jarik looks to the page.

Jarik's muscles are tense, his tail swishes back and forth rapidly.

"My dear Knight," the page begins, "I am sorry for doubting you. I have learned that things were not as I supposed them to be. I am fortunate to have friends such as you, and others within these temple walls… "

Jarik swallows.

"… but all does not bode well. Your behavior in the presence of the Arch Inquisitor Supreme was not received well. Inquisitor Melchizedek was given grief over what was perceived as insubordination, and he exclaimed that he would have you stripped of your position and sold off as a slave immediately… "

"… I dared to bid him to calm himself – something I am thankful he did, rather than reproach me for stepping beyond my station – and suggested an alternative: that you be reassigned to somewhere far from here… "

"… I do regret this. I do not make such a suggestion easily. You have a good heart – such a rarity not only within these temple walls, but within the entire city for all I know. But the Temple is not your place. You are not a soldier – Anyone can see that… "

"… I feel more for you than I can ever show, but ours is a doomed relationship that can never be … You have friends in more places than you know. Please, keep the secret. If you reveal it, many will die, and countless more will suffer… "

"… But this I can tell you. I serve Melchizedek and the Temple as a slave – not by my choice, but because it is my duty. To more than one… "

"… You will travel far, but you will not be alone. You will know your friends by the sign I made at the shrine – the sign of the star and the anchor … but with the star once more… "

"… To me, it speaks of what once was, what is now, and what may be yet again. Tell no one. Please, let me trust you in this. … "

Jarik takes a breath and continues.

"… Perhaps one day a star shall shine over our hearts again, but for now, we must go into our separate darknesses … I can leave you now with nothing but my friendship. That, and something which I hope may be of use to you to prove your innocence – if not to others, then at least to yourself. I remember nothing of the day when we are to have shared cups of wine. But a friend retrieved the very flask which contained a draught of that wine. Do not taste it. It is tainted… "

"… You will never be forgotten. Keep to your code, good Knight. Keep your honor, and do that which is right. No matter what happens, they cannot rob you of that."

And the page ends.

The chamber is empty, save for the candle, the secret letter, and the container on which they stand.

The fox stands there in silence… alone. He just keeps looking at the page. The pain he feels now is worse than anything he's ever felt. His hopes… his dreams… began to become true. The dawn on what he was… and could be had begun… only to be eclipsed again. He feels weighed with failure… the symbol in his pocket seems to increase in weight, in burden. His eyes close . o O {Why? Why can't just once things work? Why do I lose everyone around me? Can I have just one moment of my life be right? Can I just once… }

Jarik's right hand drops to his sword. With a motion it's drawn from it's sheath. "T'Aris!!!!" he screams, "Is this it??? It this all I will ever know? Am I a harbinger of death? Do I destroy all I touch???" His voice begins to break, "why couldn't you let me die you son of a … Why didn't you just leave me behind? " All his rage explodes and he hurls the sword against the wall. His body shakes violently, his ears flatten.

Jarik he grabs the note and snarls. He's about to shred it… but he can't. His heart won't let him destroy the final letter from Azhtar. As much as he wants to… as much as the hatred of what he is swells within him, he can't. Instead, he collapses to his knees and cries softly in the silence.

"Let it end… please… just let it end."

Jarik leans back and howls… screams… Is it from the past or is it from the present? It's the scream that his heart never stopped screaming the day his whole world changed. It's the scream of someone who feels helpless and trapped, buried in sorrow. A pain so extreme it sears and tears at the soul. It is the scream of utter loneliness.

The chamber echoes pitilessly with the fox's angstful scream. It offers him no consolation, no sympathy … no mercy.

Minutes pass… five? Ten? Who knows. Slowly Jarik stands and takes the container. He retrieves his sword. The fox lowers his head and goes to leave the alcove.

Jarik tucks the letter in his shirt and exits to face his destiny.