Three diverse figures – an equine-like Exile with wings and a single truncated horn, a poodle in the uniform of a Rephidim Templar, and a plainly-dressed Eeee with the chain of a mage around his neck – gather around one table. Even in this setting, they are out of the ordinary, but the clientele, accustomed to discretion, pays them little heed.

"Let me start by informing you of a possible threat on Caroban," begins Elise quietly. She glances between the two others at the table and nods slightly. "On my journey here, my airship was attacked. During this attack I recovered from a magic-induced coma, undoubtedly connected with my 'death' within the dreams. One of the attackers was taken prisoner and relayed to us his intentions. Apparently he was the victim of a group of mages – a Naga, an Eeee, and a Jupani – and he was quite adamant about their being College mages. They may possibly be here."

The Aeolun, Envoy, blinks at this news, and asks, "Where were these people supposedly attacked?" in a quiet voice.

As Elise speaks, the Eeee's vividly green eyes narrow. He glances from Envoy to the poodle, but interjects no comment, letting the Exile ask her question first.

Elise shakes her head. "That, I do not know. Given the circumstances, I was only able to perform a brief interrogation of the prisoner before I was required to assist in the repair efforts. However, I can tell you what they look like – and that he remembers them because they are 'in his dreams'. The Eeee is brown furred with a sphere-shaped white mark on the center of his forehead. The Naga is a gray and white diamondback sort. The Jupani is dark gray with a long muzzle and a white right hand."

"The date of the attack is also of some significance. If we translated his Vartan correctly, he said it occurred 'five storms ago' – five rainy seasons, five years," adds the Templar.

From the watery pathway running through a channel near their table, a column of water rises smoothly, taking the shape of a transparent serpent. Eddies and ripples pass through its body, and its blunt-nosed "head" is almost featureless, but it speaks, asking sibilantly, "May I take your ordersss?"

Envoy blinks out of her reverie, and asks the waiter, "What is fresh today?"

"We have fresh lobssster and Abaddonian hog, asss well asss Caroban yamsss and greensss from the gardensss. And, of coursssse, the daily sssspecial," the liquid being answers.

The poodle officer turns toward the water-snake and raises her eyebrows slightly. Stirred from her report, she takes a moment to gather her thoughts and switch to the matter of ordering.

"Mm, what is the special of the day?" inquires Elise of the water-snake.

"It is a ssssurprissse for the adventuroussss at heart, my lady," the waiter hisses.

"I wouldn't recommend it," the Eeee mage adds, shaking his head.

"I'll have the special," Envoy says, always looking for something new to try.

"That is certainly not me," says Elise. She smiles at the Eeee mage beside her before she continues. "I will have the Abaddonian hog, and … ," she peers at the snake a bit more closely, "water that does not move. In a glass."

"An exsssellent choisse," the waiter answers, while Cyprian winces and says simultaneously, "Really, I wouldn't recommend it."

Envoy looks to the Eeee, "You know what it is then?"

Meanwhile Elise folds her hands across her lap and leans back slightly. She watches the others quietly, seemingly taking a moment to relax a bit.

The waiter bobs his head to Elise, and Cyprian replies to Envoy, "Not specifically today, no. But it's normally a bad idea. Let me rephrase that: it is normally an elaborate, impressive, and dramatic bad idea." To the waiter, he orders, "I'll have -" he glances briefly to Elise, "- Caroban fruit salad. And water." He rights the water glass already placed on the table, and holds it out to the waiter. Water flows from the serpent's head seamlessly into the glass. Once in the vessel, it appears quiescent.

Envoy adds, "I'd like vegetable juice with my order, please."

"I certainly hope the hog does not walk to the table," comments Elise. She picks up her glass, looks to the water-snake uncertainly, then holds her glass to it. The glass fills and Elise just watches, not one used to so much magic.

"It won't," Cyprian assures Elise.

The water-formed serpent bobs its head again after filling Elise's glass. "Will that be all?"

"That will be sufficient for me," responds the Gallee.

Cyprian waves off the waiter, and the serpent dissolves back into the stream. A moment after it has gone, he confides to Elise in an undertone, "I know the Eeee you described."

Envoy cants her ears forward to listen.

Elise resumes sitting straight once the water-snake has departed. At Cyprian's comment her ears perk and she too leans forward. "Do tell?"

Over at a booth separated from the threesome by intervening plants – and acoustically shielded by whatever mystical means the mages here employ to help ensure privacy – a couple of feline mages chat with each other (inaudible from here, though) then stop as their meals are delivered by a little boat floating along the water channel. The younger mage leans over her bowl of soup and breathes in the rising wisps of steam, while the elder one has a plate that has a skimpy looking portion of a chunk of meaty-something sitting on a large multicolored lettuce-like leaf.

"His name is… " He hesitates, thinking, then continues, "Lusife bar Boathe, and he entered training at the College at Babel a couple of years before I did. He trained in the Sphere of Life, but he was not gifted at the arts. He's one of the few mages from the House who survived the boomer destruction, however – he was out conducting field work during the attack, I believe. I'm not sure where he is now, or what he's doing." The black-furred bat drums his hands on the table, thoughtful. "He made Journeyman eventually, three-four years ago, out of pity, I think. He'll never be a master."

"Do you remember if he had a specialty within the sphere?" Envoy asks.

"If what the prisoner reported is true, he is guilty of either performing or assisting in high murder, torture, and heretical sacrifice," mentions Elise, the charges listed as if with practiced formality and severity. She frowns, and looks to Envoy.

Cyprian considers. "He didn't want to pick a specialty when he first arrived, if I recall correctly. I think he ultimately did, once he became convinced that his skills were barely adequate to pursue a single sphere. Transformation, it must have been."

The faint sounds of music – and giggling – come from the booth with the two felines – muffled by dampening effects. The younger mage's soup appears to be bubbling rapidly – and in time with a musical jingle that also appears to be emanating from the soup itself. The elder mage rolls her eyes, then nibbles on her morsel.

Envoy hmmms. "But at the supposed time of the attack, he wouldn't have been very proficient, would he?"

"As proficient as he was going to get, actually. He'd already been studying the arts for eight years. He would not have been competent to invoke any rituals on his own, but he would have been capable of assisting a master," the Eeee acknowledges.

"I need to note that I am under orders not to act against these mages. I may observe, however. I do not wish to cause a political incident. I am also ordered not to inform anyone that does not already know of the dreams and these mages." The Gallee smiles faintly. "You two, of course, are exempt from that. You are already aware."

Elise tilts her head, turning to look at Cyprian. "What good could come from sacrificing a young boy and destroying a family, to a Mage of Transformation? I am afraid my knowledge of magic is limited to military usage," she asks him.

"One of the other two could have been another life mage, but with a sacrifice … could the other have been a necromancer?" the Aeolun posits, then adds, "The Sphere of Dream is also investigating things, Elise. The Dean will want to meet both you and Cyprian."

"The Dean? Very well, I will seek to speak with him or her after we have … ," the poodle pauses, reaching up to cover her muzzle as she yawns gently, " … excuse me. … have finished here."

"How long were you in the dream-coma you mentioned, Elise?" Envoy asks.

"By Lieutenant Jaskar's account, twenty three-days," replies Elise.

The green-eyed mage smiles briefly in reply to Elise, giving a slight nod. To Envoy, he replies, "A sacrifice of that nature could be put to a variety of uses – to make atransformation permanent, for example, or to seal a spell from another sphere, adding duration or power to it – especially if, say, a spirit mage or a necromancer was involved to make use of the dying spirit. This isn't my field, either, but I understand that sacrifice and torture are ways to enhance a spell – they act as powerful reagents, so to speak." He grimaces at the mention of the Dean, and his expression darkens further as they discuss Elise's coma.

"Was there any sort of … intervention … that allowed you to come out of it?" the Aeolun further asks.

"Lady de Bellefeuille, you mentioned 'death' in the dream inducing the coma – what happened?" the black bat asks, a note of urgency in his voice.

A grayish fox'taur – a Fnerf – pads into the restaurant, her humanoid upper torso adorned in the grayish robes of a mage of the sphere of Dream … with a bright blue shawl tossed about her neck, adding a slight touch of color, in the same way that her cobalt blue eyes contrast from the gray of her fur.

Elise closes her eyes for a moment as if concentrating, thinking. "I cannot fall in the dream world again. Should I do so … I do not believe I will wake up at all. Such is the warning given to me. The first time I engaged a monster of … Blakat, and fell in combat to it. The second time I was assisting Mage Envoy to reach Paradise when my aerial mount died – and I with it. As for intervention, I can only imagine it was because I was needed to fight in defense of my airship. We were under attack when I woke,and I joined the battle once I became aware of it."

"I remember," Cyprian says, softly, then frowns. "You were helping Envoy when your mount died? What killed it?"

Envoy's eyes widen as she looks over Elise's shoulder to see the Fnerf. "Hmmm, it appears that Dean Yffryn has entered the restaurant. She's the Dean of the School of Dream I mentioned."

"I did," replies Elise. "It was originally Mage Envoy's … ," the poodle opens her eyes and looks around until she spots the Fnerf, " … Mage Envoy's mount, but in a bit of mid-air trouble, we were forced to switch. During that trouble my sword struck a wound in the flying Drokar."

The black Eeee's eyes widen at Envoy's observation, but he does not turn to look. "I do not recommend that you confide in her," he warns, quickly and in his customary quiet voice.

Elise nods slightly. "I had no intention of doing so," she says.

Envoy blinks at her companions. "I wouldn't mention those three mages to her, certainly, but she thinks there might be a way to provide extra protection for those who enter the dream realms."

More conversationally, Cyprian corrects Envoy, "Mage Yffryn is not the Dean of the Sphere of Dream, though she's on good terms with him."

Envoy blinks again at this … perhaps she just assumed? "You know her then?"

Mage Yffryn looks around for a seat, then happens to look in the direction of the white-and-gold-winged Exile. She smiles and waves cheerily.

The Aeolun can't help but wave back.

"Regardless, we should not try and avoid her. We may wish to see what she has to speak of," says the Gallee.

The Eeee gives a single shake of his head to Envoy, and then nods. "Yes, we've met." After Envoy waves, he looks over his shoulder to offer a cordial smile to the fox'taur, then turns back to his companions. "If you spend much time on Caroban, you'll meet almost every mage here that's not an actual recluse. There aren't that many of us."

"I was a bit of a recluse as well," Envoy admits.

For her own part, Elise just gives the Fnerf mage a neutral nod, hardly out of place given her uniform and the sword at her side. "Unless you have anything else to speak of, perhaps we should invite her to the table?" offers Elise.

The invitation proves unnecessary, as the fox'taur lopes casually over, past the booth with the feline mages (where the younger one is still spending more time playing with her "singing soup" rather than eating it) and at last gets close enough for her foot-pads to be heard, signifying that she must be within the radius of the dampening effect. "Hello, Mage Envoy of Earth. And hello, Mage Cyprian of Mind. And I don't believe I've met … ?" She nods to each in turn, then to Elise. "I am Yffryn," she says, "of the Sphere of Dream."

A small bamboo boat, quaintly carved, a bit less than a yard long, floats down the waterway towards their table, bearing three covered dishes, one of which glows with the licking red flames from a fire contained in a brazier beneath it.

The nod is returned. "I am Lady Elise Antoine de Bellefeuille, an officer of Rephidim," the poodle greets the Dream Mage.

Yffryn bows. "Pleased to make your acquaint – Oh!" She smiles at the appearance of the boat. "It would seem that your meals have arrived."

"Good afternoon, Mage Yffryn," Cyprian stands and offers a short bow to the other. "Lady de Bellefeuille is recently arrived to Caroban, and wanted to see some of our little home's attractions."

Yffryn smiles again and nods. "Oh, it's full of wonders. It has most all the magic of Sinai all compressed into one little sky island!"

The boat fountains into the air, borne on the partially-reformed column of water that was their waiter earlier. Arms undulate from the column to slide the covered dishes into place before their recipients. The one with the brazier is deposited before Envoy, while the more conventional ones go before Cyprian and Elise.

The black bat offers a smile in response to Yffryn's enthusiasm, but limits his comments to a moderate, "Indeed." He remains standing, as Yffryn is, while the dishes are served.

Yffryn says, "Well … I shouldn't distract you from your meals. Good to see you again," she says, nodding to Envoy, then Cyprian, then to Elise, "and for the first time. I hope you enjoy your stay. Now then, I suppose I'd best find one of the roomier booths." She winks.

Elise also stands, though she does not offer any sort of bow given that she is wearing armor. She rests her left hand on the butt of her sword and smiles faintly. "Yes, it as Mage Cyprian says. I am thankful for a moment of relaxation," she says.

Envoy stands and bows as well, saying, "I'll try to catch up to you again later, Yffryn."

"Enjoy your meal, Mage Yffryn," says Elise. She gives the Dream Mage one further nod and then moves to retake her seat and look to her meal.

The boat slides down the back of the water column, which now resembles a translucent Naga. It removes the cover from Elise's dish, revealing a china platter ringed with greens around a thick central slab of juicy red meat. Cyprian's dish is revealed as a mixture of cut and whole fruits. It pauses while the others converse, not yet unveiling Envoy's, as Cyprian adds his farewell to the others.

Yffryn pads on away, finding – as she said – a larger booth, and managing to take up an entire couch … and a chair around the table, too, for her tail.

With the assembled resuming their seats, the water-Naga lifts the cover on Envoy's dish with a dramatic flourish. Something flowery leaps out from the center of the dish, snaps at Envoy's nose, then sinks back into the bowl over the burning brazier. Otherwise, the bowl appears to contain a kind of soup of shifting colors. Bubbles from the heat make the bits floating within it seem to wriggle, though nothing as dramatic as the initial snap.

The poodle's smile grows, showing that she is quite pleased to see the result of her order. "You are right, Mage Envoy, I am quite tired of airship food. This will do me wonders." She then looks up to Envoy's meal and glances to Cyprian. "How is it you endure such oddities on a daily basis?" she asks, her tone resonating with amusement.

Envoy grins at the animated soup, and dips her spoon into it for a taste.

Half-closing one eye at the splatter caused by the snap from the bowl, Cyprian shakes his head. "'Oddity' implies 'unusual'. After a while, nothing seems unusual any more." Something bumps Envoy's spoon forcefully as she lifts it out for her taste, and causes it to spill half its contents. "But that still doesn't mean I would eat it."

Determined, Envoy tastes the remainder of the soup in her spoon.

Elise just shakes her head, smiling. She reaches to pick up a fork and knife and then pausing, deciding against it. Instead she makes the sign of the Star and Anchor across her breastplate. "Praise be to the First Ones for this moment of rest, and for the guidance that has brought us together worn but unharmed," utters the Gallee.

"It's pretty good soup," Envoy comments, and tries to distract whatever is in it with her knife before dipping her spoon in the opposite end of the bowl.

Cyprian waits, silent, through Elise's prayer, and then gives a shake of his head at Envoy's comment. "So far," he murmurs direly. The feint with the knife succeeds, though Envoy nearly loses it to whatever's in there, but she gains a full spoonful of soup through the maneuver.

Prayer said, Elise picks up her fork and knife and begins carving a piece of her hog into a carefully cut square. "Cyprian, now that we are undisturbed, I have been meaning to ask you something. I have seen you controlled … ," she glances at him, then back to her meal, "however, are you aware if such control extends into life?"

Several expressions cross Envoy's face as she tastes her latest spoonful, but they all seem pleasant. She watches Cyprian for his answer.

After Elise begins eating, Cyprian lifts out a whole fruit from his mix and sinks his teeth into it, neatly sectioning off a chunk and devouring it. He takes a moment before answering, perhaps longer than necessary to simply swallow the mouthful. "As you're aware, I am a master of the sphere of Mind. Magic is not a subtle art – it's difficult for even the most talented to control another's conscious mind without their knowledge. I might bend you to my will, but you would probably know that I was controlling you. As far as I know, a master of the art would certainly be aware."

"Because we are accustomed to lacking full control of ourselves in our dreams, it is easier to manipulate one's actions in a subconscious state. Even in a normal dream, you may find that 'you' did things that you can't imagine having a good reason to do," the mage continues, choosing his words carefully.

Elise lifts her delicately cut square of hog and eats it, listening to Cyprian speak as she savors the morsel. After a moment she inclines her head to the answer. "That is good to hear. I have been aware that changes within the dreams can result in subtle changes to the mind outside of the dreams – and more dire results, such as my coma."

"Cyprian was also curious about how we can maintain such a high degree of self-awareness in the dreams," Envoy says, "Weren't you, Cyprian?"

The mage nods. "When I am in one of these … magically-generated dreams, I am not in full control of myself. But I am aware of that lack of control, if you can discern the difference. I know that a force – which in the dreams sometimes feels as if it were a goddess – is exerting its will through me, sometimes blatantly, sometimes subtly." His voice carries a tinge of distaste.

"I believe it is because we are included in the dreams due to an external force. This 'Morpheus' who summoned us originally may play a part in that. I also recall you telling me I was not … ," Elise looks to Cyprian, "a part of the dreams? Was not filled with whatever the others present were?"

Cyprian nods to the poodle. "That is correct. I can sense in the dreams those who belong, and those who don't. You don't belong, and neither does Envoy. Nor have a couple of others that I recall. Curiously, being in the presence of those who are … ," he fumbles for words, "… out of place in the dream realm, makes it easier for me to assert more control of myself. It's like your presence … ," he throws up his hands and shrugs, "wakes me up, in some fashion. Makes me more aware. If that makes any sense."

"Do you remember receiving any sort of crystal, perhaps as a form of jewelry, before you began to enter the dream realm?" Envoy asks Elise.

"A jewel? Now that you mention it … " The poodle puts down her knife and fork and after cleaning her hands with a napkin – the action not really necessary – and reaches for the collar of her armor. She draws out a piece of crystal attached to a length of metal chain. "I was given this while unconscious after a duel … "

Envoy leans forward to get a better look at the crystal.

The crystal appears to be Sifran crystal, such as the type found on Rephidim. "Beyond what dream-disrupting power it has, it can also disrupt ghosts," she explains.

The Eeee mage, too, sets down his food to examine the ornament.

"Ghosts?" Cyprian asks, almost reflexively.

"I kept it as a memento of an event before my graduation from the Academy. You see, I was – how do I put this – engaged in duels over the 'Sword of the First Ones'. An attendant came with the sword, a collie girl of about my age then. It seems that this girl was actually the ghost of a cadet slain years previous in a duel of love." She shakesher head a little and holds the crystal out where it can be seen better. "The ghost reenacted the duel, creating a circle of cadets who fought over the 'Sword of the First Ones' and whomever won carried the sword. The sword appeared to have been linked to the ghost, and the contest ensured a healthy individual would carry the sword, always enabling the ghost a constant source of life energy to draw from in order to enact her revenge."

Leaning back again, Envoy considers this. "And the presence of the crystal prevented the spirit from doing this?"

"When I arranged to reveal this plot to two fellow students, I cast this crystal at the ghost, and it disrupted her corporeal form. Normally she was quite solid," says Elise.

"Intriguing. May I?" Cyprian wipes his hands on his napkin and holds out one towards the crystal.

Envoy turns to look at Cyprian, and says, "Wait."

The Eeee stops, dropping his hand to the table, and turns his attention to Envoy, brow raised inquisitively.

The Gallee nods, and moves to show hand the crystal still attached to the chain to the Mind Mage. Envoy's commenthowever gives her reason to pause, and she grasps the crystal in her hand while looking to Envoy curiously.

"Are you wearing a ward, or holding a spell, Cyprian?" the Aeolun asks.

The unattended soup before Envoy mulls around. A tendril of something wet and sticky starts to creep out over the side of the bowl, but it stops as it slides halfway down, drops of soup sizzling as they splatter into fire. Cyprian starts to shake his head at Envoy, then stops. "I'm not holding a spell, but I do have one in effect upon me. A kind of ward, you might say."

"What is it exactly?" Envoy asks. "It might not be a good idea to touch the crystal with an active spell in effect."

The two felines in the next booth over finally finish their meal – or, that is, the younger one finishes her soup. The elder didn't take long to finish her morsel, nibbling or no. They get up, vacating the table, though the older one pauses, counts out some shekel pieces, and leaves a tip before moving on.

"A ward?" asks Elise curiously. She lets the crystal lay in the palm of her hand and observes it. "You believe it may disrupt his magic, then?"

The black-furred mage smiles wryly. "No, I suspect she fears I may do some harm to your crystal." He turns away from Elise to face his meal again, taking up a bite of fruit.

Envoy shakes her head, "I don't know what it may do, but this isn't the place to take the risk."

Elise nods slightly and tucks the crystal away beneath her robes and armor. "Yes. The High Ambassador would be most displeased if I were to cause some sort of magical reaction. First Ones forbid he need worry himself." She picks up her fork and knife and returns to her meal. "Envoy, can you tell me more about Morpheus?"

"It's a benign spell – I would be shocked if it interacted with your crystal at all. Nonetheless, as the good mage says – no need to test it here." He swallows a grape and washes it down with a mouthful of water.

"Also, how is it you know I have this crystal at all? It was given to me by the then-Duchess Eve Kurai, though I was not awake to see it delivered," adds Elise.

Managing to get another spoonful of her soup, Envoy thinks of how to describe Morpheus. "He is … like me: an artifact that wasn't supposed to become sentient. Originally a Sifran tool to modify the environment, he was brought to Morpheus and … became part of the planet itself. Oh, Morpheus mentioned to me that he was able to create the crystals here on Sinai, and would arrange for them to be handed out."

"You are … and, he is a … ," Elise's ear flicks, and she stops cutting for a moment to think about the response from Envoy. "Ah. So he did choose us. Originally to free the mages … but you have any idea what for now? I have not seen any more trapped mages."

Envoy's cheeks puff out, and she seems about to gag or choke before forcing a swallow, followed by a deep drink of her juice. "Ahh … oh, I don't know if he had specific people selected ahead of time, or just gave Eve some way of detecting them. But not just anyone would do; it has to be a person that is attuned to the environment of Morpheus somehow, so that their dreams can pass for reality there. Freeing the mages was just one concern – and Dream Mages that enter the realm still become trapped; it's just that they've stopped trying after their peers began to fall into comas."

A couple of apprentices of Fire shuffle by, their Sphere easily identified by their red robes (and the occasional scorch mark, which helps to further identify their status as apprentices). One of them, a (mostly) white-furred Jupani, loudly whispers to his companion as they pass by, pointing, "Look! She got the daily special!" There is a brief sound of repressed snickering from the Zerda, before they pass into silence again.

"The real goal, for me anyway, is to free Morpheus from the control of the mages," Envoy says, sparing a glance at the snickering apprentices.

Cyprian waits for the apprentices to wander off, then says quietly, "From what I gather, Morpheus must be the main reagent for the spell. If you free him, it should destroy the Kindly Ones' dream realm."

Elise casts a stern look over at the mages who walk by, seemingly out of habit, before looking back to the two at her table. "I see. An artifact-creature connected with the planet of dreams … trapped by Babelites … the connection is obvious. Now that is a goal I can grasp. But we would need know where Morpheus is located in the waking world," says the poodle.

Even though the apprentices are out of earshot now – and quite possibly thought they were out of earshot before when they snickered – they scoot off all the more quickly at the stern look from the Templar.

A massive Naga in gray mage's robes slithers through the entranceway, so large he fills it. He pauses in the archway, surveying the patrons, then undulates to Yffryn's table, bending over to exchange a few words with her.

"He does not exist in the waking world," Envoy says. "He is literally fused to the crystal network of the planet Morpheus."

The Templar nods slightly. "Then how would you presume we free him?" she asks.

The Aeolun tries for another spoonful, making sure to inspect it carefully for any movement before consuming it this time. "Why do you refer to them as the Kindly Ones, Cyprian? In all of the myths and legends I've read, they seem to be rather … nasty."

In Cyprian's stead, Elise speaks. "They are his gods, and the only gods he has," she says quietly, a troubled tone in her voice.

A wry smile from Cyprian answers Envoy's observation. "Optimism, flattery, or irony, take your pick. It is acommon way of referring to the Beautiful Ladies among Babelite believers. One hopes that by referring to them as kindly, they will respond to one in like manner. To call them by individual name would be to invite their attention directly; with euphemism, we hope to avoid that."

"I meant no offense," Envoy says, apologetically, then answers Elise's earlier question. "By meeting the challenges of the Sisters, Morpheus thought that the mages' hold on him might be weakened. It does seem that when one of the special dreamers succeeds, the realm of that Sister becomes a bit more … real."

Envoy risks another sip of her soup, hoping it will wash out the taste of the last one.

Cyprian frowns at that. "Doesn't it seem like he'd want it the other way around – that the realm should be less real, not more?"

Yffryn bows her upper body deferentially to the Naga at her table – and by the cut of his robes, it's a fair guess that he's of higher station in the College hierarchy. She smiles in her usual, amiable manner, chatting with the snake, though not so much as a murmur or a yip makes it across the room, of course.

"If it is more real, like the dreams of those who meet the challenge, then there should be less draw on Morpheus' own power to maintain it. This could also hinder the mages' control, since they probably need to exert it through Morpheus as well." Envoy smiles, the extra sip having had the effect she was hoping for.

Elise cuts another overly-well sliced square of her meal and impales it on her fork. She goes to take a bite and while doing so notes the presence of the Naga dream mage by the Fnerf's table. She takes the bite, swallows, and then nods to the rest of her table. "Our dream mage friend has a guest," she notes.

Envoy looks to Cyprian, and asks, "The Dean?"

Cyprian follows her look, and nods. "That's the Dean of the Sphere of Dreams," he identifies, "Mage Ssrithiri of Nightmares."

"Nightmares?" the Aeolun whispers.

"Certainly not a pleasant title. What is your take on him?" inquires Elise. She shifts her gaze to the two dream mages and watches them for a moment.

The Naga straightens, and the cowled hood of his robe drops to his shoulders, revealing the gray and white pattern of his scales. He pats Yffryn on the shoulder, coiling on the ground beside her, as his bulk is too large too fit even in the spacious booth opposite her.

Elise turns her head away from the two dream mages so that her expression cannot be seen – and her expression darkens quite a bit indeed. "I believe I have found another of the three mages," she tells the two.

"Nightmares is the title he chose for himself. He is … a powerful mage." Cyprian's voice hesitates for a moment as the Naga's cowl drops, then continues, in an ordinary, conversational tone. "He is one of very few to have mastered more than one sphere, though he remains most potent in the realm of dream of course." He lays one hand on Elise's, an implied warning in the gesture. He catches her eye, and shakes his head once, a barely perceptible motion.

"Was he trained at the former Babel branch of the College, Cyprian?" Envoy asks, watching the reactions of her companions.

"No, he trained in the Guild Hall at Nagai. He studied Scrying, as well," Cyprian responds, voice still light. He pops a few red berries into his mouth.

The Gallee calms at the Eeee direction, returning to her meal. "A very accomplished person. I imagine anyone would be proud of such an extensive reserve of knowledge and ability," she says.

The black bat nods agreement. "Indeed. He has not rested on his accomplishments, however. He's still quite active in pursuing knowledge. I am given to understand that the difficulties with practicing dream magic have only sharpened his desire to see the field regain its former glory."

Envoy glances at the large Naga again. "Did he study under the Sphere of Light as well then?"

Cyprian flashes a puzzled look to Envoy. "Yes, the Sphere of Light. It's the same thing as Scrying."

"I wonder where he was during the attempt to restore the scrying pool of Master Zahirinee," Envoy says. "That was about five years ago as well. And Dream can sometimes be used for a type of scrying, although it tends to focus on prophecy and other … fuzzier … versions of it, I believe."

"I can imagine any such disruption in one's primary field might result in an equally strong attempt at righting that change. Certainly were Rephidim safe now and forever, I may well have to put down my sword," mentions Elise. She quirks at the very idea. "My sister would be thrilled." Elise however, looks less than thrilled about it.

The flames beneath Envoy's soup burn cheerfully, unabated by the passage of time. The tentacle-like bit that dangled off the side has stopped moving, and seems to be drying and hardening in place. There's a schlorp sound from the bowl, and what appears to be a large star-shaped flower floats to the surface of the soup, with long tendrils radiating outwards from it.

Cyprian considers Envoy's comment. "I don't believe he was one of those involved with the restoration of the scrying lake, though I'm not certain."

"He wished to speak with me, did he not?" asks Elise of Envoy. The poodle officer tries very hard to ignore the strangeness of the soup while asking her question, and does a marginally good job of it.

Envoy nods. "And with me, and probably Cyprian – although he shouldn't actually know of him by name. The Sphere of Dream is very interested in the dream realm created for the Seven Sisters … although I'm not sure it is generally considered a threat by them yet." She pokes at the flower with her spoon.

The flower makes a sort of squeaky noise, and a few tendrils flop feebly, but it seems to be dying at last. Cyprian squeezes Elise's hand suddenly, and gives another quick shake of his head as Envoy speaks. He lifts his fork to spear a section of fruit, and eats it without comment.

"Well then, if you are all finished … ," Elise pauses at the sudden squeeze, and seemingly loses track of what she was saying. Instead she just reaches to finish off the last of her meal.

Envoy tries another spoonful of soup, to see what its actual flavor might be without the plant being active.

The Eeee mage finishes the rest of his fruit in short order, leaving his plate clean like Elise's. The Exile, however, still has a great deal of soup left over.

Removing the expired plant from her bowl and placing it on a napkin, Envoy is now free to take more spoonfuls, and begins to finish off her soup.

"If you'd like to go and get some rest, or experiment with that talisman, I can stay here to cover the bill and distract the Dream Mages for you," Envoy offers.

"Normally I would not think to put you at risk, Mage Envoy … but that may be best. I need someone versed in magic to assist me, and I must check on the High Ambassador as well," answers the officer.

Envoy makes a face after one spoonful, but it passes. "I'm at no more risk than I was before you arrived, Elise. I wasalready supposed to meet with them, after all."

Cyprian glances to Elise, then nods. "Very well." He crumples up his napkin and leaves it on his plate as he stands, then moves to help the lady poodle from her chair.

"I suppose I mean … that I cannot be around in case something were … " The poodle woman shakes her head slightly, then smiles at Envoy. "I am certain you can handle yourself," she tells her. The poodle woman then stands and nods to Cyprian.

The black-furred bat offers Elise his arm, and nods to the Aeolun. "Good day to you, Mage Envoy, and thank you for the meal. I am glad that I appear to have been … ah … wrong about the quality of the daily special, on this occasion."

Elise in turn takes Cyprian's arm. "Yes, it was quite a surprise to see you again. But certainly not an unpleasant one. Farewell, Mage Envoy. May the First Ones guide your path," Elise tells Envoy.

Envoy grins, and wraps up the remains of the plant in her napkin to dry it off – she'll want to examine it later, after all – and finishes her soup. "A bit like tasting the entire restaurant. And the alley behind it."