It has taken Alptraum days to get here, as he chose to take the way by foot, navigating his way through the maze of bridges and towers that is Babel, and having to circumvent the great round obstacle provided by the Wound.

Along the way, Alptraum's strategy of avoiding conflict has varied greatly. Most of the time, he's simply avoided overly suspicious-looking persons. But then, there were the punks who made fun of his hair, suggested that he was a Yodhsunala trying to cross-dress as a man to avoid getting rounded up as a witch. That was the mildest of their accusations. As they went on, they varied on into the obscene, and made it clear that they were going to be violent to Alptraum should he just try to move on and be quiet.

That was a big mistake. On their part, that is.

Perhaps those fellows might, if they receive proper attention, be able to walk again … or even fly. Nonetheless, for the most part, Alptraum has managed to avoid any confrontation. Most people are just too busy with their own concerns, and a good portion of the city is vacant (or seemingly so). So it is that after a long journey, Alptraum finally makes it to the base of Mount Sunala. It's busier here than he remembers during previous visits. The tents and pavilions are certainly not the sort of thing he ever recalls being allowed here before. As he observes the activity from a distance, he sees a young girl in acolytes' robes walking out of a tent, carrying a tray with a chitin basin of water, with a few cloths resting in it. Her fur is very dark, almost black, but with a reddish tinge to it, while her hair is bleach white as is common with the Yodhsunala. Zana. She seems intent on carrying the tray and not dropping its contents, and shows no notice of Alptraum.

"Hello, Acolyte Zana," Alptraum says and walks towards the Acolyte. "It's been some time since I've seen you – or this place for that matter. Things have changed, it seems. Are these wounded and injured of Babel, come here for aid?" he asks.

Zana startles, and stops, the tray in her hands shaking. She just barely manages to keep from spilling it over. "You … you're back!" she squeaks. "I … I heard you … you were captured … you sacrificed yourself… "

"Avralie, I was captured," Alptraum admits. "It was a choice between two certain deaths, or the possibility of one. I chose the latter and surrendered to buy time. But then, I've been accused of doing such lunacy before – by the person I saved this last time, in fact." He pauses, then asks, "Why are you shaking?"

"You just surprised me!" Zana squeaks, adjusting the tray again, smiling now. "You … oh, goodness, you look like you've been through a lot! Have you been fighting? Here! Come with me – They'll take a look at you. I mean … you … you'll get to go to the front of the line, for sure! Or – what am I thinking? I could take you back to the Temple, and … are you terribly hurt?"

Alptraum waves a hand. "I'm all right. Not hurt at all, really. The people whom attacked me, however… Anyway, even if I was, I wouldn't ask to go before anyone else. The people come first," Alptraum replies. "What is going on here? How many remain? Is there anything I can do?"

"Well, Sunala sent off some of us to make contact with the outlying temples, to send messages, and make preparations. Sunala could do something, of course, but … it would result in an awful lot of death. And, really, I don't think Babel needs more of that," Zana says. "Oh! Forgive me. What is going on here is that Sunala ordered us to help the people. There are a lot of people who are wounded. And we even got permission to treat sickness from the High Priestess of Gorphat. She declared that Gorphat would take no offense at it, so long as no offense was meant."

Alptraum nods. "The last thing this city needs is more death. I'm also glad to see you helping people out here. Up there, in the temple, it's easy to get disconnected from the people of Babel, the people that are Babel. So, is the new High Priestess, Phlagaea, now spreading disease?" he asks.

"I don't really know what she's doing," Zana says. "She sort of comes and goes. I think she's been traveling out to visit temples in the outlying country. No, it's just been that there have been a lot of fights going on – some of the warlords and nobles don't want to pay tribute to the new government. Lots of people get caught in the middle. And, of course, there are ALWAYS sick people." She shuffles along, carrying her tray and bowl to the next tent, but then stops at the opening. "Oh … Yodhsunala Nekara is in here."

Alptraum tenses at hearing that. "Is she injured?" he asks.

"Injured? No!" Zana says. "She's helping with some people who got hit by a swarm of brackle-bugs that got let loose when Warlord Karek fled his stronghold. I guess he got the idea from the General."

Alptraum winces. "Are those the ones that burrow into you? I've had the experience – I don't recommend it to anyone," Alptraum says and looks at the tent. "I doubt she would welcome seeing me."

"She said you saved her life, and spared her soul from being drained by a vampire," Zana says. "But she also said she tried to kill you. So I figured you might be alarmed if I led you into the tent and there she was."

"The last thing she said to me was a threat on my life," Alptraum replies, still looking at the tent. "So, I'm not exactly looking forward to seeing her again."

"Well … I really need to get in there before this gets cold," Zana says, biting her lip.

Alptraum shrugs and mutters, "I can't avoid everything. I can take care of myself. Lead on."

Zana nods, then shuffles around to put her back to the tent flap to push it open, without upsetting the tray that she's carrying. Inside, the tent is lit with a few hanging greenish glow-vials of the sort that Phlagaea usually carries around, and a few more mundane torches on poles, positioned to keep away from the fabric of the tent. Here and there are cots and mats, though at present all of the mats are empty (except for one that holds a reclining Fnerf too large for a cot), and not all of the cots are full – though there are signs that sometime recently, the tent was much more stuffed to capacity. Two priestesses work their way along the wounded, tending to them, with a couple of acolytes tending to them – Zana making the third to enter the tent.

Alptraum follows in behind Zana, silver eyes looking around warily. His ears perk and listen, trying to track those moving about – just in case Nekara decides to make good on the thread. He can't help but bring his eyes back often to the tending priestesses. "Have you been having good luck with the people, Zana? I hope those empty beds are empty from people leaving them under their own power," he says.

"More than not," Zana says, putting on a hopeful face.

"Acolyte Zana!" snaps one of the priestesses – the one that Alptraum doesn't recognize. "Must it take you so long? Do you not take your chores seriously? Do you – Oh." Her eyes widen as she sees who it is Zana is with, even as Zana picks up her pace to head over with the bowl.

"I'm sorry, Yodhsunala Turina," Zana says, ducking her head, and putting the bowl down beside the cot.

"That's good," Alptraum replies. "I've seen too much pain and death already in my time here in Babel. I'm not sure I can help much here. I had just come back to col… " He swallows and tenses, realizing things could go bad – fast.

The two other acolytes stop and turn – and stare – and the remaining priestess – Nekara – turns to look to see what is going on as well. She just stands there, mouth closed, eyes blinking, as if trying to register what to make of what she's seeing.

"Please, do not let me distract you," Alptraum replies, feeling very much on the spot. "I won't be here long. I was just trying to see what was going on here."

Turina is the first to nod, and return to her work. "Zana, take this… " The acolytes reluctantly follow her lead, though occasionally tossing furtive glances Alptraum's way.

Nekara's gaze lasts the longest, but then she looks back down, and continues changing bandages, dropping the used ones into a steaming basin that smells of alcohol and other pungent things.

"I'm fine, Zana. Thank you for speaking with me," Alptraum says, then looks toward Nekara. "Well, you are the last person I expected to see again so soon, Yodhsunala Nekara," Alptraum says slowly and carefully.

"I could say the same about you, Barsunala," Nekara says, as she methodically treats her patient – an elderly bat who seems to be half-dozing through the treatment. "Here," she says, to the acolyte nearby. "Finish this for me." She dips her hands into another pungent-smelling basin, and wipes them off on a towel. She looks up to Alptraum. "Do you have time to talk?"

"To talk, yes," Alptraum answers simply, keeping his eyes on Nekara.

"Then … " Nekara gestures toward the tent flap. Zana briefly looks up from her work, but at a scold from Turina, turns back to focus on her patient.

Alptraum cants his ears to focus more backwards so he can track Nekara by sound, then heads to the tent flap to leave.

Nekara glides between the cots, after Alptraum. Outside, there are a few people here and there, and some quiet murmurings, but no one immediately outside the tent. Nekara ducks her head as she pushes the flap open, then steps outside as well. "You escaped, I see. Sunala will be pleased," she says, not meeting Alptraum's eyes.

"Let go, is more like it – after they were satisfied their position was secure. It was made quite sure I would not be able to escape. And avralie, I know she will. I spoke with her briefly while I was held and know some of what has transpired out here," Alptraum replies. "I would have to say you were the one who did escaping."

"Yes, and I am thankful to you for that," Nekara says, "and ashamed." She looks up. "I went to Sunala, and told her what you had told me. She told me that she already knew it all. She chastised me for my lack of faith. I thought she was going to kill me right then … but she did not." She finally meets Alptraum's eyes. "I don't believe she is really Sunala, and I don't believe you are a demigod … but that is not what matters anymore."

"Well, you know how I am. Better for one to live, and the other to pass on, than for two to die. I presume you remember the airship," Alptraum replies, tone kept even and controlled. "You don't believe those things now? I see. And why does it not matter now? It mattered at the time you made the attempt on my life."

"My shame and my thanks are not enough?" Nekara says. "Shall I apologize, then? I made a terrible mistake. I know that now. I was swayed by Sutrana's bitterness, for I saw some truth to what she said … but the fact that she was right in her accusations did not mean that she was right in her prescription. The girl who sits on the throne of the temple may not be an eternal goddess, but she has done far more to bring glory to Sunala – our true mother – than any priestess has done before. The nobles gave us gold, and the commoners gave us ceramic, and everyone gave us fear, but never true respect or awe. Death will come to us all; the ability to deal it out is hardly worth worship. But now we have had new purpose – we have been able to help make the time between birth and death a little more bearable for those of Babel."

"I am thankful for the chance you gave me to see that, Alptraum," Nekara says. "I am indebted to you, and I am ashamed for my reaction. I cared for you, and I feared that such a feeling might cloud me, might make me less than pure in my following of my goddess – and Sutrana sensed as much, and accused me. So I reacted sharply and quickly, refusing to let my mind get in the way – for fear that my heart might as well. The thing you told me was shocking. It broke every last defense I had against Sutrana's hatred. But I could have tried harder. I am thankful that my aim faltered. To kill you would not have been an act of purification – it would have been a blasphemy."

"No more shocking to you that to me, Nekara. I get to look out here, across this city, at all this death – and the pain and destruction, and know that part of me is responsible for it. Several times, I've wanted to die, rather than have to continue to face this. But, somehow, I have continued. Something in me drives me on, refuses to let me give into weakness and just give up, to quit on a people that by all rights seem hopeless. I… " Alptraum replies his tone growing a bit softer. "I've found you difficult, but I've not hated you. I saw hope in you, and clung to that, though I admit I started to believe I was foolish to do so. Believe it or not, I do care about you and considered you a friend. It's why I couldn't let you die in there. Not like that. I … " he pauses, searching. "I guess, with me, I won't judge quickly. I want to look inside, to see how people are, inside. Being that I grew up, often feared or considered a monster, I can't let myself be so quick to judge another such and condemn another to the life I experienced. I don't know if that makes any sense at all."

"Yes, it does," Nekara says, "though … before all this, I probably would have thought you were just babbling." She turns and looks back toward the tent. "I had just finished trying to kill you. Yet you turned around and saved me again. I … I couldn't just … I couldn't … " She shakes her head, looking down at the ground. "I didn't know what to make of that. I didn't know how to understand that. So I tried harder. And that's what made me reconsider my motivations. That … and all that has been happening here. Not Thath … not the Coalition … but what we've been doing here. The difference we've been making. Many people say it's no difference at all. That we're just trying to win over the people in a last-ditch effort to stave off persecution by the new order … but this is making a difference. I know it."

"Even just stopping to help someone who's fallen makes a difference. You've touched that one life. To that one person, you've changed something. In time, that person my return the favor to another, then another. It's slow, and many times feels pointless, but," Alptraum replies, then looks out over the city. "Destroying things is easy. Killing is easy. Saving a life, easing pain, surviving, growing, becoming something great. Creating a world to be proud of, where the next generation has a brighter future. That … that's incredibly hard. But, I think I rambled on like this back on the boat when we were coming here. So, tell me, how does it make you feel when someone genuinely thanks you? When you can see it in their eyes?"

"It … " Nekara pauses, her ears splaying. "It makes me feel … guilty." She looks down. "It feels wrong … something thanking me like that. But … that's just part of me." She looks back up again. "The other part of me wants it more than anything."

"Avralie," Alptraum replies, and steps closer to Nekara. "You don't feel worthy of it, or what you did deserved it, I imagine; it's how I often feel. But, its getting – you have done something to deserve it. And that feeling you get, can sustain you through some of the darkest times. So, try not to feel too guilty about it. And certainly don't feel guilty over – well, what happened in the Tower. It's done, it's gone. We move forward. And let me be another to say thank you. For just being a friend."

Nekara's eyes drop again. There's a glint of the torch lights off of something on her cheek. "And … I thank you," she says, in a hoarse whisper, as her shoulders hunch up a little, and her wings hug in tight. "I wish I could have been a better … " But she just lets that trail off.

"We all have regrets," Alptraum says gently, "What you were is what you were. What matters now is what you are." He then extends his arm and gives her a light hug and adds, "And one thing about being someone's friend … is that they like you, forgive you, and appreciate you, even in spite of yourself and mistakes you make."

Nekara bristles briefly, but then, after a breath, relaxes, and practically melts into Alptraum's hug. If she has anything to say, she hasn't the wherewithal to say it.

"And we have to decide where all of us will go from here. Are the Yodhsunala going to leave Babel, or are they going to stay and try to help rebuild?" Alptraum asks.

"We'll do what we can, while we are here," Nekara says, "but I do not think that we can stay here. There is no Sabaoth, no High Prince, no High Princess that will negotiate with the College Esoterica for our exemption from their policies concerning 'hedge wizards, sorcerers and charlatans.' We are capable of defending ourselves … but not without great cost to Babel, if we defend ourselves here."

"Right. Well, you might have an ally in defending you to some extent," Alptraum replies. "I've been trying to figure out what I would be doing – which is why I walked here instead of flying. I left the seed back at the Coalition Tower of trying to work with the new order to bring a better Babel for all. If that panned out, and with the work you all have begun doing, I might be able to press the case for protecting and insisting on keeping the exceptions in place. If that's even possible, it would take time. So, if or when you leave, please at least tell me where you go. If I'm successful, you'd have a home to return to, and be welcomed to."

Nekara looks up, a hopeful expression warring with doubt. "If … you can do that? … I wouldn't know what to say. Yes … yes, I'll make certain to let you know."

"I can't promise I can. But, I can try. Odd as it sounds, and creepy as it sounds, and please don't get mad … but I think Thath spared me because in his own twisted way, cares for me. I may be able to use that to help all of you, somehow. At the very least, maybe help prevent outright attacks against you," Alptraum replies. he then blinks and adds, shaking his head, "And you know, it sounds horrible when I say that. Manipulative."

"No … it's only fair, I suppose," Nekara says. "If he really is your father … then the least he can do is care at least a little for you … in his own way." She shakes her head. "There's enough to be concerned about, without being ashamed of that."

"It's just the idea of working with him. I don't want to end up like him, if that makes sense," Alptraum replies and shrugs.

"I can't see you ever being like him," Nekara says, and she pulls away. "I really don't see any resemblance." She raises a hand to wipe a stray white lock out of her eyes. "I had better get back to work. Wanasi is well-meaning enough, but if she doesn't know what to do next, she'll just stand there until someone tells her."

Alptraum nods and steps back. "Avralie. I've kept you out here far too long. Plus, I should probably check on other things, try to speak with Phlagaea about working towards making Babel less disease ridden – if she is even willing to do so. You take care of yourself. I'll come by later, if you like. And if there's anything I can do to help, let me know. I know a bit about treating some poisons and such, thanks to my upbringing on the road. Nothing nearly as skilled as any of you, of course," he says.

"Well … maybe we could do something about that," Nekara says. "We could always use another hand… " She then snaps to the present, and bows her head. "Thank you for coming by. I … I hope to see you again. Soon." And then she ducks back into the tent, leaving Alptraum alone outside.

"Just when you think nothing you've done has made a difference … life reminds you of just how unexpected it can be," Alptraum says and starts up toward the Temple to look for Sunala and possibly Phlagaea. "Maybe something good will come of this after all. Maybe Babel will begin to grow up, and anew," he muses. Then, for the first time in a month or more, Alptraum pulls out his recorder and starts playing as he goes – a soft and gentle tune.