The remainder of Willow's stay in Olympia was quite uneventful, amazingly enough. No appearances by ghosts or deities or mages or religious fanatics. The visit to the bank went without a hitch – It seems that Prince Dack is was certainly well known, and there was no problem at all in getting his money back, along with a secure note.

Captain Barnacle managed to recruit a few Katthas to join the crew … which was especially needed, since a few crewmen jumped ship in Olympia. Some of the crewmen seemed to have this notion that this airship was "cursed" or somesuch, and that they'd have better chances signing on with another captain. Barnacle, of course, hasn't been any less grumpy as a result.

At least there was some decent business done in Olympia, and the airship even picked up some passengers who happened to be heading for the next stop: an Abaddonian warrior aiming to head back home, and his Savanite companion.

The airship didn't go straight to Himaat – It made a few hops along the way in Himar – but that would hardly be a choice location for sight-seeing for the gunmetal gray Skreek.

Now, the Merryweather sails over the desert, approaching what at first looks like a cluster of wreckage down on the sands. Supposedly, that's a growing city down there, unofficially called "Gateway".

It's daylight out. It's pretty warm here … and this is supposed to be the cool time of the year. The sun blares down, reflected on the yellow-white dunes of the Himaatian desert … and the featureless expanse of the Sea of Sand.

Willow leans against the railing across the decks of the ship, letting the wind play through her scraggly black hair as she clumsily sews a torn section of her shirt together. One of her fingers already bears a bandage from her efforts so far; apparently stitching people up is much easier for her hands than cloth. Her fur is slightly damp from the heat, but she pays it no mind for now.

Up at the fore of the ship, Burr is pointing out the town to Thorn, and making clumsy attempts at telling some sort of story about "Other Sinai where ground red, big *STOMP STOMP* things walk around… ". He has been spending some time with Testament-Blaze … but lately Testament-Blaze seems to be preoccupied with the two odd passengers when he's not doing his regular chores.

Right now, Testament-Blaze is over at the fore, along with that purple-and-black-garbed cheetah, and her armored escort. At first, it looked like the crewmembers were going to get back to their own tricks. But the armored warrior had something to say about it (not that he's actually ever said anything), and ended up paying the captain for Willow's trouble in patching up the offender. None of the other crewmembers has bothered Testament-Blaze for now.

Captain Barnacle shuffles about, looking annoyed, as usual. He keeps checking a chart he carries with him, even though the city that is his destination is plainly in sight.

The Skreek bites off her thread and pockets her needle, taking a moment to suck on the pad of her thumb after pricking it more than once. ( I'm never teasing Burr about his hammering again. Ow. ) She wipes some sweat from her fur and starts towards the fore, figuring that now is as good a time as any to speak to Testy's companions before the ship lands.

Burr finishes his "tale" to Thorn hurriedly, as some of the crewmen start to prepare for landing. He then flashes a quick sign to Thorn to get belowdecks (so he won't be in the way), and heads over to lend his back to the work. No time for sight-seeing for a slave, when there's work to be done. Along the way, he spies Willow, and bows to her.

The little cheetah, Thorn, smiles brightly at Willow as he sees her, and bows as well, a smaller (and far cuter) version of his father.

The Skreek pauses on her way to the fore to nod back to Burr. "You've been talking to Test; know if he's going to be going home from here? Or who his two companions are?"

Burr glances back to the others, then signs to Willow, "Stranger want old spotty to go with. But not know if old spotty go."

"I'll see if I can convince him then. You don't know anything about the stranger or his slave then?" She signs, glancing over at the three figures at the fore just to make sure they're not spying on her signs.

Burr signs, "Stranger is warrior from Abaddon. Spotties free there. I think he trouble. But he pay captain lots, and he go soon."

Actually, Burr's sign for "Abaddon" is "red world", but given that he's always used that to describe Testament-Blaze's supposed homeland, there's little doubt what he's talking about.

"Hey! Scarface! Hurry up! We can use a hand over here, preferably two!" barks one of the crewmembers.

Willow arches an eyebrow. "Trouble? You mean something else besides the fact that he pounded the sap out of Blacktail and seems armed to the teeth?"

Burr signs, "Spotty who act free mean trouble. He spotty in armor. And no like dancer either. Bad feeling."

"Go help out the others, Burr. I'll be back soon enough." The Skreek pokes the larger cheetah in the ribs as she walks past and starts towards the front of the ship.

Burr rushes off to help with the rigging. Thorn has already scampered off belowdecks, rather than getting caught underfoot.

As Willow approaches the group at the fore, she doesn't meet any further distractions. All three are looking to the ramshackle-looking city below, Testament-Blaze off to one side, while the dancer is close to the warrior, her hand resting on his armored arm.

The "city", meanwhile, comes more into focus. A good deal of the "buildings" are really just sand-triremes and landed airships, and a cluster of wooden platforms crisscrossing the sand, with assorted shacks and tents here and there. It also looks like there are some signs of construction, though the sand can't provide much in the way of a good foundation for permanent structures.

Willow suddenly inserts herself in between in the space between the Priest and the warrior. "City of junk. I've seen Nohbakim settlements with more order than this."

Captain Barnacle squawks and caws at the crew. "You're listing too far to the south! *KAW!* Get yer hides working, and give us plenty of room! I know it looks perfectly clear out there, but we're skirting a Forbidden Zone! If you all don't want to have to walk home, you'll be careful – " Barnacle makes his rounds by foot or by feather, snapping at the crew left and right.

Testament-Blaze looks to Willow, and signs, "That is the landing area. I am told there is more to see inside the Forbidden Zone … but that it cannot be seen from outside. I am being asked to go there."

The dancer turns to glance at Willow. Dark curls spill down over her spotted golden face, and the gold fades to snowy white under her chin. Ebon lines trace from her eyes along the sides of her muzzle, and she has eyes of the richest brown. By many standards, she would be considered beautiful … but there is the faint trace of an old scar on her lip, and a hint that there might be more hidden under fur.

"Might be a good idea." The Skreek glances over her shoulder and drops into sign. "I know that your armored friend here was trying to help you by cracking Blacktail's skull, but you can bet that him and his friends will pound on you double after your guardian leaves. I can't protect you. If I get in the way, you can bet that the other shiphands will torment you all the more just so they can get a rise out of me." She glances at the lady cheetah and sniffs idly at the air again, trying again to pick up a scent from her or her warrior companion.

Willow's head seems a little fuzzy for a moment. Perhaps it's from the sudden descent of the airship. She picks up a faint smell of perfume and a typical cheetah smell from the dancer. From the warrior, she picks up nothing. Not even body odor. And one would expect it to be cooking inside that armor.

Actually, on second thought, it seems fairly cool over here. The stranger seems to have picked a nice shaded spot to stand in.

Some of the fliers launch off the side of the craft to flank it as the craft continues its descent.

The Skreek takes a moment to rub her head, frowning to herself. "In all honesty, I'd be tempted to run to Abaddon myself… except I don't run from anything and I'm too blasted curious for my own good." She glances at the cheetah's lip and then up at her companion. "Isn't that armor hot?"

The warrior's visor turns to regard Willow. He shakes his head in the negative.

His armor definitely wins points for strangeness. It looks like something a Chronotopian would design. Only without a steam engine strapped to the back … and, frankly, it looks like it's missing pieces here and there. It looks somehow mechanical.

The airship continues its descent, slowing as it drops out of the wind and over a wide landing pad that could easily accommodate a craft twice the size of the Merryweather.

"Right." The Skreek sneezes and rubs her nose, dropping her hands into sign. "I'll ask you another question, then. Why don't you have a scent? The only living people I've met who don't have smells were magical. Why can't I smell you?"

"Environmentally sealed," signs the warrior.

"Assume I'm an idiot. What does that mean?" Willow signs. "I know you two are trying to be sneaky, so I won't ask too many pokey questions… but I'd rather not find out you were a dark god or something. I couldn't smell them either."

"I am no deity. I serve the Star. The air within this armor is separated from the air outside it. This armor uses technology, most of which does not work on Sinai," signs the warrior. "But it will work again on Abaddon."

The Skreek glances at the priest. "The Star… you mean his Star? The Star that wrecked my cart because it was carrying yorspice?"

Testament-Blaze signs, "If you do not believe in the Star, why do you place blame, when an unbeliever could place it upon the ice instead? But, yes, we serve the same Star."

"Because I don't believe in coincidences," Willow responds with a shrug. "I don't know what I believe anymore. When gods come up to me and ask me to get them flowers and candy it tends to confuse one's perspective."

Testament-Blaze signs, "There are many powerful people on this world who call themselves 'gods'. But so far as I know, they have no domain beyond Sinai. The Star is the creator of the universe."

The ship is now low enough that lines are cast, and the fliers swoop down to tether down the ship. Some of them appear to be chasing off ragged-looking persons of unknown species and short stature who seem to be inclined to "help" and get underfoot.

The Skreek shakes her head. "And nobody's met him, seen him, spoke to him or anything like that. I'm sorry, Testy, but I can't believe in anything that couldn't bother to help a dying rat in the hold of a ship. Half the people on Sinai would probably tell you that all the Star is, is the spotties' urge to create a master in their heads. A nice master that teaches them and is powerful and strong, but a master nonetheless." She shakes her head. "I don't even know where your Star came from. Your book talks an awful lot about things he's done, but not much about where he came from."

"The Star has influenced many lives. The Star did not come from anywhere, but has existed before the beginning of time. 'Gods' come and go, but the Star is eternal," signs the priest. "If, however, you mean to ask how we learned of the Star, my people learned from others. The Humans brought us word of the Star, though my ancestors slew the first who came to tell us. Though my ancestors were in conflict with the Humans, a few of their number – followers of the Star – sought to bring us the Light regardless, and would even do so with the risk of rejection – and death."

The airship lightly touches down. More securing ropes are cast and tied down, and the gangplanks set up.

Willow can't help but chuckle. "Gee, that sounds like someone I know." She looks back to the last cheetah and her armored friend, blocking her signs from the priest with her body. "Could you two please try to convince him to go back home with you? Despite his death wish, I don't want him to get hurt here anymore, and if he stays I'm going to feel responsible for him whether he likes it or not."

Captain Barnacle caws, "All right! The dirt gets moved first! And I know it's just dirt, but don't drop any of it, and don't let anyone touch it! Here, dirt is as good as iron, you got it?"

Testament-Blaze shakes his head. "I am willing to go. I can return later. I have been long away from Abaddon and my people." He looks to Willow. "I have much to thank you for, for your many kindnesses."

Several Kavis try to clamber up the gangplank, but a Rhian guard roughly pushes them aside. "Will help you move cargo, for just a simple meal!" "I can show great wonders of planets!" "I have a pass from the Temple, good for a journey through the Gateway! Will sell for only one copper!" "I know where you can find gold to trade for wood! There is planet where there is much gold but no wood! Will show you for small fee!"

The Skreek jumps as her signs aren't as hidden as she'd hoped. "At the very least you should rest up and replenish your book supply." She glances at the lady cheetah again. "Um, I know this is an odd question, but shouldn't you have a towel on your head if you're going to Abaddon?"

There's a glint of humor in the lady cheetah's eye as she looks up to Willow. Humor … and something else. This is no slave. Her eyes betray wells of power hidden in the shadows of her being. She takes up one of her gauzy drapes and wraps it about her face in a veil. "Thank you for your concern. I am prepared."

"The big fellow's your husband, isn't he? Test married you in the city, right?" Willow smirks. "I'm good with secrets, don't worry. Goodness knows I've plenty of my own."

There's a faint blush to the lady cheetah's ears. "It is as you sign."

"Congrats. I hope your future is happy. It looks like you've had some unhappy times in the past." Willow idly taps a spot on her lip with a blunted claw. She looks out at the makeshift city as if noticing it for the first time and sighs to herself.

The lady cheetah looks down with sad eyes vaguely seen through the veil, and she places her hand to her nape. She signs, "Again, what you sign is true. But the past is behind. I go to see a new world." She looks up, smiling at the warrior.

The town looks like quite a jumble of buildings and grounded craft. In fact, many of the buildings look as if they are nothing more than grounded craft that just never got back into the air again, and someone started building around the neglected wrecks.

However, there is also a circular area to the edge of the town, where details get blurry. There are several curved girders rising into the air … as if forming some sort of archway – a partially-built tunnel that leads off and then just … fades into the sands.

There are all sorts of people going about: not only the standard types you would see in the usual Sinai-spanning airship crews, but others as well. There are many men walking about in uniforms, with pointed helmets, most of them wearing face-masks with clear visors … but those who do not are clearly seen to be humans.

There are also several misshapen creatures skittering about, easily mistaken for bundled-up Kavis … except for the occasional odd wing or extra limb or spiny back. Nohbakim.

And then … it's a grook?! No! It looks like one of those strange creatures that was riding aboard that moving building – that "train" – that Willow saw through the pedestal … except that this one has a dusty-blue shell, and googly eyes.

Willow itches at the marks under her eye. ( I wonder if what Ariel said about someone being nice to Dagh meant anything… any more than what was meant by her saying that the Dagh I know might not be the same one. ) The Skreek shrinks down. "Goodness, quite a civilization that's built up here."

Testament-Blaze's head swivels to follow the movement of the powder-blue-not-a-grook. Although his facial expressions are hidden, Willow has learned enough of his body posture (and the twitch of his tail) to get a pretty good guess that he hasn't the slightest idea just what that creature is. (Or else maybe he is mentally connecting it to "grook", and being utterly confused.)

Captain Barnacle surveys the loads of dirt being rolled down the gangplank. Several of the uniformed humans meet with the Korv at the bottom, accompanied by a couple of Himaatian Khattas. One of the Khattas seems to be translating – the humans are speaking in Bosch, but with an exotic accent. Basically, it sounds like they're negotiating over the dirt that Barnacle just brought down on the Merryweather.

Barnacle seems to be a bit annoyed by the flowery "translations" given by the Khattas, who are obviously going to great lengths to play diplomat as well as translator.

Willow brushes herself off, trying to act calm. "Well, I see my time to earn my keep… if you'll excuse me." She heads towards the Captain, figuring that her own translating skills might be a bit more useful.

Barnacle caws, "Listen! I can tell he's speaking in Bosch. And not only do you not say things like that in Bosch … but I'm awfully suspicious when two words out of his mouth become a poem out of yours! *KAW!*"

Meanwhile, the human (in flavored Bosch), says something to the effect of, "Herr Captain, you are acting agitated. If you are not pleased with our offer, we shall fill our quota with the next ship's earth, then maybe come back to you tomorrow."

The Khatta translates it something like, "Oh, great captain of the airship that sails upon the breath of the gods, we apologize so many times until our tongues fall out that you are displeased with this offer. If this is not to your liking, we are so humble as to shrink from your sight … " and right in the middle of that blather is right when Willow gets to the scene.

"He said that you should calm down if you want to do business with him, Cap," Willow squeaks, hopping beside the Korv. She bows to the human, and switches to Bosch, "I'm Willow-the-Wisp, the shiptranslator. There's some difficulties in translation here and the cap is a bit more comfortable with me doing the work, if you'll allow?"

Barnacle lets the steam out. "Ah … Willow. Good to have you here. Ah … could you let him know I'm not upset with him, per se?"

"Gladly, sir," the Skreek says with a bow.

Meanwhile, the human nods, though plain as day, a look of disdain can be read on his face when he faces the rat. Perhaps Skreek reputations extend even beyond the Procession?

Willow winces a bit. ( Great. Time to play the humble little rat routine again. ) "Sir, the translation from the Khatta here is confusing my captain. He'd like you to know that his anger is not directed at you and would still dearly like your business."

The human nods. "Very well then, Herr Maus. I offer him five pounds of iron scrap for each load of dirt he has shown me. I wish to know if this is acceptable."

The Skreek nods and turns to the Korv, "Cap, he's offering five pounds of scrap for each load of dirt. Is that all right with you?"

The Korv's beak moves a bit, and it looks like his jaw was about to drop – at least, to Willow's eyes – but he's skilled enough to recover faster than an eye-blink. "That's a fair trade. You have a deal." He suppresses a smile.

"My captain finds it acceptable," Willow chitters back to the human. ( Good thing I brushed up on my Bosch… )

The human gives a curt nod, and he claps his hands, then starts barking orders to a bunch of all-too-happy-looking Titanians lounging around. Once the junk is being carted up his gangplank – and once the humans have left, he smiles openly, puffing his feathers proudly.

One of the Rhian crewmen looks alarmed at the sight of a smiling Barnacle, but quickly returns to his duty of warding off Kavi entrepreneurs (and pickpockets).

"Is there going to be time for shore leave, Cap? I want to say goodbye to Testy." Willow's tail swishes back and forth. "By the way, that shade at the front of the ship works like a charmer."

The Korv nods absently. "Sure, sure." Then, he gives Willow a puzzled look. "At the front of the ship? What shade?"

"Might have been that armor then. The front of the ship was nice and cool for once." The Skreek shrugs. "We doing any other business here besides loading dirt?"

Meanwhile, it looks like a bunch of carbon copies of Testament-Blaze (only most of them look more physically impressive, and are wearing nicer robes) are clustered over to one side of the docks. The cheetahs are exchanging signs with them, and the dancer has herself more thoroughly covered in veils.

Captain Barnacle caws, "I'm sending out Fasttrap and Twotongue to see if there are any deals we can work … maybe pick up some curios. The iron won't take up nearly as much space – or weight – in the hold as the dirt did."

The Skreek nods. "I'll try to keep close. I don't suppose Whitehead was one of the folks to jump ship in Olympia, was he?"

Barnacle shakes his head. "No." His expression sours. "He's probably hiding until all the loading is done. Again."

"I guess that means he can scrub the remaining bits of dirt out of the holds instead." Willow grins, digging in her shekel pocket. "I'll be back in a little bit. If Testy wants to join me, he can. I'll try not to be all that hard to spot." She bows and then hops down from the gangplank.

Several Kavis look in Willow's direction … then notice that it's just a Skreek … and leave her alone.

Willow makes a point of keeping her hands closed on her coin pouch, so she can feel any hands that might happen to pick her pocket. Apparently her feelings for the Kavi are mutual. She spits on the ground and then makes her way to the armored figures, hoping to spot the priest there.

The "city" here is a collection of landing platforms, grounded ships, tents, shacks, makeshift warehouses, and parked sand-triremes. One trireme looks to be a tavern, with a sign that reads, "DA DED GRIMLIN". By the loud noises coming from inside, and the decor, it appears to cater to Titanians. There are also several tents where enterprising Khattas sell assorted wares of varying utility – Not much attempt is made in setting up a store. It looks like this is just where they're camped, but as long as there might be a chance to score a shekel or two, they're prepared.

Testament-Blaze is picked out amongst the robed and armored group, standing next to the big warrior and his veiled bride. It looks like he's signing of his various adventures on Sinai.

At one point, he gestures to the veiled bride – prompting several bows from the Abaddonians.

"Would it be rude of me to interrupt?" Willow calls out as she gets close to the group. "I don't know when you're leaving and didn't want you to go without a chance to say goodbye."

Testament-Blaze turns to look at Willow, then signs to his companions, "This is Willow, the one I signed of!" Willow gets many head nods and signs of greeting.

"You have done well, Testament-Blaze," one of the robed ones signs, "but the passivity of your sect nearly got you killed many a time. This is no world for a priest, but rather for a warrior."

"Should I run now or not bother?" the Skreek signs. Her mouth quirks downwards slightly at the mention of a warrior.

Testament-Blaze exchanges quite a few signs with the other robed one. It's pretty much an argument on this point, and they exchange signs with such a practiced flurry that it's fairly hard to follow except to get the general gist. It seems that Testament-Blaze believes his holy book to portray the Star as a god of love and peace, whereas the other one believes that to trust the Star to protect one from all dangers – especially unbelievers – is foolhardy, and that one should use one's "Star-given talents" more aggressively. This continues on for a little bit, looking fairly repetitive, really, until it at last dies down.

Testament-Blaze signs, "This is no new dispute, my old friend. May we resume this at a later time? My benefactor may wish to ask questions of her own about our people."

The other robed one looks to Willow. "I am Gold-Hand, warrior-priest of the Star. Your people would call us the 'Silent-Ones'. Are you coming to Abaddon as well?"

"No. I'm just an airship hand," Willow signs. "Am I correct in assuming that all of you are Savanites… or… er… the same type of person the priest is? Spotted and all that?"

"We are not from this 'Savan'. But we are of the same People, yes." Gold-Hand turns toward the warrior and his bride. "There are differences between those of Abaddon and those of the Savan." There is a pause, and then he adds, "We have been apart many generations."

The Skreek nods, "I know you just ended a debate, but I'm curious. How is it that you can believe that the Star calls for warriors and the priest here believes that the Star calls for peaceful people… and yet still acknowledge that it's the same Star?" She thinks back to Dagh, and the person who might be Dagh, and the possibility that there might be two of them.

Testament-Blaze looks to Gold-Hand, then back to Willow. He signs, "In the Holy Books, there is written of a time in which the Chosen People fought against many enemies who did not follow the Star. What is more, these enemies did things abhorrent to the Star, such as sacrificing children, and partaking in drunken orgies, in the name of worshipping false gods. It was a time in which the Star led the Chosen People in battle against their enemies. But there was a later age, a new covenant. The Star taught us that we are to love one another. It has been a point hard to reconcile for ages. Do we love as individuals, but fight as nations? Was there a time for war, but now a time for peace? When is it necessary to fight? We do not agree upon all things."

The Skreek rubs her nose. "I'm no holy person, and far from anyone who should be considered an expert on religion, but I've seen the results of gods who believe that killing and death are the ultimate answers. The followers are all either frightened or bloodthirsty… or mad." She signs and looks at the priest, "Although I still don't know about Testament-Blaze's Star, I know that if there were more people like him in this world there would be less people like me."

Gold-Hand signs, "Testament-Blaze signs highly of you. Your point is confusing. Do you suggest that there should be less people like you?"

"He hasn't known me very long. I'd probably sign highly of anyone that pulled me out of a pile of brawling Titanians even if they only did it to spit in my face." Willow shrugs. "Just because you can't see the blood on my hands doesn't mean it's not there. I'm just a rat, and I've done more evils than even your Star could probably have the patience to forgive."

"No sin is unforgivable," signs Testament-Blaze, "save for the sin of never coming to repentance."

Willow just shakes her head.

Gold-Hand signs, "You are a most curious one, Willow-of-the-Wisp. Bold yet humble. Admitting your transgressions freely, yet condemning yourself before giving anyone else the chance. Are all your people like yourself?"

"Hardly," signs Willow, turning for a moment to face the warrior. "Most of my people are like the one-eyed letch that probably ogled your wife until you booted his rear." The Skreek shrugs again, turning to face Gold-Hand once more. "I was pirate once; my ship even did work in slave trading and I'm a slave-owner myself now. The only reason why I'm not like that anymore is because fate gave be a good crack on the head and circumstance allowed me to hide from anyone who might be looking to plant a knife in my back."

Gold-Hand seems to shrink back at a bit at Willow's admission of being a slave-owner. Testament-Blaze is quick to interject, "She treats them well. And if they were not in her care… "

The priest's reaction actually relaxes Willow a bit. That's what she's used to. "Don't make excuses for me, Testy."

Gold-Hand signs, "Testament-Blaze, you tolerate slavery of our own people? What depths have you sunk to, in order to gain favor with this world?" At that, the priest spins on his heel and marches off, ignoring Testament-Blaze's fumbled attempts to explain. Testament-Blaze turns to Willow, signing, "Please, do not think ill of him. We are a proud people, and do not like to think of any of our brethren serving as slaves. It is a matter of strong emotion."

The Skreek just waves a hand. "It's all right. Let him think of me however he wants. I'll freely confess that the only reason why I own slaves is because I'm a coward."

Testament-Blaze signs, "You are the bravest coward I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, Willow of the Wisp."

"Just remember that its wasn't me that fished you out of the Titanian pile." Willow shrugs and looks to see if any of the other armored figures are still assembled, or if they left with the other priest.

Most of them appear to be in the process of leaving. The heavily armored warrior and his wife still remain, though, along with another priest that Willow hasn't been introduced to, and another who – it's really hard to tell – might be a priestess.

"So what about you?" The Skreek signs to Jezebel. "Why do you want to leave Sinai and go to Abaddon? I know the looks of a slave and know that you're most assuredly no slave. Are you seeking a better life, or something else?"

The dancer smiles to Willow, her expression muted by the veil. "I seek a better life, yes, but not in the way most would measure it." Her smile sobers. "My hands have been stained many times with blood. I have committed countless sins. I shall not engage in a contest of transgressions with you, save to say that my actions would be worthy of death. But there was one who had every right to see me as an enemy, yet he not only spared me, but showed me a better way."

The dancer signs, "I have been free, and I have been a slave. I have been in the lowest of positions, and I have had authority over others. I have been poor and wealthy. But no position was any better or worse than the other, until I found hope beyond myself … a hope in something greater than myself."

Willow's cold expression softens as she feels a pain of understanding in the signs. Still, she was able to dance out of joy, and married someone that seems to care for her. "What… the Star?"

The lady cheetah nods. "Yes, the Star. I do not claim that my path is easy. I came to the Star seeking love … yet I marry a warrior … and the one who pushed me toward the Star – and introduced me to my husband – is perhaps the greatest warrior I have ever heard of. Nothing is so simple. But I am suspect of easy answers."

"Well… " The Skreek bites her lip. "Stay close to Test. He's starved himself so others can eat, put himself in danger to save the lives of others, and never once made a sign of complaint when he was mistreated. I know I call him crazy, but I'd sooner trust the signs of a man who risks so much and asks for nothing in return, than the signs of someone who might feel the urge to crack my head open with his axe if I fall, even if I sometimes feel like I deserve it." The Skreek shakes her head. "I wish I could find faith like yours, but it's so hard to trust something like the Star, for me at least. And even if all sins can be forgiven, it would mean I would have to forgive myself."

"Yes, it is hard. Even once I chose my current path, I have fallen many times. But the Star gives me strength. I still feel the pain of the wrongs I've done … but I have seen those I have wronged look back to me with love instead of hatred. Those who had every right to wish me dead. How much more have I wronged the Star? If they can forgive me … then I can forgive myself," signs the lady cheetah. "Hatred, even of yourself, is no virtue. It will destroy you. It would have destroyed me, except for the sacrifices of my dearest – undeserved – friends."

Willow's head drops. "So how did you stop hating yourself?"

"Slowly," answers the lady cheetah. "I haven't finished the road by any means. I still am petty. I still want vengeance against those who slight me. I still get unreasonably angry. And sometimes I simply hate myself. But I remember the unwarranted love shown me. My friend loved me without demanding anything in return. I had never known such a love. He did not seek to take advantage of me … even though I at times tried to tempt him, to reassure myself that he was no better than any other man."

"But when I realized that his care for me was genuine, and without any demands, I had to respect him. And if I were to hate that which he loved … how could I really respect him? Could I consider him a fool?" the dancer signs.

The Skreek glances back at the ship. Even though she'd never admit it to anyone, never tell him… she knows someone like the dancer's description. She chuckles bitterly – the very type of person that turned this Savanite to the Star is also the same type of person that made the Abaddonian priests leave the Skreek's presence because he happened to be her slave.

"I am not enamored of myself," signs the dancer. "I forced myself to stop hating myself, for the sake of my friend. And in time, as I learned of the Star, I saw this love as a model of the care the Star has for me. The Star acted through my dearest friend even before he himself came to claim the Star. The Star works in mysterious ways."

Willow's ears flatten and she takes a step back. "Are you real? I couldn't smell you before… the air was cool where you stood. The way you talk is almost like you're my twin, like you know me or know about me. The only other person who knew so much claimed to be a goddess… "

The dancer shakes her head. "I am no goddess, though I once tried to make myself one. I was once a shamaness amongst my people. My gift is in shadows, with magic created by my dances. I can conceal myself to various senses, and shade myself against the burning sun. I go to Abaddon with some trepidation, for I know my powers will not work there."

The Skreek seems only halfway convinced. "That would explain why Burr didn't like you." She hugs her arms together, an odd gesture in the burning heat. "If you're a shamaness, that means you're from Sinai and not from Abaddon. Maybe you can answer the question that I'm having trouble with. What is the Star? I've had dinner with Dagh, shared a friendly chat with Ariel, had an oracle of Primus tell me I'm fated for something… Is the Star like one of them?"

"It would seem the 'gods' and 'goddesses' have become restless. I have had my own strange encounters. But, no, the Star is not like any of them. My powers will fail me on Abaddon, but the Star is there no less. The name of 'Dagh' is unknown on Abaddon, but the Star is known in both places," signs the lady cheetah.

Willow jerks her head up. "Restless? How do you mean?"

The former shamaness signs, "During one of my adventures with my friend, we awoke an avatar of a goddess of death. Although we thought to have destroyed her, she nearly killed me in a later encounter. I have heard other tales of the return of the gods and goddesses. The Babelites and Nagai, who have declared war together against Rephidim, have made claims of their 'gods' returning. I do not discount all their claims. But at the same time, I do not deem them true deity."

The Skreek bites her lip. "Death goddess? Er… is her name Amaranth?"

The lady cheetah signs, "Amenlichtli. Necropolis. Amaranth was but one of her puppets, defeated by my friend."

"She almost killed me too. Technically she did kill me, but it's amazing what a little bit of life magic and a name change will do." Willow smirks, rubbing the fur on her hand. "Glad to hear she was dealt with. I bailed the city before I ever heard what became of her, and have been too scared to set foot back in Rephidim ever since."

"Many died by her hand and that of her servant, an Exile that she turned into yet another puppet of Amenlichtli. But in the end, both were destroyed," signs the cheetah. "I am sad to say that many innocents died before that happened."

The Skreek nods. "I was in the middle of most of it. Do you know anything more about the gods in Babel? Or heard mention of Dagh? I know these are odd questions… but… er… gods seem to have an odd interest in me for some strange reason, and I'd like to know if there's anyone else I need to watch out for."

The lady cheetah slowly shakes her head. "I have heard very little – This has all happened during our journey from Olympia to here, and I only know of it what I picked up from my friends at the places where we stopped along the way. The High Princess of Babel has claimed to be contacted by the Seven Sisters, and entrusted with a 'holy' quest against Rephidim. Of those, Sunala, Goddess of Death and Matron of Assassins, is the most feared."

"Ah. So it's probably just a load of political scrud and justifications." Willow shakes her head. "Most of the gods that seem to take an interest in me are around Nordika and Himar anyway. I suppose I'm safe from Babelite gods."

The cheetah inclines her head. "I have no fear of false deities anymore. They may have power to harm me in this world … but they have no claim over my soul in the next."

Willow almost chuckles wryly again, but catches herself and instead just snuffs a sharp breath out of her nostrils. "You have impressive faith. I can't grasp the power behind it, but I do respect it. I'd ask for some kind of sign, but I'm afraid that most of the signs I've gotten were ones that made me regret ever asking, or I just never got anything at all."

Under the veil, the lady cheetah smiles faintly. "Mere mortals can call down fire from the heavens, and make the dead return to life, by all appearances. But the greatest sign I have ever witnessed is a heart changed. Spells may confuse the mind, but never have I seen magic capable of transforming a heart from hatred to lasting love."

"Your friend again, right? Sounds too good to be true. I'm expecting you to say next that he rides a fiery charger stallion and is a king in some far off land." The Skreek droops again.

The lady cheetah covers her muzzle with a hand, though her dimly seen eyes betray a smile. "It is not too good to be true. My friend has his confessions to make as well. His youth was filled with hatred and violence. It is only this past year that he finally reconciled with his own father. If I had not met such a person, I would think him too good to be true." She looks to the warrior beside her, who has remained both still and silent so long. "I would sign the same of this one. But cynicism cannot replace wisdom. Love is very real, and very powerful, and to deny it is to lose the greatest thing of all."

"Your words hurt, they hurt more than having my arm broken or finding out that my father tried to kill me and eventually murdered my mother." Willow shrugs. "Seems like I only get to feel love by looking at it from the outside or experiencing it through other people. The only people who ever offer it to me always have ulterior motives… "

"Is that really true? Even the most selfless act of love can be explained away as self-serving, if one is sufficiently creative and determined," signs the cheetah, shaking her head. "But we are all fallible. Every last one. As highly as I sign of my friend, even he has had his failings." She pauses, then signs, "I cannot and do not wish to force anything upon you. All I can do is tell you of my experience – and of the belief I have come to – and only lately at that."

The Skreek glances back at her airship again. "I don't know if it's true. Just that the people I ever dared to show feelings for smacked me in the face for it. It doesn't hurt as much if I just pretend to be a rat." She suddenly realizes what she just blurted out and promptly puts her hands over her mouth, her ears blushing bright red.

There's a glint of light off of something under the veil of the cheetah, running down her tearmark. There's another glint just under the headband that covers her forehead. "I have pretended to be things as well. Things I am too ashamed to sign of." She looks up to Willow, and tentatively, hesitantly reaches out with one hand.

Willow keeps her hands over her mouth. She's visibly trembling. If a gust of wind hit her, she'd probably topple over right now. Her eyes are stinging red and the battle to hold her emotion in is obvious, even through her shaded hands.

The cheetah lady carefully lays a hand on Willow's shoulder, as if she were handling something delicate, made of glass or something even more fragile. With her free hand, she signs, "You matter."

The Skreek closes her eyes shut, but with that one gesture the walls inside shatter. As her eyes reopen, a drop of moisture falls from the corner of her right eye, flowing over the black marks below it. She peels a hand free from her mouth and makes one simple sign: "Why?"

The cheetah lady reluctantly retrieves her hand and slowly signs, "The Star made you, loves you, wishes the best for you. We cannot see, understand it all, have so much to learn. But the first is to love. We all have that need in our hearts. We all have that truth, that quiet whisper, deep in our hearts. All of us. Savanite, Skreek, Khatta, Human, Vartan, Kavi, Nohbakim … all." She pauses, then adds, "But not all of us listen. Please … please listen."

Willow pulls her other hand free and weakly grasps the dancer's shoulder. "Why didn't it help me? Why didn't it save me from Himar, from the pirates? Why did all of my sisters have to die as babies, and why did it let me almost kill that poor little kid just because I was jealous? I can understand Rephidim… I deserved Rephidim, I'll even accept the broken cart, but the rest is too much." She doesn't seem to care that she's making a scene, blurting out all her darkest secrets, or bawling like a baby in front of everyone anymore. She might not even be completely aware of it all.

The cheetah lady signs, "We live in a fallen world. A world in which a child born free can be captured and turned into a … a plaything because someone decided she was just an animal for not being able to speak. A world in which she managed to return, only to find more heartbreak at home. I do not blame the Star! We live in a broken world. Some of the evils that befall us are because of the sins of complete strangers. And sometimes it is nothing but a twist of fate or nature. But it is not what happens to you that defines you, and where you belong in eternity. It is what you do with what you've been given."

The Skreek puts a hand to her face and then pulls it back, looking at the bits of moisture there as she slowly sinks to her knees in the sand. "I wish I'd known your friend."

"I wish so, too," signs the lady cheetah. "And I hope that some day I may be such a friend. I can't hope to be a knight in shining armor, and I've never been a hero. But that doesn't make this any less true for you. I … I see so much of myself in you, for some reason."

The lady cheetah kneels as well, mindless of the sands working their way into her silks and fur.

"Nobody's ever cried for me. Never in my life." Willow scrubs an arm across her face before looking up to the cheetah. "You've managed to hurt me, scare me, and pull a dozen other emotions out of me more easily than any other person. Not Burr, not my brother, not Testament-Blaze, not even Dagh came close."

For a long time, the lady cheetah is just silent, kneeling in front of Willow.

The Skreek pounds a fist against the sand. "If you know me, you know what you're asking of me. You know that it would be easier to ask me to slam a rusty dagger in my chest… and you know what it'll do to me if I'm betrayed one more time."

"What the Star asks of us can seem so little, yet so much," signs the lady cheetah with faintly trembling hands. "And I have feared being betrayed. I fought so hard to keep my walls up, never to trust anyone, never to take that chance. But if I had kept them up, I would have suffocated. The chance is worth taking. The alternative is … " She spreads her empty hands apart.

Willow nods. A little part of her is feverishly trying to think of excuses, of reasons to get up and just walk away… but her feet don't seem to want to move. She swallows and wipes her eyes dry. "So what do I have to do… ?" Her voice is soft, as though she were afraid that Dagh himself was listening and would strike her down from the sky the moment the first sound left her lips.

The cheetah doesn't answer right away … but instead fumbles around in the folds of her dress … until the armored warrior hands her a handkerchief. She daubs at her face for a bit, then tucks away the cloth. "Sorry." She pauses a moment to regain her composure, then signs, "The Star is watching and listening. Just ask the Star to show you the Light – to come into your heart. All of your guilt, all of your shame … it doesn't matter any more. Just give it over to the Star, and ask for forgiveness, and for the Star to change your life. Ask … and you will receive."

The Skreek wipes her tangled black hair from her face. "Is that what you did?"

The lady cheetah quietly nods, smiling faintly.

"Nothing else. I don't have to slash my wrists or swear to die for anyone or anything like that?" Willow's tone is shaky, as though she was trying to find the teeth in the whole thing.

"No, you don't have to do any such thing," signs the lady cheetah. "The Star doesn't require such things of us."

Willow looks between the lady cheetah, her husband, and Testament-Blaze. She shrinks down a little as she realizes that she's kneeling like this in the middle of a large crowd. "If this is a lie, it'll kill me. I can't live through another one." She bites her lip. "I'm scared."

The cheetah kneels with Willow. She smiles despite herself, signing, "You know what? In a way, I'm scared, too. But it's not a lie. It's more true than anything I've ever known."

The Skreek feels cold despite the heat and the sun above her. This isn't about pride. Even if she gets up and walks away right now without doing anything, she'll still have cried her eyes out in the sand in the midst of a bunch of spotties. This isn't about fear, as taking on this burden would only add more fear to her. She takes a moment to listen to the little voice inside that she's listened to whispers from every so often… but never really paid much attention to except for heeding a whisper or two.

"All right. Just tell me what I need to say and I'll say it." Willow closes her hand in the sand, feeling the grains between her fingers.

The cheetah unclasps her hands from a moment of Savanite silence, and signs, "I'll try. There are no magic words here. No magic spell. If you had no lips to speak or hands to sign, the Star could still see and hear your plea. But… " She presses her hands together a moment, touching them against her brow, then begins to sign…

"Bright and Morning Star, source of light and life, I recognize my guilt and my sin," she signs, "and I humbly ask your forgiveness… "

Willow swallows and starts to speak the cheetah's signs out loud, but for once she's not simply translating. "Bright and Morning Star, source of light and life, I recognize my guilt and my sin and I humbly ask your forgiveness… "

"… I ask to receive your free gift. Please save me from this world and from myself. Please come into my heart and change it," the cheetah signs with trembling hands.

"I ask to receive your free gift." The Skreek pauses and bites her lip again, a gesture she picked up from Morning-Mist. "Please save me from this world and from myself. Please come into my heart and change it."

"Please teach me to love," signs the cheetah, "not to let my life be dominated by anger and hatred."

Willow's ears droop. She doesn't want to say that… but… doesn't she truly want it? For a moment it doesn't seem like she's going to continue, or she's having second thoughts, but finally she continues again. "Please teach me to love and not to let my life be dominated by anger and hatred."

"I put my trust in you from this moment forward, and I thank you, signs the cheetah, and then she makes the sign at the end that seems to be the traditional way that Testament-Blaze ends his prayers. It might translate as "Amen."

Trusting isn't easy for Willow either, but if she can speak the rest, she can speak this part as well. "I put my trust in you from this moment forward and I thank you… amen." She slowly raises a hand up and pats herself, checking to see if she's still there.

Yes, she's still there. And so is a lady cheetah that suddenly and without warning throws her arms around the rat, sobbing on her shoulder!

Willow stiffens like a ramrod, her instant reaction whenever someone hugs her. Slowly her spine starts to bend again and she puts her arms around the cheetah in return. She sniffs a bit, trying not to get any tears on her clothing, but it's a losing battle. Finally Willow just sags completely, all the energy drained out of her by this outpour that's been held inside for so long. "It's funny… I was sad for a while because even though I had four sisters, I never met any of them. I was supposed to be the baby sister of the family, and I missed knowing what a real sister was like." She pulls back a little. "Now I think I know."

The cheetah looks a bit disheveled now, but she's smiling back at Willow.

"You're a mess. I suppose I look like a mess too." The Skreek slowly tries to get back up to her feet. "So now… what do I do? Will I have to set Burr and Thorn free? If someone attacks me or one of my friends, will I not be able to fight back?"

The armored warrior helps both the cheetah and rat back up to their feet.

Jezebel signs, "One thing at a time. I would personally recommend setting your slaves free … but I am not so certain that they would leave if given the choice. … "

The lady cheetah looks off to what looks like a makeshift inn. "We can go inside, where it is cool, and sign of many things."

"I've told Burr that he can leave anytime he wants, but he'd have nowhere to go. He doesn't like the City of Hands because of their Mage-Queen, and probably wouldn't like the new settlement in Sylvania because the head fellow there has admitted being friends with her." Willow wipes her face again. "Dinner's on me; just don't be surprised if I don't eat all that much." She pinches herself again. ( I don't feel any different… )