The day after the Test of Truth, Mage Yffryn, as acting Dean of Dreams, requested of Ambassador Dunbarre that Lt. de Bellefeuille's amulet of Sifran crystal be temporarily turned over to the College for their study. With some misgivings, Elise complied. Later that afternoon, a courier returns the amulet with the dream mage's thanks.

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The darkness is so absolute that the white poodle finds it disorienting, as if she can no longer remember where she is or what she is doing, until a familiar Eeee voice resonates above her. "I do not think your First Ones will be helping either of us." Now she recalls herself, her position, kneeling on the floor of Cyprian's room as he stands over her. Though she cannot see it, she senses as he lowers one hand towards her head, fingers spread and tense, but not quite touching. "And even now I fear to sleep, for I do not think I will find any solace from my own gods, either. Elise," his voice turns gravelly with effort, "what I am trying to tell you is this: the last several days have been hideous and I am not expecting any immediate relief, and at this point all I really want to do is hurt someone, and if you do not leave now then I. Will. Hurt. You." His fingers clench into a fist, and she can feel them just brushing over her hair with the motion – then he draws his arm away.

The poodle stands up slowly and as usual reaches to steady her sword, but pauses. She glances back over her shoulder toward the door for a moment before looking back in the direction she assumes the Eeee to be in. "If that is what you want then, by all means … I am a soldier, if what you need is to strike someone, then … it would best be me, would it not? I am as much a part of this as you are, 'tis not fair for you to endure the pain alone." She changes her stance and assumes a sparring position.

Cyprian laughs again, a strangled sound, like a drowning man. He seizes her sword hand and drags it to him, spreading her fingers and flattening them against the bare fur of his chest. "Did I say I would hit you, Elise?" he whispers, and his voice is chilling with cruelty. "No. I said I would hurt you. I have some ideas for the best ways to hurt you, Elise, and none of them involve hitting you."

The poodle staggers forward, far more expecting to be knocked back then pulled closer. Her left hand clenches in nervous anticipation of what may come, even if she doesn't know fully what he intends. Her eyes clench shut. "If it will help you … " is all she says.

"Ah, sweet capitulation." Cyprian leans close to her, the breath from his words stirring her fur, almost whispering in her ear, though the hand that holds hers presses it painfully to his chest. He reaches to her cheek with his other hand, fingers brushing gently against her fur. "If it will help me," he echoes, the surface of his tone considering, almost pleasant, but dark, angry undertones lurk beneath it.

Due to the painful strain put on her sword arm Elise twists slightly, holding her eyes shut that much harder. Her tail begins to flick nervously and when she isn't wincing she speaks. " … I forgive you," she says, short like her previous words.

The fingers against her cheek smooth the short white fur there, and she can hear the trace of a smile in his voice as he speaks again. "Advance absolution, my dear?" His muzzle hovers close to her ear. "You don't even know what you are forgiving me for, yet. Or is this only forgiveness for what I have done so far, Elise?" A soft chuckle tickles the wispy fur inside her ear. "Believe me when I say – this is nothing compared to what I have in mind."

"I forgive you for what you are doing, Cyprian. I forgive you for your anger for I cannot say it is unfounded … But … I … " Drawing her head back slightly Elise shifts her sword hand, trying to draw it back with minimum force. She shakes her head and searches the darkness for a face. "I … do not know you now."

In the unyielding blackness, the poodle imagines she catches a glimpse of white – perhaps from a fang – as the dark bat speaks again. "You never knew me, my dear," he murmurs, the chill taste still in his voice. As she shakes her head, he lets his hand slide from her cheek down her neck. The hand pressing hers to his chest loosens its hold, but he steps closer as if to make up for it, so that now her fingers rest at a more comfortable angle against his chest. He speaks again, and it takes her a moment to recognize the words as a chant rather than a foreign tongue – at about the time that she genuinely does see something: the green glow of his eyes, hovering close to her face.

The poodle moves to protest this intrusion against her personal space, hand reaching away from his chest slightly, but stops when green eyes light before her. A green hue highlights the Templar's face in a look of surprise punctuated by fear. "C-Cyprian," she finally protests, her words far shorter than what she intended. Cut short by sudden fear.

The fingers against her neck shift again, to touch her ear for a moment, and by the light from his eyes, the poodle sees the mage smile at the fear in her voice. A moment later, Cyprian completes the chant, and the light in his eyes dies, leaving her in the dark again. "Yes?" The single word conveys confidence, control, relaxation – everything the poodle, at this moment, lacks in herself.

As the spell comes to completion Elise and the light fades, Elise closes her eyes and looks away even as the darkness conceals the Eeee's face just the same. Her hand on his chest suddenly twitches, and then jerks back just as suddenly. "Nnn … " she cries quietly, her brow creasing as she attempts what to force the intensified feelings out of her mind – and others that accompany them. "C-cease this … please, Cyprian … "

"Stop what, Elise? I thought you wanted to help me." The mage's voice is mild, with the faintest hint of rebuke in it. His fingers linger for just moment longer against her ear, then his hand drops away, leaving Cyprian merely standing there, still just inches away, but nowhere touching her.

"I do … but … I cannot … " She stumbles over the words, finding the ideas as hard to comprehend as the words are to say. "I d-do Cyprian but … but … I … " Her hand, which had been touching the Eeee's chest a moment ago, begins to shake ever so slightly. "Cannot… "

"You said you were strong, Elise," Cyprian whispers, and it seems to her that he makes no other move, no other hint of sound or rustling in the blackness. "You said you could endure it. Whatever I might say. Now you cannot? Or will not?" he asks. His voice, again, holdS that almost-normal quality to it, as if he were merely concerned and looking for a better understanding. But beneath that, a hint of disappointment, a sense of having been betrayed.

There is no response from the lady poodle, not a single word in the dark. She simply moves her left hand, closing it, to lay against her chest as she shifts her head back to face Cyprian. She opens her eyes only briefly and finds them useless, so she closes them again and lowers her head.

Soft clicks seem loud in the sudden silence, until Cyprian breaks it again to say, his voice gentle, "Talk to me, Elise. If you will not let me touch you, at the least, talk to me. I want to know what you are thinking, what you are feeling. Please."

"Cyprian … " begins the poodle, her voice calming some now that she feels the Cyprian to have done similar. "It is no mystery to me that you have a great temper … but even within the dreams, I have not seen this intensity. This … malice. You would … would force my hand to you but you must realize I cannot … cannot … touch you. It, cannot, be."

"You cannot touch me?" His mild voice holds confusion. "You've touched me before, my lady, in dreams, in the real world. What harm is in that – the comforting contact of one sentient being to another? What are you thinking of, my lady, that makes it seem impossible?"

Elise lowers her hands to her side for now, looking up and staring into the darkness. "There are certain limits, Cyprian, one must observe. Before as much as we had touched was but a simple hug, and further within a dream, a kiss. But that … that is where it must stop, Cyprian … for we are not married … nor can … " Letting her sentence end unfinished Elise tilts her head to the side slightly, gently. "You do understand, do you not?"

A chuckle drifts through the darkness. "Of course I understand." She feels the flow of air in the room as he turns away from her, his wings stirring new currents, and she hears the mage chanting again.

The poodle's head shifts again, trying as she might to find him in the dark and searching for the light she knows is created from magic. "Cyprian? What is it you are … casting?" she inquires, a hint of confusion on her voice.

A nimbus of grayish light flickers at his outline, illuminating the shaft of a wing here, the curve of an arm there as it moves through ritual gestures, but the mage does not respond to Elise's inquiry, only continues his chant.

Knowing better than to interrupt a chanting mage, and though greatly uncertain of the mage's intent, Elise does not move to interrupt him or speak further. Though he is angry, she thinks, he is still Cyprian and she will not let her curiosity or worry endanger them. Thus she folds her hands in front of herself and waits, head tilted curiously.

Cyprian stops chanting after a few more minutes, but the gray nimbus doesn't vanish, just twines lazily about him, a haze that illuminates little save itself. "Do you remember the first time we danced, Elise?" he asks, not turning around to face her.

"Of course Cyprian. It was within the fantasy ball of Inala, back when I was much as Envoy is now with a glamour set about me … You sought out my hand to dance … " She frowns, recalling what else occurred that night, and inhaling before releasing it in a sigh. Perhaps the most wonderful and terrible night she can recall.

"You were the most beautiful person at the ball. The loveliest vision I had ever seen, then or since. Even with what happened after, I still remember the way you looked, the way you felt in my arms, your voice in my head… your mouth against mine." Cyprian turns his head to look over his shoulder, and the canine immediately sees the single, glowing green eye in the profile of his face. "Do you remember how it felt?"

As the Eeee talks Elise's gaze drops, studying the dark as if the words he spoke were written in the shadows. When he finishes she does not immediately react, only staring into space and considering. Eventually, however, she does nod and level her gaze on that single visible eye. "It was wonderful. I still think fondly of it, the time before it fell apart, as one of the better moments in my life," she answers quietly.

"Would you like to feel it again, if only for a moment?" the man asks, his voice still gentle.

"I cannot see why not. It was wonderful, real or not … " replies Elise.

The dark mage pivots to face her again, a half-smile on his face, and the light fades from his eyes as the gray nimbus twines away from him and snakes into the poodle – leaving them, a moment later, in darkness once again.

Sudden emotions come heavily to the poodle Templar, who quite usually is used to repressing such things. Her eyes flash wide for a moment and then squint shut just as fast. She buckles at the knees and unfolds her right hand to clutch her head. "I remember … " she tells the Eeee. "Very, disorienting … but I remember it."

She hears his footstep as he takes the single stride necessary to close with her, and Cyprian hesitates for a moment, before one placing hand on her shoulder, as if to steady her. "Relax," he murmurs. "You will enjoy it, if only you let yourself."

A deep breath, and then an exhale. Elise slowly draws herself up and, after brushing her hair back with the same hand that was holding her head a moment ago, smiles faintly into the dark. "I am not used to it … so much feeling … I, had forgotten it was so wonderful. I suppose memories do not do true moments justice without a helping hand," she says.

"Everything benefits from a little assistance, now and then." The Eeee brings his free hand to her chin, fingertips just brushing against it as he tilts her face toward his own, then leans in to kiss her, the motion tender, exquisitely careful, like a man reaching to touch a butterfly on a flower, afraid it will fly away.

Elise's mouth moves to protest once again, but the silent protest is made non-existent by the touch of his hand against her chin. She stares at him in hazy disbelief, the mental argument being drowned out by magic-induced echoes of a former time. As the Eeee's lips near the poodle's her eyes half-shut and she tilts her head to meet him.

After initiating the kiss without protest, Cyprian holds it, with gentle, nuzzling motions. His fingers drift down her jawbone towards the nape of her neck, while the hand on her shoulder circles around her back, drawing her body closer to his in an embrace.

Faint and muffled sounds of protest seem to do little to change the course of things. Perhaps there for the simple appearance of protesting, though the stiffness in the body of the poodle hints that they may be more than a mere service to modesty. She genuinely seems to tense at the action, and her hands once at her side lift to hover over the Eeee's waist as if unable to embrace him at all.

The mage lets the kiss end so that he may slide his cheek along hers, following the path of his fingers down her jawline. "What are you afraid of, my dear?" he asks, quiet, curious. "Of enjoying yourself? Of pleasing me? Or am I simply not worth your time?" He begins to chant again, lifting his hand from her neck that he may use it to gesture, though he doesn't otherwise pull away.

" … afraid … " repeats the poodle after the kiss breaks. Her head tilts slightly so as to brush against the Eeee's in simple affection. "I am afraid," she admits in a whisper, nodding slightly. The emotions of the moment serve to add clarity to her thoughts on the matter, unclouded by such things as the great sting of taboo she had felt before. It still however clings to her mind, unwilling to let go fully. "You are different. You are an Eeee. Not even a Gallah … "

The mage continues his chant as Elise speaks, stroking his free hand down her side, the fingers seeming to trace an unknown pattern against the fabric of her robe, which feels strangely thin, with his body pressed to hers. He touches his nose to the armored collar of her uniform, his chant maintained, unbroken.

Tilting her head to make room for the Eeee's head, Elise looks up into the dark. "Taboo, Cyprian. I am afraid … What would people think of me … " she explains is barely audible whispers to her, but loud enough for him. As the hands trace her frame she occasionally squirms as if in a nervous reaction bred to the bone.

After perhaps a minute of chanting, the string of strange words ends, and the mage says, instead, "What would people think, Elise?" he asks, lifting his head so that she may see his face, once more illuminated by the glow of enchantment. "How important are these "people" to you? Can you keep no secrets from them?"

"I will know, Cyprian … You may not know of this, but it is implied a Gallee seek other Gallee of their breed. As it has been for as long as the Procession moves," explains the poodle, again in a quiet whisper. She lowers her head again so it hovers above his before she lets it come to rest, her muzzle buried in his slight head fur. "I can maintain my secrets … but I hate that there need be secrets at all … as if our love is so terrible it must be hidden away, a secret, to terrible to be known … "

"Better to kill it now, then," the bat says, the bitterness that tainted his voice earlier returning. "Best for you to forget about me and my little problems, and return to your secure, approved life on Rephidim." He closes his eyes, standing erect before Elise, his hands falling to his sides.

In response Elise lifts her head and straightens, letting her hands fall back to her side. "I am sorry Cyprian … " she shakes her head slightly, " … but you asked my mind, and I spoke true. It concerns me."

"This is hardly the first time I have been the least important among concerns." Cyprian doesn't re-open his eyes as he speaks, leaving only the occasional gray haze around him to indicate his position to Elise. "I survive. I thought, when you chose to stay, it would be otherwise – but no matter. I survive." He speaks with a level calmness that does not quite mask the pain underlying his words, and he finishes with a single unintelligible syllable, the gray smoke fading out from around him.

"I do not want to leave you Cyprian. But these … these matters are there. I am … I am truly sorry for them. I … I so wanted to comfort you and I have done nothing but harm … I do not wish to pain you, Cyprian … " A hand lifts and she reaches for the Eeee. "Cyprian … these concerns … I am sorry," she says again.

"A pity that intentions do not count for more, and actions for less, my lady," the bat says, holding himself stiffly, not responding to her proffered hand. Of course, in the darkness the gesture would be easy for a Gallee to miss – but an Eeee should notice it.

A frown. "I am doing what I can Cyprian … but tradition … it is stronger than you or I. It, is more important than either of us. That is how I was raised," she tells him. Another shake of the head and she lets her hand fall, turning away so he cannot echo-locate the image of her pained expression. "Why must you guilt me so? It pains me deeply, to see you suffer and I can do nothing to what you seem to wish of me … "

"Did you come here for absolution, Elise? I thought you were handing that out, not I." She hears his footsteps as he crosses the room, brushing past her as he strides towards the door. "I was raised to believe that one is responsible for one's own actions. That you do not say "I cannot" when you really mean, "I will not."" The glow that had vanished moments ago builds again, as the mage once more begins to chant.

"Then I … will not, Cyprian. I cannot in good conscience betray my lineage … " says Elise. Her voice is pained, ragged in its strain. To be forced to deny Cyprian is his time of need is a pain to her heart. She lifts a hand again from her side to rub at her temple as if struck by a headache. Undoubtedly one inflicted by guilt, and heartache.

As before, the Eeee mage chooses to continue his spell rather than respond to her comment, and the sound of his chant grows to dominates the room, lines of magic flickering around his body. By the fey glow, the canine can see that he stands before the door, facing toward her, while he casts.

The aching pain does not subside, for the scene is a constant reminder. Five years of waiting, of dreaming, only become this most unpleasant situation. A voice deep in her mind reminds her she could not ignore this situation forever, she knew it would come. Still, curiously she lifts her head just enough to be able to vaguely make out the Eeee through strands of fallen curly hair, the hand upon her temple only partially keeping her hair from her eyes.

Whatever spell he is working, he seems to be taking more care with it than the previous ones, as minutes trickle past with no sound but the steady beat of words that are so much gibberish to Elise, and no motion from the Eeee save his gestures. His emerald gaze fixes on her face, and the light from them seems cold and indifferent.

Meanwhile the poodle officer watches Cyprian with a sad and haggard expression, face half masked by a cascade of curly hair across her face. She does not say anything else for the moment. Only watching, curious and tired.

After a period of time which seems like it could be five minutes or five hours, for all she can tell in the oppressive near-darkness, the chant concludes, and the mage stands at the door with his jaw set, watching her. "Why are you still here?"

"I do not know … " She lifts her head more fully, letting the stray locks remain where they fall for now. "Because maybe, despite it all … I still care … though it might mean nothing to you."

"What does your caring mean to you?" he asks, taking the half-dozen steps needed to cross the room and stand before her, uncomfortably close, and yet not touching.

"How can I put words to it?" answers Elise with a question. She shakes her head again and searches for the Eeee's eyes. "It would be no lie to say that I care for you, Cyprian. But I did not know it would become reality. That we would stand so close … I, think you knew there would be so many problems … But … it means I enjoy your company, that your welfare is of concern to me … I am sorry, I know it must sound like a great contradiction. But is not so black and white as you might see it."

A smile ghosts over his lips, barely hinted at in the fey glow of magic. "I have seen more shades of gray than you can imagine, Elise," he whispers. "Are you still looking for another way to help me?"

"Forgive me … I meant not to question your experience. And, yes, you would be correct in thinking so … I still do want to help you," answers the Gallee.

"There is one other thing I would like you to do." Cyprian leans towards her, his nose almost touching the edge of one of her ears.

Elise leans forward a bit to intercept an anticipated whisper. She perks an ear and asks, "Yes, Cyprian?"

The Eeee mage places a hand on her shoulder as she leans into his whisper, and the other rests lightly against her waist. He smiles, and though she cannot see the expression, she can hear it in his voice when he speaks, along with the cruelty she had imagined vanished. "Fear me," he whispers in her ear, then adds a single syllable.

And what results is pure terror in the face of the poodle. Her eyes widen immediately and her muzzle drops open in a soundless scream. Even her ears pale under the terrible and overwhelming fear that the Eeee gives off, and she staggers backwards a few steps before tripping over something and falling backward to the floor with a pained yelp and a clatter of chitin armor.

Laughter follows her movements – not mocking, or deprecating, but a purely pleased sound which seems all the crueler for its delight. Cyprian half-spreads his wings as he leaps after her, crossing the few feet before dropping to kneel beside her. "I knew you could do it," he says in a voice rich with intonations that Elise can barely register. He touches her cheek, casually.

The poodle for a moment is unable to grip the floor, her hands sliding as her gauntlets repeatedly slip in her desperate pushing to shove herself as far away from Cyprian as possible. But there isn't anywhere to go. Quite soon she pushes herself into something solid and stops, terrified, pushing her back to the wall and leaning her head as far back as possible. Her entire frame trembles, for there is no where left to go now, and she's knows the Eeee is out there, close, somewhere hidden in the mocking darkness.

As she scrabbles for the corner, the Eeee mage laughs again, joyous, and she has no trouble identifying his position as he stands and shifts again, dropping down beside her cornered body. "Where are you going, Elise?" he asks, in a voice that seems to hold the promise of death itself. He touches her cheek again, then lowers his head to kiss her.

Painfully the poodle shoves herself backward, as if with enough force she might overcome the solid obstruction that stops her retreat. But such ideas are simply terror induced madness, having no effect upon the indifferent obstruction. Finally she relents and as Cyprian leans down to kiss her she closes her eyes shut and a faint, scared whine escapes through her gritted teeth.

The touch of Cyprian's muzzle to hers has a gentleness quite at odds with her violent panic, as does the hand casually fondling the side of her head. After a moment, he lifts his head away, though he leaves his fingers tangled in her hair, resting on one knee, looming over her.

The strain evident in the poodle's jaw begins to lessen, though it does not vanish completely. She almost seems to rest now, recovering from a fear that, while strong, is not so very blinding and terrible as it was moments ago. Still she is painfully aware of her position and the Eeee so close to her. She does not say anything, nor does she whimper in pain or fear, she is simply quiet.

As the poodle relaxes, he shifts the hand still caressing her hair back to her jaw, tilting her face toward his as if to examine her expression. Quiet clicking sounds accompany the labored breaths the canine takes as she recovers from her fleeting panic.

The expression seems calmer now, though she winces when touched. In fact she seems to be easing in her terror. And, also, her breathing seems to relax somewhat as well. Still, she is quiet.

Cyprian chuckles again, looking at her, though the edge is gone from his strange humor. He leans down once more, kissing the tip of her nose, then he stands, and walks away. A moment later, she hears the rustling of sheets.

The poodle winces again when kissed. For seconds afterward she remains as she is, on the floor, and slowly calming down. Eventually she lifts her head from the wall and tilts it, looking down and at the floor off to her side. Her hands … twitch.

From the sounds the mage made, it seems like he has laid down in his bed. Now, apart from the sound of her breathing, the room seems still and quiet as Elise recovers on the floor. Occasionally, she hears a faint "click" that suggests Cyprian is still present and conscious.

The sound of armor clinking and robes rustling can be heard as Elise pushes herself up to her feet and stands. Following that are the steps of her heavy boots, with the occasional pause. In time one of those pauses heralds a thump against the leg of Cyprian's bed. Another, and then the footsteps grow close indeed.

"Yes?" The mage asks.

"You have gone too far, Mage Cyprian," echoes Elise in an almost steady voice of authority, one tainted by a faint and seething anger. "You … you have betrayed my trust in you, you … you would DARE use magick against me? I … who … who love you?!" Her tone builds in rage at that last word of stated betrayal. From authority to hurt and anger. She quiets from a moment before speaking again, this time cold and calm. "You had best use it again. Prepare yourself."

A frozen moment of silence follows, then: "What are you going to do, Elise? Kill me?" Cyprian rolls over and lays on his back, looking at the ceiling. "Then do it. I can't prepare a spell faster than you can draw your sword and use it, and I've no weapons in this chamber, much less on me. But remember this: I told you to leave. I told you I would hurt you. And you said, "Do it if it makes you feel better.""

"And that is your answer? You told me? Did you not think that I would assume you were simply angry? If you had come to comfort me and I warned you I would kill you if you remained … and you did … would that absolve me of guilt? I think not," growls the poodle. She then reaches for the mage's shoulder and moves to pull him up, so that he is close enough that even in the faintest of light she can locate his large eyes. "Is this how it will be with us? As long as your magick holds … you are charming, gentle, and calm … but should it fail you become nothing more than … an addict without his drug! Sad, that our dream is nothing more than what the gods are that created it. A pathetic, magick, creation."

Cyprian snorts. "And look what you are reduced to after a handful of seconds under the influence of a minor "fear" spell. Try spending a whole day with people tracking around in your head, see how "charming, gentle, and calm" it leaves you." He doesn't even try to pull away. "I am, of course, still responsible for my actions. And you are for yours. But if you had told me, "Stay and I'll kill you", I would have had the sense to leave."

"Open your eyes, Cyprian. I am not one of those mages. I am not your enemy. You treat me now as if I were nothing at all. It is hardly any wonder you try and hide yourself from everyone. Molding yourself with magick into something more acceptable … " A shake of the poodle woman's head. "I hope you feel better for what you have taken, which I gave you … and for what you do now. Wrapping yourself up in bitter anger and rage does you ill. I refuse to believe this is entirely caused by those mages. You hold yourself together with your magic, I have seen you. Nearly always are you under its influence. I would not be surprised if you terrify yourself."

"OF COURSE I terrify myself!" the mage shouts, exasperation, anger, and fear mixing in his voice, "By the Sisters, I am a damned madman and some time – quite possibly tonight at the rate I am going – I am going to get myself killed! Why do you think I program myself anyway?" He grits his teeth and shakes his head, and Elise realizes that the shoulder under her hand is palpably trembling. "Look," he says, "Beat me up or yell at me or kill me or whatever it is you're going to do, but please make it quick because it's been a long five days and I would really like to get some rest. Permanently if that's my only option."

Without hesitation or warning Elise sits herself down on the bed and wraps her arm around the Eeee, hugging him to her even as he trembles. "I am here … because I care. And as much as you might want to frighten me away, to hurt me … " she shakes her head, "I will not abandon you to loneliness … for I think it is now, when all would declare you unfit … that you need me. If you need to sleep, so be it. I will remain here and if I must I will follow you and see your sleep uninterrupted from the dreams themselves."

At the unexpected hug, Cyprian actually squeaks – not an unusual sound for a bat, but it seems almost as out of character as the entire rest of his behavior this evening put together. For some moments after the Gallee finishes speaking, he continues to shudder, otherwise unresponsive. At length his convulsions give way to laughter – not hysterical, not cruel, not pleased – just amused, bemused, chuckling. He sags against Elise, shaking his head. "Ah… I have no words left in me. Thank you, Elise. I'm going to sleep now." He makes no motion to move out of her embrace or stop leaning against her, however-and she realizes after a moment that, as good as his word, he is sleeping.