It is night now, and the Procession bathes the beach in a silvery glow, its cool colors broken by the lively and warm red, orange and gold of the campfires of the Gigis at the settlement of Seafoam. There is singing to the beat of drums and hand claps, and roasting of fish from the day's catch. Watches-Quietly had overcome her concerns about her disguise, and had spent a good portion of the day trying to learn to surf – and doing an admirable job of keeping quiet even with the number of times she ended up getting dunked into the water for her troubles.

Elijah did much better, in part because of his years of experience riding strange mounts and machines, and in part because of the advantage of having wings to maintain one's balance. Inri, however, just spent the day watching quietly from shore, content to watch and quietly smile, occasionally waving a hand, but keeping in the shade and keeping her drapes close about her to obscure her true form.

Now, the air is cool, moistened by the spray of the occasional crashing wave. The firelight casts long shadows up on the bluff faces that dance along with the Gigi revelers.

At last, the priestess, Dinala, comes forth, to give thanks for the evening's meal. When in the presence of her people, she speaks in the jabberwockyisms of the villagers, and takes special care to use some of the favorite made-up words of those around her – a compliment of sorts, it seems. Gigi social standing seems to be reflected a great deal by how many people use the odd words you create in your daily speech – perhaps indicating how many people actually listen to what you have to say.

When Dinala gives the blessing for the night's meal, however, it is unmistakably given in Aeztepan – no doubt an influence on her odd accent. She speaks the words in ritual fashion, giving thanks to Nala for the bounty, asking protection against Amena and for blessings on the tribe and their guests.

It is not clear whether she can actually converse in Aeztepan beyond the recitation of the prayers, and by the expressions on the faces of the Gigis listening, they really haven't a clue as to what she's saying … perhaps implying that this language survives only in the traditions passed down through the priesthood, whereas the Gigis have adopted their own special version of Rephidim Standard for everyday usage.

Elijah, however, still remembers the language … and only now does it occur to him that "Gigi" might well be derived from an Aeztepan derogatory term for "blissfully ignorant".

Dinala goes back to proper Rephidim Standard, however, as she sings a song, and the Gigis remain silent for the duration.

"Once Nala of the golden tresses gave us light of sun,
She parted waters from the land and made us one by one.

"Amena of the darkened places, woke and rose to see,
Just what her sister's holy hand had caused to come to be.

"Amena tore the earth away and blotted out the sky,
She stained our fur with darkened spots and cursed us all to die.

"Enslaved us in a blighted land and fed us our own blood,
We called out up to Nala, please to save us if she could.

"She called us from the under-land, we sailed across the sea.
Amena sent the dead for us, we hastened more to flee.

"We came upon a sun-soaked land, fulfilled our ev'ry wish,
A land of plenty, pleasant clime, and endless schools of fish.

"Amena would not give up though, and through her avatar,
Sought to bring us to our knees though we had come so far.

"So Nala smote the avatar then took away our spots.
Amena could not reach us then, with the touch that rots.

"She chooses only avatars that match her own design,
Too proud to use a pelt that's clear like Nala's, yours or mine.

"So this is why we keep our guard for splotches, spots or mark.
Lest she could come and haunt again, and drag us to the dark.

"But fear not, all my little ones, for your fur shines all bright,
Amena cannot touch you while you stay in Nala's light."

At the conclusion of the song, the Gigis applaud, and then as Dinala gently smiles and makes her way back out of the center, the Gigis pass around large flat shells with skewers of shrimp and fish and kelp. The merry-making resumes with the sharing of food. Watches-Quietly tries to smile appreciatively as she is handed a dish, though her eyes are slightly red and her cheek fur slightly stained from bitter tears wiped away when she thought no one was looking.

---

The next morning comes quietly, as pinpricks of sunlight find their way through tiny gaps in the walls of the shack and the folds of dividers and cloth blinders. Although the dining went fairly late last night, especially what with having guests around, it would seem that the majority of the adult Gigi population has already gone out to take advantage of the early hours of the day – and the morning tide. Small ships have been pushed out into the water, as they go about starting a new day of bringing in fish to feed themselves and to send off to the larger city of Surf.

The visitors are left to get up at their own leisure, though there's the enticing aroma of breakfast being cooked – more fish, of course, and the visitors haven't been here necessarily long enough to get tired of the same diet. Besides, it isn't just plain fish – some of the varieties of kelp the Gigis haul up have a spicy taste to them, and the faintest hint of what could be mistaken for nutmeg. It's a bit of an exotic taste, and for whatever reason hasn't caught on in Rephidim, so it's still new and different.

Elijah looks up at the roof of his tent. He's been awake for several minutes but it's taken a bit of persuasion from his limbs to do more than just lie back and relax. He thinks about his son back on Rephidim and wonders if he's managing all right with half his family gone, and he thinks about the other half of his family here and how last night seemed to add a new little facet to their spiritual journey. He sighs and starts pulling himself up, taking a moment to check around him to see how Inri and Watches-Quietly might be faring this morning.

Watches-Quietly is still in her little area, going through the morning rituals of getting herself presentable that seem to have gotten longer and longer as she's gotten older – though right now, a good part of it is due to her meticulous concern about her little "disguise", even if the original purpose of it was proven moot a good while ago. Inri, however, has obviously arisen early, and is outside somewhere – probably to watch the sunrise, as has been her wont whenever given the opportunity since she came back to Sinai.

The Vartan stands and stretches for a moment before going over and contributing to Watches-Quietly's little morning ritual by giving her a quick little token preening and a hug. "I'm going to go ask Dinala some questions over breakfast. Do you wish to come with me or do you wish to remain here? I can tell you what I learned later."

Watches-Quietly nods at first, despite the "A or B" question, glancing in the general direction of the front of the shelter. Not directly visible from here, on account of the partitions, Dinala is out in the front of the shelter, which has been largely opened up to the air, as not only has the canopy been drawn back on the entrance, but the two segmented "wall" sections on either side have been slidout, so that the fire-pit is open to the air. Watches-Quietly remembers herself, and signs, "I'll be here for now. I'll be out with you shortly."

Elijah nods and ruffles his beak against the cub's head (She'll always be a cub to him) one more time before cleaning himself up a bit and stepping outside.

"Outside" happens to be a bit closer, with the rearranging of the shack, and one might wonder why there's not a terrible draft blowing through and sending the cloth partitions fluttering about. However, while there might be a breeze coming from off the ocean, the bluffs backing up the village break up any smooth throughway for the air, resulting in an area of calm at their base.

The Vartan unfurls his wings, since they're hard to stretch properly inside, and sets himself looking to Dinala.

Dinala looks up from where she is cooking patties made of a mixture of fish and herbs and other ingredients, using a thick piece of shell as a disposable skillet of sorts. She regards Elijah for a moment with an unreadable look – a polite smile, but somehow out of place, given how the Gigi normally seem to exaggerate their expressions – but then she returns to the usual customary Gigi broad grin. "It is a new day, full of the blessings of the Goddess. I pray that you are well rested and in good health?"

Elijah nods. "Yes. It was the most comfortable rest I've had in a while." He moves closer and looks at the cooking preparations. "I wanted to speak to you more about the story last night … and I can also lend a hand with the cooking while we talk, if you like."

Dinala nods, her eyes crinkling slightly as she smiles a degree more in response to the offer. "Silverdart patties with trafaga spice and redcrane eggs," she says, shifting to allow the Vartan a bit more room, though it's more symbolic than practical, since there is plenty of spacearound the fire-pit as it is.

Carefully, the hippogryph takes up a knife and begins cleaning and scaling some of the fish on the flat rock slab that serves as a table. "I am going to sound very odd and probably rather ominous, but I am something of a straightforward man and do not manage myself well when dancing around a topic." He sets a bone aside, unsure if the Gigis dispose of them or save them for stew. "I have heard of Amena before in my travels, and I think I may have even encountered some of her Avatars … but this is the first I have heard of Nala, and I am interested in knowing more about her: where she came from, what became of her, her relation to Amena… "

Dinala turns to look over toward Elijah, the traditional "Gigi smile" replaced by a look of concern – such a drastic change that she almost seems a different person for a moment. "You have met … not merely an Avatar … but Avatars?"

"Yes, and they have both been destroyed, so you needn't fear." He rubs at the back of his neck. "They are possessed by an organism that resides in the upper spinal column near the skull, correct? I do not know how great your training on the matter is, or if that knowledge would be new or familiar to you. I speak it because it may validate my words."

"You speak of the black heart," Dinala says, in a sober tone.

Elijah nods, neatly slicing a fish down the middle. "Yes. What do you know of them? I have only seen one with my eyes, and I had to destroy it before it possessed another person." His voice lowers. "I cannot give you details, as I am traveling incognito and do not wish to dishonor myself by breaking my oath, but I assure you that we both battle against the same enemy."

While Elijah tends to the food, Dinala on the other hand seems more distant, forgetting the matter of breakfast for the moment. "Do we, friend traveler? I do not know your secrets, nor is it my business to inquire into them. But I pray, whatever business you have in these lands, please do not bring down the wrath of Amena upon these people. They are kind, simple and honest folk, meaning no harm to anyone. I shall do what I can to hold back the evils of Amena, should she threaten those under my care, but I know well that only the power of Nala has ever held against her to any true degree."

"I did not come here to bring any trouble, I assure you. I am a pilgrim on a journey of knowledge, and I believe that I was brought here to learn." He discards another bone and begins stripping off the fish's scales. "Who is Nala and how is she able to hold back Amena?"

Dinala takes a moment to tend to the mundane task before her for a moment, turning patties with a spatula formed of reeds, as she mulls things over. At last, she begins, "Normally, I would begin with a long tale, frustrating the cubs with answers that would provoke more questions. But the deeper meanings, I sense, are not what draw you here. Nala is the Goddess – from Her comes all life, and to Her it returns, and it is She who ensures that the cycle continues on its way. Nala is many things, and She is not confined to any terrestrial ball, nor to any shining body of the heavens, though we often associate Her with the sun, and its life-giving light."

"The Star," Elijah says with a soft smile. "I have always prayed to the Star for protection against the evils I must fight."

Dinala smiles at the presumed equation, then continues. "But there can be no light without darkness, and the darkness found its form in Amena. One must be careful in how one tries to associate Nala and Amena with those things we naturally assume oppose one another," Dinala continues. "Nala is not just life, but death and rebirth as well. Amena is a corruption of that. She is death, and then a ghastly imitation of life - something that is no cycle, but something that comes to a halt in an unnatural place."

Dinala scoops some cooked patties onto another shell that has been designated as a plate, then sets the reed spatula down, and holds her hands out to gesture with her words. "With Nala, we have a continual movement, and change. With Amena, things stay the same, until they at last crumble away into nothing, with no hope of return. Amena's way holds appeal for those who do not understand the ways of Nala. They see death, and think that this is the end, so they desperately want some way to avoid it … to cheat it. They see death and life as separate things, not part of a grand cycle. It is this conceit of mortals that leads them to embrace Amena's way. They do not wish to accept that all things must end, then be started anew. They want to cling to whatever they think is theirs, when in reality nothing is truly ours at all. All things pass away, and come back in new forms."

Elijah grits his beak. "Yet Amena takes on physical form and follows physical laws here. The Star does not … I mean no offense, but I gathered from your poem last night that the two were once real people."

"That," Dinala says, grimacing slightly at the phrase "real people", "is but a piece of the truth behind who is Nala, and who is Amena. But you no doubt want these truths framed into events and peoples and history. That, alas, I cannot give you clearly, for it has been Gigi tradition for countless generations to pass things down orally. But I can give you what I know."

The Vartan dips his head. "Anything you tell me will help."

"You are aware of the concept of Avatars, obviously," says Dinala. "But not all Avatars are as Amena thinks them. Amena's way is a mockery of Nala's, and so it is with her Avatars. They are not true rebirths of Amena, but rather she takes the lives of others, and turns their bodies into puppets for her mad ways."

"Nala, however, has never parted from the cycle of life. She is with us at all times, around us, within us, but She is not equally spread across the whole of existence. She, after all, has an identity – She has a name by which we might know Her. She is not an impersonal, impassive force that cares not about us," Dinala says. "And, from time to time, She enters our mortal existence, to take part once more in this part of the cycle."

"That," Dinala says, placing two fingers from one hand against the palm of the other, "is a true 'Avatar'. Spirit made flesh – born, not corrupted or stolen or built from pieces. That is what we refer to when we suggest that Nala has been, as you say, a 'real person'."

Elijah nods, pausing on his fish dressing. "I think I understand. My own teachings speak of the Star sending a spark down to guide its people." He sighs. "What happens if a girl cub is born in your village with spots? Is there nothing you can do to protect her from Amena?"

Dinala's eyes are downcast at this. "We do our best, but it is an ill omen. We of Seafoam have not witnessed such a thing within any of our lifetimes. There is, on occasion, one such as Bhuz, who bears a hint of those markings … but that is only a step in the direction of the image of Amena. We have required ourselves to pull those unfortunates out of the cycle, so that their children do not have the chance to go even further, so that one will not be born in the image of Amena, and thus attract her attention."

"I have witnessed such things," the Vartan says, focusing on his fish again. "How was Nala able to save the people from Amena's grasp the first time? I have heard that her lands are those of Aeztepa, and none who set foot there ever return alive."

"There are some who say that such is the case," Dinala says, nodding. "The most conservative of our priestesses would hold that the realm we came from was beneath the earth, or not even of the physical plane at all, but rather that our ancestors had been imprisoned in a realm outside of the cycle of natural life."

Dinala continues, "Nala has been spirit since the beginning, and before there was anything else. She had long been apart from the cycle of life, because it was She who created it, and She existed long before there was any living creature, or any death, or any rebirth."

"But in order that She might deliver us from the grasp of Amena, She made the ultimate sacrifice. She entered into the cycle of life, and became mortal, so that we might know Her, and so that She might lead us away from Amena, with powers only She could have. It was a terrible risk She took, for by becoming mortal, She risked that She might become ensnared in Amena's grasp as well. But She prevailed, and resisted all temptations, and delivered us from bondage," Dinala says, with a bit more spirit to her recounting.

Elijah pauses in his cutting. "This is a bit confusing to me, I fear. Although were I to compare it to anything, it would be to a clutch of Amena's followers I encountered once. They did horrible things to their offspring and the resulting people were only slightly higher than animals. Yet I have also met those of my people who took some of the followers as wives, and their children did not hold the madness."

Dinala looks more than a bit confused herself as she ponders Elijah's words, then says, "In order to better answer your question, we live here because of the actions of Nala, who attained mortal form. She used holy powers to counteractthose of Amena and her un-living servants, and led many of our people away from bondage in Amena's darkness. We fled, but Amena continued to pursue us, and took control even of some of the faithful in our number. Nala made a final sacrifice to break Amena's hold on us, expending all of Her holy energies, and ending her mortal existence in that cycle. As a result of Her sacrifice, Amena's grasp on that generation was broken. As a sign of this, the first child born to that generation did not have the spots that marked Amena's slaves, and others likewise were without spots, or had only patches."

"I do not mean to sound insulting by asking this question, but I feel I must ask it regardless." He takes a breath. "Did Nala have spots?"

"Nala's people," Dinala continues, frowning, "were careful to guard against further interference by Amena. In time, after many generations, Nala returned to us again, born through the line of priestesses that had descended from her mortal form, and she instructed us in the ways to maintain purity not only in spirit, but in form. As for the question you ask … it is one asked by cubs to the chagrin of many a young priestess, and there is a division in teachings."

"My understanding is that in order to be born mortal, She had to share our mortal form," Dinala says, "so therefore, it is possible that, yes, She may have had spots. Such was the risk She took. But the tradition is quite clear that in Her return, She was quite free of any spots."

Elijah nods. "I believe that I know what you are going to say in answer to my next question, but it would comfort me to hear it from the lips of someone else. How would you instruct one to protect themselves from Amena, if they are deemed as being one of those at risk? Surely if Nala was able to resist the temptations, she left teachings for those faced with similar trials."

Dinala looks up at Elijah, directly at his eyes this time. "You are asking many friends, friend traveler. Am I to think that these questions are merely hypothetical?" But before she gives him so much as a chance to answer – or not answer – she continues, "Yes. The first and foremost is not to think too highly of oneself. It is a great part of the Gigi way of life. We live simple lives, and we do not puff ourselves out so proudly. We live by the water, we handle smelly fish, we get our fur all in tangles … and we laugh. We laugh and we sing, and we don't put on airs, or tolerate notions that we are somehow specially chosen or better than anyone else. You may listen to our tale and think that Nala is a goddess only of Gigi, but She is not so small as to be confined in such a way. It is only that this is the aspect of Nala that is for us to understand. We trust that She has revealed herself in different ways to all thinking and feeling peoples."

"The second," Dinala says, "is to let the curse end with oneself, and not to let passion prompt one to risk passing the curse on to another generation, perhaps several fold. We do not hate those among us who bear hints of Amena's marks, but it is expected of them that it must end with them. Their struggles are their own, and none can struggle for them. But it is unconscionable that they should, out of selfish desires, seek to have children – children who quite likely will bear the same curse, and perhaps have the same struggles even more strongly."

"They are not hypothetical, no." Elijah sets his knife down and leans against the table. "Someone I would gladly give my life to protect is being threatened by her, and I wonder if a second friend of mine may be at risk as well. If I could end the curse, I would leave right now for Aeztepa and put my sword into that witch, but it is beyond me. I would die and never succeed in my goal, and my body may even be used to further her cause after my death." He grimaces at the second half of the advice; how can he tell his son and daughter to never have any children of their own?

Dinala nods soberly. "You would not be the first who has endeavored to defeat Amena by the sword. There are some who say that Amena can never be defeated by mundane means, by mortal hands. But we do not know that much of Amena – It is not for us to ponder such things. Nala is the focus of our teaching and our song. Amena is mentioned only out of necessity, and if she could be forgotten altogether, it would be so."

"The third is related to the first," says Dinala. "That is, to resist Amena's ways, one should strive to be free from rage, from anger, from greed, from anything that might prompt one to act with boiling blood – the sorts of acts that good men and women regret once their blood has cooled, and the truly cursed refuse to recant. But it is not only what one does not do: a rock is guilty of no transgression, but we would hardly call it good merely because of the absence of evil on its part."

Elijah looks at his hand. "Have there ever been tales of Amena bearing children? Or one of her avatars doing so? I had thought that Amena was dead, as were her vessels after she possessed them. How would it be possible for something that is dead create life?"

"Therefore, the fourth is to focus on doing that which is right and loving," Dinala continues, still on a line of thought. "If you know that you have Amena looking your way, and all you do is shut yourself up in your hut andhuddle by the fire-pit, telling yourself to commit no evil, then you do no good, either. It is like a game of the children, when they find a great vine washed ashore, and tug on it. One never settles merely to hold in place, for the contest goes back and forth. If you do not gain ground, you will only lose it, or else there will be no contest at all. It is therefore essential that if you wish to resist Amena, you focus on doing good, and not spend so much time fretting about how you can avoid doing evil." Then, she stops, pondering Elijah's question.

Dinala says, "There are many ways to be in Amena's grasp. An Avatar of Amena is marked and prepared long before Amena actually inhabits the shell. One destined to be an Avatar of Amena may live a long life, under one's own will, before being challenged and possessed by Amena. And it is entirely possible that a misguided one might willingly embrace Amena's way, looking forward to becoming an Avatar, and behaving as if it were already so."

The Vartan nods; his fish has been completely forgotten.

"In the time before the shell dies and is reanimated by Amena's power, it is still possible for it to bear life," Dinala explains. "But once the body has breathed its last, it is wholly in Amena's grasp, and from there, no life can be sprung. Amena cannot create life. She can only hold onto living beings snared from Nala, and prey upon them. She can take their offspring and make them her own, but she cannot, herself, produce life."

"The incident I speak of would have happened at least three generations ago, probably more, although the location in which they transpired was very very far and remote from here and I do not think it would have touched upon your knowledge." Elijah shakes his head. "Do you have any more advice for this pilgrim?"

Dinala ponders this a long moment, then says, "Love and laughter are things Amena can have no part of. The only 'love' she can know is the most base sort, like a horrib who eats her mate once he is of no use to her any longer. And the only 'laughter' she knows is that of mockery and scorn for all that lives. Keep to the way of the sunlight, and never think of yourself so highly that you cannot stoop down to carry cubs on your back, to sing and dance with them, or make silly faces to make them laugh. It is pride more than anything else, even more than fear, that gives Amena her strength, and her way to ensnare the unwary. If pride does not rule your life, and if you live to love others, than you have little to fear from her." She smiles, brushing aside some stray hairs, as there is some movement behind the cloth divider, and Watches-Quietly pokes into view. "And I would also advise you to eat silverdart patties whenever you have the opportunity!"

Elijah laughs warmly, the first he's done in the past day. "I am fond of fish, although I prefer others to catch them for me." He waves to Watches-Quietly. "I should see if Inri is ready for breakfast as well. Thank you for your counsel, Priestess Dinala."

Dinala nods her head. "You are more than welcome." Watches-Quietly comes over, taking in a deep whiff of the breakfast, and signs, "Is it ready?" She goes ahead and seats herself, just in case.

The Vartan picks up one of the uncooked fish he hadn't gotten to cleaning out and wiggles it at the cub. "I'm no chef, but I would suspect that it's almost ready. Have you seen where Inri has gotten off to?"

Watches-Quietly shakes her head, and feigns a hungry look at the raw fish, until Dinala picks up a shell-plate and tucks it into her paws, and scoops a couple of patties onto it. "The red gourd has mild sauce in it. The black gourd's sauce may be hot for your tastes." She then turns to the Vartan. "I believe I saw her heading up to the bluff. She might be watching the shore from there." She uses a free hand to point off in that general direction, though from her position, she's pointing through the hut itself.

"I've good eyes. It shouldn't be hard to spot her. Thank you again." He grins wryly at Watches-Quietly. "Save some for me." He winks and heads off towards the bluff.

Once he gets around the obscuring view of the peak-roofed hut, it's fairly easy – for a Vartan, in any case – to make out the draped cheetah perched amongst an outcropping of rocks jutting outward from the earth exposed in the face of the bluff. She seems to be deep in contemplation, and doesn't seem to notice the Vartan immediately.

Elijah clears his throat as he approaches and eases himself down against one of the rocks. "You have been very quiet as of late, more than usual. Are you all right?"

A shadowy wisp dissipates from Inri's hand, like a puff of smoke, though it vanishes more quickly than smoke actually would, considering the relative stillness of the air. This far from the village, she does not bother signing, but instead whispers, "I am well. I am only practicing my old craft in new ways." Still, she does have the look about her of being troubled.

The Vartan looks out across the water and then scoots closer to the cheetah, hesitantly reaching out to put a comforting arm around her shoulders. "We have known each other for so long. You know I can read your eyes, even when you will not look at me with them." He looks down. "Have you been having dreams?"

Inri nods slowly. "Yes. But … they're different. I … I haven't grasped what to make of them, or what to tell you," she whispers.

"The poem last night, and speaking to Priestess Dinala today has made me fear less for her future of being taken – and more for your own." He frowns. "You are spotted, you are beautiful, and you now have a voice. She has touched you once just as she has touched the child… I may just be acting frightfully paranoid, but this touches at something inside of me. I feel it in my heart."

Inri's eyes water at this. "I'm so sorry … I don't want to endanger you … or … her." The last pause seems to be a catching of herself, lest she mention Watches-Quietly by name. "I thought they were just dreams. They still don't have the potency I seem to remember … but last night wasn't just a dream."

"No. Dear sweet daughter, no." The Vartan kisses the cheetah's head and holds her in his arms like he's held his children so many times in the past. "You are not endangering anyone; what is happening now would have happened, I know it. You are broken inside still, and that makes you vulnerable. I fear that the fact that she watches her and me has been what has brought her eyes to you … but I will not let you fall to her, do you understand?"

Inri nods slowly, then murmurs in a stream of half-complete phrases, habitually forming some of the words into hand-signs even as she speaks them, "… You know, how real dreams are? Jumbled images … sensations … pieces of memory … things you did that day … all thrown together randomly. It's mostly nonsense. Not really a story or an experience like life, most the time … but … your mind tries to make some sense out of it, leaves out bits that don't fit … somehow gets a meaning out of it … even if it's hard to tell how it got from that jumble to the 'message' you're left with … Well … I've been having those sorts of dreams. Not visions. Not thinking I'm in Ame – her land … nothing like that. Just jumbled thoughts and images and memories … but … the message my mind pulls from it all … "

"What is the message?" Elijah asks.

Inri shakes her head. "I'm sorry. I'm spewing nonsense. Haven't had time to process … figure out what to say … but there's something there. Looking. Not sure if it's found me … but it's looking. I know something is looking, and it doesn't seem as far away as I'd like."

"She could be reading your weaknesses, looking for a weapon to use against you." The Vartan sighs. "I fear she has a great deal of ammunition to use against you, against us both. But you cannot turn in on yourself like this when the attacks come; the child and I have strength and love to spare, and i will not let my lingering fears of what you might be keep me from protecting you from what you could be. I know she feels the same."

Inri nods. "I don't mean to be weak. I'm just having trouble … grasping things. I thought I had seen the last of having my mind violated, with Ligh – Khoman." Her expression melts into an angry visage. "I've had enough. I want it to stop." She forgets herself at the last, saying this quite a bit louder than a whisper … but there are no Gigis milling about beneath the bluff, thank the Star.

Elijah looks out across the water again, his free eye narrowing a bit in thought. "How do you intend to manage this?"

Inri shakes her head, wiping at her eyes and just underneath her headband. "Take up dream magic? I hear that there's a high demand." She smirks.

"When I chose to take up the mantle of knighthood, I also took up a cause to fight for. War can be bloody and will tear you to shreds if you do not mind yourself … so I always battled, thinking in my head how the wars I was winning would keep the Nagai and the Babelites away from Rephidim soil … so my family would never have to endure the images of war. I also thought of you, and although it made my heart ache, I respected your sense of duty … of knowing that you had to fight that battle and die, or the Savanite Empire would have been branded cowards." He rubs his beak. "I do not know if this counsel helps you, but I feel I should share it."

Inri leans forward, resting her chin on her hand. "In a strange way, perhaps this answers my questions. I've come back to Sinai, and I have the same troubles awaiting me as before. Just in a different time, a different place, with a few different trappings." She takes her other hand, unconsciously rubbing a circle around her forehead, slipping on and off of the headband that conceals her third eye in the center of the circle. "I won't be giving in to her. I stood against Khoman for all these years, and that was constant. But I still feel dread. I dread the pathetic promises of power. I dread feeling that maybe, somehow, against all reason, I'll suddenly become stupid again, and listen to it. Or I just dread being subjected to the same old routine."

"That is why I do not wish for you to fall in upon yourself when the temptations come." He smirks. "I used to practice fencing on the yards of Golgotha with an old dead tree, constantly swinging and 'killing' my opponent with my sword. Then Rose came over and trounced me something solid. She showed me that the skills I thought I was learning in my head were just make-believe and were nothing compared to having a true teacher."

Inri looks to Elijah. "So … how should I apply that lesson here?"

Elijah shrugs. "If you think you are acting stupid, come to one of us and ask. Or simply get an outside opinion. If I had not come to speak to you, would you have told me of your dreams?"

Inri nods. "Yes. But I was going to brood over it a bit first. I … I just didn't want to run to you babbling incoherently, to get you all worked up and wanting to find something to smash. I don't even know if this is really focused on me. This only started once we came here. I can think of many scenarios. Perhaps some sort of 'dream sentry' magic that I've stumbled across somehow … maybe even something old and neglected and falling apart."

Elijah taps his beak. "Only time will tell." He frowns. "Priestess Dinala said that the children born with spots would have to bear the burden of Amena. Out of all that I have heard, the thing that angers me the most is that the witch puts that burden on both of the children. You and I have our families as they are and needn't worry about bearing any children … but to tell them that they cannot as well? It's an unfair wound to inflict upon them."

Inri nods. "I've picked up some of that mindset from the villagers … and from our new friend, Bhuz. He's been lurking just outside of the village, by the way. I saw him briefly this morning." She sighs.

The Vartan shakes his head. "In the tales of Nala, something happened and the children were born with no spots. I wonder if there is something that could be done to do this again." He smirks. "Dinala mentioned something about going out and doing good works. Once we finish at the Sanctuary of Amber, and it is the Star's will … I am considering doing just that. Just spending some time traveling and seeing if I have a chance to do some good… With the two of you aiding me, the task would become a great deal easier."

Inri smiles. "I think I might like that." She shrugs. "I've nothing better to do." She ends with a smirk.

Elijah gives the cheetah another hug. "I feel ten years younger and twice as strong with you here, I want you to know that."

Inri's ears twitch in a reflexive Savanite giggle, and she returns the hug whole-heartedly.

The Vartan takes one of Inri's hands and rises up to his hooves. "Let's go and get some breakfast now … and we'll see about bringing some to Bhuz if we get a chance. I think he may end up becoming part of our group as well."