Several piers have been swung aside to make room for the largest ship at the Docks: the Intimidator. Citizens from across the city have come out just to LOOK at this airborne behemoth, not a common sight at Rephidim. For it to come directly to the docks – rather than just having crew ferried to it – is unusual.

Weapons, equipment and supplies are loaded on board, under the supervision of a veritable small army of Templars – including Knights Templar and Elite Guardsmen. The "common folk" are kept distant by barricades and vigilant Guards.

A black-feathered Vartan has his own 'escort', for much of the time at the docks – a couple of Jupani Guards, as well as a Savanite slave wearing a woven-leather headband.

Another Savanite slave wearing a woven-leather headband approaches, escorted by another small group of Guardsmen … and leading along a couple of jaguar cubs and a spotty half-Vartan.

Taliamelle trips along after the slave, jingling some sort of beaded rope she had made out of shiny street litter.

"Wait a moments," Zoltan says to his 'escort'. He turns around and takes a couple of steps towards the three cubs and the Savanite, he tries his best to keep on a happy face and choke down the lump in his throat.

There's an audible "ACHOO!" from amongst a group of robed individuals heading toward the airship. A platinum-haired Eeee's ears blush embarrassedly, and she pauses just long enough to wave at Zoltan before she disappears up one of the boarding ramps.

Taliamelle peers up at Zoltan with big, wet eyes.

Pouncer holds to Jezebel's right hand, while Enos is cradled in Jezebel's other arm. Enos mews at Zoltan, sniffling. Surely he can't understand that Zoltan is leaving, but perhaps he's picking up a bit of empathy from the somber expressions of those around him. Pouncer squeezes her toy bug, holding it up for Zoltan. "You gish it for me?" she scrawks.

Taliamelle quickly becomes more direct. She suddenly lunges for Zoltan's waist and hugs tightly there. "You not goin'. I nots lets you."

Zoltan reaches out and picks up each of the three cubs in turn, giving each of them a quick preening with his beak, and a kiss on each of their foreheads. "Taliamelle, take care of you younger brother and sister while I gone. You going to be in charge now." He gives Pouncer another hug, takes the toy bug in his hands and gives it a firm squeeze before handing it back. "You be good, Pouncer… no get too mad at you brother when he pull you tail."

Taliamelle ears quirk in strange directions at this new perspective. "In charge? That means I gets say when we have cookies, yes?"

Pouncer mumbles some half-meant promise to "Be good… " She hugs "Gish" and stares at the ground.

The black-feathered hippogryph closes his eyes tightly for a moment. He can't cry… not now, not here. This will be hard enough on the kids without him breaking down. He gently strokes the sphynx's head, "Too many bad for you stomach… and no spoil you dinner."

He gently strokes Enos' head. "You be good too… be nice to you sisters. Otherwise they might decide to gang up on you." The Vartan's eyes meet with those of the Savanite holding him.

Taliamelle's ears droop again. She looks back to Jezebel and the others, searching for something from them.

Jezebel shifts Enos' weight a bit in her arms, nuzzling his head-hair. She doesn't try to meet Zoltan's gaze. Not having another arm free, she brushes one of Taliamelle's wings with her tail.

Zoltan gently puts he hand on the side of Jezebel's cheek and kisses her forehead, right above the spot where her third eye rests. He plucks out one of his feathers and tucks it into her belt. "I be back as soon as I can… I love you all. Please take care of youselves."

Going down on one knee, the Vartan holds out his arms, offering one last hug for his family.

Taliamelle clings to her spot at his waist, shuffling to one side to keep from getting trampled by the others.

Pouncer lets go of Jezebel, clinging to Zoltan's leg and burying her face in his ribs, sobbing. Enos just mews, as Jezebel brings him close enough to paw at Zoltan's beak.

The next few moments are spent stroking cubs' fur, wiping away tears, hugging, kissing, and telling the three how much he loves them, how much they mean to him… and how he'll try and be back as soon as he can. It's all Zoltan can do to keep from breaking down himself right there.

Lieutenant Sapphire walks up – her uniform perfectly pressed, and her professional demeanor still betraying a hint of sympathy in those eyes. She waits a while, but at last interrupts. "We're ready to take them back to the Temple, Baron Cambio." Baron. The Templars have taken to accepting that title for Zoltan fairly easily.

Pouncer reluctantly lets go of Zoltan, sniffling. She steps back, wearing her Temple Scout uniform … which, evidently, she must have put on all by herself. She doesn't brag this fact to Zoltan, trying to get a compliment. Instead, she just stands up straight, lower lip quivering, ignoring the wetness staining the fur under her eyes, and makes her very best attempt at a Temple Scout salute.

The Vartan smiles, "Take care of my family, Lieutenant." He reaches out to wipe away a few more tears, and gives each of the cubs a shiny little necklace (fairly sturdy looking, they were made for CUBS afterall), bits of little black feathers sppear here and there, evidently made from Zoltan's own. "For you to remembers me while I gone, and know that part of me is always with you, and always love you."

Taliamelle reluctantly lets go of Zoltan to take the necklace. "Thanks you."

Pouncer eagerly grasps the nice feathery necklace … and quickly gives Zoltan another hug, squawking "Thank you" in Vartan … and then repeating it in Rephidim Standard. (After all, she has been learning SOMETHING in the Scouts… ) She puts on her necklace.

Enos bats at his necklace, then takes it in his paws … and starts chewing on it.

Zoltan pulls himself back to his feet. "… goodbye… " he says softly, his voice muted by that lump in his throat that seems to have gotten a bit bigger.

Jezebel dares to look up at Zoltan for just a moment, studying him with her deep brown eyes. Her fur is damp just underneath her woven leather headband.

A couple of Savanites carrying crates just on the other side of the barricade walk past … and cast glances in the direction of the gathering. One of them seems to have a nervous tick in his tail. For an instant, Jezebel's tail seems to develop the same nervous tick … and an annoyed look crosses her face, as she quickly drops her gaze to the ground again.

The Vartan walks over to Jezebel. He rubs the head of the cub resting in her arms, his fingers flicking in an odd way as he does.

Jezebel's chin dips slightly in a nod.

"It's time," Lieutenant Sapphire gently reminds, as she touches Pouncer's shoulder.

Zoltan swallows down the lump and steps back.

Jezebel steps back as well, and slowly follows Lieutenant Danae Sapphire and the Guards, bringing the cubs along with her. In the hustle and bustle of this portion of the Docks, they soon disappear, leaving Zoltan alone in traffic.

The Champion of Roses and her magenta-caped entourage pass by almost immediately after Jezebel's departure … with a single bookish-looking cheetah amongst them.

The Vartan waits until he's sure they're out of sight; then wllows his shoulder to slump and the tears to flow freely from his eyes. He numbly turns around and walks toward the ship.

The dock is a storm of activity. The shining metallic (though surely not metal) ship itself looks like the envelope of a standard airship … though it does not have a traditional gondola. Rather, it would seem that the "envelope" is a rigid structure, with various stations affixed to its hull, including a deck on top. A number of rakhtors are being flown to the craft, roosting somewhere inside and out of sight. No known ship in the Temple's fleet is larger. And it's going to Paradys.

Not all of the dock activity has ground to a halt, however. Past the barricades, a few piers down, Zoltan can spy the envelope of a rickety-looking craft, only faintly familiar. It once belonged to a Vartan named Cambio Herbir. Recently, it has been re-dubbed the 'Redemption's Hope'. Several cheetahs can be seen in that area, boarding and disembarking in a constant stream, carrying cargo. That many cheetahs working to load/unload a ship is surely against union-agreed dock policies…

Zoltan pauses to gaze at the Temple ship for a long moment. It's beautiful… but, it's menacing in a way. He inwardly hopes that nobody violates the tower on Paradys…

There's some sort of commotion near the barricades. Some Guards are shouting at some Savanites who seem to be confused about where they're supposed to take some boxes, and seem to be intent on getting around the barricades. No, they aren't the same ones with the "tail twitch" problem.

The Vartan glances at the airship the Savanites busy themselves on. The noise from the shouting guards jerks him out of his reviere and he makes his way over to see what the trouble is.

There is a clatter, as one of the Savanites falls over, spilling his box. Zoltan can only barely make out what happens, amidst the moving bodies, but it seems like something blood red spills out of the box, staining the ground. The smell of blood stains the air … and several other Savanites nearby look toward the scene. Some other Savanites dash away. So many spotted bodies, in much the same drab attire. It's hard to tell them apart.

However, there's something about that congregation of Savanites over there. A lot of them don't look like they're busy moving boxes. Rather, they look like they're standing around, waiting for something. And whatever it is they were waiting for, it looks like they've seen it. A rock sails by, hitting the ground near Zoltan's hooves.

Moon-Brow rushes up to Zoltan, signing, "I've been watching that group… " She apparently has nothing further to sign that isn't already obvious, though.

Zoltan blinks, then scowls. He brings his hoof down on the rock, attempting to crush it, and then just glares at the crowd. He waits quietly… are these the ones that Azhtar are riling up? Or perhaps Savanites who mistake him for Herbir…

The Templars don't advance past the barricade. Shields are brought up to ward off the stones, but most of the Templars near the ship are looking about – as if expecting some other attack, and this to be just a distraction. None seems forthcoming. However, Zoltan's keen eyes pick out a Savanite pushing her way amidst the rioting workers. There's a flash of green…

The Vartan stands his ground, waiting. "Can I help you?" he says gruffly.

It appears that the Savanite doesn't notice the Vartan. Instead, she struggles her way up, to stand on top of a fallen crate, finding an uneven foundation upon which to rise above the crowd. Facing away from the Vartan, she hurriedly flashes signs at the riotous workers, her tail twitching wildly.

"That's the one!" one of the Guards cries out. "Ol' green-eyes! Get her!"

with one great leap, Zoltan takes to the air. He attempts to pluck the Savanite from the box from above.

The thundrous beat of the big black Vartan's wings drives back several of the Savanites and one Guard, and he easily snatches the cheetah, who is caught totally off-guard, interrupting her last sign. He just manages to catch the sign for "STOP" being repeated twice before he jolts her off of her stand.

Zoltan gains altitude and turns his captive over so he can see her face…

The cheetah struggles against the Vartan, but then freezes when her eyes – unmistakably green – meet his. No doubt about it. This is Azhtar, and she looks a little worse for the wear, judging by the smears on her fur and a few fresh scratches.

Out of the corner of the Vartan's eye … he somehow manages to pick out another familiar form past the crowd – Jezebel! She seems to be boxing a couple of Savanites about the ears – large, muscle-bound Savanites who are considerably larger than her, it should be pointed out. She makes angry signs at them, her tail slashing through the air angrily.

The Vartan scowls. "Why you been starting these riots? You just making things worse!" He focuses on Jezebel, trying to judge how much peril she's in right now.

It would seem that, despite how unmatched she looks, somehow Jezebel has things in hand. The heavy Savanites drop some rotten fruit and rocks, and – one being led by the ear – follow Jezebel back to the "Redemption's Hope". Presently, it looks like no cheetahs are unloading the ship. Cheetahs are only boarding. A Temple Inspector perhaps has noticed this fact, as he vainly tries to wave down one of the cheetahs, holding up some paperwork in his other hand.

Azhtar does not respond to the Vartan, just struggling to get hold of him, perhaps not trusting that he won't simply drop her to her doom…

Zoltan frowns and looks for a spot closeby where he can touch down and not get mobbed… or miss his ship.

It looks like the safest spot would be back within the barricade … though there's no telling how the Guards would treat Azhtar, after her little 'performance'.

The hippogryph circles a bit more, he looks down at the spot within the barricade. He starts to roundaboutly make his way there. "You gots two choises… you can come with me and I do my best to keep you from being put in stocks, or I drop you in middle of mob. After all this, I very tempted to put you in jail myself… but I no forgets how you help me in Savan before, so I owes you one."

The Inspector seems to have blocked off Jezebel and her 'escorts'. Apparently he must understand Savanite sign, for there's some sort of argument. And then, Jezebel jabs at one of her escorts … and he bodily shoves the Inspector aside. The three cheetahs rush up the gangplank. Perhaps due to the riot nearby, nobody else seems to be reacting immediately to the Inspector's humiliation as he struggles in an open barrel of squibbits that he's fallen into.

Azhtar looks up to Zoltan and signs, "I'm here to STOP this!"

"What? But I was told this was all you faults!" Zoltan replies. "Why you back in Rephidim? Explain fast and good… I no have much time and I gots to drop you somewhere."

Azhtar bites her lip, then signs brokenly, "Some green eye harlot stir up trouble! Must stop it!"

The Vartan veers away, this time aiming his path towards the other ship. "Is she here?"

Azhtar slumps, shaking her head.

Jezebel and her escorts disappear aboard the Redemption's Hope, and mooring lines are hastily cut free, and the boarding ramp dropped … all quite in violation of various rules of dock protocol, of course.

But then, that surely pales in comparison to the likelihood that there's not a single non-Savanite on board that particular ship right now, and that the owner is presumed dead somewhere in the Himaat…

Zoltan attempts to land on the deck of the ship. "How you plan to stop a riot… wave you hands and makes them go away? You lucky I grab you when I do, if guards catch you they probably kill you."

Azhtar just slumps as the Vartan touches down on the deck. Jezebel rushes up to the Vartan, paying no attention to his cargo. "You must go! You'll be in trouble if they think – " And then, suddenly everything goes dark. And silent. And the whole world seems to swim, so that it's impossible to tell which way is up…

And, then, the sensations lessen. Zoltan can hear, but his ears are filled with a persistent ringing. He can see, but the colors and hues are all reversed, just like in the store. And he's a little dizzy, but his senses return.

The Vartan struggles and looks around, trying to find the source of the spell. One of the war mages?

By what the Vartan can see, the crew is quite disoriented … but then the effect fades, like mists rising from a cold lake at sunrise. Beyond the deck railing, however, there is an almost-tangible blackness. It has a flavor of one of Jezebel's spells … but it seems like the ride started off a little 'bumpy'. Jezebel staggers as if dealt a blow. She signs, "I have work to do. Please … leave while you can."

He nods and jumps off the ship again, this time aiming for a spot near the Temple battleship. He keeps his flight jumpy, as if reeling from an attack.

The Vartan passes through a field of mild disorientation, making his ears buzz faintly … but then he's past the wall of blackness. Behind him … the Redemption's Hope … is gone!

Several fliers – Vartans, most of them – approach Zoltan. One scrawks, "Baron! What happened?"

Zoltan rubs his head. "They got away. Is no matter… just a bunch of rowdy spotspots."

The Vartans part ways, to allow Zoltan a clear line of flight back toward the Intimidator. Below, Guards can be seen, rounding up the troublemaking Savanites. It looks like they succeeded in causing a fair amount of damage to any cargoes that happened to be at hand. But it also appears that there is no intention of delaying the Intimidator's departure. The last of the equipment has been loaded, and the gangplanks are being drawn in.

( I hope we didn't lose too much, or at least nothing we can't replace on way here. ) Zoltan looks around for Moon-Brow, just in case she might have been mistaken for a rioter.

Moon-Brow is not to be seen at the Docks. And a good thing, considering that the gangplanks are being drawn in, unless Zoltan would be expected to carry her himself. However, after a bit of circling, he manages to spot her on an open deck atop the body of the Intimidator, very calmly holding onto the railing, as if not in the least bit worried by Zoltan's recent little "adventure", her tail swaying slowly from side to side.

The Vartan's hooves clatter against the deck of the Intimidator as he lands and shakes himself off. "I starting to remember why I went into business with Master Nicodemus and gave up workings at docks… " he mutters to nobody in particular, although he's making his way over to Moon-Brow.

Moon-Brow bows her head to Zoltan, signing, "It is good you are safe, Master."

"We not going to be safe again until we land back in Rephidim." he answers. Violet eyes scan the deck… "You seen Champion of Roses anywheres?"

The huge ship drifts away from the sky island, bearing no sails … and no air mage seems to be busy in any sort of ritual to push the craft along. Moon-Brow signs, "I have seen the Magenta Lance. I am not sure which one is the Champion." She points across the long deck, large enough to hold a major sporting event. The tell-tale flash of magenta can be seen over that way.

"How they plan to land this ship on Paradys is beyonds me… " Zoltan mutters to himself. He makes a 'come along' gesture and heads towards the area where the Magenta Lance stand.

Moon-Brow ducks her head, following obediently along, until Zoltan approaches the Champion of Roses. She is accompanied by a full Lance of four felines – two Khattas and two Katthas. They look over the railing at the countryside passing below … the mountainous regions of Kilmanjar can be seen not far away, along with the storms associated with the region. (The ship is pointedly staying clear.) Unlike what is common for most ships that depart from Rephidim, the Intimidator does not descend upon passing out of the envelope. Rather, it is slowly ascending … and the air is getting noticeably more chilly on the open deck.

Zoltan coughs, attempting to get the attention of the five warriors.

( Such an amazing ship this is… how does it fly at all? It's too big! ) he muses as he looks around.

It is the attention of a shivering cheetah that Zoltan gets first. He adjust his spectacles, then gently and timidly taps on the shoulderpad of the Champion. She twirls around, facing the Vartan.

The Lancers shortly do likewise.

"I just wanted thanks you for joining me, I know you very busy… you being here means a lot to me." Zoltan says, his eyes fall on the shivering cheetah. "Hrr… is it alrights if I takes you slave belowdecks so he no freeze to death? I should probably be doing same with Star." He looks to Rose.

The Champion nods … and then her gaze fixes on Moon-Brow. Moon-Brow seems to be the focus of Ibis' attention as well. Moon-Brow, however, is staring at the armored feet of one of the Lancers.

The Vartan returns the Champion's nod with a bow, and then tries to hustle the two slaves to his quarters belowdecks.

He pauses a few feet away. "Champion… would you likes to join us? I makes very good Vartan tea… it warm you rights up."

The Champion exchanges looks with Ibis, then nods and walks after the Vartan. The Lancers start to follow, but she touches one on the shoulder. The message gets across very quickly with such a casual touch – The Lancers change course and head to the other side of the deck, toward another stairway. Many others on the deck seem to be getting similar ideas about retreating from the cold.

Zoltan resumes his trek below, "Now I just gots to find my quarters… " he mumbles to himself.

It takes a bit of time and some asking of directions before Zoltan finds out where his quarters are, but the Champion of Roses does one better by somehow getting access to a small stateroom (small compared to the scale of this ship, that is), that provides more comfortable accommodations for the group.

The Champion leisurely takes her place around the circular table, upon which is engraved an archaic-looking rendition of the "known world" of Sinai, with a number of conspicuous gaps representing the unexplored Forbidden Zones.

The Vartan seats himself as well, his eyes nervously falling on the spot on the map where Bosch rests. "I thought it be best if I gets you together in private, so I no cause ruckus."

Ibis looks to the Champion of Roses, then to Zoltan. "Then it's true?"

Moon-Brow, for her part, blinks, looking faintly puzzled, but still keeping her gaze affixed on the table.

"Are you Running-River?" Zoltan signs to Ibis.

Ibis nods the affirmative.

A smile forms across the Vartan's beak. He motions to Star and signs, "I brought you daughter… Moon-Brow. Straight from jaws of dragon himself."

Although Moon-Brow's gaze may be fixed down, she must be watching the Vartan out of the corner of her eye … or perhaps thanks to the highly-polished and spotless state of the varnished table, she has been following his signs a bit more surreptitiously. The facade is dropped, though, as her head jerks up. She signs nothing, but the look in her eyes says that which words would not suffice to tell.

Ibis, neglecting to readjust his spectacles, is startled as they slip off of the bridge of his muzzle. He fumbles to catch them, but they clatter on the table. When he finally replaces them, he leans forward a bit more to look at Moon-Brow, his fingers trembling.

Zoltan keeps quiet, although he feels a bit of relief at the reunion. In leaving his own family for what he hopes is a short amount of time, he has reuinted another. He glances at the Champion, trying to read some emotion through her mask.

In a flash, Moon-Brow vanishes under the table, her location given away by scuffling noises underneath the wood … and then a slightly dishevelled cheetah pops out from underneath the table on Ibis' side – and promptly pounces him, ears wiggling!

Ibis lets out an alarmed gasp as his spectacles fall to the table again, and his chair nearly topples backward. Nonetheless, he hugs his newly-recovered daughter tightly, quickly recovering from the shock.

The Vartan folds his arms across the tabletop, smiling as Star performs a pounce that would make his daughter proud. "I been meetings lots of you family as of late… I think that only daughter I no meet is Long-Lope."

The Champion slowly removes her gauntlets, and signs – though Moon-Brow cannot see – "You have a most unusual knack."

"You no mind this? I should have asked you first… but you other Lancers… " the Vartan lets his signs trail off.

Ibis strokes Moon-Brow's head-hair, while she hugs him, purring like a kitten. He looks to Zoltan and signs, "Thank you. I owe you more than I can ever repay."

The Champion shakes her head lightly. "I do not mind. But this is not my reunion. I will leave you alone now." With that, she begins to put her gauntlets back on, and rises to leave.

"Wait." Zoltan says, standing as well. "There something I wants to ask you… and something I just wants to say… "

The Champion stops, turning to face the Vartan again.

"First… I just want you to know that over past few months, I starting to understand how hard it is to be a Knight. I used to think you all cold, but now… I understand. You gives up so much to be what you is, family, safety… all for greater good. I learn today how hard that is. And just like I had to keep on happy face so my children no get scared abouts me leaving… you gots to wear you mask." his taloned hands slowly sign.

The Champion makes no head nod or sign of acknowledgement. She only gives the Vartan her undivided attention.

"Second… " Zoltan signs, "Could… could you train me to use a sword? I no can think of better teacher, if you have me."

The Champion nods once.

The Vartan folds his hands behind his back. "Thank you." he says, and steps aside to allow the Champion to leave.

The Champion glides out of the room, past the much larger Vartan, leaving the stateroom empty save for Zoltan and the two cheetahs. Moon-Brow has taken her own chair again, doing her best to brush her hair and look civilized again, but she can't keep her ears from wiggling, or hide the persistent smile on her muzzle.

Zoltan moves back to his own place at the table. "As for repaying me, Running-River, is I who owe you. I learned more in presence of you family these past few months than I have my entire life. Because of you… Sinai is much bigger place for me now."

Ibis smiles faintly, then signs, "Let us not argue over it, then. I will forever be grateful for your help, and I am glad for whatever you have learned."

"Although… I wonder if you could answer few things for me? Some of my questions is rather pointed… " the hippogryph signs, leaning to rest his elbows on the table.

Ibis frowns slightly, adjusting his spectacles yet again, and then gives the Vartan a 'go-ahead' nod.

Zoltan signs, "First… what happen to make Creen-Song hate magic?"

Ibis shrinks back a bit at this. He signs, "It was not Creen-Song's strength. The gift sometimes skips generations … it ebbs and flows. Her mother could not accept this… "

"Grandmother… " the Vartan sighs. "I starting to see where Third-Eye get her stubborness from."

"But, more so," Ibis continues, "she could not accept the ways of the Priest-Kings. She thought it evil. And she persuaded me of it as well. We sought to avoid becoming slaves, yet her mother yearned for a day in which we would have others as slaves. She saw such a role reversal as wrong. Evil."

Ibis signs, "But also … there was the prophesy."

Zoltan's eyes widen. "Prophesy?"

Ibis bites his lip, looking reluctant to continue, but then he lets out a long breath and signs, "It does not matter anymore. The prophesy was two-fold. Creen-Song was the seventh daughter of seven. All of her sisters died as cubs. Only she remained. Prophesies have spoken of the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter of the royal line starting the way back to the old Empire, when the line of sons has been broken."

The Vartan doesn't seem convinced. "Sign to me what this prophesy predicts. I learning to trust supersition more and more lately."

Ibis uses wholly formal as his signs move through a familiar pattern, "A day shall come when the line of sons – heirs to the last Priest-King on the throne of the City of Hands – shall be broken, for the last Priest-King had no son to pass on his heritage, and when the throne is rebuilt, a son shall not ascend to it, but a daughter."

Zoltan nods quietly, waiting for more.

"She shall be the first of seven, and the first-born shall bring destruction to the world. But the seventh of seven shall rekindle the fire, and end the curse, and open the way." Ibis pauses, then signs, "That is the heart of it. But the prophesy is flawed. Our first-born … is no more."

The feathers on the Vartan's neck bristle a bit. "What happen to you first-born?"

Ibis trembles visibly as he looks back up at Zoltan. He glances over toward Moon-Brow, who watches him with wide eyes. Apparently, she hasn't heard this story before.

Zoltan keeps his eyes fixed on Ibis.

"You must understand," Ibis signs. "You must understand. Creen-Song's mother … I dare not even sign her name, lest her spirit be awakened. She dealt in dark magicks. A child of prophesy, born with the mark … She would have dark plans. She would turn her into a monster, and bring about destruction all for the sake of this … Empire." His eyes are wide in fear, and he doesn't even notice when his spectacles fall again to the table. There's a sharp crack audible as they strike the hard surface.

"Amenlichtli… " Zoltan whispers, hoping it's not true.

The elder cheetah shrinks back. He signs, "Where did you hear that name?"

Moon-Brow looks increasingly afraid. She signs, "Father? Father, what is going on? What is all this you're telling Zoltan? Father?" Her frantic signs are unable, however, to fetch the attention of the shuddering cheetah.

"She been my bane ever since I go to Paradys. She stick dreams in my head and control my movements like I was her puppet. I gots language I never hear before somewheres in my head that I wish I could tear out, her worshippers kill countless numbers on Paradys… " Zoltan hisses, rising to his feet and completely forgetting to sign. "She almost KILL Third-Eye twice, and she posess my daughter. I thought I burn her on Paradys… "

Ibis signs, "The curse of … the one who shall not be named … goes back for many generations. Back to the early years of the Priest-Kings. Fire would do nothing."

"Only a weapon forged not of this world," signs Ibis, "forged not even of this universe, can slay the monster."

The Vartan clenches his trembling fists so tightly that blood trickles from his palms. "Where I supposed to find a… weapon… like… that… " He pauses, and realizes that he knows EXACTLY where he can.

Ibis offers no answer, picking up his cracked spectacles, and trying to focus his concerns on the broken glass. Despite the fracture in one lense, he balances the spectacles back on his muzzle, and seems very interested in his upside-down view of the map of Sinai engraved on the table.

The stinging pain in his hands pulls Zoltan back from the brink of his growing rage, a monster that he normally keeps locked away deep deep inside of himself. "I need to know EVERYTHING about her you can tell me. And maybe you can explain why she saw fit to teach me her language." He glances at Moon-Brow, "I'm sorry… I didn't expect you reuinion to be likes this."

Moon-Brow just shrinks down, trying to become very small.

The Vartan's ears droop, he walks over to Moon-Brow and hugs her tightly. Rocking her back and forth in the same manner that he'd rock Pouncer to sleep (albeit this cheetah is much bigger than Pouncer) whenever she'd get a nightmare.

Ibis signs, "I know little, except that the identity of … that one … is very confused in the legends. She is one, yet she is here, and there, and … may as well be many. The earliest legend – one which I doubt anyone knows beyond my line now – concerns the dawn of time and of the Savan Empire. In that day, there were many Khattas who had spots, like Savanites, but they were not like us. Most could talk." He frowns a bit, seeing Zoltan comforting Moon-Brow, while he is far from easing her pain.

"Two of them is my children," Zoltan says quietly.

Ibis nods slightly, then signs, "The Priest-King was not pleased. From the earliest times, it was known that those with the Mark could learn the ways of magic. But some of those other than Savanites began to learn the ways of magic as well. There were pretenders among the Khattas who posed as Savanites to try to raise their station – to be not only something higher than slaves, but to learn the ways of magic as well. In some of the far-flung parts of the Empire, one of them – whose name is not to be spoken – revealed that she could speak, and claimed that as her Mark."

Zoltan just nods, his eyes focused on Ibis' hands while the rest of him is focused on comforting his friend.

"She was – in the perspective of that day – a heretic. A pretender. An apostate. But she held sway over many, and began a movement that threatened to undermine the power of the Priest-King." Ibis shudders. "The Priest-King's response was swift … and bloody. All spotted Khattas were marked for death. … and any who claimed to be Marked who could speak."

"And what they do to the speaker?" the Vartan asks.

"She escaped, with a multitude of her followers," Ibis responds. "They sailed across the sea. The legend suggests they perished along the way."

Zoltan sighs. "That no explain how her and her followers end up on Paradys… but that no matter as much." he sighs. "How can she come backs after her body gets burned though?"

Ibis shakes his head, and signs, "I know only that the first … one … was especially gifted. She mastered more than one Sphere – something that was unthinkable in that time. She was powerful in Spirit, Dream, Life and Illusion."

"I been told she was a mind mage… " Zoltan signs.

Ibis shrugs helplessly.

Zoltan hands move behind Moon-Brow's back where she can't see. "I beginning to wonder why you hated Third-Eye for killing grandmother now… "

Ibis frowns. "Nothing is so simple as that. And ultimately it wasn't her grandmother's death. It was that her dabbling in the dark arts had gone so far. And that it seemed the prophesy would somehow come true even with the … " Ibis looks down again. "When my first-born came into this world, we saw her eyes, and we knew the prophecy would come true. I was young. I was afraid. And I did the unthinkable."

Moon-Brow just buries her face in her arms, unwilling to follow the rest of this conversation.

The Vartan hugs Moon-Brow closer. "She was trying to get you to notice her, I thinks. She too proud to beg for you love… it all she needed really, was someone to care for her."

Zoltan doesn't say anything in regards to the rest of Ibis' signs… he understands, and it is his burden to bear.

Ibis shakes his head. "I don't know at first what I had in mind. I fled with the newborn. I wandered far from my tribe, without ever presenting her … certainly not to her grandmother. And at last, I committed the worst evil of my life. I could sense the spirits around me, following me, watching me, hungrily pursuing me. I bound my daughter … my first-born … at the Ancient Pillar. And there came a dark monster, a being of shadow. He caught me as I left, and cursed me… " His hands tremble again as he signs.

"Cursed… you… ?" the hippogryph mimics Ibis' last two signs, adding a questioning gesture at the end of it.

Ibis nods. "He cursed me for my evil, and demanded of me why I did this deed. I told him of the prophesies. The demon agreed to spare me, so long as I would give him my daughter in sacrifice. Wretch that I was, I agreed." The old cheetah's ears are flush red with the retelling of his shame.

"He also bound me never to kill again," Ibis adds. "And then when we had a daughter with a more severe Mark than the first … " He shakes his head. "I have been blessed with so many loving daughters. And even … one more … that I thought of as replacing the first. If only I could undo the past." He looks up to the Vartan. "Whatever justice you think appropriate, I will not resist."

"What demon was this?" Zoltan continues hammering his questions, despite Ibis' reactions. He blinks at the Savanite's final signs, "I am not you judge." he says softly. "I do whats I do to make up for sins committed by my own blood. Is not my place to punish you for yours, only important thing to remember is that you alive… and you can right you own wrongs instead of passing them down to you children."

Ibis shakes his head. "It is not the nature of demons to reveal their names – and he told me that his name could not even be signed if he cared to tell such a one as I. And then, when Third-Vision became strong in shadow … " He shakes his head. "We worried that she inherited the place of the first-born of the prophesy." He looks up to Zoltan. "I pray that cannot be the case."

"No, she hasn't," the Vartan replies. "She taken place of seventh."

Ibis puts a hand to his head, then pulls it away, signing, "Perhaps I should never have put so much trust in prophesies. If they should come true … how much of them might be my own fault for believing them?"

Another sigh escapes the hippogryph's lungs. "Who knows. Third-Eye could have very well become first… but she spent past six months as my slave. During that time we taught each other lots of things, including compassion."

Ibis, perhaps lacking for any better response, just nods. "I … think I am feeling … " He then bows his head to Zoltan. "Would you please excuse me?"

Zoltan nods his head. "I suppose we shoulds find our cabin as well. It prolly no a good idea if Star and I spend evening in Champion's cabin unattended."

Ibis just nods … and fairly hastily makes his way out of the stateroom. Only at the sound of the door closing does Moon-Brow lift her face from the table, blinking at Zoltan.

"I'm sorry," is all he can think to say to that face… the face that looks so much like Third-Eye's.