The days following Elise's nightmare leave her little time for contemplation of it. In addition to her usual duties as bodyguard, Ambassador Dunbarre "invites" her to attend certain functions as guest (with the tacit implication that she cannot decline). He uses her role in unveiling the Babelite conspirators on Caroban as a lever to emphasize how useful Rephidim can be to the College.

His negotiations as a whole proceed slowly. Although the Ambassador does not specifically share his plans with Elise, the long hours she spends attending him during diplomatic talks gives her ample opportunity to study both Rephidim's and the College's apparent agendas. While neither the Dunbarre nor his opposite number from Caroban do much plain-talking, a few of their goals gradually become clear to the lady poodle.

Rephidim's main concern appears to be the relative dearth of mages now active on the sky island. The wealthiest nobles and most important Temple officials, long accustomed to turning to the College for help in solving various problems, treating ailments, and even correcting cosmetic deficiencies, balk at the idea of travelling all the way to Caroban for such remedies.

Elise gets the impression that, behind the scenes, the relocation of the College caused a great deal more ill will between the Temple and the mages than appears to the average citizen. At times, the two diplomats seem to be tiptoeing around each other, carefully avoiding words and promises that might lead to threats, or force a confrontation. Instead, Dunbarre focuses on how productive and strong ties between Rephidim and the College have always been, hinting at the Temple's bewilderment at being suddenly spurned by their erstwhile allies. He offers tidbits suggesting how much the Temple could do for Caroban, in terms of trade and military support.

Such concerns are hidden behind Dunbarre's foppish, easily-amused persona, which so disarmed the first negotiator Dunbarre met with, that the Ambassador won a few early concessions – convincing Caroban to raise the number of mages staffing their "embassy" on Rephidim. Unfortunately for the Temple, that diplomat was promptly replaced, and his successor maintains a harder stance. Apparently, Caroban's High Council wants to maintain their much-touted neutrality and avoid the appearance of continually favoring Rephidim above all other countries. While they want the goods and friendship of the Temple, the latest negotiator, Pol Sands, is unwilling to give Rephidim anything more than the College would provide to Babel, the Nagai Empire, or any other country of Sinai. And Mage Sands is not above bringing up such matters as the destruction five years ago of the College at Babel when Dunbarre reminds him of the Temple's long "friendship".

The ongoing talks make Elise's personal problems seem less important by comparison, but they do not go away, and on Harvest 11, 6104, she receives a note from a courier:

Dear Lady de Bellefeuille:

I believe that I owe you an apology for the events of Harvest 5 – I say "I believe" because I find myself unable to discern, with certainty, what events actually occurred, and what "memories" are merely products of my fevered brain. I seem to recall that you came to visit me out of concern for my well-being, and that in turn I treated you in a fashion that was, at best, abominable, and at worst, criminal.

My memory of this occasion is further muddled by what I hope were simply ordinary nightmares – and fear were shared dreams courtesy of our good "friends", the R. B. M.

If you do not know that which I write of, then I can only say, I am grateful. If half my distorted memories are truth, I think none would fault you if you chose to ignore this letter and any other communications from me. Should you offer my note your regard, then know this: I am much recovered since the evening in question, and hope some day to learn the truth of events as you understand them. If you are amenable, it would be my pleasure to meet with you at a time and place of your choosing. Until then, I remain,

Yours,
C.

It took several days for Elise to respond to Cyprian. The reasons were varied, and not all of them easy to admit to herself or consider. She had wondered if this note was simply another mind game by Cyprian who, from his display previous, may well be able to play her for a fool and hurt her when she is most vulnerable. She finds the idea hard to endure and after some time relents in her silence and arranges a meeting in order to determine the truth, to be held where she had spoken with Eustace in the past, an excellent place for hidden communication in the open and readily accessible to anyone with wings.

As Elise approaches the open-to-air balcony nook, she sees the black mage seated with his back to the balcony entrance, looking out over the courtyard. When she steps into the nook, he rises and turns to bow to her, courteously. "Thank you for coming, my lady," he says, voice low and gentle. His eyes, looking as ordinary as they can, do not quite meet hers before the bow.

The noblewoman returns the bow with a inclination of her head, her typical response to such, since armor does not comfortably bend at the torso. In response to his words however, she doesn't say anything, instead watching him for a moment as if searching for something before she turns and walks over to place her hands on the balcony ledge and looks off into the open expanse.

The Eeee rises from his formal bow as Elise walks past him to the balcony ledge. He neither follows her to the rail, nor sits – instead, he leans against a pillar at the entrance to the secluded balcony, watching her without comment.

"Would you, for me, restate what you remember, Cyprian?" finally questions Elise, breaking the silence. She doesn't turn around nor look away. Instead she simply continues watching the goings-on beyond the balcony. The lazy clouds, the children below, calmer and less stressful things than where she is now.

"I will admit," he says, quietly, "I would rather not." He flexes his wings, walking to the opposite side of the balcony from her, keeping a careful distance from the poodle. "Most of the things I recall were not fit to be said the first time, and will not be bettered for repeating them."

"Then I shall assume you know as I do, and in that I tell you it all occurred," says the poodle. She pushes herself from the balcony edge and turns to face Cyprian, left hand resting on the pommel of her sword. "Is it really you? This person you appear to be, now? Then, when we met? Or else is this simply the mask you wear to hide who you really are?"

When she says, "It all occurred," the Eeee flinches and looks away, his hands dropping to the ledge of the balcony to support himself. "I am sorry," he whispers, ears flattened against his head, and for a moment the poodle cannot be certain that he even heard the rest of what she said.

For the Eeee's discomfort Elise offers no aid, nor even moves to comfort him. Instead she just turns her head to watch him. "Without the whole detail of what we each know, I will provide that there will be errors in what we believe. Though I … would not admit to being unable to imagine worse, what did occur was not in itself pleasant or conducive to our relations in the long term … "

"Ah, yes, errors," the mage murmurs, rubbing one hand against the side of his face, and almost chuckling. He shakes his head. "I suppose it should be my part to speak," he continues, laying his hands side by side against the ledge again. "It's enough that you … ah. I am only stalling. Allow me to make my confession and have done, my lady."

Elise tilts her head to one side, lifting her brow curiously and in a gesture for Cyprian to continue.

Cyprian keeps his profile to her as he speaks, not looking directly to her, concentrating on forming the words dispassionately and evenly. "After the Test of Truth, I had a light supper and some drink … it's not wise to sate oneself after a long fast, just makes you sick in addition to hungry and thirsty … and retired to my chamber to sleep. As I recall, I could not … too wound up from the Test, perhaps. At some point I heard you knock on the door. We … exchanged words." He pauses, then continues. "You offered comfort. I was brutally unpleasant, ultimately suggested strongly that you should leave, and you did."

"Is that … what you think happened? I … do … " The poodle woman's eyes narrow and she stares at the ground thoughtful, sorting memories quickly in an attempt to recall the events. And she finds she has two copies, two memories of the same event she cannot completely separate from another. "No. I recall differently. But at the same time, I do indeed recall that occurrence. You mentioned in your letter shared dreams and … I believe that may be an explanation. The latter was … less comfortable."

A single nod from the mage, his knuckles whitening through the fur, where they grip the ledge. "After you left, I remember it happening again, just as before – you knocked on the door, I answered, we talked – except the second time it seems I had no recollection of the first. And then again. And then again. Each time it turned out differently, and I kept becoming aware that I was dreaming, that this could not be real – and sensing that the Elise I talked to was not you, not even an Elise-in-dreams. And yet… " He shakes his head again, struggling to continue. "I remember tearing through a hall of mirrors, smashing each one – images of you, of me, of my parents – as I looked desperately for … I know not what. Then … the dream of you, again, in my room."

Removing her hand from her sword and her side, the officer folds them in front of herself. "I can identify only a single dream – at least I would assume it to be such, since were it so, I imagine I would have some recollection of awakening in your quarters and leaving to again sleep in my own." She shakes her head as she ponders his words, noting the connections within dreams that she herself has experienced. Finding some information to speak of from the assortment, she lifts her head to speak it, "The Hall of Mirrors … aspects of the soul, reflected in magic. That place can reshape a person even in life. I warn you of this, and would have you recall any event where you may have looked too long or felt you became one of those within the mirrors. And, you say, you saw images of your parents? I was not aware you had ever met them, being an orphan?"

"I was old enough when they died to remember them, Lady de Bellefeuille," he says softly. "I recalled that you went through a dream of mirrors, too, after I awoke, though in my dream I did not. I do not remember looking at them closely. They showed me nothing I wanted to see. I was looking for-" He stops, and blinks as if in sudden realization. "Truth."

"Truth?" repeats Elise curiously. She taps her fingers against her hand and nods. "But 'No one knows that yet,' as sayeth the giver of secrets. Could it be that that is what she had been speaking of? I recall that being spoken, and thought it to be a clue as to the Dream Realm for us. But perhaps it is tied entirely to you." She pauses, one thump of her fingers against her hand and then the tapping stops for a moment. "And I would have you know my dream ended … differently, and in this manner I could help you identify that one in which I was present. I ended up hugging you, you shivering, and then dozing there and then when you calmed. That is as I remember."

A ghost of a smile traces over his mouth. "I remember that, too. That was how my last dream – reliving your appearance in my room – ended. You said, 'If I must, I will follow you and see your sleep uninterrupted from the dreams themselves.' After that, I had no more dreams."

The poodle cannot help but smirk at this, and she casts her eyes to the heavens, looking up. "Even within my dreams I am protecting someone. First Ones help me," she comments with mild humor. Her gaze then levels and she resumes watching Cyprian. "I am pleased then it had some effect. I am however disturbed to think there is a me within dreams that is not me: a … dream-copy acting in a manner only you are aware of. Though I would theorize she showed less … willpower."

"She was … unconvincing," the mage says, the word clipped. "My state could barely be described as 'aware' at all, and even so I could guess that I was being fed a doppleganger."

"I can imagine as to why. The real and truthful me acted as you saw, and ended that run with madness. Hardly what I imagine was wanted from you, if it should be anything was wanted at all," mentions the Gallee. She takes a few steps forward to stand nearer to Cyprian, tilting her head. "What concerns me is this: Within the dream, you stated that you are … programmed. That you scare yourself, and have programmed your own actions to avoid a self you described as a 'madman'. My question is this, Cyprian, because I dearly need to know the answer. What is the truth? Who are you, really?"

"Truth," he murmurs again. A little of the tension leeches from his arms as he stands before the rail, watching with unfocused eyes at the people passing by below. "A good question, I suppose. Short answer: I don't know." He offers another shadow of a smile.

"You … do not know who you really are? How can that be? You, a Master of Mind," inquires Elise.

Cyprian chuckles, the rich, amused sound Elise is accustomed to. "Have you ever heard the saying, 'The more you learn, the more you find out you do not know?'" He shakes his head, then continues. "When I first apprenticed at the College, I had a number of bad habits, which I soon recognized as just that – bad. Having a hot temper accomplished precisely nothing that I would find useful. For five seconds of lapsed control, I would get a second of satisfaction and a lifetime of repercussions. Well, perhaps I exaggerate. But you get the idea."

"Oh, no, I would not call it an exaggeration at all … I have seen the results. Go on," says the poodle officer.

The mage glances sidelong for an instant, and the half-smile on his face vanishes. "Having concluded that I had these unhelpful behaviors, it seemed like a simple matter to root them out. I don't want to be angry, ergo, I do not get angry. It's my mind, right?" He waves one of his hands vaguely in the air. "For once in my life, I would like something to be that simple. Just once. Truth: even if you are a mind mage – even if you are a good mind mage, which I was not – controlling even one's own feelings is no easy task. I could try spells that would stop me from feeling anger, or any of my other purposeless desires – but even if I succeeded in eliminating those behaviors, I might eliminate things I wanted to keep. For example: say I no longer feel satisfaction at making a cutting remark. Well, that's probably helpful. But what if it also keeps me from feeling satisfaction over anything I say?" He shakes his head. "This is probably more than you need to hear; my apologies, my lady."

A slight nod of the head from the poodle. "I find it rather helpful, actually. I have a great puzzle here, Cyprian. A puzzle that includes not only us, a relationship whose details and oddities I have become acutely aware of recently, but now also the state of your mind and who you may or not be. It would be right to say it is none of my concern as you told me before, but given that I have a considerable investment in your mind … I would know the truth," she says. Another tap of her hands. "Go on, should you have nothing to say to that."

Cyprian nods in acknowledgement. "Very well. To sum up, rather than attempting to stop myself from having these feelings at all, I chose a ritual which would suppress them, to a modest degree, and strengthen my own will to overcome them. The spell acts, if you would, as a little voice in my head saying, 'You don't want to do that; think of the consequences!' It also reinforces certain practical precepts: how to be polite, how to convey my meaning effectively, etc. It's not a separate persona from me – it's all things that I know or believe in, but might not have an easy time remembering at critical moments." He exhales slowly. "For example, at times of great stress."

"I see." With that, the poodle unfolds her hands and turns to the balcony again, standing near Cyprian. She folds her arms and tilts her head so that she can peer at the children below with a look as if reviewing something mentally. After a period of silence she nods. "I believe you. But I would warn you as well, do not think to do what you did again and expect a similar result. I will not restrain my defense for you a second time."

A slight smile on the bat's face answers her statement. "Good," he says, the single word almost inaudible to the poodle's ears.

Another slight nod from the poodle and she stares off into the distance a bit longer. After another long, wordless silence she turns around and reviews Cyprian with her eyes. "If any good came of this, it is that I know you better … and that I too, have been forced to face what I ignore. Look at us, Cyprian. Look at our difference … "

The bat closes his eyes as she turns to face him, and draws in a deep breath. After a moment, he turns to her, then opens his deep, deep green eyes, and meets her gaze. "I always knew," he murmurs. "Just a matter of time before you understood it, too. It's one of your attractions, my lady – your feelings at war with your reason. Like me in that." One hand rests on the rail as he speaks, and the other hangs at his side. For a moment, he starts to lift his free hand, then seems to forcibly stop it, holding it rigidly still beside him.

Elise steps backwards, away from the railing and bids Cyprian follow with a gesture of her hand. "How ironic it all is, as if some divine punishment for hating Eeee. Or perhaps, divine and twisted sense of humor. Maybe your gods take more an interest in us than mere mage-created copies are wont to do," say the noble. She places a hand on her hip and taps her fingers along her thigh. "It scares me. As if, you are somehow a danger to my … 'purity', my score, as a Gallee." A chuckle.

"I – " Cyprian hesitates, turning and taking a pace to follow her, but keeping at arm's length from the poodle. He closes his eyes, and says, "I do not intend to endanger you, my lady."

A snort, and a shake of the head. "I learned that much. Even if things had … degraded, it was wholly within a dream … the waking experience was not a danger to me. It is myself that I fear, even now. But … that is nothing you do not know. I am happy though that I have learned what I have today, here. It answers some questions." She glances to the side of herself, searching for somewhere to sit. "There is another matter that is somewhat related. Mage Yffryn requisitioned my Sifran amulet for a day and has returned it. That disturbs me, and I am considering going to see her about it."

The mage's eyes flick open, and there is a darkness in their depths. "Requisitioned your amulet? On what day?"

"Now that I think of it, it was the day after our unpleasant meeting in your quarters," answers the Gallee.

"And that night … you had the dream of it?" Cyprian asks, his words clipped. "Did Mage Yffryn keep the amulet overnight?"

She nods. "I had a dream yes, though she did not retain the amulet into the night. Still … I do not totally trust her, considering what has happened and how amiable she was with the former Dean," replies Elise.

"Nor I." His jaw clenches briefly, then the dark Eeee holds out his right hand, and says in a carefully controlled voice, "May I see your amulet, my lady?"

"Of course." And with that Elise lifts her hands to her neck, using one hand to hold back armor plates and robes and the other to seek out the amulet. It is pulled over her head, careful of her curly white hair, and offered to the mage.

Cyprian accepts the amulet, his fingers closing around it, barely touching Elise's fingers as she does so. "One moment, please." He walks to the table and sets the bauble on it, then reaches into his pocket, and chuckles as it comes out empty. "With your permission, my lady, I am going to work a spell to determine if anything about your amulet has been changed. If you have no objections?" He turns to glance at her.

The lady poodle nods him to continue. "By all means."

The Eeee takes a shaker of salt from the table, and unscrews the cap, then spills some of the contents onto the table in a circle around the object. He moistens one finger tip, then traces a design in the circle. After inhaling, he begins a chant, which stretches unbroken for a few minutes, while his eyes, the circle, and the amulet's chain all begin to glow.

Quite accustomed to the wait required during the casting of magic, Elise waits patiently, shifting her weight to one leg in preparation for standing around a while. During the spell, she occasionally glances around at this or that in her idleness.

When the mage completes the chant, the glow fades out, and his jaw is set. "This is not your amulet," he says, voice flat, staring into space.

"Wonderful," responds Elise, just as flat. "Well, then it seems I have another conspiracy on my hands. Ask and They shall provide … Cyprian, you know what is involved in my asking this, but I do need you. Would you accompany me to speak with Dean Yffryn?"

With deliberate motions, the black bat catches the amulet up in his fingers, and turns his head to gaze at Elise, his green eyes as hard and unyielding as glass. "My lady, I would think myself remiss if I did not."

"Then let us pay Dean Yffryn a visit, and hope the Sphere of Dream does not require yet another Dean. I would hate to make a mark for myself as the woman who eliminated all potential heads of the Sphere. Though should she think to trick us so foolishly, she will get what she deserves as did the previous Dean," Elise says. The hand she used to gather up the amulet clasps shut in a fist, and she turns to begin on her way out the door wasting no time.

As the black bat and poodle enter the area, they find at the center of the room a single Rath'ani apprentice, eyes shut, in a lotus position, chanting. Apparently, it is not a magical chant, since no visible signs of magic appear.

"I am here to speak with Dean Yffryn," announces the poodle officer as she arrives. A few steps in she stops, left hand steadying her sword as she watches the meditating Rath'ani.

The raccoon opens just one eye to look at her. "Do you have an appointment?" he asks.

A shake of the head shows that no, the officer does not. "No. However, this is a matter of some urgency and I would see her now, busy or not," she replies.

The apprentice closes his eye again. "She's in the middle of vital research and cannot be disturbed," he says with supreme indifference. "If you'd like to make an appointment, I think she has some time free next Transition. She's a very busy woman."

The officer glances to the man accompanying her. "Mage Cyprian, as my aid to dealings with the College, would you consider my breaking of her schedule to be completely founded, given the matter?" she asks him, her tone hinting as if she were asking merely for appearances and very much intent on something.

Cyprian runs the tip of his tongue over his fangs at the raccoon's words, and does not look to Elise as she speaks. Instead, he drops to a half crouch over the raccoon, seated on cushions on the floor, and says, "As a matter of fact … I would." He unfurls his wings, the air from the movement rustling the raccoon's fur, and the apprentice opens his eyes again, looking a little nervous at the black bat looming over him.

A smile, unpleasant though pleased, crosses the poodle's face. She walks after Cyprian and next to him, taps her fingers on the pommel of her sword. "The location of the Dean," she demands more than asks.

The raccoon swallows, looking at the poodle, then the bat. Cyprian smiles again. It's not a kind expression. "You don't want to make the lady ask again," he hints.

On cue with Cyprian's words, Elise tilts her head inquiringly, lifting her brow expectantly.

"Hey … hey … you can't come in here and threaten me!" the apprentice squeaks, in a moment of defiance, which is somewhat spoiled by an attempt to scramble away that tangles his legs and causes him to topple onto his back among the pillows.

"And who, my dear apprentice, is threatening you? We merely wish to know the location of the Dean and do, dearly, need to know now. If of course you were to prove uncooperative to both one of your number and myself, an esteemed guest and … yes … even the woman who investigated and had executed those who conspired against the College, well then we would not be unjustified in seeking sad but necessary means to acquire the information that we need. You, understand, do you not?" The poodle circles around the fallen mage, placing her boots rather close to the sides of his head as she peers down at him.

The raccoon swallows again. He looks at Cyprian, then back to Elise. "She's, uh, in the lab on the fifth floor." he divulges.

"Thank you for your assistance, mage apprentice," says the poodle. She bids him that same smile, and turns to walk further into the complex. "Fifth floor lab. We should hurry."

With one final glance to the boy, the mage nods and follows Elise.

The Dream Sphere's odd architecture makes the "fifth" floor harder to find than Elise would anticipate, but Cyprian appears to have a feel for the way. When they reach the "room" – really a large open space filled with comfortable, low-to-the-ground furnishings and loosely defined separations from the other areas – they spot the gray fox'taur sorting through a number of spell reagents in an apothecary's chest.

After quietly walking in to the room, the poodle spies the Fnerf she had come to find, and takes a moment to observe her behavior, leaning towards Cyprian so as to speak quietly. "Does this appear suspicious to you, Cyprian?" asks Elise of the Eeee beside her.

The mage shakes his head. "No."

With a nod the poodle notes the response and begins walking across the room nearer to the Dean. "Greetings, honored Dean of Dream. Forgive the sudden intrusion, but I do believe with have rather a urgent matter to discuss," she greets her.

Yffryn turns from her work to face Elise, and she smiles brightly. "Hi, Lieutenant! Nice to see you again," she adds, with her cheery little wave. "What seems to be the matter?"

Like a shadow, Cyprian glides in behind Elise, wings half-spread, training his intense gaze on Yffryn.

Elise does not respond to the pleasantries, keeping to her usual stern visage. "An unfortunate matter of a misplaced object. Given the recent conspiracies that abound, you will forgive me if I show great concern over this matter. I will allow for you to explain yourself, in hopes you will ease my worry," Elise tells Yffryn, and though her words are pleasant enough, there is the slightest hint of an implied threat on her voice.

"A misplaced object?" the Fnerf looks concerned. "What object is this? Something of mine?"

Cyprian holds out his hand and unclenches his fist, letting the faux amulet dangle before Yffryn's face. "No. Something of hers."

"It is as Cyprian says. I was hoping you would have admitted your guilt, but perhaps you are … unaware, of what has occurred. I offer you another chance." She lifts her left hand and taps the amulet with her pointer finger, to indicate all the more the object of conspiracy.

Yffryn blinks again at the amulet dangling before her face, her ears pinking faintly at the evident hostility around her. "Umm … is something wrong with your amulet?" she asks, anxiously.

For this question the officer turns to Cyprian, allowing him to answer.

"Yes. Like the fact that this is not her amulet," the Eeee tells Yffryn icily. "So where is the original, and why did you return to her a forgery?"

The gray Fnerf fans her face, blinking again. "It's not hers? Oh! Oh dear." She looks fretful. "I had a couple of mock-ups of it made when we took it to examine it. The courier must have brought her the wrong one by mistake!" Yffryn gives Elise a guileless, panic-stricken look. "I'm so sorry! I don't know how that could have happened… " She stands and starts over to another table. "Here, let me get the fakes out … or at least, what I thought were the fakes… "

"You understand that this matter if great concern, Dean Yffryn. You are aware of what became of the previous Dean and it is known to many you accompanied him often. Such actions such as theft and forgery of a related device can only cast a grim shadow over your future … I dearly hope for your sake a mistake is the case," says the poodle as the Fnerf moves about the room. Elise keeps a careful eye on her, moving after her though keeping a certain distance.

The fox'taur's ears wilt. "Really, now, you wound me," she says, mournfully. "Honestly, the whole department knew I had the duplicates made for testing purposes. I knew you'd want yours back before you… " She stops talking, and stops digging through the drawer she is going through, and looks at Cyprian instead, abruptly noticing that the mage has been chanting for the past few moments. "What," she begins, carefully, "are you doing?"

Meanwhile Elise had been listening, up until the Dean stopped to question Cyprian's actions. Casting a sidelong glance at the Eeee for a moment Elise then shifts her gaze back to the Fnerf. "If that is the case, then you have little to worry about, Dean Yffryn. I do not presume to make the innocent fearful, but if you are guilty … you should have every reason to fear me," she tells her. Shortly after she adds, "Cyprian is likely casting a spell to determine your truthfulness."

If anything, the fox'taur wilts a little more. "Don't you trust me?" she says, plaintively.

The fey glow from the Eeee mage's eyes only makes his countenance more forbidding in appearance.

Elise shakes her head in dismissal, saying, "Trust is to be proven with facts in cases like this. You must understand, what evidence at hand and what has occurred gives me reason to doubt you. It is a sad fact of conspiracy that trust is often compromised … "

"Everyone knows I have nothing to do with the conspirators," Yffryn says, still sounding hurt. "If I did, one of them would have been bound to implicate me. What reason have I to destroy my own Sphere?" As she says this last, Cyprian completes his chant, and the glow fades from his eyes.

"The same reasons the others might have, Dean Yffryn. Power, influence. Take your pick. I believe a few of them wanted to be gods, and had I not explained the process of 'ascension' to you? Theft of my amulet allows for such pursuits. You will forgive me, but I cannot allow that to occur. Thus my concern. Though if you are, as you say, innocent, please by all means show us. And speak truthfully," answers the officer. Once done, she nods her head for Yffryn to continue.

The mage wrinkles her nose unhappily. "Well, I'm not involved with any Babelite conspiracy, or any other plots to destroy the practice of the Sphere of Dreams," she states, looking directly at Cyprian.

"That's nice," Cyprian says, his voice no more forgiving than earlier. "Would you mind repeating that bit you said earlier? The one where you explained how Elise's amulet was accidentally kept instead of returned?"

A nod from the poodle and she asks, "Then, yes, what of the amulet? Do repeat for us."

"As I said," Yffryn flicks her tail nervously, "I had a couple of imitations made. For experiments. We can't replicate the properties of your original crystal, Lieutenant," she tells Elise. "Not with the materials available here. Maybe if we could get to Morpheus – the planet, not the person – but that's out of the question under present circumstances."

The officer casts a glance to Cyprian.

"Any road, I thought it would be worthwhile to see if a similar-looking amulet might have similar properties," the Fnerf continues, while the bat's fixed gaze on her betrays nothing. "You know, a placebo effect, maybe. It did occur to me," she begins, hesitantly, "that it might be, ah, useful if Elise were given one of the imitations. To see whether it would have, ah, the same effect for her." Her tail flicks again. "But I didn't mean for this to happen!" she adds, in hasty protest.

"An unfortunate pick of liberties not earned, Dean Yffryn. You understand what can come from experiments such as this that lack in judgement. If that is the case you should have taken careful precaution in your arranging such a test," Elise reprimands the Dean. "Have you any idea what, assuming you are speaking the truth, could come from such a unwise action? You not only put me in danger – mortally if the amulet's protection wards the dreams – but yourself as well."

"But I didn't mean for him to … " The Fnerf pauses, watching Cyprian, and licks her lips before continuing. "I had you under close observation, Lieutenant. If we'd told you that it was an imitation, it wouldn't've been a proper test of the placebo effect. Surely you understand that, Mage Cyprian."

"And lying to her when she asked what had happened? What 'test' purpose did that serve, Acting Dean Yffryn?" the black bat asks, stalking closer to the woman. Despite her larger size, she takes a step back, then stands her ground.

Elise places her left hand on her hip, while her right taps its fingers along her leg. She shakes her head chidingly. "Curious indeed. There was no need to lie, repeatedly to my inquiries here and even after you had been put under the effects of a truth-detecting spell you continued to stumble over lies. And to have me observed without my knowledge. Do explain what you were thinking, as I cannot fathom it," the Gallee says.

"… well … you had me a bit shaken here, coming up here all in a rage like that. And I haven't lied, I mean, apart from not coming right out and saying that I wanted the test done. Have I, Mage Cyprian?" Yffryn asks, smiling winningly again.

"Not since I finished the spell," the black mage says, not giving up an inch.

"See?" the Fnerf gestures to the Mind mage in evidence, smiling at Elise now. "I'm sorry about all this fuss, Lieutenant de Bellefeuille, really, I am," she says, sincerely. "I've been so caught up in trying to handle my duties, with the department of Dream even more gutted than before – we lost about half of our few remaining mages in the conspiracy clean-up, more's the pity – and, well, I just haven't known what else to do. I haven't really been thinking my actions through," the dream mage continues, looking sad. "I've just been rushing, trying to get things done and fixed as fast as I could."

The poodle in turn doesn't look convinced, and frowns at the words. "And you find my anger unfounded, Dean Yffryn? Do you recall that I recently played a part in breaking up a major conspiracy dealing with this very sphere? Are you, by some great chance, oblivious to the state of Mage Envoy? You may wish to be relieved it is just the two of us, as I would have hated to have brought the Watch, who I can only imagine would be displeased with your actions. If you wish to perform studies upon me, then obtain my permission. I am not your enemy, nor am I a free experiment to be tested at whim. I am willing to assist you if you take the time to seek me out." She lets her hands fall to her side and shakes her head again. "Really, Dean."

The fox'taur's wilted ears and tail stay down. "I really am very, very sorry," she says, meekly. Turning back to the table she went to earlier, she fishes out an amulet just like the one Cyprian dangled before her minutes ago. "Here's your amulet back."

The amulet is accepted, and then passed to Cyprian. "Mage Cyprian, have you any further questions of the Dean?" she asks him.

The bat accepts the amulet. "Not yet." He drops the object to the table, and begins the same chant he used earlier in the Court of Air.

"Oh, now, really," the Dean says, looking even more hurt, if such a thing was possible. "I said it was hers under a truth spell. Surely you can trust that."

As she waits, Elise takes a moment to turn and look around the room. Her right hand moves to her head, brushing curly locks away before it rests against her forehead. And as such she rests, waiting, saying nothing more.

As the minutes pass, Yffryn sighs and goes back to sifting through the reagents in her chest, offering the occasional quiet apology and cheerful word to the poodle, who ignores her. When Cyprian finally finishes, he hands the amulet to Elise. "This one is yours."

"Thank you," she tells both Cyprian and the Dean. The amulet is accepted and shortly after returned to its place around the poodle's neck. "Well then, it would seem that this minor conspiracy is resolved," says Elise, sounding perhaps unconvinced, as if missing something – though by her tone it would not appear she is angry over whatever that is.

"I do hope you can forgive me for this, Lieutenant. I really do feel badly for the way I've handled this, especially not being honest with you up front," Yffryn apologizes, wagging her tail weakly in optimism.

Cyprian glowers at the acting Dean, but says nothing else.

The poodle doesn't respond at first, instead glancing off again at nothing in particular. She then casts her gaze skywards as if seeking some release there. "Given your conduct, though greatly questionable, was not intended as a plot but to further your research and recovery I cannot find it in myself to condemn you. Rather, I would urge you to use greater caution in your choices, and … I would offer to assist you in your research if I am needed. I am aware I am the only one who can truly act in the dreams, who is not under manipulation from one party or another and I concede that I must be useful to you in that respect," says the poodle in words more tired than previously. Without the conspiracy to pursue it seems her wear shows when faced with only a sad Fnerf to speak to. "I accept your apology."

"Oh, thank you!" the Fnerf says, elated. "You've no idea how much your cooperation means to me!" Her wagging, like her voice, grows enthusiastic.

The black bat stalks across the open space to Yffryn, and gazes intently down at her. "Remember. Lady de Bellefeuille may have offered her understanding and forgiveness, but that does not mean I have. Watch your step, Mage Yffryn," he warns, and the "hurt puppy" look returns to her face.

The officer inclines her head to the Dean respectfully. "Again, I ask your forgiveness in the sudden disturbance and investigation. It is my hope we can keep this minor incident between the three of us." She reaches over and pats Cyprian on the arm, shaking her head. "A conspiracy, however small … well, we should leave the Dean to lament her mistakes. Come, Mage Cyprian, let us relax as is our due. I for one am famished."