West Face of Mount Sunala
The western slopes of Mount Sunala are steeper than those facing the city, and very distinctly divided from the city-side, with a ridge defining the top of the mountain more so than a true peak. This ridge marks a stark contrast from side to side, as the city-side is largely barren, marked only with stone monuments to Sunala, and a winding road leading up to the temple complex at the summit. This side, however, is claimed by forest where the earth has not given way to cliffs and small tumbling waterfalls, and only occasionally is there sign of some shrine or statue of Sunala, peeking out from beneath the low-hanging branches of a tree, or half-buried where it lies amidst piles of wind-blown leaves. In the valley below, gray vaults and countless tombstones dot a rolling field, flanking a stream that cuts through it.

It is that cold, windy part of the year that is either late autumn or late winter – from day to day, the weather just can't seem to decide which – and only a very few golden and crimson leaves stubbornly cling to skeletal trees in the valleys, while the evergreens darken the frosted slopes above. At the summit, the Temple of Sunala is surrounded by snow, though the Yodh make certain that no drifts accumulate upon its steps. Here further down the mountain, though, no flakes have yet fallen, though low-hanging gray clouds seem to ponder whether or not to take care of that oversight, prodding at the ground with bitter gusts of wind now and then to see if no more leaves can be loosed from barren trees, and it might be time to blanket them in snow.

This side of the mountain is still sacred to the Eeee, and as there is a winding path that leads up to the summit on the city side, there is another that leads back down into the "hidden" valley beyond. Alptraum has been given special dispensation to roam the forests on this side as he sees fit – even to take wing if it suits him – though no such permission has been granted to him on the side facing the city, at least not without an escort.

With no obvious sign of the city, this does seem a bit more like home – though Sylvania lacks well-tended graveyards such as the one that can be seen in the valley below. (They have monuments for the dead, yes, but funeral pyres are used rather than shovels and dirt to dispose of the bodies, lest the bereaved have the added concern of having their departed beloved come back from the dead, as is believed to happen now and again in that land.)

The land is not entirely wild, for here and there amidst the trees can be seen clearings and tower tops that hint at the outlying estates of landholding families, but the terrain is rugged enough that it is unsuitable for farming beyond a few private gardens, orchards and hives. The hunting is good – and for all that can be told, Alptraum may be the first (aside from poachers) to hunt on these slopes for centuries.

There is no hunting to be done just now, though. Alptraum has found a perch upon a moss-caked boulder in the shadow of one of the larger waterfalls. It drops three feet over a rocky exposure to splash into a crystal clear pool, and just behind the "waterfall" – a few trickles of water, really, rather than sheets – someone has carved a nook, and placed an Eeee statue, probably yet another statue of Sunala … except that she looks uncharacteristically benevolent. (Or, since the statue is so eroded, perhaps the faint "smile" is just an accident of time.)

From here, he has an excellent view of the valley below, and the mountains of the Golan Range crowd out the horizon. The mountains surrounding Babel are quite unlike any of them, shaped as if the earth under Babel had once been mud, and a rock were thrown into the midst of it – and as the mud sloughed outward, it solidified into stone. The other mountains of the Golan Range, by contrast, look much like mountains would anywhere else in the world.

In the time that has been spent waiting – trying to find out what might have become of Nekara and Autumn-Storm and eventually starting to accept that they might very well be dead – Alptraum has fashioned for himself a new recorder, to replace the old one that he had made for himself long ago in Sylvania. The wood is of a different variety, a different color, and the sound isn't perfectly the same – at least, not to his keen Eeee ears – but it is still capable of producing a pleasing sound, and a welcome distraction.

It is not such a distraction, however, that Alptraum is not aware of his surroundings. His keen ears pick up the sound of soft boots crunching through leaves, and the brush of heavy robes. It sounds like it might be a Yodhsunala, but why would she be walking through the forest? (Certainly nobody else has a right to venture this far off of the sacred path.)

Alptraum quickly tucks away the recorder he's worked on for some time. His ears tilt, tracking the sound of the person walking and he wonders just who this could be. He's usually the only one out here and he prefers it that way. As his ears track, the Eeee starts looking for a good place to conceal himself, mindful that he may very well be a target of other Yodh, and perhaps they've learned of his daily jaunts into the forest.

As this spot is one he's frequented several times already, he's quite familiar with the layout. A tumble of rocks to one side of the falls conceals a cul-de-sac in which he might hide, with the trickle of the falling water to help conceal any sound of his breathing even from Eeee ears, or else he might try the hollow of a nearby dead tree. (It's cold enough that the bugs shouldn't bother him – much.) Other than that, there are many bushes and rocks to hide behind – less specifically useful as "hiding places," but keeping his options open to flee if need be.

Skills he picked up Sylvania and on the road serve Alptraum well. Seeming almost effortless, he slips off his current perch noiselessly and into the hollow behind the tumble of rocks. He crouches down and slows his breathing to help mask the sound with that of the water. His ears then try to re-track the person walking, curiosity gnawing at him about who this could be.

A Yodhsunala steps into the clearing – white hair, black fur, robes of ebony and blood red – cautiously, slowly, quietly, scanning with her ears, but showing no evidence of spying Alptraum in his hiding place. It takes a moment for his mind to click as recognition dawns on him, but when she speaks, her familiar voice dispels any doubts. "Alptraum?" Nekara whispers. "Where are you?"

Alptraum slips out of his hiding place. His hand moves to rest on the hilt of his dagger as he does so, though, just in case it's some sort of a trap. "I'm here," comes Alptraum's careful reply, resisting the urge to rush up and hug her.

Nekara's head swivels quickly, and for a moment she looks surprised at the sight of Alptraum, but then calms. "Your skills at sneaking about have improved greatly, I see," she says quietly, a faint smirk tugging at her mouth, but warring with a frown.

"And a good thing, too," Alptraum says, relaxing some and moving closer to the Yodhsunala. "Things have been – interesting. But I can get to that later. What happened to you and Autumn-Storm after my near-fatal poisoning and the subsequent attempt on my life by Sutrana?"

"Autumn-Storm disappeared," Nekara says, "and if there is any tale to be told of her adventures, she shall have to tell it herself, provided she still can. Other than that, I can only suppose that you might go to the Yodhbarada, if you have enough coin to satisfy them, to find out what they might know – but I doubt even they would know. I last saw her at Nalalua. And as for myself … I continued on to Babel, but in secret, for I learned from Sutrana that a schism has split the temple. Friction between the two sides is not merely heated – it's lethal."

Alptraum nods slowly and says, "Well, as long as Autumn-Storm lives, I am happy. At least Sutrana didn't get to her. Speaking of Sutrana, are you certain you should trust it? She tried to kill me, but her goons mistook some poor merchant instead in the darkness."

"I know what I know," Nekara says. "A terrible heresy has befallen the Temple of Sunala. A child sits on a throne never meant to be occupied by mortal form. She claims to be Sunala Herself, and the Yodh bow down before her. What shall happen to us when the inevitable happens – when she grows old, when she dies? Will our faith be obliterated when the common people balk at the idea of Death … dying? And I had no idea – no, perhaps I did, but I didn't want to believe – that you might be drawn into this. You must leave Babel – leave while you can. I can arrange transport, I can give you gold, I even offer myself as your servant, if only you will leave this place and never come back. This heresy must not be allowed to continue. You must not allow them to make you into a demi-god."

"Me? Into a demi-god? What are you … " Alptraum says, then pauses. "You're referring to the fact I'm the son of a Srinala, aren't you?" he then asks.

"Yes, but there's more than that," Nekara says. "It is obvious that you are touched by the gods, but perhaps not for the purpose that the Yodhsunala would like to think. You must understand, the concept of 'gods' amongst the Babelites is not quite the same as it is in other cultures. We recognize that certain great heroes of old have gone on to places of honor after their mortal lives – though they still do not compare to the greater deities, those who were of supernatural origin to begin with. You do not need to make the earth tremble or lay waste to entire armies to be a claimant to the status of lesser deity – though surely it would help. But it is undeniable that the supernatural world is not far from you. I sense in you a potential – but a potential for what, I cannot say. It is something that may be awakened … or perhaps it will always be dormant. The Yodhsunala are watching you for some sign."

"Well, there was my power over the Sea of Souls, but that has gone," Alptraum says, then shrugs. "I was born from a Srinala, and was the fatherless child on top of that. I'll admit I'm probably touched by the Gods in some way. The Yodhbarada even said in a way it could be seen as I am the son of Sunala in a more literal sense. While I really hate this place, I'd still like to know what I am expected to become. Part of me wants to leave, part of me wants to stay and try to help this place – or at least the people affected by my birth, like Rikat. I feel horrible for him, forced to take my place and made to look like me."

"If you exhibit any powers, for the love of all that is and was and ever will be, do not flaunt them before the Yodhsunala," Nekara pleads. "If you are told that you are someone special, that destiny holds some special place for you, don't listen to them! Surely destiny does have some purpose for you, but let it be somewhere else, somewhere far from Babel. If you are meant to be a sorcerer or to hold some great power, then surely you can make a comfortable living traveling and impressing the common folk – but not playing a part in this travesty unfolding in the temple. So it is true you were born without a father? Consider yourself blessed, then. I was a fool to bring you here. I had no idea what would become of the Yodh in my absence. Sutrana is too quick to shed blood, but I am no less willing than she to see to it that our honor is not sullied."

Alptraum's hand tightens around the hilt of his dagger. "Are you threatening me, Nekara?" Alptraum asks softly. "Have you forgotten I told you before I didn't want any place of power? What I want are answers Nekara. If there is something within me, I want to know what to prevent it from hurting others. Didn't you once tell me not to run? And her you are now telling me to run."

Nekara's expression hardens, as her eyes dart down to Alptraum's hand. "Yes. That is exactly what I am telling you to do: run. I did not know then what I know now. Even the Yodh know what is happening, though they blind themselves, thinking themselves more holy, more like their Mistress for doing so. They want power, and the one who calls herself Sunala offers them a chance at that – a goddess ruling mortals directly. This is foolishness – and you must not be a part of it. You may say now that you do not want power, but what will you be willing to do to get your way, when you are challenged?"

"I am willing to defend my life, nothing more," Alptraum replies softly. "You wanted me to come here. You said Sunala said to bring me here. I have no delusions of grandeur, Nekara. I'm not immortal, not like what some of the Yodhsunala seem to believe. I'm not here to prove myself."

"And now you have come," Nekara says. "You've seen Babel. You've learned who your mother is. Isn't that enough? What more can Babel possibly offer you?"

"A chance to help people? A chance to bring some hope to the lives of the people here? A chance to do something right to repay those who did so much for me? I'm not looking to be a god, or even well known. I'm just some freakish thing – yes, freakish, a mistake. I'm not lying to myself anymore," Alptraum says, voice tinged with hurt. "Remember the airship we saved? Remember what I said to you that day? I want to make a difference, to make things better even in small ways. Maybe that's what Babel offers me – a chance to do something right for a change. I don't know, but if I flee I'll never know."

Nekara just stands there quietly a moment after Alptraum's words, without rebuttal, but before the silence draws too long, before he can add more, she nods once. "We'll see, then. Be mindful of Sunala – the true Sunala – and should we meet again… " She doesn't finish that statement, but instead turns to walk toward the edge of the clearing.

"Nekara, wait. Please," Alptraum says, taking a step after her.

Nekara stops, turning to face Alptraum, her expression solemn.

Alptraum takes another step and says, "I consider you my friend, Nekara." He then swallows and says, "You're siding with Sutrana, aren't you? You're going to try and kill me, aren't you?"

"If that is what is required, then, yes," Nekara says.

Alptraum looks at Nekara long and hard. "Then permit me one breach of protocol," Alptraum says, trying to hold his voice steady as he walks over to her.

Nekara does not move. Her eyes do not leave Alptraum.

Alptraum quietly and carefully reaches out, then hugs Nekara.

The priestess does not resist, does not go rigid, but only stands there, allowing herself to be hugged. She presses her cheek against Alptraum's, and he can feel that the fur is slightly damp.

"Always remember, you are my friend," Alptraum whispers. "I could have faced Sutrana without second thought. I could face another of those blood demons without flinching. But you," he says, pulling back to look in her eyes. "I … I can't fight you. I know we don't always see eye to eye on things. I know we have fought – but I came here because of my fear for your safety. I came because you believed in me and that I could somehow help Babel. Can't we work together? Must we be enemies now?"

"That is for you to decide," Nekara whispers. "I do not wish to see harm come to you. But I must do what I must do. And if you should be forced to kill me to defend yourself, my spirit will not hold it against you. I must go now. You have another visitor coming."

Alptraum lets go and nods softly. "I understand, though I hope it never comes to that. If you are ever in danger, you can still call for me. I will come," Alptraum says, then offers a sad smile.

Nekara slips away, wordlessly vanishing into the trees – though her skills at stealth in the woods are obviously far inferior to Alptraum's own, and he can hear twigs snapping and leaves crunching for time after. But what's more, he can hear the soft beat of wings, and a faint sounding cry. True to what Nekara said, someone else is coming, and this time by air.

Alptraum lets out a soft sigh, the feeling of utter loneliness filling him. If Nekara came for him, could he even fight her? Would he? He shakes his head, clearing out such thoughts and moves toward the edge of the clearing to partially obscure himself in case the next visitor proves to be a threat.

Two visitors, it turns out, as two Eeee land, both dressed in the dark robes of the Yodhsunala, though greatly varying in age. One is an older Eeee – a bit younger than Alptraum's mother, perhaps – whose dark fur has chocolate highlights, and her hair is silvery-grey. The younger Yodhsunala wears the simple robes of an acolyte, and while her fur appears black and her hair white as is traditional, it's obviously dyed and bleached, and in need of refreshing, for dark roots are showing through in her partly disheveled mop of hair. "I'm certain I heard voices here, mistress," the acolyte says, looking about at the trees.

"If he wishes to come out, he will," the older woman says. "But perhaps you were right. Maybe we should have just waited at the temple."

"No, I am here," Alptraum replies and steps a short ways back into the clearing. "Forgive me, but my life and travels have made me wary."

The older Eeee sucks in her breath as Alptraum appears, while the acolyte just folds her hands within her sleeves and bows her head in a subservient manner. At last, the older priestess finds her voice. "It … it is you, then. You … Oh, where is my mind? You can't know me." Her wings shift, and Alptraum can see that there are many scars running about them, looking very much as if they had been shredded and then – somehow, surely with a dose of magic involved – stitched back together and mostly healed. "I am Mariamara. I was your nurse, when you were very, very young."

Alptraum's silver eyes go wide. "I… " he stammers, "I do remember you. Your voice, you sang to me. Once told me I would like my new home… " He steps forward, movements almost awkward and unsure.

Mariamara smiles. "Then you remember far more than I would expect. But then, who am I to say? You are very special. You always were." Her eyes turn moist, and she spreads her arms. "Please, come to me, so I can see what a fine young man you've grown to be."

The acolyte looks faintly embarrassed for some reason – perhaps at a Yodhsunala seeming so motherly – and her eyes dart momentarily to Alptraum, and then she just averts her eyes to regard the waterfall instead.

Alptraum sucks in his breath this time and approaches. His eyes look over her as he does so, trying to figure out the mixture of emotions he's feeling. Then suddenly, he just rushes forward and hugs Mariamara tightly. "I … I always hoped but never thought I would see you again," he stammers.

Mariamara smiles, and half-chuckles as she combs Alptraum's hair – now very white, as his disguise has grown out by now – with her fingers. "The same is true here. But here I am, and here you are. And … so much time to think on the matter, and I find it hard to think of what to say now that you are here!"

"You too?" Alptraum says, a small grin creeping across his face. "I … I must look awful. The trip here was long and rough. I haven't trimmed my hair in ages. I … I'm babbling again is what I'm doing."

"You can babble all you please," Mariamara says. "It's surely your right." She looks at Alptraum's recorder. "And what is this? Are you a musician, then?"

"Avralie. I learned to play living with the Reisenders. I wanted to learn, so I would never forget the song you sang to me," Alptraum admits. "Were the Reisenders the ones you left me with all those years ago? They always told me they found me alone, on the road."

Mariamara smiles gently. "I am sorry that you should be given any tales like that. You were not so alone when they found you, but I gave them very strict instructions on what you should be told. I did not wish that you might be emboldened to begin a search for your origins before such time as it would be right, and thus no tantalizing clues or hints. At least – none more than would be proper."

"So, they knew," Alptraum replies, "It does explain my father, Dimitri's, reaction when I learned of Sunala and of what the fortune teller told me about what she saw in me. It explains the fear in his eyes." He then reaches up and unhooks the pendant around his neck and offers it to Mariamara and says, "I suppose this is yours, then."

Mariamara sighs when she sees the pendant. "No, it is yours," she says, softly putting up a hand to forestall his offering, and then wrapping his hand in both of hers. "It was meant as a means to identify you, should you be separated as a child. I am flattered that you kept it for so long, really. And I have a new one of my own." She taps the pendant she has hanging around her own neck, very similar to the one Alptraum has.

"I kept it, hoping to find the meaning behind it," Alptraum says, his silver eyes looking into her eyes. "I have so many questions. So many things I've always wanted to know."

"Well, I can't claim to hold all the answers," Mariamara says, "but I will do my best." She glances sidelong to the acolyte who has been patiently and quietly standing to the side. "Perhaps we should head back to the temple – or at least somewhere out of the open. I suspect we may be talking a great long while, and it won't be so warm – " (this said with some irony) " – all day long!"

"Someplace warmer and more private would be good," Alptraum agrees.

Mariamara sits on one of the benches near the hearth, warming herself by the fire. The acolyte that attended her outside has left for now, and the corridor just outside the chamber is quiet enough that it's a fair bet they aren't being eavesdropped on. "So, tell me something about yourself. Anything. I'm hungry to know."

"I'm not all that interesting, I'm afraid. I've lived with the Reisenders most of my life, but you know that. We traveled a lot – being entertainers mostly. Music and feats of flight, that was me. Haven't had many friends – most were always nervous of me," Alptraum says.

Mariamara smiles at this. "Well, I suppose that's to be expected. Just so you know, you weren't left alone in Sylvania. Arrangements were made at the yearly gatherings – that is, those where your tribe and others would meet together for the festivals – so that a little something would be left for your adoptive parents to help them get through the year. That is why you never went hungry."

"Well, going hungry wasn't usually too much of a worry," Alptraum says softly and looks away.

Mariamara by all appearances completely misses this. "That's good to hear. So … is there anyone special waiting for you back in Sylvania?"

"No. There isn't," Alptraum replies, "Like I said, most were nervous of me."

He shrugs lightly and adds, "Plus, I knew few Eeee in Sylvania outside my parents there. The only recent one I met there was the vampire Sheriff of Blackshire.

Mariamara nods. "Perhaps it is just as well. All the better that you were not discovered for this time. But if that is all you have to tell me … I suppose that leaves the questions you have to ask of me. Perhaps I will learn a little more of you by what questions you ask." She winks amiably.

"Well, most are silly questions now that I think on it," Alptraum says sheepishly. "Like, when was my birthday? Did I even have a name?"

"Landing Six," Mariamara says, smiling faintly. "Your birthday is not so far away. And you will be twenty-three years old. Your parents had a little help in guessing at your true age when they found you. As for your name … well, if there was any name to be picked for you, it was to be Rikat. It is not a common word, so I doubt you recognize it, but it would translate into your language as 'power of life.' But as it is, you have a name all your own, and that is just as well."

"Power of life – that's appropriate," Alptraum says softly. "Avralie, I do. Translates to Nightmare too."

Mariamara's smile flickers at that. "Oh, goodness. Well … they raised you from a weanling. I suppose they had a right to name you whatever they pleased." She sighs.

"It was a tribe decision, because of what I was," Alptraum says and looks down. "It was to be an insult."

At this, the priestess frowns deeply. "Because of what you were? I told them precious little about you – certainly nothing worthy of the scorn of your adoptive tribe."

Alptraum looks up, confused. "You … really don't know, do you?" he asks.

"Know what?" Mariamara asks, looking confused herself.

"Please," Alptraum says, looking around to make sure they're alone and he hears no one else nearby. "I'm no danger to anyone, so please don't panic or run," Alptraum says, sounding almost pleading.

To the best of Alptraum's ability to tell, they are indeed alone. Mariamara's eyes narrow, as if against a bright light. "What … is it?"

"I'm a blood-drinker, Mariamara. I can't digest normal food," Alptraum admits hesitantly. He then reaches up and pulls back his lip to reveal one sharp fang.

Mariamara shrinks back slightly. "I … I didn't know. I … " She sighs. "You had signs, as an infant … you were difficult to wean. You got sick when you had your first solid food. I was worried when I turned you over to the Reisenders, but there was no more time. I told myself it was just that you were sick from the airship journey… " She looks away, as if searching for something on the walls.

"That's why they named me Nightmare. When they found out… " Alptraum says with a sigh. "People have always looked at me like I was a monster, save a few: the Reisenders, Hexen, Autumn-Storm, and a few others." Alptraum tries to move closer to Mariamara, mindful that should she pull away, he'll stop.

Mariamara doesn't pull away any further. She seems lost in some vision. "It … I don't understand. You were a miracle birth. Why … why would you be… Why? What does it mean?"

"I was hoping you would know," Alptraum says and sits beside Mariamara. "I don't understand it either. I always thought my father must've been one, or something. But, I didn't have a father and my mother wasn't. There's irony in it, when you think on it. Child of Sunala, whom in a way has to feed on the life of others for him to live."

The priestess worries the chain around her neck with the fingers of one hand. "I trust that it has some greater meaning. Ironic, that we should choose Sylvania for you to live in, not knowing… " She shakes her head. "It makes no difference. You are who you are, and if this is the way you are … then it is for a purpose. Sunala's wisdom is greater than mine."

"Best choice you could have made, except that the ones there rejected me for this," Alptraum says and taps his pendant. "What am I, really? Tell me about my birth. What happened? Why was the Srinala allowed to carry me to term if it was a heresy? Why, if they believed that a child of a Srinala would be immortal, would they believe sacrificing me on the alter would kill me?"

Mariamara shakes her head. "What does 'immortal' mean? That is the simple reason of it. It is written in the sacred texts that should life come from death, it would be free from mortality … but that wording is vague. Does it mean free from the natural ravages of age, or does it mean free from death at all?"

"If anyone should wish to kill you," the priestess says, "it would not disprove that you are 'immortal' in all senses of the word – it would just render the question moot in their minds – an uncomfortable question that they would rather not be answered."

"That has already begun," Alptraum says softly. "Yodhsunala Sutrana has tried to kill me once. I escaped, barely."

Mariamara nods. "Yes. You told Asterezadze, and she told me. We had wondered what became of her. It is not like her to stray so far from Babel – certainly not without letting anyone know of her whereabouts. She has taken it into her heart to defy the High Priestess – even Sunala Herself – and make herself a prophetess of her own words. I am sorry that such a thing came to be."

"She does not believe the child is Sunala. She fears that the faith will die when the child ages and dies. She fears they may try to make me a demi-god, so she tried to kill me," Alptraum answers. "In an odd way, I can understand her fear."

"Well, Sunala will control the outcome," Mariamara says, "and it is our duty to do as She bids. Whether Sunala sits upon the throne here, or is enthroned upon the seat of space and time – or both – it matters not. Sunala's will be done; there can be no other way."

"I just pray that there will be no more killing. Babel needs hope, not more wars," Alptraum replies and looks over at Mariamara. "I want to understand what part I am to play in this. Nekara said she could sense potential in me. A Savanite priestess kidnapped me because she sensed great power in me and wanted it. I think they fear I will be Babel's destroyer. In a way, I fear that too."

Mariamara nods silently. "It is hard to see the way of the Kindly Ones." She turns to look to Alptraum. "I know then what you fear. But what do you hope?"

"That somehow I can help here. I'm not even sure how. It's one thing to fly to an airship and fight off an attacking waashu. It's another to save a dying city. I don't want to be seen as someone of power, I just want to do something right. If that makes any sense?" Alptraum replies. "I feel I owe it to those who have suffered because of me," he adds, looking down at Mariamara's wings. "Like you … and like Rikat."

The priestess nods, absently tracing a finger along one of the old scars in the membranes of her wings. "The time will come soon when you will have to decide what you are. I do not think that Sunala will tell you. The Yodh do not know what to expect of you. You may be prophet or sorcerer, hero or destroyer, angel or demon. And who is to say that one or the other does not still serve Sunala's greater purpose?" She sighs. "It may be that your time in Babel will awaken whatever power it is you have – or perhaps it will require a quest into the Valley of Mists, though I would not wish such a thing." She looks back to Alptraum. "No one is prompting you, no one is telling you what is expected of you, because they suppose that you should know. It is how the legends always go. The one with the power to act acts, of his own accord – or so it is assumed. I myself do not think that a hero ever acted truly alone, but I do not write the chronicles."

"Nekara once told me my heroics were foolish – when I went and saved an airship. I told her I wasn't trying to be a hero, I was just trying to be a person who can live. If I hadn't acted then, they would have died. I had a chance to save them, so I took it. It wasn't even a choice," Alptraum replies and shakes his head. "Those who wrote that, I think, do not know how it feels to be completely alone. It helps to stand your ground, when at least one person believes in you – when one person cares."

"Well, I believe in you, and I care," Mariamara says, smiling gently. "I always have, and always will – and I pray that I am not alone."

Alptraum smiles at that. "Thanks. Can I ask you something else? What is the Valley of the Mists?"

"It lies to the north of Babel, a Forbidden Zone where strange things happen, and monsters roam, it is said," Mariamara says, "though it is hard to say, since the Temple would prefer that none ever venture there, and there's nothing really worth going there just for the sake of spiting their authority over the Forbidden Zones. Nothing, that is, save for the testing of one's powers – and a Forbidden Zone is bound to do just that. The laws of nature do not work the same way all the time, when one is in a Forbidden Zone."

"Couldn't be much worse than the Sea of Souls, could it? I've had to deal with that place many times," Alptraum replies.

"Hmm," Mariamara says, nodding. "Perhaps, but it is still a hazardous place, and one to be respected. It should not be entered without clear purpose. Now and then, Exiles have appeared in that place, and wandered out – but I am certain a great many more never even made it so far."

Alptraum nods at that. "I'm more curious, simply because I don't want whatever power I might have to show up suddenly and end up harming something. I've nothing to prove to myself; I've fought through zombies, helped take down a blood beast thing, and other such events." He then adds, "And would you be interested in a tale of something that happened to me in Sylvania? If so, I ask you to not tell anyone else the tale, because I'm not sure how much is simply related to some dream spell gone wild and I don't want assumptions made about me."

Mariamara smiles. "I can keep a secret."

"This happened some time ago. It scared me then, because I didn't understand any of it. Reckoning Eve is when it occurred. I had just rescued a farmer from a ghost attack, in itself a long story. But, I was recovering in my room and playing music – the song I heard you sing to be specific. I think I fell asleep, but then found myself flying in the most beautiful skies I had ever seen. I love flying, it was wonderful. There I met someone incredibly beautiful. I know now it was Inala," Alptraum begins.

The priestess nods, her ears focused on Alptraum.

Alptraum says, "She looked at me sadly and said: "I'm sorry Alptraum, but you don't belong here." Then the beautiful place began to pull away from me. I pleaded, begged, but she just smiled sadly at me. Down I went, swallowed by dark clouds. My wings were useless, I couldn't go up, no matter how hard I tried. So, I simply let go and plummeted. Down, down into the Sea of Souls."

"Well, I was terrified there. The souls cried out to me, wanting me to join them so they could live through me. It was there I saw the soul of someone I had met as a ghost. I reached out to her, and she reached to me. Moments later, I was in her home, on the day she died. I sat with her as her life slipped away. It was there she asked me to relay a message to the one she loved. I agreed, and she passed away, I hope peacefully," Alptraum says, looking over at Mariamara again.

Mariamara nods, awestruck. "And then?" she prompts.

"Back to the Sea of Souls I went. But, I was no longer bound there. I could fly up, and began to do so," Alptraum says, "On the way up, I saw someone coming down. A Savanite I had met earlier, Autumn-Storm. I flew to her and caught her. It was incredible how fast I seemed to move when I did it. Again, scene changed and I was standing in the rain. Autumn-Storm was laying beneath a fallen roof, dying from a knife wound. I went to her and kneeled down. I tried to console her. It was strange – I didn't know how to sign then, yet I understood her perfectly. She begged me to not let her die. Not like that. I told her I didn't know if I could do anything, but I would try. I woke up shortly later, back in my room."

The priestess is silent, to the point that Alptraum has to pause a moment just to assure himself that she's still breathing. (She is.)

"It just began to rain. A storm had rolled in. It was just a dream, right? Wrong. I got up, feeling that I had time to save her. I ran downstairs and out into the starting storm. I flew to the place in my dream; it wasn't far. The rain had begun to come down hard then," Alptraum says, his silver eyes now locking with Mariamara's eyes. "I found Autumn-Storm there, beneath the collapsed roof – dying from a knife wound. She was alive barely. I picked her up and carried her back to an inn where they summoned a doctor. She pulled through – and she remembered seeing me there, and begging for me to save her life. It still doesn't make much sense to me. Part of me feels that somehow, I stopped her from dying. Somehow, that I held off letting her soul into the Sea. Maybe it's just a fluke from the Dream spell gone wild I was told about. Maybe not. What do you think?"

"Has anything like that happened since then?" Mariamara asks, finally finding words, now that a question has been posed to her. "With all that has happened lately, I honestly cannot be sure. I suspect anything tied to dreams to have something to do with that ritual … but I cannot deny that this is well beyond the sorts of tales I have heard told of the Realms."

"I met the child there later. The one thought of as Sunala," Alptraum replies. "I have been to the Sea several times. It reacted to me when I was there … responded to me. I could will souls up from it. Or even the living to the place. I drew Nekara into the realm once. Of course, I haven't been able to do anything like that for some time, but, that is that."

Mariamara nods. "Well, perhaps it was tied to that. But surely it points to something of greater import. I wish I had answers for you on such things – some higher wisdom to offer – but for now, I do not. A riddle to solve, perhaps."

"Maybe that ritual triggered something dormant in me. Tied to it, but not part of it. Hard to say," Alptraum adds. "Now, 'd like to ask you something, what can you tell me about Rikat. Not me, the other guy who looks like me." Alptraum then grins a bit.

"Ah … Rikat," Mariamara says, and nods. "I am so sorry about what happened at the tower. I have heard more than a little of it. He can be very … temperamental."

"I noticed. He did attack me, but I probably said more than I should have," Alptraum admits.

Mariamara says, "He doesn't know the whole story. He believes he is of House Tekkis … and, to be honest, I'm not completely certain that he isn't. He was taken into the household of the Sabaoth, so that he might be carefully kept close at hand, observed, and trained. Since the Sabaoth intended to replace his mind with his own, there was no real concern given to his education, though I did my best to see to that, regardless. The Sabaoth, of course, is gone now, but he has still been kept close to the heart of power in Babel, for others have learned his "secret" and determined that he should be kept as an asset, a guarantee of blessing from the Kindly Ones … even if that blessing did little good for the Sabaoth or the High Prince or Princess."

"He was surprised to see me, as I was to see him. I guess there really is only one Eeee born naturally with silver eyes, though, me. How is it he came to look like me?" Alptraum asks.

"He was an infant born on the same day as you were," Mariamara says, "and he had been offered up to the temple as a sacrifice: an unwanted child. That is, you should know, the most common way for the Yodh to enter the priesthoods, or for others to be chosen to serve the temples – they are given up as sacrifices, but instead the Yodh decide that they will be more useful in living service. So it was with him, though he was subjected to many magical rituals to alter his appearance – something that is very common for infant girls destined to become acolytes in the service of Sunala, but not so for infant boys destined to tend the temple."

"I don't suppose we could have gotten mixed up?" Alptraum asks.

"That would have been a most grievous mistake to make," Mariamara says, "and one I can't stand to entertain. For what it is worth, I have been with Rikat since his time as an infant, and he has not demonstrated the least bit of supernatural leanings for all this time. No meaningful dreams to relate, and certainly no miracles in the least degree. I find it very difficult to think such a thing could happen. No, with the trouble we put into this exchange, such a 'mix-up' would have to be deliberate."

"And you said I showed signs of being … " Alptraum adds.

"You know," he finishes.

"I have little doubt that you are you," Mariamara says, frowning. "Certainly, it never occurred to us to duplicate that aspect of your … being. If it had been known, rest assured, the Yodhsunala could have spared themselves the whole ordeal, for the Sabaoth would not have pursued such a vessel for himself."

"What is Rikat like as a person? I'd like to get to know him, but, after his declaration I was an assassin sent to kill him, I don't think I can go near the place again," Alptraum says.

"After he calmed down," Mariamara says, "he asserted that it all must have just been some mistake. But I do not assume this to mean that he would be anxious to see you again so soon. For what it is worth, though, the Coalition Tower is not crawling with guards intent upon seeking you out as an 'assassin'."

Alptraum nods and sighs, "Now that I know what he was intended for, I really feel sorry for him. I would like to see him get his freedom, to have a chance at a life outside those walls. He wanted me to switch places with him when I was there, but that's too dangerous and no one would ever fall for it."

Mariamara nods. "Well … maybe once it is announced that YOU are the one … and when it is determined just what that means … then there will be no need for him to be a prisoner any longer. But there is time for that. Now then … I've been curious to hear just how well you play that recorder of yours… "

Alptraum pulls the recorder out from his belt-sash and nods. "Well, it's not as good as my old one. The sound is a bit off from what I'm used to, but I'll give it a try," he answers and raises it to his lips. He closes his eyes and starts to play, starting off with a simple song from Sylvania. Quiet, haunting, and sounding a bit sad. After the song fades off, he beings another, more upbeat song. One he commonly played during their festivals to entertain the crowds. Then, he chooses the final song to play for Mariamara, the one she sang to him all those years ago. He plays it the best he can remember, trying to make each note as perfectly as his memory recalls it being sung to him. At last it too ends, the last note fading away. He looks over to Mariamara again and he smiles, saying, "See, I remember."