It is night time, and through gaps in the clouds, a scattering of stars and the irregular double crescent of the broken twin moons can be seen peering in. They bathe the mostly darkened monastery with an eerie glow, and limn the mountain peaks and clouds. Here, there is no Procession to constantly illuminate the night. Like Abaddon and its solitary red moon, Sheol, the nights go through phases as the twin moons orbit each other and the planet, more or less of their broken surfaces reflecting the light of the unseen sun.

Against this backdrop, the silhouette of a black Khatta in black attire (his habitual preference) can be seen hunched over a work table. The room is not entirely dark, but almost so, the only light sources coming from the ambient glow of the outdoors, and from a few illuminated trinkets on the worktable: a cylinder with a holographic image of Nene fidgeting, some glassy components that refract light strangely, and some instruments with glowing tips.

Sebazhan has goggles covering his eyes, and he holds the little light-tools around different areas of a lump of crystal, causing it to change colors, or different sections to lighten, and then – when the light source is pulled away – the crystal darkens entirely.

So lost is he in this – whether it be work, play, or feline curiosity, or a mixture of the above – that he does not immediately notice when Willow enters the chamber after her day's work.

The Skreek pulls off her jacket and raises an eyebrow at her husband's workings. She's hesitant to abruptly disturb him lest he damage the focus of his attentions. Instead she settles down on a nearby chair and pulls her hair free of its clasp, quietly brushing out the day's tangles as she studies Sebazhan's handiwork.

It looks like the hologram has nothing to do with his present work – It's a translucent cylinder that, if viewed from different angles, shows Nene from different directions, but is also "animated" … largely because the "scanning lasers" that took the image of Nene took time to scan around from different angles, and, being a child, she moved around and fidgeted a bit. Now, the illumination from the window is sufficient to make the image inside faintly visible. The other light coming from the worktable only clouds the image somewhat – It's best viewed in a dark room with only a single light source, and it's only a monochromatic image. As for Sebazhan's actual work, it looks like the tools he's holding are light sources – possibly lasers. Willow has been around the Silent-Ones long enough to learn that, somehow, it is possible to focus a single beam of light to go from one point to another.

Lasers and less focused light are an important element in a lot of Silent-Ones handiwork, either somehow used in "optical circuits" (the concept is a bit unclear), or else just in dazzling displays caused by reflecting, refracting, focusing and splitting light to make images from ordinary light sources.

Willow continues brushing her hair. "When did you have Nene's portrait made?" she asks softly.

Sebazhan starts slightly, but then clicks off the light tool he's holding, and reaches for a desk lamp, illuminating the room with its soft glow at a hand-touch.

Sebazhan lifts the goggles from his eyes, blinking as they adjust to the slightly brighter illumination. "During one of the trips to the city. I kept it wrapped up, since it's fragile … but I decided to take a closer look at it. I'm sorry – I should have shown it to you earlier. There's just been so much going on… "

Sebazhan looks back down to the table, gesturing to the crystal. "I'm trying to learn more about the light-machines of the Silent-Ones. Somehow, the crystals and other materials have channels that light passes through … or focuses or refracts, just like with lenses. They perform functions based upon parts that the lights shine upon. Something like … like a water clock. Only with light instead of water."

"It's all right," Willow responds. "I'm sure than when we get home we'll have all sorts of stories to share with each other about bits we missed. I see. I'd have been disappointed if I found out you're a closet jeweler and never made me anything sparkly."

Sebazhan rubs his head, evidently struggling to explain himself. "I think I understand the concepts. After all, this touches upon Shadow Magic. In fact … I was thinking that maybe my shadow magic could be useful. If the machines of the Silent-Ones – in that palace – rely upon lights … then maybe I could interfere with that." He looks up to Willow. "I think I'm on to something here. If I can get to a point where I'm more confident about how I can interact with this, I want to volunteer to go with the first ones attacking the palace, if it comes to that. I think that Light-of-Star is all too confident that he's the only one who knows how to use these crystals. I don't think he understands what I am … maybe not even what these crystals can do." He lets out a long sigh, slumping back in his chair.

"I … I almost wish I could do over our little adventure there in the palace. Everything was an unknown. I didn't know when someone would come to check up on me. But you did such a wonderful job of delaying our 'tour guide'! I could have found the time to cast another spell, I'm certain of it. I could have experimented with the crystals more, learned how they work … and how to make them not work," Sebazhan says, massaging his temples.

"Hindsight," he mumbles. "There are just so many unknowns."

Willow pulls herself up and folds her arms around Sebazhan's neck, resting her hands on his shoulders. "I'm going with you. And none of this grumping about the past. We had to be cautious. I'd have loved a chance to poke through more of those doors myself, but we didn't have the time. Our first trip gave us the map, so to speak."

Sebazhan nods, and lifts a hand to touch one of those on his shoulder, rubbing it absently. "True. I just have to confess … I'm a bit out of sorts here. This should be my area of expertise. And I think I just might be able to contribute something … but I can't just sit down and inscribe a magic circle and find the answers I want. I made it on Abaddon because … ," he smiles, "… everything was new, there were plenty of distractions, and we weren't fighting for our lives – for our land, for our world." His expression sobers. "For so long, I've relied upon magic. It's been my life. I want to come up with some wondrous miracle to impress you and solve our problems and frustrate Light-of-Star to no end."

"I can't deny that I've had little fantasies of having you use a fancy blot spell to make me look like a silhouetted six-armed cheetah goddess and let me run around the cathedral telling folks how much of a fibber Light-of-Star is." She shrugs. "But I think we need to make this look as un-malicious as possible. A humiliated enemy usually will yank his own tail out by the roots to get revenge, but if we just focus on doing what we need to do and making ourselves out to be the good guys focused only on revealing the truth, then I think we might accomplish a lot more. Er … if that makes any sense at all."

Sebazhan nods. "Of course. No need to add insult to injury. And, of course, if you ran around as a silhouetted six-armed cheetah, then when the word got out about what actually happened, it might make everything you said suspect. Never mind the whole truth. I've seen it happen many times – someone makes a compelling case, but he is too enthusiastic. He hears that his enemy is also guilty of this charge and that charge. It turns out that his enemy is guilty of no such thing, the enemy proves this in front of the people … and all they remember is that the enemy was accused and proven not guilty … and a few flimsy excuses get thrown at the other charges, to quell any other concerns. One has to be careful. We've got the truth on our side here."

Sebazhan drums his fingers on his chin. "In any case … I'm concerned that if we storm the palace, the people there might take drastic measures to make sure that the truth isn't revealed to the public. Perhaps they will set the whole complex afire … or I'm certain they have some way of disposing of any incriminating evidence in a more spectacular way. I'm willing to bet, though, that they'll probably rely on these light-machines to do part of the job. I might be able to use Shadow Magic – from that crystal focus – to wreak havoc with their light-machines elsewhere in that palace. The trick would be to wreak havoc in a useful way."

The Skreek plants her chin on the top of Sebazhan's head and looks down at his workbench. "I'm just curious… Have you found any link between the way they use the crystals to send messages, and how the focus works? One way I see to mess them up would be to fudge up their communications so they don't know what's going on."

Sebazhan nods. "There may be something to that. But the important thing is that if I can reach the crystal, I can use it in order to cast spells. From there, I can use Shadow Magic to interfere with whatever light-machines I can reach. And as I understand it, most likely they have these light-cables running all through the palace." He gestures to some sample cables lying on his worktable.

"Normally, the sorts of things I should be able to do would not be a concern for them. Magic can ignore such trivialities as the fact that these cables are nicely sealed, and there shouldn't be a way for someone to sort between all the little signals rushing through them, all the beams of light. So, I doubt they would have much of a defense against this sort of an attack," Sebazhan says, hopefully. "In any case, I am willing to take the chance."

Willow drums her fingers on the Khatta's shoulder. "Do you know if their weapons also require the use of light? It might help make things a bit more clean if we can keep their guns from shooting."

Sebazhan nods. "Indirectly. Some of their more sophisticated weapons make use of light to help the user better aim at the target … though they fire little projectiles of metal, not bursts of some sort of energy. I realize that it looks as if their weapons shoot little bolts of light, but some of these bolts just happen to glow as they launch. Part of this is caused by the chemicals in the bolts, which make a small explosion on impact, in order to bypass armor. The side effect is that it is easier to correct your aim if you can see where your attacks are flying."

"I believe that I may be able to temporarily frustrate their weapons," Sebazhan says. "If I can blot out the light-machines in their weapons, the weapons will not fire. However, as I understand it, most of these weapons can be shifted so that they can fire without the help of these light-machines … but it would take a moment for them to realize the problem, I'm hoping, and then to make the change."

"Careful, Blink, these folks might turn you into a general if you do too good a job." Willow smirks. "What about the doors?"

Sebazhan sighs. "I'll be a general who will only be useful so long as I hang around that nice little purple crystal. I don't think I can simply lift that up and move it about. There's something about all of the crystals, joined together, that allows them to function. More crystals might expand the area of effect of magic. Ahem. Anyroad, about the doors … the doors function by somehow being able to tell whose hand it is that presses the surface, or else they can be opened remotely. I believe I can do something about that, too … but the trouble is, while I'm certain I can be useful in helping in several different ways, I could have my hands full pretty quickly."

"Furthermore," Sebazhan adds, "I'll need to stay in the Crystal Cathedral to cast spells. I'm not good enough to hold multiple spells and fire them off as we need them. I'll need to deal with problems remotely. I'm hoping I can learn how those 'cameras' work. Maybe I can use that to my advantage. Or maybe the Archon can supply me with some non-magical means of looking through the eyes of the palace. I understand that he may be able to acquire a few useful little 'toys' for me in that regard, if I can get in there without interference."

The gray rat nods, drumming her chin on Sebazhan's head. "Then we need to decide what's important. Perhaps opening them shouldn't be our goal … but instead we need to keep them shut so other people can't go in there and trash it all once the bolts start to fly." She splays her ears. "Remember the shadow-plays we used to put on for Nene? I'd play a song and you'd put shapes in the air to tell the story of the music? Perhaps instead of trying to interfere with their weapons, we just give them something harmless to shoot at."

Sebazhan raises his eyebrows. "That's an idea. Squads of shadows, rushing about the palace. I wouldn't need to see exactly where they're going. They could just frighten and confuse the defenders."

"Wherever you go, I'm sticking with you. Once someone catches wind that the magic might be coming from you, I can bet that you'll be a target. I'm not going to leave you out in the open like that." She kneels down next to the table and looks at the little image of Nene. "I've been doing a bit of target practice in my spare time with the weapons these folks use. I think I can hold my own, although I'm not sure how I'll manage armor."

Sebazhan smiles faintly. "With you defending me, I don't see how I could feel any safer." He kisses one of the Skreek's hands.

Willow pats Sebazhan's chin. "I'm hoping Light-of-Star won't have a garrison there, although we can bet that his acolytes will probably be quick to take up arms and start blasting people. It wouldn't surprise me if he's going to send a mob of untrained shooters at us just to make us look like butchers. I wonder if they have anything here akin to darts or something that can take a person down without killing them… "

Sebazhan shakes his head. "That, I do not know. I wouldn't be surprised. They seem to have many more sophisticated weapons to use than bolts and arrows."

The gray rat braces her hands on the Khatta's shoulders and peers down at the table. "So tell me what you've done with the light in the crystals here?" She glances at the picture of the kitten again. "And does it work like the portrait?"

Sebazhan says, "I haven't really done anything, per se. I've just been exploring how this works… " He reaches over and dims out the work lamp, and puts his goggles back on. He pulls out some clamps and sets them on stands, then positions little light-rods on the stands, pointing at the crystal from different directions. The crystal is mounted on a swiveling base, and Sebazhan very carefully readjusts the crystal, turning on the light-pointers, until the crystal is filled with several traces of light running through it.

"This is an example of a piece of a 'light-machine'. It doesn't do anything on its own. It's a … ah … 'junction'." He sticks a finger in front of one light, then another, blocking off individual beams, and altering the patterns inside the crystal.

He then puts a lens in front of one of the beams, altering its course. This has still more effects. "I'm not really accomplishing anything here. I'm just observing how the beams interact … so that I can use Shadow Magic to selectively block beams of light, hopefully to cause some desirable effects … or to block off channels of communication entirely."

The Skreek shakes her head. "I'm afraid it makes about as much sense to me as magic. I'm not much of a scholar or a scientist." She rubs her nose. "Would it help if I went to see if the Archon had someone on hand that might explain it better, or are you doing all right on your own?"

Sebazhan smiles. "I've been pestering the monks with questions like … ah … " He glances at the hologram, and smiles a little more. "Well, I've been learning quite a lot. I just wanted to experiment a bit on my own before I went to sleep. Don't worry. I will get some sleep. This is … this is as if I've regained some of my magic back, although only in a small, weak way. It's … it's comforting for me, I suppose you could say." His smile turns to a smirk. "I'm not too fond of being confused by everything. It's reassuring to me when I can finally grasp something for a change."

His tail twitches back and forth, as he leans forward, watching a point of light trace back and forth across the worktable, projected from the crystal, but its movements are controlled by Sebazhan's moving of one of the light-pointers off to one side.

Willow laughs and pulls back so she won't be shaking her husband's shoulders while he works. "Do you know where Methuselah is now? I think I should leave you some time to yourself while I see what the Archon and the others think about strategy."

Sebazhan frowns, and takes the goggles back off, turning off his work for now. "I hear that he's not doing well. He's … ," he points up, "up there somewhere. Receiving medical attention." He sighs. "I know that's not really news at this point, but I'm given the impression that things are just getting worse, not better."

The Skreek bites her lip. "I should try to see him all the more then, if I can get a chance. I … never got a chance to thank him for all the trouble he went through for us."

Sebazhan nods, and sets the pointer down. "Should I come along, too? I want to thank him as well … but I don't want to crowd you out. This has really been your … adventure, not mine." He reaches up, scratching behind his left ear.

Willow sighs. "I think I've been making these trips 'my' adventure all too often and forgetting that I've got a partner. If I had you along during the interviews, Light-of-Star probably never would have been able to use his … whatever it is he used on me." She clears her throat. "In other words, yes. I would like you to come along very much."

Sebazhan nods, and gets up, placing a hand on Willow's shoulder this time. "Yes, but if I had been along, I might have distracted from the interviews. There are women in positions of authority here, but it is still mostly a patriarchal culture." He sighs. "But I definitely don't want to leave you alone when you don't want to be. I'm concerned. Especially about this 'Bride'. I don't understand what all is behind this … but I sense that it is bringing up … bad memories. If there's anything I can do to help you through this, please, don't hesitate to ask."

The Skreek's ears flatten. "Easier said than done. I don't know if I'm making a fantasy up in my head, or if I've got a right to be concerned. I don't even know how I'm going to react when I find out… although I'm worried that it might not be in a very positive light. I won't ask for it to be killed, but I'm not going to want to look at it." She stoops down to pick up her discarded jacket and starts to pull it on again, wrestling with the cloth as though she were almost fighting something.

Sebazhan helps Willow with the jacket. "I know. I know. If I knew how to do it, I think I would just do it, not ask. And I'd be surprised if you could tell me exactly what to do. This is not one of my strong points. But, for what it's worth, I am here for you."

Willow lets out her breath slowly and nods. "It'll be enough. I've screamed at Dagh, plunged off of speeding trains, been inside vanishing bookstores, and even died once in my own way. I might be a wreck for a little while, but I'll save it for a time when I can be a wreck and not risk the plan. I'll be alright."

Sebazhan gently, a little awkwardly, gives Willow's shoulders a hug. "That you have." He then reaches for an overcoat that he's acquired during one of the shopping trips, and slips it on.

The gray rat nudges herself under one of Sebazhan's shoulders and grips his arm. "I'm ready whenever you are. Hopefully we can catch a shuttle."

---

The shuttle trip to orbit is much like the last one … except that this time Sebazhan and Willow aren't sharing the compartment with four Archon candidates. Once again, they are subjected to the awkward sensations of first being jammed back into their seats, then floating weightless, then being put through the spin cycle as the shuttle matches rotation with the station serving as the new Archon's home in the heavens above Zion.

Sebazhan and Willow are led to the outer ring, much like their visit to the Orbital Palace of Divine Light, except that there are no scantily-clad cheetah gods and goddesses prancing about in statue form, nor any glassy-eyed, wooden-smile acolytes … nor any little mental strangeness.

At last, they reach the audience hall of the Archon. It, like so much of the station, is devoid of traffic. For all anyone knows, the Archon is in bad health, or he's off traveling, or maybe he's doing something about that strange contest. Word is still secret about the anointing of a new Archon.

When they find him, the new Archon is standing on what looks to be a balcony looking down upon a landscape of stars that slowly drift by with the rotation of the station. He looks up and smiles when he sees his guests. "Your arrival is a blessing," he signs.

"Peaceful. Fitting in a way," Willow bows to the Archon. "I heard Methuselah was slipping. I wanted to say my farewells and give him my thanks before he slipped too far and I might lose my chance."

Sebazhan bows alongside Willow.

The Archon's smile dims a moment. "A summons was about to be put out for you, but when it was learned that you were already on your way here, it was decided that it was not worth the risk of transmitting you a message en route." His expression sobers entirely. "I am glad you are here in time. My predecessor is not long for this realm. He wished to see you before… " He does not finish the sign, but instead starts toward a platform, pulling out a hand to gesture "this way" as he makes long and quick strides, his ornament-weighted robes swinging and rocking as he moves.

The rat's ears droop and she rushes after the Archon, all ceremony and courtesy forgotten in place of making it to Methuselah's chambers in time.

As the Archon and his guests step on the platform, spires rise from the floor, extending and grouping together to form a railing around the disc … and then it descends into the floor. After passing a couple of landings, it stops on another level, where the railings withdraw and sink down into the rim of the disc, and fully armored and robed members of the Holy Guard stand at attention on each side of a peaked portal. A robed attendant, waiting by the side, hastens to open the doors, then backs away, bowing low.

Through the doorway, a monstrous collection of tubes and pieces of strange machinery dwarf the frail cheetah reposing on a bed. Even in a sickbed, and even though he has passed the mantle of leadership on to a new Archon, the one once known as Methuselah is still adorned in raiment, though humble compared to his usual robes of office.

The present Archon strides in first, and drops to one knee. Methuselah moves his head slightly, and though his face is obscured with a translucent mask covering his muzzle, and several tubes leading to it … he can be seen to smile weakly as he sees Willow, and he tries to move a hand.

"What … what are all of those things stuck all around him?" Willow points a shaky finger at the machines, her voice fading as the Archon turns to look at her. She kneels as well and then hesitantly moves towards the frail cheetah.

Sebazhan whispers the obvious, "More machines. I think they … ," but he lets that trail off, as his tone suggests that the best he can really do is just to venture a guess.

The former Archon manages to move his hand just enough to slowly curl it, then uncurl it, then curl it again, in a weak "approach" gesture. His body trembles with the effort. The machines about him make wheezing noises, as if amplifying the sounds of his fragile breaths.

Wincing in quiet sympathy, the Skreek moves to kneel at the Archon's side and takes his hand. "I'm glad I got to see you again, but I wish I could do something to help you. You've done so much for me. I don't know how I could possibly ever sum into words how grateful I am for everything."

The cheetah meets Willow's eyes. His hand tries to grasp hers, but the grip is very weak, and she can feel trembles passing through his body. His face crinkles into a smile, and he slowly nods.

Willow sniffs and glances over her shoulder at the new Archon and Sebazhan. "All I can do is swear that I'll do my best to make sure that your empire doesn't fall. Your successor has a good heart and I know your people will easily love him. He's also got two great teachers to help him… and before that, he had the greatest teacher anyone could hope to have." She rubs her eye. "You put so much trust in me when I was just a hot-headed stranger. I'm grateful for that as well."

Methuselah holds Willow's gaze a moment longer, still smiling. Then, the new Archon rises, moving so he can better see his predecessor, concern gripping his features. Methuselah glances upward, directing his smile to the new Archon as well, and he nods slightly, a look of approval, contentment on his face, as his eyes drift to gaze somewhere above … and then the grip on Willow's hand weakens noticeably. The machines let out a long rushing sound, like the collective sigh of a gathered crowd.

"Goodbye, Methuselah." Willow gently kisses the aged cheetah's hand. "Thank you." Words rush through her mind, things to say or more little speeches to make. But the words that come out are all that truly needs to be said.

The silence following the rushing noise lasts for only an fragment of time, and then the cheetah attendants start dashing about, fighting with their machines and control panels, frantically exchanging signs, while monks and scribes at the edges of the room sign prayers to the Star. Methuselah seems an oasis of peace in the midst of the confusion, gazing upward and beyond.

The new Archon has no signs to make, other than the sign of the Star upon his chest … and then, after a pause, he reaches up, and with a gentle, reverent sweep of his fingers … brushes the eyelids of his predecessor closed.

The Skreek places the cheetah's hand back at his side. She folds her own hands behind her back and steps back out of the way of the flurry. ( My first goodbye. He looked so peaceful… )

Sebazhan steps up, taking Willow's hand, and holds it gently.

The Archon backs away, leaving the monks to their prayers, and the attendants to their vain but obligatory attempts to do the impossible. He nods to Willow. Although his eyes are not wet, his expression still betrays the heaviness he feels at seeing his master and mentor go, as he takes much slower strides back to the platform.

Willow's eyes are moist, but she's not streaming with tears. She grips Sebazhan's hand and kisses his shoulder as she follows after the new Archon.