Alptraum manages to find the Yodhrinala; they haven't completely fled the hospice, since, with a number of patients that cannot be easily moved, and the possibility that they haven't been discovered after all, they've opted not to needlessly jeopardize lives. Still, given the current state of affairs, it looks as if several of the patients have been relocated anyway – or else they simply fled, not willing to take any chances.
They are grateful enough for the help Alptraum provided, and agree to look after Skekos for a while – though with some bewilderment and reservations when they see just what strange manner of creature he is.
That frees up Alptraum to fly on toward the Coalition Tower. On the way, he can see bonfires atop the Tower of Babel, illuminating a ring of red-and-white pennants now flying from its top. Half of the flags show the red Star-and-Anchor of the Temple on a field of white. The other half show a variant red "Anchor" on a field of red. There is some unrest: fires burn, and Alptraum can hear screams and shouts, breaking wood, chitin and glass, but for the most part it looks like the new ownership of the tower faces little serious contest.
Far to the west, on the other side of the Wound, Alptraum can make out the white air-barge of Sunala, making its way toward the Coalition Tower, though Alptraum has, at this point, a very considerable gain on it (and he would have to cross the Wound to trace back to reach it). Another airship, he's seen before – a patrol craft, drawn by a couple of pteras tonight, in the service of the Yodhrephath. (He's been given to understand that it is unwise to approach the craft without invitation, as an Air Mage on board the vessel regularly keeps Lightning Storm spells charged to deal with unwanted guests.) Witch-lights glow on Mount Zakaro. A wildfire rages on Mount Blakat.
Alptraum frowns as he looks at the tower and shakes his head, muttering, "It just gets worse." After taking a moment more to access the situation, Alptraum decides to not cross the wound, nor bother the Yodhrepath. He shifts his wings slightly and arcs toward the Coalition tower, figuring he can meet up with them there. He doesn't push his flight, maintaining a slow and steady pace to avoid straining himself too much just yet.
In the distance, he can barely make out some shadows in front of some fire-lights atop the Coalition Tower. It looks like a party of fliers has landed. Could that be the Yodhgorphat? (They did seem to be flying fairly slowly, given their lack of exercise, and having to carry Cessteria along.) It's too far away to be certain one way or the other.
Alptraum hmms, and makes his way toward them. He seems to at least be on talking terms with the Yodhgorphat and probably safe.
As Alptraum continues to fly, he sees that there's some activity on the roof of the Coalition Tower, though he's still far enough away not to be able to see the whole of it. Still, he can get the general gist of it: There are shadowy figures moving around, active, chaotic. Nets are thrown. He sees the glint of metal or chitin blades. He sees a silhouetted body relieved of its head.
Alptraum pulls his arms back and draws out his daggers. He drops his wings slightly to bring himself low and continues to approach, albeit much slower and more cautiously. "What is going on here? This is insane!" he thinks as his approach adjusts to a circling approach, so he can bank away quickly if need be.
Blades continue to flash. Screams reach Alptraum's ears. In the torch-light, he catches sight of a green-furred Eeee that pulls free from one of the nets … only to be speared in the back by an armored Vartan. He can only see bits and pieces of the battle, given that a great many of the landing lights are guttered out on top of the Tower, but what he can see is very bloody, and distinctly one-sided.
Alptraum's eyes widen and he stammers, "Oh no … Phlagaea. No… " His hands tighten around his dagger hilts and he circles more, straining eyes and ears to try and find her.
"Up there!" someone shouts, and it doesn't sound like an Eeee voice. He can pinpoint the owner of the voice somewhere in the shadows, and he's fairly sure he just heard the ratchet of a crossbow being reloaded from that general direction.
And … right there. It's not that he's actually able to see her, as shrouded as she is in the darkness, but something familiar about a cry, a hunch, a feeling deep within his gut: down there, in that net, Phlagaea is caught, and there's someone poised over her, about to deal a killing blow.
"Nooo!" Alptraum screams and banks hard toward the figure. He pounds his wings hard and draws his daggers up. With narrowing eyes he decides that if he can make it in time, he's going to ram that figure off the tower.
The wind drives out the sounds of battle from Alptraum's ears, and for a time he is blind, unable to see or sound out his target – so fast is his descent! – but his memory proves able, as does his aim. A canine warrior brings down his chitin blade, confident in an easy kill of a despised heretic … but a plummeting juggernaut slams into him. Two daggers find his ribs and neck, and the sheer force of the attack sends him stumbling over the inadequate railing that is there more as warning than actual protection against unfortunate falls. With a choked scream, the Gallee plummets the unfathomable distance down all the way from the top of the Coalition Tower to the streets below … with the only visible things to block his fall, should he encounter them, being several upward-pointing, very sharp-looking stony spires.
A cold smile creeps across Alptraum's face; the death cry of the Gallee welcome to his ears. Momentum still moving him forward, his wings snap close and he executes a roll, tucking tightly, then coming up a moment later into a crouching position and bringing his daggers back to the fore. One dagger is held low, the other at chest level and he pauses briefly to survey the scene and pinpoint enemies – especially ones with projectile weapons.
A bolt whips past Alptraum's head. Yes, projectile weapons are most certainly in use. As he's able to take in his surroundings, he can see that he's distinctly outnumbered. As fabulous as his entry was into the fray, if he tries to take on four Vartans, four more canines of various breeds, and possibly others that he hasn't noticed yet, his best bet is probably to die a heroic death. As it is, the battle looks to be mostly over. Cessteria's palanquin is broken to pieces, and her bloody body lies sprawled over it. An armored and cowled warrior stands next to this palanquin, holding a large and wicked-looking axe that looks very much like the sort of weapon a Yodhrephath might wield, though this is certainly not an Eeee. A pin is visible on the stranger's cloak – it looks like a stylized battleaxe head, joined with the Star and Anchor of the Temple.
Alptraum growls, but decides he's not got a chance to fight them. Instead, he works frantically at the net holding Phlagaea. "Leap off the Tower if I get you free and drop for a short ways, then spread wing and fly – It'll make you harder to hit. We have to warn the others," Alptraum says quickly.
"Alptraum?" Phlagaea squeaks out, sounding disoriented, as Alptraum rips the net apart with the blade of his dagger and good application of brute force and determination. He can smell blood on her; if she escapes, it won't be unscathed. "Alptraum … High Priestess Cessteria … You must save her!"
"It's too late for her. You're the last," Alptraum says. "We have to get out of here," he then adds and tries to pull the Yodhgorphat to her feet.
"You are interfering with the Execution of Temple Law!" the large warrior bellows in Rephidim Standard. "Surrender, or you will be summarily executed for your interference!" By the movements of the other warriors, it looks like they're already quite prepared to do that summary execution bit, regardless of Alptraum's reaction. He manages to pull Phlagaea to her feet. Her hair is matted with blood, and her bandages hang from her head in torn shreds. "Nooooo!" she wails. "No, it can't be! Alptraum, make them live again! Make a miracle! They can't die! It's not possible!" she shrieks.
"If I had any powers I'd make sure these people would pay for their actions," Alptraum growls, wishing he could do that right about now, and pulls Phlagaea toward the edge of the Tower. "Execution of wholesale slaughter, you mean!" Alptraum screams, "Butchering people from the shadows – cowards!"
A bolt barely misses Alptraum – and Phlagaea. "Hold still," one of the Vartans laughs. "And keep talkings sos I can hear yas!" But while a couple more bolts shoot past, Alptraum still manages to make it to the edge – since, after all, he wasn't far from it in the first place, to the chagrin of a certain Gallee.
"They're going to kill us all," Phlagaea says, somewhat slurred. "Execution for crimes against the Temple. They knew we were coming."
"Now listen Phlagaea, focus. We're going to fall – let it for about three seconds, then spread your wings and take flight. I need you to help warn the others. We have to warn the others. There's still time," Alptraum says firmly. He then takes Phlagaea's hand firmly in his, then falls backwards and over the edge. "Three seconds, Traum. You can do this," he thinks quickly as he falls.
And fall they do. One … two … three.
Something whistles past. Alptraum feels Phlagaea's hand pull free from his. But he also sees her wings snap out. She's conscious – she's flying.
Alptraum rolls in the air and his wings snap wide, using the acceleration he gained going down to now rocket away from the tower. He scans the skies, trying to locate the Yodhsunala and Yodhrepath ships.
In the distance, Alptraum sees a rider on a rakhtor cut through three Eeee in mid-air, with almost impossible ease, leaving their lifeless bodies to fall below. Whatever fight is going on over there, Alptraum hasn't a hope to survive against odds like that. But he also sights the white barge of Sunala, making its way across the Wound. The Yodhrephath patrol ship approaches as well, on just this side of the Wound, and making its final approach to the Coalition Tower. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a flash of green, as Phlagaea turns and disappears around one of the towers. (At least she's not an easy shot from the tower now.)
Alptraum makes his way toward the closest ship, the Yodhrepath patrol ship. "Turn around!" Alptraum screams. "It's a trap!"
Alptraum can feel the hair stand up on the back of his neck, and a curious tingle down the back of his spine. An Eeee warrior shouts from the deck, leaning over the side, "Who are you? What trap?"
"Alptraum bar Reisender, I stay at Mount Sunala," Alptraum calls back. "The invaders are laying in wait in the shadows atop the Coalition Tower! They're already killed nearly all the Yodhgorphat." Alptraum tries to hold a good distance from the ship, remembering the magic that usually protects it.
"Bar Reisend – TURN ABOUT!" the man shouts, and he disappears from view, though Alptraum can see several other warriors rushing to position. Behind him, Alptraum hears a couple of rakhtor cries. Perhaps the attackers have been flushed from their hiding place, since someone has escaped to warn others of imminent ambush. Judging from the sounds of approach, it would seem that they aren't opting to flee for safety, however.
Alptraum doesn't wait to find out just what is going on behind him. He banks again, then pushes his wing-muscles hard and heads toward the Yodhsunala barge."
As Alptraum wings past, he feels a tingle run down his spine, sees a flash of light reflected off the nearby buildings, and hears a thunderclap behind him. Something is quite probably very dead right now. Ahead is the barge of Sunala, flanked by armed riders of white-plumed rakhtors. The white rakhtors' riders evidently detect Alptraum's approach, as one of them moves to intercept him, and the other three fall into a defensive formation.
Alptraum quickly scans over the riders, trying to determine if they're with the invaders or on his side.
The white rakhtors sport the sign of Sunala – white, perhaps, as the Babelite color of death. The rider on the approaching rakhtor sails forward, then calls out, "Identify yourself or die!"
"Alptraum bar Reisender," Alptraum calls out. "You are all in danger, a trap lies ahead. They've already killed most of the Yodhgorphat. You have to turn back!"
"Alptraum!" cries out the rider, as she circles about for a better look. "A trap? What sort of treachery is this?" But without waiting for an answer, she raises a horn to her lips and blows it three times at measured intervals to the barge, then a fourth long blow. Answering calls come from the other rakhtors, as they change into a new formation, and the barge starts to make a wide turn.
"Some group claiming to be from the Rephidim Temple," Alptraum says, arcing his flight to take up a position alongside. "They were in the shadows and when the Yodhgorphat landed – they slaughtered them and enjoyed doing it. The Yodhgorphat didn't have a chance. I got one free – but the others were already dead." Alptraum then looks around, searching for other airships form perhaps the rest of the temples that he may need to warn.
None others are visible. Perhaps the others have not taken off yet … or opted to travel by less visible means than airship. The wildfire on Mount Blakat continues to rage, out of control. The Yodhrephath airship is engaged in battle with some attacking rakhtors.
"I'm going to stay out here for a bit and make sure none of the other temples start on the trek to the Tower. Do any of you have a crossbow I can borrow? Maybe I can make some small dent in the invaders' forces while scouting," Alptraum says.
"Fly to the barge!" the rider shouts. "I can't spare mine with enemies this close!" Indeed, it looks like one of the enemy rakhtors is bold enough to try making an approach on the barge.
Alptraum flies to the barge and lands on its surface. Again, his hands go too his daggers, preparing to defend the barge if others attack.
Several Yodhsunala let out startled cries at Alptraum's sudden appearance, and they part way as Sunala steps through a curtained enclosure to face him. "It is true, then," she says, with a tone of finality, as she steps up toward him, her hands hidden in folded sleeves. "We are betrayed."
"First they took the Tower of Babel, then they set a trap at the Tower of the Coalition to get all of you," Alptraum says, turning to look at Sunala. "I've done what I could, but it hasn't been enough," he then adds quietly. "I'm sorry."
"It is enough," Sunala says, her eyes looking wearily toward the battle between the patrol ship and the attacking rakhtor-riders. The Yodhsunalas' own white fliers move to intercept the one that approached, and it tries to move in some sort of evasive flight, perhaps to trick them, but the Yodhsunala prove to be better fliers than that. There is a short exchange, and the rider of the attacking rakhtor is knocked free, to plummet screaming toward the Wound below. "Change is inevitable."
"But, it shouldn't have to come at such a price," Alptraum replies and looks toward the deck. "I should have been able to do something to save them."
"There is no goddess of foresight," Sunala says. "For such to come to be, even Barada could not have known. Do not be morose. I will not permit it. We see what has happened, and we learn. We will leave Babel. Death will not come to all the Eeee this day. We will build a new city elsewhere."
"We can't leave our people to suffer, can we?" Alptraum says, walking to the deck railing and placing a clawed hand upon it. "It's just that … I came to help them, to help my people survive. I … forgive me. I shouldn't say anymore. I would like to try and find Phlagaea, plus a few others, before leaving."
"Go then," Sunala says. "Do what you must, while there is yet time." Though she speaks in cold, stony tones, her eyes betray a sadness that only Alptraum sees, for her back is to all others.
Alptraum nods quietly. "I will return to you soon, Sunala," he replies and spreads his wings. Once again, Alptraum takes flight, gliding downward toward the city, back in the direction Phlagaea went. "I have to find her, Autumn, and the Cenestas if I can – to say goodbye, at least," he thinks.
With the distraction presented by another lightning blast and fierce opposition presented by the Yodhsunala and Yodhrephath – who appear to be coordinating their efforts to present a more effective defense – Alptraum manages to make it past the combat without drawing any undue attention to himself. As he flies along, he passes over a roadway, where a carriage lies overturned on its side. He sees an Eeee body sprawled on the carriage, and three prone Drokars. It looks like the mayhem has not been restricted to just the Towers.
Alptraum's expression grows ever more sad as he looks over the carnage. He looks over the sprawled body, trying to see if by some slim chance, it was someone he knew.
It's an Eeee girl, her neck twisted wrongly to one side. Just within the carriage, Alptraum sees a glint of jewelry, and sees what he thinks to be another Eeee body of a woman … though if he saw correctly, she seems to be missing anything where her head should be. No … it's not anyone he recognizes, not from this distance.
Alptraum just shakes his head, then wipes his eyes. He continues on, to try and find those he can.
Time passes, as Alptraum continues his search. Trumpets sound in the distance, and he can hear voices shouting from rooftops, though he can't make out what's being said from here, with the wind of flight whistling in his ears. At last, he sees an Eeee who is conspicuously green and bandage-wrapped. At this point, there aren't likely to be very many people who fit that description. She's standing on a roadway, amidst signs of carnage.
Alptraum lands some distance away and starts walking toward her. "Phlagaea?" he calls out gently, not wanting to shock her any further.
"Alptraum… " Phlagaea seems in a daze, clutching a bloodied robe that bears some intricate sigils on it. "Is that your voice … or another ghost? Please don't be dead. Please don't… " Her eyes look very haunted, and do not catch Alptraum's approach.
Alptraum moves close to Phlagaea, then gently puts a hand upon her shoulder. "I'm here. I made it," he says quietly. He then slowly pulls Phlagaea against him and hugs her lightly, saying, "You're going to be all right."
The Eeee lets go of everything she's been trying to keep bottled up inside, as her shoulders shake in broken sobs, and she pushes her mouth against Alptraum's shoulder, using his chest to muffle her screams. She drops the tattered robe, instead tightly clutching the folds of his vest as if desperate for something solid to hold onto that hasn't yet been tainted by death.
Alptraum doesn't say anything for some time, he just holds her lightly. "I … ," he starts to say, then stops, unsure. Then after a moment, he returns to simply holding her and letting her cry. "There's nothing you can say to ease her pain, Traum. Just … be there," he decides.
Although Phlagaea might have preferred to stand there for some small eternity, the peril of their situation is still evident. With some reservations, Alptraum opts to send Phlagaea on alone to Mount Sunala to meet up with the Yodhsunala, in the hopes that they'll put aside any inter-temple rivalries and allow her to go along. Phlagaea is reluctant to part ways, but she acknowledges that a lone flier is probably more likely to avoid attention, heading to the temple, than a couple of fliers heading right into the thick of things. And so they part ways. Alptraum makes his way back to the Hospice of Rinala, where the Yodhrinala are desperately tending to the wounded as they can. A great many rough-looking Eeee that look like the sort who would on any other night be trying to mug lone travelers for spare change or food are instead serving as what passes for guards for the hospice. Even the gangs respect the valuable service the priestesses provide.
Autumn-Storm looks up from where she's helping a priestess bandage an Eeee man's wounds. Both her hands are too busy to sign, but she smiles genuinely – if tiredly – when she sees Alptraum return.
Alptraum tries to return a weak smile, then pauses to rest a moment against the wall. "It was a trap," Alptraum says weakly, "Rephidim set a trap to kill us. It's a nightmare out there." He shakes his head slowly, adding, "They almost got me. They nearly killed my friend, Phlagaea."
Autumn-Storm's smile quickly fades. She gives Alptraum a worried look, but the nurse next to her says, "Please watch what you're doing!" Autumn-Storm's ears duck, and she gives Alptraum an apologetic frown, then focuses on the bandaging again.
"Alptraum?" comes a voice from across the makeshift ward. "Is that you?" It takes a moment for Alptraum to place the voice in the confusion, but then – Mariamara. As he turns to look, he sees a bundled Eeee woman, though the disguise does not hide from him her identity what with the voice to help him out.
Alptraum looks up, blinking. "Yes, it's me – are you okay," he replies. "What happened?"
"I took Rikat and fled the Tower," she says, in a quieter voice, "for fear that he might be slain with all this treachery abounding. But on our way out … oh … dear Rikat, he tried to protect me. He … they say he'll be just fine … but … I should have been more careful. This shouldn't have happened!"
"What happened? Who started this?" Alptraum asks, moving over to Mariamara and sitting down again. "Why would they slay him? What is going on?"
"I don't know why they would," Mariamara says. "I don't know who can be trusted anymore. One of the General's most trusted lieutenants turned against him, and perhaps a fourth of the Guardians of the Tower turned coat. They've driven off the General, and taken the Tower of Babel. Vizier Thath called an emergency session of the Coalition, and sent out messengers … and then the Templars arrived."
"And slaughtered the Yodhgorphat. I got one away, but I couldn't help the others. It was too late," Alptraum replies and shakes his head. "I think most are evacuating Babel now. I think we've lost our city," Alptraum adds and shakes his head. "Some savior I turned out to be. I return, the city falls."
Mariamara looks down. "Perhaps it is the wrath of Sunala for my faithlessness. Alptraum … I … I never had the courage to come back … and tell you the rest of the story."
"I'm not who they think, am I?" Alptraum asks softly.
Tears stream down Mariamara's cheeks. "I had to believe in you. I had to. To entertain the other possibility … such blasphemy… It was unbearable. I … lied to myself all these years. I told myself that Sunala had intervened, had proven the miraculous nature of your birth … but when you told me that you had spared my life, I realized that, as gifted as you may be with magic … I do not have Sunala's blessing. I must therefore entertain the dark truth for what it is. Alptraum … your father … did the unthinkable … and I … I … " She chokes on the words. "I helped him!"
Alptraum looks up. "My father? Who was my father?" Alptraum asks, then adds, "And I don't know if I spared your life. If I had any powers I should have been able to stop this! It was my own hopeful foolishness that misread that as me probably saving you, Mariamara."
Mariamara seems totally oblivious to the fact that they're discussing such matters in front of total strangers. Granted, many of them are distracted, but right about now, such sensitive issues being discussed might make a dark secluded corner appear very attractive right about now. (There are plenty of those in this old building, at the very least.) Heedless, Mariamara continues, in a wavering voice, "I tended the Srinala faithfully. I was especially gifted, I thought, in working the ritual to make her speak with the voice of the dead. She seemed to come more to life in my care than any Srinala I had heard of. She would sometimes actually sit up on her crypt, and look about, to impart upon the pilgrims messages from their ancestors, their loved ones. I … I think I was even proud… "
Alptraum starts to say something, then stops to let Mariamara continue her tale.
"… I think we'd better find someplace else to talk," Alptraum then says suddenly, realizing how exposed they are.
Mariamara nods at this, her ears flushing, and leads Alptraum to another room – one of the many chambers that, at present, is not being utilized. She closes the door, and checks it, then continues, "A man came to me. A very powerful and influential and generous man, who gave many offerings to Sunala. He came regularly, and gave generously, and bid me not to tell anyone of his visits. My superiors were very happy for the revenue the Srinala shrine brought to them, so I was more than willing to oblige him."
Alptraum nods once, then continues to listen. He so wants to ask who, but lets her finish the tale first.
"He sought to speak with his recently departed wife," Mariamara explains. "I summoned her spirit, and she spoke to him, and for a time, he was happy … and he would return again, being just as generous. I became … partial to him, I suppose. My standing was growing amongst the Yodhsunala, and I was becoming too dependent upon his visits. I grew overly bold. I called more upon Sunala's gifts, and with each visit, the Srinala seemed more alive when he came. She sat up. She looked around. And she even rose from her crypt, something I have never seen a Srinala do before, though she would do it only when I called for Sunala's favor."
Alptraum nods, realizing just where this is going.
"He … he wanted to be alone with her," Mariamara says, looking at the floor.
"I can guess what happened, Mariamara," Alptraum says softly.
The priestess closes her eyes. "So could I. But I didn't want to. It meant… " She lets that sentence go unfinished. "For what happened, I am no longer beholden by honor to keep his secret. That man was Vizier Thath."
Alptraum's jaw goes slack. "You can't be serious. Thath? Tha – Gods, this explains why Thath has taken so much interest in me. This is why knowing I'm a blood drinker didn't shock him. He may be as well. I don't think the parents of the Srinala are, but I'm not sure."
"No, they couldn't be," Mariamara says. "The Srinala was not a blood-drinker. A child born of a normal Eeee and a blood-drinker may go one way or the other. It is a trait that may skip several generations … but when we take a Srinala to the temple, we perform many ritual tests on her. I was certain of her heritage, and she did not come from such stock. If you drink blood … then it is because of your father's side."
Alptraum holds his head, jaws clenched to avoid screaming. "This just gets worse," he says hissing the words through clenched teeth.
Mariamara does not meet Alptraum's eyes. "I am sorry to have such ill tidings … but … you deserve to know the truth. As uncertain as the future is, I cannot know that I will be alive tomorrow or the next day, and I know I would be cursed to be a wraith if I went to the grave holding my secret from you."
Alptraum takes several slow and steady breaths, calming himself. "Look at me, Mariamara," Alptraum says softly, "Please."
Quietly, the old priestess complies, looking at Alptraum with weary, red-rimmed eyes.
Alptraum looks back at the priestess quietly. "What do you see when you look at me?" Alptraum asks softly.
"Oh, Alptraum," she says, struggling to keep her voice from wavering, and failing terribly, "I see that precious little child I got to hold for only a very short time. I am so sorry your birth was mired in this … this blasphemy … but I could never think ill of you. I … I couldn't let you be cast from the tower. I just couldn't!"
"Mariamara, I … all my life I wanted to know where I was from. Why I was different from others – there weren't people in Sylvania who looked like me. I've spent my life fighting the thought I was some sort of monster, some sort of freakish thing," Alptraum says, trying to hold his voice steady as well. "I honestly don't know if it was me who saved you – I heard that voice asking why she should live – when the Acolyte fell. Regardless of if I had a father, I was born of the Srinala. Maybe I really am supposed to be here, that Sunala permitted it so I could be here. Maybe not. I just don't know, Mariamara. I … Gods, I just want to belong somewhere. Don't think what happened was wrong, when we just don't know yet."
The old priestess looks at Alptraum long and tenderly, then opens her arms to him. "Then let me not assume any ill of you, Alptraum. Thank you for coming back to Babel. I only wish it could have been at some happier time."
Alptraum takes the offer, and hugs the old priestess in return. "How could I not? I finally got to meet the one person I always remembered as my mother, you. I just hope we all survive this," Alptraum says while hugging. "I just want to help, to make things better here. There are many things I would change, things I find wrong, but they are still my people and I want to help them. I don't want us to have to leave our city, but I don't know what to do. Sunala said we should find a new place, but I don't know. Is there really no hope left here?"
Mariamara whispers, "That, I cannot say. If only it were your birthday! Perhaps on such a special day, you could work a miracle for us, just as you did that day a year after you were born, when I was tested by Sunala. Perhaps something could be done to fight off the invaders. But I am certain that no matter what, we have hard times ahead of us, and there is much blood yet to be spilled. I do not know if I have the strength to bear it all."
"Then lean on me when you need strength," Alptraum whispers back. "For all you've done for me, I'll try to be strength when you need it. Maybe somehow I could find out how to use whatever gifts I may have to save us. Several have sensed great potential in me. Nekara did, the Savanite priestess who called me the 'Child of a Foreign God' did." He then slowly lets go and says, "And, if we all stood together, I bet we could save our city. But, I don't know if we can find the unity to do so now. I just don't know. But, we should at least try."
"Then I will try," Mariamara says. "Even Rikat, bless his heart, will try, I am sure." She smiles faintly. "If you believe there is hope, then I will believe with you."
"There's always hope where there's still life," Alptraum says, "I'll stand with you, with Rikat, with what our people decide to do. We may have to change to survive – such as making peace with the Yodhrinala. We need their skills to survive. Things will change in Babel, as Sunala said, it is inevitable. But, I want the changes to be made by us, not by someone from the outside."
