Dream's End

[Kolava]

	Kaori Zerai looked up suddenly from her incense, her eyes wide. More than one 
wall lay between the library and the antechamber, but the squeak of the front door’s 
unoiled hinges had been unmistakable. There had been layers of dust over everything, but 
ultimately it had been hope which made her decide the house was abandoned—plus it’s 
difficult to be picky about shelter during a windstorm. Lamp in hand, she rose to her feet.
	She stuffed her belongings into her pack with her free hand. Her mind raced for 
words to offer an angry groundskeeper, but she was still in partial trance; only 
embarrassment and disappointment came. She extinguished the incense fully, then 
suddenly became very still as a banished thought escaped to the surface of her mind. Could 
she have been followed?
	She almost didn’t notice the silence. There were no approaching footsteps, no 
echoing yells. Only an old house groaning in the wind. She stepped gingerly across the 
library and grasped the door, opening it just wide enough to see the hallway. Silence. 
Whoever had entered had not came any farther than the doorway—or else moved now 
without sound. Either way, they could probably see the light of her lamp, so sneaking on 
her part seemed pointless. She pushed the door open and stepped into the hall.
	"Hello?" She called, softly at first but then again with more confidence.
	"Miss Zerai," said the voice from behind.
	The rush of sapphire that was Kaori's double ponytail whipped through the air as 
she snapped to face the speaker. The lamp dropped from her grip, and, courtesy of finely 
honed reflexes, she stood crouched with a blade in each hand before it had landed. All the 
martial training in the world, however, couldn't have prepared her for what she saw. Poised 
on powerful digitigrades with each gloved forepaw displaying an array of kunai and a pair 
of eyes displaying an equally sharp glare, stood living blasphemy. The Wretched Mongrel 
of Filth, whose every heartbeat mocked life itself. He was larger then she remembered him 
being, but still had the same whip-like sleekness and ingenuously distempered gaze.
	"Kolava," she began, then stopped to look over her shoulder and sheath her blades. 
She picked up the lamp and knit her brow at the puddle of spilled of oil, then ushered 
Kolava back into the library. The initial wave of disgust faded, leaving her better judgment 
to grab the reins back. "Kolava, you're dead."
	"You needn’t remind me," the creature said, “I’m keenly aware of that.”<br>	"But what is at work here? Spell, or charism—or something else? Sure, there are 
Stories which tell of restless dead and, of course, ancestor spirits, but never of deceased 
who simply—"
	“—up and quit the grave?” said Kolava, laughing as he stowed his kunai. “It’s 
something mortals are forbidden to do, true. But such a caveat has never stopped me before. 
Death, I’ve learned, is just a suggestion. It’s all theatrics, really. Keep the masses scared 
enough and they won’t ask questions.”<br>	The creature paced around the windowlit library, craning his head back to admire 
the four stories of books. Great shelves stretched to the ceiling, dominating the floor space 
and casting great shadow across the walls. He paused finally to turn back to Kaori with a 
glimmer of nostalgia in his eye.
	“It’s smaller than I remember it being, and dirty. Are your butlers on strike?” The 
creature's voice was mirthless, but he was making an honest effort at hiding it and it 
showed.
	"No, Kolava." Kaori intoned with similar forced friendliness. "No. A lot has 
changed on Orpheus since you died. Since you left," she corrected herself, "Lucemia isn't 
Zerai land anymore. The Concourse, the Waters...are gone." Azure bangs drooped in front 
of one eye as she looked to the grayed carpet. "It’s Elysian checkpoints now, from sand to 
sea. Most of the castles were quarried for stone; Urselt just had no accessible roads." She 
walked along the wall, tracing dust lines with the tips of calloused fingers. This felt...wrong. 
Something was wrong. The Stories were mythology, but she had trusted them since she 
was a girl; she knew that they held very real lessons for those who could grasp them. And 
the heroes of those Stories never called dead spirits, it simply wasn't done. Tempted 
mortals and foolish sorcerers would do that; and by the conclusion of the plot they would 
had paid the ultimate price for their transgressions.
	Kaori pushed back her hair and took a calming breath, assuring herself that this had 
been a good idea. She was, after all, the hero, right?
	"If I weren't looking at it, I wouldn't believe you;" The Mongrel spoke with quiet, 
careful sympathy, "I always thought I'd see mountains get up and walk around before I saw 
Urselt abandoned."
	"Please, that doesn't help."
	"Sorry."
	The creature sniffed the air, recognizing the cheap Sika incense and Ochia perfume 
of the worker caste. He knew then, more clearly then any words could arrange, how far the 
proud Zerai must have fallen. The only thing she still had, indeed the only thing he had ever 
known a human to have to begin with, was her heart. He focused, reaching into his shallow 
pool of memory, then it clicked. Four years melted in a single breath, and he remembered. 
A noble girl and assiduous Gnostic, Kaori was the spirit of the group whenever hard times 
had weighed on them. She was quick to trust but slow to forgive, and it deeply effected 
Kolava, though he hid it, that her reaction so far had been so kind.
	"Miss Zerai," he shook his head, looking to the soot covered rack that sat in the 
shadows of the empty hearth, "In the last four years, I've no doubt that countless Orphians 
have invoked my name and a few have even attempted contacting me." He looked up 
where the incense had burned, seeing disturbances in the dust where paraphernalia had 
been arranged. "I used to answer, but after being nearly captured twice, I learned better. I 
never again made contact, save for once, and that was to speak to Declano."
	Kaori cringed again. She liked to believe that she controlled her emotions, and that 
her Gnosis could never be eroded by time or small words, but the very name “Declano” 
still struck her cold. It was Unspeakable, and the very air itself seemed to nervously muffle 
its echo. Memories of her prior relationship with the kitsune were deeper in the well of 
shame than she usually liked browsing.
	"—But when it came from you..." he stopped.
	"I was not attempting communication. No, not with the dead. I have more respect 
than that. This was meant to be a ritual of remembrance and farewell, because I don't know 
how much longer I'll remember you. I vibrated a mantra of harmony, hoping I would be 
allowed a chance to clear my conscience."
	"Well, you know Fate. It tends to take you seriously at precisely the wrong 
moments." Kolava grinned dully. "So what was on your conscience? And why here, in 
dusty lamplight? Were the others distracting you?"
	"Oh, Kolava..." Kaori's stomach twisted. "It's not like that anymore. There is no 'us' 
anymore. Ghetti is gone. Duncan, bless that man, has been gripping to tattered edges of his 
people's law to avoid prosecution. Tobias and I tried to keep going on our own, but its been 
really hard.”<br>	Kolava thought about what she had said. "'On your own'? Tetra and Belave have 
been no help?" His wave of nostalgia was cut short by Kaori, who stepped into better light. 
He suddenly saw that her cheeks glistened with hot tears. She swallowed twice, buying 
time to find painless words, but none came.
	"They're dead, Kolava."
	The creature gave no immediate reaction. His pain had long ago collapsed under its 
own weight, and any additional trauma had had little left to grip in his drafty heart. Still, the 
parts of himself he had first discovered in those two friends now churned, decapitated. Yes, 
Tetra had been a fatalist. The creature remembered the young man's impenetrable faith. It 
had led him often into peril from which death was an understood outcome, almost part of 
the reward. But his spark of life had been durable; the creature simply could not imagine it 
disappearing. And the other?
	"Belave gets killed all the time. She always recovers."
	Kaori replied quickly and painfully. "Kolava...she didn't." 
	Now it was the creature's turn to swallow back emotion. "That wasn't supposed to 
happen. I didn't think that would happen." He took in deep breaths of stale air, blowing 
them out through a tight jaw.
	"What happened to Orpheus, Kaori?" he said, foregoing the title, "Where's it all 
gone?" She didn't need to answer. Elysium, for all its veils and deceptions, had a very 
straight forward agenda. It would never be satisfied until no stick could be waved 
anywhere on Orpheus without hitting one of its flags.
	The young Zerai, literally reeking of serfdom, clenched and unclenched her fists, 
her tears finally subdued. “I don’t have much travel money left, but I knew I needed to 
come to Urselt. This needed to be done here. Kolava, I had something to say to you."
	"Go ahead." The creature straightened himself up, his ears perked.
	"I hate you, Kolava. I hate you. You...Everything. This is—" something caught in 
her throat, but she squeaked the thought into being "It's your fault."
	"Yes."
	"All of it."
	"Yes."
	Kaori took a massive breath, and refused to let it out for fear of what she might say, 
what she might hear. Half sobbing, half coughing, she fell to Kolava and embraced him, 
pulling him close to her and burying her chin into his back. The Mongrel opened his mouth 
to offer his view, but his time in Goldenmyst had left more than a hole in his life; it had 
taught him skills he hadn't even known he didn't know. Letting the words go, he simply 
held Kaori and was silent. If this was any sign of how Orpheus was going to welcome him 
back, and he had no doubt that it was, the long road ahead wasn’t looking smooth.

[Kolava]

	“Once more, Miss Zerai, and slowly this time,” said Tobias, taking 
Kaori’s shoulder, “where have you been? Who is here? What are you trying to say?”<br>	“Kolava,” she said, “He’s back. Kolava’s back.” The Zerai girl seemed almost to 
glow, filling the sideroom with her energy. Her eyes were wide and her breath shallow.
	“You are joking,” came Tobias’s immediate reply. Kaori shook her head.
	“You are not joking,” said Tobias. Though his brow rose only slightly and his 
words were cool and calm, the eunuch was, relatively, emotional.
	“He was explaining it to me on the ride here, and I think I—“
	“—ride? You did not take a train, did you?”<br>	“Don’t worry, no one saw him. We had a private cabin, and I had him in my pack 
to and from the stations.”<br>	“A ‘private cabin’?” Tobias’s momentary exitement was gone, replaced by his 
usual stone-faced logic. “Miss Zerai, We do not have that sort of money anymore. In fact, 
after a ‘private cabin’, I am not certain we will be able to purchase food.”<br>	Kaori didn’t seem to hear. Still bursting with inexplicable animation, she had 
placed her pack onto a chair and unfastened its buttons. In an instant, Kolava spilled
 forth and tumbled off of the edge of the chair.
	“I still...don’t see...why that was neccesary.” he said, panting deeply.
	Tobias’s mouth opened to speak, but nothing came, so he closed it. Kaori bent 
down to help the creature up, smoothing his fur.
	“Because we can’t have people recognizing you, Kolava. You may be dead, but 
you’re still infamous.”<br>	“Actually,” Tobias offered, “while the name would get a reaction, I doubt anyone 
in this region would recognize Kolava if they saw him.”<br>	“Yeah! I told...her that!” the creature said. Kaori just laughed, throwing her 
unburdoned sack onto a table and hanging up her jacket.
	“Well, then I was just being careful. And forget about money, Tobias. It isn’t 
important.” she looked to the monk, then to Kolava. “Not anymore.”<br>	“Wait, did I just hear that? Did Kaori Zerai just say that?” Kolava said, 
straightening his vest and grinning.
	Tobias put his back to the window and peered through a small gap in the curtains. 
The street was deserted. He moved to the door, opening it as far as the chain lock would 
allow. The stairwell was empty. Still, his nerves were not settled. Too much was in play 
here, too many unknowns.
	He looked to Kolava, then Kaori. “This location is not secure. We should discuss 
elsewhere. Kolava should be able to walk, it is dark enough. I had had other plans for 
tonight, but in light of the situation, I think it would be wise for us to stick together.”<br>	“What else would you be doing?” Kolava said “Don’t tell me you have a social 
life now, monk?”<br>	Tobias stared, his minimal graces failing him. Kaori frowned. “Kolava, I don’t 
know where you’ve resorted to hiding the last four years, but there’s no excuse for 
sassing us. We’re on your side.”<br>	Kolava bit his lip, realizing that the cynicism that had gotten him by in Rhydin 
was out of place here. He looked to Tobias apologetically, though not too worried about 
the monk’s feelings. “You’re right. Okay, I’ll lay low, you gather everyone for a relay 
tonight. Keep it low-key, and try not to tell anyone who we don’t trust fully. The wrong 
rumors could upset this whole thing. Also, make sure--what? What are you staring at me 
for?"
	" 'Everyone' " said the monk flatly, "stands before you, Kolava. In you death, you 
took with you the obligations of the fringe elements. With the fringe gone, our grass roots 
support has dissolved and the factions have diverged. The original Paragons are all that 
remain."
	"Yeah, and they're an endangered species," said Kaori.
	"Was it all so unstable?" said Kolava with a hint of dissapointment, "Was the bond so 
shallow?"
	"Oh, come on, what did you expect?" said Kaori, "An organization that cuts out 
its own head and heart tends, usually, to die." There was no mirth in her smile.
	"That's...fine. The fringe isn't a key component, we can work around its absence. 
Tobias, what about the Schools, have you kept in touch with them? Do we have their 
support?"
	Tobias said nothing at first, looking to Kaori. "I do not follow orders," he said 
softly, "only guidance--and that, only from my Superiors."
	"Yes, I know. This would be in your best interest."
	"What you believe is your own."
	"What happened to solidarity?" said the creature, his ears perking, "Have you 
forgotten yourself? Or to whom you spe--"
	"--No." Tobias tilted his head towards Kolava, the eunuch's narrow jaw tight. "I 
know to whom I speak. I watched the Kolava who was my Superior end his life with my 
own eyes. I know not who or what you are, but I know you are not him."
	Kolava blinked, gestured, then sighed. Nothing rational could counter such an 
argument. "Yeah, it figures that the only Paragons left would be you two."
	"What's that supposed to mean?!" yelled Kaori. Tobias said nothing.
	"No, Tobias was right. The Kolava you had known ended his life, I'll admit it. But 
he lived for only one purpose, and the fulfilment of that purpose remains unfinished."
	"Look around you Kolava!" said Kaori, waving to every corner of the squalid 
room. "I'd say we're pretty finished. Unless you've become head of another kingdom 
while you've been gone, we're back to square one."
	"Actually, now that you mention it..."
	"What?"
	"Nevermind. Four years may have dulled the edges, but the purpose is still there. 
It begs to be finished, and I will turn a deaf ear to it no longer."
	"But I still don't understand." Kaori said, "If you didn't die, then why did you hide all 
this time? Were you really so ashamed?"
	"No!" the creature snapped, "I regret nothing, not then nor now. I was 
just...disheartened. Hope for this world was lost, and such dreams were abandoned," the 
creature paused to look at the floor "in favor of deeper pursuits."
	"Mirabile." said Kaori simply, drawing out the four syllables as if wrestling with a 
dozen sentences. "She's...gone?"
	"Heavenly gifts are not meant to be eternal;" The monk said, "their brilliance must 
eventually pass on, as all things do, to dust." Tobias removed his helmet, a rare thing for 
him, and held it against his chest.
	"She knew that it was time.” the creature said softly, “That there was no more she
 could do for this world, not after what happened."
	There was a brief silence, then Tobias spoke. "I understand her reasoning."
	"Oh, Kolava, why? Why did you put her through that?" said Kaori, gripping the 
back of a chair next to her.
	"Do not despair. Though Grace could not stay, a proxy has been wrought to carry 
on unfinished processes." The Procurator's chill filled the room, though the air's 
temperature did not change. The gnostic and the monk looked intently to the creature, 
daily concerns and time's doubt dropping away like thawing icicles. The feeling of being, 
of purpose, and the sensation of sudden deliverance came in a single, undeniable rush 
from memory. Those unyielding green eyes seemed to hang in both smothering closeness 
and wind-whipped distances simultaneously, reflecting back the light of the Soul's blaze. 
This was the Gnosis. This was everything.
	"She...is not gone." Kaori said, bringing the three back to reality, "Not while we live."
	Tobias spoke, his face muffled by a crate he had suddenly lifted and was carrieng 
across the room. "There is not much time for discussion. The curfew will be in effect 
soon."
	"We should be gone by then." said Kaori.
	"But where can we go.?" The monk set the crate by the door, looking to Kolava. 
He was no longer their Superior, but they knew that during moments like this, his input 
was all they had. "What will we do?"
	"I explained to Kaori on the way here, I'll explain it to you on the way to the 
shore."
	"The shore? You didn't mention the shore!" Kaori stepped in front of the creature, 
who was moving to join Tobias. Her expression was slightly sobered, but still emotional. 
"What's it have to do with this? We can't go there, no one goes there anymore. The 
coastal towns were never rebuilt after what happened. Even Elysium won't touch the 
delta any deeper than Trekkan."
	"Do not worry yourself, Miss Zerai. What happened to your kind reigning over all 
Waters?" The creature taunted, stepped around her. "And don't worry, we won't be there 
to swim. We just need to get to Pulchron Vale. I guess we can't count on the Sekelt-Na as 
tour guides anymore, but the nexus should still be there." He collected himself at the 
monk's feet, waiting for a reaction which took a few seconds to come.
	"You are joking. Poorly."
	"No, monk. Tonight, we visit the Verge. Tonight, we finish this."
	"Kolava, I knew her well, and I am as compelled as you to be part of her last 
wish." Tobias lofted up his scabbard belt and secured it around his waist. "But three 
fallen Paragons cannot usurp Elysium. They cannot outreach the genies. And they 
certainly cannot stop a world intent on destroying itself. Even with Majestic these things 
were not possible. It is fruitless to hope it will work without."
	"Oh, Tobias, that's why you keep you around." said Kaori. She moved next to 
Kolava, nodding to him."You're the only one brave think about stuff like that."
	"We are vastly outmanned." said Tobias, defeatedly, as he undid the chain on the 
door and lifted the crate.
	"So we have the Schools' support?" The creature stepped around the opening 
door. The monk was stuck, and said nothing, though his brow was knit in concentration. 
A life of martial discipline had prepared him and his kin for any onslaught of arms, but
this was a battle of a higher sort. His actions would require more thought than muscle.
	"Me?" Kaori said, leaning into the unlit stairwell, "I'd probably spend my whole 
life 
trying to squeeze water from a stone if I truly thought it would work."
	"And that is why we keep you around, Miss Zerai." the creature said, laughing. 
"Now let's go."

[Kolava]

"Hey, d'you here what happened the other day?"
"No, what?"
"Yeah, there was this guy. A real loner, probably got some of that Zerai in his blood, and he just 
spent every day, morn'n to night, making songs and pictures and such."
"No kidding. We got a lot of that type these days. The machines're great and all, but they leave 
young people today with not enough work. That's not right, you know? Work builds character."
"Yeah, the poor sap'd be around today if someone had just given him a good shovel, a good 
smacking, and pointed him towards the canal."
"’Be around’? What happened to 'em?"
"After a few years spent, get this: 'studying art', he begins to start getting these crazy ideas, yeah? 
Starts thinking about dreams and spirits and all that."
"Yeah, yeah, what'd I tell you. All that time just sitting around--he never stood a chance."
"Finally ends up on the roof of his factory, having gotten demoted you know--"
"Well that's what happens when you mess around with that art stuff. Keeps you from 
concentrating."
"--yeah, and he's up on the ledge."
"The ledge now?"
"Yeah, about to jump. The greeneyes are there in no time, I'll tell you what. Those boys don't 
mess around."
"No sir. They're the best alright."
"Yeah, and they even got him up halfway back over the ledge just by talking. That's that new, 
what's it called, 'Psychology'...that's that 'Psychology' at work right there."
"They're the best."
"They explain to him the reasonable debt alternatives, and assure him that his finances will not be 
seized if he cooperates. He just gets this blurry, far away look on his face, and just sort of says to 
himself..."
"What's he say, then?"
"He says, 'I can fly'. "
"No kidding."
"Yeah, and he just, lets go."
"No kidding. Didn't scream or nothing?"
"No, they say, get this: he was smiling."
"Thought he could just up and fly off? No kidding. Guess he just plum forgot about gravity, right?"
"Guess so. Anyway, they catch him of course."
"Right, the greeneyes never lose a guy."
"I reckon he's in the tubs by now. Now his brain'll help those University boys sort this whole thing 
out."
"Well good, the lad did his part in the end. What a nice ending--say was that the curfew horn?"
"I do believe so. See you in the morning, then.'
"Right, see you then."

 

	"Agitation. A cold echo. Refusal. The skein is drawn thin."
	The old master leaned to his right and plucked a glowing ember from the brazier which 
sat beside his mat. As he turned it before his cloudy eyes, grey dust sprinkling down his arm, 
settling into the creases of his faded purple robe. At the doorway, his pupil waited patiently.
	"Something surfaces, the words alight." the master intoned. Across his palm he made 
four smooth strokes with the ember, leaving trails of smoking dust. "Something attempts to wake." 
The same glyph on the other palm, then he clasped the ember delicately between both them; fingers met
at the tips. “The surface is speared by their risings.”<br>	"You may give your message now."
	"It is from Brother Tobias. He sees change. He suggests action. We respond?" said the 
pupil, bowing his bald head.
	"We observe only." said the master.
	"A wise decision, master." the pupil bowed again, turning to leave.
	"No. Your voice betrays you." said the master quickly, his eyes never moved from the 
cooling ember, "You hold something."
	"Forgive me...my thoughts have been affected. You know something comes; we all feel it. 
I had only thought, master, that I..that you may, perhaps, send--"
	"You would go?" the old man said. He blew sharply, spreading his palms as the cloud of 
ash spilled out across the mat.
	"Yes, Master." The last of the ash settled down into a thin black film on the mat, and the 
master reached to his left for the brush and pan.
	"Wasted motion, spinning into darkness," he said softly, "Tobias is not the first nor last 
monk to court the winds." He lifted the pan from the spotless mat and placed it to the side. "But, 
no matter. They will expend themselves eventually. And eventually, they will accept what is 
before them." His cloudy eyes watched through the vast picture window, where the River Lastima 
marched steadily towards the sea. "They will Know."
	"Of course, Master." the young monk bowed his bald head, and turned to 
leave. The old man shut his eyes for a very long time.
	Finally, he leaned his right and plucked another ember from the brazier.
 

	"Come back inside, man. That was the horn. We can do this tomorrow"
	"No. I'm staying. I promised I'd visit her every night."
	"So?"
	"I saw my sister back when she was in her bed, when she knew she was dien'. She 
asked to be buried up here, 'cause she wanted to be close to everyone."
	"She was always doin' stuff like that."
	"I promised 'every night'...that was a month ago. I ain't even been up here once, man."
	"Look, she don't care! She's in the ground! We should have left a few minutes ago. If we 
run we could still make it before they shut--"
	"--You don't get it, man. She really cared. When she was dieng, they told her she wasn't 
going to make it. They told her about the sickness, and how it affects the body. She laughed at 
them, man. She laughed..."
	"She was seven. Hell, when we were seven we didn't know anything either."
	"Let me finish, man. She laughed at them, and she said that they were pretty silly for 
worrying about 'one little body'. She said they should be praying...so that some day...some day 
they could be reborn as a flower like her..."
	"Man, you really breakin' up on me. Pull it together, I ain't carrying you home."
	"Did you hear what I said? A damn flower, man...you can't look me in the eyes and tell 
me that's nothing."
	"...Alright, fine. I think about it sometimes. ...But hell, man...it ain't worth it. It don't make 
sense. If all that's real, why's everything so messed up? If they're more than stories, someone 
could have done something by now...something would've happened.. But it doesn't happen, 
man."
	"I don't know, man. I don't know."
	"Come on. Let's run."

 
	The second of two forlorn notes sounded across the mud flats surrounding the city of 
Trekkan. Startled birds once more took flight from the surface of the moonlit River Lastima, but as 
the sound echoed back from the distant ridges, they once more settled back to their roosts. The 
first horn had sent the industrial complexes churning, filling half of the floodlit streets with freshly 
discharged workers while drawing fresh workers down the other half. With this horn, the 
floodlights snapped out, and the streets fell silent except for a few stragglers.
	Out beyond the walls and the noise, however, beyond the floodlights and work shifts, two 
quiet workers ignored the horns. One in front of the other, they navigated the old canals, gripping 
rusty railings where stairs remained and rappelling where they did not. They consulted no map, 
because the large one in front did not need one. He had seen these landmarks a dozen times, 
and his steps were placed by memory. At last, he arrived at the destination, a small access door 
in an abandoned portion of the canal. His smaller companion slapped him on the back.
	"Ah, now that so hard Mr. Salor? I'm glad you've finally decided to cooperate, it makes 
things so much less troublesome." he said. The other only stared straight ahead, transfixed.
	"Alright now, get it open. Go on." He drew his cloak closer around him, stepping back and 
gesturing to the door. The larger man brought up his thick hands and gestured as well, but not 
merely in body language. His digits bent, his wrists floated, and his palms pushed against unseen 
resistance, all with the precise coordination that the mystic arts demanded in a ceremonial motion. 
When he had finished, the door's threshold was suddenly filled with an ethereal glow. The smaller 
figure pushed forwards again, grabbing the latch and yanking it open so that his hungry eyes 
would have to wait no longer. They were not disappointed.
	Such luxurious aromas and exotic noises rushed out to greet them that it was like walking 
into a solid wall. Around them were not pipes and concrete, but flower-laden vines climbing up 
luxurious marble columns. To either side of the landing, plushly carpeted staircases extended up 
and down. In the center of the landing stood fountains circulating what was no more water than 
liquid fire, and around it were arrayed women of unearthly beauty in various states of repose on 
the many casually placed cushions. It was more than a change of scenery; the door which clicked 
shut behind them separated them from an entirely different world. They had stepped from a 
wasteland right into the Garden of the gods.
	

	"My lords?" the young Na said, bowing. His mismatched eyes only rose when the genie 
had grunted approval. "My lord, something approaches, something foul. I felt it before, but now it 
draws very near. Just utter the word, Star of Brilliance, and it would please this humble servant to 
remove such concerns from his lord's worries." the Na rose in a way which drew obvious attention 
to the very large blade at his side.
	"No, child. Sit. I have been anticipating this moment for four years. If something will 
happen," he said. He stroked his braided goatee with one hand while the fingers of the other held 
up his head, "Then it shall happen. It is not our policy to turn down guests. If they seek my 
audience, they will be allowed to approach." He let his arms drop and leaned back.
	"But, Your Glory, surely..." began the Na, but he was silenced forever by that orange 
gaze. The other Na stepped out of the way as their brother stumbled backwards. His arms 
grasped wildly at phantom hooks, teeth gnashed in breathless pain, but nothing could get it out of 
the man's head. At last, blood pouring from his eyes and ears, he lay motionless.
	"Does anyone else doubt thier lord's wisdom?" he said. There was no response, only a 
reverent, fearful silence.
	"Much better."

[Queen Solace Rayana Klojhen]

HOLY SHIT!!

This is fabulous! Is this part of that book you were working on? Or is this just something you have come up with recently?

All I know is I want more...I want to know what happens next. I absolute love the descriptions of Orpheus. Totally put it in perspecitve after all these years.

Wow. Well done, Rob! BRAVO!!

After reading just that little bit, and having had Kolava in the lives of both my main characters, I will never forget him.

Hurry up with more! Good god, man, don't make me drool until you post again!

[Nym Zeal]

It does read like a book. I loved the extra things like the boy talking about his sister and the part about the man saying he could fly. Always knew things in Orpheus were bad but never really understood until this line of storytelling. And of course Kolava remains the favorite.

[Kolava]

	Life, to some, is a maze, in which each individual must find his or her own path. 
Others see it as a wind, a great but invisible force which pushes upon all who stand in it. 
The Zerai scribe Seset, writing during his journeys through uncharted western islands, 
saw it in the waterfall of a rocky island. He watched crystal clear droplets splash through 
the rocks of tropical islands, some water rushing, some pooling, but all eventually 
returning to the sea.
	If life is a river, then sensation is a dam, and no one knew this better than the 
genie. They plied their craft far from the Sun's glare, far from worlds of boundary or 
reason. Where they smiled, the wine never stopped flowing; where they frowned, the 
darkness was filled with teeth.
	Luckily, Damoset was smiling at this moment. He had no reason not to be. 
Around him, a hurricane of pleasure unfolded itself into every moment. Laughing faces, 
their owners intoxicated in more ways than they could remember, needed only drop their 
empty cup to the floor, and one of the genie's children, the Sekelt-Na, would size it, refill 
it, and hand it back with a flourish. The scents and music were so rich that they poured 
visibly through the air, banishing the solitude of even the most secluded corner-- not that 
the architecture called for many to begin with. Best of all, he could savor the 
entertainment to come. His throne afforded him a view of all his domain, and he could 
plainly watch the front entrance, where three new visitors had joined the fray.
 
	"It's much hotter than I remember," Kaori balked, "and I remember it being hot." 
The Zerai girl had shed her outer layer, and now stood in shorts and a tunic which hung 
loosely over her breastplate. Her waist length blue hair felt like it was trying to melt off 
her head, so she tied it up into a bun.
	"Yes. Heavier armor might be desirable soon," said Tobias, "But if we died of 
heat stroke at this stage, it would be unfortunate." With only one layer if you didn't count 
the skin-bonded ectoshell, which he didn't, the monk didn't have much to shed. He folded 
his mantle in front of him.
	After readjusting their equipment, the pair placed what they had shed onto the 
large mound of clothes which already stood next to the door. Around them was what 
passed for the entrance, little more than a long room following a metal grate at the end of 
a dry sewer. No one had been standing guard when they approached, nor when they 
performed the Sign. In fact, save for the resonating beat of distant drums, it had been and 
remained silent.
	"Shouldn't you should be disguised?" said Kaori, but the creature's soft green eyes 
answered the question.
	"The element of surprise is moot at this point. Nothing in the Vale goes unseen." 
said the monk. He lifted his eyes to the red glow in the distance.
	With that thought, the three straightened up and grew quiet. They walked across 
the long room, to where it opened up into a larger area, and fixed their eyes forwards. The 
ceiling retreated up into vaulted arches, and the walls transitioned from concrete to ornate 
masonry. Gossamer fabrics of every color hung from the ceiling, each billowing in the 
humid, alternating breeze. The beat got louder, much louder, until one could feel it in 
their gut--and, see it in the air? Voices were audible now. Hundreds of shouts, half-
words, and lyrical fragments fought their way over the music and over each other, most 
beginning from and collapsing into echoing laughter.
	"Be ready." said Kolava, hanging back and bringing his mirrored goggles down 
over his eyes. The synesthesia had intensified. Wherever one turned, pulsing illumination 
flowed from the air itself, is if one were looking through red cellophane. The floor was 
littered with refuse and chains.
	"Maybe we should go back, there's still time to plan..." Kaori rushed to finish her 
sentence, but was too late. Her voice was devoured by the air as she and Tobias stepped 
out into the storm.
 
	"Alright.  Now those, Mr. Salor, Can you ID those two?" the Elysian officer 
leaned out farther from behind his cover, taking his larger companion by the neck and 
pointing him in the direction of the entranceway. The inky portal had been empty so far, 
and he would have missed the pair’s sudden entrance if not for his sentinel augment. The 
larger man stared dully for a moment, then muttered.
	"What was that?" the officer drew back against the column and gave a nudge. His 
left hand maintained a white-knuckle grip on a small metal cylinder in his coat pocket. 
With nerves already stretched thin, suddenly having two more people unaccounted for 
didn't help. 
	"Kaori Zerai. Tobias Meridian." the large man repeated, loud enough to make the 
officer jump.
	"Quiet! Not so loud!" The large man stared, his eyes empty.
	"Okay, the Zerai girl and a bodyguard, both suspected abberants—I knew this 
would pay off. Now remember your part, Mr. Salor. And remember, Elysium rewards 
cooperation. If the reports are right, and this is everything you implied it to be, then you 
and I might just be a part of history. Wouldn't you like that, Mr. Salor?" Sweat pooled at 
his feet, and his head spun from heat and concentration as he spoke. "To be in the books? 
Have all the children study you? If this goes really well, I might even convince them to 
change a few of the facts, maybe even make you a hero. How does that sound?"
	The large man mumbled something else, but it was also lost in the noise. The 
officer began to raise his voice, but his ears caught something at the last moment, and he 
stopped. Everything had gone quiet. Conversation, songs, and shouts everywhere had 
ceased; even the drums had fallen silent. Not moving from behind the column, he could 
only see the shadows of movement playing on the wall. He drew long breaths in and out, 
straining to make out the distant voices.  All throughout the vast area, seats lay empty and 
balconies groaned.
 
	"Those who hold court in the shadow of Pulchron Vale recognize and welcome 
the Lady Zerai." Damoset bellowed once the last voices had dropped away "Your visit 
brings honor to our humble gathering."
	The two Paragons stood within a sudden clearing by the dark doorway, all eyes on 
them. Even in their innermost layers the two were overdressed, and, with their serious 
facial expressions, they stood out like rusty nails in a bowl of candy. Quick whispers shot 
among the balconies, and there was muffled laughter from the crowd. The gossip circuit 
had long since exhausted itself smearing them in every conceivable way, but now a 
revival seemed immanent; these Paragons just seemed masochists for humiliation.
	A pair of ancient orange suns bore down from the apex of the throne, framed by 
tattooed cheeks and bushy eyebrows. "And Twiceborn, I had never thought I'd say this," 
said the great voice, "but you are also welcome to join our festivities."
	More laughter. From the edge of the crowd, one Na stepped forwards with a jug, 
another with a bowl of fruit. Kaori and Tobias looked to the offers, then to each other. 
Kaori cleared her throat.
	"No, Star of Brilliance. We're here for something more important than fruit,"
	Tobias stepped forwards, parting the sea of onlookers a little more. "We've come 
to discuss matters of profound importance."
	The genie bobbed with laughter. "Oh, truly? When I first gave you the Sign, I had 
hoped you would make more fun use of it. A pity. You Paragons really do work too hard. 
Excitement fills me as I imagine what you must have to offer, though, for surely it must be 
great. Afterall..." He dismissed his mistresses with a flick of one finger. As they climbed 
down from the throne and joined the whispering crowd, he lifted his turban from beside 
him. "What could you have that Lord Damoset of Dusk and Dawn, Shaper of Spectrums, 
Father of the Sekelt-Na, lacks?"
	Kaori narrowed her eyes. The night sky itself seemed to be wrapped around the 
immortal's head. Glittering diamonds, opals, corundums and pearls caught a pulse of red 
light from above, filling her eyes with their splendor. She knew the genie was trying to 
get under her skin, but she couldn't silence the thought that this was out of her league, and 
that she was making a fool of herself. Then, she remembered who was behind her.
	"Divine Mandate, djinn, that's what." she said with renewed strength. She turned 
to flash her forearm, onto which was emblazoned the Codex key. "Fun's over, time to 
come down from there and get back to work."
	The genie gave an immense laugh, filling the hall from floor to vaulted ceiling 
with crimson noise. A gust radiated from the throne, tussling the pair's hair and leaving a 
warm moisture on their skin. Many in the crowd let out wild yells, pouring jugs into their 
mouths and on each other. Kaori stepped back defensively, but Tobias held his ground.
	"Work is for Men." the genie spat, "We, the Deathless, have no Sovereign. We are 
beyond the triviality of labor and routine. Your mortal burdens are yours alone to carry."
	"But, as Deathless, you have responsibilities. Duties." Tobias said resolutely, 
"You do the Great Work. In each one of you is a Divine spark, and each--"
	"Ah, shove it monk." groaned an inebriated voice. Uproarious laughter from the 
crowd followed. "We're tired of yer speeches."
	"Hejsia?" Kaori said weakly, recognizing the speaker. "Hejsia, Keeper of South 
Wind? What is she doing here?"
	"The Wind Halls are gone, girl. The Celestial Bureaucracy is a memory." 
Damoset said, his gaze sliding to meet the third form, which now emerged from the 
archway.  "The time has come to accept that.”<br>	"Damoset." growled Kolava.
	"Oh, hello, Sovereign." replied the genie, feigning surprise. Cups were dropped, 
voices were raised, and weapons found their ways into hands, but the mirrored panes over 
Kolava’s eyes reflected only the eyes of Damoset. "Welcome back.”<br>

[Kolava]

	"You know why I'm here, djinn. You know what you've done." The Mongrel's words 
were small but sharp, cutting through the roar.
	"I most certainly do." said Damoset, looking to either side of Kolava and seeing tight 
jawed Paragons. "But do they? Have you told them the whole truth yet, or are they still your 
pawns, your goons?" The genie sneered. The edge of the crowd threatened to surge inwards, but 
the three held firm. "What story did you tell them to get them out here? Some sort of promise, a 
prophecy, or are they simply so thick headed that they forget what happened four years ago? 
What you did--or, at least, tried to do..." the genie trailed off. Kaori squirmed, Tobias narrowed his 
eyes.
	"Don't change the subject, Damoset." said Kolava, "We're here on the behalf of the domains you have 
allowed to rot and the wounds you insist on picking."
	"Domains? Wounds? Four years ago, all of that was destroyed. Utter desolation, 
Mongrel." said the genie, "And don't pretend to know of hard work. I've spent my immortal life 
flowing through the crevices of the darkness, enjoying only the refuse that was thrown to me, only 
what Light refracted into my domain. I watched with clenched teeth as Man belittled, chastised, 
and exhiled my brothers, knowing deep inside that I would eventually follow. I decided that, if I 
could not intervene, I could at least prepare, and sharpen myself for the coming confrontation. It 
took hard-work, dedication, and a healthy disregard for ethics, but finally I felt I was ready to face 
my terror.
	"But that terror, as I immediately learned, was hollow. My arduously planned 
advances spilled not blood, but hot air. The beast I so feared had turned out to be lame and blind; 
Man was harmless as a toddler. Suddenly, it wasn't about making a stand anymore. It was about 
change. It was about finally unraveling this nonsense called humanity, and bringing power back to 
where it belonged."
	Damoset raised one of his bejeweled hands, palm upwards. Miasma, a prismatic 
distortion in the physical world, flowed visibly towards it, then swirled together and ignited, 
forming a great orange flare which filled the room with retina-searing brightness.
	"You're talking about mass slavery!" said Kaori, sheilding her face. "--or genocide!"
	"There was...opposition." the genie said, canting his head at to Kaori, "But as I lacked the 
distraction of death, the mortals could do only slow me down. The zealous few Eidolons who 
couldn’t be bought rebuked me, of course, but I persisted, and by pouncing on every error without 
hesitation and maintaining an admantine grip on what I already possessed, slow progress was 
made."
	"Petty disputes over domain?" said Tobias, "This was 'progress'?" The lenses of his 
glasses were of the same material as Kolava's goggles, so he could stare directly into the waves 
of energy as they billowed upwards.
	"And I suppose morals were 'obstacles' as well?" said Kaori. She looked to the faces of 
the crowd around them, concentrating on keeping her guard up and her wits sharp.
	"At first, yes. But Mirabile changed all of that." said Damoset. He had risen from his seat 
and stood now at the apex of the throne with both arms raised. The flames took on solidity, 
forming into symbols and partial shapes as he willed them. "What Aeluxamender had been trying 
to do for centuries, she did in a year. Fueds and rivalries went dormant, war shuddered to a 
halt, and even Man's idiocy could not lessen the scintillating moment. We, the Deathless, were no 
longer peers after she came; we were family. She brought us together, showed us the One 
Dream, and for a precious few moments, the Miasma was actually united. I admit, that for bit 
there, they even had me buying all that warm, lovey, brotherhood garbage."
	The genie stepped down from the throne, his powerful shoulders flexing. Following the 
thrust of his fingers, gouts of flame poured into the many torches on the walls. Soon, the last of 
the fire had found its place, and the room was lit by a normal, if not vast and flickering, radiance.
	"Would it have worked? We'll never know, will we, Mongrel?" said the genie, his arms 
settling at his sides. "Things like that never last, and this was no exception, especially after 
Declano got involved. The fortress of faith could not hide its cracks, and while Aeluxamender 
gave all of himself trying to preserve what had been built around her, in the end, his brother 
toppled it. Out of Jealousy? Evil? Ambition? We'll probably never know that either.
	"But what we do know, Kolava, is you. In the end, it keeps coming back to you. You were 
nothing more than a curiousity at first, but you rose to literally become Declano's lapdog. When 
he arranged for you to penetrate his brother's crumbling sanctum and fetch the Shining Vessel, 
you did so out of nothing more than stupid obediance and coordinated pheremones. Even later, 
even now, I doubt you fully understand what you were involved in.
	"Understanding, fortunately, wasn't a necesary part of being a pawn. With you, Declano 
had a conduit to the font of Divine Power, a fresh new face to lead his weary army, and a way of 
influencing the world without being limited by his reputation. The kitsune had engineered the 
perfect protege."
	"I was not engineered." said Kolava, "Regardless of what forethought Declano might 
have acted on, I am my own being. I answer--"
	"--only to one." Damoset finished the sentence. "I know. You told me this when we met, 
remember? The only reason I signed a contract with the Paragons to begin with was because of 
you, Kolava. The rest of the kitsune's army were spineless pawns, but the moment I saw you, I 
knew you were different. We have a lot in common, you know. A lot. That's why our partnership is 
so close. Both vengeful oppourtunists, brought together under the belief that Mankind was not, 
perhaps never had been, fit to rule Orpheus. Wasn’t that what the Paragons were really about? 
Selecting a worthy few to rule after Order had been demolished?"
	"It was never about that!" shot Kaori.
	"Maybe not. Maybe your motives were as noble as you claimed. Who's to say? Motives 
are fleeting and personal; one's place in the world is defined by action alone. Action, like pillaging 
temples. Like disrupting justice. Like deliberately sabotaging communication. You Paragons were 
parasites, sucking away the lifeblood of civilization to sate your thirst for chaos."
	"Those were not our proudest moments," said Tobias "But with stakes as high as they 
were, the ends justified the means."
	"Calm down, monk. You aren't being chastised on morals." said Damoset. "I have seen 
far more vile deeds done in my time--most of them by those in my court. No, the Paragon's antics 
were flawed because they shared the flaw of all mortal works: they were survivalistic and 
ultimately insignificant. To be associated with you during those early years was, to be honest, an 
embarassment. Four years ago, however, that all changed." Grips tightened on weapons, and 
heated words prowled near the surface, just waiting for the stimulus that would send them 
gushing out.
	"I don't know how you did it, Kolava. I can only imagine what lies you had to tell her, what 
vice you had to clamp on her heart to make her forget Divine Law, but somehow you did it. You 
got her to steal a Star for you." Damoset shook his head in amazement. "I was, and remain, truly 
impressed. You're an inspiration to our profession, Mongrel. If you hadn't stumbled on the next 
step, I might even have called you my equal."
	Kolava's goggled eyes were inscrutable, but his ears drew back and he crouched into a 
more aggressive stance. "Come off it, djinn. I was never trying to imitate you." he said, his fangs 
bared. "I was trying to fix what was truly wrong with the Miasma, and a few corrupted rules stood 
in my way. You, on the other hand, never cared about the Dream. You went out of your way to 
break rules, just to show you could, and as soon as you knew no one could stop you, you 
devoured everything like a glutton."
	The creature turned in place, casting that mirrored gaze out over the glowering crowd. 
"The damage of the Cataclysm was not total. The Halls could have been rebuilt, the Unity could 
have been restored. Mirabile's absense doesn't make her teaching any less valid, and you all 
know it. But no, I see you couldn't be bothered." A gloved forepaw gestured to Damoset. 
"I see you'd much rather abandon it all in favor of the hedonic escapes of greedy tyrants."
	"Greedy tyrants?!" roared the genie, "This, from one who simply declared himself 
'Sovereign of the Miasma'?!"
	"That was completely different." said the creature clearly, but the crowd did not hear him. 
Their lord had provided the stimulus, and now the floodgates were open. Built up rage, fermented 
by four years of penury, fell like rain in the form of wild insults and promises of bodily harm to 
those three pompous brigands. The genie grunted, then dropped into a combat stature. With a 
chorus of ringing blades and jangling chains, the whole of the Sekelt-Na followed suit. The non-
combatant guests quickly retreated back against the wall or up into the balconies.
	Kaori's rapier sang from its sheath, and Tobias pivoted, spinning his tiger hooks into 
a defensive stance. Kolava locked eyes with Damoset once again, desperate for a way to keep 
this from turning into a pitched melee; nothing came.
	"We will handle the Na--" said Tobias.
	"--You get the djinn!" finished Kaori, crouching against an incoming spear thrust.
	"Yes, Sovereign. Come get me." said the Star of Brilliance, leaping into the air and 
immolating himself with a brilliant corona. He flashed his blinding gaze to his children, speaking in 
immense but clear tones. "Do what you wish with the humans, but the Mongrel is mine. He and I 
have matters of profound importance to discuss."

[Nym Zeal]

((*inserts encouraging cheers for Kolava here* Gooooo 'Lava! *pom pom shake*))

[Shari]

*APPLAUDS*

[Mobius Shadowbane]

This would make a really nice novel Kolava . Have you thought of writing a book?