<div dir="ltr"><div>Once again, this may be part of another story once they go to the archive. It returns to Lucy and Julian for the moment. </div>-LurkingWolf ___ January 5, 708 CR Lucy blinked several times. Although she could feel the dull contact of cloth against her back, she was still not convinced that she was actually awake. This was one of those slow awakenings, and it combined with Lucy’s last waking memories to make her question whether she could actually be alive after taking such a risk. She had always been a student of diverse magicks, specializing in the intricate rather than the powerful where spells were concerned, but there had been no eventuality where she had been given opportunity to attempt the spell she had cast before she lost consciousness. It was lutin magic, and although it was known to work in some situations, it was also only used by its creators. It was considered dangerous to use it in anything but the most experimental situations. Yet, as Lucy blinked several times at the familiar stones of Kyia’s domain, their shape remained constant, and the familiar sounds of the Keep’s peculiar inhabitants moving around just outside of the room she occupied assured her that there was no mistake. She was alive, or this was some well-constructed illusion. She slowly lifted her head, grunting when she felt the stiffness that spread throughout her body. It did not feel as though she had overexerted herself; rather, it felt as though she had been sleeping for far too long in a bad position, and her joints had become stubborn against any attempt to change that position. Still, Lucy had taught herself to ignore her body’s protests. She was soon sitting up, and she found as she did that she was in one of the Healer’s private rooms. It was plain, as such rooms often were, with a simple set of drawers to one side to keep a patient’s belongings safe and very little else. The bed was the most obvious mark of her location. It had been sanitized as well as any bed could be, and the impeccably clean bed dressings were a color white that no other cloth in the Keep matched. Lucy looked up slowly as the door swung open. The raccoon Healer smiled at her as he stepped in, closing the door softly behind him. “It is good to see you are well,” he said in a courteously quiet tone. No doubt there were others nearby that needed rest. “Did Julian live?” Lucy asked hesitantly. Coe smiled and nodded as he sat on the bed beside her. “The two of you were both rendered unconscious by the workings of the spell. Although I was not certain if it was advisable, I decided after keeping you comfortable in the meeting chamber for a while that we would bring you here.” “How long have we been asleep?” she asked. “Counting yesterday, you have been resting for nearly 40 hours. It is the evening of the day after your spell was cast.” Lucy nodded. “Have you sent word to my father? He expected me to return early yesterday.” Coe nodded sharply. “I was able to find someone who knew your father, and the message was delivered. I have to say I am surprised that he did not come in here to demand how you were after he was informed. After last time…” “We had agreed not to discuss that,” Lucy cut him off. Coe nodded, but could not stifle the smile on his muzzle. “How is Julian? For that matter, where is he?” Coe grunted. “He is current on the other side of that wall,” he pointed across the room. “There had been another patient in that room before, but...” He stopped briefly before turning his masked visage to look at the young mage. “We tried to move Julian to an available room, but both of you seemed to wince in pain while you slept whenever you were moved very far from one another.” Lucy nodded slowly. “The spell I used is experimental,” she noted quietly. “It forms a bond that much we know, but the exact nature of the bond is unfamiliar to me. Whatever its nature, if Julian is alive, it likely means that it was sufficient to the task. Let me see…” Lucy prepared her mage sight and was surprised at what she saw. Her aura was largely unchanged, but there was an unfamiliar set of magical lines that extended across the room, disappearing through the wall Coe had indicated moments before. Lucy examined it carefully and realized that it was mostly feeding her magic. Some dimmer strands extended from her, through the wall and presumably to the moondog she was bonded with. “What do you see?” Coe asked. “Our life-force is now bound together,” she said soberly. “His magic is feeding into mine as well. Based on what I can see, I would have the ability to use his magic if I wished. If I understand what the life-bond means, however, magic is not the only thing we share.” Coe just raised his brow questioningly. “We share life. If one or the other is killed, the other would die as well.” Lucy sighed. “I believe that what you observed also has something to do with the bond. I believe that we will not be able to go anywhere without the other following.” She examined the strands. “We should be able to be as far as forty generous paces from one another without a problem, but any distance beyond that would strain the bond, and risk the death of both of us.” Coe’s eyes widened. “You’ll be attached at the hip.” Lucy chuckled quietly. “Nothing so dramatic. Still, yes, we will have to be careful. Living independently will be difficult.” She sighed. “Hopefully, Kyia will make some accommodation for this?” She spoke louder, as though hoping the Keep would hear her. Coe pondered. “Don’t you live with your father outside of the Keep?” “I could not ask either my father or Julian to accommodate that. I will have to live here at the Keep from now on. The distance we are allowed should allow us enough room to live apart from one another… So long as neither one of us needs to go somewhere the other does not.” “It will be difficult,” the Healer said, placing a paw on the girl’s back. “Will you be all right?” Lucy smiled wryly. “I will have to be.” She looked at the Healer, smiled becoming more earnest. “I did this to save a man’s life, not to make my own comfortable. I have regrets, but saving a life is not one of them.” Coe smiled and nodded. “I would have to agree with that.” He might have said something else, but one of the Healer’s assistants entered through the room’s only door. “The other patient is awake, sir,” the young man said quietly. He had clearly been a woman recently, but seemed reasonably confident in his new form. Coe nodded to him and turned back to Lucy. “Would you like to see him? There is no reason why he should not be able to see visitors at this point. The only thing wrong with either of you was being knocked unconscious by the spell. Otherwise you are both quite healthy.” Lucy smiled. “I think that would be good.” She stood up a little stiffly, but managed to keep her footing without the Healer’s help. She followed the raccoon through the infirmary and into the adjacent room. There, sitting on his bunk, was Julian. Lucy noticed as she entered that the aura of fear was all but gone, replaced by just a hint of nagging uneasiness. This se easily quelled, and once she had done so she flashed a reassuring smile to the moondog. Before she could say anything to him, Julian spoke in a tone that was far more human-sounding than any of his earlier attempts to communicate. “Hello Lucy. I wondered where they might have sent you.” He gave a genuine smile. “We were both rendered unconscious by the binding spell, but I have inspected it. The bond seems solid, and it should have the desired effect.” “Thank you,” the moondog said simply. He shifted on the bed uncomfortably, as though he had sat on his tail. “I would have to say that I honestly believed that I would die before I woke. I am pleasantly surprised that the spell was successful.” There seemed to be some sort of distaste in his voice, but Lucy waved it off as the stress of the last few days. “There is one thing that the bond has caused that we must take care for,” Lucy said slowly. Coe stayed at the door and watched her go to sit beside the moondog on the bed. She explained in simple terms what the bond required of each of them. Julian nodded silently as she spoke, listening to her explanation until it was completely finished. When the explanation was done, he looked her in the eye. “It is no surprise, I suppose,” he said quietly. His eyes turned, staring at the wall of the room for a few moments. “I suppose now that I am recovered, we need to arrange another meeting with Lord Thomas.” Lucy considered. “I see no reason for a full meeting as such,” she opined. “We had discussed already the matter or your allegiance to the Duke, and he had accepted on the provision that you were kept under house arrest until you aura of fear was countered. Since that has been done, I believe all that remains is to seek a time where you might ceremonially declare that allegiance.” Julian raised an eyebrow. “Has the aura gone?” he asked. When Lucy nodded he gave a smile. “I wonder…” He seemed to consider something for a moment, and suddenly, with a feeling of chill that swept through the room, the fear that had become a constant companion for the moondog returned. Julian waited only until he saw Lucy and Coe react to will it back into submission again. “It seems you have some measure of control,” Lucy noted shakily. Coe looked about on the verge of panic, but he composed himself quickly once the feeling had passed. “I am sorry for doing that, but I was curious… I wonder…” He raised a hand and, as he held it before his muzzle, a ball of flame appeared, flickering and standing in his palm like a torch set in its sconce. He dispelled the weak spell with a wave of his hand, his muzzle an uncertain expression. “It seems I am able to cast spells again.” Lucy smiled. “I had wondered if you were a mage,” she said. The moondog nodded. “Of a sort. I taught myself some, and other thing I learned in the company of disreputable men in the North. I would much rather forget much of what I know, but I see no living without it after so much time.” He stopped and remained quiet for a few moments. Lucy did not feel like interrupting his contemplation. She had built her life on magic, and it had saved her from having to completely rethink her life in the wake of the Curses. Still, for one who had learned most of his arcane ability in the company of his enemies, she could not argue that much of it would be better forgotten. He turned back to her after a few moments, his eyes inscrutable but his face conveying his regret. “I have a request, if you do not mind,” he said. Lucy nodded. “What is it?” she asked. “I realize that this may seem odd, but… Is there a Follower priest in Metamor?” Lucy blinked. She had never been extremely religious, and when she was she attended the Lothanasi temple guided by Raven. She had never seen a Follower assembly in Metamor. Still, as she thought, she realized that she had heard of one. After the foul fool Loriod had been defeated, a priest had been left in Metamor. Word had spread to her through the too-free tongues of men better jailed, who had thought it funny that Loriod’s torture had trapped the man under the influence of the Curses and made him a boy. Not long after that she had heard in jealous whispers that a grand cathedral for the Followers had been prepared by Kyia herself. The whispers had made her chuckle then. She might not have been a Follower, but hearing a person’s ill-will returned upon them by the success of the one they hated amused her. “There is one, I believe,” she replied. She realized that she had been silent for a few moments, and grinned sheepishly. “I got lost in thought, sorry.” The moondog waved her apology off. “I wish to see him, if I might.” Lucy glanced at Coe, but the raccoon shrugged. “I cannot say whether he will even be available at this time in the evening,” he mused. Julian stood. “All the same, I wish to see him, if it is at all possible.” He began to collect his supplies from the drawers. He had been supplied with some light clothing for his stay in the infirmary, since the armor he had worn was not as appropriate. He left the armor in the drawer for now, drawing out instead a few pouches, papers, and other supplies which he tucked in whatever pouch would fit them appropriately. “I will take you,” Lucy said with a nod. “We have to stay close, after all.” Julian smiled. “Thank you,” he said simply before turning to the Healer. “Am I allowed to leave the premises?” he asked earnestly. “At your leisure. I will keep your supplied here until you can return. Best hurry; if he is still available it will likely not be for long.” Julian nodded and stepped past the healer. Lucy followed, keeping pace with him as quickly as possible. As they stepped into the halls of the Keep, Lucy silently considered their destination. She had never though that she would enter a Follower cathedral, but that was where they were bound. And, she thought, if Julian was a Follower, then there could be many more journeys to the chapel in her future. She smirked in amusement. It would certainly be an interesting life. * * * Father Hough had been in his bed for two hours, but the rest he was seeking would not come. It did not matter whether he stared at the wall, counted sheep-morphed Keepers in his head, or counted off beads in solemn sequence, the bliss of rest would not come. The boy priest sat up finally, shaking his head. Eli usually afforded the priest a generous rest every night, but tonight it was not so. Considering, Hough decided that if Eli did not will him to sleep, He had some other will for these nighttime hours. The priest reverently set the canticles on his reading desk and lit a lamp for light, and began to whisper the words as he read them from the page, voice respectful even in the near-silence of his chamber. As he read, however, even with a finger guiding his eyes, he could not concentrate. He sighed and slumped as his eyes traced the same line for the third time. It was rare when Eli kept his eyes from focusing on his reading, but the boy concluded that there was a purpose for it. He doused his lantern and hopped down from his chair, drawing his priestly garb slowly as he considered the oddity of the evening. Perhaps Eli’s cathedral would grant him more peace. The priest stepped through his door, and was immediately in the grand chapel provided by Kyia for the good of the Followers she guarded. He glanced along the decorative glass windows, noting the subtle shapes and colors that the dim moonlight managed to capture and project onto the stones before him. All was silent in this holy place, as it should be at such a time. Yet, even as Hough watched the moonbeams glow, he heard a sound behind him. Turning, he was surprised to see that the doors were open. They should have been shut hours ago. Hough began to make for the portal to close it himself, but h stopped when he noticed the man who was walking towards him from the doors. He had been nearly invisible against the stones of the floor and the light of the moon. His fur was colored to match them both, and he made no move to announce himself. Hough calmed himself; the man had made no threatening gesture. Perhaps he was lost, or perhaps he had lost track of time. Whatever the case, Hough smiled and approached him. “My son, what brings you to this place so late tonight?” Hough asked kindly. The canine creature stopped, blinking as though he himself had just seen the boy, then he stepped closer, his muzzle showing no emotion. “Are you the priest here?” he asked hesitantly. “I am,” the boy replied. “My name is Father Hough. How may I serve you tonight?” “Father,” the dog bent his head respectfully. “I have come to you because I have much to confess. I would wait for the morning, but I fear that the weight of this burden would crush me in the intervening hours.” Hough blinked. “Eli’s mercy will see you safe, regardless of the weight. For how long have you waited so far?” At this the moondog wept, barely able to remain standing. “Nine years, Father,” he replied. The boy mouthed the words himself in shock. He had heard of many in Metamor who had been forced to wait for his annual visit for a visit to the confessional, but nine years was unprecedented. “Why so long, my son?” he asked hesitantly. “Nasoj does not employ priests of the Ecclesia, I’m afraid,” the moondog replied in a slightly amused tone. “I have worked from our enemy’s camp for these years, Father, seeking to aid the defense of this place in doing so.” Hough nodded slowly. He wasn’t certain if he understood all of the sacrifices that went into keeping his new home safe, but, as he looked into the face of the man before him, he saw an earnestness that made him smile. “Very well, my son. Come; there is no time like the present.” As the two men walked together, a young girl sat alone in one of the pews, silently observing the interior of the cathedral of Metamor. </div>