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The feast-hall of Ro'Xanshin manor had been laid out in a warmer fashion than the greeting hall, with gauzy curtains of thin yellow silk to accent the sun's light and furnishings of dark balak-wood with covers and place-settings of the house colours of red and yellow. The decorators had added artfully arranged boquets of blue flowers as table centerpieces out of defference for House Yusho, cast in a light shade that tastefully contrasted with the depth of Ro'Xanshin's colours. A small orchestra plucked at their instruments, filling the abience of the chamber with the slow, lilting tones of High Imperial. Toroi had always liked High Imperial music, it was dignified, steady, weighty with history dating back to before even the time of the Eagle Empire. It was proper entertainment for a refined ear of noble birth.

Right then, he'd have bitten off his trigger-finger for a peasant jig.

Soft conversation hummed over the music like a waterfall heard from a distance, the sound of Ro'Xanshin's allies and beneficiaries doing what they did best. Politicking, of course, not being a pack of self-important windbags, that came in second. But none of them really concerned him for the time being, most of his concentration was focussed on the person seated at his immediate left.

He cast a surruptitious glance at Baronet Wei, the mouse lifted a small ball of marsh ogren to his mouth with a pair of jade chopsticks. Even the way he ate the tiny morsel of ogren and marinaded vegetables was peculiar. How, Toroi couldn't quite place. Perhaps it was the way it was so methodically done, each one made carefully in the bowl, placing a piece of sauce-covered vegetable ant covering it in the glutinous marsh ogren, turning it over a few times to turn it into a rough sphere before finally lifting the little construction to his lips. Everything was so precise, premeditated, careful. He'd never seen Uelo eat a single thing in all the time he'd been at the manor, but he bet the lotus man ate like that.

"Merciful ancestors, why can't I just focus for half a damn minute!"

He couldn't help it, he could barely lock eyes on the Baronet without his breath hitching in his throat, there was some uncanny similarity there that defied explanation. It wasn't even as though the mouse really looked that much like Uelo, though they both did share the same curiously androgyne appearance, it was something deeper than that, something which evaded his attempts to latch onto so he could begin the process of rationalising it. It was frustrating.

He mentally shook himself and lifted the glass of sharp mountain ogren liquor to his lips and took a small sip, letting its bitter, citrous tang shock his senses back to full functionality. At least before the alchohol kicked in anyway, he thought, growling softly under his breath. But he had to do something, he was being ridiculous now. From the corner of his eye he saw Wei turn to glance at him and realised that he was probably growling a little too loudly. Merciful Ancestors, what was 'too loud' for a mouse anyway? They weren't a predator-evolved species, after all, maybe even a growl of irritation would be enough to startle them.

"Ah, forgive me, I was just thinking about something," He said to the Baronet, apologetically.

The mouse regarded him carefully with those large, watery-blue eyes. Was that colour natural? It wasn't uncommon for the galactic nobility to engage in a little casual genetic engineering, especially since the advent of safe and reliable Intron Application technology, over the years it happened with relaive frequency. Having scions who bore the House colour on their irises would be a very minor change indeed. Still, it was striking, especially against that pure white fur, it made the Baronet look like a perfect sculpture of snow and ice, an arctic beauty that still contained some core of warmth, like a flowerbud covered in morning frost.

"There is nothing to forgive, my lord." The mouse replied, timidly, lowering his eyes a little.

Toroi swallowed hard at the Baronet's reply. The mouse truely did have a pretty voice, musical and toeing a fine line between masculine and feminine. Just as before in the greeting hall he spoke Catalos with perfect highborn diction that bespoke of a fine education. It was also painfully familiar.

"Um, would you... care to try the braised Shelska? It's rather good," Toroi said, aimlessly, cursing himself internally. He wasn't good at making small-talk, that was probably the closest he'd ever came.

"No thank you, my lord. It is a tradition of my House that the nobiity do not eat meat, to show solidarity with our citizens during the early colonisations when meat was scarce and expensive." Replied the mouse, eyes still lowered, seeming to read off a mental script, probably a memorised bit of history.

"And this is still mandatory?" Toroi wondered out loud.

The Baronet's ears twitched a little for just a moment, as though a little unsure of whether he had just heard Toroi correctly or not.

"Ah... No, my lord, the traditions are not followed because they are prescribed but because they... are," He said, hesitantly, before seeming to catch onto a new train of thought. "If it displeases you then am happy to abandon it, of course." He said, looking up at Toroi expectantly.

"What? No, no of course not," Toroi barked, waving a hand, he had been perhaps a little louder than he had orignally intended, the response had surprised him with the depth of its earnestness, whatever faults the mouse-lord had insincerity was not among them, it seemed.

"It's no business of mine what traditions you choose to follow." He added with a dimissive shrug in an attempt to brush the whole matter off casually.

The Baronet seemed to be about to say something in reply, but then faltered and thought the better of it. Instead, he made a shallow nod and broke Toroi's gaze.

"It is as you say, my lord." He said, it seemed like a studied reply but Toroi thought he could detect a slight quaver in the mouse's voice, he wondered whether he'd said something wrong.

"Well... good then." Toroi said, awkwardly. He cleared his throat and sipped a little more of his drink before adding a few pieces of shelska to his bowl. He realised that given the importance of the occasion he probably should have had a servant do it rather than doing it himself but he was really beyond caring. He was really making a mess of the whole affair, it would be better if he just knew what he was doing wrong but twenty years of a life lived in full expectation of growing up to be a landless house warmaster hadn't exactly inculcated a broad knowledge of proper civil behaviour. Even Veoni knew more about such matters than he did. Not that Veoni ever needed them, he could get by with nothing but that damnably ingratiating personality of his. The bastard.

But it was more han that and he knew it, this Wei of the Yusho was almost painfully beautiful. It wasn't so much that he was attractive that bothered Toroi, it was the way in which he was. Every careful, deliberate little motion, right down to the way he made his affirmation known with that little nod, a delicate incline of the head, made Toroi's throat sieze up, they were identical to Uelo's. He didn't want to see the Baronet in that way, he didn't want to feel anything like the same way as Uelo made him feel, not so soon after he'd left, it would be... almost a betrayal of sorts. Perhaps he was being irrational, but there was no denying that it wounded him to be reminded of the lotus man with every act the little mouse made. He almost wished that Wei were ugly or ill-mannered, then at least he would feel simple, honest revultion, this was so much worse.

"Please excuse me, I need some air a moment." He lied, rising to his feet and leaving the table without looking back.

"Ah... my lord, before you go, I-" He heard the Baronet's voice pipe up behind him.

"Hmmm? Yes, what is it?" He said, he didn't turn, he didn't rust himself, but turned his head a little.

"I... I just wanted to commend you... for your rescue of my ship, I mean." The Baronet said in that same expectant tone. "It was an act of great courage, It is a shame that for now it must remain unlauded." He added, punctuating the sentence with a small nervous laugh.

"Oh, that. It was nothing, just something that had to be done." Toroi replied in a level tone.

"Well... my thanks anyway." The Baronet's voice called to his retreating back.

He either ignored or made curt replies to the various lords and ladies who greeted him as he made his exit from the feast-hall, all of them giving some well-meaning congratulation or another, a few of the more overtly pious offered blessings or some tired canard about him 'bringing honour to his ancestors'. The last type he brushed off especially brusquely, the ancestors could go take their non-coporeal arses for a long hike, as far as he was concerned.

Outside, he closed his eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath. The weather satellites were still keeping a soft and steady breeze blowing in over the plains which left the air as sweetly scented as rosewater. He took a seat on one of the wooden benches hidden beneath a trellice of woven flowers and looked out onto the great colour-shifting ocean of peacock-grass being blown into a riotous psychadelic swirl, all in his honour. The very weather patterns of a large segment of the planet were being altered so that this day would be better remembered. He had heard that the people who really hated noble weddings were the retro-meteorologists in charge of those satellites, for the next few weeks they would be in a hectic struggle to re-stabilise the planet's weather, all so he could have clear skies and warm breezes for his wedding.

"What the hell am I doing?" He gasped at last, clapping a hand over his eyes. "I should be in there, it's my damn duty for crying out loud, instead I'm off wallowing in self-pity like a bloody woman."

"You're talking to yourself too. It's the first sign of madness, you know." Came a feminine voice from in front of him.

Though parted fingers Toroi opened one eye to see who was there, he hadn't sensed them coming, he had thought that there wasn't anyone in earshot. Perhaps he was more distrought than he had suspected, if his noetic awareness was beginning to slip.

The owner of the voice was a fox-maiden, perhaps a little younger than him though not by much. She wore a robe of red silk with a fine emboidered pattern of knots in yellow around the collar. She smiled at him (perhaps more of a smirk than a smile, actually) with silvery-grey eyes that shon almost with an inner luminous quality. She looked vaguely familliar, though he couldn't place from where.

"And you would be?" He said, coldly, not in the mood for conversation.

"Oh, don't mind me, just another 'bloody woman'." She said, Toroi's ears half-flattened from embarassment despite his best wishes to the contrary. "Sorry, bad joke, I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I am Traya, apprentice to Maestro Rethan."

That jogged his memory as much as it got his attention, so she was a Maestro, or an apprentice one at least. That certainly explained the robes, it may even explain the eyes, the adaptive nano were supposed to alter the physiology of their hosts over time.

"I think I remember seeing you in passing." He said with a shrug.

"It is nice to know I left some impression at least." She said with a twinge of ironic humour.

Toroi growled under his breath. "Look, I'm not interested in bandying pleasantries with you, Maestro, so kindly state something of importance or leave me in peace."

"To wallow in self-pity, right?" Traya said with a tilt of her head and a faux'-curious tone.

"You had better have a reason worthy of a heroic epic to speak to me in that fashion, because Maestro or not I could have you executed for such insolence, and right now I'm in the mood to try it." Toroi said, fixing her with as withering a glare as he had ever made. It seemed to have little impression.

"Well I'll leave that up to you to decide; I'm here to offer you my fealty." Traya replied, brightly.

"Your... oh, nevermind, I haven't the will to care about such things right now." Toroi sighed, waving the matter away exasperatedly. Traya seemed not to take the hint, or to ignore it in any case. She took a seat beside him on the bench and crossed her arms.

"It doesn't matter, I know my master intends to gain me employment in your service now that I have all but completed my studies with him, and the Archduke will agree."

"Oh really, and what makes you so certain?"

"I was spying on your conversation, he wants you to have a personal Maestro and I am the obvious candidate." Traya replied, smugly.

"You realise that is treason? My case for having you executed grows every time you open your mouth."

Traya gave an exasperated sigh. "Oh do at least try to read between the lines, if I was able to bypass the privacy nanites masking your conversation, a utility web created by a Maestro with decades more experience than I, then what does that tell you about my abilities?"

"It tells me that you are an insufferable busybody, you ought to meet my father, I'm sure the two of you would get on famously, now can you kindly leave me alone without me having to draw steel first?" Toroi snarled in a rising tone.

Traya withdrew a tiny cube of some greyish metaloid from a pouch at her hip, most likely a piece of unformatted nanomorphic compound judging by what little Toroi knew of the Maestro's science. She cupped her hands together in a cage in front of her face with the cube at it's center, a few wisps of sparkling silvery mist escaped the cracks between her fingers for a second and then she parted them to reveal a small, thin, rectangular data chit sitting in the center of he palm.

"Alright, I know when I'm not welcome," Traya started.

"Could have fooled me." Toroi shot back, icily.

"Please just take this, just in case you want to contact me some time." Traya continued, not acknowledging the jibe. She rose to her feet and offered Toroi the token from her outstreached hand.

"Fine," Toroi grumbled under his breath, snatching up the chit. "Just begone already."

Traya bowed shallowly with a suspicious smile on her face and left without another word. Toroi watched her retreat for a few seconds just to be sure he was rid of her and then looked down at the nanofactured token in his hand, it was for appearences a normal data chit besides for the tiny, intricate engraving of an arrow piercing a circle ringed with tongues of flame, a solar eclipse perhaps.

"Tsk, damn thing's probably bugged too..." He whispered to himself under his breath, he briefly considered saying something unpleasant about Traya just in case it was but decided against it, he could just imagine the Maestro witch crowing over him 'talking to himself'. He drew back his arm to toss the thing into the fishpond and then mentally chastised himself for even thinking of doing something so petty, it wasn't becoming of an Imperial noble, he was supposed to be better than childish outbursts. Supposed to be being the operative phrase he thought, gloomily. With a frustrated huff he thrust the thing into a sleeve-pocket and resolved to leave it there long after his presentation robes had been relegated to a box in a dusty and forgotten corner of his wardrobes.

The peaceful atmosphere of the gardens eventually lulled his nerves back to some sembelance of peace, or at least restful unthought. He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed, the sounds coming from the feast-hall sounded a lot more enticing when heard from a distance, he thought. From outside he could just hear conversation going on, music being played, enjoyment being had, lives being lived. Everything looked better when you looked at it from far enough away, Byzantium Tertius had one of the bloodiest histories out of any planet in the Empire, and his own House had a large hand in it, but from the cockpit of a slamfighter skimming the atmosphere it was just a droplet of swirling paintbox-colours adrift in the void, as serene as anything. That was always how he'd viewed such things, now he thought about it, he stood apart from other people, was present to witness their joys and woes but never part of them, never participating. Now it had gotten to the point where he was standing apart from his own life. He couldn't help but bark out a single laugh at that realisation.

"Watchful ancestors, when did I become such a mess?" He whispered to himself, cracking a sardonic smile that slowly faded away like melting snow. Again he searched for a little strength within him to fight off the torpor and again he found it in oath and promise. He reminded himself that he still had to uphold his end of Uelo's bargain if he was to see him again, and somehow he doubted that moping about during the greeting was honourable behaviour, excusable given the earlier events, perhaps, but still rather uncouth. He could bare the stinging, counterfeit love he felt if only so he could eventually have the real thing, it would be a trivial hardship as long as he had hope.

With a final deep breath of clear garden air he slapped his hands down on his knees and rose to rejoin the throng, if not revitalised then at least girded. He didn't get far, he'd barely risen to his feet before he nearly bumped headfirst into Veoni's chest.

"Ah, tovarich, there you are, I had just gone looking for you!" Veoni chimed, merrily.

"Oh, Veoni, I was just about to return-" Toroi stammered, smoothing down his robe even though it didn't really need it.

"Good, good, we were all wondering where you went,"

"I... just needed some air, that's all." Toroi replied, clearing his throat.

Veoni's friendly, open smile dropped in an instant, his expression growing strangely uneasy, even dour.

"What? I-"

"Alright, do not lie to me, what is the real reason you are out here?" Veoni interrupted, holding up an empty hand to bid silence.

"I just told you..." Toroi Protested.

"Bollocks," Veoni remarked, wearily. "Did you really think I'm going to buy the 'I just needed some air' line? That's the first thing people jump to when they don't want to say the real reason. Except me, of course, but as I have told you in the past-"

"-you are a superior being, yes, I remember." Toroi said with a sigh. "Look, it's just hard to talk about and it's really not worth bothering anyone with, it'd just cause a lot of heightened emotions all round."

Veoni seemed to consider this for a moment before saying, "Toroi, you know my famous pickup-lines?"

Despite imself, Toroi had to bite back a sudden snort of laughter. "Well that was out of the blue. Yes, I think I've known you long enough to know all about your melodramatic, hackneyed, millenia-old pickup-lines by now."

Veoni let out a triumphant bark of laughter and waved a single finger in front of his face, "Yes!" he hissed. "Exactly right, they are melodramatic, and they are surely hackneyed and as old as the first book of poor technique in seduction was published, but there's something else about them too," Veoni said, leadingly.

"What?"

"They always work,"

"I don't see what this has to do with-"

"-they always work because they are so ridiculously melodramatic, because in their heart of hearts that is what people really want to hear. Restrained passions are of no interest to anyone, if you feel something strongly then you should show it off like an artwork." Veoni continued. He laid one hand on Toroi's shoulder in what was probably intended to be a comforting gesture. "So, tovarich, do not be shy about pouring out your soul to me, be as melodramatic as you like, I will not mind."

"Veoni, I...." Toroi cut his sentence shourt, not out of prudence but because he simply couldn't think of anything to say. He could tell Veoni was being serious, expressing honest concern, and he couldn't deny it was comforting. Truly, if he couldn't speak about all the things that had been plaguing him to Veoni then who could he? They were practically brothers... which of course meant that they squabbled and bickered and got on eachothers nerves with alarming alacrity, but also that there was at least a measure of real familiarity. Afterall, Veoni even called him 'tovarich', which was a high honour in his House, it implied a willingness to fight together on the battlefield and even lay down your own life if it meant protecting that of your tovarich. Quite whether Veoni was that earnest about it he wasn't sure, but it was more than a token gesture even still.

That made him a little more comfortable, but even still, he didn't like speaking about himself to others. He'd voice an opinion if he was called upon for some professional matter, sure, but he never burdened others with his emotions. He'd thought he didn't have any worth speaking about, that he'd managed to puge himself of all that moon-faced irrationality years ago and buried it beneath respectable gravitas. He was wrong, of course.

It seemed like he'd been wrong quite alot recently, maybe it was time for a change.

He glanced back at the bench and indicated it with a flick of his muzzle and returned to his seat, Veoni sat down beside him and placed down at his side a pair of small cups that he'd had pinched on the fingers of one hand that was wrapped around the neck of a bottle. He uncorked the bottle with his teeth and haphazardly sloshed a measure of the thick, sickly-sweet-smelling purple stuff into each cup, spilling a little in he process. Some kind of schnapps by the look of it, though he couldn't tell the fruit from the picture on the bottle, probably something offworld. Never a normal drink for Veoni if he could find something stranger.

Toroi took the cup he handed to him and downed a quick swig, it seemed to lubricate his vocal chords with its oily-sweet viscosity.

"Alright," he said, decisively. "Where to begin...?"

~~~@*@~~~

The air was thick with birdsong when Uelo stepped off the transport. Tehre was another transport on the pad alongside them but he paid it no heed, he was too glad to be home. Galandra, jungle-world and seat of the central temple of the Order in the Vixis sector, was always beautiful during the autumn-cycle, a beauty that belied its status as being about as inhospitable as a world could be without being uninhabitable. A nervous-looking young rabbit who was part of the transport crew graciously offered to carry his effects up to the temple. The poor thing was clearly smitten and had been snatching glances of him throughout the journey from the starport, not that he needed such blatant signals to tell; pupil dilation, flushing on his ears, subtle physical cues in posture and movement, slight reduction in physical coordination when in his presence, voice-tone, the elevated heart rate seen in the pulse-points at his throat and temples, notably hightened pheromone levels ... a first-petal Adept could have seen it a mile away, and Uelo was no first-petal Adept.

But he was so damnably earnest, and Uelo had a soft-spot for that, so he let let the boy. He was probably also hoping to snatch a look inside the temple, that would be amusing, outsiders were always suprised by it, he knew he had been.

Together they ascended the well-worn stone steps up to the many-tiered temple, the carvings on the walls lining the sides of the stair were carved with the images of winding, serpentine, rivers. And in each bend of the river was carved some object or animal or other icon, all leading up to the very top where two stone lotus flowers marked the end of the stair, the source of the river or the mouth of the river, depending on interpretation, or perhaps both. It was a symbolic representation of the Lotus Path, of how all, like the river, are shaped by the obstacles placed in their way, and are made all the more beautiful and complex by them if the right path of adaption can be found.

He smiled when he remembered his first years here as an initiate, he had stared at and studied those carvings for ages, running his fingers over them, hoping to wring some measure of enlightenment from the rock. He had been so young then, too young to realise that the lotus path was written in the lives of people, cold stone could only poorly approximate its form, and its substance not at all. In the end the steps had been more useful than the carvings that adorned their sides, every day as a novice had been accompanied by a morning jog to the bottom and back, and then another one in the evening. At least they slept soundly at the end of the day ...

Yes, outsiders were usually surprised by a visit to the temple, usually when they discovered that while the lotus people may look like pampered courtesans they trained like soldiers and, in many ways, were more deadly.

As they neared the top a familliar figure came into view, standing like a statue under the central arch at the top of the stair. A warm glow of familiarity welled up in Uelo's chest to see them again. Dressed in a long robe of white decorated with pearlescent vine-patterns and his long headfur tied back in a simple knot, the old wolf showed only a few signs of his advancing age in the pale grey of his pelt and the lining of his eyes and still stood rod-straight with all the poise and strength of someone in the prime of life. Uelo bounded up the last few stairs and approached the wolf a few paces before placing his palms together and bowing deeply.

"Master, it is good to see you agai-" He said, he was cut short when the grey wolf suddenly launched a side-kick out of nowhere.

On instinct alone Uelo brought his arm up to parry the kick and rather than resist it let the momentum of the blow carry him along before entering a controlled fall and whirling into a spinning sweep. The wolf lept over his counterattack easily and retaliated with a falling axe-kick. Uelo caught it in his crossed wrists, folded his hands over the wolf's leg and threw him offbalance. The wolf recovered with a handspring, landed back on his feet and launched himself back at Uelo with a sharp yell made stunningly loud by lupine vocal chords. Uelo easily caught the wolf's punch, taking advantage of his species' natural suppleness to absorb the force of the blow, gripped the wrist hard, slammed his free hand into the inside of the wolf's elbow to fold the arm and brought his own elbow in under his attacker's chin. He paused a split second before his elbow crushed the wolf's larynx.

"Too slow, old man, high-skills were always your weakness." Uelo gloated, looking the white wolf square in the eye.

"And low-skills yours, you arrogant whelp." The wolf replied, curtly. Uelo felt a nudge in his groin and looked down to see the wolf's knee poised to deliver a painful blow. "I may have ended up croaking for a week but you'd have been singing soprano, my young friend."

Uelo sighed and dropped his stance, the wolf doing likewise as they both bowed to eachother, though perhaps a little more mindful of further attacks. Had it really been so long since they had last met that he had forgotten how his teacher so enjoyed pulling one of these impromptu tests? Fifth-Petal Adept Royu Twentyman, he had been Uelo's journeyman mentor, had taught him the higher levels of the Lotus Path and personally guided his initiation into the second Petal. The last thing Uelo had heard was that he'd been made abbot of the temple on Galandra just before Uelo himself had been transferred to the Wassis sector. As often happened during such apprenticeships they had become close friends, confidants and occasionaly lovers even outside of training. Leaving Galandra had been all the more difficult because of that but duty to the Order came first and they needed more Adepts in Wassis, which was just being colonised.

"Well, at least you're no going soft with age, Master." Uelo remarked, wryly.

"Don't flatter me, five years ago I would have had you begging for mercy within five seconds, I've grown too contemplative." Royu replied, sadly. "Still, contemplation is part of the job description for an abbot, I suppose, so I'd best become accustomed to it."

"It is said that the contemplative life is the happiest of all." Uelo added, supressing a chuckle.

"Alot of things are said before their reality is ascertained." Said Royu with a muffled bark of scornful laughter deep in his throat.

"Erm... s-sir, where should I-?" Came another, rather nervous-sounding voice. They both turned to see the rabbit flight crewman standing there and looking a little lost, holding Uelo's luggage out in front of him almost like a shield. Yes, outsiders were always so surprised, though not usually by random and unprovoked acts of violence.

"Ah, thank you, just inside the temple there should be an initiate who will show you the way, ask for the guest quarters." Uelo replied softly, adding a little subsonic harmonics to his voice to soothe the boy's nerves. It seemed to have much the desired effect, the rabbit gave as quick a bow as he could manage while carrying the bags, which Uelo returned, and hurried off in the direction of the main temple building's gates.

"Hmmmm, you still do that so easily," Said Royu, thoughtfully, once he was out of sight.

"Do what?" Uelo asked, quizzically.

"The Lotus Path, you wield it's techniques without a moment's thought, you're too good with it, that's your problem." Royu said, strolling off in what seemed to be no particular direction with his hands clasped behind his back, a subtle indicator that he intended to give no more tests of martial puissance. For the time being, at least.

Uelo cocked his head and smiled bemusedly, following alongside the wolf. "I'm afraid I don't follow you, master. Are we not meant to practice our skills with the Path daily?"

Royu hummed thoughtfully in the back of his throat. "The Path is more than a set of useful tricks, within it are encompassed all that the Order stands for, it is not to be used blithely." The wolf paused for a moment, biting off an unformed word as though deleting an attempt to formulate a way of expressing some difficult concept.

"Uelo..." He continued. "What is the first step on the Path?"

"You don't think I've forgotten such things so easily do you, master? The teachers practically beat it into us." Uelo said jokily, though it was more to conceal unease than he liked to admit. He was good at concealing his emotions when he wanted to, it was a basic skill for all Adepts after all, but Royu made him feel quite naked, like the old wolf could see right through any barrier hemight hope to erect.

"Perhaps I do, student, indulge me." Said Royu, ominously.

Uelo faltered internally a moment, trying to judge what his erstwhile master had meant, but Royu was a master of the Fifth Petal and nothing in his countenance revealed so much as the tiniest hint of his mind.

"Well then, in that case, the first step is the awareness of self, paring down one's personality to it's motivating core, understanding what it means to be a rational being as embodied by the First Petal, which is named The Beauty of Order." Uelo said.

"Your answer was studied rather than heartfelt, but an accurate enough assessment without engaging in a few hours of pointless philosophical discourse." Royu said with a nod and a faint smile, his eyes closed as he walked. "So then, what do you suppose you are doing when you use the Path like that? To toy so casually with people's emotions?"

"You think that in the process I am pushing them further back down the path? Hampering their development?"

"That would be the long and short of it, yes." Royu replied, his tone bearing a quaver of disapproval.

"Master, are we not called upon to ease fears? The boy was curious about our ways, if he had remained uneasy - as a result of your little test, I might add - then would that not have stunted his curiosity, and thus his potential for growth, even further?" Uelo retorted.

"And you don't think fear can offer it's own potential for growth?" Royu said, pausing beneath a trellice arch to examine one of the pink-white flowers growing upon it, the flower was obviously wilting and due to be pruned. He turned to face Uelo, leaving the flower unmolested. "Fear to lose something, fear for its safety, fear of never being able to possess it, these things can bring growth too, my former student."

Uelo considered this for a moment before adding, "Not on it's own. All the examples you cite only use fear as a catalyst, in all cases there is something else providing direction and impetus; lust, love, desire. Fear on it's own accomplishes nothing. So in this case, I think I can say I was justified as the boy's unease was not only minor but completely unwarranted, it served no valuable purpose."

Royu sighed, shrugged his shoulders and chuckled a little. "Perhaps, just..." He paused, a look of concern. "Make sure that you're not just placing your own desires in the heads of others, let them have their own, tending a garden too well only stunts it."

"I'll bare that in mind." Uelo said with a smirk. "Anyway, as I was saying, it is good to see you again."

"Ah, of course, and the same for I. Don't mind me, I'm just growing sanctimonious with age, I consider it part of the job." Royu waved the matter aside, dismissively. "Speaking of which, I trust your latest assignment went well?"

"It was... I am unsure, it is hard to say whether it was a success or not." Uelo replied after a moment.

"Oh? That's not like you. Did you finally find a student too intractable even for you?"

"No... no, that wasn't the problem." Uelo replied. Technically the assignment had been a complete success, he'd completed his side of the contract, collected his payment, the Order had it's tithe, everything was complete and accounted for.

Well, maybe not everything, the anguish in the Viscount's voice as he begged him to stay had haunted him since he left the young noble's bedside. It had been as pure an expression of despair as a living thing could make. That was why he couldn't take Royu's fears about him being too cavalier with the emotional aspects of the Path. If he was truly using his skills irresponsibly then he would have taken away the Viscount's pain right there on the spot. All it would have taken is an hour or two of conversation and he would have brushed off every feeling he had for Uelo like a fleeing dream. But he hadn't, he'd left Toroi with nothing but a promise. A promise he intended to honour, but still just a promise. Perhaps, he thought, he should have been more liberal in his usage of the Path, not less.

"I... do not quite know what went wrong, master. I'm not even sure if it really did go wrong, not really." Uelo said, realising with no small degree of annoyance that he was being unusually inarticulate. Expression was as much a skill as any, and like all Lotus People he was meant to be able to do everything he attempted perfectly. It had been a long time since he had been left lost for words, it was frustrating.

"Interesting... are you staying long? I would deeply like to hear more about just what could leave my student so perplexed." Royu said, cordially.

"I don't have any outstanding assignments, I should be able to stay at Galandra for at least a month before anyone notices I'm missing."

"Splendid!" Royu exclaimed. "I could use a real sparring partner for a change,"

Uelo laughed and was about to beg a moment's peace before he sensed the presence of another person approach. Whoever it was walked so carefully that he'd barely registered they were there, consciously or not they moved like an assassin. He turned his head slightly and glanced sideways at the figure who was languidly descending the steps fromt the temple building. The first impression he got was of indistinct black shapes against a background of golden-red fur, broad shoulders, square and dignified, and a ramrod-straight posture. A tiger, clad in a utilitarian suit of the kind of nondescript black worn by people who were too busy to spend time deciding what to wear. Not that the tiger needed fashionable clothes to look striking, the gleam of his eye and the nigh-tangible aura of superiority that surrounded him did that all on its own. Much to his surprise, Uelo loathed him immediately.

"Ah, and our other honoured guest arrives too." Royu remarked, bowing to the newcomer who returned the same courtesy.

"I assure you, abbot, that the honour is mine at your fine hospitality." The tiger replied in a low, purring tone. The tiger moved his gaze to Uelo and he got an unsettling impression that he wasn't so much being looked at as looked through. "And greetings to you too, Adept, though I don't believe we have been acquainted."

Royu was the first to speak. "This is Uelo, master of the Fourth Petal, a dear student of mine. Uelo, our guest here goes by the name of Amaro, he is an agent of sorts."

Uelo bowed courteously to the tiger. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance," he said without a trace of how he truly felt slipping through. "Though, if I may be so bold, master Amaro, but I do not seem to recognise your House markings?"

"Ah, well that would be because I have none, I am neither a retainer nor a member of any of the Houses, nor a Guildsman." The tiger replied, casually. "Which might of course lead you to wonder what business I have with the Lotus Order, correct?"

"It is not my place to pry into your affairs," Uelo replied.

"But I would freely share them!" Amaro said with an offhand gesture of magnanimity. "You know, I was once an initiate in the Order? Quite true, I assure you, I started in the Ravista Temple, imperial date 4263. Alas, I failed to graduate to Adept." He added, shaking his head as if to mourn a wasted opportunity.

"Yes, I have heard that those who fail the test are often employed as agents by organisations outside the Order." Uelos said, cautiously, giving nothing away. Those organisations often ranged from anything between trade guilds to planetary mafias.

"On, yes indeed!" Amon exclaimed, heartily. "An Order education is more than enough to make one's way in the galaxy even without full Adept status, afterall. Why, currently I'm engaged in long-term employment with one of the Empire's oldest noble Houses, a very distinguished line recently come on hard times and in need of men with skills."

"I see, and which House might that be?"

"The minor House of Lashani, Adept Uelo. You might have heard of them, they've certainly heard about you. In fact that is my purpose for being here."

Uelo mentally prepared each muscle in his body in turn for combat, just as a precaution, but this Amaro showed no signs of violent intent. Of course, if he'd had Order training as he claimed then that would hardly be surprising, so best notto take chances.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, master Amaro?" He said, smiling innocently.

"Oh, nothing of particularly gravity, you see I would just like to have a small conversation with you on a matter of great importance to Duke Lashani."

"And that would be?"

Amaro smiled broadly. "Why, the safety of Viscount Toroi and his fiancee', Adept Uelo, I am to make sure that absolutely no harm comes to them."