FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

*****

The Tower Express was the only means of public transport between Stations. The gold and black train travelled along an enchanted railway that curled around Chrysalis and travelled to various spots on the destination Stations. Its interior was barely decorated. Not even the insignia of the Church was engraved anywhere within the cold, metal walls.

Roran hugged himself tightly, shivering. "Damn it's cold."

"The Chronomancers never thought to put in internal heating in this thing," Harm answered, chuckling softly between his clattering teeth, his breath condensing in front of him.

"What is it that you want to show me, Chronos?" Roran demanded, hugging himself tightly. "Or were you just hoping that I would freeze to death so that you wouldn't have to hear more of the words of truth from my muzzle."

"Truth?" Harm bit back the emotion that was rising in his throat. "Roran, there are truths in this world that you could barely understand let alone accept. If you think you've hit some truth about me, then you've barely scratched the surface of a millennium-old armour."

It felt strange to be on the receiving end of a cocky smile with little ammunition to return. Roran wore that smile well. "Then why are you so testy?"

Harm kept his face straight but in his mind, he felt the old Harm Chronos rising. An angry, careless fool with only the desire for revenge and a burning hatred that destroyed an entire race. He tore his gaze from Roran, peering out the windows of the metal compartments. The Station of Incendius rolled down beneath them, perfectly green and blue with a light dusting of clouds. A faint film of violet from the Sun Spire's dim glow washed over the flat hunk of land.

His mind wandered briefly to when Incendius truly took after its namesake.

When Incendius burned during the Purge of Time.

"I am not as eternal as you may think," he whispered softly. "During the Purge of Time, I gave the Church weapons that could kill, torment and trap Chronomancers. Now that all the Chronomancers have been incapacitated or killed, how do you think it feels to be constantly distrusted by the very same people you helped - you risked your life for - and have those very same tools you gave them pointed at you with a scepticism and suspicion that you can't help but live with? Worse, do you think they would let you tell them when they've done wrong?"

He placed his paw on the windowsill, feeling the cold run up his fingertips. "It's like raising a child only for them to grow to hate you for no reason than because you are you. Then, when you are old and crippled, all you can do is give them advice but they will not listen. They hold your lifeline in their hands and with one yank..." He closed his fist, making a tugging motion. "... all you can do is sit there and die while they slowly destroy what you worked so hard to give them."

Roran was silent for a long moment. Harm just watched the plane of Incendius vanish into the crackling red, black and purples of the Void. Lightning lashed out in the chaotic fields and the ominous clouds of the all-consuming realm of the demons blocked out all light from the Sun Spire. Instead, the lights from Church starships and buoys lit the area. Amongst them was one particularly bright, pulsating light.

The Gate Cathedral.

"So you're trapped."

Harm turned his gaze to Roran who didn't seem at all sympathetic. "Yes... I guess you could say that."

"Then you know how we feel!" the Tigris leaned forward, his paws clamped together. "You're just like Yulanda and I. Free but caged. You're giving this... illusion of freedom but you've got swords levelled at your throat every step of the way. I still don't understand why you go out of your way to toy with people's hearts when you could take the same steps as us."

"Rebel?" Harm asked, raising an eyebrow. "Pick up some picket signs, shout really loudly and hope they will listen? My situation is similar to yours, Roran, but not the same. I am not meant to exist. You are. They can snuff out my life with frightening ease and no one will miss me. If I place so much as one strand of fur out of line, there are thousands of Inquisitors just itching to be the one to drive that blade through my heart."

He leaned back in the seat, his mood growing sombre and dark. "I tried it your way one before, Roran. It got me banished from the Chronomancer Collective. I tried it Yulanda's. That got a collar slapped on my neck for centuries."

"So what are you doing then?"

His dark smile returned. "A hybrid of both." He lifted one paw. "In one paw, I make my views known and press it just the right amount for them to get angry and threaten to throw some shackles on me." He lifted the other paw. "In the other, I act on those views behind their back and leave no traces of my presence."

"That's a hard thing to do. That would mean you would have to be in two places at the same time especially with so many swords at your neck."

The door slid open.

Harm poked his head through, grinning broadly at the Wulfun already in the compartment and Roran. "You're talking to a Chronomancer. Do you really think that's impossible?"

With those words, he shut the door.

Roran gave Harm a baffled look. Then he narrowed his eyes and leaned forward even more. "Are you even real?"

"Unlike the other cloning techniques of the other magical circles," Harm said, poking the Tigris' head, "Yes, I am. My other selves are merely alternate versions of myself on a different timeline brought into the same space. Touching is off limits, however."

"It is?"

"Not only will it raise the question of masturbation but it could potentially rip apart the fabric of reality. It's a quite useful battle technique, though. Exploding clones. Always fun."

Roran rested back in his seat, utterly baffled. "That raises many more ethical questions that I believe will just be rebuffed by your insanity."

"And you're getting it," Harm answered, his gentle smile returning. "I'm insane. You can't take whatever I say as law."

The Tigris chuckled softly. "I guess that returns to your 'not having a plan' ideal, doesn't it?"

Harm's eyes glinted with mischief. "Indeed." The Tower Express jostled slightly. Keeping that smile on his muzzle, he said in an ominous tone, "Here we are. The Incendian-Diatollian Gate Cathedral." He flicked an ear towards the window. "Go ahead, take a look."

Like an eager kitten, Roran pressed his face against the freezing, icy window. The glorious Gate Cathedral splayed out before them. Golden arches just floating in the void welcomed them, each one emblazoned with the insignia of Incendius and Diatollia. Heroes of both Stations were immortalized on status between each of the floating arches. Beyond the arches stood an enormous crystal sphere fragmented by hexagonal panels. Starships from the Church hovered around the dome, many docking at the starport sticking out from all over the Cathedral's face.

As the Tower Express passed through the last of the arches, the Cathedral came into full view.

"Amazing..." Roran gasped.

"Each Gate Cathedral is shaped exactly the same," Harm said. "They act as lighthouses and gateways from one Station to the other. They guide the Church's starships through the Void and they process people coming in or out of the Stations. All of them are floating crystal balls with their own artificial lakes and a massive religious, glowing penis embedded in the centre on an artificial island."

Roran gave him a startled stare.

"What? It is! Look!"

Harm pointed out the window at the Gate Cathedral itself. The enormous structure had the typical gold and black designs of any Church building. Sweeping arches, tall, stained glass windows, angels and faces of the Mother Goddess embedded on every pillar and the ominous stylized 'XIII' drawn on every possible face. However, at the very centre of the Cathedral stood an towering edifice that emitted a brilliant glow.

Roran inclined his head to the side, one eye narrowed while the other was widened. "It... sort of does look like one..."

"You should see the upper stations," Harm said, rolling his eyes. "Full of little allegories to the alpha-male. Steel and glass penises everywhere. It's worse in Haven."

"How so?"

"They're spiky."

Roran pulled away from the window and shivered. "Disturbing imagery aside, you wanted to show me something?"

Patting his knees, Harm pushed himself off the seat and gestured for Roran to follow. So late in the night, the Tower Express was practically abandoned. Some individuals were stepping out to make a trip to other Stations but they were few and far between. A Custodia Solis greeted them.

"Passport please," he asked.

Harm retrieved Timekeeper and held it for the Solis to see.

The man instantly went rigid and bowed to the point that his body was almost at a right angle. "My Lord Chronos! I apologise, I did not recognise you. Please, go through."

"Thank you."

Harm stepped past with Roran and onto the Spectrum Bridge. From the train station was a massive, multi-coloured bridge that spanned the calm waters of the artificial lake. Every section was made with differently coloured bricks.

"This place is very breathtaking," Roran said. "But what is it that you wished to show me?" His impatience betrayed his awe. The Tigris' tail was waving from side to side in anticipation and there was a light skip in his step.

Harm lifted a paw and pointed it to the right. Far through the roiling clouds of the Void, it was possible to see faint glimmers of the violet landscape which was Incendius. "What do you see?"

A dreamy expression crossed his muzzle. Like seeing the starry-eyed expression of a child filled with wonderment, Harm could not help but feel the same sense of pity that Roran no doubt extended to him. What he saw disgusted him not because it was of Roran's own doing but rather because the world chose to keep a veil over those eyes to keep them starry and wide-eyed.

"I see a world filled with the warmth of the sun. A world the Mother Goddess created and her daughter decided to save from the darkness for all eternity. I see a world worth sharing not only for the wealthy and the well-off but for everyone. A world that should be equally enjoyed."

Harm closed his eyes for a moment, wondering if that blissful, ideological innocence was worth shattering. He debated the thought over and over again. When he sensed the breath Roran took to ask for a follow up question, he had still not arrived at a conclusion. Unable to face the Tigris with insecurity, he paused time and turned towards the Gate Cathedral. From the distance, he saw the Mother Goddess' visage and felt a tear well up in his eyes. Even the tear was not permitted to exist long and it was drained back into his ducts a moment later.

"You created this world. This is your world. What would you preserve above all else? The innocence of the child or the safety of all? Would you value the life of one at the cost of many or sacrifice the one for the lives of many?"

A bitter laugh escaped him and he felt that heavy weigh pull him against the railings. He was forced to look at his reflection in the water. The Wulfun he saw was so alien, the gentle smile appearing so natural but feeling so artificial at the same time. There was a contradiction in the upper and lower halves of his face. He lifted a paw to cover his eyes in the reflection and what he saw exuded confidence. When he pulled his paw over his muzzle, there was infinite sadness in those eyes but also a fierce spark of determination.

"I guess that answers my question," he murmured, straightening. He repositioned himself to the same pose that Roran would have caught him and resumed the flow of time.

"Is that what you wanted to show me?"

Harm let out a soft snort, turning his gaze away from the Tigris. "You know...I was going to go on a spiel about how you accused me of growing bored of one mission and jumping to the next while you and your kind forget the Darkened still loom beyond the icy gates of Chillfarn... But then I remembered." He lifted his paw and covered one section of the Station with his thumb. "The shadows are a small part of Incendius. It isn't everything. I shouldn't judge a world by what one fragment shouts."

Roran's tail wagged excitedly behind him and he puffed out his chest in pride. "Does that mean you'll support us?"

Sadly, Harm shook his head. "I can't do that. Favouring one side will just tip the balance to another extreme. You should listen to Valk's words. There can be a happy medium between the two. You just have to find it."

Shaking his own head, the Tigris said, "You know how much momentum our campaign could get if you spoke out against the Church, right?"

"Yes. So much momentum that it'll take you straight into the waiting points of the Inquisition." Harm levelled a finger at Roran. "Don't make the mistake of thinking you have the Church outgunned. Do you know why there are so many stars in the skies these days? It's because the Inquisition is getting ready for the worst. If the Justitae Ignibus gets fully militant, you know that you're just one trigger-happy, paranoid Inquisitor from drawing some fabricated connection between the demonic incursion and your rebellion and they'll rain fire down upon Incendius."

"They wouldn't dare." Roran remained aloof. "They would never wipe out an entire Station just for having an opinion."

"They're the Inquisition, Roran. Only their opinion counts."

"Doesn't mean we won't still give them hell should they try!" Roran pumped a fist into the air, a confident grin on his muzzle and no trace of doubt in his eyes. That confidence was truly admirable. Harm felt his gaze wandering towards his reflection in the pool and comparing the aura emanating from the Tigris to the one staring right back at him. One was filled with the surety that they would win; the other was confident they had to win.

"You've given me much to think about," Harm admitted. "That doesn't happen very often for me."

"Then perhaps this is a sign that you should do it more often," came the bright, smug reply. "Maybe all the things you've done over the years is just to put things back to the way they were. Maybe it's time to give way to a new era. Maybe it's a time for change."

The words resonated with him from eons past and he felt the tug of reluctance in his heart just as he had so many centuries ago. His eyes fell on the distance Incendius and how it had stayed in a perpetual state of hatred for so long; hatred that burned for an enemy that had retreated long ago into their shadows and only sent skirmishes now and then to remind children to keep them in their nightmares.

Time only flowed down one path for so long before it carved a new one from the old.

"Maybe so."

He felt a heavy paw pat his shoulders, startling him. Roran was brightly grinning at him.

"Good to hear! But this topic is somewhat depressing. What say you come meet my wife? Dinner at our place tomorrow."

His eyebrows rose at that statement. "You mean that tent you call a home? I doubt that could accommodate us all."

For the first time, Roran wore a knowing smirk that Harm felt wary about. "Didn't you hear? Novallier had lifted the quarantine in the city. We're going back tomorrow morning."

*****

Harm was not accustomed to being surprised and he decided long ago that there were only two surprises he would tolerate: a surprise birthday party as his kept his birthday a well-kept secret and the surprise of learning just how old he was. He was also very rarely angry and when he was, it would seem that time would stand still and he obtained the same respect from the world that Aria enjoyed every day.

The moment he entered Aria's chambers in the clock tower, the wind fell silent, the curtains made no sound as they dropped quietly back to their positions and even the flies in the room bolted for cover. Aria sat quietly behind her desk, lowering the piece of parchment in her hands soundlessly.

"Something I can do for you, Harm?" she asked. Her face was far from innocent. It was clear in her amethyst eyes that she knew exactly why he had come. Not a shred of fear showed in her eyes.

"You gave the go ahead to move the civilians back into the city." It was not a question but a statement. "Why?"

Aria splayed the sheets of parchment on her table. "Because Novallier and Warton may be deaf and blind to your machinations but I am not. I have known you far too long and I know all too well how you operate."

"Do tell," Harm answered stiffly. His smile was gone, his golden eyes hard as steel. Combined with Aria's aura of reverence, the room seemed to have frozen in time without either of them calling upon their powers.

"'Even the smallest demonic artefact will corrupt any mortal'," she quoted. "Does that sound familiar?" She did not wait for his reply. "You uttered it yourself when Novallier interrogated you after the attack on the summit. I did not forget, however, that you possess one such artefact." She pointed at his pocket. "That badge that you liberated from that Agares cult in Riverflow."

There was no use denying it. Lying to an Angel was a grave mistake that Harm had no intention of repeating. "How observant of you."

"The men of the Dawn's Champion did not show any demonic corruption when they first kidnapped Yulanda and Tynvandar either. However, upon their following appearance, they are clearly corrupted. Your insistence that the humans who attacked the summit and the non-humans who kidnapped Novallier's offspring are one in the same indicate that you know something." She pushed one of the parchments across the table, a quill and ink container as well. "I would like to know what."

Harm offered a cynical smile. "A confession, Aria? Aren't we past this?"

She returned the smile. "We are. You know as well as I that this will not see the light of day. Whatever you write down will show the incompetence of the Inquisition, the blindness of Novallier, the holes in the Church and my own willingness to allow you to go this far. I just want this so that I could humiliate you in private later."

"You mean when I go up the Lumire and tell him how much I owned here, you get to stride in and tell him that you knew all along and you let me do it because I'm your little pet wolf that begs for approval."

"Or someplace to 'bury your bone'," Aria answered, one meticulous eyebrow raised.

Harm slipped into the seat in front of Aria, picking up the quill. "If I didn't know you were celibate, I could swear you were hitting on me." He quickly scribbled something on the parchment. Aria read it and gave him a curious look.

"I see. The badge acts like a beacon." She leaned back, arms crossed against her chest and a frown on her face. "Regardless of the circumstance, the demons will have attacked. That is why the demons lunged at Valk instead of Novallier when that would have seemed the practical move. They were going after you."

"A Chronomancer cannot be corrupted by the demons," Harm said. "Same as Angels. That is why in ages past, before the Purge of Time, Chronomancers and Angels were paired together in the assault on Wrath. It was this partnership that destroyed the 12th Station and saved Tower Thirteen from demonic influence."

Aria nodded gravely and she did not seem pleased at all. "I see. So you will be splitting the efforts of the demons between Novallier's ship and Clockwork."

Harm raised his eyebrows. "Snooping around the guest list?"

"Instinct. You made it clear to Novallier you did not want Yulanda on the ship and that means you will have to guard her. Either you intend to sneak her onto the ship with her unbroken Valour or you hope to keep her out of trouble and force feed her some lie about how she will be a target for the demons considering her prior kidnapping by the Champion to keep her complacent."

Even after centuries, Aria never ceased to impress Harm. Not only because she was frighteningly intuitive and capable of unravelling his plots but that she trusted him enough to let him pursue them.

"You know about Sun Dancer?"

"When I investigated Alliance, I learned about Sun Dancer. Your constant disappearances and hers hint at your training. She seems stronger as well."

Harm leaned forward, resting an arm across the table. "Just hypothetically, if I were to try to convince Yulanda that she had to stay put when in reality, I was the target of the badge, how would I do it?"

Aria piled the papers on her desk neatly. "I would draw the conclusion that Dawn's Champion thugs that kidnapped her were somehow related to those that attacked the summit when clearly, they are two different entities. Then, I would flatter her with her importance followed by some accurate observations of her growing strength and encouragements about her potential powers before informing her of her duty to Incendius and her father."

"Actually, I just told her the secret to learning the activation phrase for Sun Dancer."

Aria seemed surprised. "I am rather disappointed. She still has not learned it?"

"Nope. Been taking it slow. She's got this idea of grandeur in her head and a wanton lack of responsibility. If she were to become the next Apex Clericus Solis, she would be out there waging war on the Darkened and jumping on the 'Let's revolutionise Tower Thirteen' bandwagon."

"What a grim future that would be." Aria made a show of shivering as she adjusted her papers. "How fortunate then that I have implanted the seed of imparting the crown to Tynvandar into Novallier's head."

Harm could not have stopped himself from smiling if he had the strength. "Why Aria, you sly fox."

"Novallier is blinded by love and tradition," she answered with a dismissive shrug. "Anyone can tell that Tynvandar would make for a far better Apex Clericus Solis. While he does not possess a Valour, his aptitude for Pyromancy is astounding. Additionally, he is observant, listens well and is a surprisingly good thief."

"Wait... What?"

"Ask me not," she answered, waving away his concerns. "The boy somehow managed to steal a library's worth of books on Pyromancy in the week we have been here. The only time I discovered is when we were evacuating the city."

"Dang..."

"Indeed." Aria brushed a single strand of platinum hair from her eyes. "He has already mastered Nova Supremis and is able to cast it in under a minute."

A rush of air flooded Harm's muzzle as it hung open. Nova Supremis was known as the 'ultimate Fire Magic'. It created an intense nuclear reaction within a certain contained space. The reaction was so intense that it mimicked the intensity of the sun. Those caught within the sphere were instantly disintegrated while those nearby were burned to ashes. For a child to master such a technique was frightening.

"He must have an astounding amount of Force energy..."

"Apparently so," Aria conceded. "In the minute he uses to cast it, he can create two instances."

"Yikes... Some of the best Clericus Solis I know can barely cast one and even then they need like three guys to execute it perfectly. One to start the reaction, one to contain it and the third to stop it."

"Indeed. Tynvandar will make a fine Apex Clericus Solis. By the time I am done, I am sure the crown will be assured to him and you may freely induct Yulanda into the Academiae Militares so she can pursue her wishes as a Paladin."

Harm shrugged, raising his eyebrows briefly at Aria's progress. "I'll admit, I was going to fake Yulanda's death during the fight and then let sneak her into the Academiae later but I like this solution better."

"I'm sure 'Yuna' would agree," she answered, sliding another sheet of parchment across the table.

It was the application form to the Academiae that Harm had drafted for Yulanda under the guise of 'Yuna'.

"Have you been rifling through my stuff again, Aria?"

"You hardly make it a challenge these days, Harm," she answered, smiling coyly at him. "Gone were the days when you would displace your secret items a second or maybe even several days in time and I would have to concoct some spell to counteract it. Now you just leave it under your pillow."

"I sometimes come up with ideas in my sleep and since this place lacks a laptop I can switch on in an instant, I need to keep a parchment and quill as close as possible before the idea slips away."

Aria made no reply to that comment and continued to idly sort through the papers on her desk.

Taking that as a signal the conversation had ended, Harm said, "Just as another hypothetical scenario, if someone invited you to dinner with their expecting wife, what would you do?"

She sighed heavily and placed another piece of parchment in front of Harm. A full dossier on both Roran and his wife, Collia.

"I would bring them some pecan pie. Collia appreciates them apparently. No flowers either. She is allergic and you cannot afford such responses with her baby. Furthermore, make no mention of the child's gender or name. They have not come to a conclusion yet. They seem to be openly avoiding the subject. If it does slip, change the subject to Roran's work with the Estuans Oculus. Pride seems to well up easily amongst Tigris."

Harm regarded the dossier and had to smile. "I don't know whether I should be scared you're this well informed or grateful that you've got my back."

"You are a Chronomancer, Harm. You have no wings to fly. You are very fortune to have an Angel for a friend."

"That I am."

Aria waved him away. "Now please leave. I am expecting Warton through that door shortly and I doubt the warehouse filled with Agares cultists you have timed to explode the moment you shut the door with ominous words will help matters."

Harm folded his arms defiantly. "Well, now that you've spoiled the fun, I don't think I will blow up that sewerage canal."

"Which happens to be over a warehouse," Aria corrected. "And we both know you will do it nonetheless. For the good of Tower Thirteen. Also to urge Novallier to reconsider his act to move the civilians back into the city."

Somewhere in the distance, an explosion rang out.

The door behind them burst open.

"What was that!?" Warton demanded.

Harm exchanged glances with Aria, both of them with knowing smirks on their faces. "Really good timing."

*****

Roran's home was actually quite nice. Harm had expected some rundown shack near the outskirts of town with wild mice running through the holes and gnawing on the feet of anyone caught unawares. Interestingly, it was a double storey home located in the merchant district of the city. Everything looked freshly painted and rather well kempt. Even the 'Welcome' sign hanging from the wooden doorframe looked new.

"Now I think someone is just trying to impress me," he chuckled mildly. He knocked on the door, awaiting an answer.

There was a rush of feet and a crash somewhere. Glass shattered and some soft curses followed. Harm fought back a chuckle and had it completely gone by the time the door sprang open.

Roran stood in a surprisingly well fitted Incendian evening wear. A red doublet fitted his v-shaped torso well and highlighted his shoulders which were left bare. A white ruffled shirt poked out of the neckline and the trousers he wore were gilded with gold.

The idea that Roran and Valk were poor men protesting against their misfortune was completely thrown out the window. Harm reminded himself he had to look deeper into the dossiers than just the first page.

"I was almost afraid you weren't going to come," Roran said.

"I had to stop over at a local bakery for this," Harm said, lifting the pie he held in his paws. "It's pecan."

Roran's smile instantly faded into a scowl. "Is that a joke?"

"Pardon?"

"My wife is allergic to pecan. And you know she's pregnant."

Harm made a mental note to look even more deeply into the dossiers he was given and to make sure to triple check those ones given to him by Aria. This was definitely payback for tricking her into triggering an explosion in the warehouse district.

"My mistake," he replied quickly, tossing the pie aside. It landed on the sidewalk with a loud splat. "I didn't know."

"You have infinite resources at your disposal and you 'didn't know' my wife was allergic to pecans?" The sarcasm dripping from Roran's voice was a thousand blades in Harms throat, preventing him speaking.

Despite the constrained airways, Harm managed to say, "Would you believe that a particular Angel was particularly annoyed at me for tricking her to commit the heinous act of burning about thirty-nine demon cultists in fiery conflagration that she went to enough trouble to forge a dossier about you and your wife that I am pretty sure was only fifty per cent correct?"

Roran gave him a sour look, letting out a heavy sigh from his broad chest. His doublet groaned from having to keep in those large muscles. "This is going to be a long night, isn't it?"

"Do you want me to leave?"

Another Tigris poked her head out from behind Roran. Like him, she was dressed elegantly. The sea green dress she wore sparkled in lamplight, complementing the black and orange stripes that covered her entire body. Soft, brown hair cascaded down her shoulders like a brown, curly waterfall. Every strand was just like her brown eyes, soft, welcoming and warm.

"Ah! You must me Roran's friend from off Station!" she exclaimed, her voice musical like every word she uttered was a verse in a haunting sonata. "Welcome to our humble abode. Please, come in!" She tightly gripped Roran's shoulder. "Come on, dear. Let your friend in."

For a moment, both Harm and Roran exchanged glances. Even without peering into the future, Harm could see how the events of the night would unfold. A mess of awkward pauses, faux pas and unintentional insults would see the night ruined.

"Actually, I'm not -"

"Come in, Harm."

Hiding his surprise, Harm finished amended the end of his sentence quickly. "... really going to stay long. I've got other errands to run tonight."

He mentally added, 'Like crash a starship into Aria's quarters. See how she likes that.' In the back of his mind, he imagined driving a massive starship right into the clock tower. Despite the size and speed, it would somehow suspend itself in midair long enough for him to leap out of the bridge and land in Aria's quarters while she lay in bed in an embarrassing pink nightgown decorated by ducks. He would then reveal the pecan pie, make a snide quip like 'She didn't like the pie' and slam it into her face.

"At least stay for dinner," Roran replied, his smile somewhat stiff. "Collia worked so hard on the roast."

It occurred to Harm that he hadn't entirely thought this night through. By Collia's innocent smile, she was clearly unaware of Harm's involvement or his origins. Add to that the problem of being unable to eat lest the food force its way out of his gut by making an orifice of its own and he ran into the problem of sitting down for a dinner he could not appreciate.

How he wished for a mobile phone to fake a call.

"It would be my pleasure," Harm answered. "But only a little bite."

Roran stepped aside for Harm to enter.

The warmth of the home prickled Harm's flesh. Most of the places he visited were always cold and unwelcoming that entering a house that was so... homey felt so alien. The smell of freshly roasted beef, steamed vegetables and a delicate gravy wafted through the air. The oil lamps that hung from the ceilings cast delicate, wavering reds across the wooden floors. Imaging the lamps replaced by the still Solamps confirmed his suspicions that the lamps made the home seem more alive.

As Roran guided him to the den, Harm was surprised at just how lavished each room was. There were no expensive paintings hanging from the walls nor were there any trophies in masterfully crafted cabinets. The furniture was simple and comfortable without being overly extravagant. The rugs were beautiful but made of simple materials. The books sitting in the shelves were old and weathered indicating their use.

"Tea? Coffee?"

Harm shook his mind away from his observations, waving away the offer. "I'll have to decline. My time doesn't allow me to have such luxuries."

Roran sat down in the seat opposite to Harm and poured himself some coffee. "Thank you for humouring Collia. I had reservations about inviting you but she was insistent on meeting someone from work."

Fixing the Tigris with a sceptical glare, Harm said, "She doesn't know you 'work' for the Justitae Ignibus, does she?"

"She believes I am a hunter."

"Already lying to your wife." Harm grinned broadly. "My, my, you are committed to her."

"Don't mock me. I am willing to wager that in your eons of living, you have not been on a date once."

"Married to my work," Harm answered shortly and proudly. "But in all seriousness, you really should have picked someone else to invite to dinner. I don't exactly look like a hunter."

Roran set down his mug, the coffee already half gone. "I told her you were the butcher who carved up my kills."

"An oddly accurate description in some respects." Harm rose from his seat and wandered over to the bookshelves. "You're awfully well off for a hunter." He picked up one of the books, running a finger along the spine.

"Most of it is a gift from Valk. Before he embarked on his crusade, he was a wealthy merchant."

Harm smiled faintly as he placed the book back. "Valk was wealthy before he became Mr. Equality-For-All?"

"Before he got Alliance, yes."

"How'd he get that, by the way?"

"Came upon it. He dealt with exotic exchange from across the Sunless Lands. It was part of a shipment and it just called to him so he bought it for himself. The moment he got it, I guess the Goddess called to him. He started voicing out equality for all. First in his workplace and then everywhere else. It was only a couple of months ago that he dropped all his wealth, gave it to friends and family and began the Justitae Ignibus."

Staring at the books for a long time, Harm considered the implications of obtaining a Valour from the Sunless Lands especially one that had not undergone process. He was sure Novallier would have had Yulanda's Sun Dancer processed to check for demonic corruption but Alliance...?

"Everything from here came from Valk?"

"Mostly. I bought some myself."

Harm dismissed the thought of Valk being corrupted. Agares' demons lunged at him because of the beacon he held. Valk just happened to be sitting nearby. That was established. Besides, Valk passed through the Inquisition's examination at the summit just like everyone else and he was allowed to pass.

"So you joined Valk because your friend, Lusia, was ravaged by humans?"

"Ravaged and executed," Roran answered grimly. "That and Valk is a good friend. I already lost one because of the non-humans. I cannot stand to lose another."

Harm glanced over at the Tigris. The way the feline crossed his arms and how one leg was draped over the other spoke volumes of his desire to change the subject.

"Loss is always hard to come to grips with. Especially when you have multiple lifetimes to deal with."

"Let me guess," Roran said, rolling his eyes, "you've lost so many people over your years that these days, you just don't let yourself get connected anymore. That way, you prevent yourself from getting hurt."

"The opposite, actually." Harm sat back down opposite to Roran, running a finger along the armrest. "Have you ever noticed that the older you become, the faster time seems to fly by? This is because your brain compartmentalises all the 'everyday' memories into a section and dismisses it. For someone as old as I am, every day passes on in the blink of an eye. Next thing I know, I'm going to blink and time is going to end. The only way to slow down is to get involved in people's lives, make their problems my problems. Feel their pain along my own. Even when they pass away, the pain of loss helps keep their memory fresh and slows down the passage of time. It hurts but it helps."

"Oh you aren't that old, are you?" came the bright, musical reply. Collia came striding in with a tray of crackers and tea. She placed it on the table between them, smiling brightly. "Why would you need to hurt yourself in such a way when you are barely twenty summers sold?"

"Twenty?" Harm laughed softly. "I like to think I look at least twenty-five."

"Still too young to be taking on the misery of others for your own," she answered, seating herself beside Roran, one draped around her husband's waist. "You must enjoy life and take it for all its worth. Opportunity does not come very often, you know." She released Roran's waist and poured Harm and herself some tea.

Unable to decline without sounding pretentious, Harm picked up the cup. "Well, like a good friend of mine once said, 'If opportunity does not come, make your own.'"

"I'll drink to that," Roran announced and took a sip of his coffee.

Harm smiled and took a big gulp of his tea. As the liquid slipped into his muzzle, he quickly paused time. For a few seconds - to him at least - he waited until both Collia and Roran were well and truly frozen. Then, he sprang to his feet, scalding tea in his muzzle and bolted for the door. With the haste of one on fire, he pulled the door open and spat the tea out. A passing Goatex gave him a strange look which he just returned with a sheepish grin.

"Good Goddess," he cursed, letting his tongue hang out in the cold air. "That was hot enough to make the Burning Throne seem frozen!"

Before the exhaustion of keeping time frozen could set in, he bolted back into the den, seated himself down and pretended to keep sipping the tea. He left time resume and made a show of swallowing the tea.

Collia's eyes went wide. "My goodness, that was scalding. How did you manage to drink so much?"

Offering a gentle smile, Harm said, "I had the time."

Roran rolled his eyes and patted his wife's thigh. "Come now, honey, let us have dinner."

"Of course dear," came the sweet reply. "Big hunters such as yourself need your nourishment. Especially for that big hunting trip you both will be attending soon."

Harm lifted one eyebrow, giving Roran a challenging look. "I agree. The trip could be downright hellish."

Roran returned a stare to silence Harm but the latter only took that as another challenge. Led by Collia, they entered the dining room where a full meal for an entire family had been spread before them. The savoury aromas of food caused Harm's stomach to bubble in anticipation but he pushed aside the sensation and sat well opposite from Roran and Collia.

It surprised him that neither Roran nor Collia insisted on prayer before the meal. Most of those people living directly under the Church always uttered some form of thanks before they ate their meals. Harm was halfway to asking whether or not they should utter a verse of Benedicite cibo o dea when Roran began serving himself some roast beef with a heavy helping of gravy.

"Do not be shy, my dear," Collia cooed, spooning some mashed potatoes onto his plate. "Please, any friend of Roran's is a welcome soul in this household."

Somehow, Harm questioned the validity of that statement. As he eyed Roran across the table, he wondered if this invitation was drawn out more from desperation and convenience than true friendship. In the back of his mind, he imagined Roran being pressured to prove to his expecting wife that he was truly a hunter and promised to invite a co-worker for dinner. Harm didn't think he appeared anywhere near a bow wielding woodsman capable of outrunning a stag.

As he took a bite from some salad and munched on it for a few moments, pondered Roran's situation and could have almost laughed at how many times he had encountered a similar situation. He paused time and removed himself from the table, wandering quietly to the back of the house and spitting out his mouthful into the alleyway.

While he was making the return trip to his seat, he paused at the kitchen. It was rare to have technology from one Station cross over to another. It was not prohibited but the Church enforced immense taxes on cross-Station technologies. So a digital photograph sitting on countertop showing a young, bright-eyed Tigris, a well-dressed Draconis and a white-furred Wulfun was a great surprise.

His fingers ran along the metallic frame and the image flickered multiple times to different images, all showing the same trio. The Wulfun, a female, brought a lump that lodged itself into Harm's throat.

"Lusia..." he whispered softly. Green eyes stared straight back at him. "That explains so much."

He returned to his seat, picking up his fork and composing himself into the exact position before he left time. Time resumed at his will and he pretended to chew and swallow.

"Very good salad," he complimented. "Definitely on par with those on Haven."

Collia beamed brightly. "Why thank you." She tossed her curls back, settling herself beside Roran. "What are the upper Stations like? Are they as beautiful as the stories say?"

"Depends on which Stations you mean," Harm answered. "If you're talking about the 12th Station, Wrath, it isn't there anymore. If it's the 11th Station of Temporal... Well, I doubt you want to go there. But Haven is simply amazing. Xaos, the 10th Station is... well... It's chaotic, to say the least."

The female Tigris hid her giggle behind a delicate hand. "Oh my! You are well travelled!"

"You have no idea." The statement came from both Harm and Roran. The two locked gazes for a brief moment before busying themselves into their food. Harm had to pause time another three times and rid himself of the food in his mouth before he another strand of conversation could be struck up.

"My apologies, Harm, was it?" Collia began. "But you do remind me of someone else I seem to recall..." She tapped her chin with a fork as she closely examined Harm.

"Oh really? Who?" He dearly hoped it wasn't 'Harm Chronos', brother to the Propheticus Primoris and notorious Chronomancer.

"Lusia!"

Roran choked on his roast, coughing multiple times before downing the food with some wine. He wiped his muzzle with the back of his paw and turned to Collia with a sheepish grin. "No need to bore him with that little fact, my dear."

As much as embarrassing the Tigris would have been satisfying, Harm let the idea slide. "Ah I doubt I resemble the girl that Roran goes on and on about," he said, waving away the thought. "But this salad! Are these pine nuts?"

Small talk continued throughout the rest of the night with pleasantries thrown in between. Harm made a great show of devouring his food even though he had to start and stop time a total of a hundred and forty-seven times through dinner and dessert. By the fiftieth, there were a few stray cats and rats gathering behind Roran's home.

By the end of the cherry cobbler, the table was cleared with a few packaged pieces of roast beef, mashed potatoes, steamed vegetables and gravy set aside in a container for Harm to take.

"It has been a great pleasure to have you in our home, Harm," Collia said, bowing at the door. "I hope to do it again some time."

"I think not," Harm answered, bringing a bright smile. "Next time, it'll be my turn to host."

"I look forward to it."

Roran insisted on walking Harm home as apparently, the Chronomancer didn't live too far away. When they were a good distance away, Roran broke the silence of the night.

"So how did you manage to devour all that food or will it all come out half-eaten in a few minutes?"

"I stopped and started time," Harm said proudly. "Spat it out behind your house while you weren't looking. You might have a rat problem soon."

"Thank you for that," came the response dripping with sarcasm. "Though... Thank you for continuing the ruse."

Harm kept his features still, his gentle, meaningless smile on his muzzle as it had been for all eternity. "I understand the need to keep your loved ones in the dark. It speaks volumes of your love and devotion for her that you are trying to keep her safe through ignorance."

Roran's lips pursed tightly for a few moments, a gesture Harm did not miss.

"You do love her, right?"

The Tigris gave Harm a pained look. "I cannot believe I am admitting this to you of all people but... Collia... She is the mother of my child but she is not my love."

It was a surprise but one that Harm had heard many times over and had long come to terms with. The dogma of the Church insisted on marriage when a life was brought into the equation. Sex was encouraged if only for the ulterior motive of bringing in a new, easily moulded life under the wings of the theocracy. However, the Church absolutely insisted on marriage when a child was conceived.

Suddenly, the lack of a prayer before the meal made sense and the digital photograph of three youths.

"Lusia."

Roran sighed heavily. "When Valk stated his rebellion, he wanted nothing of my involvement. Like myself, he did not want the weight of another friend's death on his hands. Still, I insisted but on the night of my induction into the Estuans Oculus, Valk got me very drunk and introduced me to Collia..."

Harm threw his head back, letting out a barking laugh. "That sneaky bastard! I couldn't have done it better myself!" He felt Roran's piercing stare but nevertheless ignored it. "You've got to give him props. I bet he gave you all his fortune and his house as a way of apologising too, didn't he? That way you couldn't stay mad at him?"

"I was livid!" Roran growled back. "Just to spite him, I still joined the Oculus."

Harm patted Roran's shoulder, ending with a tight squeeze. "I think deep down, he knew you were going to do that anyway. I think he just wanted to make sure that you had someone to go back to when this all ended."

A stray thought entered Harm's mind but he quickly compartmentalised it for future use.

Sorrow crossed Roran's features and he turned mournfully back towards his home. "It becomes a trial each and every day to be around her. I utter my love for her but every syllable is a lie. I fear she can detect it in the little inflections in my tone or the small ways my body betrays me. I hesitate every time I touch her and when we kiss, I always pull away a moment before I commit. I do not love her, Harm. I cannot. I just cannot."

"Nothing lasts forever." Turning towards the clock tower, the Wulfun said, "Not even the Time Locked are eternal. Chronomancers, faith, the gods. They all have a time allocated to them and one day, when time ends, they will just have to embrace the end and give way to the new world." A small laugh escaped him and he patted Roran's back one more time before he started making his way towards the clock tower. "I guess that's the advantage of living for a single lifetime. You can change so easily and readily. For those of us frozen in the same instant, change is very hard and sometimes, we just can't let go. Someone else will have to chop off our paws for us and we either bleed to death or live on without it.

"Consider yourself lucky that you just won't let go and pity those who can't."

"Does that mean I should pity you all the more?"

Harm paused in his steps and pondered the question. The smile on his muzzle grew genuine and he turned an eye back towards Roran over his shoulder.

"If I couldn't let go, I wouldn't be here now."

*****

The markets were once again busy with business. With the summit postponed until the Sunspot could move over Clockwork and was thoroughly inspected, many of the dignitaries continued to live within the city. This brought much business to the local merchants and the word 'Sale' was thrown around everywhere.

Yulanda absolutely hated shopping but a certain level of maturity was seeped through her thick skull. She had shocked her father when she suggested that visit the local markets to make her presence known and invest in some of the businesses to strengthen the Apex Clericus Solis' presence in the city. Novallier barely managed to give a stuttering reply as he allowed it with Harm as a guard, naturally.

Neither the Chronomancer nor Yulanda told Novallier that it had originally been Harm's idea.

"I don't suppose this is part of some intricate training method that will allow me to learn the secret behind Sun Dancer?" she asked as they strode down the cobblestone streets of Clockwork. Upon sighting her, countless merchants called her over. Some even clamoured over their own customers to show her jewellery that was grossly overpriced.

"Nope," he answered, picking up a metal frying pan and twisting it in his paw experimentally. "There's more to a Paladin than just wielding a Valour. You have to be able to immerse yourself with crowds. Listen to their plights and help them where you can."

"And wandering the crowded streets of Clockwork is a way I can learn this art?" She respectfully declined a taste of fine wine from the Sunless Lands.

"Self-awareness is a key in both battle and social scenarios. For instance, I don't suppose you've noticed I stole your coin pouch, did you?"

Yulanda instantly spun around and reached for her hip. The leather pouch still remained strapped onto her belt.

"Case in point," Harm replied, lifting one eyebrow with an annoying smirk on his face. "You've got to learn how to be more aware of yourself and your surroundings. In crowded places like this, it is very easy to have a dagger slipped between your ribs and never know which hand delivered the blow."

She let out a soft huff and pushed through the crowd. "Easy to say for one with grotesquely large ears and whiskers."

"My ears aren't that big." Harm stopped himself from running a finger over his ears and followed her through the crowd. As he excused himself from a large man carrying several barrels on his shoulders, he spotted a familiar figure lurking in the shadows of the streets.

After a quick debate, he tapped Yulanda's shoulder and pointed towards the particular alleyway. They headed together towards the backstreet, weaving their way through a throng of bustling merchants. A stream of children bolted through them, laughing as they tossed a ball between themselves. Harm rolled his eyes and quickly seized the shoulder of a small Felonix who held a leather pouch in his paws.

"A golden cog for your bravado, kid," he said, reaching into his own pocket and placing the cog in the boy's paws while taking the pouch back with his other. "And another to feed your family. Don't steal."

He turned and tossed the pouch back to Yulanda who fumbled with it a moment, eyes awed. "How did you know?"

"Self-awareness. It's often what saves you against people who can stop and start time at will."

Harm entered the alleyway and was a little startled to find it populated by several women dressed in rather sultry clothing. The colourful mix of human and non-human all wore some garish makeup and clothes that revealed their legs and accentuated their breasts.

"Really, Lord Harm?" Yulanda asked, placing a hand on her hips. "I thought that Chronomancers took a vow of celibacy."

"They don't. You never have to fear getting pregnant from a Chronomancer. Anything that comes out just slides back in. In fact, there was this Chronomancer I knew who insisted on being Time Locked at the moment of orgasm. Talking to him was such a pain. It was hard to take him seriously." His eyes roved the women, his smile gone. "In all seriousness though, I thought I recognised someone here."

"What would the Church say if you of all people had a prostitute lover," Yulanda mocked softly. "Your brother would be so appalled."

"Not as much as you'd think. In fact..." He plucked another golden cog from his pocket and wandered over to one of the women. She looked up at him with half-dazed eyes. In broad daylight, these poor souls would hardly get any return for their time but their desperation was as high as they were.

"Good day, milord," the human woman said through slurred words. She bowed sloppily at him. "What is your pleasure?"

"I'm in the market for a game of cat and mouse. Preferably a big cat. Stripes tickle my fancy as does the colour green."

"How oddly specific," she answered, giving him a coy eye. "Are you looking for anyone in particular?"

"A Tigris. Brown curls and brown eyes."

"Ah. You must be speaking of Colleen. She just ducked back into the building..."

Harm's predatory instincts kicked in and he tossed the woman the golden cog. He vaguely remembered telling Yulanda to try and keep up then he was leaping at the walls of the alleyway. The women below him screamed as he performed a series of wall-jumps, launching himself up the side of the alleyways. He seized a windowsill and hauled himself up into the open room.

A blindfolded man gave a faint 'whuzzat' as a female Leonix cracked a whip. Beside her was a male Leonix with a riding crop dressed in black, studded leather bondage equipment.

"Carry on," Harm said, bolting through the door.

He heard the name 'Colleen' shouted down the stairs and hurled himself off the railings. His paws caught the second floor railings and with all his strength, he pulled himself onto the floor. A flicker of green dropped into a nearby room.

Eyes narrowed, he stalked towards the room, resisting the urge to draw Timekeeper. As he approached, he saw the room number marked as '12' and quietly pushed open the door. Only a dark, musty chamber filled with rosy red decorations and a gaudy heart-shaped bed met him. The smell of sex hung in the air. Recently too. He also detected... Tigris and a particularly flowery scent he had just detected the night before.

Quietly, he crept into the room, closing the door behind him. A flicker of movement behind one of the curtains caught his attention.

"Colleen?"

A crack of a whip.

Blinding pain exploded twice across his back and thick leather wrapped around his neck, cutting off his airways. He fell to his knees, with a gasp. No air was left in his lungs and he seized the whip that had curled around his neck, barbed prongs digging into his flesh. A boot pressed itself against the fresh wounds against his back.

"I believe it is 'Collia' to you, 'Lord Harm'."

His vision was quickly starting to blur as Collia lowered his muzzle to his left ear, a feral growl rising from her throat. "I don't know who you really are but I will not let you leave this building alive."

"It might interest you," he croaked, "that I have died several times before." He flicked out Timekeeper, quickly unfolding the blade and slicing the whip that wrapped tightly around his neck. The rush of air was a relief but one he did not savour. He rolled forward, away from Collia and onto a crouch with his blade ready. "Sadly, I don't intend today to be one of them."

Collia's brown eyes flashed. Gone were the soft, motherly orbs that had served him mashed potatoes so eagerly. Murder was in those eyes. "I beg to differ, Church dog."

"Whore."

She flashed him a dazzling smile. "Why thank you."

"Don't mention it." He hurled Timekeeper at her. It was a sloppy throw and one that she easily dodged. But like anyone in her shoes, she sidestepped and watched the blade sail past her and embed itself into the wooden door. In that moment, Harm charged. With all his strength, he scooped her up onto his shoulders and hurled her straight onto the bed. He dove after her, pinning her paws onto the bed and pressing his weight down upon her. Timekeeper flung off the door, pulled by the golden chain bound to Harm's belt. He snatched the blade from the air and pressed it against her neck.

Nose to nose, he growled, "Is the baby his?"

"Why do you care, lordling?" she snapped back. "Or was that girl just a whore you have tag around to call you 'lord' to make you feel empowered due to your hilariously small member?"

"Penis jokes. Really mature." He bared his fangs at her, ears folded back. "But we're talking about Roran here, Colleen. Is the baby his?"

"What does it matter?" she answered defiantly. "Will you break his innocent heart? Will you tell him that his 'brother in all but blood' hired a whore for him to impregnate so that he will settle down, have a family and ignore the foolish, idealistic crusade that is doomed to failure?"

Harm's eyes widened. "You know?"

The door suddenly sprang open.

"Lord Harm?" Yulanda asked, poking her head in. Her eyes widened in horror. "Harm!"

Whack!

Despite being able to regenerate at an incredible rate, Harm was not immune to pain.

A knee to the groin was still very painful.

Collia hurled him aside. His head banged painfully against the bedside table and he felt a heavy weight slam against his chest, knocking out what little breath was left in his lungs. The cold touch of Timekeeper bit into his already wounded neck.

"I've known since the day Valk introduced me," she hissed through clenched teeth. "I've been hired to keep Roran's mind away from the Justitae Ignibus as much as possible. At first, it was only to distract him but the fool is so obsessed with Valk that not even the idea of rearing a child will stray him from his path!"

She quickly turned her head, glaring at Yulanda. "Not one step closer girl or I swear I'll slit open his neck!"

Yulanda seemed on the verge of revealing a secret she was not meant to but held her tongue and remained at the door.

Colleen turned back to Harm. The murder in her eyes... It was mixed with a myriad of emotions. There was pain, sorrow and...

He understood.

"It's his innocence, isn't it?"

She didn't reply except for a slight tightening of her eyes.

"There's just something about his ridiculously unwavering dedication to his cause that draws you in. Call it innocence, maybe it's ignorance but the fact is, Roran is a person very rare in this world: he's a hero." He paused, waiting for the denial that would prove him wrong. Instead, Colleen bit her lower lip for a moment then retracted the action like she was ashamed of the act. "Not a grizzled war veteran. Not a brutal warlord or even a child with hope in his eyes. Roran is a complex man who is gives off this aura that makes him rough to enemies but at the same time charming. His cynical edge wounds you but the loyalty he shows to his friends and colleagues is something you crave."

Harm's smile began to return. "Tell me I'm wrong, Colleen. Tell me that you aren't in love with him."

She pressed the golden blade against his neck harder, drawing a small sliver of blood. "How do you know him so well, lordling? Is it because you were one of those people?"

He gave off a bitter laugh. "I wish! I was a dogmatic, cynical bastard who was unwilling to change! I adhered to the rules so tightly that the world might as well have burned all around me and I wouldn't have done anything about it! Time is immovable. I stuck to that motto." He reached out, gripping Timekeeper over Colleen's paws. "But as I learned, nothing lasts forever."

With one, mighty jerk, he forced Colleen to slice his throat. She gave off a startled cry and jumped off him, immediately releasing the golden blade and staring at him in horror.

"What?" she stammered. "Why...?"

Harm coughed for a few moments before he began to heal rapidly. He staggered to his feet as the blood that spilled into his scarf flooded back into the wound and his throat knitted together. A few more coughs later and he rolled his shoulders, picking up Timekeeper from the ground and folding it back into his pocket.

"You know, Roran had about the same reaction when I did slit my throat in front of him," he said.

"You... You weren't joking," she whispered, staggering back. Her back pressed against Yulanda's palms and the princess gently guided her to the bed, telling her she might need to sit down. "You have died multiple times, haven't you? What are you?"

"Chronomancer. One of the Church's most closely guarded secrets." Harm nodded towards the door and Yulanda quietly excused herself, leaving the room to keep watch. He reached over to Colleen, gripping her paws in his. "But that is neither here nor there."

Levelling his gaze upon her, the Wulfun said in a very stern voice, "You love him, don't you?"

Her lips first began to form a rejection. Then it twisted into a sorrowful stammer ending with a very soft, 'Yes'.

"Valk never told you to love him. Merely distract him from the Ignibus. I bet neither of you counted on the fact that he would use the whole pregnancy as an excuse to pursue equality, huh?"

"I was foolish," she admitted, cupping her hands in her paws. "I was love struck. He... I do not know what it is about him. Just the way he speaks about justice and equality. The look in his eyes as he promises to defend you. The thought he puts to even the smallest actions to woo you. He is more than I could have ever asked for and here I stand, trying to lure him into a false romance."

"He still loves Lusia."

"I know. I can never be her in his eyes."

Harm tightened his grip on her paws. "Over my years, I've learned that love isn't something that just happens. Soul mates are made not found. In the flow of time, if even so much as a single decision goes incorrectly, that 'soul mate' you sought could be a perfect fit for someone else. That said... while I thoroughly encourage lying in a healthy relationship, I don't think your marriage could endure the fact that you're a prostitute hired by Valk to keep him away from the Justitae Ignibus, you hoped to use the baby as a means to meet that ends and that he's still in love with Lusia but continues to claim his heart is yours."

Rising, he helped Colleen to her feet. "And personally, I think Colleen is a better name than 'Collia' anyway. 'Collia' sounds like some rare exotic disease."

"In my line of work, that wouldn't be too surprising," she answered, chuckling mildly. A tear rolled down her cheek, disappearing into the stripes. "Do you believe he can learn to love me?"

"I know he will," Harm answered, beaming brightly.

"And what makes you so sure?" she answered with a mix of scepticism and appreciation for his encouraging words.

"Trust me. I know." He pressed a paw against her belly. Even though it was still perfectly flat, he said, "Just as I know it will be a girl."