A deep and peaceful darkness surrounded Karal—just the way he liked it. He was grateful to Altra for the loan of his sight, but there were times when both priest and Firecat needed to be alone with their own, private thoughts. Karal, for one, had much to ponder. Would he truly be able to keep his promise not to reveal his past to Alaric? Contemplation and restraint were two virtues drilled into servants of the Sunlord—but the temptation was so great. He laid his head back, feeling a cool evening wind touch his face, catching the scent of night-blooming florets—over how many lifetimes had he and Florian-Alaric known each other? How many circling years had they passed together, ever exchanging the roles of teacher and pupil? Karal sighed, knowing the answer to the mystery would not be revealed—even if Vkandis saw fit to enlighten him, he was bound to forget it again. But Alaric was here, now—that was enough.

The sound of footsteps nearby caught Karal's attention, breaking his reverie. "Who's there?" he called, raising his head.

"A friend," came a soft, amused voice.

The priest smiled in response. "An'desha," he said. "It has been to long since I last heard your voice." He listened as the footsteps came closer, and reached out his hand when he felt a warm body draw near. An'desha's clasped it in a wordless greeting.

"I didn't know that you had returned to Haven," Karal continued, "but I am glad you are back." Silently, he wondered what auspices of the God had brought his two best-loved friends back to him on the same day.

An'desha's hand tightened briefly around his, then pulled away. "I am not here for pleasant reasons, I fear," the Shin'a'in sighed, sitting down next to his friend on the garden bench. "Selenay asked me to come, after consulting with Solaris—they've found a devise in Karse, just outside of the city of Arsendis. No one knows how it got there, but it looks almost exactly like the weapons we found at Urtho's Tower, back when we were young together. Well, when you were young, at least. Never mind—the point is, now that it's been discovered, Solaris wants to deal with it before some farmer or child gets curious and decides to tamper with it--" An'desha stopped suddenly, and made a sound like he was inhaling deeply. "Karal, I must ask a favor you—one which you may not want to grant."

"You need a Channel," Karal said quietly, feeling as if all his breath had left him.

The Shin'a'in made a sound of affirmation. "I'm sorry," he said, "but we can't find anyone else." He touched the Karsite's shoulder. "You don't need to give me an answer right now. I know...I know how much it is to ask of you, after the last time. But please think about it."

"I will," Karal answered gravely. "I will."

-----

"Thank you," An'desha said sincerely, touching Karal's shoulder affectionately. "But for now, let us speak of happier things—how have you been? As you say, it's been far too long."

The Karsite man smiled gently, closing his sightless eyes. "Pretty well, all in all," he answered. "I'm happy here—nothing gives me as much pleasure as teaching, and sharing all I know. Although, I think the students are a little afraid of me..."

The Shin'a'in had to chuckle. "Not of you, surely! You're the most mild-mannered man I know. No offense, but--"

"None taken," Karal answered, smiling again. There were still traces of the boy An'desha remembered from years before, though the rich black hair was shot through with silver, and the dun-colored skin was taut and worn with the passage of time. "It's not in my nature to breathe smoke and fire down on people. I suspect many of them are in awe of Altra, though—well, Altra and my blindness."

"Your blindness? How?"

The priest's face took on a thoughtful expression. "You'd be surprised how many people are intimidated by a disability like mine—they are unsure how to act, what to say and do. As if I needed to be treated differently..." He shook his head. "Well, perhaps it would be different if I didn't have Altra. I owe him a great deal—without him, I wouldn't be able to read or write or teach, or even get around very well, I suppose."

"I'm sure no one would begrudge you the help, considering that you gave your sight to save all of them."

Karal shrugged. "Well, I am grateful to Altra. I don't think I could stand being dependent upon anyone else. That's how Natoli and I--" He broke off suddenly, turning his face away as he flushed a dusky red.

An'desha frowned. When he had left, all had been moonlight and roses between his two friends, the Karsite envoy and the young Artificer. "You're not together?" he asked quietly.

The Karsite shook his head and turned back to An'desha, seemingly recovered from his embarrassment. "No," he answered, "we haven't been for some time. She was young and I was young—it didn't last more than a few months after I got back. I couldn't ask her to spend her life nursing a blind man, not when she had so much talent herself, and so much she could accomplish with the other Artificers. It would have been unfair to ask her to throw all that away for my sake." Karal combed his fingers through the falling wings of black hair that framed his face. "I don't think it would have lasted long, even if I hadn't come back blind," he said at length. "We were both too devoted to other things—I to Vkandis and to the students I was given, she to her theories and inventions. We would have gone our separate ways one day—it just happened sooner, rather than later."

An'desha sat back, trying to absorb this news. "You've been alone since then?" he asked.

The other man nodded slowly. "Anyway, but she and I are still friends. She's married now, with a daughter, Jehane. She's only four, but she's quite precocious—she shows every sign of being as bright as her mother. Altra and I join them for dinner once in a while."

"Hmm." The Shin'a'in shaman idly bit his nail as he thought.

"Hmm, what?" Karal asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"I'm just surprised, that's all—you and Natoli were the favorite pairing to watch for quite a while, you know; you seemed perfect for each other."

The Karsite shrugged again, obviously wishing he hadn't brought up the subject. "Well, these things don't always work out, as you see—besides, love between two naïve young people isn't usually the real deal."

"True enough—you're right about that," An'desha said. After all, his own youthful match with the Adept Firesong had been nothing short of disastrous. Still, he was astonished that a man like Karal hadn't found anyone else in the years that had passed since the accident—he'd always envisioned his friend with a family of his own in years to come. The Karsite seemed deeply committed to the young people now under his tutelage—why hadn't he started a family of his own? An'desha couldn't help but think there was something the priest wasn't telling him about the break with Natoli.

His thoughts were interrupted as a sleek, white and fire-colored form sauntered into his line of sight.

::Hello, An'desha,:: Altra said pleasantly in his mind. ::Welcome back to Haven. I've just come to collect Karal for a council meeting...although I think he's got a visitor who might take some time..::

The Shin'a'in turned to see a boy with wide blue eyes and unruly brown curls standing nearby.

Karal rose suddenly, looking unusually pale beneath his dark complexion. "Alaric," he said. "What are you doing here?"