High walls surrounded him. On each wall lay embellishments depicting what kind of building this was although there was no need for them, the purpose of the building could been seen from the outside. Only a few people were here with him, they were all strangers come for one purpose and one purpose only. Every now and then their eyes would move to study the newcomer but then they would return to their vocation, their heads bowed and lips moving with silent words intended for only one pair of ears. Some spoke quickly while others chose their words carefully. He noticed that one woman pressed close to a wall had tears in her eyes and was looking towards the ceiling her hands raised in petition to some invisible force.

He walked upright quite comfortably in here; his head was too far away from the ceiling to cause him any bother. Coming to a stop next to a pew towards the middle of the building he debated whether or not he should attempt to squeeze himself into one of the narrow seats to fulfil his purpose. Thinking better of the idea he carried on towards the front, there was much more room here. Tucking himself away by the altar he dug into a pocket with his left hand, his fingers fumbling awkwardly for something. After a minute or two he found what he was looking for. Pulling the item from his pocket he looked at it for a moment, it was a rosary hung from a chain of gold that he had for many years.

Lifting the rosary to his lips he kissed it before crossing himself. Lowering himself awkwardly to his knees he clasped his hands in prayer before looking up at the altar, upon which was a statuette of the Holy Virgin and behind that a crucifix. After crossing himself again he bowed his head and closed his eyes.

"El santo María, me perdona. Ha sido mucho tiempo desde que busqué su consuelo. He hecho mal y necesito su guía," Ché whispered finding comfort amongst his trappings, "Mi amigo fue atacado, yo no llegué en el tiempo de salvarla. Yo la fallé. Yo me fallé. Yo me culpo para su dolor, para lo que sucedí a ella. Dígame usted me perdona, eso no había nada más que podría haber hecho aparte de lo que hago hecho ya. Alivíeme Santo María, me perdona con su luz santa y cuida de a mi amigo, ella necesita su ayuda también."

"El santo María le perdonará cuando usted encuentra que la fuerza para perdonarlo." A voice responded making Ché jump slightly.

He turned his head to see who had answered his petition. Kneeling on the floor next to him was a priest. Having heard what the man had said to him he wasn't sure if it was the answer he'd been looking for.

With a thin smile the priest looked towards the altar, "I feel sorry for your friend," The priest said speaking now in English, "I would invite you into a confessional but I'm afraid you might not fit. How long has it been since your last confession?"

"Too long. It's been a long time since I've been to a Church let alone prayed. For the first time in years I've felt a real need to seek help from someone other than myself."

"I see. If I might ask, how was your friend attacked? I know we're not in a confessional but the rules will still apply. You can speak to me in the fullest confidence. Perhaps it will serve to ease your conscience."

"Thank you, Father…"

"O'Mara," The priest replied. "Eric O'Mara."

Ché nodded, "I would accept your invitation but I have said enough already. It isn't for me to determine who should be told and not be told about my friend, it will be by her wish and her wish only that I will say more than I have said already."

"Very well. I understand. If your friend would like to come and speak to myself, here, she only has to come by, if she is able, our doors are always open."

"No offence, Father, but she's not religious and even so I doubt this would be her first choice for a place to talk to someone about what happened. Besides, she already has someone to confide in, a partner that loves her very much."

"She is lucky," Father O'Mara replied getting up, "I must go now, there are others requiring my attention. Tell your friend what I said, even non-believers are welcome here."

Ché watched Father O'Mara cross the floor to his confessional box. Part of him was glad that the man was gone; he hadn't been prepared to speak to anyone solid that bore the duty of speaking for the Holy Mother. Somehow it was easier to talk to an ear that listened and wouldn't formulate an answer. He'd almost been too scared to admit when he'd last knelt before the idol in prayer. It had taken him a while to find his rosary amongst boxes of things in his airship; as soon as he'd held it in his grasp it had lent him strength.

Standing up himself he crossed himself before heading for the door through which he had entered. It was a long walk back to the Raven but it was what he needed, it would give him time to clear his head and think over what Father O'Mara had said to him.

As the first golden strands of dawn began to unravel themselves across the sky the birds of summer began to awaken. Their throats filled with song that drifted in the air and spread to other birds that joined their chorus. Some birds took to their wings and glided on the warm morning breeze that drifted in from the East. When they met with other birds they would give chase or would fly around them without a care in the world. In their excursions they little suspected that anything foul could befall them. In their carelessness they were ill prepared for the razor sharp talons of a falcon that had chosen them to fill her ravenous belly.

Having taken her fill of food for the time being the falcon flew from its resting place in a tree towards a place that she had long thought of as home. It had been a long time since she'd been here but now she'd returned with a singular thought in her tiny mind, to be reunited with the girl that had saved her life and reared her from a chick.

Flying around her home the falcon tried to peer in through the windows in case anyone would see her or she would see them but two windows were smeared with something that blocked her vision. With great care she landed on a wing of the airship and tried to see through a window that had not a mark upon it with her excellent vision. Still seeing nothing she called once, twice and again but no sounds reached her sensitive ears. Had she been able to register the emotion within her she would have felt concern at the silence. Wanting answers she continued to call in hopes that someone would answer her.

Greta had been awoken by the cries of what she knew to be a falcon. Opening the curtains of the living room, she looked out of the window. What greeted her eyes when her eyes fell on the floating home of her friend shocked her, coating the windows of the viewing deck was a liquid she knew to be blood. In sheer fear for her friend and trepidation about how she could help him she ran from the house.

Standing beneath the airship she wished that Ché were here, he'd know what to do. Without an airship of her own getting to Sportacus was hopeless, there had to be another way.

She was about to find someone to help her when the platform of the airship began to lower causing the ladder to fall. Straining her eyes she could see the faintest tinge of blue sticking over the end of the platform. Wasting no time she climbed the ladder, she had no other choice.

AN -Ché's prayer translation: Saint Mary, forgive me. It has been a long time since I sought your comfort. I have done wrong and need your guidance. My friend was attacked; I didn't arrive in time to save her. I failed her. I failed myself. I blame myself for her pain, for what happened to her. Tell me you forgive me, that there was nothing more that I could have done aside from what I'd done already. Comfort me Saint Mary, forgive me with your holy light and take care of my friend, she needs your help too.

FatherO'Mara's response: Saint Mary will forgive you when you find the strength to forgive yourself.