"This is an excessive amount of names," Solaris sighed, examining the list Kir had taken down from the truth-spelled Oathbreaker they'd managed to capture just over two weeks ago.

"Lumira is staying with her new vassals, Lieutenant Kalesh is staying as a translator to give us time to straighten out his legal status as he could be called a deserter," Kir continued blandly, lips twitching as he watched Solaris nod along to what he was saying, still focused on the list, before the meaning of what he'd said sank in and she froze.

Anur wasn't the only one snickering at that expression.

"…Vassals?"

"The Hardornen soldiers she and Laskaris freed from blood-bound coercion," Kir elaborated, a rueful smile on his face, "The priests apparently had a very simplistic control mechanism, so she stole control out from under them while Laskaris dealt with the underlying Hardornen blood-binding."

"But it was too powerful for him to unravel and guarantee no backlash would fall on the Oathbreakers," Anur continued, "So Lumira commanded them to move away from the blood-mages in question, all the while apologizing for having to continue their enslavement for even a moment – and they could hear it."

"So the moment they were freed, while we dealt with the remaining blood-mage in Karse, getting those names, the others went to speak with them – and the moment they heard Lumira's voice they dropped to one knee and swore fealty," Kir finished, unable to hold back a chuckle at the memory of Lumira's expression when the appointed spokesman had made that vow in Karsite.

Laskaris had nearly fallen over laughing at it, so he felt he'd restrained himself rather well.

"…But priests can't have vassals," Solaris murmured faintly, "Our political system doesn't even have a place for liege lords and vassals…"

"But the Hardornen one does, and I'm pretty sure there's a portion of the law where a landowner can become a land-holding lord if a significant population swears fealty," Anur gave a hesitant sort of shrug, "I think… there's something about new nobility being possible when they're chosen by the people, can't say I've studied Hardornen law since my Collegia days. Anyway, that makes Lumira a priestess who is also a Hardornen noblewoman, rather than a priestess with Karsite vassals."

"That's not any better," Solaris grumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose before focusing on a snickering Kir, "And somehow, this is all your fault, I'm sure of it. There's no precedent for any of this!"

"There's not much precedent for anything we're doing, sister," Kir shook his head, "You can claim returning to the Old Ways all you want but things aside from that are going to have to change, simply because returning to the Old Ways entirely is impossible – new situations have arisen since then that need to be dealt with differently than we have. This is just one of those. Besides, it simply means we can shove off many of the details of having a refugee group onto Lumira, as they're her people now."

"Just assign them as her congregation," Anur offered, "None of the Firestarters have permanent postings aside from Kir, and you wanted to reform the Firestarters to be a part-time post, didn't you?"

Kir nodded and picked up the thread of that explanation, finally taking a seat at her impatient gesture. They'd taken their time returning to Sunhame, getting in just over two weeks after they'd left, and after settling the horses had immediately gone to Solaris' new office to report.

She'd finally gotten one that wasn't the antechamber to her quarters at least – the idea of a publicly accessible office being directly linked to her quarters had made Kir uneasy.

"Originally Firestarters were only called to their duties as needed, other than that they worked as parish priests, chaplains, scholars – whatever they wanted," Kir spread his hands while he shrugged, "I think that would be a much better system. We don't want Firestarting to be all that we do – that implies far too many purifications are needed per year. Even with the old witch-power burning practice, there were only 10 weeks of actual patrolling involved. It's a waste of resources."

"Unfortunately that will probably have to wait to implement in full," Anur settled in his own chair, stretching his legs out with a contented sigh before he continued, "Lumira's a good start though – Colbern may very well want to return to being a chaplain full time so he can kill blood-mages, and Jaina said something about being good at healing magics."

"Seras already is more of a scholar who happens to burn than a Firestarter who happens to be scholastically inclined, at least in his time commitments," Kir added, "Etrius would probably love that breakdown."

"Valerik – maybe justicar? If he likes plainclothes investigation so much?" Anur offered before laughing, "Though if all he's after is the bar fights maybe chaplain would be a better fit. Anyway, it's fully do-able, even with Hardorn being what it is. They just need to be ready to go after blood-mages in combat situations before finding another focus is practical."

Solaris was just watching them with a smile on her face, hands clasped on her desk and Hansa purring at her feet. "It is good to see you have a vision," she said, "It proves my choice was wise. Very well, Lumira is responsible for her… vassals. What sort of resources do they need? Shelter, food, the rest?"

"Jakyr was able to guide us to a mostly abandoned township – there are enough buildings in decent condition to provide shelter, and a fair number of the Hardornens know enough to build and repair more. Supplies for rebuilding – we'll need an accurate count, Lumira's working on that now – food between their own rather disgusting tasting rations and the stores the few remaining villagers had, they should be all right for a week or two but that will be a problem the soonest," Anur was ticking concerns off on his fingers, Solaris grabbing a piece of paper and quickly listing them down.

"There are a few in need of medical assistance, I offered what I could but a practicing medic would be better, a healer even more ideal but I know they are thin on the ground," Kir continued, "Clothes too, I doubt they want to wear those uniforms a moment longer than they need to. Weapons someday, but only if they ask – we don't want them thinking all we want them for is as an additional fighting force. The township now has more people than plantings, so some seed in the spring to get them started, we'll also need to find out their crafts and skills so we can figure out how to get them the resources they need to sustain themselves."

"If some decide to fight, we could work it as a Sunsguard chapter, use them as a model for the mercenaries we're going to have to hire – pay comparable, of course, so long as they sign a similarly restrictive contract," Solaris offered, adding that to the list. "Right – you still have my authorization? Word should have spread but there's a chance people won't believe you are my Voice."

"I could hardly lose it," Kir replied dryly, Solaris snorting and holding the list out for him to take, "Check that over, outside there's a group of runners so hand that off and have it sent to the charity group, they know how to deal with things like this though the scale is larger than they're used to. Supplies to that oasis are already en route along with a replacement priest – skilled in mage-sight, as you suggested."

"Excellent," Kir smiled, looking up from the list and passing it to Anur for him to review, "In a week I'd like to return to the 62nd, ideally with another priest or acolyte to serve as a replacement when I'm called away."

"And also you'll have been in Sunhame for more than ten days this year, the horror," Solaris scoffed, a smile on her face as she waved his half-hearted protests off, "No, no. Don't bother, it's the truth. Clear it with your Firestarters and I'll figure out your replacement myself – the collaboration across the border is essentially known, yes?"

"Everyone knows," Kir agreed.

"Right, that will make it a little more difficult," she nodded, "But I have some ideas. Younger than you, so there's no question of who has seniority, male because I just don't want to deal with the mess that could cause with the Sunsguard not allowing women – actually… I think that will work. I'll let you know when I figure it out."

"As for when I'll need you back," she continued, grimacing, "It depends on how much you think can be done this week. I want to assign you as my liason to the Generals, there are a few I think need to be encouraged into immediate retirement, while some will be manageable for a while."

"Are they all present in Sunhame?" Kir asked, and at her nod continued, "Then call a meeting with them at your convenience, I'll be there and you can transfer their dealings over to me publically and we'll work from there. Still planning to disband the majority of the internal policing and arm the populace pending investigation?"

"Indeed, with them thinking about what sort of things we truly need guilded mercenaries for and what we should be able to handle with our available troops. We'll also need to get trusted assessments of the officers, then leave building the units up again with good people to them. We'll table the opening Sunsguard to women issue for a while – meaning years," Solaris grumbled.

"The Temple was not built in a day, sister," Kir laughed, "Though might I suggest announcing that priests can communicate with their families again? It will be some unequivocably good news."

"I was planning to model it after the Sunsguard cadet contact rules for the acolytes and initiates, with priests being as much or as little as they want to fit around their duties – adequate?"

"More than," Anur grinned, Solaris nodding and cracking her neck, checking the water-clock and sighing, "Almost time for the noon service – I'll announce it then."

"Then we'll leave you to your preparations," Kir said, standing and taking the list of needed resources back from Anur.

"And I'll speak with you later. Vkandis bless, brother."

"Vkandis protect and guide, sister."

***===***pagebreak***===***

The runner parroted the instructions back at them before bowing and darting off, Anur shaking his head ruefully at the sight of two entire benches' worth of initiates waiting for their chance to relay a message from Her Most Holy. "At least it's not stifling anymore," he offered, sidestepping around a pair of priests in deep discussion of how to liquidate some of the more horrifically gaudy ornamentation. He approved.

Kir smiled, "It's much better," he agreed, the two of them slipping out a side door into the gardens. "And with as much work as there is to be done, it should be sustainable for some time, long enough for people to settle into their new duties in truth, rather than just in an effort to avoid thinking."

"Except for you," Anur pointed out dryly, "As I doubt we're going to be in Sunhame more frequently than absolutely necessary."

"Two weeks every two moons, I think should be plenty. With a week total travel time, thanks to our horses, that will only be three out of eight away from the 62nd, give or take a few days. Emergencies Kari can relay for us, or Hansa if Solaris has need of us," Kir shrugged, "Once the others are out of Sunhame it will be easier, as I can check on them en route, and the more they're out of Sunhame the fewer reasons we'll have to return."

"At least until Solaris summons you because she will, if you stay afield too long."

"I know," Kir sighed, "But I can still put it off as long as possible."

"Why do you hate Sunhame so much?" Anur finally asked, having been chewing over the idea while they meandered back towards the city in as winding a route Kir could excuse. "It's not the politics, not entirely – and the memories doesn't make much sense either, unless there's something you're not telling me – "

Kir laughed at his warning tone, shaking his head, "Because Sunlord forbid I manage to keep some of my life story from you! No Anur, no deeply repressed trauma in the city, no memories I can't bear to face. Sunhame is just – it's noisy."

Anur stared, nonplussed, and ran that response over in his head a few times before asking incredulously, "It's noisy? Kir – even with the bustle this is quieter than the barracks have been some days, and you never mentioned it bothering you then!"

He waved an arm to encompass the District – bustling in comparison to what they'd found walking in those unbelievably short weeks ago, but still there was plenty of space between them and the next person, no chance of hearing anything more distinct than a low murmur unless someone shouted. The 62nd had it's moments of relative peace, true, more than not, but there had been plenty of arguments and challenges and mindless chatter that had been hemmed in by the walls and just-below deafening at times.

Anur was loud himself, and he would hope if his brother was sensitive to volume he'd have mentioned it when he was blathering his ear off over one thing or another.

:Not loud like that,: Kir replied, the change of medium explaining more quickly than words could just what he meant. :Your voice could never bother me, brother.:

Anur paused before responding, honestly touched and letting Kir sense that before sending back :…Never?:

:Oh Sunlord - :

:Challenge accepted!:

"Not the sort of loudness I meant," Kir said aloud, shaking his head and giving Anur a sharp-edged glance that had everything to do with the conversation no one else had heard. "You remember how I described my manipulation of flames?"

"A hum, a buzz of some sort – but I thought you didn't actually hear that?" Anur's brow furrowed as he dug up those memories of Kir's language-impaired explanation to Griffon and the more recent and less detailed answers to Rodri's eager questions when they'd visited Axeli.

"Not with my ears, that's not – loud is simply the best word for it," Kir shrugged helplessly, "Everything has that buzz, Anur. People and living creatures just have… more of it. Wood, stone, fabric, even plants and animals – I can make them background noise, can ignore them more easily, but people are very clearly there and it's always changing pitch and volume because people have a tendency to be doing more, and then in Sunhame there's mages and others who manipulate natural energy and change that pitch so I can't ignore it and – it's loud."

"You don't like crowds either," Anur frowned, "Is that why?"

"Beside the obvious?" Kir replied dryly, indicating his robes with a wave of his hand, "One of the main reasons, yes. It's also much easier for someone to slip a knife in your ribs in a crowd."

Anur snarled at the memory, freezing momentarily before he hurried to catch up with Kir and demanded, "That was only the once, right? It only happened once?"

"It only actually happened that one time," Kir's attempt to reassure him left a lot to be desired and Anur vowed to never leave Kir in a crowd unaccompanied again because he knew what exactly Kir was leaving out of that sentence. Someone else had dared to try.

He'd get their names one day. And he'd share their names with the 62nd.

If he was feeling particularly spiteful, he'd make Nichter watch so he knew what fate Kir's guilt-complex had managed to save him from. That should make him properly grateful.

"Anur," Kir's voice was undeniably fond and he looked up, realizing he had been grinding his teeth and scowling at the ground. He shook it off and gave Kir a small smile, "I'm fine."

"I'm sure you are," Kir chuckled, "Come on, let's get to the Hall before you manage to set something on fire yourself."

Something about that idea lodged in his mind, left him thinking it over even as he exchanged greetings with the Firestarters they spotted in the Hall's antechamber – it looked like they were figuring out how many chairs they needed to replace.

"Do you think I could do that?" he finally asked, Kir looking up from where he'd been unpacking the saddlebags Kari had been kind enough to deliver to their room.

"What?" Kir asked, momentarily bewildered before something of Anur's idea made it through their mental link and he grew thoughtful, "I honestly have no idea. There's nothing really – known about what this is between us."

:Talia can see through Rolan's eyes and vice versa, there were tests done on it – and I can see through yours, Chosen, when you aren't consciously blocking me from it,: Aelius spoke up, :Also, they're bribing us with absolutely delicious hot mash. I'm fine with staying in Sunhame longer.:

:You'll get fat, witch-horse, fat and smug and lazy,: Kir shot back before returning his focus to the question, continuing, :Perhaps that should be tried first – seeing through each other's eyes? My range is as far as my eye can see – and I don't need to actually see to affect things, I just need to know where it is in relation to me…:

:So in theory if you were able to see through my eyes you could use that perspective to light things on fire,: Anur nodded slowly, pulling his own bags towards him to unpack too. Perhaps he should leave a spare uniform here? He had three, not counting the one he'd left at the 62nd, so he could spare one as a just-in-case gesture. :Though that could be disorienting – we'd have to practice just sitting down or something, not while we walk.:

:But if we could upgrade it to that – could you do something similar, I wonder? Look through my eyes – if we can even do that – and Fetch things?:

:I Fetch 'around' you in combat all the time,: Anur replied thoughtfully, :And you never set anything you don't mean to on fire, so there's some precedent for us not seeing what we're manipulating with our own eyes…:

:Either way, something to be left until we're with the 62nd again,: Kir reminded them both, :So let's unpack and work on something we can do while we're here.:

:Oh?:

:I think it's time I examine the acolytes' skills. And Rodri's.:

:Incendiary,: Anur said fondly, rolling his eyes as he followed Kir out again. As much as the title was hilarious, it fit all too well.

:Not just for Kir either,: Aelius observed, and now that Anur was watching for it he could sense a presence behind his eyes that seemed to indicate Aelius sharing his gaze, not just speaking to him. He couldn't wait to start experimenting with that – it sounded ridiculously useful and not just for tricking people into thinking he was a Firestarter or Kir could Fetch.

:Rodri, at least, is having at least as much fun with it,: Anur agreed, hiding a smile as he watched Rodri scowl at the small fire crackling in front of him. Kir had quickly found the three students of the Order working over some assignment or another in the library, and when he'd asked if any of them would like to practice flame manipulation all three had practically sprinted into the courtyard.

Etrius had listened to Kir's assignment and explanation – buzzing hum and all – to Rodri before turning to his task of dealing with different fuels. The storage shed in the corner of the courtyard had a minimal amount of gardening tools, the majority of it devoted to training tools for fire-based learning. Anur had honestly never seen that many massive chunks of charcoal in one place before. Maltin had done similarly, but had asked questions more in line with mage-craft fueled flames so Kir had simply asked him to demonstrate what he could do.

Somehow it involved music, and Anur was fairly itching to interrupt and figure out just what was happening with that, because it looked different.

Once he worked up the courage to walk past two experimenting Firestarters, he'd be right there. He just… needed a moment.

Or three.

:I've got you, if you want to come over here,: Kir murmured, casting a quick glance in his direction from where he was mostly focused on Maltin. :It's not quite mage-craft, there's something else fueling it and you're more likely to identify it than I am.:

:Witch-power you think?: Anur asked both his mental companions, taking a breath before briskly walking over to Kir, feeling the muscles in his neck knot up when Rodri's fire popped as he walked by.

:Not Firestarting or Fetching, I would recognize those,: Aelius told them both, :Give me a moment – it's subtle.:

:And I'm pretty thoroughly shielded,: Anur pointed out, listening to the probably original tune Maltin was playing on his flute. It was strange, for such a light instrument to sound so strident, so strong.

It called to mind a distant roar –

Flames surged in his minds eye, distant sparks suddenly scattering on his skin and he inhaled sharply, tar-scented heat searing his lungs he-didn't-want-to-die!

:CHOSEN!:

"Anur!"

Flames he knew, he knew those fires, blast it all he was better than this, carefully circled his mind and Kir's presence settled around him like a comfort, a reminder that fire didn't have to be terrifying if he was standing with his brother. He opened his eyes – when had he closed them? – finding Kir standing in front of him, blocking Maltin's flames from sight and resting their foreheads together, one hand curled around the back of his neck.

"Back with us?" Kir murmured, Anur nodding slightly and pulling back, Kir letting him go but continuing to watch him worriedly. He ran a hand over his face and exhaled slowly, "Well. That was – not fun."

:That is the most utterly bizarre usage of the Bardic Gift I've ever seen,: Aelius said flatly, :Never, ever lower your shields even slightly around that boy again.:

:Agreed,: Anur winced, cracking his back and looking over at Maltin who was watching him with worried eyes, and from the quiet behind him he wasn't the only one.

"Seems you've a knack for illusions," he temporized and Maltin winced, nodding hesitantly as he said, "I've been… told that. I'm sorry, Lieutenant Enforcer I didn't think it would – I've never done it on accident before."

"I was already tense," Anur waved away his concern but made a mental note nonetheless, because an out of control Bardic Gift was the last thing they needed. He'd have to figure out a way to get the resources to him without giving away his sources – not that he had many, he'd been friends with some Bards of course, but he'd never gotten into detailed discussions of using their Gift. "Wasn't so much an illusion as it was a memory, and that one's probably been overdue for a flashback," he elaborated, not wanting the acolyte to feel guilty about something he truly had no control over.

Not that his lack of control made it better per se, but he shouldn't feel guilty about it.

:You certain you're all right?:

:I'm fine, Kir,: Anur reassured him, continuing aloud, "Though I think I'll go make myself some tea – and watch from the window, and try not to think about getting set on fire," he grumbled the last, Kir squeezing his shoulder briefly before nodding, whispering mentally, :I'm sorry, Anur.:

:Oh please, you are the last person allowed to feel guilty about this,: Anur retorted, rolling his eyes now that no one could see the out-of-place reaction, stepping into the kitchen and letting a relieved sigh escape once the door shut behind him. :Not only did you save me in the first place, you're the only reason I can stand anything larger than a cooking fire anymore. Now get to teaching those kids. Aelius and I will try to figure out a way to explain the Bardic Gift without giving away our origins.:

:Bardic Gift? I don't believe I've heard of that one…:

:It's a special form of projective empathy, I think is how it breaks down.:

:Like the witch-powered Loshern sent our way?:

Anur shuddered at that memory, not caring that Seras was in the kitchen with him, reading quietly in one of the armchairs Kir and he had dragged in one of their first days here. That reaction could easily be played off as a delayed reaction to his flashback out there.

He eyed the kettle thoughtfully before filling up a mug directly from the tap and heading back to the window, dropping his chosen tea blend in – the spice-cake tea, of course. :Yes, like that one. Tea please?:

The glass was thick-paned and bordered with colored panels, but he could still easily see Kir look over at him and an exasperated sort of fondness filtered through before his tea was steaming. He beamed, knowing that even if Kir couldn't see him, he'd know, and raised his mug in a toast. :Thanks Kir!:

:Just drink your tea,: Kir definitely rolled his eyes before turning back to Maltin and directing him to continue. Anur was more than content to watch from the window and enjoy his mug of deliciousness. A much safer endeavor, that.

"His control really is marvelous," Seras commented after a few more moments of silence, Anur looking over at him and inclining his head slightly, certain the man wouldn't have interrupted the quiet for a rather obvious comment.

The older man chuckled, setting his book aside and rising to his feet, slowly pacing over to stand next to Anur and look out into the training courtyard as well. "I'm surprised you're not out there with him. I think I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen one of you without the other within arm's reach – and I don't think that's simply because neither of you trust Sunhame."

"So you missed my panic attack out there?" Anur replied dryly, Seras clearly startled and raising an eyebrow in a mute demand for an explanation.

"Maltin has a knack for illusions – weaves it into his music, if my guess is right," Anur gave a half-hearted shrug, "And as he was focused on flames…"

"You don't care for flames," Seras said, sounding honestly surprised, "Then why - ?"

"Because Kir knows what the hell he's doing," Anur snorted, "Amateurs are more dangerous than the best trained swordsman, and that holds in this too, I'm sure."

"Oh most definitely," Seras winced, obviously remembering some disastrous amateurs and their probably scorched – and apparently possibly explosive – fates.

They stood in silence a while, watching as Rodri continued to struggle with manipulating a flame Kir controlled without wresting control from him entirely. It was an advanced exercise from what Anur understood, and one that would be useful if the boy ever needed to act subtly against mages.

"Would you have killed them?" the priest asked abruptly, Anur blinking at the strange question but before he could ask for clarification, Seras continued, "The acolytes that were hassling Maltin. Had they… acted, as they claimed. Would you have killed them?"

Anur refrained from a flippant answer, but nonetheless hardly needed to think about it. Not only did Maltin in no way deserve that, those scum didn't deserve to ever have authority over another person (how long had it been happening, how early had Eshkal gotten his start?).

It was too easy to imagine a young Kir threatened similarly, treated as unkindly. It hadn't happened, he knew that, knew it in his bones, but Kir had few fond memories of Sunhame. Looked on the Brotherhood of Vkandis as a den of vipers full of true malice rather than an honest desire to survive, and wretches like those Maltin had been forced to deal with for far, far too long undoubtedly had a very large hand in it.

"Nothing would have stopped me," Anur said firmly, looking over and holding Seras' gaze, something in his gut telling him this was important, that making sure Seras believed him was vital. "It may have taken months, years, if Solaris had still forbidden it. But I would watch to make sure no others were hurt in the meanwhile, and I would kill them."

Seras' dark eyes seemed to be digging into his very soul, but he simply stared back. There was nothing to fear in his declaration, nothing that could be used against him.

Woe to anyone who tried.

"I have a policy, when it comes to removing threats to our Order," Seras said finally, breaking the staring contest and looking out the window once more, gaze clearly fond as it rested on his own student. "When it comes to removing threats to mine," he added lowly.

"I kill them myself, or I hire a professional."

Looking at Seras now, with none of the worry over the Order's future clouding his brow, none of the uncertainty as to just what this new Incendiary intended keeping him hesitant, Anur could believe it. Seras had risen to Second Order Firestarter, was held in high esteem and even affection by all the others of the Order, even Kir, who hadn't been back in years.

He had survived and thrived in the heart of Sunhame, and that took a ruthlessness Anur was surprised the man managed to conceal so very well.

"Why tell me this?" Anur asked finally, taking another sip of his properly lukewarm tea.

"Because I am old," Seras sighed, "I am old, and I am tired. None of the others have the temperament for it – Dinesh might do, but he has an old guilt in his eyes and I would not burden him unnecessarily. But you – some guilt you may have, but more importantly, you have him. You have his back, and you have him to turn to, should you think he would help, should you think you need help."

"Colbern?" Anur hazarded, Seras barking a laugh, "You would think so, wouldn't you?" the man asked rhetorically, a fond sort of frustration Anur knew all too well on his face. "No, Colbern has helped once or twice, but for the most part I've dealt with these matters alone. He is too straight-forward, has no patience for long-term traps."

"It's been that frequent?" Anur grimaced, "Unfortunately, I can believe that."

"Actually, not so much in recent years," Seras chuckled ruefully, "I rather overextended my reach some years ago, made me… hesitant to act."

Anur raised an eyebrow, hearing the hint of a story and guessing that Seras had never quite told anyone about it – making the lingering guilt and hesitation all the worse. Otherwise, Maltin's tormenters may have been dealt with sooner, though hopefully not quite so permanently since they were just arrogant, spiteful wretches at the moment with no true crimes to their names. Yet.

"I spend much of my time in the archives," Seras murmured finally, crossing his arms and watching Etrius expound on some point with Kir listening patiently. "Perhaps six years ago I was searching for some texts for reference when I found an initiate devouring dry old texts like they were life-water, taking a true joy in the work and I couldn't believe some archivist hadn't snapped him up yet, he had such potential."

"I helped him with a translation he was struggling with," Seras laughed softly, expression so very clearly fond it seemed impossible that just a few short minutes ago he had been discussing arranging the assassination of those he called threats. "And somehow every time I was in the main archives I found that same boy, got tracked down in the stacks to answer questions, to simply discuss something he had read – he is such a treasure. I had so missed someone with that fire to question, with that desire to know just for the sake of it, Sunlord that I managed to get him."

"He came to me distracted, once," Seras' voice was abruptly distant, a remembered edge of fury coating his words, "Distressed. It took some time, but finally he told me of difficulties he'd been facing – he was an orphan, you see. Joined the priesthood when he truly could have stayed away, because he knew it was his best chance to learn, to read, as he had fallen in love with during Temple lessons."

"How the others hated him," an ugly tone, that whisper, and as unnerving as it might have been – Anur could understand the source. "How they loathed, that this orphan boy, this street-rat, could rise to be their equal, to be their superior because he was, so very, very much better than any of them. And finally, one of them dared to threaten him, to go from absent-minded cruelty to true injury and Etrius was crying."

"You killed him," Anur said.

"I burned him," Seras growled, and Anur flinched, the scent of scorched flesh rising in his memory. "And made sure he knew."

"Does Etrius know?" Anur asked after a few moments of silence.

"Probably," Seras sighed, tension dissipating and the coiled fury he'd been fairly glowing with buried once again. "I waited a week or two after he had come to me, but rather immediately offered him a spot as my acolyte in the Firestarter Corps. The others of his cohort undoubtedly think he arranged it; keeps them respectful."

"Keeps them terrified," Anur corrected.

"Eh, good enough for my purposes," Seras shrugged, "But after I'd realized that – I knew I had overreacted. A few punches wasn't worth burning someone alive. He could have gotten better, learned humility – I've seen stranger, more dramatic transformations in my years. But I didn't give him the chance. I was too… accustomed, I suppose. To dealing death. To serving as judge and executioner, even in realms outside my technical purview."

:A few punches?: Aelius asked, aghast, and Anur was equally appalled. Brawls happened all the time, they simply did, and for a punch to the wrong face to result in being burned alive?

He may understand some of where Seras was coming from, but that lack of restraint – he couldn't. It was so very, very wrong. Perhaps not as despicable as those Nameless, as those called Oathbreaker, but that was only because Seras clearly realized he had been in the wrong, had stopped that behavior.

Had he been told that story before meeting the man, had he been informed of a priest who burned an initiate alive for punching somebody he was fond of – he wouldn't have hesitated to recommend that they be dealt with. Someone with that sort of impulse, with burning alive to be considered the appropriate response to a punch – no. Solaris didn't need someone like that in her reforms.

Hells, he had stabbed an acolyte, the only reason Seras wasn't turning that unreasonable fury on him was because the acolyte in question had acted against Maltin first.

"That seems a little… disproportionate," Anur said delicately.

Seras snorted, a bitter tint to his voice as he said, "Oh trust me. I know I've wound up a monster. But Etrius isn't. Jaina isn't, miracle of miracles. And Dinesh – Kir, Sunlord that someone like that could wear our robes in these times. That someone with balanced judgment, with clear vision could be Incendiary again – I'm so grateful that I could live to see it."

"Eh – you've clearly never seen Kir on a rampage," Anur chuckled, nodding slightly to acknowledge Seras' statement before he spoke.

The older priest simply scoffed, "Please. And for what reasons did he go on that rampage? I used to have reason, when it came to that self-appointed duty of mine. I would only go after those who truly did harm, but were too powerful for me to reach – Phyrrus was one. He went after Jaina first, but the Incendiary managed to divert his attention and paid dearly for it, though it's obviously worked out in the end."

"Verius was heartbroken," Seras murmured before returning to his explanation, "He was a summoner, and overconfident to boot, so arranging a distraction one night was simplicity itself."

"When did it change then?" Anur asked, making a mental note to one day drag the story of this Phyrrus out of Kir, because it promised to be a good one. Infuriating, he would bet, but good. Especially because they could laugh over how it had turned out the exact opposite of what that scum's desires had been in the first place.

"It was slow, as most of those things are," Seras sighed, shrugging half-heartedly, "It became quicker to occur to me, killing, rather than watching for a while. I… lost my patience, grew frustrated when I had to work around someone when I could so easily arrange for them to just be – swept aside. Colbern and Jaina helped, but with Colbern having even less patience than I and Jaina having enough difficulties it wasn't enough to keep me restrained."

"Colbern is fortunate, I think," the priest sighed, seeming to change tacks entirely, "Those he cares about deeply are his equals, he's never had much patience for the youth. Oh he would protect them, would defend them to the death, but he doesn't love, not like that. Verius loved his students, each and every one, and when they inevitably died or were sent off or made enemies his heart broke a little more. Kir and Jaina's bunch was just the last straw, I think. It was only a few weeks after the Phyrrus incident that he died, after all, a mere day after he got their Ordination approved."

"You were close with him?" Anur asked, honestly curious about the man that had trained Kir, for all he still felt he owed the man a punch in the face.

:Depending on the answer to that question you may want to rethink the punching plan,: Aelius pointed out, mind-voice still shaken and Anur didn't blame him one bit.

"We were year-mates," a rueful chuckle turned into a full laugh, the other man continuing, "We balanced one another out, I suppose. With him gone I got caught up in my mental games, my plans and intelligence and desire to know at any cost and Colbern stayed away from Sunhame longer every year, hunting down any excuse to do something he thought was meaningful without much care for what people thought about it."

:That's a no on punching then.:

:Well if we're all dead when this happens, I can't be burned alive, right? If we end up in Sunheart?:

:Can you punch someone in Sunheart?:

:Well Kir owes Kris a punch, so odds are good we'll figure something out.:

"Before you go after anyone else, if you feel the need to, could you ask me first?" Anur finally suggested. "I'm sure Kari would be willing to help, if I'm not actually here, but – your judgment is flawed, you admit that."

"I admit that freely," some remaining tension bled out of Seras' shoulders and Anur restrained the urge to shake his head in disbelief. "I hope that I won't need – won't feel the need – to act in such a manner anymore. But if I do – I'd greatly appreciate a more moderate pair of eyes."

"I'd greatly appreciate you having a more moderate pair of eyes," Anur said, unable to keep the entirey of how disturbed he was from his face.

The man saw it, and gave a regretful sort of smile as he stepped away from the window. "My apologies," he murmured, "For dropping this on you."

"Better me than Kir," Anur shook his head, but felt obligated to caution, "Though he'll know soon enough."

"I would expect nothing less," Seras said calmly, picking up his book and leaving, but not before giving Anur a slight bow that he really didn't want to consider the implications of at the moment.

Instead, he'd quietly freak out over how a punch could end up with being burned alive!