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Chapter 4 - The Order of Peacekeepers

22nd Day of Xenar

128 I.E.

The ursar could feel the light sting of pebbles on his backside as he sat cross-legged on the hard-packed dirt. The scent of freshly baked breads wafted out from inside the temple and filled the wide open cloister with the scent of yeast and wheat. Other ursar milled about nearby, talking amongst each other in hushed whispers.

Arion rested his paws in his lap and closed his eyes. "Imitate me as you clear your mind. Breathe in... then breathe out." The ursar took a long, deep breath, held it for a moment, and exhaled slow and evenly. He repeated it twice more, and the student sitting across from him mimicked his actions.

"Now Sionache, keep your breathing open as you listen," Arion said to the cub as he opened his eyes to watch her. "Clear your mind of all distractions, and focus only on my voice. Anything you hear or think is just a signal to concentrate more on my voice."

With the cloister as full as it was that day, even Arion was having difficulty shutting them out. He flattened his round ears against his head and did his best to blot the sounds out.

"You'll notice that my voice is getting stronger the more you listen," Arion said, speaking louder for added effect. "I want you to picture in your mind some place you've been before, or perhaps some place that you love and that always makes you happy. It could be anything you want, anywhere at all in the world. Get a firm grasp of that image, and hold it in your mind's eye."

Tapping into his race's natural empathy, Arion could feel the soft, calming aura surrounding the young ursar girl as a warmth washed over him. Whatever it was that she was picturing, it had helped to relax her.

"Here's the hard part. I want you to share that image with me," Arion told her. "Imagine yourself wrapping it in a big bubble before it floats over to where I'm sitting, so that it glides in gently and close enough that I might see what is inside of it."

Sionache's muzzle scrunched in concentration, and for a brief moment, Arion's mind was filled with the images of what she was picturing. He caught vague glimpses of the past, that she had constructed from stories her mother had shared with her. The image was amazingly bright to the point that his body responded by physically making him squint. Waterfalls fell off verdant, overgrown cliffs and rainbows appeared in the air from the spray of water as a river fed into a nearby village. The subtle taste of dumplings danced on his tongue. Whatever stories her mother had shared with the cub about Yasuragi, they had certainly left their mark on her.

The image was only a momentary flash in his mind, but it lasted long enough for him to see it. His eyes had closed, and he heard Sionache exhale and pant as the vision faded, like she'd been holding her breath.

"I'm sorry, Master," Sionache said, "I did the best I could."

"There's no need to apologize. You managed to get the image through."

The cub's face brightened when he said that. "Really? Is that true? I didn't think I could do it."

"Would you like to try again?" Arion asked.

The girl closed her eyes and seemed deep in focus. Arion could feel something nudging him in his mind, like someone trying to push or poke him, but no image came to him. Sionache tipped her head down and shook it.

"I can't do it again, Master. It took everything I had to do it once already."

"Mind if I share a secret with you?" Arion said, pressing a finger to his lips to tell her to keep quiet about it. Sionache nodded her head and leaned forward eagerly to learn something potentially scandalous. "I can't share telepathic images with other people unless I'm touching them. For whatever reason, the techniques my masters taught me don't seem to work."

"Eh? No way! But you're the strongest psion ever!" Sionache gaped at him.

Arion could only chuckle. His psionic powers were fledgling at best. The ursar that had trained him in Xenaria had been more powerful and much smarter. "You've never seen the Homeland, Sionache, but I assure you there's far stronger psions in Xenaria. They know how to utilize their gifts with greater efficiency and in many different ways than you or I could possibly imagine. I only seem strong because we're here in Olaraa. Far as I know, we're the only two in the entire Republic that are psychic."

"How come the dwarves don't have the gift?" Sionache asked, cocking her head to the side as her ears flicked.

"The dwarves are gifted, just in different ways. There are none in the world who understand the mysteries of the arcane as well as they do, and magic comes to them easily," Arion explained. He stood up and offered a paw to Sionache to help her to her feet. "The Xenarians are naturally empathic, and that means they have a tendency to be born with psionic gifts more often than is normal. But even then, you and I are oddities among our people."

Arion had been born in their homeland on the island of Yasuragi. Most of the people in the Order of the Peacekeepers that he led had been at one point. But there were a few individuals, like Sionache, who were too young to remember anything of their home, or had been born on Olaraan soil. Had it been his choice, they would have all been able to see Yasuragi with their own eyes.

No, you did have a choice, he corrected, You just picked the one that got everyone exiled for your sake.

Sionache tugged on his silken robes, snapping his attention back to her. "You need to stop worrying about things, Master."

He just smiled weakly at her. She was too young to fully understand what he had done.

"I am not that young," she replied, sticking her tongue out at him.

"You know not to read other people's minds without their permission." Arion ruffled her head fur.

"Stop projecting your thoughts so loudly then," she said as she smacked his paws away. She stretched and walked a ways away, then spun back around to face him again. "How about we spar a bit? Will that take your mind off your worries?"

"It wouldn't hurt. Did you have something in mind you wanted to practice? A certain technique or form?" Arion began stretching his arms and legs. Sionache was a lot smaller and faster than he was, and he needed to be as limber as possible to keep up with her.

She paused and thought for a moment. "Well, how about we give it our all? I want to see how I measure up to the great Arion Clothspinner." She flashed him a toothy grin.

"You're too over-confident. I've had years of training and have been honing my powers ever since. You've only been tapping into them for the last year or so."

"I think you're scared."

"You're an empath, Sionache Hibana. You know I'm not." He smirked despite himself to mask the unease he felt building up in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't afraid she would hurt him, but he was afraid that she would get injured.

No one else in the temple would try to spar with him if he was using all his powers. There was simply no way for anyone to do something without him hearing it telepathically first. It wasn't even something he actively did. Other peoples' minds betrayed them and telegraphed their intentions before they even acted on them. It was as if there was a constant announcement in Arion's head that he had to will himself to ignore. Not only that, but his mentally generated barriers provided him with a near impenetrable defence against anything they could throw at him. Only Sionache sought to push him time and time again, to see what both he and she were capable of doing.

"Come on, let's go then! I'll even tell everyone to clear out so we don't have to worry about anyone getting in the way."

Before Arion could object to her idea, everyone who was in the cloister turned and looked in their direction as a telepathic command rushed throughout the temple. A few murmurs passed between the ursar as Sionache's mental message entered their minds before they moved to the outer rim, near the pillars that held the roof up, or back inside where it was safe.

"That wasn't necessary," Arion told her. "I don't want to fight you at full strength. You could get hurt."

Sionache dropped into a combat stance anyways, lowering her body and bringing her fists up in front of her. With a flick of her paws, she beckoned him over.

"I think this is a mistake."

He stood at ease, not indulging the cub. He didn't want to hurt Sionache, which was simply an inevitability as far as he was concerned. Her powers had barely manifest a year ago, and she didn't have the strength to maintain them for long. She was winded from barely sharing a telepathic image with someone. How could she hope to stand up to him, he wondered. He'd deflected magefire and swords and even bodies with his mental barriers. The little cub, with her thin, lithe frame couldn't hope to compare to something like that.

Without wasting any further words trying to drag him into a spar, Sionache pounced. He could sense the subtle shift in the air as she walled off her mind and raised a mental barrier around her body.

Such an inefficient use of her gifts, Arion thought as he raised an arm to deflect a kick. It stung as the barrier, hard as metal, struck his unprotected skin, but nothing nearly as painful as what he'd experienced in the past. If she's always got a barrier around her entire body, then she'll burn out too fast. When Arion fought, he preferred to conjure a barrier at the last second to conserve energy. It was riskier, but it was a risk that Arion was willing to take.

Another kick came flying out towards him, but Arion blocked it with a shield of his own, not even moving a finger to defend against it. He saw Sionache recoil away from him. Hitting the shield had hurt her, and she was favouring the other leg now as she moved.

"Come on, fight back!" Sionache goaded him.

"You're hurt already and I haven't even done anything," Arion replied simply.

"So? I can handle it!" Sionache charged at him again, moving fine on both legs as if she wasn't injured. This time instead of trying to hit him with a kick or a punch, he saw a flash of light as something manifested in her hands. Arion didn't even have time to raise a shield as a staff of pure, kinetic energy slammed into his left shoulder. He rolled with the force of the blow and stood back up. His arm was throbbing and he was sure a bone was bruised.

When did she learn how to do that? Even I can't make kinetic weapons! Arion stared dumbfounded at the cub as she stood at the ready, holding a swirling staff of psionic energy in her hands.The other ursar in the room couldn't see the weapon she wielded, but Arion could see it clear as day. With her mind shielded like she had done, he had no way of predicting what she was going to do next. Alright then.

Imagining a thick metal wall encasing his mind, Arion shut out his thoughts so that Sionache couldn't read his mind either. When the next swing of her staff came around, he threw a barrier up just in time to block it before slamming her in the stomach with a pulse of telekinetic energy.

The barrier that Sionache had wrapped herself in had absorbed most of the impact, and she was only knocked back a couple inches by the force. She stood back up and spun her staff around until it was at the ready again.

Now it was Arion's turn to go after her. He ran at her, but before he could take more than a couple steps, she threw the staff at him like a javelin. Stopping in his tracks and raising a hand, he stopped it from hitting him and it bounced away harmlessly. When he lowered his hand, Sionache was gone, and the kinetic staff began to disappear.

Where did she go? He looked around for her but was stuck in the back by something hard. He tumbled forward, and as he rolled he spied her again with the staff in hand.

The cloister was alive with ursar watching and talking to each other. None of the other students had managed to best the Master when they were sparring, and few would even try to fight him when he wasn't using his psionic powers. They were amazed that someone so young could stand toe to toe with the most powerful monk in the Order.

However, Arion was noticing more and more that Sionache was getting tired. He could see the faint flicker in the kinetic staff she held as her will faltered. Her ability to maintain it was fading away, and soon, her barriers would fall too. All he had to do was hold out against her for a little longer and she'd tire herself out.

They circled the cloister, keeping an eye on each other. If she stepped towards him, he took a step back. Only a few seconds more, Arion thought, then she'd be too exhausted to continue.

After another moment of circling each other, the staff in her hands faded away, and with a loud sigh, she fell to the ground. Sionache managed to bring herself back up to one knee, but couldn't get back onto her feet.

Arion shook his head and let out a sigh as he walked towards her. "See, what did I tell you? Here, let me help you up." He offered Sionache his paw, but she refused to take it. "Sionache? Is everything alright?" The cub's eyes remained fixated on the ground as she raised a paw. Arion didn't see what happened next, but he sure felt it.

A burst of light and a sharp, tingling pain shot through him as he was thrown back from Sionache. There were gasps from the students watching the fight. Some made a move to go help the ursar lying prone on the the ground.

"Don't interfere!" Sionache snapped. Lightning crackled along the length of her arms. It faded away and once again she conjured her staff before taking a running leap at Arion with it raised above her head. She would've hit too if he hadn't raised a shield to defend himself.

"Yield, Master!" she yelled, attacking his defences as hard and as fast as she could. "I told you to go all out!"

Arion simply couldn't keep up with her. Somehow, she'd learned some tricks on her own. "Fine, fine! I yield."

Sionache backed away and let Arion sit up. He was panting, and his fur was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He'd been bested by Sionache before, when he first learned of her telepathic abilities and he was sparring against her without using his powers. This time it had come out of no where. He's never taught her how to create kinetic weapons or known she was capable of electrokinesis. He hadn't even sensed her performing these powers, either. Either she was more skilled than he gave her credit for, or she only practiced when he wasn't around, just to make it a surprise.

"I guess I was over-confident," Arion remarked, standing to dust himself off. "When did you learn how to do that?"

"Oh, I learned that ages ago."

"But you were exhausted from your telepathy! And again just a few moments ago."

"No I wasn't," Sionache replied with a cheeky smile. "I was just pretending."

"You tricked me?"

"Yup!"

"You. . . tricked me!?" Arion was astonished. "Why? We don't teach that kind of deception here."

Sionache smiled happily at him, not bothering to answer his question. "I'm going to go inside and have something to eat. I think you have a few holes in your robe to sew up." The confidence she exuded overwhelmed Arion's senses as she all but skipped away.

What happened to the sweet, innocent girl I knew? He looked down at himself, and noticed a few small tears along the seams of the silken fabric. Great. I should've taken her more seriously. Now I have to spend my evening cleaning this up.

He could hear some footsteps coming from behind him, and he turned to regard a pair of his students, Shinn and Asuran. Shinn was black furred and the younger of the two, but he had broader shoulders and thick legs that made him quick on his feet. Asuran, with his brown-and-beige fur and long ebony hair, had a thinner frame but he made up for it with his sharp mind. They both wore purple robes similar to Arion's, but had them cinched closed with a red sash that marked them both as elites in his order.

"Are you alright, Master?" Asuran asked. "We saw the whole thing. Sionache certainly gave you the run around, didn't she?"

"Yes. I'm wondering where she learned such tricks. I never taught her anything like that," Arion admitted.

"She used them on me when I was teaching her some defensive maneuvers!" Shinn said, "It really hurt, but I didn't let it get the better of me. She's still just a cub, after all."

"A cub that beat the Master," Asuran pointed out.

"Ah, well yeah. Of course."

Arion clicked his tongue as he stuck a finger along one of the tears in his robe. It was a lot wider than it looked once he got a closer look at it. "I'll be in my chambers if anyone needs me. I have to repair my robe."

He crossed the cloister and entered the hall into the inner temple, where the monks lived. The outer portion was used mostly for guests who were visiting and paying their respects, though they had been few and far between in recent years. On the inside, the hallways were lined with scrolls depicting calligraphy and other arts related to Arion's Order of Peacekeepers. They were written in the language of the ursar, Ursese. The cursive symbols were simple wisdom words or sayings that the Xenarian ursar had.

The largest scroll by far was the one at the end of the hall just before a set of stairs that curved up around a wall. On it was written the ten Precepts of Xen, the religion of the Xenarian people. Arion himself had written it when the Peacekeepers had arrived in Olaraa, though it was something everyone already knew by heart anyways. It had been passed down for generations, since the second Emperor Buran brought Xen into Yasuragi. It was the only reminder of the homeland they had come from, and of the place they had sacrificed for the sake of the dwarves.

When Arion got up to his chambers at the top floor of the temple, he slid the shoji closed behind him and removed his robe as he glanced about his room. It was the epitome of cleanliness. Every object in the room had a place, and Arion was only happy when things were in order.

A futon was placed against the wall next to a curtained opening that led out into a marble balcony. There was a bookcase that held only a scant few books while the rest of the shelves were devoted to his personal affects. His clothes were neatly folded and stacked in piles along the shelves.

A few errant parchments lay scattered across the floor, disrupting the orderly nature of his room due to a gust of wind that had blown them off the nightstand. With a single flick of his paw, the papers gathered themselves up in no particular order, ruffled themselves until their edges were uniform, and then flew back to their proper home on the table next to his bed before the weight of an unmarked tome was placed on top to keep them there.

A sigh escaped Arion's lips. All was quiet save for the ever-present buzz of the city and the muted voices of his students on the floors below. It was quiet enough that he afforded himself a moment to reflect on the day, and his mind was drawn to the mental image that Sionache had shared with him. He cast a momentary glance out the window at the sprawling city beyond. There was nothing but brown and grey buildings with huge pillars of smoke rising from the industrial sector beyond.

The view was nothing like the temples at home, full of streams and trees and squat, ursar dwellings. The dwarves were a very industrious people, and there was little in the way of simple pleasures like parks near where the Peacekeeper temple had been built. He felt a tinge of sadness whenever he looked out the window, and instead of seeing the misty peaks of Mount Tsuki in the distance, he instead saw only workshops and the gargantuan Lightweaver's Citadel, with its amethyst encrusted domes and large bell tower.

A loneliness that had nestled deep within him was roused by his longing for home and began to ravenously claw at his soul as he was reminded of Xenaria and of those that he had left behind.

Mother, father, Keri... I miss you all. It's been almost twelve years since last we spoke. Do you hate me for my decisions? Would you denounce me as your kin for all that I've done and for the shame that I've brought upon our name?

A few stray tears sitting on his eyes fell from their perch when he blinked, running down his furred cheeks. He dismissed the thoughts before they could further take root.

Time to get to work.

Arion plopped himself down on a cushion and pulled out a sewing kit from the cabinet next to his futon. After threading a needle, he removed his robe and turned it inside out so he could patch up the holes.

He was finished fixing it and trying it on when he heard someone call his name from the other side of the shoji.

"Enter," Arion said, and he slid it open with his telekinesis.

On the other side was Sato Kangae, an albino ursar. He was kneeling with his head bowed low. He wasn't as well versed in martial arts like most of the others of the Order, and wore a light-blue robe with a white sash to signify that. His wife, Akahana, had given birth to twins a few years prior to when Sato and the other Peacekeepers snuck out of Yasuragi to assist the dwarves in their war against the gnolls. When they returned home, the Empress had exiled them, and Akahana had insisted on taking the twins and staying with Sato, wherever his exile was going to take them.

Since then, neither Sato nor Akahana participated in training, and tended to other necessities like cleaning or cooking for the Order.

"What brings you here today, Sato?" Arion asked. When Sato entered the room, he could feel a pressure against his chest. The ursar was panicking about something. "What happened?" he asked, not waiting for him to respond.

"My son is missing," Sato told him. "He didn't come home last night and I'm worried what he's done, or might do."

"Did Fyrin run off again?" Arion asked. It wasn't unusual for Fyrin to slip out of the temple and walk through Olaraa as he pleased. He'd done it plenty of times before, but he'd always returned before dark.

"Yes. He's been doing it more and more since you removed him from the Order," Sato told him. "I knew it was best for him and the other cubs when I agreed to your decision to cease his training, but if I'd known he'd turn into a delinquent and run off as he pleased. . ."

"That's alright, Sato. I understand," Arion said, bidding him to calm down. Fyrin had been kicked out of the Peacekeepers when he'd severely wounded Sionache and several others in a fight he'd gotten into. The cub was violent, and openly delighted in the pain and fear he was causing in his peers. "Despite what he's done, he's still one of our people. I'll go look for him and bring him home."

"What should I do in the mean time? Akahana hasn't returned from the market and I don't want to worry her that her son has been gone all night."

Arion thought for a moment. He would have an edge in searching for Fyrin because of his psionic gifts, but Sato would have to search on foot for someone who likely didn't want to be found. He snapped a finger and said, "Go to the Lightweaver's Citadel and get Odinty to help you search around there."

"Do you think the Highlord will let him leave for something so trivial?" Sato asked. "I mean, Odinty has only been finished his training for a short while now, and he's still formally part of their military and-"

"Don't worry Sato. You're over thinking it. I'm sure Highlord Glowinglight will have no problem letting Odinty go search for his brother. Besides, they are twins. They are linked, so he should have an easier time finding Fyrin than either you or I combined." Arion gripped the ursar's shoulder reassuringly. "Now, you head to the Citadel, and I'll start searching, okay?"

"Yes, of course. Right away."

Sato left in a hurry, his foot paws sliding along the hardwood floor before he shut the shoji and sprinted down the hall. Even though Arion maintained a calm exterior, he was worrying about Fyrin and, more importantly, what he might do to someone.

<Asuran, Marida,> Arion transmitted via telepathy, <I want you two to watch over the Temple for me. I need to look into an urgent matter.> Arion moved to his balcony and leaped off the railing. He carried himself forward, using his telekinesis to keep him levitating through the air and hopping along the rooftops as he crossed the city.

Arion was able to move faster as he levitated from rooftop to rooftop, avoiding the bustling city streets below. It was bad enough being an ursar in a dwarven city, since the architecture was not accommodating for someone of his size. It was even worse being an ursar in a hurry in a dwarven city. He knew the residents in their homes or the business owners wouldn't be happy if they knew a giant bear was jumping around on their rooftops, but he didn't have much choice. He didn't want to risk trampling anyone as he barrelled through the streets.

Where are you, Fyrin? There were so many people around he couldn't get an accurate mental reading on where the cub might be hiding. He would have to rely on his sight. At least Fyrin would stand out, being albino like his father and his brother, but he would at least need to be in the same part of the city as the cub was in to even have a chance of spotting him. It was possible that even Arion would have a hard time finding Fyrin. Okay, think. Where would I go if I was him?

Unfortunately, the answer seemed impossible to answer. Arion couldn't wrap his mind around the way the cub thought, or why he always wanted to hurt other people. It was such a foreign concept to the way he was raised that he couldn't imagine living anything other than a peaceful, stoic life style.

Then. . . where would someone like Fyrin go in this situation? Arion came to a stop as he looked over the city. He thought about which areas of the city would have the least guards, and would make it easier for someone to slip around unnoticed. The town guard is always weakest in the slums near the Gushrum Gate. Maybe he decided to go there?

Heading west through the city, the buildings grew sparse and dilapidated as he entered the slums. Fearing that he'd fall through a weak roof if he kept jumping on them, he floated down to the street and began jogging.

Now let's see if he's here, he thought and projected his mind outwards. The population in the slums was much smaller than in the center of the city where the temples were, and it was easier to pick out each individual's life sign. He knew how Fyrin's read differently compared to the dwarves. There was less of an alien, arcane feel to it, something he couldn't put into words, yet he knew instinctively it was him.

To the northwest of where Arion stood was a cluster of people in the middle of a street. In the center of the group was Fyrin. Though it was faint, he could sense an aura of fear in the air. And it wasn't coming from the ursar.

Sprinting down the streets, Arion made a beeline for where the feeling was coming from. As he picked up speed, he began to propel himself with his mind. His paws left the ground and he began to move even faster with a grace otherwise unseen in his race. Sure enough as he rounded the corner, he spotted Fyrin in the middle of a group of dwarves. His thick claws were extended from their sheathes, and he swiped frantically at anyone who came near him.

"Who wants more, huh!?" Fyrin shouted. Next to his feet lay the bodies of several dwarves, their forms bloodied and drawing ragged breaths. Arion's breath caught in his throat until he realized that they were still alive, but just barely.

"Ye cocky bear!" one of the dwarves shouted, "Ye foreigners need ta learn not t' mess wit' the dwarves o' Olaraa!" The dwarf produced a knife from a sheath hidden in his tunic and swung at Fyrin. The ursar nimbly dodged the attack and swiped a thick, clawed paw across the dwarf's face. He didn't get up again as blood began to spill out onto the road.

"Who else!?"

"How about me?" Arion said, stepping into the crowd. The dwarves backed away from him and let him through. He looked to them and said, "Leave us, I'll deal with him. Take your friends and go get them some help before they bleed out."

The dwarves didn't question his orders, and hurried to grab the bodies of their comrades before fleeing down the street. They shouted obscenities at Fyrin and encouragement to Arion to beat the other ursar within an inch of his life.

"I knew you'd show up eventually," Fyrin said.

"Why do you insist on doing these things?" Arion asked. He stood facing Fyrin and kept his arms at his sides to not appear threatening, though a part of him figured it wouldn't matter.

"Because it's fun!" Fyrin replied, a grin appearing across his muzzle. "Have you never taken time to enjoy the simple pleasures of smacking around someone weaker than yourself?"

"That would violate the Precepts that we hold dear."

"That you hold dear!" Fyrin emphasized, pointing a clawed finger at his former teacher. "I don't care one bit for your rules. You bend them however you see fit so you can fight while acting high and mighty about it."

"Violence is never justified," Arion said in an even tone. He watched the cub pace impatiently back and forth, curious as to why he was growing more and more infuriated by the second.

"That so?" Fyrin sneered at him. Hus lips curled back to reveal his teeth. "You piss me off. You're just a hypocrite. The older students all told me how you jumped to fight in the gnoll wars. Violence is bad, as long as it helps you in some way, right? As long as its a gnoll it's okay!"

"That's not what I meant," Arion said, taken aback by the cub's words. "Even if it's a gnoll -" He paused, hesitant to say the next words. His teachings said that all life was sacred, but the gnolls had conquered their people, enslaved then, and slaughtered them in generations past. The hatred for the dog-men ran deep, back before Xenaria was liberated from them. Were the gnolls' lives just as sacred?

Of course they are. The Precepts say all life is to be protected and valued, and none shall harm it out of malice.

Arion cleared his throat and started again. "Even in the case of the gnolls, fighting is still not okay."

"Then tell me what you really meant when you said 'violence isn't justified'!" Fyrin roared. "That weak story doesn't explain anything. Prove me wrong!" He stamped his footpaw like an impudent child as he clenched his paws into fists.

"Violence is a last resort, Fyrin. I know we've been over this before," Arion said, his lips pursing as he thought. The cub's insistence was slowly wearing down his attempts at remaining stoic and he felt his frustration building. "We don't fight because we like it. We don't fight because it's more fun than talking through our problems. We fight because we have to, to protect what's important to us."

"And what did the gnoll wars have to do with us? It's just you trying to pick a fight and come away a hero!"

"I don't pick fights, Fyrin." Arion had to remind himself to relax his paws as they began to tremble in anger. He couldn't allow Fyrin to see that he was getting the better of him. "I never wanted to be a hero. Every other option had failed the dwarves. I had to do the right thing and help end the hostilities. I didn't do it because I or my students enjoy fighting."

"Oh, so that's why you spend more time training your students in martial arts than anything else, right? Because you don't like to beat someone up?" Fyrin dropped into a stance and went through a form, a choreographed set of movements consisting of blocks, punches, kicks, and other movements against a nonexistent target. When he finished, he made a sweeping bow that was a clear mockery directed at Arion. As he tipped his head low, he said, "I learned it from watching you, 'master'."

"Martial arts can be meditative," Arion said. "It also takes years to master, and the better trained my students are, the less likely they will fall on the battlefield."

"You see? This is what I mean!" Fyrin threw up his arms in frustration. "You're just making excuses because you like fighting! You hypocrisy pisses me off, and I think its about time someone knocked you down on your ass!"

He tried to attack Arion, but the psion restrained him using his telekinesis, firmly holding him in place. "This trick again?" With a grunt of effort and a roar, Fyrin broke free of his bonds and continued on despite the force trying to pin him. "You can't hold me down any longer!" he said, snarling through gritted teeth. He raised a paw to strike as he got closer.

However, the cub's paw didn't even have a chance to strike Arion as his arm went limp. Fyrin's eyelids closed and he fell forward. Arion caught him in his hands and eased his descent to the ground.

Footsteps came rushing towards him, and he looked up. He was expecting to see the town guard coming to break up a fight, but instead saw Sato and Odinty running over to where he was kneeling. Odinty was slightly taller than his father, and wore grey that were emblazoned with a golden sun over the chest to signify him as one of the Lightweavers Paladins.

"Fyrin! Is he okay? Wake up!" Odinty yelled as he knelt down to look at his twin. His hair was neatly trimmed and fell around his face, unlike his brother's whose was disheveled and messy.

"What happened, Master Arion?" Sato asked.

"Fyrin was fighting with some locals," Arion said sadly, "He wounded a few of them before I could step in and take control of the situation."

What would cause Fyrin to go out and seek trouble? Is this what will inevitably happen to all of us for being separated from our people and our culture for so long? Arion handed Fyrin off to Sato. Odinty had a worried expression on his face, with bags beneath his red eyes.

"Is he going to be okay?" Odinty asked.

"He'll be fine. I've just put him in a telepathically induced sleep," Arion explained. He ran a paw through the cub's hair, and it came away with caked on dirt. "He needs to be washed. I wonder what he found out here that kept him from returning home?" He noticed a few spots of blood on Fyrin's body, but didn't bother to point them out to Sato or Odinty. There was no way of telling if it was the ursar's blood, or if it belonged to someone else. "Well, let's not worry about it. Let's get him home."

"Thank you for finding him, Arion," Odinty said, and bowed low. "The Highlord probably won't like me being gone for very much longer, so I need to take my leave. Look after him for me, father." Odinty squeezed his twin's hand once more then left, the heavy leather boots he wore crunching alone the gravel road.

* * * * *

As Arion returned to the temple, he was approached by Sionache's mother, Marida. She had white fur, and her long hair tied up in a bun. Her soft face radiated confidence and she was one of the most headstrong members of the Order. Arion nodded for Sato to go on in ahead of him, and then regarded the ursar female. Sionache and Marida looked very much like each other. They both even had the same hair style.

"Why do you continue to allow him onto the temple grounds, Master?" Marida asked once Sato was out of hearing range. There was a sensation in the air that made Arion's ears flick, and he felt hot.

"There's no need to be angry, Marida," he said, putting his hands behind his back. "I've merely let Fyrin remain with his parents. He's entitled to that much at least."

"But he's a danger to us all! Especially to the younger ones!" Marida shot back.

"Has he hurt anyone since I removed him from the Order?" Arion asked simply, but the other ursar was having none of it.

"He hurt Sionache! Who cares what he's done since then!" She was glaring at him, and Arion felt like withering away from her stare. It was unnerving, and he didn't like the way she was looking at him. Confrontation was the last thing Arion wanted to deal with.

"Now, Marida I-"

"If you weren't always gallivanting about with the dwarves and trying to protect a country that doesn't want us here, you'd have seen what he did to my little cub!"

"Marida, please calm yourself. If I felt Fyrin was a danger, I'd never have allowed him onto the premises. I understand that he did something very horrible, but he's been punished for it. So please, put your worries aside. He won't try anything else."

"It is not merely his actions I speak of," Marida said coldly. He glanced over his shoulder as Sato carried his son across the ward. "His existence contradicts the very things we stand for. He threatens our very faith by being here."

"Marida, I don't think that's your call, is it?" Arion said sternly.

Marida's eye twitched, and she said simply, "If you were around, you'd understand the danger he represents to our temple. Your obliviousness to the problems in our Order will be our downfall. Mark my words." She stormed off, leaving Arion alone.

There's no end of troubles these days, he thought, breathing a sigh of relief once she was gone. She'll get over it eventually.

As his stomach growled at him, having been neglected most of the day, Arion decided it was time to have dinner and then turn in for the night.