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15th Day of Ignis

128 I.E.

The next day, Arion woke up in an uncomfortably small pair of beds that had been pushed together for him. After going through his morning ritual of stretching followed by meditation, he was notified by Hannen that the advance party had journeyed across the lake with a number of ursar refugees to begin building a home there.

"Thank you for the news Hannen, and for finding them for me," Arion told him, bowing to his student. "I'll head over there shortly to pay them a visit."

First, there's one other thing I want to do. Arion left the room where the rest of the Peacekeepers were still asleep. They were staying in their own room just across the hall from the main compliment of soldiers. The rest of the dwarves had been stuffed into the tiny room, and were forced to take shifts sleeping since there weren't enough beds.

Arion gently opened the door. It was still early in the morning and he didn't want to make any noise and wake anyone. Fortunately, the room was completely empty, save for one bed. Bartholomew's hulking form was lying in the bed, and he looked up to see Arion as he walked in.

"I've been wondering where you've been hiding lately," Arion said as he strolled into the room, arms crossed behind his back. "I couldn't find you at all yesterday."

"An' I've been wondering if ye'd died in Olaraa," Bart shot back, rolling over and pulling the covers on top of him. "Without me t' bail yer ass out, I be surprised yer alive."

"Chipper as always, I see." There was a slight pause, and Arion was waiting for Bartholomew to say or do something. When he didn't move, he said, "You're avoiding me, aren't you?"

Bart snorted. "Yer annoyin', what did ye expect?"

"I meant more than usual."

"I'm tired of yer persistent desire ta help me. I don't need savin', ye pompous ass," the ursar spat, his voice tinged with annoyance. "How many years has it been? I ain't gonna say 'Yes' ta yer offer!" Bart lowered his head back down onto the pillow and draped an arm over his face.

"You don't think you need help when you're wasting all that time and money on alcohol, narcotics, women and men every night?" Arion asked. He stood a few beds away, not stepping any closer to avoid aggravating the ursar any further.

"Got nothing better ta spend my gold on. An' fer yer information, I ain't touched a drop in months 'til last night. It's mine an' I'll spend it how I see fit, not how some uptight religious monk wants me to! Ye don't know a damn thing 'bout me!" Bart sat up in the bed and swung his legs over the side. He began to lace up his boots to head out. He held a paw up to his head and mumbled something that Arion couldn't quite hear. "I told ye before, I ain't joinin' yer limp-wristed Order. Not in this lifetime an' I ain't doin' it in th' next. I'd rather have nothin' t' do with ye."

"Is that why you always seem to find me on the battlefield when a fight goes down?"

Bart was silent for a moment stopped lacing his boots. "I ain't lettin' ye take all th' glory."

"I don't want something as intangible as glory."

"Sure ye don't," Bart sneered. "Ye plannin' on jibber-jabberin' all day or will ye be a smart ursar an' leave me alone?"

Arion winced as a wave of anger washed over his senses, and he had to keep from getting mad himself and creating a feedback loop of emotions. He hadn't realized that the ursar's full name was such a sore point. He sighed. "I just wanted to see how you were doing, and how the trip was on the way up here."

"It was fine," Bart said shortly.

Arion shook his head. "Whatever it is you're running from, Bartholomew, you can't run forever, and you'll eventually have to confront it."

"Noted," Bart said dismissively.

Arion sighed. Bart had been drinking again, just like he said. He could smell the alcohol on him from where he stood. "I'll leave you then, since you're so unwelcoming towards your own kind."

"Ya, cut that passive-aggressive crap, monk!" Bart snarled. "Ye ain't winnin' any friends talkin' like that, an' I told ye before, I ain't one o' ye!"

Arion blinked at him, staring in disbelief. He shook his head once more. What did he honestly expect would happen coming to see him? "At least let me ease that headache for you. There's no sense for you to be in pain." Arion reached out with a paw for Bart's head.

Bart flinched away from Arion's touch. The scent of fear filled his nose and there was a heavy pressure on his chest.

Arion stopped moving, and his breath caught in his throat. "Bartholomew, what are you hiding?"

Springing up from the bed, Bart backed away from Arion, shouting, "Stay out o' me head! Stay away from me!"

"Bart, what did you do?" Arion asked, more sternly than before. This wasn't normal for Bart to be so afraid. Sure he had a tendency to lash out at Arion, but it was usually out of genuine anger, not fear. A series of images flooded his mind as he began to pick up on Bart's thoughts. Images of a place just outside Evergloom Woods, of the ursar disposing of the bodies of a couple of dwarves that he'd killed himself during the run from the Legion.

Arion's eyes shot open in surprise, then he scowled. "You murdered them!?" Arion advanced on Bart, balling his paws into fists at his side.

"I th-thought ye didn't read people's minds!" Bart said, trying to keep his distance from Arion.

"I wasn't. You're thinking your thoughts so loudly, it was like you were practically shouting them at me! How could you kill those people in cold blood!? They didn't deserve that!"

"O' course they did! The way they treated me, the things they did to me... they brought it on themselves!" Bart continued to back away from Arion. He quickly glanced over his shoulder to gauge the distance between him and a weapon rack that was placed against the wall, an act that did not escape Arion's gaze. "Someone has ta get rid o' people like that! Th' law failed ta do anythin'! All th' years I lived under their thumb, I was nothin' but a pest ta them. I couldn't let 'em get away with beatin' me when I was a cub!"

"You hadn't even seen them in over a decade!" Arion shouted. "No one deserves death!" The monk could scarcely remember a time when he had felt so much anger. In the back of his mind, he feared what he might do, but with Bart's emotions flooding into him, it was impossible to resist the rage building up inside him.

"Like ye would know anything! Ye stay in yer temple day and night and never see the outside world. Ye've never been mistreated or beaten by the people yer supposed ta trust, and ye tell me what people do and do not deserve?" Bart was panting heavily at this point, and spit dribbled from his muzzle.

"You're right, I haven't ever had those kinds of experiences. But I don't need to live through that to believe that all life, even the lives of those who hurt others, is sacred."

"Sacred? Are ye mad? Ye think that the life o' someone who hurts others be sacred?"

"Are you suggesting your life isn't just as important as another person's?" Arion asked. "You've certainly hurt your share of beings in your short life."

"Ya, that's exactly what I'm sayin'!" Bart yelled without hesitation. He paused, sputtered for a moment, then added, "Sh-shut up! Yer just tryin' ta mess wit' me head. Yer tryin' ta tell me I'm wrong, an' I won't believe a word ye say!"

"Everyone is entitled to a chance for redemption, even if they have hurt others. They don't deserve to die for what they've done. No one does, and neither do you." Arion knew that Bart never grew up knowing the Precepts of Xen, and he had no intention of learning them either, but to act out in cold blood was beyond logical reasoning.

Bart laughed at Arion. "Ye forgot one thing..." Finally within arms reach of the weapon rack, Bart lunged and grabbed a loaded crossbow before pointing it at Arion. "...the stupid can't be redeemed!"

The crossbow fired, launching the bolt at Arion. Moving with amazing speed, the monk dodged the shot. The bolt harmlessly struck the ground and tumbled through the air. Before Arion recovered, Bart grabbed a second crossbow and fired, but it too was dodged.

"Damn it! Stand still!" Bart shouted as he grabbed the final two loaded crossbows from the rack and fired them in quick succession. Arion dodged the first shot, but couldn't move to avoid the second. Bart grinned, but it quickly faded when the bolt bounced off an invisible barrier.

Bart roared in a fit of rage and frustration, the sound rattling the remaining weapons on the rack behind him. He grabbed a pair of dwarven swords, which were nothing more than daggers for someone his size. He charged at Arion, but even after stab after stab, slice after slice, all he was able to hit was air.

"Do you intend to murder me like you murdered that family?" Arion said without a hint of anger or fear in his voice. His voice radiated confidence, and he knew that he could end the conflict at any time if he wanted to.

"I have ta shut ye up somehow!" Bart swung and this time he struck his target. Or so he thought. Arion grasped the blade with his hand and held it at bay with ease. Bart growled and aimed for Arion's chest with his other blade, but it was easily slapped out of his hand by the monk.

"Do you really think you'd get away with murder again? Do you honestly believe there's any way for this fight to end in your favour?"

With a roar, Bart said, "Shut up!" His efforts to strike Arion were renewed, but each attack was futile. The monk was simply too fast for him.

"My turn." It was all Arion said before he finally went on the offensive. He ripped the dagger out of Bart's hand and tossed it aside before he struck. Bart was caught off balance when the first punch struck him in the jaw. He fell backwards with the force of the blow, then was slammed in the chest by a lightning-fast kick. The ursar spun towards the ground and coughed. Blood flew from his mouth and spattered against the floor.

"D-damn it!" Bart cursed, struggling to get up.

"Do you even feel the slightest bit of remorse for what you've done?" Arion asked, standing over Bart as he looked down at him.

"Why th' hell should I feel sorry?" Bart asked as he wiped the blood away from his muzzle. "I did what I had ta do, what no other being could do. I ain't gonna feel sorry for killin' those assholes either."

Bart swung out at Arion and tried to catch him with a left hook, but the monk proved to be faster than him by leaning to the side to avoid it. Arion's paws came up and gripped his arm, holding Bart in place so that he could firmly drive his knee into the ursar's stomach.

Arion wasn't sure what hurt more: to witness Bart's suffering, or to be the one to inflict it upon him. All the air exploded from Bart's lungs and he dropped on the spot, attempting to regain his breath. Arion did not strike while he was down, and merely watched him struggle.

"Have you had enough?" Arion asked. He stood poised, ready to strike again if need be. He was hoping that Bartholomew would stay down and that he wouldn't cause any further problems. "It's not too late to give up." He offered his paw to help Bart get back on his feet.

Bart roared as he lunged at Arion, tackling him to the ground. Claws flashed out and sliced the monk's face. Deep wounds opened up as blood began to seep out and tint his white fur red. It was then that Arion decided to cast aside his restrictions on his telepathy and began trying to read Bart's movements before he made them.

However, the other ursar was wasting no time thinking, and Bart hit Arion in the chest with an open palmed strike. He clamped his claws around his flesh and dug in. Arion gritted his teeth and tried not to scream as they tore through his skin. "Ye can't predict what I'm going ta do if I ain't thinkin' it, can ye?" Bart laughed as Arion writhed beneath him. "That's yer secret right? Ye ain't fast, ye just know what a bein' be thinkin' before they do it. An' if all they're thinkin' be how stupid ye are, ye can't react in time!"

"No..." Arion closed his eyes and gave a grunt of exertion as a wave of telekinetic energy hammered into Bart and sent him flying. The ursar cracked his back against a bed frame and groaned from the impact. "...but I can still do that."

They each lay on the ground, breathing hard and not speaking to one another for a moment. Placing a hand on the bed frame, Bart pushed himself up onto unsteady legs, forcing himself to stand before his opponent did. Bart began to stumble back towards Arion as the monk started to get up.

"Don't do it," Arion warned. If Bartholomew pushed him any further, he was going to end it. He didn't want to hurt the ursar, but the only way he was going to stop was if Arion forced him to stop. He tried to exert his will over Bart to put him to sleep, but the ursar's rage repelled him,

"I'll kill ye, ye bastard!" Bart said as he wound up for a great swing of his thick paw, claws and all.

"No, you won't." Arion caught Bart's arm by the wrist and held him at bay. "I'm ending this, now!"

If I can't restrain him, then I'll just have to disable him, Arion thought. He tapped into his powers and his eyes felt hot as he focused on Bart. All he had to do was shut down his senses for only a second, and then he could move. Bart's movements came to a halt, his claws only inches away from his face. That's all Arion needed before he sprang up and circled the ursar as he started to move again.

Bart swung his head around, searching the room to find him. Arion didn't give him a chance to turn around as he cupped his fists together and slammed them into the spot where Bart's left arm joined his shoulder. The ursar screamed, and his arm hung limply beside him. He turned around as Arion moved to strike his right arm in a similar fashion, and it too went limp.

I'm sorry for doing this, Bartholomew, but you need to understand that what you've done is wrong. In one final move, Arion slammed his palm into Bart's muzzle. He could feel the cartilage shatter against his hand. Bart groaned as he fell to the ground and landed with a dull thud.

He remained on the floor for a moment, breathing heavily and unable to stand up with his dislocated arms. "Ye bastard! Ye never were gonna fight fair, were ye? Hurry up an' finish me then!" Bart spat on the other ursar's feet.

Arion thrust his hand down and clutched Bart's head. The base of his palm touched the bridge of Bart's nose while the rest was pressed firmly against his brow. Only one task remained to make sure that Bart understood the gravity of his actions. He searched through the ursar's memories until he found the date in question, only a few weeks ago, when he'd slain his foster family the first night out from Olaraa.

"W-what are ye doin'?" Bart stammered, struggling to force each syllable out of his mouth. Arion had blocked out his sight and hearing, to make sure he fully experienced the memories he was about to force on Bart.

"Recognition is a powerful skill and it's going to take a lot out of me, but it'll let me see what you did, Bartholomew. This is going to hurt you just as much as it will hurt me. However, it is necessary, because I want you to feel what those you hurt felt when you killed them. Who was the first?" Arion asked idly, as if he were reading from a tome. He searched deeper into Bart's memories until he found the name of the first dwarf he killed, his foster brother. "Garen Stoutmantle, huh?"

As he forced the memory into Bart's mind, forcing him to view his murders from the victims' point of view, Arion watched from a distance. A dwarf wearing an eye-patch over his right eye was stumbling around somewhere dark and cold, just outside Evergloom. Bart was nearby, and he stood behind the dwarf, making sure that he bumped into him. Garen mumbled an apology and spun around to see Bart standing there. His face instantly turned white.

"It's okay, dear brother."

Bart's fur was mangy and disheveled, and the eyes were blood red as they viewed the dwarf from the infrared spectrum. His claws were extended and gripped a large crossbow, bigger than his head. The apparition leaned forward with a wide, toothy grin.

Arion closed his eyes at this point, but he could still hear the twang of a crossbow and the dull thump of a body nearby. As the memory faded away, he looked down to see Bart's face stained with tears.

"Please, no more!" Tears streamed down Bart's face. His thoughts were projected loudly as Arion held firmly onto his head. He felt like he'd had enough.

"No, you haven't had nearly enough." Arion focused again, and conjured up more images, when Bart had killed Neriti and Remi, his foster mother and father.

Arion couldn't watch what Bart had done to these dwarves. Instead, he peered deeper into the ursar's memories while he forced him to watch the Stoutmantle family's death from their perspectives. They had not been good people, not by any definition of the word. They stole from the republic, pinched money from their customers at their carpentry shop, and beat their children without any mercy.

But despite all that, they did not deserve to be killed the way they had been. They deserved to be brought to justice, though, and it was unfortunate that Bart had let his short-sightedness cloud his judgment on the night he'd killed them.

Why is everyone so bent on revenge? Arion mused to himself as the images ceased to play in his mind.

Arion pulled his paw away from Bart's face."Now, you're done," he said, panting. Using his recognition had taken a lot out of him, and it wasn't a skill he was very good at. It had served its purpose, and Bart was nothing more than a blubbering mess on the floor.

"Well, finish me then!" Bart sobbed. "Finish me! Free me from this, ye bastard! Ye did this ta me!"

Arion shook his head. "You did this to yourself, Bartholomew." He kneeled down beside Bart, carefully looking over his body. He reached out with a paw and brushed aside some hair that had fallen in front of Bart's left eye. "Do you understand their pain? And their regrets? They were not bad people, they just made bad choices."

"Bullshit!"

"Is that why you have so much doubt clouding your mind?" Arion asked, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. "They were just as afraid of you as you were of them, weren't they?"

"Shut up, ye braying ass! If ye won't jus' finish me off, turn me in fer my murders and let the authorities do it!"

"I don't do things that way," Arion said. "I know what'll happen to you if I hand you over to the courts. Besides, I can't prove your crimes, now can I? It'd just be my word against yours. I think you get the point though, don't you?"

Tears were running down Bart's face. "Why are ye toyin' wit' me?"

"All life is sacred, and now that you've seen the error of your ways, maybe you can try for a second chance in life. Start anew, not as Bartholomew Stoutmantle, but as an ursar like your parents."

The door swung open and a number of dwarves rushed in, including Helga.

"What happened?" She asked, "We heard fighting and came to see what was going on."

"I seem to have pushed a few too many buttons, and Bartholomew got upset," Arion told her. "His arms are dislocated and he's still bleeding a bit from the wounds I gave him. You don't think you could patch him up, do you?"

Helga stared hard at him for a moment, but Arion remained steadfast to what he'd said. She didn't need to know the whole truth as to why Bart was lying sobbing on the ground. No one did, except for him and Bart himself.

He cast a long gaze at Bart as a few dwarves worked to get him to sit up. Being thrown in prison for murder, or worse yet, being executed for it, would not teach him the lesson he so sorely needed to repent for his sins. Not only that, but Arion wouldn't be able to accept turning him in for what he'd done. Bart needed a second chance to redeem himself.

"Alright Arion. I'll take a look at him." Helga scampered over to where the ursar was sitting and she began to utter her prayers to Lumine as she worked her healing magics.

"Thank you, Priestess." Before leaving, Arion added, "Remember our talk today, Bartholomew. I'll make sure you never forget it."

He shut the door behind him, and a wave of sadness overcame him as he could hear Bart break down uncontrollably as he cried freely. What bothered Arion more was not knowing whether the ursar was sad for being caught, or for losing another fight to him. A door across from him opened up, and he saw Sionache standing before him. She stared at him with her brow furrowed in worry.

"Master, what were you doing?"

"I was just having a talk with someone," Arion lied. "I'm sorry if we woke you."

"I could feel everything you did to him. I saw everything, every single vision you inflicted upon him. How could you do that? Is that what you use your gifts for?" Sionache spoke softly, but he could tell she wasn't happy with what he'd done.

"I did what I felt was best."

"Isn't that the same reason Fyrin isn't with us?" Sionache asked coldly. The remark stung coming from her, and Arion found he couldn't say anything more. The ursar girl stared at him for a moment, then left him to his thoughts.

Why would she be so concerned about Fyrin after what he did to her?_Arion wondered. _I did what I felt was right. Bart needs to understand that he's wrong.

Arion left the base in a hurry, ignoring the stares from people when they saw his bloodied appearance. He needed to go get himself cleaned up and head across the lake. A few whispered knowingly, saying that he probably got into a scrap with Bart. The talk didn't bother him all that much, and he paid it no heed as he rushed through the city. He was concerned that the Sanctuary guardsmen near the center of the city, and the minotaur in their Quarter beyond that, would raise an issue with the blood on his body.

Fortunately, as he reached the shores of the lake, no one had said anything.

Arion stood on the shore and looked out across to the islands beyond. He could see the scattered settlements of people who had made their homes in the area, but the spot that interested him the most was the furthest island, where he could spy the small, tell tale signs of refugee camps being set up.

The sand beneath his foot paws felt soft and fine, and it gave way easily beneath his weight, causing him to slide a little here and there. He touched the water and it sent chills up his spine. It'd been a few days since he'd had a chance to wash himself off, and the fights with Odinty and Bartholomew only made it more apparent. He was surprised his keen sense of smell hadn't tipped him off sooner. Though the water near the shore was clear and he could see the reeds growing up from underneath the surface, with little fish darting around them, it turned murky further out. The sun reflected off the gentle waves created by a light breeze.

His reflection looked back up at him from the water's surface. There was a bruise on the side of his muzzle from where Odinty had struck him, and he had a bit of swelling on his cheeks as well. Blood caked onto his chest fur stood out from where Bart had gotten him with his claws.

Arion took his robe off, leaving himself in only his leggings, and folded the silken cloth up before setting it by the shore. He ran out into the lake and dove under the water's surface. The cool liquid stung his wounds, but it felt refreshing to be able to swim in it. He surfaced for a moment, and invoked a mental barrier around his head before diving down again. The barrier repelled the water and let him breath in the pocket of air he had created. He pushed himself down, deeper to the waters surface. The dirt and sweat and blood washed away from him as the water caressed his body.

It was so peaceful in the lake. It was utterly silent except for the movement of water as he swam. He took some time to enjoy it before surfacing again. This time he kept ascending until he was levitating over the waves, his toes just barely touching the water. Arion shivered as the wind blew across his wet fur. Looking back at the shore, he snapped his wrist and telekinetically grabbed his robe, bringing it over to him. He held the folded cloth reverently in both hands as he floated across the lake to the camps he'd seen.

Unfortunately, Arion didn't get more than halfway there when he heard someone calling his name. The voice echoed across the lake, carried by the waters. He looked back to see Marida standing there, shouting at him. When he looked at her, she crossed her arms and began to tap her foot impatiently.

_I hope this is important,_he thought before heading back.

When Arion returned to the shore, his fur was mostly dry and he slipped back into his robes. "What's the matter?"

Marida reached up and grabbed Arion by the lapels of his robe. "How could you do that to her?" she said, her muzzle wrinkling into a snarl.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The ursar tightened her grip and jerked him forward, bringing her face almost into contact with his. "Those visions. She told me what you did. How could you make her watch that?"

"I didn't know--"

"No, of course you didn't! That's your excuse every time, isn't it?"

Arion grabbed her wrists and pulled her paws off him. "What do you want from me, Marida? I'm sorry about Sionache but I didn't realize she would be affected by my powers."

"She's a wreck! After you left, she came and told me everything. How can you let a murderer walk free? For that matter, how could you do that to him? You essentially killed him three times!"

"It wasn't real!" Arion shouted.

"It doesn't matter if it was real or not, that's how it felt to Sionache and to that other ursar. It wasn't right."

"You don't get to decide what's right or wrong."

With a wordless scream, Marida delivered a right hook to Arion's face, knocking the monk to the ground. "Neither do you! Odinty was right, we do treat you like too much of a messiah, and look where that's gotten us so far. The Order is falling apart and it's because of your actions!" She took a step back and crossed her arms again. "If this keeps up, I will take the reins as headmaster. And should you ever so much as hurt Sionache again, either physically or mentally, I will end you. Got it?"

A silent moment passed between them, broken only by the sounds of gulls circling overhead. Arion was getting sick of his friends hitting him. The war was clearly affecting their minds, tainting them, turning them into the very monsters they were trying to defend against.

"Was that all you came here to tell me?" Arion asked, rubbing his face.

"No. The Highlord says he's just received reports from the scouts in Olaraa," Marida said before digging into her robe to pull out a piece of parchment. She handed it off to Arion. "The bulk of the Shadow Legion's army is moving towards Sanctuary."