And in the Garden, two lovers cradled in each other's arms beneath the languid bows of the yath trees and stared up at the strange suns and strange planets wheeling through the dense curtain of vapours.

Yesaria traced a bead of sweat as it trailed down his Master's scarred chest. Their lovemaking had always been passionate and somewhat fierce, but there was some added thrill here in the Garden of Zais. Mayhaps it was the open night high above and only being able to watch each other's movements by the light of the stars. Mayhaps it was the soft, fragrant grasses or the flower-covered hillsides over which they lay. Mayhaps it was the powerful innocence to everything in this magickal place. He smiled and laughed to himself, thinking somewhat perversely that it was none of these things. To be sure, they were all grand in their own right, there was no more magickal place in all of creation. What he enjoyed most was that there was no one around to hear them, which allowed them both let loose on the reigns of their playful affection. There was some sense of freedom and peace with all there was in the Garden when he lay, at tymes like this, with his robes bundled some distance away and his hair un-braided.

A gentle laugh shook his Master's chest then, and tightening one of his arms around the young body next to his, the daeva-man brought the other to stroke that flowing hair. "Such thoughts, my love, and from a priest at that!" Yesaria blushed deeply at this, and teasingly pinched the broad chest under him. "And what next, you devious spirit? Shall we chase each other like wolf-cubs through the fields of astalthon?" Hearing this, Yesaria pushed himself up to look at his Lourde's face, and in doing so caught sight of those wondrous amber eyes that seemed to capture and spin the light of the stars. He tried to bring an expression of mischievous affront to his own face, but only succeeded in staring as sweat threatened to trickle into his eyes. This his Master brushed away while continuing to stroke Yesaria's face, sweeping a few strands of stray hair back to the others.

For a moment, the young priest looked away, and a look of concern passed over his gleaming features. When the daeva-man saw this, he caught Yesaria's chin in the cup of his hand, and turned his head so their eyes once more locked to each other's. "There should be nothing of worry or fear in this place my love," he spoke soothingly. And smiling again said, "Best to tell me now, lest I be forced to tickle it out of you!" With that, he made a lively movement and began to tickle Yesaria who, after a moment of resistance, was rolling through the grasses, laughing and squirming. When at last they stopped to catch breath, they were standing beneath the yath tree, holding to the pinkish branches.

After somewhat normal breathing was resumed, Yesaria moved to embrace his Master, who flinched at the slight chill of the leather collar that was almost never removed now. The colourful leash he had been so long constructing hung down Yesaria's naked form, pressed itchily against his own with loose grasses and flower petals clinging to the sweat on it. Wrapping his arms around his Lourde's chest, and feeling those strong arms wrap around his shoulders, Yesaria hummed a playful tune to himself as the faint breezes of the night cooled them.

After standing together for some tyme, the young priest finally spoke. "What is the Garden, Master? What do we truly know of it? I have heard you betymes speak of its meaning and its power, but why is it here, why now? Who or what is Zais, and how is the Garden kept under Zais' power?" He turned his face to look into those amber eyes again, and his Master was caught by his sudden change in expression. The young priest was nearly in tears, and his hold tightened almost desperately as he pressed himself closer, seeking comfort in the warmth of his Lourde's body.

Hearing this, the daeva-man was somewhat taken by surprise, and for a short tyme could not find the words to say. He placed a hand to Yesaria's face, and rocked him gently while turning his own gaze to the far-off heavens. "My sweet childe, how might I explain mysterii older than this age of the worlde? I have seen...strange and terrible things that are to come, that might come to pass. Many of these are connected with this Garden. All I am certain of now is that this place holds some hope against ancient Powers that are once again returned to the waking worlde. The dreams of the Garden are meant in part to shield us from the ravages of the storms that are to come. When he arrives, we will learn more of what this means, when he..."

Hearing this Yesaria pushed away, and covered his face with his hands. Tearful sobs shook his slender form, and above them though unseen, the violet blossoms of the yath tree bloomed. Once more they had come to life through those tears. The air all about the two beneath the bows of the pinkish tree were suddenly stirred, and the smaller branches of the tree began to shake violently. Reaching for his young lover, the daeva-man felt the change in the atmosphere, and with one hand still on the priest's shoulder, he saw the moon overhead shimmer leeringly at them.

Yesaria noticed something in this as well, and when he saw his Master's eyes looking to the heavens and watched them widen with horror, he too looked at what might cause this sudden change. And so he peered up, unbelieving as dark fissures began to creep across the face of the midnight sun. It was as if someone had taken a hammer to the firmament and it was shattering like so much glass. The cracks continued to grow and spread, and just as he thought it would burst there was an incredible rustling in the grasses around them. The two leopards had re-appeared, and casting one glance to the moon, they shifted their glowing eyes to the daeva-man, who had turned to meet them.

Their fur was all littered with twigs and fallen leaves as if they had torn through the Garden in haste, and they breathed raggedly for some tyme before shaking themselves all over. Throwing one more fleeting look to the broken moon, they hissed, and their tails puffed out and thrashed threateningly. Their glowing eyes flicked this way and that as if seeking some stranger, and finally seeing none ran to the daeva-man's feet. As they proceeded to purr and meow sadly at him, he touched their heads and faster than Yesaria could watch once more they were transformed into their halfling forms, and in the place of two leopards now knelt two maidens, who frantically clutched and licked the Lourde's hands, until their meowing had come to a frenzied crescendo and he called to them in a calming voice to explain themselves.

Yesaria moved to hold his Master again, looking from his growing expression of worry to the two halflings. "He is near, o Lourde, and..." said the dark one in a high lilting voice, turning to her white-furred sister who finished, "and he is in great danger!" The daeva-man nodded to this, as if he had known this moment would come. Drawing Yesaria nearer to him, he touched his face again, and pressed their lips together. It was a long kiss, and there was unspoken peril in its fire. When they parted, the Lourde started off towards the Heart of Zais, but when Yesaria called after him, the two leopards pulled him back, though he struggled and cast them a furious glance.

"Our Master must leave now," the first called over the young priest's protests. "Where he goes you cannot follow," her sister pleaded. They wrapped their arms about Yesaria, and he lowered his head against theirs and wept.

The powerful voice of his Master called to him then, "Do not fear for me, love. Soon I shall bring one who shall help us understand, the one I have spoken of so much of late. I shall return, safe and whole. Keep me in your heart until then! Kara, Yana," at this the two halflings' ears perked up, "see that he stays safe and warm while I am away. I shall return soon enough. Farewell for now, my love." Through his bleary eyes, Yesaria watched as his Master turned to blow him a kiss, a strangely out of place gesture with this sudden rush of urgency. The young priest wondered bitterly if he wanted to understand now. But the cat-maidens nestled against him, and their warmth brought him some peace. It was then he saw their lips moving, and listening closely he heard the words they were repeating over and over as if in prayer. It went something like this:

"May She guide your steps, May She light the way
May She hold you close till the light of day
As all those on earth, and all within Her womb
Call back to life the Prince of Storm
And seek his shelter from this doom..."

There was a bizarre music to their call and response, and the tone in their voices as they came together to whisper the last line pulled at his heart. While Yesaria pondered this, and he looked up to ask his Lourde what this might mean, but his question caught on his tongue. He looked up in tyme to see two great wings of light tear out of his Master's back, and with a radiant flutter that sent glittering fragments amongst the lowly astalthon, he took to the air. Luminous feathers rained down for a moment, and something of beauty crept back into the worlde then, though it had long forgotten its own name. Once he had risen high enough from the ground, he spread those brilliant glowing wings to catch the thermals and floated like a falling star until he was only a tiny pinprick of light against the broken moon above. All the while shining radiant feathers continued to drift, marking the trail of his blazing wings.

Lowering his head again, he began crying anew. Terrible sobs racked his body now, and the two halflings began meowing their concern. He held them tightly, and for a while they rubbed their faces against his. All at once, they stopped, and again knelt, looking at the ground. When he moved to draw them close, to ask them why he felt a light, silken touch fall on his shoulder.

"Do not turn, young priest, lest this Garden vanish before your Master returns..."

The voice was languid like supple velvet. His tears ceased, and he choked on his next breath. Despite the almost overwhelming urge to turn and look, Yesaria stopped himself and bowed his own head in reverence.

It was Nathicana... the Lady of the Garden...