CHAPTER XXIV
			UNLIKELY HELP 

Penitence returned after another stretch of unmeasurable time.  
He was much more composed, and when he spoke to me it was in cold, 
businesslike tones.  I realized that I had destroyed any hope of 
winning his sympathy, or ever proving myself anything other than a 
deamon.  No doubt, this is what my dark self had planned to begin with.  
     "To begin with, I apologize for my abrupt departure before."
     "It is I who should apologize.  I don't know what significance 
my words had for you, but I should not have said them."
     "No, deamon, the fault is mine.  I am guilty of being lax in my 
task.  When you have seen the error of your ways and have confessed 
and repented, then I will ask your forgiveness for not pursuing your 
rehabilitation with the utmost zeal."  Before I could say anything, 
he hurried to continue, "To that end, I have brought you these."  He 
revealed several tomes from a satchel that had completely escaped my 
attention before.  "These, the immortal words of Androjo Lance, are 
the key to your salvation.  I will provide you with light enough to 
read by, and we will discuss what you have learned when I return."  
He quickly rose, and turned to leave.
     "Wait!" I called, hating the note of desparation in my voice, 
but unable to prevent it.  Penitence turned back, reluctantly.  I 
wished I knew what lillies and a woman named Magra meant to him.  
It was obvious that he was uncomfortable being near me, thinking 
that I knew what I'd been talking about.  I knew asking would be 
pointless, and I doubted that my alter-ego would explain it if... 
when he returned. 
     "Yes?"
     "Th.. The light."  He looked like he might leave anyway, and 
I quickly added, "Please?"  It was a tone of such meekness that I 
was filled with loathing.  But, oh, how I wanted, how I needed that 
light.  Even if only for a short while. 
     Smiling, Penitence brought out a candle, and set it on a ledge 
on the wall.  I watched closely, like a starving man watching a chef, 
until he struck his flint to light the candle.  The wick burst into 
flames, and I screamed and averted my eyes.  I felt like needles had 
been pushed into my brain through my eyesockets, like the flame of 
the candle had somehow followed the light into my head.  When I 
dared to open my eyes a few minutes later, Penitence was gone, and 
the light no longer seemed quite as painful, though I still had to 
look away from it or risk it blinding me again.  I cannot describe 
the joy that I felt at having light, having the darkness pushed back, 
even if only a few yards.  I felt somehow as though I could breath 
easier, and I felt grateful to Penitence for allowing me to have 
this respite.
     After basking in the wonderous light of the candle for a while, 
I eagerly sat to the task of reading, glad to have something to 
relieve the monotony of my imprisonment.  
     I suddenly realized what I was doing, and I cast the book aside 
but not, I'm afraid to admit, too far aside.  I had found myself 
nodding as I read, actually trying to agree with the book, a book, I 
might add, written by the xenophobic Androjo Lance himself!  And why?  
Because the books brought the light.  The books brought light, and 
something to occupy my thoughts, and Penitence brought the books and 
the light.  I knew then that if I was going to escape, I had to do it 
soon.  I'd always had confidence in my willpower, in my strength of 
mind and body, but I saw plainly that a few more endless weeks of 
captivity would have me meekly obeying them.  I'd say what they wanted 
me to say, do what they wanted me to do, believe anything they wanted 
me to believe.  And the worst part was that I could see them doing it, 
but I couldn't fight it.  How do you fight when your heart betrays you?  
Pain I could tolerate.  Hatred I could deal with.  But this strange 
torment, this game of postures, was eating away at my confidence, 
devouring my will and self-control.  I sat in the flickering light and 
tried my best not to be grateful for it.  I was almost relieved when 
it finally burned out.  My relief, however, only lasted as long as 
it took for despair to set in, as the darkness swarmed in to consume 
the light.
     Penitence came twice again, and we discussed the "holy words of 
Lance."  I found that I almost had to fight to speak my true opinions, 
and I cringed at the thought that Penitence might not leave me the 
light my soul craved.  He did, for which I was unwillingly grateful, 
but both times he made me ask for it.  I could tell that he was un-
comfortable around me still, and that at least part of him was 
enjoying this new torture.  I found myself cursing my dark half, even 
as I wished for his return.
     I stopped finding pills in my food, which worried me greatly.  
Somehow I doubted that they'd stopped trying to drug me.  I watched 
myself for any sign of a drug's influence, though what I expected to 
do about it I'm still not sure.  Just more torment in the dark.  
Penitence visited a few more times, routinely and without event.
     Then, during one of his visits, Penitence made reference to me 
as a deamon, and I forced myself to correct him, though I'd let 
several previous mentions pass.  Penitence exploded.
     "I thought I was making progress with you!  How can you hope to 
find salvation if you continue to cling to this delusion of humanity!  
LOOK at you!  You're covered in fur, and you have a face that could make 
onions weep.  By Lance, you don't look like you should be converted, you 
look like you should be displayed in a freak show!  How could anyone in 
their right mind mistake you for anything other than a deamon?"  He 
stormed to the door, slamming the bars behind him.
     And there it was, my fear confirmed.  The darkness closed in around 
me, smothering me, drowning my hope.  I knew it was my imagination, but 
it seemed that breathing became more difficult.  The dark pressed in on 
all sides, and I could actually feel it draining me of will, eagerly, 
hungrily drinking in my life.  I began trembling, and I couldn't make 
myself stop.  I tried with little success to convince myself that it was 
merely the cold.
     I woke again when Penitence returned.  His face seemed frozen in a 
stern frown.
     "Since you refuse to cooperate with me, I'm afraid I must resort to 
stronger measures.  I had hoped you wouldn't have to go through this."  
He pulled out a candle, and a small red ball.  He lit the candle, and 
the darkness receeded, leaving me room to breath.  "What color is this 
ball?"  He asked.
     "Red." I answered, wondering why he asked, not yet knowing the evil 
he had in store for me.
     "That is incorrect.  The ball is blue."
     "But... The ball is red!  It's obviously red."
     "I'm sorry, but you are wrong.  You will not be fed again until you 
can be persuaded to tell the truth.  Furthermore, I am taking your books, 
as it is obvious that you are not using them.  This, naturally, means that 
you will not be needing extra light to read by." He turned on his heel and 
left, taking the candle with him, not saying a word.  In a way, I was 
grateful.  He hadn't given me the chance to plead with him, and I wasn't 
certain that I could have refrained from abject begging.
     It didn't take long for my hunger to make itself known, but that, at 
least, I knew how to deal with.  What I didn't understand was this new 
game that Penitence was playing.  It was completely obvious that the ball 
was red, so why did he insist it was blue?  After a time, I began 
wondering if I had seen correctly.  Was I going color-blind?  I tried to 
catch a strand of my mane to see if it looked blue, but I could barely 
get it into my field of vision.  I judged it to be a space of four days 
before Penitence returned, though my sense of time was no longer reliable.  
The hunger was still easily bearable, but I knew this would not be the 
case for much longer.  When he returned he brought a candle, which he lit, 
causing blinding agony, though I could not look away, for even as the light 
blinded me, it filled me with an almost tangible sustenence.  When I could 
finally bear to look away, Penitence again brought out his ball.

     It was blue.        

     I eagerly agreed that the ball was blue, and Penitence tossed me a 
large scrap of meat, which I ate so quickly I didn't bother identifying 
the animal it came from.  Not that it mattered, I wasn't about to refuse it.  
Penitence didn't say anything, just turned and left, leaving the candle burn-
ing brightly.  My spirits soared.  Even after the candle finally guttered and 
died, I was still suffused with warmth and simple pleasure.  I soon felt very 
drowsy, and moments later I was deeply asleep. 
     I woke, feeling rather relaxed and happy.  Penitence came and we talked 
some more, though later I could not have said what we talked about.  He 
brought more of the delicious food, which I quickly devoured.  Penitence 
patted me on the head as he left and praised me for the progress we were 
making.
     After a while my euphoria wore thin, and I realized how desperately 
hungry I was.  I could hardly wait for Penitence to return.  When he did 
return, however, it was to a repeat of his earlier performance.  He pro-
duced a ball, this one green, and he asked me to name its color.  I 
hesitantly answered green, but he informed me it was red.  Before I could 
correct myself, for by then I was hardly confident in my answer, Penitence 
left.  This time, though, I knew what was coming, and the walls echoed with 
my scream.  I thrashed and raged and sobbed, and when Penitence returned, 
bearing the same green ball, I assured him that it was red.  
     This time, however, I watched him closely, and when he tossed me a few 
strips of dried meat, I saw that he had more.  With no hesitation I grabbed 
him, pinned him to the ground and silenced his protests and cries for help.  
I greedily devoured what he had given me, and took the other ten strips he 
had left, resolving to set them aside and eat them sparingly.  Thus 
satisfied, I pushed Penitence away, and when he crawled out the door, I 
made no move to stop him.
     I soon found, however, that the food was just too tempting.  I ate one 
more, telling myself that one couldn't hurt.  Soon, though, I wanted another, 
and before I realized it, all were gone.  Ah, but by then I hardly cared.  I 
felt so good, warm and blissful and dreamy.
     Penitence came in and asked if I would like to dance.  I told him that I 
should love to dance, but I feared that I didn't know how.  He assure me that 
it didn't matter, and when the music started I went with it.  Penitence and I 
danced for hours, but Palas wanted to dance too, so we traded partners.  She 
danced with Jolan and Diana started dancing with me.  Diana looked beautiful, 
even in the dim torch-light.  She was wearing a dress of emerald green, made 
of cloth that caught the light and threw it back in tiny shimmers.
     The music stopped, and suddenly Penitence and I were alone.  Penitence 
grinned a malevolent grin and started juggling multicolored balls, first one, 
then two, then working his way up to five, red, blue, green, yellow and 
orange.  As he juggled them faster and faster, he kept asking me to tell 
which one was in his hand.  Everytime I answered a moment too late, and the 
ball passed from his hand into the air to be replaced by another, gone just 
as quickly.  He increased the speed of his juggling, until the balls became 
a blur.  The colors merged and faded to gray, becoming and iron collar 
around my neck, choking me.  The others appeared beside me, Diana, Jolan, 
Palas, Felin, Kiaphas, even Agnon and Merri were there.  We were caught 
together in a web of iron, as Penitence, eight-legged, crawled toward us 
one by one and drained the blood from us.  He looked up from Palas, his 
face dripping with gore, and looked hungrily at Diana.  As he moved slowly 
towards her, she screamed and looked to me for help.  I struggled to escape, 
but the more I tried, the tighter the collar encircled my neck.
     Penitence danced among the lillies, chanting verses from his books.  
Birds and small animals gathered around us, as he waved a book over my head 
and spoke the words of Lance.  I looked down, and found my fur replaced with 
smooth, white skin.  I felt my face and found an unfamiliar projection where 
my muzzle should have been.  Penitence handed me clothing, which I struggled 
into.  
     "My work here is done!, Be free, my son!" He rhymed madly, and vanished.  
I looked down at my human body, rejoicing in my new freedom.  I turned to 
leave, but a lion blocked my path.  My vision blurred, and I found myself 
looking from the lion's eyes, even as I saw through my own.  I raised my 
sword in warning, I lept at the human, and he/we/I pierced me with the 
bright sharp stick.  We fell to the ground, his teeth around my throat, my 
roar in his ears.  
     I was back in my cell, and for a moment everything was normal.  I looked 
down, and to my relief, I was my usual self.  I could only imagine that I had 
fallen asleep somehow, and simply had disturbing dreams, but that explanation 
didn't seem quite satisfactory.  The temperature dropped rapidly.  My teeth 
chattered, and moisture began beading on the walls.  Fog began creeping 
slowly into my cell.  Dark figures moved through the fog, and I was reminded 
of Nadair Shadia.  A new chill slipped into my marrow, one which had little 
to do with the frost forming on the walls.  The door to my cell swung open, 
and the shadow-wrapped figures stepped inside.  They gathered in a half-
circle, surrounding me, ignoring my frantic cries for help.  I know not why, 
but the sight of those shrouded forms filled me with a hither-to unknown 
dread.
     "Firemane," the nearest intoned, "The time has come."
     I screamed for help, but none came.  They gathered closer, slowly, 
menacingly, shuffling towards me.  I closed my eyes and scrunched against the 
wall, knowing there was no escape, waiting for the first icy hand to touch me.
     The dreaded touch never came.  I opened my eyes to find the spectres 
held back by the flame-haired leonoid of my hallucinations.
     "You can't have him!" The dark one roared, "He's mine!"  He turned to 
me.  "Come, take my hand.  We can beat them all.  Together.  As we were meant 
to be."  The shrouded figures cast off their hoods.  Palas, Jolan, Merri, 
they revealed themselves to me, kindness and mercy plain on every face.  "It 
is a trick.  Ignore them, they were sent by Penitence."  My alter-ego warned.  
The last figure disrobed completely, and Diana stood before me.  My hopes 
soared and crashed within a matter of seconds.  I knew my dark side was 
telling the truth, that none of this was real, just another sick mind game 
Penitence was playing with me.  I felt true anger rising within me for the 
first time in days, perhaps weeks.  I reached out to my dark side with my 
anger, and took his hand in mine.
     "So be it."  I said, before we became one, and all thought flew from my 
mind.