"Drained. Exhausted. Empty."

Vartanil nodded. He felt the same way. "But that will pass, and we will be free of Ulrezaj's deception. The Sundrop has left our bodies, and now we can again meet in the Khala."

"...yes. This is true."

Vartanil looked about. "I see only former Tal'darim here. Where are those who aided us?"

"Gone, no doubt, to sit in the Khala and purge themselves of the taint of having touched our minds."

The thought was laced with so much bitterness that Vartanil recoiled. "I am certain that is not the case."

Korlendir turned to look at him. "Truly? I am not. What I said to those whose minds touched mine was harsh and angry and terrified. I would have felt sullied were it my mind that had been exposed to such filthy thoughts."

"Perhaps. But the Khala teaches us compassion above all else. Those who sat with us gave us a link to what it is to be protoss.... They did so out of caring."

Korlendir had no answer to that. At that moment, the door opened. Several protoss entered, bearing clean robes. One of them Vartanil recognized as Rishagar, who had sat with him a long time. The protoss, smaller than most and almost painfully slender, drifted toward him, warm affection rolling off her.

"You wake, friend Vartanil. And your mind is as clear as the waters of the Shushari pools. I am so very pleased."

She placed the clothing on the bed, and he rose and bowed to her. Rishagar extended her hands, palms up, and Vartanil imitated her. Energy formed and glowed softly in the space between their nearly-touching hands.

He met her in the Khala, and the beauty and wonder of the union caught him by surprise. It had been so long, and he had grown used to his isolation, though he had never learned to not miss the connection, the ache for it.

Sore trials you have had, my brother, and it was more than words, more than thoughts, he felt this mental communication. But you have survived. You have come home.

Vartanil could not hide the slight reluctance he felt at the words, and Rishagar's puzzlement floated around him. Scorning words, he held in his mind's eye and his heart encountering Jacob Jefferson Ramsey, and Zamara, and Rosemary Dahl. He showed her the desiccated corpses of what had once been worshipful Xava'kai, the whirling dark raging monster that had descended upon the fleeing preserver and her host. She had sat with him and comforted him mentally as his body rid itself of Sundrop, but now she felt the craving, the terror of the inexplicable separation from the Khala, the joy at the reunion at this deep level.

Gently they drew apart, warmth filling both of them. "So it is true, what the terran female has said."

"It is true. Zamara must be found and saved—as must Jacob Ramsey. He is a friend to the protoss. We have had so many casualties; it would grieve me if he were to be another one."

Rishagar nodded. "Executor Selendis will want to speak with you. And with you, Korlendir," she added, drawing the other protoss into the conversation. "Once she has met with you all, you are free to leave."

"And go where?" Korlendir was angry. "This is not our home. Our home lies in smoking ruins, crawling with zerg. And we sit here doing nothing about it."

"Executor Selendis, too, is passionate about our homeworld," Rishagar nodded, her calm a contrast to Korlendir's agitation. "Once she is informed, she and the hierarch will decide what the best course of action must be. But truly, this is your home now, Korlendir, as much as it is mine. The dark templar have done their best to make us welcome."

It was only because he had so recently been with Rishagar in the Khala that Vartanil picked up on the slight hesitation. Directing his thoughts privately to her, he asked, "Is there trouble here on Shakuras then?"

"Only what was to be expected—ancient enmities cannot be solved in a day, or a year, or even four years. But most of us are working hard to recover our former kinship."

Vartanil understood. Such divisions ran deep. He had seen one of the dark templar at the gate, Razturul was his name. Unlike most protoss from Aiur, for years Vartanil had known only a touching of minds, not souls. He had been denied the Khala because of the Sundrop; in a way, while fanning hatred of the dark templar among the Forged, Ulrezaj had actually been forcing those under his control to become like their exiled brethren.

"It is all.. .very complicated," he said finally. Rishagar half closed her eyes and warm humor washed over him. He shared it with her. But beside them, still angry and more than a touch confused, Korlendir sat in silence.

Hard on Rishagar's heels had come the executor. Korlendir had come to know that a female now occupied the place of power where Tassadar had once stood, but it was still unusual. Raszagal, the late matriarch of the dark templar, had led her people for many centuries. He had learned that among the dark templar, females in positions of power were not at all uncommon. But he was unused to such things. There had been none among the Conclave, and few among the templar. To see this powerful female in her beautiful, shining armor, to feel her gaze upon him, was unsettling.

It was with reluctance that he followed her lead and stepped into the Khala again. Worn out from both the physical and mental toll the detoxification had taken on him, reentering the Khala in the company of such a strong spirit as Selendis was more jarring than comforting, more intense than soothing. Nonetheless, her pleasure that he had escaped was genuine, as was her concern about the terrans.

The human female did not lie, then. There is a preserver's spirit trapped inside the human male. And she, too, was in the grip of the Sundrop.

She drew from him everything. Korlendir did not fight Selendis, but he could not hide his agitation from her. She was brief, and before she withdrew, she thanked him and sent calm to him. It helped somewhat.

Had union in the Khala always been like this? Korlendir was a templar. He had, along with every other protoss he had ever known, loathed and slightly feared the rebellious dark templar. Such he had been taught. But now it made him feel too vulnerable, this intimate joining, with no feeling, no thought, hidden from this stranger.

Selendis was clearly troubled by what she had learned. Nonetheless when she had finished, she bowed to him, and moved toward Vartanil. Korlendir was free to go now. There was a place here, in the capital city of Talematros, where records were kept. Korlendir, like all the others, had been encouraged to go there and locate his family. If he could not—if his family had perished on Aiur—he would be welcomed by Selendis and the other templar. No protoss was without a place, a position, a role to play.

Except Korlendir.

He found that he did not particularly care if his blood family had survived. The Forged had become his family, with the Xava'tor as its head. The Sundrop had calmed and comforted. Perhaps it had indeed driven them out of the Khala, but after what Korlendir had just experienced, he was not certain that was a bad thing. They had been close under the care of the Xava'tor. Even though the Benefactor had been revealed to be of dark templar origins—a dark archon, no less—Korlendir wondered, keeping the thought shielded, if perhaps Ulrezaj had been wronged.

Korlendir glanced over at Vartanil. He and Selendis sat palm to palm, and the young khalai was deeply at peace and happy. For a moment, Korlendir envied him.

He sat for a while longer, then rose and left the building.

He did not head toward the record chambers, nor the templar tower. He let his feet take him where they would. They took him through the city, bathed in the near-constant twilight and pocked with the strange architectural designs he was beginning to understand were typical of the dark templar. Korlendir glared up at them once, then lowered his head. He walked almost all day, until the buildings began to thin and the purple, hazy sky above him opened up. Finally, he lifted his head, and his eyes widened at what he beheld. He knew what it was, even though he had never seen it before.