An electric thrill couched in unexplainable dread assailed Rowan Voigt as he waited for the attendants of the Ba'Droone to finish their work. Rowan had watched along with the crowd of faithful Vespertilians as their Ba'Droone entered dramatically through the rough-hewn stone doorway from the rain-drenched castle balcony moments earlier with a look in his small black eyes that Rowan interpreted as madness. The Ba'Droone had been gone for weeks. His body was emaciated and his normally brown skin looked washed out and almost gray. His naked body was slick with rain, and dark puddles formed like shadows on the worn stone floor beneath him. For a long time the Ba'Droone held out his large bat-like wings while his attendants rubbed them down ceremoniously.

Some of the Vespertilians around Rowan had fallen to their knees, shaking masses on the verge of hysteria beneath disjointed black wing membranes. He could hear weeping. The anticipation was incredible, and palpable; the Ba'Droone had been on a vision quest during his long flight and the vision he experienced would map out the political path of his people for the next year, and very soon he would relay that vision, image by haunting image, to the patiently waiting crowd.

Rowan thought back to the training sessions he'd undergone on the interstellar flight from Earth, months of intense sleep-learning during extended periods of chemically-induced hibernation in a sensory deprivation tank. He arrived fluent in the Vespertilian tongue, with an uncanny knowledge of their thousands of intricate social cues, and no aversion whatsoever to their strange appearance. He abhorred the thought that he had been programmed, but this innovation was a testament to human efficiency. Attaining knowledge in such a way did have its drawbacks though. The subject would have to learn to intuitively trust knowledge he did not remember learning. This might explain why Rowan knew of the Ba'Droone's annual vision quest but sensed that he had learned of it in a dream, a dream he had had repeatedly. He could distinctly see in his mind the Ba'Droone's withered body fighting against wind and rain and fatigue, flying blindly through the endless cloudy darkness of the dream world. The Vespertilians believed that a Ba'Droone on a vision quest would fly all the way around their planet on the spirit of the wind, led only by the soft sound of the world of whispered dreams. Rowan doubted this was literally true. Even having been gone for weeks it was unlikely that the Ba'Droone could fly that far. Perhaps he went to hide out in some hidden cave in the mountains for a few weeks, Rowan thought, struggling to reconcile this bit of intuitive dream knowledge with logic.

As the attendants draped a wide fringe-tipped ceremonial scarf and a braided cord of golden thread about their master's neck, the Ba'Droone slowly regained some awareness. He folded his wings behind his back, and his elbows locked into a resting position high up above his shoulders like a pair of mountain peaks. He clasped his clawed hands tightly in front of his chest. The attendants helped him to his seat of power, an ancient-looking stone seat that Rowan thought couldn't be comfortable at all. Thoughtfully, the Ba'Droone seemed to scan the throng.

I wish, Rowan thought, the Consul had been well enough to attend this in person. Rowan had only been in this assignment as the Consul's assistant for a few months and was still unsure of himself. The Consul's illness meant Rowan would most likely be returning to the massive embassy when the Consul's replacement arrived. He would be relegated again to clerical work, never having to interact directly with Vespertilians who seldom were found on the plains where the Earthlings had built their base.

18 Scorpii 2 was a rocky world of high mountains and rich ores and only a sparse population of a single humanoid species. On first glance the Vespertilians appeared primitive. Living in small disparate clans, these bat-winged creatures were feudalistic, inhabiting castles hidden high in snowy mountain peaks. They had a lengthy history of blood feuds that developed into an elaborate system of weregild. An already highly ritualistic culture was made even more so by their pervasive mysticism that was exemplified in each clan in the person of a Ba'Droone. The Vespertilians looked to the Ba'Droone for guidance in all things. The Ambassador from Earth and her team of Consuls, one distributed to each Vespertilian clan, had a complicated job establishing working relations.

"We are pleased you are here Rowanvoigt," the Ba'Droone said. Rowan wasn't sure he had heard correctly at first, but the elderly Vespertilian was staring directly at him. The crowd parted in front of Rowan, leaving a path that led right to the feet of the Ba'Droone.

"Your Excellency." Rowan bowed consecutively three times and struggled to remember what was expected next. He inhaled deeply and forced himself to relax and then he found the knowledge was there like something forming out of nothing. He walked forward and knelt at the Ba'Droone's feet.

"Your liege is sick and will be leaving us soon to return to the clan of Earth," the Ba'Droone said. "We are saddened by his departure, but it will make way for something I have seen coming for a long time. These past weeks as I travelled through the world of dreams, I again had the same vision. Travelling with me was one who was not born to our ways, not of the world of dreams, but who would become like us, and be with us always." Rowan's stomach spun.

"We will request that you will stay here as the replacement of your liege. What say you to this, Rowanvoigt?" the Ba'Droone asked.

Rowan inhaled deeply and forced himself to relax again until the words formed on their own in his mouth. "I live to serve."