Chapter 10: Chapter 10

Sheridan looked at his old friend, laughing at Elijah's antics.

Pont quickly composed himself, and said, "apologies, it seems I've shown an impropriety before you."

Sheridan's eyes bore deep into Pont, seeing him send Henry off to study. Sheridan asked Pont "what is it that you seek to gain from doing this?"

Pont remained silent, before answering "what is it that you are referring to; my stubbornness in his admission?"

"You know well he'll never become part of the court- even if he observes all the etiquettes, which I doubt, he'll still manage to claim the ire of every noble and royal person on this land, to a degree they'll hunt his head on another."

"Then he'll gain an imperial's part."

"You know that's not what I meant."

Pont in reply handed him a paper that he'd gone over previously. Sheridan took the handed piece warily, going over it.

He frowned, "how did he do this? It's as though he knows the sender personally!" If not for his eyes, he might've thought Elijah was a spy of some sort.

"You should ask him, I'm sure the answer would be just as interesting as his replies, though perhaps less crass. But that aside, do you see what I mean? Should he not be educated, I fear at some point he may blunder so significantly it would cost him something more dear then his life."

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"Why do you care so much? Why go through all this trouble?" Sheridan was completely speechless at the lengths Pont would go to such lengths to support his friend so much. This was not like the Pont he'd known twenty six years ago, who was cold and calculating, and mostly thought of consolidating more power and influence.

"I'd have thought I have the eyes with how easily I can tell that which is on your mind as of now!" Pont exclaimed in derision. He paused before sighing. "I've changed in my time at the court. I've seen things I wish I'd have been oblivious to." He looked down, and Sheridan could see real sorrow in his soul. "I've done deeds I would've never considered possible to be done by hands belonging to those who have a conscience. I..." His voice trailed off as he looked at the picture on the wall, before continuing, "I can still hear her, Sherd, every night," his voice cracked, "her last words, that look she had givin me before he gruesome demise. I sometimes wish I'd have known what I do now back then, yet sometimes I feel relieved that it is not so. It's as though I've been cursed, and am slowly being torn apart by my own mind. I need to put my faith on something other then myself, someone who'll do a better job then me." Sheridan just stood there, listening. After some time, Pont gathered himself.

"I'm sorry you had to witness such a sight."

"Don't be, in the end we're all mortal. No matter what anyone tells you, even the gods die eventually."

And they reminisced, basking in each other's memories of a time in their age that seemed to be a take off ancient history.

After seemingly an eternity passed, Pont asked, "what will he do now?"

"I don't know" Sheridan admitted, "but I have a sinking feeling in my stomach that will only abate once I've confirmed he hasn't done anything stupid."

"I think, my friend, that you are too late," Pont pointed his finger out the window, where a giant phallic shape rose up, prominent and proud in the city square a few kilometers from their current location.

"How has he done that in such a short span of time?" Sheridan was incredulous.

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