The Stone Dragon

"Blackstone!"

Karen sighed as the The Bear's shout rippled through the grounds of the monastery that shared her new name. Her husband grinned sheepishly at the call and shook his head. Karen wasn't supposed to be there, no matter who their parents were, but they were always like that. Whenever one of them had an especially interesting idea, they would find the other and begin a spirited discussion about it. The templars were used to this by now, so much so that they had begun to ignore Karen's presence in the Monastery. But Matilda Maloran had never been one to cede an inch on anything. Karen slunk away as Bart turned to face the commander.

"How many times must you be told the rules of this place?" the templar growled impatiently.

"That's a trick question," Bart replied with a stoic expression. "No matter how many times I am lectured about receiving guests, it's Karen's disregard for the rules that leads her here, not me."

"She is not the one who will pay the price if I see her here again!" Matilda snapped. "You will never be anointed as a member of this order if you cannot respect our ways!"

"My respect or lack thereof is irrelevant," Bart said calmly. "Karen does whatever she wants. That can make things difficult for her family, but it's part of what I love about her."

Matilda sighed and pressed her palm to her forehead. "Well, you had better have a talk with her if you don't want her impulsiveness to affect your future!"

"That is duly noted," Bart replied with a courteous nod. "I will have a talk with her the next time I go home."

The templar lowered her hand and nodded. "See that you do. At any rate, I have not come to lecture you! I am here to tell you that your mother is here to see you. She's waiting in the garden."

"Thank you, ma'am," Bart said blankly, making a stark effort to avoid showing any emotion. "I will see you on the training ground afterward."

Matilda nodded approvingly and left Bart to respond to his mother's summons. It was with a deep breath that he approached Sara Blackstone, who was sitting cross-legged next to a pond. There was never a figure in his life that aroused more guilt in him than the Champion of Serenity. His convictions always seemed to fail him where his mother was concerned. She seemed to sense his sharp intake of breath just then, because she immediately opened her eyes.

"Good morning, Bartholomew!" Sara said warmly. "How are you and your new wife?"

"We're getting along," Bart said as he sat down next to the Champion. "Married life can be complex between people who are so different. But what we share in common is the subject of much admiration on both of our parts."

"Would one of those things you share be the contrary opinions you enjoy sharing with the elders here?"

Logically speaking, Bart had no reason to be surprised, but his constant rows with the senior members of the Blackstone Order weren't something he was prepared for his mother to know about. He had never once felt in the wrong for asserting that blind faith was reductive and detrimental to social progress. He had learned from Sara that a religious doctrine couldn't possibly be both static and enduring. But where she had argued that her own faith was losing itself to complacency, he had been arguing that all of the religions taught at the Monastery were sacrificing credibility for baseless dogma. He had always been on good terms with his parents, but he knew that only his father could be bothered to see his point of view if so pressed.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Bart said quietly. "Plenty of people I know happen to share those opinions."

Sara sighed and shook her head. "I can't say that I agree with them, but I have always respected your sincerity. You're a good boy, but I have to ask: are you really happy here?"

Bart looked into his mother's eyes with mild disbelief, but she seemed to be searching for nothing but the truth in his own. Knowing that his candor was necessary here, he shook his head in response.

"I thought not," Sara said with a hint of sadness in her expression. "Well, we're still getting visits from representatives from the Greymont Institute. I know your father would love the peace and quiet if you could be convinced to take the Director's Chair in his place."

Bart wasn't particularly fascinated with the offer, but he was so relieved that she gave it despite her obvious disappointment with wanting to leave the Monastery that he didn't even think to refuse.

"I could do a lot more good there than I ever could as a templar," he admitted.

However he felt about the future he had just been presented with, he knew he wasn't wrong.