***

That evening Anar reached The Punishing Claw's Den without any trouble. He had hardly entered the hall when he noticed movement – a shadow flickering behind a column at the foot of which Aniallu's books and things were placed. It definitely wasn't a tal sianae. He sniffed. The air was distinctly filled with an unfamiliar scent, but Anar did not know what kind of creature it could belong to. Not an animal, not an Alae, not an elf, not a human. It was something else, something Anar had never come across before, and he therefore did not know what to expect.

He lowered his hood and drew close the folds of his dark cloak, then moved silently forward into the column's thick shadow. When he had moved far enough, Anar took a few steps to the side and, at the risk of betraying his presence, stepped into the light so as to behold the unknown beast. Dressed in something that sparkled silver, it was rummaging dutifully through Aniallu's papers. The creature did not notice Anar, who had returned into the column's shadow and was stalking towards it. Setting its thin paw in the tal sianae's rucksack, it extracted a small vial and began sniffing it, greedily sucking the air into its large nostrils.

This feeble creature with its thin paws resembling gnarled dark-colored twigs, and long, undoubtedly strong and dexterous fingers, was most likely a nguu. Anar had read about their fierce and malicious nature in one of his contraband books about life beyond the Curtain. It talked about an expedition by a band of adventurers throughout the woods of Enhiarg woods in search of a certain ancient relic.

The nguu took another deep inhale of the smell coming from the vial and blissfully closed its big eyes. Seizing the opportunity, Anar quickly shot off the floor and in one adroit jump landed next to the creature. Not wanting to get blood all over everything, which he suspected was supremely rank, the Alae grabbed the nguu by its slender throat and prepared to choke it to death. But before he could give it a good squeeze the creature let out a bloodcurdling scream. The noise was so ear-splitting that Anar almost dropped the damned thing.

Aniallu, who had been curled up in peaceful slumber in the downy depths of her sleeping bag, was startled awake by this gut-wrenching cry. Mentally cursing herself for her carelessness, she shot out of her cozy nook like black lightning and threw herself towards Anar, quickly taking bipedal form in the process.

"Have the priests stripped you of your last wits? Let him go!" she ordered, coming to a halt next to the Alae, rendered senseless by the shriek.

"But it's a nguu!" Anar objected, in his shock forgetting that arguing with a tal sianae, albeit an unusually gracious one, probably wasn't a good idea.

"You're the nguu, with those black ears on a light mug," spat back the disheveled Aniallu, crinkling her nose in a very cat-like way. With some elusive motion she unclenched Anar's fingers and snatched the half-suffocated creature from his hands.

"It's no nguu!" the sianae mumbled, laying the puny creature on the edge of her sleeping bag.

She fingered the "nguu's" neck to make sure nothing too awful had happened to him; once satisfied, she calmed down markedly.

"Um, what is it then?" Anar asked, bewildered.

He could now get a good look at the "nguu's" unusual garb. It was made of thousands of tiny silvery fish, all held another by some incomprehensible design.

"This is Igshaag, Master Is-anshu-roimri. He's aiding me in decoding your holy texts. However," Aniallu yawned widely, flashing her long fangs, "we haven't yet been able to find anything interesting about the Curtain. Nothing but praises to Agir IX. Oh, how great he is! Oh, how powerful! But praise alone isn't enough," she finished, looking pointedly at Anar.

"Actually, I just came to say that I'll be happy to help you with the Curtain," he forced out.

The tal sianae expected nothing less.

"Splendid! I'll just bring him home and try to smooth over this... incident," she said and ran off into the darkness, leaving Anar twitching his ears in confusion.

She returned after a short while.

"I had to give him all the rest of my invisible ink. You owe me."

"Serving a tal sianae is a great honor," Anar said, bowing formally while barely holding back laughter.

"So what have you heard about the Curtain here, in your blessed Rual?" asked Aniallu, sitting on her sleeping bag and taking up a self-writing tablet.

"Only the priests' scary, superstitious stories," Anar scoffed; crossing his legs, he began to levitate a few inches off the floor. "In my opinion, anyway. I've heard about that horrible time since childhood, about how awful our world was. 'Awful' not in that it was dangerous... We're a chosen race, after all, and we have nothing to fear. But that it was ungodly, loathsome, dirty. The priests call this period the Great Drought, for... how did they put it... for 'Alasais' grace that had poured out on Rual like rain dried up, and only sporadic tears watered the sorrowful faces of the righteous few.'"

Aniallu pretended to shed a tear.

"They saw the reason for it," Anar continued, "as the fact that under Agir VIII – aka Agir the Thoughtless, father of Agir the Liberator – our city was flooded with non-believers. It was difficult to find even one household untainted by the presence of a non-Alae servant or guard. They worked our fields, paved our streets anew, prepared our food... And that would have all been fine if it weren't for the fact that besides all manner of foreign diseases, they brought a spiritual scourge into Rual – their abhorrent faith. Shamelessly taking advantage of all the blessings Alasais had poured out on the citizens of Rual, the ungrateful creatures continued worshipping their wretched gods. It is said that some of them had shrines to their idols hidden in their cellars, where they mocked Alasais, skinning alive cats that they'd kidnapped from the temples. Moreover, rumor had it they had managed to draw even some Alae into their abominable activities.

"The priests literally went mad, yelling till they were blue in the face that Alasais had already laid her punishing paw on the blasphemers' throats, and that the day was coming when her judgment would fall on their heads and the heads of all who had enabled them to carry out their wicked deeds. But it was all in vain, as the king and his subjects turned a deaf ear to their entreaties and admonitions.

"During this troubled time, one of the most prominent rulers in Rual history ascended to the throne. It was Agir IX. No one knows exactly what happened to his father. They say Alasais herself brought him to justice. He disappeared, and no one mourned him. On the contrary, the hearts of all cats faithful to Alasais rejoiced. All eyes turned hopefully to the new king."

Anar's voice was so full of gall that Alu began to seriously wonder if he wasn't suffering from heartburn.

"In all the texts, starting from the second year of his reign, Agir IX is referred to as none other than Agir Anviritani, which means 'liberator.'"

"If you ask me, that's about as much freedom as a prisoner has in a jail cell... even if it's superbly comfortable," remarked Aniallu.

"Instead of washing away the disgrace created by the infidels and blasphemers with their own blood, like the Holy Order of Rual High Priests expected of him, Agir simply walled off his territory with a magical barrier: the Great Curtain. He proclaimed, 'Alae whose souls and hearts belong to the great Mother of Cats are allowed to remain here, under her merciful paw. Defectors who tempt and have given in to temptation, be gone to the Outer Lands and suffer there eternally, in the absence of Her grace. May their ungrateful souls be cursed many times over! Let them wail and writhe, toiling aimlessly in the darkness with non-cats, for non-cats they have become.'" Really taking on the role, Anar squared his shoulders, stretched his neck, and looked down at Aniallu haughtily. "'I hereby say unto you, non-Alae: our patience is spent, and Rual will from now on expel infidels and all their belongings. But if any can be found among them who wish to reject their false gods, know this: Alasais has ordered me not to cast them out. However, henceforth, that temptation may not plunge them into the chasm of despicable lies anew, they are to serve the devout Alae unquestioningly who deigns to take them on as his wretched slaves.' And there turned out to be a good deal of them," Anar sighed plaintively. "I've never understood it."

"Yeah... And not a word about our beasties. But all that 'wail and writhe' really troubles me," Aniallu said, tapping her claw on the tablet where the words of Anar's story appeared one after another, captured out of the air. "Especially if you count the fact that said beasties only thrived on the outside of the Curtain."

"You'll probably laugh, but I've never once heard of animals becoming... like that outside the Curtain. I've never even thought of it!" Anar admitted, scratching behind his ear. "I thought that they were Alasais' punishment."

"As you can see, that's not the case. In Briaellar there's even a bad joke: Agir's called the Liberator for freeing the entire enormous Yellow Flowers Plain from its population. Why don't you catch your breath for a second while I tell you how it all looked from our, non-Rual point of view," Alu suggested. Anar nodded and reached for a bottle of milk. "Let's see... So, cats isolated from the surrounding world through Agir's magic lived in complete safety. The same cannot be said of the non-Alae whose settlements had sprouted up along the Rual borders over the past centuries. Most magical spells against the Curtain spawn didn't work, and just as citizens of towns beset by with hordes of bloodthirsty fiends found a way to fight off one type of them, a totally new type would spring from the woods.

"The villagers sustained horrible losses," the sianae spoke as if reading from an unseen book. "Many of them, firstly those who had moved here from the north, returned to their historical homeland. They were Naerites, and therefore had more powerful weapons and were better educated than their less fortunate kin. Some were formidable mages, and though most had never used their abilities for anything but mundane chores, in a critical situation you quickly learn how to use your pipe-cleaning skills to disembowel someone! That's why they turned out to be up to the task of pushing through the hordes of monsters cutting off the way to the Dream Valley and adjoining lands."

"And not one of them knew how to open a portal?" Anar asked in surprise.

"The plain is an anti-zone of Lindorg shenaven," Aniallu shook her head.

"What?"

"Sorry. Shenaven is a place where portals spontaneously appear. Like mold in a dank basement. And anti-zones are like its counterweight. You can't open portals there, and magic in general is unpredictable. You've got to just walk from place to place," Aniallu sighed and immediately continued in her previous "reciting" manner.

"Those who came to the fertile Yellow Flowers Plain through the Forestgate to the south made out much worse. They moved to the region surrounding Rual from a life that was far from prosperous, and took on the simplest occupations there: servants, herders and the like. The poor souls couldn't have even imagined heading north, so it's no surprise that about three quarters of them ended up seeking asylum in Rual, despite the dangers of the journey and slavery that awaited them at its end. Having lost many of their fellow companions, roughly fifteen hundred creatures made it to the Curtain. As soon as they reached the shade of Rual forests, they were met by Agir's ambassadors. They protected the refugees from the beasts swarming abundantly about the woods and saw them into the city walls. Meanwhile, the defecting Alae headed to Briaellar, where they remain to this day, and founded House an Rual, one of the city's Great Houses.

"Alvian Anlimorean, The Secret Borders of Our Homeland, Lindorg, 1500 something..." Aniallu concluded with a wide grin, like an overachieving student who'd just successfully answered a teacher's surprise pop quiz. She had gotten so carried away in her tale that she failed to notice her only listener's drawn face and the growing twilight outside.

"Then they really were forced into slavery..." Anar whispered in a barely audible voice. "I had almost come to accept all this. I'd decided I simply couldn't understand their happiness, although I'd tried."

"I've presented just one of many points of view," Aniallu hurried to say. "It's the most common, true. But... The Alae have never been popular in Enhiarg, and it casts us in the worst possible light."

"Popular?"

"Well, yes. We're too well off. As the saying goes, there's no warm nook in all Naeria an Alae hasn't already curled up in. And many are positively itching to get them out of these nooks. And the history of the Curtain, especially the part about slavery – that's our biggest puddle on the floor. You can't miss it."

"So you think it wasn't really like that?"

"Not exactly," Aniallu moved her shoulder. "I think that if fifteen hundred refugees came knocking at the city's doors, very few would have been admitted."

"Why?"

"Think about it. Rual was trying to get rid of non-believers. To leave only those Alae who, in their right minds and in full possession of their faculties, were willing to give up freedom in order to remain 'under Alasais' merciful paw,' to serve her and her blessed children. To serve with enraptured, loving obedience, to serve ecstatically and gratefully. Not out of fear or greed! Like Kad serves you, you know?"

Anar nodded.

"Agir is to blame!" Alu went on hotly. "Yes, he drained the life out of fifteen hundred beings. Many of them died. And he looked on calmly from inside his bloody bowl (I mean the Curtain!), instead of trying to do something – anything! – about it. He ought to have had his paws cut off for that alone. But I don't believe he had the audacity to enslave those who did not want to be slaves. Let them die, yes. But that – no."

"They wanted to be slaves... I still can't wrap my head around that. You see, I've been obsessed with the idea ever since..."

Anar fell silent. Aniallu waited patiently.

"Many years ago I came up with a law allowing slaves' descendants to choose their own destiny. I laid it at my uncle's feet..."

"And he wanted to murder you for it?"

"No," Anar chuckled bitterly, "he deigned to accept my proposal."

"Are you joking?"

"Kor gave the order that anyone who was not satisfied with his station in life was free to leave Rual unhindered."

"But 'unhindered' didn't mean anything to the 'amiable' inhabitants of the forests surrounding the city?" Aniallu guessed hesitantly.

"No. My uncle and my mother decided it wasn't enough to simply sentence them to death in this way, so that others wouldn't want to follow suit. They weren't at all concerned with the slaves, really. They were teaching me a lesson... Ten slaves left Rual the very next week. I gave them some money. Kor's bodyguards accompanied them right up to the edge of the woods. Safe and sound. They made it to some cities, and then... My mother showed me some scenes, made things clear for me..." Anar clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. "One died, all covered in sores. He was a stranger and no one wanted to heal him."

Aniallu frowned. Somehow this didn't sound like Enhiarg. Especially since the slave had money.

"Another was tortured to death by some maniacs. The rest survived, but... there wasn't a single day they didn't curse my name. I had really done them a horrible turn. I'd slipped them a pie with poison filling. They had no idea what awaited them beyond the borders of Rual. They didn't understand the meaning of the word 'freedom.'"

"And what did it mean to them?" Aniallu asked gently. She carefully took Anar's hand, and he squeezed hers gratefully in return.

"Power. Wealth. An idle life. And that's all. They thought that as soon as they were no longer slaves, they would to live as wonderfully as their former masters. They were oblivious of the price Rual cats pay for this luxury, the price that free creatures beyond the Curtain pay for their freedom. And that they couldn't afford such a price. Blasted fools! And I'm no better. Rabble-rouser, dangerous idealist! I neglected their motivations, neglected to figure out their souls' calling... I was genuinely happy for them, thinking that they wanted freedom for freedom's sake, that the goal of freedom justified all hardships. That it would give them wings with which they would be able to overcome... anything."

"Would you have been able to overcome all hardships in their place?"

"I thought so... But the very first challenges bested them. Lost, impoverished, despairing, almost all of them became addicts; some turned to begging, one went crazy, another ended his own life, and two of them tried to come back. They weren't even afraid of getting torn apart by the forest beasts. My uncle didn't care to help them. They died a horrible death..." Anar squeezed Aniallu's hand so hard it hurt.

"In the end, I only strengthened the status quo. My mother hoped this would be the final straw, that I'd revolt and destroy Kor. I thought about it. I even found a way around 'the soul's justice[1].' Ascend the throne and drastically change the Rual citizens' lives – it was so tempting. But something held me back. I came to my senses before it was too late."

"You realized that you'd be treating your people just like the priests had treated you. You would have become a tyrant, ruling by fang and claw, forcing your own notions of customs and laws down their throats?"

"Yes, I would have given much to find at least one real reason, besides my personal discontent in life, to hate the authorities of Rual and start to oppose them. I sought this in the lives of slaves. Perhaps they were made that way by their dreadful upbringing or by some evil magic. But I found nothing to back that up. It's as if they're a special breed of beings, no matter what race they belong to. They indeed could have voluntarily stayed in Rual. My reforms were of no use to anybody except myself. And if you think about it, even I don't really need them. Yes, I really wanted to restructure this 'city in a bubble,' as you call it, and make it match my personal idea of happiness. But all that did was convince me that most, if not all inhabitants of Rual liked the status quo! Everyone – slaves and their masters both. And if I thought that our life was pointless, twisted and wrong, to others it was the life of their dreams! Freedom is far from an absolute value. For some this word is but an empty sound... a profanity even! A synonym for chaos, decay, danger, vice..." Anar grimaced, not letting go off Aniallu's hand. Touching her cool fingers soothed him, gave him strength to continue his bitter confession.

Alu kept silent for a long while, tapping her cheek with a sharp claw, deep in thought. She then raised her eyes to Anar and said:

"Your actions were very wise. It's strange that after all that you asked me why 'my Alasais' hasn't done away with Rual's priests and restored order here. Her order. She hasn't for the same reason you didn't kill Kor, take the throne and make Rual over as you please. You realized in time that everyone is different. Many live for centuries without understanding that. It's easy to say that you're surrounded by fools and scoundrels, that they don't know how to live. It's far harder to admit that you're no better or worse, just... different. Your soul is not the same as their souls, and so you see things differently.

"Alasais definitely did not take a fancy to her cult in Rual. She stopped considering those cats her children for she no longer felt a spiritual connection to them. But just because she didn't like it doesn't mean she had to enact judgment on them. Rual citizens were only following their nature. They were completely content with their way their way of life, which had taken root over the centuries. It would have been cruel and pointless to force change upon them. Of course," Alu nodded as if agreeing with something, "there were malcontents. But it wasn't the perpetual and ruthless pursuit of Alasais' favor, titles, honors and so on, impressed upon them by their environment, that they were unhappy with. All the lies, hypocrisy, intrigue and murder didn't disgust them. The endless ceremonies didn't annoy them in the least. It seemed convenient and natural to live according to the Devout Code, always knowing what to say and do. They only got upset when their own attempts to rise through the ranks of society proved unsuccessful. In other words, the local malcontents were displeased not with the system, but with their own place in it."

"And what about me?!" Anar cried painfully, leaning forward. "I was unhappy with the system, but my place in it was more than enviable!"

"Your being here is a horrible mistake," Alu sighed. "Even by biological heritage, you're not a true Rual Alae but a half-breed. But much more importantly, your soul's anatomy is such that the spirit of this land and those who made it that way are completely foreign to you, as they are to any 'normal' Alae. You value freedom, sincerity, truth to self, opportunities to learn and create new things. But I don't have to tell you all this about yourself.

"As for your compatriots... The main difference between them and other cats is their excessive pride, ambition and vulnerability. The Curtain is the most obvious proof of this. The priests couldn't stand to hear that other gods might be capable of something Alasais wasn't. This insane envy coupled with fear of losing their position drove them mad. Rulers trembled from stories about the tremendous scope, grandeur and power of non-Alae cities. Mages were terrified at the successes of foreign sorcerers who might topple them from their enviable positions at any moment. They were all scared to death of having to compete with these unfathomable, uncontrollable foreigners. The Curtain put all these fears to rest. Hidden from the rest of the world, they could create their own world in which to institute and preserve the illusions of Alasais' all-powerful nature and of the Alae superiority over all other races. The priests regained their former power. Everyone became relieved and happy. The end.

"And now you can ask me: truly everyone?" Alu rubbed her face wearily. "The first slaves may have become slaves by their hearts' desire, but what about their descendants? Can we be sure that a 'second Anar' won't be born among them?"

"I won't ask that question. I've stopped asking long ago. After the catastrophe I thought about it a lot and dug through the holy libraries. And I realized that no one ever actually forbade anyone to leave Rual. No such order was ever given! If a 'second me' were to be born among the slaves, no one would stop him. Go, please! Just as Kor and Queen Alara would gladly be rid of me if it weren't for my mother. All in all, it makes sense. You get rid of all malcontents and still keep the image of a humane ruler. No executions. Nothing. Go on, guys, see ya! Half of them get eaten, and those that survive won't even think about trying to come back. They'll be stirring up trouble somewhere else, but not in Rual!"

"There you go. But there's an even better guarantee, Anar. Alasais would never let anyone who values freedom as much as you do to be born here as a slave. We have the Nae of Death for that – Veindor the Merciful. By Alasais' request he only puts those souls in slaves' children that are content to be so, by nature. Yes, the thought that there are such souls blows my mind too... but there are! You were just talking about it.

For those souls, Rual is a dream. They thrive on simplicity, stability and routine. The fact that everything about their fate is decided by wise cats who'll always tell you what's right and what isn't, and there's no need to dwell on the intricacies of life. The fact that their 'today' is exactly the same as yesterday, and yesterday is the carbon copy of the same date from the previous year. They have confidence in the future, prosperity and peace. Throw in the safety and beauty of the city, clear lakes with no shortage of fish, fertile fields with frequent harvests, and you get a real-life fairytale! Yes! Isn't it true that your mages really heal slaves, and there are separate temples built for them, served by real Alae priests?" she added, remembering Kad's gratifying stories. "Casting these inborn slaves into a life of freedom is like taking a beloved pet – a delicate creature accustomed to a quiet, easy, pampered life – and casting it into the streets! You saw it yourself. When they're allowed to live life on their terms, they often hit rock bottom! They steal, beg and sell their bodies, and usually end their lives in some ditch." Aniallu's voice contained not a trace of scorn, only genuine pity. "They're simply not capable of making choices on their own, exerting their will, resisting temptation and overcoming hardships – in a word, having their own life. They're like little children who will never grow up, try as you might to develop them."

"Maybe we just haven't found a way yet?" Anar asked despite himself.

"I'm afraid that's not it. No, Anar, they are what they are," Aniallu said decidedly. "And we should respect their nature, no matter how unnatural it seems to us. I'm telling you this as a cat who loathes the very phenomenon of slavery, who every year donates quite a bit of money to Break the Collar – an organization that fights against it and helps its victims get on their feet."

"Perhaps they could also help... my victims?"

_______________________

[1] The Soul's Justice – the ability of royal Rual souls who had died violent deaths to unmask their killers.