Fenter enjoyed sleep.  It was one of his favorite things to do besides eating and drinking.  Sure, he enjoyed other things—like scratching his back on the rough spot in his bookshelf or gorging himself on one of Binter's three-shekel meals—but sleep seemed to have a charm all its own.

Unfortunately, as with all enjoyable things, something was always bound to come and spoil it.  Fenter once wished that something would whack him over the head hard enough to make him go comatose for a month or so.  However, he noted that a side effect of getting such a good thumping would be a certain amount of pain, so he never put his plan into action.

Fenter's biggest concern right now had a lot to do with thumping, not on his head, but on his apartment door.  With a muffled groan the raccoon pulled his tattered patchwork blanket over his eyes.  "Go away," he grunted in the direction of the noise. "I'm not here and I paid for my milk last Tuesday!"

The knocking grew louder.  "Mister... Mister Fenter Nuttzenboltzen?

Hello?  It's really urgent that I speak with you."

"You're speaking to me now and I'm not here... Go away!"

A heavy sigh was heard through the door.  "Verdigris said that it would probably go this way..."

The raccoon peeked at the door through a hole in his quilt where the seam between two patches had frayed loose.  "Grampy Verdigris?"

"He also said that you weren't to call him that."  There was the sound of something sliding under his door.  "The Venerable Verdigris Nuttzenboltzen wished that I deliver this to you personally... something about you needing some culture in your life."

Fenter lingered for a moment, trying to soak in the last blissful moments of the warm spot he had created in his bed.  He almost drifted back to sleep again until the battering at his door resumed.  With a grumble, he rolled out onto the floor and scuttled towards the fold of paper resting under his doorway.

"An invitation to the First Ones exhibit this afternoon in the auction house," said the voice, which probably belonged to one of Verdigris' Technopriest apprentices.  "The Eye is going to be on display.  He wants you to see it."

The raccoon made a face and peeled the envelope's wax seal away with a clawtip.  He didn't want to go; the only thing he wanted to do for the rest of the afternoon was stare at the underside of his quilt.  But he knew he was stuck.

Fenter was good at making up excuses.  He had managed to excuse his way through almost ten years of goofing off at the College.  Verdigris, though, knew every excuse he had.  There was no way he could weasel out, and if he didn't show up there would be a good chance that, as punishment, his allowance would stop flowing from his venerable grandfather for the next month.

"I do hope they have some kind of buffet there," Fenter sighed as he began to dress himself.

Dusty sunbeams filtered down through the treetops as a gray feline made his way back to the Temple.  He checked in with the guard at the gate, paused to genuflect at a statue of one of the First Astromancers, and then made his way into the deep recesses of the old building.

In the heart of the Inner Mysteries was an old raccoon, carefully tending to an open panel in the wall.  He probed it gently with a grayish white rod, wincing as sparks flew out from the wires inside and lightly singed the fur on his hands.  He adjusted his eyepiece and continued his work, oblivious to the gray cat in Technopriest robes that crept into the chamber.

"Rotten circuits..." Verdigris mumbled to himself.  "Nothing but rot and decay, all of it.  What I wouldn't give for the old days when we didn't have to rip open the walls and steal..."

"Um, sir?"

Verdigris glanced over his shoulder and lifted his eyepiece.  "Ah...

Brother Sprocket.  Did you deliver my message?"

Sprocket nodded, his gray tail twitched back and forth behind him, betraying his nervousness.  "Yes, sir... but... isn't this going to be quite a risk?  I mean... if he's as useless as you say..."

"Hush!"  Verdigris snapped, replacing the strange mechanical lens over his eye.  "I suppose, but old men are allowed to take risks every so often, and I feel this is the proper time."  He squeezed the end of the rod in his hand, causing it to crackle with energy at his touch.  "Now go deliver the papers I gave you to the Bridge officer.  We've little time left."

Fenter trudged through the marketplace. He was deliberately taking the long way to the exhibit in his own private act of defiance, as though it would pain his grandfather horribly if he arrived a bit late.  He looked down at the hem of his robe and did his best to ignore his surroundings.  Fenter had managed to go through much of his life by doing what he wanted, when he wanted, and where he wanted.  Not even the rigors of college broke him of his habits; instead, they only served to shift them around a bit.

Life before college was so much better.  He'd been able to run around like an eager cub and enjoy his grandfather's wealth.  It was not to last.  Soon he found himself stuck doing odd jobs or apprenticeships, none of which he was good at and several of which he'd made a horrible mess.

The raccoon kicked at a stone and almost tripped himself.  Why didn't his grandfather just accept the fact that he was destined to be at best mediocre at everything?  Instead Verdigris shuffled him off to the College Esoterica, the most prestigious magic college in the world.  He was tested for magic potential and it was decided that he should train to be a chaos mage.

Fenter wiggled his fingers.  He was interested in his studies as a mage at first, especially in a sphere so strange and so unlike any other, but it all took such a long time to master.  If he supposedly had potential, then why was it so hard to learn?  It was near the latter part of his second year of college that he finally gave up on magic and decided to focus on himself again.

After ten years of living at the College he understood the basics of spellcasting, how to make proper ritual circles and which runes invoked which energies.  He knew about formula, theory, equations, and everything else a mage needed to know to invoke a spell—but he could barely cast a simple cantrip.  Most students were able to perform full-blown rituals by their third year.

It didn't surprise him much.  His professors had told him that it was because he didn't want the magic badly enough.  His fellow students told him that he didn't organize his time properly and didn't take his work seriously.  Verdigris said he wasn't applying himself.  Fenter knew they were all wrong.  He was just one of those fellows that was born without the ability to do anything well.  He just wished that the world would hurry up and figure it out already, and let him go back to taking his afternoon nap.

"Ahhh!  Missster Fenter!  Ssso good to be ssseeing you in sssuch good afternoon."

The raccoon glanced over his shoulder; it was Nasth, a fat green snake that had set up shop on the fringes of the bazaar.  He was a fairly good baker, and had earned a reputation for himself in the short amount of time he had been in the city.  Fenter had met him during his first week in the city and had become a regular customer, partially because he was fairly good company and partially because the snake had given Fenter a sizable discount for helping him learn to speak the local language.

Bowing, Fenter replied to the snake in his own hissing language, "Not so fine a morning, I'm afraid.  I'm on Grandfather's business.  I have to go see some Eye thing today."

Nasth flicked his tongue out appreciatively, "The Sleeping Eye?  Yes, I wish I could go see it myself, but my assistant took ill today.  I believe he ate a sick yiffle."  The snake jerked his head towards a cage than dangled from the top of his cart.  A creature with a pig's face and bright blue fur glared out with bloodshot eyes.  An acrid odor wafted out of the small cage.

"How can you tell when they're not sick?" Fenter hissed, then shrugged his shoulders.  "As for the Sleeping Eye, I'd much rather be sleeping myself.  Grampy's still trying to instill me with culture, sort of like bacteria."

The snake chuckled, his tailtip curled around the pole holding up the banner heralding his small cart to passersby.  "You should try to make the best of it, Mage Fenter.  I am sure that your grandfather only wishes you to improve yourself.  Even the Nagai shed their skins now and then."

"I'm happy the way I am," Fenter sighed.  "I wouldn't mind staying this way for the rest of my life if I could."

"Perhaps your skin has simply not begun to itch yet.  But we do not choose when to shed anymore than we choose the color of our scales." The snake produced a small tray of sticky pastries that smelled of cinnamon and vanilla.  He delicately wrapped one up in a napkin and offered to the raccoon.

Fenter gingerly accepted the treat, realizing for the first time how hungry he was.  "All I do is toddle off in the directions people kick me and hope I can stop for a nap somewhere along the way." He paused to lick some icing from his fingers and glanced in the direction of the renovated auction house.  "Speaking of toddling off, I should probably get going."

The snake's tongue flicked out again.  "Of course, Mage Fenter.  May the Sleeping Eye give you good fortune.  I hear that its touch brings luck."

The old auction house on the fringes of the scholar's quarter had been many things in its time: an opera house, a ballroom, a museum, and a trader's market; but today it was almost like a carnival.  Rephidim's social elite gaggled along its hallways and corridors gossiping and hobnobbing.  Fur had been combed, permed and perfumed, feathers had been preened, and everyone was wearing his best.

The great Eye was on display... an artifact that was rumored to have been in the possession of the Temple for thousands of years, perhaps even an artifact left by the First Ones themselves!  It was a moment not to be missed.  A hundred lifetimes would probably pass before the public would ever see the Sleeping Eye again.

Fenter bustled his way through the crowd as he inched towards the banquet table.  His nose wrinkled as he was assaulted by the smells of a hundred different species and a thousand different perfumes.  He was largely ignored by the patrons, which suited him just fine.  The less he was spoken to, the sooner he could grab a bite to eat, wander around long enough to be able to say he made an effort to be here, and then go back home and get back to sleeping.  As spectacular as the Eye purportedly was, he had no interest in it.

Suddenly a mass of blue feathers and black cloth popped in front of him.  "Terribly hot in here, isn't it?  I think the cooling system is broken."

The raccoon almost leaped out of his hat as the peacock spoke to him.  He was unsure how to respond, so he decided to stick with the reply that usually kept him out of trouble.  He smiled and nodded, snagging a plate of crumblecake from a mouse's serving tray as it rushed by.

"You look familiar."  The peacock twittered.  "Ah!  You're Verdigris' boy, aren't you?  Yes yes... I can see it in your eyes." he reached out and patted the raccoon's head.  "Adorable boy.  Simply adorable."

Again Fenter nodded, inwardly wincing at the head pat.  He was almost twenty-six now... far from a boy.  He shook the thought out of his head -- no good adding more misery to the situation afterall.  "Nice, er...  party, isn't it?" he said, attempting to be sociable.

"Absolutely wonderful!  Magnificent!" the peacock responded, making a sweeping gesture with his hand and sending a few spatters from his wineglass down on the raccoon.  "Have you seen the Eye yet?  Oh, you MUST!  You simply must!"

Before he could open his mouth to respond or even twitch his head, the peacock had grabbed Fenter's free arm and was dragging him across the room and into a hallway.  He sighed to himself in resignation and stumbled along as best as he could.  He was used to being pushed from place to place.  What did it matter whether it was his grandfather or some overpreened peacock in a tuxedo doing the pushing?

"It gets hotter back here.  One would think that with all of the fancy party favors the Temple was willing to throw around that they could at least produce an air mage to cool things down a bit." the bird chirped merrily, still tugging on Fenter's arm.  "I don't suppose you're an air mage?  Oh, that's right, I remember now—you're studying to be an earth mage.  Lovely profession, simply lovely."

"Chaos," Fenter grunted, looking longingly at his chunk of uneaten cake.

The peacock chuckled.  "Yes, yes.  My opinion exactly.  Nothing but chaos, that's what happens when the Temple uses hirelings instead of doing the job themselves.  I agree completely.  Such a wise boy..."

The raccoon gritted his teeth and simply nodded his head again.  It appeared that he was being taken to the areas that were once used to hold the auction house's live commodities—the slaves.  The rooms that once held shackled workers now held displays that went into the history of the Temple.  In one room was a string quartet playing the Rephidim anthem, while in another was a pack of poodles who were chatting and primping themselves.  Fenter carefully wiped his forehead with his sleeve.  The air was stiflingly hot now and his robes were starting to stick to his skin.

Fenter's 'guide' stopped abruptly as a peahen came into view.  "Sarae!" the bird squealed.  He ran over to the new arrival, releasing his grip on Fenter.  "It's been AGES!  How are you, dear?  That dress is simply fabulous!"  The two birds began twittering merrily to one another.

Sensing a chance to slip away, the raccoon crept off into one of the side rooms as his guide was distractedly chatting away to his newfound companion.  He set his plate on a chair and removed his sweat-soaked hat, then found he was panting from the heat, an act that earned him a glare from a poodle that had been eyeing a tapestry on the wall.

Forcing himself to smile, Fenter snapped his mouth shut (almost biting his tongue in the process) and inwardly chided himself.  He stuffed his hat into a pocket of his robe and then peeked outside.  The peacock was nowhere to be seen... unfortunately he had no idea how to get back since he had spent the entire trip down the twisty hallways staring at his feet.  Sighing, the raccoon picked up his plate and trundled off in the direction he hoped would lead him out.  At least he wouldn't go hungry along the way.

Bridge officer Redsky looked over the stack of papers on his desk.  Most of them were boring memos about a lack of supplies for the Temple Scouts, or the plumbing problems in the Guard's barracks, but there was one that was highly unusual.  It was a message form Verdigris stating that he was intending to take the day off.

"The old mainspring hasn't taken a vacation for years," Redsky mumbled to himself as he tapped the memo with his pen.  "I think he even works through meals."

He shrugged.  Perhaps the old codger really WAS getting old and wasn't as energetic as he used to be.  Still, Verdigris knew the Inner Mysteries better than any Technopriest in the temple.  It would probably be good to keep him happy.

The Bridge Officer stamped the sheet with his seal, signed his name to it and then slipped it in with the rest of the pile to be filed away and forgotten just like every other paper that crossed his desk.

"THE EYE!  THE EYE!  Somebody do SOMETHING!"

Fenter looked up from the stone steps he was resting on.  His search for the exit had been to no avail.  The slightly nibbled on piece of crumblecake still rested in his lap—it had turned out to be licorice-flavored, the one flavor Fenter couldn't stand.  Still, he had kept the thing in the hopes that if things got really desperate he could perhaps make a trail of crumbs to keep from going in circles.

"Oh DAGH!  It's wrong!  Something's wrong!"

He carefully pulled himself up from the steps and tried to determine the source of the noise.  Perhaps if he was lucky a panicked mob would run by and he could follow them to the exit.

More yapping and squawking.  Nobles seemed to have healthy lungs, as a rule.

Someone did come into view.  A wolf guard in armor rushed up to the raccoon and grabbed him by his collar before he could bolt away.  "You Fenter, the earth mage?  Good... c'mon." Yet again he found he was being dragged down yet another hallway.  Fenter was starting to feel put out.

The raccoon winced as the bright light from the main exhibit room stabbed at his eyes.  The peacock he had met earlier rushed up and patted his head again.  "It's all right, everyone.  Verdigris' grandson will save us!" he twittered.  "Earth mages can talk to rocks.  He can tell it to stop!"

"But I'm not..." Fenter managed to squeak out before his voice was lost in the cheering response.  The chaos mage tried to wriggle out of the wolf's grasp, but it was no use.  He was slowly being pushed towards the room the currently housed the Eye.  A strange pulsating glow oozed out through the cracks of the closed door.

Something was also causing a strange buzzing sensation in Fenter's head.  It made him feel briefly dizzy.  He slumped a bit in the wolf's grasp.  He didn't like this feeling one bit, as it was the feeling that usually came to him just before a spell blew up in his face.

The heavy wooden door was thrown open and the Eye's seething light make Fenter's skin tingle as he was shoved towards it.  It was like a perfect sphere made of marble, with patterns that flowed like liquid across its surface. The 'iris' of the Eye was a neat slash, like a cat's.  There was just one problem—it seemed to be growing.  Fenter was mesmerized.  The tingling against his skin was starting to feel like a gentle pressure, as though the Eye were reaching out with an invisible hand and touching him.

Then the door slammed shut, sealing him inside with the thing. The noise jolted the raccoon out of his trance and he whirled around just in time to hear the solid thunk of the bolt being slid into place, on the outside.

Fenter attacked the door with everything he had, screaming at the top of his lungs and beating his fists raw.  He shoved at it with his shoulder, tugged on the knob, and even tried searching the room for another escape route.  It was useless—the room was designed to hold slaves, big tough burly slaves who could probably bite chains in half with their teeth.  There was no way out.

Another buzz in his head, this one more insistent, pulled Fenter's attention away from the door and back to the Eye.  Was it a bomb?  Maybe it was a weapon from the First Ones.  Maybe it was strong enough to destroy Rephidim, or more importantly, strong enough to destroy HIM.

How did Verdigris solve problems like this?  After all, Grampy worked for the Temple.  He probably encountered things like this every day.  Fenter glared at the orb, recalling all the times his grandfather had managed to beat him down with just a few stern words, and trying to duplicate the tone.  "Stop it.  Stop it right now."

Nothing happened.  "Um...please?" Fenter added.

Still nothing.  It didn't have feet so he couldn't tell it to go sit in the corner, like his teachers did. It was already in its room so he couldn't send it there.  No.  He was going to have to solve this his way.

Fenter sank to his knees.  His way?  Right. His way was to just smile and nod and let himself get dragged around.  He felt sick to his stomach, the way one feels when he realizes that he's about to die in a room with an angry rock and that it's his own fault for letting it happen.  He could have refused, spoken up, or pulled away, but it was so much easier not to make a fuss.  Now look where he'd let himself get dragged!

The curtain of light emanating from the Eye pulsed again, sending a jolt through the raccoon's head that was so strong he almost passed out.  He stumbled forward and curled up on the stone floor.  It didn't hurt; it was just terribly intense.  It was almost as though the Eye itself was challenging him, or perhaps prodding him into action.

He must do something, anything!  Hands shaking, he pulled himself back to his feet.  "I need," Fenter declared, trying to sound professional, "to try a spell."  Fenter gulped.  He looked around. There was no chalk to draw a circle, and he needed one to even hope to do the ritual properly.  The room was empty, with no chairs, no chalk, nothing.  Only the Eye on its pedestal and him with his slice of slightly stale crumblecake.

Desperation is an amazing thing, and sometimes it causes people to do amazing, or incredibly foolhardy, things.  Fenter grabbed the chunk of cake in his hands and proceeded to rend it into tiny crumbs that he spread across the floor in a rough circle.  His teachers would probably have fits if they knew he was intending to try a spell with an edible mage's circle, but this wasn't a time for such formalities.

Biting his lip, the raccoon stepped into the circle and dug deep into his mind.  He tried to recall every lecture, every book, and every lesson he had ever learned.  The words came to him, but they were choppy and didn't feel right.  Something was still wrong.  Something was missing.

Fenter started moving in time to the beating pulses of the Eye.  For each tingle he felt in his head he etched a symbol in the air.  There was no sense to it; it just came to his mind.  One jolt and he whirled on his heel, painting invisible flowers in the air with his fingertips; another jolt and he bowed to an unseen partner, his hand tracing the symbol for life.  On and on it went, without sense to it, without discernable rhythm, but somehow feeling terribly right.

Eventually the chaos mage became so wrapped up in his casting that the world around him seemed to fade away into a haze.  It was then that he felt IT.  A familiar and almost kindred spirit nearby.  It was hurt, angry, and very tired.  It had danced his gauntlet and was ready to speak.

Fenter reached out to it, asking it why it was angered, why it was hurt.  He asked it what he could do to soothe it.

When the answer came... Fenter almost laughed out loud.

"Hurry, Master Verdigris!  We could be too late!"  Brother Sprocket rushed through the doors of the auction house with a very winded Verdigris behind him.  The old raccoon supported his weight on his staff as he hobbled along after his feline assistant.

"My legs don't propel me like yours do, Brother.  I'm an older model, remember?"  The elder Technopriest leaned against a column, shook his head, and then jogged after Sprocket.

After several minutes of dashing from hallway to hallway and from ballroom to ballroom, a winded gray cat and an exhausted raccoon burst into the chamber where the sealed-off Eye exhibit rested.  Outside were a few poodles that had dared to stay to see how the crisis would turn out.  The guards standing at the doorway to the chamber of the Eye saluted the Technopriest.

Verdigris tried to straighten himself out.  "I came as soon as I heard.

Where is my grandson?"

A dilapidated looking poodle gestured to the closed door.  "We were hoping the earth mage could tell the rock to be still.  We though he'd done it once things got quiet in there... but now there's this horrible tortured growling coming from inside.  We're afraid to open the door!"

As if on cue, a pained-sounding rumble echoed through the oaken door.  Sprocket's fur stood on end and the poodles whimpered.  Verdigris set his jaw and strode to the chamber's entrance.  He rapped on the wood with his staff.  "Open it up."  The two wolves looked nervously at one another but slowly released the bolt on the door.  The hinges protested as the door ponderously swung open.

Verdigris walked inside.  Strewn at his feet were bits of cake crumbs and what looked like small shavings of stone.  The pedestal that once held the eye was bare and had been knocked over, but there was something new that replaced it.

Curled up on the corner was Fenter, sleeping soundly while an odd lizard had twined itself around the young raccoon.  The strange little beast had bright blue scales, a golden mane, two nubby silver horns on its head, and batlike wings.  A dragon—it was a dragon!  Both Fenter and the dragon were snoring loudly, as if trying to out-snore one another.  The result was a terrible din.

Verdigris moved closer and gave his grandson a poke with his cane.  The dragon was instantly awake and seized the staff in its jaws, biting the end cleanly off.  Fenter creaked an eye open at the commotion.

"Oh...hello, Grampy," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes and pulling himself up to his feet.  The dragon nimbly scampered across his back and rested on his shoulders, as though it had always belonged there.

Verdigris wore his best dour look.  "I see you've caused more trouble.

What happened here?"

He wasn't sure how to explain because he wasn't quite sure what had happened himself.  "Er... the Eye woke up."  Fenter dusted off his robes while the dragon gingerly licked up some crumbs clinging to the raccoon's fur.

"What?"  Verdigris slammed what remained of his cane on the floor, shattering one of the pieces of stone lying near his feet.

"It wasn't my fault!  It was the heat.  It warmed up the Eye.  Everyone thought it was a rock and thought I was an earth mage, so they stuffed me in here and locked the door."  Fenter's foot traced a circle in the rubble on the floor.  "Apparently this little fellow lived inside of it and had woken up.  He was scared because he couldn't go back to sleep and didn't know what to do... so I... uh... helped to teach him how to sleep without the egg.  That's what I assumed happened at least.  Things got a bit fuzzy during the ritual."

The Technopriest managed to force back a smile.  "I see," he said in his best grim tone.  "So you're saying that the Sleeping Eye is really an egg?"

"Was an egg, sir."  Fenter replied.  "It's more like confetti now.  Darn uncomfortable to sleep on as well."

"And that this pet of yours is what popped out?"

"Yes sir.  He was rather upset, but I calmed him down."  Fenter patted the dragon's head, which rumbled happily.

Verdigris leaned on his staff.  "And how did you manage that?"

Fenter paused and wrung his hands nervously.  "I... uh... told him I knew exactly how he felt.  Apparently when you're an egg you think that you're the only person in existence, so hearing that someone related to him, and that there was a bigger and more interesting world just outside his shell, really helped him out.  It was easy going from there on."

The Technopriest paced back and forth.  "Well lad, I suppose I can come to some kind of agreement with the proprietors of the auction house to help keep you from getting prosecuted for this whole mess."  He made a melodramatic sweep with his arms. "And of course the Temple will expect you to turn the creature over to them for study."

The chaos mage looked down at the shattered bits of eggshell around his feet.  Something he'd never felt before seemed to tug at his insides so strongly that his hands began to shake.  He didn't want to come here, he didn't want to get shoved in this room, and he didn't want to wake up the Eye... but he did.  And now for some reason he didn't want it to all to be over just yet...

"No."  Fenter bit his lip.

"No?"  Verdigris looked his grandson in the eye.

"No, sir," Fenter replied, his voice quavering.  "I just couldn't do that."

Verdigris harrumphed.  "Well, YOU surely can't care for that thing.  You're too busy sleeping in late every morning and skipping out on half of your classes!  Just turn it over to the Temple and go home."

Fenter's shaking hands started to feel numb and his stomach felt as though there were a dragon trying to hatch out inside of it as well.  "I swear I'll do it."  His eyes shone with interest. "I know how to talk to it!  Just let me try!  You should have felt what I did during the ritual."

Verdigris paced closer to his grandson, his eyes narrowing and his voice deeper.  "I thought you didn't want to be a chaos mage?" he challenged.  "I thought you said you couldn't do anything with magic?"

"This was different!  Let me try, please."  Fenter reached out and grasped one of his grandfather's hands.  "If I need to learn more to do this, then I will.  But you've got to let me try.  I was the one who convinced him to come out of his egg.  Now I have to see it through to the end.  It trusts me."  Tears started to well up on his eyes.  "What kind of person would I be if I talked him into coming here by telling him how wonderful it would be outside, and then abandoning him before he'd even been out for an hour?"

Verdigris took a step back, but his grandson kept a deathgrip on his hand.  He was dumbstruck.  Never had he ever heard the boy sound so sincere.  He caught himself on the verge of smiling and quickly buried his feelings.  "Very well, I should be able to pull in a few favors.  It will be a lot of hassle, but I'll manage it."  He shook his free hand at his offspring.  "But you're to report to the Temple weekly.  This is quite a discovery, after all!"

"Of course!  Of course!  Thank you, Grampy, thank you!"  Fenter almost threw himself on his grandfather in an enthusiastic hug and then ran out the door.  "C'mon, Junior.  I'm going to show you the city!"

One month later, Verdigris was back in the Temple.  Sprocket stood behind him as the old raccoon finished up the work on the lighting systems.

"I have to admit... it did work.  He stood up for himself, and to you.

He's already taught the dragon to fly and..."

"Great Dragon."  Verdigris corrected his assistant.  "They're extremely rare and quite powerful, although Fenter's won't grow to its full size for another couple hundred years or so.  Still, it will probably make a wonderful guardian for Rephidim someday."  The old raccoon stood up to look at Sprocket.  "By the way, I've been told to reprimand whomever was responsible for the malfunctioning heating system at the exhibit."  He tapped the feline's nose, smirking.  "Bad."

"I have been duly reprimanded, sir. Odd how that temperature control valve just fell off when I accidentally bumped it with my wrench," Sprocket grinned.  "So tell me... how did you know that things would work out?  I've always heard you say that Fenter was nothing but a worthless idiot."

"Never mind what I said," Verdigris grunted and poked his head back into the panel.  "I have learned one lesson in life: that you can tell the true character of a man in times of great need.  It's in the midst of a battle that you can tell whether a man is a coward, a quitter, or a fighter.  I knew that Fenter's heart was, at bottom, courageous.  He just lacked self-discipline and self-confidence.  He only needed something to bring it out.  I also knew that the boy was in need of a friend, so I provided him with that as well."

The feline's head quirked sideways. "But how did you know he wouldn't curl up when the moment of truth came, if I may ask, sir?"

Verdigris paused in his work, rose to his feet, and carefully removed his eyepiece.  "It's because Fenter gets a lot of what he is from me, even the parts I don't care to admit existed at one time."  His aged features took on an almost wistful look, one Sprocket had never seen in the old man the entire time he'd known him.  "And if you tell a soul what I just said to you I'll have you thrown into the recycling pit quicker than you can change a hob-nut.  Do you understand?"

Sprocket contained a grin and nodded.  "I won't tell a soul, sir."

"Now go away.  All of you worthless idiot helpers just get in my way.  Leave me to my work."  Verdigris snapped a lens down on his goggles and made a shooing gesture to his assistant.

"As you wish, sir."  The feline bowed and quietly exited.  As he walked down the hallways of the Temple, he held his head higher than ever before.

(I asked my friend Jordan "Greywolf" Peacock to do illow for the story and decided just to work up a list of picture ideas.  About 3/4ths of these were used in the published version, but you'll have to buy PawPrints #10 to see them all!)

Potential spot illos... (No... I don't expect EACH and EVERY one of these to get used, these are just the ideas that come to mind)

Front page splash:  Fenter lying in bed in a really goofy position.  His mouth open and tongue hanging out, one arm and/or leg flopped over the side of the bed, maybe a book resting on his stomach.  try and make the room a bit cluttered and hint at his study habits by putting textbooks in the picture in odd places like holding up the leg of a table or buried under bottles or staked up under romance novels.  Maybe shove a few under his bed.  Also try and put some elements freom the story into the picture, a poster on the wall advertising the 'Great Eye', some statues of Peacocks, snakes, and other things on a shelf or a bookcase, or maybe a picture of 'Grampy' on the wall.

A picture of the invitation.  Just a letter folded into thirds with a wax seal and a ribbon on it.

Brother Sprocket talking to Verdigris.  Perhaps a picture of him standing behind Verdigris with his hands folded in front of him looking somber while Verdigris wears his typical growly look and messes with some wires in an open panel.

A grumbly Fenter walking down the streets of the Bazaar looking at his feet.  The image in my mind consists of him being drawn with lots of solid dark inking and then the activity around him inked much lighter and more staticky.  Make it look like there's lots of stuff going on around him, but he's not paying much attention to it.

Fenter at Nasth's booth cringing at a Yiffle in a cage while Nasth looks on with a smirk.  It's just a small pastry cart with a banner over it.  I don;t have any specific ideas for this.  Nasth is a generic Naga and you're free to take any design liberties you may with him, just don't make him into a massive python or a dinky garter.

A picture of the Kujaku at the party that nabs Fenter.  Stick him in a nice dinner suit and give him a generally bubbleheaded expression.  Perhaps a picture of him with his eyes closed and looking like he's talking about something while a glass of wine in his hand dribbles its contents onto the floor.

A bridge officer looking confusedly at a piece of paper in his hands.  Stick him in a snappy uniform and make him look important.  I never named a species for him because it didn;t seem all that important...  maybe make him a bat or a poodle?

Fenter sitting on some steps with a piece of cake in his lap.  Make him slouched down and giove him a really grumpy/bored expression.

Fenter getting pushed towards an open door with a giant glowing ball of marble up on a pedistal inside.  Maybe make all the characters in black silhouette (Fenter, a big guard holding on to him, abd a nuch of frightened looking poodles and peacocks) and show the doorway in front of them with the marble inside.

A picture of the marble itself on the pedistal.  Just an ornate greek looking thing with a beachball sized marble ball on it.  Where the iris would be is has a little black slash so it looks a bit like a 'closed' eye.  Try and draw some glowy effects to make it look like it's about to crack open or it's radiating something.

Fenter after getitng tossed into the room.  Draw him on his hands and knees on the floor looking hopeless and droopy with the pedistal silhouetted in front of him.  Maybe stick the piece of crumblecake in there along with him to hint at what's to come later.

Fenter doing his spell.  HEre's the image I have in mind for this... draw him against a completely black background with his eyes closed... make the circle a bunch of white dots at his feet and draw some little magic sumbols and swirlies around him in white.  Something to indicate that he's sort off in his own world and painting the images around him on his own.  Don't put any 'real' background elements in this picture

Verdigris looking very winded (maybe with his tongue hanging out, hie eyes bugged, and one hand clutching his chest) while a gray cat urges him on.

Verdigris knocking on the door to the chamber of the Eye with his staff.  A very stern and determined experssion on his face, maybe just a hint of worry.  Behind him (or standing in the background) is the big wolf guard and a few really freaked out and frightened looking poodles.

Verdigris talking to Fenter, the tip of his staff has been nipped off.  Make Verdigris look dour, Fenter looking downcast and nervous, and the dragon perched on his shoulder rather happy.  Verdigris should be looking at Fenter, Fenter should be looking down at his feet, and the dragon's head should be held up higher than Fenter's with a 'wheee!' look on his face (the dragon's oblivious to everything that's being said... he's just happy).

Fenter grabbing Verdigris' hand with a pleading expression on his face.  Verdigris looks confised and almost like he's about to pull away, Fenter looks desperate and almost at the point of tears.  the dragon on his shoulder is snoozing.

Verdigris and Sprocket in the Inner mysteries.  Verdigris is polishing the eyepiece he wears and smiling to himself, obviously saying something while Sprocket listens intently in the background, supressing a smirk.

The last picture is one that I'd really like to have at the very end of the whole story.  A silhouette image of Fenter leaping into the air like he's really happy and the dragon flapping over his head.  You know when someone jups up into the air when they're really happy?  That's the kind of thing I'd like.  Just make it a black silhouette... no detail.

Design notes.  FENTER IS FAT!!  He's not a lardball or anything, but he's not stocky or skinny.  He's short and squat and the widest point on him is his stomach,  he's probably only about four and a half feet tall.  Most people tower over him and his clothes and baggy, making him look even fatter and smaller than he really is.  Remember all that talk about shape psychology?  Fenter is made up of circles mostly.  His cheeks are rounded, his ears are rounded, even his sleeves end in fuzzy circles, try and keep the circle motif in his design as much as possible.