The diminutive Ghurkha warrior stands up to his waist in the dark and murky water of the Sacramento river that runs a few miles west of the temple, a section that is both quiet and powerful. It resonates in a deep place within the Shadow, reflecting the Beast that nestles around his soul, a natural part of the world and his existence within it.

Jayant held in his hands an urn, a small thing he had found in the temple and had swept the ashes of Master Paresh and Brother Mako within, trying to be as respectful as possible. It was difficult, for his usually focused mind was awash with colliding thoughts.

Who would take over as the Circle's leader?

Who would guide him?

Could he protect Valencia?

At the final thought, Jayant glanced to the bank of the river where Valencia sat, holding the tattered teddy close to her, staring across the black night to where he stood.

Yes, I can and I will, he thought, submerging the urn into the river and allowing the ashes to float away in the current.

"May the Mother watch and guide your journey together through the void of eternity, and may you grant your servant the will to protect what is left behind."

Jayant Nagaraj, Ghurkha warrior, of the Mekhet Clan through the Khaibit bloodline and Acolyte of the Crone, leaves the river and takes Valencia's hand in his own, leading her back to the temple with a new focus in his Requiem.