Having llhaesa agree to play was the single most important step in Olterian’s plan to hold the Nenseru Woods concert. As he drove along the boringly straight and light of traffic highway, his mind was actively pondering the coming concert and what he needed to accomplish to bring it to fruition.

Marketing was not a concern; that would be handled by the Equal Rights, Equal Genders crowd. They assured him there would be a sizeable turnout, and llhaesa set no minimum salary for her services. Or rather M’traliel had not set a minimum for llhaesa’s services.

And while there were rumblings of late of a more engaged and less willing to tolerate free speech government, staging a private event remained legal, even if the performer was banned from government facilities and functions.

Olterian had run like the wind the last time he was faced with a politically interested and involved performer, and would forever live with his guilt for own reprehensible conduct.

Inside, he still yearned for E’sphara, still lamented their separation, but it was his own bloody fault. “I’d never speak to me again either, if I were her” he mused.

Still, something pushed Olterian towards take the time to drive out to the Artist’s Colony, even as he feared having a door slammed right back in his face. It was a risk he was willing to take. His moment of decision came precisely because of and at the exit to the route which would take him west and towards E’sphara.

Two hours later, Olterian arrived at the gate to the compound, the gate barring vehicular traffic beyond that point. Walk in traffic was permitted only as far as the main office, which is as far as he wished to go anyway.

After a brisk 5 minute walk along a winding pathway in the woods, he approached the office door, using the old fashioned and intricate metal knocker to announce his calling. Although it was a place of business, this was an informal one at best, and for Olterian to walk on in uninvited would be bad form.

The door slowly opened, the person responsible for its backward retreat now looked upon him disdainfully, E’sphara’s inner feeling of pain betrayed by the wince upon her face. “Hello, E’sphara” he offered sheepishly, lowering his head and averting a look into her eyes.

Still, E’sphara failed to speak. She also failed to close the door. Instead, she turned and walked back into the office, leaving the door open for Olterian to follow.

As he walked in, his eyes found her already back behind her desk, settling into what appeared to be a very comfortable chair. He moved toward one of the two chairs which faced her desk, walked around the first and moved to occupy the seat.

“Forgive my intrusion, E’sphara. Of all people, I don’t belong setting in front of you, prepared to ask for your assistance. Yet, the reason I’ve come outweighs my personal discomfort, and hope you will see the pragmatism of my action as well.” Olterian began hopefully.

E’sphara looked at him, started to speak, and then promptly stopped. Offering a quiet sigh of exasperation, she tried again. “Olterian, that was the past, and the circumstances were different. We were on a path to bonding, and when the government lackeys came after me, you panicked and ran to save yourself. You left me to face it all on my own. All of the pain, all of the rehabilitation, all of coming to terms with losing my career.

You aren’t here to beg for my love, you are here for llhaesa.”

“ll-ll-llhaesa?” Olterian muttered before he could catch himself. “How did you know?”

“I may live in remote country, but I am well connected, Olterian. Just as it is for you, it behoves me to be aware of current doings in the artistic community, particularly with music. It so happens that shortly before your arrival, llhaesa called to say she had met with you, and wished to know whether you should be trusted.”

Olterian’s jaw dropped as far as was physically possible.