"Do you know why you are imprisoned here?" the Prophet suddenly questioned from Sorran's left, his voice containing a hint of mocking. Sorran thought for a moment, before replying. "I committed Heresy." the once Sangheili Minor spoke softly, hanging his head. The Prophet went behind him, as if sizing him up. "And do you truly believe you did?" the Minister asked, and Sorran frowned ever so slightly. [i]Do I?[/i] he thought to himself, clacking his two lower mandibles together in thought. He knew the answer, but would it be wise to say it in front of the Prophet? Then again, why not? He was already on death row, what more could the Covenant do to him. "Nay, I do not." Sorran replied, surprised to hear the anger in his voice. He heard the Prophet chuckle as if the Minister had won a small victory. "Wonderful. Truly wonderful. And tell me, Sorran, what is your opinion of the High Prophet Truth?" Sorran gave his opinion of Truth, in a colourful and disgraceful way which would have made even the most bashful of people flush in disbelief. As it was though, the Prophet facing Sorran merely smiled. It wasn't a cold, sly smile like Truth had worn; rather a warm, secretive one. "Indeed Sorran, indeed." the Minister stated ambiguously, still looking at the imprisoned Sangheili speculatively. Sorran began to get annoyed. "Do you have something of import to convey to me Minister or are you but wasting the precious time I have left?" the Sangheili Heretic snapped, but this seemed to please the Prophet even more. "Tell me Sorran; how would you wish to live again?" the Prophet asked, and Sorran's eyes snapped open. He turned to look at the Minister, who had a look of genuine curiosity upon his features. "I would wish nothing more, noble one." Sorran blurted out. The Minister nodded, drawing a scroll out from his person. "I have here with me a pardon from the High Council, to be used as I will. Truth and the other Hierarchs do not know about it." the Prophet informed Sorran, turning the scroll to face him. It seemed official, the parchment had the noble seals of all the greatest Councillors. Sorran couldn't speak for a moment, but managed to finally find his voice. "But...the Council voted to condemn me!" Sorran cried in protest, and the Minister grimaced, gesturing upwards in the general area of the Brute Warden standing outside. Sorran apologised softly, but without any real meaning. "Would it come as a huge surprise to you Sorran, when I tell you that the Council voted to spare you, by a three unto one margin? The bastard Truth masked this choice." the Prophet told Sorran slowly, and a few moments later the implications of these words fully struck Sorran. "I--he did?" the Sangheili asked, hurt evident in his voice. The nameless Minister nodded in sympathy. "I'm afraid so. However, I have had this decision overturned, although none must know of it. Not the Brutes, not Truth, not even your friends, Zharn and Ahkrin." the Prophet instructed Sorran gravely. "How do you know about those two?" Sorran asked, referring to the latter. The Minister chuckled. "We know a great deal about you Sorran. And I am willing to offer you a new life, and a place on my Honour Guard." [i]The Honour Guard.[/i] A noble position awarded to but the elite few amongst the Sangheili. But what did the Prophet mean by 'we'? "How will I escape here?" Sorran asked. He could not believe his own words. To think, he was conspiring to commit high heresy! The Prophet did not seem affected by this worry. "Oh, that is simple enough. Do you wish to come with me?" the Minister asked. After few foolish moments of hesitation, Sorran nodded sharply. The Minister drew out a device and clicked it once. Immediately, the energy manacles restraining Sorran deactivated, and Sorran fell to the cold flagstones below, bruising his knees. He looked up to see the Prophet smiling down at him, hand outstretched. Sorran grasped it, and pulled himself up. He looked around. "How are we to get past the Brute Warden up top?" Sorran asked, looking at the Minister, who merely held up the three fingers of his left hand. One dropped, and then another. [i]A countdown.[/i] The final finger fell. There was a great, startled cry of pain from high above, outside of the cell. That of a Brute's. Sorran looked at the Prophet, who nodded. "I believe that is the signal to leave. One of my Honour Guard awaits us with a set of armour for you. Come, let us move." the Minister commanded, already leaving the small circular base and heading up the stairs. Sorran ran after him. "Hold, will it not look suspicious when I am missing from my cell?" the Sangheili asked, holding up a sweating hand. The Prophet shook his head. "We have a dead clone of you Sorran; imperfect of course, but enough the fool the wardens into thinking you died overnight. It happens." said the Minister, and Sorran's jaw dropped, they'd prepared a clone? That took days. Surely they hadn't been able to take a DNA sample as soon as he arrived at High Charity. . . "A clone? Forgive my ignorance noble one, but I must question; who are you?" Sorran questioned, and the Prophet looked back. "Right now, I am the one saving your life. My name is Restraint."