Something draws Auris from sleep, several nights later, and she lies there, silent, willing herself to drift off again.  The scratching continues, and at last she sits up, looking over toward the window, blinking against the darkness.  Marran is there, focused on the wall, scratching at it—carving it.

"Oi, now," Auris frowns, "if you'd like to build your own house, you can do that there."

He looks back at her with a weak glare.

Auris raises a brow, unimpressed.  He continues carving.  "Marran.  You will cease defacing my property, or I will stop you myself."

"The place could use some decoration."

Auris slips free of the blankets, striding forward and catching his wrist in one hand.  "That is not the sort of decoration it needs."

Marran turns, his lip curled in a scowl.

"I have invited you into my house," Auris says, "shared with you what I have—this is not the way to treat your host."

He tugs against her grasp.  "Don't touch me."

"Don't carve my walls."  A beat, and Auris sighs, releasing his hand.  She'd much prefer to go back to bed.  "If you insist on carving, there's plenty of wood about that's not otherwise in use."

"What would you rather I carve, then?"

"Mother help me," Auris mutters, raising a hand to her forehead.  "Driftwood from the beach, something from Alboba..."

"Driftwood isn't decorative."

"I've seen it used as decoration."

"I don't decorate with driftwood."

"And I don't decorate with star charts, but here they are, because I invited you into my space, and you brought them with you."

"The carving won't take up much space."

"That is not the issue."

"Then I fail to see the issue."

"You're being—"  She cuts herself off with a growl.

"If I could just go back to my own house—"

"You mean the elf's house, where their influence no doubt extends quite nicely from headquarters."

Marran rolls his eyes, raising the knife as he turns back to the wall.

"Are you a child?"  She didn't mean to raise her voice like that, but Marran's in the corner, knife held before him, eyes wide and wild, and Auris freezes.  She can feel the air, Miris' power swirling about her, and fights to calm it, to soothe her temper.

"Don't touch me," Marran whispers, the knife trembling in his hand.  "Don't come near me."

"What in the world has been happening with you these past few days..."

Marran slowly lowers his hand, curling in on himself.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Marran.  I simply...forgot myself a moment."  A flash of guilt, and she's on the field, and it's silent, and—she pushes the thought away.  "Unless you attack me first, I will not harm you; I can promise you that."

Marran nods a little, his gaze fixed on the ground.  There's a quiet thump as he falls back against the wall, a clatter as the knife falls from his hand, and he slides down to the floor, drawing his knees up to his chest.  "Sorry..."

"I accept your apology," Auris says, regarding him with some concern, "but do tell me...what's been happening lately?"

Marran shakes his head.  "It's the new moon.  The new moon is..."  A long pause.  "The new moon does weird things."

"Why the moon?"

"The moon is...everything."

"Everything?"

"It's very important to us."

"Us?"

"Me and everyone else..."

"The family?"

Marran shrinks down, ducking his head away.  "Yeah..." he says slowly, uncertainly.

"Who, Marran?" Auris asks, her voice softening.  "It's all right; you can trust me."

"I..."  He looks at her, and exhales, releasing his legs to sit up.  ...Has he lost weight?

Auris frowns, looking at him more closely...  His eyes.  His eyes are the wrong color.  "Who are you?"

Those eyes, several shades too light, go wide.  "I-I-I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're not showing your true form.  Who—what are you?"

Marran shrinks back.  "How, how do you know that?"

"As an agent of Miris Honorborn," Auris begins, and the power coalesces around her, its presence certain, anchoring, "she who holds domain over Honor as the absence of Deceit, I command you reveal yourself."

"I, I told you myself—I'm so stupid—I—"  He shivers—but no, his skin ripples, the first signs of gray vanishing from his hair, and his eyes glimmer golden brown in the starlight, peering out from a thinner face that's lost its olive undertones to become a light brown.  Auris can only stare at him.  "...I told you I wasn't a person," Marran says in a voice choked by fear.  "I—I told you.  Are you going to kill me?"

"I—  What?"  Auris pulls her expression back to equilibrium.  "I gave you my word," she says carefully.  "Unless you attack me first, I will not harm you.  I ask again: who, or what, are you?"

Marran, or whoever he's become, stares up at her through a fringe of black hair, and she abruptly realizes she's been looming over them.  "That's what most people try when they find a changeling," Marran says quietly, their gaze following Auris as she sits cautiously on the ground across from them.  Then, quieter still, "My name is Valerian."

"Valerian," Auris repeats with a nod.  Her mind reels.  "Is the elf also...?"

"No."  Valerian shakes their head, the motion halfway to a shiver.

"Did they...what did they do to you?"

"Just...studied me a bit..."

"Studied?"

Valerian flinches, and Auris shakes her head, raising a hand in apology.

"I only wish to help," she says.

"They...wanted to know how to make more," they mumble.  "More who could...change."

"What did they do?"

"Just...looked at what they needed."  They've pulled the sleeves of their shirt down over their hands, holding their arms close to their body.  "But they couldn't find what makes me...why I can do that."

The conversation lapses to silence.  "And then...?" Auris prompts.

"Then...they trained me, instead.  It wasn't...it was better.  I got to go outside again.  And I heard about all of this, about the continent and all, and I asked if I could come here, to research the plant life.  And they let me come.  And now here I am."  They're smiling a little now, happy, proud of themself.

"They...what did they do to you?"  It's little more than a whisper.  "They let you outside again?"  A beat.  "And what do you mean, they 'looked at what they needed'?"

"Just...that," Valerian says, glancing aside.  "Just...you know...trying to figure out if...if it's...blood, or...an organ, or...something."

"They—"  She stares at them in horror.  "Why?"

"They wanted to make more.  To be assassins.  You can't—it's a lot easier to not get caught when you can look however you want.  But it...didn't work."

"So they trained you."

Valerian nods, still not meeting her eyes.  "The other taught me.  They all taught me, but the other taught me the most.  How to use the shadows, how to code my words...  I already knew how to lie.  Comes with being a changeling.  You kind of have to know."

"The people who did this to you...  I follow Miris Honorborn; deceit can not be let to stand.  But...you are the victim here, beyond a doubt," she says, her voice strengthening.  "They are the ones without honor, and the enemy of my enemy," Auris stands, reaching a hand out to them, "is my friend."

The briefest hesitation, and they take her hand, and she helps them to their feet.

"We must see to the other," Auris says.  "This cannot be allowed to continue..."  She trails off, and pinches the bridge of her nose.  "Aiy, we're not ready for this..."

"Ready?" Valerian asks tenuously.

"No, we'll—we'll keep you safe; don't worry.  It's only...they put me in charge of these things; haven't you heard?  No, there has to be a different person for every task, and criminal affairs...  Aiy, but the Defense Force isn't even fully organized yet, and now..."

"I...I'm sorry?"

"No, it's not your fault.  We'll make do.  I'll need..."  She looks at them.  "...I'll need you to repeat what you've told me."

Valerian's heel hits the wall, giving away their retreat.  "To who?"

"A panel.  A...jury.  I've seen it once or twice.  Could it be only the arbitrator?" she muses to herself.  "Well, I am the one building it.  Do I trust others to follow well?"  Auris shakes her head.  "No matter.  You couldn't speak freely if the elf were present, could you?"

"...Probably not."

"Then...a written version, yes.  Though it would need to be verified...  Asa!  She's a councilmember and the captain of the Defense Force—and I trust her.  Could you repeat what you've told me for the two of us to record, for the written document to be used to condemn the elf?"

"I...I haven't met her yet.  But if you think she would be best..."

Auris nods.  Something stirs in the back of her mind, the flicker of an idea, but she brushes it aside.  "I'll speak with her tomorrow."

"...Thank you, Auris.  I'm sorry to bring all of this on you..."

"Don't be," Auris says with a shake of her head.  "I'd rather have a chance to do something about it.  And," she adds, catching their glance to the crescent moon carved into the wall, "I'm sure Alboba can fix that up."

"I'll find her for you.  As soon as I can."

"Thank you."

"Thank—thank you."

Auris nods, slowly climbing back into bed.  "Get some rest," she murmurs.  "...You're welcome."