Auris closes the door behind herself.  She stands on the step, and lifts her face to the sky, closing her eyes, feeling the breeze against her skin, the warmth of the sun, listening to the cries of the seabirds and the distant crash of waves.

The surf blends with voices; the salt is marred by the stench of new civilization.  She opens her eyes, and begins to walk.

The japa mala beads are heavy in her hand as she nods to the guard at the gate.  She focuses on the feeling of the smooth hematite between her fingers, the words forming readily in her mind: Jaya mīris.  A bead slips through her grasp.  Victory to Miris.

The brothers put on a blatant deception.  Asa—Asphodel said as much himself.  I'm sorry to have deceived you.  How can she serve the Honorborn if she supports the deceivers?  But with all they've been through...   It can't be honorable to turn against them—can it?

Auris rolls the bead between thumb and forefinger, the dark stone quickly warming beneath her touch.  Jaya sūdā.  She lets it slide through, moving to the next.  Victory to Suda.

She gave her word she wouldn't harm Valerian lest he harmed her first.  But he—both of them—deceived her, and everyone here.  Is that so wrong?

Auris' stride is long and steady, and she takes in a deep, slow breath.  Jaya tambor.  She exhales, pulling another bead along her fingers.  Victory to Tembor.

He would support her, the Golden Eagle would support his Hawksarm, should she choose to go after them, should she choose to persecute them as the deceivers they are.  And yet...and yet.  Was their deception not necessitated by the circumstances?

She sighs, pushing aside the clutter of thoughts.  Jaya tṛtīyāḥ kalpanāḥ.  Victory to the Third Thoughts.

Her mind is silent a while as she walks, as she focuses purely on the mantras.  Jaya viskremā.  Victory to Viskrema, the Second Thought of Free Will.  Jaya rīyāsk.  Victory to Riask, the Second Thought of Logic.

Were their actions not logical?  They acted in their own protection.  But surely it can't be honorable to hide like that, from friend and foe alike, to do nothing against such evil as they found.  She's never tried to hide—not from the orcs, not from her past.  She claims it all, she claims herself, fully.

Jaya dreyānī.  Victory to Dreyani, the Second Thought of Life.

They did nothing?  They could do nothing!  Not against a power such as the other's, claiming control of their very minds.  What choice did they have, but deception or death?  Deception, death...or a life to which death was preferable.

Which would she choose?

Auris stops walking, her jaw tightening.  Death.  She would not lose her honor.  She would not aid those without it, and she would not lose it herself; she would choose death.

Breathe in deeply...  Breathe out fully...

Her body releases the tension, her shoulders relaxing downwards.  Jaya dvitīyāḥ kalpanāḥ.  She pauses on the bead...then moves it along her fingers with her thumb, passing to the next.  Victory to the Second Thoughts.  She begins to walk again, resuming her easy stride of before.

Jaya śivālī.  Victory to Shivali, the Slumbering One, She Who Makes Up the World.

The hard-packed sand begins to soften beneath her feet.

Jaya khalīnī.  Victory to Khalini, the Watchful One, She Who Watches Over All.

Her path curves gently until she walks along the jungle's edge, keeping a careful distance from the trees.

Jayānkrī.  Victory to Ankri, the First Thought of Creation, the Mother, She Who Is Khalini and Shivali, She Who Is All.

Jaya prathamāḥ kalpanāḥ.  Victory to the First Thoughts.

Her mind falls silent, though her feet continue forward.  The japa mala rests loosely in her hand, its weight grounding.  The emerald depths of the jungle call to her, inviting her closer.  There's a twinkling shimmer of light between the trees, perhaps from an insect's wings, and the dappled sunlight brings glorious hues to the plants.

Someone watches her.

She turns, but there's no one there.  Auris shakes her head.  All these thoughts of deceit...  She turns the mala in her hand, moving back through the beads as she walks back towards town.

Jayānkrī.  Jaya khalīnī.  Jaya śivālī.  Jaya prathamāḥ kalpanāḥ.

The Thoughts are all in balance.  Just as Ankri became Shivali, became all of existence, just as she became Khalini, to watch over it, so she remained as Ankri, that force of non-existence that had, that fulfilled, that is the First Thought.

Jaya dreyānī.

Where there is life, there is death.

Jaya rīyāsk.

Where there is reason, there is chaos.

Jaya viskremā.

Where there is free will...there are those who are stripped of it.

...Jaya dvitīyāḥ kalpanāḥ.

The First Thoughts—even the Second Thoughts—are without judgment.  They are not good, nor are they evil.  They simply...are.

Jaya tambor.

Tembor is not merely the Thought of War, but of all conflict—and thus, of the growth that arises from it, of the growth that comes when beliefs are challenged, re-examined.

Jaya sūdā.

Suda is not merely the Thought of Sorrow, but of all emotion—and thus, of the relief, of the joy Valerian and Asphodel felt...in this brief reprieve from fear.

Deception, death, or a life to which death was preferable...

Auris' hand pauses on the mala.  Had they chosen death, they wouldn't be here now.  They wouldn't have experienced that relief, that joy—they wouldn't have the chance they do now, and the true deceivers, those entirely without honor, would find it a mere inconvenience in their plans, nothing more.  They would continue, with none to oppose them.

Miris...  The Honorborn, yes, but also the Masked One.  Miris, the Thought of Deceit.

All is in balance, honor to oppose deceit.  Where it is possible to tell a lie, the truth becomes significant.

In life, they must serve a dishonorable master, must aid the other's family in its machinations.  In escape, they must deceive, deceive the family, deceive the world.  In death, they must give up the chance to save others, to blot out that master.  Would that not be a dishonorable choice?  Would not the honorable choice become escape, deception?

The bead is warm in her grasp.

They are honorable, then, even in—because of—their deception.

A chill wind sweeps past her, raising the hairs on her arms, and she turns, staring back at the jungle, holding her shoulder where the fur brushed against it, the scent lingering—sitting on Bloodsinger's lap, wrapped in her fur cloak, listening to her tales...

Auris exhales abruptly, blinking, and brushes one hand along the corner of her eye.  She looks at the jungle again, and shakes her head, walking back to town.

...Jaya mīris.