The soup tasted odd but she slurped it hungrily all the same. An earthy, plant-like taste that was gritty on the palate and grainy on the tongue. Only when the bowl was finished and the Leoth maid moved to refill it did she start to wonder what might be in it. Some of the trees natural to this land can be poisonous to your kind.. Were they trying to poison her?

No. Of course not. What in the gods purpose would that serve?

Her mind was merely exhausted, stoking frenzy and over suspicion like flames licking at the inside of her skull. Nothing the Leoth had done to her thus far had been covert. If he wanted her dead he would use his sword. He would open her throat as easily as he had opened Galyn's. Why order his maid to do it through a soup? Had she the energy she would have laughed at the idea.

She did not know what had passed between him and his maid in their salient, Leoth tongue, but she was certain it was not an instruction to poison her the moment he was out of sight.

She thought of her own illicit motive. So quickly considered and all but forgotten now. Had she the energy she would have laughed at this too. Had she really thought to seduce him? Had she really thought to gain his trust, to somehow trick him? Him; the commander of the Leoth and Zybar armies?

Had her mind always been so utterly and hopelessly foolish? A little girl playing in a dangerous world of men.

Oh, but of course it had. Had not she seduced Galyn with similar folly? Had not she brought forth the war and destruction of Azura because of her own selfishness? Had not she lied to the king of Zybar and signed Arielle's fate because she thought only of herself and her own survival? Not only had she always been foolish, but she had also always been selfish. And fate had seen fit to deliver her punishment for it.

A prisoner here. His prisoner. A collared possession with no chance at all of saving Azura or Arielle.

She wondered if Arielle lived still. Or whether she was at this moment within The Great Palace of Hellaphinia with Galyn and Sylvan, where the truth what Fara had done would be apparent to all.

She would never be allowed through the hallowed gates of Hellaphinia - this much was known. Sin upon sin upon sin would ensure her own fate when she left this living realm. She would never get the chance to explain to them, to beg their forgiveness. To make them understand why she had chosen the path of darkness over light. Would never get to explain to Galyn that yes she had used dark, forbidden magic to capture his heart - but she had loved him all the same. To tell him that she had loved him more than any living soul since Cassie. And that she had loved him because he had saved her.

'Rest, that is what you need, makya,' The Leoth woman said, cutting through her dreary exhausted thoughts. 'Now, since he did not tell me where you are to sleep, I will take you to the lower keep. It is much warmer down there and you still shake like a newborn.'

Fara watched through gauzy eyes as the woman placed several large stones onto the furnace with a pair of steel tongs before coming to help Fara up from the table.

Like Theodan, the woman was unnaturally warm to the touch, and when she placed an arm around Fara's shoulders it was so desperately welcome that her knees almost gave out in gratitude. Comfort and warmth, oh how she had been starved from it.

'Ahh, I have you. That is so child,' she cooed. Fara leaned against the woman, breathing deeply of the comforting piney scent that emanated from her. It seemed an aged, feminine form of Theodan's own. Like Leoth males, the women were also larger than human females. Taller with wide shoulders, they bore the distinct sharp features, dark eyes and black nails of the race. Theodan's maid, however, showed her age in the way she stooped slightly, and in the streaks of dull silver that swept through her dark braided hair.

Out of the kitchen, they entered a large cave-like atrium where the ground beneath her feet changed from hard uneven rock into a black polished stone. Patterns and ancient markings were etched around the edges of the large circular stone floor and as they moved across it she noticed a deep kind of heat move up pleasantly through the soles of her feet.  It felt old, this space, an archaic cavity which had stood since the dawn of the age.  She was sure if she listened hard enough she would hear the echoes of time whisper across the bedrock. Flickering voices licking across the flames of the lit torches which sat in their holds around the space.

The interior of Theodan's home was as vast as the exterior had suggested it to be; a home carved into the upper peak of the great mountain itself and moulded from the body of the largest tree Fara had ever seen. The tree warped and wrapped itself around the inside of the space, before disappearing outside and thrusting itself back in at a higher point. Mirroring the arch of the great tree was a carved wooden stairway which spiralled upwards through the vast atrium, curving past what appeared to be several levels of living quarters. She imagined him stalking angrily around one of the upper chambers, cursing the moment he decided to save her from the Zybar, cursing the moment he set eyes on her, cursing her name over and over to the dark god himself. Though just as she had this thought she felt her collar vibrate dully and it sent a shot of fear up her spine.

She became aware then of the sound of rushing water behind her, and when she turned and looked up she found the source of it; a powerful waterfall pouring down from an opening in the rock. A few levels above where they stood, the water entered the atrium and cascaded down one side of the rock face into the bowels of the mountain somewhere. From where the water entered at its highest point she moved her eye up and across, where at the very top of the space - the roof of the dwelling - she saw a large circular hole open to the night sky above.

'Wait here child, the lower keep is unlit - we will need torches to see our own feet,' Mor muttered, moving away from Fara towards the wall of shimmering torchlights.

Fara stopped, still gazing upward at the large open void from where the moonlight poured in. Louder now was the throbbing of the steel at her throat, it hummed against her skin, pulling at her blood, quickening her heart. It seemed oddly distant though, as the draw of the night sky called to her louder, singing a siren's call that lulled her towards the centre of the large atrium. The moon spilled white onto the black polished stone floor in an almost perfect circle, a solid, projected image of the moon itself.  As she turned to look up at the perfectly framed Leoth moon her breath caught in her throat at the sight. It was larger and brighter than any moon she had ever seen in any place, and it sat bold and proud against the black of the night sky. Like the strike of a hand or a whip, she felt its power hit her. She felt its command over this land and all who dwelt upon it. Mighty and righteous. Angry at being kept hidden by the presence of a selfish sun. It screamed it's dominance at her from the heavens. It demanded obedience.

My power over you here, under this moon, is such that you cannot even begin to comprehend.

A slow peeling sensation began to crawl across her skull, down her spine, to the tips of her toes. Her mouth turned suddenly dry as bone, the breath inside her body frozen as her blood turned to ice. She tried to back away from the cold lunar gaze but found she could not. Found she could not move her body or avert her eyes or take a single necessary breath because when she tried to it's grip on her body only grew tighter. A cold hand around her throat. Squeezing. The blood beneath her skin. Wild. Her heart inside her chest. Humbled.

She became dimly aware once more of that soft thrumming sensation from the metal at her neck, a warming heat which fought against the chill moving through her veins.

'Help...' She gasped, dropping to her knees upon the marble floor. 'Goddess, please ... help me... please.' On her back now the heat from the stone soothed her spine, called her back to the earth, but still she could not look away from the deadly moon above. Theodan's maid was crouched by her side now she realised, shouting words in Leoth which she did not understand. They echoed loudly around the atrium as the pale moon glared down at her from above, cold and unmoving. Did it wish her dead? She had heard tale of the power of the Leoth moon, its power to grant life, to take it away, to alter all which lay before it.

It was beautiful.

She accepted that in her final moments of consciousness.

It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. The most powerful thing she had ever seen. Her throat closed and her eyes streamed but she could not close them to the sight of it. Even as it sucked the life from her body she cried tears for its beauty. Like the statues in the Goddess' temple who now seemed to be made from the Leoth moon's very image, the brought her body to its knees. Its beauty was obscured suddenly as Theodan appeared above her, eclipsing the moon above. Sliding his hands under her body, he lifted her from the ground as though she weighed no more than air and carried her away from the light of the moon's glare. As the air flooded back into her body a deep relieving darkness claimed her.

***

The first time she came awake her eyes were open for only a moment. By the bed stood a breathtaking Leoth female, observing her suspiciously. Before succumbing to darkness once more she heard her whisper something quietly in that strange Leoth tongue.

"Phyrista...."

The second time she came awake it was not with sight, only sound and scent. The sound of Theodan's voice as he spoke  - quiet, authoritative and urgent. His scent -familiar, soothing and necessary - before sleep claimed her once more.

The final time she woke it was with the feeling of having slept for a great length of time. Her bones soft and heavy with sleep, but her body clear and free of the horror which had taken her to darkness. She was upon a soft bed and covered in sweetly scented fabrics and when she opened her eyes fully she saw the canopied bed was in the centre of a modestly furnished chamber where a fire glowed some distance from the foot of the bed. On a high backed wooden chair, Theodan sat gazing into the flames. She was propped up on a wealth of cushions, and as she became more aware she realised that her body had been stripped of its travel cloak and tunic, and redressed in a soft thin sleeping gown. Upon her head was a damp cloth, which slid off as she shifted her body up to sitting. She lifted it to inspect it and found that it was in fact a parcel of pungent-smelling herbs which had been soaked in something equally as pungent. Her nose wrinkled in distaste. This cold, harsh land of Leoth was indeed trying to kill her.

Her mouth was dry like bone and so she looked around in the hope that some water had been left nearby. On the stand by the bedside was a pewter bowl and jug, but it was not clear what they might contain. Adjacent to the canopied bed was a veranda, where a thin silk curtain danced in the breeze of the oncoming day. A dull orange glow hovered at the edge of the chamber and she could not recall a time when she had longed for the sun as much as she did now.

A dreadful shudder pulled at her teeth at the memory of the moon's lingering grasp on her body.  What in the gods had happened?  She had felt nothing like it before. Nothing like the way it seemed to long for her. To remove her from this earth and deliver her to some land of eternal night. As impossible as it was she hoped to never to see the moon again as long as she lived.

Then, as though he could hear her insolent thoughts toward his beloved moon, Theodan's head turned toward her. His dark eyes were framed with dark circles, but there was something else, something that shocked her. He looked almost... relieved at the sight of her sitting up and awake, the tension and worry dispersing from his refined features. Standing up slowly from the chair he crossed the chamber towards where she lay. A short distance from the bed he stopped, his dark eyes studying every feature of her face in silence, as though searching for something on them.

'I will send for the Laakari again now that you are awake,' he said finally. 'Mor insisted he eat while you slept.' She gave him a look of confusion. 'Laakari is..' he searched for the word. '...what you call a healer,' he clarified.

Fara said nothing as he nodded and strode from the room, returning a short time later with an elderly-looking Leoth dressed in a bright red, floor-length cloak of sorts which had silver markings on the collar and around the long sleeves.  She tried to read them as he lifted her wrist and sniffed at it loudly before he moved to press his cold damp fingers to her temples. She tensed as he then pulled off the bedclothes to check the soles of her feet. Theodan watched pensively from the side, saying nothing but looking tense.  When the healer opened her eyes wide and held a small piece of polished silver to them, before commanding her to show him her tongue so he could do the same, Fara had to stifle the urge to laugh.  When she was handed a cup of delicately flavoured water however all of her doubt dispersed, and she sat up and took it eagerly before immediately holding the cup out for more. It was like nectar to her dry coarse throat. The healer filled her cup with ordinary water from the jug that Mor had brought in at the Healer's back.

Lastly, he lifted the damp parcel of herbs that had fallen from her forehead and handed her another, larger, parcel which he instructed her to keep against the back of her neck. Then he waved some powder around her head and went to confer by the fireplace with Theodan.

'You look much improved, Makya,' she said, fluffing the pillows out behind her before setting her back against them and placing the soft parcel of fragrant herbs at her neck. 'What a fright you gave us all.' Fara sniffed. All? Theodan would be glad to be rid of her she wagered. 'What a toilsome time you have had sweet child,' Mor sighed, her face etched with concern.

'What happened?' Fara asked, her voice raw and scratchy. Mor moved to refill her cup. 'The Moon... it was...' what had it been? Fara could never truly describe what it had done with any accuracy. 'It was as though I felt it inside me... In my bones, my blood'

Unexpectedly, Mor nodded. Then she leaned closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. 'Azurian blood calls to the night, makya. The Leoth moon comes to claim it.'

But... she was not of Azurian blood? She looked at Theodan who was now leading the Laakari from the chamber. Had the moon somehow divulged her secret?  Did he now know for certain who she was? Who she was not?  'I don't understand?' Fara shook her head. 

Mor tilted her head, as though of course Fara could not understand such a thing.  She reached out and touched her fingers to the steel collar about Fara's neck. 'It's inscribed for your protection,' she said.  'It binds, but it also protects.  Binds you to him,' she gestured toward the door of the chamber, towards Theodan.  'Protects you from Him.'  Her voice was a thin whisper, her eyes looking downward. Him?

'But... but it didn't protect me?' 

Mor nodded, gravely.  'Tis a rare thing that the call of the Dark God is so strong...' 

'What does that mean?'

Mor opened her mouth to speak but closed it as Theodan approached.

'Leave us, Mor,' he said from the foot of the bed. Touching her fingers to Fara's cheek, Mor quickly disappeared from the room.

'You feel recovered?' Theodan asked when they were alone. Fara looked at him: though the light had begun to stream into the chamber, his eyes were still their usual dark shade, only barely flickering with flecks of purple light.

'Much, thank you.' The gratitude had fallen unbidden from her tongue and she resented her own mouth for it. He nodded, rather awkwardly, and moved around the foot of the bed so that he stood adjacent to the open veranda. As she sipped at her cup of water the silence grew loud between them.

'Your maid tells me my Azurian blood was the cause of it?' Fara asked carefully, lowering her cup to her lap. She was certain she saw his eyes flicker a little brighter, before dimming once more.

'Mor never has learned to keep silent on matters which are above discourse.'

'So she ought not to warn me that your hellish moon might seek to hasten my end?' Fara flared, incredulous.

'I promised to protect you from those who seek to harm you did I not??' he flared back, insult clouding his features. 'Do you still question my word, female? Or is it my ability?'

'You brought me here under a full moon knowing the risk?  How is that keeping me safe from harm, commander?'

He froze, his growl silenced before a look of guilt crept slowly across his face. Finally, he glanced away from her eyes, defeated. Oddly, she felt no triumph at the sight of his defeat.

'The effect of the full moon on those from Azura's realm is... unpredictable,' he replied after a long moment, eyes still diverted from hers. 'There are tales of Azurian women able to walk uncollared under it and remain untouched. There are also tales of those turned to ash at the very sight of it.  The risk is great,' He closed his eyes. 'It was my failing.  I should have been more careful,' he conceded.  He lifted his head and looked at her directly.  'I ask that you forgive me.'

She stiffened.  Forgive him?

Forgive. Him?

He was asking her forgiveness? No. She would not give it. She could not give it. It felt then like the only power she had and so she clamped her mouth shut tight and bit her tongue. When it was clear she would say nothing more, a peculiar look of vulnerability crept into his eyes that she did not care for. She glanced away from it.

From the side of her eye, she saw him turn away from her toward the sunlight, where he took a deep breath of the sea bathed air which floated into the chamber. She noticed there was a deep red bite mark etched into the side of his neck, as though he had recently been in battle with a large wolf or some other sharp-clawed animal. The wound looked to have been deep and raw but was healing well. It looked weeks old. Yet, she was certain it had not been there back in Azura. Curious.

Then she remembered.

'There was a woman here?' she blurted, her mind trying to recall the foggy details of the beautiful Leoth with hair as white as the moon itself. 'Not Mor, another woman. She watched over me as I slept.'

She saw him tense, but he did not turn around. 'Yes. I bade her watch over you while I fetched the Laakari.'

'She resides here, with you?'

Fara's enemies were many. In the very air and sky itself. So she reasoned she needed to know who this woman was in the circumstance that she too wished her harm.

'No. She does not.'

The silence stretched on, questions rising and falling on her tongue before one held true.

'How long did I sleep?'

'A day and a night.'

She gaped. 'So the moon has risen again?'

He turned back to her and nodded. 'And you slept soundly through it. Only the full moon poses a threat to you, and it will not rise again until thirty-two nights from now.' The question was unsaid but Theodan supplied the answer all the same. 'I will ensure you are safe from it when it arrives, I promise you.'

She glanced away from his eyes again, unable to have the weight in them fully upon her own. They had the power to suffocate it seemed. To expose. To leave breathless and confused. 

She gazed around the comfortable chamber, at how well kept it was, at the rich but modest furnishings. When she felt stronger she brought her eyes back to his.

'Why did you bring me here?'

'Because you were not safe there.'

'And why is my safety so important to you? I am a slave. And a poor one at that. What use have you of a poorly trained slave who cannot survive more than thirty-three days here?'

He said nothing, his dark gaze trained solely on her. Again she felt stifled. Again she felt her heartbeat quicken and her breathing shorten. Suffocating. But this time when she tried to look away from him she found she could not. Did he command her not to look away from him? Could she be given such a silent command? The collar thrummed.  It binds but it also protects.  His grip was warmer than that of his moon and she could feel the heat from his body from where she lay and it warmed her from the outside in.

'Am I to live in constant fear and uncertainty?' she asked then, her voice detestably weak.

Another look passed over his eyes, his own uncertainty, his own need for something unspoken.  He took a deep breath.  'Some of the answers you seek, I am prepared to give you,' He said, his voice softer than she had ever heard it. 'But I would require the same honesty of you in return.'

She felt a flutter of fear which grew quickly so that it was a hundred flapping wings inside her chest. 'This collar gives you such power over me, yet it cannot command truth from my tongue?'

He smiled a small smile. 'It cannot.  But the truth will hold favour with me if you choose to give it freely.'

'You think I care for your favour?'

Another small smile which this time caused a ripple of heat to course down her spine. Her lips tingled from the memory of his mouth.

'Of course not,' He said.  'But I think that you should.'

The truth also felt like some power she wielded over him. The truth of who she was, her sword. The truth of what she had done - her battle. The truth of why she had done it - her war.  She was not ready to surrender just yet.

To her surprise, he did not demand that she give it. Instead, he turned from her and paced back towards the open verandah, his suffocating eyes gone from her again. His face was etched with a tension she could see in his shoulders and in his hands, his large fists white from the power of the grip within.

'My mother was a Visier,' he began. 'They possess the All Sight. Sight not only of all realms but of all worlds. And for the very fortunate,' he smiled, bitterly, 'of all times.'

The word Visier was unknown to Fara, but she had, of course, heard of those with the skill of sight. Those who walked among the living but possessed the ability to see the dead. To see the unborn. To see what would and would not be. On the mainland, such powers were publicly forbidden and after their father's death, Valdr had hunted those from the ancient bloodline of Seer's and moved to eliminate such threats. He had moved to eliminate all who possessed skill considered unnatural, and thus a danger to his ascendency.

'You have this gift?' she asked, tentatively.

He scoffed. 'Gift it is not,' he muttered. 'But yes, in a form, I possess it.  In Leoth the skill passes from mother to daughter, and from father to son. Though in truth, it is almost unheard of for a Leoth male to possess the All Sight.  Almost.'

She was not sure how this would answer her questions, or what this had to do with his plans for her. She was not sure how it would ease her fear or rest her mind - but she sat up and listened all the same because she felt the weight in his voice. Felt it heavy with memory and feeling, heavy from history.  She felt as though this might even be the first time he had spoken these words aloud and she could not bear to miss a word of it. 

'In my case...' he continued, pausing to take a deep breath before dropping his gaze from the sea outside to stare instead at his hands. 'I stole the gift from my sister when I killed her.'