He longed to turn his head, to see what look her golden eyes held now. She already thought him a beast of Leoth. This new truth, this sororicidal admission, would not surprise or shock her he knew.

'You killed your own sister?' she whispered. 'For her foresight?'

'No,' he shook his head. 'That was not the why of it. It was merely... the consequence of it.' He turned to her for the first time and found, to his surprise, that her mouth was parted with a mixture of shock and horror. 

'Consequence...?'

'Or, as I have come to see it, the punishment for it.' He smiled bitterly. When she said nothing he felt the urge to fill the thick silence. 'You think me no better than Leoth the Dark himself, I presume.'

'In saying that you would presume I pay your God any mind at all.'

'Meaning you do not?'

'Of course, I do not. It would be an affront to Azura. He defiled a Goddess - his own sister. He tore apart the great realm and laid waste to millions of innocents to satisfy his own contemptible and base desires,' She spat. 'He is unworthy of anything other than his own curse.'

He had to stifle a sigh. So predictable. So certain she was of her truth, a truth written and perpetuated by the victors.

'So there appears to exist a soul whom you despise more than I,' he mused.

She did not confirm it. Instead, an odd look came over her eyes before she looked down at the bedclothes, averting her gaze.

'You said your mother was a Visier,' she asked after a moment. 'Does that mean she is passed?'

'Yes.' He forced away the images that threatened to overcome him. 'She threw herself from this very window when I was no more than three namedays. Driven mad by the sight of things she no longer wanted to see.'

He heard a small, inaudible gasp. Her voice was soft and gentle a short moment later. 'No child should lose their mother so young.' She was picking absently at the lint of the bedclothes. 'My mother too died when I was a child.'

'And your father?' He asked, curious now. Was she was conversing with him, voluntarily?

'Not so long ago,' she replied, before the same odd look he noticed several moments earlier flitted again across her features. When she lowered her eyes from his he understood what it was. It was not deception, it was the pulling of a curtain, the hiding of a sight behind it.

'My father is dead also.' He wandered away from the verandah in search of his wine, wine he was certain he'd brought up from the stores himself last moonrise but which seemed to have vanished. Mor must have cleared the chamber - too efficient for her own good. Though perhaps it wasn't thirst that plagued him but exhaustion.

He had stolen no more than a few moment's rest since the moon call two nights past. Watching over her seemed more important somehow, more like a duty he owed her for putting her in danger. He recalled with faint embarrassment how desperately he had wanted to climb into the bed next to her, to pull her against him, to rest with her small, fragile heat pressed against his. He loathed the part of himself that had prevented him from doing so. Weakness. For was she not his with which to do as he pleased? His to protect and to rule?

'Why are you telling me this?' She asked, half frowning. 'Of your mother. Of your sister?'

She looked so suited there against the canopied bed of his mother's chamber, so at home in it, that he was momentarily stunned.

'You asked what use I had for you - why I would risk bringing you here. I tell you to explain why I did these things.'

She nodded, lips firmly closed. He moved towards her and took a seat on the end of his mother's bed, facing away from her. Her eyes were a powerful thing when fixed directly on him he'd found. Especially when filled with such anticipation as they were now. She did not flinch when he sat by her feet. She stayed completely still, alert and focussed. He wanted to command her to lie back down and rest, but he chose to say nothing.

'I should start by telling you why I agreed to fight the war in Azura. For fighting alongside the Zybar did not, and still does not, sit well with me.' He checked her reaction to this. It was wary and uncertain, doubtful of the words he spoke. 'I campaigned strongly against it. The council sat in debate for many weeks. But once the High Visier had delivered her vote the decision was made.'

'The High Visier?'

'She speaks for the past and future citizens of Leoth. It is considered unwise to disregard her judgement.' He explained. She sat forward, listening intently, eyes alight with interest.

'She has .. the All Sight too? Like your mother? Like you?'

He shook his head. 'No. Not like me. Not like any other. Her skill is more. More powerful, more formidable. It is simply more. She has visions, yes, but she is also able to speak directly with those who have passed beyond the mortal realm, with those who have yet to come into it. It's said she can speak directly with the Dark One himself.'

He recalled then his mother's words, spoken to him that night with the weight of death behind them, across a burning brazier from the aged mouth of the High visier. A shiver crept over his skull to crawl down his spine.

'And she voted for war.' Cassine nodded. Misery seeping into her eyes.

Theodan looked away from her. 'I requested an audience. To demand she give me good cause. A cause great enough to tear down one realm for the benefit of one that was not Leoth.'

She smiled, bitterly. 'And she gave you it, I gather.'

'Yes,' he confirmed. 'She spoke to me of a great many things. We talked for a night and a day and when the moon rose again on the second night I went to the council and agreed to lead Leoth's army into war.'

'And what was the cause?' She asked, her voice barely there, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. 'What great cause moved your mind towards war? What cause could be great enough for you to bring an entire realm to its knees?'

He held her gaze for many moments. And as he did his entire journey to Azura spread out before him. Nux's struggle leaden with supplies and weapons, the push forward against the sun for the great palace, the slaying of the crown prince, the capture and surrender of the Queen to Torrik, the many bodies of the slain soldiers. All blasted through his mind. The cause was great. The cause was why he'd gone. But, he realised then, with a certainty that stole his breath, that had the cause been merely her, merely the promise of her - then he would have done it all exactly as he had done.

'"Ethis will see peace everlasting, and the four realms will be joined once more."' He quoted, feeling the weight of the words spoken that night. '"But first, son of Ishilde, Azura must fall."'

Beside him, she paled, her mouth falling open. 'You were told that you if destroyed Azura it would unite the four realms?' She made it sound like the most ridiculous notion.

He scowled. Had she heard nothing? 'The High Visier sees all. She knows all.'

'But nothing of what she knows makes sense. Calate would never fall to Zybar rule....' she was shaking her head. 'Leoth would not either, surely? None of what she has told you makes sense. And what has any of this to do with my being here?'

He sat upright. 'She told me of you also. She told me that the spoils would be many and tempting, but that I should take only one treasure from the sands of Azura. And that I should protect it with all that I have.'

She let out a small breath, mouth and eyes widening still. 'And you chose me?'

He had spent the last day and night while she recovered considering this. Considering whether she was the treasure he had chosen. Considering whether she had been pushed in his way by the Dark One himself. Had He wanted her here where his power was strongest? Where He could more easily take her for himself?

'I chose you,' he said firmly.

She searched in his eyes for something, honeyed orbs softening as they looked deep into his own. He thought he saw hope there. When she glanced away, gazing out towards the sea he felt colder immediately.

'Ethis will see peace everlasting...' she whispered, sounding amazed. She shook her head slightly in disbelief before whipping it around to glare at him 'How accurate are these... visions? Are they set? Unchangeable? Can the events seen in them be altered? What does Ethis joined mean? Under Zybar rule? Leoth rule?'

'Enough questions, female,' he said, standing. 'I have given you my truths - now I would have yours.'

She stilled immediately, a composed look clouding her face.

'Very well,' she announced. 'What truth is it you seek?' She met his eye with a level stare, defiant as ever.

Slowly, he reached out his hand and opened his palm. 'I wish you to tell me of this.'

In an instant the composed look melted away, replaced by one of panic and despair.

'It is a hairpin,' she managed.

'I had realised that on my own.'

He moved closer to her, lifting it to inspect it, though in truth he did not require to. He had spent the night examining the trinket. While she slept soundly he had memorised its shape and its delicate beauty. Azurian red gold. An insect carved from a rare purple jewel, the name of either he did not know.

'I wish to know where you got it,' he said. 'Tis quite exquisitely crafted. A precious metal coupled with a priceless jewel - not the typical possession of a palace servant girl would you agree?'

'I took it,' she offered quickly, too quickly. 'From a child in the camp.' Oddly, he did not sense a lie.

'So, it belongs to an Azurian child?'

She considered something. Then: 'No. It belongs to me.'

'So then I ask you again, from where did it come?'

She bit down on the inside of her cheek, her eyes once again burning with emotion. Her attachment to the jewel was clear. Her body all but shook, her hands bunched by her side, her need to have it again tangible in the air.

'What does it matter where it came from? It belongs to me.'

'And you would like it back then, I gather?'

'Yes.' Then, softer, her eyes pleading. 'Please. It is all I have left.'

A part of him softened while another, more dominant part, hardened. 'All you have left... A strange summation of your predicament, female. Do you not have your life, a life I gave you, a life that many others do not?'

She laughed. Unamused. 'I suppose you feel that makes you a hero of some kind?' Her nostrils flared, her eyes like brittle glass.

'You lie here, safe when many of your kind do not. When your queen does not. I do not deserve some commendation for this, no?'

'Arielle suffers a fate that you alone delivered her unto!'

'This is war!' he growled.

'A war, that by your own admission you fought against your will and better judgement! A war that waged because the powerful commander of the armies of Leoth was not able to think for himself!' She shot back.

He growled and sprang forward, pouncing atop the bed to cover her with his body. His claws grew instantly, his teeth shooting out from their cavities to sharp deadly points, hungry, angry. Even then she refused to cower beneath him. His blood maddened with need.

'So easily you forget your place! You push my generosity beyond limit!'

'Generosity??!' She spat. 'Where? Because you have not yet slaughtered me I am to consider it generous of you? You're preposterous, Leoth!'

He bared his teeth at her, which caused her finally to shrink back in fear, realisation and alarm flooding her delicate features. A flash of an image burst upon him, clouding his vision. White-hot need. Her, smiling up at him with love, with gratitude. Devotion clear and true in her golden eyes. Want and need blooming from her as he pushed himself inside her. 

Confusion raged with guilt and anger and pulled him from the bed, forcing him to put distance between them.  Blood pounded in his ears, heat swirling in his veins, the light of the vision tickling at the periphery of his mind. Why did she overpower his senses in this fashion? From the moment he saw her she had controlled him. What elixir swam in her blood that drove him to this state? He could smell it. Taste it.

Take her. Tame her. Make her yours.

His groin throbbed with want as he pushed the idea from his mind. His body had taken Vala not two moons ago, Iaria the moon before, but neither had abated his need any. This weak and lingering need for Cassine had become desperate. Pathetic. Would no one else ease him ever again?

In his hand he squeezed the pin, wanting passionately to break it in half before her eyes, crush it to dust in his fist. He had a desperate need to tease her passion, her anger, to rip her truth from her. Resisting this need, he marched angrily to the door of the chamber and roared for Mor to bring him some wine.

The silence stretched on. Gloating.

'Do you always seek to destroy that which dares challenge you?' She asked after the long moment of quiet. Her voice was soft, cutting through the hardness of his abiding rage. 

He turned to glare at her.

'It should be no surprise, I suppose,' she continued. 'Your own god was a monster. Perhaps you have no control over what you are?'

He could see what she so bravely tried to do. What she tried to take from him. He would not bite this time.

Instead, he smirked. 'We Leothine are indeed sewn from the same flesh of the Dark One you so despise. Mor is most the most skilled housemaid of the realm. To witness her skill with a carving knife is to know true terror. I shall have her demonstrate for you when she arrives.'

Her look quickly turned to scorn. 'So easily you joke when so many have died by your hand. Tell me this, Leoth' she narrowed her stare. 'How easily do you live with the things you've done? Without conscience or remorse? How many dead souls haunt your dreams?'

He took a moment to consider. 'None,' He answered truthfully. 'The lives I have taken cause me no trouble, female.'

His visions, however, were another matter. Countless faces. Dead and alive. Lives long forgotten. Those yet to come. He would carve his ability from his mind with his own hand if he could. Such a loathsome gift he'd been granted. Not a gift, a punishment. He lived while she had perished. It was a true and just consequence, surely?

'The lives of innocents truly mean nothing to you?' She gaped.

'What gives you reason to believe the lives I have taken have been innocent?' Was she really this simple-minded? Did she know nothing of the mortal realm? The insects that dwelled within it. A heaving mass of sin and pointless things.

'Galyn was a hero; noble and kind - beloved by his people.' Her voice trembled with a feeling he tried to ignore.

He cared not. He'd kill her prince over and over again if it would end her attachment to him once and for all. He hated how hot her blood turned for him - he could scent it from here - he hated how passionate her voice and eyes became at the very mention of his name. He knew the pin had come from him, though whether to a consort or a wife he did not.

You know the truth of it, my child. You only deny that which you know to be true.

It was his mother's voice this time.

The burn of something like envy coursed down his spine, his claws sharpening. 'A noble and kind hero?' he sneered. 'He brought war upon his lands and his people because he chose to be free of self-restraint. Because he did not know the meaning of duty or promise. Because against the advice of his king and his queen, of his blooded parents, he let avarice rule his mind. He did not choose the path that would benefit and protect his realm. He chose the path which would most benefit himself. Tell me, Cassine, what is noble about that. I would hear it from you?'

She opened her mouth, grasping for the words that evidently would not come easily.

'I know that he committed no crime but to fall in love!' She managed. 'I know that love is not a choice. It simply is, and sometimes no strength in this world is strong enough to fight against it.'

He gave a small smile. 'Naught but the words of the weak.'

'Galyn was not weak.'

'So like war, you know nothing about men either. I should not be surprised by this, I suppose.' He mocked.

'I know plenty enough about men!'

'You? An untouched servant girl from the dressing rooms of the Sun Palace?' He taunted. 'You know plenty enough about men? How can that possibly be? Where is your truth now, Cassine?'

Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes afire, and he watched with a longing that sickened him as she took a deep, graceful, breath to calm herself.

He knew he should not work her so, not when her heart and mind were still frail from the moon's call. But the fire she lit inside him felt untameable. A raging wildfire that threatened to smother all around it, laying waste to everything in its path. A forest of cinders.

'The hairpin was a gift,' she said finally, her voice a new and until now unheard, kind of calm. It belied the very tempest he knew blew through her veins still. 'From Prince Galyn. He gave it to me the night I told him I carried the heir of Azura inside me.'

He did not need to ask her for her next truth, for she offered it freely, her chin tilted up with pride. A royal pride.

'I am Fara Ninerveh of Zaharina, wedded wife of Prince Galyn of Azura, only daughter of King Stefforn of Bris and Rhetia, blooded sister of King Valdr of Calate.'

The next thing he heard was the sound of a jug crashing to the floor as Mor, frozen still by the door of the chamber, muttered a prayer of forgiveness in Leoth.

'There is your truth, Theodan of Leoth - do with it what you will. '