Everything in his body told him he was going in the wrong direction. Every sinew strained and pulled at him, urging him to turn around. Fara needed him. She was in danger. Could be in pain right now and he was doing nothing to stop it. He'd cause it.

Pain clawed at his chest, his fists curling around Nux's rein. He must focus on what the succession would mean. His power as High Visier was far greater than his power as Theodan of Teredia. If he could finally claim what had been given him he would have the power to bring peace to Ethis, not war. He would have the power to give back what he had taken from Azura - not its king or queen or its heir, but he could install a better ruler. A fairer ruler. One with the heart of a warrior and the soul of a goddess. She was brave and smart and had survived her brother once, she could do it again. He had to believe that.

Otherwise, he would go mad.

He would not survive it were she to be taken from the mortal realm. Would not survive without that which made his heartbeat and gave light to his soul. He would be the destruction his mother had foreseen and no one would be safe from the wrath he would unleash upon this world.

He'd dreamed of her again last night. Like the night in Teredia and the skin tent atop the Gelder. A vision of something to come or which had already passed. The pain and rage it wrought through him was the same, but he hoped beyond hope for it to be the former. That he could prevent what he'd seen. He thought on it again now, detail by detail, act by act - for if she suffered now then he should too. Fara stood, gripping the post of a large ornate bed frame. Her dress of gold silk was torn open, bloodied welts lashed across her bronzed skin. Her brother stood behind her, chest bare and sweat-licked and his eyes black as night as he brought a belt of black leather down upon her skin again and again. She didn't cry out. Didn't flinch. She stood tall and straight and looked as though she were completely removed from her body. When he was finished he dropped the whip, breathing hard.

"Look at me," he commanded.

She obeyed, turning to face her brother. Her expression was a blank page, devoid of anything. She looked empty. A vessel.

He took a step towards her and fell to his knees at her feet.

"My love, you must forgive me. You know how crazed it makes me to think of you with him. With anyone but I..." Valdr wrapped his arms around her legs and sobbed. It was not quiet or restrained, true pain rocking his entire frame. Fara remained unmoved for some time before she settled a hand atop his hair, her fingers moving through the dark strands with tenderness. Soon, his sobs eased and his breathing slowed. He sat back and took hold of Fara's other hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss it softly, before pressing it to his head as one may do before a priest or priestess.

"Say it, say you forgive me," he whispered, gazing up at her. Tears shone in his eyes. "It is you and this or it is him and death... I will not lose you to another. I will not." He kissed her wrist. Pushed up the sleeve of her gown and turned her arm to kiss the inside. Slow drags of his lips across her skin. When he reached her elbow he stood and gently urged her to turn away from him. Then he pushed her forward onto the bed and covered her with his body, tracing his mouth over the broken skin of her back. "Say it... say that you forgive me." He raised her skirts and freed himself from his robe, before spreading the work of his whip down her back and between her legs. As he pushed inside her, Fara made no sound. Barely flinching at the intrusion. So familiar to her. She showed no emotion at all as her brother committed another atrocity upon her body.

"I forgive you," she said, her voice hollow.

The roar he let out was carried off by the wind as he spurred Nux into a western swell. He could feel her body beginning to tire, her wings beating hard against the wind that tried to push him back. Back to Fara.

How had he been so blind to have thought Galyn of Azura the one who'd hurt her? He'd gone to battle in her name. Died in her name. He'd felt her pain and loss and grief as she'd watched him send her prince to the gods. She'd defended his name and his actions over and over again.

He was respected by all of Azura. He was the smartest and most noble of all the princes of Ethis and he was no coward, were the first words she'd ever spoken of him in Azura. He committed no crime but to fall in love.

The way she'd looked at him when he spoke of taking her memories of the prince. The look in her eyes when he'd confronted her about the marks on her skin. Gods, all of it had been right there in front of him. He'd wanted so badly to believe Galyn of Azura, her tormentor. To believe he had saved her from some fate worse than death. Was that arrogance? Hubris? He was a fool. And a blind one at that.

She had been happy in Azura, safe. At peace. Until he'd come. Until he'd destroyed everything she had.

You are destruction. We are destroyed.

Forgive me, my love. Please forgive me.

Oh, he would do exactly as he had promised and beg her forgiveness. On his knees. As the blood of her enemies dripped from his hands. She had made him promise to survive, to live when she should long for his death. He who had taken everything from her.

And his resolve hardened inside him once more. This was right. He would die if he went to Calate to claim Valdr's head. And Fara had begged him to live. He would claim his place as High Visier of Leoth and deliver her all that he had promised her and more. This was right.

He felt the change in the air first. Then Leoth's northern shoreline appeared through the mist like a leviathan through a wave. The line of the Rohnal mountains like a looming shadow on the horizon. He sucked the air into his body, feeling it stretch out his bones and muscle, healing them and strengthening them. His mind sharpened and his body fortified for what was to come. Home. He felt it call to his blood as it always did. His soul still felt tethered to where the light was, to where Fara was, but this was where his body felt most alive. He had told the others they would land in the north, under the shadow of the Rohnal, in the Avalia ni Palateia.

Where he had told Fara goodbye.

Where he had first felt the hand of the Dark One upon him.

He did not know if returning here in possession of the Visier's gift would cause the power to take root within him, but he had awoken something that day in the grove, just as he had when he was a child. Something that was not of this world, something ancient and powerful. Something he must awaken again if he hoped to become what the Visier had been. He had never been one of the Twelve. Had not prepared his body or his soul to receive what The Dark One wished to give him, but whatever had happened to him here was the closest he had ever felt to a vessel by which to receive it. So he would try once more.

They banked just past the shoreline and rode uphill towards the meadow. Draden and his warriors spread out ahead, alert and watchful as though they expected an attack from the forests that skirted around the open field. None came. Draden would leave him here with the twins of Aphelion while he rode on to Armathain, the stronghold where Leothine were sent to become warriors. He felt certain their loyalty would not be in doubt. Elyon, Draden and he had trained the males, and they were loyal to Valka not the Court of The Moon, and not to any male who would appoint himself Isdar. Only the High One could appoint the Isdar. To take the cloak without the Dark One's blessing would not find support amongst Leoth's generals or its soldiers. The only Iliphar should be the Dark One himself.

By telling any who would listen that Theodan of Teredia now carried the High Visier's name, they hoped to gather as many to stand beside them as they could. It was not a complex plan, and it could easily fail. If it were any other delivering the message. But Draden was regarded as an honourable and loyal warrior of the realm. His men would listen. Theodan felt certain of it. Paeris of Mennir would be heralded as a traitor to the realm, one who usurped the chosen Isdar without cause or right. With the warriors of Armathain behind him, he would attempt to enlist those council members willing to support Theodan's cause. Those who had been sympathetic at his trial or who he knew to loathe Paeris as he did: Xanthus, Narila, Caera, Kalyn. Perhaps Seren too.

How many would believe he had been named the Visier's successor without proof, he did not know. For no doubt, his name had been all but destroyed by Paeris's malicious tongue and while the warriors he taught the sword may follow him, the citizens of Leoth were another challenge altogether. It was why he had to succeed here this night.

He had also sent two of Vala's guards to Lannisport to speak with the Ghila and ascertain Jhaan and Mor's whereabouts. His heart squeezed at the thought they had been discovered. He would tear Paeris to pieces with slow relish if he had harmed them. But he had hope that they'd found sanctuary and remained undiscovered. Vala, Ismene and two others had ridden on to the Balck Rock to free Orrin. Theodan bore little love for the Isdar but he did this for Vala, not Orrin.

He dismounted from Nux and led her to graze at a fragrant bushel of Zenobia. The season meant that the meadow was filled with an abundance of amber and red amongst the white, as opposed to the blue and lilacs of the colder moons.

"I shall go in alone," he told the Twins of Aphelion who moved to follow him.

In unison, they gave stilted nods. They looked displeased by the idea but did not argue. He turned towards the break in the trees that surrounded the temple, then stopped, turned back to them.

"Enter only if I have not returned by sunrise."

"Yes, High One," they said together. Theodan's breath caught. Then they believed it. Would the rest of Leoth be so compelled? He offered them a nod and headed for the temple.

The grove in which it sat was silent as the bottom of the sea. The air heavier and cooler than the meadow which lay outside. It looked just as it had the day he'd brought Fara here. Ancient. Forgotten. Lost amongst the world of the living. He took the stone steps slowly, hesitantly, a weird humming in his blood the nearer he got to its entrance. His mind surely. A trick of his imagination. His panic and desperation for this to work.

He focussed on the stone effigy that stood at the heart of the shrine. Though he walked quietly and carefully toward it, his footsteps were too loud, echoing like thunder rolls through the cold space. The strange stirring in his blood grew, and he remembered then that he'd felt it each time he'd come here. A familiarity. A bond. A kinship with the space as though it was his and his alone somehow.

There were many like it all over Leoth, structures built as reminders of how his God had worshipped Azura, his sister. Of how he had loved her above all else. There were more still built as a remembrance to how he had died for that love. Mournful places of melancholy and hopelessness. But this one had always drawn him like no other. This place where the sea met the whitened meadow. Where sometimes the sun would glare upon that whitened meadow so that it looked like light itself.

It was here - before he understood why his mother looked at him with such pain and fear in her eyes - that his cursed gift had first made itself known.

He had not understood it then. What it was he'd experienced here. A vision, but also something more, something like a memory. Warmth and love and a light so bright it had blinded him. He'd awoken with tears in his eyes and hope in his heart. Each time he'd come here he had been chasing that hope. That warmth and love and light. He'd never felt it again.

Until Fara. Until the moment his lips had touched hers; the moment his tongue had tasted her sweet lifeblood.

He'd felt his own death.

He'd brought her here to see if she felt it too. For there was a binding between them. As though they were both made of the same star. A star long dead and forgotten but flickering to light again in the eternal darkness. She had not felt the way he hoped she would about this place, but something had occurred. Unlike what had happened when he was a child, but just as powerful. It was as though Fara's mere presence here had allowed some previously impossible shift to occur.

This place had always recognised him. He hoped it would do the same now.

He knelt at Azura's feet and reached into the pouch in his tunic to retrieve Fara's hairpin. It looked as precious and rare as it had when he'd first seen it, glittering and warm in his roughened hand. Small golden teeth held in a curve of polished gold, the winged shape set with bright six gems. Four purple and two yellow. The yellow gems fashioned into the shape of eyes.

Clutching it tightly in his fist he lifted his head to look up at the stone effigy of the Goddess. He'd never spoken to it, had always considered it blasphemous, but he cared little for that now.

I know that I have no right to ask it of you, that my sins against your people and your realm are many and unforgivable, but I assure you I shall serve my penance in the after realm. I took the life of your prince - an honourable and loyal son - whose only crime was to fall in love. A crime I too have committed. One I commit over and over each time the moon rises and I am granted another turn of the sun. You see we love the same soul, your prince and I. She is...

Goddess, she is magnificence. She fights for her people - for your people - and is afraid of no one and nothing in this world. I made her a promise, many promises, and I should like to keep as many as I can. She is not Azurian, but Goddess she has worshipped you, she has mourned for you and your people, and she will help resurrect your realm again. Perhaps you have heard her prayers? The longer he spoke, the less likely he felt some intervention would come, but he found he could not stop. Could not stop the words that spilled from his heart into the Goddess's ear. If you have any power over what fate befalls us in this mortal realm, I ask that you use it. Help me save this world from this inevitable war, help me bring peace, help me to rebuild yours. But help me to protect her. Help me save her so I can make her Queen of Azura. A queen who shall upon your throne and serve your people faithfully. Aid me now and I, like Him, shall spend each life I am granted after this one in your service. Aid me, Goddess.

When he was finished, he placed the pin as a token at the base of the effigy. Then he retrieved his short blade and made a small cut on his palm, squeezing the blood over the carved feet of the Goddess. The act of feet-washing was an act of love and devotion to the Leothine. 

Outside, the light was fading, and so he took a seat on the steps of the temple to wait for the moon's rise. When it was at its highest point he would make his second plea; the plea to Him. He lowered his head to stare at his clenched fists and waited. And waited. And waited.