He retired to the Visier's private quarters while the clean-up of the council chamber was carried out. By those who had helped soil it. Paeris had not sunk so low as to decimate these rooms at least, but he had not yet checked the library Pavillion or the gardens. 

The Twelve had been found cloistered in their rooms unharmed and intact though apparently, they had known nothing of the fate of the Alskaar. Once the clean-up was complete, the cultivators of it would be taken to the rock to await judgement. He'd need a new council, first. Chosen carefully and without bias. His head hurt thinking of it. It was not why he'd returned, to resume a life of politics and diplomacy.  By rights, Sapphira and Calantha should face the same fate as Paeris, but perhaps they would yet be of use to him. He had not forgotten the armour the Prince of Calate and his men had worn. There was a traitor in this realm, one selling Leoth steel to their enemies, and Theodan would find them.

He sat at the stone desk and gazed out towards the mountain, where inside he had been counselled into war by the one who'd sat here before him. He thought of the words Thessalyn had spoken to him over the black fire. Ethis will see peace everlasting, but first Azura must fall. Azura had fallen and yet how such a thing could lead to peace he did not know. Did not know why Sylvan and Arielle were any kind of impediment to peace on Ethis — Galyn too by all accounts was rumoured to be fair and peace loving. He was not a war maker like Torrik, or a poisonous reptile like Valdr of Calate. There had been peace — before Zybar and Leoth's attack. Before Galyn of Azura had broken his betrothal — Ethis had known peace. 

There was something he could not see, some dark centre obscured by warring kings and the quest for power, some plot that had taken the High Visier from this mortal realm and continued to threaten Leoth and Ethis. But how could he take his focus from Valdr of Calate long enough to uncover it? How could he leave Fara on the other side of this world at the hands of her tormentor to fight an invisible enemy instead? 

A firm knock on the latticed door drew his attention, and the fury dancing inside him quietened. It slid open and Draden entered, sweat and dirt and blood clinging to his skin, his body slow-moving as he came to stand in front of the desk. The warrior looked exhausted, and Theodan had asked much of him: it had been the battle for the Golden City, the Flight across the Ash Sea, and now the rebuilding of the Court of The Moon. Unfortunately without Elyon, Theodan needed both Draden and Vala by his side now. He could not afford to send him home to Caihaen to rest. Not now. He was too important.

Draden merely stared at him a few moments, awe and a new, heightened kind of vigilance on his face as he did. There was no fear that Theodan could sense, no wariness or misdoubt, just calm acceptance. Draden blinked and dropped to his knees, head bowed.

Theodan waited until his commander lifted his head and then gestured for him to stand. "High One," Draden said ceremoniously.

"I am certain I did not give you leave to call me that," Theodan sighed, patiently.

"It is impossible not to. It is as though my tongue is being led. To see you sitting there, looking as you do."

"Looking as I do?" Theodan glanced down at himself. "And what way is that?"

"Imperious. Wait, no, for you have always been that, so it is something else..." Draden searched around for the word while Theodan raised an eyebrow. Was that...a joke? From Draden. It seemed unlikely except the leoth was smiling. He tilted his head to study Theodan. "You are different, physically yes, but imperceptibly so. But...it becomes you. This chamber, that seat. Leoth shall prosper with you upon it."

Theodan was not so certain. His mind on war and the death of another realm's king was surely not prosperity. "Has there been any word from Lannisport?" He asked, averting the subject.

"No, High One."

Unease swirled in his gut. They were alive, he was certain. Paeris would have ensured he was the one to tell him if he'd harmed Jhaan or Mor. He nodded.

"But the Isdar is here. Ismene and Vala have returned."

"They are unharmed?"

Draden nodded. "The Isdar is...well, you will see for yourself. He has been given a chamber, a bath, and some food. Perhaps you should let him rest first. If you mean to question him."

"Very well." Theodan cared little for Orrin's comfort. He'd been the one to send him to the rock afterall, who'd brought the charge against him, who would have easily seen him dead for it. "See that the men and ships I promised Corryn Vane are despatched quickly. As many warriors and ships as you think is necessary to hold the realm from any who would attack her. Ensure the Golden Bay and the Whitevain Straight are both defended. " The citizens of Azura would likely think they were being attacked by Leoth again if an army of Leothine began streaming into the city again. "They will require a team of Ghomi and Ikath — find as many as you can that will volunteer to go. Tell them they will be paid handsomely." Draden smiled a little and inclined his head. "Ensure the child slaves taken as war spoils are returned."

"Anything else?"

Theodan considered this. "Yes. Send a summons to the councillors who were not present here this eve. I require an audience with them." He could dismiss any who had broken the Court's covenants, and he could appoint their replacements. This meant there were four seats he needed to fill.

"I shall see it done, high one." This time Theodan let the address go unchecked. He would have to get used to it. Draden bowed, stepped backwards and moved towards the door.

"Draden," he called out, rising from the desk to approach him by the door. When they were face to face he took in the weary face of his friend. He had always been closer with Elyon. Elyon's stubbornly forceful approach friendship had meant that Theodan had had very little choice in the matter. Draden had come later; quiet and careful, steady and loyal, he was the opposite of Elyon in many ways. Theodan had been sure Draden disliked him intensely at first, his manner when they were paired together for drills and spars and hunts almost hostile at times. But then Theodan had almost lost his leg in a rockfall on a descent of the Rhonal on one such hunt, and Draden carried him all the way from the foot of the mountain back to Armathain without hesitation. Through mud and sand and plains and forest, for days, Draden had carried him. Hunted and cooked and tended to his crushed and wounded leg. Theodan knew then that he was steadfast and true. He'd complained only once and it had been about the incessant rain which made it too hard to keep the fire alight. There was no one outside of Elyon that Theodan trusted more, except Mor and Jhaan.

"I have been thinking: it has been too long since Caihaen had a voice in this court," Theodan said. Draden's brow furrowed for a moment before realisation smoothed it again. He did not look horrified, only mildly shocked.

"I am not eloquent enough to be a councillor, Theodan. I've always been better at swords than words."

"You would make a fine councillor," Theodan countered. A better councillor than Theodan himself had been. "Besides, my position here would be far better served if I was surrounded by those I trust. Those who trust me." He gave Draden a serious look which he hoped would encourage forthrightness now. "If I appointed you, would you refuse?"

"An appointment from the High One to its court cannot be refused." Draden pointed out.

"Very well, let me rephrase. Would you be burdened by it. Resent me for it?"

Draden thought about it a moment. "I would do my best at whatever task you set before me, High One, but perhaps 'tis you who would have more to regret in the making of it."

"I know I would not. But neither would I force you into a role you did not want." Draden was indeed a soldier, a commander of men, and skilled at both. But Theodan had no doubt he could fulfil the duties of Court councillor equally as well. Fair, beneficent, and rational. All qualities needed for the Court of the Moon. "Think on it. I shall ask for your answer at this time on the morrow. If it is not the answer I long for, I will not ask it of you. But I have every faith in your ability, Draden." Theodan attested.

Draden opened his mouth and closed it again, a question warring on his face.

"Speak your mind with me, always," Theodan prompted. He sensed some mixed emotion in Draden, none of which he could quite name

He hesitated a moment before saying: "If Elyon were here, would you have asked this of him instead?"

Guilt doused him. Pain at the loss. Gods, he missed Elyon. Draden did too, no doubt. Did he live still? Had Fara been able to keep him alive after Torrik's death. He sent a prayer to Dark One that she had. He sensed he was still tethered to this land, though whether that was hope or some otherworldly notion, he could not be sure.

Finally, Theodan gave a small sad smile. "Elyon of Lethane would make a terrible councillor. There's little else I'm more sure of." Draden's smile mirrored his own.

Theodan gave him a warmer smile and placed a hand lightly atop his shoulder. "I require one more thing," he said. Draden stood at attention, listening intently. He needed to appoint his court quickly otherwise Draden was likely to collapse under this mountain of duty. "I need a messenger to carry a missive to Zybar and Calate find the fastest, most skilled bearers Leoth has and bring them to me."

__________________________

He should have sent Vala to Lannisport after Mor and Jhaan. If she hadn't insisted on being the one to free her brother then he would have. There was no way to know if the Ghila would believe the men came there on Theodan's order. Mor too would have no idea who the men were. He would go himself if there was no word by moons rise tomorrow. He moved through the Visier's rooms feeling like a trespasser, feeling as though she may appear any moment and haul him from it. They were not sumptuous like the Golden Palace, nor were they curated like the halls and rooms of Teredia in warm woods and rich fabrics. They were cold and understated but he supposed, well-appointed. Dark wooden furnishings and polished stone, starched linens in grey and white hung from the ceiling and covered the seating areas. He had no intention of sleeping here, but the sunken bed looked desperately comfortable as he gazed at it. Stone steps leading up from all sides, thick grey curtains strung from above to block out the light had been pushed open. He felt weary but knew his mind would not rest even if he forced his body to. There was too much to do.

He had not tried to mind travel again, but he would tonight. His heart longed for Teredia, and he had to know whether it still stood. Had Paeris ordered it destroyed? If he had then Theodan would go to Mennir and do the same there. Leave nothing of Paeris' villa in the north standing. It was beneath him but he would enjoy it all the same.

Soon, Theodan found himself in Moon Garden, the scent of Lyrian flower potent in the air. It was where the assassin had bested him. Where Thessalyn had fallen. It was quiet as the grave now, only the faint rush of the waves against the rock far below, the distant squawk of a sea bird out above the grey depths. He gazed eastward, towards Azura, towards Calate. Had she received his message? Did she know that he knew it all now? What she'd so skilfully hidden.

Movement behind him stole his attention. He sensed it was Ismene before he turned, her steps careful and almost hesitant. When he turned to face her he watched as her steps faltered to a stop, her face smoothing in realisation.

"You are changed," she said.

He let a small smile lift one side of his mouth. "So I am told."

"You do not feel it?" She frowned, studying him closely.

"I feel something...but I cannot say what it is."

"It is power."

The word settled inside him, purring softly, asleep. "Paeris is dead."

"Good." She moved to stand next to him, and they both turned to gaze out at the expanse of grey that stretched across the world. "Though I would rather you not have committed butchery in the Great Chamber."

"Let us call it an offering to the dark one for all of the Ilithar's offences."

Ismene made a non-committal sort of sound. She was silent a moment before speaking again. "What do you plan to do with the Isdar?" Her tone was expressionless, almost. He cast his gaze sideways, though her face was blank too. There was nothing there to offer him any clue as to Ismene's feelings about Orrin. He tried reaching out with his mind, as he had done in the grove, but there was only silence. Unlike the twins of Aphelion, her emotions were entirely unreadable. Something she had practised? Or perhaps she lacked the ability to experience them at all.

"I have given it little thought," Theodan admitted. "He was no supporter of Paeris at least, but neither is he a supporter of me. I do not imagine he would be happy to serve this court with me as its head." As far as Theodan knew, Orrin still believed he executed the Visier.

Ismene said nothing. Silence stretched between them, weighty with unspoken words.

"What would you have me do with him?" Theodan asked. "This Leoth who would have seen me condemned to death or banished from my realm. Should I pardon him? Ask him to join my council? Exile him?" When she still said nothing, he turned to her. "If you wish to speak for him, Ismene then I will hear it. Perhaps there is something you would rather say here, between only us?" He had asked her it once before and gotten only denial. Had they been alone then? He could not recall.

She looked hesitant for a moment, before she straightened. Chin lifted, she met his eye unwaveringly. "The Isdar has always been loyal to this court, has only ever sought to serve the High One. As have I." It was not the gift that told him there was something she was not saying, something which pained her. "He is a noble male."

"You care for him," Theodan said.

Ismene stiffened. "I... there was never impropriety between us." 

"Of course not." He recalled well her words about his father - their father.

"And his heart was not..." she paused, closed her eyes, and swallowed. When she opened them again she looked faintly embarrassed. "There was feeling on my part, feeling which would never have been acted upon, feeling which was not reciprocated. His heart lay elsewhere."

"I see." He arranged his features in what he hoped was some kind of empathetic display.

"But I believe he cares deeply for this realm, for its citizens, and for this court. He respects the seat — and he would be an asset to you. He knows more about this realm and this court than any other, including me."

"He thinks I murdered the High One, Ismene. He would not respect my council."

"Tell him of the shadow assassin. Tell him of your vision, that which you had in Azura — of the Forsworn. Tell him everything and I believe he will listen. He is not unreasonable, Theodan. Only...grieving." Her eyes shifted down momentarily. "I believe you both want only what is best for this realm — you sit on opposite sides but you face the same direction."

"Do you say this because you love him?"

"Love," she recoiled, insulted. "No. I do not. I say it as your Primed. For my role here is as it ever was: to counsel and aid the High One as best I can."

He nodded once, pondering her words. One day they would talk of the other truth between them, but not this day. "Then I will consider your words, Primed. On the morrow I will speak with the Isdar." He turned back towards the view. "Get some rest. There shall be much to do when the sun rises."

"Yes, High One," Ismene said. Her footsteps were quiet as she walked away, and then silent as she exited the paved garden.

Alone again and unable to wait any longer, he closed his eyes and thought of Teredia. Imagined her great cavernous entrance hall that could frame the moon, imagined the wide twisting stairwell that curled up inside it, imagined the vast opulence of the library — his favourite room. He felt the slightest kiss of the wind on the back of his neck, the faintest dip of his stomach, and when he blinked open his eyes he stood in front of the hearth of the grand fireplace in Teredia's library. The place was cold and dark but it still looked to be intact. Paeris had not ordered it raided or burned as Theodan thought he might. He let out a breath of relief as he took in the huge room, looking for anything that might have been taken, stolen, but it looked exactly as it had the last time he'd seen it. Outside, the wind battered against the glass and whistled inside the fireplace, above him the domed ceiling allowed the light of the crescent moon above to spill some light upon the stone floor.

Then he sensed it. Some movement below, in the kitchen perhaps, or lower. He closed his eyes and travelled down, to the kitchen first which he saw immediately was empty and dark. The door to the cellar locked, the key where it should be. Not here then. But he could hear the quick heartbeat of another inside Teredia's walls, could sense the fear and panic. He followed it, not down but out, through the southern garden towards the stables, where a Varveh had been hitched. His heart leapt for he knew this Varveh. The sense of fear was stronger here, and as he neared the beast it only grew. The stable was empty save for the Varveh and so he closed his eyes and listened, breathing deep and slow. Beneath the beasts panic was the quick flutter of a heart, jittery with exertion. It was above him now and gaining height. He thought of his chamber and materialised in the cold of the room just as the door creaked open and a slim figure slipped inside, sword held firm by their side.

Jhaan scanned the room quickly and froze when he saw him. There was the first flicker of fear at the shadowed form, Jhaan raising his sword quite skilfully in an attacking stance.

"Jhaan, it is I," Theodan said, stepping forward, hands raised.

"Commander?" he said, hesitantly. Theodan noted with approval that he did not immediately lower his sword. He took a small step forward, into the shard of light that slashed in through the open verandah. Jhaan gasped, relieved delight spreading into his dark eyes. "Commander, it is really you!" He stepped forward, taking in Theodan fully for the first time. Then he dropped to his knees before him, head bowed and sword on the ground. Theodan moved toward him, urging him up from the floor. As Jhaan stood, Theodan checked him over. His hair had been cropped close to his scalp and he wore a dark leather riding vest and black tunic, leather breeches and boots. He seemed taller, more imposing; almost mercenary like. It suited him.

"You are well?" He asked, noting a slight bruise under his right eye. Jhaan nodded, eyes sparkling in the dark light. "Mor? Mor is well?"

"She is, commander, she is." Jhaan said, nodding again. "When the men came with your message we had to be sure... I thought if you were indeed in Leoth, then you would return to Teredia. Mor did not want me to return, thought Councillor Paeris had lain a trap to draw us out, but I had to be sure. She will be pleased, commander." Theodan had never wanted to embrace another male before, but he had the sudden urge to pull Jhaan into his arms and keep him there. Instead, he settled a hand on Jhaan's shoulder.

"As pleased as I am to know you are both safe and well," Theodan said, squeezing gently

Jhaan stared up at him openly, eyes rounded with curiosity. "Commander there is...you are...changed somehow."

Theodan smiled. "Yes, so I am told." He headed for the chamber door, Jhaan following dutifully behind him. "As have you. For you are certainly not the malevohara I left behind." Theodan gave Jhaan a pointed once over as they made their way down the great staircase. "Let us find some darkwine and you can tell me all that has happened since I left you in the Niran woods."

"You will... drink darkwine with me...commander?"

Theodan threw a look over his shoulder. "I can think of no one else I would rather drink darkwine with this night, Jhaan." Some warm bubble of hope rose inside Theodan then, some notion that death and destruction and war could be forgotten for at least one night. This night.