His teeth grew down from his jaw, his claws shooting out as he strained against the grip of the guards.

'Do not be a fool, Theodan,' Paeris said, as a row of Menodice rushed forward, their black armour shining almost silver under the moon. 'You think I have not already given the order to kill them both should a single drop of blood be spilt?'

'It is only your blood I want, Paeris!' Theodan growled, flashing his fangs. 'Fight me now, here under His gaze. Let no other bear the cast of our enmity. Cut me down if you can.' He pulled free of the hold of the guards, turned slightly and smashed the back of his fist against the Menodice's helmet. The guard staggered back onto the grass his legs weakening beneath him. Ducking the blow of another, he kicked out and knocked the guard's feet out from under him, before twisting to dodge a crushing blow from a third. Menodice swarmed into the grove. He could not fight them all, he knew. But he had but one true target. Bent on murder, he turned and lunged toward Paeris. 

Vala cried out. White-hot pain burst like thunder across his skull.

He fell to his knees clutching at his head, which felt as though it had been cleaved open from behind.  Yet when he touched his hand to it he felt no blood, no wound.  He looked behind him for his assailant but saw instead what had caused his injury.

The world tilted as he blinked, agony spearing through his vision, through his jaw, his neck.  As Menodice swarmed around her, Ismene stood a short distance away.  Apology swam in her eyes as she began to walk toward him slowly.

Through the agony, he tried to raise himself to his feet but could not manage it.  A pain unlike any he had ever known so that he could barely draw breath. A poker rammed through his temple. Crunching and scraping against his skull. Somewhere he could hear a female sob quietly.

So she had betrayed him after all. She had freed him from the rock only to lead him here to his death. It made no sense. Nothing made sense. He could not think

'Why?' he asked as she drew closer. His throat raw from agony.

Ismene knelt by his side and touched a hand to his head, tender. Then, as sudden as it had struck, it was gone. He could breathe, could see, could think. The relief from the bone-crushing agony brought tears to his eyes. Glorious painlessness flooded into him, his lids closing from the overwhelming peace he felt. Gently, he felt her slide something into his hand, a piece of ridged metal, hot from her touch and spiked on one side. She pressed his hand closed tight around it.

'So good of you to finally join us, Ismene,' he heard Paeris say.

As she stood her body trembled, her eyes sparkling with a faint sheen of silver. Power flowed from her.

'I would die a thousand torturous deaths before joining this barbarity, Paeris of Mennir.'

Theodan blinked open his eyes, his mind slowly turning over her tone, her words. Perhaps as it had not yet come fully back to its centre he misunderstood? Finally, he was able to move his neck, lifting it slightly as he discreetly turned out his palm to see what Ismene had placed in it. His heart bloomed, the blood pumping from it through his veins, his soul brightening: Fara's hairpin.

How had Ismene been in possession of it? He himself had stolen it from the pocket of Fara's cloak before returning it to her in the Meadow, before telling her goodbye, before making his promise.  He had been unable to bear losing all of her. He knew it meant much to her for she had risked all to recover it.  Though he'd been riven with guilt at taking it from her, he had made a silent promise to return it. One day, when they were united once more, he'd slide it himself into the thick honeyed waves of her hair.  But for now it was all he had left of she who was his soul, his strength.

'Ah, well, that can be arranged, Ismene, that can be arranged,' Paeris sniped. 'For such a treasonous act as this, we will require to see that you are aptly punished...'

Ismene ignored him, turning instead to face the gathered Menodice. 'Menodice, here this! Paeris of Mennir is no loyal servant of the Dark One!' She began.  'He himself commits treason as he stands here now under this moon: he wears the cloak of the Isdar falsely for he has not earned the title or the seat.' She pointed at Vala and Mor. 'He seeks to condemn two females to death here without testimony or trial. This is not Leoth's way.' She brought her focus back to Paeris and lowered her voice. 'How will Orrin punish such vanity and arrogance as this?'

Theodan saw Paeris smile. 'Former Isdar Orrin has been judged weak-willed and unfit for duty. After the death of our beloved High One under his charge, the unruly and treasonous actions of his own blooded sister, the rebellion of our army's commander, and subsequent loss of the Princess of Calate into the hands of our enemy, he cannot be trusted to wear the cloak of our court.' He took a step closer and lowered his voice to a thin whisper. 'Not to mention his abhorrent violation; of which I cannot even bring myself to utter.'

Theodan looked between them both and saw Ismene's eyes glimmer, the power in them flickering.

'Wh... what have you done?' She gasped.

'Oh, but it is what you have done, Ismene. What you have both done.'

'We have done nothing against His name.'

'Nothing?' Paeris exclaimed as he took a step toward her, threatening.  'Theodan willed the strength back into his bones, his muscles. He needed to stand, to rise to his feet. He gripped Fara's pin harder. 'The primed stands here by the side of a traitor, while Orrin's incompetence has all but brought our realm to its knees. We need strength and leadership more than we ever have and only the forbearance of one such as I can deliver it. I will return us to glory and lead our realm to victory in this war.'

Ismene glared at him, insolent as ever. 'You will fail, Paeris of Mennir. As you have ever failed to rise above mediocrity. All who stand here now know it. All who sit upon the council know it. And soon all of Leoth will know it. All will see you for what you are: a small, inconsequential male lacking virtue, valour and honour!'

There was no warning but for the slightest, briefest, flash of fury in his pale eyes. He reared his hand back and struck Ismene hard across the face. She fell to the grass holding her hand to her cheek. The Menodice glanced at each other, uncertain, their loyalties rent in two. Their duty was to protect the Court of The Moon: the Twelve, The High One and His council.

'And you will be sold to House Asalla to be used as a pleasure slave for the rest of your natural days!'

'And if not for the Covenant of Xirys I would see your mind turned to soup you craven snake!' Ismene spat back.

Theodan finally managed to push to his feet, his head still spinning from the force of Ismene's assault. Aimed he now knew to subvert his murderous rage which would have sentenced Vala and Mor to their deaths. Now Ismene would fall victim too. Be tainted by his stain. This was not what Thesalynn could have intended, what use could the succession be with him?  He looked again at Ismene, the idea unfurling inside him.

'Let the females go, Paeris,' Theodan said finally. 'It is I that you want. My downfall you have so carefully plotted and prayed for. Let the females go.'

When he looked up and across at Vala her eyes shone with defiance, telling him to open Paeris's throat. Mor's were soft but he could see the fear in them even at this distance. His heart pinched for her, his fury rising once more.

'Submit to the blade and I give you my word that they will live,' Paeris told him, calm. 'Resist or fight and assure you they will die.'

'Theodan do not be a fool, he will kill them regardless,' Ismene argued. 'Do not do it. Do not trust his word - he is a Leoth without honour.'  He knew Paeris was without honour, but before this many guards, under the Leoth moon, he had to hope.

As a last desperate prayer, he begged the Dark One for something, some unleashing of the power which lay dormant and quiet within him, something which could help him remove those he cared for from this place unharmed.

Help me. Help me save them. Show me how to use this gift you have given me.

He turned to Ismene, pleading wordlessly that she might show him the way. Her expression was defiant and full of challenge, the plea reflected back at him.

He turned back to Paeris and nodded once. A terrible gleam of triumph bled into Paeris' eyes.

'Take the housemaid from the grove,' Paeris commanded the guard holding Mor. 'When this is done see that she is released unharmed. You know what to do if anything unplanned should occur.'

'No! No! You cannot do this!!' Roared Ismene. 'You are not ordained to pass such a sentence!'

Mor sobbed quietly against her mouth guard, her eyes desperately sad as she was led from the clearing.

'The Lady Vala of Esterus has, unfortunately, conspired with a known traitor. No such deed can go unpunished.' He turned and gestured for the Menodice guarding Vala to bring her closer. 'However, I am not a monster. She will first witness what happens to traitors and enemies of Leoth, then I promise all who stand here that she will receive a fair and just trial before our council.'

Immediately Vala began to thrash and struggle, kicking out against the guards who tried to pull her toward him.

Ismene rushed to Theodan's side. 'Theodan do not dare do this!! You cannot! You know why you cannot.'

He nodded. 'It is why you must tell me now how I may pass it to you. We have little time, Ismene. Speak now, tell me.'

Ismene's eyes rounded with horror as she shook her head. 'No, I will not. Theodan, this is not the way it is to be, it cannot be thus.' she looked panicked as she gripped onto him. 

'Ismene there is no other choice,' he urged, impatient. 'Tell me.'

'I.... I do not know,' she whispered.  Two guards came forward then to lift her from the ground, carrying her away from him. The Covenant of Xirys meant she could not hurt the Menodice or the Isdar with her gift, and so instead she fought them with small fists, panic twisting her features, her hair a tangled mess about her face.

'Commander! Come forth,' called Paeris. There was an awful beat of silence before the scrape of metal rose behind him, the faint female protests fading. Dread settled over him as heavy footsteps moved across the flattened grass. When the wind carried the familiar scent toward him, his heart rent in two then fell to the grass.

Draden came to stand before him and looked into his eyes.

The years fell away so that it was he, Draden and Elyon scaling the jagged heights of Thila Assa. Not yet full-grown, they were all three small framed and no more than babes in truth. For years Theodan was quicker, always reaching the peak first. Until one day, Draden beat him. He didn't gloat or celebrate but remained silent and humble in his victory. When he reached the top he'd only leaned over to offer his hand and pulled them both over the lip of the mountain.

'I am glad it is you,' Theodan said finally.

Draden's mouth tightened, his expression grim. Pain and torment swam in his eyes, his loyalty so clearly riven in two. His friend or his realm. Theodan had forced Draden to choose and he knew the choice would haunt his friend for an eternity.

A sear of self-hatred tore through his insides then.

Mor, Vala, Elyon, and now Draden. Was there any life he had not ruined in pursuit of this? He found little comfort even in the notion that Fara would be returned home, for now, war was unstoppable. An endless plague across the four realms. She would lose more than she had already, and if she survived it then she would do so mourning her people and her brothers. Her grief would suffocate her.  And he could not save her from it, could not keep his promise to her. Could not return to her what he had taken or serve vengeance on those who had hurt her.

He clutched the pin tighter in his fist. It cut into his flesh and he welcomed it.

'Kneel, Theodan of Teredia,' said Paeris, imperious.

He did so slowly, trying to block out Vala's stifled screams and Ismene's angry protests.

Then, under the tree on the opposite side of the clearing, he saw her. Fara, her skin milk-white under the moon, her eyes soft and filled with love as she smiled at him. He thought of the night he took her, her warm skin fluttering against his own. All life within her. The radiance of her glory dulling the glow of the moon.

As the pin cut deeper into the flesh of his palm he imagined piercing her skin with his teeth, tasting her blood flow on his tongue. Then he imagined proffering his own to her, imagined how her soft mouth taking from him, consuming him. Then together they'd watch the scars fade from her fragile skin.

'Forgive me, my love,' he whispered. 

Draden raised the sword.