Heart of Leoth: [HAITUS]

Part XVII ~ Theodan

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.