Ilios's curiosity about the Night Court did not fade through the rest of the day, nor when he finally returned to the throne room of the Day Court.
Even when no stars filled its vast chambers, motion lived within the architecture itself. Golden banners drifted in warm currents of air, sunlight moved across the high pillars like slow rivers of flame, and far above, the great dome shimmered with living light that pulsed in a steady rhythm — the heartbeat of Day itself.
Yet for a time, the throne room had grown unusually still.
At the center of the chamber stood the Throne of the Sun.
It rose from a circular dais of radiant stone, its form carved from flowing bands of gold and star fire that curved upward like the petals of a blazing flower. It was less a seat than a convergence — where the great currents of Day gathered before spilling outward again into the Auroral Court.
And seated within that living convergence was Ilios.
He leaned forward slightly, one elbow resting on his knee, his chin supported by the back of his hand.
Thinking.
That alone would have unsettled most of the court.
Unlike Marici, who could kneel for hours among the flowering terraces, Ilios was not made for stillness. His presence usually moved like a storm of sunlight — racing stars across the sky, testing new creations, drawing others into whatever idea had seized him that hour.
But at the moment, he remained still.
Long enough that even the golden currents of the chamber had begun to bend around his quietness.
Across the hall, another figure moved with quiet precision as several attentive followers watched closely.
Sadhi.
Before him lay a wide work table scattered with materials: thin rods of metal, curved crystal, lengths of luminous thread, and hollow rings of varying size. Around him were drums of varying size and shape, but for the moment, in his hands rested a newly assembled instrument.
A flute.
He turned it slightly, watching how the light moved through its carved openings.
Then he played.
A single clear note rang through the chamber, echoing from pillar to pillar before fading into stillness.
Sadhi frowned.
Adjusted.
Tried again.
This time the tone deepened — rounder, fuller — spreading through the chamber like a gentle wave.
He tilted his head.
"Better."
Behind him, Ilios had not moved.
But the faintest shift touched the corner of his mouth.
"You have been sitting there long enough to make the entire court nervous," Sadhi said, not turning. He had noticed Ilios's movement. He always noticed.
For a moment, silence lingered.
"Have I?"
"Yes."
Sadhi adjusted a crystal ring.
"Aurelion passed through earlier. He watched you for nearly a full minute before deciding not to interrupt."
A pause.
"He assumed you were planning something."
"He wasn't wrong."
Sadhi played another brief sequence of notes. The sound moved easily through the chamber.
He nodded once, satisfied, and set the flute aside. In its place, he lifted a second instrument — crescent-shaped, strung with fine luminous threads.
He plucked one.
A warm resonance filled the air.
Then another.
And another.
The tones began to gather — not yet a melody, but something approaching one.
Possibility.
"Sadhi..."
The strings stilled.
"Yes?"
A pause.
Unusual.
"When we were formed..."
Ilios broke off, and Sadhi glanced over his shoulder to look at his fellow original.
"That is quite the beginning," he said when Ilios failed to continue.
Ilios exhaled lightly, running a hand through his hair.
"When we were formed," Ilios began again, "it was at the same moment as the Night Court."
"Yes."
"Balanced."
"Yes."
"Two realms. Two courts."
Sadhi studied him.
"I sense you are building to a question."
"Yeah, I guess I am."
"Which is?"
"Have you ever wondered what it's like there?"
A beat.
"The Night Court?"
"Yes."
Sadhi considered him for a moment, then plucked a thoughtful chord.
"No."
Ilios deflated — briefly.
"I don't need to," Sadhi added.
Ilios straightened again.
"You don't need to?"
"Why would I," Sadhi replied calmly, "when I have already been there?"
"You have?"
"Of course. I just came from there."
Sadhi returned his attention to the strings.
Ilios blinked.
"Really?"
"Unlike you, I am free to explore all the Courts," Sadhi said, glancing at him with quiet amusement. "Including the Argent Court." After a pause, he added, "Did you really think I was here the whole time?"
Ilios laughed.
"I suppose not."
"If that truly had been the case," Sadhi continued, "I would have asked for a workshop by now."
"Perhaps we should find you one anyway."
"You mean this room isn't sufficient for my experiments?" he asked lightly, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"You know I love hearing your experiments," Ilios replied with a grin. "But the mess I could prefer elsewhere."
Sadhi laughed and leaned farther back in his chair.
"What prompted your question, my friend?"
Ilios paused before answering.
"I saw it."
Sadhi's hands stilled.
A pause.
"At the edge of the currents," Ilios said. "When Aurelion and I were testing his harness."
A slow exhale.
"Of course you were."
"It was beautiful," Ilios said, quieter now. "But not like Day."
"Of course not."
"It moved differently. It was slower, and darker. Kind of like it listened instead of spoke."
Sadhi considered that.
Then he played a low note.
Soft.
Patient.
It lingered.
"Something like that?"
Ilios leaned forward slightly.
"Yes. Exactly that."
Sadhi nodded.
"That would make sense."
"Why?"
Sadhi gestured lightly.
"This," he said, sounding a bright note, "is of Day."
Then the lower tone again.
"And this — of Night."
He played them together.
"They were not made to oppose one another," he said, layering tones with quiet precision. "They were made to complete one another in the Song."
The sound settled into silence.
Sadhi looked at Ilios.
"You will meet them again. It's inevitable."
Ilios smiled — quick and bright.
"I knew it."
"That thought pleases you?"
"It does."
"Why?"
Ilios leaned back slightly.
"It means I'm not the only one thinking about it."
Sadhi gave a soft exhale.
"You are rarely the only one thinking anything," he said. "You just tend to be the first to say it."
Sadhi turned back to his instruments.
He adjusted a tuning peg, then began again.
This time, the notes started bright — quick, lively — then gradually slowed, deepened. As if space opened between them.
The music grew quiet.
Ilios leaned forward.
"What are you doing?"
"Testing."
The melody settled into something slower, broader.
Spacious.
Ilios felt it again — that same quiet he had glimpsed beyond the edge of Day.
"That's it," he said.
Sadhi glanced up.
"That's what?"
"Like the Night Court."
Sadhi grinned.
"It is."
He played it again, fuller this time. This time, a higher note joined — soft, distant, silver.
It was moonlight given sound.
Sadhi listened.
Then —
"You could reach out to them."
Ilios blinked.
"What?"
"To Aydin and Selene."
The two melodies wove together — Day's brightness lifted by Night's depth, each carrying the other.
Ilios went still.
"Yes," he murmured to himself. "That works."
"What works?"
Sadhi set the instrument down.
"A temporary blending of the courts."
Ilios leaned forward.
"If you are curious," Sadhi continued, "it is reasonable to assume they are as well."
Ilios grinned.
"So I should visit."
Sadhi held up a raised finger.
"Eventually."
A beat of silence followed that statement before Ilios huffed a quiet laugh.
"Everyone loves that word."
"It avoids unexpected inconveniences."
"Fair."
Sadhi turned slightly toward the open sky beyond the arches.
"However, there are ways to begin moving in that direction," he said.
Ilios leaned forward again.
"Such as?"
"A greeting."
"A what?"
"A message."
Ilios leaned back, an idea already unfolding in his mind.
"What about an invite?"
"An invite? To what?"
"A feast."
"A feast?"
"Yeeeees...." Ilios said, a slow grin spreading across his face. "A feast."