Like some great weight lifted from his soul, the spirit had gone. Wordlessly, and without pain, it left him. The dark magic and the anger had abandoned him. There was a part that missed the power, the sensation that it had given. It was as if he had been brought back to his younger days, when his own fury and lust for vengeance ruled. Diplomacy did not matter then. He was free from the binds of responsibility in those days, not a care in the world to hold him back. Those times were on his mind as he flew from the Throat, Ember perched proudly upon his back. There was no question of where he was headed. Near the Endless she had said. And where else would his heart take him? Even clouded by all the tumultuous changes and undermined with doubt, the golden would still go to her.

The blanket of shimmering blue laid out wide across the land. Matching sets of gold eyes both fell on the water, though Ember's were much more enthralled than Leander's. The young eagle had never seen the sea before, and her heart thrummed away excitedly, claws scraping his neck as she shifted around for a better view. It did not take long for either of them to spot the ink form rooted against the sand. Adjusting his wings, the charger began his descent to the shore, aiming to land a short distance from the lady. He would land with a thud on the beach, feet sinking in with the weight of his form as he went to her.

"Faelene." He said her name over the sea breeze as he approached. Flaxen locks flew wildly about his hide, far too thick to be lazy in such a place. The palomino stopped a short length before her, gazing carefully towards her deep chrome eyes. What would she think of him now? He could only wonder how his behavior had affected her thoughts of him, and the new title of Sultan was likely no help. Ember decidedly spread her ochre wings and leapt from his back, gliding down to land closer to the water's edge. She had been learning much about the basics of flight, but was not yet ready to climb to his own heights. The fowl danced around the remnants of the waves, sometimes dipping her sharp beak down to inspect the water.

"I am sorry for our last meeting. I was not well then." He began gently, regret washing over his features. There was nothing he could do to change the way he had been. Memories of the pegasus spy still haunted his memories. The Demon had gone, but the guilt would never leave.