Light comes through the branches in thin columns through the trees, spilling over the grass in a small clearing beyond the watch tower just outside New Haven. The day is hot and humid in the wake of the rain that persisted the last few days.
Theron sits on the ground, wearing the red and black of the Order. His staff idly lays near him, partially on his lap and crooked in his arm, and a small book with a pen in his one hand. His hair more under control today to match the reflective look on his face.
Looking off to his right he examines the pile of ash where just hours prior Gromit's remains had burned. Where Baph had declared "I reject you" and plunged the last of countless blade wounds. Where Legionaries had piled the wood, Aleena had blessed many candles and the hands of a Crow, a Valorian, a Noktalite, an Ash and others had cast the fire down to burn the fiend's body.
Theron closes his eyes and breathes. Trying to remember some words Carro had told him once about meditating. Doubtless getting them wrong.
For now he just breathes and waits.