Cyrona’s plea to Rithys for intervention had moved the moons' creator to approach the unlikeliest of allies. Rithys had never visited Nethron in his peculiar sanctum. Her understanding of the Auras had always been poor. Like the other angels, she had wielded them in world’s creation, but, also like them, she had never properly understood from where their power originated. She was content for them to be a mystery and leave that study to Nethron. The role of the Aura Keeper seemed a horrid burden to her and nearly all of her brethren agreed upon that point.

His lair, upon her visit, was an even greater mystery. Disordered and incomprehensible, it was unlike any of the other angels’ dominions. Vibrating shards of innumerable colors floated at irregular intervals around the wispy silver air that surrounded a slick black platform. Nethron, in his glimmering robes, stood between a whirring circle of a portion of the shards. Glowing colorful pulses radiated from each one, creating a delightful blur. Rithys was drawn to it as she approached Nethron.

“Is that you, Rithys?” Nethron asked. The whirring stopped, allowing his voice to be heard.

“Yes,” she replied meekly.

He turned about and sent the shards to their respective places on the periphery of his sanctum with a single flick of his hand. His eyes flashed amber and orange lights at her, which she took to be a sign of warmth.

“As much as I would like to see you, I am not certain why you are here… Could you enlighten me?”

Rithys paused and examined the Aura Keeper’s Lair, still bewildered by its unfathomable peculiarities. The few pieces of it she could understand deepened the mystery of those that she did not.

“Cyrona asked me to come here,” she replied, still scanning her head over the sanctum.

“For… what exactly?” Nethron asked, his eyes flashing a cool blue.

“She believes you can be helpful in resolving tensions.”

Nethron’s eyes flashed a vibrant violet for a moment.

“Helpful… tensions…” he murmured aloud. “I am not sure that I see it.”

“You do not see tensions?”

“No, I do not see being helpful,” he retorted, a slight smirk rising on his face. “I am not close to any of our more problematic brethren.”

“That was what made her think of you,” Rithys intoned.

“Ah, I see. Because I am not invested in any of it, that is why I would be useful as a neutral voice. Omonrel must still be angry with me about the Gorondos business, though, is he not?” Nethron asked, his eyes flashing a dull red.

If Omonrel was bitter, that memory had haunted Rithys as well. She had not more thoroughly considered his punishment until he was already sealed away. Upon reflection, she wondered if they had been far too willing to assign a crushing sentence.

“I cannot say,” she replied curtly.

“Certainly. Well, I shall consider the matter. I am loath to be involved in any of this. Simel may be right after all. If he is, I cannot say that I want to be in the midst of that,” Nethron smiled, his eyes phasing green.

“Simel?” Rithys asked. “What did he say?”

“Vague as usual,” the Aura Keeper laughed, but then his smile faded. “I saw what he saw. Flames… death… some collapsing things. It seems to have come from the Auras, but no matter how long I stare at these shards and try to read deeply into their message, they remain an enigma. Forynda never seems to appreciate just how little I know.”

That admission would have seemed odd from anyone else. As it was, the comment rolled off Rithys.

“I will tell Cyrona that you may help us,” she said and prepared to leave.

“Emphasize the ‘may’ of that, please,” Nethron scoffed. “I will consider the matter.”

While offering little to Rithys, it was enough to allow her to leave and return to her own sanctum. She hoped that with this small gesture she could avoid any further involvement in the feuds between the other angels.

~~~

After Rithys had left, Nethron resumed his studies of the aura nexuses that ran through his sanctum. The shards, representing the most tangible extents of the Auras in his realm, whirred around him again. He carefully observed the flow of each aura, looking for differences and disturbances. As his studies ground on, he found his initial observations ruled out by later evidence. It was both aggravating and fascinating. I could be content to keep up this pattern between now and the end of all things, he pondered to his own amusement.

As he had observed the auras for the millennia that followed the mortal world’s creation, he had been able to identify the precise moment when their nature changed. A sudden volatility came over them. Inalterable serenity became oddly violent. It had all been at the approximate time Gorondos began his romance with the peddler’s wife. Why that had coincided with, or triggered, such an event while Omonrel’s centuries’ long involvement with an entire family had not was beyond Nethron’s comprehension. Yet, there was little doubt when it had started.

What precisely that represented, however, was an unfathomable enigma. His role as Aura Keeper had always been poorly defined. The Auras themselves were beyond any of the angels’ firm understanding. They came from The Progenitor, the creator of all, who only spoke to Forynda and Vorlan, its first creations. The Progenitor, Forynda had said, was an entity “whose power renders all of the angels’ combined impotent, wisdom to make us appear as lackwits, and knowledge utterly beyond comprehension.” Its will was alien and without explanation. When the command to create the mortal realm was given, never did any of the angels even ask why. The Auras had been key in the process of the mortal realm’s creation and, while the angels knew how to use them, that was all they knew of them.

Nethron had been tasked with the tedious duty of simply supervising the Auras and ensuring that they were never to be wielded by the mortals. His one notable triumph in his role had been devising a mechanism to hold the Auras in their proper place as the angels’ province alone, even as they angels used the Auras extensively in the creation of the mortal world. Maintaining that peculiar balance was difficult, but Nethron had managed it with his seals. Those were weakening. Nethron tried what he had before, but it seemed to do nothing.

As he became lost in thought, a ringing sound came from behind. It was the more welcome presence of Elaous. Nethron briefly acknowledged his friend and continued wracking his mind for answers.

“Have any further insights come to you?” Elaous asked in his typically impatient tone.

“Insights… No, I suppose not,” Nethron’s voice drifted aimlessly. “I gather Forynda is growing restless over my lack of progress?”

Elaous stepped into the whirring shards and stood next to Nethron, gazing up admiringly. The lights from the Auras reflected brilliantly on Elaous’s shimmering white-enameled armor.

“Correct,” he said after a pause.

“I am giving this my every attention. I have nothing else to keep me occupied after all,” the Aura Keeper said.

“What have you found?” Elaous asked with perfunctory courtesy.

Nethron drooped his head.

“Found… that may be too strong of a word.”

Elaous remained as steely as ever and a trace of annoyance flowed from him.

“Have you anything to show for your studies?” he asked in a firm tone.

“Anything… well, yes, I do have a better understanding of certain properties of the Auras. Would you be curious of those?”

The Guardian appeared impatient, but nonetheless relented.

“It would seem that not only do the Auras originate in The Progenitor’s realm, but that they reside there.”

“What does that mean?” Elaous queried.

“I had to think of it for some time. Have you ever been in that realm? I have not myself,” Nethron said.

“No. Only Forynda and Vorlan have.”

“Yes, quite. And as it happens Forynda once explained to me the timeless nature of it. Every moment you will ever witness is there and The Progenitor is immersed in these imponderable infinities. The Progenitor hears every word I have ever said or will say all in the same instant. Mortals revere us in part because we are eternal, but our moments pass in the same way that theirs do. We simply have more of them. The Progenitor, by contrast, has no moments but one and that moment is all.”

Elaous appeared disinterested in the explanation, which did not surprise Nethron.

“And how does this pertain to our crisis?” the Guardian asked in reply.

“If the Auras reside in the Progenitor’s realm, then they are timeless. Past… present… future. It would all be there. Every wiggle the Auras would have through the mortal world probably carries more information with it than we can hope to realize. That is to say that they may bring wisps of future moments into the mortal world.”

At that revelation, Elaous turned to a more quizzical expression.

“You said you had not found anything. This would be significant.”

“More reasoning than a find. I say all of this in cautious terms as I am not certain, but if you wish. Would that satisfy Forynda?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“If that is all, I will continue my studies.”

“There was one other matter. You have more shards than you once did. What are those?”

Nethron smiled and pointed to them. He would have preferred that they go undiscovered, but it was not the greatest disappointment that he would have to discuss them. In fact, the two newer shards were a source of pride. Great pride.

“There were the Auras we used to build the mortal world, those of the fundamental materials the world was hewn out of,” the Aura Keeper said, pointing to the ordinary shards. Then he turned toward the purple and black shard behind him. “As the world sprouted life, I sensed something else, but only recently did I better understand it. This flowed from the mortals themselves. Love… hatred… fear… ambition. Emotions, their spirit, or whatever it is that they call it. It is a force unto itself, its own aura. We never crafted it, but rather it came out of our creation on its own accord.”

“And what do you call it?” Elaous inquired, seemingly unimpressed.

“Since mortal emotions seem to be a bottomless void, I would call it the Abyssal Aura,” Nethron offered as a jape.

Elaous nodded in recognition, but not appreciation. He then pointed toward a glimmering silver shard.

“And what is that?”

“A venture of mine. I noticed from afar that death and the freeing of the souls of the mortals to our realm creates its own aura. I once thought it was part of Forynda’s realm, but I realized it was something else. It was the pathway for the mortal soul to reach Ceuna for its eternal rest. I managed to isolate and study it.”

“For what purpose?” Elaous asked tersely.

“Purpose… None. Curiosity alone. In studying it, I believe I found that death could possibly be reversed, in theory, if we so chose. Possibly, but not definitely.”

The Guardian’s face soured intensely on that declaration.

“These are dangerous pursuits, Nethron. I will not tell Forynda of this, even though I am obligated to. She has always declared that attempting to overturn mortality would be an unforgivable deed,” Elaous said grimly.

“I understand. As I said, it is in theory. I never intended to do anything with it,” Nethron acknowledged, deflated. The Silver Aura, as he called it in his own mind, was among his favorite discoveries in all his millennia of existence. To simply shunt it aside seemed a great waste, but it seemed destined to be so ignored. “And why are you sparing me her wrath?”

That query caused Elaous’s mouth to form a deeper frown. It was as though he was insulted by the very question. Of all the manners in which he could be insulted, the Guardian most detested his loyalty being doubted. He simply nodded and departed from Nethron’s sanctum.

The Aura Keeper stood alone again.

Friends truly are precious things, Nethron mused.