Nethron’s journey to teach his acolytes how to harness the Auras’ power had taken him into the rocky settlements of the Methrangian Empire’s far northern reaches. In that periphery, he discovered an unusually fertile source of followers. Removed from the empire’s heavy hand, their loyalties were mostly to themselves and their kin. Any concept of loyalty to Emperor Covifaht while he had lived, or to Rohmhelt, the new Emperor, was weak at best. Nor, for that matter, did villagers in that region care at all for King Duronaht and his rebellion.

For the Aura Liberator, all of this was welcome. He had never understood mortals’ loyalties to rulers they had never even seen. That countless thousands would die for those kings and emperors struck Nethron as being entirely nonsensical. He had no animus toward King Duronaht, but he hardly found Zarmand’s king worth dying for or, for that matter, worth killing for. Viewed through the Auras’ prism, all mortals were simply some combination or another of different auras’ influences and that was how Nethron saw them. Sloughing away title and finery, all of creation was built around similar cores.

Observing and feeling his followers’ growing usage of the Auras provided him with gratification he had never known. As more and more drew upon the Auras, he felt as though he was surrounded by their presences. Every mortal who wielded those powers felt near to him, even if they were far away. His sensations were identical, no matter if they came from Renkyk and Galdrehln nearby or by the nameless mages as far away as Karmand. It was all a tight bond he felt with all who embraced the Auras.

That night, he floated above a cliff overlooking his followers’ camp in the rocky labyrinth below. Nethron pondered what Parlon’s murder of Emperor Covifaht would mean for his own efforts. Rumors spreading throughout the northern frontier indicated that great masses of people, both those ruled by Rohmhelt and by Duronaht, turned toward him for a different future. Imagining that some thousands, even millions, would deem him the proper angelic lord over the mortal world baffled and delighted him simultaneously. Should Forynda and her followers clash brutally with Omonrel and his adherents, Nethron knew his own ranks would only swell.

Amusing as this thought was, his idle time was interrupted by a presence that was both unexpected and welcome. Ceuna’s Guardian had found him atop that cliff.

“Elaous, I am so glad that you could join me. Truly, it has been too long,” Nethron said before turning to face the Guardian. Elaous bore an even more dire than customary scowl. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Do not waste any more time. I demand to know what you are doing,” Elaous boomed. “You owe met that.”

Nethron was slow to reply, basking in the sensation of yet even more mortals beginning to command the Auras to their own benefit.

“Owe… yes, I suppose I owe you something,” the Aura Liberator quipped. “Forynda is wrong, as is Omonrel. The mortals do not wish to rule themselves in the shadow of a distant angel, nor do they wish to entrust their bounties to angels who could just as easily be misleading them. They should be given our powers so that they might solve their own problems.”

Elaous’s glowering deepened, his metallic skin glistening in moonlight.

“I am not interested in your speech, Nethron,” the Guardian rumbled.

“I thought it was a good one, if that means anything to you.”

“It does not.”

“Pity,” Nethron sighed. “I suppose you have come to take me.”

“Forynda will hunt you down if you do not come with me,” Elaous said. “You cannot fathom what she would do.”

“And if I come with you, I suppose there would be a good treatment?” Nethron asked mischievously. Elaous, as ever, was a humorless void. “Truly, what would I have to look forward to, should I come with you?”

Ceuna’s Guardian formed an ever more disapproving scowl.

“Your fate would be decided by the full assembly of our brethren, not Forynda alone.”

“That is hardly comforting.”

“There is nothing else I can offer. What Forynda will do on her own is far worse.”

Nethron wondered if this was simply a posturing ploy by the High Angel. The choices she offered were too unappealing for him to even momentarily consider. Even though Elaous had found him, with greater care he suspected that he could evade Forynda indefinitely, or at least until such time as there was a more appropriate compromise than her customary absolutism.

“If that is all you can offer, then I must decline,” Nethron chirped. “I am deeply sorry to have wasted your time.”

“Please, Nethron,” Elaous begged with a quivering voice. That sign of weakness alone piqued Nethron’s curiosity. “I have already spoken with the others. Omonrel, Jagreth, Myrvaness. I have not gotten any progress from them. Nothing. If I return to Ceuna with nothing, Forynda’s wrath will be terrible.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” Nethron quipped.

Elaous dipped his head. Nethron could feel desperation building within the Guardian.

“I feel as though I am the only one who faces this calamity with sobriety,” Elaous mumbled.

“Oh, no, Simel is as grim as you are from what I understand,” Nethron quipped.

“Please, no more jests. There has never been a more critical moment than now.”

“Critical… The problem is that this is beyond repair now. Forynda’s flaws, Omonrel’s flaws, Parlon… Where to even start there? I begin to agree with Simel that all of this was inevitable. Do not burden yourself thinking that this is the decisive moment. That already came and went.”

“I could force you to come with me,” Elaous asserted.

“And yet you are asking me instead. Your heart is not in this and we both know it. Could it be you are so worried about what she will do to me that you now freeze where you stand?”

After a pause, Elaous turned away.

“Hide well. I will do all I can to calm her, but I suspect Forynda will come after you soon.”

“You seem so worried about what Forynda will do if you fail,” Nethron said, pointing a finger skyward. “I urge you to think about what I already considered. If your fear of her responses to your failures is so great, is it possible that she is not worth serving?”

The question floated in the air around Elaous and he plainly pondered it for some moments.

“I will see you again,” Elaous muttered with a grimace before disappearing in a wisp of light.

Alone, Nethron contemplated that he would have to be far more careful to avoid Forynda’s wrath. Should she descend from Ceuna, he knew he would not last more than a few moments against her. While he had been the keeper of some of the Auras, Forynda alone wielded the mightiest of the angelic powers: The Golden Aura. With it, she could bring devastation previously unseen and there was not a single power in the world of men or angels that could thwart it.

And if that is to happen, I must ensure that I have a lasting contribution in this world or all I have done up to this moment will have been for naught.