The spacious main reception hall in the Gadisian Parliament building was not nearly as ornate as Nalt had expected. It had a simple approach with sleek gray stone walls and unadorned gray arches that melded into pillars in the chamber's center. The floor was a white marble with a simple polish and no other designs. Evidently, Gadisian politicians had opted for a humbler approach to be more accessible to the people. It was disappointing for Nalt as he hoped to get a taste of the more ostentatious halls of the wealthy and influential people of Vorlanys.

Amidst the hundreds of political figures and rich constituents chatting and milling about between the pillars was a much more interesting sight. Without any particular fanfare or formal introduction, the angel Aberos had entered and towered above all those around him. With a chiseled gray stone face and shining emerald eyes, he seemed so out of place in such an ordinary gathering that Nalt thought that he might be in some dream from the previous night.

"I say, is this the first angel you've ever seen?" Mastohlt whispered from behind Nalt. "The Angel of the Wastes, he's called. He's been dealing with the periphery of the world since the beginning, creating the lands and races unloved by good sorts like you and me. He..."

"Can you shut up for once?" Nalt interrupted with spite. Just to annoy Mastohlt, he reached out and straightened Mastohlt's collar, which was slightly askew. "And try to not look like a fucking slob."

Mastohlt grinned and gave a mocking bow of gratitude.

"I see you're taking your role seriously and..." the mage began again, but was cut off by Grenna landing a hand on his shoulder.

Grenna, dressed in a fetching black, red, and gold outfit, radiated rage at the two of them. She motioned for both to lean in.

"Now," she whispered, "I needn't remind the two of you that I don't want you saying anything that could be seen as a problem. Anything. Angels can hear an awful lot so that's the end of this, right?"

She then backed away and straightened the frills just below her waist. She smiled and forced a laugh.

"So, looks like we're through a full box already?" she exclaimed and pointed toward the rapidly thinning ranks of the piles of pickled fish on the nearby table. Some of those passing by to gather around Aberos and Chancellor Kivren gave her a curious glance, but then continued on. "Well, stock it back up. Get on with it!"

Nalt dutifully cracked open another box from the rear of the room and held his nose as he piled the fetid fish onto the ornamental silver platters. With their skin so oily, the sound of them slipping past one another caused Nalt's skin to prickle in disgust. He had another, more urgent worry while he restocked their wares, however. Even though Wella and Ovigon had assured him that the explosive powder under the crates' false bottoms was stable and only fire could light it, he was terrified that they were wrong. He moved them as gently as he could, fearful that any jarring movement could set them off. Consequently, it took him a long time to move the emptied crates into the storerooms below the parliament building, once it was time to empty out the chamber.

On his return, he was surprised to see that the workers from the various firms that had provided food and drink for the day's festivities were being urged to stand around Aberos and Chancellor Kivren. Aberos floated just above the ground, his hands folded behind his back and his shining emerald eyes scanning the audience. Nalt took up alongside Grenna, Mastohlt, Wella, and a few others from the Red Blade. He certainly wasn't about to ask any questions. He figured that staying around for this was going to be part of their plan to avoid suspicion.

"Yer in for a treat today. A mighty fine treat. We have here a real live angel of Ceuna! Can you beat that?" Kivren puffed and slapped at his gut. "Now, erm, how should I address ya? I've heard Angelic Lord is what they say in Methrangia."

"Just 'Aberos' will be fine," the angel's low voice rumbled graciously.

"Good man!" Kivren laughed and the crowd joined in. "Aberos, a lotta folks here are a bit nervous 'bout how we're doin' in this war. Now, I've been telling 'em it's early yet and things've switched back 'n forth a few times already. Tell us, how do ya think we're doin'?"

For a few moments, Aberos floated, his gray and green robes flowing as though they flapped in the wind, without saying a word. He let the anticipation build as his piercing eyes scanned the crowd, once falling upon Nalt.

"I have not been part of the battles to date, but I have traveled to the Kingdom of Bohruum, Osilintis, and Varanan. From each of them I have received their word that they will join in the conflict on Emperor Rohmhelt's side," he declared, his voice swelling. "You can be assured that the tide will soon turn, even if it may not appear as such now."

That set off a series of whispers throughout the crowd. Grenna and Mastohlt looked at one another with a measure of surprise and even Chancellor Kivren jolted at the news.

"Heh, I hadn't heard anything 'bout that. This isn't some kinda secret, is it? Somethin' we shouldn't know 'bout?" Kivren asked, scratching at his head.

"I would not have told you if it were. Their commitments will be fulfilled before any word can escape these halls to where it might be disruptive," Aberos boomed with a hint of mischief wreathing his words.

Kivren hopped in place a couple times while giggling. He then threw his arms wide.

"Ya see that? What'd I tell ya?" he bowed toward the crowd as though he were a theater performer.

"But what about Forynda? No one's seen her in months," an older man near the front tapped his cane and pointed his finger at the angel. "Is she too ashamed to show her face again."

Aberos glared at the impertinent old man, his eyes flashing. The angel's rocky face formed even a hint of displeasure despite its seeming inflexibility.

"The High Angel will join us again soon. Her promise to you all was that the world will be yours and yours alone. She favors a minimal intervention. At such time she is required, she will return," Aberos answered in a forced calm.

"And do to her enemies what she did to Zarmand?" another man, who stood just behind Nalt, asked in a harsh tone.

"She did what she thought was necessary," Aberos replied with a chill in his words. "We cannot now know whether it was right or wrong. It is too soon to say."

That menacing answer caused the crowd to silence. Into that awkward void, Chancellor Kivren stepped forward.

"Ha! I think that's enough for the moment. We should be havin' another few rounds of booze comin' in shortly and then we'll discuss all of this some more," he declared. He then jolted and stuck a finger in the air. "Oh, right. My manners. Thank ya to all the traders, fishers, bakers, and all that who provided food for today. Yer mighty good at what ya do, and we thank ya!"

The politicians and other dignitaries broke out in applause while Grenna and the other proprietors all bowed graciously. Nalt also started to bow, but Mastohlt and Wella shook their heads at him. This was some little breach of protocol he couldn't begin to understand, so he followed their silent instruction.

Just after the applause dropped away, Aberos shot his head toward the northeast-facing windows. After a few seconds, a tiny puff of flame reached toward the sky on the horizon, breaking just above the line of buildings sprawling out that way. Whispers broke out among the crowd as nearly all gathered tried to get a look at it. Nalt swallowed hard.

This is it, then.

"Chancellor, I will investigate. Forgive my absence for the moment," the angel said as he swiftly levitated above the crowd and out the chamber, speedily moving toward the disturbance.

Grenna gave the tiniest nod to Nalt and Mastholt.

"Now, now!" Kivren shouted. "That's a damned long way off. No reason to stop doin' what we're doin' here. We have an angel on the case, after all. Time for some refreshments!"

At first, the crowd was a bit uneasy, but Kivren's persistent badgering ultimately wore them down. Grenna, meanwhile, took the opportunity to notify the member of the Chancellor's staff who had overseen the festivities that she would be departing. Given the confusion of the moment, Grenna drew almost no attention. With that, they all hastily left the hall and rounded a few archways surrounding the parliament building to where their horses were gathered in a small anterior courtyard.

Bells rang out all over the city and frenzied shouts filled the air. Whatever Grenna had arranged, it had made more of an impression than Nalt had figured it would. Their moment of opportunity would doubtlessly be shorter than expected. Grenna glanced at the parliament building with an expression that told him she knew how perilous this was.

"Alright, right through that window, Mastohlt," she said, pointing to a ground-level open window that led almost right to the boxes Nalt had put in the storage area below the reception hall.

"I didn't realize how small it would be..." Mastohlt grumbled. "How far away do we have to be?"

"Farther than this!" Grenna pointed toward the arches west of the courtyard that would take them toward one of the rivers and their planned escape route. "I know you can do it."

Mastohlt grudgingly nodded. They all mounted their horses and trotted about as far as they could while still retaining some view of the target. It was still uncomfortably close. Nalt imagined a giant blast hurling stone up into the air that would rain down upon them.

"Halt there," a voice came out from behind them. They all spun to see it was a guardsman, wearing bronze chainmail and gold-tinted boots, who stepped forward in between the group of horses. "We'll be needing to clear this area out on account of what's going on."

"We were just leaving," Grenna said with a smile.

"Well, leave," the guard said, pointing to the west. "I'm not keepin' you."

Grenna gave a wink to Nalt, who was behind the guardsman as he faced her. Nalt grabbed a hammer he had on the right side of his saddle and swung it high up into the air. The guard just brought his head around to Nalt when the blow fell right on top of his head. Along with the clang of metal on metal was the unmistakable, sickening crack of bone. The guard fell limply to the ground. Nalt grimaced at the deed, but didn’t have much time to think about it.

"Now, Mastohlt!" Grenna commanded.

The mage withdrew a few strands of a brown dried root, which he insisted was the best reagent he knew for wielding the Fire Aura. He breathed deeply and conjured a puff of flame from the roots, holding the crackling fiery orb just above his right hand for a second. He then hurled it toward the window.

Just above the grass and stone of the courtyard, it sailed right in line with its target. Nalt's body shook. He grabbed his horse's reins, ready to spur it as fast as he could to safety.

Then, a block of earth rose from the ground in the flame's path. The fiery orb burst harmlessly against the modest block, faint cinders falling to the ground. Nalt's breath left him. From what he saw of the rest of the company, they felt the same shock and dismay.

"Almost," the rumbling voice of Aberos boomed around them. It was so unclear from where it was coming that the whole party looked in all directions in a panic. It was only Nalt who looked above as Aberos descended amongst them, almost directly over the body of the hapless guardsman. He shot his eyes toward Grenna, who dropped the reins of her horse in a sign of surrender.

"How?!" she exclaimed.

Aberos smirked.

"Your distraction was too obviously a distraction," he scolded her. "It was clear what the true objective was. Arrogance is perhaps the most loathsome feature of you mortals."

He then emanated a heavy dull pulse that threw the horses and their riders to the ground. Nalt felt his head bounce along the stone. A nauseous feeling overcame him and he fell into a cruelly painful slumber.