Duronaht grinned while the darkness of the early morning peeled away from the glorious fires Gorondos unleashed upon Eynond's outer wall. The Fire Angel abandoned restraint and had spent his few days of recuperation adapting lessons from Duronaht's mages to further channel his powers beyond anything he had wielded before. As flaming chunks of rock blasted skyward by pillars of orange lava-like flame, the Emperor laughed to Omonrel, "If only he'd figured this out when he fought with Tathyk and those mages."

"When we crafted the world, we did so lazily. It was never important to build expeditiously as a limited time is not one of our constraints," Omonrel commented in return. "Being humiliated by your brother's mages gave Gorondos occasion to, shall we say, redouble his efforts. I take it you are satisfied by this?"

When Gorondos passed by Duronaht earlier, the Emperor noted that the Fire Angel now wore a necklace of several glassy red and orange orbs that glowed so brightly it hurt to look at them. Omorel explained that Gorondos had learned to augment his connection to the Fire Aura in much the same way mortal mages had, but on a far grander scale.

The opening barrage proved that point well enough to Duronaht. Gorondos loosed another wave at the walls with fiery shots the size of wagon trains colliding with the stone. Explosions burst across the curtain wall, blowing pieces of the barrier in all directions while the flames howled in a deafening roar. The fires burned so hot that the rock glowed, even turning into a liquid in some cases and splashing to the ground or into the river.

"I do hope brother's seeing this," Duronaht chuckled to Grand Marshal Vildrious, who stood alongside him to his left while a series of more junior commanders hovered behind them. "Omonrel," he turned to his right where the Sculptor floated and passively observed Gorondos's barrage. "Now's the time. Throw those bridges across the river and we'll start the attack in earnest. We should catch him as he's pulling back."

Omonrel smiled and nodded, but then raised a finger and radiated caution.

"To repeat what I said before, it is very possible that Cyrona will view this all as a violation of the agreement she struck with Parlon earlier. I expect her to respond," the Sculptor noted.

"What, are you scared of her?" Duronaht laughed. "You won't be as restrained as her and that's your advantage."

"Cyrona has never been known for restraint," Omonrel commented with a guarded smirk, his crystalline blue eyes flickering. "Just know that I cannot promise you that Gorondos and I can thwart everything that she does. You will lose men, possibly thousands, to her."

The Emperor heard some of his junior commanders mutter to one another behind Vildrious. He turned swiftly and glared at them. They all stood at attention.

"So be it," Duronaht snarled. "Whether we lose men to her or my brother's army, I don't really care. War is war. It's worth the chance to catch them all on the run."

Omonrel's eyes flickered again and he floated rapidly toward the river. Without wasting a moment, he raised his hands skyward, ripping great chunks of rock from deep under the ground, causing the earth to shake beneath Duronaht's army. Suspending the stones in the air in a strange brown and grey glow, Omonrel then let out an ecstatic gasp as they all formed into smooth stone slabs that he placed across the river, forming three elegant flat bridges.

While the Sculptor Angel appeared fatigued from his feat, the cheers of the tens of thousands of Duronaht's soldiers quickly restored him. He bowed and otherwise absorbed the adulation while the columns surged forward toward the burning walls of Eynond.

I think you've run out of luck this time, brother.

~

Rohmhelt watched the horizon as he stood some ten miles northwest of Eynond as his forces, those fortunate enough to withdraw, retreated still further to the northwest behind him. All that he heard from Marshal Kordov's assault was that it had begun well, even if now Duronaht's forces began a counterattack. This was expected. However, when he saw great columns of flame leap against the night sky near Eynond even from that distance, his knees weakened.

"Gorondos," Vorlan lamented, floating amidst Rohmhelt and his key commanders. "And he has so much more power now than I ever felt from him before."

Rohmhelt immediately wished to ask the Earth Angel how such a thing could possibly be true but, before he could, Cyrona's tempestuous presence swept in front of him and the commanders.

"Those lying slime!" the Water Angel screamed and vaulted down from above on a pillar of water that splashed amidst those gathered below. "Gorondos and Omonrel?! They meant this all along! I will make them suffer for this!"

Vorlan grimaced and floated toward Cyrona, his hands folded.

"I think that is unwise. We are best ignoring it and simply aiding the Emperor's withdrawal, protecting it from whatever attacks Omonrel might..." the Earth Angel calmly explained before he was cut off by the Water Angel's boiling fury.

"VORLAN!" Cyrona unleashed a deafening shout, raising her arms in frustration. "I know you adore addling the minds of mortals with leaves, mushrooms, and whatever else, but do you partake yourself?!"

Rohmhelt swallowed a chuckle. Meanwhile, Vorlan composed himself after an uncomfortable silence.

"I think they mean to bait you, Cyrona. And if they are baiting you, they have a reason. The power I sense from Gorondos is unusual. I have never known him to harness such strength as I sense from him now," Vorlan implored her. "And he was my disciple at one time."

Cyrona scoffed, forming an icy spear that pulsed a bright blue.

"If only he learned your indolence," she bellowed, her body rippling as though a rock had plunged through her waters. "I will settle this myself!"

The Water Angel sprang skyward, arcing toward the south with water dropping along the ground behind her. Rohmhelt glanced toward the Earth Angel, who hung his head and sighed.

"Shouldn't you and the others join her?" the Emperor inquired.

"No," Vorlan wearily replied. "Tathyk, Simel, and I will continue guarding your forces. Cyrona has to learn this lesson on her own."

Vorlan departed in a whir of green light, leaving Rohmhelt, the Empress, and some of the core command staff in silence.

"I know you're wondering if you should turn the army around and engage," Evinda said while Rohmhelt's eyes remained fixed on Cyrona's glowing blue streak across the sky. "Don't do it. I'm certain Vorlan's right."

"I'm glad you are," the Emperor mumbled.

~

Renkyk hid behind Galdrehln's wards as the barrage from the enemy mages along the river continued. His own attempts to use the Silver Aura to hold back the relentless flames gave way to fatigue. How Galdrehln and most of the others could keep their wards up time and again while absorbing that punishment defied his comprehension.

"Hmm... They certainly are putting up a more continuous attack than I thought they could. I can feel it from... wherever it is I am," Nethron's ethereal voice laughed in Renkyk's head. "They will tire soon, though."

Flaming bolts crashed into the ground around them, leaving smoldering craters each a few feet across. Again and again the shots came in. Several struck Galdrehln's water ward and fizzled into naught but steam and smoke. Mages unable to maintain their wards met terrible ends as the flames broke through and engulfed their bodies. Their tortured screams caused Renkyk to cover his ears. As their skeletons, covered in blackened charred flesh, clattered to the ground, he closed his eyes and observed the wisps of the Silver Aura dancing across his vision.

"That should give you more to work with," the Aura Liberator gleefully stated. "You feel it, do you not?"

"Yes," Renkyk muttered aloud. From where the main body of Marshal Kordov's forces met his opponents, an innumerable count of argent flickers graced his eyes and made their way to the Communion of Souls. "There are so many."

"Ren? What're you talking about?" Galdrehln asked during a lull in the attack. "Were you talking to me?"

"No, no. I just realized I can be of more use again," Renkyk smiled and formed a bright silver tendril in each of his hands.

The barrage from Duronaht's fire mages relented further, allowing Erdinov an opportunity to rally his mages. He looked first to Renkyk and Galdrehln and then to the others before pointing to the battle below. As had been planned, the assault split up Duronaht's superior numbers and pinned portions of his army against the river. Rohmhelt's armies shuffled frenetically to prevent their more powerful foes from breaking free, though it was like watching a juggler take on ever more objects at a faster rate. Something would have to give.

"Alright, they've tired out," Erdinov barked and pointed toward the riverbank. "Hit 'em with everything you've got!"

Many mages, skilled in the earthly Auras, ripped chunks of rock and dirt as large as a man out of the ground, and hurled those projectiles over bulk of the armies into their adversaries. Others combined these soil and stone slabs with fire, creating molten bombs that burst amidst the enemy ranks, crushing and burning their foes.

Galdrehln uncorked a couple of water vials and formed two shimmering icy orbs above each of his hands. He then nodded to Renkyk to imbue them with the Silver Aura. Renkyk did so immediately, even as he thought of what had happened earlier to his victims, but he shook off that grief. It couldn't be helped. It was either them or him. Battle allowed for nothing else. A saner world would have offered him another course, but no such fortune availed him.

As the wisps of argent light latched on to every crevasse, the frozen spheres pulsed and whirred. They were staggeringly beautiful, bewitching Renkyk as they spun and shimmered. Galdrehln sighed and heaved them on a high arc well above the battlefield. They fell with a blinding flash of iridescent azure and silver, icy shards laced with the Silver Aura piercing through dozens of hapless victims. As with those struck earlier, their bodies disintegrated, flesh sloughing off the bones and organs spilling out of great holes forming in their skin.

Renkyk closed his eyes and saw the bursts of argent light flicker across his vision. Oddly, the souls of those who had just died so horribly seemed grateful for their pending journey to the Communion of Souls. Where he expected hostility, there was warmth. For himself, he felt not the sadness he had earlier, but rather that the presence of the souls he had sent to Ceuna now replenished his energies, even more so than before.

"Hmm," Nethron murmured inside Renkyk's mind, "most intriguing, assuming that you understand what this means."

"I definitely understand it," Renkyk answered in his mind, a tighter connection to the Silver Aura roiling through his body. "I don't think it's the only way."

"Not the only... No, not the only way, but certainly a convenient one in a time of war," the Aura Liberator added. "I should leave you be for now. You have work to do."

Nethron's voice suddenly silenced while Galdrehln screamed at his side and shook Renkyk.

"What're you doing just standing there?!" his friend yelled. "They're coming right now!"

"W... What?! What're you talking about?" Renkyk answered.

"LOOK! To the east!" he shouted and pointed toward a clash of fire and water that shot a column of steam soaring into the abyssal early morning sky.

At least two miles away, along both sides of the river, the figures flew past one another, hurling bolts of fire and water in frenetic combat.

"Cyrona and Gorondos," Renkyk muttered, smirking. He tugged at Galdrehln's sleeve. Galdrehln's panicked expression faded into a calm satisfied smile, too. "I'm glad you understand."

~

Sensing the presences of both Omonrel and Gorondos, Cyrona aimed to split them away from each other to cease their assault. Soaring above the smoldering ruins of Eynond's southern walls, she saw the smooth stone bridges the Sculptor Angel had thrown across the river, which were now packed with columns of Duronaht's soldiers. Meanwhile, floating above the river, the Fire Angel hurled shot after shot at the city, carving an increasingly deep swath toward the citadel. Broken husks of previously charming old stone buildings remained, wreathed in flame and smoke.

And Vorlan says that we should not intervene, she seethed. He never will learn, will he?

After a deep sigh, she dove down, her long ice spear leading the way, straight into the central bridge. Her blade effortlessly cleaved the stone in two, folding inward toward her point of impact. Several hundred men slid into the river around her as she sprang up on a continuous pillar of water above the now shattered bridge.

"Of course it was going to be you, Cyrona," Omonrel's voice boomed from the riverbank. With a swipe of his hand, the bridge mended back together atop the drowning soldiers, who swiftly sank to the bottom with their armor and weapons dragging them below the swift current. "Coming alone, though? That is bold."

Gorondos ceased his bombardment of Eynond to float closer to Cyrona. His glowing molten eyes flashed while a series of fiery orbs he wore around his neck crackled and glistened.

"I have nothing to fear from either of you pests," she rumbled, sweeping her hands forward and directing waves to sweep Duronaht's forces off the bridges Omonrel had made for them. Panicking and screaming, they fruitlessly tried to scurry off the bridge before the Water Angel's waves were upon them. Before the waves struck, however, Omonrel let out a dull pulse that caused the stone bridges to shake and alter, raising high walls on their exteriors high enough that they insulated the men from being washed aside. Cyrona smirked and said, "I expected that."

Targeting the bridge closest to her right, she summoned colossal ice spikes that broke through the walls and up through the bridge, shattering the splintering the stones as well as skewering hundreds of hapless soldiers. Feeling the ice tear through the armor and flesh of Duronaht's soldiers, she winced.

Not a moment later, the surging heat of Gorondos's fires closed on her. Forming a watery bubble around her, she sighed as she braced to wait out his barrage. The bright orange orbs struck. Sizzles and crackles surrounded the Water Angel. She closed her eyes as she expected the pathetic attempt to be over shortly. Strangely, the fires intensified, burning away more and more of the shield around her. It grew thinner. And thinner. And Gorondos's onslaught refused to relent.

She gasped and burst through the bottom of her shield to escape the encroaching flames and she also summoned three great columns of water from the river, thrusting them toward Gorondos. The Fire Angel responded with a flash of his eyes and hurled flames that glowed bright white at her waters. Steam burst out in all directions, hissing and crackling and scalding everything in sight, including some hundreds of Duronaht's soldiers. With agonized screams, they swiftly succumbed to their melting flesh.

"Gorondos, see if you can take this to a safer location for our Emperor's men," Omonrel called out in his calm and silky voice. "West would be ideal, but you can use your discretion."

Gorondos smirked at Cyrona and rapidly shot through the air toward westward along the Walsan River.

"You filth, Omonrel," Cyrona seethed at the Sculptor Angel, who looked up at her from the ground with his flickering, self-satisfied blue crystalline eyes. "When I finish with him, you are next."

"You best not waste any more time with me if you care about the men about to be burned to ash," he called out. "Off you go, I should think."

Scoffing, she dove straight into the river and coursed through it, traveling far faster than she could through the air. When she sensed Gorondos's presence flying above her, she sprang out with a swirling helix of water behind her that she unleashed upon him before turning it to a series of icy spikes that penetrated his skin.

The Fire Angel screamed, the back of his throat glowing red and orange while he summoned three gargantuan fiery orbs above him. The strength of the flames rippled in the air, roaring like a great beast. Cyrona's own body vibrated at the might now facing her.

The Water Angel braced. Vorlan was right about something, for once. Gorondos is far more powerful than he should be, she fretted. Sensing the nearby battle along the shores of the Walsan River, she also saw a possible solution.

~

Sounds of battle fell almost entirely silent for what must have been a minute while both armies watched the bright bursts of blue and orange that clashed closer and closer. Renkyk and Galdrehln briefly grasped one another's hands as they stood near Erdinov and Dastov's other mages in awe of the sight.

This'll be utter chaos in just a few seconds. That's our chance, Renkyk mused, tingling in anticipation.

But Erdinov broke his own gaze and pointed toward the idle enemies along the river.

"You won't get a better chance. Another volley. Now!" the captain barked. "NOW!"

Most of the mages almost immediately repeated their prior shots of fire, ice, lightning-infused water, and molten earth. With those shots sailing through the air, Galdrehln hesitated, drawing a sharp gaze from Erdinov.

"Do I have to hold your fucking hand?!" he screamed at Galdrehln, spittle spraying all about.

Renkyk nodded at Galdrehln with a grimace. I know you don't want to. We don't have a choice and we need to survive, he thought hoping Galdrehln would see those words on his face. Apparently, he did as Galdrehln nervously opened up his reagent bottles of water and again formed two large icy spheres that Renkyk immediately infused with the swirling tendrils of the Silver Aura. Closing his eyes, Galdrehln sent the spheres on their way, crashing into the masses of Duronaht's troops clustered near the river.

Renkyk blocked out the wails and lamentations as the men were ripped to pieces and turned into miserable piles of wilted flesh and crumbled bones. He couldn't waste his time on that as Cyrona and Gorondos approached, their clashes over the river now within mere hundreds of yards. Each tried to envelop the other in their signature elements, failing each time and leaving staggering amounts of smoke and steam in their wake as they did.

Cyrona, her watery body reflecting the fires from the battlefield, floated directly over the center of Duronaht's lines along the river. Visibly wheezing, she summoned a surge of the river's waters all along the front and held it there, the waters reaching at least a hundred feet high, while she pointed toward Gorondos.

"Retreat now, or I will drown your Emperor's men. All of them!" she shouted, her voice echoing all over the battlefield.

Gorondos silently conjured great shafts of flame all around him, causing the entire field to glow orange in their presence.

"Such is the price of war," he rumbled dispassionately and hurled them at Cyrona's waters.

Renkyk gasped while Galdrehln immediately formed a ward, constructed of soil and water combined, around the two of them. Some other mages had the same thought while most of the rest of the soldiers were simply too astonished by what they saw to even attempt anything.

Cyrona's waters and Gorondos's flames met all along the line. A roaring sizzle, impossibly loud, sounded out, deafening all those gathered. The cloud of scalding steam, more than a mile across, fell upon the men, both Duronaht's and Rohmhelt's, along the river and beyond. Those closest to the deadly haze briefly screamed as it entered their lungs, killing them almost instantly. Men further away wailed as they fell to the ground, clawing at their faces and skin. Near Renkyk and Galdrehln, the effect wasn't nearly as dire, but the entire field fell under a thick fog, preventing anyone from seeing more than a foot in front of them. Those unprotected from the steam still screeched as it fell upon their skin.

"Now. Now's the time," Renkyk whispered to Galdrehln within the safety of their ward, which held up magnificently. Galdrehln looked back at him in shock, motioning to the impenetrable fog all around them. "Straight ahead. Now."

They both set off, protected by Galdrehln's ward, amidst the horrific cacophony of shrieks and lamentations around them. Whenever Renkyk blinked, he saw countless argent strands flicker on their journey into the next life.

This is why. For all of you, this is why we must go on, he vowed. No more of this.

~

Cyrona wheezed after the collision of her wall of water and Gorondos's frightening flames. She considered trying to summon more, but the river was almost depleted. She saw the shallow remnants through the fog. While it would refill from the western currents, that would take time. Worse than the time, she was drained.

Gorondos floated before her, also drooping after their clashes. Nonetheless, she was certain he had more to give than she did. Whatever technique he had discovered to enhance his abilities, it was truly potent and there was no denying that now.

"Low tide comes for you, Cyrona," the Fire Angel mocked her and began summoning another round of fire orbs all around him.

"Spare me the pointless banter, Gorondos," she spat. "Do what you will and I will be back before you know it."

Just as his orbs whirred about him and prepared to strike, Cyrona noticed to the south an array of silhouettes flying against the twilit sky. Amidst the two hundred or so great flying beasts, a welcome, if unexpected presence, emerged.

"Aberos," she gasped and smiled.

Gorondos shot his head toward the south as the beasts closed quickly, Aberos floating before them. Wearing shining tan robes, the Angel of the Wastes' chiseled dark stone face and flashing emerald eyes presented such a welcome relief to the weary Cyrona that she almost felt the urge to cry.

"This changes nothing!" the Fire Angel shouted.

"If you believed that, you would not be so afraid," Cyrona riposted. "What few sparks you have left are no match for him."

"She is right, Gorondos!" Aberos exclaimed as he closed, summoning forth a whirling shield of sand and metal around him. "I can smell the fear on you."

Growling, the Fire Angel loosed his flames to the north on Emperor Rohmhelt's forces. The exploding shots engulfed hundreds of men in a withering conflagration that Cyrona was powerless to stop. By the time she could have reacted, Gorondos's targets were all dead. The battlefield was now littered with charred, blistered, and mangled corpses numbering in the tens of thousands from both sides. Even amidst the towering infernos and impenetrable brume, the battle continued among the mortals.

Aberos came up on Cyrona's flank while Gorondos and the Water Angel glared at one another. The Angel of the Wastes formed two shimmering metal blades, as much scythes as swords, in each of his hands while he floated alongside Cyrona.

"Now, do you want to try that again?" Aberos scolded his opponent as the feathered flying beasts he had brought along with him, Gadisian Stormwings, descended upon the battlefield below, each carrying a dozen or more men on their backs. Sleek and multihued, they were magnificent creatures, even if they had once been created by Jagreth. "I dare you to."

Gorondos's ashen face scrunched around his molten eyes, which smoldered with seething animosity. Suddenly, however, Omonrel swept up from the ground to place his hand on Gorondos's shoulder as he floated behind the fuming Fire Angel. The wickedest of smiles wrinkled across his smooth ivory face while he exchanged glances with both Aberos and Cyrona.

"We have already achieved what we set out to do," Omonrel said with a smirk. "Eynond has fallen and the other fronts have gone very well thanks to the distraction you created here. The enemy retreats in shame. Let us back away for the moment and let them ponder their disgrace."

"I know that you are blustering, Omonrel. You wanted more than what you have achieved," Aberos scoffed.

"Think what you want," the Sculptor Angel laughed and began to float away with Gorondos at his side. "Events keep moving my way and you know that."

Both Omonrel and Gorondos were soon out of range and neither Cyrona nor Aberos had any desire to further engage with them. The remnants of Duronaht's forces struggled back across the river to reform their ranks while Rohmhelt's men stood around, staggered by both their success on this front and their terrible losses. Cyrona reasoned that no more than one in three of them had survived the clash.

"Thank you, Aberos," she said to him at last. "No one else would help me, but you came through."

"You can thank Simel. He sensed you might be in danger and asked me to come with all haste," Aberos said. Cyrona silently stared back at him, no words coming to her. "And I was not going to allow something to happen to you."

"Do you truly think something could have happened?" Cyrona awkwardly queried. "Had my mortal form been destroyed it would have come back soon enough."

"I will not pretend to understand what Simel told me," Aberos mumbled. "These are very strange times and we are entering unknown consequences."

~

Renkyk and Galdrehln managed to navigate the chaotic battlefield reach the Walsan River in an unoccupied swath of it. The fog created by the steam explosion between Cyrona and Gorondos wasn't clearing and even brilliant bolts of fire and lightning cast by the mages, normally easily seen, were just faint puffs obscured by the cloud. They're casting blindly, Renkyk lamented. How desperate must they be to keep this damned battle going?

Galdrehln formed a small raft of ice at the shore of the river, which was now oddly shallow after so much had been drained from it. As if he were a carriage driver, he bowed and motioned Renkyk to board. Renkyk couldn't help but chuckle.

With both of them aboard, it drifted eastward until they neared a bridge a couple of miles toward Eynond. The fires from the fortress city still reached high into the sky, visible from a great distance.

"Wegrahn Village is just south of here," Galdrehln said. "That should do for us to have a place to rest. I think."

"I'll trust your judgment on that one," Renkyk laughed, patting Galdrehln on the back as they disembarked on the river's rocky southern shore. "You're better traveled than I am."

"I don't know shit about this area, though!" Galdrehln protested, kicking at the stones. "But we should be able to find a decent bed. I made sure I kept my coins on me."

"I'm so glad that you did because I'm certain I lost mine."

"That's why I was sure to keep mine," Galdrehln winked and pinched Renkyk's right cheek. "You focus on so many other things, I didn't think money would be one of them."

Renkyk blushed, to the extent a red-skinned Kyosok could, and followed along as Galdrehln led them down the road toward Wegrahn Village. In the twilight, they saw the several dozen quaint buildings sprawled out around a flat stretch of ground nestled between a few low rolling hills covered in light shrubbery.

"You know, I just thought of this, I don't know what the loyalties of this place are going to be," Galdrehln said. "And I don't want to talk to anyone who might turn us in."

"You're worried about Erdinov or Dastov?" Renkyk asked. Galdrehln nodded. "Good thinking. There must be some abandoned buildings here. People would've fled for the battle."

As luck had it, one of the first little farmhouses they stumbled across fit the bill. Candles snuffed out, door open, not a soul to be seen. Renkyk wondered if they saw the clashes between Cyrona and Gorondos and left as a precaution, not knowing which way that battle would move.

"They must've fled in a hurry," Galdrehln muttered as he walked around the main living space, causing the floorboards to creak. "Not a lot to work with for breakfast, but I'll think of something."

Renkyk, closing the front door, hadn't even considered how hungry he was until then.

"Oh right. We do need to eat, don't we?" he smiled.

"You're not saying I should lose weight, are you?" Galdrehln feigned outrage, his thick eyebrows rising high into his messy blue green hair. "Anyway, there're some eggs and spices. We can do something. I think we eat, then sleep. Sound good?"

"Fine by me," Renkyk cheerfully answered while he took a seat at the cracked dining table.

As Galdrehln cooked with a small fire, Renkyk closed his eyes and listened for the distant sounds of battle. The bells of Enynond had fallen silent, but horns and drums still sounded out in the distance. Countless argent wisps rose up from the north on their way to the Communion of Souls. Observing them, he simply shook his head.

Stiff autumn winds beat against the farmhouse, causing the windows to rattle. Through holes in the walls, the winds howled and whistled, bringing a nasty draft with them. Renkyk sighed and folded his arms close against his body for warmth.

A loud crack sounded out from where Galdrehln was cooking. Renkyk's eyes jolted open, only to see Galdrehln working by the fire and skillet.

"What was that?" Renkyk asked.

"Hm? Oh, probably one of the logs snapping in the fire. You know how that is," Galdrehln said.

As Galdrehln spoke, a dark silhouette slid past the small window near the fire. A lump formed in Renkyk's throat. When he blinked he saw a puff of the Fire Aura outside the farmhouse.

"GET DOWN!" Renkyk shouted, diving to the ground.

Galdrehln immediately dropped as well, just as the glass crashed and a roaring fireball exploded above them, ripping a huge hole in the wall and blasting away the shelves and cooking implements. Galdrehln managed to shield them both with a hastily summoned ward drawn from a pan of water nearby.

As they both looked up, Captain Erdinov stood with a sword drawn, glaring at them. His uniform had been badly singed and his skin blistered on his left side.

"The Commander and I made clear what would happen if you fled, you traitorous fucks!" he growled. "Now I'm going to gut you both right here."

Renkyk tried to summon the tendrils of the Silver Aura to strike at Erdinov, but the captain immediately formed a ward that deflected them.

"Pathetic. You didn't think the Commander told me about that?" he snarled and stepped forward, his boots crushing a burned wooden beam that had fallen to the ground. Renkyk scrambled backward toward the wall while Galdrehln quaked in place, utterly petrified.

"D-do something!" Renkyk gasped, his voice choking on the smoke-filled air. "Now!"

"That scared fat boy isn't going to save you. You're both spent," Erdinov spat, pointing his sword toward Renkyk's neck, its tip hot from the flames.

"There are so many things I do not see," Nethron's voice skittered around Renkyk's mind. "But this one..."

An argent flash cut across Renkyk's vision. Erdinov stopped in place and glanced down to the ground where Galdrehln's hand, glowing in silver, grasped his leg. At once, his skin sloughed off his bones in great sheets. He did not scream or show any sign of pain. Just a slight shake of his head as his skull crumbled to dust along with the rest of his skeleton. In mere seconds, all that remained of Captain Erdinov was a pile of wilted flesh and dust amidst his uniform upon the ground.

They stared at one another in silence, even as the flames spread around the farmhouse.

"That was fun, but you should go," Nethron's voice called to both of them, riding the wisps of the Silver Aura as they departed the room.

Renkyk reached across what once had been Erdinov and grasped Galdrehln's cold and clammy hand, pulling him up from the ground as they both ran out of the farmhouse and east into the countryside.