Duronaht obsessively examined the ring he still wore from when his father had crowned him the King of Zarmand. Made of so-called "Zarmandian Wetsteel," metal known for its rippled texture, it was a pretty enough thing that he never dispensed with it even when he made his claim as Emperor of Methrangia. Or even after the High Angel Forynda blasted the city of Zarmand down to its foundations.

"I wonder if brother still wears his ring now," he mused in both a laugh and a whimper while riding east in the Imperial carriage.

East and then south. Back to Methrangia instead of riding triumphantly into the city of Karmand. Of course, there wasn't anything to ride into now. It joined Zarmand in that fate. The distant twin cities, with their similar prefixes "Zar" and "Kar", ancient words for "river" and "mountain", both utterly obliterated with virtually all of their inhabitants. All victims of the angels' overwhelming power.

His focus shifted to the mud-smeared carriage window and out along the road to the ruins of Eynond and the settlements surrounding it. Almost nothing near the road had been left standing. The horse relay stations established by his army were almost the only sign of civilization on that otherwise blighted stretch.

Somewhere behind him limped his devastated army. What had been nearly six hundred thousand when the westward push toward Karmand began was now only a quarter that number. His mages, the pride of his army and the source of his greatest advantage against Rohmhelt, were reduced to perhaps a tenth their original number. Being that the mages represented his best option for countering the might of the angels should it come to that, this was an especially acute loss.

On the opposite window, a Solnahtern rider tapped on the glass repeatedly. Only after the fourth round of tapping did the Emperor swing the glass back so the rider could speak.

"What is it?" he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Your Imperial Majesty, Grand Marshal Vildrious wishes to speak with you. He says it's..." the rider said in his dull plodding voice.

"Urgent? Yes, I'm sure," the Emperor slapped his hand on the panel just behind the carriage drivers to direct them to stop. At once, the carriage jerked and halted. "Alright, send him up."

When Vildrious arrived, the Grand Marshal bowed as far as he could without tumbling off his gray and white horse.

"Go ahead. Speak," Duronaht sighed, poking his head out of the window and glancing skyward at the gloomy overcast above.

"We're facing more Varanian raiders than we were when I last spoke to Your Imperial Majesty. And, again, the birdmen keep pouring arrows down on our rear echelons. We don't have a good response," he said meekly.

"The response is to distract them with bait. Divide the army and leave a few divisions to rot. That should buy us enough time to build some distance."

Vildrious's lips quivered as he tried to stammer out a reply.

"What's the matter, Vildrious? You're not prepared to toss another twenty or thirty thousand men away? We've already lost so many, what's the difference?" the Emperor chided him.

"But it would be almost a fifth of what we have left in the main army!" the Grand Marshal blurted exasperated.

Duronaht sighed and glared at him, the Emperor's eyes widening and focusing upon Vildrious to unnerve the dumpy little man.

"I'm well aware of that. Better to save four in five than lose the rest of it," he chuckled uncomfortably. "Once brother sees that he won't catch us, he'll stop. It's not as though he's in good shape, either. True?"

"But..."

"True?" Duronaht repeated.

"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty," Vildrious conceded.

"Then see it done. We'll speak again this evening when we camp."

Without another word, Vildrious saluted and spun his horse around to bolt west with these new orders. The Emperor slumped back into the carriage and signaled for his drivers to continue east with another slap on the panel.

When he closed his eyes, he saw the deep bloody pits where he had gouged out his father's eyes, but this time Emperor Covifaht's mangled visage smirked at him. Duronaht quickly opened his eyes and blinked repeatedly to cast off the haunting specter. Within in a few seconds, it was gone again.

"He would be amused, wouldn't he?" Duronaht mumbled, unwillingly recalling that moment when he had so savagely disposed of Covifaht in the presence of Parlon. His father's screams echoed in his mind, distorted in the most mortifying tones. "I didn't even mean t... I..."

His thoughts turned to something he hadn't thought of in years: His mother. Before she had died, nothing pleased him more than running up to her with the latest model castle or tower he'd built out of clay in the courtyard of Solnaht Citadel. And she was always overjoyed at his accomplishments. Always. Thinking of how she would view him and his brother, presiding over the worst calamities the world had ever seen with millions killed under their rule, caused him to feel nauseous. He breathed deeply and clenched his fists.

Please, know that I've been trying my best, mother, he prayed. I think Rohmhelt has, too.

~

The smells around the Karmand region were indescribable for Empress Evinda. When the winds blew the sulfurous acrid air down from the plateau, all it afflicted had to cover their noses. Eventually, after a few days, the Earth Angel Vorlan recovered sufficiently to devise a solution whereby he converted the fouler aspects of the erupted materials into inert ones, much to the relief of the army and the peoples of the surrounding settlements.

The other angels continued their battles with their traitorous brethren for some days after the destruction of Karmand, but the result was a standstill. At some point, there was an implicit agreement that both sides, battered and bloodied, would simply stay apart for a time.

Rohmhelt routinely rode to the furthest extent of the molten flow down the Nulpan River, far past the plateau to the southeast. There he would stand and stare at the flat melted amalgam beneath Mount Pivox, which itself was now scarred beyond recognition. She joined him there on one such occasion along with the Mind Angel Simel, whose already haggard countenance became more worn and weathered.

"You must forgive yourself, Rohmhelt, and move forward," Simel tried to comfort him in his raspy voice. "It does no good to continue to blame yourself. Not even with Forynda and Vorlan were we able to stop this."

Rohmhelt's head drooped down so low his pointed chin nearly touched the plate mail over his chest.

"Would it be possible for you to speak to Lohs for me? In the Communion of Souls? One of the priests told me that's something you did for her and her father," the Emperor murmured.

"Lyfress told you that?" the Mind Angel asked.

"Yes."

Simel's metallic eyes shifted away from Rohmhelt for a moment and then back to him.

"It is not a practice I favor, if I am candid with you. Keeping a firm barrier between the living and the dead is necessary for peace in this world. I only did so for them to know the fate of Lyfress's brother," he said. "In the case of your dear friend, we know he has died."

"I just want to... I want to know that he's there happy with his wife again there. She died years and years ago now and he's just been waiting for his own time to come," the Emperor explained.

Simel glanced at Evinda for the briefest moment, during which they had a conversation that was far longer.

"And do you agree that this is necessary?" the Mind Angel inquired, his voice wrapping around her mind.

"There was no one in this world more like a father to Rohmhelt than Lohs, even his real father. He's..." she replied to Simel in her thoughts.

"I understand," he interjected.

"I will do so," Simel then said aloud toward the Emperor.

He levitated higher off the ground than he normally did and closed his eyes, his mortal form turning translucent and his spiritual form flickering underneath. Evinda grabbed Rohmhelt's hand as they watched this otherworldly display, as did others nearby in the camp.

Within several seconds, Simel returned to his ordinary disposition, even if he shook a little and appeared to need a moment to reorient himself after his brief journey.

"There are so many more than when I last visited," he lamented, his sorrow briefly palpable before he returned to his ordinary inscrutable demeanor. "Your friend is indeed there and has already joined his wife. He said little, which is ordinary."

"Is it?" Rohmhelt asked, his eyes squinting.

"Indeed so," Simel said plainly. "The existence of those in the Communion of Souls is one of contentment. The only thing he told me to pass on to you is that you must not worry."

"Not worry? Not worry about what?" the Emperor prodded impatiently.

Simel tilted his head, his eyes glinting as sunlight caught them.

"About anything," the angel answered, his voice becoming smoother. "This may be difficult to grasp, but I assure you that it is the most common of sentiments of all souls there. Those few who feel otherwise, I pity them. Their souls float to the periphery of the Communion and descend into a form of madness worse than any you will find in this world. Ultimately, many decide to allow their souls to wither and be stripped apart by what we now, owing to Nethron, call the Silver Aura."

Evinda patted her hands on Rohmhelt's shoulders.

"I don't think we have to worry about that with Lohs," she assured him.

The Emperor let out a single huff of a laugh and patted her right hand in return.

"You're right," he said. "Thank you, Simel."

Without another word, the Mind Angel departed and left the Imperial couple to stare upon the ruined lands of their former capital. Rohmhelt's usual detachment of Solnahtern silently ringed them at a respectful distance, their elaborately embroidered capes flapping gently in the light breeze.

"I'll never know why we had the sense to keep our son and your daughters out of Karmand, but not to... Well, it's too late now," he said with a halting sigh. "I've decided to call off the pursuit of my brother's army for the time being. Neither he nor I are in any condition to fight another battle for months."

"Agreed," Evinda replied, "And we were lucky."

"Losing Lohs, though..." he mumbled. "And a lot of his aides, too. They were all in Karmand when it happened. Governing our portion of the Empire just got a lot harder. Even with so many fewer people left to govern."

"I actually have a suggestion there, if you want to hear it," the Empress offered.

"What? You?"

"Oh, certainly not. It's far too boring!" she laughed even as her eyes scanned the grotesque cooled molten amalgam that stretched back to the Karmand Plateau. "Agrehn is very good at logistical matters, so why wouldn't he be good at this sort of thing? And replace him as Grand Marshal with Kordov."

"You came up with that quickly," Rohmhelt forced a weak smirk. She smiled back. "Absent anything else I can think of before I summon those two to our tent, it'll have to do."

No such alternatives came to Rohmhelt when he ordered Agrehn and Kordov to join him and the Empress at their command tent. They sat at the map table, each of the four of them utterly drained from the recent events. Kordov had made a swift recovery from falling off his unfortunate horse, but the young marshal still looked considerably aged by the strains of the Karmand Campaign. Agrehn, meanwhile, stared off into the distance, almost never blinking. It was for good reason. Just before they had gathered, a more junior officer informed the Emperor and Empress that the Grand Marshal had some four cousins and a nephew in Karmand when Gorondos struck.

Rohmhelt initially simply discussed the proposed arrangements and offered his thanks to both men for their service to the Empire in its most difficult hours. Agrehn silently nodded along while Kordov glanced at where the additional insignia would be placed on his shoulders from his promotion before then examining the map.

There was a momentary pause after Rohmhelt finished describing the reshuffling of responsibilities. The Emperor than exchanged glances with the Empress and Agrehn, strumming his fingers along the southern edge of the map.

"And, Agrehn, I wanted to convey Evinda's and my deepest condolences on the loss of your family in Karmand," he quietly stated. "I... We've all lost so much, I couldn't bring myself to mention it earlier. I'm sorry."

Agrehn slowly moved his head to more directly look into the Emperor's eyes, his own crippled by lethargy. As gently as he possibly could, he nodded and forced the most pained of gracious smiles toward Rohmhelt.

"I haven't been able to bring myself to accept it, either, Your Imperial Majesty," he spoke at last, his voice hoarse from shouting commands days before during the battle. "It doesn't seem real. None of it does. I spent most of the past decade in this part of the Empire, and I just can't imagine a world without Karmand. This entire area, it's like its heart and spine were just ripped out."

"Agreed," Kordov quickly added, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He then circled his finger around the Karmand region on the map. "The losses have been so terrible across the region, even before this happened, and there are the evacuations as well. The greater Karmand area is just devastated, naturally. I'm worried we won't be able to draw very many troops from here in the future. And then, of course, there's the problem with weapons and armor. Losing Karmand's forges like that wasn't exactly something we'd prepared for and I worry a great about keeping our troops equipped. So long as the Traitor King Duronaht has Methrangia, it'll be a trivial task for him to produce the arms and armor he needs."

Kordov's litany was more than anyone else gathered could absorb, particularly Agrehn. Evinda started motioning to the soon-to-be former Grand Marshal to offer him some relief from Kordov's whirl of activity, but Rohmhelt interjected first.

"Marshal Kordov, these are matters we can discuss later in the day after we have your promotion ceremony in front of the troops," Rohmhelt said, yawning.

"Understood, Your Imperial Majesty," Kordov spoke in a fast clip while bowing slightly. "Between now and then, I want to review some suggestions I had about reorganizing the army for the task ahead and we can discuss them at your earliest opportunity."

"I won't keep you then," Rohmhelt forced a laugh.

Kordov leapt from his chair and hastily bowed to the Emperor and Empress before saluting Agrehn and bolting out of the tent.

"He is our finest field commander," Agrehn chuckled, extending his right hand out to the Imperial couple in a reassuring gesture. "You've made the right choice for the army, Your Imperial Majesty."

"I certainly hope so," the Emperor sighed. "Now, for you, I've been considering a more formalized title than what we gave Lohs. I was thinking Chancellor Agrehn has a nice sound to it."

Agrehn's mouth twisted at the suggestion.

"Chancellor? As in what they have in Gadisia?" he asked, his tone turning suspicious.

"Why, yes!" Rohmhelt chirped. "Don't worry, I'm not thinking of adopting their system. I merely want to make clear that you're the one running the apparatus of the state on day-to-day matters. To be blunt, I need to make this obvious enough with a known quantity so that people have faith we'll continue to at least try to govern in these circumstances. After what happened, I want no ambiguity."

Nodding in agreement, Agrehn then glanced at the map.

"Quite so," he mumbled. "The first task I'm going to emphasize is that we need a capital. You can claim Karmand for a while longer for ceremonial purposes. And you can try to lay claim to Methrangia itself, but that invites ridicule. Since we'll have Eynond back in a couple of weeks with how quickly your brother is retreating, that's my suggestion. Have our angels quickly patch up that mess and use it until we reconquer Methrangia."

"For a moment there I was worried you were going to suggest something like Cersolahn in the south," Evinda laughed.

Agrehn stared back at her.

"I was considering it," he replied dryly.

Rohmhelt and Evinda both laughed.

"For now, that'll do," Rohmhelt smiled and motioned for Agrehn to rise. "Thank you, as always. We would've been defeated a long time ago without your efforts."

"I'm flattered Your Imperial Majesty thinks so," he said, bowed, and left the tent.

Alone with Rohmhelt, Evinda sighed and fidgeted with the figurines on the map. It occurred to her that these had most likely been struck in Karmand itself, which had a rich history of such artisans. That history, with so much else, had been wiped out within a few minutes.

"Kordov wasn't exactly polite about it," Rohmhelt began as he sat in a chair off to the tent's left side, "but he's right about how much has been lost. Lohs some months ago said the Empire had already lost at least three million people. And that was months ago."

"He said the same to me," Evinda replied, placing one of the figurines back on the map. "Now? Seven million? Eight?"

"At least," he mumbled and sighed before rubbing his eyes. "There are so many other fronts and battles besides the ones we've had. Just wanton violence all over the empire, without respect for borders or anything else."

"Simel says this is just the first deluge, but there'll be more," she said, pacing before him. "He has yet to be wrong."

"That conundrum has always bothered me," he said, his voice taking on a twinge of anger. "When he gives warnings, or I have visions, or anyone else does, that should mean there's something we can do. All of this has happened because we've done things, or at least the angels have. There's got to be a way to stop it. If not, we'll just have nothing but pale embers of empire left and those will blow away in the wind."

"That could well be all we'll have left of the Empire," Evinda bemoaned and placed her hand on his shoulder. "But we'll have each other."