Vorlan had expected to be summoned by Forynda after he met with Omonrel. The High Angel possessed an awareness of his actions that, even after so many millennia, he did not fully understand. He could only feel certain disturbances in the earth he had laid and sometimes sensed prayers imploring him for intercession. Forynda's ability to surveil and intercede across the mortal and angelic worlds alike therefore baffled him, leaving the Earth Angel in near constant awe.

As he entered her bright sanctum, he saw her floating off to the side of her throne with her back facing him. An uneasy air radiated filled the sanctum, overwhelming its customary sterile serenity.

"Silence, you pest!" she muttered, clenching her fists. A sharp ringing noise rippled out from the High Angel and warbled through the sanctum. "At last."

"Forynda," Vorlan announced his presence, "that was not directed at me, I assume?"

Slowly, Forynda turned to face him, her golden eyes glowing brightly, then dimming.

"No. No, it was not," she answered, her tone polite, if stiff. "A happening I thought impossible has been tormenting me for some time now. Nethron has learned how to speak from beyond his prison in oblivion."

Vorlan gasped and floated closer to Forynda.

"That is impossible, surely!" he exclaimed.

"And yet he has done it," the High Angel lamented. "There must have been a connection between Ceuna and that realm I failed to see. Perhaps it is me, as I created it. Without the Golden Aura, I have few means to halt his pestering except for a brief time."

"I had no idea that this was happening," Vorlan murmured. He tried to even imagine what it must be like to be constantly taunted by the erstwhile Aura Keeper. So terrible must that have been that he wondered if Forynda would rather have endured another punishment in the Progenitor's domain.

"There was no reason to tell you and so I avoided it," she said, turning away from him briefly. When she looked back at him, her eyes narrowed. "It was inevitable Nethron would leave me with no choice but to tell another. His persistence is a force with which I struggle to contend. I left him with nothing else occupying his time and so he inflicts this upon me."

Vorlan said nothing. It seemed the prudent thing with the High Angel in such a state.

"Yet, Nethron's endless banal blatherings are not nearly the affront your attempts are to reconcile with Omonrel," Forynda seethed, floating closer to the Earth Angel and rising just above him. "What madness has possessed you, Vorlan? After all that has happened, how could you think this wise?"

Much as he had dreaded her inevitable scolding, the High Angel's wrath reassured Vorlan that her spirits were restored. Her prolonged melancholy after the Progenitor's punishment left him to wonder if her true self had been sapped away by the trauma. In the face of her resurgence, he fought back the impish urge to smile.

"Had you been there amidst the futility of that battle, you would see that it is madness to allow this to continue," he riposted. "Both our kind and the mortals savaged each other to no useful end. It will go on and on and on."

"Can you not see that Omonrel will never negotiate in good faith?!" she bellowed, her face turning incredulous. "He wants all of it, the entire mortal world, to himself. Any pact you would reach with him would be the result of him obtaining what he desires and your being desperate enough to accept it!"

"Surely you do not think so little of me to believe that," Vorlan objected.

Forynda answered with only a scalding, silent gaze.

"Omonrel's emotions have become so much like those of mortals," Vorlan began again, gauging the High Angel's temporarily restrained ire as an opportunity to more clearly make his argument. "I want to make sure that he knows there is a path away from all of this once the war inevitably starts turning against his allies and I believe that will happen soon."

"I presume that your offer to him is what it has been for some time," she spoke calmly, yet caustically. "This separate existence in the mortal world for those aligned with him?"

"Had I seen another path by now, I would have told you of it. As it is, I can think of no alternative."

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Floating back and forth in front of him, Forynda radiated palpable unease at Vorlan.

"Have you truly thought through, to exhaustion, all of the misconceived notions behind you offer?" she asked. He did not answer. "Any new land you create for Omonrel and his allies will not hold the same affection in their hearts as the land they know now. That they will one day seek to claim it all is inevitable."

"If that happens, we would fight them to preserve the new order," Vorlan contended.

"And at such a time, we would be exactly in the same predicament as we are now!" Forynda furiously shot back. "All you do is give Omonrel and the others time to plan the next phase of their war. They would begin that conflict at a time of their choosing when opportunity granted them the greatest chance of victory."

Vorlan tilted his head at Forynda.

"What is the alternative to trying this? Victory? I have never seen any path to that for anyone and I certainly do not see it now after battling there. I see an endless war that will burn the entire mortal world to ashes. I would grow weary of saying this if it were not gravely important," he implored her.

She swiped her right hand dismissively.

"If you still hold to hope that such an outcome can be avoided, I pity you," she intoned. "How plainly must the world present this truth to you before you will grasp that? How many times must your hopes wither in the face of reality?"

Speaking with a haunting tone mirroring Simel's own cryptic utterances, Forynda's warning caused him to pause. Forynda's oppressive gaze stayed upon him until at last he had a response.

"I am prepared to be wrong," he said somberly. "But are you truly willing to toss away any chance that events may prove me right?"

An outraged twitch on her face soon collapsed into a forlorn glower.

"We have had this same argument so many times now," she muttered, her head drooping. "Everything that I fear comes closer and closer and yet I still entertain what you say. Why? Why should that be?"

He floated closer to her, bowing respectfully even as she glared at him.

"Because you know how great the costs are of going forward on this path," he said in a conciliatory tone. "And you desperately wish not to do this alone."

She briefly met his eyes directly with hers, sharing with him such a crushing sadness that he desired to look away. Then, her golden eyes flashed and she again took up a more aggressive demeanor.

"Do as you will with Omonrel," she said, turning away. "Know that it does not have my blessing, however. Should he come to you desperately begging for peace one day, I shall admit my error to you. Until then, I reject any notion that speaking to him has any value."

Further angering the High Angel by arguing over that topic was pointless, leaving Vorlan to be pleased enough that at least Forynda did not mean to actively thwart him on his journey toward building a lasting peace.

"I understand. Until that day, I will not trouble you about it again," he said. "When do you intend to return? Our mortal allies could greatly benefit from your..."

"When the need is greatest," Forynda interjected. "And not before. That will be all."

Considering himself fortunate that his discussion with Forynda had not been worse, he departed in a whir of light.

Instead of his original plan to return immediately to the mortal world, he traveled to Rithys's sanctum after sensing distress from the Night Angel. When he appeared in her abyssal chamber, he found her floating between the proxies of her two moons. The moons glowed dimly as they circled around her in oscillating patterns, illuminating her sleek ebony skin.

"Rithys, I was worried about you," Vorlan called out, floating toward her across the utterly empty void between them. She did not respond. "Have you fully recovered from your encounter with Parlon?"

"Yes, I have," Rithys weakly answered, her entire body rotating to face him. Her milky white eyes listlessly wandered everywhere but looking directly at the Earth Angel. "Some time ago."

"I am so glad," he said. "I know it was a terrible struggle against him."

"You have come to ask me to return?" she murmured.

The direct inquiry struck Vorlan silent for several moments.

"Not precisely," he awkwardly replied. "I have worried about how the war has strained you. You have not yet returned to the mortal world once since your battle with Parlon."

"And I will not," Rithys whimpered.

While further closing the distance between them, Vorlan somberly hung his head. Cyrona had complained so frequently about Rithys's absence that he dreaded the idea of having to return to Cyrona to tell her Rithys intended to remain in Ceuna. Cyrona herself had been too afraid to ask Rithys to rejoin her, which Vorlan found exceedingly odd.

"I know you share my fears that this conflict will never end, but I assure you that I am laboring to end it at this very moment," he stated, trying to gain her attention as she continued to avoid looking at him.

"I appreciate that you are," she said, floating closer to the larger of her two moons.

"For my effort to be successful, our allies must win clear victories in the coming year. I see no other way," he said before pausing. He expected a response that never came. "I fear, if you do not join us, that may be impossible."

At last, her eyes focused directly upon him.

"No. I will not be party to something that will..." she stopped speaking and shook her head. "No."

"Cyrona told me that you are worried something horrible will happen to her. I understand your concern, but..."

"Vorlan, I cannot. For Cyrona's sake, I will not help continue this. Our foes are too cruel," she declared, her voice shaking. "All of us should return and remain here. What happens to the mortals does not matter."

"You never felt that way before," Vorlan said incredulously. "I would understand your concern for the mortals and what will happen to them with our war continuing, but there is no true threat to us. Terrible as our own struggles can be, we will always endure."

Rithys closed her eyes and shook her head.

"I once believed that. After seeing what I have, I no longer do," she hauntingly lamented. "I will try to show you."