Rohmhelt had come to miss the strange gnarled and blanched trees west of the Cersomin River. They were at least more aesthetically interesting than the dry and golden brown grasslands between the Cersomin and the lands surrounding Karmand.

"This is even bleaker than I remember," Empress Evinda commented while dressed in her blindingly white robes, which stood out all the more against that drudgery. "Has there been drought?"

"Not of note," Lohs chimed in as he rode along on his brown horse. His increasingly weak voice had a hard time breaking above the churning and clanking of the plate-clad heavy infantry around them. Rohmhelt grimaced as he noticed Lohs's steadily progressing illness, but didn't have the heart to mention it directly. "I'm afraid it's almost always like this."

"There are times I wonder why the angels made any land this way," Rohmhelt groaned. "At least it doesn't make it easier for us to be pursued. It's as bad for us as it is for the enemy."

Grand Marshal Agrehn, who had shaken off the disgrace of attempting to resign a couple weeks earlier, again seemed confident of his orders. He was pleased by reports of what his increasing number of mages were able to accomplish in fighting delaying actions up and down the front to give them breathing room in their withdrawal. He regularly rode between the large command staff trailing behind the Emperor and Empress and just along Rohmhelt's left, passing along the latest updates to the Emperor.

"Unfortunately," he began to conclude one of his reports, "these raids by Jagreth's beasts well to the north and south of the main front keep forcing us to peel men off and do what they can to help."

"And we can't very well do nothing, can we?" Rohmhelt sighed.

"Quite so. Doing so will either allow villages to be slaughtered or force those villages to change allegiances in order to avoid their fate. It's hard for me to believe that a war that began with the largest organized field battle in history has degenerated into this sort of loathsome raiding and the barbarism," the Grand Marshal grumbled. "But it is what it is."

"It is what it is," Rohmhelt somberly repeated. "Thank you."

After Agrehn returned back to the officers to the rear, Rohmhelt and Evinda shared tense glances, which were only interrupted by Lohs's hacking cough.

"Damned spring weather," the old man said, wheezing his way out of his coughing spasm.

"Do you need to rest, Lohs? We can't very well afford to lose you," Evinda warmly stated.

"No, no. This is fine. I've had worse," he replied, even though, in all of his years of service, Rohmhelt hadn't seen his longtime advisor be worse. "Maybe I should see if one of those healers can do something for me. A draught or some other care."

"That'd be for the best, I think," Evinda said. "Take care of yourself."

Lohs bowed to the Imperial couple spurred his horse northward toward the medical wagons. Evinda looked to the Emperor once Lohs had departed and seemed to be trying to read his face.

"I know he's like a second father to you," she said, reaching her left hand to graze his right. "You're worried about him."

"Yeah," Rohmhelt mumbled. "Funny thing is that he was the one to tell me my mother was going to die when she fell ill. Everyone else was hiding it. No one wanted me to know," he paused as he recalled the episode, but swiftly changed his focus. "Anyway, Aberos said that the Wingmother of Osilintis will probably visit tonight once we make camp. I keep forgetting her name."

Evinda's face struggled to shift from concern to intrigue following Rohmhelt's rapid change in subject.

"Nanikaw," Evinda replied with a forced laugh. "Wingmother Nanikaw. I've tried to ask more about them just so I don't offend. Apparently, you have to bow to her and any of the Flockmothers with your arms folded across your chest, left over right, and..."

"Like this?" Rohmhelt practiced quickly, but then gripped his horse's reins again. "Also, how is the Wingmother addressed? We have 'Imperial Majesty', which I've never cared for but I have no say in the matter, but what do they have?"

"They have their own word. 'Teluri'," the Empress said with an affectation that caught Rohmhelt off-guard. "That's how I was told to say it."

"By whom?"

"Aberos."

"Ah. Well, I suppose he'd know, wouldn't he?" Rohmhelt laughed. The Barrens Angel had been responsible for creating the denizens of Osilintis, along with Vorlan. If there was anyone, mortal or angel, who could impart useful knowledge about these new allies he had brought into Rohmhelt's fold, it was Aberos himself. "Where is he, anyway?"

"Busy trying to create enough new beasts of our own to fend off Jagreth," Evinda sighed. "When this all started, I never appreciated what a problem Jagreth would be. My menace, before I ever met you, was always Omonrel."

"Parlon was always mine. Omonrel is ultimately responsible for all of this, though. He set it all in motion. It doesn't even matter now, though. It's all got a life of its own," he mumbled. He then heard distant horns blasting to the east. He turned to see the silhouettes of more of Jagreth's Bladewings preying on his rearguard. Aberos, however, had ridden in on flying beasts of his own, great birds and scaled creatures, to join them in battle. Precisely a year before, Rohmhelt would've found this sight astonishing. Now, however, he just sighed and turned back toward the west. "Well, it'll be time to camp in a few hours. Then it's time to meet the Wingmother, right?"

"Do you remember what I told you?" Evinda asked with a wry smile.

Rohmhelt folded his arms over his chest, left over right, and bowed before once again regaining the reins of his horse.

"See?" he laughed. "I remembered."

The protocol stayed in his mind as he paced near the camp's central fire, which had been made large enough that anyone flying in from above could see it at night. Arranged in an arch all around the position, the angels Cyrona, Tathyk, Simel, Aberos, and Vorlan all waited for any effort by the dissident angels to take advantage of the formal gathering to strike a terrible blow. Protected by this formation, Rohmhelt and Evinda wore their grandest formal garments, including their resplendent crowns. For Rohmhelt, he found the imperial crown obnoxiously heavy, but it was a burden he couldn't escape, not for such an important audience.

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The Solnahtern flanked them with twenty on each side and a further sixty behind the Imperial couple. Their armor glinted magnificently with the fire's blaze and the jewels on their pikes sparkled with each whip of flame.

After waiting for some minutes, they heard the heavy beats of wings to the west. Hundreds upon hundreds of them. The Emperor reached out and squeezed his Empress's hand. She returned the favor and smiled at him as the first of these birdmen descended from the sky above. Gliding down, the birdman gently flapped its white and gray feathered wings. It wore a dark patterned sash around its neck that lightly pressed into its fathers and held an ornamental spear in its right wing. Once its talons grasped the ground, it immediately bowed to the Emperor and Empress, left wing over right, and then straightened its feathers with a slight shake.

"Your Imperial Majesties," it began with a voice high and screeching enough that Rohmhelt remained uncertain as to whether this herald was male or female. Its eyes were yellow and round with giant circular pupils in their center. Below and between its eyes was a polished dark yellow hooked beak through which it spoke. The beak moved so little compared to the volume of its voice that the Emperor wondered if it utilized some form of trickery to speak. "Teluri Wingmother Nanikaw is bidding me to tell you that it is her singular honor being in your presence tonight, should you be willing to receive her at this time."

Clearing his throat, Rohmhelt nodded and pondered precisely how it was that "Teluri" was to be used along the title of Wingmother. The herald's usage was something other than he expected. He wished he had asked Evinda or Aberos more about the style of address before this gathering. It seemed to make more sense at the time she told him.

"It is our own greatest honor to receive her," the Emperor replied, trying to avoid the issue until Nanikaw descended.

The herald bowed again and then called up to the birdmen swirling high above, using a warbling squawk. At once, a circling squad of ten of the birdmen illuminated orbs they carried around their necks with brilliant white light, which formed the illusion of a continuous loop as they circled at greater speed. They, too, called upward with a warbling cry, which was matched by the whole flock of hundreds of the birdmen, most of whom were unseen in the dark of that night.

I'm so glad they're on our side, Rohmhelt mused as he looked up at this display. This'd be terrifying otherwise.

Within seconds, a group of six larger birdmen, each equipped with bizarrely intricate bows, descended through the glowing circle and formed into two parallel lines of three facing one another. Then, a single far grander one of the birdmen descended, their feathers longer and thicker than any of the others so far. They also wore a far more intricate garment, layered in various pastel colors one atop another and inlaid with gems in simple, yet lovely, patterns.

"I am privileged here to be speaking with you," the high, but smooth voice crawled forward as this grand creature landed, curling their talons into the ground. The bird's golden brown eyes, wreathed in glorious blue and white feathers, locked onto Rohmhelt and then shifted to Evinda. "Your Imperial Majesties, this is being our first true gathering, Osilintis and Methrangia, in centuries. We shall be making the most of this occasion to be furthering our common purpose."

Rohmhelt and Evinda both leaned forward and did the requisite bow, left arm over right. At that moment, Rohmhelt heard Simel's voice inside his head speaking at a bewildering speed.

"You are wondering how to address the Wingmother. Teluri is a title that is used differently depending on the one uttering it," the Mind Angel stated. "The herald used it before Wingmother because of his inferior rank to her, but you, as Emperor of Methrangia, should use it after her name as you are an equal. Wingmother Nanikaw Teluri is therefore the manner in which you should address her."

Simel said all of that to Rohmhelt in a fraction of a second. When Simel's voice stopped, he felt disoriented as the world spun, but soon recovered.

"Wingmother Nanikaw Teluri," he started, which drew an appreciative nod from the Wingmother, "I wish to express my utmost gratitude, not only for myself but for our entire people, that you have come to our aid."

Nanikaw's luxurious feathers lightly shook as the Wingmother again nodded her head.

"But it is surely being the case that you are not speaking for your entire people, or I would not be landing here tonight," she offered in a mischievous tone. "No?"

Evinda forced a chuckle and Rohmhelt awkwardly joined.

"Yes, that's correct, I'm afraid," the Emperor conceded. "Our civil war is a horrible tragedy."

Nanikaw blinked a few times as she looked between both Rohmhelt and Evinda. The Wingmother's eyelids clicked with each blink, sounding almost like the light snapping of fingers.

"A tragedy that we shall be aiding in ending," Nanikaw replied. She then motioned to her herald, who screeched up to the sky above in a series of alternating warbles. In groups of twenty, her soldiers descended in steep swoops before digging their claws into the ground and letting out celebratory squawks as they took up their positions. Some bore thin curved swords, others had staves, but most grasped either bows or spears. All seemed to form up in groups of similar feather patterns, with very little deviation within any one grouping even as there were great divergences between groups. Once they were all assembled, all several hundred of them screeched into the night sky in unison. "And this is being just the vanguard, I assure Your Imperial Majesties."

Rohmhelt breathed in deeply to take in the sight of these great winged warriors. Whether or not they would materially alter the course of the war, they were a spectacle in their own right.

That evening, Rohmhelt and Evinda walked along the camp's western edge with the Wingmother, who kept her wings tight against her back as she waddled between them. Grand Marshal Agrehn, Marshal Kordov, and several other top officers discussed plans with the Flockmothers who led the various troop detachments that had arrived. Rohmhelt couldn't help but note the size of Nanikaw, who towered at least four heads above him, though her build under her puffy feathers appeared slender.

"You have been suffering many defeats," she commented after he recounted the course of the war to her.

"This is true," Rohmhelt conceded. "I'm sure you appreciate why we have been trying to lure my brother back to Karmand. There, I hope the city will prove an anvil against which I can strike back at him."

"You are taking a great risk," Nanikaw replied. "Should failure continue, where would you then be going?"

"I'm putting my utmost efforts into ensuring that we don't fail," the Emperor forced an answer through stilted politeness. "We have contingencies, though."

"I am sure that you are having them, but you must be knowing this: Marshaling an army among my people was difficult. We are never preparing for war as a general rule. We are preferring distance," Nanikaw cautioned, her pupils tightening. "This is being a violent place, prone to passions and atrocities. And yet I am forming up forty-thousand of my people to be fighting and dying here. This is being no small favor."

"We understand that," Evinda offered contritely before Rohmhelt could respond. "And we're appreciative beyond words. We've all already lost so much and I'd never wish that upon any others."

"Except your enemies," Nanikaw said mischievously.

"Indeed not," Evinda answered with a muffled note of anger.

"I am being candid with you, I would not be sending Osilintis's sons and daughters to be fighting here unless the angel Aberos had asked," Nanikaw said curtly, her tongue clicking against the roof of her beak. "We are all owing him, and the High Angel, our loyalty."

Rohmhelt bit his lip and nodded his head.

"Since we are being candid, I understand your reluctance all too well. Most of my men wouldn't be here on their own accord. I wouldn't be here myself if this hadn't been thrust upon me," the Emperor declared, drawing the attention of the commanders following behind them. "I'm here because my brother killed my father and sided with everything that's evil in this world. He and those angels who support him won't stop until they bring the whole world under their heel, your lands included. I didn't have a choice. But now? Now, I swear I won't stop until we've won or I lay dead."

Nanikaw walked silently, turning her head from Rohmhelt to Evinda and back.

"Your reluctance has been turning to resolve," the Wingmother quipped. "May ours be doing the same."