Renkyk and Galdrehln were stopped under the sweeping stone archways of Eynond's north entrance. A guard, wearing a green tunic over ill-fitting leather armor, reviewed the forged work permits that the two had received a week earlier. By the standards of an early morning shift guard, he was surprisingly alert and continually glared at Renkyk.

"Your names are Foliv Cernyk and Delbrehd... what was it? You must forgive me, but these are not legible documents," the guard asked again, jutting his finger into the parchment.

Galdrehln rustled forward, almost bumping Renkyk out of the way.

"Jeron. Delbrehd Jeron," Galdrehln said with a stilted smile.

The guard nodded and looked at the documents again. He squinted at them a couple of times, his thin, yet flabby face contorting as he looked them over.

"These aren't in the newer style. You said you both came from Methrangia proper, right? The capital?" he prodded.

"Yes, that's right," Renkyk chirped happily.

"You gentlemen didn't happen to get these documents from Askehnd Belov, did you? He's one of the main functionaries there for things like this," the guard asked, his eyebrow raised.

Galdrehln seemed staggered by the question while Renkyk immediately took to actively considering the query. He realized immediately that it was a name from Nimorosian literature. He couldn't quite place the exact work, being a Kyosok himself, but the Empire's dominant culture always did leak through, whether he wanted it to or not.

"I've never met a man by that name," Renkyk answered. He tried to keep his voice in a calm, steady tone

The guard glared back at Renkyk while Galdrehln buzzed with anxiety. As he glanced at the papers again, the guard sighed.

"Well, just make sure that you get new documents from the city hall," the guard scolded them, rubbing his eyes. "We need laborers badly enough they'll accept you. Go on. You can enter."

Galdrehln shook in shock.

"You mean... that's it? You don't need anything more from us," he spluttered.

The guard's eyebrows raised.

"Should I need anything more?" he inquired, his tone suspicious and prying.

"Ah, no," Renkyk said with a smile. "We'll be on our way. Thank you for letting us in."

"Don't make me regret it," the guard murmured.

Renkyk and Galdrehln walked in under the archways into the city proper of Eynond. Surrounded by its high walls, the city had this strange, almost tunnel-like feel. The blue stone buildings bracketing each narrow street were themselves tall and thin, almost like the walls surrounding the city. At the city's center was an imposing citadel that towered above the rest of the city. Immediately around the citadel were the primary commercial rings of the city with taverns, inns, markets and some craftsmen's shops.

"So, Ren, we..." Galdrehln started as they walked down the moderately busy central street, but stopped under Renkyk's glare.

"I didn't go through all of that trouble to have us slip up," Renkyk whispered from behind a forced and hostile smile. "I'm 'Fol' and you're 'Del' while we're here."

Renkyk glanced over his shoulder to make sure that no one had heard that dispute. Satisfied that they were safe, he turned back to Galdrehln, whose doughy face twitched with anxiety.

"Now, let's go find some place to sleep," he said, pointing toward the city center. "Tomorrow we'll get those permits updated, but for now we need to just get some rest. I'm practically falling over here I'm so exhausted."

"I hear that," Galdrehln yawned and stretched his arms before tapping his short stubby fingers on his belly. "I'm also starving!"

Renkyk rolled his eyes as they walked through the city. He tried to keep an ear open for gossip while walking past several clusters of people along the main road. Most of what he heard was inconsequential banter, but he did hear additional references to a calamity that had befallen Zarmand. The few accounts he heard varied in severity from the city simply being "ruined" to being "totally destroyed." One excited cherubic young man shouted "There's nothing left! Not a single stone!"

Just as they neared an inn called "Beggar's Rest," Galdrehln tapped Renkyk on the should to draw him close.

"Do you believe that? Nothing?!" he whispered. "We both saw what Forynda could do, but..."

"Don't worry yourself about it right now," Renkyk insisted. "Let's keep our focus just on what's in front of us. We're both lucky to be alive."

The inn's edifice was that same pristine blue stone that comprised much of the city. Inside, it had a primarily dark red wood interior, all lovingly maintained. Lacquered, polished, and clean, every surface reflected the famous wealth of Eynond. Renkyk, having originally come from a rural village in the Empire's far northeast, hadn't seen much like it. He knew better than to gawk, though. As a Kyosok, he was already out of place enough as it was.

"Good morning," Renkyk said as he approached the innkeeper's desk. The innkeeper, a thin-faced old woman wearing a fine black and gold dress, formed a slight smile in response. "My friend and I here were hoping you might have lodgings for the next two weeks."

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"Certainly," she coughed. "One room is fifty up front and then ten a night after that."

Renkyk recoiled and he felt Galdrehln do the same at his side.

"That's an unusual arrangement," Renkyk mumbled as he tried to compose himself from the shock.

"These are unusual times," she said, her eyebrows raised. "Refugees fleeing central Methrangia. Armies coming through. Angels milling about. Zarmand destroyed. It goes on. I find steep prices keep out the filth. It's something I learned from my mother."

Not wishing to get into an argument with the woman, Renkyk decided to relent and pay the price. After all, he and Galdrehln were flush with coins following Forynda's slaughter of Nethron's other followers at Mount Ceuna. What those poor souls had left behind was more than enough to keep them going for some months. He slammed coins adding up to one hundred pieces onto the table and pushed them toward the woman.

"For the first five nights. I hope that shows our goodwill," he said with a stilted cheer.

Keeping her eyebrows raised, she pulled the small pile of coins toward her and then slid them into a locked box.

"Goodwill or not, at least deep pockets," she chuckled. "Your room is third from the right on the second floor. What should I list as your name if anyone comes calling for you?"

"Foliv Cernyk. My friends call me Fol," Renkyk proudly declared with a wink. That attempt at charm fell flat with the old woman.

"Right," she sighed. "Have a good night, Mr. Cernyk. Breakfast is at dawn. Dinner at half past seven tonight."

Both Renkyk and Galdrehln bowed before heading up to the stairs. Galdrehln then tripped over a part of the rug behind them and tumbled to the ground. His bag full of reagents spilled open, revealing vials of water, various weeds, rocks, and other assorted items. The innkeeper and several others around them stared at Galdrehln's display. Galdrehln scurried around on the ground, trying to get all of his belongings back in his bag.

"Heh. Trying to become something on an apothecary," Galdrehln laughed nervously. "If I can ever stay on my feet."

"Do be more careful," the old woman mumbled contemptuously. "For own sake, if nothing else."

Once they were up in their room, Renkyk closed the door and slid against it, holding his head in his hands. He hadn't appreciated just how difficult he found the prior few weeks until that moment. At least their spacious and well-appointed room was a source of comfort.

"Do try to never let that happen again," Renkyk grumbled, his head still buried in his hands.

"What's that?" Galdrehln asked, his voice muffled as he examined paintings on the opposite wall.

"Dropping all of your reagents. I don't want people here knowing we're mages," Renkyk chided him.

"We're all new to this. I doubt they know what they're looking for," Galdrehln laughed as he jumped onto his bed. It was so soft that he sank right in.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Renkyk lamented before standing and falling onto his own bed. "I heard the Empire's looking for mages. Rohmhelt's portion of the Empire, I should say."

"Ah. Oh, that makes sense," Galdrehln said, pointing a finger skyward. "They didn't have anything to counter our friends who fought at... was that the Keldras River?"

"Nehal," Renkyk corrected him.

"Yes, whatever," Galdrehln continued. "They'll want their own. So you're worried that..."

"I don't think you have to waste your time saying that. Yes, I'm worried."

"Always so damn grouchy," Galdrehln groaned as he sprang off the bed and onto his feet. "Well, I need some lunch. I'll try to get something for you. Looks like you wanna sleep."

Renkyk yawned as he sank further into the bed. Its soft down pillows were especially soothing.

"Yeah. That'll be good. See you when you get back."

Once Galdrehln left, Renkyk drew from his pocket his amulet he had used to conjure the Silver Aura days earlier. He was eager to use it again, but he hadn't had nearly the same success in other attempts. Perhaps it had been that being scared brought it out of him. Maybe he was just lucky.

He concentrated his mind on the amulet. He thought of all of the times he had seen Nethron use the Silver Aura and his own prior experiences. When he closed his eyes, he could see the faintest traces of argent light, but it was very weak. He focused more upon those flickers he could see, letting his longing for its power drive him toward it.

"...forever," an ethereal voice sounded out, jolting Renkyk's eyes open.

Nethron, Renkyk thought.

The amulet was glowing in the iridescent silver glow he had conjured to defend himself earlier. However, as soon as it had been conjured, it was gone.

"Failure. Again," he grumbled to himself, his spirits deflated.

Fatigued by his attempts to channel the Silver Aura, he flopped on his side and decided that it was a good chance to nap and gather his strength for later. As he drifted off, he wondered how it was that anyone as excitable and sloppy as Galdrehln could have success with most of the Auras while Renkyk struggled. It wasn't that he couldn't match Galdrehln on a good day. It was that it took a good day.

This world doesn't make any sense, he ruminated before sleep took him.

His dreams were so prolonged and varied that they actually formed no lasting memories, though he was certain he had overslept by the time he opened his eyes. Indeed, it was dark right in front of him. There was, however, an orange glow from the opposite end of the room. Renkyk sensed that there was more than one presence, too.

He sprang upward and turned. In the chair, Galdrehln was gagged and bound with a bruise on his head. Standing behind him, holding a small lamp, was a tall bearded man wearing an immaculate red and blue doublet and bracing himself on a long ornate black lacquered cane.

"I was wondering when you would come around. You're a deep sleeper," the man said, his voice high and raspy. "Your friend here, and he's quite alright, really shouldn't be as trusting as he is."

"Who are you?! How did you get in here?!" Renkyk spat.

The man stepped around Galdrehln, who was still unconscious from the blow to his head. As he came closer, Renkyk could see a rapier at the man's hip, obscured slightly by a dark blue cape.

"The name is Commander Dastov. Dofehnd Dastov," he announced with suffocating pomposity. "How I got in here isn't terribly interesting. I just took your friend's key. Why I am here might interest you more. I was in the fortress over there and, well, felt something. Something odd. I believe now that was probably you who did that. When I came over to the inn to investigate, I found your friend and asked him what he knew of the Silver Aura, which I believed I had felt. The fool told me. Then he realized he made a mistake. I think you can figure out the rest."

Commander Dastov came close enough that Renkyk could at last see his eyes, which were green and languid.

"What do you want?" Renkyk asked, deflated.

Dastov smirked and closed his eyes. An argent glow momentarily appeared on the handle of his cane before disappearing.

"...mark... forever..." the wispy voice of Nethron skittered about the room.

Dastov then opened his eyes and smirked, his beard rising on his face. Renkyk gasped.

"Strictly speaking, Emperor Rohmhelt and his angelic allies do not look with favor upon studying the Silver Aura, but I feel I can best serve my Emperor by understanding it," the commander stated with an amused tone. "And you two will help me."

“I…” Renkyk started, but Dastov raised his left hand to interject.

“That, shall we say, was not a request. And don’t bother trying any of the Auras against me. I have eight of my men outside,” Dastov smirked, scratching at his nose. “Now, we’ll go to the fortress and begin our studies. We’ll be the Auras’ students together, until I don’t find you useful.”