A heavy pall had fallen over Ceuna’s sanctums and every denizen of the heavenly realm. Cyrona, for her part, almost relished having been proven correct. Were the conflagration less serious, she would have endlessly berated Vorlan for his naivete. As it was, she only sought to torment him modestly. Unseemly though it was to gloat over Parlon’s atrocity, opportunities of this sort arose less than once a millennium.
She ventured into his sanctum where he sat in his grove, his eyes closed and his body drooping. His grove itself had deteriorated in the time since she had last seen it. The plants had grown wild and disorderly. Cyrona felt that this must have been due to the strains facing the Earth Angel. With his own thoughts besieged by countless troubles, his ability to control his domain collapsed. She would have pitied him if not for her disdain for his repeated failures.
“Have you anything to say to me? Will you at least concede that you have been wrong at every single moment since we began down this path?” Cyrona asked as she floated around her prey.
Vorlan grimaced, but maintained a stolid expression. Cyrona continued to hover about him, glancing at his every movement to gauge any shame she felt he must have been feeling. Had she undertaken half as many foolish ventures as he had, she would never have shown her face in Ceuna again. After a great while, he opened his eyes and acknowledged her presence.
“Did Forynda send you to torment me?” Vorlan grumbled, his mossy beard drooping.
“No, this is my own present desire, but I am sure she feels much the same as I do.”
“That is truly a pitiable thing,” he said, scowling at her. “Feel at least a morsel of grief for those slain by Parlon.”
“I have grieved for them, but that grief is pointless if you will still cling to your foolish hopes of reconciliation between Omonrel and Forynda,” Cyrona scolded. “When Tathyk told me that you still held out hope that Parlon acted alone, I knew you had not yet truly recognized your folly. I see I was right.”
“This is most unpleasant of you, Cyrona,” Vorlan retorted calmly.
“Unpleasant?!” she scoffed with incredulity. “UNPLEASANT?! Parlon has ensured a war that will slaughter thousands, perhaps millions, and you say that I am being unpleasant?”
“Wars are part of mortal life,” Vorlan replied weakly.
“Not when our brethren are involved so deeply. No. You must recognize that we now confront a far different creature than we have in the past. Simel’s worst fears have come to pass and we dare not ignore everything else he has said.”
“You never struck me as one to believe what Simel professes.”
“A fool is only a fool for as long as his words do not come true. His have come to contain far more truth than anything you have said in some time,” she riposted.
At that, outrage appeared in Vorlan’s demeanor.
“What is it, precisely, that you want to hear me utter?” he asked. “Do you want me to prostrate myself before Forynda and lay bare all of errors?”
“Doing so might be an appropriate start,” Cyrona replied with a smirk. “It even…”
Forynda’s call interrupted Cyrona before she could finish. Following her ordinary customs, the High Angel did not provide any word as to why Cyrona was being summoned, or why Vorlan must accompany her. Without saying anything more between them, Cyrona and Vorlan disappeared in wisps of light as they traveled to Forynda’s sanctum.
They appeared before Forynda’s throne to see the High Angel awaiting them. Cyrona was surprised that Forynda did not appear more incensed than she did. Indeed, the instant she had heard of what befell the mortal emperor Covifaht, Cyrona had assumed that Forynda would wrathfully descend upon the mortal world and correct the world’s various ills in a single stroke.
Yet, she still restrained herself. Cyrona observed that Vorlan emanated a certain joy at seeing Forynda’s passive demeanor. Careful, you fool. You might be misunderstanding Forynda just as you have misunderstood everything else so far.
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“I will not tolerate any dissension within Ceuna’s halls. The time for dissonance is past. We must speak with a single voice,” Forynda declared. “Cyrona, you are not to belabor matters that cannot be undone. Vorlan, I can only hope you will at last accept your errors and that you have embraced reason.”
This admonishment surprised Cyrona, but she believed that it was likely a gesture to attempt to ensure Vorlan’s compliance with a future matter. Her faith in Forynda’s judgments unshakable, Cyrona accepted it. Vorlan weakly nodded, carrying a defeated air. That he conceded this debate with Forynda without a single argument was a welcome development.
“You might wonder why I have not descended onto the mortal world to bring order to this spreading chaos. I stay my hand only because of Elaous’s efforts to attempt to mend this madness. As of now, I trust Elaous alone to restore any manner of peace,” the High Angel continued. “Should he fail or should he present unacceptable terms, my actions will be mine alone and I will not be restrained in my deeds.”
Cyrona saw these as more empty words with the same intention of appeasing Vorlan. She had faith that the High Angel saw her position as strong considering her worst fears had been proven correct. Therefore, she could afford to be conciliatory, even as her first instinct was almost certainly to lay waste to those who had defied her, angels and mortals alike. Cyrona felt a portion of her spirit wishing desperately to see that final judgment as it would settle the various disputes plaguing Ceuna once and for all.
“What could Elaous do that you would find satisfactory?” Vorlan weakly asked Forynda.
“Imprison Gorondos and Myrvaness again. Parlon must be punished far more severely. One hundred millennia in a cold void far removed from either Ceuna or the mortal world should be sufficient. Omonrel and the others must agree to return to Ceuna immediately. Finally, Nethron must be captured and returned here to Ceuna where I will defer to our brethren in their entirety as to his appropriate punishment. What must befall Nethron is something far beyond anything we have ever considered before,” Forynda declared with disquieting certitude.
Cyrona and Vorlan exchanged a brief glance. Cyrona felt Vorlan’s deep misgivings and they were not so far from her own. She worried that such an array of punishments would further split her brethren. However, for the moment, she decided that a more prudent course was to agree with Forynda’s edicts.
“All most wise decisions,” Cyrona said, nodding. “Surely our collective judgment will arrive at something appropriate for Nethron’s deep betrayals. Do you not agree, Vorlan?”
“I only caution that you avoid anything truly irreversible,” Vorlan whimpered.
“Irreversible?” Forynda replied with biting condescension. “We are plainly in irreversible territory as we speak. That which has been done cannot be undone. To think that it can be is in pure defiance of reason.”
“What I mean to say is that I only endeavor to ensure that we are able to return to a fully harmonious Ceuna with all of our brethren returned to their rightful places, within the fullness of time,” Vorlan attempted to clarify.
Forynda struggled to maintain a veneer of patience with the Earth Angel.
“We shall determine what is merited should Elaous be successful,” Forynda said. ”You may depart now, Vorlan. I have a matter to discuss with Cyrona that does not concern you.”
Grudgingly, Vorlan disappeared in a burst of greenish light, leaving Cyrona with Forynda in the High Angel’s sanctum. Cyrona watched Forynda adopt a less guarded posture, which revealed doubts and despair that she had not made so apparent in Vorlan’s presence.
“It is my every intention to provide Elaous with time for his attempt at peace. I am certain it will fail, but I owe him the utmost effort in aiding his mission,” Forynda said. “Therefore, I am tasking you with ensuring that any looming war between the different mortal factions does not draw in our brethren. Should the conflict be confined to the mortals, there is at least the chance that we can arrive at peace amongst ourselves and leave the mortals to their own worries.”
“I am honored by your confidence in me,” Cyrona laughed, which elicited a rare smirk from the High Angel. “I will venture to the lands near the empire’s capital and await this calamity they seem so intent on pursuing. Should any of our traitorous brethren attempt to intervene, I will take pleasure in threatening them out of it. May I invoke your intervention should they not comply? The specter of the Golden Aura being unleashed upon them will surely have a dampening effect.”
Forynda appeared intrigued by the suggestion.
“Yes. That would be entirely welcome. Such a threat would be credible enough with all that has transpired, and I shall be prepared to intervene should matters deteriorate further. Be sure to bring Tathyk and Aberos with you. Deterrence is your strongest weapon.”
“And Vorlan?” Cyrona asked, laughing.
Forynda’s face darkened.
“I expect he will continue his overtures to Omonrel without my consent. I could see it in his eyes. Expect no help from him,” the High Angel grumbled.
“And so I will not,” Cyrona chirped. “My first and only priority will be to keep the looming war only between the mortals.”
With that, she departed.
With how crazed Parlon must be to have done what he did, that will be a far more difficult task than I think any of us understand, Cyrona ruminated. Still, there is not one amongst us who would eagerly risk Forynda’s wrath.