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Transitioning into his physical form, Ahzrael stood upon polished sterling floors that were devised of a glass-like element not found anywhere else in the universe. His chiseled abdomen appeared refined above the reflecting floors, highlighting the deep ivory markings beneath his skin that shined in the light.

Before him stood the great acropolis- the wondrous tower of Vae'lon. Two, towering alabaster walls, gold engraved along the borders, reached for the heavens, curving into a sharp edge at the top. It was so high that usually the peak could only be seen from afar, but when one stood before the structure on the ground, the tower's top disappeared into the clouds.

Ahzrael sauntered towards the grand entrance, surveying the mighty beings before him. A minor distance away, a few hundred of his brethren stood, their faces unmoving and expressions sharp. It was evident that most of them were still troubled about the turn of events, but they trusted and respected Ahzrael nonetheless.

While he advanced, power in each stride, Sirone began to meet him halfway. Her intense, crimson hair swayed behind her while she approached Ahzrael with regarding eyes.

"You're alright," she breathed. Her tenor was full of relief.

His mouth curved into the faintest smile. "Should I not be?" he teased.

Sirone chuckled, quiet, but the placid moment was lost as he rested his eyes on the other Diuxals behind her. Sirone may have given him a delicate moment, but it was gone before it even started.

His brows curved inward, readying himself to speak. Ahzrael was a beacon of power. He held a place among a great council of Diuxals who declared themselves as The Prymes. Ahzrael, however, spent more of his time alongside his soldiers, his clan, his people, leading them in battle, and even growing close with a few.

He was always meant to lead but took no pride in doing so behind the powerful barrier of Vae'lon, in the high seats of the Great Spire where The Prymes usually resided. He wanted to lead from the very core of Vae'lon, with his people, not far from it.

"Family," he began, his deep manner pulsating across the floors. "The spell of the Augura has worked." He cut to the chase, sating their curiosity.

Low murmurs traveled across the plane. Some Diuxals furrowed their faces, filled with sheer discontent, while others had a gleam of light in their eyes, and others had no expression at all. The reception was unequal.

Ahzrael took a few moments to allow them more time to register the information before proceeding. "This is an opportunity that could change the tide of our eternal war. It begins by treating the Inusir as our own. As an ally."

"Blasphemous!" a Diuxal shouted, his rigid voice shattered the air around them. His murky blue eyes exuded a dim light behind the sweltering revulsion.

Sirone looked at Ahzrael as a means to distract him from the bold interruption. "Do we even know how long the spell will last?"

"We don't. Which is why we must act with haste." Ahzrael inhaled a low breath, meeting eyes with the disheveled Diuxal behind her who had recently shouted out his divergence.

"This is not who we are!" the Diuxal spoke again, increasing the tone of his voice.

Nirus sharply raised his hand to him. "Thirious, take heed to your tone," he demanded.

Thirious clenched his jaw, holding his gaze with Ahzrael.

"He is right, Ahzrael." Another stepped forward, her ochre skin glowing beneath the natural light of their world that reflected against the polished floors.

She looked at Ahzrael with solemn eyes. "We all hold your lead with the highest importance, but this is against all we stand for. Vae'lon has never known darkness. Now you ask for us to indulge darkness itself in our home?"

Her remark raised more murmurs with several other Diuxals expressing their concerns. There were a few that remained quiet and even fewer who saw potential in Ahzrael's plan. His eyes tensed, jaw tightening at the disarray between the beings before him. A minuscule force compared to the entire population of Diuxals, but word of the new arrival was quickly spreading.

"Enough!" Ahzrael bellowed, silencing the chattering Diuxals.

He was good for many things, but his power was the greatest force among several traits. He could bring an entire world to ruin then rebuild it again.

He pressed on, "This can bend the score between all that reigns darkness, by using this Inusir against our eternal enemies, the High Evils."

"It sounds plausible in theory, but one of its own may try to retrieve it and expose us all," Thirious added. "We can't be sure other Inusirs won't search for this one. They may already be seeking their lost member."

"And therefore time is not with us. You need to trust in me, for I would never thrust you all into a daring mission if I felt the outcome was a tragedy." Ahzrael headed towards Thirious, standing before him at half a foot taller. He put his large hand over the bareness of Thirious's marked shoulder and stared deep into his eyes.

"Brother, I am weary of this fighting. You are weary. Let us not waste this chance. Do this with me and we will be triumphant." His words flowed out of his lips like a smooth, mesmerizing tune. He talked to Thirious as if it were only him there. He spoke deep and true, although when dealing with an Inusir, one could never be omniscient.

Thirious stared with uncertain eyes, his sharpness gradually fading. But there was still a hint of reserve that laid across his hard face, proving he would not take this lightly. Nevertheless, with a slight curve of his mouth, he shut his eyes and nodded.

Ahzrael stepped away, accepting his response as decent enough, for now. He began walking towards Sirone until he stood in front of all the Diuxals once more.

Scanning their gazes, he spoke. "I will take this information to The Prymes, where we will make our final decision. But first, I must return to the Inusir."

"That will have to wait," a bludgeoning voice announced, emerging from the vast skies. A massive shape hurled down from the orange-indigo clouds in a piercing light, landing behind Ahzrael with an earthshaking thud.

Following it, three more large spheres of light penetrated the clouds, diving at blinding speed and landing respectfully beside one another.

The Prymes.

Ahzrael immediately averted his attention to the new arrivals. He knew he couldn't avoid them for too long.

Their radiant glow developed into solid form, a mighty power sweltering from all four of them. Two of The Prymes stood at equal height to Ahzrael. They bore similar bands, each with unique markings. Their arms flexed effortlessly and their strong jaws were clamped tight. The length of their hair and contrasting complexions kept them distinct from one another.

The first to land presented an ashen-beige tone, where the markings beneath his skin were easily visual. His long, russet hair was swiped behind his ears where it rested just at the base of his neck.

The one next to him had part of his face covered with a white and golden laced hood, shimmering in the light. His hazel eyes stared, expressionless, at Ahzrael.

The other two stood in the middle. They were shorter but still towered over most Diuxals. Their slender frames curved down their waists. One carried a staff with a massive double-pointed tip at both ends that glimmered in the light when tilted the right way.

And the other, her emerald eyes compelling, held a staff with an enormous boulder-like hammer at the end. Both their staffs glistened in white and gold through elements of raw power.

Ahzrael respectfully met each of their glowing eyes. Their faces were stern as if smiling was a foreign notion to them all.

Sweeping her gaze across the audience, the emerald-eyed spoke. "We must speak with Ahzrael. Leave us," she ordered, her serene, authoritative voice displaying no patience.

In an instant, the Diuxals bowed and reverted to a shadowed version of themselves, disappearing to other regions of Vae'lon or to other worlds altogether.

Sirone and Nirus had a minor delay. Nirus looked like he wanted to say something but hesitated. Instead, he gave Ahzrael a faint sympathetic look before they both bowed at the Prymes then vanished.

Turning to face his equals, Ahzrael retained his foreboding composure. "We have much to discuss."

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