[Mmm?] Fogo sounded curiously as he flew up to Yana, who was patiently watching over his world.


    [Umm… not sure if you can see this, but your people are fighting.]


    [I know.] Yana answered frankly, which made Fogo’s brows furrow.


    [You know, there’s rarely ever any conflict on Cratus. That’s because I lead my people with a stern hand and… well, I''m actually there to lead them.]


    Yana remained silent, making Fogo sigh as he began to ascend.


    [Oh, well. Let me know if you need any help. The last of the Heavenly Armaments is soon to be completed. Say the word and they''re yours, alright?]


    [Alright.]


    Yana turned his gaze to Soyoo, who sat in his grand palace in the centre of his territory. The Huon Forest was as vast as it was dense, fagged and steep which was key in its defence during the terrible tribal wars of decades past.


    The palace of stone stood atop a mountain, which made it a most treacherous fortress.


    Soyoo was in the palace’s innermost sanctum, pouring over the handful of maps on his table.


    Upon returning to the Ashen Wastes, he declared to his fifty million subjects that they were at war and that his bloodline had been chosen by the ancestors to do away with those who sought to erase their culture and history, a decree he wrote in the blood of any who were found openly practicing Kilnism.


    This lit a fire beneath his people, and their newfound zeal ushered in a decade of prosperity.


    One which ended just as Soyoo died.


    He would go on to be succeeded by his firstborn son, Uugan, who, while intelligent and well mannered, led a sheltered life thanks to his doting mother, the then Queen.


    He was, however, determined to keep his father’s word, and so, after gathering a force of four million men, he sent them towards ?atal under the command of his father’s headmost general, T?m?r. A remnant of the previous era and one of the chieftains who allied himself with Soyoo.


    T?m?r marched for two months until they met the repelling force of a million Kilnists at the natural border that was the Transient Valley.


    The two armies, both heavily armed and fully prepared, clashed.


    The Huoni used the brute force tactics that had worked in the Ashen Wars only to be constantly checked by the Kilnists, who used relatively advanced machines and tactics to push through enemy lines, unleashing waves of fire while protecting their users.


    Most of the war machines were shaped like turtles, and they crawled along the ground on sturdy wheels that carried their steel-plated bodies, which were manually pushed by the soldiers inside.


    These were countered by the Huoni saboteurs, but by the time an Iron Turtle fell, it would have burnt at least a hundred soldiers.


    Another advantage the Kilnists had was their superior medicinal knowledge, which they used to keep soldiers in the fight and minimize casualties.


    Chief among these supportive efforts was the Lady of the First Song herself, Aroeira, who personally healed those who were close to death.


    Her elderly self was kept as warm and as safe as possible in the Kilnist encampment, and for the two or so hours a day that she was awake, she healed those she could by praying for them and speaking to their souls.


    Mending them from within, but as the days of violence and death passed, her song grew softer and softer until the day she finally closed her eyes to sleep for the last time.


    It was she who had asked to be taken to the frontlines, and so, after her work was done, her body was taken back to ?atal where she was buried.


    However, what no one other than the other Chosen knew was that, in the moment of her passing, Yana came to her and took her to the Hereafter, just as he had said all that time ago.


    Upon arriving in the seventh dimension with her soul, he promptly poured it into one of the five Halos he’d gotten.


    He then prepared a little more Kilnessence, which allowed Aroeira to manifest a body that both resembled hers in her prime and was capable of surviving in the third dimension. Her body, petite and pearlescent, existed stably in the higher dimension.


    She awoke in Yana’s chapel, and he promptly dressed her in a gown of light.


    [Welcome.]


    Aroeira’s now brilliantly golden eyes welled with tears as she finally beheld Yana; only he was far… shorter. Actually, he was only a little a little taller than her now.


    [Space is a distant notion here.] He warmly smiled upon seeing her furrowed brow.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    She nodded, and it seemed as though she wanted to say something, but she was far too embarrassed, which only made Yana’s smile widen.


    [Come.] He beckoned while offering his hand.


    With trembling eyes, she accepted it and followed him out of the chapel and onto the streets of Hereafter, where she let out a loud gasp.


    “I- Is this the true kingdom of Kiln?] She whimpered while taking in the beauty and grandeur of the city the Angels had built.


    [All of existence is his seat.] Yana softly laughed.


    “Of course! Oh- and pardon my rudeness, Your Dinity! My name is Aroeira-‘


    [It is quite alright, my dear. And besides, you and I are already long acquainted.] He assured while taking slow steps towards Vidente’s campus.


    [The Hereafter is but a place of rest we built and is where we will patiently await the day.] He nodded to himself.


    Tangentially, something Yana enjoyed about interacting with regular humans was how time seemed to slow down since they experienced time differently.


    Everything, every second, was of consequence to the mortals and, after having existed for several eternities, he found it refreshing.


    The two made their way into Vidente’s Hall, where she was busy sketching a diagram using light.


    She keenly inspected her holographic projection, which depicted a complex web-like structure, and shook her head disapprovingly before finally turning to Yana and Aroeira.


    [Oh! Is that one of your chosen people?]


    Aroeira quivered as the inquisitive Angel approached.


    [Yes. What do you think?] Yana asked as Vidente looked the woman over.


    [All within expectations. Her soul actively reconfigured its new Halo to better suit its new form… if only I could figure out how to do the same. Hopefully, your joint prayers will reach him sooner rather than later.]


    Aroeira marvelled at Vidente’s words while trying not to cry because she was in the presence of two Angels.


    Yana bid her farewell before leading her to a spot just outside the city where they sat on a slab of floating marble.


    He then looked up into the white expanse above.


    [You saw Him, right?] He muttered.


    [Y- Yes, Your Divinity! I beheld His Wholeness and did as instructed. I called to Him in prayer and professed my ever-lasting gratitude!]


    [Good. If I can be completely honest, that is all we can do. I''m nowhere near as smart as Vidente, and even she hasn’t been able to find a way to reach him.]


    Aroeira felt her heart ache under the direct weight of Yana’s grief, but she had gotten all this way to help, so she sent him all of her faith and reverence.


    Yana closed his eyes and felt her efforts like the warm light of a candle on moonless night.


    [Thank you.]


    Aroeira smiled as Yana let out a deep sigh. Experiencing, for the fraction of a moment, a bit of relief.


    He then turned his gaze downwards, prompting Aroeira to do the same.


    [Let us await the arrival of the others.]


    The war on Caesia had raged on for several months with the Kilnists pushing the Huoni further and further into the Ashen Wastes.


    What should have been a simply conquest, turned into a political mess as the Ministers, Chieftains who were given new positions after submitting to the late Soyoo, doubted Uugan’s competence and so began to withdrawing the support of their regions, letting Uugan bear the weight of the war on his own which turned the chieftain bitter.


    He turned his scorn towards his own people, bringing tyranny and despair to the war-drained territory.


    The ministers foresaw that he would ultimately come for them, and so, in a grand act of betrayal, they allowed the Kilnist forces to pass through their lands under the condition that they maintained their sovereignty after the war was over.


    The rulers of ?atal accepted their terms, demanding the capital in turn, and marched into the grand palace with little effort, where they captured a now deranged Uugan whom they imprisoned before raising their flag, the perfect circle and symbol of Kiln over the palace.


    Meanwhile, back in the now illustrious ?atal, Taung watched over Touma?, who had stubbornly chosen to spend the last of his days in his humble wooden home, which hadn’t changed all that much since the elder built it himself.


    The light of the full moon whispered in through closed curtains, and with weary eyes, Tuang watched as his friend struggled for every breath.


    “I''m sorry.” The boy whimpered, and the elder opened his eyes, still brilliant and gold.


    “I don’t think I’ll be able to follow you and the others for a while.”


    Touma? breathed deeply before ever so gently resting his cold, dry hand on the boy’s cheek.


    “That… simply means your work here is not done.”


    His voice may have been as soft as the echo of a whisper, but Taung heard it clearly, and it only served to deepen his pain.


    “Don’t say that when you’re leaving me. Hold on a little longer so that we can do it together. Just like always… don’t… don’t leave me alone.” Tuang broke down, loudly crying, letting his tears fall onto the elder’s wizened skin.


    “Take comfort, sweetest child, in His embrace… where you will find me.”


    Tuang felt the strength finally leave Touma?’s hand, and he cried so loudly that all of ?atal felt his pain.


    The faithful slept early on this day, snuffing out their candles and torches, allowing the light of the stars to guide Touma? to where he needed to go.


    And, although they didn’t know it, he arrived safely, in the arms of an Angel.


    Touma? manifested in the seventh dimension, and the man, like Aroeira, Petralona and Daka before him, wept at the sight of the Angel who had visited them all that time ago.


    Touma? fell to his knees and thanked Yana for all the lives he had managed to live in the additional time he was given and to all the lives he hoped he managed to save.


    [It is quite alright. While I may never be sure, I think your deeds, in one way or another, pleased Him.]


    Touma? wept ceaselessly, especially now that he stood face to face with Grief made manifest, but, like the others before him, he wondered why Yana was so much smaller.


    Yana explained the nature of the seventh dimension, but, unlike the others, Touma? wasn’t referring to his physical appearance.


    The man felt, he knew that there was more to the Angel and so, with a smile, Yana carried the four he had chosen to one of the many higher dimensions which allowed them to perceive a glimpse of his true extent.


    An Angel.


    A being of unimaginable power and light.


    Of wings that spanned to the very edge of the cosmos.


    Even though they could now see just how far each of his feathers reached, it was still far too limited a view.


    Too blurry a lens.


    As if they were never supposed to see his truth.


    But this made Yana curious.


    What would happen if they did?


    If he gave them the ability to perceive him fully.


    The Oracles were able to perceive the Angels, but they were artificial lifeforms who lived in perpetual pain.


    Yana didn’t want to inflict any of that onto his Chosen.


    So he returned them to his chapel where he knelt.


    [Come. Let us continue our search.]


    Touma? was shaken to his core.


    That even Yana, so close to the absolute, would so diligently pray.


    He cursed himself for ever having questioned the Angel and joined Yana in kneeling, only he used his very soul as a beacon, emitting his longing and faith in exactly the same way that Yana was doing, albeit at a smaller scale.


    The others followed suit.


    Singing silently as a choir of grief.