"So, you've returned, my Hidaar."

A deep rumble of a voice echoed out of the silence. Azrath's eyes tried to find the source, but it wasn't easy to see. 

"Ah, Oriander, there you are." Darris walked forward, letting the arm that was holding Azrath swing casually. Back and forth, back and forth. Just two of those swings were making Azrath sick. Then it stopped, and Azrath was left dangling woozily from Darris's grip. 

His eyes focused on an enormous pair of black shoes standing in front of Darris's brown ones. While Darris had giant feet, they were nothing compared to these. 

"How long have you been waiting for my return?" said Darris. 

Azrath tried to get a good look at the Ahngreel that the shoes belonged to, but the lack of a neck made maneuvering impossible. He wished he had his old body back. 

"It's been about sixty days or so, my Hidaar. I might have lost track."

Darris's voice was flabbergasted, "Have you been standing there all that time?"

"Yes, of course, my Hidaar. You ordered me to wait. So, I did."

"My God, man. You could have at least sat down!" 

Azrath stopped listening to their conversation as he worked to free himself from Darris's grip. At some point, Darris had softened his hold on him, and he wasn't about to waste this opportunity. If he could free himself and get to the portal—as disgusting as that place was—he could hopefully make it back to Noel, and they could escape. After that—he didn't know what they would do, but he had to act now. 

With all the strength he could muster, Azrath succeeded in freeing himself. He fell, flapping his wings as hard as possible, but his feathers were soaked from Darris's "bath" and were now too heavy to carry him.

Did he plan that? With a bounce, he landed on the stone floor. While his wings were soaked, his fur was dry enough to cushion his fall.

Without hesitation, Azrath hopped to his talons and scuttled towards the open portal as fast as his little legs could manage. It felt so awkward to try and run as he used to in this new form. He flapped his useless wings in hopes of giving him some extra momentum. 

He was only a few feet from his goal when he heard Darris say, "Noren, it appears I've dropped some litter on the ground. Go pick it up for me." His voice had not changed from its conversational tone. 

Azrath was only a few strides away from the portal when a third… something jumped in front of him. He looked up to see a brown, twisted face looking down at him with black eyes. What in Urzuran's name is this thing?!

He had seen it before in his vision. This was the creature that was messing with the portal. Still, this did not prepare him for seeing this thing up close. It was human, yet it was not. Emaciated—so bent and twisted that it looked like just living- caused great suffering. Its face reflected that pain as it stared down at him through matted black hair that fell past its shoulders. It flapped its wings, the same color as its brown skin, that protruded from its shoulders. The gust its flap created knocked Azrath off his feet. 

"Sorry about this, Hidaar's orders." 

And before Azrath could move, a pair of hands snatched him up and carried him back in the direction of Darris. Azrath tried to fight back, but whatever this thing was, it had a deceptively firm grip.

"Here you are, Master!" 

Azrath felt himself being lifted in the creature's hands as it presented its catch to Darris. 

He could see the two men—if he could even call them that—towering over him as they looked down with luminous eyes. The taller of the two was, of course, Darris. But the other, the one Darris called Oriander, was noticeably much shorter yet twice as wide. No wonder his feet looked so large.

Darris reached down to snatch Azrath from the proffered hands. Arath was now dangling by a wing, staring down at the floor. There was a moment of silence as the twisted thing called Noren squatted there expectantly. Now that he was back in Darris's clutches, Azrath could tell just how small and pathetic the creature was in reality. He was one to talk, though, being the smallest, most pathetic creature here. 

"And what are you waiting for?" said Darris coldly. 

"For your next order, my Hidaar. What would you have me do?" If Darris's voice was as soft as a summer breeze, this Noren's voice was rough like a wind that rattled windows, though a wind nonetheless. Yet his voice was somehow kinder than his master's. Maybe it was the supplication in his voice. 

Ha could no longer see Darris's face, but he could feel his grip tighten. Azrath expected Darris to use him as a weapon to hit the creature. That's what it felt like, at least. Instead, Darris's grip softened.

"Actually, there is something you can do for me, Noren."

Noren clapped its gangly hands together in delight. Its smile only looked like its suffering increased. "Oh, anything, Master! It's been so long since I've been ordered around. The guilt's been killing me."

"How I wish it did." 

 Noren appeared to ignore this. "Now then, Master, tell me what you want from me."

"In a bit, Noren. First, I've business to attend to."

Noren covered its disappointed expression by bowing so quickly that its face smacked into the stone with an audible crunch as something broke. It turned out to be his nose as he looked up with his nostrils gushing dark red blood onto the floor.

"Ugh, disgusting," said Darris, "clean that up at once."

"Yes, master," said Noren, who proceeded to lick the blood off of the stone. Azrath felt queasy at the sight. Not just at Noren's vile behavior but also at Darris's treatment of his slave. Azrath wondered if Noren had broken its nose on purpose just to have its master give it an order. 

"Anyway," Darris said as he lifted Azrath to rest on the palm of his hand at eye level, "I told you I wanted to show you something."

Azrath was glad that he was no longer being handled like a sports ball, but he knew better than to try to escape again. He still couldn't fly. And falling from Darris's full height would probably kill him. 

Darris walked towards what looked like a balcony, Oriander walking beside him. Now that he was free to turn as he liked as long as he stayed on Darris's palm, he now had his chance to get a good look at a real Ahngreel right-side-up.

He was quite a bit shorter than Darris, over two heads shorter. He was wide, though, as Azrath had observed. But all of that bulk was pure muscle as his white button-down shirt and black pants looked stretched to their limit. He had expected purple skin like Darris, but this Ahngreel had sallow grey skin, which contrasted greatly with his rust-colored hair and mustache—which Azrath had to admit was a beautifully full mustache. His ears were pointed like Darris's, and his face looked to be carved of jagged stone. Yet there was an eloquence to him that Azrath couldn't place. Oriander's gait was not lumbering. It was graceful and confident. There was no equivalence in Azrath's head of which to compare him.

The Ahngreel noticed Azrath staring at him. His luminous orange eyes glance at Azrath, pupils small and round, unlike Darris's slits. His facial hair mostly hid his mouth, but his mustache turned up as he flashed an unmistakable smile. 

"That was a brave thing you did, little ball. Trying to escape in the presence of the great Hidaar, I mean. Very Ahngreel."

"Uh… Thank you?" Azrath had no idea if that was a compliment or not. And even if it was, he had no desire to be compared to a filthy Ahngreel.

Darris snorted, "Don't go giving him any praise, Oriander. Anyone who believes in submitting to fate doesn't deserve it." 

 This again. Why was Darris so adamant about refusing his destiny? It would only bring him suffering later on. 

They made it onto the balcony, where a strong wind greeted them. Darris and Oriander didn't even budge, but Azrath was immediately swept up and would have blown away had Darris not closed his thumb over Azrath's feet when he began to rise. The humidity seemed to increase tenfold as they stepped outside.

"Look at it, bird. Look at my world and all its 'glory,'" Darris swept a hand outward as if presenting something grand, but his tone said just the opposite. 

Azrath took in the sight. They were extremely high up, higher than Azrath had ever willingly flown. They seemed to be near the summit of a colossal mountain. A vast landscape lay before him, mostly consisting of craggy grey mountains. Lights flickered here and there along the ground, appearing and disappearing in an instant. The only landmark of note was a vast body of water the color of molten gold, which spread miles and miles. It looked like the only water source in the area if that's what it was. 

"Sohaud. Called the land between life and death," said Darris, "It was once uninhabited, and, frankly, it should have stayed that way. But humans were far too curious about this land's secrets and settled here. Not only that, but they conducted their experiments on all sorts of animals to the point where they've adapted to live in this hellhole."

Azrath was surprised at this. How could anything survive in a place like this?

"The universe did not like the fact that invaders tampered with such a sacred place, so they were cursed never truly to leave this land, even after death. But humans are persistent. They found a way to use their damnation to conquer death. With that, they evolved beyond their humanity and became the Ahngreel. They defied the fate they were given and used it to become powerful, immortal warriors."

"Was this all you wanted to show me?" Azrath looked back at Darris flatly, "I'm not convinced. Or impressed."

Darris smiled at him, "Oh no, not at all. I just wanted to tell you what kind of power this land is capable of. And it's all thanks to that." He pointed at the sky with his spare hand. 

Azrath looked up. He didn't understand what he was looking at, but after a moment, his jaw dropped.

"I-is that…?"

The mountains had blocked most of his view of the sky, so he had only caught a glimpse of its color. But seeing it in its full majesty, especially at this distance, had him in awe. It would look like one flat sky of two different colors from the ground. But at the summit of this mountain, he could see the truth. The red, luminescent sky, the main light source for this world without a sun, stretched out vast and empty like any other sky. But the bright blue light was only a hundred feet away. It flowed like a river above their heads, radiating energy more than it did light. He recognized this energy.

"Indeed. You are looking at why Sohaud is known as the land between life and death. That stream is made of countless souls from countless worlds, all making their way to their respective afterlives. You can see—" his finger traced the stream of souls to where it began to split before they reached past eyesight beyond the mountains. "The direction in which it flows; from death to afterlife."

It was Eingh. Eingh in visible form. What Azrath had mistaken as humidity was, in reality, the immense radiation pouring from that endless stream of Eingh. Because it was not just any Eingh, it was…

"The Cosmic Flow."

"Exactly." Darris sneered. "What you are seeing is the physical manifestation of fate itself. And right now, as we stand beneath it, we are outside its influence. The Ahngreel were damned because they tried to wield this power for themselves. Of which they succeeded. It truly is a magnificent sight." He paused, allowing Azrath to take in the glory before them. "That is a unique characteristic of this land, you know. Being able to see what is normally invisible. In fact, all forms of power are visible here."

Azrath looked at Darris, who produced both the hilt and the piece from his pocket. They were both glowing with a soft blue light. 

"I could tell at a glance that this power is the same as the—you called it the Cosmic Flow? Here this power and its residual effects are known as Rau. And I want to know everything you can tell me about it, servant of Urzuran."

His face darkened, mouth twisting maliciously. Azrath shrank into himself. 

Darris broke eye contact, "Noren."

Noren was upon them in a moment, flapping his wings to reach Darris's eye level. He wrung his hands together eagerly. His nose looked like the Imp had never broken it. "Yes, Hidaar?"

"The time has come for your order."

The creature visibly shivered in delight, "Anything for you, master."

"I'm going to be a while. There is a girl fast asleep on the other side of the portal. I want you to be there if she wakes before I return. Don't hurt her. Don't touch her. Just keep her occupied until I return and make sure she doesn't leave."

Noren bowed midair before wordlessly flying toward the portal. 

Noren was going to be alone with Noel? Azrath shivered just thinking about it. "You can't! I need to get back to her! If she wakes up next to that thing—"

"Well then," interrupted Darris, "You'd best tell me what I want then." Then he turned to Oriander, who had remained silent as he watched them. 

"I have something for you too, Oriander."

He bowed, "Yes, anything."

He relayed his orders.

Oriander stiffened, his muscles expanding visibly beneath his shirt, the buttons threatening to pop off. "Are you serious, my Hidaar? Why would you need one of them?"

So, he wasn't just a mindless slave like Noren? His questioning seemed to be an everyday thing judging by Darris's casual shrug. "Just an idea I have. And when you've captured one, wait for me by the throne. And please sit this time. Now go."

Oriander bowed again, "Yes, Hidaar." And with absolutely no hesitation, Oriander leaped off the balcony and was gone from sight. Azrath shrieked in surprise more than concern.

"Oh, don't worry about him. Do you think a little drop like that can hurt him? That wouldn't be very Ahngreel, now, would it?" He grinned at that. 

Little drop?!

Darris returned to the throne room in the direction of a door on the wall behind the throne itself. "Now then, let's talk further in my study. And don't leave a single detail out."

Azrath swallowed. He had no idea what Darris had planned. Whatever that thing Darris had requested was, it had to be something monstrous if it could survive in a land like this. Oh, Noel, what have I gotten you into…?