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For the guards, it was a different story. The light swirled around them--or sometimes skewered them--and wrapped them all up in radiant packages, rendering them unable to move, apart from only two who were still struggling.

Raga Marda and Mikas Cross.

Zeff could sense them both trying to break free--and nearly succeeding, too, if not for the Linebreaker suddenly being there to ensure their suppression.

“Take your kin and go, Rainlords,” said their mysterious ally. “I will clean up here.”

And abruptly, Zeff could sense Raul Blackburn arriving--or more specifically, being carried over to them on the crystalline wings of another bird. The young man was dropped off right next to Melchor, who’s relief was visible.

There came a peaceable moment, as everyone was no doubt caught up in the same feelings of disbelief and uncertainty as Zeff.

Was the battle truly done? Just like that? Zeff struggled to reorient his mind.

Melchor was the first to break the strange silence, speaking up loudly enough for all to hear. “Archangel! Is that you?! It must be, yes?! Where have you been all these years?! Why did you disappear?!”

The luminous bird was quiet for a moment, then said, “I am sorry for all that you and your kin have been put through. But please know that not all within the Vanguard are against you. Some of--”

The sentence went unfinished as the great bird’s head did a snap turn to the side, and then the light emanating from it grew suddenly bright enough to fill Zeff’s vision, blinding him entirely.

And Zeff felt his whole body stop listening to him, as if being enveloped in a warm blanket and put forcibly yet gently to bed.

Almost.

His mind rebelled. Refused to fall unconscious.

The light did not yet fade, but Axiolis’ senses still worked, so Zeff could tell what was happening to the battleground.

Everyone was being moved, shoved aside with urgency--and not for no reason, either.

Because yet another soul was arriving, and it would’ve barreled straight through the crowd of Rainlords on its way to its destination, which seemed to be Vanderberk’s smoldering, questionable corpse.

Zeff’s mind came alive with fury. With rage. It would not be brushed aside, put to bed like a child.

Because he recognized that new soul, and nothing in this world was going to prevent him from confronting it.

For that soul belonged to the man who had kidnapped his beloved daughter.