The Inferno of Potential

Rahsaan sat upright with a gasp, finding the abbey along with his companions had vanished. Thick, kaleidoscopic mist swirled all around him, and he heard nothing apart from his frantic breaths and heartbeat. Wherever he was, he knew why he was here. Voriel would discard his soul and take back what was his, reclaiming his physical form. Rahsaan knelt down and squeezed his eyes shut while his whole body trembled, too terrified to even scream.
“This is it?” He thought, tone as panicked as his pulse, “This is how I die?  Do I even die if Voriel reclaims his body? What will happen to me? Oh gods . . .”
He tried telling himself that the angel was dependent on Rahsaan; Voriel had said through him they both could do great things. Now, those words were nothing but empty reassurances. Voriel had found his body- what concern would it be to him if it was occupied?
“He never needed me.” The young man thought, “He just did not remember or realize what I was. He could have regained his power the second I touched that damned mask . . . “
Upon that realization, true despair clenched his soul. He truly was nothing without Voriel. He was an accident, a twisted prank by a god or some other spirit. An orphan who would let his friends die before he could so much get a bruise. How many times could a full-powered angel have aided their group or the suffering people they had met?
“They never needed me.” He said out loud, “No one ever has. Voriel is more than I can ever hope to be.”
Voriel would have ensured no one had gotten hurt in that haunted house.
Voriel could have driven Strahd away, prevented the leveling of Villaki.
Voriel would have laughed at the hags attempt to threaten his friends.
There would have been no name for the dragon to turn against them.
Ireena’s safety would not have been compromised by a boy’s cowardice.
What good is protecting your life if you are not going to do anything with it? He heard the words of wisdom from his tabaxi friend in the back of his mind.
“That was not the right question, Aspen.” He said, his words quivering, “You should have asked why should I protect my life if I make it worse for everyone else.”
Even if he was able to stop Voriel from banishing his soul, how many countless others would die or suffer because of him? What if . . . what if they could not face Strahd?
He wiped his face, determination trying to rise to the surface and break through his sorrow. It was time for him to make a sacrifice for once.
“I made this choice before.” He said in a whisper,  “And this time, I will make the right one.”
“Are you finished?” The angel’s voice reached his ears. Rahsaan looked up from his prostrating position to see Voriel in his prior mortal form, arms crossed with a stern expression. Somehow, the mist that he and the angel tread upon was solid enough to support them.  
“I am ready.” Rahsaan sniffed, “Do not wait any longer. But will it hurt?”
“Rahsaan . . .” Voriel began,
“No, on second thought do not answer that.” He cast his gaze down away from the angel, “Please . . .just make sure Izek is safe, alright?”
“Rahsaan . . .” The tone grew impatient.
“Come on, Voriel. Do it. You are not waiting on me . . .”
“Rahsaan!” The angel bellowed, silencing the boy apart from a pitiable yelp. The young man covered his head out of instinct.
Voriel grunted,  “I know you overheard what I said to the others. But know I will not harm you. Nor will I ‘take your body’.”
Rahsaan opened his mouth to reply, but he instead blinked twice before he asked, “Wait, what?”
“If I did such a thing,” Voriel began, his posture becoming noticeably relaxed along with his voice, “I would be no better than the fiends I swore to destroy." He shook his head, "I will not do this.”
Still in a state of bewilderment, Rahsaan looked up to Voriel and yelled, “Why?!”
He straightened his back,  “Do you not see Voriel? This is my decision! I am giving it to you!” He held out his hands toward the angel in a presenting fashion, “I am not going to resist you taking back what is yours. All this time was I just keeping it in once piece for you.”
Voriel let out a sigh, and gave a pitying frown, “Then I respectfully decline your offer. And considering what happened the last time I had a physical form, I think you are better off keeping your own body.”
Rahsaan grimaced before letting out a cry of frustration, his tone becoming more pleading with each passing word, “You said yourself you would stop at nothing to have your own form, so you could be restored to what you were! They need you, “ He pointed out into the mists, “far more than they ever needed me. Have you not been keeping track of how many times I have fled from the enemy, letting someone else take the fall I deserved? I am tired of running! Please, just be done with this!”
Voriel’s expression turned stoic, letting out a slow exhale before he said, “So you think that by restoring me to my past majesty, everyone’s problems will be solved and they will have no more hardship, because you just aren’t strong enough to help them? Correct me if I’m wrong.”  
Rahsaan nodded instantly, “Yes! There is nothing I have done meaningful where you did not hold my hand, anyway. You are all better off without me.”
“Funny you think that.” Voriel said, stepping up to meet Rahsaan, “I remember calling for the head of a certain vampire, assured that he was an irredeemable instrument of wickedness. But thankfully my blows were stalled, allowing his curse to be lifted.”
Rahsaan just raised an eyebrow. What was Voriel getting at?
“Ah, and how many times did I claim the gods were dead, that I was the sole righteous survivor in a land plagued by evil. Except that we are good friends with two devout of a benevolent goddess, who has aided us time and again.”
“Voriel, maybe once or twice . . .”
“Please don’t interrupt. Oh, and what about when I thought your brother was just a crazed demon-possessed man and told you to avoid him, when really he had the power of a phoenix inside him and had you listened to me, would be extinguished?”
“Are you done?” Rahsaan asked, fear replaced with agitation.  
“Almost. Or when I disobeyed my master-who is far more experienced and wiser than I ever will be-following after a former comrade of mine who had given himself to darkness. All the while thinking I could bring him back to the light from the depths of hell- where I walked blindly into a trap, getting myself killed and banished to this realm?”
Rahsaan let out a gasp, “I . . . I thought you escaped by sacrificing yourself.”
“I wish that’s what happened, but the truth hurt a bit more than that.” Voriel replied, looking at his right arm. The monk could see the angel’s twisted form matched his own. Voriel met Rashaan's eyes,  
“In the first three instances, I was wrong but it worked out in the end because someone showed humility. But when I was at the height of my power, it was my downfall. I’m sharing this with you because I know what I am capable of. And it may not be enough to free Barovia.” He stepped even closer to the Aasimar, a genuine smile spreading across his face,  “But I don’t know what you are capable of. Even if I were to restore myself, you would never reach your potential.”
Voriel unfolded his arms, holding them at his side,
“Besides all that, I care about you, Rahsaan. The reason I wanted my own form in the first place was so I didn’t have to put you on the front lines when I was needed. If that isn’t possible, then I will remain your guardian spirit.”
Once he finished speaking, the angel held out his right hand for Rahsaan to take, to help him to his feet.
“I promised you that I would do everything I can to keep you safe from the darkness that would try and drown you. That has not changed, nor will it ever.”
The young man looked from Voriel’s arm to his own, holding his right hand in his left, as he said in a small voice,
“Even if I do reach my full potential as you say, what if that is not enough to overthrow Strahd and his minions? Then what hope do we have?”
“That is a risk I am willing to take,” Voriel replied, “as I know my power alone is not.”
He mulled over everything Voriel had said for several seconds, still rubbing the scaled palm of his right hand.
Maybe I am approaching this all wrong. I still mourn those I have lost, but that should not stop me from cherishing those we have saved. Or keep me from aiding the cries for help. Voriel still has faith in me, even if I do not have any in myself . . .
Being able to save those he cared about, having the power to protect them from the evils of the night, and the courage to stand his ground . . . that was who he wanted to be.
Rahsaan’s expression took on a firm determined smile, taking hold of Voriel’s hand only to let out a gasp of surprise as the angel pulled him up into an embrace.
“I am so very proud of you, Rahsaan.” Voriel said, “You have come so far from the streets of Nova Vaasa. Know I see that even if you cannot.”
                                           

A moment later, Rahsaan stepped back from the embrace, wiping a tear from his eyes. “Thank you, Voriel. I will tell the others what you have shared with me. That way they will not jump on you when you appear to them again.”
Voriel bowed to dismiss him, and just after the aasimar disappeared from his presence he breathed a sigh of relief.
There, I held myself. Now I just need to do that for . . . however long Rahsaan will live. He paused, He isn’t immoral, is he?
That was enough of that subject. He had other matters that needed attention. The angel reached into the mist, withdrawing his blade from the air.
“Mahlajai.” He called, studying the hilt, “Was there any particular reason you curtailed our wizard's study of this sword?”

The Djinn formed from the swirling mists looking deep in thought, his skin color and tone already starting to return to it’s bluish hue. He turned to face the angel and said almost nonchalantly, “I had to uphold my oath. I can’t knowingly let her kill herself without at the minimum warning her of her imminent demise, I swore to aid her.”

He gestured to the weapon, “Any of them can pick up and swing the blade around- ...maybe, or maybe just touching it could kill them. I’m not sure. What I do know for certain is you asked the wizard to tell you everything about that item...” He leans in to emphasize the point, “EVERYTHING.”

Mahlajai looked at Voriel again and continued, “She would certainly learn any magical properties it had, but more importantly the weapon was made in the heavens. It has the name of its owner, wrapped within the blade. The full name...written in the language spoken at the founding moment of creation. Certain information like that mortal minds weren’t meant to know and aren’t capable of holding. Her head could have exploded. Literally.”

He looked away, “That’s why I thought her studying the fullness of the blade was...unwise.”

The djinn blinked. “Did you mean what you said? Do you really think Rahsaan is the best means of besting Strahd?”

Voriel seemed he was going to make some remark about the explosivity of mortals, but the question caught him off guard. “Ah, you heard all that.”

He looked from the blade to the genie,  “Yes, I did. Now it is up to you and he to believe me, but my power alone is not enough to stop Strahd. As if my failure dealing with Vizer Ghornus wasn’t enough of a reminder, Alerion’s corruption certainly was.”

He scratched his neck in thought, “I don’t know if it was Strahd or something else,  but I think whatever it was bet I would jump on the chance to seize my mortal form without regard for Rahsaan. He didn’t abandon me when he was tempted, so the next logical practice would be to try and coax me to destroy him.”

He frowned, “And it would be a lie to say I was not tempted. But I know my old self, the Voriel who foolishly descended into hell alone thinking my power was enough. I will not make that mistake again. My promise to Rahsaan will endure, and he will reach his full potential.”

He looked back to the sword, “Though that doesn’t mean he can’t have some help. One of the problems is I don’t think he can actually wield this weapon because he doesn’t have the physical strength. My old body feasted on the spoils from the Beastlands while also meditating within the divine power of the Astral plane. Rahsaan had to be eat book binds for a winter.”

He then raised an eyebrow at Mahlajai, “You are immortal. Are you able to handle what this sword knows?”

The djinn considered the question for a long time. His reply was short, “Could I? Yes.” But there was more in what the blue skinned man wasn’t saying.

He sighed and turned away from the angel. “Knowing something is dangerous. Knowledge is power and power can corrupt. The reason I left the Temple of E’lahzad was because me staying there ran the risk of unleashing nightmarish forms of evil being loosed upon the land all in pursuit of power. If the temple itself were a lock, I would be the key.”

Mal looked back over his shoulder, “Having the information that is within your blade at my disposal in addition to what I already know and am potentially capable of is not something wise, because while I might seek to use my newfound strength for noble purposes, Strahd rules this domain. He has power. His land, his rules. There would be nothing to stop him from twisting me to his own desire, and even now I don’t know how much of a chance we have at stopping him....again I’m not downplaying our motley band of adventurers efforts. Every blow they land weakens his control however slight and they have landed several recently. But at present- me fighting with your blade is more dangerous than you just keeping it.”

He shakes his head, “...and I’m not technically immortal just longer lived than most. My people are with enough time able to be worth notice by immortal beings. I have served for one or two and in the process my aging was delayed as a by product of being in their presence, which was how I came to know you. But we still eventually run out of time. I’d like to think after I am gone the cycle begins anew, like a form of reincarnation but I don’t know for certain.”

Mahlajai looks up, “Which I guess is where I’m at. I’m ready to die if needed, but I’d prefer it not be needed for awhile. I’m not convinced that Rahsaan is the one to be placing our hopes in. I’m not saying he’s useless, but of the two of you-You have the more proven track record of going toe to toe with evil and coming out in one piece.”

“How can Rahsaan prove himself if I don’t let him? I didn’t even let him get a chance to strike at the dragon, Alerion, Mama lasagne, werewolves, or that other fiend the hags summoned. If I don’t let him fight his own battles, than yes I do look rather magnificent by comparison. I have one mode during a fight: fly in and rain down righteous judgement. Call it self- preservation, but Rahsaan has come up with ways to fight that don’t evolve just killing. This is the potential I am afraid we are squandering.”

He frowned, “Your fears regarding knowledge are founded. But I’m still a little confused regarding my own weapon.”

He withdrew the angels cry from where it was stowed on his back. Salt water dripped from its rusted point.
“I thought reclaiming my sword would empower me further. I’ve had it since I was formed so I didn’t really really think of it as a weapon, more of an extension of myself. Alerion’s weapon has an obvious effect, but outside of reclaiming my memory- which I think I was better off not knowing- I don’t feel any different.”

He looked back to his sword, “The reason I wanted you or Lyn to analyze this was because I thought maybe it’s power is still locked away. As I forgot my name and therefore my purpose, I think it might be the same case with The Light’s Resolve. How long has it been since it has struck down an enemy of the heavens?”

“Or worse, this is more of Strahd’s handiwork.”

The djinn gave the angel a pointed look. “How many agents and servants of darkness deserve anything aside from death? Rahsaan strapping up and knuckling down sounds great but the creatures in service to Strahd don’t even want to resist. Him having means of fighting that don’t involve killing is nice but we aren’t trying to play nice. You said yourself-Strahd must be destroyed. The kiddie gloves came off when Strahd started having witches bake children into cookies and fed them to the population. It sounds less to me like you are wanting Rahsaan to be able to shine, and more you just doubting yourself and your ability to send Strahd to hell.”

“In response to your concerns about your weapon and not feeling any different, maybe the reason you feel unchanged is because you don’t want to accept the parts of you you’d forgotten. As for the last time it was used, there’s no way to know, but I think—well I hope at any rate, that Strahd can’t create weapons like that. I’d rather hope that ability lies beyond his skills...”

At the djinn’s remark about his ability to strike down Strahd, Voriel’s eyes locked with Mahlajai’s, a mixture of both anger and disbelief. Without a word he suddenly appeared directly in front of his visitor, striking him in the forward with his open palm with reflex faster than any mortal. The blow yielded no pain, instead a scene unfolded before the smaller spirit. He saw the  familiar burning wreckage of a house he had been trapped in for many years. The party were catching their breaths from their ordeal standing about, except Rahsaan who had a look of realization and called out,
“Piddlywick! Where did you go?”
He started to shove aside splintered particle board and torn curtains but stopped as he heard a soft cough just beside him. He looked to see the puppet in his pants pocket, sputtering from soot in his mouth and his hat still smoking.
“Ah, there you are.” Rahsaan said, picking him up and batting out the flame, “I hoped we had not lost you back there in our rush to escape.”
Piddlywick shook his head and said with a grin, “Oh no. It’s going to take more than that to get rid of me.”
Rahsaan smiled back and said,”Piddlywick, I wanted to thank you,” the smile faded, “and apologize. When we arrived at the basement, Voriel thought you had led us into a trap set by the cult. But I know you were trying to help us.”
He looked back to the ruins, “And you cannot stay here so maybe you can stay with us?”
Piddlywick gave a toothy grin, “Oh yeah! I’m gonna help everyway I can! You all are never gonna get rid of me!” He tried to spit, making a series of strange noises from his wooden mouth, before Rahsaan cleared his throat and spit to his side on the puppet’s behalf.
Mist flooded the vision, before it cleared to show Voriel standing before him with a slight cringe of embarrassment,
“If I had my way, Rahsaan would have destroyed you- or at least tried to- back when we first met. Either way, we would not have this friendship.”
He then sighed, “There is still much to be done before we directly face Strahd. Here, if I just try to strike down everything I think is evil or offends me, we could lose potential allies or friends. That is where I believe Rahsaan’s purpose lies.”

With that he turned back to the sword,”Alright, so I admit I do not have all the answers, and that charging blind despite good intentions is unwise. What else do you want me to confess?”

The djinn just shook his head in response to the rush of memory. “Making allies is good when possible, and highly encouraged. Rahsaan is admirable for still having the ability to stay positive....but good wishes and pleasant thoughts don’t do much when the friendly neighborhood skeleton army comes marching through and stabbing people left and right.”

“Rahsaan has skills in key areas, that’s not up for debate. But I think you deciding that you need to take a backseat role and let Rahsaan be the one making all decisions going forward has just as much chance of getting him and us killed as just marching directly up to Castle Ravenloft’s gates. You two are joined. A pair. Each of you acting without the other weakens both...and in cases where things come to blows- you are better suited to fill that role.”

The djinn shrugged. “If the sword still feels weird I’ve also heard tales of powerful weapons feeling the need for the wielder to win their loyalty, especially if they’ve been discarded or misused.”

It was Voriel’s turn to shake his head, “You misunderstand, Mahlajai. I am not saying that Rahsaan should make all the decisions and I should stay out of his life. Far from it. But a general may be a better fighter than his men, may have more battle prowess and experience. But that does not mean they fight battles for their men. They lead by their experience and their wisdom. This is done in the hopes that the ones they lead may not just follow, but one day have their own armies that look up to them.”

He sighed, “I haven’t let Rahsaan handle that responsibility. I just took over and fought on his behalf. If I intercede, that just sends the message he can’t handle it. If he doesn’t learn his own lessons l, than I understand how he felt he was just getting in the way.”

He clenched his fist, and unclenches, “Imagine a Rahsaan who had my abilities but also the humility to know when to use them without burning the world down, able to show mercy. That is the potential I see in him.”

He stared at his reflection in the sword. “It is one thing to know my name. It is another to deserve to be called by it.”

Without turning his head , he looked back to Mahlajai, “So, how can we get Rahsaan to fly on his own?”

Mal sighed. “It’s not some petty street thugs or school bullies. Hell even armored guards would be more of a fair fight for Rahsaan. The enemies we are going toe to toe with now are in the big leagues. Archmages, Dragons, Vampire lords....I understand your desire to want the best for him but you’re a tried and true warrior of the heavens. You were created in no small part to fight darkness. You want Rahsaan to be able to reach his maximum potential-great, if we are lucky and best Strahd somehow, Rahsaan’s skill set and abilities would be perfect to lead a formerly hopeless nation into the light....but getting to that point is going to require your skills and strength more.”

“The idea of a general leading an army from the rear might sound good in theory but in practice seldom leads to victory. Too much mistrust forms from those actively fighting and spilling blood and the higher up whose sitting on a fluffy cushion far from battle. Mistrust is all it takes for something like Strahd to interfere. You want the others to trust you, but you stop fighting and getting yourself bloodied. First thought going through their heads is why am I risking everything and someone else isn’t. This leads to suspicion and then disunity and then defeat. To win a war-leaders need to be the ones at the front, leading the charge carrying the banner. Do they always make the best choices? No. But their men are loyal because they know they won’t be asked to do anything their leader wouldn’t or isn’t willing to do. Camaraderie is not something to sneer at. I mean look at you-you ignored orders just to save one of your brothers...and I’d be willing to bet in your quest to reclaim one battle brother, you singlehandedly took down scores of fighters. That’s loyalty. I’d settle for a loyal group of 10 men over an army of thousands any day.”

The djinn clears his head of thoughts of war and says, “Well if you launched him out of a catapult he’d fly pretty far unaided. Alternatively if he jumped from a really steep cliff he’d fly a way’s briefly. But if you’re wanting him to have repeat performances I’d recommend Eylylyn cooking up a potion or something. Best I could do is just get him a helpful push upwards. Why?”

Voriel let out a laugh, “Oh I meant figuratively letting him fly solo. Then he can fight his own battles and only against a foe worthy of celestial judgment would I.  .  .”

He paused, “Actually, that’s a good point. Sure my strikes have more power behind them, but flying is something I can do he can’t, forcing a reliance. Jumping high doesn’t quite cut it. Your suggestions are welcome but that still isn’t him doing it himself, he would just rely on others instead of me. Or a high place or war machine.”

Seemingly getting another idea, he withdrew the angel’s cry. “I know you just said learning everything about a celestial is dangerous, but Alerion is dead for now. It will probably take 500 years for his spirit to reform and another 500 for his body. That should give him some time to think about what he’s done. And his name can’t  exactly be misused, can it?”  

He held out the spear to Mahlajai, “We don’t need to know everything about the spear. But if we could find a way to  gift Rahsaan with even a little bit more of  the celestial essence that lies within this weapon, I think that would go a long way. Especially if we fight more than one demon or mage a day.”

Mal considered the first question for a moment, “Anything can be misused. Names are no different. I’d hazard a guess and say if enough people started thinking the goddess Sir Mercurion served was a deity of war, mistakenly or not, if they started crying out in unison for her to slay their enemies-her very nature could be altered. I don’t intend to frighten you but it’s entirely possible that if you’re ever killed and your foe learned your true name, when you reformed- you yourself could be altered to potentially even serve at your foes command.” He gives a sad smile, “I mean take creation for example-the power of creation is potent, and even Gods get tired...but they can cheat. Why bother making a new angelic servitor or warrior when they could much more easily just reprogram an existing fighter?”

The djinn nods, “So...yes. Even in ‘death’ the ‘angels’ name is dangerous.”

Mahlajai looks at the weapon being offered closely for a few moments but doesn’t touch it. He squints his black eyes and holds his tongue to the side as he tilts his head and walks in a circle. He then stops walking and turns to Voriel. “I think there’s something he might find handy.” Mal looks back to the spear. And then back to Voriel and says with a straight face “...provided his brains don’t start pouring out his ears he’d likely be kinda okay...mostly. Maybe.”

“Oh you needn’t worry about scaring me. I am quite familiar with changing aspects.”

His began to reminisce, “Uriel made it a point to destroy any mortals who tried to worship him. Now that doesn’t mean he would smite anyone who made a quick prayer to him. But he would kill those who tried to build shrines or temples dedicated to him,  and those who claimed to receive their power from him. It was because he wasn’t a god, and did not want to get involved in their power struggles and hierarchy. He thought that would just interfere with his duty to help those in need. To ensure his aspect did not change, he did everything in his power to prevent mortal adoration. And given how powerful he is, he was very effective at doing just that.”

He then let out a small laugh, “Am I that transparent, Mahlajai? I wanted to learn Alerion’s true name to I could make sure he would return to the light. Maybe even allow him to reform sooner .  .  .”

Regarding Rahsaan, Voriel seemed to perk up but then hesitated, “Eh, ‘mostly okay’? What exactly might it do to me?” He shook his head, “No, him.”

The djinn gave a long look at the weapon as he said, “Well, seeing as how it wasn’t intended to be used for mortal hands or minds-the effect it has on Rahsaan will largely depend on him. How well he is able to process or handle information. On the light side if he’s really lucky he might just walk away a little light headed and feel tingly sensations, maybe some blood loss or mild insanity. On the other end, if he doesn’t just die he runs the chance of becoming completely catatonic or possibly losing all sense of personality. Or something worse.”

Mahlajai looked back to Voriel. “It’s a gamble though. There’s no way to know unless you try it.”

This is what you wanted, isn't it? A voice said in the back of Voriel's mind. Either Rahsaan wields the weapon and makes a grand stride towards his potential, or he proves himself unworthy and kills himself, allowing you to take back your mortal form. Either way, you win.

The angel had a clear look of distress on his face, "No, this is not my decision. It has to be his- maybe we can just stress how dangerous it is so Lyn can just hide the weapon away for now. Maybe toss it into a inter-dimensional portal so he isn't tempted at all. There is no need to rush into . . ."

"But what powers would I get?" A third- though familiar- voice said. Rahsaan's form stepped out from the swirling mist, looking between the two spirits. "Sorry. Yes I was eavesdropping but Voriel was not asking. So this sword- would it make me courageous? Stronger? Be able to summon a catapult out of the air?" The rushed tone indicated his was excited.  

Voriel didn't reply immediately, but Mahlajai heard in his head, "I . . . thought he left earlier. Now I can just send him  back and then we can pretend I did it on accident."

The djinn looked between the two and then back to the weapon.
In response to the telepathic message he just says, “it’s better he hears it. No secrets.”

Mahlajai then looks to Rahsaan, “IF you survive, you will likely have some mental or physical deficiency or both. Your body was simply not intended for this. In exchange for this you have the chance of gaining divine awareness. Essentially nobody would be able to surprise you or anyone you travel with even if you were sleeping, but more importantly you’d always know which way was up....or North. I’m not sure which is more practical to you. With practice you might be able to even peer through solid objects to some degree. Whether or not you feel these things would inspire you to develop newfound reserves of courage or something else I could not say. But I stress to you-this is dangerous, and has the extreme likelihood of you ending in a blubbering pile of goo and madness.”

He looks between both parties, “The choice is yours.”

Rahsaan gave a frown of confusion as the djinn explained, "I do not understand. I thought I am Voriel's body. Why could he- I- not handle it?"

It was Voriel's turn to speak, "Because an angel's body is normally formed out of the material of the heavens, not cursed realms such as this one. Even I am not certain how it happened. You still carry a spark of the divine within you which prevents you from probably just dying outright, but neither of us have encountered anything like this. Sure, your much frailer mortal portion might hold itself together, but we cannot say for certain what effect it will have. So, as your guide I would say it is best to forget this was ever on the table, because it's not. How about you . . ."

Rahsaan held up a hand to silence the angel, "Voriel, I am not going to let others suffer because I am not strong enough. What if something does try and ambush us, or we are lost somewhere underground, needing to know where to go?"

"Just don't go spelunking?"  Voriel suggested. "Also, Eylylyn and Mercurion can teleport! There's no way they would just let you all . . ."

"They can go where they can see. You said yourself I was supposed to be a torchbearer- how can I light they way for others if I do not know where I am going?"

Not addressing either one in particular, Rahsaan said, "So what do I need to do?"

Mahlajai turns to Voriel, “You said you wanted this to be his decision. He has a basic understanding of the risks...”

The djinn looks back to Rahsaan, “You should also be aware-the effects are likely to be permanent. Eylylyn is a skilled wizard but there are extremely few spells I know of that can undue the workings of celestials and they are not easily come by....or without their own price; but to answer your question, when you are ready, simply grip the weapon and speak your name.”

Mal turns to Voriel as he backs away, “Im stepping away. I have no idea what is going to happen to him. You might want to do the same.”

Rahsaan stepped toward Voriel as the angel took a step back instinctively, holding the blade in both hands. The young man scowled, "Come now, Voriel. Now you are the fearful one?"

Voriel sighed, "Rahsaan, you don't have to prove anything to me. I understand you want to help the others, but know that they wouldn't ask this of you. Nor do they think ill of you. Being brave is not about throwing yourself into risks just to see if you survive. Tell you what- let's hold off on this for now. Once we ensure you won't liquefy, then we can decide if we need you to peer through walls. How about that?"

Rahsaan sighed, and crossed his arms. "Fine."

Before the angel could say anything, the young man said, "Okay, I am sure." Faster than even Voriel was ready for, Rahsaan rushed forward and grabbed hold of the handle- though he instead wrapped his hands around the angel's, unable to grasp the hilt. Voriel's expression filled with an anger normally reserved for when he was tearing apart fiends, gritting his teeth before he called out, "You are dismissed."

Rahsaan could feel as if he was beginning to fall, as if pushed from a large cliff. With a cry he instead grabbed hold of the blade itself, wincing only briefly as his own blood flowed down the sword.
"Rahsaan!" He called out, though his voice was pained, "He who bleeds for others!

Voriel gasped, "A True Name . . . you don't have . . ." Though he wasn't unable to finish the sentence before there was a great burst of light, throwing the Aasimar to the ground, who lay motionless except for silence mutterings. Voriel let go of the sword as his form disintegrated into mist, mingling with the malstrom that surrounded them.

A moment later, Rahsaan came to as the mist almost seemed to part before him, showing the Djinn had distanced himself several feet away from him, who still seemed to be facing the other direction. He picked himself and felt his head, gasping as he saw that the mist below him vanished as well, leaving him standing in grey void.

"Ezra, thank you for allowing my pupil to survive despite his brash behavior."  He heard a mixture of discordant tones echo from behind forming words he understood.

Wait, was that Voriel?

He turned around, taking in the full sight of the angel in his spiritual form no longer hiding in the mists.  He then proceeded to scream at the top of his lungs before passing out a minute later.

There was a sigh, "Ezra, please allow him to have a fast recovery."