A Greater Purpose

In his misted realm, Voriel’s gut churned as much as the mist that surrounded him. He still hadn’t shared too much yet of what Mahlajai had shown him about the Amber Temple. Not because he was afraid of worrying the group.In fact, he thought that Mercurian would want to smite everything within and Eylylyn would examine whatever they found until she died of excitement. No, what truly worried the angel . . .
Suddenly, the mist in the material plane thickened to envelop the group, occluding them from even the angel’s view. Snapping himself from his thoughts, he tried to see through Rahsaan’s eyes, only to find himself unable.
“Rahsaan!” He called, his worry rising each passing second the Aasimar did not reply. He tried to speak to the others, but still failed to reach them through the fog. Then he heard the noise of battle- sword clang against shield, venom spit from some sort of creature’s maw, tendon and flesh tear, pained cries from each member of the group. He could not see, he could not help- only imagine what horrors feasted upon them. The clouds finally parted to show the temple entrance, curiously with no signs of war. His pupil stumbled out from the darkness alone. He clutched a withered arm close to his chest, his left leg ending in a cauterized stump. Blood steamed down his face from an empty socket, not daring to turn back to face the entryway. Voriel’s words went unheard as Rahsaan collapsed to the ground several seconds later staring up to see a  Caliban stand over him with a cruel grin, a sword in its grasp.
“Voriel, please, save me!” Rahsaan cried, just before the sword thrust through his remaining eye, silencing the young man as his body fell with a wet thud. The scene before the angel seemed to freeze, Voriel unwilling to process what he witnessed as any semblance of truth.
“I’m sorry, Voriel. He simply isn't strong enough.” Voriel heard a voice say. Wait, was that . . . Uriel’s?  
“I know you want the best for Rahsaan, but the evil that awaits in that temple is just too much for any mortal to handle. If you let them enter, you will have sentenced them to death.”
Voriel let out a grunt as he tried to peer past the façade again to make sure nothing threatened his friends now. The voice of his former master continued, “As hard as it is to accept, Rahsaan is already dead. They have descended into the temple’s maw. Avoid needless bloodshed, save the others before it is too late. Take back what is yours, and be restored to your majesty.”
The mist withdrew from around Voriel. He was no longer trapped the ethereal realm, he was back on solid ground, standing amidst the others who were all in one piece.
And he was in his own mortal form. Not the gangly form of Rahsaan who was nowhere to be seen.  
He looked down at himself, wearing his silver armor while his sword radiated with its prior intensity within his powerful grasp. His touched his own face, etched with strong features instead of boyish fragility.
“Now, that’s some improvement! Maybe you’ll be a divine agent that won’t be such a blowhard. Maybe.” Eylylyn said.
“Now you might actually hold your own in a fight without just flying away.” Gohzrik said with a roll of his eyes.
Aspen fell on her knees, straining to hold back tears as she said. “I am sorry I ever doubted you! Please, can you find it in your divine, perfect nature to forgive me?”
“I’m sorry, what changed?” Mercurian said, lifting up his vizor and seemingly squinting past the angel.
Voriel just stood dumbstruck.
“Let go of him, Voriel. Rahsaan will have served his purpose by restoring your power. You can either accept that so you may go destroy Strahd- and return to me,” Uriel said, as the image of Rahsaan’s broken body reappeared in the angel’s mind, “or stay trapped in the mist forever.”
Voriel stared long and hard at the entrance to the temple. This was not the opening of the Amber Temple- it was the maw of Hell itself. He faced the same decision- descend into darkness to save those you care about, or heed his master’s call allowing him to be his perfect self.
I made this decision before. He said to himself, And it was the wrong one. But now, I know my mistake.
And I can avoid making it again.
“Before, I thought I knew better than my master.” He didn’t know if he spoke to himself or the disembodied voice of Uriel, “I thought I was strong enough, wise enough to overcome any obstacle if I believed I did it for the right reason. Hell proved me wrong, this domain proved me wrong. I need to live for something greater- not my own desires and what I think is right.”
The scenes before him faded ever slightly, allowing him to peer past them to see he was still in his ethereal prison.
“If I only do what I think is right, than I am just living for myself.”
Living for yourself- with nothing greater to fight for- is an empty existence.
It was time for him to listen to his own advice.
“I admit I do not know the correct answer to this choice. But that does not mean I cannot beseech someone who does, who has overcome the despair of this realm, who spreads hope and protects those at the mercy of evil!”  
And for the first time in eons.
Voriel prayed.
“Ezra, reveal to me your path! My crusades into hell will not be for my own vanity and desires, but your will if you ask it of me! I will not protect the weak so they come to bow at my feet, but that they see your grace through me!”
The mist that had been occluding the group withdrew, revealing everyone except the wizard standing before the temple with no harm done. Voriel heard something faint emanate from the temple- his name. Spoken to him as if a mother were trying to rouse their child from a nightmare.
“I hear you, Ezra.” Voriel replied, a grin in his voice, “I’m coming.”