“We now recognize Commander Unalord of the 91st Division, attached to 19th Army,” Marshal Agrehn declared as he stood to Emperor Rohmhelt’s left. Evinda had recommended to Rohmhelt that the army should be given the veneer of a victory, even if Rohmhelt had difficulty accepting the battle’s muddled outcome. She took great pride in the fact that Agrehn had seconded the notion. Agrehn managed to demonstrate that enthusiasm throughout the entire afternoon with each announcement as forceful as the one before it.

Absent a throne room in the army’s campgrounds, the entire ceremony was understated, which Evinda felt would help endear Rohmhelt to the army. He had no objection to being seated atop a simple chair on a mostly open grassy field. Aside from Agrehn, Lohs, and Evinda, there was no court in attendance, either. This, too, pleased him. What Evinda knew he objected to fiercely was treating the battle as a victory. The ceremony could have been as opulent or diminished as anyone pleased if it had been a clear triumph. As it was, however, she noted that he periodically grumbled every few minutes, usually at the rotation in units or commanders being honored.

Just before Unalord stepped forward to present himself to his emperor, Rohmhelt tilted his head toward Evinda to whisper, “This one helped save the central bridge. Lost two-thousand one-hundred men.”

Evinda faintly acknowledged her husband’s almost despondent recounting of the battle’s brutality. Her own view was that his glumness about the battle’s result stemmed from his guilt that he had somehow disappointed his father. She had told him numerous times in a single day, “Your father would have told you that your mission was to hold Methrangia. You held it.” Of course, as she had found before, when he entered such moods he would always find another avenue for self-flagellation. “I fought that battle like father would’ve. I lost my temper and ordered a full attack, so, yes, that’s what father would’ve done.”

She smiled and laughed whenever he fell into one of his unnecessarily dark moods and just after the Battle of the Nehal River was no exception. Evinda was pleased that he had at least consented to attending the ceremony on behalf of those with courageous acts during the battle. He had done so with some distinction as well. He sat with near-perfect posture, a true kingly demeanor, at once both attentive and commanding. Nonetheless, it was plainly evident he had only a slight toleration for the ceremonies.

When Unalord stepped forward, Evinda was surprised at what an odd division commander he was. Short, skinny, and prematurely bald, he did not match the customary appearance often found with the division commanders. Most of them were wearily similar in stature and physique. Rohmhelt made clear why this odd man had been cited for special recognition.

“Commander Unalord, your 91st Division held off several charges of enemy cavalry and heavy infantry to give our men time to escape over the central bridge,” the Emperor declared. “Your men paid dearly for this, over two-thousand killed. You and your men, both living and slain, are owed our gratitude. For this, you are awarded the medal of the Guardians of Methrangia. Your men are also permitted two weeks furlough from the front to use as they see fit to rest and recover.”

Unalord, with a stiff and humorless face, bowed respectfully.

“I thank you, Your Imperial Majesty. My men and I, however, want to stay in the fight.”

“I appreciate your devotion, commander,” Rohmhelt said, nodding at Marshal Agrehn who responded with a light acknowledgement. “I have the utmost faith that your service will be commendable.”

The ceremony continued much in that manner until its very end when an old man, his daughter, and several soldiers, who appeared to at one time be wounded, but were now healed, stepped forward.

“Your Majesty, this is Cesord Etelet, mayor of the village of Gulnholn, and his daughter Lyfress, a priestess of Forynda,” Agrehn announced. Evinda remembered at once that she had met the two of them the very same day that word of Emperor Covifaht’s death arrived. “The men with them claim that they have seen the two of them perform great miracles in healing their wounds.”

“All gifts of the High Angel Forynda,” Cesord immediately followed. “And it is my daughter who truly understands this power. I have the clumsy hands and mind of an old man. I can’t hope to match what she has done.”

His daughter, Lyfress, appeared almost embarrassed by the praise, her eyes shifting down to the grassy field below.

“You mean to say that this was more than simply bandaging or stitching wounds?” Lohs, positioned behind Rohmhelt asked with a skeptical lilt.

“Yes, sir,” one of the men said. “There was an arrow near my heart and she closed its wound with glowing hands. I felt the High Angel’s power as she healed me. It’s the High Angel’s favor!”

The other men all nodded in agreement. Evinda knew not what to make of it until guards brought a wounded soldier from one of nearby hospital tents. The wound was relatively minor, a somewhat deep cut down the left arm. Lyfress gladly strode up to the man and laid her hands upon his wound.

The priestess closed her eyes and her hands began glowing in a warm white light. The wounded man winced slightly in pain, but then let out a gasp of relief just as the glowing stopped. Rohmhelt gasped and then smiled at the sight. Evinda turned to see Lohs’s eyes open wide. Marshal Agrehn had apparently accepted what he had been told of the matter at face value as he expressed not the slightest astonishment upon seeing the display. As for Evinda, she was overwhelmed by a feeling of affinity she had for the priestess and her father as they shared their power.

Rohmhelt rose from his chair and walked up to the soldier, who dropped to a knee. His Emperor commanded that he stand with a swift motion and took to inspecting the wound. Begging the soldier’s pardon, he poked at his arm to be sure that it was not some illusion.

“And you say that these were gifts from Forynda?” Rohmhelt asked.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Cesord replied in a wheezing voice. “I’ve spoken with others and it appears that she has allowed all who are faithful to her the ability to wield the Ceunan Aura. Nethron had no dominion over it and so it wasn’t his to give.”

So, it’s not entirely true to say she hasn’t intervened, Evinda mused. And yet it was to these two she decided to first gift her powers. Two humble servants. Not the great kings or even Matriarch Yldrina.

“I’m very grateful to you both for bringing this great gift to our army. Be sure to teach others, others who are faithful, this knowledge.”

“We will, Your Majesty,” Lyfress affirmed meekly.

When the ceremony concluded, Evinda could scarcely contain the feeling that she should speak with Lyfress and her father at once. Some remaining duties that day intervened, including receiving Chancellor Kivren to thank him for his men’s valiant performance in the battle. Even as she spoke with the boisterous Gadisian Chancellor, her mind was fixated utterly on what she had seen from Lyfress. It drove her to distraction, even to the point of forgetting what she meant to say as words of gratitude to the Gadisians for fighting so far from their homeland on behalf of Emperor Rohmhelt.

Once her official duties were concluded and Rohmhelt departed for a lengthy discussion with Marshal Agrehn and the army’s other top commanders, she asked to be taken to Lyfress and her father late that evening. Theirs was a tent on the camp’s periphery, close to a nearby patch of forest. When Evinda arrived with the two Solnahtern at her side, neither Lyfress nor her father were at the tent. However, Evinda saw a light within the forest that appeared to be something very different from a torch light. Following it, she found a tight grove where Lyfress and Cesord were teaching their powers to some dozens of eager would-be acolytes.

All those gathered looked upon Evinda with surprise and immediately took to kneeling along with a chorus of “Your Majesty.”

“My husband doesn’t want you kneeling and I don’t, either,” she said. Silence followed with the sporadic glance up from those kneeling. “Please, rise. Be as you were.”

Even after they complied, she saw that they all had varying looks of confusion on their faces, Lyfress and Cesord included.

“I’m not here to interrupt you. I’m here to learn from you,” Evinda said, breaking the oppressive silence. “Teach me to serve Forynda as you have.”