I watched all the hesitant executives scatter among the hasty migrants, who paused from their resettling pursuits, while Vorda officers assigned themselves to their designated Vorda Stone to monitor. For several minutes, my eyes scanned the bright skies overtaking the Shol Aurora's lights. Without question, a Shol Blackout brewed.

A Shol Blackout occurred whenever Shol energies on Eltreis exceeded the atmosphere's capable limit. That could have happened whenever a country full of people happened to use Shol all at once. It also could have happened when Vorda Stones, our Cymel-native and overused elements to deflect Shol, exceeded their extent to repel and became explosive, their impact depending on their size and intensity. As Shol powers connected users who shared their powers and attributes with others of their choosing, called Bonds, these Blackout explosions could have injured and even killed Shol users in short time as a chain reaction to their Bonds. And that's why it would have been so simple for the Shol Great Elders to kill those with Shol power; those with Bonds could have fallen victim to the chain. Only natural deaths formed seamless Breaks, allowing Shol users to break away from another person and inhibit their damage taken from Shol contact.

I remembered Joreph-El again, wondering how to find him. If he were serious about the Shol Elders' intentions, I should have been more insistent in pursuing him. Yet, a part of me wished to abandon it, to let it go in hope it was a fraudulent attention-grabber. Since I had high hopes for the High Commander giving the sound call, I planned to pursue him after this situation.

Robi banged a massive gong at the base of the Vorda Stone he stood by, waiting for returning gonging noises. Few passers checked out the unlikely event in bunches, chattering about. Non-executive Vorda Officers unaware of the situation stood in their posts, wiping at their cold noses.

Listening for more gongs following each other's echoes from afar, I glimpsed back at the Seson Border's shadow-casting eminence in contemplation of Doson's Shol research hogging the other side. For several years, the excessive amount of Shol energy produced in Doson impeded Cymel's efforts to protect its territory from Shol powers, let alone impeded planet Eltreis' protection in general. I returned my eyes to Robi, who reached up his Vorda Sword for the unreachable crest, which glowed brighter beyond its murky fogginess.

Shol energies distributed in the atmosphere, and the Vorda Stone's energy dampened the dormant power within me and others in the area. Tightening my being, light pressure claimed my clear sight, my distinct hearing for a moment. Hearing muffles of yet another Cymerian arguing with an Officer at the Border to visit a made-up family in Doson, I took my hands to my now aching head.

Emerging pressure heated the atmosphere and intensified the gravity. Bystanders' faces blurred in my failing sight. Shrieks and screams sounded suffocated, masking a frantic gong's bang from afar. Kraay! The Trau yelped at their stations in angst. My muscles gave out, letting me fall onto the chilled, tickling grass with its sandy floor puffing into my ear. Throbbing the pain persisted, and some others fell out around me. Some came to my aid, asking of my welfare, to which I could not respond.

Indeed, these were the signs of a Shol Blackout: dark energies intermingled in full force against large Vorda stones. Cyan light emerged from my skin and shifted violet, dissipating in the air. I performed a Break, focusing the consciousness left in me to lift weight off of my tense body, allowing me to sever my Bond with my father from afar, and kept it active to resist the pre-Blackout stage's repercussions.

Thankfully, the final hurried clash echoed, and the executives stabbed their Vorda Swords into a designated slot at the base of the stones to cancel any resistance against the Shol, carrying an ear-splitting confirmation of bursting violet lights all around them. A pulling force blasted wind onto us all. The shrills stopped. Cancelled, the dark energies failing to induce a Blackout vanished. Weakened Shol users in the frantic crowd recuperated, trying to pick themselves up with some help.

Robi held a hand to his ear. "Damn, that was close." Down from him scampered frightened citizens and travelers, and some Vorda Officers asked of his safety. He leapt down the mounted podium.

"Ma'am," a man's large hand pat my shoulder. "Ma'am."

"...I'm alright," I spoke, glancing among others huddled around me.

As the weight of the damaged power within me loosened on me over time, I grew stronger and managed to stand back up, dusting sand and grass flakes off of me. Before I went to meet with the rest of the executive Vorda Officers again, I checked on other citizens affected, hoping no serious injuries harmed them. It seemed the effects of the pre-Blackout did not intensify beyond dangerous levels, which Titaus noted later that may have been because of the higher levels of Shol energy in Doson. The Pure Season had some of the brightest Shol auroras too, after all. Whatever it was, I was grateful it did not get any worse than it was. I had already went through its full force once before then, and it scarred me.

"We'll speak about this more tomorrow," Robi wiped his face in the dark meeting room. Even several hours after the pre-Blackout incident, we knew what had to do.

"If he's still around, we need to notify him as soon as possible," I spoke. "After all, we already failed his order. Let's get the Divisional Commander on this, too."

"Hmhm," he chuckled. "Sure thing. Have a great night, Comm—" He cleared his throat. "Justice."

"You as well — all of you." I waved to the scattering group. "Peace and safety." I turned and left a bit too fast to hear all their individual salutations, quick to find myself on Ira's back again. Departing from the city, I recalled the meeting I had with the executives after the accident and how they planned to report the situation through a Nodus to the High Counsel. For sure, preparations from impending punishment occupied my mind. The King could have punished me for investigating divisional command as a legislator and lend jurisdiction over to the true High Commander, who was not me any more, for further situations on the Vorda Frontier. In this, I still could have submitted an indirect Nodus after all, and my plan to tighten Cymel-Seson's borders could have worked through that unexpected event.

To distract myself from my expected worries, I bought myself new sandals at a bazaar and a sweet snack for Ira, who managed her fear so well at her post for so long that day, despite how frightened she was when I retrieved her. She still flinched at a few of the street's nightly reveling and rowdiness, but I'm sure we were both glad the citizens no longer bombarded us.

Snug the new sandals hugged my tingling toes as we passed a homeless shelter, where some people sprawled out of the doors and their sleeping bags, and some groveled to Mitsen Tritausen idols.

"Justice," a familiar, smooth voice hastened beside. Alarmed, I almost yanked Ira's reins for a sharp stop and turned to find that Shol Tritausen's icy eyes glowing back. He leaned against the storefront shelter's rocky door frame, his ragged attire fitting in with the rest of homeless there. The many questions I suppressed since the first time we met intruded my thoughts. In fact, how coincidental it was that he would show up where I was at the right time!

"It's y-you again," I did my best to compose my apprehension. "Jerphel — I mean — Joreph-El." But my best wasn't enough, for he smirked.

"Please, just Jorel." Stepping down the walkway, he set his hands in his pockets. "I'm glad I found you again. If you're not too busy right now, I want to have a word with you... with pure honesty this time."

"I am honestly not busy," I blinked hard. And I honestly wanted to know the truth from the beginning, I added to myself.

"If you don't mind."

"Where would you like to talk?"

Still grinning, he beckoned me and went back for the shelter door, stepping over snoring sleepers lying in the way. I petted Ira, dismounting her, led her to a vacant spot at the shelter's front, then coiled her rein around a pillar that held a violet torch.

As expected, the Cymerian government wasn't the only keeping secrets.