Azepael flicked his blade to the side before taking it back to its leather scabbard on his back. The battle-field was nothing more than a silent graveyard of charred flesh, save for the moans of those not quite dead. He turned to make his way back to his Lord, though he did not know if he could even call him that anymore. The situation had greatly changed; although he was reassigned to this supposed Lord Xalelm, the one who had given him orders was way out of contact, along with his troops that accompanied him. He didn't know where these soldiers went, or even if they were still alive.
Azepael was troubled about greater things at the time being, though. That strange voice, whatever it was, summoned him back from the land of the dead. He was sure about that much, but didn't know who or what it was. It had a familiar ring to it, but did not stir any past memories that rung any bells.
He rubbed his temples, slowly. I might as well focus on getting Lord Xalelm back to the council, for the time being. Those are my original orders, after all.
Corvus had a strange expression on his face; like he was there but not totally conscious at the same time. An expression of concentration, but emptiness. After a moment later, he could feel it as well; there was another out here, not too far from the battle that had just taken place. Whoever or whatever it was, Corvus was communicated with it. Azepael had been training for the day he would have to open his thoughts, but never expected to put it to use.
He resolved to sit quietly for the time being, just to listen.