The Blessed War

12

The BODS had many structures put in place to adorn their pocket world. Some were accommodation and living spaces; some were sculptures that honoured Tybriel and note-worthy Monks and Priestesses; some were museums filled with relics and exhibits that highlighted history; some were facilities dedicated to expanding the collective knowledge of magic, the Divine realms and the mortal universe housing their Sanctum.
One such facility was oriented to the Enchantment of psycho-projection. Not many Scholars used the technique, fewer still worked at the facility, but this was likely due to the line of work of a Scholar at the facility. Those who worked there projected their consciousness beyond the sleeping Portaciel, the portal suspended in the skies of the Sanctum that originally brought the BODS there. It no longer acted as a portal for physical bodies, but projected bodies were allowed to see the world beyond it.
And there was so much to see.

Only angels had the ability to project an astral body outside of their body, but astral projection wasn't ideal anyway; the whole point of projecting to the other side of the portal was to invisibly observe what was going on between the other Divine realms. This was an order of the Grand Advisor himself, so anyone willing to facilitate their powers of psycho-projection for this stepped forward and employed themselves at this facility. There weren't many, though the goal was satisfied.
Unicorns, fairies and angels alike worked at the facility, seeing with invisible consciousness how the Blessed War unfolded. As with every war to ever exist, no one truly had the upper hand over other warring parties.
Veronde, known as a recluse by many, was a fairy who spent most of his time in this facility. His psycho-projection wasn't his most developed skill, yet he seemed the most dedicated to the cause of seeing into the Divine realms. His accounts were always vivid and unwavering, unlike others who often had a 50% chance of failing to see anything concrete beyond Portaciel. He was a definite asset to the facility. He enjoyed that.
In fact, his most recent account revealed much about the Angelic Council back in their realm.

"Flaxiel, he's entering the Citadel's grounds. His left wing is injured, he curses out a unicorn's name, Gezna? He's conjuring up some lightning magic, it releases a brief shockwave as it teleports him indoors. ...
"He appears back in the retired infirmary where Scaltiel lies. The paralysis seems weaker, I can hear breaths. His body is decaying, I think.. he's dying. One of his eyes opens up a crack, Flaxiel steps forward, grumbling dissent, a bolt of magic weaving around a forearm. Scaltiel's breaths heave, he's worried. The bolt of energy discharges and strikes the middle of Scaltiel's forehead, silently zapping through the air. Scaltiel's eyes close, his breath stops...
"Flaxiel says 'Back to sleep, Scal, you have work to do.' And there's the cliche evil laugh."

"HhhhhhHHH," went that familiar gasp of breath when Veronde's consciousness returned to his body. Only after relaying it was he able to process the information with his own mind. The journaling angel who noted all that he was saying looked aghast. In a former life, Scaltiel and Flaxiel were her friends.
"... I'm guessing you did catch all of that then, Deuriel." Veronde stated. With that, he fluttered his natural, Fairy-size body through the doorway. Presumably he'd go to refresh in a nearby spring or in the radiance of the Heart. Deuriel, on the other hand, was eager to report to Tybriel.