Golden wings snapped involuntarily at the rage that welled up inside the playful Messenger. Gone was the easygoing manner and in its place was the Third Prince who had once faced off against the Leviathan after the birth of the first flock of fledglings. Nisroc stood before him, hands tucked slightly in the top folds of the sash that was wrapped around his waist, thumbs hooked in the leather belt that held the sheath to his sword.

"How long has this been kept silent?"

"At least a couple weeks."

Gabriel nodded once, it was a harsh nod, he was not happy that this news had been kept from him. But he was even more upset at himself, he should have seen the signs, noticed sooner. Zaveriel was an energetic youngster, one of the few who could nearly keep up with he himself, and there had been a change in him these last few weeks. And he had scolded their fledgling pretty severely for interrupting the work and tripping the others up in the aerie after that one day. She had very nearly let it slip but had caught herself, he saw the way she had yearned to say something when he'd finished, but only nodded in understanding and slinked off to hide away in his brothers room.

He had thought that it was only to mope at being scolded for something like he had scolded her for the mess at the aerie.

"Who harmed him?"

"They will be handled appropriately."

"Nisroc that was not the question."

"It is the answer I am willing to give."

The Messenger stared at the Power for a moment, surprised at his blatant refusal to divulge such information, but Nisroc remained unmoved. He was tough, he seen a lot during the war, had done a number of things that he regretted, and thus was not an easy cookie to break.

Gabriel respected that.

"I thank you for informing me of this.", the Messenger nodded to the Chief Power, "If you'll excuse me, I have one of my flock to tend to."

Nisroc nodded and stepped to the side to allow him to pass, following behind him, and shut the door at his leave once the Messenger had thanked him again before turning wing to see to his Second in Command.

He watched until he disappeared before turning back to the direction of the training fields. He stepped over the last step and nodded in Titus' direction, and he immediately turned their little warrior around, the others stepping up quickly to distract her from the next happenings.

Though for how long was the question of the moment.

Nisroc stopped one of the older cadets and took his sword from him. A quick reassurance that he was not in any trouble and he gave him the soft order to instead take to hand to hand for the time being. There was no need to be strict with those who had not deserved it. He was not a cruel commander.

He stepped through the classes, making his way to where the newest recruits were going over position and placement with Raguel, the Power saluted his Chief quickly and let him take over. He had seen the look in his eye and knew that something had to have happen.

"Rest for a moment", Nisroc's voice halted the little things, it was unheard of for the Chief Power to come see the younglings or stop them from their practices, it was mainly Raguel and Titus who taught the youngest ones. The older classes paused and turned at the dark tone from the Power, Nisroc paid none of them any mind, he even went so far as to ignore the inquiring gaze of his archangel on his back.

"Paul, step forward."

The blonde youngling stepped forward, a bit nervously, which was good. He deserved to be nervous, Nisroc was one who believed in reteaching their values and giving most a second chance to prove themselves, however even he had his limits.

Paul eyed him nervously, "S-Sir."

Nisroc stared down at him from over his nose, fingers tightening around the hilt of his own sword, the soft giggling of their little warrior only strengthening his burning anger. She should not have to worry her tiny self with the welfare of friends.

"Did you or did you not attack a messenger unprovoked?"

"S-Sir! I ca—"

"It was a yes or no question."

"I…Yes…"

Nisroc breathed a harsh breath from his nose and turned a glare down on him instead in the next moment.

"I demoted you in hopes that it would deter you from such ways, though it seems I was wrong."

He tossed the sword he'd procured at the younglings feet and Paul looked down at it in fear.

"Pick it up.", Nisroc's fingers tightened once more on the hilt of his own, "You have the desire to prove you are stronger then other choirs? We all rely on one another to function."

He waved the others back, not seeming to mind the older angels that started gathering around them, all wanting to see what was about to happen. Paul shook slightly as he bent to pick up the sword from where it laid in the grass before him. A hand grabbed the wooden sword in his other and yanked it away, tossing it to Raguel behind him, and the Power drew his own sword.

"We will see where you stand in your training.", and dropped into a fighting position, "You will face me."