Only Velentham's father knew the true reason they were on this small plane. And the truth of the matter was that Velentham was a trouble maker. Young in the terms of Celestials, his soul was new, unused to the ways of their kind. Rather than being gracious, Velentham was hot-headed and quick to action. While it helped when eradicating evil, it was a bane when dealing with matters of average celestial life. Velentham tended to want everything, and what he wanted, he would not cease until he obtained. Telfenham knew this and created a plane to take his son. When Velentham grew too rash or impulsive, the faraway slice of Elysium removed him from other Celestials and kept him from getting himself in predicaments. Telfenham could save face, Velentham could mature without incident. This, however, was the worst thing Velentham's father could have imagined.
Velentham slipped through space and arrived at Gilean's side. The man was meditating by the waterfall pond - it was all Velentham could do not to kick him into the water and drown him. Velentham stood straighter and looked down his nose at Gilean. "Get up. We need to speak."
"Have you come to torment me further?"
"If you would like, I can manage that too. But no. We need to speak and unless you want to be on the level of a dog, I suggest you get up."
"What would you like to speak of? Have you decided to send me back?"
"How did you get the rose?"
"I went to Sanria and asked her to borrow it. Might I ask... how did she get the rose?"
"Why would she give it to you... she had to have known. All she had to do was look at it."
"We made a promise, that if she chose to return we would bring her back. Why this... subterfuge?"
"Yes - it seemed so much like she was going to be permitted to come back. That be-armored fool seemed bent on doing damage. No, I offered her a way back without needing any of you." Velentham sneered.
"No, you circumvented the agreement. You know that rose would exert some of the same pull of this place. You should have seen how reluctant she was to part with it, not even knowing any of it's purpose."
"She wanted to stay here. I wanted her to stay."
"Yes, but how much of that was her will, and how much was this place and your influence? That's not love Velentham. Love is what I have, what I was ripped from by your trinket."
Velentham barely kept his ire in check. He knew he should be better able to control his emotions. He should be more like his father, but he seemed always on the edge. He had to get Gilean to agree to his plan, though anger swam visibly beneath his expressions, hidden far deeper was absolute desperation. He had never been deprived of anything he'd wanted. Ever. "Listen... I came here to offer you a deal. A - trade - of sorts."
Gilean's face melted into a look of suspicion, but there also rode a tide of hope. "A trade..." This is exactly what Velentham had hoped for.
