Many of their kind had been lost between the stars, drifting off in fascination at the endless void of space, lost forevermore to the wonders of the paths of light. More, still, had found their Hierarch hosts incapable of containing their form and their power. Those were left behind, dead and burned and no more than husks, dying in a gout of fire so hot that it destroyed the vessel, the Elethyn's soul, even the armour itself before the blasts reached out further still and destroyed swathes of countryside, or whatever village or city happened to be nearby. As the Elethyn tore their way to the north, their numbers lessened...but those that remained became stronger, still. Enough remained. They stayed together yet, while they became accustomed to their new forms. Lesser forms, not as versatile as their own bodies, but bodies were nothing.
