A tune of intention

Several days, according to the reckoning of this world, have passed since alert after the incident. I am no stranger to periods of inaction, but being surrounded by so much movement and quickness aggressively tests the fortitude of what I managed to grow back in the shadows of my former home. Every length of my awareness wants to access the energy and restore the balance lost, but I know if I were to do so, I would lose consciousness and become no better than the rank-and-file beasts of my lesser allies who give in to such impulses. I left that life behind, and I have no intent on returning.
 
Considering the means with how I can weave the course of the energy that tempts me, I have the means to supply to a veritable army should the occasion require it.
 
A first step then is to try and extend my reach.
 
I can start small for now, a bit of trouble for the people that harry me, draw a few of those content to be commanded by their hunger for aether. Like a moth to a flame, according to this world's vernacular.
 
I am establishing a regency in this land though it is from the hidden corners where I may plan in peace. Those who hunger serve, but I seek a means by which more like me can regain their sense of self.
 
I left the shadows behind, and I'm not going back.