If there was a gate, that meant someone else would be coming through it. Of course the Akura family wouldn't simply give them an opportunity; they had to make it into a competition.

The trees were difficult to see in the gloom, and upon further investigation, he could see that their leaves were black with faint lines of pulsing light running through them like veins. The bark was dark gray.

They reminded him of the trees in the Desolate Wilds, though those plants had been corrupted by some disease. These didn't feel unhealthy; they radiated a sense of life, like any other trees, but somehow muted. As though he hadn't entirely shaken off the suppression of the portal's darkness.

Orthos poked his head out of his shell, looking around. “It was a gateway?” He gave a loud humph and bit a chunk out of a nearby blackened tree. Even its wood was a pale gray. “You should have said so,” he complained, through a mouthful of splinters.

“Who has time for thorough explanations?” Eithan asked, then pointed to Mercy. “Now, Mercy, where are we?”

Mercy had set her jaw, her eyes fixed on the massive house to the east, her staff gripped firmly in both hands. “This is one of my family’s properties,” she said. “I didn’t live here, but it’s where I was trained.”

Suddenly, the massive spiritual presence in the castle took on ominous significance.

“Does that mean, in the house...” Lindon was afraid to finish the sentence. From what Mercy had said before, he suspected the Akura Monarch could sense her name spoken anywhere in the world.

“Maybe,” Mercy said grimly. “My mother doesn’t live here, but she visits from time to time. Her presence…lingers.”

She pointed with the dragon head on the end of her staff, and its eyes flared with violet light. “This valley is like our family garden. I used to cycle out here when I was a little girl. The vital aura here is strong, and we have every aspect you can think of.

“Of course, the strongest aura here is shadow. It covers everything.”

Lindon could already feel that was true. Everything was soaked in darkness, and it felt like a ghost was running fingers down his spirit. He already wanted to turn back.

“This place is full of natural treasures,” she continued, and Lindon immediately throttled the urge to leave. “It's where we grow them, so to speak.”

The air seemed to push against Lindon. He felt heavier, and simultaneously hotter and colder. That couldn't entirely be explained by shadow aura, so he opened his Copper sight.

And immediately regretted it.

A canvas of solid black pushed against his eyes, with lines of bright color burning against it. It was so stunning that it seared his spirit, and he cried out, hurriedly shutting his senses.

Yerin moved her hand to his arm, checking to see what was wrong, and Little Blue gave an inquisitive peep.

Dross hissed in sympathetic pain. [For you, looking directly at the aura here is like staring into the sun with your human eyes, so try not to do that. You probably could have used that warning a minute ago, but uh…lesson learned! Let’s call that a win for practical education.]

“The aura density here is far greater than it was in the Transcendent Ruins,” Eithan announced. “Cycling aura here will be much faster than back home, which will make reaching Underlord that much easier! Half of the reason that Underlords are so rare in the Blackflame Empire is that the aura is so thin, reaching the peak of Truegold becomes difficult. So for us, the opportunity to train here is a treasure all its own!”

“That’s…more than nothing, but how about the real treasures?” Yerin asked.

“That is the correct question! Your first step is to reach the pinnacle of Truegold and open a soulspace. You can get there with time...or with money. This place is a treasure trove. We are the first ones here.”

Eithan didn't say any more, clearly waiting for them to take over. He didn't need to say anything; Lindon understood.

“Mercy and Eithan are the two guides,” Lindon said. “Split up, cover more ground. Orthos and I should be separated. Go to the closest source of treasure, clean it out, and send a signal through your armor when you have. Then we'll assign new hunting spots so we don't waste time covering the same ground...”

He realized he was giving orders. He had grown used to making the decisions for his little group in Ghostwater, and doing missions for the Skysworn over the last two months, Eithan had kept himself out of command. Lindon had often slipped into the role, but why? This was Mercy's home, Yerin was stronger than he was, and Eithan was the only Underlord.

Lindon flushed and looked down at the ground. “...unless anyone else has another suggestion.”

“We don't,” Yerin said, turning to Mercy. “Lead the march. You, me, and Lindon. The turtle can go with Eithan.”

“I look forward to catching up with my old friend Orthos!” Eithan said, leaping over to the sacred turtle. “And my old friend Yerin!”

Yerin stopped in place. “...what?”

“Every second we spend talking is a second we’re not stealing! Begone with you!”

So Lindon and Mercy headed off together, trying to pretend they didn't see Yerin staring dejectedly after them.

~~~

Delving into the forest was like plunging into a dark, icy cave. The wind howled through the trees, fire madra doing little to ward off the cold, and unseen things shifted and hissed in the shadows...perhaps the shadows themselves.

Mercy had lightened up as they ran through the forest, and now she looked around with fondness. “I used to go on picnics out here,” she said. “This way!”

In only minutes, she led them to the edge of a short cliff. The drop was only ten feet down, and they overlooked a clearing about fifty yards square. It radiated an aura so forbidding that it stood out even from the deep shadows of the forest around it; Lindon shivered and slowed as they approached the cliff, afraid to glance down.

But Mercy walked up and looked around without fear, so he followed suit. Beneath them, filling the clearing, was a small battlefield. Skeletons littered the ground, rusted weapons sticking out of the earth. At first, it looked as though armies had clashed here, but all the skeletons were facing the same way. So an army had been obliterated here.

Between the bodies were brown grass and petrified vines, as though nothing could survive entering the clearing. The whole scene was shrouded in shadow like the rest of the Night Wheel Valley, but a spectral green light gave the field of death an otherworldly glow. At first, he couldn't make out the source of that light.

“The Valley has been in our family for generations,” Mercy said, walking to a row of long spears that had been driven into the ground on the edge of the cliff. The spears were covered in scripts, and were connected to the ground by long coiled-up cables. Their spearheads were dull. “The aura is so strong here that every big event leaves a permanent mark. This is where the Nutarou family tried to storm our house, believing that the family of shadow-artists living there was just a myth to keep them off the land.” She lifted a spear. “Their Remnants are long gone.

“Now, it's filled with death aura.”

With one motion, she hurled the spear into the land below—the momentum of the throw caused her to stumble and almost fall. Lindon caught her by the green-armored elbow, and she looked up at him gratefully.