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Toren Daen

The Asclepius Clan touted themselves as the greatest hunters in all of Epheotus. While I had not met them yet, there was a way I could know them better.

I shifted on my root-branch, clenching and unclenching my fists as I called on my mana. My regalia burned with warmth as I focused on my newest technique.

When Seris and I had sparred, she’d asked me what I could do to address my lacking senses. Here, I had her answer.

Sound magic built over my heart as the resounding beat came slow and steady in my mind. I listened to that rhythm, attuned myself to it. And then I released my spell.

A subtle wave of sound magic—inaudible to normal ears and shivering at a frequency so as to be nearly undetectable—radiated outward from me in an omnidirectional wave. I could just barely hear it, even with my advanced hearing.

The sound mana traveled over everything around me, bouncing off the stone walls and rippling through the reddish roots. And as it did so, it rebounded back to me.

An image slowly formed in my mind. A shaky, blurry image, but an image nonetheless. The spell I’d just used—titled Sonar Pulse—was designed after the echolocation abilities of the Echo Vespertion I’d slain so long ago. It fed a model of the world around me in three dimensions directly into my brain.

I tilted my head, internally overlaying the model filtering through my brain with what I physically saw, the intent of the many mana beasts hiding amidst the brush, and the heartfire of every living thing.

The world is so much more alive than the eyes alone can see, I thought, giving myself a minute to hone the technique. For all that I envied Arthur his ability to see the mana in the world, I’d wager the image in my head is just as comprehensive.

Seventeen mana beasts in my immediate range, I thought, focusing on the mental image Sonar Pulse returned. Most are A-class. A few AA-class beasts. And one…

There was one I got a fuzzy outline of—and the quiet intent of all other beasts radiated quiet fear of it. From what I could sense, it was barely S class, and it was slowly moving closer and closer through the ravine. Every beast it swung by ducked and hid, even those that I suspected would be a worthy battle.

The first rule of a hunt, my son, Aurora’s voice feathered across my ear. When all other monsters fear one, you must cultivate a controlled fear yourself. There is a reason.

I nodded slowly as I decided on my quarry. The approaching creature bounded along the roots in a strange, erratic manner, darting to and fro in no discernible pattern. I rolled my shoulders, mentally preparing myself for a battle.

Then I leapt, pulling in my presence as I bounded with casual ease from reddish branch to reddish branch, moving closer and closer to my quarry. I was hyper-aware of how many mana beasts there were around me, the trifold relay of Sonar Flow and my other senses telling me how everything else shied away from the approaching monster.

It didn’t take long for me to close in on the creature. I could swing and maneuver through the tangled webs of roots with an ease that I suspected was greater than even the native beasts. I narrowed my eyes as I clung to the cliffside, my hand sinking deep into some sort of moss as my telekinetic pulls kept me anchored.

And I saw it: the creature all the other mana beasts were desperately avoiding. It stumbled along a far-away root, lurching this way and that as if something inside of its mind were broken. It was a pale, creamy color, and appeared to be made entirely out of some sort of plant matter. It had no discernable facial features that I could see, though it appeared vaguely bipedal.

Aurora, I thought to my bond as I watched the thing nearly stumble and fall from its branch, do you know what it is?

From my mana sense, it could tell that it would be barely within the acceptable range of S-class. But the way it stumbled about on blocky, puffy legs of whitish plant matter made me doubt its abilities.

“I do not recognize this creature,” Aurora’s shade whispered into my ear. “But do not let your guard down because it presents a foolish appearance.”

I nodded slowly in agreement. Yeah, I know, I thought, observing the creature from above as a hunter spies their prey. Thank you, though. It doesn’t hurt to keep being reminded.

As I focused more mana into my eyes, I realized I had to change my original description of it. It wasn’t plant matter that it was composed of. It looked more like some kind of mushroom was vaguely molded like clay into a human shape. Its heartfire sounded strange to my ears, too. As if it were thin, like dripping sap rather than a steady heartbeat.

The thing jerked to a halt, going still as a grave. Then its head snapped up to me.

I suppressed a sneer of disgust as I looked at the thing’s face. It had no eyes. No mouth. No nose. Just a featureless, blank canvas. But I knew without a doubt that it had somehow sensed me.

It lunged from its branch, the rust-colored root splintering beneath it as its legs expanded unnaturally, warping in such a way to give it more strength. It swung its arm halfway through its lunge, aiming to gore me with a hundred expanding tendrils of mycelium.

I have to reprise my statement, I thought calmly, summoning a shrouded saber. I imbued it with a helpful dose of sound magic, causing it to hum and vibrate like a plucked guitar string. This thing does have the ability to be S-class.

I maneuvered slightly to the side, noting the creature’s errant trajectory. As it sailed harmlessly past me, I casually swung my crystalline blade. It bisected the creature three times, the spongy material parting with absurd ease beneath the vibrating power of my sound magic.

I hovered out of the way as five chunks of pale mushroom fell to the cavern floor far below, bouncing along each and every root on the way down. Internally, I felt a bit of annoyance at how simply this hunt had ended. The pent-up emotions I’d been carrying hadn’t had a chance to be vented in the slightest.

I sighed as I let myself fall, tracing the falling mushroom parts of the fallen monster. I wouldn’t let this thing’s body go to waste, and I’d have to cook it for–

My eyes widened as I noticed a discrepancy in the heartfire of the beast. Where normally a creature’s heartfire evaporated on death, misting away into currents of aether, this monster’s didn’t.

My eyes tracked the falling chunks of mushroom, hearing as one chorus of strange sap turned into five.

It’s not dead, I realized, slowing in my descent as I weaved around roots. No, it’s far from it.

And then the change occurred. The chunks clung to nearby roots as they fell, and I sensed as it drained the lifeforce from the roots like parasites. The roots blackened and died as each chunk reformed larger than before, five in total.

One thrust its hands into the cavern wall, anchoring itself there before glaring up at me with a faceless maw. Another thunked against a root, before scrabbling for purchase. Another continued to fall, bumping against roots aimlessly. One of the creatures actually managed to land on an outcropping of stone, while the final identical mushroom beast tried to grab a vine.

The vine, however, wasn’t equipped to handle this sudden weight. It snapped, sending the eerily silent creature into the chasm below with its brother.

They stared up at me, their intent laser-focused. It wasn’t the focus of intelligence, not really. It was like a machine was analyzing me. Picking me apart for my secrets.

We hung there for a moment as I cataloged what had just happened, my brow furrowing as I called on my magic.

Then they lunged at me. In the same, easily predictable pattern as before, three monsters used the walls, roots, and vines around me to jump in an unerring line as they prepared to tear out my throat.

I grit my teeth, easily avoiding each attack. An elongating swipe of mycelium claws sailed over head as I contorted, while the rabid lunge of another barely missed the hems of my robes. I used a gentle push with my boot to maneuver the last attacker out of the way, feeling the air on my cheek.

And then they hurtled back toward the walls. In that split instant, I allowed myself to think. I can’t cut them, I thought, my hands ghosting for the sensation of a shrouded saber. If I cut them, they might just duplicate again, then use the trees nearby to regenerate. That means I need to stop whatever is allowing them to duplicate.

A fourth creature finally surged for me, jumping up from below and wrapping my legs in its crushing grip. My telekinetic shroud creaked as its mushroom-like arms seemed to grow over my legs, stretching higher and higher as the thing looked up at me silently.

Perfect, I thought, feeling a grin on my face, even as the thing tried to consume me alive. I focused on a different spell, feeling the ambient fire mana tremble.

Scorching orange flames burst from me in an unending wave. As the heat washed over the beast clasping my leg, the pale mycelium blackened and burned, sizzling away as it became less than ash.

The creature screamed as flames raced along its body, a mouth opening from nowhere as it tried to detach. Thin strands of plant matter connected the ‘lips,’ creating a grotesque effect that looked a bit like melted cheese.

Burn, monster, I thought, my eyes flashing as I felt a bit of vindictive pleasure.

Then it exhaled a cloud of greenish spores from its blackening body. I felt the strange heartfire in its body misting through those spores as they blurred toward my nose and mouth.

Absolutely not.

I conjured a shrouded saber in a flash, imbuing it with a coating of fire. I swung it deftly, unleashing a wave of flames that battled against the spores, before burning them all away.

I felt as the heartfire of the monster finally died, its body drifting away in ash. Its blackened motes fell away into the cavern below.

I frowned as I turned to look at the three other mushroom creatures. Their intent didn’t display any sort of anger or fear as they watched me, only grim calculation.

“This is why all the monsters avoid this creature,” Aurora conveyed to me over our bond, “it duplicates and spreads like a virus–and though you allowed none of those spores to touch you, I am certain you can guess their effects.”

It spreads the infection, I thought, calling on my mana.

Then I engaged another one of the techniques I’d been working on.

While I bore the blood of the Asclepius in my veins, I was not an asura. I could not take on a pure mana form like those of purest blood, shifting into great birds of titanic size and power.

But there was something in my very soul that gave me wings; that made each shrouded feather that stretched from my back feel right. I just needed to hone in on that sense for my blood.

Thin veins of heartfire pressed up and around and through my body as my form seemed to expand slightly. Like coursing arteries delivering vital nutrients, the structured strata of orange-purple energy followed ghostly passages that should be present, that were intrinsic parts of my blood, even if I could not directly transform.

And overtop of this, a telekinetic shroud that sizzled with protective fire layered itself like feathers. Armor that glistened like crystal and shone with the physique of a phoenix’s skin slowly pressed outward. A ghost of a man—both different and the same—superimposed itself across my body. Stylized wings grew from above the avatar’s ears out of crystalline mana, rising up like tailfeathers kissing the breeze.

This Shrouded Spirit was a blood-borne extension of my normal telekinetic shroud, my new knowledge of my regalia, and the insights I’d gained that allowed me my wings. The light that encompassed me now was strangely detailed, and it was hard to tell if it mirrored armor or flesh.

My telekinetic shroud had always enhanced my strength and speed, adding multiplicative weight behind each of my attacks. But now, that effect multiplied on itself again as my heart strained ever-so-slightly underneath the burden of reflective feathers.

It had only taken me a split second to conjure a shrouded spirit about myself, but in that time the creatures seemed to come to some sort of ‘decision.’ They moved toward each other in their jerky, uncoordinated way.

The three remaining monsters charged for each other, something strange in their heartfires resonating. Lurching back for a whole.

My eyes widened as I sensed what they were about to do, uncountable hours of combat and battle practice telling me precisely what was going to happen as the three meshes of sap-like lifeforce gradually began to resonate.

I blurred forward, conjuring a shrouded hammer as I prepared to stop the creatures from merging back together.

Unfortunately, life had other plans. The fifth creature struck me from the side, tackling me out of the air and slamming us into a cluster of nearby vines. My shrouded armor cracked from the impact as my limbs were tangled in a mishmash of roots and twisting plants, the wood resisting my coating of fire surprisingly well.

I snarled in anger, increasing my output of fire in response as I was suddenly trapped. But it wasn’t enough. The pale creature grew and grew as my fire ate away at it, using the nearby tree to regenerate at a breakneck pace. As fast as I could burn it with my fire, it surged, trying to bury me in a coffin of white mycelium. The sensation of its squirming, twisting tendrils as they coated the entire area around me like a blanket sent nausea roiling through my gut.

If fire won’t burn you fast enough, I thought angrily, feeling my heartbeat increase, then let’s see how you like it when I do the same to you.

I called on my lifeforce, coating my hands in refracting dawnlight even as the strange creature sought to blot out the sun. My shrouded armor resonated, talons sharpening from my fingers. Then I thrust them forward, sinking my fingers into the putty-like creature’s soft body.

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I felt my heartfire mesh with its own. And then I heaved.

The monster shuddered, then began to squirm as I siphoned its lifeforce from its very body. It shrank inward, dehydrating at a rapid pace. It tried weakly to absorb more energy from the nearby roots, but my fire burned hotter now, erasing the plants while simultaneously charring any mycelium that got too close.

Normally, it was difficult to directly take another creature’s lifeforce as I did now. If I wanted to dominate their energy, it was more efficient to weaken them first, before targeting their hearts where all heartfire flowed through.

It was even harder to grasp this thing’s soultether. There weren’t veins to follow. There weren’t clearly defined pathways and arteries that made it easy to intercept. The entire thing didn’t even really have a circulatory system or a nexus like a heart.

I came here to learn and grow, I thought angrily as I felt the energy coursing through my blood, making the world feel more alive and aware. My muscles felt stronger, my will more sure. My heartfire—which had been depleting from the strain of maintaining my armor—finally found equilibrium once more. And I’m going to use your corpse to do it. As many corpses of you as I can!

I engaged my Acquire Phase on instinct as something barreled toward me, barely perceptible outside the rush of energy. I managed to get my arms in front of my face as they were finally freed from their bindings, bracing for impact as I flooded mana through my channels.

And then it finally came. With my enhanced perception while under the effects of my Phoenix Will, I could sense the slurry of lifeforce within the massive mycelium monster’s limb as it slammed into my arms, cracking my telekinetic shroud. The fire coating my shrouded armor was blown out from the sheer force traveling in the wake of the monster’s blow.

I saw a flash of a gaping maw, felt the strangely mechanical intent. And then I blurred away from the impact.

I smashed back-first into the cavern wall, a crater the size of a house opening behind me. I felt something in my back break despite my armor, but the excess lifeforce I’d stolen from the earlier mycelium monster quickly rushed at my command, sealing over the damage before I even had a chance to feel it.

I sensed the next attack coming. I rolled to the side, conjuring shrouded feathers in my hands as I dipped and weaved around nearby branches, before throwing them like telekinetically accelerated darts at my foe.

The massive beast—fully formed now from the three earlier creatures—slammed with a jerking halt into where I’d just been a moment before. My feathers of fire thunked into its body, before exploding in a nimbus of charring heat.

The creature didn’t care. It leapt for me, its body blackened and singed as it tried to grasp me in puffy hands. Unwilling to play that game, I surged upward, deftly avoiding the attack as instincts honed through my Phoenix Will guided me away.

I watched the beast from high above like an asura gazing down on an ant, noting the changes in its movements. Before, the individual creatures had been jerky and unrefined. But now, they seemed more… purposeful. Intentional.

It looked up at me with its faceless expression. The beast was easily twenty feet tall, towering over me severalfold. It looked somehow more monstrous than the creature it had once been.

It reached an arm out to the side. I watched with keen interest as its tendrils of mushroom-like appendage burrowed into the nearby roots. The thing didn’t take its ‘eyes’ off me as it gradually absorbed nutrients and sustenance from the vine, using them to rejuvenate its stores of lifeforce and grow just a bit larger.

Aurora emitted a wave of increasing worry as she put together what this creature was doing. It was using me. Using me to grow, to learn, to change.

But that was fine. Because part of the reason I’d entered these Beast Glades in the first place was to improve my skills. To truly push the limits of what I could do. And for once, I had prey that wouldn’t break the moment I sank my saber into its stomach.

I used my telekinetic regalia, grabbing as much debris as I could from around me that wouldn’t simply strengthen the monster. A hundred shards of smashed rock from my earlier crater slowly floated around me, each bit of shrapnel under my precise control. A shrouded saber grew in my hands, burning with red plasma. The light glinted off my crystalline armor.

Let’s put this puzzle of my style together, shall we? I thought, my eyes tracing the murky, indistinct flow of the monster’s lifeforce. The entire chasm felt unnaturally still and silent as we faced off with each other. I’m going to use you, just as you’re using me.

I shot forward, a grin on my face as my aura expanded. Focusing on my magic, I sent a storm of rocks at the creature with a wave of telekinetic force. The creature lurched backward as the storm of stone peppered its body like shrapnel, suddenly off balance from the tiny strikes. In an effort to make some sort of defense, the monstrous beast swung its hand, its fist enlarging as the spongy material swelled.

My shrouded saber easily bisected the hand with the sound of sizzling flesh. The limb–nearly as large as I was–began to fall, the lifeforce within squirming and twisting as it began to regrow.

Not willing to let that happen, I lashed out with my regalia, grabbing the arm in a flare of psychokinetic white.

At the same time, I finally closed the distance with the massive monster. It reacted slowly as my saber shifted to a hammer, before I drove it across its head.

My plasma phased through the head as if it wasn’t even there, burning it to less than ash. Without a second to waste, I planted my feet on the massive monster’s abdomen, allowing fire and telekinetic force to build up along the soles of my shoes.

“You’re going to have to be better than this, beast,” I sneered, my blood hot in my veins.

The thing seemed to sense what was about to happen. Its remaining arm latched onto my torso, trying in vain to crush my telekinetic armor. The crystal cracked and shuddered like diamond slowly breaking. Eventually, I felt my bones begin to creak and my organs bruise from the pulping force, but it wasn’t enough. With a bare mental thought, shrouded wings grew from my back, flaring wide as they hummed with sound mana, before severing the limb as well in a sizzling twist.

Then the fire and force erupted from my feet. The mindfire stamp blew a hole straight through the creature, but the force of the impact still sent it hurtling down to the chasm below. It smashed through half a dozen roots on its way down, smoking and sizzling.

I lost sight of the monster as it reached the bottom of the ravine, but from my sense of heartfire, I knew it was far from dead. It didn’t seem to feel any sort of pain from what I’d done or reflect any real emotion in its intent.

I grabbed the severed limb that was still trying to crush my torso–God, did that hurt–and sank lifeforce-coated talons into its putty-like flesh. I slowly drew on its heartfire as a man drinks cool springwater from a straw. Simultaneously, I brought the other arm closer to me with my telekinesis, before driving my saber into its fleshy form. Lifeforce flared brightly around my shrouded weapon, before I drank from that cool spring as well.

My wounds healed over as the hand grasping my torso shrank in on itself, becoming weak and brittle as opposed to the spongy texture it had before. I exhaled a breath of steam as I worked my limbs, a beat of Sonar Pulse telling me precisely where the monster was far below me.

I rolled my shoulders as I let the thing regenerate and grow just a bit more, letting myself think. The feathered pauldrons glimmered in the low light.

I’m starting to get an idea, I thought, of what this style of mine should be.

The creature shot straight upward again, but this time, it had wings. Thin membranes of mycelium carried it upward as it surged for me, fully whole and now twenty-five feet tall.

My eyes widened slightly at the sheer speed of it, a boom of sound trailing in its wake. I saw its fist coming, though, and maneuvered my hand to the side as I tried to use my plasma saber to cut it away once more.

Except that punch never came. Out of the corner of my perception, I noticed as one of its massive wings–far too large for this chasm–swung in from the side.

It cracked against me with the force of a hurricane, sending me hurtling across the root-crossed cavern. A few of the roots tore bloody gashes across my body as I scraped across them.

Finally, I managed to right myself in the air as I flapped my shrouded wings to stabilize myself. The crystalline wings covered me as I refocused on the fight.

The creature was already blurring toward me at the speed of sound–but I could still react. In that microsecond of time, I sent half a dozen telekinetic feathers after the creature like glimmering fireflies, each imbued with a churning buildup of plasma. When they sank into the creature’s fleshy hide, I smiled.

Just before the creature reached me, fingers outstretched to spear through my eyes, the feathers detonated. An explosion rippled from each point of impact, sending waves of searing plasma through every inch of its body.

A husk reached me, still speeding with the force of a train. I snapped my hand out, conjuring fire around my hands as I grasped it by the ‘skull.’ It halted abruptly in the air, its limbs limp as smoke rose off its near-corpse.

Then my wings flashed half a hundred times, carving the body into uncountable pieces. A burst of fire from my hands burned it all away.

There was nothing left of the creature in the silence. Nothing but–

“Toren!” Aurora shouted in my head, her voice reverberating through my skull. “There are more! Do not let your guard down!”

I shot forward, barely avoiding two identical creatures as they nearly cut me in two. My eyes widened as I stared at them, recognizing what had happened.

The wings, I realized, the monster recognized that I was going to destroy it, so it detached its wings!

Two new creatures–each as large as the last–stared at me, their intent focused and dark. And for once, I felt the inklings of intelligence growing there.

Not good.

Okay, I thought as I made up my mind. Enough is enough. I need to end this now–but I need to find a way to stop that regeneration. To really ensure that it won’t come back.

This creature adapted quickly with each exchange in some way I didn’t understand. But if it started to develop true intelligence, and actually used its abilities intelligently…

I fell into Soulplume as the creatures rushed me, drawing on the depths of asuran insight I had at my command. Their blurring forms suddenly snapped back into focus, seeming to move at a snail’s pace as my hair turned the color of fire and my eyes burned. Mana flowed through my veins with impossible purity, granting me a sense of awareness that felt divine.

I thrust my hands out, each covered in feathered runes that seemed to overlay my shrouded armor. My unease and anxiety misted away as I called on my regalia.

The monsters each hit a wall of solid force, rebounding off like ping-pong balls striking a windshield. I exhaled a breath, then waved my hand. A wave of white fire and force smashed into one of the mushroom monsters, blowing it to the side with a swell of singed flesh and paltry strength. When it reoriented, trying to strike at me again, I conjured a storm of white fire, sending it out to burn in waves forty feet tall.

When the heat washed over it, there was nothing left.

And the second monster? I didn’t even allow it near me. I thrust my hands out, focusing on my spellform as I gritted my teeth. It stayed there, suspended in the air as I ran through what I had to do next.

With my insight into lifeforce enhanced by my Second Phase, I could truly see the flow of heartfire as the energy–tinted a strange greenish color–seeped through the creature’s body.

I drifted forward, holding out my shrouded saber. It flared slightly as I imbued more lifeforce into it. I remembered how I’d drawn and nurtured Sevren’s heartfire as I connected his arm. My eyes narrowed in on a particular flow of heartfire in the creature’s body.

And if I could heal… why couldn’t I break as well?

I raised my blade, the shrouded saber flashing with the color of a waxing dawn. The world seemed to hold its breath, and for an instant, I thought the beast before me might feel fear. It had grown some form of intelligence over the course of our battle. Was it aware enough to dread the swing of the reaper’s scythe?

Then I brought my blade down, severing the creature in two. And when my flare of lifeforce intersected that flow of energy, I could feel as my power burned and tore and sundered at its primordial root. Where my lifeforce blade cut, it left only destruction in its wake.

The creature screamed. It hadn’t ever made any sort of sound before, but as I cut it in two, it bellowed a mournful, pained wail. I silenced it with a wave of sound magic, still holding it in place.

My eyes drifted to the second half of the beast, watching. Waiting. I had acted on a hunch. An insight I’d borne for a long time, but had suppressed deep in my soul.

But it did not regenerate. It did not duplicate into a new creature, the ends of its heartfire veins burned and charred by my severing attack in a way that denied any sort of regrowth.

Just like Seris said, I thought a bit sadly. A scalpel can be wielded just like any blade.

I could cut people so that they would never heal.

The creature continued to scream in abject pain, the ends of its metaphysical flow—still visible under the effects of soulplume—sizzling with dawnlight mist that only I could see. Those wounds would never heal.

I sighed, deep from the depths of my soul. Then I thrust my blade deep into the wretched mycelium, before beginning to pull.

When I’d first tried to drain one of these creatures, it had taken some real effort to exert my will over its soupy lifeforce and really dominate it. But it was unnaturally simple now, as my blade drove through its flesh. And the longer I did so? The easier it became. Strangely easy, in fact–as if the lifeforce of the monster itself still held some sort of understanding of its abilities to drain and rejuvenate from damage. The more I drained, the more I incorporated deep into my pulsing heart, the greater my knowledge grew.

It didn’t take long for me to siphon all of its vital energy. I felt a grim sort of detachment as I did so, allowing the husk to mist away.

How much of that is truly me gaining knowledge from siphoning their heartfire, I wondered grimly, And how much is it just because I’m loosening my restraints?

If I needed to do this again, I doubted I’d even need to truly drive my blade through a foe. The mere exposure of my enemy’s blood on my shrouded saber would be enough for me to tear away chunks of their vital fire.

There were a few instances before this where I’d siphoned my enemies’ strength. Usually in a pit of dire need, or to help another. But even as I did so, there was a bit of reluctance holding me back. Not so much, now. And as I allowed that side of myself to become more prevalent, I realized that this was only the beginning. Only the start of what I could eventually do with my heartfire.

And finally, the creature became a withered husk as I drained all of its heartfire away. A bare flex of my mana engulfed its second half in white fire before that too became ash.

As I let Soulplume fall away from the forefront of my mind, I felt a strange sort of melancholy. It was nice to have ideals of healing and helping, but that couldn’t always be the case.

I felt Aurora’s comforting hand on my shoulder, helping me feel a bit better in the silence of the chasm.

As grim as it was, I was starting to put together the pieces of what my personal fighting style would be.

“I suppose it's natural,” I said wistfully, noting how all the nearby mana beasts had shied far away, “that predators hunt prey.”

Windsom Indrath

The corpse of the Wraith was limp in my arms as I stared down at the ravine from miles above, careful not to focus too intently on the sole area where the target of my attention lounged. Though the clouds masked my physical presence, I knew it was not infallible.

A troublesome phoenix, I thought with a slight upturn of my lips. Her senses are sharp. Far, far too sharp.

The lessuran wretch in my hand—or what was left of the thing trailing Toren Daen—didn’t seem to understand this, dim-witted as it was. Its ability to mask its presence was exceptional, especially for one of the basilisk’s blood, but it could not hide from me.

I hefted the corpse, inspecting its empty eyes and shattered horns. Once, it had been female and covered in shadows. The dark hair of the lessuran had spiraled up to wrap around its horns strangely, but now there was little remaining of the skull at all.

A petty thing to face a dragon of the Indrath Clan.

The Wraith had begun to inch too close to our mutual target. At first, I had restrained myself from wiping its filth from the face of the continent, aware of the possibility that it might alert the one we both followed. But the Wraith clearly didn’t know the stories of Aurora Asclepius and her power, else it wouldn’t have risked getting so close.

I snorted in distaste. Besides, if this Wraith found Toren Daen, the phoenix lessuran would have emerged victorious in any battle they held, I thought. Typical of the Vritra to overestimate themselves. And if this Wraith is part of a battlegroup, then the other four are not present.

But that was beside the point. It appeared that Agrona Vritra placed as much interest in the one called “Spellsong” as Lord Indrath, for there could be no other reason he placed a spy to follow the mage.

I’d been deployed a week ago by my lord to observe Toren Daen and confirm General Aldir’s initial report, as well as to gather as much information as I could. As such, I almost could not believe the fortune bestowed upon me as the lessuran set off to the east, tracking through the Beast Glades in a seemingly erratic pattern.

But I had quickly deduced the true meaning of such movements. Without a doubt, the lesser was being guided by the ghost of Lady Dawn to the resting place of the Asclepius Clan. If I wished to deduce the location of the phoenixes’ cowardly nest, then I need only follow from afar.

But the presence of the half-blood corpse in my grip complicated things.

My eyes darted down to the lesser I’d been tasked with investigating, ensuring I did not focus too greatly. In truth, I had learned all that had been tasked of me, and much more as well.

But the introduction of Wraiths to the warfront spelled a greater change. Agrona Vritra had always been cautious with his use of the half-blood warriors, reserving them only to deter the forces of our warriors.

But if he is deploying them now, I thought, then I must inform my lord immediately.

I ground my teeth in quiet anger as I contemplated my options. Continue tracing Toren Daen to the traitors’ den, or inform Lord Indrath?

I sighed. Too long had I been envoy to the lessers, ensuring they grew upon predetermined paths. In the end, there was one duty that preceded all others. “Lessers and their irritating tendencies,” I said with distaste, making up my mind.