“I gotta say, it’s more comfortable in here than I would have thought.”

  Sequestered away in Razhik’s realm, Anilith marveled at the space. It was surprisingly well-lit, for a realm of Shadow. “Lit” wasn’t precisely the right word, but she had a hard time thinking of it any other way. Dark as the space was, she could see easily enough.

  “Been a while since I been in here,” Orion said, “And I gotta say, I don’t like it any better this time around. Too disconnected. And the way things move—unsettling, that.”

  Despite appearing to be under soft illumination, not unlike the light of Dusk, the surroundings smoked with trails of shadow. They appeared as a facsimile of the real world, and, clear as it appeared, the environment was intangible, insubstantial.

  Despite the atmosphere, the only things they could actively interact with were the Grokar, and they left them well enough alone, huddled off in their own nothing corner.

  “Where’s Razh, anyway?” Anilith asked. “Figured he’d be in here with us. I was looking forward to having him show me around. Can’t seem to recall any of the other times he’s dragged me through here. Thought I might get a proper tour, this time.”

  “He’s here, in a manner of speakin’,” Orion said, scratching his chin. “How does he put it? Not sure this’ll work for you, but he says it ain’t so different from a pool of water. We’re in the deep part, where he can get to us easy enough, but other things, not so much. He’s in the shallows, where it’s a touch easier to move about. That’s the only place he’s ever pulled you before. Things ain’t so easy to grasp there, at first. Took me ages, and it’s still all fuzzy around the edges. They’re strange, the shallows, an’ strange things lurk in ‘em.”

  “I’ll take your word for it, then. Bit unsettling here is all.”

  “I hear ya, there. Just try an’ relax. Trust me, you’ll know when it’s your part. For now, I’m gonna need to borrow your skills, so focus up!”

  “Try to relax. That’s rich, coming from you. Never seen you look less comfortable.”

  “Hey,” he said, holding up his hands, “I said try. Now, it’s about for me to join Razh. See you before you know it!”

  A shadow-clad paw reached out of thin air, pulling Orion along for the ride as it vanished.

  “Just…try to relax,” Anilith said, settling onto the shadowed ground. “Might not have a better chance to figure this out.”

  She closed her eyes, focusing on the nebulous feeling she’d stumbled on while watching the battle, and the songs of Arian played in her mind.

  Hope would guide them through this final test.

  Enveloped by shadows, the world whirled around Razhik like so much mist. The atmosphere in the shallows was thick that day, unusually so.

  He had never felt more comfortable at the border of his realm.

  The King made a mental note to see if one of the Shadow Guard might have some affinity for fog, once this dungeon nonsense was all through. Making the atmospheric improvement a permanent fixture jumped to the top of his to-do list.

  His realm existed as a shadow of the material realm, and it wasn’t really his—not that he’d ever admit that. Sure, he’d carved out a domain, and it was exceedingly rare to run into anything else there, and far better to tactically withdraw when he did, but his abilities were technically little more than a key.

  His friends would be fine, though. He had a good sense of when anything trespassed his shifting borders. Territory, after all, was a little more in flux in such a place, and his realm followed where his claim lay. It helped that it took a really tempting treat to pull denizens into the depths. They seemed to prefer the shallows, in Razhik’s experience, almost as if they longed for closeness with the material things they haunted.

  He avoided those things at all costs. Sometimes they latched onto a place; other times, it was something a tad bit more alive. The smell always gave them away, though, so it was no hard feat. Of course, he had to learn that trick the hard way. The memory of that encounter wasn’t likely to go anywhere any time soon.

  Yeah, Shadow-touched were the worst.

  But the battle was going swimmingly, in his estimation, and that meant it was about time to fetch Ori and get this party started.

  Sometimes, the girl had a good idea.

  Anilith sat cross-legged, concentrating on her inner space. All of her focus was centered on her elusive new ability. Its inherent advantages were undeniable, but it lacked a certain spark. Without a doubt, she could use it to turn the tide of a battle, yet she knew there was more to uncover. The ability, in its current state, would be next to useless in a duel.

  Such a reality was simply unacceptable.

  Any of her other capacities granted her mastery, a simple, effective edge in combat. The Wind spoke to her, but it also enhanced her speed. The Earth granted her awareness of all it touched, but also bolstered her strength and fortitude. Fire allowed her to see even traces of heat, but also multiplied her power. This latest discovery had to do more than grant her insight into the flow of battle.

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  The only remaining question was what exactly that might be.

  She also couldn’t change abilities right now to practice any other tricks. Orion borrowing her skill and leaving her here somehow locked her in, forcing her hand. She wasn’t one to waste a chance for self-improvement, though, and her focus had been chosen for her.

  Diving into her inner sanctuary, she contemplated the ability’s place in her armory. There was nothing like some good ol’ self-reflection to discover the hidden facets of her abilities.

  Razhik flitted from the shadows, emerging from a hole in the goblin lines with one goal: to sow chaos. Four times he’d struck, and four times the goblins had scrambled to form ranks around the incursion, only for him to disappear as quickly as he came. He never left many bodies in his trail, but that was never the point. In a battle of this scale, where moments mattered and every shift came at a cost, he was uniquely suited to reap morale.

  Well, when he could fully utilize his friends’ abilities, anyway. On his own, this tactic would undoubtedly get him killed.

  “Gotta say, I’m pleased with the way this is goin’,” Orion announced from Razhik’s back, when they’d returned to the relative safety of the shallows. “Not sure what the kid stumbled on here, an’ she ain’t sayin’, but damned if it ain’t useful.” He laughed, a quick, short thing. “Gettin’ to use her powers while she’s in your shadow hole, safe, for a change; that’s just salting the meal. Wasn’t sure I could hold the Connection, but sure was worth the chance, eh?”

  The Wanderer was the lynchpin of this whole gambit: the eyes and ears of the operation. Razhik’s mastery of shadow let him see the evolving battle from the realm between, the shallows. Anilith’s newfound insight let her pinpoint weak points in the enemy lines, where a touch of chaos might be most effective.

  Alone, they’d each be valuable assets. In Orion’s hands, they transcended value itself. He was the bridge between his friends, allowing the three of them to work as one, forging Razhik into a terrible force.

  “Can’t say I agree. The fact that her plan hardly takes any power on my end, that’s that salty goodness for me. I’m still recovering over here, you know! I don’t see anything wrong with riding her coattails; she’s keen enough on pushing ahead for all of us. I say we enjoy the ride,” Razhik said.

  “Yeah, yeah. I hear you, bud,” Orion patted Razhik’s flank. “Pretty sure she considered your sorry state when hashin’ out this plan. Now, connection’s still firm. Let’s live up to our end of the deal, eh?”

  Anilith never had an easy time relaxing, and this was especially true when she found herself in such a strange environment. It was a shadow of reality, no matter how she looked at it. Razhik had never spoken clearly about where he disappeared to, and the few instances she’d been pulled through the shallows, as he called them, her mind failed to grasp the experience, memories falling through cracks like so many grains of sand.

  Worse than anything, the locale made it nearly impossible to focus her full attention on the task at hand. The shadows of the material plane whispered songs of silence, an absence so loud, it was deafening. Sometime into her stay, she began to understand part of the unsettling charm of the place. It devoured even the smallest of noises. Her own heartbeat, for instance, no longer thrummed in her ears.

  It was remarkable, the way she’d never noticed such simple aspects of her day, and the number of things she’d just taken for granted. The lack of background noise was eye-opening, and not an experience she’d soon forget. Jarring as the lack of sensation was, she had no choice except to adjust and, when she did, she realized something unexpected.

  Each of those sounds she’d listened to her whole life, without ever truly hearing, was a piece of a whole: a whole that had painted her perception as long as she lived. In this shadowed vacuum, she was more aware than ever of each of these aspects she'd never known she’d miss, providing her with a unique opportunity to consider their importance.

  Her heart beat to a rhythm that was hers, and hers alone, forming the foundation of everything that followed. Each beat since the first built on that foundation, just as every choice she made shaped her path to power. She had the skills of a soldier, the capacity for destruction, but she needed more. Destruction without direction served no one. To follow that path would be a reflection of what brought her to the Tower in the first place, and no proper salvation for her people.

  It would be a scar, not a salve.

  Each ability she’d gained was just one piece of her, one ingredient for the solution she sought. The Wind had taught her a new way to hear, the Earth to feel, and Fire to see. Any of these was useful alone, but only together could they bring understanding. Too much was missed if a problem were viewed from only one perspective

  That was the key. More than anything else, the mysterious power of Hope she’d discovered had brought her understanding, what she needed most of all. She beheld the battlefield with more clarity than ever. Instinctively, she knew that Orion would not struggle to wield this power as he had her others because it brought understanding. With it, he would guide Razhik to the right place at the opportune moment, sowing the seeds of Arian.

  Perhaps the value of this power did not come in the form of combat ability.

  If everything she’d done had led her here, every choice she’d made paved the way for this moment, the answer was already in front of her, if she could only find the right point of view. She sat there, isolated from everything she’d known, fueled only by a power she had yet to understand, unable to access those she was most familiar with—a familiarity paid for in blood.

  But this isolation had forced her to see things she’d taken for granted, painting her life with stark, contrasting color. Her journey in the Tower, relatively short as it had been, was the story of her abilities. She’d only awakened her Blade Weaving shortly before entering, and only discovered the Wind because of that awakening. Her first battle gifted her with the stone that helped her feel the Earth, set her on a path to Orion and Razh, a path that led her to Pip and Fire.

  She trained and trained, pushed beyond every limit she encountered, teaching herself to transition between Stances nearly seamlessly. Each challenge she faced had primed her, forced her to adapt and overcome. Every step compounded with those that came before, until she found herself in a battle the likes of which she’d never imagined, faced with a power she hadn’t expected.

  But how does it help me? How can I overcome this?

  At the end of the day, she had to depose the Warlord one way or another. Armed with her shifting Blade, she would confront him with the arsenal she had forged, but it bothered her. Why now? What would this pave the way for? It was an itch she couldn’t ignore. This power had to be good for more than just reading the battlefield. She couldn’t accept that it might be a defective tool.

  Unless.

  An idea, a formless, shapeless thing, crept through her mind, and it brought with it a sense of assurance. A smile spread across her face, unbidden, as she considered the implications. Deprived of her other abilities, she saw their worth more clearly than ever, and found understanding.

  Before her, a tear in the shadowed landscape opened, as if a great talon had rent the fabric of the realm asunder, and she climbed to her feet.

  I guess that means I’m up.