Radeon moved through the stone carved passages, the air thick with dried blood and the faint echo of distant screams that clung to the tunnels long after the sound was gone.

Corridors split and twisted, left and right and back again, yet his steps never faltered. He walked with the easy certainty of Giovanni himself.

At last the cramped tunnel opened into a broad chamber spread before him, its walls bitten deep with smaller caves of uneven size.

A curtain hung at the mouth of each hollow, thin fabric guarding what little privacy could be had.

Disciples in plain robes drifted between the cave mouths, but no one spoke.

Footfalls were soft. Breathing was kept close. This was a cultivation ground and silence ruled here.

Radeon entered Giovanni's seclusion cave. The things were unorganized typical of a young man of his years.

Radeon's emotions had no remorse. Both he and Giovanni went for riches, he was just unfortunate to meet him there.

He took out what was valuable such as spirit stones, blood pills, and a spare sword.

Before he went out the small abode. He gave each wall of a cavern a stare of his eye ability.

He looked through immaterial and found a golden thread, the tread had barbed black around it, a clear sign it was beyond his ability.

But Radeon wasn't there to take that lion share. He was there to take a look, maybe skim off the top, if nothing was possible, he wouldn't shy away from retreating.

He slipped out of the small seclusion cave, letting the curtain fall back into place behind him.

A rough notice board had been nailed into the stone near the mouth of the sheltering chamber, heavy with hanging slips.

Radeon scanned the names until he found his borrowed one. Giovanni. Beside it someone had inked a neat mark. On leave.

Rewarded with free movement in the sect for meritorious service.

'I can use this to join the patrol, scout ahead, see where the golden threat leads.'

Radeon let his gaze drift over the chamber, weighing the tug in his eyes.

That sight of his, the one that laid bare the weave of fate, could only be called on twice in a day before it turned on him.

A third use dragged his body toward the floor and left his skull ringing for hours.

So he would spend it wisely. He meant to mark every place that mattered and skim what lesser treasures he could while he wore Giovanni's face.

The real Giovanni cared little for studying earthly treasure. Shiny ores and rare herbs might as well have been gravel to him.

That was why Radeon needed to see them for himself.

Radeon sat on a low stone jut near a narrow vent where the wind slipped out.

The spot had been claimed long ago by disciples who wanted a pull of tobacco between sessions.

The rock was stained with old ash and the faint sour tang of smoke.

Faces Giovanni had once known passed by. Radeon met them with the same small nod the boy used to give, no more than that.

In this very sheltering chamber, even friendly chatter could cost a man for the noise.

More than an hour crawled past before a fresh batch of patrols came through. Among them he spotted two breath tempering guards he recognized.

Their gazes caught on him and turned wary, measuring the status his recent reward had bought.

He stood and stepped close enough to clap each man on the shoulder. The simple touch loosened their faces.

They traded quick, relieved grins, as if deciding that whatever breakthrough Giovanni had made, it had not gone straight to his head.

"Piero. Luca." Radeon drawled, gaze flicking between them. "What have you two been up to now?"

"Thought you were dead, Giovanni," the gate guard called with a grin. "We were already picking through your things, for the burial, you understand."

"Bury it, is it? You mean bury it in your pockets?" Radeon scoffed. "Who do you think you're fooling? Now then, where are you headed?"

At his light question, the brief joy on their faces drained away. Gloom settled over them, a dull tiredness hitting as if someone had slapped it on.

Radeon let Giovanni's memories stir. These two had been saddled with a task far above their weight.

Punishment work, most likely. Payment for rifling through Giovanni's things before the cult had even confirmed him dead.

"It was farther east," one of the guards muttered, "where they were draining the prisoners."

"I never thought that cult was this... Dark," Piero said quietly.

"Shut that mouth of yours," the senior guard snapped. "You'll get us all in trouble, talking like that."

In Giovanni's memories he was younger than most, yet still placed above his peers.

The worst work they ever trusted him with was a shift with the alchemic room cleaners or a turn at the washtubs.

Most days he was kept busy drilling fresh disciples, his hands setting their stances rather than scrubbing pots.

This new assignment lay far outside that small, familiar circle. Which was why Radeon chose to go with the two men.

He wanted to see this strange ground for himself.

"Why don't I come along with you?" Radeon suggested, a touch too lightly. "They're surely looking for more hands, aren't they? I'm only curious, that's all."

The two men's faces lit at once when he agreed to come. Relief washed over them, quick and honest.

Then their shoulders drew back and their chins tipped up, a new air of superiority creeping in.

They both knew Radeon had never set foot in this place before. For once, they would be the ones leading him.

"Listen well, Senior Radeon," Luca said, all humor gone. "That place is no jest. First thing you'll need is a scarf... And something to cover your ears."

"Best you listen to us, just this once, Senior Radeon," Piero put in, voice low. "Even gilded core experts bring scarves and ear-cloths in there."

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