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An inky tendril of preternatural darkness snaked out from Avanthar's arcanic weave, intertwining itself with the ancient metal rails as it extended across the water that covered the floor of the cavern. If the process activated any ancient magic, there was no sign of it. The traces and fragments of pre-fracture arcana remained mere traces and fragments; nothing flared up to threaten Darksoul or his followers. They now had but to take the brief walk across to water to face the next phase of their journey. The way across the pool of still water was now as secure as anything could be in this place. Perhaps only the voyage that souls took across the Umblat was more secure and certain of issue.
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