Dacre waited for his eithrals to withdraw a second time before approaching Avalon Bluff, pleased with the devastation wrought by the green gas that limned the town. He admired the mortal-made weapon and decided to spare the town from burning, reserving it for other plans. With a gesture, he sent his soldiers to scavenge survivors, reflecting on how only mortals with a strong, present will at the brink of death were useful to him.

As the wind began to push the gas aside, Dacre walked the perimeter and followed the clearing air to a golden field. He felt the pull of a cold, ice-like soul struggling to live and was drawn to it. He found a young, raven-haired man crawling through the grass, lungs close to failure and with leg wounds, and silently measured the moments left before death.

Val, Dacre’s most powerful servant, reported that the town was nearly secured but some lorries had escaped. Dacre, in unusually good spirits, dismissed the setback and focused on the gasping mortal, noting the man’s profound anguish and stubborn will to move rather than surrender to death. Dacre judged the spirit valuable and within his power to mend.

Realizing with delight that the dying man was a correspondent and not a soldier, Dacre decided he would be uniquely useful in his ranks. He commanded Val to take the man below, and Val complied by drawing a ring in the earth around the mortal to open a quick portal.

Content with his prize and the town’s capture, Dacre looked eastward, setting his sights on the path to Enva as his forces continued to consolidate control.