The mines are older than anyone could imagine.
Wooden beams splinter beneath centuries of weight. Ancient mining equipment sits rusted and frozen in place, relics of a long-forgotten effort to pull the Isles' hidden treasures from the earth. I move slowly, carefully, hands brushing over corroded handles, listening to the subtle groans of settling rock.
It isn't long before I find what I came for: Fools Blood.
The vein is decaying, darkened at the edges, pulsing faintly as though still alive. I kneel and take out a sharp dagger. Precision matters. One slip could shatter the vein—or worse, trigger something unforeseen.
I slice carefully, harvesting in small, measured chunks. Each piece goes into my satchel, cushioned and separated from everything else. I repeat the process until I've taken only what I need, leaving the rest behind. Respect matters. Even in decay, the Titan's remnants demand it.
The mines are dangerous. Not overwhelmingly so, but the shadows are deep and the floors unstable. Fissures twist beneath my boots, dripping water echoes in ways that play tricks on the mind. But I'm flexible, capable, prepared. Ice glyphs reinforce slick edges, plant glyphs form stable bridges where none exist. I move confidently across broken platforms, every step calculated.
Finally, I emerge from the tunnels and make my way toward Eclipse Lake.
The lake is still and dark, a perfect mirror for the strange sky above. I kneel by the water and begin my search. Hours pass as I scan, prod, and gently dredge, careful not to disturb the natural balance more than necessary.
Then I see it: a faint glimmer at the bottom of a shallow depression.
Titan blood.
Not much. Not nearly enough to fuel anything monumental—but precious beyond measure. I carefully extract it, placing each drop into a tiny vial, sealing it with a glyph of preservation.
It isn't a fortune. But it is enough. Enough to experiment. Enough to learn. Enough to feel the weight of history in my hands.
I stand at the edge of the lake, staring at the liquid that reflects the strange constellations above. Even a tiny fragment of Titan blood carries the pulse of power, the memory of ages, the whispers of the Titans themselves.
And now, it's mine.
I tuck the vial carefully into my satchel and take a deep breath.
One small step closer to the portal door. One small step closer to mastery.
And every bit of care I took here will pay off when I start combining all I've learned.