Darkness shrouds the Darktowers as they press forward, the familiar cliffs in the forefront of their minds as their journey comes close to the end. Rothan sits over his mound of gold, the devil in command of his army with his evil eyes seeing each shadow, every corner, any opportunity with which to gain power, to flaunt the tree upon his palm and take what he covets most. And through the storm that brews, the light fades until the blackness chokes all in its path. A battle of wills dictates which path will be taken and when the torment ends, Aspen finds one brilliant shaft of light. A benevolent light. The most beautiful beam of light one has ever seen.