The Legend of Asahiel: Book 02 - The Obsidian Key by Eldon Thompson Page B

divine talismans—remained in the clutches of the enemy.
    “They journeyed far to the south, farther than almost any other had dared by sea, to reach the distant shores of Sekulon, the birthing grounds of man. For there dwelled the order of the Entients, self-proclaimed shepherds of mankind, who possessed the only other known Sword of Asahiel. The Vandari made their pleas for assistance, or at the very least, for the loan of the talisman. But the Entients refused. Man was a fledgling race struggling for survival, and the Entients, as overseers, were too obsessed with matters of their own to lend aid to outsiders.
    “Only Algorath, a prominent member of the order, took pity, urging his fellow Entients to reconsider. But they continued to vote against him. Unless the threat spread to their lands, it was none of their concern. That by then it might be too late was an argument that fell on deaf ears.
    “In response, Algorath left the order, stealing the Sword and traveling withthe Vandari back to Tritos. While evading pursuit, Algorath led a renewed resistance against the Illychar swarm. In a desperate attempt to turn the tide of war to their favor, Algorath confronted Sabaoth himself. During a battle that pitted Crimson Sword against Crimson Sword, the true power of Algorath’s blade was somehow released, shattering Sabaoth’s Sword and immolating the high king himself.
    “In the aftermath of this conflagration, Illysp and Illychar alike were driven back into the tunnels from whence they had emerged. But the rift remained. The best Algorath could do was to trap them there, deep beneath the surface. With the aid of Finlorian magi, the Vandari fashioned an altar over the exit and set upon it the Dragon Orb, a talisman of great power. Through it all they thrust Algorath’s Sword—now the last Sword of Asahiel—the key to a lock meant to contain the Illysp forever.”
    Torin was consumed by a dire fascination. It was all so real to him. For he had seen the Sword unleash its flaming fury more than once, and could imagine easily enough the titanic struggle between Sabaoth and Algorath. Not only that, but he had viewed and felt the magic of the lock that had kept these Illysp from his world, there in the catacombs of Thrak-Symbos. He even understood now, at least in part, the blade’s curious appearance as it held that lock together: its crimson radiance masked in gleaming obsidian while its inner fires were diverted through this “Dragon Orb” and its altar. Only after being drawn had the obsidian key been fully revealed as the Crimson Sword. By then, the lock was no more. A construct of divine majesty designed for a single purpose. Reduced in an instant to shards and rubble—by his own hand.
    Marisha sensed his torment, coming over to crouch beside him. One hand slipped around his stooped shoulders, while the other took comforting hold on his arm.
    “Why?” he murmured, staring at the Sword. “Why would the Entients have assisted me in—”
    “The Entients?” Darinor snorted. “Doddering fools. Did they have a hand in this?”
    “They spurred me on my quest,” Torin said, feeling no less responsible, “planting dreams and suggestions in my head, even sending me a map so that I would know where to begin. I didn’t know it at the time, but afterward—after I retrieved the Sword—they met with me. They wanted to witness the blade for themselves and to learn all about the manner in which it was found. In return, they told us—”
    Darinor was shaking his head. “I might have known. How a mere lad such as you could even begin to seek out the Sword was a mystery I could not fathom. That the Entients spurred you on explains a great deal.”
    “But how could they have done so?” Torin replied, ignoring the inherent insult. “How could they have succored me in this, knowing the truth?”
    “Because they did not know the truth,” Darinor snapped. His eyes were wide, his brows raked, his chin tucked into his