The Sword of Kings

By Jason Beil

Lorn du Carren is the exiled Prince of Eglak, betrayed by his corrupt brother and cast out of his homeland for crimes he did not commit. Recently, Lorn has risen from despair and self-pity, taking up the sword to defend young Alec Mason and the Talisman of Unity from Salin Urdrokk's terrifying wrath. With Salin defeated and the Talisman safe, Lorn has found sanctuary and purpose in the realm of Faerie, where he aids the Fair Folk in their battle against the forces of darkness.

When he receives word that his brother Thorne is waging a futile war that has brought Eglak to the edge of ruin, Lorn resolves to return home to set matters aright. But as the war escalates, a sinister power grows in Thorne, a power somehow tied to the otherworldly weapon he wields, the Sword of Kings.

Meanwhile, a dangerous sorcerer escapes captivity and returns to threaten the people of Faerie. And an ancient curse grows in power, causing the living dead to spill forth from the tomb of Faryn-Gehnah. Is this strange convergence of events a coincidence, or is there a single dark will behind it? And can Lorn, Alec, and the heroes of Faerie do anything to stop it?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jason Beil
• Release date: Sep 27, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466064508

Jason Beil

Jason Beil has written numerous short stories, countless songs, and a rock musical fantasy, The Other Side of Never. He has published the first two novels in his epic fantasy cycle, The Talisman War Trilogy. The first novel in the cycle, The Talisman of Faerie, was published in 2004 and translated into German in 2010 under the title Flucht Nach Faerie. The Second novel, The Sword of Kings, was published in 2010.A trained vocalist and musician, Beil graduated from Millersville University in 1993 with a Bachelor of Arts in Music. He pursued musical theater in his twenties, appearing in productions such as Cabaret, Oklahoma, Some Like It Hot, and Jesus Christ Superstar. He previously sang with the holiday a cappella group, Occasional Singers. Until the end of 2015, he was the keyboardist of the popular east coast cover band HyJinx (aka Lovely Rita). He has since reunited with his very first band, The Rockadudes.Beil has recently returned to acting and has appeared in local productions of 1984 (Martin), Heathers: The Musical (Ram’s Dad/Big Bud Dean/Coach Ripper), Jesus Christ Superstar (Pilate), Peter and the Starcatcher (Lord Aster), Garfield: The Musical With Cattitude! (Jon Arbuckle), Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (Robert Lemonteur), The Rocky Horror Show (Eddie/Dr. Scott), Chess (Freddie Trumper), Freaky Friday (Mike), and Pippin (Charles).

Book preview

The Sword of Kings

Volume Two of The Talisman War

Jason N. Beil

Copyright 2011 by Jason N. Beil

Smashwords Edition

Visit Jason Beil on the web at

http://www.facebook.com/talismanoffaerie

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Table of Contents

The Story So Far

Prologue: Rise of the Dead

Chapter 1: The Father of Nom

Chapter 2: Tale of the Mad King

Chapter 3: The Albino

Chapter 4: Brewing Storms

Chapter 5: Dark Alliance

Chapter 6: Wynd

Chapter 7: The Beggar and the Assassin

Chapter 8: The Misadventures of Wivslock and Andrus

Chapter 9: The Dead Walkers

Chapter 10: A New Threat

Chapter 11: Mallis Farr

Chapter 12: The Bridge

Chapter 13: A Message Delivered

Chapter 14: The Lair of Razzyn Kane

Chapter 15: Homecoming

Chapter 16: The Curse

Chapter 17: Crisis in Fairhaven

Chapter 18: The Dungeon

Chapter 19: Faces of Evil

Chapter 20: The Tides of War

Chapter 21: The Execution of Lorn du Carren

Chapter 22: Convergence

Chapter 23: Mad God’s Rage

Chapter 24: Reunions

Epilogue: Shadows Rising

The Story So Far

The work you hold in your hands is the second volume in The Talisman War trilogy. The first volume, entitled The Talisman of Faerie, tells the story of Alec Mason, a young baker’s apprentice who discovers a magic amulet known as the Talisman of Unity. The Talisman was created in ancient times by the Fairies, and it enabled the King of Faerie to unify his people and forge them into a mighty race. In a time of war, the Talisman was lost, and it remains lost until Alec runs across it seemingly by chance. At the same time, Alec discovers a gold ring and a circular gold headpiece. His friend Sarah takes the ring, and her mother Ara takes the circlet.

Alec does not suspect that his amulet is a talisman of powerful magic, nor does he suspect there are men who might covet it. One such man is Salin Urdrokk, a powerful sorcerer who desires to use the Talisman to enslave the Fairies. To discover its whereabouts, Salin visits his master Vorik Seth, an evil being of godlike power who lives in the desert wasteland of Mul Kytuer. Salin bargains with his master for information regarding the Talisman, and the Seth sends him to the far-away kingdom of Tyridan, where Alec resides.

In the guise of a collector of art, Salin approaches Alec and offers to buy the Talisman from him. Alec agrees, but before he can deliver the Talisman, a hermit named Michael confronts him and warns him against the sorcerer. Alec does not believe Michael’s warning, but nevertheless delays in taking the Talisman to Salin. The sorcerer is infuriated, thinking Alec has changed his mind, and goes on a rampage through the town in search of Alec and the Talisman. Salin slays Alec’s guardians, and threatens to kill other people Alec cares about unless he gets what he wants.

Alec, learning of Salin’s threat, decides to flee the town with his two friends, Sarah and Kraig. Sarah is devastated, for she believes her mother Ara has been killed in Salin’s attack. Alec leads his friends into the Northwood, deciding to look for Michael’s hut. They find the hermit and beg for his help. Michael reluctantly agrees to help them flee to the city of Bordonhold, where they might find safety.

Along the way, Michael tells them Salin’s history. Centuries ago, Salin was a noble knight, the champion of the High King of Eglak. But Vorik Seth promised Salin power and immortality if he would betray his King. Salin was seduced by Vorik’s promises, and he led the King’s army into an ambush. The entire army would have been slaughtered if not for the intervention of the great magicians known as the Three. Vor, the First of the Three, known as the Magus, was the leader, and the most powerful in magic. Nul, the Second of the Three, called the Wizard, was the wisest. Siv, the Third of the Three, named the Enchanter, was the most dedicated in the fight against evil. Together, they foiled Salin’s ambush and saved the greater part of the King’s army.

Salin escaped to Vorik’s tower and learned the ways of sorcery. In time, he became Vorik’s greatest general, and he conquered many kingdoms in his master’s name. He became virtually immortal, and he grew in power until even the Three dared not challenge him.

After finishing his story, Michael leads Alec and the others deeper into the woods where they are attacked by wolves. The wolves surround them, but somehow Sarah generates a burst of fire that consumes the animals. Michael is stunned, believing her to be what he calls a Shaper, someone who can wield magic. But in reality the fire came from the gold ring she wears, the ring Alec found along with the Talisman. Michael explains it is a Rage Ring, a Faerie artifact that can create fire when the wearer experiences strong emotions. Sarah has the power to use it, but since she does not have the skill or wisdom to control it, it is very dangerous.

Michael takes them to his friend Horren’s home, where he believes they can rest safely for the night. Horren is an Addin, a twelve-foot tall giant who guards the woodlands. Horren grants them sanctuary and gives them each a gift when they depart. To Alec he grants a silver chest, which casts light when opened. To Sarah he grants a small glass vial, which Horren claims contains a woodland spirit that will help her in her time of greatest need. To Kraig he gives a battle-axe so that the muscular youth can better defend his companions. And to Michael he gives a mysterious book, which he hopes will restore Michael’s faith and his desire to fight evil.

Nearly a week later, they reach the banks of the Fourpoints River, which they must cross to get to Bordonhold. There are no bridges nearby, but Michael finds a place where the water is only waist-deep. While crossing, they are attacked by a band of goblins. They defend themselves, but it seems hopeless until a tall warrior comes to their aid. He is Tor, an expert swordsman and bowman, who finishes off their attackers. He offers to escort them to Bordonhold, and they accept.

Tor, however, is not what he seems. He is an agent of Salin, and when they camp for the night, he tries to take the Talisman. He uses a mind control spell called the Charin-ta to make the group more trusting, and they sleep peacefully. But Alec awakens and opens Horren’s silver chest, releasing its light and blinding Tor. Tor escapes into the night, without the Talisman.

After seven days of traveling through the forest, they arrive at Bordonhold. Michael leaves his young companions at an inn and goes to visit a former acquaintance, Shad Flynt. He hopes Shad will be able to escort the group to Faerie, where they will be safe from Salin. But when he finds Shad, he realizes the old man has become feeble, not fit for travel. Shad recommends they contact Lorn, a warrior he has befriended, whom he claims is a great swordsman and guide. There is one problem, however: Lorn is a drunk who has fallen into despair and self-pity.

Reluctantly, the travelers accept Lorn as their guide. Soon after leaving town, they walk into a second goblin ambush. At first, Lorn is afraid to fight, but when Sarah calls him a coward, he overcomes his fear and slays the leader of the goblin band. Together, the group manages to kill the rest of them.

Elsewhere, Sarah’s mother, Ara, has survived Salin’s assault. She was wearing the gold circlet Alec discovered with the Talisman, and the circlet protected her from Salin’s fire. She has enlisted the aid of Landyn, a worldly minstrel, and two trackers, Kari du Sharrel and Jinn Alyndra. Her intention is to track Sarah and make sure the girl is alive and well, and to find the means to protect her, if need be.

Kari and Jinn pick up Sarah’s trail, which leads through the woods to Horren’s home. Horren greets them, and immediately recognizes Kari and Jinn for what they truly are: Fairies. He bows before them, for in olden times, the Addins served the Fair Folk. He joins their group, and together, the five of them continue to track Sarah, Alec, and the others.

Meanwhile, Alec’s group enters a desolate region known as the Plains of Naar. A rainstorm falls across the plain, and they find shelter in an abandoned village. An old man named Druga enters their shelter, and they question him. He explains that an evil spirit known as the Ravager has been attacking the villages of Naar, slaughtering everyone. He alone survived the assault on this village. He does not know why he was allowed to live, but Michael has an idea. Michael says that such spirits as the Ravager need to use a host body, and that Druga was probably the Ravager’s last host.

It turns out that Michael is right. The Ravager, still residing within Druga, takes control of the old man’s body and attacks. He crates a ball of fire and launches it at Alec. But Lorn steps in front of Alec and takes the full brunt of the attack. Miraculously, he does not burn. In fact, to Alec’s surprise, the magical flame does not hurt Lorn at all!

The battle continues until the door bursts open and a new threat appears. Salin has finally caught up to them. Caught between the Ravager and Salin himself, things look hopeless. But the Ravager, coveting Salin’s power, tries to possess him. The two fight each other, forgetting their former prey. Alec and the others take the opportunity to flee.

But Salin is not alone. He is accompanied by Tor, a group of ogres, and two sisters—an assassin named Stiletta, and an ice sorceress called Gwendolyn. When Salin manages to cast the Ravager from his mind and burn the host body, he and his company resume their pursuit.

Michael and Lorn hope to lose Salin in the Gravescorn Mountains to the north. However, as they near the Gravescorn, they see a horde of Salin’s ogres leaping down the mountain face. The only escape is to enter the ancient Tomb of Faryn-Gehnah, where the Fairies once buried their dead. They reach the tomb just ahead of Salin, and, once inside, engage its ancient locks. Salin is locked out, but they are locked in. Their only escape is to travel through the tomb, under the Gravescorn, and emerge through the northern gates.

The tomb is cursed. Long ago the power of Vorik Seth infected the tomb, and now its dead walk. In a large burial chamber, undead creatures rise from their coffins and assault the group. They flee, but in the chaos of battle they become separated. Alec, Sarah, and Lorn run down one corridor, while Kraig and Michael escape down another. The leader of the undead, a powerful mummified corpse, attacks Lorn, and while he fights it, Alec and Sarah flee. They become surrounded, and are once again saved by Sarah’s ring. However, she loses control of her fire, nearly killing herself and Alec. Alec, thinking quickly, dives into the fire and pulls the ring from Sarah’s finger. He resolves to keep the ring in his pocket, deeming it too dangerous to use again.

Meanwhile, Michael and Kraig meet a slumbering Fairy, a woman called Landrya. Though asleep, she can mentally communicate with them. They learn she is the last of the Tomb-Keepers, an order of Shapers sent to fight the curse. When the last of her kind fell, she entered a magical slumber. When the time comes that the curse can be broken, she will awaken. She warns Michael and Kraig that their friends are in danger, and gives them directions to the tomb’s exit.

The group is reunited, but the undead still pursue them. In the last burial chamber before the exit, the mummy and its minions surround them again. They press forward, but when the mummy sees the Talisman of Unity, he stops the attack and bows before Alec. He explains that he is Azdoch shah’Gozoth, the lord of the tomb’s undead. He has been waiting centuries for one to come bearing the Talisman, for that person, he claims, is the Cursebreaker. When Alec says he cannot break the curse, shah’Gozoth makes him take an oath to return one day when he gains the power to do so. As a symbol of good faith, the mummy gives Alec the magic sword Flame. Then he begs the group to flee, for he cannot hold the dead back any longer. With undead at their heels, they escape the tomb.

Lorn leads them into Ogrynwood, the forest home of the ogres. Eventually, they reach a bridge that crosses a great ravine. They are dismayed to discover the bridge is too damaged to cross. The only other bridge is in the center of an ogre village. Lorn reveals that he and his father once traveled through Ogrynwood and helped the ogres in a dispute with Faerie, so he might be able to convince the ogres to let the travelers pass unharmed.

In the village of Farch, Lorn bargains with the ogre chieftain. The chieftain initially agrees to let them cross his bridge, but when he notices Alec’s Talisman, he demands it. Word has reached him that Salin is after it, and Salin holds more sway with the ogres than Lorn does. A battle ensues, and Lorn and the others narrowly escape over the bridge, which collapses under the weight of the pursuing ogres.

Several days later, they arrive in Faerie. They are greeted by Vyrdan, who serves Lady Devra, governor of the village of Lehnwood. Vyrdan escorts them to Devra. She is a reader, someone with the talent to read one’s thoughts and intentions. She reads the companions, and realizes there is something strange about Alec. She is disturbed by what she sees, but she will not share her vision.

The following day, Devra escorts the group to Fairhaven, where reside Elyahdyn and Mahv, the King and Queen of Faerie. At the palace, Alec offers the Talisman to the King, whom he believes is its rightful owner. But the Talisman burns the King’s hand, rejecting him. It has bonded with Alec, and now only Alec can wield it. The King is furious, and he sends everyone away, save Alec and the Queen.

In a guarded room, Michael broods. He knows the Talisman can only bond with Fairies. He asks Devra what she saw in Alec. She tells him Alec has a vast, dark soul, full of a power she has never seen before. Alec is neither fully Fairy nor fully human. Michael, realizing what Alec is, demands to be taken to the King.

Michael reveals to King Elyahdyn that Alec is a hybrid of Fairy and human. This is unheard of, for the Fair Folk are forbidden to mate with humans. The offspring of such a union, it is said, would be evil, and have the ability to wield an unstoppable power called the Magic of Death. The King holds a council to decide what to do with Alec, and one of his chief advisors, Father Sang, insists that Alec be put to death. Michael argues that Alec should be trained in the ways of Shaping, saying that Alec’s power can be used to make Faerie stronger. His argument wins out, and Alec is adopted by the King, who accepts Alec as a citizen of Faerie.

In the weeks that follow, Lorn trains Alec in swordplay, and Michael trains him in the ways of Shaping. Michael is revealed to be Nul, the Second of the Three, whom the Fairies name Elsendarin. Long ago, he lost his faith in the One, the living spirit of the world, and thus lost his ability to Shape. But he can still teach, and he imparts his knowledge to Alec.

One night, Michael meets with his friend Elder Toros, and they discuss the book Horren gave him, The Book of the One. Michael lost his faith because he once had a vision in which Vorik Seth causes the end of the world. He always believed it was the purpose of the Three to stand against the Seth, and realizing they could not caused Michael to despair. The book states that the One provides for all eventualities. Michael wonders what the One has provided to be set against the Seth. Toros tells him that it if it is not the Three, there must be something else. Skeptical, Michael ponders his friend’s words.

Soon, there is a betrayal in Fairhaven. Salin has sent Lady Devra false visions of her King’s weakness, visions that prove Faerie will fall if the King is allowed to stay in power. Deluded, Devra organizes a revolt. She joins with Lord Shaper Shynogoth, leader of the dark Fairies who reside in the north, and his minion Gothra l’Uarach. Led by Shynogoth and Gothra, the dark Fairies attack Fairhaven, paving the way for Salin’s arrival.

With Tor, Stileta, and Gwendolyn, Salin invades Fairhaven. Tor teams with Shynogoth and attacks Michael, while Salin goes after Alec and the Talisman. Michael is nearly killed, but in a moment of revelation he is reborn in faith. He realizes it is Alec that the One has provided to stand against Vorik Seth, and with the realization his power returns. Using magic, he chases Tor away and slays Shynogoth.

Meanwhile, Devra realizes she has been tricked. She rushes to the palace to help the King and Queen reach safety, and is joined by Father Sang. But when they reach the King and Queen’s quarters, Sang attacks them with magic, revealing himself as a traitor. Lorn arrives, and, protected by his unique immunity to magic, slays Sang.

Salin finds Alec and takes the Talisman from him. He is about to slay Alec, when help arrives in the form of the Addin, Horren, who has come with Ara, Landyn, Kari, and Jinn. Salin and his minions flee Fairhaven, but they escape with the Talisman.

Sarah is overjoyed at being reunited with her mother. The invasion seems to be over, but with the Talisman in Salin’s hands, there is tension in Fairhaven. Salin is so powerful in sorcery that he can break the bond between Alec and the Talisman, and then use the Talisman to exert mind control over all the Fair Folk. It must be recaptured before he is able to master its magic and bend the Fairies to his will.

Michael, Lorn, Horren, and Kraig are selected to pursue Salin. Alec must go with them, for he can track the Talisman through his connection to it. King Elyahdyn sacrifices a portion of his spirit to conjure the Lyll Una, or Word of the One, a magic rod that can channel the power of the One. Only a Faerie King can create the Lyll Una, and doing so inflicts the King with a weakness from which, it is said, he will never fully recover.

During the journey, through magic, Alec experiences a vision about his past. His mother, Karlyn, once had a love affair with a Fairy named Martyn, and from this forbidden love Alec was born. Martyn was the brother of Kari du Sharrel, the tracker. Martyn, having broken the laws of Faerie, was condemned to death. While imprisoned, Martyn discovered Father Sang’s treachery. Sang had captured a sorcerer named Razzyn Kane, from whom he intended to gain information regarding the Talisman of Unity. Before Martyn could reveal his knowledge to the King, he was executed. Alec awakens from his dream of the past, knowing that Sang has paid for his crimes, but wondering what has become of Razzyn Kane.

While camping, Lorn reveals his true identity to his companions. He is Prince David Lorn du Carren, the second son of Breyden Mala du Carren, High King of Eglak. This explains Lorn’s immunity to magic, for that power is unique to the royal bloodline. Four years ago, Lorn was framed for treason by his older brother Thorne, and was exiled from Eglak for his supposed crimes. His exile crushed his spirit, but it was not until he heard that Thorne had married his love, the Lady Hannah, that he turned to drinking to numb his grief.

Meanwhile, Salin senses his enemies approaching. Using a mysterious tool known as a Sorcerer’s Chain, he conjures a deadly red storm, the Blood Mist. Salin uses the Chain with trepidation, for it is said that when the last link is expended, the soul of its wielder is delivered into the hands of Vorik Seth.

The Blood Mist descends upon Alec’s group, and within it red wraiths form and attack them. They do not have the power to fight the Mist, so Michael is forced to expend the energy of the Lyll Una to disburse it. They survive, but with the Lyll Una gone, they no longer have a weapon powerful enough to defeat Salin.

Back in Fairhaven, the dark Fairy Gothra l’Uarach, in hiding with her minions, plots another attack. Salin has commanded her to kill the King and Queen, for he knows if they fall, the other Fairies will be easier to control. With the sisters Gwendolyn and Stiletta and a force of dark Fairies, Gothra launches a second attack on the city. Gwendolyn creates an ice storm to keep the defenders at bay, while Stiletta enters the palace to assassinate the King and Queen. Sarah, with her Rage Ring, goes after Gwendolyn. Sarah engages the sorceress in a battle of fire and ice, and though she is badly wounded, she emerges victorious. With the ice storm gone, Fairhaven’s defenders regain their hope.

Alec and his group reach Salin’s stronghold, an ancient temple of Vorik Seth. They fight their way through a group of ogres to gain entry, but become separated. Horren stays behind to fight the ogres, and Lorn is intercepted by Tor. Kraig is badly wounded by a group of gray, mindless creatures. Only Alec and Michael are left to confront Salin in his inner sanctum.

Michael engages Salin in a contest of magic. Alec tries to help, but Salin’s power holds him back. Soon, both Salin and Michael’s magical energy is expended, and Michael passes out, exhausted. With no time to allow his magic to regenerate, Salin draws his sword and attacks Alec. Alec has had some training, but he is no match for someone who was once First Bladeknight of Eglak.

In Fairhaven, Stiletta fights through the palace defenders to attack the King and Queen. She is stopped by Ara and Landyn, who manage to slay her. Yet all over Fairhaven, the weaker-willed of the Fairies fall to Salin’s influence and turn against their people. Sarah is attacked by a group of mind-controlled Fairies, and only survives by releasing the woodland spirit Horren gave her. Elsewhere, Kari leads a group of defenders, saving what people she can from Salin’s attack. Her partner, Jinn, arrives with reinforcements in time to turn the tide of battle.

Back at the temple, Lorn kills Tor and rushes to help Horren against the ogres. In Salin’s chambers, Alec and Salin continue to fight. Salin disarms Alec and backs him into a corner. Knowing he will die if he cannot find his inner strength, Alec manages to Shape for the first time. He changes Salin’s sword into water, recovers his blade, and slays the sorcerer.

Alec and his party return to Fairhaven as heroes. Although the battle in Fairhaven has been won, Gothra l’Uarach and several of her minions have managed to escape. In a day of celebration dedicated to Nom, the Crafter of the Universe, the Fairies rejoice in their victory. Salin is dead, but they know their struggles against Vorik Seth have just begun.

In his tower, the Seth is not disturbed by Salin’s death. He has captured Siv, the Third of the Three, whose will he is trying to break. He shows Siv a vision of Vor, the First of the Three, who has apparently descended into madness. Siv is disturbed by the vision, and as he screams in impotent anger and frustration, volume one draws to a close.

Several months have passed, good reader, and now begins part two of our story….

Prologue: Rise of the Dead

Autumn had come to southern Ogrynwood. Vibrant leaves, red, yellow, and orange, rustled and twisted in the breeze. Towering trees shaded the leaf-strewn ground from the bright afternoon sun. A quiet beauty filled the woods, a subtle magic of the everyday sort.

Nothing like the enchantments of Faerie, thought Kari du Sharrel.

Faerie had its charms, to be sure, but Kari preferred the mundane world. After all, she had lived for over two decades among the humans in the tiny hamlet of Markway before returning to her homeland. She had become used to the absence of casual magic, and she had grown accustomed to doing without it. She felt more at home here, in the forest of the ogres, than in the lands of her own people.

She returned her gaze to the forest floor and examined the boot-print on the ground. It was barely detectable, and to the untrained eye it would have provided no information of worth. But Kari was among the greatest trackers of Faerie. To her the print was a font of knowledge. It was fresh, no more than a few hours old. The boot that made the print was worn, but there was no doubt it was dark Fairy design. Another print nearby confirmed what she had already known: the trail continued to head southward, toward Faryn-Gehnah.

Turning toward her companions, she said, I was right. She is going to the tomb.

Jinn Alyndra, the short, pale-skinned sprite who had been her companion during her years in Markway, laughed. To the tomb she goes, to treat with the dead! Oh what madness! What delight!

The three dark Fairies they traveled with did not share the sprite’s amusement. What could she possibly want there? asked Naroth, the dark Fairies’ commander. There are easier ways to cross the mountains.

"There are no easy ways to cross the Gravescorn, Kari answered, but trying to go through the tomb is pure madness."

Kari was not easily frightened, but the thought of the tomb made her skin prickle. For two centuries a curse had lain upon it, a dark power that caused the dead to stir. The Fair Folk had sent Shapers—Tomb Keepers, they were called—to try to break the curse and reclaim the ancient burial ground. The effort had failed: all but one of the Keepers had died, and the curse was as powerful as ever. Kari’s half-human nephew, Alec Mason, had told her of his harrowing journey through the tomb, so she knew from first-hand accounts the horrors that walked within.

Perhaps she is mad after all, said Naroth. So it is said among my people.

But you still believe she has a purpose. She does not simply flee your new Lord Shaper’s wrath.

She has a purpose. Naroth’s face revealed nothing, but Kari noticed his hand drifting toward his sword as he spoke of their quarry. Gothra l’Uarach is a dangerous woman. Whether driven by madness or reason, she must be stopped.

Madness has a smell, said Jinn, leaping to Kari’s side and squatting to sniff the boot-print. Aye. There be a hint of it here, but it’s nearly lost in other flavors. Death I smell. Evil. A rare treat, milady. He looked up and grinned. A rare treat indeed. All these years they had been friends, and Kari still didn’t understand the little imp’s delight in the unsavory aspects of their job.

Can you not control the sprite? said Naroth.

She turned to him as he headed toward the cluster of trees where they had secured their mounts. She looked at Jinn and then back to the dark Fairy.

No one can control a sprite.

Jinn burst out laughing.

They rode southward through the woods. Kari occasionally dismounted to examine Gothra’s tracks, but it was hardly necessary. It was obvious where she was headed. Kari’s party would reach the gates of Faryn-Gehnah before nightfall, and Gothra would be waiting for them there. Or she would have entered the tomb, in which case she was probably a dead woman.

Kari glanced over her shoulder at Naroth and his kinsmen. Like most of the Fair Folk, Kari had always been distrustful of their northern neighbors, the dark Fairies. But in her new capacity as trade ambassador to Northern Faerie, she was often among them. She had learned quickly, much to her surprise, that they were not so different from her own people. They were dour, certainly, and had a strange code of honor she could not fully grasp, but they were not, as a race, evil. Some, like Gothra and the late Lord Shaper Shynogoth, had been seduced into serving Vorik Seth by the vile sorcerer Salin Urdrokk. Others had been forced to Salin’s will when he controlled the Talisman of Unity. But most were loyal, in their own way, to the King of Faerie.

Kari, too, was loyal, but for reasons of her own she preferred to serve her King from afar. So Kari had entered the service of Lady Devra in Lehnwood, a town almost a day’s ride from the King’s palace in Fairhaven. In Lehnwood she had grown close to the captain of Devra’s guard, Lord Vyrdan. She smiled thinking of him, the only man who had been able to break through her cold exterior and warm her heart.

But Vyrdan was far away with duties of his own. Her duty was here. As an ambassador, she had been with the Dark Folk when Gothra had turned against her people. Gothra had broken into the Lord Shaper’s dungeon, slain several guards, and freed a prisoner. The Dark Folk would not tell Kari the name of this prisoner, but apparently he was a sorcerer of some power, a sorcerer who long ago had served Salin. She had heard them refer to him as the albino.

Why Gothra had freed this albino was no clearer than why she was headed for the tomb. But whatever the reason, Gothra and her sorcerer had parted ways somewhere in Faerie. One group had pursued the sorcerer, while a second, led by Naroth and Kari, had followed Gothra. It had been a long chase, for Gothra had traveled far to the west before cutting southeastward toward the tomb, presumably to avoid the vast chasm that split Ogrynwood in two. She had begun her journey on horseback, but had ridden so hard without stopping that her mount had perished some days ago. Kari shook her head, wondering how any Fairy, dark or fair, could abuse one of their horses so.

Kari dismounted once more to examine the trail. Jinn jumped down from his pony and put his nose to the ground, sniffing loudly.

She is very close, said Kari. These tracks are but minutes old.

Fresh as daisies, Jinn added with a wide, toothy grin.

We are at the edge of the forest, said Naroth. The walls of the Gravescorn, and the tomb, lie just beyond.

Come on. Kari lowered her voice to a whisper. Let us leave our mounts here. I think a stealthy approach would be best.

She could move quietly when she had to, and so could Jinn, but her gray-skinned companions were so silent she had to look back to make sure they were following. Even the leaves under their feet barely crunched as they passed. Her lip curled upward in a slight grin of admiration.

They reached the forest’s edge. When she saw Gothra standing a little more than a stone’s throw away, she motioned for the others to get down. Quietly, they crouched to the ground, keeping to the trees and underbrush.

We should take her unawares, said Naroth.

Not yet, answered Kari. I want to see what she is doing.

Gothra l’Uarach stood with her back to the trees, half-way up the stony foothills that led to the sheer face of the mountain. Beyond her, Kari could just make out a massive gate set into the mountain wall. Moss, grass, and a few strangled trees grew through the rocky earth surrounding the gate, and vines entwined its iron bars. Gothra stood still as a post, rigidly facing the gate of Faryn-Gehnah.

They waited several minutes, but Gothra did nothing. Kari could feel Naroth’s tension, could sense that this waiting was making him anxious. She decided it was time to move in on Gothra and she opened her mouth to say so, but she closed it again when she heard the grinding clangor of metal against stone. The gate was opening.

Things were pushing it open. Kari’s jaw dropped as more things poured from the gates, leaving the cold darkness of the tomb to enter the light of day. They were dead things, creatures of dry bone and monsters of necrotic flesh. Some wore rags, some wore scraps of armor, and some were naked. A dim red light burned in their eyes. They walked, shuffled, crawled, and dragged themselves over the rocks toward Gothra. Still the dark Fairy woman did not move.

The undead! gasped one of Naroth’s companions.

This cannot be, said Naroth. They cannot leave the tomb!

Kari brought her hand to her open mouth. Naroth was right. The curse gave the corpses a semblance of life, but the power of the curse did not exist outside the tomb. The undead couldn’t leave it. It was impossible!

And yet it was happening.

The corpses murmured and groaned, and soon dozens of them clustered before Gothra. Then, as one, they fell silent and stood utterly still. The light in their eyes briefly went gray and then burned brighter then before. They began to speak with one voice, a chorus chanting in unison. The dry, dusty sound was unlike anything Kari had ever heard, and she gripped her arms and shivered. Despite the distance, she had no trouble making out what they were saying.

Gothra l’Uarach. You have done much. You have come far. You have heard our master’s call and have come to do his bidding.

Gothra’s reply was nearly too quiet to be understood, but Kari used her magical skill at Shaping air to allow the dark Fairy’s voice to travel from the foot-hills to the forest’s edge.

Yes. I have heard a voice whispering to me. What…who…has led me here?

Surely you know who it is you serve, replied the dead. Who entered your dreams? Who drove you to seek us out in this place of decay and hate?

My dreams, answered Gothra, holding her head in her hands. They drove me to free the albino. They drove me to come here. But they were only dreams. I…I am going mad.

Perhaps, said the dead. But your madness has a name. Say it, Gothra.

A long pause hung in the air. Kari held her breath. She knew what was coming. She knew what Gothra would say.

Vorik Seth. My master is Vorik Seth.

Vorik Seth. The name from the lips of the dead sounded like a hiss.

"But…but what are you?"

"We…I…am the new master of this tomb. I…we…I…control these creatures now. My power is vast. I lend it the tomb. To the curse. They…we…are no longer confined to this place. We…will march upon the living. In the service of Vorik Seth."

To…to what end? asked Gothra, her voice trembling.

It is not your concern. You serve a different purpose.

Purpose? I have failed in my purpose. I thought I was here to be punished. I…I am no longer worthy of the Seth’s attention.

Kari almost lost her concentration, almost lost the thread of her Shaping, when the undead hissed together in what seemed like amusement. Nor was Salin Urdrokk, they chortled. He was an overconfident fool. Powerful, yes. The dead paused, and their heads lowered in a synchronized motion. Kari thought they looked troubled by some thought or memory. "Very powerful. Yet he is gone, and I survive. He is dead, but he served his purpose…as you will serve yours."

I…I would serve the Seth as I served Salin. I would redeem myself in his eyes. If only…if only I knew how.

We will teach you, Gothra, hissed the dead, moving to surround her. "I will teach you."

What is this? whispered Naroth, leaning close to Kari’s ear. What are they doing?

I have no idea, she said.

Kari turned to look at Jinn. For once, he seemed to be taking no pleasure in what others found disturbing.

The creatures from the tomb leapt at Gothra and pulled her down. For a moment she struggled, but then she fell still, as if accepting her fate. Some of the dead held her arms and legs, kept her flat on the ground, while others stood around them, quietly observing.

Two more creatures emerged from the tomb. One was a tall, slender skeleton, and in its hands it held a long, glittering dagger. The other was taller still, broad in the shoulders and dressed in silver robes. A gold crown rested upon its mummified skull. This creature was different from the others, better preserved, and it emanated a strength that Kari could perceive. But it moved stiffly, just like the others, and the light in its eyes pulsed in the same steady rhythm. Whatever foul spirit used the lesser undead as puppets also controlled this one.

In its hands, the mummy carried a long, heavy chain with thick links of black metal. Something about the chain made Kari feel ill. To her Shaper’s senses, it emanated something unclean. She could taste it: metallic, slick, oily, and altogether foul. But it was powerful. It was immensely powerful.

The tall skeleton and the mummy walked to Gothra’s prone form. Then, without ceremony, the skeleton plunged its dagger into her chest. Kari flinched as Gothra’s screams lanced the air. The skeleton drew the knife down Gothra’s stomach, and blood welled from the cut in pulsating bursts. Other dead creatures reached into the cut and pulled her organs out, throwing them to the ground where they landed with wet, splattering sounds.

Oh, gods, whispered Kari. Why…?

What madness is this? exclaimed Naroth.

Jinn watched, entranced, but made no comment.

Gothra was still screaming. Her insides were practically hollowed out, but still she went on screaming. How was it possible?

By the One, Kari thought, she should be dead. She must be dead!

But Gothra went on thrashing and howling. When the dead moved away from her, she pushed herself to her knees and looked down at her ruined stomach, at her hollow chest. Kari heard the anguish and despair in Gothra’s screams, saw the horror in her bulging eyes.

The Sorcerer’s Chain, said the undead as the mummy let his burden clatter to the ground in front of her. You must carry it inside you. You must carry it to Eglak.

Screaming, she reached out with a blood-covered hand and grabbed the chain. With its links grasped in her fist, she reached into the torn cavity had had been her stomach and began to coil the chain around her spine. Kari, in horrified silence, watched the woman work.

By the Seth! screamed Gothra. Agony and pleasure fought for dominance on the dark woman’s face. "Is this what power is? Is this what life is?" Her words degenerated to gibberish, and laughter punctuated her screams and sobs.

The chain was long, but somehow it all fit inside her. Its weight pulled her down to the ground. She was laughing maniacally now, unable to move, unable to control herself.

Enough! roared the dead. As if calmed by some spell, the dark Fairy fell silent. Be at peace, Gothra. By rights you should be dead, but the mercy of the Seth grants you life, after a fashion. The chain’s power will heal and sustain you. When you are whole, you will carry the chain within you to the land of Eglak. You will go before the High King and speak to him a message from Vorik Seth.

What…what message?

Instead of answering, the dead paused. Together, their heads swiveled toward the forest. Kari froze. They were looking directly at her.

You have been followed.

I know, said Gothra.

No matter, said the dead. No matter at all.

A flurry of movement from above drew Kari’s attention. Branches snapped and leaves tore free as shadowy figures dropped from perches high in the trees. Skeletal claws reached toward Kari and her companions. She barely had time to shout a warning before the shadow-things landed upon the ground and sprung forward to attack.

Kari’s sword leapt from its sheath, glittering in the sunlight. The arcing blade severed the nearest creature’s arm, but the thing continued to approach, undaunted. She slashed at it a second time and sent its head tumbling to the ground. It fell, but two more stood behind it, ready to take its place.

She could hear Naroth and his companions behind her, shouting and drawing steel. From the heavy footfalls and crunching leaves, she guessed a dozen or more of the shadow-things surrounded them.

She lunged forward and plunged her sword into an undead chest. The thing moaned and stumbled backwards until it slid free of her blade, but it did not fall. Her second attacker raked its claws across her chest, cutting through the hard leather armor that should have protected her. Blood welled through the cuts. She screamed and fell back.

More horrors closed in, surrounding her. She took a deep breath and focused her mind, calling on her years of training to remain calm in the midst of chaos. Kari Shaped. Leaves whipped through the air, carried by the hurricane force of her will. She pushed outward, and her assailants tumbled away in the raging wind.

Kari had won a moment to catch her breath, but that was all. Already the undead were regaining their feet. Beyond them, her companions fought bravely, but one of the dark Fairies had already fallen. Naroth stood back-to-back with his remaining soldier, swinging at the walking corpses. Jinn sprung from one undead to the next, tearing open their necks with his sharp fangs or raking them with his long claws. Yet it was a losing battle. The undead, even when slashed or dismembered or eviscerated, kept clawing their way back into the battle.

Kari looked to the corpse she had beheaded. It lay still.

They can be destroyed. Without their heads, they cannot…

The leaves crunched behind her. She twisted, swinging her blade in a wide arc. The sword cut deeply into an undead chest, but the creature’s red eyes did not dim. A dark, misty shadow surrounded it, and when Kari pulled her sword from its rotted chest, the shadow swirled round the cut, knitting it back together. The thing lurched toward her again, its claws raking the air.

What dark magic is this?

Alec had not mentioned this shadowy aura when he had spoken of his encounters with these creatures. Some power was protecting them now, healing them, granting them strength. They could leave the tomb. They could recover from almost any wound. What else could these unholy revenants do?

Kari did not wish to find out. As they leapt at her, she raised her sword and shouted. She slashed time and again, aiming each blow at an undead neck. Heads flew, and fallen corpses piled around her. North of her, she caught a glimpse of Naroth fighting alone, his last companion dead at his feet. He was surrounded and desperate, but she could do nothing for him. She heard Jinn laughing somewhere in the chaos, but she could not see him.

Kari was breathing heavily now, and her heart was thundering too quickly beneath her breast. She danced through a wave of revenants, felling one after another, but she was nearly at the end of her endurance. She churned the wind into a gale, forcing her attackers back. But her magic could only hold them at bay for a moment, and her sword was becoming too heavy to lift.

The dead surrounded her, but instead of pressing their advantage, they paused. Into their midst walked Gothra l’Uarach, her steel eyes locked on Kari. The dark Fairy strode toward the tracker, her chin raised and her expression dire. She bore no wound and did not seem to be in pain. Had she really been cut open moments before? Had her apparent evisceration been some sort of a trick?

You are in my way, woman, she said. Stand aside.

You…you should be dead! Kari gasped.

"I am dead. Her voice, icy as her eyes, rooted Kari to the spot. But that will not stop me from delivering my message to the High King of Eglak."

The dark woman had a power of command Kari could not resist. Terrified, she moved to the side and stood immobile as Gothra strode by her. In a moment, Gothra was gone, and the undead, as if waking up, closed inward.

Kari, able to move again, lashed out with blade and magic, her unrelenting determination carrying her past the point of exhaustion. Corpses, relieved of their heads, fell around her as she battered still others with funnels of wind. But at last she fell to her knees, unable to do anything but wait for the killing blow.

A feral cry cut the air, and Jinn, his body twisted into his terrible battle-shape, leapt upon the back of the creature nearest Kari. With tooth and claw he tore the thing’s head from its body and tossed it into the air. Then he jumped to Kari’s side, gore dripping from his long fangs.

Be heartened, milady! he cried. There be plenty for both of us!

His presence lifted her spirits, and she almost smiled as she rose to her full height. As he leapt left, she struck right, and the undead gave way before them. She heard the sprite’s gleeful laughter, heard his claws ripping through flesh and shattering brittle bone. She kept her back to him, widening the circle around them. Another minute to two they fought, an eternity to her battle-tuned senses, but at last they had cleared a path northward, away from the tomb.

Jinn! Follow!

Without turning to make sure he was there, Kari ran as fast as her exhaustion allowed. Her breath came in heaving gulps. The footfalls of a dozen or so pursuers echoed behind her. Fatigue had nearly overwhelmed her, and soon her flight slowed to a plodding gait. She thought of the horses, but knew she could not reach them before the undead caught her. Knowing she could not escape, she turned to face her pursuers.

A cluster of corpses ran at her. She tried to Shape, but she could not muster the will. She lifted her sword, accepting her fate with cold determination.

Run, milady!

Leaping through the air from somewhere behind the small horde, Jinn landed among the creatures. They turned to surround him, bending over him and clawing at his small form.

Jinn!

By the One…he will be torn apart!

Go! he cried. Warn them! Warn Faerie!

She heard him fighting for his life, saw the occasional flash of claw or fang. She should help him, but—

More revenants were coming through the trees. If she tried to save him, they would both be killed. Naroth was probably already dead. There would be no one left to warn Faerie about the undead. No one left to stop Gothra.

"Oh, Jinn!"

"Go!" His last command was strangled and forced.

She ran northward. Behind her, she heard the sprite choke on a final, chilling scream. She raced ahead, her iron heart breaking and her eyes filling with tears.

Keep going, Kari. They must be told. They must be warned!

With the undead at her heels, Kari ran.

Far to the south, beyond the land men called the Desolation, a boy emerged from a cave. He had lived in the cave all his life. He had not minded his confinement, for he’d had company there, and light. Warmth he’d had too, and sustenance, and knowledge.

He looked around. It was bright, and there were tall trees all around him. The sound of running water echoed in a valley to the east. That was where the ancient people lived, he remembered. But his business was not with them. No…he had to travel far, far, to the north, beyond Raven’s End, beyond the Desolation, beyond the kingdoms of humanity. In the realm of Faerie dwelt the one he sought.

He smiled. He knew more about the world than even the oldest, wisest of men, but he had never seen the world. Had never heard or smelled or felt it. Knowing and experiencing were two very different things. He took a deep breath, relishing the earthy, wet smells of the rainforest. He listened to the cries of the exotic birds overhead, watched them flutter amongst the leaves. He laughed as a monkey jumped from one tree to another, its long, gangly arms wrapping around a thick branch.

Oh, life was rich! He felt a brief pang of regret, knowing his time in the world would not be long. But he would not waste his opportunity. He would relish every minute, every second of his freedom. There were people to be met, lands to be traveled, food to be eaten, wine to be savored…adventure to be had.

He had been allowed to leave the cave because a shepherd had awoken. It had been centuries—millennia—since such a thing had happened, since a being of nearly god-like power had risen in the mortal realms. The boy tilted his head, remembering his lessons. This new shepherd would be frightened of his own power. He would need guidance. It was the boy’s duty to advise the shepherd, to explain the necessity of the soul-gate, the potency of death magic, the light within the blackness of his soul. The boy reflected on the paradox of the shepherd: light inside shadow, good within evil.

Few still retained the lore of the shepherds. The ancient ones of the valley knew much that their cousins in the north had long forgotten. The boy knew still more, but he also knew he could not reveal everything to the shepherd. Not all at once. Knowledge gained too quickly could be dangerous—even self-destructive. There might not be enough time, though, to teach the shepherd all he must learn. The boy had other tasks, after all. Perhaps these tasks would take precedence over his primary purpose; in fact, with things as they were, it was likely.

His first task was simply to deliver a message. There were three with whom he had been commanded to speak: a Shaper called Nul, the King of Faerie, and, of course, the shepherd himself. He would have to travel quickly. If he arrived too late, his message would be moot.

For every shepherd, there had been a boy. But the lessons the boys tried to teach had been ignored, and the shepherds had abandoned, even turned against, their flock. This time, the boy told himself, it would be different. This time, things would be done correctly. His master had learned from past mistakes. It was time to fix the world.

The boy took a deep breath and the wind stirred around him. He raised his arms and looked skyward. He smiled, knowing he must begin his journey at once. The shepherd, wielder of the Magic of Death, awaited him in the land of the Fair Folk.

Alec Mason awaited him in Faerie.

The boy felt the wind on his face, and then he was the wind, and then he was gone.

Chapter One: The Father of Nom

Lorn du Carren rarely dreamed, and he almost never dreamed of his past. But as the curtains of his bedchamber window fluttered in the cool autumn breeze, Lorn, clutching his blanket and muttering under his breath, fell into a dream of long ago.

The training hall smelled of sweat and leather. Spots of blood stained the wooden floor and walls despite the servants’ best attempts at scrubbing them clean. Dust motes floated in the light of the mid-morning sun, which streamed in from open windows set high in the walls. The room, usually filled with the noise of men sparring or practicing on wooden dummies, was quiet and still.

Lorn, aged thirteen years, leaned against the door. His brother Thorne, two years his elder, stood beside him, smiling as their father demonstrated an advanced Bladeknight form. The High King, Breyden du Carren—muscular, graceful, wise, and charismatic—was in his early forties. As a warrior, he was equaled only by his own Bladeknights. He moved gracefully through the form, effortlessly swinging and thrusting his heavy two-handed sword. When he finished, he lowered his blade and strode to the edge of the training-hall, where a squire waited with a towel. Wiping his brow, he approached his sons.

So, how do I compare to your trainers, boys?

Lorn smiled. You are still the best swordsman in the kingdom, father.

I doubt it, said the King. But my thanks. I fear you will surpass me soon enough, Lorn.

Thorne looked at his brother and sighed. Lorn is progressing by leaps and bounds, at least according to Karl Darkmire. I am still floundering, I’m afraid.

No, you are doing well! said Lorn.

Thorne, my lad. The King put his hand on his eldest son’s shoulder. Each of us has our strengths. You must one day be King, and there is much more to being King than swinging a sword. Lorn does not have the pressures you must face. He need not learn all the things you must learn. He has more time to focus on the arts of war.

Thank Lars, said Lorn, grinning. All that history, etiquette, and court politics rubbish puts me to sleep!

Thorne shot his brother an evil look. Lorn smiled back at him.

As for my own skill, said Breyden, well, I always wonder how much of it I have to attribute to the magic of my sword.

He looked at his weapon, the fabled Sword of Kings, and raised it into the air. Light glimmered on the pristine, rune-graven blade. Lorn looked at it with wide eyes, wondering what strange powers those runes bound within.

Come, walk with me, said their father, heading toward the doors. Lorn and his brother fell in beside the King, and soon they were walking in the gardens outside the palace. Guards and noblemen bowed as they passed, and the King nodded in response. They walked unspeaking for a time, enjoying the fine spring weather, until Thorne broke the silence.

Father, do you believe the legend of the Sword of Kings?

Legend? questioned Lorn. He was not aware of any story about the ancestral weapon of his family. What legend?

Breyden smiled at his sons. Ah, Lorn, I wish you would pay as much attention to your history lessons as you do your martial training. Turning to Thorne, he said, Whether or not I believe the legend is a complicated question. One must interpret the old stories…rarely can they be taken literally. But the sword is most definitely special. It has certain qualities…certain powers.

Many swords have powers, said Thorne. The weapons of Faerie are particularly—

No. The Sword of Kings is different.

Lorn was becoming impatient. What is this legend, Father?

Breyden sighed, but the twinkle in his eye showed he did not mind indulging his younger son’s curiosity. He pointed toward a shady spot under a tree, and the three men sat down in the grass beneath its spreading boughs. With his legs crossed and the sword on the ground before him, the King began his story.

The dream shifted, as dreams often do, and Lorn was no longer under the tree with his father and brother. Instead, he witnessed the story his father told, as if watching, disembodied, from afar.

Long ago, spoke the voice of King Breyden, before the coming of humankind, war raged in the heavens. The sky shook as the servants of the Crafter fought rebel gods, those who in their greed and jealously had turned to evil ways. The Crafter’s champion was Lars, the god of war and strength. His enemy was Al-Sairdoth, whose domains were blood and death. The war had come down to a final battle, a titanic struggle between the two champions. Al-Sairdoth was ruthless and brutal, but in the end Lars overpowered him, thrusting his heaven-forged sword through his enemy’s heart. As Al-Sairdoth twisted on the blade, spitting blood, Lars lifted him into the air and cast him from the heavens. Al-Sairdoth tumbled through the formless void and plunged into a star-filled sky, the sword still impaling his wretched heart. Those who observed the heavens that night might have seen a fiery streak above, a blazing star falling to earth. The star plummeted, smashing the peak off a mountain, crashing to the ground. The earth quaked, and smoke rose from the vast crater left by the god’s fall.

Days passed before the primitive ancestors of the Fair Folk became brave enough to approach the crater, and when they did, all they found was a glittering rune-sword. They were in awe of the blade, for they sensed its power, and they guessed its otherworldly origins. Reverently they took it to a place of honor, enshrining it so their people could forever bear witness to the glory of the heavens.

But where, then, was Al-Sairdoth? The dark god had survived his fall, and had stalked off to a remote corner of the world to lick his wounds. Tied as he was to the mortal world, his power was much reduced, but he was still a god. The celestial might that remained to him dwarfed even the greatest magic of Fairy or Seth, and he soon began to exert his influence over the world. He gained worshippers and crushed those who opposed him. He demanded blood sacrifices and reveled in death and murder. The world became dark under his dominion.

But then the race of Seths, who in those days were still numerous, joined together for the first and last time in history to oppose a common foe. They were tyrants, and they hated each other, but this usurper they hated more. And so they fought him, bringing to bare all the magics and fires at their disposal, and at the last they brought him low. But Al-Sairdoth was a god, a true immortal, and he could not be destroyed. So the Seths, through their dire rituals, opened a doorway to the Void, a place outside space and time, from which the dark god could never return. There they imprisoned him until the end of days.

But Al-Sairdoth’s story does not end there, for his fate is tied to the Sword of Kings. It is said that when Lars impaled him on that heavenly blade, a shard of Al-Sairdoth’s soul passed