The Legend of Asahiel: Book 02 - The Obsidian Key
your quest for the Sword all over again.”
    “I was successful, wasn’t I?”
    “Were you?” his friend challenged, pinning him again with those eyes. “And what of the cost? What of Diln? How will you feel if something like that were to happen again, here at Krynwall?”
    Torin tensed. Allion had assured him over and over again that he did not blame Torin for what had befallen their home village while he had led themoff in search of the one weapon that might allow them to defend it. But it hardly mattered what his friend said. Despite every attempt to rationalize the decision—then and now—Torin blamed himself, and was tortured every day with thoughts of what might have been had he acted differently. His Fason and others could say what they wished, but deep down, they all held him accountable.
    Allion must have recognized his darkening mood. “All I’m saying is, are you honestly willing to take that risk?”
    “Aren’t you the one who likes to trumpet duty over desire? I’d only be doing what has been asked of me.”
    Allion shook his head. “Too much is unknown. About this Darinor. About these Vandari.” Torin sighed, for his friend was already repeating his arguments, but Allion pressed on. “I have a bad feeling, a viper in my gut. Don’t do this.”
    Torin glared. “I guess I don’t see where I have a choice.”
    “Of course you do. It’s one we all have. Stop risking everything to change the world in one fell swoop, and work instead little by little, day by day, like everyone else. You were raised a cultivator, not a monarch, remember? Stay, and we’ll face together whatever dangers arise.”
    It was difficult to argue. Even if he found the Vandari, he had no guarantee they could or would agree to help. But there were times when one had to be guided by instinct rather than logic. Despite his own reservations, the gnawing sense was that he had to do this.
    “I don’t think Darinor will see it that way,” he said.
    “Then make him see it that way. Your duty is to your people, not some raving madman wandered in from the rain. And he’d have to be mad,” Allion hurried before Torin could cut him short, “not to see that there are too many responsibilities for you to leave behind.”
    “Those can be handled by someone else,” the king muttered.
    “And they will. Mark my words, if you leave now, Rogun will have usurped your throne by the time you return.”
    In this, at least, his Fason was probably correct. Allion had constantly chided him for giving the general too strong a voice on the ruling council. Torin had done so in an effort to placate the overbearing commander and quiet his objections. Instead, it had made him all the louder, giving him a platform from which to shout his agenda, allowing him to drive a wedge of dissent into the foundation of all that Torin hoped to accomplish. With Torin away, Rogun would move swiftly to wrest control of the kingdom from the Circle and its speaker.
    “Rogun will come around,” Torin replied, feigning confidence. “In the meantime, that’s why I need you to stay here as regent in my stead.”
    His friend’s eyes widened in shock. “Hah! There’s a fanciful dream, even for you.”
    “Come, Allion, you said it yourself. My mission means nothing if this city and its inhabitants are not kept safe until my return.”
    But Allion was shaking his head emphatically. “This is madness. Completeand unwarranted. But if you insist on leaving, you know I’ll follow, with or without your commission.”
    Torin scowled. He knew. It had happened before, hadn’t it? But Allion understood as well as he the challenges this land faced. Torin’s honeymoon as king was over. Expansionists from neighboring Partha, as well as nationalists within Alson, had already begun to question his authority. Few did so as openly as Rogun, unwilling to risk their political futures in debate against a man who was still deemed a hero by a majority of the populace. But the

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