Knaak, Richard A. - Diablo 10 - Storm Of Light by Knaak Richard A

Author:Knaak, Richard A. [Knaak, Richard A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gallery Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Tyrael left Cullen and Thomas arguing over the details of the journal and the artifacts they had found, and slipped into the twilight. Nahr was nowhere to be seen, and he felt a twinge of guilt for what he had asked of the man. Reshaping an angelic blade took tremendous skill and energy and could be extremely dangerous.

But if he was right, the results would be worth the sacrifice.

The darkness was deeper than before, and the cold air from the gulf made him draw his robes closer around him. The weapon Nahr had reforged was still warm in Tyrael’s grasp. He had asked the commander to make these alterations for Jacob’s sake; it would become a focal point for him, a way to harness his inner strength. But the challenges that lay ahead would take more to overcome than this. They were closer to finding the nephalem stronghold than ever, but what then? Once they reached the lost city, the true test would begin. They would have to face the Heavens themselves, eight mortals against an army of angels.

If they got that far. None of them had spoken much about what had happened on the mountain. But Tyrael knew Imperius and the Sicarai would not stop. The destroyer would be back and would not be taken by surprise again. The real question, Tyrael thought as he made his way to a quiet spot behind the shop, was how the Sicarai and the demon horde had found them in the first place. Had they been tracked ever since they left Tristram? Were the so-called phantoms behind it? And how were they connected to the stone?

He thought about Jacob’s puckered wound from the dark-winged creature’s touch. He has been marked . . .

A breeze rustled through the trees that lined the edges of Nahr’s property. Beyond lay the deeper forest that rose into the mountains, and beyond that lay Westmarch, several days’ hard travel to the west. Anything could be hidden in that forest. With slightly trembling fingers, Tyrael laid the wrapped weapon at his feet and removed Chalad’ar from the interior pocket of his robes. He was out of view of anyone who might emerge from the shop or Nahr’s home, away from the others, and there was time later to sleep. A strange and yet familiar desire stirred within him. The chalice would offer him satisfaction and understanding, a way to relieve the burden that had been placed on his shoulders.

But when he peered into Chalad’ar’s depths, that relief did not come. Instead, a wave of despair washed over him, more powerful than any he’d experienced before. The web of light strands encased him, running through his flesh and bringing with them the truth of what they faced; he saw clearly the end of their lives, one by one, as they were overcome with terror and the ache of violence and loss. Anger turned itself inward, and he saw his own weaknesses, his own failings laid bare. He was neither

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