The Rift was a power given only to the Grandmaster. A portal that could send a knight, as long as they were encased in their Sentinel armour, anywhere in the known world in a matter of moments. Arden’s mouth grew dry as his eyes traced the rippling lake of black that hung in the air, its green outer rim shimmering. It wasn’t fear that gripped him; it was reverence. To step through the Rift was to feel the touch of a god – the god that had pulled him from death’s door: Achyron. “Step forward, Brother Arden, Brother Lyrin.” Grandmaster Verathin moved to the side, allowing Arden and Lyrin to take
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