Read Online Darkin: The Prophecy of the Key (The Darkin Saga Book 2) by Joseph Turkot - Free Book Online Page A

your journey north.”
    “I am surprised, I completely forgot I leave tomorrow. My whole body feels as if it’s melted!”
    “The water here is channeled up from deep within the earth. It has restorative properties—some say there’s Vapour in the spring, others say it’s Gaigas’s spirit flowing up from the core of the world,” she explained.
    Adacon thought about the mystery of the water he was bathing in, tranquilized by soft colors and warmth, and how it had traveled all the way from Gaigas to reach this very spring—like himself, a Welsprin.
    “This water and I are very much alike,” he thought aloud.
    “Huh?”
    “I’m not supposed to say anything to anyone, but I trust you, so I’ll break my word. I don’t know what will happen, and I don’t want to think it, but maybe I won’t see you again.”
    “Don’t think like that!” Calan said, and she splashed him once more.
    “Well, if what Flaer told me is true, I am exactly like this spring—my special power, the nature of it, I haven’t told you…”
    “Adacon, I know you possess something special. If you’ve sworn not to tell, don’t.”
    “I know it will be safe with you, and you may understand it better than me. Flaer said I am something called a Welsprin, a—” before Adacon could finish his explanation, Calan gasped, and her face contorted with shock and bewilderment.
    “A Welsprin?”
    “You know the word?”
    “I know it,” she said. The look of shock left her face, and she hugged Adacon tightly.
    “But how? I was told I am one of two that are alive.”
    “It is the story of my race—that we were born long ago from a first elf, a Welsprin,” she told. “In our history, the first of our race was this Welsprin, and from that elf and her mate were the elves created.”
    “So the Welsprin elf is dead now?” Adacon asked.
    “Our lore doesn’t explain how she died, only that she was our originator, many thousands of years ago. And you…” she stared at him with curious fascination.
    “I’m sorry,” he replied, unsure how to react.
    “Do not be! You are like this spring! And from your spirit’s energy are there streamers, shooting down into Gaigas, anchoring you to her spirit! You are Gaigas manifest!” she rejoiced.
    “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
    “Don’t be solemn; Gaigas is the good in all things, and you as such are that goodness!”
    “But, how can there be so much evil then? And the dark magic that destroys our races, how can Gaigas allow that?”
    “It is not Gaigas that those dark conjurers draw from as their source—no, they draw from a different energy,” she replied, “a collective spirit of evil.”
    “You mean, there’s another great spirit of Darkin, besides Gaigas? One of pure evil?”
    “No, it’s not a mirror of Gaigas—Gaigas is the originator of our planet, the one and only true spirit from which Darkin’s energy is come. Those who would do evil with magic, they draw on a power that stems from Gaigas, but is then corrupted by the evil in their hearts.” 
    “You mean, Gaigas allows people to use her energy for harm?”
    “No, Gaigas doesn’t allow anything—Gaigas is inert, of herself—the innate disposition of her energy is good, of common kinship with life. She cannot thwart her own energy’s occurrence—when any person has an evil thought, or an evil intention, they add their own bit of darkness to the collective of corrupted energy in the world.”
    “Collective?”
    “Yes, we elves understand it that way. Every spirit that harbors malice in its heart, toward itself or another part of creation, living or not, contributes to the collective reserve of evil energy, the source from which wizards such as Vesleathren draw their strength.”
    “So whoever has evil in their hearts can use the energy of the collective?”
    “No—and be glad that is not so. Whoever has evil in their hearts simply produces a stream of darkness, flowing naturally from Gaigas to the