Sarnavel

A long, flame-tempered spear, its shaft inscribed with angular glyphs of symmetry and foresight. The head was forged of dark volcanic alloy, shaped like a chisel point — sharp, elegant, unwavering. When Rae presented it to Athamas, he spoke its purpose plainly:

“For clarity, for reach. Let each strike find its line.”

Sarnavel is a weapon of precision and discipline, befitting the tactician who wields it. Its shaft hums with ancient power, and where it touches the Umbrin, they simply cease — not destroyed so much as erased. Athamas wields it in controlled arcs, each movement deliberate, each strike calculated.

During the Battle of Sheratan, Athamas entered the burning courtyard like a storm, Sarnavel gleaming with ancient fire. Where he struck, the ground cracked. Where he turned, the wind broke. His armour bore soot and claw marks, but he didn’t slow.

Its greatest moment came during the Battle of the Clearing. When the Umbrin leader raised its blade of pure darkness to destroy the ancient structure — the very place the artifact needed to be placed — it was Athamas who threw himself between them. The dark blade descended and met Sarnavel. The impact sent shockwaves through the clearing. Blood streaming from a gash on his forehead, his arms shaking with the effort of holding back that terrible weapon, Athamas held the line.

“Not… while I… stand!”

The lance held back the Umbrin leader’s blade when nothing else could.

“For clarity, for reach. Let each strike find its line.”