Genesis.

[Farek]

His wisdom is profound, his power is vast. Who has resisted him and
come out unscathed? Job 9:4

Farek felt the aquatic power of the coral key course through his every vein as it was exchanged from Brigath's hand to his own. He slowly turned to face the Tower of Water that reflected the sunlight that began to diffuse through the air as the great celestial body that seemed to be half swallowed by the great ocean.

He could hear the crowd, consisting mostly of do-gooders and untalented flops and quite unrecpetive to his victory, murmur and hiss behind him.
They did not feel the sharp sting of his tongue, nor that of his blade, because at that every moment, they were nothing more than the crustaceans that buried themselves in the sands on which he stood.

He began to move, though not by his own volition. The tower was calling him, the pulse of the gnarled, coral key relaying magical intentions into his brain. His body moved upright, stiff, not with the usual slouching skulk which usually pervaded his gait. A trail of the footprints of a pair of large boots were left in his wake as the call of the tower brought him to its watery base.

Farek craned his neck upward, staring into the sky, at the tower that stretched hundreds of feet through the low. whispy, cirrus clouds. He gripped the key tightly in his left hand and jammed it forward, though the key guided his hand, into an unseen lock on the tower. With a flash, he disappeared, and left the crowd of combatants and spectators alike squabbling like children at the dueling grounds.

After a brief feeling of disorientation, Farek appeared inside the tower, only to find that he was completely submurged in water. He lost his typically calm and collected demeanor and began to frantically look about, trying to find an exit or a pocket of air, and quickly, as his lungs were straining as he held his breath. After several moments and an inability to find an exit, Farek capitulated and drew in a deep breath as he waited for the water to flood his lungs and bring a certain, painful death.

But the water passed through him like air.

Relieved, Farek's lips drew into a hearty smile, and fortunately for his ego and himself, was unseen by any wandering eye. With his senses regained and his nerves calmed, Farek pushed off of a wall with a thrust from his right foot and glided effortlessly through the water in the inside of the tower.

After several moments of childike exploration, he caught a large, technological marvel hanging on a wall. It was square, measuring several feet in diameter, and had a smooth, glossy surface that reflected his face back to him. There was a switch, and several buttons that were labeled not by words, but by color. Impulsively, Farek slammed the switch as hard as he could (for the water pressure made his movements far slower and less forceful), and the monitor lit up, showing in great detail the dueling rings across the island where the patrons, having seemingly forgotten Farek's great win, were squabbling about some petty issue.

Farek, bubbling with excitement, pressed the first in the series of buttons, a yellow one. With a flash, the monitor flickered, and another visual emerged. It was of the inside of the swords Arena near the heart of RhyDin, though it was a Monday night and only Hubie was present, cleaning up shards of broken glass and errant bloodstains from the previous night's duels.

Farek then pressed each other button and each time, another detailed view of the city shone brightly.

Only then did Farek realize the powerful nature of which he was the keeper. At that very moment, he swore to himself that he would not surrender it by any means beyond losing the grip of they key by the devilish curse of rigor mortis--death.