“Come,” said the Wise One, “and behold your sword.”
Prince Ember stepped quickly to his side. Before his eyes, close sheathed in its shining scabbard, lay the fairy sword of power. A thrill of awe passed through him at the sight.
“Take it,” commanded the Wise One.
The Prince lifted it out, and as he unsheathed it, at the Wise One’s word, it filled the hut with a burning glow. Heat, intense and ardent, streamed from it, making warm the air.
“This is the Sword of Fire,” the ancient fairy told him. “As potent it will be in your hands and for your use, as was the Sword of Flames in the hands of Prince Radiance. In every danger that you must meet, over every obstacle that you must encounter, save one, it will be victorious.”
Prince Ember’s heart beat fast. “And for that other?” he asked eagerly.
“For that, also, I have a gift,” was the answer. “Look within the chest once more and you will see.”
Leaning down the Prince peered into the dimness of the chest. “There is a small round box,” he said.
“Take it, and open it,” commanded the Wise One.
Obediently Prince Ember drew it forth and undid its clasp. He looked within and saw a bit of charcoal, black and glistening; nothing more. He regarded it with astonishment. “What power has this to help me?” he inquired.