Elder Dorin nodded his head slowly. “It is not surprising that you wish to know what lies behind the other doors. There are mysteries surrounding you. I appreciate you asking permission instead of simply walking through the doors yourself.”
Garinor couldn’t help but laugh. “I didn’t have much choice when I came back. I went unconscious.”
The Elder smiled. “Yes, but you did so only because you were satisfied with what you had seen, else you would have clung to wakefulness and sought the other paths as well. But it is your request now to visit a new door, and so you may. By all means, view what you wish.” He lifted his hand and signaled for the door.
Garinor was taken aback by the Elder’s agreement and also that he should go immediately. He didn’t want to try the Elder’s patience, so he accepted the gesture and pushed himself to his feet with a nod. He saw Elder Dorin smile as he stepped toward the door and he felt he hadn’t been foolish to ask for this second viewing.
Garinor followed the path around to the three doors and he stood before the leftmost portal. He reached for the threshold of the past and there he witnessed the second vision.
The moment he opened the door, he felt a strange force grab him from behind and pull him backward. It wasn’t a normal type of pull, like someone yanking him away from a cliff, but it felt like it was inside of him somehow. He kept his grip tight on the door handle, but it was unnecessary because he wasn’t actually moving. Instead, something mystical pulled his mind’s eye into a distant past.
Once the awkward sensation subsided, Garinor noticed he was no longer in the hamlet of Arvion. He was inside a grand room that could have fit his entire house. Fourteen white stone pillars encircled him, forming the edges of the room. Highly polished marble lined the floor and walls and his reflection bounced back at him wherever he looked. Before him rested two large thrones of gold, padded in red and purple velvet. When he looked again, he saw a young man with black hair sitting on one of the thrones. Lines of worry creased his face.
Footsteps echoed from behind Garinor and he tried to move out of the way before he was seen, but his feet wouldn’t budge. The footsteps clambered up behind him and then a cold sensation whisked through him as a young squire walked right through him from behind.
The squire knelt low to the man on the throne. “My liege, I come with tidings.”
With a deep voice, the king responded, “Speak then, Forento.”
“The Seer has had a Vision!”
“Then why does not the Seer come to me herself?”
The squire trembled for a moment, composing himself before he could answer. “Because she has died, my liege.”
The king rose to his feet. “What?”
“Yes, sire, it’s true. She had a Vision.” When Garinor heard this a second time, it seemed much more important than he had first guessed.
“Who was the Witness then?” the king asked.
“It was I, my liege, which is why I come to you with haste.”
“You? What business is it of yours to Witness a Vision?”
“Forgive me, sire, but I don’t think the Seer chose me. I just happened to be there.” He whimpered slightly. “Sire? Why did the Seer die after she told me what she Saw?”
“Know you nothing? When a true Vision is given to a Seer it burns their very soul. For her sake it was lucky you were there to Witness it, else her spirit would wander aimlessly until it found a Witness of its own.” He waved his hand as if the loss of the Seer was a trifle. “Speak now, Witness, and declare the Vision.”
The squire rose up from his groveling posture and stood to face the king as an equal. The change was startling, and Garinor couldn’t help wondering if the Seer’s spirit hadn’t taken over.
When the squire spoke, it was in a commanding tone that demanded the utmost attention. “Three generations hence, your line will falter and three champions will come to the fore. One will be secretly descended of your line and will not know it. One will seek the power of the king as his own for he will have grown, expecting it. One will have the power to decide between the two, but will need the help of a scepter that was forged last full moon. Without the scepter, truth cannot be revealed. Only the one destined to wield the scepter can ever claim it. Only the one descended of your line can choose the one who will take the scepter.”
After the squire’s last words echoed briefly, the king asked, “And if this scepter is not found and used for the purpose of placing my descendent back upon the throne, then my line will be lost forever?”
“It is so. The usurper will strive to keep the power.”
The king groaned. “Then if he learns of this Vision, he will set out to slay my descendent and this one who is to find the scepter. I see. It would be pointless, I presume, to create numerous heirs at this time.” He answered himself, though. “Yes, yes. A true Vision with a Witness and the death of the Seer cannot be altered. This is troublesome, indeed.”
As Garinor stood there, the shiny walls became cloudy and started to fade away. The king and squire vanished and Garinor felt another pulling sensation, this time urging his innards forward.
The scene rematerialized in the throne room, though the walls and floor did not hold the same opulent luster. A new king sat upon the throne, his beleaguered queen beside him, clutching a bundle to her breast. Footsteps echoed again behind Garinor and he tensed as he waited for the gush of coldness to pass through him with the arrival of the new visitor.
“You called for me, my lieges?” said a young woman, bowing to the king and queen.
“Indeed,” said the king. “Our forces have been overrun and before this day is over our kingdom will be under Vehn’s control.”
“Your majesty!”
“Be still, girl. This will come to pass and there is no force in my power to stop it. Vehn is a venerable ruler, but his ancestors have yearned for this province for ages. He will rule wisely here for a time. But only for a time.”
“Surely, your majesty, if he is just, he will—”
“The terms of our surrender were clear,” the king interrupted. “We will not have this land destroyed by further war. Yet we must live on,” he said solemnly and then turned to the queen, “through our son.”
“But I don’t—”
Only then did the queen rise. She was exhausted, weary, and resigned to her fate. “You must take our son and bring him to a family that can raise him in our absence. Instruct them that he is the true heir to the throne and one day he will return to rule this land. But tell them also to keep this news quiet, for there are some who will want him destroyed so he can never return to this castle.” She held the bundle out for the woman.
It took a few moments for the girl to understand what was being asked of her, and even though she was horrified, she accepted the task.
The king spoke next. “Your escape will be covered, for when Vehn comes he will see us with an infant boy. One is being brought to us from the village. Another sacrifice. Unfortunate, but necessary. There is much death and destruction in the village. I beg you, take our son to a place further away, but within the bounds of our lands. Disguise him somehow. You must protect him. It is all we have.”
The girl nodded.
With that, the scene faded away once more. It was the last scene he would witness, however, for the jolt that brought him forward left him standing in the hamlet of Arvion, his hand still clutching the door handle.
Garinor gasped frantically, paralyzed by his thoughts. The events of the day swam through him. He had been summoned by the king, then attacked by hunters who seemed to want his death, and now he saw this vision of the past telling of a lost heir to the throne. Pieces fell into place for him then; he was the heir. Even here, Elder Dorin had shown him respect, allowing him to see into the past that had forged his life.
He knew now his life was in jeopardy. The scepter must also be found. But what had the Vision said? The heir would choose the one to claim the scepter. If he had any choice at all, Garinor would choose Tomli, his lifelong friend to be the one to bring the light of truth upon the land.
The world seemed suddenly too real for the fourteen-year-old boy. The weight of pressures he was not ready for pushed down on him. He tried to convince himself there was plenty of air around him and he wouldn’t faint.
He sat there for a few minutes, trying to combine the knowledge he had seen in the present with the new scenes he had witnessed in the past. Two decisions remained for him now.