Garinor picked himself up off the ground and decided he wanted to know his whole story. He had seen the visions of the past and future. He still wanted to know about the events happening around him now. He believed the Elder Dorin had given him his blessing to view all three time frames, so with conviction in his heart, he reached for the door in the middle.
When his hand touched the metal handle, a strange sensation swept over him. He felt like he had turned into a being that was no thicker than parchment. He couldn’t sense his own body properly, nor the world around him. It was all he could do not to release the handle.
As he stared at the wooden door, its image became superimposed with a new one. He still saw slats of wood, but no, they weren’t slats of wood. They were trees. The trees were moving past him swiftly. He knew those trees; he had grown up around them. Soon he realized he was tracing his recent steps through the nearby forest.
But then his sight drifted away from what he knew. He returned to his village of Paligar and there sought out his friends. To each house he went, ensuring their safety. He drifted into Marrin’s home, but found it completely empty of people. He recalled Marrin had no siblings and his father and mother both helped at the mill. They wouldn’t be home now.
He remembered a painful cry and his thoughts drifted toward Besfa. Through the streets he flew in his mind’s eye, searching for his injured friend. Besfa was also not at home, though his mother worked tirelessly, sewing clothing that would be sold at her husband’s shop. A small girl played with a doll the mother had sewn for her, but otherwise there was nothing to see.
Worried, Garinor’s vision swept through the town to Tomli’s house. To his relief, there he saw his best friend tending to some minor wounds, his face a mask of stone. He also noted his own soggy nightclothes were spread out so they would dry. He wished he could tell Tomli he was well and safe, but his voice did not work in this enchanted vision.
Needing to know Besfa’s fate, Garinor left Tomli’s house and sought the village healer. She was gifted in her art and it was there Garinor found his friend. A gash in Besfa’s arm was wrapped in blood-soaked bandages, and though he appeared to be unconscious, Besfa’s face was not creased in pain. He appeared peaceful, as if his injury would be more a badge of honor than something to worry about. Relieved, Garinor turned his thoughts elsewhere, wondering who had sent the hunters.
The double vision of the door and town blurred then as Garinor’s focus changed. The village melted away and dissolved into a green field with the sun high overhead. A man in his twenties sat astride a horse in richly decorated garb. He held himself in a haughty manner and gestured angrily to someone standing before him.
The man had a regal air about him, but something loathsome as well. The sneer of his face set Garinor’s instincts ablaze, and he could only wonder if it wasn’t the prince himself. He had never seen the prince, to his recollection, but if the man was dressed like that and carried an arrogant air of authority, it had to be one of the royal family.
The prince was after him, then, trying to kill him for some reason. Garinor wondered what that reason would be and then his vision changed. He saw an old marble-floored room with pillars lining the walls. He felt himself ten steps away from two lush thrones and he looked up at them from his knees with a sense of longing.
As quickly as it had come, the image faded away. Garinor saw only the door before him again. He removed his hand from the latch and stepped back. He sank down into the dirt, trying to ponder the meanings of the visions he had been given. The powerful magic that had allowed him to glimpse the present time swarmed around him and left him feeling dizzy and aloof.
Exhausted from all the visions he had now seen, Garinor pulled himself up and dragged himself toward Elder Dorin’s hut to recuperate.