Garinor stared at his best friend and the look of determination in his eyes. It was an amazing feeling to have a friend as close as Tomli. Someone who was willing to be there for him at all costs. He smiled warmly and nodded his head.
Garinor watched as his friend stepped toward the pedestal with purpose, his hand trembling. Tomli touched the iron rod and Garinor winced as a flash of white light blinded him. When his eyes cleared, Tomli was gone. And a new skeleton had been added to the pile.
“Tomli, no!” Garinor cried out, running forward. “No!” But it was true. Tomli was gone.
The prince stared oddly at Garinor and then a slow grin came over his face. “A terrible twist of fate, friend,” he said calmly, schooling his features again. “It seems the prophecy has been misunderstood all this time.” He approached Garinor and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know you must grieve for your friend, but let’s be done with this business first.”
Garinor shook his head. “That thing is cursed! Everyone who touches it will die.”
“I still believe the prophecy,” the prince stated. “Come and do your duty as you foreswore to me.”
Garinor looked up at him with hatred blazing in his eyes. “Have you no compassion? This was my dearest, closest friend. And now he’s gone.”
The prince lashed out and grabbed Garinor’s injured arm, wrenching it up and frantically slapping Garinor’s hand to the scepter, determined not to waste another minute.
Fires of agony blazed through Garinor’s arm. The wound he had received in the battle days before opened with the motion, but once his hand touched the scepter, everything came to a stop. The prince was no longer moving and he could feel no physical pain.
“At last,” said a powerful ethereal voice from all around the room. “The Chosen One has come.”
Garinor tried to back away from the cacophonous Voice that sounded to him more like a tavern full of patrons shouting in unison than anything else, but he could not remove his hand from the scepter. “What’s happening?”
“It is the time of destiny, Chosen One. The true heir Chose you as his companion and here you stand on the brink of destiny.”
Garinor stared at the scepter while his mind reeled. The top of the scepter was crested in a crystal dome and inside the inner lining where the crystal sat were countless fragments of gems, all glittering wildly. Through the dome their images were refracted so each one appeared large and priceless.
The emeralds flared to life and their green light spread out and wrapped around Garinor. The rubies shed their light to the prince, standing still nearby Garinor, unmoving. The sapphires dribbled their light down to the floor where it crept along Tomli’s skeletal remains.
With a gasp, Garinor understood at last. “Tomli was the heir, not me.”
“It is true, and yet his life now hangs in the void of darkness.” The Voice echoed for some time after.
“But what happens now?”
“Your soul is tainted and so there remains a choice, but not a whole one.”
“What do you mean?”
The Voice grew louder as it responded, “One soul is needed to enact the light of truth. One soul has been claimed.”
“But the soldier just died. Why did you also take Tomli?”
“The man was not one of the prophesied triad and therefore his life was given in vain. Now, however, one of the three has shed his soul to the scepter, but only one was Chosen to wield this power. A pity that soul is fouled.” Scorn sounded in the Voice.
Garinor listened for a minute and then he shook his head. He and the prince had sent the guard to his doom. And then Garinor had sent Tomli. He looked at the prince and felt a surge of anger. The prince’s hand was still grasped powerfully around Garinor’s arm and his face was creased in rage.
It had all been a ruse, Garinor realized at last. The prince never intended to share his fortune with him in exchange for relinquishing his title—Tomli’s title. The prince had duped Garinor thoroughly and here he stood on the edge of fate with his friend dead at his feet.
“What can I do to fix things?”
“There is little that can be done with a fragmented soul,” the Voice returned. “You may feed your soul to this scepter and acknowledge the true heir, which would release his soul to the land while yours will remain here. Or you may name the prince and keep your soul and the heir will dissipate with the light of truth.”
Garinor thought about this, but he had no decision to make. Even if he kept his soul, the prince’s plan would come to fruition, and considering the hatred with which the prince had thrown him against the scepter, choosing his own life would only be to cast its future into the prince’s hand.
At least, sacrificing himself would free Tomli’s spirit.
“I give myself to the scepter. Release my friend.”
“Very well, Chosen One,” the Voice spoke.
Garinor’s body melted away from him and he was filled with an excruciating agony. His soul was ripped from him and taken into the crystal sphere. He swirled around and saw the emerald gems dying away to darkness. But the sapphires glowed and Garinor felt Tomli’s presence around him. They couldn’t speak to each other, but they had no need of words. They had now sacrificed themselves for each other and their friendship was bonded eternally.
Garinor watched as the lights within the scepter lit fiercely and then exploded in all directions. His soul was cast in numerous places at once and he struggled to make sense of anything he saw. All he knew was that information was being spread through the land that the true heir to the throne had been found and he was dead. Garinor caught a glimpse of his mother falling to her knees in her garden, tears streaming from her eyes.
In the cavern, the scepter shook terribly and then exploded into countless fragments, dousing the light in the chamber. The prince blinked his eyes, wondering what had happened. He stood alone in the cavern, surrounded by emptiness.