Garinor looked down at the azure light that was wrapped around Tomli’s remains. His best friend had protected him in the forest and again in the Daggerfist camp. He had always been there for Garinor growing up. Garinor had spent countless hours with him exploring the forest near Paligar, setting up traps and hideaways, and playing at swords with their friends Marrin and Besfa. Tomli was a noble person whose spirit deserved a second chance. And so Garinor gave it to him.
“I will trade my soul with Tomli’s,” he said with conviction.
“As you wish, Chosen One,” spoke the Voice.
The next few minutes for Garinor were unbearable. The scepter drew in the blue and green lights. His soul was pulled forward from his body, wrenched from deep within. It seared through him so painfully that the dagger wound in his shoulder felt less obtrusive than a bug bite, in comparison. His whole self felt like it was being turned inside out and left to bake on the surface of the sun.
Everything he saw changed then. It was as if he was inside the scepter now and he could see from its perspective. He willed his sight to turn and there he saw his own body standing nearby, but warped in appearance, for he was seeing it through the crystal dome of the scepter. His face was pulled together in some places and expanded apart in others. Fear crept along his being that he had indeed been duped by the Voice and had given his soul up for nothing.
The emerald light faded and left him in a hazy gray mist. But it was then that he saw the miracle he was hoping to see, though it didn’t end the way he thought it would. The cerulean glow that had covered Tomli spiraled around inside the scepter and then burst forth from the crystal. It rose into the air and cascaded onto Garinor’s body, which still held the scepter. Little by little the blue light dissipated, filling the empty shell and giving it new life.
Garinor’s eyes blinked and stared into the scepter, but Garinor wasn’t the one looking from behind those eyes. It was Tomli; Garinor’s essence was inside the scepter.
It took a moment for Garinor to fully understand what had happened. Tomli’s body was disintegrated and so when he had offered up his soul, the scepter had taken his own soul out of his body and it had given the body to Tomli’s soul. While this realization struck Garinor, it also struck Tomli.
“Garinor?” he asked in Garinor’s voice, which unnerved him. “What happened?”
Garinor no longer had a physical body and he couldn’t talk, but he focused his thoughts and Tomli was able to hear him through the scepter’s magic. “I’ve given you a second chance,” he said. “You’re the true king, Tomli. Your life was the one that should have been protected all along, not mine.”
“No, Garinor,” Tomli said sagely. “All life should be protected. But I do understand the truth of who I am, though now I’m in your body. I wonder how that will affect the prophecy.”
“It won’t,” Garinor answered. “It doesn’t matter who you are on the outside, Tomli. You’re still you on the inside.”
Before Tomli could respond, Garinor noticed that some of the other gems started to glow. The amethysts and moonstones boasted an inner light and their shine rose up out of the scepter and touched the ceiling. Curious, Garinor chose to follow that light.
He floated up and up to the rocky roof and passed through it as if it wasn’t even there. Then his perception expanded in all directions. He glided along the wind and coasted down, skating over the land in every direction at once. He felt himself being spread across the countryside, tapping into villages and towns and alerting every person he could that the true heir of the land was alive. He floated north and south, east and west, carrying out his important mission, until at last it was finished and he hovered over everything, looking down below.
Then the world shattered. It fragmented into countless pieces and Garinor couldn’t keep track of them all. His soul was torn asunder, each part clinging to remember who he was, though his whole self was no more.