Garinor considered carefully. He knew he couldn’t choose his best friend to die, for doing so would have been a spiteful act for being set up as a decoy to protect Tomli. Tomli had always protected Garinor; now it was Garinor’s turn. His best friend would live. And with such a noble heart and the royal blood in his veins, Garinor knew that Tomli would also rule the land.
His choice then came down to his own life or the prince’s. The prince had acted in horrible ways, seeking to twist the prophecy to his end. Garinor wondered how many lives had perished along the prince’s foolish journey. Yet as he considered the justice that might be served if the prince’s soul were taken to fuel the scepter’s power, he didn’t feel right about whispering the man’s name and ending his life without even a fight. If it had come down to a sword match and Garinor killed him in that manner, at least it would have been honorable. But not like this.
So Garinor made the only choice that settled well on his conscience. “I sacrifice myself so Tomli may rule the land.”
“Very well, Chosen One,” echoed the Voice one last time. As the final syllable reverberated off the walls, a deep trembling shook Garinor’s spirit. He knew it wasn’t the ground quaking, for it pulled from deep within his heart and it lurched outward from there, gathered up in the emerald light that surrounded him. He watched in fascination as the green glow huddled together and streaked toward the scepter’s crystal top. Yet as he watched he also felt a burning sensation building up from his side and he felt another painful pull from within.
Before he understood what happened, Garinor gazed around and saw his own body standing close by, hand outstretched and holding the scepter. His eyes were open but lightless. Despite the fact that it was still standing, Garinor knew that his body had died and his spirit was now trapped inside the scepter. The burning pain deepened, but he paid it no heed, for the gems around him started to glow.
It was an odd sight, being able to see in all directions at once as a spirit, but he reveled in it. He drank in the glittering lights all around him, from the golden topazes to the dark obsidian shards. Each gem and mineral lit with a mystic light that swirled up and encased him in its glow. Mixed in with those hues were the red, blue, and green lights that had reached out to touch the ones linked to the prophecy.
As one, the myriad colors swept up into the air and sparkled their way through the rocky walls and out into the world beyond. Garinor’s essence was caught up in the flow and he delighted in the sensation of flight. He was swept across the land, touching upon the brows of men and women everywhere, imparting knowledge of the heir’s ascension to power. He conjured images of Tomli’s noble visage, hoping to share his likeness with them all so they could acknowledge him upon sight.
The rainbow of glittering colors swirled and knotted together, sweeping about as it shed its knowledge to all below. Then at last the task was done and the light unthreaded itself and return to the dank cavern.
Garinor was again housed within the dome of the scepter and a new sensation came to him, adding to the fiery pain that coursed through him. He felt the scepter rumbling and he knew that soon the tremors would cause it to break and when it did, so too would Garinor’s soul.
He looked one last time at Tomli, who had risen up from his stasis and retrieved the sword from the prince, who was still held in time’s embrace. Garinor could see a new strength in his friend and he knew he had chosen well. Tomli would be a noble ruler and he would lead the land to a bountiful future.
He cast his goodbyes to his best friend as the shuddering intensified. And with a soul-splitting blast, the scepter exploded to countless pieces, shredding Garinor’s soul as well.