The time Garinor spent with the Daggerfists filled some of his fondest memories of his entire journey. They were a well-trained group and though each person had his or her own special responsibility, everyone helped everyone else. No one stayed idle for long, and not because they were badgered into it or held at knifepoint if they didn’t. They helped because they believed in the same purpose of what they were doing.
Garinor never wanted his time with them to change. And even though they were due to meet others of their kind, he was saddened that the connections he was building would be changed, for undoubtedly those he talked to the most would have other friends to spend time with, too.
He tried to keep his spirits up, holding his quest dear to his heart, though that was not the most uplifting thought he could bear in mind. The mysterious scepter seemed a scarier thing than he had thought it would be, now that he knew more about it. But still, if he did not reach out to face this destiny, it would leave the door open for the prince to continue his tyranny.
Garinor’s gloomy thoughts blotted out the brilliant gleaming sunshine that washed the land in a vibrancy that was hard to fathom. The grass sparkled green; a passing stream was a rich azure that boasted the very color of life; flowers and trees waved back and forth in a tender breeze.
By the time they had reached the camp, Garinor turned his thoughts away from the world around him. He was very near to the cave now. He could feel it. He turned toward the northeast and the mountains loomed over him, watching him eagerly to see what he would do. And although there was still some distance left to travel, he felt small in the shadow of those peaks.
He shivered as he thought about the next unknown leg of his journey, the one he had plodding toward every day since he was first roused from his home. He had scraped by through one trial or another, but something about the upcoming mission left him feeling uneasy.
Then something happened that took his breath away and made him stagger in disbelief.
Someone called his name. “Garinor!”
A tall boy came running toward him and it took a few minutes for Garinor to register that he knew who it was. His jaw dropped open and he rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. “T—Tomli?”
“Garinor!” He laughed and crashed into his best friend with a welcoming embrace. “It is you!”
“Tomli? H—how?”
The taller boy reached into a pocket. “I found this in the pocket of your soggy nightclothes.” He grinned, pulling out the chain Garinor had rescued from the guard on that fateful morning. “I went after you after I saw it and I eventually ended up with these guys.”
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Garinor breathed.
“Yeah, well it was smart of you to leave me that hint.”
Garinor’s face crinkled up in confusion. “Hint?”
“This chain. The Daggerfists.”
“I didn’t mean for it to be a hint,” he was forced to admit. “How would I even think it would be a hint? I’ve only met them recently myself.”
Tomli scratched his head and then a look of comprehension crossed his face. He threw an arm around Garinor’s shoulder. “Of course. Right.” His tone changed drastically as he continued. “Garinor, about Marrin.”
“What about Marrin?”
“He… died in the forest,” Tomli said somberly. “I wish I could have stopped it from happening, but there wasn’t anything that I could do.”
Garinor’s jaw dropped. “What? No… he can’t be dead!”
Tomli lowered his eyes and nodded. “It’s true, Gar. I’m sorry.”
It took a moment for Garinor to process the news. He swallowed hard and then asked about their other friend.
Tomli gave a solemn grin. “Besfa was hurt too, but he’s okay. He’ll have a scar, and you know he’ll play that up as much as he can.”
Garinor nodded slowly, but didn’t say anything, unable to feel any humor in the moment.
Tomli waited for Garinor to say something, but Garinor remained silent. After a few moments, Tomli said, “So, since you’re here, let’s go meet the General.”
He couldn’t refute his best friend’s desire to introduce him to the leader, though all he wanted to do was sit and catch up with Tomli. But his friend walked with purpose and so they went to a well-crafted tent that was tucked under one of the few trees nearby. The guard outside bowed his head to Tomli and announced them to the General inside.
“Come,” called a deep rumbling voice.
Tomli went in first and stood before a table, behind which the General sat. Garinor stepped in and it was only when he looked up at the man sitting there that the world exploded into confusion.
“F—Father!” Garinor cried out.
“Welcome, Son!” the General greeted.
Tomli let out a laugh and clapped his friend on the back. “I can’t believe you didn’t know! Garinor, your father here founded the Daggerfists years ago. He’s the mastermind behind the whole thing! It’s so wild!”
“Now, now, that’s enough, Tomli,” Terrian admonished playfully.
“But, sir, it’s incredible you’ve kept this whole thing secret for so long. And even from him.”
Garinor looked at his father’s neck and then his memories finally clicked. When he had first taken the chain off that first guard, he had felt a twinge as if he had seen it before, and there sat his father with his own chain hanging proudly in front of his chest. Of course, he had seen his father with it all his life, but he had never paid much attention to it.
But his mind was so numb that when Garinor spoke he asked a question that caught them all off guard. “So, then, you’re not a travelling merchant?”
Garinor’s father bellowed with laughter and so did Tomli. It wasn’t long before Garinor joined them, shaking his head.
“Does Mother know?”
“Yes, son, she does.” He drew in a deep breath and sighed. “Is she well, do you know? It has been some time since I have been home.”
Garinor nodded, not really knowing if she was fine or not after everything that had been happening.
Garinor’s father stood up and embraced his son then clasped him on the shoulders and stared him in the eyes. “My son,” he started, not knowing where to begin. “I don’t know how you could ever forgive me the lies that have hovered around you all your life.”
“Father?”
But before he could respond, someone burst into the tent, “General! Quick! It’s the prince!”
Terrian’s voice turned to stone. “Stay here, Garinor, Tomli.” He grabbed his sword and went out of the tent.