Torins Story

In a day where love was constantly bombarded and crushed by evil, there was still hope. As God looked down upon the plains of human suffering he saw a light, a light that had not been doused. In that light there was a girl. She was young, fragile, and unknowing in the ways of the world. There had been much tragedy in her life but through it all she had remained pure. That girl was to become Queen of the realm. When she became of age she would succeed the Queen but before that time she needed to be readied. The Queen, sick and dying saw an opportunity to extend her realm. She offered the Princess’ hand to the one man who proved his heart pure and strong enough to guide and protect the Princess. The Queen sent messengers to all the wealthiest in the realm and informed them of an upcoming ball held in the Princess’ honor.

A young man was in his home when the messenger arrived. The messenger fell into his doorstep, dying and with his last breath giving an invitation to the man with a dying instruction to finish the errand imparted upon him by the Queen. Knowing the invitation was not for him, and sought out to whom it had belonged to. He sought out far and wide for the intended one. He searched through the hills and dale for the one he believed the invitation belonged to. Finding no one he took it upon himself to do what he thought was right and take the invitation back to the Princess having no money and a long journey ahead of him he sold his house and land. He bought provisions and traveling goods. Never being far from his home he bought a map. Because he was meeting the Princess he bought new clothes fit for a prince. The journey still worried the young man. He feared losing his way and letting down the Princess, so he asked the shopkeeper for a special compass. A compass that would deliver him directly to the Princess. The shopkeeper nodded and without a word reached under the counter and retrieved a box. He opened the box and placed it on the counter for the boy to see. Inside of it was a compass that was made entirely out of gold it had been well taken care of over the years. With it came a note, and the shopkeeper retrieved the compass and the note and handed them to the boy. "You will understand all that shall happen someday,

the shopkeeper said. Some how the boy knew that he would never forget those words. The boy thanked the shopkeeper and left the shop. He put the note in his pocket assuming it was instructions of how to use the compass and hung the compass around his neck as to never get lost. He brought the provisions to his home where he knew he would never return and packed his belongings and slept one last night in his bed.

The morning came and the sun shone brighter that he had ever seen it shine before. He awoke with the birds chirping a harmonious melody. The boy stood up and stretched, shaking the last remnants of sleep from his body. He went to his kitchen to fix his last meal in his house. He found a strange sense of solace in his last bowl of porridge, cleaned up and headed out the door. With his pack on his back, his compass around his neck, the note and the invitation in his pocket, he headed down the path leading out of his shire. After a full morning walk and leading into afternoon he stopped in a grove of apple trees. He set his pack down next to himself and reached up to pluck an apple from the tree. Looking at the apple it seemed perfect, its skin was bright red and unblemished, its smell was fresh and permeating. He took a bite of the apple and it was the juiciest apple he had ever had. Contented he plucked a second from the tree and sat down to pull the note that came with the compass from his pocket. It turned out to be a note hand written, addressed specifically to him.

"Torin, my son.

I left you and your mother many years ago. I had adventure in my heart and it could not be quenched. I was destined to roam the vast world. But everywhere I went this compass always pointed me to the True path. It saved my life many times; though it may look worn and battered it is only as your heart. Where you direct your heart as it will direct you. Be true to it and it as well will be true to you. I am terribly sorry that I could not see your life; my one mistake was to follow my dreams instead of helping you follow yours. I have seen your life and what it is to become, and Son, I am proud of you. Though I have not done my best to make you the man you are, you have done your best to become the Man I could never be. With this letter and the compass around your neck my destiny is fulfilled and the curse of my life is now a blessing. I wish you the best of luck though you won't need it. Always remember that I truly can say that I am proud of you.

- Thaddeus"

The letter puzzled Torin, and he did not know what to make of it. His mother always had told him that his father had died when he was a very young child. The way this letter reads his father had seen him as an old man. Confused and not knowing what the letter meant, he stood up picked up his pack and continued down the path. He reached down and rested the compass in the palm of his hand what was once shiny and gold was now battered and well used. Once again he didn't quite understand the happenings of the event but couldn’t turn back to the Shire. There was no direction to go but to the castle. So he looked once again down to the compass in his hand and the needle pointed in a different direction, directly down the path he was about to pass. Heeding the words of his father in the letter to him he decided to take the path lain before him.

Two days into the journey he met up with a wise man. Torin told the man of his plight. and asked if he had been going the right direction. The wise old man looked to the ground and bent down scribing something in the sand. The drawing resembled the compass and the heading read the same. The old man looked up to Torin and asked him if he had a place to stay for the evening knowing the answer he invited Torin to his cottage on the far side of the village. Being far from home and having slept on the cold hard ground for days he accepted the kind offer. Passing through the village Torin found the evidence of decay that the land had suffered under the Queens reign. The peasants of the village looked more like beggars, even the noble Lord of the village seemed to be in dire need of help. As they reached the old man’s house Torin was surprised to see that the house had not withered as did the rest of the village. His home seemed untouched by time. Disregarding the first impression he entered the house and was shown to a room. When he entered the room he had felt that he was there once before, many years ago. Knowing he had never been out of the shire he couldn’t explain why he was feeling this but could not disregard it as easily as he had the appearance of the house. Torin put his pack on a hook on the wall and sat on the bed. After sleeping on the cold hard ground he was sure this was to be a good nights sleep. As he was kicking the boots off his sore feet the old man came in.

There is some stew hot and as you like it.

With that the old man disappeared from the doorway and scurried down the hall. Torin, curious about the statement, peeked his head out the door and into the hallway. A warm glow was coming from an open door at the end of the hallway. Torin went down the hall and looked into the room. There was a large hearth with a roaring fire in it, and a table in the middle of the room with a single bowl of stew and a plate of bread. Torin looked around for the man but didn’t see him. He called out for the old man but still couldn’t find him. As he was about to leave the room and go back down the hall his stomach growled fiercely and he decided that it was probably time to eat anyway. Torin apologized to the man, for eating without him, out loud as if he were there to hear it. He ripped a piece of bread from the loaf and dipped it into the stew taking a hearty bite of the moistened fodder. Somehow the old man was perfectly correct. It was the best stew the boy had ever tasted. Again something about this place was all too familiar. As if the boy had grown up here, or spent most of his life here. Torin still could not place what was happening so he finished the bowl of stew and cleaned up after himself. He headed to his room and sat on the bed again, looking around something still was awry. He lay back looking at the ceiling as a deep sleep came him over him uncontrollably he immediately fell into a deep slumber.

Father?

Son?

Torin fell into the room where he was sleeping. He looked as he saw his mother asleep in the very same bed he knew he was sleeping in at this very moment.

Father?

Torin looked to the desk by the window and he saw a man, the man looked much like the old man who had taken him in. He moved closer to get a better look at the man, but could not get too close. His body stopped every time he tried to take a step closer. He saw the letter the man was writing. He craned his neck to see what the man was writing and he saw:

Torin, my son.

I left you and á mother many years ago. I had adventure in my heart and it could not be quenched. I was destined to roam the vast world. But everywhere I went this compass always pointed me to the True path. It saved my life many times; though it may look worn and battered it is only as your heart. Where you direct your heart as it will direct you. Be true to it and it as well will be true to you. I am terribly sorry that I could not see your life; my one mistake was to follow my dreams instead of helping you follow yours. I have seen your life and what it is to become, and Son, I am proud of you. Though I have not done my best to make you the man you are, you have done your best to become the Man I could never be.

He could not believe his eyes. He was seeing the letter his father left for him in the box with the compass. How could this be happening, he is seeing events that happened before he was born. Confused he sat on the bed next to his sleeping mother. Wanting to see her again he placed his hand on her shoulder, just then she turned to her back and looked up at him, smiling.

Was this a dream?

Am I really here?

How do I know what my father looks like?

As he asked himself the last question his mother placed her finger over his lips. A cold chill came over him as he relived the pain of losing her all in a moment. He jumped up from the bed and looked down at her again, she looked back at him and turned going back to sleep.

Did she know I was here?

Was this real?

Is this happening?

Torin turned and looked to his father again. He tried to approach him again but once again could not get close; this time he couldn’t even see what was being written. A few minutes later his father finished the letter and opened the door to the closet. He reached up under a shelf and pushed and a piece of the panel fell away. He hid the parchment in the hole and replaced the panel.

Father?

As the piece of panel snapped into place there was a loud crash at the door. Torins’ father turned and grabbed a sword that was hanging near the door and ran from the room. Torin looked to his mother but she was still sleeping.

How could you not have heard that?

Wake up!

Torin rushed over to his mother and shook her but she would not awaken. Torin heard a loud scream and some clatter. Seconds later his father came into the room holding his stomach as blood covered his arm.

Can this be true, am I witnessing my fathers death?

Is this really what happened?

Why did you never tell me of this mother?

Torin’s father fell to his knees beside the bed and grabbed his mothers shoulder as she came to life. She sprung up knowing, she got to her feet kissed Thaddeus goodbye and grabbed the box with the compass and the note in it and looked back one last time. Two men dressed in full armor and carrying swords burst into the room looking at my father and my mother. One guard started toward my mother as she tried to flee from the room through the window. Torin wanted so bad to stop the guard he reached out his hand and placed it on the guards’ chest. He could feel the cold steel of the guards’ armor. The guard looked into Torin’s eyes and stopped dead in his tracks frozen. Realizing that he had stopped the guard Torin jumped the corner of the bed to grab the other guard. It was too late the guard had brought his sword down to cut deeply into Thaddeus’ neck. Appalled and awestruck Torin fell to the floor.

Torin sat up quickly in the bed and looked around the room but the room was different. There were cobwebs and the entire room was decrepit. He could see the night sky from through the roof. Shaking off the sense of Déjà vu he stood up. He looked to the window as if he were going to see his mother. He looked to the floor where he saw his father slain. Nothing but a dark spot remained. He finally looked down at his hands.

Did I change history?

Was I there, did this happen?

Torin remembered the panel inside the closet and he flung open the door. He pushed where he saw his father push but nothing happened. Discontented he went to grab his pack as he heard a familiar click and the sound of a piece of wood falling over.

Could it be true?

He slowly turned and looked into the closet, seeing that it was true, there was a small dirk and a piece of parchment. Torin reached into the hole and retrieved both. The dirk seemed to feel warm. Although he knew it had been there for many years it still felt warm to the touch. The sheath was made of silver and the hilt had his family’s crest on one side. The other bore a crest that he had not seen before. He removed the dirk from its sheath and the blade was so clean it almost glowed in the moonlight. He re-sheathed the dagger to examine it closer in the daylight. Then turned his attention to the piece of parchment. He couldn’t believe his eye in his hand was a withered copy of the invitation that was in his pocket. He refused to pass this as coincidence so he pulled the note from his pocket placing them side by side they were not only in the same handwriting but they were the very same.

What trickery is this?

Torin sat on the corner of the bed looking down at the darkened spot on the floor. He could not believe his eyes; he could not believe anything that had happened to him. He refused to acknowledge that he saw his father’s death. As he sit there the sun came up and the cock crowed. He rose from the bed gathered his pack and slipped out of the cottage. Walking down the road away from that wretched place.

Why is this happening to me?