Thor’s heart pounded in his chest as the words sunk in, the words of this man whom he had once thought to be his father. His felt his world shaking all around him. And suddenly, it all made sense. For the first time in his life, it all made sense.
This man was not his father.
“Then who is?” Thor asked.
“I honestly don’t know,” he said. “I never met him. I only met your mother once. Briefly. She left you, as a baby, put you in my arms. I had been with the flock, at the top of the mountain. And she had appeared, holding you. She had said that I was to raise you. That you had a great destiny, and that I was destined to be your caretaker. She was the most beautiful and powerful woman I had ever laid eyes upon. She was not of this world. I went weak at the sight of her. I would have done anything she’d asked for. I took you in my arms. And then she disappeared.
“I was left holding you, alone on the mountaintop, and as soon as she’d left, I’d wondered why I had taken you. When she had gone, my senses cleared. But I was stuck with you.”
It hurt Thor to hear these words, but at the same time, for once in his life, it all rang true.
But this still didn’t explain who his real father was. Or why this man had been chosen to raise him.
“Before she left, she gave me one command. She told me that on the day you found out about her, I was to give you something.”
He turned and strutted across the small yard, to a shed, and Thor followed him inside.
He knelt down on its wood floor, used his big beefy palm to swipe it of dust, and revealed a hidden compartment. He blew on it, revealing a latch, then turned it and hoisted it with all his might. A foot thick, he slowly raised it, and ancient air came out, along with a small cloud of dust. It looked as if it hadn’t been opened in years.
He reached in up to his elbow, fished around, then grabbed something and pulled it out. Thor knelt there, opposite him, and he held a small leather sack in his palm, covered in dust. He blew on it, and handed it to Thor.
Thor gently opened and reached into the sack. He felt a piece of parchment, rolled up, and took it out and unrolled it.
He could not believe it. It was his mother’s handwriting. He felt a thrill as he read it:
My dearest Thorgrin:
On the day that you read this, you will already be a man. I am so sorry that I left you. But it was for a good reason. Fate has its own way of unfolding, and on the day that we meet, you will understand.
Inside this sack are two pieces of jewelry—both of which you will need to save your life. The first is a ring, which you must give to the one you love. The second is a necklace, which you must wear. It will lead you to your father. And to me.
I love you with everything that I am, and I weep every day I do not see you.
Your mother.
Hands trembling, Thor reached into the sack and first pulled out a ring. His breath was taken away: it was a large diamond ring, flawless, with rubies and sapphires all around the band. It was the most spectacular piece of jewelry he had ever seen. He then reached in and pulled out the necklace. The chain was bejeweled with diamonds and sapphires and rubies, and from it hung the emblem of a falcon, carved in black amethyst.
Thor reached back and put on the necklace, and he could feel its power throbbing immediately through his chest. He felt comforted by it. Protected. He felt, for the first time, as if he was close to his mother.
Thor tucked the scroll and the diamond ring safely inside his shirt, and as he put it away, his thought turned to only one person.
Gwendolyn.
Give it to the one you love.
“That is all I have for you,” he said, standing.
Thor stood, too.
“So you see,” he said, “you have no more business here. You have received what you’ve come to find.”
Thor looked back up at this pathetic man, who had once loomed so large for him. He felt a deep sadness.