When Terrin woke up the next morning, he completely forgot about the event of the night before when he realized that he had woken up way later than usual and that if he didn't hurry, he'd miss breakfast! (His family had a set time, and if you were late, too bad)
"Oh no, oh no, oh no!" he cried, as he ran around the room, looking for his clothes. He then ran down the stairs, hoping against all hopes that he hadn't missed breakfast.
"Mornin' mom, dad! Hey, Squirt." He greeted his family, who seemed to be cleaning something up. In response, his sister stuck her tongue out at him, and his father said:
"You're up late, and you missed breakfast."
"Missed breakfast?!" he wailed.
"Son! There's a cut on your hand, let me fix that up for you," said his mother, reaching for the first aid kit.
"A cut? Where'd that come from?" he wondered.
"And don't forget about your soccer practice today," added his mom as she looked at the clock. "You'd better go get your things from your room, or you'll be late for that, too."
"Okay..." he answered dejectedly, heading for the stairs.
When he got to his room, the search was on. He looked everywhere, finally spotting his bag of soccer things shoved in a corner. He went to grab it, when he noticed that there was a strange lump on his bed. He went over to investigate, and his memories came back at the sight of the ancient looking sword.
"I remember! But I still wonder how this got here," he said, reaching for the old weapon. As his hand grasped the hilt, he began to feel dizzy. He struggled to remain conscious, but lost the battle. Terrin blacked out.
