Morgan Rice: A Fate of Dragons

Just as quickly, she lifted into the air, flapping her wide wings. He knew he would see her again.

Thor reached down and lay a free hand on the hilt of his new sword. When they had finished the Hundred, before they had boarded the ships to return home, the Legion commanders had given each of the surviving boys a weapon, a token to symbolize that they were now full Legion members. Reece had been given a bejeweled shield; O’Connor, who walked now with a limp, still recovering from the dragon’s blow, had been given a mahogany bow and arrow; Elden had been given a flail with a spiked silver ball – and Thor had been given this sword, its hilt wrapped with the finest silk, bejeweled, its blade sharper and smoother than any he had seen. Holding it in his hand, it felt like air.

As he squeezed its hilt tighter, he felt that he was now part of the Legion, a part of this band of brothers forever. They had gone through things together that no one else would ever understand. Thor looked over his brethren and could see that they looked older, too. Strong, toughened. They all looked like they had been through hell. And they had. He thought of all the brothers they had lost back there, boys they had started out with on this boat who were not returning; some who had dropped out along the way from cowardice and some who had been killed. It was sobering. Today was a cause for celebration – but also for mourning. The weight of it was carried by all the Legion members, and Thor could detect a more serious, more mature look to them, the youthful giddiness they’d had just months ago gone, replaced with something else. A sense of mortality.

Thor would do anything now for these boys, his real brothers. And they all, after he rescued them from the dragon, looked at him with a new respect. Maybe even a sense of awe. Even Kolk looked at him differently, with something like respect, and he had not reprimanded him once since.

Finally, Thor felt like he belonged . Whatever enemies he faced on shore no longer scared him. In fact, now, he welcomed combat.

Now he understood what it meant to be a warrior.

Thor rode on horseback with the Legion, Reece on one side of him, O’Connor, Elden and the twins on the other, Krohn following below, all of them walking on the path towards King’s court. He could hardly believe his eyes: before him, stretched as far as the eye could see, stood thousands of people, lining the road, screaming in adulation at their return. They waved banners, tossed candies at them, threw flower petals in their path. Military drums beat with precision, and cymbals and music rang out. It was the grandest parade that Thor had ever seen, and he rode at the center of it, surrounded by all his brothers.

Thor had not expected a return welcome like this. Luckily, their journey back through the Canyon had been uneventful, and he had been shocked as they had crossed the bridge and the hundreds of King’s soldiers had lowered their heads in deference to them. To them . Boys. The guards had reached out and lowered their halberds, one at a time, in honor and respect. As Thor had walked through them, he had never felt more accepted, more of a sense of belonging, in his life. It made him feel that every minute of every hardship had been worth it. Here he was, respected by these great men, now a part of their ranks. There was nothing he had ever wanted more in life.

As they’d all set foot back on the safety of their side of the Canyon, they had been met with another surprise: there was a fleet of horses awaiting them, the most beautiful horses Thor had ever seen. Now, instead of having to tend the horses, to shovel their waste, Thor had been given one to ride himself. It was a thing of splendor, with a black hide and a long, white nose. He had named him Percival.

They had ridden most of the day, cresting a small hill before reaching King’s Court. When they’d reached its peak, Thor’s breath had been taken away: as far as the eye could see, the masses lined King’s Road, cheering them. The horizon was filled with fall foliage and flowers, and it was a perfect day. They had left during summer and returned at fall, and the change was shocking.

As they all rode their horses now through the parade in King’s Court, the sun beginning to set, Thor felt as if he were in a dream.

“Can you believe this is for us?” O’Connor asked, walking on his horse beside Thor.

“We’re Legion members now,” Elden said. “ Real Legion members. If there’s a war, we’re called upon as reserves. We’re not just trainees anymore: we’re soldiers, too.”

The masses cheered as they passed through, but as Thor looked over the faces, he was looking for only one person: Gwendolyn. She was all he thought of. Not riches nor fame nor honor nor any of it. He just wanted to see her, to know she was still here, that she still cared for him.

The cheers reached a crescendo as the group reached King’s Gate and crossed the wooden bridge, the bridge echoing beneath the weight of the horses’ hooves. They continued on through the soaring arched stone, beneath the rows of iron spikes. They proceeded through the darkened part of the tunnel, then came out the other side, into King’s Court.

As they did, they were met with a cheer, masses flooding the plaza from every direction, calling out their names. Thor was even amazed to hear some people call out his name – he could hardly believe anyone even knew who he was.

As they continued into the plaza, Thor saw that banquet tables had been prepared for the festivities. He was beginning to realize that this day had been declared a holiday, and that all these festivities were just for them. It was hard to fathom.

They reached the center of the plaza, and standing there, waiting to greet them, was Brom, the lead general of all the armed forces. He was surrounded by his top generals and dozens of members of The Silver, and one by one, the boys dismounted and walked towards them, stopping at attention as they lined up.

Kolk walked around and stood beside Brom, the two of them side by side, facing the boys. The crowd fell silent.

“Men,” Brom called out, “for from now on you shall be called men – we welcome you home as members of the Legion!”

The crowd cheered, and knights of The Silver stepped forward and pinned each boy with a pin, a black falcon holding a sword, the emblem of the Legion, on their left breast, above their hearts. Each Legion member was pinned by the knight he was squire to – and Thor was upset that neither Erec nor Kendrick were both not there to pin him. Kolk, in their place, stepped forward and pinned him. He looked down and, to Thor’s surprise, slowly broke into a smile.

“You’re not half bad,” he said.

It was the first time Thor had ever seen him smile. Then Kolk quickly frowned and hurried off.

The masses cheered, and musicians started up, drums and lutes and cymbals and harps, and the crowd broke into celebration.

Casks of ale were rolled out onto the fields, and a foaming tankard of ale was soon shoved into Thor’s hand. Within moments, it became an all-out party.

Someone came up behind Thor and lifted him up onto his shoulders, and Thor found himself hoisted in the air, along with this brethren, holding his tankard of ale as it spilled, laughing as he was jostled in the air. Thor reached over and clinked tankards with Reece, also on a stranger’s shoulders, off-balance, laughing. He swayed and eventually fell off, landing on his feet with the others.

Songs and dancing broke out everywhere, and Thor found himself locking arms with some woman he did not recognize, a stranger who grabbed his arm and danced with him in circles, spinning him around and around, in one direction, then the other. Thor, caught off-guard, finally broke away; he did not want to dance with her. Although all the other Legion members were dancing with random strangers, Thor did not want to be with anyone else. He only wanted Gwendolyn.