Morgan Rice - A Land of Fire

Thor, too weak to resist, embraced his fate, as the immense jaws of darkness clamped down on him, swallowing him. He slid into the blackness of the whale’s mouth, and as he began to slide down its throat, its stomach, his final thought was: I never thought I would die like this.

Gwen, standing at the bow of her ship, leaned over, clutched the baby, and peered into the ocean, searching for any sign of Thorgrin. On all sides of the ship her men also examined the waters.

“THORGRIN!” called out the sailors all around the ship—and this was echoed by the sailors on the other two other ships of her fleet. The three ships, spread a good hundred yards from each other, combed the waters together, all shouting Thor’s name. From the top of the masts, they tolled the bells, all three of them, intermittently, looking for any sign of him.

Gwendolyn felt like weeping inside. She had been unable to find Guwayne, and now she had no sign of Thor. She hated this ocean, cursed the day that she ever set sail from the Ring. She knew her chances were grim. Thor and Mycoples had ridden fearlessly into battle, one dragon against dozens, and even if they managed to vanquish them, how could Thor defeat Romulus’s entire fleet? How could he possibly survive?

At the same time, Gwendolyn knew, by sailing in this direction, she was endangering her men, bringing them closer and closer to Romulus’s fleet.

Gwen heard a sudden cracking noise down below at the hull, and she looked over the edge, startled. Below she spotted debris—planks, an old mast, a remnant of a sail… She scanned the waters, looking closely, and saw a vast sea of debris.

“What can it be?” came the voice.

Gwendolyn turned to see Kendrick by her side, Reece coming up on her other side, along with Godfrey and Steffen, all of them joining her and looking down in wonder.

“Look! The Empire banner!” Steffen called out, pointing.

Gwen looked, saw the soiled and torn flag, and realize he was correct.

“This is Empire debris,” Reece said, stating what was on everyone’s minds.

“But how?” Godfrey asked. “The entire Empire fleet destroyed? How is it possible?”

Gwen searched the skies for any sign of Thorgrin, wondering. Had he done this?

“It was Thorgrin,” Gwen said, hoping it to be true, willing it to be true. “He destroyed them all.”

“Then where is he?” Kendrick asked. The bells continued to toll as they headed south, further out into this sea. “I see no sign of Mycoples.”

“I do now know,” Gwen replied. “But even if Mycoples is dead, Thor might be alive. If there is debris, Thor might be floating on it.”

“My lady,” came a voice.

She turned to see Aberthol standing close by.

“I love Thorgrin as much as anyone here. But you do realize we are sailing closer and closer to the Empire. Even if Romulus’s fleet is destroyed, surely his million-man army remains on the mainland of the Ring. We cannot head back to the Ring. We must find a new home, set sail in a new direction. You want to find Thorgrin, and I admire that. But it’s been days, and still we have no sign of him. We have limited provisions. Our people are starving. They’re homeless, have lost loved ones, and are mad with grief. They are desperate for direction. We need food and shelter. We are running out of provisions.”

She knew he was right. Her people needed another direction.

“Our people need you,” Srog added.

Gwen stared out into the horizon, holding the baby, and still there was no sign of Thor. She closed her eyes, wiping a tear, and she willed God to answer. Why did life have to be so hard?

Please, God, tell me where he is. I will give you anything. Just let me save him. If I cannot save my son, let me save him. Please, don’t let me lose them both.

Gwendolyn waited, very still, hoping for a response. She opened her eyes, hoping for a sign, anything, something.

But none came.

She felt hollowed out. Abandoned.

Resolved, she finally turned and nodded to her men.

“Turn the fleet around,” she said. “We shall sail this time for land.”

“Turn the fleet!” echoed up and down the ships.

Everyone turned and looked in their new direction, except for Gwendolyn. She kept herself facing the direction they were sailing away from, her heart breaking, hoping for any sign of Thor.

As they began to drift further and further away, the debris getting smaller, Gwen felt every good thing left in the world being stripped from her. Was that what it meant to be Queen? Did it mean you cared more for your people than for your family? For your very own self? At this moment, being Queen was what Gwendolyn no longer wanted. At this moment, she hated her people, hated everything about being Queen. She wanted only Thorgrin and her son, and nothing else.

But as they set sail in a new direction, as the bells tolled on the masts, she knew it was not meant to be, and they felt like bells tolling on her heart.

Thor tried to grab onto something, anything, as he felt himself sliding down a slimy tunnel, in a gush of liquid and seawater—but there was nothing to hang onto. As the world rushed by him in this cacophonous tunnel, he realized he was being washed down into the belly of this beast. The blackness deepened, and he braced himself for death.

Thor slid deeper and deeper down the contours of the beast’s endlessly long throat—it felt like hundreds of feet—until finally he found himself ejected into a huge cavernous space. He went flying through the air, shouting as he plummeted a good twenty feet, until he finally landed in a pool of water, up to his knees, on a soft surface. He realized he must have landed on the whale’s soft stomach.

As Thor lay in the shallow water, wondering if he was dead, he heard his own breathing echo in the blackness; water swished gently back and forth on the whale’s stomach as it moved through the sea. Thor imagined the whale swimming through the ocean, turning side to side, diving up and down. He could faintly hear all the sounds of the ocean outside, dim from here, muted.

Thor tried to stand but stumbled as the whale raced along the ocean. There came a loud gushing noise, and Thor looked up and felt a gush of water come down on his head, along with several fish flying down through the air, landing in the belly with him. Some of them were luminescent fish, and as they landed they emitted a soft glow, lighting up the whale’s belly. Thor could finally see in here, no longer in utter blackness.

A part of him wished he was. Thor looked up and was repulsed by the inner lining of the whale’s belly, skin hanging off of it in pieces, remnants of dead fish and insects clinging to it, and on its floor. Strange valves opened and closed, muscles and intestines contracted and expanded, emitting bad odors, and Thor took it all in in wonder.

Thor leaned his head back against the stomach wall and breathed deeply, exhausted; his wounds were still killing him, and he felt as if he’d come to the depths of his life. He sensed there was no way out of here; he had finally come to the end.

Thor closed his eyes and shook his head.

Why, God? Why am I being tested like this?

Thor lay there for a very long time in the darkness, and finally he heard an answer. It was a small voice, inside his head.

Because you are a great warrior. The greatest warriors are always tested the most.

“But have I not already proven myself?” Thor asked aloud.

Each time you prove yourself, you will be tested again. Each time, the tests will become greater. The more you struggle, the greater person you can become. Each test is not a difficulty—it is a precious opportunity. Be thankful for it. The more you suffer, the more thankful you must be.