Morgan Rice - A Land of Fire

Thor leaned his head back, exhausted, slipping away to the blackness, feeling his life force ebb, and he tried to be grateful. It was hard, so hard. He felt as if he’d already lived many lifetimes, and he was deeply exhausted.

There came another gushing sound, and Thor looked up and saw more water rush down into the belly of the whale, and yet more fish, along with other strange sea animals. This whale’s appetite obviously was insatiable.

With each gush of water, Thor felt the water level rising, felt it rise from his ankles to his knees as he lay along the side of the wall. There came still another gush of water, and the level rose again, now up to his thighs. Thor knew that if he did not get out of here soon, he would drown in this awful place.

Drained from his wounds, Thor could barely keep his eyes open. If he were destined to die here, he realized, then so be it. For now, there was nothing more he could do than allow his heavy eyes to close, allow himself to be carried away by sweet sleep.

Thor’s eyes opened and closed as he moved in and out of consciousness for he did not know how long. He saw flashes, memories, perhaps glimpses of the future. He saw Mycoples’s face, then Ralibar’s. He saw himself flying on Mycoples, under a perfect clear sky, Mycoples happier than he’d ever seen her. He saw them both criss-crossing each other, flying beside each other, both of them young and healthy and happy. He could feel how much they loved him.

Thor looked down into Mycoples’s face.

“I’m sorry that I let you down,” he said.

You’ve never let me down, Thorgrin. You gave me a chance to truly live.

Thor blinked and found himself standing in the skywalk, in the Land of the Druids. But this time, he was not facing his mother’s castle, but facing the mainland, walking away from the castle, his back to it. His mother, he sensed, was somewhere behind him, and yet as much as he wanted to, he was unable to look back.

“Go, Thorgrin,” came her voice. “It is time for you to walk. Alone. It is time for you to leave this place, to venture out into the world. Only out in the world, on an unknown path, will you become a great warrior.”

Thor took one step down the skywalk, then the next. Step by step, he walked alone, away from the castle, from the cliff, feeling his mother’s presence behind him but unable to turn back. He did not know where the path would take him, but he knew he was meant to be on it.

Thor blinked and found himself standing on a foreign shore with bright yellow sand, a million small stones sparkling within it. He saw a small, lone boat on the shore, and a small baby inside, crying. Thor walked over to it and leaned down, his heart pounding at the thought of seeing his son again.

He looked down and his heart lifted to see Guwayne, looking back with Thor’s same gray eyes. Thor reached out to grab him.

As he did, suddenly, savage tribesmen appeared and snatched the boy away, and turned and ran. Thor watched in horror as dozens of tribesmen ran off with Guwayne, screaming and reaching out for him.

“NO!” Thor yelled.

He tried to run for him, but he looked down to find his feet stuck in the sand.

Suddenly, the sand opened up, and Thor was sucked down into the sand, which turned to waters, and sucked back into the ocean. He sank, shrieking, lower and lower, sinking into the blackness.

Thor opened his eyes to hear another gushing of water, and he looked up to see water once again pouring down from the whale’s throat to its belly, filling it up. He looked down and saw the water was now up to his chest.

Thor, still breathing hard from his nightmare, tried to escape the rising tide—but the next gush brought the water up to his throat. Thor realized that his time here was scarce. In a few moments, he would drown.

Thor closed his eyes and thought of Gwendolyn, of Guwayne, of all those he’d known and loved. He thought of his son, needing him; of Gwendolyn, needing him. He felt the bracelet on his wrist, and he thought of his mother, of Alistair, of Ralibar and Mycoples. No one would know that he died down here.

I must do it for them , Thor thought. I must live for them.

Thor opened his eyes and felt himself infused with a sudden surge of strength. He sensed the very fabric of this whale, could sense that they were all a part of the same universe. And that he could change that universe.

Thor closed his eyes and raised his palms overhead, and he felt tremendous heat emanating from them. Beams of light shot forth from them, into the belly of the whale, and they became like ropes, pulling Thor up, just before the next wave of water drowned him, high above the water, higher and higher. He soon dangled above the pool of water below, and as he swung there, he focused.

I command you, whale. Rise to the surface. Let me out. Because I deserve to live. For everyone I’ve ever known in my life, for everyone who ever sacrificed for me, and for everyone who I will ever sacrifice for, I deserve to live.

There came a distant roar, echoing inside the belly, and Thor suddenly felt the whale change direction, turning upward, shooting up at full speed, heading for the surface. It rose faster and faster, the lights from Thor’s palms keeping him dangling from the ceiling as he held on.

Finally, the whale broke the surface and Thor felt it rising in the air in a high arc, and then landing back on the surface, splashing, its entire belly shaking.

It sat there, still, flat on the surface of the ocean, and as Thor peered into its throat, he suddenly saw daylight. The whale opened its jaws, light flooding in through its massive teeth, and as it did, Thor released himself from the ceiling and dove into the whale’s throat.

This time the flood of waters took him back down the whale’s throat, toward sunlight. Thor went sliding along, back down the whale’s long, slimy tongue, slipping every which way.

Thor soon found himself sliding through the whale’s teeth, out of his mouth, and back out into daylight, onto the surface of the water.

Thor flailed in the open ocean, startled by how cold it was, and he reached out and grabbed onto several wooden planks of debris. As he lay there, floating, Thor turned and looked at the beast.

The whale stared back at Thor with its immense eye, unblinking, an ancient eye which seemed to hold all the knowledge and secrets of the world. It remained there, floating on the surface, examining Thor as if he were an old friend.

Finally, without warning, it lowered its head and dipped below the water, disappearing just as quickly as it had appeared. Thor was rocked by the waves left in its wake.

Thor, all alone again, floated there, exhausted, bent over the piece of debris. He looked out to the ocean hoping to see someone, something.

But there was nothing. He was all alone again, alive, but floating into nothingness, with no land in sight.

Gwen remained at the bow of her ship, even as it turned around, unable to pull herself away. She did not know that Thor was out there, that was true, and yet, somehow, heading south back toward where they had last seen the Empire fleet had made her feel better, as if she were getting closer to where she had last seen him. Maybe all the others had been right: maybe Thor was not there at all. Maybe, even, she hated to think, he was dead.

But as they sailed away, Gwen could not ignore her inner instinct, could not ignore that small, irrational part of herself that insisted that Thor was alive, that he was out there, that he was waiting for her. She felt as if she were leaving the last great thing in her life behind. It made no rational sense, but something inside was screaming at her, telling her that she was making a mistake.