Morgan Rice - The Gift of Battle

“NO!” Thor yelled, realizing.

Thor ran for him, the last few feet, trying to grab him to save him in time.

But it was too late.

Argon walked to the rail, and slowly, gracefully, dove off of it, arms out wide by his side.

Thor watched in horror as he plummeted. As he did, the shaft of light followed him, swirling all different colors.

“ARGON!” Thorgrin shrieked.

Argon fell straight down in a swan dive, right into the mists of the Canyon, and disappeared from Thorgrin’s eyes forever.

Thorgrin felt his heart torn to pieces as he watched, knowing this time Argon was truly gone forever.

And Thor was equally shocked to see there rise out of the mist, right where Argon had fell, a single weapon, illuminated in the shaft of light.

It rose higher and higher, then floated right to him, right into his palm. It was a perfect fit.

The Destiny Sword.

It was his, once again.

The Destiny Sword vibrated and pulsed in Thor’s hand, and as the Sorcerer’s Ring shone, Thor felt himself having a power unlike any he’d ever known. He felt a driving vengeance to end this war, for himself, for Gwendolyn, for the Ring, for Argon.

Thor turned and, facing the gargoyles with a new energy, leapt into action. He leapt up into the air, slashing wildly, meeting them on their own terms, and cut through them like butter, their screeches filling the air as he felled them in every direction. They dropped all around him in heaps, until the surviving gargoyles finally turned and flew off in fear.

Thorgrin stood there in the center of the bridge, his people still being attacked in the Ring, and he sensed that the Shield was almost ready to rise again. But there was still one last task he had left to perform.

The skies thundered and all the remaining gargoyles quickly parted, as plunging down there appeared Thor’s nemesis: The Blood Lord. He landed before Thorgrin in the center of the bridge, holding a massive halberd, sneering back, twice Thor’s size, all muscle. Thor stood his ground, facing him, wielding the Destiny Sword, and he knew that this would the most important battle he’d ever fought. The one that defined him for all time. The one that decided the fate of his people.

Thor could see the armies lined up on both sides, watching this epic fight, knowing the results would dictate the future for them both.

As the Blood Lord approached, Thor was on guard, remembering he had been defeated by him once, and sensing within him an energy more evil than any he had ever known.

As Thor faced him, examined him, he sensed something—and suddenly had a realization.

“You are my father, reborn,” Thor said, realizing. “You are Andronicus.”

The Blood Lord grinned down at him with an evil grin.

“I warned you I would haunt you,” he replied, “that my spirit would live on. That you would have to face me one last time. Now I shall kill you for good, and take back what is mine—my bloodline—Guwayne.”

Thor, filled with fury at the thought, felt the Destiny Sword itching in his palm. He threw it back and forth, from palm to palm, ready.

“Let us meet then, Father,” he said. “Finally, let father and son embrace!”

Thorgrin raised his sword and the Blood Lord raised his halberd, and the two of them rushed each other, meeting in the center of the bridge like rams, in a clash of arms, a clang of metal, that echoed throughout the Canyon.

Back and forth they went, Thor slashing and the Blood Lord blocking, each with a weapon powerful enough to destroy the world, and each well matched against the other. Thor sensed this was an epic battle between light and darkness, one which held the very fate of the world in the balance. He was facing off, he knew, with the most powerful demon in the world, more powerful even than all the Empire. Thor sensed that the Blood Lord was an amalgamation of dark forces, all released from the darkest corners of the world and coming together in one being.

As they fought, slashing and blocking, Thor ducking and whirling, he knew the Shield would never be restored until the Blood Lord was finished, until he defeated this final, and worst, enemy. He would also be defeating his father, and a piece of himself.

“You cannot defeat me,” the Blood Lord said, as he blocked a blow from the Destiny Sword, turning his halberd sideways, then shoved Thor, sending him stumbling back. “Because I am you. Search deep inside, and you can feel it. I am the darkness within you.”

He rushed forward, swinging the halberd, and Thor was amazed at how fast it came down, slicing through the air even though it was so huge, so unwieldy in his hands. If he had been anyone else, Thor knew, that blow would have sliced him in half.

But some instinct kicked in Thor, propelled by the Sorcerer’s Ring, that allowed him to jump out of the way at the last second. The halberd just missed, Thor feeling the wind of it.

The Blood Lord’s eyes widened in surprise, as if he had not expected this. He then swung around, raised the halberd high, and brought it down with both hands, as if to chop Thor in half.

Thor jumped back, and the halberd lodged itself into the stone of the bridge, embedding itself almost a foot deep as it cut through the stone, the sound of it echoing off the Canyon walls as if thunder had just struck.

The Blood Lord growled, infuriated; Thor was certain his weapon was stuck, but the Blood Lord surprised him by yanking it out smoothly, as if it were nothing, and charging again.

As the halberd came down again for his head, this time Thor raised the Destiny Sword and blocked the blow with a clang, sparks flying everywhere, holding it in place overhead. The clang was so loud it, it echoed throughout the cliffs of the Canyon.

The Blood Lord swung the halberd around again and again, from side to side, each time Thor blocking. Thor was surprised to realize that it was difficult to block each blow, so powerful, even with the Sorcerer’s Ring, even with the Destiny Sword. He realized that any of these blows would have cut an army in half. They were two titanic forces, two titanic weapons smashing into each other.

Thor, after being backed up by dozens of blows, felt a heat beginning to rise in his palms, felt the power of the Destiny Sword beginning to well up within him. It forced him to raise his arms in one quick gesture, swing the Destiny Sword around and down, both arms above his head, and bring it straight down for the Blood Lord. It came down with more power and strength than he had ever felt, and with a greater speed, and he felt certain it would slice the Blood Lord in two.

But he turned his halberd and blocked, and Thor was amazed to see him able to stop the blow, albeit with shaking hands. Thor saw the shocked expression on the Blood Lord’s face, and knew he was surprised, did not expect a blow of such force.

Back and forth they went, swinging and blocking, parrying and ducking and dodging and slashing and stabbing. Neither could land a blow. They were perfectly matched, their great clangs ringing out again and again, like two mountains colliding with each other, as they pushed each other back and forth the Canyon bridge.

As Thor blocked a blow overhead, his arms shaking, beginning to tire, the Blood Lord surprised him by immediately swinging around for a second blow. Thor blocked, but it threw him off balance, and he found himself stumbling to the side, to the edge of the stone railing lining the bridge.

Before he could regroup, Thor suddenly felt rough hands grab him from behind, felt himself hoisted high in the air, and found himself weightless, up high, and looking down over the edge of the Canyon.

Thor could hear his people gasp, thousands of them, as his life hung in the balance.