Morgan Rice - The Gift of Battle

“Thor, look!” cried out an excited girl’s voice.

Thor turned at the familiar voice, and was thrilled, as he always was, to see Angel, running up him, beaming, her new friend Jasmine at her side. Thor was especially happy to see Angel perfectly healthy, healed from her leprosy, as she had been ever since he had retrieved the Sorcerer’s Ring and raised the Shield. Happy, beaming, healthy, she was like a different kid.

Especially now, that she had a new best friend in Jasmine—who seemed equally delighted to have her. Jasmine never stopped carrying her books, and Angel, book-starved from all her years on an island, could never get enough of hearing Jasmine’s long, scholarly monologues.

“Do you like my dress?” she asked, excited.

“Will we make the perfect flower girls?” Jasmine echoed.

Thor grinned as he looked down and saw them both in beautiful, white silk dresses, white roses in their hair, each so excited.

“You couldn’t be more perfect,” he said.

“I shall get married just to see the two of you walk down the aisle looking the way you do!” Gwen added.

They both giggled with delight and pride.

“Krohn is trying to get your attention!” Angel added.

Thor heard a whining and he looked down to see Krohn at his heels, struggling to catch up. He clearly wanted Thor’s attention, and he turned and saw not far away, Krohn’s five new cubs, with their mother, a female leopard. Thor smiled wide, realizing how proud Krohn was, and patted him on the head, leaned down, and kissed him.

As he did, Thor heard a jealous screech, and he looked up to see Lycoples suddenly swoop down, much bigger now than ever, land before them, and lower his head, waiting. Thor and Gwen stepped forward, stroking it, and Thor laughed.

“Don’t be jealous,” he said to Lycoples.

Lycoples screeched, flapped her wings, then took off, circling high in the sky.

“Let’s chase her!” Angel cried out in delight, and the two of them ran off, giggling, trying to chase after Lycoples’ trail in the sky.

Thor took Gwen’s hand again and they continued walking, Thor leading Gwen to a spot that was sacred to him. The Kolvian Cliffs. This place had survived the war, the great invasion, and was much like it had always been, giving Thor a peaceful feeling. This had always been a special place for him, the place they had buried King MacGil, a place he could get away, have peace, solace, and look out, from the highest point, over the Kingdom. Thor held Gwen’s hand as the two of them stood there, looking out together, at the vast empty sky, the setting suns, both red now, the sky streaked with a million colors, so perfect for their wedding day. Looking out, it was as if the world were being born anew. As if hope were springing up again.

As they stood there, far from the throngs, alone, peaceful, just the two of them, Thor could feel Gwen’s palm in his, and he reflected. He was flooded with memories. He remembered his first appearance in King’s Court, arriving here as just a boy, being so intimidated by this place; he remembered the first time he had lain eyes upon Gwendolyn, how tongue-tied he had been; he remembered the first time he had met Reece, remembered his joining the Legion. He remembered The Hundred, his training, all the men he had learned from, fought with. He remembered Argon’s lessons, his counsel, and it was a presence he missed dearly.

He thought of his journey, how he had started out as just another boy with big dreams, a boy with no riches, no connections, no special skills. A boy who had been laughed at when he had arrived here—and yet who now, somehow, had achieved it all. He felt, most of all, a deep sense of gratitude. He knew that he had been very blessed.

Thor remembered, too, all the darkness. He remembered the trials, the assassinations, the demons, the destruction. The long, cold exile. He remembered all the times when he was sure he would not make it, sure that he could go no further. He thought back on all the hardship, and despite it all, he realized that if given the chance, he would not hesitate to choose to do it all over again. Because his quests were never for the sake of riches, or gain, or titles, or fame, or power—they were always for the sake of honor. It was honor that drove him, and that always would.

Most of all, he remembered how much he loved Gwendolyn. She had been with him from the start, had taken a chance on him, just a boy, despite his position, despite his rank—and her love had never wavered. She had continued to love him all the way through their separation, had never given up hope, had survived, he was sure of it, so that they could be together again. It was her love, he realized, that sustained him most of all, that kept him going through all those hard times, that had given him a reason to live. Somehow he had always known they were destined to be together, and that nothing, no armies, no exile, no war, would ever keep them apart.

Now, as he stood there, holding her hand, watching the sun set, Thor marveled at how it all had come full circle, at how mysterious life was.

“What is it, my lord?” Gwen asked, squeezing his hand.

Thor shook his head and smiled, turning to her.

“I’m just remembering, my love.”

She looked out at the sunset, too, and she nodded, understanding.

“I think of my father in this place,” she said sadly. “So much we have lost. And yet so much gained.”

Thor could feel King MacGil’s spirit hovering over them in approval, along with Argon’s. He thought of everyone he had loved and lost, and he felt his mother with them too. Finally, his quests were over.

Yet he also wondered. He knew the Shield was strong, knew that all those Empire forces out there could never penetrate it again. He knew he had nothing to fear, outside or inside the Ring. They were safer than they had been even in King MacGil’s time.

Yet he also could not help but think of the prophecies, of the price he would have to pay for his sacrifice. Of the prophecy about his son, Guwayne, that he would one day rise to become a dark lord, more powerful even than Thorgrin. Thor looked down at the Sorcerer’s Ring on his finger, at the Destiny Sword on his belt, and he wondered if that could be possible. He shuddered, thinking of the day. He pictured Guwayne, so pure, so innocent, thought of his intense love for him, and he could not imagine how it could be possible.

Just sorcerer’s words , he thought.

Thor shook the prophecy from his mind, shook all dark thoughts from his mind. Now was not a time for brooding. Now was a time for joy. Unequivocal joy.

“Thorgrin! Gwendolyn!”

Thor turned with Gwen, and he was thrilled to see a group of men and a group of women, all dressed in their finest, approach: the grooms and brides. Kendrick, Erec, Reece, Darius, Elden, and Godfrey walked in one group, Dray at their heels, while Sandara, Alistair, Stara, Loti, Indra, and Illepra walked in the other. The six other couples, all set to be married with them today.

Illepra held Guwayne, and Alistair held her baby girl, now nearly one year old, the most beautiful baby girl Thor had ever seen, her eyes light blue, shining like her mother’s. Thor knew she would grow up with Guwayne, that she, his sister’s child, would have a fate inextricably linked with his son’s. He could not help but wonder what would become of the next generation.

Godfrey held out a sack of wine for Thorgrin, while Illepra held one out for Gwendolyn, and Thor could see all the brides- and grooms-to-be were each already holding one. As the sun began to set, they all had such joy on their faces, faces filled with the expectation of the glorious wedding to come.

Godfrey raised his sack for a toast, and as all the others leaned in; Thorgrin did, too. They stood there against the setting sun, and Thor looked out at their faces, illuminated in the last light of day, these people he loved and respected the most. It was a privilege, he realized, to be able to fight by their side.