Morgan Rice - A Rule of Queens

Suddenly there came a tremendous buzzing in the air, and Thor turned and drew his sword. He saw hundreds of small gargoyle-like creatures flying through the air, swarming right for him and his men. Beside him Thor heard his brothers draw their swords, too. It felt good to enter battle with Conval back by his side again.

As Thor faced off against these creatures, he felt himself on fire, coursing with a determination stronger than he’d ever felt. His son was up above, alive somewhere, and that was all that mattered to him. He would defeat all these creatures, or die trying.

Thor could not wait. He let out a great battle cry and charged forward to meet them. He used his power to lift himself up into the air, to slash his sword with the strength of a hundred men, and to slice through one red gargoyle after the next. A horrific screeching noise rose up as he slashed their wings from their bodies, and one by one, they fell to the ground.

Thor ducked from their snapping jaws and sharp teeth as they dove down at him, their large yellow eyes aglow. He landed on the ground and immediately turned and swung as the huge soldiers charged him, their flaming halberds out in front.

Thor wheeled and sliced their halberds in half, one after the other. Again and again they came to him, an endless stream, and more than one blow snuck through. Thor screamed out as the flaming tip of a halberd sliced his bicep, leaving a burn mark.

But Thor would not back down; he turned and smashed them in the face with the hilt of his sword, ducked as one jabbed for his head, spun around and slashed another. He summoned every power, recalled his training and summoned every technique he had ever learned, and threw himself into the fray with abandon, fighting hand-to-hand, blow for blow.

All around Thorgrin, his brothers did the same. Conval stepped forward with his great spear and plunged it through two soldiers’ throats, while Conven, at his brother’s back, swung his mace, taking out three soldiers who tried to stab his brother.

O’Connor raised his bow and fired, taking several gargoyles out of the air, dropping them like flies to the ground before they could attack his brothers. Matus lunged forward with his flail, swinging, and created a wide perimeter around them, taking out all manner of creatures that descended on them from the sky, and more than one of the huge soldiers wielding halberds.

Reece pushed Selese back to safety with King MacGil and drew his sword and threw himself with abandon into the melee, slicing and slashing and blocking left and right. He fought his way right up beside Thor, and more than once, blocked a fatal blow he had not been suspecting. Thor returned the favor, swinging around and using his sword to stop the blow of a flaming halberd right before it plunged into Reece’s throat. As Thor held the halberd back, his sword locked with it, his arms shaking, Reece could feel the flames but an inch from his face, nearly searing it. Finally, Reece leaned back and kicked the soldier, and he and Thor both pounced on him each stabbing him at the same time.

Elden charged into the fray with his doubled-handed war ax, swinging great blows that took out two warriors at a time. A gargoyle dove down and landed on the back of Elden’s neck, and Elden cried out as it clawed him. Indra drew her sling, took aim, and fired, hitting the creature with a large black stone a moment before it could sink its fangs into Elden’s neck. She then hurled three more stones in quick succession, taking out several beasts before they could sink their halberds into Elden’s side.

The beasts were powerful, though, and they seemed to never stop coming, and Thor and his men, after their first initial win, began to tire. Matus swung his flail and a beast caught it in his halberd and yanked the flail out of Matus’s hand, leaving him defenseless. Another of the King’s soldiers stepped forward and stabbed him, piercing Matus’s arm with his halberd, making Matus scream out in pain.

The gargoyles, too, flew in a steady stream, and while O’Connor aimed his bow up at them, one of them swatted it from his hands, while three of them descended on him from behind, landing on his shoulders, biting his neck. O’Connor cried out and dropped to his knees, flailing, reaching back and trying desperately to get them off of him.

Elden swung his wide ax and chopped one a beast in half—but the blow left his back exposed, and another beast swung down with the side of his halberd and brought it down on Elden’s exposed back, the side of the metal cracking his back, and the shaft splintering in half. Elden, stung by the blow, dropped to his knees.

Indra stepped forward and elbowed the creature in the throat before it could finish Elden off, sparing him; but a gargoyle then descended on her, biting her wrist, making her drop her sling and clutch her arm in pain.

Reece, surrounded and in the thick of the battle beside Thor, slashed and parried every which way, but he could not fight from every side, and soon, exposed, he was pierced in the side by a halberd, and he shrieked out in pain.

Thor, completely surrounded, sweat stinging his eyes, slashed and stabbed furiously in every direction, killing creatures left and right, fighting for his life. But he was running out of steam, struggling to catch his breath. However many creatures he killed, five more appeared. The buzzing filled his ears, as his ranks dwindled, and creatures descended upon him from every possible direction.

Thor knew, even as he fought, that this was a battle he could not win. That he would soon be condemned to an eternal hell of endless grief and torture.

A soldier charged from Thor’s blind spot, swung his halberd, and knocked the sword from Thor’s hand. It hit the black granite floor with a clang, and Thor was then elbowed in his back. He dropped to his knees, winded, defenseless, closed in on from every direction.

In the chaos, Thor closed his eyes and found a moment of peace. As he felt his life about to end, he retreated to a deeper part of himself. He thought of his mother, of Argon, of all the skills and powers they had taught him, and he knew, deep down, that this was just another test. A supreme test. He knew he was being handed it to rise above all of this. He knew, however impossible it seemed, that he had the power deep within him to overcome all of this. Even here, in the land of the dead, below the earth. The universe was still the universe, and he still had dominion over it. He knew that he was denying his power, once again.

A realization suddenly flashed over him:

I am bigger than death. I only die if I choose to die. If I want to live, if I truly want to live, I can never die. All death is suicide.

All death is suicide.

Thor felt a sudden burning coursing in his palms, between his eyes, and he leapt to his feet with an enormous amount of strength, more than anything he’d ever encountered. He leapt up twenty feet in the air, just missing the halberds as they struck for him, flying over their heads, and landing on the other side of the hordes.

Thor found himself landing right before the sword—the Sword of the Dead. He looked at it, immersed in the rock, and felt its power. He felt as he’d felt that day he had drawn the Destiny Sword. He felt that it was his. That it was always his. That he was meant to wield more than one special weapon in the life—he was meant to wield many.

Thor reached forward and with a great cry, grabbed the Sword of the Dead, his hands wrapping around the smooth ivory hilt, and yanked it up with all his might.

To his amazement, it began to move. With a sound like that of the earth tearing apart, stone being torn in two, the ground trembled, and the sword slowly rose.

Thor held the sword high overhead, feeling triumphant, feeling its power course through him, feeling one with it. He felt that his power was limitless. Even over death.