Morgan Rice: A Sea of Shields

Reece felt overwhelmed to hear all this. He’d had no idea. He’d always wondered how Stara had felt about him after the rift. Hearing this, he felt a stronger attachment to her than ever. He knew now that it was not just he that had felt that way. He did not feel as crazy. What they had was, indeed, real.

“And I never stopped dreaming of you,” Reece replied.

They finally reached the very peak of the mountain ridge, and they stopped and stood there side by side, looking out together over the Upper Isles. From this vantage point they could see forever, across the island chain to the ocean, the mist above it, the waves crashing below, Gwendolyn’s hundreds of ships lined up along the rocky shores.

They stood there in silence for a very long time, holding hands, savoring the moment. Savoring being together, finally, after all these years and all these people and life events striving to keep them apart.

“Finally, we are here, together—and yet ironically, it is now that you are most bound, with your wedding days away. It seems as if there is always something destined to come between us.”

“And yet I am here today,” Reece replied. “Perhaps destiny is telling us something else?”

She squeezed his hand tight, and Reece squeezed hers back. As they looked out, Reece’s heart pounded, and he felt more confused than he ever had in his life. Was all this meant to be? Was he meant to run into Stara here, to see her before his wedding, to prevent him from making a mistake and marrying someone else? Was destiny, after all these years, trying to bring them together after all?

Reece could not help but feel that it was so. He felt that he had run into her by some stroke of fate, perhaps to give him one last chance before his wedding.

“What the fates bring together, no man can tear apart,” Stara said.

Her words sank into Reece as she looked into his eyes, mesmerizing him.

“So many events in our lifetime have tried to keep us apart from each other,” Stara said. “Our clans. Our homelands. An ocean. Time…. Yet nothing has been able to keep us from each other. So many years have passed, and our love remains as strong. Is it a coincidence that you should see me before you are to marry? Fate is telling us something. It is not too late.”

Reece looked at her, his heart pounding. She looked at him, her translucent eyes reflecting the sky above and the ocean below, holding so much love for him. He felt more confused than ever, and unable to think clearly.

“Perhaps I should call the wedding off,” he said.

“It is not for me to tell you,” she replied. “You must search your own heart.”

“Right now,” he said, “my heart tells me you are the one I love. You are the one I’ve always loved.”

She looked back at him earnestly.

“I have never loved another,” she said.

Reece could not help himself. He leaned in, and his lips met hers. He felt the world melting all around him, felt immersed in love as she kissed him back.

They held the kiss until they could no longer breathe, until Reece realized, despite everything within him protesting otherwise, that he could never wed any other but Stara.

Gwendolyn stood on a golden bridge. Clutching its rail, she looked down over the edge and saw a raging river beneath her. The rapids roared with fury, rising ever higher as she watched. She could feel their spray even from here.

“Gwendolyn, my love.”

Gwen turned to see Thorgrin standing on the far shore, perhaps twenty feet away, smiling, holding out a hand.

“Come to me,” he pleaded. “Cross the river.”

Relieved to see him, Gwen began to walk toward him—until another voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Mother,” came a soft-spoken voice.

Gwen spun to see a boy standing on the opposite shore. Perhaps ten, he was tall, proud, broad-shouldered, with a noble chin, a strong jaw, and glistening gray eyes. Like his father. He wore a beautiful, shining armor, of a material she did not recognize, and had warrior’s weapons around his belt. She could sense his power even from here. An unstoppable power.

“Mother, I need you,” he said.

The boy reached out a hand, and Gwen started toward him.

Gwen stopped and looked back and forth between Thor and her son, each extending a hand, and she felt torn, conflicted. She did not know which way to go.

Suddenly, as she stood there, the bridge collapsed beneath her.

Gwendolyn screamed as she felt herself plunging into the rapids below.

Gwen fell into the icy water with a shock and tumbled and turned through the raging waters. She bobbed up, gasping for air, and looked back to see her son and her husband, standing on opposite shores, each holding out their hands, each needing her.

“Thorgrin!” she yelled out. Then: “My son!”

Gwen reached for them both, screaming—but she soon felt herself plummeting over the edge of a waterfall.

Gwen shrieked as she lost sight of them and dropped hundreds of feet toward sharp rocks below.

Gwendolyn woke screaming.

She looked all around, covered in a cold sweat, confused, wondering where she was.

She slowly realized she lay in a bed, in a dim castle chamber, torches flickering along the walls. She blinked several times, trying to understand what had happened, still breathing hard. Slowly, she realized it was all just a dream. A horrible dream.

Gwen’s eyes adjusted, and she spotted several attendants standing about the room. She noticed Illepra and Selese standing on either side of her, running cold compresses along her arms and legs. Selese wiped her forehead gently.

“Shhh,” Selese comforted. “It was just a dream, my lady.”

Gwendolyn felt a hand squeeze hers, and she looked over and her heart lifted to see Thorgrin. He knelt by her bedside, holding her hand, his eyes alight with joy to see her awake.

“My love,” he said. “You are okay.”

Gwendolyn blinked, trying to figure out where she was, why she was in bed, what all these people were doing here. Then suddenly, as she tried to move, she felt an awful pain in her stomach—and she remembered.

“My baby!” she called out, suddenly frantic. “Where is he? Does the boy live?”

Gwen, desperate, studied the faces around her. Thor clasped her hand firmly and smiled wide, and she knew all was okay. She felt her entire life reassured by that smile.

“He lives, indeed,” Thor replied. “Thanks to god. And to Ralibar. Ralibar flew you both here, just in time.”

“He is perfectly healthy,” Selese added.

Suddenly, a cry tore through the air, and Gwendolyn looked over to see Illepra step forward, holding the crying baby bundled in a blanket in her arms.

Gwendolyn’s heart flooded with relief, and she burst into tears. She started crying hysterically, weeping at the sight of him. She was so relieved, tears of joy washed over her. The baby was alive. She was alive. They had survived. Somehow, they had made it through this terrible nightmare.

She had never felt more grateful in her life.

Illepra leaned forward and placed the baby on Gwen’s chest.

Gwendolyn sat up and looked down, examining him. She felt reborn at the touch of him, the weight of him in her arms, his smell, the way he looked. She rocked him and held him tight, all swaddled up in blankets. Gwendolyn felt herself filled with waves of love for him, with gratitude. She could hardly believe it; she had a baby.

As he was placed her arms, the baby suddenly stopped crying. He became very still, and he turned, opened his eyes, and looked right at her.

Gwen felt a jolt of shock race through her body as their eyes locked. The baby had Thor’s eyes—gray, sparkling eyes that seemed to come from another dimension. They stared right through her. As she stared back, Gwendolyn felt as if she had known him from another time. For all time.