Morgan Rice - A Sky of Spells

“A stream of humanity,” Thor observed. “People of all walks want to come back to King’s Court, to celebrate. They all have faith in you.”

“We will rebuild it,” Gwen said. “Stone by stone. We shall make it as great a city as it ever was. And the centerpiece of all the celebrations will be our wedding. It will be the most magnificent wedding the Ring has ever witnessed. It shall be followed by our baby. Everything will be new again, and our people will rise from the ashes. We will do it together. Our love will build it.”

They leaned in and kissed, and they held the kiss as the final light of the setting sun washed over them. Thor only wished he could hold the world this way forever.

Gwendolyn soared high in the air as she rode on the back of Ralibar, clutching on for dear life, as she always did when she rode him, trying to predict his unpredictable temper. Ralibar dipped in and out of the clouds, dove up and down, snorting, sometimes even arching back. He was the most strong-willed and temperamental creature she had ever met, and she could feel his emotions flaring within him.

Gwen was honored that Ralibar even let her ride him. She had discovered, moons ago, his fondness for her. Whenever Thorgrin went to ride Mycoples, Ralibar would become jealous and territorial, and would snort and shriek at Thor, trying to scare him away. Ralibar and Mycoples would stand off with each other, and it had been getting progressively worse—until one day, Gwendolyn had accompanied Thor to see him off, and they had all been shocked as Ralibar had turned to Gwendolyn, had lowered his head and, while first examining her suspiciously, had then leaned in and stroked her stomach with his face. Ralibar had purred softly, and for the first time ever, he had calmed.

Thor had watched in shock as Gwendolyn had reached up and stroked Ralibar’s face, nervous as she felt his rough scales, ancient and a little bit moist. Ralibar had then shocked them all even more by lowering his head all the way to the ground, a gesture meant for Gwen to ride him.

Gwendolyn had mounted him nervously, not sure what to expect. It had been a wild and crazy ride, and she was uncertain whether he actually wanted her on or not. Yet, still, he had sought her out every day since and had gestured for her to keep riding him.

For a beast who was clearly endeared to Gwendolyn, Ralibar had a funny way of showing it. From the outside, it might even seem as if he hated her. He was a moody and tempestuous creature, perpetually in some sort of emotional storm, whether at himself, or humans, or other dragons. Gwen felt compassion for him: she got the feeling that he was a loner, a malcontent, yet she sensed that, beneath it all, Ralibar had a big heart, and that he might just be lonely. He flew erratically, and often acted as if he wanted Gwen off of him; yet when she tried to dismount, he threw a fit, and thus clearly wanted her to stay.

Despite all his craziness, Gwen had taken a liking to him; he had an odd way of getting under her skin. Over these last several months, Gwen had grown accustomed to his moods, and had learned to read his signs. The bond between them grew ever stronger, and it made Gwen feel happy in a way she had not expected. She even sensed Ralibar’s moods starting to calm.

On this beautiful summer morning, in the picture-perfect weather, both suns shining, Gwen took her morning ride, as she always did. Nearby, Thorgrin rode Mycoples, the two of them lifting up into the air in the early morning sky, as they always did together, launching off from the top of King’s Castle, their dragons intertwining as they flew. They had developed a morning ritual, and they followed it today: they circled the grounds of King’s Court, then circled the towns and villages surrounding it, Gwen surveying her people, her kingdom, every single morning, to make sure all was in order.

Gwen loved this time together with Thor and with Ralibar and Mycoples, the most magical mornings of her life, watching the suns rise, watched the mists burn off the land below in all different colors. It also afforded her a bird’s eye view of her kingdom, and more than once she had spotted some trouble down below that she would have not seen otherwise, which made her convene her council and set wrongs right. She had spotted fires, small villages dilapidated, people injured or struggling with their horses and carts, roads in disrepair…an endless number of small fixes to her kingdom. It allowed her to be an omnipresent queen. It also was reassuring for her people to look up and see her every morning, watching over them, setting wrongs right, riding on the back of a dragon. It enforced her image as a woman of power.

Gwen had never anticipated that she would fall so comfortably into the role of queen. But now that six moons had passed since the expulsion of the Empire and her peoples’ return to King’s Court, since she had begun the process of re-establishing her rule, she had found that being queen came naturally to her. It had been the most glorious six moons of her life. She had grown closer to Thor than she could ever imagine, the two of them finally having a chance to be together every day and night, sleeping in her former parents’ chamber, in the castle, which she had painstakingly rebuilt.

Most glorious of all, she was now nine months pregnant, and her belly protruded more than she could ever imagine; she felt on the verge, any day, of giving birth. Her baby moved inside her all the time, and she felt his presence with her every moment, as if he were out there in the world with her right now.

She had not let it slow her down, however. Every day she had been focused on rebuilding, with Thor, her council, all the people she loved and trusted at her side, all working like an army to make King’s Court as magical and resplendent as it had once been. Gwen was determined that King’s Court become more than just a city: she wanted it to become a beacon of hope and optimism for all the survivors of the Ring. She wanted it to be a testament that they would all come back, even stronger than before.

To her amazement, she had succeeded. As Gwen looked down, circling the city, the summer wind in her hair, she was awestruck at how beautiful King’s Court has become. It shone in the sun, completely rebuilt and bigger than before, sprawling now for miles in each direction, greatly expanded. It was a greater and more foreboding city than her father had ever dreamed of. She had managed to double in size everything her father had done, adding bigger ramparts, turrets, forts, moats, widening roads, thickening city walls…. King’s Castle soared higher than ever, the Hall of Arms and the Hall of the Silver were rebuilt, and even the Legion grounds were back to what they once were. Thousands of her people had worked night and day to bringing it back to life. Looking at it now, one could not tell it was ever destroyed.

The work went one, as it did every day, and even from up here there could be heard the perpetual sound of chisels and anvils and hammers ringing through the air. It was the sound of progress, and it was a part of daily life in King’s Court now. As Gwen looked below, the sight amazed her anew each day, and she could hardly believe what she had accomplished. It made her feel that anything was possible. It made her realize that even if she reached the lowest and darkest times of her life, it was still possible to bounce back from anything—and make life even greater than it ever was.

As Gwen circled with Ralibar, she wondered what her father would think if he saw all this. Would he be proud? She had a feeling that he would. He had chosen her to rule, after all, and this would all be a testament to his choice. She wished more than anything that he was alive now to witness all this, yet she felt that he was watching with satisfaction.