Morgan Rice - A Sky of Spells

Gwen directed Ralibar to dive down to the left, and Thor followed on Mycoples. She flew over the outer ring of King’s Court, a new vast courtyard, replete with formal gardens and bubbling fountains, brand-new walls and arches. Gwen had it built of a shining white marble, mined from an ancient quarry, and it was, to Gwen’s eyes, the most beautiful part of King’s Court, this new courtyard which had never existed before. It was hard to imagine it now without it.

Even more exciting was the activity taking place down below, hundreds of workers scurrying about, working furiously to prepare for her wedding. They had been preparing for six moons, and the wedding had grown into a bigger and bigger affair. Scores of workers draped flowers of every color along the ancient stone walls, while others lined up thousands of chairs alongside a long red velvet aisle which was being rolled out. An altar was being constructed at the end of it, bedecked in flowers of every sort.

With the wedding just a half moon away, people were already pouring in from all corners of the Ring, from both sides of the Highlands, from the Upper Isles—and even from countries outside the Ring, a steady string of dignitaries visiting from lands far away. They had sent delegations and had crossed the ocean, and Gwen had the Shield lowered long enough to let them cross the Canyon. Gwen looked out at the wide road leading to King’s Court, and she saw, as she did every day, thousands of people heading for King’s Court. They wore brightly colored robes of every color and fashion, from every corner of the world.

Today was the day of the summer festival, the first reaping of fruits, and they all poured in to celebrate. There would be festivals and revelries unlike any other, lasting for days, especially as they were also coming to celebrate the new capitol of the ring, and to attend her wedding.

Gwen felt butterflies at the thought. The wedding was nearly here, but a half moon away. She felt her stomach flipping, and she hoped and prayed that the baby did not come before then. Over the last six moons, she and Thor had grown ever closer, and she could hardly wait to be married to him. She looked down and glanced at his mother’s ring shining on her hand, as she always did, and felt an amazing energy radiating off of it.

Ever since Thor had killed Andronicus, he had been like a different person. He seemed as if he had found some sort of peace within himself, and he had settled into domestic life with Gwendolyn quite well. He had thrown himself into the rebuilding of King’s Court, and of the Ring, and had trained every day with his fellow warriors, taking joy from their presence.

Ralibar suddenly jerked to the right and dove down unexpectedly, and Gwen held on tight as she felt her stomach plunging. She could sense by his movements that he was ravenous for his morning breakfast. She hugged his neck and leaned low as he turned for the forest, diving between the trees, scanning left and right for a meal.

“Ralibar, stop!” she commanded. “Not now!” she yelled, annoyed at his ravenous appetite.

But Ralibar, as usual, ignored her. He swerved in and out of the trees until he focused on a target, opened his great jaws, and snatched up a huge red deer.

Gwendolyn turned, hating to watch.

Ralibar lifted it in its jaws, then flew back up into the air, carrying the animal, protesting in its mouth, until he threw back his head and swallowed it.

Ralibar then set his sights back on the ground, and Gwen had a sinking feeling he was going to plummet again.

“Ralibar, NO!” she screamed.

He again ignored her. This time he set his sights on a lake, King’s Lake, his favorite. He never missed an opportunity to skim it.

Ralibar dove low, Gwen clutching him, and as he neared it, he opened his mouth and breathed a wall of flame.

The flames singed the water, steam rising off it, and as the water bubbled and heated up, scores of fish suddenly leapt out of it, into the air, trying to escape from the boiling waters. As they leapt, Ralibar was there, waiting, jaws open. He swallowed entire schools of fish, flopping in his great jaws, some of them falling back into the water, as he gulped the rest down.

Mycoples flew beside them, but she did not bother eating. Perhaps because she was female, she did not seem to have Ralibar’s appetite. Luckily, at least, Ralibar did not eat any humans.

A horn sounded in the distance, and Gwen was finally able to wrestle Ralibar away, and they all circled back around to see knights in armor holding lances and lining up on the far courtyard.

“The tournament begins!” Thorn yelled to her. “I must not be late!”

Gwen nodded and they all flew back towards King’s Court. The day’s tournaments and festivities were beginning, and she knew that also meant that people would be lining up to petition her. It was time to begin the daily business of ruling her kingdom. As always, it came too soon.

They both flew over King’s Court, the dragons flew together for a moment, and Thor reached out and took Gwen’s hand, leaned over and kissed it. Then they forked, each going their own way, Thor to the fields and Gwen to her castle. It was time for the day to begin.

Thor, in full armor, charged on his horse, galloping at full speed, his lance held out before him and his face plate down as he charged for his opponent. Charging him was a warrior from a land he’d never heard of, across the sea, wearing brown armor, a helmet with a long and pointed nose, his armor a strange combination of male and plate. His lance had strange markings, too, and as he aimed it for Thor’s chest, his lance longer, Thor concentrated with all his might, focusing on how best to defeat his opponent. Thor tuned in, tried to sense the vibrations of the ground beneath him; he felt the slight tremors, and he slowed things down his mind, until he felt the feelings of the horses, the weight of the riders, the angle of the lance. He sensed his opponent’s intentions. From his appearance, he appeared to be aiming high—yet Thor’s instinct told him he was going to aim low.

At the last moment, Thor adjusted accordingly, trusting his instincts, aiming his lance high, and dodging to the side. Thor’s lance impacted his opponent’s shoulder, knocking him back off his horse and sending him crashing to the ground in a great clang of metal.

There came a cheer from the crowd as his opponent rolled, bruised but unhurt.

Thor circled around, taking in the adulation from the huge crowd that lined up to watch the royal jousts, then jumped from his horse, made sure his opponent was okay, and extended a hand. The crowd cheered in approval as he did.

“I’ve never been defeated in battle,” the knight said. “Much less by someone younger than myself, or with a shorter lance. Well won!”

They clasped forearms, and they each led their horses by the reigns to the side of the grounds, making room for the next joust.

Thor was beginning to feel his muscles stiffening; it had been hours of jousting, a growing crowd lined up far and wide to watch the highlight of the day’s festivities. As Thor reached the side, Kendrick took his place, racing down the jousting lane and facing off against a knight whose armor came from a place Thor did not recognize.

The two charged, and Kendrick took out the soldier, to the cheers of the crowd. Thor cheered loudest of all.

Thor was elated to be here, on this day of the Summer Solstice, fighting with these great warriors, finally feeling as if he were one of them. For the first time, he no longer felt like an outsider.

Thor wanted to win on his own terms, as a regular warrior, with skills that matched others; he did not want to draw on his magical powers to influence his fight. So far, he had succeeded. While most of his friends had fallen, Thor had managed to make it to the final rounds of jousting, in the running with Kendrick, Erec, Conven, Elden, Reece, O’Connor, Brandt and Atme, along with several foreign knights. There were not many jousts left in the day.