Morgan Rice - A Sky of Spells

“There is more you can do, Thorgrin,” he said. “Do you see the night? Do you see the darkness? It is but a veil. Lift that veil. Allow it to be day.”

Thor stood there, flabbergasted.

“Me?” he asked. “Turn night into day?”

“Night is but the absence of light. Let there be light. You are advanced enough now.”

Thor gulped and closed his eyes. It was hard for him to imagine himself with that sort of power, but nonetheless, he held out his arms and raised his palms to the sky.

“Feel the fibers of night,” Argon said. “Feel the threads of blackness. They are but illusion. The whole world is but illusion. This, the sky we live under, the sky we breathe every day, it is not a sky of man—it is a sky of magic, a sky of wonder. It is a sky of spells.”

Thor tried to follow the instruction, tried to feel the blackness. He felt a tremendous heaviness weighing on the tips of his fingers.

“Now, Thorgrin,” Argon added, “transcend the illusion.”

Thor felt his fingertips burning, nearly on fire, and he closed his hands and bunched his fists. He squeezed his fists as hard as he could, and felt a heat searing his entire body. He leaned back his head and screamed.

When he opened his eyes, Thor was awestruck. There, before him, it was daylight. Night was gone.

“All of nature is under your control,” Argon said, turning to him, as Thor stared out in wonder. “The fox and the mouse, the eagle and the owl. There, up high, on that branch. Do you see that owl? It, too, is under your control. Command it. Leave your limited world behind, and see the world through its eyes.”

Thor looked up at the huge, black owl, a magnificent creature, and he closed his eyes and focused, concentrating. Thor opened the owl’s eyes, and its eyes were his own. He saw the world through its eyes. It was incredible.

Thor turned the owl’s neck, and it looked out in every direction, at the limitless landscape. He saw beyond the forest, above the tips of the trees. In the distance, he saw a road.

“Excellent,” Argon said, beside him. “Now see where that road takes you.”

Thor kept his eyes closed, seeing the world through the eyes of the owl, and silently commanded the owl to lift off. He could feel the great owl flapping its wings above him, and soon it soared through the air, flying along the tops of the trees. Thor watched the landscape through its eyes, looking down through the trees, following the road that led through the forest.

The road twisted and turned, and soon it led him to a familiar place. Thor was surprised to see his hometown below.

Standing there, alone in its center, was a woman he was shocked to recognize.

His mother.

She stood there and looked up the sky, as if looking for him, and held up her arms.

“Thorgrin!” she called.

“Mother!” he called back.

Thor opened his eyes with a start, jolted out of the vision, and looked over to Argon.

“My mother,” he said, breathing hard. “Is she there? In my village? How can it be?”

“She waits for you,” Argon said. “It is time to meet her. Your very life depends on it. The final clue you need lies there. In your home town.”

Thor turned and looked out at the road before him, wondering.

“But how can it—” he began to ask Argon.

But as Thor turned, he saw no one. Argon was gone.

“ARGON!” he screamed out.

There came no reply save for the sound of a lone owl, screeching high up in the air.

Selese walked slowly down the aisle on her wedding day, and she knew something was not quite right. All the chairs were empty on either side of the aisle; she looked over and saw, instead, rows of thorn bushes, black and ominous. She looked down and saw that mice scurried beneath her feet, and that the aisle, instead of being lined with flowers, was lined with mud. She was terrified.

As she reached the end of the aisle, Selese looked up and saw Reece standing there, at the altar, waiting for her. But as she approached, desperate to get close to him, she noticed a huge spider web between them, and she found herself walking face-first into it, it wrapping all over her face and body, sticking to her. She flailed, hysterical, trying to peel it away. She finally managed to tear it off, but as she did, she noticed she was tearing off her wedding dress instead, leaving her in rags.

Selese stepped onto the altar, shaking from fear, and looked across at Reece.

He stood there, staring back blankly, expressionless.

“I wish we could marry,” he said. “But I love someone else.”

Selese gaped, not understanding—then suddenly, there appeared a woman next to Reece, a beautiful girl, Reece’s age, who reached up and wrapped one arm around his, turned him and led him away.

The two of them walked back down the aisle, and Selese just stood there, horrified, and watched them go.

Selese felt the ground tremble beneath her, and she looked down and watched in disbelief as a hole opened in the earth. The hole grew greater and greater, and before she could get out of the way, she found herself falling, into the blackness.

She shrieked, flailing, raising her hands for someone, anyone, to save her. But no one did.

Selese woke screaming.

She sat straight up in bed, sweating despite the cool summer night. She looked all about her, trying to understand where she was, what had happened.

It was a dream. It had seemed so real—too real. She sat there, gasping. She reached up and rubbed her face and hair, trying to feel for the spider web. But there was none—nothing but her cool, clammy skin.

Selese surveyed her surroundings and saw she was still in the safety of the Queen’s castle, in the luxurious room given to her by the queen, lying on a pile of furs. A slight breeze stirred through the window, it was a perfect summer night, and absolutely nothing in the world was wrong.

She got up, crossed the room, and splashed water on her face. She breathed deeply, rubbing her eyes again and again, trying to understand.

How could she have had such a dream? She had never had nightmares in her life. Why now? And why had it been so vivid?

Selese walked over to the open-air window and stood there, looking out at the night. Beneath the faint light of the second moon, there was King’s Court, in all its splendor. She could see her wedding preparations, perfect below, everything in order for her double wedding with Gwendolyn. Even at night everything was so beautiful, the flowers glowing beneath the moonlight. The wedding was still a half moon away, and yet all was ready. Selese was in awe at the spectacle it would be.

Selese was so honored to be getting married together with Gwendolyn, so grateful for the kindness that her future sister-in-law had shared with her. She also felt overwhelmed with a surge of love for Reece. She did not need any of this lavishness; all she wanted was to be with Reece.

But as Selese stared down below, all she could see was her dream. That horrible aisle; the thorns; the web; falling through the earth; the other woman. Could any of it be true? Was it just a horrible dream—or was it some sort of omen?

Selese stared out at the clouds racing beneath the moon, and she wanted to tell herself it was all just fancies of the night. Perhaps it was just the stress of preparing for the wedding.

But deep down, Selese could not help but fear it was something more. She could not help but feel that Reece, out there somewhere, was in terrible danger.

And as she looked down at the beauty of all those wedding preparations, she could not help feeling, with a deep sense of dread, that their wedding would never come to be.

Reece grabbed hold of the thick, knotted rope, leaned over the edge of the ship, and threw up yet again, as the ship tossed and turned on the rolling seas, as it had been ever since he left the mainland. He grabbed hold of the thick knotted rope and did his best to straighten himself. He leaned back and wiped his mouth, grateful that they were close.