Morgan Rice - A Vow of Glory

Land. They had made it.

Elden lead the way to the anchor, and they all hoisted it and dropped it over the edge. They each climbed down the chain, jumping off it and landing on shore, Thor handing Krohn to Elden as he went.

Thor sighed as his feet touched the ground. It felt so good to have land—dry, steady land—beneath his feet. He would be fine if he never set sail on a ship again.

They all grabbed the ropes and dragged the boat as far onto shore as they could.

“Do you think the tides will take it away?” Reece asked, looking up at the boat.

Thor looked at it; it seemed secure in the sand.

“Not with that anchor,” Elden said.

“The tide won’t take it,” O’Connor said. “The question is whether someone else will.”

Thor took one long last look at the ship, and realized his friend was right. Even if they found the sword, they might very well return to an empty shore.

“And then how will we get back?” Conval asked.

Thor could not help but feel as if, every step of the way, they were burning their bridges.

“We shall find a way,” Thor said. “After all, there must be other ships in the Empire, right?”

Thor tried to sound authoritative, to reassure his friends. But deep down, he was not so sure himself. This entire journey was feeling increasingly ominous to him.

As one, they turned and faced the jungle, staring at it. It was a wall of foliage, blackness behind it. The animal noises rose up in a cacophony all around them, so loud that Thor could hardly hear himself think. It felt as if every beast of the Empire was screaming out to greet them.

Or to warn them.

Thor and the others hiked side-by-side, warily, each of them on guard, through the thick, tropical jungle. It was hard for Thor to hear himself think, so persistent were the screams and cries of the orchestra of insects and animals around him. Yet when he looked into the blackness of the foliage, he could not spot them.

Krohn walked at his heels, snarling, the hair standing on his back. Thor had never seen him so alert. He looked over at his brothers-in-arms, and saw each, like he, with a hand resting on the hilt of his sword, all of them on-edge, too.

They had been hiking for hours now, deeper and deeper into the jungle, the air becoming hotter and thicker, more humid, heavier to breathe. They had followed the traces of what appeared to once be a trail, a few broken branches hinting at the path the group of men who had arrived here may have taken. Thor only hoped that it was the trail of the group who had stolen the sword.

Thor looked up, in awe of the nature: everything was overgrown to epic proportion, every leaf as big as Thor. He felt like an insect in a land of giants. He saw something rustling behind some of the leaves, but couldn’t actually see anything. He had the ominous feeling that they were being watched.

The trail before them suddenly ended in a solid wall of foliage. They all stopped and looked at each other, puzzled.

“But the trail can’t just disappear!” O’Connor said, hopeless.

“It didn’t,” Reece said, examining the leaves. “The jungle just grew back on itself.”

“So which way now?” Conval asked.

Thor turned and looked all around, wondering the same thing. In every direction was just more of the dense foliage, and there seemed to be no way out. Thor was beginning to have a sinking feeling, and felt increasingly lost.

Then he had an idea.

“Krohn,” he said, kneeling down and whispering in Krohn’s ear. “Climb that tree. Look for us. Tell us which way to go.”

Krohn looked up at him with his soulful eyes, and Thor felt he understood.

Krohn sprinted for an enormous tree, the trunk as wide as ten men, and without hesitating pounced on it and clawed his way up. Krohn sprinted straight up then leapt out onto one of the highest branches. He walked out to its tip and looked out, his ears standing straight. Thor had always sensed that Krohn understood him, and now he knew for certain that he did.

Krohn leaned back and made a strange purring noise in the back of his throat, then scurried back down the trunk and took off in one direction. The boys exchanged a curious look, then all turned and followed Krohn, heading off into that part of the jungle, pushing back the thick leaves so they could walk.

After a few minutes of following him, Thor was relieved to see the trail pick up again, the telltale signs of broken branches and foliage showing which way the group had went. Thor leaned down and patted Krohn, kissing him on the head.

“I don’t know what we would have done without him,” Reece said.

“Nor do I,” Thor responded.

Krohn purred, satisfied, proud.

As they continued deeper into the jungle, twisting and turning, they came to a stretch of new foliage, with flowers all around them, enormous, the size of Thor, bursting with every color. Other trees had fruits the size of boulders hanging from the branches.

They all stopped in wonder as Conval walked over to one of the fruits, glowing red, and reached up to touch it.

Suddenly, there came a deep, growling noise.

Conval backed away and grabbed his sword, and the others all looked at each other anxiously.

“What was that?” Conval asked.

“It came from over there,” Reece said, gesturing to another part of the jungle.

They all turned and looked. But Thor could see nothing but leaves. Krohn snarled back at it.

The noise grew louder, more persistent, and finally, the branches began to rustle. Thor and the others took a step back, drawing their swords, and they waited, expecting the worst.

What stepped forward from the jungle exceeded even Thor’s worst expectations. Standing there before them was an enormous insect, five times Thor’s size, resembling a praying mantis, with two rear legs, two smaller front legs that dangled in the air, and long claws at the end of them. Its body was a fluorescent green, covered in scales, and it had small wings which buzzed and vibrated. It had two eyes at the top of its head, and a third eye on the tip of its nose. It reached around and revealed more claws which Thor hadn’t seen, hidden under its throat, which vibrated and snapped.

It stood there, towering over them, and another claw came out from its stomach, a long skinny arm, protruding; suddenly, faster than any of them could react, it reached out and snatched O’Connor, its three claws expanding and wrapping around his waist. It lifted him high in the air, as if he were a leaf.

O’Connor swung his sword, but he was nowhere near quick enough. The beast shook him several times, then suddenly opened its mouth, revealing row after row of sharp teeth, turned O’Connor sideways, and began to lower him towards it.

O’Connor shrieked, as an instant and painful death loomed.

Thor reacted. Without thinking, he placed a stone in his sling, took aim and hurled it at the beast’s third eye, at the tip of its nose.

It was a direct strike. The beast shrieked, an awful noise, loud enough to split a tree, then dropped O’Connor, who fell end over end and landed on the soft jungle floor with a thump.

The beast, enraged, then turned its sights on Thor.

Thor knew that making a stand and fighting this creature would be futile. At least one of his brothers would get killed, and likely Krohn, too, and it would drain whatever precious energy they had. He felt that maybe they had intruded on its territory, and that if they could get out of there quick enough, it might just leave them be.

“RUN!” Thor screamed.

They turned and ran—and the beast began to chase after them.

Thor could hear the sound of the beast’s nails cutting through the dense foliage right behind them, slicing through the air and missing his head by a few feet. Shredded leaves flew up into the air and rained down around him. They all ran as one, and Thor felt that if they could just gain enough distance, they could find a way to take shelter. If not, then they would have to make a stand.