Morgan Rice - A Vow of Glory

Gwendolyn had made up her mind. She knew what she would do. Not what her advisors would do, not what her father would do, not what Kendrick would do. But what she would do. And that’s all that mattered now.

At first dawn, when it was still dark, when there was no one around to stop her, she would go up there. Alone. She would surrender herself to Andronicus. She would agree to his terms, serve him, and give herself up for the greater good.

As Gwendolyn stood there, looking out at her last sunset as a free woman, she thought of Thor. She reached down and felt her stomach, and thought of their child. She wanted this child to live. For this child, if for no one else, she wanted to spare more bloodshed. She might be a servant to Andronicus, but this child would be free.

Gwendolyn looked out and had to admit that a part of her hoped for Thor to appear, to swoop down with the Sword and rescue her from all this. She would give anything, and her heart pounded at the thought.

But deep down she knew it was just a dream. Thor was gone, far away from here. She was all alone. It was meant for her to stand alone, as her own woman. As the woman her father had expected her to be. This was what being a ruler meant, she finally understood. To be surrounded by people—and yet, to be utterly alone.

“Not all dreams are meant to be fulfilled,” came a voice.

Gwendolyn looked over to see Argon standing there, beside her, staring out at the sunset. She felt numb to the world, and a part of her was not even surprised to see him. Little mattered to her anymore now, since her mind had been made up. She faced the sunset with him.

“You come at a time when I no longer need your counsel,” she said to him.

“I have not come to give you counsel,” he said. “But to pay my respects. I had not seen your decision coming. So brave. Your father would be proud. You are the finest of the MacGils.”

“Is that why you have come?” she asked, sensing there was something more.

“No,” he answered. “I have also come to say goodbye.”

She turned and looked at him, but he continued to stare out at the Canyon.

“Are you leaving us?” she asked, struck with fear. But then she was struck with an ever great fear: “Or is it I who is leaving you?”

Argon stared, expressionless, and would not answer.

“I suppose once I am a subject to Andronicus, you shall have a new MacGil ruler to counsel soon enough,” she said.

He shook his head.

“Times are shifting,” he said.

Gwendolyn was suddenly burning with a desire to know.

“Just tell me one thing,” she pleaded. “Thor? Is he safe? Is he alive?”

She cared not for her safety anymore, but only for his.

“He is alive, yes.”

She stared at him.

“You do not answer if he safe,” she pressed.

Argon remained silent, not responding. Her heart was breaking.

“Can you save him?” she pleaded. “From whatever peril he is in? Please. I will give you anything. Can you keep him alive?”

Argon turned and stared at her, and his eyes burned right through her.

“I have already saved Thorgrin once. For you. And now your fate demands something in return.”

Argon took three steps forward and laid a hand on her shoulder, and it burned right through her, feeling as if she was touched by the sun.

“You have done the gods proud,” he said. “Always there will be a spot of honor reserved for you.”

Just as Gwendolyn was about to pull away from his burning grasp, suddenly he disappeared.

Gwen turned and looked everywhere, but saw no trace of him. She was alone again up there, on the edge of the rock, more alone than she had ever been in her life.

She looked up at the Canyon wall rising to the upper city, and knew what she needed to do.

It was time to take the first step.

Erec braced himself as he lay there, defenseless, and the creature prepared to bring his claws down for his face. Images flashed through his mind as he prepared to meet his death—of his time as a boy, his days in the Legion, his life as a knight—and none flashed through his mind so strongly as that of Alistair. He had only one regret in life as he prepared to meet his death: not having more time to spend with her.

But as the creature brought the stone down, suddenly something happened. An intense light shone through the air, and the creature went flying back, knocked off its feet as an orb of light hit him in the chest and knocked him halfway across the battlefield.

Erec blinked several times, confused, not understanding what had just happened.

Another orb of light flew across the battlefield, and then another, and the creatures went flying in every direction, clearing a safe perimeter around him.

Erec turned and looked up and saw, standing over him, Alistair.

To his shock, he saw her holding out a palm, from which were radiating the orbs of light. Her light-blue eyes were aglow and she looked other-worldly, angelic, with her long blonde hair falling down towards him.

He did not know what to think.

Erec scrambled to his feet and stood at her side as she continued casting orbs at all the creatures on the battlefield, saving his friend Brandt right before a creature sliced him in half. Within moments a wave of destruction spread across the field, all the creatures hurling through the air.

The creatures who were not yet hit looked at them with a new fear and began to back away warily, then all turned and ran.

Erec turned and looked at Alistair with a whole new appreciation and sense of wonder. Did this have to do with the secret of her birth? Who was she, really? How did she have these powers? And why had she kept it a secret?

He could barely get out the words, his throat dry, as he turned to her. He was almost afraid to ask the question:

“Who are you?”

As the first sun broke over the Canyon, showering it with the most magnificent sunrise Gwendolyn had ever seen, filling the universe with red and orange hues, swirling clouds of mist, Gwen climbed the spiral staircases, up flight after flight, feeling as if she were climbing her way to heaven. She trembled inwardly and her heart pounded with anxiety, her legs growing heavier with each step. She had never felt more alone since she had begun her trek and left the comfort of her family, her army, her people, everything she knew and held dear.

She prepared to face Andronicus alone, to give herself over to his service, for the sake of her people and everyone she loved. It was the loneliest walk of her life, and she forced herself to go quickly, not wanting to think about it. If she thought it over too carefully, she was afraid she might turn back.

Gwen reached the final landing before the top, and encountered several Silesian soldiers, all snapping to attention, surprised by her presence. They saluted her.

“My lady,” one of them said. “What are you doing up here? Is everything okay?”

She cleared her throat.

“All is well,” she said, trying to mask her fear, trying to sound confident.

“Where are you going, my lady?” another asked.

“To the top,” she answered.

The soldiers all exchanged a look of fear.

“The top, my lady?” one asked. “You know that Andronicus’s army awaits up there.”

She nodded.

“I know, too well. Now, please excuse me.”

The soldiers looked at themselves in hesitation and confusion, and for a moment it seemed as if they might not let her pass; but then they deferred, and finally stepped aside.

As she walked past them, Gwen turned and faced them, remembering that they were all looking to her as their ruler.

“You have all done a magnificent job,” she said. “I thank you for your service.”