Morgan Rice - A Clash of Honor

Thor couldn’t stand it anymore.

“I’m sorry,” Thor said, trying to add a sense of finality in his voice to wrap up the conversation. “I wish I’d asked her more. But I left in a rush to help the rebuilding effort. I haven’t seen her since. Go to her in the morning. I’m sure she will answer all your questions. How can she not? After all, you are royalty. Do you really think she would turn you down?”

Reece looked at the ground, and shrugged. Thor could see the fear and hesitation in his eyes, and he realized that Reece was nervous. Thor thought back to the first time he had spoken to Gwendolyn, and he understood. He had never seen Reece afraid of anything, but looking at him now, he wondered if Reece would be able to muster the courage to approach her in the morning.

Thor understood, too well. He was hardly one to talk. He hadn’t been able to muster the courage to ask Gwendolyn to marry him. In some ways, he was realizing, the courage needed to race into battle was nothing compared to the courage needed to face the rejection of a girl you loved.

More villagers appeared, distributing a fresh round of goko sticks, a red, chewy substance on the end of long sticks, which Thor and the others held over the fire. They hissed as they held them over the flames, burned bright, then burned out quickly. Thor blew on his, and ate. It was sweet and delicious. They had helped these villagers, but these villagers had treated them very well in return. He was still stuffed from the huge meal they had given them earlier.

As the group drifted off into a content silence, Thor lay back on one elbow and looked up at the night sky, at the sparkling red and yellow stars, so far away. His thoughts returned to Gwendolyn. He thought of their last trip, to the House of Scholars, thought of those books. He watched the distant stars and thought again of his mother, of that map, of the Land of the Druids. He wondered if he would ever make it there. He wondered why there had to be a sea between he and his mother, why he had never met her. He wondered again of his destiny.

Thor felt there a mystery at his fingertips, just out of reach of his thoughts. His thoughts swirled, as he tried to get to the bottom of it, thinking of his mother, his father, his upbringing, of the Druids. But it had been a long day, too long, and his mind was overcome with exhaustion; although he tried to fight it, the cool fall breezes were lulling him to sleep, and before he knew it, his eyes closed without him.

*

Thor walked slowly through the streets of his hometown, which sat desolate, doors opened, each home sitting vacant. The wind ripped through it, sending clouds of dust and huge thorn bushes rolling right at Thor. Thor raised his hands to his eyes and pressed on. He did not know what he was doing here, but he felt he needed to be here for some reason, that there was something he needed to see.

He turned down the corner of his old block, and in the distance he saw his house, which approached quickly. The door was ajar, and he walked inside.

Everything was exactly as he had left it. But it was empty now. His father was gone, and Thor sensed that he had left long ago.

Thor walked out the back door, towards the shed where he used to sleep, and as he did, he was surprised to see a woman standing in the doorway. She wore flowing blue robes and held a long, intricate yellow staff. A blue light shined from her face, so intense that he could not make out her features. He sensed that she was someone important his life. Perhaps, even, he dared to hope, his mother.

“Thorgrin, my son,” she said, her voice so gentle, so soothing, “I await you. It is time for you to return home. It is time for you to know who you are.”

Thor took a step closer to her, so curious to see her face, to know more. Her energy drew him in like a magnet, but the closer he got, the more intense the light became, and he raised his hands and found he could not get any closer.

“Mother?” he asked. “Is that you?”

“Come home, Thorgrin,” she said, urgently. “Come home now.”

She stepped forward and held his shoulders, and Thor felt an intense energy pouring through him, felt his own body infusing with light. He still could not see her face, and he reached up and shielded his eyes from the light, which felt as if it might burn right through him.

Thor sat up, breathing hard, looking all around him. He was surprised to realize he had been dreaming. It had felt so real.

Thor lay with the other Legion members on the ground before the dying fire, where he had fallen asleep. The others still slept. He turned to see dawn breaking over the horizon, the first sun flooding the sky with yellow and purple.

He stood and wiped the sweat from his brow as he pondered his dream. It had been so vivid; his heart was still pounding. He had really felt as if he had just encountered his mother. And her words to him kept repeating in his mind. They felt like a message. More than a message-they felt like a command.

Come home .

Thor felt an urgency, felt there was some great message awaiting him in his hometown. Some great secret waiting to be unlocked. The secret of who he was. Of who his mother was.

He walked over to the gurgling creak, knelt down and splashed cold water on his face, trying to shake it. But he could not. It clung to him, this persistent feeling that he needed to go there. Was he imagining it? Was it wishful thinking? Was it just a fanciful dream? It was so hard to know what was a dream, and what was a message. When did his own unconscious get in the way of his seeing a message clearly?

“Sometimes dreams are more than dreams,” came a voice.

Thor knew that voice, and it sent a chill up his spine.

He turned slowly to see Argon standing there, holding his staff, dressed in his white robes, looking out at the breaking dawn. He did not even look Thor’s way.

Thor was so relieved to see him; it was like seeing an old friend.

“Argon,” Thor said. “Please, tell me. Was it all true? The dream? Does my mother wait for me?”

“Yes and no,” he responded.

Thor wondered.

“Must I return to my hometown?” he pressed.

“You know the answer.”

Thor did. He felt it. He had to go.

“But is she awaiting me there now? How did she get there? What is she doing there?”

“Some things you must find out on your own,” Argon said. “It is up to you to make the journey.”

Suddenly, Argon vanished. Thor turned every which way, looking for him, but he was gone.

Thor rubbed his face several times, wondering if he’d imagined the whole thing.

But he was certain that he had not. First there was the dream. Then, Argon. Thor felt it was a sign, one he could no longer ignore. He felt the same way he did on that fateful day when he’d left his village and first embarked for King’s Court. The universe was telling him something. He had to go back to his hometown. Something was awaiting him there. Some secret he needed to unlock. Was that why fate had sent Thor here, to this remote village, which shared the same road as that to his hometown? He wondered. Had the universe been giving him signs all along?

Thor stood upright, ran his wet hands through his hair, and decided. He must go. He needed answers. His hometown was hardly a day’s ride from here, and he could make it there and back before the sunset. His Legion brothers would be okay without him for the day. It was risky, because he would be leaving his post, and if the Legion commanders found out, he could be punished. But there wasn’t much to do here today, anyway, aside from some more light rebuilding. It wasn’t like they were at war, and Thor felt confident his friends would be safe.

Thor turned and headed for his horse, preparing to take off before the sun rose higher.