Morgan Rice: A Clash of Honor

“Were you?” Andronicus said.

He leaned back and roared with laughter.

“Somehow, I doubt that very much,” Andronicus answered. “You are a poor liar. But it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. In my world, there are no second chances.”

He leaned back and smiled wide.

“Now you will learn what it means to defy the great Andronicus.”

Thor sat on his horse and they rode at a walk, leading the small contingent of his six friends as they broke away from the huge fighting force of Silver and Legion who had come to see them off. The six of them stopped before the main bridge for the Western Crossing of the Ring, Krohn at their side, and before stepping foot onto the bridge, Thor and his brothers turned and saw the hundreds of Legion, of Silver, standing there, seeing them off. They all stared back with solemn faces, faces filled with awe and respect. Whatever happened, whatever lay before them, he felt as if he had found a home. A family. A real family. And he knew that was a very rare thing. For that, he would be eternally grateful.

Kolk raised a single fist high in the air, then turned it upside down, a salute of the highest honor and respect. All the other men followed, saluting Thor and his friends-and they returned the salute. Thor felt the sacredness of the quest before him, and he resolved to do whatever it took to save his kingdom.

Thor looked over and saw Gwendolyn’s face, standing amongst them, crying, and he met her eyes. He could see the love in her eyes, and he sent the love back. He cared for her safety more than for his own, and he prayed with all that he was that she would be safe amidst these great warriors. As he looked at her, he could already see MacGil in her, could already see the great leader that she would become. He was filled with pride for her.

Thor knew that if he did not leave now, he never would. He had to steel himself.

He turned, his friends with him, and as one, they rode their horses slowly onto the bridge.

Lined up alongside the bridge were hundreds of MacGil soldiers, and they all stood at attention as they went. As Thor and his friends passed, the soldiers all raised their fists in salute. Hundreds of men on both sides saluted them as they went.

As they proceeded further over the bridge, beginning to cross over the Canyon, Krohn at their side, further and further from the safety of the Ring, the eerie mist of the place began to rise up and envelop them. Thor did not know what lay ahead. He knew it would be dangerous. He knew it could take months, years. He could not imagine the lands they would see, the monsters they would meet, the battles they would face. He knew their chances were slim. And he knew they might not ever find the Sword. It was not a quest for the light of heart. It was a quest of heroes.

As Thor walked, he was beginning to realize that it was not the objective that made one a hero-it was the journey, the quest itself. The willingness to accept it. Life was short. He realized that now. It was not about how he ended it. It was about how he lived it.

And as he looked up, at the great expanse of wilderness before him, he knew that, for the first time in his life, he was about to truly live.