Morgan Rice - A feast of dragons

In his palm he held the sparkling Orethist stone he’d salvaged from the dragon’s shore. He could feel its power pulsing through him, and he smiled in anticipation as he imagined giving it to Gwen. He had been unable to shake her from this thoughts the entire ride home, and he realized now that she, more than anything else back home, was what mattered to him most, what he looked forward to most. He hoped that she still cared for him. Maybe she had moved on. After all, she was a Royal-she must have been introduced to hundreds of other boys in the meantime. He squeezed the jewel harder, closed his eyes, and silently prayed that she still cared for him even a fraction as much as he did for her.

He opened his eyes and on the horizon spotted the thick wood outlining the shores of the Ring. He breathed. It had been a long hundred days, the longest of his life, and he still could not believe he had survived it. He felt proud to be coming home, proud to have survived, and proud to be a true member of the Legion. He recalled the journey left to take through the woods, across the Canyon, back inside the energy shield of the Ring. He remembered how frightened he had been upon first leaving the Canyon, and marveled at how differently he felt now. He no longer held any fear. After his hundred days of grueling training, of every sort of combat, after facing the Cyclops and most of all, the Dragon, he realized that nothing scared him anymore. He was beginning to feel like a warrior.

Thor heard a familiar screeching noise, and looked up to see Ephistopheles. She was circling high above, following the ship. She swooped down and landed on the ship’s rail, close by. She turned and screeched, looking right at Thor.

Thor was elated to see her, a reminder of home.

Just as quickly, she lifted into the air, flapping her wide wings. He knew he would see her again.

Thor reached down and lay a free hand on the hilt of his new sword. When they had finished the Hundred, before they had boarded the ships to return home, the Legion commanders had given each of the surviving boys a weapon, a token to symbolize that they were now full Legion members. Reese had been given a bejeweled shield; O’Connor, who walked now with a limp, still recovering from the dragon’s blow, had been given a mahogany bow and arrow; Elden had been given a mace with a spiked silver ball-and Thor had been given this sword, its hilt wrapped with the finest silk, bejeweled, its blade sharper and smoother than any he had seen. Holding it in his hand, it felt like air.

As he squeezed its hilt tighter, he felt that he was now part of the Legion, a part of this band of brothers forever. They had gone through things together that no one else would ever understand. Thor looked over his brethren and could see that they looked older, too, stronger, toughened. They all looked like they had been through hell. And they had. He thought of all the brothers they had lost back there, boys they had started out with on this boat and who were not returning; boys who had dropped out along the way from cowardice; and boys who had been killed. It was sobering. Today was a cause for celebration-but it was also a cause for mourning. Not all of them had made it back. The weight of it was carried by all the Legion members, and Thor could detect a more serious, more mature look to them, the youthful giddiness they’d had just months ago gone, replaced with something else. A sense of mortality.

Thor would do anything now for these boys, his real brothers. And they all, since his rescuing them from the dragon, looked at him with a new respect. Maybe, even, with a sense of awe. Even Kolk looked at him differently, with something like respect, and he had not reprimanded him once since.

Finally, Thor felt like he belonged . Whatever enemies he faced on shore no longer scared him. In fact, now, he welcomed combat.

Now, he understood what it meant to be a warrior.

*

Thor rode on horseback with the Legion, Reese on one side of him, O’Connor, Elden and the twins on the other, Krohn following below, all of them walking on the path towards King’s court. He could hardly believe his eyes: before him, stretched as far as the eye could see, stood thousands of people, lining the road, screaming in adulation at their return. They waved banners, tossed candies at them, threw flower petals in their path. Military drums beat with precision, and cymbals and music rang out. It was the grandest parade that Thor had ever seen, and he rode at the center of it, surrounded by all his brothers.

Thor had not expected a return welcome like this. Luckily, there journey back through the Canyon had been uneventful, and he had been shocked as they had crossed the bridge and the hundreds of King’s soldiers had lowered their heads in deference to them. To them , boys. The guards had reached out and lowered their halberds, one at a time, in honor and respect. As Thor had walked through them, he had never felt more accepted, more of a sense of belonging, in his life. It made him feel that every minute of every hardship had been worth it. Here he was, respected by these great men, now a part of their ranks. There was nothing he had ever wanted more in life.

As they’d all set foot back on the safety of their side of the Canyon, they had been met with another surprise: there was a fleet of horses awaiting them, the most beautiful horses Thor had ever seen. Now, instead of having to tend the horses, to shovel their waste, Thor had been given one to ride himself. It was a thing of splendor, with a black hide and a long, white nose. He had named him Percival.

They had ridden for most of the day, cresting a small hill before reaching King’s Court. When they’d reached its peak, Thor’s breath had been taken away: as far as the eye could see, the masses lined King’s Road, cheering them. The horizon was filled with Fall foliage and flowers, and it was a perfect day. They had left at Summer and returned at Fall, and the change was shocking.

As they all rode their horses now through the parade in King’s Court, the sun beginning to set, Thor felt as if he were in a dream.

“Can you believe this is for us?” O’Connor asked, walking on his horse beside Thor.

“We’re Legion members now,” Elden said. “ Real Legion members. If there’s a war, we’re called upon as reserves. We’re not just trainees anymore: we’re soldiers, too.”

The masses cheered as they passed through, but as Thor looked over the faces, he was looking for only one person: Gwendolyn. It was all he thought of. Not riches or fame or honor, or any of it. He just wanted to see her, to know that she was still here, that she still cared for him.

The cheers reached a crescendo as the group reached King’s Gate and crossed the wooden bridge, the bridge echoing beneath the weight of the horses’ hooves. They continued on through the soaring arched stone, beneath the rows of iron spikes. They proceeded through the darkened part of the tunnel, then came out the other side, into King’s Court.

As they did, they were met with a cheer, masses flooding the plaza from every direction, calling out their names. Thor was even amazed to hear some people call out his name-he could hardly believe that anyone even knew who he was.

As they continued into the plaza, Thor saw that banquet tables had been prepared for the festivities. He was beginning to realize that this day had been declared a holiday, and that all these festivities were just for them. It was hard to fathom.

They reached the center of the plaza, and standing there, waiting to greet them, was Brom, the lead general of all the armed forces. He was surrounded by his top generals, and by dozens of members of The Silver, and one by one, the boys dismounted and walked towards them, stopping at attention as they lined up.