Morgan Rice - A Quest of Heroes

Beside him, Krohn began to whine. There was a creepy feeling in the air, and Thor felt it, too. It wasn’t necessarily evil: it was just different. Like a heavy spiritual fog.

Just as Thor was beginning to wonder if he was heading in the right direction, he spotted on the horizon, high up on a hill, a small stone cottage. It was perfectly round, shaped as a ring, built of a black, solid stone and low to the ground. It had no windows, and just a single door, shaped in an arch-yet with no knocker or handle. Could Argon really live here, in this desolate place? Would he be upset that Thor had come uninvited?

Thor was beginning to have second thoughts, but forced himself to stay on the path. As he approached the door, he felt the energy in the air, so thick he could hardly breathe. His heart beat faster with trepidation as he reached out to knock with his fist.

Before he could touch it, the door opened by itself, a crack. It looked black in there, and Thor could not tell if only the wind had pushed it open. It was so dark, he could not see how anyone could be inside.

Thor reached out, gently pushed open the door, and stuck his head in:

“Hello?” he called out.

He pushed it wider. It was black in here, save for a soft glow on the far side of the dwelling.

“Hello?” he called out, louder. “Argon?”

Beside him, Krohn whined. It seemed obvious to Thor that this was a bad idea, that Argon was not at home. But still he forced himself to look. He took two steps in, and as he did, the door slammed close behind him.

Thor spun, and there, standing on the far wall, was Argon.

“I’m sorry to have disturbed you,” Thor said, his heart pounding.

“You come uninvited,” Argon said.

“Forgive me,” Thor said. “I did not mean to intrude.”

Thor looked around, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, and saw several small candles, laid out in a circle, around the periphery of the stone wall. The room was lit mostly by a single shaft of light, which came in through a small, circular opening in the ceiling. This place was overwhelming, stark and surreal.

“Few people have been here,” Argon replied. “Of course, you would not be here now unless I allowed you to be. That door only opens for whom it is intended. For whom it is not, it would never open-not with all the strength of the world.”

Thor felt better, and yet he also wondered how Argon had known he was coming. Everything about this man was mysterious to him.

“I had an encounter I did not understand,” Thor said, needing to let it all out, and to hear Argon’s opinion. “There was a snake. A Whiteback. It nearly attacked us. We were saved by my leopard, Krohn.”

“We?” Argon asked.

Thor flushed, realizing he had said too much. He didn’t know what to say.

“I was not alone,” he said.

“And who were you with?”

Thor bit his tongue, not knowing how much to say. After all, this man was close to her father, the king, and perhaps he would tell.

“I don’t see how that is relevant to the snake.”

“It is entirely relevant. Have you not wondered if that is why the snake came to begin with?”

Thor was completely off guard.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

“Not every omen you see is meant for you. Some are meant for others.”

Thor examined Argon in the dim light, starting to understand. Was Gwen fated for something evil? And if so, could he stop it?

“Can you change fate?” Thor asked.

Argon turned, slowly crossing his room.

“Of course, that is the question we have been asking for centuries,” Argon replied. “Can fate be changed? On the one hand, everything is destined, everything is written. On the other hand, we have free will. Our choices also determine our fate. It seems impossible for these two-destiny and free will-to live together, side by side, yet they do. It is where these two intercede-where destiny meets free will-that human behavior comes into play. Destiny can’t always be broken, but sometimes it can be bent, or even changed, by a great sacrifice and a great force of free will. Yet most of the time, destiny is firm. Most of the time, we are just bystanders, put her to watch it play out. We think we play a part in it, but usually we don’t. We are mostly observers, not participants.”

“So then why does the universe bother showing us omens, if there’s nothing we can do about them?” Thor asked.

Argon turned and smiled.

“You are quick boy, I will give you that. Mostly, we are shown omens to prepare ourselves. We are shown our fate to give us time to prepare. Sometimes, rarely, we are given an omen to enable us to take action, to change what will be. But this is very rare.”

“Is it true that the Whiteback foretells death?”

Argon examined him.

“It is,” he said, finally. “Without fail.”

Thor’s heart pounded at the response, at the confirmation of his fears. He was also surprised by Argon’s straightforward response.

“I encountered one, today,” Thor said, “but I don’t know who will die. Or if there is some action I can take to prevent it. I want to put it out of my mind, but I cannot. Always, that image of the snake’s head is with me. Why?”

Argon examined him a very long time, and sighed.

“Because whomever will die, it will affect you directly. It will affect your destiny.”

Thor was increasingly agitated; he felt that every answer bred more questions.

“But that’s not fair,” Thor said. “I need to know who it is that will die. I need to warn them!”

Slowly, Argon shook his head.

“It may not be for you to know,” he answered. “And if you do know, there may still be nothing you can do about it. Death finds its subject-even if someone is warned.”

“Then why was I shown this?” Thor asked, tormented. “And why can’t I get it from my head?”

Argon stepped forward, so close, inches away; the intensity of his eyes burned bright in this dim place, and it frightened Thor. It was like looking into the sun, and it was all he could do not to look away. Argon raised a hand and placed it on Thor’s shoulder. It was ice to the touch and sent a chill through him.

“You are young,” Argon said, slowly. “You are still learning. You feel things too deeply. Seeing the future is a great reward. But it can also be a great curse. Most humans who live out their destiny have no awareness of it. Sometimes the most painful thing is to have an awareness of your destiny, of what will be. You have not even begun to understand your powers. But you will. One day. Once you understand where you are from.”

“Where I’m from?” Thor asked, confused.

“Your mother’s home. Far from here. Beyond the Canyon, on the outer reaches of the Wilds. There is a castle, high up in the sky. It sits alone on a cliff, and to reach it, you walk along a windy stone road. It is a magical road-like ascending into the sky itself. It is a place of profound power. That is where you hail from. Until you reach that place, you will never fully understand. Once you do, all your questions will be answered.”

Thor blinked, and when he opened his eyes, he found himself, to his amazement, standing outside Argon’s dwelling. He had no idea how he got here.

The wind whipped through the rocky crag, and Thor squinted at the harsh sunlight. Beside him stood Krohn, whining.

Thor went back to Argon’s door and pounded on it with all his might. There came nothing but silence in return.

“Argon!” Thor screamed.

He was answered only by the whistling of the wind.

He tried the door, even putting his shoulder to it-but it would not budge.

Thor waited a long time, he was not sure how long, until finally the day grew late. Finally, he realized that his time here was over.