A Cry of Honor by Morgan Rice
“Good,” Argon said. “Very good. You are correct. There is no division in time, except for within ourselves. Like a river, it never ends. Follow this river. What do you see?”
Thor struggled to see, feeling a new sense of peace overcome him. This place he stood in felt charged, sacred, and wearing his mother’s necklace, he began to feel a stronger energy within him than ever before. Images flashed within him. He began to see visions of the Ring, with more clarity than he’d ever had. It was like it was real. It was no longer fuzzy, as it used to be.
Thor focused and saw a great tide of humanity, an endless number of cities; he looked down on them, as if flying overhead. He watched seasons change beneath him, saw time pass, from decade to decade, century to century. He saw all the people divided. Then he saw all the people as one.
“Good,” Argon said. “I sense that you can feel it. The force stream. Now, control the river. Look to the future. Tell me what you see.”
Thor closed his eyes, struggling—but nothing came to him. Then he recalled Argon’s past lessons, and forced himself to stop struggling. He breathed deep, and tried to allow it to come to him instead.
Thor began to see crystal-clear visions of the future. He flinched inside, was horrified as he watched King’s Court overrun. He watched invaders destroy it, raze it, burn it down to the ground. In place of the great city, there was just a mound of ashes.
Thor heard the screams, watched thousands of people fleeing; he saw thousands butchered, thousands more imprisoned, taken as slaves. He watched as a wasteland spread and engulfed the once-bucolic hills of the Ring. He watched fruit fall from trees, saw women taken away. He saw great armies invading, covering every corner of the Ring. And he watched the sky blacken.
“I see a time of great darkness,” Thor said.
“Yes,” Argon said.
As Thor closed his eyes, he watched a blood-red moon rise over a desolate wasteland. It was night, and he saw a single fire burning in the blackness of the Ring.
“I see a fire,” Thor said. “Burning in the wasteland.”
“That fire is the source of hope,” Argon said. “It is what will rise from the ashes.”
Thor squinted and saw more.
“I see a sword,” Thor said. “A gleaming sword. It shines in the sun. I see a hundred men being killed one swipe.”
“The Destiny Sword,” Argon said.
Thor flinched as he watched dragons fly down from the sky, breathing flames onto what was left of the Ring.
“I see a host of dragons,” Thor said, voice shaking. “They attack as one.”
Thor had to open his eyes—he could stand it no more. The visions were too horrific.
He saw Argon staring back.
“You are powerful,” Argon said. “You have seen much. The power within you is strong. Stronger than I thought.”
“But tell me what it all means,” Thor pleaded, upset. “Is it all true? Will the Ring be destroyed? What will become of King’s Court? Of the Legion? Of Gwendolyn?”
Argon shook his head sadly.
“You can’t control the future,” Argon said. “But you can prepare. You must prepare.”
“How?”
“You must become stronger. The Ring needs you. You must develop the powers within yourself. You must claim for yourself the power source of your mother, a great Druid, of your father, a great warrior. It all lies within you. Only you are stopping it from shining through. You must accept it. Unleash it. Claim it as your own.”
“But how?” Thor pleaded.
“Stop resisting it. Stop fearing who you are.”
Argon turned.
“That stream,” he said. “Close your eyes. Hear its gurgling. Really hear it.”
Thor closed his eyes and tried to focus. He heard the delicate sound of water running over rocks.
“Can you feel it?” Argon asked. “Can you feel its current?”
Thor listened to the tranquil sound of the stream, and he felt it moving, felt its current.
“Good,” Argon said. “You and the water are one. Now stop the water. Change its course. Turn it upstream.”
Thor focused on the current of the water, which he felt flowing as if it were flowing through his own body.
Then, slowly, Thor reached out a palm and directed it towards the water. He could feel the stream’s energy source, tickling the center of his palm. Slowly, he willed the current to change directions.
Thor felt a great strength within him, felt the resistance of the water, weighing on his palm, felt himself struggling, as if lifting a physical object. He opened his eyes and was amazed to see that he was stopping the flow of the stream. He was creating a small wall of water, like a dam, freestanding in the midst of the stream, revealing the dry bed underneath it.
“Good,” Argon said. “Very good. Now let it go.”
Thor pulled back his palm, and the water crashed back down and continued its flow.
“You have mastered a small slice of nature,” Argon said. “But nature is not confined to the ground. Nature is all around us. Water flows in a stream—but it also flows in the sky. Feel the clouds above you. Feel how thick they are, how wet with moisture. Can you feel it?”
Thor looked up and was baffled. The sky was clear.
“But it is cloudless,” Thor protested.
“Look again,” Argon said and raised his staff.
As Thor watched, suddenly the sky above his head darkened with dark clouds, gathering from all corners of the sky. Thor was in awe of Argon’s power.
“Now close your eyes,” Argon said, “and feel the clouds.”
Thor closed his eyes and was amazed to realize that he could feel this cloud, hanging above him like a physical thing. It felt heavy, thick, wet.
“Open it,” Argon said. “Open this cloud and let it release its pressure. Let it rain moisture on us. It wants to rain. Allow it to.”
Thor found himself raising both palms to the sky, leaning back, and as he did, he felt a great burst of energy rush through him.
Thunder suddenly clapped, and a great wall of water fell down on him. Thor heard a rumbling noise, and an instant later he felt himself drenched, water raining down all around him, landing on the dusty sand, on his head, drenching him.
“Good!” Argon screamed, over the sound of the rain, also drenched. “Now stop it!”
Thor closed his eyes, felt the wall of water, and raised one palm overhead, directing it at the cloud. Moments later, the water stopped.
Thor opened his eyes and was amazed to see the water raining from the sky, but stopping just feet above his head. He was holding it there—and it was sapping his energy. He felt his legs begin to shake from the effort.
“You are tired because you trying too hard,” Argon yelled. “Make the cloud disappear!” Argon commanded.
“I can’t!” Thor yelled back, shaking from the effort of holding up the rain.
“That is because you think it is hard. It is not!” Argon said.
Impatient, Argon raised his staff and waved it overhead; suddenly, the cloud disappeared. The day was clear and cloudless once again.
Thor looked all around, and there was no evidence that the cloud had ever been there—except for the fact that his clothes were dripping wet. He looked over at Argon in awe. His power was inspiring.
“I can feel my power,” Thor said. “But it feels uneven, unsteady.”
“That is the human part of you,” Argon explained. “You are part human. That is an asset and a weakness. You must learn to master your imperfections. You might never be as strong as your mother; or, you might be stronger. The key lies in your mind, in your resolve, in your developing your skills.”
Thor was struggling to comprehend all of this.
“But all of this—moving water, creating rain—I still don’t understand how this shall help me in battle,” Thor said.
“Don’t you?” Argon asked.
Argon suddenly turned, held out a palm, aimed at a boulder and t
Fifty feet away, an immense boulder, ten times the size of Thor, suddenly shot up high in the air, then, as Argon moved his wrist, it came slamming down with a great crash, a few feet before Thor.
Thor stumbled at the impact as the ground shook, leaving a crater in the earth, insects scurrying in every direction.
Thor looked at Argon with wonder—and fear. He had underestimated him, once again.
“All nature is connected,” Argon said. “The water, the rocks, the sky. If you can direct the flow of water, you can direct anything. Even the animals.”
Argon looked up at the sky.
“Do you see that bird?” Argon asked.
Thor looked up, and saw an eagle circling high overhead.
“Summon it down to us. Have it land on your shoulder.”
Thor closed his eyes, reached up, and tried with all he had to direct the bird’s energy. He felt the bird getting closer—but then suddenly flying away. He tried as hard as he could, but he could not control it. He opened his eyes to see the bird disappearing. He lowered his palm, mentally and physically exhausted.
“I’m sorry,” Thor said. “I could not control it. It was too hard.”
“It was only too hard because you tried too hard,” Argon said. “You did not allow it to come to you. You still rely on your human sense of will.”
“But I don’t see how we can control all animals,” Thor said.
Argon raised his staff, and suddenly Thor heard a roar.
He turned and saw a lion walking towards them, quickly, and as Argon moved his hand, the lion followed the direction of Argon’s palm. It came up to Argon, sat beside him, and stared out at Thor. Tranquil. Obedient.
Thor was speechless.
“I can’t believe it,” Thor said.
“That is precisely your problem,” Argon said. “If you cannot believe, you cannot create. Because you don’t see it, you don’t manifest it. You must learn to trust yourself. You know more than you think possible.”
Suddenly, a great flash came and Argon disappeared—and the lion with him.
Thor looked about, in every direction, but they were gone.
Thor felt exhausted, but also stronger. He felt as if he had trained all day. He had taken an important step, and he felt his skills developing. But he still knew there was much left to learn, and he wondered if he would ever be able to master it all.
How vast were his powers? What was his destiny? How was he supposed to help the Ring?
Until he met his parents, somehow, he felt, he would never solve the mystery.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
Gwendolyn stood amidst the rolling hills on the beautiful Fall day, Krohn playing beside her, flowers in bloom as far as the eye could see, the landscape a tapestry of purples and yellows and whites. She took a deep breath, took aim with her bow, and let the arrow fly.
It whizzed through the air, and barely grazed the target on the distant oak tree. She frowned. It was her tenth attempt at this target, and each time she missed. When she had been younger, she had spent years training with the royal archer, and her aim had been true. She hadn’t picked up the bow in years, and she had just expected her aim to be accurate. But it wasn’t. Perhaps it was because she was older, or perhaps whatever skill she’d once had just wasn’t with her anymore.
Gwen set the bow down and breathed the air in deeply, enjoying her surroundings. She had come out here to clear her mind, to try to get her mind off of Thor. Krohn yelped and pounced in the fields, chasing a rabbit, and she smiled at the sight. He been a true companion since Thor had left, and seeing him made her constantly think of him, and gave her a sense of assurance. She loved Krohn as if he were her own, she could feel his protectiveness, and was so grateful for it. He was growing every day, before her eyes, and was well on his way to becoming a full grown leopard. Sometimes she would look at him and be afraid, until he looked back at her and she saw the love in his eyes.
Gwen looked out at the beautiful fall day, saw the light shifting in the clouds, the distant swaying of the trees, and the field of flowers seemed alive as the wind pushed the colors one way, then the next. As she watched the horizon, she thought of Thor. He was somewhere out there, in that village, rebuilding. She wondered what he was doing right now. She had put on a strong face when she had said goodbye, but inside, her heart had been breaking. She ached to see him again, missed him beyond what she could describe, and she wished more than anything that he was here with her, right now.
Gwen also felt a craving to leave this place. She did not feel safe here anymore, since the attempt on her life, since the Nevaruns had showed up to take her way. She felt some measure of safety living here in her mother’s keep, far from the castle, and spending her time secluded from the others, in these hills. She also felt a measure of safety with Krohn here, and in knowing that Thor return soon. She couldn’t wait until he returned and the two of them could leave this place for good. In the meantime, she prayed that Godfrey could find the evidence they all needed to bring down Gareth once and for all. If he could, she would not even need to flee; but Gareth seemed indomitable, and she had her doubts whether they would ever be able to bring him down.
Gwen saw Thor’s face in her mind, and she remembered back to that moment when he looked as if he were about to ask her something. And then something like fear had crossed his face. She wondered what it was. Was he going to ask her to marry him? Her heart swelled at the thought. There was nothing she wanted more. But she did not understand why he had not asked her yet. Were his feelings not as strong as hers?
She prayed that was not the case. She reached down and grabbed her stomach, remembered Argon’s words, and could not help feeling just a little bit stronger each day, feeling with every ounce of her body that she was carrying Thor’s child. A mystical, powerful child.
Gwendolyn heard a noise and turned, and in the distance she saw a single man hurrying through the fields, trotting her way. She looked closely, at his short stature, his hunched back, his pronounced limp, and she remembered: Steffen. She had sent one of her attendants to summon him, not knowing if he would come. She was thrilled that he had.
Gwen never forgot those who were kind to her—especially those who saved her life—and she wanted to repay Steffen for his kindness. She hated the idea of him slaving away in the servants’ quarters, especially after what he had done for her. It just wasn’t fair. He was a good man, who was misjudged by his appearance. She had to admit, even she had misjudged him at first.
Steffen approached, removing his hat and bowing low before her, his forehead drenched in sweat.
“My lady,” he said. “I came as soon as you called for me.”
Krohn came running over, stood protectively beside Gwen, and growled at Steffen.
“Krohn, it’s okay,” Gwen said. “He’s one of us.”
Krohn instantly relaxed, the hairs dropping on his back, his ears lowering, as if he understood. He stepped forward and as Steffen held out a hand, Krohn licked it. He then jumped up and licked Steffen’s face.
Steffen laughed.
“He is the most affectionate leopard cub I’ve ever met,” Steffen said.
“If you’re on his good side,” Gwen replied. “Thank you for coming. I didn’t know if you would.”
“And why wouldn’t I?”
“With Gareth ruling, it seems dangerous to be anywhere near me. After all, look at what happened to Firth. I thought perhaps you might be afraid to be involved anymore.”
Steffen shrugged.
“There’s little left that frightens me, my lady. After thirty years of sleeping in a basement, I honestly haven’t much to lose. I’m not afraid of kings. It’s injustice that I fear.”
She surveyed Steffen and could see that he was telling the truth. The more time she spent with him, the more respect she had for this man, a funny, quirky man, who saw the world his way. He was much wiser and more intelligent than she had given him credit for, and she felt so indebte
“I’ve called you here because I never had a chance to properly thank you,” she said.
“You have nothing to thank me for, my lady.”
“But I do. And I always repay my debts. I do not hold it fair in my eyes that you continue to be a servant when you have saved the life of a royal. I owe you a great debt, and I wish to repay you. Please tell me how. Would you like wealth? A new position?”
Steffen shook his head.
“My lady, I have no need for wealth. Perhaps in my youth, but not now. I have no place I call home. I sleep in a small room adjacent to the servants’ quarters. I have no family—at least none that will acknowledge me. I have no one and nothing in the world. So I have no need for things. That is how it has always been with me.”
Gwendolyn felt her heart breaking.
“But that is unfair,” she said.
He shrugged.
“That is the way of the world. Some people are born with much, and others with less.”
“But it is never too late,” she said. “I want to at least elevate your position. I want to give you a job elsewhere, with more dignity.”
“As long as your brother is king, I wish to be nowhere near him. The basements suits me just fine.”
“And what if there should be a new ruler one day?” she asked.
He looked right through her, understanding her instantly. He was more perceptive than she thought.
“My lady, if you are that ruler, and I pray to the gods that you will be one day, then I would be honored to fill any position you would give me. But until that day comes, I am content.”
She nodded, suddenly realizing what she would do.
“If that day should come,” she said, “I will need many advisors. There will be few that I would trust as well as you. Not to mention, I like your company.”
Steffen smiled; it was the first time she had ever seen him smile. It made her sad; she could see the little boy behind his eyes, the one who had once wanted to be loved, but had been nothing but rejected. This might be, she realized, the first time in his life he had ever been accepted, the first time he had ever been picked for anything.