Home > A Reign of Steel (The Sorcerer's Ring #11)(19)

A Reign of Steel (The Sorcerer's Ring #11)(19)
Author: Morgan Rice

They walked for a long while in silence, until something occurred to Thor.

“And my mother?” he asked. “Is she alive? Is she a real person? Or just a figment of my hope and imagination? Is she here only because she exists somewhere deep in my subconscious? Only because I always wanted her to exist? Only because I needed her to exist? Only because I dreamed of having a glorious parent?”

King MacGil was silent, expressionless, as they walked.

“You seek absolute answers,” he said. “In the Land of the Druids, you will find there are no absolutes. The only answers you’ll find are within yourself. However powerful you are inside, that is how powerful this world will be before you. Prepare yourself, young Thorgrin, and steel yourself to control the hardest, greatest, most unwieldy weapon of all: your mind.”

* * *
Thor traversed the Land of the Druids for hours, MacGil by his side. The two of them had been laughing and bantering for hours, reminiscing about the old times, about the hunts they had taken together, about King’s Court, about when Thor had first met the King’s daughter. They talked about MacGil’s accepting him into his family; they talked about battle, and knights, and honor, and valor. They talked about King MacGil’s assassin, and the vengeance that had been taken. They talked of politics. But mostly they talked of battle. They were both fearless warriors at their heart, and they understood each other on a deep level. In some ways, Thor felt as if he were here talking to himself. It felt so good to be talking to King MacGil again, to have him back at his side. Thor felt a sense of a break from reality, as if he were wandering in a surreal land, in a dream from which there was no waking up.

They passed through vistas that Thor recognized with delight, places that felt so familiar, places from his hometown, from his countryside, from outside King’s Court. He felt so comfortable here. A part of him could dimly feel his mind creating these places as he went, and it was hard to separate the two; Thor felt as if he were standing at a strange intersection between his own mind and the external reality of the world. It was scary to him to realize the depth of power of his mind. If he could create anything, that meant he could create the most glorious kingdoms with the snap of a finger. Yet if he had a moment of weakness, that meant that, in just a few moments, he could create the darkest kingdoms. That terrified him. How could he keep his mind filled with positive thoughts all the time?

They crested a hill and both stopped, looking out. Thor gasped, awestruck at the sight. He could hardly fathom it: spread out below was King’s Court. It was a perfect replica, so real that Thor was certain it was the real thing. It looked more glorious than he had ever seen it, thousands of knights in shining armor standing before the ancient stone walls, standing before the portcullis, lining the parapets. There were more knights than he’d ever seen, glorious warriors protecting a glorious city.

King MacGil stood beside him and smiled.

“Your mind is a beautiful place, Thorgrin,” he said, looking out and admiring the view. “I never had that many knights in King’s Court. It seems you have increased their ranks!”

King MacGil threw back his head and laughed.

“In fact, I don’t think I have ever seen that many knights at once,” he added. “The shining of their armor blinds me. You truly are a warrior at heart.”

Thor had a hard time believing his mind was creating this; it all seemed so real, so perfect, more real than anything he’d ever seen.

Thor set out on the path with MacGil, the road perfectly immaculate, heading toward the gates. As they went, thousands more knights appeared on the road and stiffened at attention, lined all up and down the road. Trumpets sounded in the distance.

They crossed the bridge, over the moat, under the portcullis, and into King’s Court. As they passed beneath the massive, arched stone gates, waiting to greet them was a single person, smiling, hand outstretched to them.

Gwendolyn.

Thor beamed at the sight of her. She looked more beautiful than ever, with her long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, wearing a regal dress, smiling and holding one hand out for Thor.

Thor hurried to her and embraced her and she leaned in and kissed him, hugging him tight.

Then they turned and walked through King’s Court together, King MacGil falling in beside his daughter.

“I’m glad that you envision my daughter in such a beautiful light,” King MacGil whispered to him. “I see her the same way.”

“Thorgrinson,” Gwendolyn whispered, clasping one hand around his arm, leaning in and kissing his cheek. He could feel her love for him, and it revived him.

“Gwendolyn,” he said, clasping her hand, holding it tight. Suddenly, Thor remembered. “Where’s Guwayne?”

No sooner had he spoken the words then there came the cry of a baby. Thor looked over to see his son in Gwendolyn’s arms. She held him gently, cradling him, smiling.

Thor reached out and took the boy, who leapt into his arms, bigger and older than Thor remembered. Guwayne hugged Thor, and Thor hugged him back.

“Daddy,” Guwayne said into his ear.

It was the first time Thor had ever heard him speak. It was surreal.

Suddenly, Gwendolyn and MacGil stopped, and Thor turned to see why. As he saw, he stopped, too.

Standing before them was a man who meant more to Thor than just about anyone: Argon. He stood dressed in his white cloak and hood, holding his staff, his eyes shining as he stared back, expressionless.

“Thorgrinson,” Argon said.

Thor reached out and handed Guwayne back to Gwen, but as he looked down, he saw that Guwayne was gone. Vanished.

Thor looked over at Gwendolyn, but saw that she was gone, too. So was King MacGil. In fact, as he spun, he saw that everyone—all the knights, all the people that had filled King’s Court just moments before—had disappeared.

The city now stood empty. Now it was just Thor and Argon, standing in this empty place, facing each other.

“It is time to further your training,” Argon said. “Only here, in the Land of the Druids, can you begin to reach the highest levels of who you are; can you begin to tap the deepest levels of your powers. Only here can you understand what it means to be who you are, what it means to be a Druid.”

Thor fell in beside Argon as the two of them walked through King’s Court. There was nothing but silence, and the howling of the wind. Finally, Thor spoke.

“What does it mean to be a Druid?” Thor asked.

   
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