Thor walked with his head down, downcast, kicking pebbles on the road. Krohn walked at his side and Ephistopheles circled somewhere high above, as he made his way slowly to the Legion barracks. Since the funeral, his encounter with Gwen, he felt deflated. The pain of watching MacGil being lowered into the earth took something out of him - as if a part of him sank into the earth with him. The king had taken him under his wing, had shown him kindness, had given him Ephistopheles, had been the only father figure he'd ever had. He felt as if he owed him something, that it had been his responsibility to save him, and somehow, he had failed. As the bells had tolled, Thor felt as if they tolled the announcement of his failure.
Then there was his encounter with Gwen. She hated him now, that much was obvious. Nothing he could say would change her mind. Even worse, her true thoughts came out today: she felt he was beneath her. A commoner. It seemed Alton had been right all the while. The thought of it crushed him. First he had lost the king; then he had lost the girl he had grown to love.
As he walked back towards the Legion, he realized it was the one thing left that he could cling to here. He cared not for his village, or his father, or his brothers. Without the Legion and Reese - and Krohn - he did not know what he would have left.
Krohn yelped and Thor looked up and saw the barracks before him. The king's banner flew at half mast, and he could already see dozens of boys sulking, and could tell the mood was somber. It was a day of mourning here. The king, their leader, had been murdered, and worse, no one knew who did it, or why. There also seemed to be an air of expectancy. Would the armies be disbanded? The Legion with it?
Thor saw the wary looks of the boys as he walked through the large, arched stone gate. They were stopping and staring at him. He wondered what they thought of him. Just the night before he'd been thrown into the dungeon, and Thor was sure that the rumor had spread that he had something to do with poisoning the king. Did these boys know that he was vindicated? Did they still suspect him? Or did they think he was a hero for trying to save him?
From their looks, he could not tell. But he did know that the tension in the air was thick, and he could tell that he clearly had been a subject of conversation.
As Thor entered the large wooden structure of the barracks, he noticed dozens of boys stuffing their clothes and various objects into canvas sacks. It looked, oddly, as if the Legion were packing up. Was it disbanding? he wondered, in a sudden panic.
"There you are," came a voice he recognized.
He turned to see O'Connor standing there, smiling in his typical good-natured way, his bright red hair and freckles framing his face. He reached out and clasped Thor's forearm.
"I feel like I haven't seen you in days. Are you okay? I heard you were thrown in the clink. What happened?"
"Hey look, it's Thor!" yelled a voice.
Thor turned to see Elden hurrying towards him, a good-natured smile on his face, embracing him. Thor was still amazed at Elden's attitude towards him, ever since he had saved his life across the Canyon, especially when he recalled the hostile greeting Elden had once given him.
Coming up beside him were the twins, Conval and Conven.
"Glad to have you back," Conven said, embracing Thor in a hug.
"And I," Conval echoed.
Thor was relieved to see them all, especially as he realized that they did not assume he had anything to do with the murder.
"It's true," Thor responded, looking at O'Connor, not sure which question to answer first. "I was thrown into the dungeon. At first they thought I had something to do with the king's poisoning. But after he was killed, they realized I had nothing to do with it."
"So they let you free?" O'Connor asked.
Thor thought about that, not quite sure how to respond.
"Not exactly. I escaped."
They all looked at him, wide-eyed.
"Escaped?" Elden asked.
"Once I was out, Reese helped me. He brought me to the king."
"You saw the king before he died?" Conval asked, shocked.
Thor nodded back.
"He knows I am innocent."
"What else did he say?" O'Connor asked.
Thor hesitated. He felt funny telling them about what the king said about his destiny, about being special. He didn't want to seem like he was boasting, or seem delusional, or cause envy. So he decided to omit that part and just tell them how it ended.
Thor looked him in the eye. "He said: avenge me."
The others looked at the floor, grim.
"Do you have any idea who did it?" O'Connor asked.
Thor shook his head.
"As much as you do."
"I would love to catch him," Conven said.
"As would I," Elden added.
"But I don't understand," Thor said, looking around, "what is all this packing? It seems as if everyone is getting to leave."
"We are," O'Connor said. "Including you."
O'Connor reached over, grabbed a canvas sack, and threw it at Thor. It hit Thor hard in the chest, and he grabbed it before it hit the ground.
"What do you mean?" Thor asked, puzzled.
"The Hundred starts tomorrow," Elden answered. "We are all preparing."
"The Hundred?" Thor asked.
"Do you know nothing?" Conval asked.
"It seems we have to teach this young one everything," Conven added.
Conven stepped forward and draped an arm across Thor's shoulder.
"Don't worry, my friend. There's always much to learn in the Legion. The Hundred is the Legion's way of making us all hardened warriors - and weeding us out. It is a rite of passage. Every year, at summertime, they send us for a hundred days of the most grueling training you'll ever know. Some of us will return. Those who do are granted honors, weapons, and a permanent place in the Legion."
Thor looked around, still puzzled. "But why are you packing?"
"Because the Hundred is not here," Elden explained. "They ship us off. Literally. Far from here. We must journey across the Canyon, into the Wilds, across the Tartuvian Sea, and all the way to the Isle of Mist. It is a hundred days of hell. We all dread it. But we must go through it, if we are to stay in the Legion. Our ship sails tomorrow, so pack quickly."
Thor looked down at the sack in his hand, unbelieving. He could hardly imagine packing up what few things he had, crossing the Canyon into the Wilds, boarding a ship, and spending a hundred days on an island with all the Legion members. The thought of it excited him; it also terrified him. He'd never been on a ship, had never been across the sea. He loved the idea of advancing his skills, and he hoped he would make it and not be weeded out.
"Before you pack, you should report to your knight," Conven said. "You are squire to Kendrick now that Erec is gone, aren't you?"
Thor nodded back. "Yes, is he here?"
"He was outside with some of the other Knights," he answered. "He was preparing his horse, and I know he was looking for you."
As Thor stood there, his mind reeling, the thought of the Hundred excited him more than he could say. He wanted to be tested, to be pushed to the extreme, to see if he was as good as the others. And if he made it back - and he felt sure he would - he would return a stronger warrior.
"Are you sure that I'm included, that I'm allowed to come, too?" Thor asked.
"Of course you are," O'Connor said. "Assuming, of course, your knight doesn't need you here. You need his permission."
"Ask him," Elden said, "and be quick of it. There is much to do to prepare, and you're already far behind. The ships will not wait. And whoever does not go, cannot stay in the Legion."
"Try the armory," O'Connor said. "I saw Kendrick there just an hour ago."
Thor needed no prodding. He turned and ran from the barracks, out the door and across the fields, heading for the armory, Krohn yelping and running at his heels.
In moments he reached it, breathing hard, and there was Kendrick. He stood there alone, inside the armory, looking up at a wall of halberds. He looked pensive, intense, lost in thought. Thor felt as if he had intruded on private time, and felt guilty for interrupting.
Kendrick turned, and his eyes were red from crying. Thor thought of his father's funeral, remembered Kendrick lowering him into the ground, and felt terrible.
"Forgive me, sire," Thor said, catching his breath. He could see Kendrick's grief and felt bad for intruding. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you. I will leave."
As Thor turned to leave, his voice rang out.
"No. Stay. I would like to speak with you."
Thor turned back and waited, quiet, feeling Kendrick's pain. Kendrick waited a long time in the silence, examining the weaponry.
"My father, he loved you very much," Kendrick said. "He barely knew you, but I could see his love for you. It was real."
"Thank you, sire. I loved your father, too."
"The people in this kingdom, and in the royal court, they have never considered me to be his true son. Just because I was the son of another mother."
Kendrick turned to Thor, a determination in his eyes.
"But I am his son. As much as any of the others. He was a father to me. My only father. My father by blood. Just because we don't share the same mother, that doesn't make me any less," Kendrick reflected, reaching out and feeling the tip of a blade mounted on the wall, his eyes misty.
"I didn't know him long," Thor said, "but from what I saw, I could see his love for you, and his approval for you. It seemed to me to be as real and as strong as it was for any of the others."
Kendrick nodded, and Thor could see the appreciation in his eyes.
"He was a good man. He could be a hard man, and a tough man. But he was a good man, always fair. Our kingdom will not be the same without him."
"I wish you could be king," Thor said. "You would be the best one to rule."
Kendrick looked at the blade.
"Our kingdom has its law. And I must abide by it. I feel no envy for my brother, Gareth. The law dictates that he should rule, and he will. I do feel upset for my sister, who was passed over. That was not my father's wish. But for myself, I feel no regret. I don't know if Gareth will be a good King. But that is the law, and the law is not always fair. It is uncompromising: that is its nature."
Kendrick turned to Thor and examined him.
"And why have you come here?" he asked.
"Since Erec has left, I am told that I have been assigned to be your squire now. It is a great honor, sire. I can think of no finer knight."
"Ah, Erec," Kendrick said, looking off, glassy-eyed. "The finest knight we have. He's off for his Selection year, is he? Yes, I am pleased to have you as my squire, though I'm sure it will not last long. He'll be back. He can never leave King's Court for long."
Kendrick's expression suddenly morphed to one of understanding.
"So then you are coming to me to ask for permission to leave for The Hundred, are you?" he asked.
"Yes, sire. If that is okay with you. If it is not, I understand, and I am here to serve your needs."
Kendrick shook his head.
"Every young Legion member must go through The Hundred. It is a rite of passage. Selfishly, I would like you here, but I will not hold you back. Go. You'll come back a stronger warrior and a far better squire."
Thor was overwhelmed with gratitude towards Kendrick. He was about to ask him more about what lay in store with The Hundred when suddenly, the door to the armory burst open.
Thor and Kendrick turned to see Alton standing there, dressed in his royal finest, flanked by two guards of the royal court.
"There he is!" Alton screamed, pointing a haughty finger at Thor. "He's the one who struck me at the feast last night! A commoner, can you imagine? He struck a member of the royal family. He has violated our law. Arrest him!"
The two guards began to walk towards Thor, when Kendrick stepped forward and extracted his sword from his scabbard. The sound of the metal resonated in the armory, and as Kendrick stood there, fierce, holding his sword drawn before him, the two guards stopped in their tracks.
"Come any closer and you will pay the price," Kendrick threatened.
Thor could hear in his voice something deep and dark, a tone he had never heard before; the guards must have sensed it, too, because they dared not move.
"I am a member of the royal family," Kendrick corrected. "An immediate member. You, Alton, are not. You are son to a third cousin to the king. You guards will answer to me before you do to this pretender. And Thor is my squire. He is not to be touched. Not now or ever."
"But he broke the law!" Alton whined, bunching his fists like a baby. "A commoner cannot strike royalty!"
Kendrick smiled.
"In this case, I am very glad he did. In fact if I were there, I would have struck you myself. Whatever it is that you did, I'm sure you deserved it - and a lot more."
Alton scowled, turning red.
"I suggest you guards leave now. Or if you prefer, come closer, and pay the price. I'm itching to use my sword, actually."
The two guards gave each other a wary look, them both turned, re-sheathed their swords, and strutted out the armory. Only Alton was left there, standing alone, watching in frustration as the guards left.
"I would suggest you follow them quickly, before I find a good use for this blade in my hands."
Kendrick took a step forward, and Alton suddenly turned and ran out the door.
Kendrick, smiling, re-sheathed his sword and turned to Thor.
Thor was overwhelmed with gratitude, and he felt indebted to Kendrick, once again.
"I don't know how to thank you," Thor said.
Kendrick took a step forward and laid a hand on his shoulder.
"You already have. Just seeing the look on that pip's face actually made my day."
Kendrick laughed and Thor laughed, too. Then Kendrick looked at him with all seriousness.
"My father did not take people under his wing lightly. He saw something great in you. I see it, too. You will make us proud. Go to The Hundred and excel. Go and become the warrior that I know you will be."
Thor walked in the summer fields outside the Legion's compound, Krohn beside him, late in the day, the second sun dropping, filling the sky with spectacular pinks and oranges and purples. Krohn whined in delight as Thor led him deeper and deeper into the fields, giving him a chance to run, to play, to chase animals and to catch his dinner. Krohn carried an Ursutuay in his mouth now, a strange creature about the size of a rabbit, with purple fur and three heads, which he had proudly caught but minutes before.
Krohn was getting bigger and bigger before his eyes, now nearly twice the size from when he'd found him, and he was getting more of a desire to run and move about. Krohn was also becoming more playful, and he demanded that Thor take him farther and farther, and run with him. If Thor didn't run with him as much as he wanted, Krohn would nip playfully at Thor's ankles, and not let him alone until Thor chased him. Then, Krohn would take off with a delighted squeal, until Thor got tired of chasing him.
As the day had grown long, Thor had wanted a break from the barracks, from all the frantic preparations. He was all packed now, as was everybody else, and it felt as if they were counting down the hours until they left the Ring. Thor didn't know exactly when they were leaving, but he was told it would be within the next day or two. The mood in the barracks was tense and edgy, filled with anxiety for the trip to come and mourning for the king. It was like a time of great change had swept through them suddenly.
Thor wanted one last chance to be alone before the trip, to clear his head, still swimming with the death of the king, and with his encounter with Gwendolyn. His mind drifted to thoughts of Erec, of where he must be now. Would he ever return? He thought of how temporary life could be: everything seemed so permanent, but it rarely was. It made him feel more alive, and less alive, at the same time.
"Nothing is as it seems," came a voice.
Thor wheeled, and was shocked to see Argon, standing there, dressed in his scarlet robe, holding a staff and looking out to the distant horizon, into the vast expanse of the open sky. Thor, as always, wondered how Argon had appeared here so suddenly. Thor looked at him, and felt both a sense of dread and excitement.
"I was searching for you, after the funeral," Thor said. "There are so many questions I have for you. Even before the death. But I could not find you."
"I do not always wish to be found," Argon said. His eyes were shining, a light blue.
Thor stared at him, wondering how much Argon was seeing right now. Did he see the future? Would he tell him if he did?
"We're leaving tomorrow," Thor said, "for The Hundred."
"I know," Argon answered.
"Will I return?" Thor asked, dying to know.
Argon looked away.
"Will I still be in the Legion? Will I pass the test? Become a great warrior?"
Argon stared back, expressionless.
"Many questions," he said, and turned and looked away. Thor realized he was not going to respond to any of them.
"If I told you your future, it might affect it," Argon added. "Every choice you make, that is what creates it."
"But I saw MacGil's future," Thor said. "In that dream. I saw that he was going to die. And yet I tried to help and it did no good. What was the point of my seeing it? What was the point of all that? I wish I'd never known."
"Don't you?" Argon asked. "But your knowing affected destiny. He was meant to be poisoned. You prevented that."
Thor stared back, puzzled. He had never thought of that.
"But he was killed anyway," Thor said.
"But not by poison. By dagger. And you don't know what effect that small change will have on the destiny of this kingdom."
Thor thought about that, his head hurting. It was too much for him to comprehend. He didn't fully understand what Argon was hinting at.
"The King wanted to see me before he died," Thor continued quickly, eager for answers. "Why me? Of all people? And what did he mean, when he spoke of my mother? Of my destiny being greater than his? Were these just the words of a dying man?"
"I think you know they were far more than that," Argon replied.
"So then it's true?" Thor asked. "My destiny is greater even than his? How is that possible? He was a king. I am nothing."
"Are you, then?" Argon asked back.
Argon took several steps forward, standing feet away from Krohn, and stared down at him. Krohn whined, and turned and ran away. Thor felt a chill, as Argon stared right through him.
"God does not choose the arrogant for his will. He chooses the humble. The least likely. Those overlooked by everyone else. Have you not considered this? All of your days farming, tending your father's sheep in your village. This is a warrior's - a true warrior's - foundation. Humility. Reflection. This is what forges a warrior. Did you never sense it? That you were greater than what you were? That you were meant for something else?"
Thor thought, and realized that he had sensed it.
"Yes," Thor responded. "I felt that...maybe I was meant for greater things."
"And now that they arrive, you still don't believe it?" Argon asked.
"But why me?" Thor asked. "What are my powers? What is my destiny? Where did I come from? Who was my mother? Why must everything in life be such a riddle?"
Argon slowly shook his head.
"One day, you will discover these things. But you have much to learn first. You must first become who you are. Your powers are deep, but you know not how to wield them. A mighty river flows within you, but it still lingers beneath the surface. You must bring it forward. You will learn much in your hundred days. But remember, that will be just the beginning."
Thor looked up at Argon, wondering how much he saw.
"I feel guilty to live," Thor said. He wanted desperately to tell Argon what was on his mind, the one person who could understand. "The king is dead, and yet I am alive. I feel that his death is on my head. And it hurts to go on."
Argon turned and looked at him.
"One king dies and another follows. That is the way of the world. A throne is not meant to sit empty. Kings will flow, like a river, through our Ring. All will seem permanent, and all will be fleeting. Nothing in this world - not you, not I - can stop the current. It is a parade of puppets, in the service of fate. It is a march of kings."
Thor sighed, looking out at the horizon for a very long time.
"The ways of the universe are inscrutable," he finally continued. "You will not understand them. Yes, it hurts to go on. But we must. We have no choice. And remember," he said, smiling at Thor with a smile that terrified him, "one day, you will join MacGil, too. Your time here is but a flash. Don't let life weigh you down with fear and guilt and regret. Embrace every moment of it. Do you understand me? The best thing you can do for MacGil now is to live. To really live. Do you understand me?"
Argon reached out and grabbed Thor by the shoulders, and it felt like two fires burning through his arms. He stared down with such intensity, Thor finally had to turn his head, and blink his eyes shut.
He raised up his hands to protect his eyes, and then suddenly, he felt nothing. He looked up. Argon was gone. Vanished.
Thor stood there alone in the field, turning in every direction. He saw nothing but the open sky, the open plains, and the howling of the wind.
Thor sat around the fire on the cool summer night, staring into the flames silently with the other Legion members as the wood cracked and popped. He leaned back on his elbows and looked up at the night sky, and in the distance, countless stars twinkled red and orange. Thor wondered, as he often did it, about distant worlds out there. He wondered if there were planets that weren't divided by canyons, seas that weren't protected by dragons, kingdoms that were not divided by armies. He wondered about the nature of fate and destiny.
The fire crackled, and he looked over at the roaring flames, around which sat his brothers-in-arms, hunched over, arms resting on their knees, looking somber and on-edge. Some of them roasted pieces of meat on sticks.
"Want one?" came a voice.
Thor turned and saw Reese, sitting beside him, holding out a stick wrapped in a white, gooey substance. He looked around and saw that they were being passed around to other boys around the fire.
"What is it?" Thor asked, as he took it and touched the white mass. It was sticky.
"Sap from the Sigil Tree. You roast it. Wait until it turns purple. It's delicious. And it will be the last tasty thing you have in a while."
Thor watched the other boys holding their sticks into the fire, watched as the white substance hissed. He held his out, too, into the flames, and was amazed as the substance bubbled over, then turned colors. It turned all the colors of the rainbow before it turned purple.
He pulled it out and tasted it, and was amazed at how good it was. It was sweet and chewy, and he took bite after bite.
Seated on his other side, chewing happily, were Elden, O'Connor, and the twins. As Thor looked around, he realized that the Legion fell into natural cliques. With the ages ranging from 14 to 19, and with nearly a hundred boys in the Legion, there were a dozen boys in each age range. The 19 year olds barely acknowledged the 14-year-olds, and each year seemed to stick to itself. Looking at the faces of the 19 year olds, Thor could hardly conceive how much older they looked, like full-grown men, compared to the boys his age. They looked almost too old to even still be in the Legion.
"Are they coming, too?" Thor asked Reese. He did not need to ask where. The Hundred was on everyone's mind this night, and no one seemed to think or talk of anything else.
"Of course," Reese answered. "Everyone goes. No exceptions. Every age range."
"The only difference," Elden interceded, "is that when they return, they are done with the Legion. It only goes to 19. And then they graduate."
"And then what?" Thor asked.
"If they make it through their final Hundred," Reese answered, "then they go before the King, and the King chooses which become Knights. Then, if they are chosen, the kingdom places them in posts for patrol duty throughout the kingdom. They have to do two years of rotation. Then they return to King's Court, and are eligible to join The Silver."
"Is it possible that they wouldn't pass the Hundred? After all these years?" Thor asked.
Reese furrowed his brow.
"It is different for every age and every year. I know stories of many who have not made it, at any age."
The group of boys fell silent, as Thor stared into the flames, wondering what lay ahead of them. After a long while, there was a commotion, and the boys turned to see Kolk marching into the center of the circle, his back to the flames, flanked by two warriors. Kolk scowled down at the boys, slowly pacing, looking each one in the eye as he went.
"Rest up, and eat up," he said. "This will be the last time you do. From here on, you're no longer boys, but men. You're about to embark on the hardest hundred days of your life. When you return - if you return - those of you who return will finally be worth something. Now, you're nothing."
Kolk continued pacing, walking slowly, looking as if he wanted to strike fear into each and every one of them.
"The Hundred is not a test," he continued. "It is not practice. It is real. What you do here, the sparring, the training - that is practice. But in the next hundred days, that is all gone. You will be entering a war zone. We are crossing the Canyon, will be beyond the shield, trekking for miles through the Wilds, into unguarded territory. We will be boarding ships, and crossing the Tartuvian Sea. We will be in enemy waters, far from the coast. We will be going to an island that is unmanned and unprotected from attack, in the heart of the Empire. We could be ambushed any time. There will be enemy forces all around us. And dragons lurk not far from there.
"Without fail, there will be battle. A few of us warriors will accompany you, but mostly you will be on your own. You will be men, forced to fight real men's battles. Sometimes to the death. This is how you learn battle. Each year, some of you will die. Some will be injured permanently. Some will drop out from fear. And the select few who return - those are the ones who merit joining the Legion. If you are too scared to go, don't show up tomorrow. Every year at this night, a few of you will pack up and leave. If that is you, I hope you do. We don't want cowards joining us."
With that, Kolk turned and stormed away, his men following.
A low whisper spread among the boys, as they looked solemnly at each other. Thor could see fear on many of their faces.
"Is it really that bad?" O'Connor asked a boy sitting beside him. The boy was older, maybe 18, and he stared into the flames, his wide jaw locked in a grimace.
He nodded.
"It is different every time," he said. "I've had many of my brothers not come back with me. Like he said, it's real. The best advice I can give you is to prepare for life-and-death. But I'll tell you one thing: if you make it back, you'll be a better warrior than you ever thought you could be."
Thor wondered if he could make it. Was he tough enough? How would he react when faced with real life and death combat? How could they sustain a hundred days of it? And what he would be like when he came back? He sensed that he would not return the same person. None of them would. And they would all be in it together.
He looked at Reese's face, and saw how distracted he was, and realized he was weighed down by something else. His father.
"I'm sorry," Thor said to him.
Reese did not look at him, but slowly nodded, his eyes welling, looking down at the ground.
"I just want to know who did it," Reese said "I just want to know who killed him."
"As would I," Elden echoed.
"And we," the twins echoed.
"Did he tell you anything?" Reese asked Thor. "In those last minutes with him? Did he tell you who did it?"
Thor could sense the others all looking at him. He tried to remember exactly what the king said.
"He told me he saw who did it. But he could not remember his face."
"But was it someone he knew?" Reese pressed.
"He said it was," Thor said.
"But that hardly narrows it down," O'Connor said. "A king knows more people than we ever will."
"I'm sorry," Thor added. "He didn't tell me anymore."
"But you were in there with him for minutes before he died," Reese pressed. "What else did he say to you?"
Thor hesitated, wondering how much to tell Reese. He didn't want to make him envious or jealous, or cause jealousy among the other boys. What could he possibly say? That the king said his destiny was greater than his? That would only stir the envy and hatred of everyone else.
"He did not say much," Thor said. "He was mostly silent."
"But then why did he want to see you? You specifically? Right before he died? Why did he not want to see me?" Reese pressed.
Thor sat there, not knowing how to respond. He realized how bad Reese must have felt, being his son, and having his father choose to see someone else in his final moments. He did not know what to say to comfort him, and had to think of something fast.
"He wanted me to tell you how much he cared for you," Thor lied. "I think it was easier for him to tell a stranger."
Thor felt Reese examining him to see if he was lying.
Finally, Reese turned and looked away, seeming satisfied. Thor felt bad not telling the complete truth. He hated to lie, and he never did. But he did not know what else to say. And he did not want to hurt his friend's feelings.
"And what of the sword now?" Conval asked.
Reese turned and looked at him.
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean. The Dynasty Sword. Now that the king is dead, the next MacGil will have a chance to try to wield it. I hear that Gareth is being crowned. Is that true?"
All the boys around the fire, even the older ones, grew quiet and looked at Reese.
Reese slowly nodded.
"It is," he said.
"That means Gareth will get to try," O'Connor said.
Reese shrugged.
"According to tradition, yes. If he chooses to."
"Do you think he'll be able to wield it?" Elden asked. "Do you think he is the One?"
Reese snorted in derision.
"Are you kidding? He's my brother by blood only. Not by choice. I have nothing to do with him. He is not the One. He is not even a King. He is barely a prince. If my father were alive, he would never be king. I would bet my life that he would be unable to wield that sword."
"And then how shall that look to the other kingdoms, if our new king should try and fail?" Conval asked. "Another failed MacGil king? It will make us seem weak."
"Are you saying that my father was a failure?" Reese snapped, on edge.
"No," Conval said, backing down. "I didn't meant that. I'm just saying that our kingdom will look weak if our new king fails to wield the sword. It could invite attack by others."
Reese shrugged.
"There is nothing we can do. When the right time comes, one day, a MacGil will wield that sword."
"Maybe it will be you," Elden said.
All the others turned and stared at Reese
"After all," Elden added, "you are the king's other true son."
"So is Godfrey," Reese answered. "He is also older than me."
"But Godfrey would never rule. And after Gareth, that leaves you."
"None of that matters," Reese said. "Gareth is king now. Not me."
"Maybe not for long," said one of the other boys, a deep voice from somewhere in the crowd.
"What do you mean?" Reese asked into the night, searching out the face.
But only silence came in return, as the others looked away.
"There are rumors of a revolt," Elden said finally. "Gareth is nothing like you. Nothing like us. He has made many enemies. Especially among the Legion, and among the Silver. Anything can happen. You might one day find yourself King."
Reese reddened.
"I would only wish to be king if it were legitimate. Not under those circumstances. Not because of my father's early death, and not because Gareth was betrayed. Besides, my eldest brother Kendrick would be far better than me."
"But he is not eligible," said O'Connor.
"Well then there is also my sister, Gwendolyn. That was my father's final wish."
"For a girl to rule?" someone yelled out in surprise. "That would never happen."
"But that was his wish," Reese insisted.
"But he shall not get his wish now, shall he?" someone remarked.
Slowly, Reese shook his head.
"For better or for worse, we're all in Gareth's hands now," he said.
"Who knows what we shall return to in a hundred days?" Elden remarked.
The group fell silent, as they all stared into the flames.
Thor sat there, thinking. The mention of Gwendolyn's name left a pit in his stomach. He turned and whispered to Reese.
"Your sister," he said. "Did you see her, after the funeral?"
Reese looked at Thor, and slowly nodded.
"We spoke. I cleared your name. She knows you had nothing to do in the brothel."
Thor felt a great sense of relief, felt his stomach relax for the first time in days. He was overwhelmed with gratitude towards Reese.
"Did she say she wants to see me again?" Thor asked, hopefully.
Reese shook his head.
"I'm sorry, my brother," he said. "She is a proud one. She does not like to admit when she's wrong. Even if she is."
Thor turned and looked back into the flames, and slowly nodded. He understood. He felt a hollowness in his stomach, but it gave him strength. There would be a long hundred days ahead of him, and it would be best if he had nothing left to care for.
Thor stood in the king's chamber, over his bed, the room dark save for a single torch at the far end that flickered slowly. Thor took three slow steps, knelt down beside the king, and held his hand. His eyes were closed. He looked peaceful. He was cold and still, and Thor could feel that he was dead.
MacGil's crown still sat on his head, and as Thor watched, Ephistopheles suddenly flew into the room, swooped down through an open window, and landed on the king's head. She grabbed the crown in her mouth, and flew away with it. She screeched as she flew out the window, her huge wings flapping, carrying the crown far into the sky.
Thor looked back at MacGil, and saw that now, in his place, lay Gareth. Thor quickly withdrew his hand, as he saw that Gareth's hand was that of a snake; he looked up and saw that Gareth's face was transforming, mixed with that of a cobra. He had scaly skin, and a tongue which flickered out at him. Gareth smiled an evil smile, his eyes flashing yellow.
Thor blinked, and when he opened his eyes, he found himself standing in his village, back home. The streets were deserted. The houses were all deserted, too, the doors and windows open, as if the entire village had left in haste.
Thor walked down the road he remembered, dust swirling all around him, until he arrived at his old house, a small, white clay dwelling, its door wide open.
He walked inside, ducking his head, and there, sitting at the table, his back to him, was his father. Thor walked around, his heart thumping, not wanting to see him again - but at the same time feeling compelled to.
Thor reached the far end of the table, and sat down at the other head, facing his father. His father's wrists were chained to the wood, with big iron shackles, and he stared sternly back.
"You have killed our king," his father said.
"I did not," Thor responded.
"You were never part of this family," his father said.
Thor's heart pounded, as he tried to process his father's words.
"I never loved you!" his father screamed, standing, breaking the shackles. He took several steps towards Thor, the shackles flailing. "I never wanted you!" he shrieked.
He charged Thor, raising his huge hands as if to choke him. Just as his hands closed in on Thor's throat, Thor blinked.
Thor stood at the head of a ship, a huge, wooden warship, its bow crashing deep into the ocean then rising high, waves crashing all around him. Thor stood at the helm, and before him flew Ephistopheles, still carrying the king's crown. In the distance there appeared an island, rising out from the sea, covered in a mist. And beyond that, a flame in the sky. The sky was filled with dark purple clouds, the two suns sitting near each other.
Thor heard a horrific roar, and he knew this was the Isle of Mist.
Thor woke with a start. He sat up breathing hard. He looked all around him, wondering.
It had been a dream. He was lying there, in the barracks, in the early light of dawn, the other boys sleeping all around him. His heart pounded as he wiped the sweat from his brow. It had seemed so real.
"I know something of bad dreams, boy," came a voice.
Thor spun and saw Kolk standing there, not far off, fully dressed, hands on his hips, looking down at the other boys.
"You're the first to rise," he said. "That is good. We have a long journey ahead of us. And your nightmares are just the beginning."