A Feast of Dragons - By Morgan Rice Page 0,50

men against one, not to wait until I was in a space so narrow I could not maneuver. And this is what you must remember: your enemy will never fight on your terms. He will fight on his. War for you means something else to him. What you consider fair and noble, he does not. You must be prepared, at all times, for anything.

“That does not mean you sink to his level. You must fight at all times with our code of honor and chivalry—or else you will lose the spirit of the warrior, which is what sustains you. The day you begin to fight as them is the day you lose your soul. Better to die with honor than to win in disgrace.”

With that, Kolk fell silent, and a deep silence enveloped all the boys around him. For a long while the only sound was that of the whipping of the wind high up on the cliff, of the distant crash of the ocean, somewhere on the horizon.

And then, some time later, came the sound of a distant roar, like thunder. Thor turned, as did the others, and saw something light up the horizon. He stood, with Reese and a few others, to go look.

Thor walked over to the cliff’s edge and looked out at the black night, the horizon lit by a world of stars, their light strong enough to illuminate the swirling red waters of the ocean beneath them. In the distance, far off, Thor could see a red glow. It came in short bursts, then stopped, like a volcano shooting up lava that lit up the night, then just as quickly faded out. There followed another rumbling sound.

“The cry of the Dragon,” came a voice.

Thor looked over, and standing there, set apart from the others, his back to him, staring out over the cliff and holding his staff, was Argon. Thor was shocked to see him.

Thor turned away from the other boys, and walked over to him. He stood beside him and waited until he was ready, knowing better than to disturb him.

“How did you get here?” Thor asked, amazed. “What are you doing here?”

Argon stood there, expressionless, ignoring Thor, still staring out at the horizon.

Thor finally turned and looked at the horizon with him, standing by his side, waiting, trying to be patient, to accept conversation on Argon’s terms.

“The Dragon’s breath,” Argon observed. “This is a dragon that chooses to live apart. You are in his land. He is not pleased.”

Thor thought about that.

“But we are to be here for a hundred days,” Thor said, worried.

Argon turned and looked at him.

“If he chooses to let you,” he responded. “These shores are littered far and wide with the bones of warriors who thought they could conquer the dragon. The pride of man is the feast of dragons.”

Thor swallowed, beginning to realize how precarious the Hundred was.

“Will I survive it?” he asked, hoping for a response.

“Your time to die has not yet come,” Argon responded slowly.

Thor felt immensely relieved to hear that, and surprised that Argon would give him a straight answer. He decided to push his luck.

“Will I also become a member of the Legion?” he asked.

“That, and much more,” Argon replied.

Thor’s spirits lifted even higher. He could not believe he was getting answers out of Argon. He felt a sudden burning curiosity to know why Argon was here. He knew he would not have come here, would not be talking to him, unless he had something important to say.

“Do you see the horizon?” Argon asked. “Beyond the Dragon’s breath? Past the flames? Out there, in the blackness, lies your destiny.”

Thor sensed what he was speaking of. He remembered MacGil’s dying words, about his destiny, about his mother.

“My mother?” Thor asked.

Slowly, Argon nodded.

“She is alive? She is out there? In the Land of the Druids? Is that it?”

Argon turned to him, his eyes aglow.

“Yes,” he answered. “She awaits you even now. You have a great destiny to fulfill.”

Thor was excited beyond belief at the idea of his mother being alive somewhere in the world, at the idea of meeting her, discovering who she was. He was excited at the idea that someone was awaiting him, that someone cared for him. But he was also confused.

“But I thought my destiny was back home, in the Ring?” Thor asked.

Argon shook his head.

“A greater part awaits you out there. Greater than you can ever imagine. The fate of the Ring rests on it. There is great unrest at home.