understood. He had never seen Reece afraid of anything, but looking at him now, he wondered if Reece would be able to muster the courage to approach her in the morning.
Thor understood, too well. He was hardly one to talk. He hadn’t been able to muster the courage to ask Gwendolyn to marry him. In some ways, he was realizing, the courage needed to race into battle was nothing compared to the courage needed to face the rejection of a girl you loved.
More villagers appeared, distributing a fresh round of goko sticks, a red, chewy substance on the end of long sticks, which Thor and the others held over the fire. They hissed as they held them over the flames, burned bright, then burned out quickly. Thor blew on his, and ate. It was sweet and delicious. They had helped these villagers, but these villagers had treated them very well in return. He was still stuffed from the huge meal they had given them earlier.
As the group drifted off into a content silence, Thor lay back on one elbow and looked up at the night sky, at the sparkling red and yellow stars, so far away. His thoughts returned to Gwendolyn. He thought of their last trip, to the House of Scholars, thought of those books. He watched the distant stars and thought again of his mother, of that map, of the Land of the Druids. He wondered if he would ever make it there. He wondered why there had to be a sea between he and his mother, why he had never met her. He wondered again of his destiny.
Thor felt there a mystery at his fingertips, just out of reach of his thoughts. His thoughts swirled, as he tried to get to the bottom of it, thinking of his mother, his father, his upbringing, of the Druids. But it had been a long day, too long, and his mind was overcome with exhaustion; although he tried to fight it, the cool fall breezes were lulling him to sleep, and before he knew it, his eyes closed without him.
*
Thor walked slowly through the streets of his hometown, which sat desolate, doors opened, each home sitting vacant. The wind ripped through it, sending clouds of dust and huge thorn bushes rolling right at Thor. Thor raised his hands to his eyes and pressed on. He did not know what he was doing here, but he felt he needed to be here for some reason, that there was something he needed to see.
He turned down the corner of his old block, and in the distance he saw his house, which approached quickly. The door was ajar, and he walked inside.
Everything was exactly as he had left it. But it was empty now. His father was gone, and Thor sensed that he had left long ago.
Thor walked out the back door, towards the shed where he used to sleep, and as he did, he was surprised to see a woman standing in the doorway. She wore flowing blue robes and held a long, intricate yellow staff. A blue light shined from her face, so intense that he could not make out her features. He sensed that she was someone important his life. Perhaps, even, he dared to hope, his mother.
“Thorgrin, my son,” she said, her voice so gentle, so soothing, “I await you. It is time for you to return home. It is time for you to know who you are.”
Thor took a step closer to her, so curious to see her face, to know more. Her energy drew him in like a magnet, but the closer he got, the more intense the light became, and he raised his hands and found he could not get any closer.
“Mother?” he asked. “Is that you?”
“Come home, Thorgrin,” she said, urgently. “Come home now.”
She stepped forward and held his shoulders, and Thor felt an intense energy pouring through him, felt his own body infusing with light. He still could not see her face, and he reached up and shielded his eyes from the light, which felt as if it might burn right through him.
Thor sat up, breathing hard, looking all around him. He was surprised to realize he had been dreaming. It had felt so real.
Thor lay with the other Legion members on the ground before the dying fire, where he had fallen asleep. The others still slept. He turned to see dawn breaking over the horizon, the first sun flooding the sky with yellow