CHAPTER THREE
Thor raised his hands to his eyes, blinded by the light, as the shining, golden doors to his mother’s castle opened wide, so intense he could barely see. A figure walked out toward him, a silhouette, a woman he sensed, in every fiber of his being, to be his mother. Thor’s heart pounded as he saw her standing there, arms at her side, facing him.
Slowly, the light began to fade, just enough for him to lower his hands and look at her. It was the moment he had been waiting for his entire life, the moment that had haunted him in his dreams. He could not believe it: it was really her. His mother. Inside this castle, perched atop this cliff. Thor opened his eyes fully and laid eyes upon her for the first time, standing but a few feet away, staring back. For the first time, he saw her face.
Thor’s breath caught in his throat as he looked back at the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She looked timeless, at once both old and young, her skin nearly translucent, her face shining. She smiled back at him sweetly, her long blonde hair falling down past her stomach, her big bright translucent gray eyes, her perfectly chiseled cheekbone and jawline matching his. What surprised Thor most as he stared at her was that he could recognize many of his own features in her face—the curve of her jaw, her lips, the shade of her gray eyes, even her proud forehead. In some ways, it was like staring back at himself. She also looked strikingly like Alistair.
Thor’s mother, dressed in a white silk robe and cloak, the hood pulled back, stood with her palms out to her sides, adorned with no jewelry, her palms smooth, her skin like that of a baby’s. Thor could feel the intense energy exuding from her, more intense than he had ever felt, like the sun, enveloping him. As he stood basking in it, he felt waves of love directed toward him. He had never before felt such unconditional love and acceptance. He felt like he belonged.
Standing here now, before her, Thor finally felt as if a part of him were complete, as if all was okay in the world.
“Thorgrin, my son,” she said.
It was the most beautiful voice he’d ever heard, soft, reverberating off the ancient stone walls of the castle, sounding as if it had come down from heaven itself. Thor stood there in shock, not knowing what to do or what to say. Was this all real? He wondered briefly if it was all just another creation in the Land of the Druids, just another dream, or his mind playing tricks on him. He had been wanting to embrace his mother for as long as he could remember, and he took a step forward, determined to know if she was an apparition.
Thor reached out to embrace her, and as he did, he was afraid that his hug would go through nothing but air, all of this just an illusion. But as Thor reached out, he felt his arms wrap around her, felt himself hug a real person—and he felt her hug him back. It was the most amazing feeling in the world.
She hugged him tight, and Thor was elated to know that she was real. That this was all real. That he had a mother, that she really existed, that she was here in the flesh, in this land of illusion and fantasy—and that she really cared about him.
After a long while, they leaned back, and Thor looked at her, tears in his eyes, and saw that there were tears in hers, too.
“I’m so proud of you, my son,” she said.
He stared back, at a loss for words.
“You have completed your journey,” she added. “You are worthy to be here. You have become the man I always knew you would.”
Thor looked back at her, taking in her features, still amazed by the fact that she really existed, and wondering what to say. His entire life he’d had so many questions for her; yet now that he was here before her, he was drawing a blank. He wasn’t sure even where to begin.
“Come with me,” she said, turning, “and I will show you this place—this place where you were born.”
She smiled and held out her hand, and Thor grasped it.
They walked side-by-side into the castle, his mother leading the way, light exuding off of her and bouncing off the walls. Thor took it all in in wonder: it was the most resplendent place he’d ever seen, its walls made of sparkling gold, everything shining, perfect, surreal. He felt as if he had come to a magical castle in heaven.
They passed down a long corridor with high arched ceilings, light bouncing off of everything. Thor looked down and saw the floor was covered in diamonds, smooth, sparkling in a million points of light.
“Why did you leave me?” Thor suddenly asked.
They were the first words Thor had spoken, and they surprised even him. Of all the things he wanted to ask her, for some reason this popped out first, and he felt embarrassed and ashamed that he hadn’t anything nicer to say. He hadn’t meant to be so abrupt.
But his mother’s compassionate smile never faltered. She walked beside him, looking at him with pure love, and he could feel such love and acceptance from her, could feel that she did not judge him, no matter what he said.
“You are right to be upset with me,” she said. “I need to ask your forgiveness. You and your sister meant more to me than anything in the world. I wanted to raise you here—but I could not. Because you are both special. Both of you.”
They turned down another corridor, and his mother stopped and turned to Thor.
“You are not just a Druid, Thorgrin, not just a warrior. You are the greatest warrior that has ever been, or ever will be—and the greatest Druid, too. Yours is a special destiny; your life is meant to be bigger, much bigger, than this place. It is life and a destiny meant to be shared with the world. That is why I set you free. I had to let you out in the world, in order for you to become the man you are, in order for you to have the experiences you had and to learn to become the warrior you are meant to be.”
She took a deep breath.
“You see, Thorgrin, it is not seclusion and privilege that make a warrior—but toil and hardship, suffering and pain. Suffering above all. It killed me to watch you suffer—and yet paradoxically, that was what you needed most in order to become the man you have become. Do you understand, Thorgrin?”
Thor did indeed, for the first time in his life, understand. For the first time, it all made sense. He thought of all the suffering he had encountered in his life: his being raised without a mother, reared as a lackey to his brothers, by a father who hated him, in a small, suffocating village, viewed by everyone as a nobody. His upbringing had been one long string of indignities.
But now he was beginning to see that he needed that; that all of his toil and tribulation was meant to be.
“All of your hardship, your independence, your struggling to find your own way,” his mother added, “it was my gift to you. It was my gift to make you stronger.”
A gift, Thorgrin thought to himself. He had never thought of it that way before. At the time, it felt like the farthest thing from a gift—yet now, looking back, he knew that it was exactly that. As she spoke the words, he realized that she was right. All the adversity in his life that he had faced—it had all been a gift, to help mold him into what he had become.
His mother turned, and the two continued to walk side-by-side through the castle, and Thor’s mind spun with a million questions for her.
“Are you real?” Thor asked.
Once again, he was ashamed for being so blunt, and once again he found himself asking a question he did not expect to ask. Yet he felt an intense desire to know.
“Is this place real?” Thor added. “Or is it all just illusion, just a figment of my own imagination, like the rest of this land?”
His mother smiled at him.
“I am as real as you,” she replied.
Thor nodded, assured at the response.
“You are correct that the Land of Druids is a land of illusion, a magic land within yourself,” she added. “I am very much real—yet at the same time, like you, I am a Druid. Druids are not so attached to physical place as are humans. Which means that a part of me lives here, while a part of me lives elsewhere. That is why I am always with you, even if you cannot see me. Druids are everywhere and nowhere at once. We straddle two worlds that others do not.”
“Like Argon,” Thor replied, recalling Argon’s distant gaze, his sometimes appearing and disappearing, his being everywhere and nowhere at once.
She nodded.
“Yes,” she replied. “Just like my brother.”
Thor gaped, in shock.
“Your brother?” he repeated.
She nodded.
“Argon is your uncle,” she said. “He loves you very much. He always has. And Alistair, too.”
Thor pondered it all, overwhelmed.
His brow furrowed as he thought of something.
“But for me, it’s different,” Thor said. “I don’t quite feel as you. I feel more of an attachment to place than you. I can’t travel to other worlds as freely as Argon.”
“That is because you are half human,” she replied.
Thor thought about that.
“I am here now, in this castle, in my home,” he said. “This is my home, is it not?”
“Yes,” she replied. “It is. Your true home. As much as any home you have in the world. Yet Druids are not as attached to the concept of home.”
“So if I wanted to stay here, to live here, I could?” Thor asked.
His mother shook her head.
“No,” she said. “Because your time here, in the Land of the Druids, is finite. Your arriving here was destined—yet you can only visit the Land of the Druids once. When you leave, you can never return again. This place, this castle, everything you see and know here, this place of your dreams that you have seen for so many years, it will all be gone. Like a river that cannot be stepped in twice.”
“And you?” Thor asked, suddenly afraid.
His mother shook her head sweetly.
“You shall not see me again, either. Not like this. Yet I will always be with you.”
Thor was crestfallen at the thought.
“But I don’t understand,” Thor said. “I finally found you. I finally found this place, my home. And now you are telling me it is just for this once?”
His mother sighed.
“A warrior’s home is out in the world,” she said. “It is your duty to be out there, to assist others, to defend others—and to be become, always, a better warrior. You can always become better. Warriors are not meant to sit in one place—especially not a warrior with a great destiny such as yours. You will encounter great things in your life: great castles, great cities, great peoples. Yet you must not cling to anything. Life is a great tide, and you must allow it to take you where it will.”
Thor furrowed his brow, trying to understand. It was so much to take in at once.
“I always thought that, once I found you, my greatest quest would be finished.”
She smiled back at him.
“That is the nature of life,” she replied. “We are given great quests, or we choose them for ourselves, and we set out to achieve them. We never truly imagine we can achieve them—and yet, somehow, we do. Once we do, once one quest is complete, somehow we expect our lives to be over. But our lives are just beginning. Climbing one peak is a great accomplishment in itself—yet it also leads to another, greater, peak. Achieving one quest enables you to embark on another, greater, quest.”
Thor looked at her, surprised.
“That’s right,” she said, reading his mind. “Your finding me will lead you now to another—greater—quest.”
“What other quest can there be?” Thor asked. “What can be greater than finding you?”
She smiled back, her eyes filled with wisdom.
“You cannot even begin to imagine the quests that lay ahead of you,” she said. “Some people in life are born with just one quest. Some people, none. But you—Thorgrin—have been born with a destiny of twelve quests.”
“Twelve?” Thor repeated, flabbergasted.
She nodded.
“The Destiny Sword was one. You achieved that marvelously. Finding me was another. You have achieved two of them. You have ten more to go, ten quests even greater than those two.”
“Ten more?” he asked. “Greater? How is it possible?”
“Let me show you,” she said, as she came up beside him and draped an arm around him and led him gently down the corridor. She led him through a shining sapphire door, and into a room made entirely of sapphires, sparkling green.
Thor’s mother led him across the room to a huge, arched window made of crystal. Thor stood beside her and reached up and placed a palm on the crystal, sensing he needed to, and as he did, the two windowpanes gently opened.
Thor looked out at the ocean, a sweeping panorama from here, covered in a blinding haze and fog, a white light bouncing off of everything, making it seem as if they were perched atop heaven itself.
“Look out,” she said. “Tell me what you see.”
Thor looked out, and at first he saw nothing but ocean and white haze. Soon, though, the haze turned brighter, the ocean began to disappear, and images began to flash before him.
The first thing Thor saw was his son, Guwayne, out at sea, floating on a small boat.
Thor’s heart raced in panic.
“Guwayne,” he said. “Is it true?”
“Even now he is lost at sea,” she said. “He needs you. Finding him will be one of the great quests of your life.”
As Thor watched Guwayne floating away, he felt an urgency to leave this place at once, to race to the ocean.
“I must go to him—now!”
His mother laid a calming hand on his wrist.
“See what else you have to see,” she said.
Thor looked out and saw Gwendolyn and her people; they sat huddled on a rocky island and braced themselves as a wall of dragons descended from the sky, blanketing them. He saw a wall of flame, bodies on fire, people screaming in agony.
Thor’s heart pounded with urgency.
“Gwendolyn,” Thor cried. “I must go to her.”
His mother nodded.
“She needs you, Thorgrin. They all need you—and they also need a new home.”
As Thor continued to watch, he saw the landscape transform, and he saw the entire Ring devastated, a blackened landscape, Romulus’s million men covering every inch of it.
“The Ring,” he said, horrified. “It is no more.”
Thor felt a burning desire to race from here and rescue them all right now.
His mother reached out and closed the window panes, and he turned and faced her.
“Those are just some of the quests that lay before you,” she said. “Your child needs you, Gwendolyn needs you, your people need you—and beyond that, you will need to prepare for the day when you shall become King.”
Thor’s eyes opened wide.
“I? King?”
His mother nodded.
“It is your destiny, Thorgrin. You are the last hope. It is you who must become King of the Druids.”
“King of the Druids?” he asked, trying to comprehend. “But…I don’t understand. I thought I was in the Land of the Druids.”
“The Druids do not live here anymore,” his mother explained. “We are a nation in exile. They live now in a distant kingdom, in the far reaches of the Empire, and they are in great danger. You are destined to become their King. They need you, and you need them. Collectively, your power will be needed to battle the greatest power ever known to us. A threat far greater than the dragons.”
Thor stared back, wondering.
“I’m so confused, Mother,” he admitted.
“That is because your training is incomplete. You have advanced greatly, but you haven’t even begun to reach the levels you will need to become a great warrior. You will meet powerful new teachers who will guide you, who will bring you to levels higher than you can imagine. You haven’t even begun to see the warrior you will become.
“And you will need it, all of their training,” she continued. “You will face monstrous empires, kingdoms greater than anything you’ve ever seen. You will encounter savage tyrants that make Andronicus look like nothing.”
His mother examined him, her eyes full of knowing and compassion.
“Life is always bigger than you imagine, Thorgrin,” she continued. “Always bigger. The Ring, in your eyes, is a great kingdom, the center of the world. But it is a small kingdom compared to the rest of the world; it is but a speck in the Empire. There are worlds, Thorgrin, beyond what you can imagine, bigger than anything you’ve seen. You have not even begun to live.” She paused. “You will need this.”
Thor looked down as he felt something on his wrist, and he watched as his mother clasped a bracelet on it, several inches wide, covering half of his forearm. It was shining gold, with a single black diamond in its center. It was the most beautiful, and the most powerful, thing he’d ever seen, and as it sat on his wrist, he felt its power throbbing, infusing him.
“As long as you wear this,” she said, “no man born of woman can harm you.”
Thor looked back at her, and in his mind flashed the images he’d seen beyond those crystal windows, and he felt anew the urgency to Guwayne, to save Gwendolyn, to save his people.
But a part of him did not want to leave here, this place of his dreams to which he could never return, did not want to leave his mother.
He examined his bracelet, feeling the power of it overwhelming him. He felt as if it carried a piece of his mother.
“Is that why we were meant to meet?” Thor asked. “So that I could receive this?”
She nodded.
“And more importantly,” she said, “to receive my love. As a warrior, you must learn to hate. But equally important, you must learn to love. Love is the stronger of the two forces. Hatred can kill a man, but love can raise him up, and it takes more power to heal than it does to kill. You must know hate, but you must also know love—and you must know when to choose each. You must learn not only to love, but more importantly, to allow yourself to receive love. Just as we need meals, we need love. You must know how much I love you. How much I accept you. How proud of you I am. You must know that I am always with you. And you must know that we will meet again. In the meantime, allow my love to carry you through. And more importantly, allow yourself to love and accept yourself.”
Thor’s mother stepped forward and hugged him, and he hugged her back. It felt so good to hold her, to know he had a mother, a real mother, who existed in the world. As he held her, he felt himself filling up with love, and it made him feel sustained, born anew, ready to face anything.
Thor leaned back and looked into her eyes. They were his eyes, gray eyes, gleaming.
She lay both palms on his head, leaned forward, and kissed his forehead. Thor closed his eyes, and he never wanted the moment to end.
Thor suddenly felt a cool breeze on his arms, heard the sound of crashing waves, felt moist ocean air. He opened his eyes and looked about in surprise.
To his shock, his mother was gone. Her castle was gone. The cliff was gone. He looked all around, and he saw that he stood on a beach, the scarlet beach that lay at the entrance to the Land of the Druids. He had somehow exited the Land of the Druids. And he was all alone.
His mother had vanished.
Thor looked down at his wrist, at his new golden bracelet with the black diamond in its center, and he felt transformed. He felt his mother with him, felt her love, felt able to conquer the world. He felt stronger than he ever had. He felt ready to head into battle against any foe, to save his wife, his child.
Hearing a purring sound, Thor looked over and was elated to see Mycoples sitting not far away, slowly lifting her great wings. She purred and walked toward him, and Thor felt that Mycoples was ready, too.
As she approached, Thor looked down and was shocked to see something sitting on the beach, which had been hidden beneath her. It was white, large, and round. Thor looked closely and saw that it was an egg.
A dragon’s egg.
Mycoples looked to Thor, and Thor looked at her, shocked. Mycoples looked back at the egg sadly, as if not wanting to leave it but knowing that she had to. Thor stared at the egg in wonder, and he wondered what sort of dragon would emerge from Mycoples and Ralibar. He felt it would be the greatest dragon known to man.
Thor mounted Mycoples, and the two of them turned and took one long last look at the Land of the Druids, this mysterious place that had welcomed Thor in, and thrown him out. It was a place Thor was in awe of, a place he would never quite understand.
Thor turned and looked at the great ocean before them.
“It is time for war, my friend,” Thor commanded, his voice booming, confident, the voice of a man, of a warrior, of a King-to-be.
Mycoples screeched, raised her great wings, and lifted the two of them up into the sky, over the ocean, away from this world, heading back for Guwayne, for Gwendolyn, for Romulus, his dragons, and the battle of Thor’s life.