“You disturb me
from the depths,” he boomed, his voice as deep and loud as a hundred men, shaking
the world as he spoke.
He turned to
Argon, and his scowl deepened.
“You have come
back to your master. But you are no longer welcome here.”
Argon flushed.
“Forgive me, my
master,” he replied, and for the first time in her life, Gwen saw Argon kneel
and lower his head. Gwendolyn followed his lead, kneeling and bowing her head,
too.
Gwen heard its
distinctive growling noise, saw the Paragon open his mouth and snarl, and for a
moment, she felt they would be killed.
But then he
seemed to pause, to reconsider.
“Rise,” he said.
They rose, and
as Gwen looked up at him, he seemed irate. He stood tall and looked down at
Gwendolyn with such intensity that it nearly seared her eyes.
“Why have you
come to me?” he asked Gwendolyn, his voice reverberating.
“I must find my
husband,” Gwen replied. “And my son.”
The Paragon
stood there for a long time, making a sound like a growling from deep within
his chest, and she wondered if he would ever respond.
“Your son is
lost,” he said, “in the arms of the Blood Lord.”
Gwendolyn felt
like a knife had been plunged into her heart at his words, as she felt the
certainty of them. She felt a horrific sense of loss and mourning.
“There must be a
way to get him back!” she pleaded. “Please. I would give anything! Even my very
own soul.”
The Paragon
paused for a long time, looking back and forth from Argon to her.
“There is always
a way,” he said. “After all, the world is a creation. And creation is not
static.”
Gwen pondered
his words, feeling a sense of hope.
“What does that
mean?” she asked, desperate.
But the Paragon
turned to Argon, ignoring her.
“The end of days
has arrived,” he said to Argon. “Your time on this earth is nearly at an end.
It was I who brought you forth, and I who must take you back. You knew this
already to be true—which is why you did not want to see me.”
Argon stared
back, fear in his eyes.
“Do not worry,”
the Paragon continued. “I shall not take you now. But soon. Very, very soon.
Choose your death carefully.”
Argon nodded and
looked down, humbled, and the Paragon turned back to Gwendolyn.
“You made a vow,
did you not?” he asked her.
Gwen stared
back, confused.
“A vow to the
King of the Ridge. You vowed to save his people. Whatever the cost. To lead
them out of the Ridge if his Kingdom was destroyed.”
Gwendolyn nodded.
“I did,” she
said.
“The time has
come. The King is dead, killed by his own son.”
Gwendolyn
gasped, horrified to hear it had been his son.
“The Ridge as
you know it,” the Paragon added, “will be no more. As we speak it is being
invaded by hordes the likes of which the world has never seen.”
He paused,
leaning in close.
“You, Gwendolyn,
are the last hope. You can save this people, lead them on their exodus. You
think your destiny was the exodus of the Ring—but that was just a warm-up. Your
true destiny is the exodus of the Ridge. You have not fulfilled your mission in
life—you have not even begun it.”
Gwen stared
back, trying to understand.
“But where can I
lead those people?” she asked. “The Ridge is surrounded by nothingness. I would
only lead them through the Great Waste, to their deaths. And who am I to lead
such a great nation?”
The Paragon
leaned back his neck, twisted and turned and curved it upside down before
turning back to her. Gwen did not understand this creature at all, and she felt
terrific fear in his presence, a fear and dread she could not understand.
“Or,” the
Paragon continued, “you can choose not to save the Ridge. You can ride your
dragon across the sea, all the way to Thorgrin. You can find him and be with
him forever. The choice is yours.”
Gwendolyn
thought. Her heart leapt at the thought of seeing Thorgrin again, so easily
within reach. But she considered her vow, and realized she could not break it.
“I made a vow,”
she said. “It was a sacred vow. That means more than my life. More, even, than
Thorgrin.”
The Paragon
nodded back in approval.
“Good,” he said.
“That is what sets you apart. You are Queen because of merit, because your
choices merit you to be one. That is why you shall lead this people.”
“But I still
don’t understand,” Gwen said. “Where can I lead them?”
The Paragon
paused.
“Don’t you
know?” he asked. “It is the answer that has been sitting before you for all
time.”
She stared back
blankly.
Then, suddenly,
an image flashed in her mind. She was flabbergasted.
“The
Ring
!?”
she asked, breathless.
It nodded back.
Gwen’s mind
raced with wonder.
“But how?” she
asked. “The Ring is destroyed. And it lies across the sea, halfway around the
world.”
“And what of the
Shield?” Argon chimed in, he, too, sounding surprised. “It, too, is no more.”
“Without the
Shield,” Gwen added, “we could not hold back the hordes of the Empire.”
The Paragon
leaned back and laughed.
“It is even
worse than that, I’m afraid,” he said. “The millions of Empire soldiers waiting
to attack you are the least of your dangers. There is a far greater force than
them set on your destruction.”
Gwendolyn
waited, feeling a sense of dread.
“The dark ones,”
he said. “Led by the Blood Lord. By the creature that has your son. The great
army is rising. An army greater even than the Empire has ever known. They are
an unstoppable force.”
“Then it is
hopeless,” Gwen said, resorting to fear. “We are all doomed to die.”
“I took you to
have more hope than that,” the Paragon said, disapproving. “There is always
hope.”
“But how?” Gwen
asked. “How can we return to the Ring with no Shield?”
The Paragon
turned back to Argon.
“You were my
greatest student,” he said. “You know the answer. It lies deep within you. It
has always been just beyond your grasp, always been the secret just out of your
reach. It is the one thing that has been gnawing at you, the one secret I
withheld from you for all these centuries. The one thing you could not be
allowed to know until the time was right. But now, the time has come.”
Argon stared
back with trepidation and wonder.
“What is it, my
master?” he asked. “What is the secret that I have yet to learn?”
The Paragon
paused for a long time, its arms flailing like snakes, turning his neck this
way and that—until finally he stopped and became very still. He stared at
Argon.
“The Sorcerer’s
Ring,” he said. “You have never fully understood what it means. You have always
taken it only for the Shield. But the Sorcerer’s Ring, my student, has two
meanings. Yes, it is the Ring, the Shield about the Canyon. But there is another
meaning. Another ring.”
Argon squinted
in wonder as the Paragon leaned forward and stared into his eyes.
“Another ring?”
Argon asked.
The Paragon
nodded.
“An actual
ring,” he said.
Gwen and Argon
both gasped, blown away by the revelation.
“The Sorcerer’s
Ring is also an object. A magical ring, formed at the dawn of time. It is the
only thing that can stop the Blood Lord, the only thing which can restore the
Shield for all time, restore the Ring, restore the Kingdom you once had. This
Ring is your only hope for salvation.”
“And where can
we find such a ring?” Gwendolyn asked. “I will go anywhere. Do anything.”
The Paragon
shook his head.
“It lies in the
Land of the Ring,” he said, “but is not for you to find. It is a quest which
only one person in the world can take. It is a Ring which only one person in
the world can wear.”
Gwendolyn’s eyes
lit up with understanding.
“Thorgrin,” she
said.
The Paragon
nodded.
“And how shall
he know where it is?” she asked.
“He will know,”
he answered. “Deep inside, he will know.”
Gwendolyn
suddenly had another realization.
“The dragon,”
she said, piecing it all together. “She came so that I can send her back across
the sea, to Thorgrin. So that I could deliver this message, tell Thorgrin of
the Ring.”
The Paragon
nodded.
“But if I do
so,” Gwendolyn continued, “then I will have to let go of the dragon. Once it
returns me to the Ridge, I will have no dragon to help me. I will have to lead
the people out on foot.”
The Paragon fell
silent, and finally Gwendolyn understood. It all made sense: there was a
supreme test ahead for her, and for Thorgrin. Two sides of the same coin, both
needed to restore the Ring.
“And my son?”
she asked.
“The Ring is the
only thing that can save him now,” the Paragon replied. “If Thorgrin fails to
find it—and most likely he will fail—all of you will be nothing.”
The Paragon
suddenly lifted his arms up to the sky, let out a shriek which split the earth,
then just as quickly sank back down beneath the waters, the water bubbling and
hissing all about him, leaving nothing but smoke and mist.
Gwendolyn and
Argon stared at each other, each realizing that before them lay their greatest
trials yet.
Kendrick
galloped through the Great Waste, alongside Brandt, Atme, Koldo, Ludvig—and now
Kaden—the six of them charging back, after their confrontation with the Sand
Walkers, back toward the safety of the Ridge. Kendrick was elated, as were the
others, all of them so relieved they had found Kaden in time, and were bringing
him home unscathed. They had been riding hard all day and all night ever since
retrieving him, and Kendrick felt the urgency, as did the others, to make it
back to the Ridge.
Finally, after
hours of monotony, the landscape began to change, and Kendrick, to his relief,
saw the Sand Wall looming on the horizon, and he knew the Ridge wouldn’t be far
behind it.
“I still don’t
see them,” Ludvig called out.
Kendrick peered
into the horizon and he, too, saw no sign of Naten and the others; he was
surprised. Those knights of the Ridge had vowed to come back for them, with
horses. Kendrick knew the knights of the Ridge to be honorable, and he
suspected Naten was behind it. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted Kendrick to return, and
he knew that if hadn’t come for them, they likely would not. But little did he
know that they had found their own horses, had found their own way back. He
suspected they would have hell to pay when they returned.
As they rode,
Kendrick noticed the expressions on Koldo’s and Ludvig’s faces, and it seemed
that they were more hurt by the betrayal of their people than Kendrick.
“Then they did
not come for us,” Koldo replied, disappointment in his voice.
Ludvig snorted.
“Should we be
surprised?” he replied. “Naten talks big, and he threatens others. But when it
comes down to it, he is a coward.”
“When we get
back, he shall be disciplined,” Koldo replied. “He left us out there to die,
and justice shall be done.”
Koldo turned to
Kendrick.
“You were
gracious to put up with him,” he said. “I am sorry he gave you such a hard
time. We owe you for joining us on this mission, a mission that was not even
yours. We cannot thank you enough.”
Kendrick nodded
back, his respect and admiration for Koldo and Ludvig mutual.
“Not all members
of a court hold to the same values,” he replied. “The same holds true in the
Ring. It was an honor to join you on this mission. After all, what makes a
brother is equal honor, courage—and you two are my brothers today.”
They rode and
rode, and the sound grew deafening as they approached the Sand Wall, Kendrick
squinting as the sand began to hit him even from here. Kendrick covered himself
in the wrap that Koldo had given them, wrapping himself again and again, until
finally, as they entered it, he wrapped his face, too. He remembered, from
having ridden through it once, how rough this Sand Wall could be, and he was
not looking forward to entering it again.
The noise hit a
fever pitch, drowning out all else, as Kendrick suddenly found himself immersed
in a wall of sand, a stationary tornado. Sand scraped him from every possible
angle. It was almost impossible to see, and Kendrick gasped for breath, the air
and sand so intense as he galloped through with the others. He did not feel as
if it would ever end.
Kendrick finally
burst out the other side, along with the others, charging back out into the
open sky, the open desert, and he gasped with relief. The blinding sunlight
bore down on him, and he didn’t care—he was just happy to be out in the open
again. And as he looked to his sides, he saw the others unwrapping, too, and
could see the joy and relief on their faces, all of them, and their horses,
scratched up, but still alive.
But Kendrick
also noted the startled expressions on their faces as they stared straight
ahead, and he turned himself, looking back ahead, wondering what they were
seeing.
As he did,
Kendrick’s mouth fell open in shock. There, up ahead, were the peaks of the
ridge, sitting on the horizon—and at first he was relieved to see them. But
before them, between their group and home, was a sight that filled him with
dread, a sight that he had never expected to see in his lifetime. It was a
sight which made them all come to an abrupt stop on their horses.
They all sat
there, breathing hard, staring, speechless.
“It is not
possible,” said Koldo.
Kendrick was
thinking the same thing. Because there, before them, was the largest army he
had ever seen, millions of soldiers, wearing glistening black armor, spreading
out in every direction, their backs to Kendrick. They were all, Kendrick cold
see, preparing to invade the Ridge from every side. They swarmed like ants in a
massive circle, closing in on the peaks.
Kendrick heard a
noise, and he turned and saw bursting through the Sand Wall, thousands more of
these soldiers, more pouring in every second. They flew distinctive banners,
and he struggled to understand who they were, who could be mobilizing to attack
the ridge.
“The Knights of
the Seven,” announced Koldo, his voice grave.
“They bear all
the weight of the Empire armies,” Ludvig said, dismay in his voice. “If they
have discovered the Ridge, we’re finished.”
Kendrick sat
there, his heart pounding, realizing they were right.
Kendrick also
realized that they were in an unusual position now, being able to witness this
from behind, their presence still undetected from the Empire. They could not,
of course, whatever the odds, turn around and leave, not with their brothers
inside, not with Gwendolyn there.
They all
exchanged looks, and silently they were all thinking the same thing. They would
have to find a way to attack.
“We must find a
way back in,” Koldo said, “and help them defend. Even if it means our lives.”
“Our brothers
will all die in there,” Kendrick said. “And we shall die defending them.”
“And how shall
we get in?” Brandt asked. “They have the Ridge surrounded.”
Kendrick saw
Koldo and Ludvig scrutinizing the landscape, the contours of the Ridge, and
they then exchanged a knowing look.
“Behind that
rock formation, far from the ranks of the soldiers,” Koldo said, pointing,
“there lies a tunnel, concealed. It leads underneath the Ridge. It was built
for times like this. We can reach it undetected. Let us go quickly and join our
brothers, before the soldiers detect us.”
Koldo kicked his
horse and they all joined him, racing under the desert sky, for the Ridge, for
their brothers, for the greatest battle of their lives—for valor.