A Reign of Steel. Morgan Rice
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They would not listen to her. Even her own brother did not believe her.
And it broke her heart.
Gwendolyn stood alone on the upper parapets of her castle, holding Guwayne tight and looking out at the sunset, the two suns hanging low in the sky. Down below, she heard the muted shouts and celebrations of her people, all preparing for a huge night of celebration. Out there, she saw the rolling vistas of the lands surrounding King’s Court, a kingdom at its peak. Everywhere was the bounty of summer, endless fields of green, orchards, a lush land rich with bounty. The land was content, rebuilt after so much tragedy, and she saw a world at peace with itself.
Gwendolyn furrowed her brow, wondering how any sort of darkness could ever reach here. Maybe the darkness she had imagined had already come in the form of the McClouds. Maybe it had already been averted, thanks to Kendrick and the others. Maybe Kendrick had been right. Maybe she had grown too cautious since she had become Queen, had seen too much tragedy. Maybe she was, like Kendrick said, looking too deeply into things.
After all, to evacuate her people from their homes, to lead them across the Canyon, onto ships, to the volatile Upper Isles, was a drastic move, a move reserved for a time of the greatest calamity. What if she did so, and no tragedy ever befell the Ring? She’d be known as the Queen who panicked with no danger in sight.
Gwendolyn sighed, clutching Guwayne as he squirmed in her arms, and wondered if she were losing her mind. She looked up and searched the skies for any sign of Thorgrin, hoping, praying. At least, she hoped for any sign of Ralibar, wherever he was. But he, too, had not returned.
Gwen watched an empty sky, once again disappointed. Once again, she would have to rely on herself. Even her people, who had always supported her, who had looked to her as a god, now seemed to distrust her. Her father had never prepared her for this. Without the support of her people, what sort of Queen would she be? Powerless.
Gwen desperately wanted to turn to someone for comfort, for answers. But Thorgrin was gone; her mother was gone; seemingly everyone she knew and loved was gone. She felt at a crossroads, and had never felt more confused.
Gwen closed her eyes and called upon God to help her. She tried with all her will to summon him. She had never been one to pray much, but her faith was strong, and she felt certain that he existed.
Please, God. I am so confused. Show me how to best protect my people. Show me how to best protect Guwayne. Show me how to be a great ruler.
“Prayers are a powerful thing,” came a voice.
Gwen spun at once, instantly relieved to hear that voice. Standing there, several feet away, was Argon. He was clothed in his white cloak and hood, holding his staff, looking out at the horizon instead of her.
“Argon, I need answers. Please. Help me.”
“We are always in need of answers,” he replied. “And yet they do not always come. Our lives are meant to be lived out. The future cannot always be told for us.”
“But it can be hinted at,” Gwendolyn said. “All the prophecies I’ve read, all the scrolls, the history of the Ring – still point to a great darkness that is coming. You must tell me. Will it occur?”
Argon turned and stared at her, his eyes filled with fire, darker and scarier than she’d ever seen them.
“Yes,” he replied.
The definiteness of his answer scared her more than anything. He, Argon, who always spoke in riddles.
Gwen shivered inside.
“Will it come here, to King’s Court?”
“Yes,” he replied.
Gwen felt her sense of dread deepening. She also felt secure in her conviction that she had been right all along.
“Will the Ring will be destroyed?” she asked.
Argon looked to her, and nodded slowly.
“There are but a few things left that I can tell you,” he said. “If you choose, this can be one of them.”
Gwen thought long and hard. She knew Argon’s wisdom was precious. Yet this was something she really needed to know.
“Tell me,” she said.
Argon took a deep breath as he turned and surveyed the horizon for what felt like forever.
“The Ring will be destroyed. Everything you know and love will be wiped away. The place you now stand will be nothing but flaming embers and ashes. All of the Ring will be ashes. Your nation will be gone. A darkness is coming. A darkness greater than any darkness in our history.”
Gwendolyn felt the truth of his words reverberate inside her, felt the deep timbre of his voice resonate to her very core. She knew that every word he spoke was true.
“My people do not see this,” she said, her voice shaking.
Argon shrugged.
“You are Queen. Sometimes force must be used. Not only against one’s enemies. But even against one’s people. Do what you know. Do not always seek your people’s approval. Approval is an elusive thing. Sometimes, when your people hate you the most, that is a sign that you are doing the best thing for them. Your father was blessed with a reign of peace. But you, Gwendolyn, you will have a far greater test: you will have a reign of steel.”
As Argon turned to walk away, Gwendolyn stepped forward and reached out for him.
“Argon,” she called.
He stopped, but did not turn around.
“Just tell me one more thing. I beg you. Will I ever see Thorgrin again?”
He paused, a long, heavy silence. In that grim silence, she felt her heart breaking in two, hoping and praying that he would give her just one more answer.
“Yes,” he replied.
She stood there, her heart pounding, craving more.
“Can you tell me nothing more?”
He turned and looked at her, sadness in his eyes.
“Remember the choice you made. Not every love is meant to last forever.”
High above, Gwen heard a falcon screech, and she looked to the sky, wondering.
She turned to look back at Argon, but he was already gone.
She clutched Guwayne tight and looked out at her kingdom, taking one long last look, wanting to remember it like this, when it was still vibrant, alive. Before it all turned to ash. She wondered with dread what danger so great could be lurking beyond that veneer of beauty. She shuddered, as she knew, without a doubt, that it would find them all very soon.
Chapter Seven
Stara yelled as she plummeted through the air, flailing, Reece beside her, Matus and Srog beside him, the four of them falling from the castle wall in the blinding wind and rain, plunging toward the ground. She braced herself as she saw the large bushes come up at her quickly, and she realized the only reason she might survive this fall was because of them.
A moment later, Stara felt as if every bone in her body was breaking as she smashed into the bush – which barely broke her fall – and continued on until she hit the ground. She felt the wind knocked out of her, and was sure she bruised a rib. Yet at the same time, she sank several inches and realized the ground was softer, muddier than she thought, and cushioned her fall.
The others hit, too, beside her, and all of them began to tumble as the mud gave way. Stara hadn’t anticipated they would land on a steep slope, and before she could stop herself, she was sliding with the others, rushing downhill, all of them caught up in a mudslide.
They rolled and slid, and soon the gushing waters carried them, sliding down the mountain at full speed. As she slid, Stara looked back over her shoulder and saw her father’s castle quickly fading from view, and realized that at least it was taking them away, far from their attackers.
Stara looked back down and dodged as she narrowly avoided rocks in her path, going