A Land of Fire

CHAPTER TWELVE

Thor opened his eyes slowly to the light sound of lapping waves, bobbing up and down, not sure where he was. He squinted at the daylight, and saw that he was lying on his stomach, bent over a plank of wood, floating in the middle of the ocean on a piece of debris. He was shivering, cold in these waters, and he looked up to see dawn breaking, and realized he had been floating here all night long.

Thor felt a light nipping on his arm, and he looked down and saw a fish and brushed it away. A light wave wet his hair, and he lifted his head, spit out the seawater and looked all around him. The sea was littered with debris as far as Thor could see, thousands of broken planks from Romulus’s fleet blanketing the ocean. He was floating right in the middle of it all, with no land in sight on any horizon.

Thor tried to remember. He closed his eyes and saw himself on Mycoples, diving down, fighting Romulus’s men. He remembered being underwater, pierced by arrows, then rising up; he remembered summoning the storm. And the last thing he remembered was the immense tidal wave coming down on them all. He remembered being caught in the wave, and about to crash hundreds of feet into the ocean below. He remembered the screams of all Romulus’s men.

And then all was blackness.

Thor opened his eyes fully and rubbed his head, his hair caked with salt; he had a tremendous headache, and as he looked around, he realized he was the only survivor, floating alone in the midst of an endless sea, surrounded by nothing but debris. He shook from the cold, and his body stung all over, littered with arrow wounds, and scratches from the dragons’ talons. He was injured so badly, he barely had the strength to lift his head.

He searched every direction, hoping for a sign of land, maybe Gwendolyn and her fleet—anything.

But there was nothing. Just vast, limitless ocean in every direction.

Thor’s heart sank as he lowered his head again, half submerged in the water, and lay there, bent over the plank. The small fish returned, nipping at his skin, brushing up against it, and this time Thor didn’t care. He was too weak to brush it away. He lay there, floating, realizing that Mycoples, whom he had loved more than he could say, was dead. Ralibar was dead. And Thor himself felt like he was dying. He was weaker than he had ever been, alone in an empty sea. He had survived the storm, had saved Gwendolyn and her people, had taken vengeance on the Empire, had destroyed the host of dragons, and for that he felt immense satisfaction.

Yet now that the great battle was over, here he was, injured, too weak to heal himself, with no land in sight, and no hope left. He had paid the ultimate price, and now his time had come.

More than anything, Thor ached to see Gwendolyn one last time before he died; he ached to see Guwayne. He could not imagine dying without laying eyes on their faces one more time.

Please, God, he thought. Give me one more chance. One more life. Allow me to live. Allow me to see Gwendolyn, to see my son again.

Thor lowered his head in the water as he felt more fish begin to nip, now at his feet and ankles and thighs; he felt his head submerged a bit lower in the cool water, the soft lapping of the waves the only sound left in the endless morning stillness. He felt so exhausted, so stiff, he knew he could not go on any further. He had served his purpose in life. He had served it well. And now his time had come.

Please, God, I turn to you, and to you alone. Answer me.

Suddenly, there came a tremendous stillness in the universe, so quiet, so intense, that Thor could hear himself breathe. That stillness terrified him more than anything he’d ever encountered in his life. He felt it was the sound of God.

The stillness was shattered by an immense splashing noise. Thor opened his eyes wide and looked up to see the ocean part. He saw an enormous whale, larger than any creature he seen his life, and different than any whale he’d ever seen. It was completely white, with horns on its head and all down its back, and huge glowing red eyes.

The beast shot out of the ocean, letting out a great screech, and opened its jaws, so big they blocked out the sun. It rose higher and higher, then came down, right for Thor, its mouth wide open. The world became dark as Thor felt the whale was about to swallow him.

Thor, too weak to resist, embraced his fate, as the immense jaws of darkness clamped down on him, swallowing him. He slid into the blackness of the whale’s mouth, and as he began to slide down its throat, its stomach, his final thought was: I never thought I would die like this.