Alistair stood on the roof of the small fort, running her hand along the ancient stone parapets as she looked out over the countryside of the Ring on this brilliant, beautiful summer day. From up here, surrounded by nothing but rolling hills, she looked out and saw fields of tall lime-green and violet grass, swaying in the wind, shining in the sun, rustling, as if happy to be alive. The weather was perfect, the two suns shining, and Alistair leaned back and breathed deep, and took it all in.
For once, Alistair felt relaxed, content, at home in the world. Finally, she had love in her life, had met a man who loved her, and had also met her brother. Soon, she would marry. And Argon was helping her understand who she truly was. For the first time in her life, Alistair was beginning to feel that she was not some sort of freak, not an outcast. She was starting to understand that what was different about her was what made her special. That her powers were a normal, natural part of her. A part of her she did not have to be ashamed to claim. She felt empowered, especially after her trip to the Netherworld, after their battle against the Empire, and seeing just how powerful she was.
Ever since Thor had killed her father, Alistair had felt an immense sense of peace in the world. She felt relieved that everyone, especially Erec, knew her secret, knew that her father was a monster. She’d been so afraid that if he discovered it, he would leave her. And she would not blame him. But Erec had remained loyally at her side. Never once had he blamed her, or looked at her differently; on the contrary, his compassion for her had only deepened, and she could feel that he didn’t see her any differently. After all, he had insisted, we are not our parents. For the first time in her life, she was beginning to realize that.
Alistair had taken a break from all the wedding preparations to ride down here and visit Erec, a half-day’s ride from King’s Court, as he was immersed in the work of the Silver, rebuilding and re-arming fortifications, as he had been for moons. Alistair looked out over the parapets and saw below dozens of members of the Silver, their armor shining in the morning suns, and Erec in the middle of them, as he always was, directing the men as they were hard at work on rebuilding fortifcations. Other knights charged on their horses in their impromptu training grounds, engaged in exercises, sparring, keeping their skills sharp.
Alistair looked out and saw four major roads passing through this small town, saw how strategically situated it was, here the middle of the country, and knew that Erec had an important job to do here, to keep all these villagers secure. Erec had been carefully stationing his men at different points all throughout the countryside, helping to mend roads, to raise gates, to deepen moats, and to quarry the stone they needed to repair the damage that Andronicus had done. It was amazing that anything was left of this fort at all. In many of the other towns throughout the Ring, forts which had stood for centuries were completely wiped out, unsalvageable.
Alistair heard a distant rumble. She looked up at the horizon and saw a lone rider charging for the tower, kicking up dirt on the dusty road. She watched as he rode right up to Erec, knelt before him, and handed him a scroll. She wondered what it could be that would make him ride with such haste?
Erec stood very still for a long time, reading. Finally, he turned and walked toward the fort. He looked lost in thought, his brow furrowed, and whatever it was, Alistair sensed from his body language that it was not good.
Alistair heard a muted shuffling of feet coming up the spiral stone staircase, then Erec appeared on the roof of the fort, holding the scroll, looking grim.
“What is it, my lord?” Alistair asked, rushing over to him.
Erec looked down and shook his head. She could see his eyes well with tears.
“My father,” he said, grimly. “He’s gravely ill.”
Alistair felt overwhelmed with compassion for Erec, and she leaned in and hugged him, and he hugged her back. He had never spoken to her of his father, or of his people, and she did not know much about them. All she knew was that Erec hailed from the Southern Isles.
“What will you do?” she asked.
Erec stared out at the horizon, thinking.
“I must go to him,” he said. “I must see him before he dies.”
Alistair’s eyes widened.
“To the Southern Isles?” she asked.
He nodded, earnest.
“It is a long voyage, my lady,” he said. “Harsh and unforgiving. I will have to cross the Southern Sea, which takes more lives than it lets pass. It will be safer for you to stay here. I shall return to you.”
Alistair felt a rush of determination, and she shook her head.
“I will never be apart from you again,” she said. “I vowed to myself. And I intend to keep it. Whatever the price. I will join you.”
Erec looked back, seeing her determination, touched.
“But Gwendolyn’s wedding,” he answered. “You are her maid of honor.”
Alistair sighed.
“If you must go now,” she replied, “then I must go with you. Gwendolyn will understand.”
Erec embraced her, and she embraced him back. She held him tight, and wondered. What would their voyage be like? What were the Southern Isles like? What was his family like? Would they like her? Accept her? Would he make it to see his father before he died?
And most of all, how would this affect their wedding? Would it delay it?
Would Gwen really understand? Would Thor? Would she ever see her brother again? Would they really return to the Ring?
For some reason, she had a sinking feeling that they would not.
Alistair rode through King’s Court, having just said goodbye to Gwendolyn, and her heart was still breaking. It had been painful to break the news, even though Gwen had received it well. She felt terrible telling Gwen, especially at this time, right before her wedding. But the way she saw it, she had no choice. Erec would be her husband, and she could not stand to be separated from him again. Gwen had been understanding, stoic, and had made it easy on Alistair. But Alistair sensed, deep down, that Gwen was hurt, that she would have wanted her there at her wedding. Alistair wished things could be different; but this was the hand life had dealt her.
As Alistair rode out of court, she was determined, before riding back to Erec, to see her brother one last time, to break the news to him, too, that she was leaving. She braced herself. When all this was over, Alistair vowed silently to return, to find a way to come back to the Ring, to be with Gwendolyn and Thor, and all of her people, again. After all, she and Gwendolyn had been through so much in the Netherworld together, and Gwen felt like a true sister to her, like the sister she’d never had. Alistair also felt protective of Gwen. She felt attached to her, especially since hearing the news of her new child.
Alistair could hardly believe that she had a nephew. When she’d held him, she had felt his energy course through her, and had felt a greater connection to the child than any she had ever known. Her brother’s son. It was hard to imagine. As she held him, she knew without a doubt that the two of them would have a close relationship their entire lives.
Alistair rode through the newly rebuilt stone gates leading to the Legion training ground, past all the new recruits lining up on the field, all hoping to catch her brother’s attention for a spot in the coveted Legion. She spotted her brother, and rode across the courtyard and dismounted before him.
Thor must have sensed her coming, because before she even got close to him, he turned and met her gaze, his light gray eyes alight in the morning sun, standing there so noble and proud, all the hopeful warriors of the Legion looking to him. Her brother was clearly a leader, and all these boys, some older than he, looked up to him as if he were a god. She could understand why. Not only was he a skilled warrior, but he also exuded an energy, something mystical, almost like a light shining around him. It was hard to put her finger on exactly what it was about him. It was almost as if she were looking at the stuff of legend, while he was still alive. There was also a fleeting air to him, as if somehow, he, burning so bright, might not live very long, like a shooting star racing across the sky. She flinched at the thought, and tried to suppress it.
But as Alistair walked up to him, she suddenly choked up. She had a flash, saw something she could not suppress. It was a vision: she saw her brother dead. At a young age. She saw death—and glory—all around him.
Alistair stopped before Thor, about to hug him, and her smile morphed to a frown, as she barely stopped herself from crying. They had become close these past moons, and Thor was the only real family she had, and the idea of losing him now, after she had just met him, was too much for her to bear.
“What is it, my sister?” Thor asked, looking at her, puzzled.
Alistair merely shook her head, biting her tongue. Instead, she leaned in and hugged him, and he hugged her back. Over his shoulder, she quickly wiped away tears and forced herself to smile.
She pulled back.
“Nothing, my brother,” she said.
He watched her, skeptical, concerned.
“Yet you seem disturbed,” he said.
“I have come to say goodbye,” she replied.
Thor looked at her, surprise and disappointment in his face.
“Erec departs for the Southern Isles,” she said, “and I must join him. I am sorry. I will not be here to see you wed.”
Thor nodded, understanding.
“At Erec’s side is where you should be,” he said. “He is the greatest warrior of our Ring—and yet, he needs you. You are even greater. Protect him.”
“As are you,” she said back.
Thor flushed with embarrassment.
“I am but a boy from a small farming village,” Thor replied humbly.
Alistair shook her head.
“You are far, far more than that.”
Thor sighed and looked off into the distance, watching his recruits train.
“I will be departing myself, soon,” he said.
Alistair suddenly gained an insight into his mind, as she often did when she was around him.
“You will go to seek out our mother,” she said, more of a statement than a question.
Thor looked at her, surprised.
“How did you know?” he asked.
She shrugged.
“You are an open book around me,” she said. “I don’t know why. It is as if I can see what you see.”
“What else do you see?” Thor asked, excited, narrowing his eyes. “Will I find our mother?”
Alistair had a sudden flash of Thor’s future. She saw that he would indeed find her. But then the vision was obscured by darkness, as if it were being deliberately masked by the fates. She saw Thor in a great battle, one beyond even his powers. She saw darkness all around them, and she quickly closed her eyes and shook her head, wanting to quash the vision. It was too dark, too terrifying.
She didn’t want to scare Thor, and she forced herself to remain composed. She shuddered inside, but did not let him show it.
“You will find her,” she replied.
Thor looked at her, unconvinced.
“And yet…you hesitate,” he said.
Alistair shook her head and looked away.
“Last time we spoke of Mother,” she said, “I was beginning to tell you that I have something of hers. It is fitting that you have it. I do not know if I shall ever see her.”
Alistair reached into her pocket and extracted an object.
“Hold out your wrist,” she said.
Thor did so, and he looked down as Alistair held out a golden wrist bracelet, six inches wide, and clasped it around his wrist. It covered Thor’s wrist, halfway up his forearm, shining, shifting colors in the light.
Thor examined it in wonder. She could tell he was awestruck.
“The Land of the Druids is a fearful place,” she said. “A place of great power. But also of great danger. You will need this more than I.”
“What is it?” he asked, running a finger along its smooth golden surface.
She shrugged.
“It is the only thing that Mother left me. I do not know what it is, or what it does. But I know that you will need it where you’re going.”
Thor leaned in and, clearly grateful, embraced Alistair tight; she embraced him back.
“Be safe,” Thor said.
“Send Mother my love,” she said. “Tell her I love her. And one day, I hope to meet her, too.”