An Oath of Brothers

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Thor stood at the bow of the small sailing vessel as they sailed away from Ragon’s isle in the breaking dawn and toward the horizon, the direction in which his dream compelled him to go, the direction in which he felt certain Guwayne was awaiting him. The dream had felt so real, it had felt as if he had truly experienced it. He felt with certainly that Guwayne lay just up ahead, that he needed him urgently. Thor stood at the edge peered into the mist, anxious for it to lift, to reveal the location his son; he watched the currents, and willed them to carry his boat faster.

Your child awaits you on the island.

The voice from Thor’s dream echoed in his head, again and again; Thor looked out and squeezed the rail, giddy with anticipation. He could hardly wait to hold Guwayne again; he felt terrible for letting him go, and this time he would let nothing stand in his way until he found his boy.

“Are you certain we sail in the right direction?” Matus asked skeptically, coming up beside him.

Thor tuned and saw all the others—Reece, Selese, Elden, Indra, O’Connor—all standing there, dressed in their new armor, wielding their new weapons, shining in the light—and all looking back at him skeptically.

“This is the direction in which my dream has led me,” he replied.

“And if your dream is wrong?” O’Connor asked.

Thor shook his head.

“It can’t be,” he said. “You don’t understand. It was more than a dream: it was a vision. I saw it. I saw my boy.”

Reece sighed.

“We were all comfortable on Ragon’s isle,” he said. “We had provision, shelter—we finally had a break from our travails. We left so abruptly.”

“And it seemed Ragon was about to reveal to us another surprise—perhaps more weapons, or something else important,” Elden chimed in.

Thor could see the disappointment in their eyes, and he considered their words; he, too, had felt a strong connection with Ragon, had felt the great power of the man, and had been comfortable on that isle. His island had truly been a magical place, an idyllic place, and he, too, had wanted to spend more time there.

He reflected, furrowing his brow, and could not quite understand why he had left so quickly. Were they all right? Had he been wrong to leave? Thor felt confused.

Yet the vision of that dream would not leave his mind, as if it were right in front of him, pulling him away from the isle and toward the horizon.

“I can’t quite explain it,” Thorgrin said. “It was unlike any dream I’d ever had. It was like a command. It showed me Guwayne in danger, urgently needing me. I just could not allow myself to sit there for one more second.”

Selese sighed.

“I have been a healer all my life,” Selese chimed in, her voice soft and sweet, yet demanding attention. “I know most everything about the human body. Yet I know little about dreams. I don’t know from where they come, or whether they come to help or confuse us. I don’t know if they come from inside us or from someplace else.”

The boat fell silent, and Thor contemplated her words. Could his dream have been sent to confuse him? To trick him? But why? And how?

“I don’t think anyone knows that, my lady,” O’Connor said. “And anyone who professes to know is a liar.”

“One thing I do know,” Reece chimed in. “We’re getting awfully close to the Dragon’s Spine—and that’s one place we do not want to be.”

O’Connor turned and pointed off into the horizon, and they all turned and followed his gaze. In the distant horizon, partially obscured by the mist, were a pair of sharp cliffs, jagged, like a spine, rising hundreds of feet into the air, with perhaps a few hundred yards between them. Treacherous rocks stretched out alongside them, forcing all ships to sail in the narrow waterway between them.

“What do you know of it?” Thor asked.

“It is a place of legend,” Reece added, his voice filled with awe. “Growing up I was drilled on it. The most dangerous spot in the Southern Seas. A place of awful storms, beasts—a place few pass through alive.”

“Up ahead we have the fork,” Elden said. “See the currents? If we wish to avoid it, now is our chance.”

Thor stood there, hands on his hips, staring at the ocean, wondering. Reece came up beside him.

“Which way, old friend?” he asked. “Do we fork north, for an empty ocean, or south, for the Dragon’s Spine? We will follow you any way you choose.”

Thor closed his eyes and tried to tune in, to allow his senses to guide him. He stood there, quiet, listening to the wind, the lapping of the waves against the boat, then suddenly felt a sense of certainty.

“We fork north, my brother,” Thor said, turning to Reece. “Away from the Spine.”

Reece looked much relieved, as did all the others.

They all broke into action, immediately adjusting the sails, grabbing the oars, Thor helping them. Thor grabbed an oar and rowed with the others, pulling them through heavy waves, their boat lifting lower and higher, spray splashing him in the face.

Finally, they finished rowing over the conflicting currents of the fork, and the new current grabbed their boat and pulled them in a new direction. They began to relax on the oars, and let the sails do the work.

There suddenly came a great shriek, from high up in the sky, and Thor looked up and his heart lifted to see Lycoples, circling high. Lycoples flapped his wings furiously, circling low, as if trying to signal something to Thorgrin. He dove down, right by Thorgrin’s face, forcing him and the others to duck, and Thor was wondering what he was trying to tell him.

Lycoples kept circling back toward the island from where he’d come, almost as if he were trying to urge them all to turn back around to Ragon’s isle.

“What do you think he’s trying to tell us?” Indra asked.

“It looks like he wants us to turn back,” Elden replied.

“But why?” Matus asked.

Thor studied the skies, unsure. After many attempts, Lycoples finally gave up, turned, and flew back to where he came.

Thor looked to the skies, puzzled, as he had always been, by the way of dragons. Why would Lycoples want them to turn back around, when Guwayne lay somewhere on the seas ahead?

Hour after hour passed, all of them falling into silence, embraced by the mist. Thor found himself lost in his thoughts, as he thought of Gwendolyn, of what she must be going through. His heart broke for her, and it anguished him that he could not be by her side.

He also found himself thinking of Lycoples, of his son up ahead, and he was filled with a renewed sense of hope. Thor craned his neck and scanned the skies, and wondered: would he ever see Gwendolyn again? He could picture himself returning to her with her son, with a new dragon, starting life all over again. Was it too late? he wondered with a sense of dread. Was she even still alive?

Thor began to hear a faint sound, one that pulled him from his reverie. It was a sound of waves splashing on rocks, against a distant shore. He was certain of it.

Thor looked over and saw the others, too, standing, staring into the mist. They must have heard it, too. They all looked at each other with a questioning look, their eyes all holding the same question: land?

As Thor peered into the mist, slowly, a wind arose, and it began to lift, revealing what lay beyond. The sound of the waves crashing against rocks grew louder, and as Thor looked out, he was surprised to see an unusual island coming into view.

This small island was bordered by a white beach, the brightest white Thor had ever seen, and all the rocks around it—everything—was white. Its trees were all white, too, a dense jungle that stretched nearly all the way to the shoreline, all glowing white. Even the ocean water, as they came closer to the isle, turned entirely white.

Above the isle flew scores of white birds, squawking, circling, unusual birds that Thor did not recognize, of every shape and size.

Selese stepped forward before Thor, and looked out and gasped.

“The Isle of the Lepers,” she said, her voice low with reverence.

“You know it?” he asked.

“Only what I’ve heard,” she said. “It is a place known by all healers. It is a refuge for all those who are afflicted. A place where lepers can live freely. A place for those with no hope of healing. A place to stay far away from—unless you want to catch the disease.”

Thor felt a sense of dread. Could Guwayne be in such a place?

He closed his eyes and as he did, he sensed that this isle was where he needed to go—that this was where his child was.

Thor opened his eyes and shook his head slowly.

“I don’t understand,” he said. “I sense it. This is where I’m being led. This is where my child is.”

“If it is,” Selese replied, “it would be a sad day for him. No one who visits here can escape untouched. It is an affliction for which there is no cure.”

“We must turn around!” Reece said. “We cannot touch down there, lest the rest of us catch it. Do you not see? Even the water is infected.”

Thor examined the isle as they sailed ever close, now hardly a hundred yards away, their boat rising and falling with the waves crashing in his ear.

“I would not risk harming any of you,” he said. “This is a trek for me to take, and me alone. You can all stay on the boat. I will find him and bring him back.”

“You will come back a leper,” Matus said gravely.

Thor shrugged.

“I have been to hell and back for my son,” he said. “Do you think I would let a fatal disease stand in my way?”

They all looked away, silent, none able to offer a response.

The waves picked up and carried them closer to shore, the spray hitting Thor in the face. The closer they got, the more his heart pounded. He could feel his destiny rushing toward him. He knew that his child was out there.

Their boat beached on the shore, and the second it touched down, Thor disembarked, his boots crunching on white gravel.

He stood there and looked out at the island before him in wonder, squinting against the glare. Everything was caked in white, as if washed by salt. Even the mist in the air hung with a white tinge to it. The air smelled a bit different here, too; it smelled not only of ocean, but also of death.

This island, Thor sensed, had a solemn, abandoned feel to it, as if it were a place forgotten by others, a place of great peace and solitude—yet also of sadness and tragedy. Thor studied the swaying white trees, the huge leaves shimmering in the wind, and he wondered if his dream was true. Could his child really be here?

Thor turned and saw the boys in the boat, and for the first time ever, he could see real fear in their faces. They had followed him into the Empire, across the seas, to hell and back, and had done so fearlessly. Yet this place of fatal disease had clearly stricken them all with terror. None of them wanted to die a slow, lifelong death.

They all sat in the boat, unmoving.

Thor nodded back to them solemnly. He could see in their eyes that they wanted to join him, but were afraid. He understood. After all, walking onto this island would be a death sentence.

Thor turned and began the march inland, toward the dense white jungle, his boots crunching on the gravel, taking one step at a time, the sound of the ocean waves fading. He entered the jungle, the large leaves brushing against him, a new feeling beneath his feet, leaving the shore behind him—and he knew he had crossed the tipping point:

There was no turning back now.

Thor marched through the jungle, scratched by branches and not caring, and he peered everywhere, trying to see through the dense canopy, looking for Guwayne. He let his senses guide him, turning left and right, allowing himself to be led through the thick foliage, to the place where his instincts brought him.

“Guwayne!” he called out, his voice echoing in this empty place.

“Guwayne!”

Thor’s cry was met by that of a strange bird, somewhere high above, calling down to him as if mocking him.

Thor marched deeper into the jungle, and he soon emerged as it gave way to a new landscape. Before him were rolling hills of white grass, large white trees swaying in the wind.

Thor did not waste any time leaving the jungle and embarking on the hills, looking all around him, everywhere for any sign of Guwayne.

But this island seemed deserted. There was no sign of anyone or anything—just the birds overhead, whose screeches punctuated the air.

Were there really lepers here? Thor wondered. Or was it all a myth?

Thor hiked and hiked, finally cresting a hill, and as he did, he looked down and saw a new landscape, and all of his questions were answered before him. There, sitting in a small valley, nestled amidst the hills and large trees, with a small river running by it, was a low, circular building made of all-white stone, looking ancient, as if it were one with the landscape. It was only perhaps a hundred yards in diameter, with a flat white roof, and no windows that he could see. It had but one door.

On the white landscape that surrounded it, Thor saw signs of life: there were cauldrons hanging over small bonfires, chickens wandering, signs of people living here—people who had no fear of leaving their livestock and food and cooking out in the open, who had no reason to be guarded. People who did not expect any visitors. Ever.

Thor took a deep breath and steeled himself as he marched down the hill, toward the building, not knowing what to expect. He had a strong feeling rising up within him, an inner voice telling him that his child was inside. How, he wondered, was that possible? How could Guwayne have gotten inside? Had someone abducted him?

Thor knew that, with each step he took, he was getting closer to his death sentence. He knew leprosy was an awful affliction and that he would certainly catch it; it would stay with him the rest of his life, turning his skin white, and eventually result in an early and weakened death. He would become an outcast, a person no one wanted to be near.

Yet he did not care. His son was all that mattered to him now. More than his own life.

Thor reached the door and hesitated before it. Finally, he passed the point of no return—he reached out and grabbed the handle, the same handle that all the lepers touched, an all-white skull and crossbones, and he turned it. He knew as he touched it that there was no turning back.

Thor stepped inside and immediately sensed a heavy feeling in the air: it felt of death. It was solemn in here, quiet. His eyes adjusted to the one long, dim room, yet it was not nearly as dim as he had expected. On the far wall were a series of arched, open-air windows lining the wall, letting in the refracted sunlight and ocean breezes, white drapes billowing in the wind.

Thor stopped and looked at the sight before him, his heart pounding, taking it all in, peering through the haze for any sign of his child. He saw a series of straw beds, each ten feet apart, lining the walls. On each bed lay a leper, their skin all white, some with bandages around their faces, some on other parts of their bodies. Most lay there, quiet and still, perhaps two dozen of them. Thor marveled that so many people could coexist in one room and not make any sound at all.

As he entered, they all suddenly turned and looked his way, and he could see the surprise in their faces. Clearly, they had never had a visitor before.

“I’m looking for my child,” Thorgrin called out, as they all stared back. “Guwayne. An infant boy. I believe he is here.”

They all looked at him silently, none of them moving, none of them saying a word. Thor wondered when the last time was any of them had even spoken to an outsider. He realized that this life of seclusion, of being outcasts, had probably worn away at their psyches.

Realizing after a long silence that no one was going to respond, Thor began slowly walking down the aisle between the beds. He checked their faces as he went, and they lay where they were and stared back with sad faces, faces that had lost hope long ago, and observed him in wonder.

Thor looked everywhere for signs of Guwayne, any evidence at all that a child had been here—yet he could find none. He did not hear a baby’s cry; nor did he see any signs of a bed that could hold a baby.

Yet as Thor reached the final bed, a sensation arose within him, a burning feeling, and his heart pounded as he suddenly felt that his child was there, behind that curtain, in that final bed. He turned to look, pulling back the curtain, expecting to see Guwayne.

Instead, he was baffled to see a child lying there, staring back at him. She looked to be perhaps ten. She looked as surprise to see him as he was to see her. She had large, crystal blue eyes, the color of the sea, mesmerizing, eyes filled with love, with hope—with life. She had long blonde hair, beautiful, wild, looking as though if it had never been washed. The skin on her face was remarkably clear, free from any blemish, and Thor wondered if she was in the wrong place. She did not appear to have any sign of the disease.

Then Thor looked down and saw her right arm and shoulder, bright white, the skin eaten up by the disease.

She immediately sat up in bed, alert, filled with life and energy, unlike all the others. She appeared to be the only one of the bunch that had not been broken by this place.

Thor was perplexed. He had sensed his child was behind this curtain—and yet she was the only one here. Guwayne was nowhere to be found.

“Who are you?” the girl asked, her voice inquisitive, full of life and intelligence. “Why have you come here? Have you come to visit me? Are you my father? Do you know where my mother is? Do you know anything about my family? Why they have left me here? Where is my home? I want to go home. I hate this place. Please. Don’t leave me here. I don’t want to stay here anymore. Whoever you are, please, please, please take me with you.”

Before Thor could respond, still trying to process it all, she suddenly jumped up from the bed and threw her arms around his legs, holding him tight.

Thor looked down at her in surprise, not knowing how to react. She knelt there, crying, clutching him, and his heart broke.

He reached down and gently laid his hand upon her hair.

She sobbed.

“Please,” she said, between cries, “please don’t go. Please don’t leave me here. Please. I’ll give you anything. I can’t stay here another minute. I will die here!”

Thor stroked her hair, trying to console her as she wept.

“Shhh,” he said, trying to calm her, but she would not stop crying.

“I’m so sorry,” he finally said. “But I came here looking for my son. A baby. Have you seen him?”

She shook her head, clutching harder.

“There is no baby here. I would know it. There is no baby anywhere on this island.”

Thor’s stomach dropped as the words sunk in. Guwayne was not here. He had somehow been misled. For the first time in his life, his senses had led him astray.

And yet, why had he sensed his child in that bed, right before he drew the curtain? Who was this girl?

“I pray to God every night for someone to come and rescue me,” she said between tears, her voice muffled against his leg. “To take me away from this place. I prayed for someone exactly like you. And then you arrived. Please. You can’t abandon me here. You can’t!”

She hugged his legs, shaking, and Thor tried to process it all. He had not expected this, but as she clutched him, he could feel her distress, and his heart broke for her. After all, she had not asked for this affliction, and clearly, her parents had abandoned her here in this place. The thought of it angered him. What sort of parents would abandon their child, regardless of the affliction? Here he was, willing to cross the world, to enter hell, to take on any affliction for himself to find his own child.

It also tore him up because he, too, he realized, had been abandoned by his own parents. He hated things being abandoned. It struck deep into his heart.

“You don’t want to come with me, child,” Thorgrin said. “When I leave this place, I will be going on a dangerous quest. I don’t know even where exactly I am going, but it won’t be safe. I will be facing hostile enemies, foreign lands, heading into battle. I won’t be able to do that and protect you. Your chances of living are greater here. Here, at least, you will be safe and cared for.”

But she shook her head insistently, tears flowing from her eyes.

“This isn’t living,” she said. “Here there is no life. Only waiting for death. I would rather die while trying to live than live while waiting to die.”

Thor looked into her eyes as she looked up, her crystal eyes glistening, and he could see the warrior spirit within her, shining back at him. He was overcome by her fierce will to live, to really live. To overcome her circumstance. He admired her spirit. It was a fighting spirit. He could see that she would be deterred by nothing. And it was a spirit that, try as he might, he just could not turn away from.

He knew he could make no other decision; his warrior’s spirit would not allow it.

“Okay,” he said to her.

She suddenly stopped crying, froze, and looked up at him, eyes wide in shock.

“Really?” she asked, dumbfounded.

Thor nodded, and he knelt down, looking her right in the eye.

“I will not leave you here,” he said. “I cannot. Pack your things. We shall leave together.”

She looked at him, her eyes filled with hope and joy, a joy greater than he had ever seen in anyone, a joy that made all of it, any risks he was taking, worth it. She leapt forward into his arms, wrapping her arms around him, hugging him so tight he could barely breathe.

“Thank you,” she said, crying, weeping. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Thor hugged her back, and as he did, it felt like the right thing to do. It felt good to be able to hold and protect and nurture a child, even if it was not Guwayne. He knew that to hold her was infecting him, even now, and yet he knew he could make no other choice. After all, what was the purpose of life, if not to help those in need?

Thor turned to go, and she suddenly stopped and turned around and ran back to her bed, grabbing something before returning to him and taking his hand. He looked down to see her clutching a small white doll, a crude one, made from the sticks and leaves of the island, and wrapped with a piece of bandage.

She grabbed his hand and yanked him and led him quickly out of the place, to the amazed eyes of all the others lying there listlessly, watching them go.

They walked outside, exiting the building, and Thor was momentarily blinded by the glare. He held up one hand, and as his eyes adjusted, he was shocked by the sight before him.

Standing before him were all his brothers—Reece and Selese, Elden and Indra, O’Connor, Matus—all of them standing outside the building, waiting for him patiently, all dressed in their new armor, bearing their new weaponry. They had come after all. They had crossed the island, had risked their lives, for him.

Thor was touched beyond words, realizing what they had sacrificed for him.

“We took an oath,” Reece said. “That first day we met, back in the Legion. All of us. It was a sacred oath. An oath of brothers. An oath stronger than family. It was an oath to watch each other’s backs—wherever we should go.”

“Wherever we should go,” all the others repeated, as one.

Thor looked back at them all, each one, face to face, and his eyes welled up as he realized that these were his true brothers, blood thicker than family.

“We couldn’t leave you,” Matus said. “Not even for a place like this.”

The girl stepped forward, looking up at them curiously, and all eyes turned to her, then questioningly to Thor.

“We have a new companion,” Thorgrin said to them. “I would like you to meet…”

Thor, puzzled, realized he didn’t know her name. He turned to her.

“What is your name?” he asked her.

“Here, we never knew our parents,” she said. “We were all given up at birth. None of us know our names. Our real names. So we name each other. Here, they all call me Angel.”

Thor nodded.

“Angel,” he repeated. “That is a beautiful name. And you are indeed as pure as snow.”

Thor turned to all of his brothers and sisters.

“Guwayne is not here,” he announced. “But Angel will be joining us. I am taking her from this place.”

They all looked at him, and he could see the uncertainty flashing through their eyes, could see what they were all thinking: to bring her would infect them all.

Yet, to their credit, not one of them objected. All of them, Thor could see, were willing to risk their lives for her.

“Angel,” Selese said sweetly, smiling, stepping forward, addressing her. “That is a very fine name, for a very sweet girl.”

She stroked her hair, and Angel smiled back broadly.

“No one’s ever touched my hair before,” Angel said back.

Selese smiled wide.

“Then you shall have to get used to it.”

Thor stood there, wondering what this all meant. He had been certain Guwayne was here. He recalled his dream: Your child awaits on the island. He looked at Angel, smiling back at Selese so sweetly, so filled with life, with joy, and he wondered: is she my child? Maybe she was. Not in the literal sense of the word—but maybe he was meant to raise her, as his own. An adopted child?

Thor did not understand, yet he did know it was time to move on. Guwayne was still out there, and he had no time to lose.

As one, they all began to walk—Thor, Reece, Selese, Elden, Indra, Matus, O’Connor, and now Angel, holding Selese’s hand—an unlikely group, yet somehow all fitting perfectly together. Thor did not where this could lead, and yet he knew that somehow, this all felt right.