A Sky of Spells

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Thor faced Gwendolyn, holding his sword at his side, his entire body trembling. He looked out and saw all the faces staring back at him in the stunned silence—Alistair, Erec, Kendrick, Steffen, and a host of his countrymen—people he had known and loved. His people. Yet here he was, facing them, sword at his side. He was on the wrong side of battle.

Finally, he realized.

Thor’s veil had lifted as Alistair’s words rang through him, filled him with clarity. He was Thorgrin. A member of the Legion. A member of the Western Kingdom of the Ring. He was not a solider for the Empire. He did not love his father. He loved all these people.

Most of all, he loved Gwendolyn.

Thor looked down and saw her face, staring up at him with such love, her eyes tearing. He was filled with shame and horror to realize he was facing her, holding this sword. His palms burned with humiliation and regret.

Thor dropped the sword, letting it fall from his hands. He took a step forward and embraced her.

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