A Reign of Steel

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Thor stood before the skywalk, holding his breath as a cold gust of wind smacked him in the face. In the distance, at the other end of the walk, he saw great cliffs rising up into the sky, and perched on the edge, an ancient castle, its doors gleaming gold.

His mother’s castle.

The wind howled as he stood there, regarding the sight, this view from his dreams, with a mix of anticipation and worry. The skywalk was narrow, slick with the ocean spray and a hanging mist, and beneath it, the fall to the raging ocean and cliffs below was several hundred feet. It was a death fall.

Thor looked out at the vista with a sense of wonder. There was magic in the air here, he could feel it. This entire world felt surreal; it was the landscape of his dreams, come to life, dreams that had haunted him all his life. And now it was real.

Or was it real? Was this all just another creation of his mind?

Thor could no longer be sure. But this felt more real to him anything he had seen. Certainly more real than one of his dreams. And now that he was here, inside his dream, he wasn’t sure how it would end.

Thor knew that his mother was there, on the other side of that skywalk, in that castle; he could sense it. He felt himself trembling, excited beyond belief to finally lay eyes on her—and nervous. What would she look like? Would she be kind and loving to him, as she had been in his dreams? Would she be happy to see him?

And then there was the worst thought of all, the one that Thor was afraid to entertain: what if she was not there at all?

Thor knew that standing here, waiting, would do him no good. The time had come.

Thor braced himself and took his first step onto the walkway; as he did, the wind howled. He stumbled immediately on the slick ground, then regained his balance. He took several more steps, cautious.

The sound of the waves grew louder, and Thor looked down and saw them, smashing against the rocks, the mist rising up into the air, carried by the wind. He took another step, then another, and as he did, he could not help but feel as if he were leaving one world behind and entering a new one. He felt as if he were walking into the very depths of his subconscious.

Thor gained momentum, walking faster and faster, and soon he was halfway across. He knew it could not be this easy. He began to wonder what other tests might lay before him, what else his subconscious might create.

He had barely thought it, when there appeared before him a lone figure. Thor blinked several times before he realized it was his adopted father, the man who had raised him back in his home village, the man who had been so cruel to him. Behind him there suddenly appeared, too, Thor’s three adopted brothers.

Thor realized his mind was bringing him back to his childhood, to his earliest days, creating another obstacle for him. It was creating, he realized, all the people in his life who had always tried to keep him down, the final obstacles to his getting where he wanted to go.

“You will come no further,” said his adopted father. “You are not worthy. And only the worthy can cross here.”

“Who are you to tell me I’m not worthy?” Thor replied, finally standing up to this man, as he had not done his entire life. Thor’s inability to stand up for himself, to express himself, to tell this father figure how he’d really felt, had been one of his main sources of disappointment his entire life. Now, finally, he was mustering the courage.

Thor’s three brothers scowled behind him while Thor’s father stood there, hands on hips, defiant.

“If you think you can cross here, Thorgrin, you will have to get past me.”

His father charged, and he was faster than Thor realized. Thor reached to grab the Destiny Sword, and was horrified to see it was gone.

Thor, defenseless against his father’s charge and reacting too late, found himself tackled by him, driven down to the ground. The two of them went sliding along the narrow skywalk.

Thor slid right for the edge, when he suddenly spun around and threw his father over, wrestling him, the two of them rolling back and forth as they slid.

Thor finally landed on top of his father, pinning him to the ground, choking him, as his father choked Thor back. Thor heard his three brothers charging towards him, heard each draw their swords, each about to stab Thor in the back.

Thor closed his eyes.

You are not real. You do not really exist. You are my subconscious. You are my doubts and fears. Everything I see around me, everything in the world, is me. It is I giving you power. And now, I will stop giving you that power.

Thor summoned the deepest part of himself to force himself to become stronger, to fight without fighting, to wage war without weapons. It was time, he realized, to make his mind stronger than his body.

Thor felt a wave of heat rush over him, felt his world turn a blinding white, and as he opened his eyes, he found himself grabbing not his father’s neck, but the dirt on the walkway beneath him. His father had vanished.

Thor turned, and saw his brothers were gone, too. All that was left was the howling of the wind, and waves of mist, rolling in.

Thor breathed out, relieved, then slowly regained his feet. He continued walking along the skywalk, chiding himself to keep his mind strong. He was becoming, he knew, his own worst enemy. This entire trek across the Land of the Druids had been one long quest to master his mind and that, he was beginning to realize, was the hardest battle of all. Thor would rather face an entire army alone. His mind could take him to the deepest and darkest places unexpectedly, and he still did not have the control he needed to prevent it from going there. How did one gain that control? he wondered. It was a struggle, he realized, that he would have to continue to train to master.

As Thor walked, the gusts of wind knocking him off balance, he decided he could use the power of his mind to lessen the power of the wind. He was starting to see how he was one with nature, the universe, with everything around him. The wind calmed, and he stood straighter, walked more proudly, had better balance as he continued along the walkway. He felt the universe converging all around him, his footing getting more sure.

Thor was amazed to realize that he was approaching the end of the skywalk. When he was just feet away from the end, from the cliff on which his mother’s castle stood, suddenly, one more figure stood before him, blocking the way.

Thor blinked several times, trying to process who he saw before him. It made no sense. Facing him was a formidable foe, wearing armor unlike any other Thor had seen.

Standing there, facing him, was him.

Thorgrin.

Thor stared back at the exact replica of himself, a fierce and formidable warrior, who stood there, braced for battle, holding the Destiny Sword at his side. He examined this warrior and tried to understand if he was real, or just another creation of his mind. How could there be another one of him in the universe?

“Why do you block me from my mother’s entrance?” Thor asked.

“Because you are not worthy,” came the reply.

“Not worthy to meet my own mother?” Thor asked.

The warrior stared back, expressionless, unflinching.

“This is a castle for the initiated,” he replied. “Only the most powerful can enter. I am the guardian. You will have to come through me.”

Thor stared back, puzzled.

“But you are myself,” Thor said.

“It is yourself you have not yet conquered,” came the reply.

The warrior suddenly charged, raising the Destiny Sword high and bringing it down for Thor’s head.

Thor felt something in his palm, and he looked down with joy to realize that he, too, was wielding the same Destiny Sword.

Thor raised it high and charged himself.

The two swords met in the middle, perfectly matched, sparks flying everywhere. Thor attacked, swinging left and right, and the warrior mimicked every exact blow, move for move. Whatever Thor did, the warrior did exactly, and Thor realized quickly that it was futile; there was no way he could win. This warrior knew what he knew. He anticipated his moves, and there was no way to defeat him.

Back and forth they went, Thor breathing hard, his arms and shoulders growing tired, until suddenly, as Thor slashed, the warrior did something Thor did not expect: he leaned back and kicked Thor in the chest.

Thor went flying, sliding on his back, along the walkway, all the way to the edge. He continued sliding on his slick armor, unable to stop himself, fearing he would slide off the edge.

Thor panicked as he slid over the edge, and began to fall.

Suddenly, the warrior was there, grabbing Thor’s ankle, holding him by one hand, preventing him from falling. Thor looked down over his shoulder and saw the raging ocean below. He then looked up and saw has reflection staring down, as if debating whether or not to help him.

“Help me,” Thor said, reaching up for him, upside down.

“And why should I?”

“I must see my mother,” Thorgrin said. “I have not come all this way to die so close.”

“And yet you lost in battle,” the warrior said.

“But I lost to myself.”

He shook his head.

“I am sorry,” the warrior said. “You are still not strong enough.”

Suddenly, the warrior let go.

Thor shrieked as he felt himself falling backwards, into the air, end over end, his screams echoing off the canyon as he plummeted towards the ocean, the rocks, and the sure death below.