A Sea of Shields

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Romulus marched, leading his army through the smoldering forests of the Wilds, the sounds of thousands of boots crunching leaves behind him, the skies filled with the sound of dragons cries above, and he smiled in triumph. Here he was, invincible, having crossed the ocean with a fleet of ships, leading his army, and the dragons, on the last leg of their march, just moments away from reaching the canyon and being able to destroy the Shield. His time for vengeance, for complete control of the world, had come.

As they went, the dragons dove down and rained fire on the Wilds, destroying miles of forest, decimating the creatures that lived on this side of the canyon. The dragons flushed the creatures out of the woods, and hordes of them, shrieking, charged right for Romulus and his men.

Romulus rushed forward, sword held high, and chopped off the head of one wild beast after the next, as all of his men joined in. It was a bloodbath, the men destroying everything in their path like a plague of locusts, killing whatever the dragons had left over. Romulus had not had this much fun since he was a boy.

Romulus marched and marched, feeling victorious, triumphant, prepared for the greatest victory of his life. In moments, he would destroy the Shield, invade the Ring, take King’s Court, and murder Gwendolyn. He would have what his predecessors, even Andronicus, never had: complete dominion of the world. He would enslave and torture everyone in sight.

Romulus smiled and breathed deep at the thought. He could almost taste the bloodshed now.

The sorcerer had prophesied that Romulus would destroy the Shield—but he had not specified exactly how. Romulus could only assume that, with all these dragons in his power, their joined force would ram it, destroy it, and lead the way for him to cross the canyon, into the Ring. After all, how could the strength of the Shield stand up to these dragons?

Romulus finally rounded a bend, and as he did, he breathed deep, in awe at the sight which never got old: there, before him, was the vast canyon, its mists rising up, luring him to approach. There was his destiny.

Romulus marched right up to the edge of the canyon crossing, the vast bridge spanning the two worlds, and as he did, he looked up to the skies and waited. He closed his eyes and commanded his host of dragons to race forward, right for the invisible Shield.

He opened his eyes and watched as they all flew overhead, right for the gaping canyon, his heart pounding with excitement. He braced himself for the destruction. For his moment.

But as Romulus watched, he was shocked to see all the dragons slam into the invisible wall and bounce back. The dragons shrieked in fury, circled around, and bounced into it again and again and again.

But they could not get past the Shield.

Romulus stood there, baffled, crushed with disappointment. How could the Shield possibly withstand the power of all these dragons? He was meant to enter the Ring. It had been prophesied. What had gone wrong?

Romulus, burning with frustration, knew he had to test the Shield another way. He reached over, grabbed one of his men, and hurled him into the invisible Shield.

The man flew into it face first and as he did, he shrieked as he was eviscerated, burning up, landing in a pile of ashes at their feet.

Romulus fumed. It couldn’t be. What had gone wrong? Had he been led astray? Would he have to turn back, in humiliation, once again? The thought was too much for him to bear.

It made no sense. He was lord of the dragons. There was nothing on this planet—nothing—that should be able to stop him.

Romulus stood and stared, the mainland of the Ring looking so far away. As he stared, all of his hopes and dreams began to melt. For the first time, his sense of unstoppable power began to feel shaken. What was he missing?

As Romulus stood waiting, watching, realizing with humiliation he would have to turn around, abandon his plans once and for all, suddenly, slowly, something appeared in the distance. It was a woman. She walked slowly, on the far side of the canyon, and stepped foot onto the bridge.

She moved tentatively at first, one step at a time. She held her arms out to her side, and with each step she took, she came a little bit closer. Romulus recognized her.

Could it be? Were his eyes playing tricks on him?

It made no sense. A woman was voluntarily crossing the bridge, toward his side of the Ring. A woman he recognized. The one and only woman he needed most in the world:

Luanda.