appeared here so suddenly. Thor looked at him, and felt both a sense of dread and excitement.
“I was searching for you, after the funeral,” Thor said. “There are so many questions I have for you. Even before the death. But I could not find you.”
“I do not always wish to be found,” Argon said. His eyes were shining, a light blue.
Thor stared at him, wondering how much Argon was seeing right now. Did he see the future? Would he tell him if he did?
“We’re leaving tomorrow,” Thor said, “for The Hundred.”
“I know,” Argon answered.
“Will I return?” Thor asked, dying to know.
Argon looked away.
“Will I still be in the Legion? Will I pass the test? Become a great warrior?”
Argon stared back, expressionless.
“Many questions,” he said, and turned and looked away. Thor realized he was not going to respond to any of them.
“If I told you your future, it might affect it,” Argon added. “Every choice you make, that is what creates it.”
“But I saw MacGil’s future,” Thor said. “In that dream. I saw that he was going to die. And yet I tried to help and it did no good. What was the point of my seeing it? What was the point of all that? I wish I’d never known.”
“Don’t you?” Argon asked. “But your knowing affected destiny. He was meant to be poisoned. You prevented that.”
Thor stared back, puzzled. He had never thought of that.
“But he was killed anyway,” Thor said.
“But not by poison. By dagger. And you don’t know what effect that small change will have on the destiny of this kingdom.”
Thor thought about that, his head hurting. It was too much for him to comprehend. He didn’t fully understand what Argon was hinting at.
“The King wanted to see me before he died,” Thor continued quickly, eager for answers. “Why me? Of all people? And what did he mean, when he spoke of my mother? Of my destiny being greater than his? Were these just the words of a dying man?”
“I think you know they were far more than that,” Argon replied.
“So then it’s true?” Thor asked. “My destiny is greater even than his? How is that possible? He was a king. I am nothing.”
“Are you, then?” Argon asked back.
Argon took several steps forward, standing feet away from Krohn, and stared down at him. Krohn whined, and turned and ran away. Thor felt a chill, as Argon stared right through him.
“God does not choose the arrogant for his will. He chooses the humble. The least likely. Those overlooked by everyone else. Have you not considered this? All of your days farming, tending your father’s sheep in your village. This is a warrior’s-a true warrior’s-foundation. Humility. Reflection. This is what forges a warrior. Did you never sense it? That you were greater than what you were? That you were meant for something else?”
Thor thought, and realized that he had sensed it.
“Yes,” Thor responded. “I felt that…maybe I was meant for greater things.”
“And now that they arrive, you still don’t believe it?” Argon asked.
“But why me?” Thor asked. “What are my powers? What is my destiny? Where did I come from? Who was my mother? Why must everything in life be such a riddle?”
Argon slowly shook his head.
“One day, you will discover these things. But you have much to learn first. You must first become who you are. Your powers are deep, but you know not how to wield them. A mighty river flows within you, but it still lingers beneath the surface. You must bring it forward. You will learn much in your hundred days. But remember, that will be just the beginning.”
Thor looked up at Argon, wondering how much he saw.
“I feel guilty to live,” Thor said. He wanted desperately to tell Argon what was on his mind, the one person who could understand. “The king is dead, and yet I am alive. I feel that his death is on my head. And it hurts to go on.”
Argon turned and looked at him.
“One king dies and another follows. That is the way of the world. A throne is not meant to sit empty. Kings will flow, like a river, through our Ring. All will seem permanent, and all will be fleeting. Nothing in this world-not you, not I-can stop the current. It is a parade of puppets, in the service of fate. It is a march of kings.”
Thor sighed, looking out at the horizon for a very long time.
“The ways of the universe are inscrutable,” he finally continued. “You will not understand them. Yes, it hurts to go on. But we must. We have no choice. And remember,” he said, smiling at Thor with a smile that terrified him, “one day, you will join MacGil, too. Your time here is but a flash. Don’t let life weigh you down with fear and guilt and regret. Embrace every moment of it. Do you understand me? The best thing you can do for MacGil now is to live. To
Argon reached out and grabbed Thor by the shoulders, and it felt like two fires burning through his arms. He stared down with such intensity, Thor finally had to turn his head, and blink his eyes shut.
He raised up his hands to protect his eyes, and then suddenly, he felt nothing. He looked up. Argon was gone. Vanished.
Thor stood there alone in the field, turning in every direction. He saw nothing but the open sky, the open plains, and the howling of the wind.
*
Thor sat around the fire on the cool summer night, staring into the flames silently with the other Legion members as the wood cracked and popped. He leaned back on his elbows and looked up at the night sky, and in the distance, countless stars twinkled red and orange. Thor wondered, as he often did it, about distant worlds out there. He wondered if there were planets that weren’t divided by canyons, seas that weren’t protected by dragons, kingdoms that were not divided by armies. He wondered about the nature of fate and destiny.
The fire crackled, and he looked over at the roaring flames, around which sat his brothers-in-arms, hunched over, arms resting on their knees, looking somber and on-edge. Some of them roasted pieces of meat on sticks.
“Want one?” came a voice.
Thor turned and saw Reese, sitting beside him, holding out a stick wrapped in a white, gooey substance. He looked around and saw that they were being passed around to other boys around the fire.
“What is it?” Thor asked, as he took it and touched the white mass. It was sticky.
“Sap from the Sigil Tree. You roast it. Wait until it turns purple. It’s delicious. And it will be the last tasty thing you have in a while.”
Thor watched the other boys holding their sticks into the fire, watched as the white substance hissed. He held his out, too, into the flames, and was amazed as the substance bubbled over, then turned colors. It turned all the colors of the rainbow before it turned purple.
He pulled it out and tasted it, and was amazed at how good it was. It was sweet and chewy, and he took bite after bite.
Seated on his other side, chewing happily, were Elden, O’Connor, and the twins. As Thor looked around, he realized that the Legion fell into natural cliques. With the ages ranging from 14 to 19, and with nearly a hundred boys in the Legion, there were a dozen boys in each age range. The 19 year olds barely acknowledged the 14-year- olds, and each year seemed to stick to itself. Looking at the faces of the 19 year olds, Thor could hardly conceive how much older they looked, like full-grown men, compared to the boys his age. They looked almost too old to even still be in the Legion.
“Are they coming, too?” Thor asked Reese. He did not need to ask where. The Hundred was on everyone’s mind this night, and no one seemed to think or talk of anything else.
“Of course,” Reese answered. “Everyone goes. No exceptions. Every age range.”
