Nightshade: Chapter VI
Share
VI–The Witch and The Rogue
Orion listened to the quiet of the black forest, disrupted as Aren alerted above him. He could feel it too, someone or something approaching from the village to the east, hoof beats becoming clearer as they came closer.
It was not long before a black horse with white hair appeared in the thick of the trees before him, frightened and covered with ash.
Orion lifted a hand, calming the horse that reared and grabbed his reins to pet his frightened cheek. “Calm, little one.” he spoke in quiet elvish.
Haemir approached Orion’s side as he comforted the largest horse he had ever seen. “So it’s started then?”
Needless for Orion to answer, the distance exploded with white light, dense colourless fire reaching high into the sky as smoke climbed up into the moon’s curdled light.
Silently Orion prayed for Dahlia’s soul in hopes it would ascend to a realm of light, rather than fall into Hel’s rotting hands.
“Was there anyone left in the village?”
Haemir shook his head, his long black ponytail bound tight as Orion seemed unaffected by shock, the remainder of the rogues awestruck by the white fire in the sky. “The last of them left last night, just like you said.”
Orion tightened his bow and sword holster on his back. “Haemir and Glea stay with me. Everyone else go to Marrowvault. We’ll meet you there before sunset tomorrow.”
Orion did not turn to see them bow before departing, sensing young Glea’s worry as he looked on at the disaster brewing before them.
“Don’t worry Glea,” Orion assured. “We have a fair chance of living until sunrise.”
The three continued eastward, arriving at a crater of debris in the sand, flames still burning white next to the singed stable that had stood only the day before.
Orion looked to the shore path where a woman armoured in red with grey wings lied clutching her badly burned body.
Aren alerted again above him, bringing his attention northward where another dwelling shattered with the force of Noë’s rage, wood planks and bricks falling from the blackened sky.
Tihala cried out in pain as earth and heaven moved in a white flash, her back on the sand of the beach in view of the cottage turned to rubble.
She turned over with a low groan, her eyes opening wide as white fire raised high into the sky, its explosion popping her ears as she screamed at its impact.
“Can you stand?”
She looked up in fear as a tall elven man kneeled beside her his nose and lips covered in a cloth veil.
Tihala nodded. “We were in the cottage, then suddenly–we weren’t.” she winced in pain at a stuck shard. “Dahlia… she was about to change and Noë saw me–”
He pulled the broken tile from between her armour plates. “You’re in no condition to fight, and she’ll be on you soon. Leave this place and word will come when she’s ready.” Tihalas' true confrontation with the young goddess was only just beginning, but the light of vengeance in her eyes made it clear she was not going.
He stood, seeing the refusal and fight in her eyes, the unwillingness to agree. “You think that you can take her, Thorsdottir. And you cannot. You will die if you face her, even in perfect health. What hope is there then to save your father?”
Tihala’s eyes widened in fear.
How did he know of her–of her father? But as she saw his blind eyes and felt an overwhelming presence belonging to the fates, she knew who was before her.
Trusting his word, she stood.
Tihala reluctantly took his hand. Orion felt it tighten on his in threat. “I will come. I swear it.”
He nodded once as she released and took to the sky.
Haemir watched the exchange between Orion and the Valkyrie with scrutiny. “Am I the only one confused about why we sent the seasoned Gods’ warrior away if we’re in for the fight of our lives?”
He looked to the younger elf beside him, blonde and mouse-like with question as he knowingly judged him. “What?”
“She’s hurt Haemir, she can’t risk it.” Glea added as Orion joined them again.
“Hopefully, there won’t be a fight. I have to get Noë to calm down. She won’t do that with Tihala around.” Orion said as he took off his weapons and handed them all to Haemir, shifting his cloak to remove his knife.
Haemir stopped him, “Are you mad? You’re not going over there are you?”
More flames erupted northward to emphasise his point, the faint hissing of Hel’s Dwellers on the wind.
Orion looked into his brown eyes, his blind blue stilling with truth. They didn’t have time to waste.
“She can’t see me as a threat. If she continues, Hel will sense her here. We have to take advantage of her suspicion, not confirm it.”
He looked behind himself where they stood awaiting their orders. “The dwellers are almost here. Fan out and check the woods again to make sure everyone got out safe and then head to Marrowvault with everyone else. Stay away from the town.”
In every vision he had, few details differed. If she didn’t exit her void state they would lose all they had worked and waited for at once. Noë would succumb to her grief and Hel would have her harbinger.
Haemir stopped him again, holding the black of his clothes as his blood red hair matted in the rain. “Be careful brother.”
Orion placed a hand on his shoulder in return. Haemir let go as he and Glea watched him move up the path towards the village flames.
Heat pelted him through the burning white trees, ash and flame carrying westward on the rapid winds. No stars or sky could be seen, the thick black smoke not smoke alone, but Noë’s manifestation of the void’s dark energy, thick and vacant that slowed body and mind.
Between the buildings lit aflame he saw her alone in the sand as corpses of rattling bones lifted from the dirt and deep in the smoke, swinging ancient swords in attempts to cut her down in Hel’s name. But with little more than a glance, her eyes pale and blue, her hair black void personified, they succumbed to the bath of flames around her, her torn shift stuck to her wet skin as ash swirled around her.
Closer now he could hear her sobs, and feel not heat, but blistering cold from the flames surrounding her as she stood in them unharmed in eternal fire.
He questioned his sanity as he came closer, with hope that the fire would not turn on him, just as it had not with her mother before her.
He continued walking slowly not wanting to startle her. The closer he got he could feel pain deep within her. Angry and questioning at the forefront of her mind as she attacked out of cornered fear.
“Noë!” he shouted above the roar of the flames, hissing from the living bones chittering as they turned to ash, their attacks meaningless in the eye of the flames.
As her cold gaze turned on him, he saw pale white tears falling down her ashen cheeks.
Heartbreak.
He heard fate’s whispers as he walked closer, planks and flames flashing cold around them in blinding white light. “I know you’re hurting, and scared. But it wasn’t your fault!”
He held his ears as shrieking erupted in the air, more dweller corpses crawling from the glass streaked silver sands as she turned away to face them.
Unable to hear him, she continued to rage, forcing him closer.
As he neared, he reached into the wall of white flame protecting her and found the cold harmless. The flames parted for him, showing him her injured brown shoulder.
He hesitated to touch her unclothed skin, but drew closer–pulled in by her tormented soul.
At his touch they both gasped, their vision turning from nothingness to a realm of light and still sun.
At once Noë felt peace in place of fear.
She turned to her right side where Orion stood, his dark red hair reminding her of the crushed currants Dahlia liked to drizzle on pastries.
She shook her head.
How could he be here, in this place?
She looked at Orion again, seeing his gaze, his soft lips and strong chin. His dark red brows were pressed together in worry as he considered her. “Who are you?”
Her eyes went upwards, meeting clouded sapphire eyes that shone in the realm light. His pointed ears were jagged and scarred as if the skin had never finished developing.
The elf from before.
He had returned.
Her voice shook, weary and afraid. “You? You came back? Why?”
“I don’t intend to hurt you.” Orion stepped forward cautiously, showing his hands free of anything to harm her. “Search your heart. Look past your rage and grief to the truth.”
She shook her head, tears falling from her eyes as the light in the realm faltered black. Her silver eyes and radiant blushed face were somehow familiar to him too. “I can’t. I… it's too late. I lost control–”
“And you can regain it.” he took her shoulder he spoke to keep her comfortable–inching closer.
Noë felt her heart flutter.
So soothing and sweet–why did his voice sound like chocolate being lazily poured over sweet apples?
She listened to his guidance, focusing on her heart through the cold. Allowing the warmth of the realm light to touch her face, she felt her connection to him.
“Are you your father’s daughter, or are you Hel’s mistake?”
His words, cruel and accurate, shook her from her refusal.
To imagine the pain alone it would bring to her father’s spirit…
She would never belong to Hel.
Never.
She would overcome.
Who was she if she did not try to tame the darkness her father conquered?
She felt herself steadying. She focused on his presence, feeling the weight of the Norns on his shoulders. “You’re the Herald of the Fates… You help them commune with the Gods.”
“Yes.” he said patiently as the void began to waver. “Very good.”
She felt her breath returning, the cold seeming warmer now. “What do they want with me?”
Trusting her to continue to calm, he spoke. “I promise to tell you that and more, but first we must leave this place. Hel can sense you here. It isn’t safe.”
Orion stood before her now, his height far surpassing her own as she looked up at him tearily. “Think of someplace that brings you joy. Somewhere you feel safe.”
Noë took his direction, trusting him as she envisioned her home.
She looked on as the light realm changed to the ocean outside of the pristine cottage in Tarrith, the sea pushing ice sheets towards the white shores and the chimney smoking from her Aunt cooking. All was intact as if the attack had never happened.
Suddenly, she wanted to cry.
Her aunt, her home, all she knew only a day ago was gone. What was she to do now? What point was there in staying where nothing but death awaited her?
Orion watched as her eyes welled. He delved deeper within her vision as she willingly showed him what happened between Dahlia and the Red Valkyrie through her eyes.
He saw a memory of Dahlia hugging her tight before sending her to the market. Noë’s cheeks were significantly redder, her eyes bright and untouched by despair.
“She loved you more than anything.”
Streams of tears painted Noë’s cheeks as they watched her memory together. “I know.” she said softly and looked away as the vision swelled, her aunt’s pleased face laughing and kissing her forehead as Noë tried to get away. She could still feel the tight squeeze.
Orion touched her shoulder, standing closer to her as she hid her tears. Gingerly he held her, his hand swallowing her shoulder with his tan glass skin. “We must leave.”
Knowing he was right, she nodded softly. She breathed deeply in and out, closing her heart to the cold of the void.
Feeling his presence retreat from hers, Noë pulled away, returning to the dark forest shore.
Before her she saw the white flames coating the ground like a thick wool blanket, the cottage and shore hidden from sight as the flames spread in every direction in the centre of the town.
Shame and panic filled her thoughts.
What had she done?
On her knees before him, he reached down for her hand, her face turning upward allowing him to see the tears running down her emotionless face as the flames continued to spread behind her.
Orion watched as the moon and sky reappeared, the rain and smoke disappearing as the flames died down with all but the foundations left standing. “We evacuated everyone yesterday. You harmed no one but Tihala, and she will heal.”
Noë gasped tears of relief as she held her aching heart. How had she let herself get so swept away, so caught in Hel’s cold fury?
She took his offered hand and stood as he gave her a friendly touch to her shoulder to reassure her she was not alone.
Noë looked around the pile of stone and wood left behind, her heart tearing at the thought of all of her memories in Tarrith crumbling beneath the weight of her outburst.
She had known no other life than this.
What would she do now?
Suddenly she began to feel uneasy, her gaze wavering as she tried to walk closer to him for balance.
Orion felt her fingers clutch his clothes as her legs gave out, her eyes fluttering closed, her grip weakening as she lost her balance.
He reached for her, taking her in his hands as he caught her fainting body.
“I’ve got you.” he whispered, holding her quietly.
He took water to her face, smoothing away the soot from the flames. He steadied her weight before lifting her upwards in his arms and looked into her resting face, her torn dress hardly covering her chest.
Asleep this way she looked nearly recovered, the happiness of the girl she was in the cottage peaking through in her red cheeks.
He removed his cloak from the silver adornments and wrapped it over her wet sheer covered breasts.
Haemir came to Orion’s side, helping him up the hill as the goddess slept peacefully in his arms. “Is that…”
Orion looked to Haemir, his fully formed ears brandished proudly through his lengthy ponytail. He nodded once. “Why did you not travel to Marrowvault?”
Haemir crossed his arms. “I wasn’t planning on explaining to the King why exactly I left his son to fend for himself from a rampaging Goddess. And Glea was too scared to go himself.”
Glea scoffed, “Not true, Haemir.” though it was.
Orion listened to their quiet bickering as he felt Night itself was in his palms, stars and swirling black sky twinkling in his grasp as if it was entrusting him to be its keeper. With eyes of sterling and hair now white that was once black as pitch.
Glea approached from behind. “No sign of any dwellers. Only one body. What should we do with it?”
Orion looked into Glea’s eyes. “Her, Glea.” he corrected. “Lay her to rest under the Honeytree.”
He didn’t look away from Noë as he walked with her in his arms towards the black horse by the treeline. “We move at daybreak.”
To be continued...