Nightshade: Chapter XIX
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XIX–The Vengeance and The Well
Burning black sky woke Noë to thunder and lightning shaking the mountains. She sat up in bed, woken by the stormy sea breeze fluttering in the white curtains over the black valley view.
Quickly she stood, closing the terrace doors as she swore she had before lying down to sleep. She held her heart at the sound of the thunder continuing, looking out the glass of the window by the terrace into the black night.
She eyed each corner of the city, failing to see any light on the castle walls or in the cleft of the river running into the waterfall. She looked upwards to the tallest peak of the church seeing not even a candle in its white stone towers as there usually were.
Tonight the night was black.
Not even the moon hung in its starry sky.
She felt the cold mixing within her, urging her to search the path Lefelgd had told her of immediately. She put on her shoes, grabbing a dim lantern as she left her rooms, exiting into the dark night, crossing the exposed outdoor bridge between her keep and the royal family’s.
She passed the twin’s rooms, Oncinth’s, Aolis’s and Orion’s, hesitating in front of the large shut door, spotting the Bromhillow tapestry, red brown and green in its leaves with nine orbs floating along its stem. She looked each way in the hall, spotting no one as she touched the tapestry hanging from a cork wound into the stone.
Behind it she felt thrumming–something pulsing as if life breathed behind it, the air from the terrace at the end of the hall seeming to funnel behind it. She lifted it shocked to see the wall was not as solid as she believed.
Intrigued, she walked through it, appearing at the base of wound grey stone stairs, leaves green and black spinning down the spiral as if this part of the castle had not been kept in some time.
She climbed through the dark, eager to find the source of the heartbeat as her hands followed the stone of the wall to keep her balanced.
Reaching the top of the tall tower she stood high above the coast in front of a window, the sea pushing and pulling in the storm as raindrops passed the high window. Now she could see past the tall mountains and toward the southern tip of the city.
In the centre of the room was a hole in the stone floor, leaves and flowers pulsing in and out with the breeze as she felt life within the dark deep puddle. Hearing it call to her she kneeled before it, catching shimmers of orange and red gold on the surface as it waved gently.
She looked closer into it, seeing what looked like red flame in a hall of stone much like the one around her now and…a person. A person whom she thought was herself but then–eyes of gold hardened on her, a voice rich and accented washing over her as she peered at the water closer, bringing her palm to the surface of the cold water as the woman in the reflections did too, feeling warmth from her skin as they touched.
Her mother?
Their shock reflected on each other’s faces as Noë removed her hand out of fear, thunder clapping above her head as if directly in her ears. She stood, lightning striking the tower as it shook, stuttering her heart.
The Red Valkyrie appeared in the strike, entering through the small balcony on the tall tower. She looked healthier now, her coal black eyeliner fixed even with her saturated wet hair. Her eyes a calm green as she stepped through into the stone room. Her red armour sat boldly on her body, tall and looming far above Noë. “You called as the guide said.”
Noë felt the void pulling in replacing the fear. She backed away, nowhere to run as she blocked the stairs. “You killed my Aunt.”
Tihala scoffed and looked at Noë once before moving further into the room. “You’re welcome.”
Noë felt flames tickling her fingers. She tried to breathe deep, but her Aunt’s love was all she could picture. “Why…would I ever thank you for that?”
The Red Valkyrie stopped walking, pausing in front of the mirror surface of the water, hearing nothing but the dripping of the rain from the roof.
She examined her lines and wrinkles. Not long ago she had been Noë’s age, young and filled with hope for her greater duty.
What a joke that had been.
“She was scourged. It took her quite a while to turn, but she did like all the others and would have tried to kill you. So… as I said, you’re welcome.”
Noë felt her anger lessening.
It was true her mother’s protection on Dahlia had begun to wear, but to see it for herself, and to witness the Red Valkyrie's blade piercing her flesh had been too much.
She stayed silent.
The Red Valkyrie eyed her as her hair began to turn back to black, tears replacing her sneer. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”
Noë looked her up and down. “Clearly another God. Should I know you?”
The Red Valkyrie chuckled and leaned against the tower wall. Noë came closer and stood across from her as she eyed her with irritation. “If you show me a memory, I'll know.”
She raised a brow. “Show you a memory?”
Noë extended an arm and the Red Valkyrie flinched motioning at her waist for her weapon. “I can sense thoughts, feelings. We clasp hands, or just touch really. Whatever you’d like to share, I’ll see.”
Tihala took Mjolnir from her waist and dropped it on the floor. The stone hammer rocked the tower unsteadily. “Now do you know?”
Noë retracted her hand and eyes the weapon she had only seen in sketches. “Thor’s almighty hammer. Why would you have it?”
Tihala looked at her in confusion, and then rabid anger. She stood, wanting desperately to strike the helspawn in front of her. “He was my father.” she squeezed through her clenched teeth, warning Noë to choose her next words carefully.
Why hadn’t Dahlia mentioned that she had a cousin? And she was still alive?
Forcibly Noë gripped Tihala’s white wrist to confirm her tales. Together they were plunged into a room filled with sunlight, gold curtains billowing on a terrace of yellow where the largest man she had ever seen walked through the door, red-haired and thunderous, embracing a young Tihala, smiling and filled with joy.
Noë smiled.
She could feel Thor's love.
She prepared to pull away when a tall brown woman walked in next, gifts in hand for Tihala, embracing and kissing her on her head. Noë stood frozen, moving around the woman with golden eyes, her long brown-black hair threaded together into twists much like the ones she had seen in drawings alone.
She heard a squeaking noise coming from her own throat as a warm scent of vanilla passed by with her, her kind eyes telling nothing of her skill in battle as she lit candles by a flick of her wrist. Orange and bright just as it had been in the puddle’s mirror image.
“Aztrit!” A large blonde goddess called her mother. Sif came in, her blue eyes fixed on her sister in law as she hugged her child.
Noë felt her hand raise, wanting desperately to reach out and touch Aztrit as she saw her in life before her.
“Mother?” She whispered softly, hoping she would hear her.
Aztrit did not.
But as Noë’s fingers came close, Aztrit looked around, feeling a shift in the air. Seeing nothing she shrugged it away and watched as Tihala opened her presents.
Noë pulled from the memory and held to the balcony to keep from sinking to her knees. She had finally seen her clearly, seen her mother. She looked into her eyes, heard her voice.
Why?
Why now?
What was she to learn from this pain in her chest where her mother should be?
Tihala pulled back her hand. Of course the daughter of Aztrit could be bold when she decided to be. “It seems Dahlia shielded you from much. I wonder now if you even know what's requested of you.”
Noë looked up through her tears. Not understanding.
Tihala eyed her in return. “I searched for you for quite some time. Without you, I have no hope of getting my father out of Helheim and restoring his spirit so that he may be reborn. The way he was taken from this life kept him from Valhalla. I can not rest until he is at peace.”
Noë wiped at her eyes. Tihala’s vengeance, her drive made sense now. But how was she to do any of that for her? “How?”
Thihala squinted at her. “You are a void witch, much like your grandmother. Aren’t you?”
Noë partially shrugged, she had no training, no way of knowing the full extent of her powers. Purposefully venturing into the void in search of Hel was a death wish.
And she had promised.
“I channel it, but I cannot control it. I can hardly use my powers without succumbing to it.”
Tihala grunted in frustration. “Then you will practise. I will help prepare you. Then you can restore the wells and complete this cycle so we can all move on.”
Noë squinted. “Wells? I’m very lost.”
Tihala took her shoulders and shook. “Fimbulwinter is meant to be temporary. This world–Yggdrasil is dying from its prolonged winter state and if it continues all worlds–all souls–including my father’s will return to the void instead of being reborn. But you could stop it and set things right.”
Noë looked into her eyes as they shifted red with frustration, Tihala’s eyes pleading with her to understand. “I don’t know if I could do that. That much power, how could it belong to any one person?”
Tihala released her shoulders. “I do not know. But I do know that only one being is able to exist within it. Control it. And that is you, isn’t it? Night is its Keeper.”
Nott, her divine name did translate to night. And it was true that she had long felt safe, protected under the cover of darkness, but that did not mean that she could ever be its master. It was bigger than her.
She inhaled as she recalled Orion’s words.
Tihala wanted to hit something. Why was she staring at her with big silver doe eyes? “Do you know nothing of this? You’d leave your own father to rot in Hel’s domain?”
Confused again, Noë shook her head. “My father is dead.”
“No. Kirk Verdulke is captive in Helheim, awaiting you to release him which you clearly have no interest in doing.”
Through Noë’s continued silence Tihala calmed herself. “Nevertheless, Uncle made another journal. One that should be of greater use to you about the wells and how to travel through them. The Herald should show you what you must do for your journey. Ask him.”
Before Noë could question further, Tihala vanished with a rush of lightning, thunder booming in the sky as Noë looked out the window, watching the grey sky in awe.
“Our Uncle?”
Baldur, her mother’s eldest brother had died even before her mother was born. How could he have left anything for her?
And her father? He could not be alive, trapped in Hel’s care, could he?
She felt her stomach at unease, confusion setting in as lies began to unravel. She felt her hands shaking, her hair changing–
“No.” She breathed deeply, in and out.
“No.” She repeated, calming her breaths. It was impossible.
Tihala was lying.
Noë felt her feet carrying her as quick as she could go, down the tower and towards the King’s Quarters on the western seaside. Surely Tihala was wrong.
They weren’t all lying to her, were they?
Needing a mother–she was knocking on the King’s bedroom door before she could stop herself.
As two guards exited from the foyer attached to it, stopping her fist from pounding, Noë ripped her arm away. “Do not touch me!” She shouted, her eyes glazing icicle blue and purple as her hair pulsed white.
The door opened to Lefelgd, his abs visible and his side bound. “Noë? Is something wrong?” He wiped at her teary face and looked angrily to the guard. “Leave immediately. Do not stop her from coming to me again.” He watched them bow and sucked his teeth.
“I’m sorry uncle. Angeana is she–” Noë held her breath to keep from crying.
As Angeana appeared, her blonde hair braided similarly, Noë felt her hurt shift to anger.
“Tell me there isn’t some ancestral journal being kept from me. That there isn’t some ridiculous secret being passed around about my father being alive.”
Angeana held her chest, knowing too well what she spoke of.
“Noë –”
“Tell me it isn’t true… Tell me!” She heard herself screaming, but she felt as if she was tearing from the inside out. She had no one. Lost her entire family only to find the few she had left were lying to her, Dahlia, Angeana, and even Orion were in on it.
“Tell me…please?” she whispered.
Angeana felt tears pricking her eyes and pulled Noë into her tight hug. “My heart. I did not mean for you to discover it this way. I wanted to give you time, allow you to adjust–”
The hallway outside their door began to crowd as Orion, the twins, and Oncinth peeked outside of their doors, watching their mother cradle a sobbing Noë as she raucously cried between their parents. Lefelgd stroked Noë’s hair. “It’s alright. Everyone go back to bed.” His eyes lingered on Orion’s as realisation hit him.
She knew.
Orion saw his father’s expectation behind his eyes. If she knew, it would not be long until she approached him with questions.
All but Orion returned to bed. He stood in his doorway, his pants low on his hips, showing his well worked chest and arms. He pulled on a tunic quickly, red spotted black to cover himself.
Angeana held the sobbing girl, her chest shaking. She had held back her grief, but now tears fell for her fallen friends. “After your mother, Dahlia asked me–made me swear to try to allow you to have a normal life here, not to pressure you to follow fate. It is not always correct.”
Noë stepped away from Angeana’s hold. “It is not for any of you to decide! I should decide! My father… he is rotting while I stay here, dining, living lavishly, blissfully unaware that he is prisoner in Hel’s domain!”
Guilt shook her.
She hit her chest hard, shaking her voice. She should have felt that he was out there somewhere, in need of her help. How could she abandon him this way?
“He’s waiting for me. Two hundred years… He likely doesn’t even believe that I’ll come. And you… you want me to ignore it?”
Angeana shook her head, tears pouring now from her eyes. “No–” she reached forward only for Noë to take another step back.
She turned to Orion, wanting to say nothing to him, but needing to see it for herself.
“Give it to me.” as he stayed still she narrowed her eyes. “Now.”
He took the journal from his hanging cloak and placed it in her hands. She opened the journal, seeing Baldur’s name etched in the leather cover, his clear writing and sketches evident on the yellowed pages.
A pained cry bubbled, trapped in her throat.
It was all true.
How had Tihala become her only true ally?
“I am–leaving. Right now.” Noë said between sobs, humiliated and broken as she blamed herself for her father’s undue suffering. She could not stand still for another moment.
Not when he needed her.
She dropped her hands and moved past Orion, not caring for him standing there.
“Noë!” Angeana called, stopped by Lefelgd’s embrace. “Stop her, please! Orion!”
Noë entered her rooms, packing the journals and taking the few garments she had made herself and stuffing them into the only bag she had. She didn’t know what she needed or how she would get there but she was going.
Orion entered the room behind her as she furiously packed, tears streaming down her face as she packed nonsensical things, a brush, perfume, anything that was not nailed down.
“Noë.” He spoke first hoping to calm her with his words.
She did not look up.
“Don’t you dare speak to me at this moment. I can’t stand the sight of you.” She wanted to be blinded by hate and feel nothing, but as she only began to sob harder, he stepped further in, blocking her from packing anything else and pulled her into his chest.
“You swore you would not go looking.”
Noë melted against his hard chest, his smell clean and welcoming as her emotions lost control in his comfort.
Together they slid to the floor as he held her. Too overwhelmed to fight, she listened to his voice as her tears drowned her.
“You swore to me.”
“He’s out there. My father is out there, Orion. He needs me, and I left him–”
He hushed her as she blamed herself, eating her insides up with guilt. “You could not have known. You are not at fault.”
“I am.” she argued, squeezing his tunic in her hands as she cried harder.
“You are not. And you cannot help him this way. He went with Hel willingly, to protect you and your mother to keep you far away from her. Would you waste his gift to you, by throwing yourself at her feet?” he felt her shake her head.
Gentle and sweet was she in his arms.
He winced as a vision overtook them, warmth replaced by sadness and tension as she replayed the vision of her mother she saw for the first time, and the conversation with Tihala.
Understanding what happened as they pulled out, he held her tighter. Of course she was devastated. He hadn’t known just how shielded she had been before coming here.
Now all made sense.
He held her head as her sobs grew quieter, wet tears hitting his chest as she tugged for support. He closed his eyes and thought of happier memories.
Noë gasped as Orion plunged her into his mind, showing her father playing with him as a boy, threatening his bullies and putting him on his shoulders. Orion’s cherub cheeks smiled brightly, his ears prominent as Kirk placed him on Fora, her mother’s horse and Aztrit fixed his hair. In this vision her mother’s belly was swollen and full, and Noë could feel her own presence amongst the happiness and warmth in the stables.
“Together before we even realised.” he said lowly in comfort as they pulled out of the vision and she wiped her teary face.
Peace lulled through her in place of the overwhelming despair of the emotionally charged night. “Thank you for showing me that. It’s just so hard picturing them alive, and tonight was the first–” she began to cry again. “I’m sorry. Gods, I know I’m being a baby, but…I can’t–my heart–” her sobs interrupted her as he brought her to his chest again.
Orion shushed her. “You do not have to explain to me. I can feel what is happening within you.”
She hugged his torso tighter as she sat between his legs. He heard her quieting as she released her steele grip on his robe. Her warm body leaned further into his chest. He savoured her next to him, smelling the sweet orange of her hair.
He stayed there with her, sunken onto the chamber floor on the soft rug as she cried well throughout the night. He lifted her as she fell asleep, laying her in her bed and covering her with the thick blankets. He made sure the balcony doors were closed and sat in the lounge chair next to her bed.
He spread his legs and sighed, rubbing his hands through his hair as the bedroom door creaked open. He saw his mother peeking through the crack and rose to meet her at the door.
Angeana peeked only briefly, bringing Orion to his knees as he met her at the door. He shut it behind himself, feeling protective of Noë and her peace from even his mother.
“She’s staying? I mean…she’s…calmed now?” she asked, hopeful he had handled it as it seemed.
Orion gave his mother a quiet glare, urging her to talk and talk quickly.
Angeana wrung her hands. “I only wanted her to have a chance to decide for herself. Your father is so sure she has to do this journey–fate can be changed. Can’t it?”
Orion sighed and hugged his mother as she too sniffled. “The harder you fight and scheme, the faster it comes to fruition. Promise me you will now release its burden and allow it to work as it should?”
Even he had reservations about his ability to fulfil what was asked of him, but they would tear each other apart in the process if they did not accept that things would happen with or without their interference.
Angeana nodded against her son’s chest. She could bear no more losses. “Did she ask you?”
“No.” Orion said gratefully, hearing his mother sigh in relief. But it was only a matter of time until she would. If she gathered all the knowledge left for her and decided she would take this journey, he would have to be by her side.
This journey would be longer and deadlier than any he had ever undertaken before. One he likely would not return from. “If she does, you have Father, Oncinth–Aolis, and the twins.”
“But what about you?” Angeana squeezed him tighter. “I can’t lose you. You're my son.”
Orion hugged her tighter in return. “I know. I am here, mother. I will always be with you.”
To be continued...