Although the blood in his veins ran cold, the water swirling around him was so frigid that it still hit like pin pricks against his skin. He was glad to discover he was strong enough to fight the current, battling against the river demons as he kicked himself forward towards the castle wall.
He struggled to keep his head above the waves, the deluge of icy water from above making it difficult to see. The water stank of refuse, its pungent odor choking him as he continued to propel himself forward until he nearly collided headfirst into the wall. Fortunately, the stones that made up the castle were unevenly laid, making it easy for him to grip and hoist himself up out of the thrashing channel. He scaled the tower without difficulty, grateful that the splattering rain had not yet turned to ice. He found the closest window and threw himself into it, landing on the castle floor with a thud, broken glass following closely behind him.
He paused to catch his breath, picking the embedded particles out of his skin. The keep was eerily quiet in comparison to the war raging outside, the steady drip of condensation the only sound echoing throughout its halls.
“Hekate? Morrigan?” David’s voice shattered the silence as he stood. He shook the water from his hair, the droplets that dampened his skin catching the musty castle air. He checked to make sure Radu’s sword was still in place, relieved to discover that it had stayed with him through his watery journey and hasty ascent.
Outside the castle, the battle racket raised in intensity, letting him know that his idea to use the upended spikes had proven itself worthwhile. He quickened his pace, still unsure how much longer he had before Lucius discovered he was still alive, climbing the winding staircase to Morgana’s quarters two steps at a time.
The keep was neglected in her mental absence, roses withered in their vases, a thin film of dust settled on her hanging collection of avian bones. He followed the path to her bedchambers, his anxiety building at what he might find. His senses had instinctively heightened in response, but his nose picked up nothing unusual, only the scent of Morgana, her telltale clash of rustic cedarwood and lavender still lingering throughout the halls.
He reached her door, steadying his nerves as he opened it.
A woman in a stained nightdress stood at the open window, the frosty evening air lifting her tattered clothing and threatening to extinguish the low burning candles that surrounded her.
The room was painted red, a pool of it darkening the center of the bed. Soaked linens lay in heaps at the floor, and David found himself once again piecing together what tragic event had transpired in Morgana's bedroom. The acetic bite of human blood dominated the air, but there was something more, something distinctly pungent. He inhaled sharply, realizing it was henbane. He knew instantly—Hekate was dead.
Morgana turned from the window, her face a malnourished mask of sunken eyes and dry lips. David did not hesitate, rushing to where she stood and gathering her against his chest. “I am too late,” he managed in a confusing blend of disappointment and relief.
Morgana was relaxed in his arms, the dual entity apparently being controlled by her stronger half. But when he pulled her away to peer into her eyes, they were tarnished brown without a hint of Morrigan’s telltale blue.
“Hekate was unable to complete the task,” she explained, observing his bewilderment. “Delicia’s mind has long gone, her body an empty shell. I possessed it to care for my niece as she unexpectedly gave birth. You can rest assured that you speak now to the Morrigan.”
David felt relieved now without the nag of guilt, grateful that she was still in control. Before he could help himself, he grabbed her face, kissing her ardently on the mouth. He was disheartened to discover that she tasted of decay, a hint that her time with him would be brief.
“So, you remember me now?” she asked softly, responding to the kiss.
He choked back his rising emotions. “I remember you.”
She smiled weakly and laid her head to his heart. “I cannot stay long,” she murmured as she wrapped her arms around his waist.
“What happened here? Has Hekate passed?” David asked, caressing her hair.
“Here,” she lifted away from him, placing her hands where her head had laid. “I can show you.”
In a heartbeat, David was able to see them together in the room as if he’d leapt backwards in time. Hekate, alive and still with child, sat behind a cauldron of noxious liquid, herbs strewn about the floor around her, situated amongst sleepily burning candles that dripped pools of wax on the stone.
The cluster of crows she’d just summoned fell away, leaving a scowling Morrigan behind. Her hair was cropped, its waves unkempt behind the corvid diadem that interrupted her icy eyes. The muscles of her tattooed arms bulged with tension as she gripped her spear with unabashed irritation. “You dare,” she hissed.
Hekate stood, looking relieved despite the war goddess’s mood. “It should not have to take that much for you to come to your own sister.”
“You are not my sister,” Morrigan scoffed. “My sister died a very long time ago. She was my twin—I felt it the instant she was gone. You are simply the result of a poorly hatched plan by her and Lucius.”
“Come now. Why be so cross with me?”
“After my death, I was able to see your true nature and all that you have done. You deceived the Council, convincing them you were on the side of righteousness while you and your brother murdered your entire bloodline, including your own mother, to ensure absolute power.”
Hekate shrugged. “I have my reasons.”
Morrigan snorted. “Oh yes, I am sure you feel very resolved in your selfish motives.”
“Oh, as if you are absolved of selfishness,” Hekate retorted as she gathered up her ingredients, tenderly placing the delicate herbs back into her apothecary box and snapping closed the lid. “Did you forget how you left me behind while you frolicked about the earth with Osiris while Set, your true husband, rotted away in the Underworld?”
“Stop acting as if you are her,” Morrigan demanded. “If you were truly my sister, you would remember his crimes and why we banished him there.”
Hekate put her hands on her hips. “Whether you wish to accept it or not, I am her reincarnation. You might have forgotten me during my abandonment, but that does not change the true nature of my soul.”
“I did not abandon my sister!” Morrigan sputtered. “She chose to stay on earth. How could I have possibly foreseen that my memories would be taken from me when I rose to earth?”
“Even if it was not intentional, Nephthys, it was abandonment just the same. First Protector, indeed,” she said with a snort. “And furthermore, Set is not the creature you believe him to be. He regrets murdering his brother—it was a crime of passion. You were the one who betrayed him, leaving him behind. In fact, running away seems to be a common theme for you.”
“So that is your intention—to force me to be with Lucius? That plan has never worked for anyone.”
“Sister, you must understand that it is your and Osiris’s love that has shattered the balance of earth,” Hekate softened her tone. “In order to restore it, you must return to Set, the one who loves you above any other.”
“I am not your sister,” Morrigan asserted, her voice reaching a poisonous intensity. “Might I remind you that Isis became Set’s consort, the reason that you are even alive holding his descendant in your very womb?”
Hekate sighed, running a hand over the swell of her stomach. “Yes, this is true. It was my idea that we have children together, planting the seeds in his mind so he could feel as though he figured it out on his own. It was the only way to ensure my heka would remain safe—dispersed amongst my daughters. But believe me when I tell you, I have long accepted that Set actually loves you, just as I once accepted that Osiris felt the same. Unlike you, I do not require adoration from any male, nor do I need another being to fulfill me.”
“If your intention is to upset me, it will not work. You are simply affirming what I already know—that you are not my sister. She understood and respected my love for Osiris when we lived in Egypt, she even watched over my sons. In fact, I should tear you apart for desecrating her memory.”
“Had I known that the love between you both would threaten our realms, I would not have accepted it,” Hekate maintained.
“No one could not have stopped it. Even we could not.”
“Nephthys, Osiris knows his history now. I told him everything. He does not search for you; you mean nothing to him. He loved a mortal girl named Gaia and his love died along with her. You must abandon this need for his affection—you are a goddess above all else! Osiris and I will remain on earth, as it should be, to fix all that has been broken, while you and Set return to the Underworld, taking your proper place as the guardians of death.”
Morrigan laughed at her. “Anubis would never let that happen. He guards the gates against my forced return.”
“Oh, do not fret, I have thought of everything. I plan to put you back into the body of Delicia, then formally end your life. Anubis will think you are her. As for Set, I let him believe that David was dead, then I brought him back to life in secrecy. David will end his life, since that is the only way that we can ensure he is delivered to the Underworld for Anubis to guard. Hopefully, there you will reconcile.”
“If you wanted what was best for Set, why take him away from the earth that Isis brought him back to?”
Hekate sighed, a look of dismay settling over her features. “This earth does not serve him well. The longer he stays here, the more tormented he becomes. He started this life a seeker of wisdom and truth, not some power-hungry warlord. What he has become is disgraceful. Humans are not meant to live so long in one body. It has poisoned him.”
Morrigan shook her head in disbelief. “You speak to me from a high pedestal, yet you betray him. And she who you consider to be your sister.”
“Nonsense. I am taking control of that which is mine. Heka is mine, giving life is my gift. I am the mother of this world, and as such, I must restore its ma’at and put its shattered pieces together again. This is why I had to consume all power, so that none of you would be able to prevent my doing so.” Her face was smug, satisfied by her plan, when unexpectedly, the expression crashed. Fear flashed across her eyes as they widened, water trickling to the ground from between her thighs. “Oh no...it is not yet time…” she groaned. She reached her hand between her skirts, lifting it up to reveal a coating of bright red.
Morrigan rushed to her side only to be blindsided by Delicia, revived by the scent of such powerful blood. She tore at Hekate’s throat before Morrigan could pull her off. Frantic, Morrigan’s apparition quickly resumed its place inside its former vessel, halting the attack, but Hekate already lay in an unconscious heap on the ground.
David found himself breathless as the vision faded, realizing his hold on Morrigan had tightened. He let go to face her. “Did Hekate survive? And what became of her child?”
“Hekate is dead, Isis’s bloodline is no longer,” she assured him.
Before David could press her further, she leaned forward to kiss him, filling his mouth with her taste. “I will miss you so much,” she sighed as she pulled away. “I am starting to believe that this is just my life—an endless yearning for that which I cannot have.”
“Wait—” he began, before he sensed Lucius behind him.
He turned to see his nemesis covered in shining armor, the black panels shielding his entire body save for his head, an ornate dragon carved into his breastplate. He nearly dropped his sword and helmet in surprise, beholding Morgana standing before him. “It worked?” he said, hopefully. “She brought you back?”
Morrigan narrowed her eyes. “Your plan failed. I possessed her body of my own accord, one final time, so that I can speak to you both before I return to the Otherrealms.”
“Both?” Lucius suddenly realized David was in the room. “You!” he growled in recognition, but before he could lunge, Morrigan waved her hand, freezing them both in place.
David searched her eyes frantically, realizing that not only couldn’t he move, but he also could not speak.
“I am sorry it has come to this, my love,” she explained to him sadly. “But I have no time to bear witness to another one of your fights. When Hekate died, I absorbed her power for myself, which I intend on taking with me.” She shifted towards the window, her bare feet gliding on the floor.
David tried to summon any power he had to move, but it was of no avail. The invisible chains the Morrigan had wrapped them in held firm.
“After I died, I entered our Upperworld and my every memory was restored. My days as Nephthys drifted back, my long, happy years as the Morrigan, my most recent days in this rotting prison of flesh. And as I paused to examine my life, to fully understand it, I realized there had always been two constants.” She faced them. “The two of you. I realized that I cannot have one of you without the other, and that all this—eons of chaos and pain, battles and strife—all come down to one great flaw. Me.”
David felt his insides screaming.
“I am the reason the two halves of the Great He cannot reconcile, I am the reason the scales of earth have tipped into instability, I am the reason my sister’s soul has been fragmented and lost forever. I tell you this not to invoke pity, it is just the simple, clear truth of what is. I am tired of being fought over, tired of this world.”
She approached Lucius, placing her hands on his chest as she looked into his eyes. “My Set, I can never love you the way you need me to, but your fire will always burn in my veins. Even so, know that you will never possess me. No matter how you try to manipulate the world around you, I will never be yours. You must abandon this game, for if you force me to play, I will always win.” She placed her lips against his cheek and pulled her hands away, pulling along with them tendrils of fire. She was robbing him of his powers.
She placed her hands on David in a similar way, and he immediately felt the extraction of energy. “You may keep what was given to you by our sons, but I will need back my crows.” She smiled sadly, pulling wisps of black smoke from the hole she’d opened in his chest. Then she cupped her hands around his face, kissing him, long and firm. When she pulled away, Delicia’s eyes had turned to a sparkling blue, boring into his. “Horus will look after you,” Morrigan said. “Do not search for me. I must take my leave of you again, this time for good.” Although her words were resolute, he watched tears well around her eyes, threatening to spill. “I love you more than I ever thought was possible, and yet, I know we were never meant to be.”
He could hear the winter wind screaming outside, knowing it was he who stirred its squalls. It nearly drowned out the sounds of men, battling beyond the river that ran below the tower.
Morrigan drew back to the window as if responding to its call. The frayed, blood-stained dress she wore fluttered around her. Her raven hair followed suit, its waves rippling in the crisp air. She turned her head slowly to look at them one last time. “Do not come after me.”
And with that, she jumped.
It only took a few moments before their invisible bounds dissipated, David racing to the window to observe Delicia’s body smashed on the rocks that carved out the river below. Both Delicia’s and Morrigan’s souls were free.
He fell to his knees in disbelief.
She was truly gone.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed Lucius had also collapsed to the floor, holding his head in his hands in similar torment. When he looked up, the whites of his eyes were like coal, his cheeks streaked with inky black tears. David found himself trapped in a moment of compassion for him. He had never seen him look so distraught, his arrogance melted away by heartbreak, his gleaming golden eyes snuffed out by the tragic curse that was immortal weeping. It occurred to David in that moment, that she was just as much his weakness as she was David’s. “We do not have to fight this war,” he said quietly.
Lucius did not respond, his head falling back into his hands as he gripped fistfuls of ebony hair. David felt a sudden, unusual shift in the air. He rose to his feet.
“She took all the power…” Lucius managed.
“She does not want us to fight,” David continued as he approached him. “We can put this feud of ours to rest, for her.”
“Hear me!” Lucius screeched, catching David off guard, his overwrought expression, painted in black, terrifying. “She took the power that kept me human!”
David scrambled backwards, realizing what he meant.
Warmth began to steadily rise around them as David flattened himself against the wall. He had never witnessed a transformation like the one that now befell the unfortunate soul before him, staring in perfect horror as Lucius’s armor fell to pieces, his skin bubbling and popping as it melted away to reveal leathery black scales, his skeleton distorting its shape and bursting cruelly from its confines. Smoldering heat strangled the room as gnarled wings ruptured from his back, stretching up towards the heavens, scraping the ceiling as it lengthened beyond human proportion.
The floor beneath them began to tremble as it struggled to maintain the immense weight of the creature rapidly expanding within its hold, the beams loosening as crumbling limestone rained down from above. A wayward stone landed on David’s shoulder, breaking him free of his paralysis. He edged towards the open window as he watched he who was once a man of refinement and splendor fall victim to a merciless metamorphosis.
It looked directly at him, opening its jaws to scream, David face to face with the abominable creature from his dreams. The recognition jolted him, causing him to fall backwards out of the window just as the daemonic dragon let fly its torrent of fiery breath.
* * *
David hoisted himself out the rubble, his head pounding and dust in his lungs.
Somehow, the tower had managed to fall in the same direction of the extended drawbridge, David saved from a similar fate as his lover and instead landing on solid ground. In the distance, the war held on, expired bodies cluttering the menagerie of gargoyles that Lucius had once filled his courtyard with. They were in their element among the contorted corpses beneath them, bringing life to their exaggerated grins and bulging eyes.
The human calvary and infantry had long since retreated, the battle now creature verses creature clashing together in a growling culmination of metal and bared teeth. There was no holding back amongst the combating creatures, who swooped and dived as each tried to gain the upper hand against their opposing equals.
David knelt, his freshly bruised and battered body provoking a wince as he searched the crumbled stone and brick for his sword. He knew it wouldn’t be too much longer before the beast rose from the collapsed tower, if it had survived the fall.
Without warning, a sword whizzed past him, narrowly missing his extended arm. He ducked forward, missing another forceful blow, Dragos striking without reserve. David groaned, his body still working to mend itself from the fall. “I suppose this means you are the traitor,” he flatlined. “I should have known.”
Dragos did not respond, his eyes cold behind his armored helmet. He took another purposeful swing, this time, the blade nicking the exposed part of David’s arm. “I warned you to wear armor,” he said, matching David’s smug tone.
The beads of black rising from his skin brought David back to life. He leapt to the top of the highest pile of wreckage and swooped down to knock him from where he stood. Dragos’s helmet fell from the impact as he hit the ground, revealing eyes and a grin wild with exhilaration. He laughed, thoroughly enjoying the confrontation.
Weaponless, David reached around the fledgling blood drinker’s throat, but was unable to impede his joyful laughter. He gripped tighter, his entire being tensed with exertion, trying to render him unconscious, when Dragos abruptly slammed his fist into David’s unprotected chest, grinding what felt like razor blades into his skin.
David fell back with a gasp, realizing the gloves that covered the creature’s hands were welded with silver, silver spikes extending out from between each finger. The wound he’d left behind was considerable, David heaving for breath as blood gushed from the torn flesh. Dragos retrieved both his sword and helmet without rush, knowing he’d incapacitated David well beyond immediate repair.
David grew dizzy as he tried to stop his rapidly seeping wound, searching frantically around him for a weapon that could hold off his opponent before he had the chance to make it worse.
Dragos came closer, flippantly twirling his sword. “Do not despair, Great David. I only meant to slow you down. Lucius would never forgive me if I stole his kill. In fact, I am in charge of someone else, someone I was hoping would be near...” His taunting proved prophetic, for mere seconds after he’d trailed off, Danulf emerged, his dual axes slicing through the air without mercy. They connected with their intended target, Dragos swept off his feet in one swift blow.
David could now stand, the hole in his chest mended enough that he no longer poured blood onto the wet earth. Noticing he was weaponless, Danulf tossed him one of his axes. David caught it easily, enjoying the feel of the leather wrapped handle and the heaviness of the blade. From memories long forgotten, he recalled a similar feel to his hammer, a weapon that would one day be referred to as the Club of Daghda. He met Danulf’s eyes as Dragos struggled to his feet. “Dan, he was the shadow for Lucius.”
“That explains a lot.” Danulf wiped a lick of sweat from his brow.
Dragos finally reached his feet, but did not attack, instead sticking two fingers in his mouth, pulling out a shrill whistle. From all ends of the courtyard, the surviving nemorti paused in mid-battle to turn towards the sound. Dragos casually moved out of the way, deriding them as hundreds of nemorti suddenly hurtled towards them, as if controlled by unseen forces, their weapons at hand.
Danulf and David braced themselves with axes raised. “Are you ready for this?” Danulf asked him.
“No, but at this moment, I am too exhausted for fear.” He tightened his grip on the axe.
“Bah, we are immortal pagan gods from the lands of old. They should be the ones to fear us,” Danulf pointed out as he took a couple of practice swings.
“Still, I would feel better if we had your wolf half right about now.”
“That would help,” he agreed. “But I am not only a varcolac and blood drinker,” he said as the mob drew closer, “but I am also a Viking.” The final word passed through grinning lips as the first wave lunged at them, Danulf annihilating them easily with a few skillful weaves of his axe.
The rest of the swarm followed suit, and after some time, David and Danulf fell into an unintended synchronicity of movement, their quick but savage butchery unfolding in thundering unison. The nemorti fell pitiably to the ground in droves as the two primordial warriors invoked their innate brute strength to slaughter them all, one by one.
It wasn’t long before David looked up to see his warring partner completely drenched in blood, finishing off the last pitiable soldier with a celebratory battle cry. Danulf then turned towards him with a triumphant smile, his bright blue eyes and metallic teeth glowing eerily against the oily black that covered his face. “Good fight!”
David shared the sentiment with a nod, then paused to assess his surroundings. Not only was Dragos nowhere to be found but neither was the dragon Lucius. He frowned, taking a moment to rest his over-exerted limbs as he surveyed the courtyard.
“I do not see him anywhere, either,” Danulf muttered as if he read his thoughts. “In fact, the whole damned army has deserted us.” He was right, it seemed the only bodies left were those that littered the ground. “I should go after the traitor,” he suggested.
David nodded. “And I should find Lucius.”
“Do not lose my axe. I will be coming back for it after I kill him.”
The two took leave of each other without prolonged ado, grabbing each other’s forearms, as in the ancient practice, before going their separate directions.
The courtyard was quiet save for the pitiful moans of dying creatures. The sleet from earlier had ceased at some point during the battle, leaving the sky cloudless and bitter cold. The remaining pieces of a once magnificent fortress interrupted the exposed moonlight with its jagged frame, casting irregular beams over on the grim scene below.
Exhaustion pried emotion out of him, grief settling over him like a gentle snowfall. Even if Lucius was still alive, he was no longer the man he’d once known, memories of their happier moments in life slowly drifting by in his mind. Like many of their homes throughout the centuries, the castle was a source of pride and joy for Lucius, the Wallachian fortress the one he cherished most. Watching it crumble slowly into the Arges marked the end to life as David had known it for many years.
His morbid reflection was interrupted by trembling earth, accompanied by sounds much like the forewarning of an avalanche. David struggled for balance as he watched the dragon uncoil from the stormy waters of the river, plumes of steam rising along with it. Its golden eyes held on to David’s as it unfurled its massive wings, shaking the water from its scales. When it had completely risen to its feet, it was taller than the castle it had destroyed, tightening the muscles of its arms and legs as it opened its mouth to shriek its hateful flames.
David rolled out of the way just in time, his refuge a pile of discarded limestone. A flicker of metal caught his eye, revealing Radu’s sword lodged between the rocks. He retrieved it as the shaking ground escalated in violent fervor, the creature finding its footing on land. Fear taunted him as he gripped the weapon close. “I invoke whatever powers may be, that I might be aided in this fight,” he whispered.
The shrill cry of crows piercing the air in response was all he needed to gain back his confidence. He withdrew from his hiding place prepared to fight, when suddenly, he was jolted by the sensation of his back being sliced into two. He realized wings had sprouted out of his back, his body humming with a new energy that was so intense and pure that it caused him to shudder as they unfurled behind him. The skies had also responded to his appeal, torrents of wind beginning to whip around them.
The monstrous creature made its way onto the dry land where David stood, but when it opened its mouth once more, David leapt into the sky in flight, missing the scorching stream and landing right on top of its viscous back. The battlefield below was now entirely ablaze, the sweeping flames swallowing up the vestiges of war, ensuring nothing was left behind. David felt as if his body was not his own, driven by power that transcended anything he’d felt before. It was as if he vibrated with the souls of every creature that was or had ever been, his mind an orchestra of lions’ roars, bear growls, and eagle calls. He felt them all—animal, bird, angel—gripping Radu’s sword with him as the dragon frantically tried to shake him off. With one unified thrust, they drove the metal straight between the shoulder blades that wielded its massive leathery wings.
The dragon howled in agony, finally able to toss David from its back. But David’s wings caught him, allowing him to hover in the air not far from where the creature began to thrash, powerless to dislodge the lethal metal from between its back bones. The mountains began to crumble with its panicked movement, taking along more chunks of the castle as they fell into the raging waters below.
David watched as the earth suddenly cracked open, not far from where the dragon struggled and fumed. Sulfuric heat rose up from out of the widening split, swallowing up the corpses and debris as it inched closer to the dragon’s taloned feet. Soon the blistering steam was joined by hundreds of skeletal creatures crawling out from the depths, as a horrific rendition of Anubis leapt out over them all. He landed squarely on the smoldering earth in his divine manifestation, the vicious jet-black jackal with glowing eyes and pointed teeth, savagely curved claws radiating from his hands. He stood vigil amidst the flames as the daemons of Tartarus scuttled forward to collect their master, their nails popping into its scaly black flesh as they dragged him backwards.
The dragon that was once his beloved companion howled its wrath as it fought fruitlessly against them, severely weakened by the caustic silver searing between its shoulder blades. David flew to the apex of what was left of the castle, captivated by the struggle unfolding before him, watching as the hideous creature that had once struck such terror in his young soul fell helplessly to its death, the all-powerful earth swallowing its prey.
Anubis caught David’s eyes before he jumped in after it, restoring after many eons, the dark gods of the Underworld back to their proper place.
And then, all was still.
The ground smoothly sealed itself as David flew to the ground. He felt the borrowed power drift out of him as he landed, the windstorm giving way to a calm snowfall that drifted sleepily down from the sky. It extinguished the last stubborn flames, the scores of nemorti and their megalomaniac creator, gone for good.
Radu’s sword fell from his hands with a thud and David followed, suddenly overwhelmed by fatigue. A single crow fluttered down to where he lay, carrying Morrigan’s diadem in its mouth. It dropped it before him, scolding him with a squawk.
“Alright, I will keep moving,” he replied weakly, pulling himself up to his feet.
The crow followed him as he shuffled through the charred remains towards the village. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught two bodies folded atop each other, both of which had narrowly avoided incineration and were now collecting snow.
He nearly cried out when he recognized the tattooed flesh of his friend, his wounds so deep, there was no question that he had died in battle. He pulled his broad body off a dismembered Dragos, setting him down flat on a nearby snowbank. His face looked peaceful, white flakes building on his silver beard and eyebrows, giving him the look of a slumbering snow god. David removed the axe he had kept at his side and joined it with its mate, crossing his friend’s arms, an axe in each fist.
He fell to one knee. “May the Valkyries find you in this strange land and carry you swiftly to Valhalla,” he entreated in a low voice.
The crow cawed for him to move on.
He rose once more to his feet, his limbs throbbing as fatigue weighed him down. He reached the edge of the village and froze, finding himself unable to continue forward. While he knew the humans would be grateful to him, perhaps even honoring him as Radu finally took the throne and restored them to a peaceful existence, he feared that all it would do was remind him of that which he’d lost, cementing the grim, unsettling truth that he was now entirely alone.
The thought of an eternity of solitude finally drove him to collapse, his exhaustion victorious, rendering him unable to move from the pile of snow where he’d fallen, despite the crow’s protestations. He stared up at the white and black speckled sky, sighing as the flakes kissed his cheeks and trapped themselves in his eyelashes.
The crow sounded far away now, its pitch revealing an urgency he could not address. David closed his eyes, picturing Morrigan’s face, watching her dance amongst circling flocks of crows.
“It is not time to give up quite yet,” a gentle voice brought him back.
He opened his eyes to see Libraean standing above him. As grateful as he was to see him, he found he had no energy to speak.
“Do not worry, David,” he assured him. “I promised I would look after you, and I intend to do just that.” With a grunt, he hoisted David onto his shoulders, careful not to stab him with his blunted wings.
David made a mental note to thank him, thinking of Morrigan’s brilliant eyes, Lucius’s goblet, and Danulf’s banter, teasing him for passing out yet again, before he gave in to blissful, well-earned rest.