Destined Path

Chapter Twenty-Seven; Mágoa

Hi Everyone!!! Wattpad FINALLY let me upload this chapter after MONTHS of their 'review'.

So much of it had to be cut out and changed. I hope you love the end result. 

Thank you all for all the love and support!

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Alexan

I never had a strong faith in the Gods, not in any solid religious sense. I knew they existed, I spoke to them here and there, and I did whatever my mother instructed me to, listened to stories about them before bed. Yet, I never thought them really to dictate my fate or pave my life for me, it always seemed within my control, following along with my needs and desires. Onyxia lived through her Gods, she prayed to them, made offerings to them, communicated to them, and lived passively to whatever was placed in her way just on the thought that the Gods put it there for a reason. I once found her devotion to be just another amusing fleet to her, but now I wish and regret. There was no possible way to accept that I have spent enough time with her for her to have been taken away. Nor will I leave this place until she is in my arms again.

It had been three days, the men were restless to move on. After I flooded the hard soil with the blood of many Vikings that my wife may have once been kin to and friends with, I had thought that the anger will leave. Yet, it hasn't. It made me angrier. They were people she knew. That she ate with. Trained with. Played with. Laughed with. They had hunted her. They planned to harm her, betray her. Kill her. The lack of loyalty sickened me.

The disgusting pit of sickness settled in me and hasn't left. Waiting for sun up hadn't helped, the cliffside was an impossible drop, the dead solider was a red spatter bellow. No Nyx. No Logan the dog. There was deep sea next to the drop were the Viking scum had flattened, but it was littered with rocks. If they hit them, the sea would've washed away any blood or evidence. My mind was soo full of grief that the night it happened I could swear I could head soft howls and whimpers. Somewhere in my distorted mind I knew, I knew, her dog had lived and was... somewhere. Besides the howling, I had most certainly heard a horse. Sabe had too, even though she won't say it. Overhearing her talking to Duscha, she had said that the fish catches often had paths leading to the sea, but weren't accessible from where we are. That if there was a horse, it would have had to walk a while, and walk a while back. I knew that bloody dog, it was a bizarre looking fiend, but it was Nyx's dog. That dog wasn't going anywhere without its master. Yes, a drop like that, a few broken bones, cracked ribs, maybe damaged leg, a dog could die overnight. Not Logan, I reassured myself, not her dog.

We had to move, but I made sure it wasn't too far that she couldn't find us, just far enough. I didn't bury their men, I left them dead on the ground for the crows. They don't deserve respect or ritual. As we moved I questioned the women; getting only an edited version but sufficient. Lucifer had gone home in a rage, he lasted until half into his dinner, well deep in drink. He couldn't stand the chatter, Sabe translated, everyone was talking about her and it made him furious. It had started with a shattered glass against the wall, a slam of his fist to a table, and the rape of a maid. A display, she said, to demonstrate to his people that they no longer had a princess, because she was tainted and turned by a rutting savage. Me. Only I couldn't say with conviction that I have ever brutally raped my wife. Nyx might interpret it other ways, so I stayed silent had didn't fall for bait as Sabe wanted.

Instead I listened, knowing that Nyx wouldn't have a clue about any of this. Her brothers' were away, well the twins, the younger one was injured. Queen Bellatrix had locked herself in her room, her son as guard, and her daughter with Nyx's handmaidens and her own in a neighbouring room. He had forced himself on his fifth wife multiple times before beating her so badly she couldn't breathe through her nose anymore, and was left twitching in her own blood the floor. Poor Bellatrix, I thought mournfully, she was a good woman. Truly. The sister was missing they said, and her elder brothers' were in hiding. Her youngest brother, they whispered, was dead. Broken neck, strangled until it snapped. He was raving mad, they kept saying, raving mad. Insane with anger.