Fated for War - Book 1 - Destroying Fate

The Second

He was in darkness.

It surrounded him like the waters of Poseidon's realm, as though chains clung imaginarily around his ankles and kept him below the surface where light could reach. He seemed to float aimlessly around, unable to see anything but the midnight black that swallowed him whole.

He had felt that before, the helplessness, not only during his year of captivity with no escape, but also because he had experienced this dream before.

So, he waited, the discomfort and anxiety slowly simmering beneath the surface and flowing in his veins, but he waited nonetheless. Before, he would struggle, fighting to break free and find some source of escape, shouting until his lungs gave out or trying to move in a way that would break him from the seemingly permanent suspension in space, in air.

But now he knew better, staying there, fighting the urge to struggle and roar out his frustrations and simply waiting.

Waiting for her.

She would come, she would come and stare at him with her haunting eyes, speak with her haunting voice, near enough for him to touch, but for some reason, he would never be able to. He would stay there, paralyzed, able to do nothing but stare and stare on as she stood before him with a calmness to stand in stark contrast to the war brewing within him.

Till then, he stayed, trapped in Erebus' realm, unable to escape Nyx's darkness as time seemed to pass so slowly it nearly stood still.

Part of him wished that he was able to calm down, to enjoy the small moment of peace compared to his daily life of strife and chaos. Peace? What was that like?

That very word stood against him, a towering condemnation to something that radiated from his very bones, seeped into his very being. Yet now, waiting, he found a small, minute part of him longing for it.

Maybe because it was what he saw in her eyes whenever she looked at him. Haunting yes, because while bearing no condemnation in and of themselves, they held that peace, that calm and patience that sentenced him on their own.

Then she came.

He heard no footsteps, no ruffling of clothing or deep breath. She simply appeared, dressed in a cloak of darkness like Nyx herself.

He had once thought that she was Nyx, but they told him, assured him that she wasn't. And he believed them. Nyx caused fear to him and the others, fear and awe.

He wasn't afraid of this woman, he was seduced by her, entranced and frustrated to the core all in one, and he didn't know how to react to it.

Her eyes. They were such a dark shade of brown they sometimes looked like the pits of darkness themselves. But instead of pure darkness, a halo of light, of glowing, royal blue surrounded the iris. She held not only darkness in her eyes, but light as well. Life and death in a glance.

And she was calm.

This stirred something in him, something that wanted to claim her, to disturb her peace and corrupt her in such a way that would make her into him, that would make her his.

But he was paralyzed. Maybe she knew, maybe she knew his urges and intentions, maybe that is why she paralyzed him.

"Enyalios."

It seemed as though the chains materialized in the darkness, yanking him backwards as he tried to lunge at her. Something in the way she said that name, his name. It filled him with something he couldn't explain, caused him to see red in a void of black and trigger a catalyst to impulses he rarely ever controlled.

She was forcing him to control it.

Control. She had full and total control over him, pulling the reigns on his desires, chaining him back from acting on the lust and anger that took over in her presence. She was too powerful, had too much of an upper hand.

He hated it.

But he knew what was coming, he knew the only other word that would be uttered from her lips before he was torn from this prison of darkness, and tensely, he grimaced, pulling against the cold hardness of the chains as she moved to stand right outside of his reach.

Her eyes hypnotized him, sucking the fight and struggle right out of his pores and leaving him weak, defenseless. "Wait."

Barely above a whisper, a soothing hum of a voice like honey that flowed into his ears. But then the violence began, tearing him from the blinding darkness to a blinding light.

His eyes shot open and he jumped out of his bed, naked and furious as his chest heaved with breaths he didn't know he had been holding back.

Wait.

Night after night she ordered him, commanded him with the softest of tones to wait. And Morpheus informed him that he had no other choice but to do so. He was at her mercy, unable to beg, unable to fight, just to wait like she told him to.

A maid ran into the room, most likely startled by the vase that had toppled to the ground from the stand that had shook once his feet hit the ground. She, doe-eyed with fear, took one look at his body before her eyes darted to stare at the ground instead.

"My Lord?"

He nearly snapped at her, finding it bizarre when he took a deep breath instead, rubbing a hand over his worn face and exhaling before he responded much softer than he had intended originally. "I didn't call for you, go."

His tone was calm, but nonetheless she still feared him, bowing quickly and darting out of the room as quickly as she had arrived.

Wait, she said, wait.

Until when?