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❝ we used to swim the same moonlight waters, oceans away from the wakeful day ❞
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Ghost Love Score by Nightwish.
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☽ ❅ ☾
Meanwhile in Turkish waters...
The silence of the night had been filled with moans of pain, the air that had exhaled salt water now was a deep odor of blood and the pulsing life had given way to death. It was as if a reaper were passing by and taking as many souls as she could with them, snatching them from the breath of life, welcoming them into the tender embrace of Death.
Ragnar woke up in a jump putting his hand on the knife that didn't come off his belt. He thought he was daydreaming as it always was but the screams were real, the rush was real, the chaos was real. He took his sword and ax coming out of the tent and finding a spear coming toward him. Ragnar turned away from the weapon and stuck the blade of the knife into the throat of one of the guards, the camp had been attacked, and Ragnar had never felt so much desire to shed blood as he felt at that moment.
"ROLLO!" Ragnar shouted, warning the brother of two guards behind him. "Ragnar, come back to the tent now!" Floki shouted too "You still have broken bones"
A roaring noise from the boats made all present stop to contemplate the immense mass of smoke and flames erected by the dark sky of the camp and then, in a frustrated and angry sigh, Ragnar decided to do something that would disturb him more than he was already at which happened in Wessex. The Viking King lifted his ax and went out eliminating all who were in front of him, ottoman soldiers and people of his people, which made Rollo and Floki take time to believe what they were seeing.
"What are you waiting for?" Ragnar shouted again "You can judge me later but now I need you"
Rollo was the first to react making use of his ax to open a way for the people towards the woods, slaughtering Bonir, Aenir and other battle brothers. Ragnar and Floki soon joined him, hiding in the stones of the mountains, keeping silent. A real open massacre happened before the eyes of the three and nothing is more painful for a viking than being powerless as they were at that hour.
When the killing had ceased hers symphony, Floki, Ragnar and Rollo returned to collect the bodies of the brothers with the silence of death hovering over the place, hot and aching tears escape the oceanic eyes of Ragnar and he can then let out what was stuck up until so. The sound of battle crying wouldn't come out of his ears any time soon, breaking Ragnar's heart deeply, the muffled sounds of crying constantly pressed against the cloth of his blue robe.
