The Old Gods

Goodbye

Zorya felt ashamed by the fact that she will have to bring her dead brother to her parents, she felt that she disappointed them, she didn't protect her family, and she still had enough courage to swear to Yaropolk that she will protect their lands from the Christians. But how could she protect them, when she wasn't able to even protect her own brother on the battlefield?

Her hands, still covered in her brother's blood, were shaking constantly making her want to tore her skin away. The blood of her brother was there, and he was no longer by her side.

Everyone was so quiet as they carried their dead with them.

Boris looked so angry, so broken, Zorya was almost afraid of approaching him, she knew that Boris felt responsible for what happened today more than anyone. She wished she could hug her brother, but he seemed so far away from her right, he seemed like stranger to her, in his grief and rage.

The tension was raising as they heard voices of the people who were waiting for them.

"Boris..." Zorya tried speaking to her brother but he simply ignored her, he didn't even look at her, making her feel so alone in her sorrow.

The children ran outside to greet the warriors, some of the woman waiting at home run to look for their husbands and children that participated in the battle.

"Boris! Zorya!" Their mother called them as she started running towards her children. Her face was pale, and her eyes were sad, she didn't hug them, she didn't ask anything, just stood there looking at them in horror, she knew that something was wrong.

"Where is Yaropolk?! Where is my son?!" Vadim asked looking around.

Everyone became silent.

The prince was dead.

They made way for the parents to approach the body of their dead child.

The disturbing scream of the mother who just saw her eldest son dead echoed through the air making everyone shiver. Mira hugged the body of her son pressing it to her warm chest, as if she was expecting that her son will come back to life and warp his arms around her.

The old pagan king stood there in horror, and his old was slowly shattering into the pieces.

"My boy...My poor boy..." He mumbled as his own voice was betraying him.

"I am so sorry father, please forgive me." Boris barely managed to say.

"No my son, there is nothing to forgive, the gods have decided his fate and you could not do anything to change it." Vadim said to his son as he managed to slightly smile. He walked over to his wife and touched her shoulder.

"Tonight, we will give our dead the glorious funeral, we will make the biggest fire, the gods ever saw! And we shall continue to fight and avenge our dead children!" Vadim yelled.

People silently went to the woods to collect the birch and oak, which were considered as the holly trees of God Perun. It was believed that a big fire can help the soul to reach the kingdom of the dead, the soul went to the sky, and their bodies were given to the Earth as their ashes were buried together with gold and weapons of the dead. After the fire ritual called Trishna was preformed where people danced, sang, darnk and ate. But tonight, people were too exhausted for something like that, and another battle was too close.

Zorya didn't even had time to wash her hands, she run into the wood as her wolf followed her. She quickly started collecting the wood as she was trying to distract herself, and get away from her family, ashamed to even look them in their eyes.

That night, she felt like a ghost, like she had died as well.

Soon she watched the flame that burned the body of her fellow warriors and her brother.

"It is not your fault. Not yours, not your brother's." Mira said as she approached her daughter.

"Mum..." Zorya barely managed to say.

"I love you, no matter what, and I am happy you came back from the battle." Mira said hugging her daughter and allowing her to break with tears in her arms.

"I am sorry....I am so sorry..." Zorya said.

The fire burned making the cold, sad hearts feel warm that sorrowful night. The wolf of the pagan princess howled as he said goodbye to the souls of the dead that were leaving to Vyray, never to come back.