The Mortal Soulbinder (Severed Gods, #1)

Chapter XIV: Barikard

Barikard

Barikard and his wife had not spoken to each other since the night of him that he had mentioned the Citadel. That had been two days ago. Since then, memories of their previous life had tainted the air like a stale smell around Barikard and his family, waxing and waning with the rising and falling of the sun. It had felt like a ceaseless, imperceptible fog had been lingering among them, obscuring and smothering all of the love that they had for each other and their courage to speak to one another. If truth be told, they had not spoken of the Citadel since Nissa's death - the death of his lover - so, in hindsight, Barikard should really have expected that to happen. He would do anything to go back to that night and start his life again. With Elle and his children.

But Barikard's thoughts had been preoccupied with what had happened in the forest; finding Halfdan, as frozen and blackened as a corpse by some kind of plague; seemingly bereft of life; the ravaged wolves attacking him; the Elf saving him -- and Halfdan -- without any apparent motive. Still, Barikard was still frightened by that strange lunacy that had seized the animal as it touched Halfdan's comatose body. Whenever his mind wandered back to that night, fear consumed Barikard and he felt incarcerated in a dark nightmare, unable to escape the wolves' terrifying, demonic glare, betraying their intention to kill. He had not felt so afraid in a very long time.

The last time he had felt that scared, it had been when he had looked into Nissa's dying eyes.

The Elf also invaded Barikard's mind. He had not recorded a true memory of her, so whenever he mentally reached out to her face, the image would dissipate, effortlessly sliding through his fingers like torn strips of smoke. For a second he had thought her face to be a clear image, until it soon withered away, reluctantly forcing him back into reality - into the depressing existence were his children and wife were refusing to talk to him.

If truth be told, he couldn't blame them. What had happened in Citadel had nearly cost them their lives - and it had been Barikard's and Nissa's fault.

The night that Barikard had staggered back with the semi-conscious Halfdan, after speaking with Elena, he had been tempted to go out after the Elf. Somehow, the way the Elf reacted to the wolf suggested to Barikard that she knew something about what happened. Perhaps she knew what seized the creature or why it had happened? Or maybe she knew how or why Halfdan regained consciousness again?

Those questions had occupied him the entire night, depriving him of a peaceful slumber. He had even gone as far as gathering his cloak so that he could track the Elf down. But as he went to step out of his cabin he had glanced back. For the first time in what seemed like years, Barikard noticed how small and vulnerable his children were. Their tiny silhouettes were huddled against each other at the far end of the cabin, their small outlines adorned by the moonlight slipping through the ajar window. Their bodies appeared so small and frail and they would be able to perish under the single bite of a wolf. Biting his lip, Barikard had watched them for a moment, not daring to breathe.

If he were to go, then there was a large chance of him not returning. Especially if the wolves were still prowling about and continued to be prevailed by that frenzy. Barikard had even forgotten about his leg wound and had woken both Elena and his children when he stood and howled -- unwillingly reminding Barikard that he was not getting any younger and that he needed to rest, regardless of whether he wanted to or not. So, for that reason, he decided to stay, for the sake of his children -- and Halfdan.

Feeling the ache of his wound bore into his bones, Barikard slowly rose from his chair and limped over to where Halfdan lay. After Elena's endeavour to keep him alive and when his convulsions had finally stopped, she had decided to move him into the room adjacent to the hallway, where a fireplace took up half of the wall. Barikard felt the gentle heat kiss his skin as he entered the room, gently shutting the door behind him; half of him hoped that Halfdan did not hear it, so that he was undisturbed, but the other half wanted to wake him up. But even now, he still did not look rested or healthy. So, as quietly as possible, Barikard placed more logs onto the fire and watched the sparks rise gracefully.