A Whisper to the North

Chapter LXVII ✠ The Last Thorn

Una rested there with the body of Njord before her. Like so many before, she sits in their blood. Njord's blood seeps through her white dress. The blood, crimson as the darkest blood moon, radiated from the wounds in his body. The largest being the wound he inflicted as he protected Una with his body. This was an act he was proud of, hoping that all the ones he had betrayed in his life would see this one selfless act, and thus perhaps he would be forgiven.

Where Una felt hatred in her heart for this man, it was replaced with sympathy. She knew that she was following his footsteps, and she saw what it could do to the ones she loves and the entirety of her kingdom. He was the example of her future if she chose to follow her sword and not her truth by nature. Una's truth was benevolence. Her destiny was artificially changed when she forced herself to bleed others to avenge her family, but now she sees that she must avenge herself from herself. This would be her final fight with Yvar. He was the only person Una ever really loved, but she could never come to this conclusion until she had been with so many others. Now Yvar, like Una once was, was blinded by the illusion of vengeance.

Yvar only saw king Cynan, Una's father, the one that he cried tears of joy when he learned of his untimely demise. He couldn't see the paths before him, how this path led him off a cliff. He could see, yet his self-inflicted wounds so blinded him. This wound was carved into him by doubt, ignorance, and his self-fulfilling prophecies. If he had only believed Una the first time, when he was young, that they would be together forever. He let his status as a low-born Dane eat away at him until there was nothing left but the bare bones of his old spirit, what was left of it. Like Una, his heartbroken at such a young age made him physically healthy but mentally inept when it came to the discretion of the greatest good for themselves and others.

Like Una, Yvar, too, decided that the path of destruction through blood was the only path to self-salvation. Una can see now what that imperious notion had created, a divided kingdom. In all the time Una was plotting her revenge, she could have been establishing peace instead of making a name for herself. Her name was synonymous with the evillest, most destructive, and most deadly beings in the mortal world. She earned the title of monster, of snake and dragon, of the Celtic beast of Snowdon. Like the mountains she used to reside in, she let her feeble emotions build a wall around her, protecting her from reality.

The veil of ignorance she created by being jealous, angry, and unforgiving is one that ultimately led her to this moment. She could have healed Yvar long ago, but now he stands before her, with a sword pointed at her. Wilona will give the command words to him at any given moment, and he will lash out to his very breath at Una. He is unaware of the dark magick that consumes his body, for rage and possession give the same euphoric high. He will feel no pain, and he will not back down. He will take out the only thing that he ever loved. He will never realize it till Una is dead, and only then will the spell be broken.

He will only see Cynan until he is satisfied with his agony. He could give Cynan a quick and merciful death, but Yvar has been suffering from self-pity and hatred for so long. Cynan must suffer as much as he had. What Njord was to Una is what Cynan is to Yvar, only Cynan is not back from the dead. Yvar is in a dream state, where his mind has been tricked into believing that everything he sees is real. He has no notion of his death in this state. He is alive so long as his heart is consumed with the anger that keeps him alive in his mind. If he could forgive Cynan, he could forget about him, and he would cease to exist any longer.

Una bent her head over and stood up slowly, almost slipping on the pool of blood beneath her. She grabbed her sword off the ground, the sword that was supposed to be plunged into the heart of Njord. However, now that sword will be used to fend off the man she loves and never once hated.

"Whenever you're ready, Wilona." Una hissed, looking up to meet Yvar's eyes.

"What have you done to him?" Una cracked as she saw his vacant eyes.