Fate and Destiny (The Fated Series, #2)

Chapter 22 - Fauna - Víđarr

No one is here. Will left me lying on the ground and I can't go to sleep lying on my back, so I'm wide awake.
I've always felt tired, always felt like my body was going to soon shatter to pieces from the pain. It's gotten better – managing the pain. Moving still hurts, being touched still hurts and it's not just Will. Laying down has my body sending needles everywhere that it comes in contact with the ground. Having been rubbed and pushed against it wasn't helping, but I didn't cry. It's hard to cry when you have no tears to shed.

It hurts for my chest to rise and fall, hurts every time I swallow to try and wet my dry throat. Water sounds nice, but it'd all just come shooting back up seconds of me swallowing it. My stomach is like that with the pain. It hurts to feel something finally filling it, and it hurts to not be able to give my body more than just the suffering I'm putting it through, but it's not time.

I remember most things. I remember the people in my life, the ones I brought into it, and the ones that were forced into it but still felt like a gift from the Gods.

I curse the Gods. Curse them to enjoy the last days of their luxurious existence because after I get out of here and deal with Xaxias, I'm going straight to Helias and forcing him to bend to my will. He'll help me take down the others who pull our strings like puppets, and then when that's done, he'll be next. Leaving even one God is too dangerous, but no one said there couldn't be one last living Goddess.

I know why I'm here, and though I can't remember the last time I saw daylight, I know that it's near the time for me to leave. Lance and Darius and everyone else are going to want to chop off my head, but I can handle them. It's ruling a kingdom that has my mind racing. I don't know the first thing about ruling – let alone leading people. Lance was the one who grew up learning to one day lead the Jades, not me. Sure I trained and somewhat led The Bhaltayr, but I was in my comfort zone then. I knew the formations from past experience being someone's temporary guard, and the training was just recalling my father's lessons.

Darius can rule, that much was obvious even before I started to get to know him. Sure I thought him a pain in my ass, but that was just me poking him to see if there was any sign that he'd be a cruel King. He passed my test, always responding with a sort of kindness, even when he'd pick on me himself or call me names. He was always friendly with it. The proof of his legacy lies with the three orphans.
Gods I hope Sibella got them and Melody out. The orphans weren't even a question, so far as keeping out of danger wise, and I long decided to save the mare the day I met her. I told Darius as much, so he can't really say that I didn't warn him about my decision.

I'd let Darius do all the work in ruling Thralia if I wasn't sure he'd stay in Fernweh. Sure, he's got two younger siblings who can rule Vandaria, but the sooner Neven lays down his crown, the better. The people of Fernweh won't wait forever, and Darius has long since become of age. Then again, he doesn't have a Queen to be at his side, and I highly doubt the people will be pleased to see an assassin sitting on that throne. They all know who I am, what I've done, and who I portrayed as being for cycles. They saw how Neven didn't blink when I pulled out my Ebonies, so they know that both the King and Queen knew of their son's affair.

I hate thinking of myself as another one of the Crown Prince's whores, but if only they knew. If only I had known before I made my decision. I wanted to back out the second I knew, but things had already been set in motion, and I was helpless to do nothing but keep it going. It broke me to have to break more than just myself, and I've been shattered ever since.

I don't feel as I used to, don't see anything but faded light, and every now and then, a flicker of yellow. My body doesn't feel like my soul's filling it, and it's for that reason that I close my eyes and call upon the one thing I can trust in a moment like this. A promise.

Just when I think that my promise has finally let me down, I tightly turn my head to the side to find two golden eyes staring back at me. I'd smile if it didn't hurt, but I still feel my eyes glisten slightly at the sight of another friendly face.
Víđarr is lying down, his head settled upon his large paws. Without me having asked it, he crawls forward until his nose is at my waist, and then slowly, gently, he slips it under my back. Víđarr's touch is the only one that doesn't hurt, and it's for that reason that I called him. Not even the healer has an effect on me.

He carefully turns me onto my left side. I try not to gasp when I move my arm beneath my head as a pillow. It's painful, but it'll be gone soon enough. I hear his soft footsteps, my trained ears tracking him until he once again comes into sight in front of me. He settles down again, this time right up against me so that his whole left side touches my front. The pain leaves at his touch, and I nearly cry at the relief it brings to me. My stomach still feels funny, but considering I haven't eaten, I'd say hunger is the culprit.

He uses his nose to nudge my right arm and I grant his wish and lift it before setting it back around the back of his neck. He's smaller than he should be, but he's always smaller when he comes in here – that is, at least, when I remember that he exists. I only recalled the promise I made long ago a short time earlier than now, and I've been using him to keep me from falling over the edge since.

Sometimes I believe that I'm the person I once was, but then I look into these golden eyes, and I remember how they remind me of the fire I miss having near me. I remember that there will never be a part of me that won't miss Darius and even my shit of a brother. Lance has always been the thing to keep my feet on the ground, but Darius...he gave me a reason to fly. Literally speaking, he's my second half, holding the two elements that complete my own. Figuratively speaking, he's my better second half. I'm the rusted, old, and dark side of the coin, he's the clean, polished, and shiny side. It's like fire and ice, north and south.

I can't imagine seeing him again. I can't say that I'll fall to my knees and cry my eyes out at the sight of him, and I can't say that I will run into his arms and hug him as if it's been decades. Having been locked down here, it could've been decades for all I know. I know that I'll grip Lance as I once did when he came back from Kaweth. Katarina, I'll likely get a beating from, but I'd be happy to get a black eye only to get a hug and gossip update afterward.

The Bhaltayr will probably be the hardest to see second to Darius. I literally threw them out. I mentally laugh about it now, but it's true. I forced them to leave, not letting them fight alongside me because I was afraid of having to watch them fall one by one. They were strong – are strong, – but against a dark lord who killed innocents without a second thought, I couldn't risk it. It was better if they stayed away and kept training with Lance rather than ending up dead. I needed them alive – I do need them alive, and for that, I'll probably cry hysterically at the sight of them.

I say I'll cry. I say I'll laugh and smile and be this person who feels, but the truth is, I can't even remember how to do such things. I've sat here trying to get a tear to fall, but nothing comes. I try contorting my face to smile and eyes crinkle – and it happens, but there's no true emotion behind it.
If this is what you'd call broken, then I'm nothing more than crippling ruins. There's only a part of me that thinks it could be possible to feel again, but then that other missing half says it's impossible. It's hard to believe the former when the latter has far more control. It's hard to stay strong when all you want to do is break, but I know better than to give in.

Víđarr's head shoots up, his eyes locked onto the door. Someone's coming, which means he has to leave before they find him. "Go," I whisper to him. "You know where to go. So go."

He gives my cheek a small nudge before standing. The second his touch leaves my own, my body once again fills with unrelenting pain, and I have to bite my lip to keep from screaming. The coppery taste of blood fills my mouth and I know better than to swallow it, but I do it anyway. If I throw up on Will then there's an extra bonus for having a weak stomach.

Víđarr is gone, the door opens, and I try to hide the vigorous shaking that my body is doing from the rush of agony.

"I haven't even begun yet, darling," the demon croons.
I make another promise the Gods can't ignore. I'm going to kill that demon.