The strength and conviction that flooded her heart was something that Reya had never felt before for herself, and the great axe was buried deeply into the back of another enemy that had surrounded the man who guarded her with steadfast courage. She watched as her boot came up to unceremoniously push the demon off her weapon, and with her next purposeful stride came another victim for the might of her murderous great axe.
Reya wept as steel sliced through demon after demon and when she felt herself fall once more, she prayed that this time she had been made a victim herself and would stop seeing the horrors of this hideous nightmare. Her knee jarred painfully against the ground as she fell and as the breath huffed from her in agony and exertion, she felt the bitterest disappointment that her strong hands still gripped the handle of the great axe fiercely. Even though the battle rang deafeningly through her ears, she felt the instinct that someone had spoken a name that wasn’t hers and as she looked up, she saw the man that had guarded her so protectively. But her vision was fading fast and even as she clasped the gauntleted hand that reached out for her, all she could see were blue eyes that shone with fierce loyalty.
Baldur was jarred awake by the breathless shrieks that ravaged Reya’s throat and in spite of how the immediate haze of disorientation had blunted his sensibilities, his instincts bade his hands to reach for his daughter. At the sight of the grimace that had seized her sweat soaked face into a terrified rictus, Baldur’s clarity snapped into white hot focus and he shot forward onto his knees.
“Reya!” He cried as he clasped her head between his hands, but her lids were still closed and her eyes darted rapidly in whatever horrors her nightmare continued to show her.
Baldur cried out as he gathered his daughter against his chest and his heart hammered at the awful sounds of fear that screeched from his beloved’s throat. He sat upon the bed and rocked her urgently to coax her into waking, but still she dreamed feverishly and Baldur became terrified himself.
“Reya!” He shouted and when he brought her head from the protection of his chest with a scouring of his eyes across her face, he brushed her damp hair from her forehead, “Please, my love, wake up!”
It was always a fireball of guilt upon Baldur’s being that Reya’s torment was borne of his past, and knowing that he couldn’t tell her what was happening tore an unbearable, ragged wound through his heart. All he could do was rock her and stare at her face with a will for her to awaken, impotent in how he just couldn’t protect her from within her dream.
When Reya’s eyes flew open abruptly, her pupils had all but engulfed the violet warmth of her irises and the great gasp of air that she heaved into her lungs was so strong, Baldur feared she would tear herself asunder. He gasped when she jolted upright and as the tears flooded from her eyes with incredible heat, Baldur held her tightly against him, stroking her back with such relief that he felt exhausted.
“It’s alright, love, it’s alright. You’re safe now.” He cooed to his beloved daughter, his mouth trembling at how desperately she clawed his shoulders and wept against his neck.
The tears that rained so freely upon Baldur stained his composure with their desperation and he painfully gulped down the ball of emotion that had lodged chokingly tight in his throat. Reya needed him to be strong for her, he knew, but witnessing such awful pain within his child was almost more than he could bear. All he could do was stroke her back as he held her tightly for as long as she needed him to; a wordless and insipid apology for the awful turmoil his memories forced upon her innocence. But soon Reya’s frantic sobs softened into weak weeping and as the weeping became exhausted whimpers, Baldur pulled back a little and gazed carefully upon his daughter’s face.
Reya had fallen asleep again, entirely exhausted from the rigors of her nightmare; but there was a troubled peace within her face now that spoke of a new dream that was eager to mend her spirit. Baldur gulped in gratitude and as he laid her back down so gently he prayed wholeheartedly – as he had done from the moment her nightmares had begun frightening her so badly – that this one would be her last. He sat back with his hands over his mouth, aware that they trembled terribly in the aftermath of Reya’s screams and he looked towards the window in helpless despair.
Baldur thought of Reya’s mother then and a deep sorrow filled his heart for the astonishing mortal woman he had found a profound love in, how beautiful and strong she had been.
“Ana,” he whispered to the moon that watched quietly from above, “what should I do?”
Baldur’s head snapped downward when Reya’s whimpers heightened breathlessly within her once more and his heart was in his mouth as her head began thrashing from side to side.
“Not again!” He muttered in agony as he frantically clasped her shoulders and shook her uselessly in the desperate hope he could somehow free her from her new, unseen tormentor. “Reya, please, sweetheart! Wake up!” He cried helplessly.
But Reya’s thrashing became insistent and with it came a strength in her arms that fought against Baldur’s hold upon her. He watched in despair as she dragged air into her lungs and held it so tightly within her chest, Baldur feared that the next scream that would tear so violently from her throat would hurt her. He gasped fearfully as Reya’s hands balled into fists that beat down upon the bed as though she battled back an unrelenting foe and when the scream finally erupted from Reya’s chest, Baldur grunted at how it arched his daughter’s back with its strength.
His grunt evolved into an exclamation of shock however when inexplicably, from the centre of her chest, a bright blue light sparked miraculously like the flicker of a flint stone in the darkness of night. Without warning, the light exploded outwards with the flare of a newborn star and with it came a cold heat that burned the air with ethereal force. Baldur flung himself protectively across his daughter’s body and his vision bled into the purest white light that seared through his eyelids and scorched his mind. His ears screamed a high whistle from the pressure that rushed into his head and as he swallowed heavily from the pain of his eardrums, he cried out at the wind that whipped a ferocious frenzy around their bodies.
Suddenly the blinding blue light disappeared, along with the harsh wind that had torn bitterly through fabric and flesh with the sting of a lash and Baldur shuddered from the deathly cold that had chilled his skin with an icy embrace. Through lids screwed tightly shut against the pain the blinding light had brought, he numbly realised that darkness surrounded them now. He opened his eyes in trepidation, unsure of what sight he would see and he gasped in incredulous shock.
Reya lay peacefully in Baldur’s arms, unconscious and loose limbed, but he glanced up in shock at the canopy of the great oak tree that stood tall and protective over them. His breath gasped from him as he cast incredulous eyes along the ground in their garden; there were thick slashes of ice within the grass, his breath misted in the air before him and swirling tendrils of steam coiled and rose from both himself and his daughter. Baldur’s mouth hung open mutely as he returned his astonished stare back to Reya and his hands trembled as he brushed the hair from her sweat slickened forehead.
This time when Baldur held Reya close to his chest, there was a deeper chasm in his heart than the wounded pain of a concerned parent. And within that new chasm came the overwhelming knowledge that his daughter had inexplicably awakened an impossible ability within her that made her even more valuable than the Light of Asgard itself. It was the same ability that he himself had been blessed with by the power of the ethereal planes, a gift that had been stripped from him the moment he had Fallen to this human plane.
A gift that was torn from any planar being that would have Fallen to Midgard.
He rested his cheek upon Reya’s head forebodingly then and as his eyes gazed sightlessly over to the little gate that stood at the threshold of their garden path, he prayed that Tellan’s return would deliver good news. That his sudden apprehension of Belial’s return was the imagination of a fretting father, and not the unerring instinct of an Asgard
ian warrior.
Reya woke to the morning light that played shimmering lines of warmth across her cheek and she blinked blearily as her sensibilities pushed aside the silken strands her slumber had spun around her. She yawned and stretched her arms languidly, but the momentary happiness within her still waking haze was dashed when the crashing memory of hot blood on her hands loomed before her eyes. Reya wrapped her arms around her face hastily, a childish endeavour that tried to dam the flow of images her nightmare burst into her mind, but still they flooded her with drowning horror. She whimpered beneath the veil of her arms and spun abruptly, burying her face into the protective softness of her pillow, but the images wouldn’t stop in their intensity.
Reya bolted upright when a flash of cold blasted through her skin, as deep as her bones and through to her very soul, a sensation that left her aquiver with its alien abnormality. She clutched a hand against her mouth when a wave of nausea rushed from her stomach in sickening strength, and her mad dash towards the window nearly saw her trip and fall awkwardly. As soon as she collided with the windowsill, Reya gripped onto the ledge for dear life and tipped forward in an instinctual arc. Tears blinded her as she purged her nightmare onto the path outside her window, so painful an action that it felt to her as though her very stomach had been twisted tight by an unseen hand. After her body had stopped its convulsions long enough for her to take a deep, shuddering breath, Reya rocked back with legs that shook like a newborn foal and wiped the back of a hand across her trembling lips. She closed her eyes as she sank to the floor with a heavy gravity, exhausted at the force her sickness had wrought upon her body. Eventually, when she felt as though her legs had regained enough strength that she could stand without falling over, Reya pushed herself gingerly onto her feet.
Her mind was distracted as she pulled on fresh clothes, entirely sightless in what she was doing, but Reya couldn’t stop the tick of a nagging instinct that she had forgotten something important. When she finally wandered into the warmth of the kitchen to greet her father however, her worries became dissolved at the sound of Baldur’s low hum that vibrated strongly from his chest. She stopped for a moment and smiled at her father as he sang softly under his breath; the old lullaby he had sung to her as a child as soothing now as it was back then.
Baldur turned with a plate in hand and stopped up short in utter surprise when he realised that Reya stood before him. “Oh! My girl, you startled me!” He cried in surprise.
“I’m sorry, Papa. Good morning.” She said as she came forward and stood on tiptoe to kiss her father on the cheek.
“Good morning!” He replied and his eyes were cautious as he asked, “How are you feeling today?”
Reya’s vibrant eyes dulled perceptibly in spite of the care in her father’s voice, “I…um…” She began in embarrassment and it wasn’t until she drooped her eyes that she admitted, “I was sick. Outside.”
“Oh…” Baldur began with fatherly softness, “That’s ok, love. As long as you’re alright now.”
Reya nodded in response and when the light returned to her eyes as she smiled, Baldur’s heart sang out in gratitude.
In that moment of fresh silence, both their eyes looked down at the plate Baldur still held and even as he awkwardly tried his best in hiding it behind his back with an embarrassed grin, Reya’s own broadened.
“What is that?” She asked teasingly, even though she had already seen the sweet prize that sat upon the plate and knew exactly what it was.
“Uh…” Baldur began and he huffed in laughter at his own silliness. He cleared his throat as he brought the plate back and presented its offering to her with a self–conscious murmur, “It’s a surprise for you. I thought you’d like a fresh honey cake to start your day.”
Reya’s eyes crinkled at the softness in her father’s voice and she gladly accepted the gift he had so thoughtfully given her with a wide smile. “Thank you, Papa!” She cried happily, “They’re my favourite!”
Baldur reached out and pinched her chin fondly, “I know.” He said.
As much as he had been able to retain the sadness from his voice, his eyes exuded it as he watched his daughter carry the plate to the table. She picked the honey cake apart with expert fingers and as Baldur sat beside her, she pushed the plate until it rested between them.
“For me?” He asked.
“Hmm.” Reya nodded happily, for her mouth was already stuffed full of the delicious cake.
Baldur smiled at the wonderful innocence of his daughter and picked up a morsel of the sweet to chew on with far more delicacy than Reya displayed. He watched her as she licked the sticky syrup from her fingers and when she sat back with a sigh of contentment, Baldur turned towards her, swallowing both the cake and his remorse down.
“Reya…” He began delicately.
Reya swivelled her gaze towards her father, her beautiful violet eyes wide and attentive as she asked, “Yes, Papa?”
Baldur smiled at her briefly before he said, “I have another surprise for you.”
“Oh?”
“How would you like to go on a journey?”
Reya’s face opened in a gasp of sheer amazement. “Really, Papa?” She breathed in excitement and she clapped her hands onto her cheeks as she rushed, “Really? Oh, that would be wonderful! When do we leave? Where are we going?”
Baldur tilted his head and raised his eyebrows in amusement at her exuberance, “Well, before we go anywhere, we need to prepare for the journey. So if you like, I’ve made a list–”
“Oh, yes, Papa! I’ll get everything we need, don’t you worry!” Reya interrupted, her cheeks flushed with happiness at this most unexpected surprise.
Baldur smiled grimly, saddened by the naïvety in his daughter, but he persevered with his affected good humour and said, “I’m coming with you, Reya. You can’t possibly carry everything yourself! We leave as soon as we get back, alright?”
“Where are we going?”
Baldur hesitated before he answered, “It’s a secret.”
This ambiguity didn’t deter Reya’s exuberance one bit; if anything it inflamed it and she bounced excitedly on her seat, “Oh it sounds so exciting! Can we go now?”
Baldur chuckled in spite of his trepidation, “Yes, if you like.” He replied and reached into his pocket, presenting a scrap of paper to Reya, “Why don’t you keep a hold of the list and I’ll go and get the purse?”
Reya snatched the list with greedy haste and grinned at her father with excitement. For so long she had wanted to travel and see a little of the world, like her Uncle Tellan; but in all of her sixteen years her father had never taken her outside of Fieldhaven. Now she was going to see what was out there, even if it was just a few miles beyond the town and the excitement of it all thrilled through her body and widened her smile.
When she was at the door, she spun briefly and cried, “Maybe I can tell Uncle Tellan a story of my own after this!”
Baldur sat and watched his daughter bounce away so happily, a stark contrast to the sadness that tarnished his core. And when Reya skipped through the garden fence, he murmured sorrowfully beneath his breath, “I pray to the Light that you don’t, Reya.”
Heedless of her father’s response, Reya waited patiently by the gate for her father to join her, her head already filled with exciting images of the people they would meet and the places they would see. She beamed up at him in unbridled joy when he joined her with two sacks slung across his shoulder – one large and nondescript, the other a small cloth bag – and with one massive hand upon his daughter’s back, he pulled the garden gate closed.
Reya accepted the bag that her father gave her and hitched her head at the large sack he hefted over his chest, “That looks heavy, Papa.”
Baldur looped the leather strap of the sack around his shoulder and as he adjusted the fit of its bulk, he shook his head at Reya’s question, “No it’s fine.”
Together they walked through the quiet streets of Fieldhaven, an enormous smile on Reya’s
face as she read the list her father had given her. Bedroll, blankets, water skins…She read to herself, but she interrupted her own thoughts with another, I wonder what we’ll do? What we’ll see along the way? Won’t Uncle Tellan be so proud!
Her father’s deep voice jarred her from her reverie, “The first thing we should do, perhaps is buy a horse and cart for the journey.”
Reya’s eyebrows lifted into her feather light fringe, “A horse and cart, Papa? That’s awfully expensive, isn’t it?”
Baldur tilted his head slightly, “Yes, but the journey may be long and a horse and cart means we’ll have somewhere to store our belongings.”
Reya cast her eyes thoughtfully down at the dirt road beneath her feet as she digested her father’s words. “Our belongings…” She murmured thoughtfully, “So we’ll be gone a while?”
Baldur balked slightly at his daughter’s astute question, but he carefully kept his eyes forward as he answered, “Yes, my love. We may not be back for some time.”
Reya was suddenly perturbed by her father’s words; it was one thing to be excited at the prospect of travel, but quite another when the security of returning home at any time was removed. But she shook her head at her own silliness: Reya was certain that if ever her father felt that she was upset, he would doubtlessly cancel their plans and bring her home.
When they came to the town square, the air was filled with sounds and smells that always conjured childish excitement in Reya. She had been here a thousand times, but still she always felt like a child at a fairground, for there was so much to see and do and people to talk to. While Baldur set to negotiating prices for the items on his list, Reya busied herself with curious glances towards the many stalls that surrounded them. Some were covered in household crockery, others were chock full of vegetables freshly picked from the farmers’ fields, and somewhere something delicious was being cooked that threaded the intoxicating aromas of pork and rosemary through the breeze. Children bustled and scampered breathlessly among the milling adults like twittering birds, the cries of stallholders punctuated the barks of dogs and clucks of chickens and among it all, Reya was silent and watchful with wide, enchanted eyes. She followed her father distractedly as he made for the busy stables nearby and when he began explaining the better merits of arithmetic to a particularly stubborn horse dealer, Reya drifted toward the horses’ pen. She smiled at the beautiful brown gelding that had trotted up to the border of the pen in curiosity and as she rubbed its nose delightedly, Reya’s instincts twitched uncomfortably.
The Fallen Page 4
