Chapter 16—ANGER AND TEARS
Varg had heard stories that these monks had tried to change his father’s viewpoints. But the man had no patience to learn and killed the men within their own buildings. He also remembered his own account of nearby villages that his own had traded with. Hearing about the One True God, who was all knowing and that everything happens for a reason.
Varg sighed inwardly as he sat down, facing a fire before him. He was facing his inner ghosts for the first time in many years. No one has ever given him an answer of why he was able to turn into a monster that was able to scare people.
He only had gotten one answer from his mother once, ‘All I know Varg is this. Your father can change and so can his own father, along with the father before him.’ He could see her in tears; the day she told him everything, five years after his own father had disappeared. ‘Something known as the sins of the father. The same thing that the monks had once said to us before your father had gone off on a warpath.’ It was the last time his mother was able to talk to him so freely.
Varg Drake found himself in his wife’s hut, the one person that he was terribly angry with. He had just heard that his beautiful wife believed in the God that his father had raided and destroyed the monasteries of a group of people who called themselves monks.
Once Varg found himself away from his inner thoughts, he asked, “I should ask Lyra about the ‘Sins of the father?’”
Lyra was the one person who was not afraid of his Wolf-Dragon form. But knowing that she believed in that One God upset him. Then, a thought came to him. Would Lyra's God have rules for his people to follow and that one of them was to stay far away from the likes of him?
Then, another thought came into his mind. His Druid grandfather had told him that it had taken his mother a while to get to know the real man of his father. But wondered why it had taken a short time for Lyra to not be afraid of him?
While Varg was deep in thought, he noticed that Carriage had wandered into the hut and sat down across from where the warrior leader sat. “You need to forgive Lyra, Varg,” the older man said tiredly.
“Why should I?” grouched out the angry man.
“Because—” The Druid gave the younger man a glare. “—you still love her.”
Varg sighed, his face facing down and his fingers in his messy hair. “Why didn’t she tell me?” He glanced up, fingers out of his hair, causing his hands to fall down. “WHY DIDN'T SHE TELL ME, Grandfather?”
Carriage saw the pain within his grandson. It was the same look that he had seen with his daughter’s husband, back when the man asked for the help of understanding for the woman he loved: the Druid’s daughter.
A sigh escaped his lips. He was getting too old for these things. “Don’t you remember that she came from a place that we have no idea about?” When he got a nod, he went on, “Just for a moment, imagine how she might have felt about being in a place that was far different from her home that no one can fathom.” He saw what he was looking for—understanding—and drove even deeper. “How would you have handled it if it had happened to you?” The Druid took a moment for the ruler to see in his mind. “Would you have done the same? Hiding your real self and live life as much as you can until the right moment to speak clearly?” Carriage closed his eyes for a moment, hoping he knew what he was doing. When he was able to open his eyes, he looked into his grandson’s sorrowful eyes. “I know I wouldn't be able to.”
The Viking war leader groaned as he has gotten up onto his feet, half of his face was in shadow while he paced back and forth. Varg was deep in thought, thinking about the woman who had become his wife. The very woman who may have stolen his heart. A heart that he had once believed never found a love worth loving. Varg felt restless. He wanted to fly and head back towards his village.
The leader made a sound worthy of a man with a world upon his shoulders. “I’m going to head for home tonight, and I should be there before morning.” He looked towards the man who had watched him grow up. “I want you to gather the others and start heading towards the village in two days.” He started heading for the door. “I will be making plans for the clan to move northwards towards the Highlands.”
“What about your wife?”
Just as the door squeaked open, Varg said, “By the time the five of you have reached the village, I shall have an answer for you.”
Carriage shivered from where he had been sitting. He had not heard the deep dark sound of his voice in ages or seen the determined look that was just as dark. The Druid gave the younger man a nod, as he saw Varg walked out of the hut.
He heard the sound of his grandson’s boot as the man walked further away until the sound was even harder to hear. After two minutes or so of nothing, a scream-like howl made it known that Varg had turned into his other form. Then, a moment later came the sound of flapping.
“I’m getting too old for things like this.”
***
Lyra was standing out in the night. She mainly was out there to think but also enjoying the breeze that was playing in her brown hair. She had noticed Varg from a distance and saw that his transformation before he took flight. Once she could see no more of the Viking ruler. She closed her eyes, trying to fight off the tears and the pain she was feeling.
‘Am I the reason why he’s leaving?’ Tears were leaking out of her closed eyes. ‘Is being Christian that bad?’ Then, a thought had come to her. The Templar's had it bad; they were burned on October the 13th, and it happened on a Friday. “Oh, no,” gasped Lyra with an uneasy feeling in her stomach as her eyes shot open, looking all around her.
She was afraid for her life but saw no one. ‘I should have told him before the wedding. But there wasn't really time to do so.’ At this moment, she was starting to hate Thor, the Norse Thunder God who brought her to 836 A.D.
Lyra felt her mouth wanting to toss what little food she ate. Her skin feeling the uneasy feeling of crud and dirt from not only from nature. But also, from realizing that she may have married a man that might not want her around anymore.
Lyra forced herself to breath, ‘I need to think logically. THIS IS NOT logically.’ Once her mind was cleared enough; she decided to go for a walk, ‘Hopefully no one will follow me.’
As Lyra was walking away from the bitty village that she had helped make. Not paying attention to her crunching footsteps, upon the bush covered the earth. When she was far enough away. Making her way more inland as she was making her way around trees, underbrush, and rocks.
The terrain was rich in vegetation. Seeing the plants grow taller than anything that she had ever seen before. This caused her to believe that there was a rich water supply nearby.
Her mind began to wonder, ‘Does the island get a lot of rain?’
She glanced up to see if there were any clouds. But saw none in sight, just the blackness of space and the bright lights of stars. Nothing like the ones back home, for there many more than she had remembered. She sighed in content, as she continued with a crunching sound of her feet.
‘What about the fairies?’
This caused Lyra to stop within her tracks, ducking down. Drawing out the dagger that she had been carrying. The very one that Varg had given to her.
‘Or even the pixies?’
“Stop it,” Lyra scolded herself as quietly as she could. “Stop thinking that way.”
‘Or something else entirely?’
This caused a trigger within Lyra’s head as she remembered a poem that she had read at least once, called Mystic Things.
In the mystic days When the land was never won Where kings and knights Fought many wars.
Lyra kept on walking; while the poem came into her mind, just like a file had been uploaded for her viewing. It was a great poem.
People believed, they’d seen Magical creatures Who are no longer known For they have extinguished, throughout the years.
The young woman wanted to laugh at that. It was the people's belief from the world’s past. That wanted the creature's powers and looks what they have done. Kill every one of them off. Just so they could have the powers that the beautiful things.
Dragons, for they are powerful and strong Not knowing their true strength With one single breath Could bring a fiery end.
She knew that Varg was powerful and strong, but knew he was not going to hurt her; then again, he was. He was hurting her because he had left, and she believed that she may not be seeing him anytime soon. Lyra’s heart was still in too much pain to even try to look forward to the future at the moment.
Unicorns, known for their single horn Seen by those Who are pure and true For they bring peace throughout the world.
“I wish I could see a unicorn,” whispered Lyra in wonder. “I have always like pictures or sculptures of them.” She looked towards the sky. “It made me feel that I could believe in magic again.”
Griffins, one part eagle The other part lion They have been known for hunting people With their long, sharp claws their prey does not have a chance.
She hoped with all of her might that she would never see any of those. Even though she hardly ever heard of them being around. Except for the paintings, statues, and songs.
Phoenix, a bird of fire Who rises from the ashes Who also hides on shields and walls, for the legends tells us so What a wise and wonderful bird.
Lyra had heard that they were once guardians of warriors and heroes. They would have even taught them the ways of honor and respect. Phoenixes even engraved themselves upon their warriors’ shields, just to act as extra eyes.
Fairies, small people with wings Seem to know everything From seasons to nature But full of so much mischief.
During the 1940s or so, a couple of girls from England had theirs taken with a few fairies. But it was hard for Lyra to believe that there were a few of them in the world. She wanted to cry; not just from the pain that she had found herself in, but the hope that she had. She wanted there to be more to the world than empty fantasies. Like the make-believe of fairies, unicorns, but there were dragons.
In the mystic days These creatures seemed to rule the world Now they are longer known But in our dreams and books of legends.
Lyra realized that she was in the days of what people had once believed, that it was the time of the mystics. Yet, she saw only one of those creatures from the poem that she was able to remember. The creature happened to be her husband. The young woman sighed as she wondered, was she going to see another of those creatures soon. Or was she going to live out her life without knowing any more than what she did?