The Dark God's Bride Trilogy, #3 (8 page)

He dematerialized from the small fortune telling shop and rematerialized at the second floor hallway of his home. He folded his hands into fists when he saw the door to their bedroom was wide open. He had locked Amara in their sealed bedroom as a precaution before he left. Seeing it opened was a good indication that something was horribly wrong.

He strode into the empty bedroom and then into the adjoining bathroom and closet. His bride was nowhere in sight. He returned to the bedroom to investigate. There was no sign of struggle, and her shoes were still next to the bed. He checked the lock on the door to see if it had been tampered with, but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. The time-seal he had placed on the room was still intact.

He checked the rest of the mansion just to be sure his suspicions were valid. The servants informed him that they haven’t seen anyone around the house with the exception of the sick woman and the baby.

There was one other way of finding her. Three years ago he had asked the goddess Gaila to bind her to him. The goddess had engraved a seal made of wheat and his blood into her ankle as part of the ritual. To find her, he simply needed to find the seal made of his blood. He grazed the back of his hand with his fingernail to let out a small amount of blood and concentrated on tracing the seal.

But he couldn’t locate his bride or the seal. Panic was beginning to set in.  

Noctis shifted back to the small fortune telling shop. The Oracle was aware that he was back, but she didn’t look up from the white queen in her hand.

“Death has her now,” the Oracle answered the question he had not even asked. “The solar eclipse is nearing. He failed to take her life so he must keep her prisoner in the Realm of The Dead to prevent the event that the prophecy has foretold. That is what I would do if I was in his place.”

“So she’s still alive…” Strangely, he didn’t seem to care about any other details except that she was still alive. The next question he posed stunned the Oracle and startled himself
. “Do you happen to have the directions to get to the Realm of The Dead?”

The Oracle lifted her eyes from white queen in her hand and set them on him. Her facial features appeared stunned, but not surprised. He never knew there were distinctions between the two until now, but he could see the difference like day and night. He speculated that she knew there was a possibility of this happening, but she hadn’t anticipated it to. 

He had once warned his bride that if she died without his permission, he would go to the Realm of The Dead and drag her back to the world of the living. At the time he was saying those words to her, he hadn’t realized how literal he had meant it. He had also promised that it wouldn’t be a pleasant experience for either of them.

“You would go to the Realm of The Dead to retrieve her even when you resent her?”

“I don’t resent her,” he clarified. He couldn’t understand what gave the Oracle the idea that he was resenting his bride. “She is the one resenting me. I did not treat her as I should have…” He didn’t feel like sharing his thoughts with a stranger, or anyone for that matter. He knew what the score was. He didn’t treat his bride as he should have in the past and he was being punished for it every time he so much as looked at her. She would never give him her forgiveness and that was one of the many things he must live without.

He should have done the right thing by her by giving back her freedom. He should have gone to ask the goddess Gaila to dissolve their covenant, but he didn’t want to do the right thing. Everything ha
d its price and he was willing to pay a fair price to keep her chained to him. If he could live without her forgiveness or her love or the warmth of her flesh, she should be able to live without her freedom. He would give her anything that she asked with the exception of her freedom. If she couldn’t be happy by his side then the both of them shall be miserable together. He was even more selfish than he had ever realized and it didn’t bother his already shriveled up conscience one bit.

“Things could end here,” the Oracle said. “If we leave her in the Realm of The Dead, the prophecy will not come to be. If you go to her
—”

“If you
will not help me, I will find someone who will.”

“The prophecy
—” 

“This world
has not meant a thing to me in a long, long time,” he interrupted the Oracle once again. “All I know is that I will not forsake my bride in the Realm of The Dead. Will you lend me your help?”

The Oracle walked toward him and placed the white queen in the palm of his hand. At contact with his skin, she gasped intensely as though air was being sucked out of her lungs. Her light grey eyes lit up in brilliant silver. She closed her lids over them and once she opened them again, the coloring had returned to normal. She stared intensely into his eyes as she closed his fingers over the white queen.

“Remember this, Summit. If you love her as much as I think you do, there is hope for Amara yet.
If
you love her as much as I think you do...”

Noctis furrowed his brows.

“Take this with you,” the Oracle instructed. “It will guide you back to the world of the living.”

“A chess piece?”

“There is a charm inside it. There is also another charm inside the white knight.” She pointed to the white horse piece lying sideway on the ground. “They were created a pair. One would always guide you to find the other. Do you have a weapon?”

“I don’t need a weapon,” he said arrogantly.

“You will not be able to control the time that flows in the Realm of The Dead. Without your power to control time, you are at a disadvantage. It is best if you bring a weapon. Come.”

The Oracle led him upstairs, down the hall, and into the third bedroom to the left. Aside from the floral bed that had a feminine touch, the rest of the room appeared to be an armory housing all kind of weapons.

“My daughter, Athena, made a hobby of collecting weapons. After all, she is the namesake of the goddess of war. See anything you like?”

Noctis had been trained to use wide varieties of weapons at a young age, but he had a special preference for swords. He just hadn’t held a sword in his hand, with the exception of
Ragnarök the Destroyer
, since he used one to gut his eldest brother. It brought back unpleasant memories. He picked up a plain looking blade within his reach and said, “This one will do.”

The Oracle seemed disappointed by his careless choice, but she decided not to voice her opinion. “Very well,” she said and then added, “but there are a few things you should know before I send you on your way. In its true form, the Realm of The Dead is a vast barren land. Even if I can open a portal for you, you will not be able to find what you want to find. You must seek Death himself and ask him for passage to his realm. He
will refuse you, of course. He will try to persuade you to leave. But do not be intimidated. Even if you are powerless against him, so is he against you. Death has no power over the living. You must provoke him to let you into his world. Wager with him. He will be too prideful to turn you down. Once he allows you passage into his realm, you must quickly find Amara and bring her back to the world of the living. Be careful not to let her eat anything that grows in the Realm of The Dead or she will not be able to leave. Death will try to deter you from leaving with Amara. He may not have power over you, but do not ever forget that you are a guest in his home. His realm is his playground. He has power over anything and everything in his realm. He can create, rearrange, and disassemble anything as he sees fit. His world may mirror the world of the living or it may not. Always remember that he is the master and you are the guest.”

“Show me the way,” he asserted.

Fully aware
in a state of physical coma, Amara tried to open her eyes, but her lids felt as though they’d been glued shut by strong adhesive. Her limbs felt heavy and numb as though she had overdosed on sedatives. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t even speak. It felt like one of those bad dreams that she couldn’t wake up from. She couldn’t control the body that no longer felt like her own.

She distinctly remembered that she was lying in bed when she heard an echoing voice calling to her; a voice so powerful and mesmeric that it induced her to a hypnotic trance. She remembered getting up and absently moving across the marble floor on barefoot even though she hadn’t willed her body to. She heard a mechanical sound and then the bedroom doors creaked open to let her through.
“Come to me,”
the voice said.
“Come this way, Amara. It is time.”
She followed the voice down the hallway where the sunlight could not reach. All of a sudden, the wall at the hall was distorted by a mass of energy. It opened a portal with a surface like liquid silver. The voice beckoned her to go through. When she was standing still, resisting, the voice called to her again. Her body moved on its own toward the calling. A gloved hand from the other side took her hand and guided her to the other side.

Perhaps she was having a bad dream after all. She attempted to open her eyes again with all of the strength she could muster. She was surrounded by darkness, dimly lit by numerous candles. She slowly sat up and found herself in a different bed than the one she had slept in. How strange.

The darkness around her seemed to be restless, stirring just beyond her reach. Amara slowly backed against the headboard and stared into the dark, frightened. She forced her body and mind to be on high alert. She jumped when she sensed another presence in the room.

“Who is it?” Amara asked while trying her best to control her rapid breathing. “Who is it?!”

“
You are awake
,” a stranger’s voice responded to her. It was all male, so deep and powerful that it made her very soul shiver.  

Oh god, there really is someone there!
She thought with terror.

“Who are you and why have you brought me here?”

“
Do not be frightened.
”

“I am not frightened!” she lied.

“
You are shaking
,” the voice countered.

She was, she realized. She was shaking like cornered prey. She was not fooling anybody. “Where am I?” She breathed. “I want to go home.”

“
You are home.”

“H…
Home? Here?” 

The weak flames of the candles burst. The light pushed back the darkness around her. Out from that darkness, there he stood. His face was hidden under the shadow of his dark cloak, but even so, she could already guess who he was. She met him before.

“But that would mean…
I’m dead
.” She let the thought sink in and when it seeped through, she felt stranded. She couldn’t go home anymore. She would never get to see her friends and family ever again. She began to panic but, she inhaled a deep breath to control herself.

“
That would have been preferred.”

She shied back when he approached closer.

“
But it matters not.”
He reached for her face with his gloved hand, lightly guiding her eyes to look up at him.
“I do not care if you had come to me in spirit or in the flesh as long as you are here.”

She drew back in fear. He curled his fingers toward his palm and then returned his arm to his side.

“You will grow accustomed to me in time.”

She doubted she would ever be accustomed to him. After all, he dwelled in a mortal’s deepest nightmare. To even speak of him was taboo in some cultures.

“
You must be hungry
,” he said to her. He then placed a basket of various kinds of fruits at the foot of the bed.
“These are safe to eat.”

“So, you
do
realize that I’m still alive,” she jabbed at him.

“
Yes
,” he replied.

“The living
don’t belong in the Realm of The Dead.”

“
Ordinarily, no.
”

“Then, why am I here?”

“
You are here because you belong here. This is your home from this moment forward.
”

“Didn’t I just make the point that I don’t belong here because I’m still
alive
?”

“
You are… special.
”

“How am I
special
?” Amara asked skeptically.

“
I cannot reveal that to you.
”

“There must be some kind of mistake!” Amara cried.

“
I do not make mistakes.
”

“How do you know that I’m the one that you are looking for? How can you know for sure?”

She drew back when he raised a hand in front of him. His left hand removed the glove from his right hand. He reached into the basket of fruits at the foot of the bed and picked out a bright red apple. The apple became discolored and then it shriveled up in his hand. He dropped the shriveled apple and rounded the bed. When the same bare hand reached for her face, she cringed.