Omphalos (Hiccelsa)

Chapter 33

"War..." Ophelia murmured to the wind, "Oh, Odin, it's really begun, hasn't it?" She didn't expect an answer, but there was a warm figure by her shoulder and when she turned, she saw Calder stoically standing beside her.

"It has." He agreed with a solemn nod, "We're all ready to go." He sighed, pressing his fingers to his sockets with a long exhale.

"If I had gotten there sooner..." Ophelia's lips were dry, her hands shaking, "If I'd read those signs better."

"No." Calder said firmly, "It's not your fault. It's not your fault at all." He said, and although he didn't specify, the darkened look that he turned on his brother now sporting a shiner from Gustav said it all.

"He admitted it was his." Ophelia's shoulders slumped weakly.

"Begging all of us to help for his mistake." Calder's lips pulled into a scowl, "Not that we wouldn't. Jor is one of us, but Odin-,"

"It was still partially my fault too." Ophelia insisted. Calder gave her a peculiar look, and then his expression softened.

"If that's what you claim, I'm just as guilty. I asked you to follow without interference." He pointed out. Ophelia gave a dry scoff.

"You're still under the impression I listen to your orders, aren't you." She said, raising an eyebrow, "Let's go. Gustav looks impatient and any moment we take more could be another moment she's tortured."

Calder gave a deep flinch, and looked out to where she was looking. "Yes, it's now a war. And we might have been foolish enough to look for it." He said as he walked back to the main loading area.

"If we all survive," Lyal chuckled, hearing Calder's thoughts, "We'll be the wisest Vikings around. Would give going on a mission to find your enemies before they reach you one star for entertainment. Defiantly advise against."

"All you all do is talk!" Gustav snapped, bringing his dragon up into the air, shouted down, "Do none of you care about Jor at all?"

"I agree," Ull said, pulling his dragon up, "I got her into this mess, I need to get her out, but I can't do alone. We need to go, guys." There was a frantic tone to his voice, a need for a rush that scared Ophelia.

"You're the one that got her into this mess in the first place, you-,"

"Gustav!" Calder said coolly, "Name-calling won't help. But you're both right. We should go." He said, and nodded and everyone brought their dragons into the air with a swift practice they'd all become used to.

The flight there was filled with a deep anxiety that twirled and twisted in Ophelia's stomach, like a ball of yarn that was impossible to untangle, tied around itself so many times that there was no end or beginning to it. The thought of Jor bleeding somewhere, or already dead, wouldn't leave her mind. She tried to console herself that this was the worst-case scenario, but even that was hard to believe.

There were worst things than death.

They touched down on the far side of the island where Ophelia had first landed Achilles. By the time it took back and forth to the island, the day had cooled and the sky had turned a shade of darkness like black ink spilled across a piece of paper. There were only a few flecked stars in the sky, not even a constellation recognizable under the heavy billowing clouds that shaded the moon.

"It's perfect for an ambush." Randolph said with a nod to the sky, "Gloomy, but perfect. They won't see us."

"Or we won't see them." Sigrid pointed out, and beside them, Fulla shivered. It sometimes scared Ophelia to realize internally how young they all truly were, and one of them could die tonight. Just like that, a snap of the fingers.