A Whisper to the North

Chapter LXVI ✠ The Last Fight

Una stood there staring at Yvar and the Guards possessed with Wilona's last attempt to end her life. It was apparent now that Wilona had changed her mind about keeping Una alive since Yvar confessed himself to Una. Now Yvar stood there with a sword in hand, pointing at who he thought was Cynan. In Yvar's mind, it all made sense, the way a dream makes sense until one is awakened. Yvar was asleep, but he was awake.

"Yvar, don't listen to her!" Una cried to Yvar as she clenched the grip of her sword.

"It's no use, Una. You see, they are not under my control any longer. The spell will only be broken when they finish what I showed them. The guards see the enemy, and Yvar sees your father. Until both of you are dead, there will be no waking from their walking sleep." Wilona laughed as she walked over to King Amon.

"Wilona, you are a fool!" He shouted at her.

"No, father, you are! Why are you so persistent at wanting to protect Una? She is our enemy!" Wilona laughed.

"She is our blood!" Amon snapped back.

"If you had let me do this earlier, we could have killed Marchosia before that whore left us to rot!" Wilona said.

Suddenly, Amon struck Wilona across her face.

"You are out of line!" He hissed.

"No, you are." Wilona clenched her jaw and started to utter words.

"You dare defy me with your Magick!?" Amon shouted.

"That's the thing, father." Wilona laughed as the guards looked up at the King, realizing that another Dane was in their illusion.

"You insolent child!" Amon shouted.

"Do not mock me, father. In a word, these guards will come after you, so tread lightly with your words if you wish to live. Right now, they are in sort of a dream paralysis where they step forward." Wilona laughed again.

"I always knew you wanted this crown for yourself!"

"Oh, no, father. It was Marchosia who deserved it, but she's dead, and she's a traitor just like her whore daughter."

"Silence!" Amon begged.

"There's one crucial reason why Marchosia was born a woman and Una. As women get older, our magick grows stronger, whereas it gets weaker in a man. That is why you cannot break my curse on you now, father. I will become the new supreme ruler of Bryttania with you gone. You played right into your own demise because you were too foolish to see that history has repeated itself. That's why my mother died. Her magick was too strong for her body. She didn't know how to contain it. Marchosia was strong enough, just like you see Una now. Killing her is a favor, father. She will eventually grow too strong and wipe us all out. You are too weak to be King. Let me rule so I can put an end to the tyranny of our family." Wilona said, turning around and walking to the far wall.

"Sometimes, that requires sacrifice." She grinned.

"Wilona, no!" Amon shouted.

"Kiss him with death," Wilona mumbled.

The guards suddenly charged, sprinting toward King Amon, Njord, and Una.

"No!" Una cried out as she took her sword and cleaved down many guards.

Njord grabbed one of the swords that were slashed out of a guard's hand by Una.

"I'll get these on the left!" He cried out, running toward them and cutting them through.

Amon grabbed his own sword and tried to fend himself off. His sword was enchanted, but it couldn't protect him from the strength of Wilona's magick. She had given them unbeatable power. Their strength was ten-fold compared to moments before. Wilona looked on with contentment as she watched her father struggle to fend off the men. Even in his elder age, he was still powerful. It was Marchoisa who inherited his physical strength, and it was passed to Una. Marchoisa's mother inherited her dark power, which was even more potent in Una but hidden away.