Chapter 88

Bathal was standing in the open room, nothing more than pillars and walls around an open roof, the sunlight pouring down, casting in the chamber in a soft, golden light. The battle destroyed everything, ruining the West Wing.

As he looked down, he realized that there was a glowing radiance. And the source of the light did not come from the sun.

There was a woman standing in the middle of the chamber, smiling and crying. The shadows behind her were chains from the ruler of the Underworld, saying that her soul is about to be delivered to the judges.

It was the messenger of the Spirit of the Ram.

In the folds of the Shadows and chains, nothing could be seen but her beautiful face. Her soft features and the ethereal glow on her golden hair.

Yet, he had known, perhaps instinctively, not because of her presence. But it was the soul of his mate.

“Galathea?” Bathal’s voice wavered, at the sight of his mate’s soul. Being beyond grateful was an understatement, he was so grateful that he was shaken to the core.

“My love…”

And there it was, her beautiful voice. It was rich and vibrant, pitched soft and low. And it held a strange timbre to it, a strange melody in her words. She regarded him for a moment and then stared at his eyes.

“I’m glad the spirits heed my cry, to see you one last time...”

Bathal approached her almost instantly. His breathing was heavy and tears fell from his eyes freely. He wasn’t given the chance to mourn for anything. And he wasn’t given the chance to Celebrate his love and the birth of his son. For such a happy day turned into something so dark and grim.

As they embraced, Bathal transformed to Beltza. Three souls exchange their sorrowful goodbyes.

Bathal did not expect that he would be able to hold Galathea. As he had her in his arms, she seemed to radiate a strange warmth that seeped into his skin, warming him and easing the ache in his bones. “How could I ever make it up to you?” He cried. “You gifted me a son, and yet… I — I…”

“Hush now, my love. For it wasn’t your fault.” Was Galathea’s answer and her voice seemed to emanate from the depths of that darkness. And when Bathal and Beltza were given forgiveness, his whole body shivered and all he could do was let out a howl and pour out his tears.

In a moment, though he didn’t know how, Galathea was disappearing before him. Even as she spoke, he knew she was smiling. “You take care of our son, love him forever for me.”

She raised her hand and stared into his deep sad eyes, caressing his face for the final time. “When the time comes, my hands will hold yours till the end of time.”

Bathal’s eyes were fixed upon his beautiful mate. “For thousands of years my soul had rested inside and was blind. Waiting to return, and hoping to see you the moment I open my eyes. To be able to hold you in my arms again, Galathea. My love, my soul.” He paused for a moment and then he lowered his head, shaking it once more. “I thought I would never feel you again, never hold you again. I am grateful for this chance”

“Finally, you see me, my love. And I see you.” Galathea says, before she completely faded away.

“Galathea… my Luna.” Bathal paused, all choked up as Beltza howled and shifted back, returning inside his human. His eyes, longing, pained yet thankful. “...thank you for letting me see your smile again.”

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Luntian paced towards the West Wing, minding all the broken stairs and dogding the stones that falls from the roof of the said Wing. The moment she took the final step and entered the door, the old Shaman struggled to catch her breath for she was not young anymore.

"My King." She called. "Alpha Bathal." The Shaman called again. "I'm here to tell you that Prince Calleb is still asleep and Accashia is resting next to ---"

Luntian stopped speaking when she felt a familiar soul appear beyond death. For Galathea was a Luna blessed with the gifts of serenading the Spirits of the dead.

The Shaman witnessed a scene so serene and calm. Yet what she see in their soul was all chaos, and seeing Bathal's unstable spirit made her feel qualm. But Luntian knows Galathea as well. She knows that the Luna can calm the storm inside her mate's soul in a touch, in a whisper. In a touch she could dispell the anger inside the King and hoped... Accashia would be able to do such a thing for Calleb as well.

After the spirit of the Luna disappeared. Luntian cleared her throat and hastily wiped away her tears. "Alpha Bathal." She called out her name. "Your son is still asleep."

"No movements?"

Luntian shook her head. "Nothing."

Bathal sighed and wiped the final tear that escaped his eyes. Finally, he looked at the Shaman and gave Luntian a sad smile. "Take me to my son." Was his soft order. "I want to see him, and I want to see the girl."

"Of course." Luntian answered.

Bathal and Luntian went down the ruined but steady Castle. They pace to see the sleeping Prince, and his Luna, Accashia.

"I don't understand one thing, Luntian. The both of them have the mark of the crescent moon. They should be untouchable. Their bond should be able to deflect any spell, and curse thrown against them..." Bathal paused then asked. "Then why is my son still trapped in a spell?"

"Well it happened to you to." Luntian snarked. "It can happen when a spell is powerful enough. And mind you, the spell was delivered by your poisonous claws. His body was already weak when the spell of Abbadon entered his body. You're lucky he's still alive."