Chaos God 6, page 8
part #6 of Chaos God Series
“The altars came apart easily and without trouble,” Emneth reported. “We lost a fair amount of personal items under that bastard, though.”
The short-haired elf rolled her red eyes as she gestured back at the frost giant’s corpse.
“Nothing too important, I hope,” I said.
“The most important thing is the lives of our people,” Emneth said sagely. “We can rebuild houses and possessions. I am thankful no one was lost in the battle.”
“Me, too,” I agreed, and I studied the enormous body that now covered the northern third of the village. “I suppose there isn’t much point in trying to clear that away.”
“It is not worth the time or effort,” Nae agreed.
“What will happen to it?” Ayen wondered as he settled into a stone seat nearby. “I suppose it will take a long time to decay in this cold.”
“It will indeed.” Nae nodded as she bit down on a piece of fish jerky. “Mmm, I have not had fish in many years.”
“Nor have I,” Emneth said. “I did not realize how much I missed the salty taste.”
I smiled at the joy the women would surely find in all the fresh food they’d have access to in their new village.
Elora and Freesia returned a short while later with satisfied looks on their faces, and they sat down beside one another on my right.
“How are your patients?” I asked.
“They are doing well,” Freesia reported. “I was able to stitch a few of the more serious wounds, and I applied a medicinal salve to several to prevent illness. They should all make a full recovery, and they will be ready to travel with us when the time comes.”
“Wonderful,” Emneth sighed, and she looked up at the star-studded sky to check the position of the full moon. “It will be a few more hours before we can begin the ceremony to disassemble the final altar. Assuming all goes well, we can depart in the morning.”
“That sounds good,” I said. “I’d like it if only the fighters were here if and when the last two frost giants decide to make an appearance.”
“And if they do not come to the surface?” Ayen asked.
“Let’s worry about that if it comes to it.” I frowned.
Based solely on my experiences on this planet, I didn’t think we’d be lucky enough for the frost giants to stay in the depths of the chasm forever.
I thought back on the look of fear the last frost giant had given the chasm as it climbed onto the surface, and the fact that there was something deeper in the chasm. Something that was being blocked from Sylmarie’s sight, or worse, blocking itself from her sight.
No, I didn’t think the frost giants were going to stay in the chasm.
“It was under a full moon like this that our altars were created,” Emneth said in a wistful tone a while later.
I looked over to the red-eyed elf and found her staring up at the full moon as it climbed toward the center of the sky. For a moment, a dark shadow crossed my memory, and I thought of the first full moon I’d experienced on Asgard. The Demon Lord’s hideous feast of animals, humans, and elves filled my mind’s eye, and I pushed the grotesque image away.
“Did your people worship Máni?” Ayen asked in that blunt way of his.
“In a way,” Emneth mused.
“Who’s Máni?” I asked.
“The god of the moon,” Elora answered. “From what I understand, Máni came long before Odin’s rise among the Aesir.”
“That is correct,” Emneth said with a soft smile. “Máni and his sister, Sól, the god of the sun, lived long before Odin, but that is not as important to our history as what I share with you now.”
I settled back in my seat to listen to Emneth’s words, and I found I was more interested in them than I would have expected.
“The first of us looked up to the moon,” Emneth began, and she spread her hands up toward the sky. “They felt the strength of the moon’s power as it pulled on the ocean waves. They saw the magic as it waxed and waned in a reliable cycle between the glorious round orb it is tonight, and the darkness when it hides from us.”
I wondered if Asgardians understood that the moon cycles were caused by the passage of the planet, moon, and sun through space. Then I wondered if that really was how it worked on this planet, or if there was magic in the skies as there was in the ground, and even in myself. I might have understood basic astrophysics as they applied back on Earth, but none of that knowledge had proven to be reliable on Asgard.
I decided to let go of what I’d learned in my previous life on Earth, and I listened to Emneth’s words with new ears.
“Our ancestors watched the moon,” Emneth continued. “They studied and meditated, and for centuries, they longed to connect with the moon’s power. Finally, one among them was born with a magic of her own. She was the first Svartálfar.”
“The first what?” I asked.
“Svartálfar,” Emneth repeated a bit slower. “It was her name, and it was the first name we called ourselves. Over the millennia, other people came to call us dark elves for the darkness of our skin, and for other reasons as well… We learned to accept that title, but we have always been Svartálfar.”
“Wow,” I breathed softly.
“Svartálfar discovered a way to imbue stones with the magic that shone down from Máni,” Emneth said. “She brought the magic of the moon to her people, and from there, our magic only grew. Some of our people discovered there was a similar essence of magic within us all, though none as strong as Svartálfar’s. Then a dark-hearted elf whose name has been lost to time took a path of evil to enhance his magic in an attempt to become as revered as Svartálfar, and he sacrificed his own child to harness the magic within her blood.”
“Fuck,” I muttered, and my stomach flipped at the gruesome turn in Emneth’s story.
“It brought him such power…” Emneth muttered, and her eyes turned somber. “Many followed his path from a desire for more power, and our people became numb to the horrors of it all. There were those who refused to sacrifice their own, however. Those took outsiders as prisoners instead, usually light elves or dwarves.”
Emneth’s red eyes were locked on the snowy ground now as she spoke, and I could see the shame she felt for her ancestors’ actions.
“There were always those of us who despised this practice of magic,” Emneth said, and she cleared her throat. “Members of my family line continued to improve the techniques Svartálfar first found. They strengthened the process of imbuing the moon’s magic into stone altars, and they discovered we could use larger animals in the same blood rituals we so despised. It is why we found ourselves in this valley. The large moose and deer that once freely roamed these mountains were plentiful, and their blood was filled with magic. We were thriving… and then…”
“Ragnarok?” Elora surmised.
“Yes.” Emneth nodded sadly.
The group was quiet as Emneth’s powerful story lingered in the air, and I was overcome by admiration for the people in this village. Their ancestors had fought against the very things that had earned their people the hatred and prejudices they still worried about today.
“We have set up the meeting hall for your warriors, King Levi,” Nae said a little while later.
“Thank you,” I said.
“I will bring them now, if you wish,” the scarred Valkyrie offered.
I looked at Ayen and the others, and they nodded at me with gratitude as they covered yawns with their hands. They looked tired from the journey, and I wanted them rested and strong for when the time came.
“Yes, please.” I nodded. “I want everybody to get a good night’s sleep.”
Nae and Ivaran began to lead my warriors away to the meeting hall, and Elora and Freesia looked at me with tired smiles.
“Emneth…” I murmured.
“Yes, King Levi?” the red-eyed elf asked as she rubbed a hand over her forehead.
“The house we’d been staying in,” I said, and I grimaced as I looked over at the dead giant’s bulky shoulder. “Uh… it’s under there, so I’m assuming we’ll be staying in the meeting hall as well?”
“Yes,” Emneth said with an apologetic smile. “I do wish we had better to offer you.”
“No, that’s fine,” I assured her.
“Thank you,” Elora said.
My ladies stood up, stretched the stiffness from their bodies, and Freesia looked down at me.
“Levi?” my red-haired beauty asked.
Before I could answer, Lyrie cleared her throat nervously, and she twisted her dark gray fingers together as she looked at me.
“I was–” Lyrie hesitated and stood up. “Would you stay for a moment, please?”
Chapter 6
I tried to ignore the way my heartbeat quickened at the hopeful and nervous look in Lyrie’s black eyes, and I nodded slowly.
“Yeah,” I hummed. I looked up at Elora and Freesia. “I’ll join you later.”
“Good night, love,” Freesia murmured as she kissed me.
“Have fun,” Elora whispered in my ear in a teasing tone.
I smirked at my ladies as they wandered off together toward the meeting hall. Emneth’s red eyes flew away from Lyrie’s face as she stood up, and she brushed some invisible dust from herself.
“I must tend to a few details before the moon reaches its peak,” Emneth said. “If you will excuse me.”
“Of course,” I said.
I wondered if she really needed to see to some details, or if she was trying to give Lyrie a little privacy.
After watching the relationship between Lyrie and Emneth, I’d gotten the feeling that the older elf was a bit like a cool aunt to Lyrie. I remembered what Nae had told me about Lyrie’s parents dying when she was very young, and how the village had collectively come together to raise the orphaned elf. The white-haired warrior respected Emneth’s opinion, and it was clear that Emneth looked out for Lyrie.
I offered Lyrie a friendly smile and held my hands out toward the heat of the firepit. The night air was cold, but it wasn’t nearly as frigid as frost giant breath. It felt more like any old winter night in New England to me, and I was comfortable near the blazing fire.
From the corner of my eye, I watched Lyrie, and I tried to appear open and approachable while I waited.
Lyrie’s slender fingers knotted together in her lap, and the contrast of her white teeth against her dark gray bottom lip was fascinating to me. She seemed to need a little encouragement, so I turned slightly toward her and raised my eyebrows in what I hoped was an inviting gesture.
Lyrie’s mouth opened and closed several times as she took a breath in preparation for saying something, but the words never came.
There was no urgency in my heart to hear what she had to say, or to be away from her company tonight, so I waited patiently as she silently argued with herself.
“Ahem,” Lyrie cleared her throat forcefully, and she stuck out her chin in a stubborn way as she finally made eye contact with me. “I wanted to…”
Her words trailed off suddenly, and she blinked repeatedly like she’d lost all nerve when our eyes met.
“Yes?” I gave her the tiniest nod of encouragement.
“I wanted to thank you,” Lyrie said the words in a rush of air. “I am grateful for what you have done for my people… an– and me.”
I opened my mouth to tell her I was happy to help, but she stopped me with one hand.
“Let me finish,” Lyrie almost whispered. “Or I will never say the words.”
A gentle expression spread across my face, and I clamped my lips together in a charming smirk.
“Thank you,” Lyrie said again. “Thank you for helping my people… my family. I lost my parents when I was very young, and Emneth, Nae, Ivaran… they are the only family I have ever known.”
If I could have felt more affection for the bold and guarded woman in front of me, her words would have made it happen.
“We are very excited for the new opportunities you have made possible for us,” Lyrie said, and her words were fast. “I know there is ugliness in our past, and there has always been reason for outsiders to look down upon us.”
Lyrie’s words were clear as she looked pointedly at the stone altar nearby and the large pool of demon blood beneath it. The various bone, blood, and feather totems the villagers used also came to mind, and I could see why some might have an intense dislike of dark elves.
“I was raised in a secluded area of this world,” Lyrie continued, and her tone was back to its normal speed. “I have only ever known the people here in this village, and they raised me to understand that the rest of the world feared, or even hated us. But you have shown me that is not true. You have shown me there is good and kindness to be found in others, and I can see I am not alone in this discovery.”
My smile grew bigger as Lyrie finished, and I felt pride and warmth in my heart for the new world I was building with my bare hands.
“I’m glad I’ve been able to do that for you,” I murmured. “It’s an honor to bring so many different people together, and I think it’s really important. None of us would survive in the tiny groups and towns I’ve discovered. It takes all of us, working together, and leaning on one another, to build a new life.”
“It is an honorable thing you are doing,” Lyrie said.
“I’m not doing it alone,” I chuckled. “I haven’t felt alone since I came to Asgard.”
“Will you tell me about it?” Lyrie asked, and there was curiosity bright in her black eyes.
“About what?” I asked.
“About Midgard?” Lyrie clarified. “I know you were not from this world. You have seen the home I grew up in, and heard the history of my people. Will you tell me about the place you come from?”
“Uh, yeah,” I said. “What did you want to know?”
“Is there magic on Midgard?” Lyrie’s dark face lit up like a kid in a toy store. “Does it snow there? Are there animals like we have here? Are there both dark elves and light elves? What are the houses like? Do people know of Odin and the other Aesir? Is there a moon? How did you come to Asgard? What–”
“Whoa, whoa,” I chuckled at her barrage of questions. “One at a time. How about I start with how I got here?”
“Very well,” Lyrie said as she crossed her ankles and folded her hands in her lap.
I recounted the story of the night I fell into a blinding tunnel of rainbow light, and how I fought my first demon with my bare hands. Lyrie was astonished to hear I’d defeated the ugly bastard without a blade, and as I told the story, I realized how far I’d come.
“That is incredible,” Lyrie hummed. “Though I am unsurprised to hear you defeated a demon with your bare hands.”
“Not exactly,” I laughed. “It’s not like I strangled the bastard. I used the landscape to my advantage.”
“Still,” Lyrie insisted. “You had no weapons, and it sounds as though you did not use your magic to kill the demon.”
“I didn’t even know I had magic yet,” I admitted. “It wasn’t until I faced the wolf-sharks that I first shifted.”
“You battled wolf-sharks!” Lyrie nearly shouted with gleeful surprise.
“Yeah,” I laughed. “It was kind of my best option at the time, and Elora and Ayen were there. They assured me they’d keep me alive at least.”
“They are good friends,” Lyrie observed.
“They are,” I agreed. “So then I was in the water, with a shitty harpoon as my only weapon, and this massive wolf-shark was coming right at me.”
“Oooh,” Lyrie breathed with excitement.
“Every bit of fight-or-flight instinct went off in my body,” I said, and I realized how much fun it was to retell the tale after I’d improved my shifting skills to the level they were now. “And my body started to stretch out and change like it had a mind of its own. Then I was fully submerged in the water, and I was a killer whale! I didn’t know what had happened, or how it had happened, all I knew was the wolf-shark had a fair fight coming at it now.”
I grinned with confidence as I gave Lyrie a play-by-play of the rest of the battle against the wolf-shark pack. The discovery of the tiny runt of the litter concluded my story, and Lyrie’s eyes shone with warmth as I described how much Frida had grown over the last nine months.
“She’s a real sweetheart,” I said of my ferocious pet. “She looks mean, and she can be to anyone who threatens the people she loves. But really, Frida is a huge puppy.”
“Yes, I saw how gentle she seemed with you,” Lyrie said.
I smiled as I remembered the look of bemused shock on the dark-skinned elf’s face when Frida had bounded through the crowd and up the stairs of Castle Levi.
Lyrie waited patiently for me to continue, so I thought back to her many questions.
“Let’s see,” I said, and I looked up at the full moon above me. “Yes, we have a moon on Midgard. It’s a lot like this one. Maybe a little smaller.”
Lyrie continued to stare at me with amazement, and I wanted to see how shocked I could make her look. I thought about telling her about the moon landing, but I figured it was probably not a good idea, so I moved on to her next question instead.
“The houses are a lot like these,” I said, and I gestured at the stone homes that hadn’t been crushed under a towering monster. “They’re usually made of stone or wood. Most people live with their families, but some people live with friends, and others live alone.”
“It sounds similar to our world,” Lyrie mused.
“Would you like to know some things that are different?” I asked with a teasing grin.
“Yes, please,” Lyrie murmured, and she shifted her position so her legs were crossed under her like a little kid.
“There aren’t any dwarves on Midgard,” I whispered like it was a secret.
“No,” Lyrie gasped. “Truly?”
“Truly.” I nodded. “No elves, either. The only people on Midgard are humans.”
“Goodness,” Lyrie breathed. “That must be peaceful… and boring.”
