Authors: Angela Chrysler
* * *
The delay cost them well over two hours in which they collected the blood from Rune’s bull, fashioned a second harness for Freyja, and strapped the carcass to the crude sled to be harvested later at the lake. Once Bern secured the final strap around the
finntent
, they were off with the cow in tow.
Too soon, the sun passed overhead with too little road behind them. By late midday, they pushed through the last of the river, walking as they ate fruit, berries, and salted meats. Before the sun vanished behind the last mountain, the light of day touched down on the waters of Lake Aursund.
“The Raumelfr.” Bern pointed to the west where the lake stretched on. “It flows from the lake there.” He shifted his hand to the southwest. “You are exactly where you’ll need to be for tomorrow.”
Nothing but lake could be seen, spanning the distance.
Eager to find a clearing to secure camp for the night, they moved toward the edge of Aursund, but before they had advanced five paces, Bern’s arm flew up.
“There,” he said, pointing to a single pillar of smoke rising from the ground.
Rolling earth buried in lichen extended over the land, save for a distinct line of smoke that billowed from a hill of moss. Rune and Kallan narrowed their eyes and gazed upon the fireless smoke emitted from the ground. Hoping for an explanation, Kallan looked to Bern as Rune studied the smoking knoll.
“Halda,” Bern called, but she had already seen and was off. Flying the rest of the way to the mount, Halda ran on ahead.
“The Finn didn’t migrate and plunder to settle on this land,” Bern said, tugging the reindeer alongside him after Halda. “They were born here long before my elder father’s elder father explored these parts.”
“
Aed ‘ne
!” Halda cried. Her voice was barely audible in the distance.
“Long before the high king ruled your Alfheim,” Bern said, “the Finn had mastered this land. Their culture flourishes here, untouched by kings who usurp the rule of jarls. They are indifferent to the laws set by outsiders and hold no regard for our
Thing
.”
Halda was almost at the smoking mound when she called again.
“Aed ‘ne?”
“They have their own laws to abide by,” he said, “their own gods to answer to, but you’ll find, in most cases, they have no need for such things as laws. They live for the Nature, and abide by Her ways.”
“The smoke,” Kallan asked, still eyeing the top of the hill where the pillar billowed at the base.
“That,” Bern said, nodding to the knoll, “is a
gamme
, much like the
finntent
here, though not exactly portable.”
As Bern and the Alfar drew nearer, it was easier to make out the earthwork that could only be a makeshift hut formed out of earth. Years of overgrowth had camouflaged the abode completely. If it had not been for Bern’s explanation and the smoke, they would have passed it by without notice.
Out of the earth, a wooden door lined with moss flew open. Swaddled in thick fur clothes matched with fur hats and moccasins, two tiny girls with ebony hair hanging free to their waists emerged from the ground. In a blur of white and brown reindeer fur, they bombarded Halda’s legs in a swarm of hugs, all the while giggling.
Halda scooped up one of the girls and squeezed her back. Bern and the Alfar made their way across the various reds and greens of the ground that rolled up and over the gamme.
“Their homes are built from the earth,” Bern said as one of the girls holding Halda’s legs released a high-pitched squeal of delight. “The inside is braced with planks of birch. The earthen roof and mud walls are lined with moss, holding the fire’s warmth.”
A sudden, sharp bark laden with softened syllables silenced the giddy girls as a woman emerged from the smoking moss. With hair flowing freely, her round face and high cheekbones matched the girl’s with a deep nose bridge set between their eyes. Their eyes, like Halda’s, were as blue and as clear as the Lake Aursund.
Keeping their distance, Rune halted the horses as happy tears flowed down Halda’s face. In a soft dialect sharpened by the occasional consonant, Bern called out to the women and children, his cow in tow behind him.
Curious to see what the ruckus was about, a man emerged from behind the
gamme
with four reindeer, the sixteen knees all clicking with each step. The man had tied back his long, ebony hair, adding definition to his round face. A deep nose bridge matched his wide brow. At nearly six feet, he stood beside a young boy, no more than four winters, with hair that shone in the sun’s light like black water. Save for a hat, the boy wore the same browns and whites as the giggling girls, and held a bucket as wide as his shoulders.
With a grin, Bern ruffled the boy’s head and released a rush of fluid words. Calling to the
gamme
, the man smiled, giving a firm slap to Bern’s shoulder, all the while exchanging the same fluid dialogue Rune and Kallan could only guess to be salutations. More words accompanied smiles and happy tears when Bern swept his arm in Kallan and Rune’s direction.
Silence fell over the dwelling, leaving behind the quiet wind and a single click of a reindeer’s knee. It was a long while before the Finn man spoke, emitting a single decipherable word.
“Alfar.”
With eyes still fixed on the Finn, the creek and closing of the wood door broke the silence, drawing their attention to an elder woman standing in front of the domicile. With black hair streaked with white and aged lines etched into her face, the elder woman stepped to embrace Halda, and Kallan gasped.
With hunger, the Beast rose to attention while Rune stared dumbfounded at the elder woman. Seeing what only Kallan could see, he snatched Kallan’s arm as she made the substantial effort to stand. Like he, she battled her breath steady as they gazed at the golden light that weaved its way through and around the elder woman. Mesmerized, Rune stared, knowing the Seidr lines he felt, the lines he knew Kallan saw.
With a second glance, the elder woman stared back at Kallan then Rune, just as enthralled, just as dumbfounded, as if she was unsure which of the two Alfar fascinated her the most. And, all at once, she burst into a smile and exploded into a round of unfamiliar syllables. She exclaimed, clasping her hands, and made her way over to Rune and Kallan.
With a warm greeting matched with a smile, she extended her arms and embraced the Dokkalfr, the top of her head barely reaching Kallan’s shoulders. Halda smiled as fluid sounds flowed from the elder woman’s mouth. With a laugh, the elder woman reached with her frail fingers and took up the elding tri-corner knot hanging from Kallan’s neck.
“She’s happy to know you,” Halda said, refusing to budge from the place beside the younger woman. With a great affection, the elder woman turned the charm over before releasing it to rest against Kallan’s skin.
“This is my elder mother, Sarahkka.” Halda grinned, her eyes still ripe with tears. “She is our
Naejttie
.”
Kallan ran her hand through the lines Rune felt through the Beast, who growled impatiently but didn’t move. The lines flowed around the woman and gave way, twisting around Kallan’s wrist as Rune fought to ensure the Beast—ever ready, ever hungry—obeyed. Enraptured, Sarahkka laughed.
“
Naejttie
,” Kallan whispered as if remembering something.
Sarahkka nodded with a delighted grin that became a long, warm laugh.
“
Naejttie
,” Kallan repeated. “She’s a Seidkona.”
“I thought humans had forgotten the Seidr,” he asked.
“They did,” Kallan said. “I mean, I’ve never seen—”
Sarahkka clasped her hands in jubilation and buried her old fingers into a hide pouch tied to her side. It wasn’t until her bony fingers vanished into the pocket of fur that Rune even noticed the pouch.
While speaking excitedly, Sarahkka withdrew a small, white seed, and, cupping Kallan’s hand, dropped the seed into her palm. In a tune much like Halda’s song, the
Naejttie
mumbled a rhythm with words. The Beast within Rune stood and roared. Unleashing its hunger, it reached and slammed into Rune’s will. He held it back while he felt Sarahkka’s Seidr strengthen and move into Kallan.
In wonder, Rune watched Kallan stare as the Seidr encompassed the seed as if cradling it. The seed coat swelled then split, and a root emerged, extending out into the world until its leaves formed, pushing back the husk as they opened. Like spring follows the winter thaw, the sprout reached toward the light of the setting sun, oblivious to the cold that would soon blanket the world.
As her incantation ended, Sarahkka grinned and the Beast calmed, allowing Rune to relax his will.
The sprout’s leaves rustled in the breeze, and as Kallan studied the veins of green flowing with gold, she gasped and curved her mouth into a smile.
“This is the Seidr,” Kallan said, still eyeing what Rune determined was the Seidr he felt encompassing Sarahkka.
“What is?” Rune asked, squinting and trying to see what Kallan saw.
“You don’t see?” she asked, tearing her eyes from the
Naejttie
.
At once, he realized how close she was. Her eyes glanced at his mouth. When she raised her face to his, he studied the wonder that brimmed in Kallan’s gaze.
“She wasn’t always like this,” Halda said from beside the woman. “Only after we came to this land many harvests ago and found the Seidi—”
“Seidi!” Sarahkka exclaimed.
“Seidi?” Kallan said and, with a fresh wave of enthusiasm, the
Naejttie
launched into an onslaught of syllables neither Alfar could understand.
After a slew of phrases, Sarahkka lifted the sprout from Kallan’s hands and placed it onto the ground. Her withered palm folded into Kallan’s and she pulled, urging the Dokkalfr to follow. But a worry visibly took hold and, digging her feet into the ground, Kallan snatched Rune’s hand with the same conviction.
Sarahkka turned back and glanced at Kallan’s hand interlocked with Rune’s. With a series of fervent nods, she burst into a new fit of laughter. Waving her hand, Rune and Kallan could only interpret her actions as an invitation to follow together.
* * *
Rune walked alongside Kallan as she pushed her way over the moss and molehills, one hand yanking free her skirts that caught on the shrubs and branches as they walked and the other clutching Rune’s hand as if afraid to let him go.
Sarahkka continued her excited monologue five steps ahead as she led them into the trees. She stopped once or twice and burst into laughter she quelled with a shake of her head. After a moment, she restarted speaking in a language neither Kallan nor Rune could understand.
The trees thickened until a forest had formed, forcing them to slow their pace and the Beast within Rune paced. Kallan stopped pulling her skirts free, and began holding back the low hanging branches as they pushed their way through the wood.
After several minutes, Sarahkka stopped, giving Rune and Kallan time to catch up. They stood, taking in the surrounding area. The
gamme
, the horses, the reindeer, and Finn were far from sight. With a smile, Sarahkka uttered a few words and placed a twisted finger to Kallan’s mouth then pulled back the last of the thick branches. Pushing aside massive fronds, as tall as two Alfar, Sarahkka stepped into a vast clearing, waving Kallan and Rune to follow.
Kallan and Rune eyed the foliage, taking care to run their hands up the firm, slender leaves as wide as their hands. The Beast hastened his step. Rune reasserted his will. With difficulty, Rune and Kallan took their turn bending the fronds away and joined Sarahkka in a moss-covered clearing encased in tall pines and peppered in slender birch, where a brook flowed from a wall of bedrock. With their hands still clasped together, Rune and Kallan took one look at the ground before them and gasped.
Plum marsh orchids that could fill Rune’s palm climbed giant stalks. Blossoms of martagom lilies hung from their stems like large luminescent floral saucers. Toadflax and hop clover, made gold by the Seidr light emerged in bunches throughout the clearing. Bouquets of oblong blossoms, vibrant pink, protruded on a single stem. Each bloom elongated a span and was cocooned in a white, silk webbing that covered the plant from the ground to the tips of each rounded blossom. And ferns—grand, green ferns, more than two men in height—filled every corner, every crevice of the clearing.
Interspersed with the flora, oversized butterflies with wings of smoky cobalt blue, wings painted iridescent greens, and white wings dabbed with abalone, fluttered about the massive blooms. At the base of the trees, red spotted mushrooms clustered around fungi with pristine caps and stems. Both varieties, as long as a man’s arm, glowed gold in the Seidr light. Along the brook, a pair of dippers dipped and dove into the water and emerged after a minute with their beaks clamped on over-sized water insects and larvae. Among the foliage and flowers, red squirrels as large as ship cats scurried about the trunks of the conifers. Tufts of fur extended off each ear, and their tails, twice the length of their bodies, trailed behind them as they scurried up and down the tree like Ratatoskr.
“Do you see this?” Kallan breathed as Rune held back the Beast that clawed at his will.
Both gaped, unable to tear their eyes from the ground where golden light twisted its way through the tiny fibers of moss, making its way toward the
Naejttie.
There it mingled with the glow surrounding them.
“What is it?” Rune asked, unable to pull his attention away from the earth and the lines of Seidr that moved on the wind.
“It’s a Seidi,” Kallan said. “Sacred ground where springs of Seidr emerge from the earth.”
A smile lifted her face. With a nod, the
Naejttie
moved to the center of the clearing and dropped to her knees, splaying her palms out on the moss where the light flowed. Releasing Rune’s hand, Kallan knelt opposite Sarahkka and mirrored her.
With the fountain between them, the old woman mumbled a series of indecipherable words. The Seidr grew brighter, stretching like hundreds of vines across the ground, contorting itself up the trees with every word Sarahkka muttered. The Beast screamed and threw itself toward the lines. As if starved, it clawed and bit, held back only by Rune’s determination to keep it from feeding its insatiable hunger.
The Seidr twisted its way up the women’s arms and over their backs, until they were enveloped in a blanket of gold and the Beast released another scream. Sweat formed on Rune’s brow and Kallan gasped as the energy flowed through her. The Beast pushed and Rune bore down. He felt himself losing to the hunger. Its cloak of Shadow seeped out, breaking through Rune’s will and streaming into the lines of Seidr. It snaked its way to the first of the lines and Rune fought with the creature inside him.
It linked itself with Kallan’s Seidr. More Shadow drained as Rune’s strength waned. Hungrily, it lapped up Kallan’s Seidr, connecting her lines to his. Startled, he jumped, almost losing the fight, when he could hear an old woman’s words clearly from within Kallan’s mind.
“You’re fighting it, Kallan. Allow it. It’s there…ready to be a part of you.”
Sarahkka spoke. The fluid breath of her dialect interrupted Kallan’s thoughts, breaking Rune’s concentration, and more of the Beast broke through Rune’s weakening barrier. A mischievous light glistened in Kallan’s blue eye. At once, Rune understood. The Beast was up on its hind legs now, snarling and snapping at the Seidr, drinking more in as it flowed. He would not be able to hold it back much longer.
Gasping, Kallan re-positioned her palms on the ground and, re-establishing her center, reached into the bottom-most depths of her core, beyond the ends of her own Seidr where the earth’s power began and hers ended. From there she pulled the energy inward, trembling beneath the magnitude. A flood of strength swarmed her and the light from the ground doubled, pouring faster into the clearing. In a rush, the Seidr flowed and held her to the ground. The Beast shattered the last of Rune’s will as it threw itself at the Seidr.
Corporeal Shadow, blacker than umbra, flowed from Rune like the Seidr that poured from the spring. Unleashed, the Beast drank its fill while the sudden surge of Shadow and Seidr pinned Rune to the ground. Unable to move, he stood as the Beast pulled the trail of light from the wind to his feet, through the ground and into him, and Kallan knelt at the fountain with her eyes closed, oblivious to Rune’s Beast of Shadow.
Kallan pulled the Seidr as it mingled with that of the Earth’s, providing far more Seidr than Rune’s Beast could ever devour: so much Seidr that Kallan and Sarahkka remained oblivious to the Beast’s presence or how much it drank.
From the spring, the Seidr flowed until the whole of the clearing filled with light, far more than the Beast could drink, until the air itself glistened and gold streams rose up the trees like ivy and blanketed the wall of bedrock, taking the form of a wall of fire and flame that rose from the ground. And the Beast ever drank.
Over the wall of bedrock, into the sky it stretched and thinned, growing until the very ends of the Seidr became an endless stream of blue flames that ended where the edge of the flame glowed white. The tips flickered and licked the air, compiling until it formed a bridge that reached to the heavens.
Sitting back on her legs, Sarahkka released the ground and smiled, delighted at the depth of Kallan’s focus as the Seidkona absorbed the earth’s Seidr. Pulling it through her, Kallan fueled her own energy, oblivious to the bridge that had formed from the tiny spring that yielded the Seidr.
“Kallan,” Rune said, gaping at the bridge before them. He tried again to move and failed.
“Kallan,” he said, louder this time, hoping to break her concentration. When she didn’t respond, Rune slipped his own consciousness along the threads of Seidr and entered her mind.
Sudden comprehension awakened within, sudden realization that had not been, making Kallan aware of how unfocused and dim her thoughts had always been. The fog cleared within her mind and in the moment that she saw, she understood.
As vivid as the Seidr surrounding the
Naejttie
, Kallan saw the blood consumed by flame settling into the sea. A contorted face screamed as a man, a giant, rode into the horizon, crying out for war to Asgard as the edge of his silver sword ran with blood.
The image faded and changed, reappearing with flames that stretched to the sky, licking the air like dragons’ tongues. The screams rose with great plumes of black smoke and Kallan and Rune saw a pair of ageless, gold eyes smiling through the burning towers that was Lorlenalin.
With a start, Kallan gasped and released the ground at once, severing the ties that bound Kallan to Rune and the Beast. Seidr settled on the wind, leaving the bridge in view. Rune restored his will and manacled the Beast, which recoiled. The energy that held Rune to the ground released and he dove, catching Kallan before she fell face-first into the dirt. Beaded sweat fell from his brow and Kallan’s widened eyes met Rune’s.
“Lorlenalin,” she gasped, looking about with madness. A single tear streaked her cheek.
“She’s fine,” Rune said, knowing the images she had seen.
Kallan’s eyes shifted from side to side as if watching the memories play over, keeping her steeped in panic.
“Heimdallr!” she shrieked and sat up, reaching for the burning bridge. “Heimdallr!”
“Kallan, no!” Rune lunged, barely grabbing her in time to stop her from diving head first into the fire.
Her strength had doubled. Struggling more than ever to contain her, Rune wrapped both arms around her, holding her back.
“The Bilrost burns!” Rune shouted over her madness.
“Release me,” she said. “I have to warn him!”
“It wasn’t real!”
Kallan shoved his arms aside and lunged for the fire. With all his strength, Rune threw himself into Kallan, taking her to the ground with him as Kallan shrieked for Heimdallr. With two sharp syllables, the command of Sarahkka’s voice cut through their tussle, forcing their voices silent and their attention to the Finn. Entranced, Sarahkka rose to her feet.
With mouths agape, they stared in awe at the floor of fire and wall of flame. Atop a horse of golden flames that whipped and licked the leather reins, untouched by the fire that twisted and burned, sat Heimdallr, guardian of the Bilrost.