by Amy B. Nixon
The three maidens were capable of breathing life back into the dead, much to the dismay of other Vanir and Aesir deities. They labeled the gift as black magic; a heresy that only spurred outrage and dread. Out of all the Aesir, Odin alone took pity over Freya’s burdens. In the midst of the Asgardians’ turmoil, he ruled that the three maidens would continue Freya’s quest in restoring Midgard’s fading balance.
Freya settled the three maidens on the Scandinavian Peninsula, where people still believed in the ways of the old faith and worshipped the Norse pantheon above everything else. As a means to carrying out her quest, the goddess gifted them with the reproductive fertility of humans and the longevity of the sacred white ash trees – a centenarian lifespan of two hundred mundane years.
At the zenith of their lives, Freya asked the three maidens what they wanted as a token of her gratitude.
The first one, Aia, wanted to know what other realms looked like. Freya gave her the power to instantly materialize into any realm at will, allowing her to journey to other worlds and see the universe through their dwellers’ eyes by wandering into their dreams. Thus, Aia’s children became Wanderers.
The second one, Linnea, wanted to be able to revel in nature’s beauty wherever she went. Freya gave her the power to control the elemental forces of nature, allowing her to call forth spring’s emerald blossom, summer’s scorching heat, autumn’s cooling winds and winter’s numbing frost. Thus, Linnea’s children became Elementals.
The third one, Minora, wanted to ensure her bond with Aia and Linnea would never perish, unlike the bonds between Midgardians so often did. Freya gave her the power to practice empathy over other living creatures, allowing her to understand their emotions and stabilize their state of mind when their psyche was troubled. Thus, Minora’s children became Sentinels.
The other Asgardians secretly hoped the passing ages would eventually make necromancy obsolete in an ever-evolving world. They spread the rumors of a deadly practice and raised perpetual fear among the people of Midgard. Mundane mortals and supernatural creatures alike fretted, loathed and revolted against terms like black sorcery and death magic.
But Freya’s legacy lived on, and the three maidens’ children gave life to new generations.
As a way of protecting them from being slaughtered at birth, the goddess concealed newborn necromancers from the masses by locking away the newborns’ magical abilities during their youth. This way, their supernatural maturity wouldn’t flourish for the better half of the first two decades of their long lifespan.
The Vanir goddess helped several descendants of Aia, Linnea and Minora settle down in different parts of Midgard and establish safe havens. In these places, necromancers could be sheltered from the world while they discovered and developed their true essence.
Flash forward a few centuries later, and here I was, in one of these safe havens, known as Nordstrøm Island.
Learning about all these things, especially the long lifespan, only provoked more questions in my confused mind. My uncle Thomas had died at the age of eighty-three. If he was a necromancer, was he actually two-hundred-freaking-years old when he passed away?
And what about my parents? I used to think they had died in a plane accident, but if necromancers could raise dead people, their demise didn’t make any sense. They were in their forties, so they couldn’t have died from natural causes like my uncle. Which meant they could have been revived; but why weren’t they?
I thought I could get answers to at least some of the things my family had kept hidden from me. My search had led to the opposite.
When Monika walked into the room later that afternoon and asked if I was hungry, my frustration had nearly reached a point of vexation.
“No, I need a walk and a distraction because my brain feels like mush. What does someone do around here for fun? Oh, wait! Your brother told me to look for him later on some… training grounds?”
She playfully arched her eyebrows, placing a hand on her hip.
“My brother, huh? He doesn’t have a girlfriend or a fuck buddy right now, in case you were secretly wondering.”
Like clockwork, my system was overtaken by disgust at the idea of hooking up with someone. My last ex-boyfriend, The Phallus Who Shall Not Be Named, had been cheating on me throughout my first year at the University of San Francisco. The guy I dated before him when I was in high school had slept with me on a bet he’d made with his friends. And my previous relationships before those two assholes weren’t great either.
“I’m not looking for a relationship or a fuck buddy.”
“Fine. Just saying, in case you change your mind today.”
My disgust gave way to confusion. “Why would I?”
“Oh, you’ll see.”
***
The training grounds were housed in a side building, nestled in one of the island’s two inner courtyards.
We walked into a humongous room with impossibly high ceilings. Most of the floor space was covered with padded mats. Countless decorations graced the walls on each side of the room – freestanding and hanging varieties of punching bags, rubber dummy targets, knives, staffs and other weapons, dumb bells, bench presses, and tons of other equipment.
In the midst of it all was a crowd, divided into two groups. The first one held twenty-something-year-olds stretching on the floor. They were sitting on a notable distance for an obvious reason – the latter group was comprised of men who were engaged in a heated hand to hand combat.
The dozen or so fighters, wearing those black suits I had seen on the two guards, weren’t fighting each other; they were all battling one guy.
It took me a while to recognize the tall and slender frame. He moved with inhuman speed, forcing one man after another off his trajectory. I couldn’t get a clear view of his face because of his speedy movements, on top of the fact that short blond hair streaks kept falling over his eyes.
When he dodged attacks, he was plunging, bending, twisting and turning. It looked almost as though he was dancing. But when he struck his opponents, his moves were flexible, precise and sharp. It was a paradoxical mixture of supple elegance and strident hits.
Apparently, Dann Nordstrøm wasn’t just an excellent lecturer as Maksim had described him earlier. He was also excellent at fighting off a bunch of beefy guards. Additionally, he was excellent at being a sneaky creeper.
A loud clapping sound yanked me out of the trance-like state in which I was watching His Excellency’s swift movements, and brought me back to Earth. Maksim Larsen was clapping while leaning on a column across the room, grinning widely. The men ceased their fight, straightened up, and shook each other’s hands.
“Nice work, rookie!” Maksim shouted over their heads.
“Hey, Ursa Major!” Monika’s voice made me turn back, but she was already running off to her brother. I smiled at the nickname she used for her sibling. Great Bear suited him well. “Should we enroll Learyn in?”
“I don’t know.” Maksim glanced over Monika’s purple head in my direction. Not only did the twins look nothing alike when it came to facial features, but their height difference was comical. Monika was taller than me, but even she looked tiny next to her twin brother. “Think she can handle it?”
“Handle what?” I asked, approaching them. “What’s all this?”
“Mostly Krav Maga mixed with some Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu.”
“Is this why you’re so famous?”
“Yeah. You’re looking at one of the youngest Midgardian black belt martial artists in BJJ. When I came to the island, some residents were already practicing defensive and offensive magic. I suggested they pair it with physical fighting to make it more efficient. The Council agreed. They made me an assistant instructor to the guards who do defense and offense, and later allowed me to run non-magical self-defense classes.”
“Efficient against what?” I crossed my arms over my chest, twisting my neck backwards to meet his eyes.
“You never know what life will throw at y
ou, right?” He grinned with that boyish smile which strangely contrasted with his gigantic structure. “Think about it. At the very least, someone can try to mug you on the street. What’s better – to attack the bastard with fatal death magic, or to give him a couple of bruises?”
“Can’t argue with that point,” I agreed as my muscles relaxed after his explanation. “But to be clear, I’m not up for enrolling in your fight club. I don’t want to be surrounded by a dozen beefy guys trying to beat me up.”
“A dozen? Oh, you mean what we did with Dann. You wouldn’t have to do that. We just like pushing some people’s limits. Take my group for example – the ones stretching on the floor. They spar only in couples.”
“Just the same.”
“If you ever decide to give it a try, you can start at any time. The Council has approved martial arts for everyone, regardless of their age. They even encourage the island’s residents to learn self-defense. Anyway, how are you settling on your first day?”
“Peachy,” I lied immediately.
Whatever this Council thing was, I had no intention of playing by anyone else’s rules.
And unfortunately for Monika, I didn’t change my mind regarding relationships, even after learning Maksim could fight like a hunky badass on top of looking like one.
***
As I walked through the inner courtyards after sundown with my roommate on our way to dinner, I realized Norway wasn’t the arctic hell I expected it to be.
“Hey, Monika, why is it so warm outside? Is it magic?”
“The island is close to Stavanger, which is in Southwestern Norway. We get mild weather here. I was born in the Karasjok area. Trust me, it isn’t a fun place to be, unless you’re visiting in the summer.”
“Is that on the North Pole?”
“No, but it does feel like it. Winters are minus-fifty degrees Celsius.”
I did the math, converting it to Fahrenheit, and nearly lost my step.
“You’re fucking kidding me!”
She laughed dryly. “I wish I was. My paternal grandparents are Danish, but they moved to Norway in the late nineteenth century. Each Christmas, I secretly wish they stayed in Denmark. Even Max hates Karasjok’s weather, though he already has the structure of a polar bear.”
I burst into laughter, grateful we weren’t near Karasjok.
Despite the mild temperatures, we passed what looked like a frozen pond with some people who were ice skating. Monika explained there were two ponds on the island, and Elementals froze them whenever they didn’t feel like waiting for winter to come.
“Do you skate?” she asked as we approached the castle.
“Yeah, I used to do it every now and then back in San Francisco.”
“Can you teach me?”
“I can try. It’s not hard if you know how to rollerblade.”
“Awesome! We can order ice skates online when we get…”
I didn’t hear what she said next, because something fell from the tree branches above me, landing directly at my feet. I jumped back, only to see it was a tiny bird. Fluttering its wings and telltale forked tail feathers, the small swallow twisted and turned on the ground, unable to get on its feet.
“Aww, it’s okay, little buddy.” I spoke in a soft voice, kneeling before it. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.”
Carefully reaching for the bird, I gently put my fingers around it. I could feel its rapid heartbeat pounding on my skin, and my own heart skipped a beat, aching for the poor thing. I had no idea if swallows in Norway spent their autumn in the north, or if its injury was the reason for staying behind, but I wasn’t going to leave it here. We were on a magical island; there had to be a magical way to fix whatever was wrong with it.
Before I could get up, the rapid heartbeat came to an abrupt halt with one final, thumping vibration. I froze in my spot.
“Nooo!” A whimper of panic escaped me as I tried to bite back the familiar nauseating symptoms. “No, please be in shock, please let it be just a shock, please be alive! Be alive, please, be alive!”
Icy shivers crawled down my spine, contrasting with the burning rush of blood incinerating my veins. I was indeed overtaken by frenzied panic which, paradoxically enough, grew more numbing by the second.
The liquid fire in my veins made me breathless. Scorching waves clouded my mind and vision. I turned my head left and right, frantically looking around for Monika, hoping the bird would live long enough for us to get it inside where it was warmer, so we could nurse it back to health. But I couldn’t see clearly. There were too many people in the courtyard, it was too dark, and everyone collided into a seamless blur.
The flames kept blazing through my system, hell-bent on devouring me from the inside out. I couldn’t find my voice to call for Monika.
All of a sudden, a deafening siren-like male yell pierced my eardrums painfully, repeating the same two words over and over again.
DRAUGAR ALERT. DRAUGAR ALERT.
I let out a whimper, gritting my teeth in pain, and turned to the swallow in my hands, only to discover I was holding emptiness.
The bird was levitating in the air freely, clasping only its wings without moving its body. The torso and tail stood perfectly still and almost lifeless between its fluttering wings. I had never, ever seen a bird of any kind act this way.
DRAUGAR ALERT. DRAUGAR ALERT.
And I had definitely never seen a swallow with bright green eyes glowing in the dark. Which was exactly how this one’s eyes burned as they stared directly into mine.
DRAUGAR ALERT. DRAUGAR ALERT.
“Get away from it!”
Someone shouted, and a strong hand grabbed my elbow, dragging me away from the bird. I couldn’t get on my feet fast enough. My ankle bent in the wrong direction, painfully grazing the ground beneath me.
“Ah! Let me go!”
The swallow shot itself through the air, flying right towards me, and came to a halt inches away.
Before I knew it, its beak charged at the fingers curled around my arm, and started pecking at the one who was holding me. Vigorously and surprisingly unnatural for its small size, the beak left bloody marks all over the guy’s hand. Dozens of crimson drops shined ominously under the moonlight as they landed on the opening of my jacket, splattering on top of my shirt. It felt as if my skin burned under the fabric, though the drops hadn’t laid a single burn mark on the cloth.
Nauseating, cold breeze swirled in my stomach. The guy withdrew his hand to fight off his savage attacker, who seemed to grow more rabid by the second.
DRAUGAR ALERT. DRAUGAR ALERT.
Amidst the monotonous sirens, the guy’s shouting, the swallow’s gurgles and the violent swishing of its flapping wings, a flash of green light erupted out of nowhere.
The bird got consumed by emerald flames. Those deafening sirens ceased their ear-shattering whistling. The unfamiliar guy, who had grabbed me, grunted in pain and got up. Holding his injured hand by the wrist, he walked away, swearing under his nose. Still stunned by what had just happened, I remained on the ground until a familiar face surrounded by dark purple curls entered my peripheral vision.
“Up,” Monika urged quietly, catching my arm.
“What happened?”
“You made a Draug. I’ll explain everything when we’re inside.”
She pulled me on my feet, wrapped one hand around mine and put the other behind my back, guiding me towards the nearest gates.
Several people had apparently gathered around us, while a significantly bigger crowd was watching from afar.
I studied my audience. A few people looked surprised, but the most common expression was fear. A sea of eyes, all staring into mine with the same intense, boundless, candid fear.
The only familiar face I managed to recall belonged to a light brown head sticking above most. Maksim Larsen. And next to him was another familiar face, the one of Dann Nordstrøm. He had a girl hanging from his elbow, whispering something to him. As Monika dragged me right past them,
the girl turned away from him, and the long, sandy blonde hair that was partially hiding her revealed a strikingly beautiful face. Wow! This one had simply won the necromantic gene pool.
Her glare, overflowing with unfeigned fury, made my stomach turn once again. I looked away, locking eyes with Maksim’s terrified expression, which only increased my anxiety.
“Monika–”
“Not now,” she interrupted my question, pushing me through the gates. “Keep walking!”
No longer hearing a whirlwind of roaring sounds or seeing the crowd, I inhaled slowly, trying to calm down. What had just happened? What was that siren? Why did it make the twins worry? Why were people afraid? And why was the blonde looking at me like I was her nemesis?
Barely holding my mouth shut for so long, I stormed over Monika when she finally got us in our room.
“What happened out there with the swallow? Why did it hurt that guy? What’s a Draugar alert? Why were people looking at me like that?”
“Breathe! Please!” She urged with a high-pitched voice, sitting on her bed. “The siren is a precaution against a Draug. Draugar in plural. It goes off whenever there’s a Draug on the island’s territory.”
“What precaution? Was it because of the swallow?”
“It wasn’t a swallow anymore. You made a Draug from it. But you shouldn’t be able to do that. Actually, most necromancers can’t do that on purpose, even experienced necromancers avoid using that type of death magic… This is bad, it’s really bad… Now the entire Council is gonna be on fire, and… Oh, crap, my ass is gonna be on fire too… And I should have watched you…”
“You’re not making any sense!” I interrupted her squealing mumbles.
“Sorry, sorry… What I meant to say is… That swallow died and you brought it back to life. Kind of. It went into a postmortem stage, a really, really messed up stage, which you shouldn’t be able to evoke. Some guy tried to pull you away, then one of the guards destroyed it.”
“Postmortem? I zombified it?”
