Eventually, Kaihar knelt down beside me. “You have been poisoned by svartmeteel, the all corrupting iron the dwarves use to taint the natural world. I will put you out until we can reach Clafel.”
“Is it fatal? Can you cure me?” All my questions were unanswered. “What will you take the magic to knock me out from? Leaf, pinecone, mushroom?”
“Fist,” was the response that time. It was strange, here I thought alf magic needed plants to work. Quickly, I figured out he wasn’t going to use magic at all, just brute force. Effective given the resources at hand, but I still would have rather him used something at hand instead of just his hand.
As I was unconscious, I dreamed I was back home with my family all around me. We were gathered together with a great many people outside of the town proper as the sages performed a sacred ritual around the statue of a man beside a winged boar.
“Brother?” Sigrun squeaked in my ear.
I tried to whisper as quietly and respectfully as I could, as not to disrupt the ceremony. “Yes?”
“Who is he?”
“Why, that’s Freyr, king of the alfar, and his faithful boar, Gullinbursti. He’s one of the Vanir.” One of the sages then drew a sword and carried it forth to the altar. A jar full of perfume was then brought forth, the sword bathed in it, and then set alight so that the aroma could be smelled by all.
“Why are they doing that?” Sigrun asked as she pointed to the sword.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as I thought about how to summarize such a complex topic. “A long time ago, Freyr gave away his sword, which he loved very much. We do this in memory of what happened.”
“What’s an alf?”
“An alf is a beautiful spirit of nature. They can do amazing things with magic and live in homes more beautiful than anything we humans can imagine.”
I felt a nudge on my shoulder and I was dragged out of my dream and into reality. When I woke up, the sky had turned a creamy, orange color and I was leaning against a massive tree. There was also a bandage wrapped over my arm. My arm still hurt, but the pressure the wrappings applied was soothing. Kaihar was sitting beside me, and an alf whose form was dull and gray looked down at me. I blinked at the elder and pointed to him. “Who’s that?” I asked Kaihar.
Kaihar glanced at the alf for a split second and then looked back at me. “That is Niale, the eldest elder of our clan.” Niale bowed as Kaihar introduced him. “He is here to apologize for all that you were dragged into formally. If there is anything within our power and reason to make your bedrest in our home more comfortable, I have also been given permission to accommodate.”
I rolled over a bit to see in the direction of the sea, not that it was within sight, but I had a sort of sixth sense as to its direction. It was very nice of them to make me feel at home, but I didn’t want to feel at home; I wanted to be home. “The best way to make me feel comfortable while I’m here is to tell me you have a way to help me get back home,” I said.
Kaihar fluttered backward slightly. “I am sorry, but I do believe I have misunderstood what you meant from before. When you told me the Agrians were pursuing you, I assumed you had a ship. Is this not true?”
“No, it was destroyed by a storm I believe was sent by Aegir.”
I thought Kaihar met my glance and then went to have a dialogue with Niale. From the rushed tempo of his voice, I thought Kaihar was alarmed by what I had said. Which was reasonable. It wasn’t every day that you hear about someone who was attacked by a god. Had someone said something similar to me, I would have probably handled it worse than Kaihar was. That being said, it slowly dawned on me that it might not have been the best idea to mention it to him.
He turned back to me and, holding his hands together and sighing. “Such a course of action does not seem to be terribly wise. You have already been foundered by his might. What makes you believe that the same will not happen again?”
I scoffed at his question. “And if a blacksmith burns his hand, he should stop doing his craft after he has recovered? Aegir’s storm caught me off guard, so what? Had I prepared for it, I wouldn’t be here having this conversation.”
“You are sure he is not going to send a tidal wave to squash you should a mere storm fail?”
“If it truly bothers you, we can seek to appease him before I embark.”
Kaihar spoke with Niale once again, a much shorter and much less-disturbed conversation. Niale raised his hands in the air while shaking his head and then pointed off in the distance. Kaihar returned to his conversation with me. “In order to respect your wishes, this shall be done for you. If you would like, I shall show you where the ship shall be built.”
Agreeing, I rose slowly and he lead me downhill. I turned back for a moment to observe the tree I had been sitting under. Despite being at the wintry edge of fall, it had all of its leaves still on it, not a single red leaf.
My vision was still somewhat blurred, but I could tell where we were. Kaihar was guiding me down not some hill, but a genuine mountain, the peek towering dizzyingly overtop. Down below was a large lake surrounded by great, slumbering trees. The trees, too, were guarded from the world by the ridge of the mountain itself. When we reached the base of the mountain, I was winded for a moment.
When I caught my breath again, Kaihar led me to a small little grove with a large stream in it. I saw a small group of alfar making strange noises, moving their hands in unusual fashions, and even beating on a small, warped sapling, but the one thing I didn’t see was them building anything that looked even remotely like a ship part. Or anything else for that matter.
“These are some wonderful crafts are they not?” Kaihar said.
I raised my right eyebrow at his comment. “You’re joking, right?”
“Of course not. Compared to the pace a human would take to build the same things, they are speeding along. Just take that table over there, or even that pitcher.” Kaihar flitted to and fro, seeming to point at a tree stump and a weird knot in another tree.
“Speeding alon—” I stopped abruptly because I couldn’t believe what he was saying. “They’re making funny noises and beating up that poor little tree. What does that have to do with building anything?” A fit of coughing overcame me with the burst of outrage. The cough burned a little, and it felt like there was something wet in my lungs.
“…Oh right, you can’t…look if you want to maybe help in a more tangible way, how about you go upstream and fetch them some rocks? It looks like they are running low.” Kaihar didn’t look at me for one moment when he spoke to me, he just continued to stare at the tree being tormented.
My jaw dropped at that request. “River rocks? Are you—” I paused as it occurred to me that perhaps alfar can go insane too. They seemed to quite clearly think that what they were doing was building a ship, and I quite clearly didn’t want a horde of angry alfar chasing after me for ruining their delusion. I gave a sigh and decided to humor the poor creatures. “River rocks, but of course. Are there any particular kinds you want?” I tried to sound enthusiastic, but I still could only croak.
“As a matter of fact, we do.” He turned to me and said, “Try and find some small, triangular rocks, and make sure they’re as round as possible.”
“All right, I will,” I said as I retreated up stream, but I had to walk because anything more was too hard on me. Perhaps I was just worn from the stress of the previous days, leaving me very weak. I didn’t stop until I came to a small waterfall, maybe half an hour from the “construction” site. I took off my sandals and walked into the cool river water. I stared at the water, chuckling in my head about such a silly notion.
I then crouched down and plunged my un-bandaged hand into the crystal-clear water, feeling around for a stone that fit the description of what the alfar wanted. “Talking to plants,” I murmured to myself, “triangular river stones with perfectly smooth edges. What does any of this stuff have to do with making a boat? What I saw outside of here
was certainly magic, but this looks nothing like that.” My fingers brushed past what felt like two rocks that fit the bill, and I picked them up to take a look at them. I slowly rotated the pebble in my fingers to check for any imperfections. By looking at it, the stone was a perfect isosceles triangle with wax-smooth edges, but there seemed to be a chip invisible to the eye that my fingers could feel.
“Whatever, those nut jobs won’t realize it,” I thought to myself as I dropped it into my shirt. As I slipped my fingers back into the water, I noted that the water reflected a glimmer of gold and I heard a loud grunt come from behind. Reflexively, I turned around to see what made that noise, and when I saw it, I wondered if it was really there. Whatever the thing was, it appeared to be a golden statue of a winged boar, each and every bristle across its spine its own individual thread. I stood there quietly examining it, and it me. After a blink and a snort, it walked up to me and jammed its nose into my face, sniffing heavily.
There came a serene and assertive voice, but I didn’t know from where it came. I rolled a little backward, as I thought the boar was the one that spoke, and the boar pushed me down into the stream as it moved with me.
“N’alaquel,” the voice shouted, and the beast moved backward.
As I sat up and wiped the water out of my eyes, I heard the sloshing sound of someone walking into the river. When I looked up to see who it was, I saw an alf. This one was different from the others, though, as it had a physical form. I could hardly even understand how I knew it was an alf. While his skin was fairer and paler than any mortal’s (more so than even other alfars’), he was large shouldered, muscular, and even taller than all the others I’ve seen before, a disturbing sight when used to seeing only gaunt, wiry spirits. He also sported an impressive beard and long flowing hair, both so white I could swear I could see the trees and rocks that stood behind them.
“Amin Freyr.” He spoke only once, yet the sound of it bounced off every surface just as clearly as when it was first spoken. He certainly spoke two words, but it was only the second that held meaning to me.
“Freyr,” I said to myself as I thought about the winged boar. With no hesitation, I collapsed into a kneeling position. There was, of course, no other way to act before a king.
I felt his hand on my head and I looked up at his countenance. Now with my attention, he pointed at my pocket. Understanding what he meant perfectly, I reached into it and gave him the stone I just collected.
He held the stone in his palm and slowly squeezed on it. There was a loud crunch as he covered the stone entirely with his fist, and when he retracted his grip, there was only a piece of bread and some gravel that remained. After the Vanir blew the dust away, he handed me the morsel and with his other hand, pretended he put something in his mouth. In terror of being in the presence of a god, I slowly reached my hand out to his and carefully pulled the bite to my mouth.
The bread did not taste like bread; in fact, it tasted unlike any other food I’ve tasted before. It was sweet yet bitter, bitter yet salty, salty yet sour; somehow, it was all of these yet none of them at the same time.
Freyr spoke once again and to my surprise, I could understand him. “You shall spend a long time here among my subjects; therefore, I grant comprehension of their tongues and of many other tongues should you honor them. I have also healed you of your earthly ailments.”
I was speechless. I dropped my head to the river so that my nose was grazed by the water. This was a remarkable gift I was given, to be healed by Freyr and to understand the words of all people, but it also didn’t seem satisfactory. Being able to talk with the alfar wouldn’t help me get back home; my family was probably starving or still grieving over my death. My mind then crossed over to Freyr’s ship Skidbladnir. No other ship was better than his and even the greatest fury of Aegir couldn’t lay it in ruin or even distract it from its course. Now bubbling with excitement, I gathered up the courage to request it from him, but a cry from the back of my head came in objection. “How arrogant are you? What right have you to accept a small gift from such as he and then to even imply him giving his most prized possession away?” Whether this was my conscience or some malevolence trying to stop me, I didn’t know, but that small statement blanketed my joy with shame, and I kept quiet.
“You have a request,” Freyr said in a concerned tone. “Speak what is on your mind, for I have asked to know what is in your heart and shall be the one to hold any shame in your words.”
“As you surely know well,” I began, making an effort to make my speech as eloquent as possible, “I once lived on the many islands that dot the sea, but Aegir, the giant at the bottom of the sea, looked upon me with contempt and thrust me onto these shores. You, bringer of joy to all mortals, have Skidbladnir, the ship with no equal. It would be a great honor for me to have Skidbladnir for a day, a fortnight if it takes that long, so I might return to my family and return to my peaceful ways.”
At first, Freyr smiled knowingly, then chortled, and then he laughed. “You have no need to speak in ways your tongue does not bend in, young one. I shall grant your wish, but only if you do not prefer the latter of my offers.”
A look of curiosity came over me as I said, “What do you mean?”
Gullinbursti, his faithful boar companion, came up beside him, and he petted the beast. “I may either grant you passage home, or I may grant you the power needed to end this blood-war between your two kinds once and for all. Choose wisely, for I may only give you one or the other, no more.”
I wanted to go home to my family with all of my heart, but my mind reminded me of my oath of retribution. But at the same time, where was the blood in that oath? To make a pact between oneself and himself means little and one cannot be condemned by it. A family, on the other hand, is a pact that has never been spoken between those involved, one that does not need etched stone or woven fabric to bear power, for it is forged of pure blood. The glint of the vial showed once more in my mind, and I realized…There was only one promise to be kept, that of the union of family. What a coward I would be to sail home now, knowing the Agrians had friends among the svartalfar. Only fools and those who have only strength in their feet would run home when faced with such terrible forces, such people only have peace for but a while, then they must run farther or be swallowed by plagued they feared once again. If it meant I had to live in this hellish realm or even slain by water, I had to stay here. They might grow hungry without me, but also without me they would be slaughtered to feed svartalfar.
I knelt down on the ground. “I must end this madness.”
“Fine, then.” Freyr nudged Gullinbursti, and the boar stood ready to mount. “Mount Gullinbursti, then.” The alf leapt onto his winged steed and I mounted slowly afterward. Being unaccustomed to mounting a boar, it took a little longer.
“Up the mountain,” Freyr shouted after I was firmly on. With a grunt, Gullinbursti took to wing and we were flying up the mountain. Despite how the boar only flew a few yards above the ground, we moved far faster along the path to the living tree than by foot.
Gullinbursti hovered effortlessly over the ground, before the tree, and landed so gently that a bowl of water wouldn’t spill. Dismounted, Freyr walked to the tree and placed his palm on it. “Long ago, before you people escaped from the Agrians, I gave this tree as a gift to a human ruler. In it, there is a power; one to bestow humans with comprehension of alfar magic.” He then reached up to a branch.
As I got closer, the branch began to bud. Those buds then transformed into what looked like orange pears, and Freyr picked one right as it was ripe. “Eat this,” he said while handing me the fruit. It was amazingly dry, but I ate it anyway.
When I finished, he shut my eyes. “Very well.” Freyr’s voice grew softer. “I adopt you as one of my subjects, all things they know, and all their powers you shall now bear too.” His voice was now that of a whisper. “Farewell, the forest dwindles as the fire rises, but the aspens shall rise in the end.”
I rushed back to the woodsmiths as fast as I could, and so great was my haste to see the alfar again that the bandages unfurled and fell off. Down at the site, I was amazed at what I saw once again. The alfar now radiated with their own light, and had physical forms similar, but frailer to their king. The lush grass rug that was beneath their feet blossomed with many flowers. When I looked at what they were building, I discovered exactly why it didn’t look like they were building a ship…They weren’t. It was, after all, only a basic reality that you don’t start with the whole thing, rather bits and pieces that you assemble into the finished project. Now, where I once saw a tall, barren tree beside one that looked all knotted up, I saw the beginnings of a mast and a helm.
“He did not give me power,” I said to myself as I looked beyond the trees to the forest, “he gave me life.” I then went on to gathering those triangular stones, actually feeling guilty to take them from their resting spots.
The alfar also looked at me with equal surprise, seeming to think I was familiar and unacquainted at the same time. They all gathered together, their images blurring together as they conversed, thinking I couldn’t understand them. “Why does the human look like us? Is it blessed or an impostor? I don’t think it is a fraud, no one would be so foolish as to leave such an obvious flaw in their disguise. Yet what could have happened to him for this to happen? Let us take him to Niale, he will know which is true. Agreed.” One of the alfar then looked at me and commanded me to follow. They led me to the clearing where Kaihar spoke with Niale. It was no longer a lowly marsh in the middle of the forest; I saw in place of that glum site a courtyard with a massive pond. Niale was floating aloft in the center of the courtyard. One of the alfar called to him and he came forth to us.
Across the Kolgan Sea Page 5
