Addictive Nightshade

by Poppet

  “I don't know how!” I grumble, feeling insecure and inadequate again.

  “It's time,” he says in a no nonsense tone. “Partly because I need to see what your avatar is. It might help us. You could be an eagle with a wingspan of over eight feet. You'd totally kick my ass in a dogfight.”

  “Or I could be a plump white cloud, without direction, and who burns out in the sun,” I argue.

  “Or,” he growls, “You could be an owl. They're native to this region and to Scotland. There are no coincidences in Norse locations and secret disguises.”

  “And then my wingspan will be?” I ask.

  “Five and a half feet, more or less. Which still makes you larger than me as a bird. You'll top my wingspan by a foot.”

  “This conversation is insane. I sound like I've lost my mind.”

  Ignoring my crisis, he says to the scenery, “I think you'll be owl because your natural camo is white, and they're nocturnal. The nocturnal aspect fits with your harii ancestry, being a shadow who attacks at night. Skadi is known to adopt its form.”

  “Mac! I can't just do it because you insist I can!”

  “Actually, that's where you're wrong.” He holds up his hand, the one with the valhalla sigil, “I can make you do it when I do it.”

  Raising both eyebrows, I snap, “Oh really? And what else can you make me do with that? Damn it, Mac! Now you have me doubting everything I've experienced with you, how much of it was your interference?”

  “I can influence your inborn abilities, not control you! For fuck's sake, do you have such a low opinion of me?”

  Holding up my hands, I am fast sapping, “Stop, this is stress. This is rubbish. It's got nothing to do with my opinion of you–”

  “Wrong, it has everything to do with your opinion of me. If you doubt my integrity then I'm taking you back this second. If we've not got trust, we've got nothing.”

  “You know I trust you!” I wail.

  “Do I? Then why the hel are we having this conversation?”

  It hurts and despite my pride I can feel emotion precipitating in my eyes. Looking away I face the panorama, wishing I could just fly away.

  The more I think about it the heavier my limbs feel. I feel like I got stuck in quicksand. It's oppressing, bearing down on me like a black hole. It's a suck of gravity so severe it makes me bilious.

  And then I realize I can see the opposite ridge as clearly as if it is a foot in front of me. Looking about, the whole world is vivid, sharp, in focus, my vision zooming in with total clarity no matter where I stare.

  Turning to Mac to say as much I grumble when I see him in Raven form. The mutter comes out like the click of a tongue.

  What?

  “Mac?” I ask, and I say 'kew' instead.

  He runs at me scooting his head under my ass and forcing me to run away. What the hell!

  The ground's too close. Oh god! What the freak is happening? I have to lift my arms to keep my balance and the wind scoops down, lifting me. I'm hovering over the ground! Help!

  Flap your wings, elskling! laughs in my head.

  He pulls alongside me, sweeping his wings down so hard it buffers me, sending me into a ditzy tizz. Scrambling I copy him, the motion effortless, the sensation liberating when I arc up, flying for the clouds. What am I? I don't dare look for fear I'll fall. Focus!

  Owl, a big beautiful white owl. I knew it!

  Laughing with joie de vivre, my voice comes out in the cutest clucky chirrups, I still sound female even as a bird.

  Not just a bird, the hottest chick in the northern skies. Fuck Em, I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.

  Mac I'm scared! What do we do now?

  Fly, elskling. Soar!

  Lead me! I need someone to copy, I wail.

  He listens, flying ahead of me, able to look back often without plummeting, and I press my arms down when he does, lifting up when he does, glancing down and instantly heady with the distance we've climbed in no time at all.

  Over there, see it? Let's go flatten that mountain.

  Staring ahead I see it without the need of a telescope. Far away is a snow covered peak, waiting for me to resurrect it as Mt Macala.

  Nothing is impossible. I'm a Thur, a shadow, a raven, an owl, I'm a giant of Valhalla.... Oh my freaking god, this is tremendous!

  Now I know I can do what he says I can. I'm a badass chick who is the shit kicker, no longer needing to wear them while skulking in shadowed nightclubs.

  And then? I laugh to Mac.

  And then we catch a plane, walking in shadows, and go to our kin, the eagle. The world is ours, elskling. This is just the beginning.

  Flapping furiously I delve upward into the cloud cover, buoyed by it, elevated and accelerated out above them with my affinity to the vapor, like a valkyrie with the clearest view of heaven I watch as a dark raven appears from the brume ahead of me, one lone black shadow in front of the still rising sun.

  Daring to glance down I see a perfectly round rainbow on the clouds, like a portal of bifrost to Asgard.

  It is a portal to Asgard!

  Exhilarated I yell to Mac, and my soul ascends when I hear his exuberant caw back.

  The Raven and the Owl flew across the dawn, the perfect unity of our goddess Skadi, humble born who ascended to the rank of goddess and Odin's wife because she never took no for an answer, she knew too much, it was inside her all along.

  I didn't know owls could experience such liberating joy until a black beak clacks against mine and he strokes my wing with his, keeping me aloft, egging me on, to my destiny.

  Now I see it, so close, in his feathers he has a perfect triangle The mark of valhalla!

  Edging closer I tap it with my mouth, kissing it, a peck in every sense of the word. He spirals out of control, dipping head over tail and disappearing into the clouds. Panicked, I reach out with all my energy to feel the clouds, using my senses to knot them closer, making them so dense they force him up, expelling him back into the pristine view above the world.

  He butts me, indicating we land. Miserable that my fun is cut short so abruptly I follow him, tracking him the way a phantom follows a shadowrealm through the door of eternity.

  Alighting next to him he bites my wing, holding it fast, Don't change back.

  Watching him with utter confusion, I wish I could smile when he presses his head straight down to his chest, plucking out an ebony feather from over his heart, laying it gently on my feet, then snuggling in the nesting sit so he's positioned under my head looking up at me.

  Emma, will you marry me in a gifting of heart feather?

  My legs cave weakly on the stony ridge and I sit with him, struggling to pull a feather, screeching when I do.

  Mine has blood covering the white quill tip when I put it down over the feather he offered me. Resting my head tiredly over them, wishing I understood more so I could do this sacrosanct moment justice.

  A wide black wing folds over me, tucking me under his wing, a gentle timber cooing in my head, I promise I'll always take care of you. I'll always hold you under my wing and close to my heart.

  It's too much, too earnest and potent, the weight of strange gravity lifting. Seeing hands I wipe away my tears, picking him up as a raven, saying, “And I'll always have long hair for you to hide in, and a hood to keep you in the crook of my neck, close to my thoughts, and a nest for you in my heart.”

  He shifts, widening my hold until my arms are instead around his middle, kissing me in a fresh flurry of petal soft snowflakes.

  Lifted off my feet, his arms engulf me in support.

  When he finally releases me he bends, arresting our feathers, rudely tugging one of the long strands of hair out of my head, then stepping close, sifting his hand inside the neckline of my shirt, pulling out my Asgard chain. Methodically he binds his feather to my necklace, tucking it back in where it presses the promise over my heart.

  Then he hooks his own out to shine bright silver on his black shirt, using what's left of t
he strand to tie a white feather with a black tip to his. Only now do I realize it's representative of Skadi. White and black, embodied together in one unit. It looks like us. The children of the eternal night, the children of the eternal sun.

  Smiling like a maniac, I love that he's a romantic sap.

  Twisting so we're close, our bodies touching, he holds my hands, leaning in to kiss me, and I close my eyes, deliriously happy, when the wily man manages to hook my left hand so it can seal with his.

  My eyes burst bright inside my eyelids and I automatically open them, seeing not sky and cloud behind his head, but an entire atmosphere covered in glowing people just floating out there like the striations on a bubble.

  “Welcome to Jötunheimr, Emma.”

  Squealing, I'm bouncing with excitement when he snags me in his death grip, lifting me higher, our hands still sealed, and does a three-sixty holding me in his embrace.

  A star flick-flacks around, aiming right for us across the cloud bed surrounding our precarious peak.

  Mac doesn't even seem to have to think before he reacts, breaking our seal to punch his arm into the sky, catching the long trajectory.

  Pulling his arm down he offers me a luminous sword of crystal brilliance.

  “Your sword, madam. Now you're officially one of Valhalla's warriors.”

  I can't believe it. This is all like some fantastical dream.

  Tentative, I fold my hand around his fist, watching the 'angels' wink out of existence one by one as if the valkyries and gods simply made an appearance to witness my induction into the halls of Asgard.

  He lets me slide down him back to the ground. With terra firma solidly underfoot I dare to take a firmer hold, incredulous when he releases it and it's as weightless as a beam of light.

  “You are a shadow. Only shadows get the sword. With this you will slay evil men for Odin.”

  “But it's too pretty to use for murder,” I object, still in awe of my sword. It prisms like the rainbow crystals.

  “It's not murder. Your sword is a slice of spirit's power. It rescues the good locked inside the bad. There's good in everyone, but those who hurt just can't find it. We rescue them, Em. We aren't hurting them, we're simply stopping them from hurting others. It's that simple.”

  “Where will I keep it? We're in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Funny you should mention that, I have a little lair just down here, see...” He leans in, scrunching his substantial body to curl his shoulder over mine so I can follow the line of his arm and see where he's pointing, “that cave over there? It's the perfect den to celebrate our featherfasting. The world can wait one more day. This day is ours.”

  “This night is ours,” I smile.

  “Skal,” he whispers, so close with his chin over my shoulder it's a raven's feather away from another dizzying kiss, sealing destinies as effectively as a handshake.

  Exhilarated, I nod, stepping onto a precarious path, the first step as a harii shadow and warrior for light.

  The truth is the power was inside me all along, it just took me to face the shadows and meet them as an equal before the light empowered me.

  The day love set me free to fly.

  The End

  Glossary

  Afi: grandfather

  Akevitt: potato liqueur

  Andhrímnir: the chef to the gods

  Arghin – meaning 'noble light'

  Åsgårdsreia: The Wild Hunt (led by Odin). Directly translates as 'the ride back to Asgard'

  bacraut: asshole

  bifrost: the shimmering bridge to Asgard (heaven). It is a fleeting moment. Here one second, gone the next.

  blåbärssoppa: Blueberry soup (blár means black, but it is not a blackberry but a blueberry this refers to)

  Bokkøl: dark lager/beer

  brandr - sword blade

  brennevin: burning (scalding) wine (most alcohols)

  Búri: The father of all the Norse gods (all of them). He is the first (He is Odin's father).

  dléit khaa: white man (Tlinglit)

  Einherjar: lone warriors, died in battle and come back to Valhalla by way of the Valkyries

  eiðr: oath

  Eldhrímnir: the cauldron used to cook food for the gods

  elskling: darling / little love

  Fólkvangr: family / kindred catcher. Pronounced Folk-funger. It is a meadow like the Elysian fields, a nirvana warriors go to after death

  geirr: spear

  geitost: caramelized cheese

  gísil: arrow shaft

  glasir: gleaming (grove), glowing foliage

  Glæsisvellir: (pronounced glassisfeller) Is the home of the orchard of Læraðr apples. It is the kingdom of Gudmund (the friendly giant). Inside Glæsisvellir is the acre called Údáinsakr/ Odainsaker, which means Deathless Acre.

  Gýgjar: a female Thur giantess. Known as a Thur (Þur), they are credited with raising and creating the mountains on earth. The mountains belong to them, and at one point they were known as man-eaters (the thurs both male and female). This is not literal, but rather known as 'destroyers of man'. They embody a certain bloodlust. The destructive forces of nature are accredited to the Thurs/Þurs (Þur and Thur means mountain raiser). The rune with the letter P on it represents this elite race.

  Harii: Warrior. (pronounced hurri). Norse warriors who wear black and attack at night, using black camo on their hands and faces. So stealthy they are called a ghostly army.

  heim: home

  heimr: home

  hel: Norse goddess of the underworld

  hjorttron: first berry

  hrafnasueltir: coward

  Iðunn – Norse goddess who offers all 'eternal life'. (Pronounced Idunn)

  Jævla: damn

  jøl: (Pronounced yoll.) party / good time - (the root word for YULE.)

  jøller: (yoller) party animal

  jötnar: giants so beautiful they constantly emit an aura of light

  Jötunheimr: the land belonging to the Jötunn, right outside Asgard (all J's are pronounced as y. Yottunhighmer is how you'd pronounce this). Jötunheimr is the home to the frost giants, rock giants, and simply put, all Giants.

  Jötunn: giant (yo ton). The Jötunn are an ancient race, being the first beings created, they carry wisdom from bygone times. Giant was the name given to the race who 'live amongst rocks'. One could say who 'live in the rocks'.

  Kake: Tlinglit word meaning Daylight

  karsk: agility / strength.

  Læraðr: the golden apples (pronounced la-ra-or)

  Lakkalikööri – cloudberry liqueur

  leikr: spar

  liebling : darling

  ljótr: to give light

  lombungr: moron

  Macala: means full moon (in Hebrew it means 'like god')

  mækir: sword

  Midgard: translates as middle yard. (see Utgard for a full explanation). Tolkien played the Norse myths very well in his LOTR series, calling it 'middle earth'.

  Mimer: an old and wise jötnar, who owned and guarded the secret well of wisdom.

  ormstunga: forked tongued (serpent tongued)

  óss /áss: god

  Þjazi: Norse eagle god, his name is pronounced Thiazi. (Skadi's brother)

  Ragnarök: Fate of the ruling powers

  Sæhrímnir: mythical beast used to feed the gods (NOT a boar!)

  Skaði: Skadi (pronounced Skaahdee). Her name means shadow. She is a great jötnar / Giant goddess, wife to Odin, mother to most of the Norse gods, she is responsible for snow, (apparently loved to ski and invented it), winter, shadows, darkness, and eternal sun. She glows with an aura of bright light (like the aurora borealis).

  Skal: Cheers

  Skald: poet/bard

  Sleipnir: Odin's six legged steed

  soppa: soup

  steinn: stone

  sveinn: young warrior

  T'ach'naa: the very direction

  Thundereggs: small stones with crystal/quartz/marble insides (really beautiful, and some people collect them)


  Thurs: A group of elite soldiers / warriors, also known as the seven thunders

  Tlingit: A sect of Native Americans, residing mostly in the top of Canada and Alaska. Their numbers are diminishing. As a people they are under threat of extinction.

  uskit'r: shit

  Utgard: Outyards. The stronghold of the giants. A well known playground for Loki and Thor, this is where they held their competitions. This is the third 'world' rooted to the world tree (Yggdrasil). Asgard, Midgard, and Utgard are considered the concentric land of the giant Norse gods. Asgard is in the center, Midgard encircles it, and Midgard is encircled by Utgard. The layout is very similar to the legendary layout of Atlantis. It is circular, not ascending descending like a ladder. There is no upper and lower.

  Valhalla: hall of the slain. This is where Odin's chosen warriors go to after death, located in Asgard (heaven), taken there and guarded by the valkyries (female angels). Val means 'fall'. Halla, is hall. So it is the vast hall of the fallen (dead). The orchard of the shining apples Læraðr is outside the hall (Valhalla), and it is here that the warriors plot with Odin to bring about the end of turmoil and conflict with Ragnarök. Here they live forever with eternal life.

  Valkyries: Val – fallen. Kyries – carriers. They carry the fallen / dead. The valkyries are allies of the Ravens (for real). Some sources call the valkyries the choosers of who live and die (in this guise they are similar to the fates.) Either way they are winged women, 'angels', who live in Asgard (heaven). They are affectionately referred to as Odin's girls.

  Viddas gull – highland gold

  vig – struggle

  Wankan Tanka: The Great Mystery/Spirit (from which all life comes, to which all life returns)

  xh'aséikw: Tlinglit word for your life force (chi / soul / spirit)

  Yddragsil: the world tree which joins all kingdoms, those of the gods to those of men. It joins heaven and earth, reminding all who follow that we are not separated, we are all one 'organism'.

  Ymir: when two enormous forces meet the birth of the giant Ymir happens. In Norse mythology the tale is thus: From Niflheim flowed the poisonous cold streams called Elivagar, which became hardened into ice, so that one layer of ice was piled on another in Ginnunga-gap, or the abyss of abysses, which faced the north; but from the south issued heat from Muspellheim, and the sparks glittered so that the south part of Ginnunga-gap was as light as the purest air. The heat met the ice, which melted and dripped; the drops then, through his power who sent forth the heat, received life, and a human form was produced called Ymir, the progenitor of the Frost-giants (Hrimjmrsar), who by the Frost-giants is also called Aurgelmir, that is, the ancient mass or chaos.