The Prophecy of Asgard

by James Malcolm Elrick

  “But what if leaving us in Alfheim is fine with Freya?” asked Grum.

  “No,” said Farling flatly. “We are her heroes. She will not abandon us. The elves have just had a setback, that is all. They may have lost a battle, but the war continues. She knows that, she will not forget us.”

  “Wait!” interjected Arastead. “Peg has seen something, something bad makes its way towards us.”

  And as he spoke, Peg ran from the shadows. Arastead bent over and she jumped easily to his shoulders.

  Everyone raised their weapons.

  “Where is Mage?” demanded Grum. “If there is danger, he should help us? What if it is an ogre that was left behind? He could talk to it.”

  “We have our weapons, Grum,” said Farling, his voice calm. “Remember, we destroyed the Draugr, we fought frost giants, we should be able to handle whatever is coming towards us.”

  The ogre village square was large with polished flagstones under their feet. Soon, they heard a light scratching sound coming from one of the square’s corners.

  Farling bellowed: “Behind me!”

  “I see it,” hissed Grum pointing to a roof top.

  A spider, larger than anyone had ever seen before, easily as big as a horse, crawled across one of the buildings.

  “Would you say that is an ogre spider,” said Grum.

  “I would say it is ugly like an ogre,” said Arastead.

  “Do you think it will pass?” asked Grum.

  “I think it is hungry as the village has been empty for some time,” said Farling. “Princess, how is your aim?”

  Margret bent an arrow to ear, aimed and loosed.

  The spider’s many eyes watched the arrow streak towards it and, at the last possible moment, jerked its bulk to one side.

  The arrow harmlessly bounced off the rooftop.

  Margret frowned. Said: “Poor, it would appear.”

  She notched another arrow to her bowstring.

  The spider hissed.

  “As Mage said, princess,” began Farling, “see if you can predict where the spider will be, not where it is.”

  Margret nodded, breathed deeply, and closed her eyes briefly. She opened her eyes and shot. The spider’s eyes watched the arrow speed towards it but this time hesitated, and the arrow struck the spider on its back abdomen. The spider hissed in pain this time.

  Grum squinted and said: “I do not think that hurt it very much as the arrow did not lodge deeply. It looks as if the hide of that spider is thick and tough.”

  “As Arastead said, it is like an ogre,” he continued. “My war hammer will break through that thick hide.”

  And Grum rushed across the square.

  “No, Grum!” cried Farling. “We must fight with strategy. Rushing in is not a strategy!”

  “Yes it is!” yelled Grum over his shoulder as he lifted the war hammer ready to strike.

  Arastead groaned and said: “Mage said he is a warrior who can go toe-to-toe in battle. I think Grum now has selective hearing as he thinks he must go toe-to-toe in every fight.”

  “He will need help,” said Farling as he sprinted to catch up to Grum. “Else he might lose more than just his toes.”

  Grum gave a great battle cry as he charged and swung at the spider. The spider, easily anticipating Grum’s swing, jumped high in the air leaving Grum to only swing at air. Overbalanced, as he had expected to hit the spider, he lost his footing and fell to the ground. The spider landed on top of Grum, its eight legs encircling him.

  Grum lay on his back and as the spider tried to grab him with several of its feet, he jabbed it with his war hammer. As he barely had any room to maneuver, he was only able to hit the spider with a fraction of his strength. Still, as he wore the gloves and belt of strength, his small jab pushed the spider off the ground.

  Grum rolled over onto his hands and knees and tried to crawl away, but the spider simply landed on top of him once again.

  He yelled: “Some help would be appreciated!”

  By now, Farling, Arastead, and Margret encircled the spider.

  Farling lunged at one of the spider’s legs but the spider simply moved it out of harm’s way. Not expecting the spider to counterattack so quickly, Farling raised his shield just in time. He cut at the close leg and this time the spider was not able to move it out of the way. Black blood spurted from the wound. The spider hissed in pain.

  Arastead struck at the spider with his quarterstaff and found himself fighting and defending himself from two of the spider’s legs. The spider’s legs were thick and hard like the wood so when his quarterstaff struck a leg, the sound was as wood striking wood.

  Margret, with a blade in each hand, also fought several spider legs, and like Arastead, could not advance and cut the spider.

  Meanwhile, Grum tried to crawl out again, but the spider used one of its last remaining legs to hold him in place.

  “This is embarrassing,” Grum whispered. He tried again to strike the spider with his war hammer, but as the shaft of the weapon was quite long, he could not hit the spider with any force.

  “This is enough!” he cried and letting go of the hammer, he spun on to his back, and punched the spider as hard as he could.

  The blow caused the spider to lift off the ground. When it landed, it quickly leapt over everyone’s heads and landed far away.

  Grum scrambled to his feet and once again charged at the spider.

  Margret shook her head. “He does not learn, does he?” she said as she ran behind Grum.

  “He never will,” said Arastead.

  Farling called to Arastead: “Can you burn the spider like you did the Draugr?”

  “A good idea,” replied Arastead. He grabbed a handful of salt from one of his many pouches. “I must get closer to it and Grum must get out of the way.”

  Grum, as before, swung at the spider as hard as he could and the spider leapt out of the way causing Grum to once again fall onto the ground. But it was the opening Arastead was hoping for. Arastead threw the salt into the air above the spider. The spider appeared to sense something was wrong but did not move. Arastead mumbled the same spell he had used against the Draugr and Peg’s eyes flashed eldritch green. As the salt settled over the spider’s back, the spider twitched and jerked in pain as smoke rose from its back. The spider hissed and ran across the square, its many feet skittering across the flagstones. From a safe distance it glared at the group, its rage evident. In a few moments, the smoke stopped as Arastead’s spell ran its course.

  “I think it is pretty mad now,” said Grum.

  “Good,” said Margret, “because now it will make mistakes.”

  Drops of black blood dripped from several small wounds on the spider. It slowly advanced towards them, then suddenly leaped high into the air, a white rope trailing behind it. Everyone watched the spider as it continued leaping in a seemingly random fashion as the white rope grew in length.

  It was when the spider leaped high over them that the white rope then dropped on top of them. Grum swung at the rope but instead of hitting it aside, his war hammer stuck to it. Confused, he pulled hard on his weapon, but the rope refused to let go of his war hammer.

  Realizing the danger, Farling yelled: “The rope is the spider’s web! Do not let it touch you!”

  Grum kept on trying to pull the web off his war hammer but to no avail. Everyone else kept their eyes on the spider except for Grum so that when the spider leapt over the group again, the sticky white web fell across his shoulders. Grum momentarily looked worried as he let go of his war hammer and grabbed the web strand. Looking at the spider, and with a grin on his face, he called to Margret.

  “Be ready with an arrow, princess,” he said.

  Grum looped the web strand under one arm and pulled as hard as he could.

  The spider had never encountered any prey that could pull on its web so forcefully. The spider had been in mid-jump when Grum had pulled and so it had come crashing to the ground.

  In that one instance
as it landed on the ground momentarily stunned, Margret loosed her arrow.

  Her arrow flew unerringly and struck the spider directly between its many eyes. The spider went into convulsions, death could easily be seen in its spasms. Grum continued to pull on the web strand, keeping the spider off balance.

  Farling dropped his shield and ran towards the spider. He held his sword high and with a great cut, cleaved so cleaning through the spider’s neck that his sword struck the flagstones. The spider had not even tried to avoid Farling’s blow.

  Blood gushed from the wound as the spider slumped to the ground, dead.

  Everyone cheered. Grum kept trying to pull his war hammer free of the spider’s sticky web strand but to no avail.

  “Stop pulling, Grum, you will only make it worse,” chided Arastead. “Let me help as this needs magic.” He blew a small amount of salt directly onto the web and murmured a spell. And as Peg’s eyes flashed green, the web stranded melted off of Grum’s war hammer.

  Grum smiled his thanks to Arastead.

  They stood around the spider’s corpse.

  “It is a shame we cannot eat it,” said Grum, “as now I am absolutely famished.”

  But before anyone could say anything, the sound of clapping brought them all to attention.

  Walking towards them was Mage. “Well fought,” he said.

  “Where were you?” demanded Farling. “We could have been killed.”

  Mage shrugged, then said: “Part of the training. A small test, really. And you all passed.”

  Farling’s frown did not change. “You could have warned us at least,” he grumbled.

  Mage chuckled. “That would have taken all the fun out of it,” he said. “Now, as a reward, I have brought some food. First, clean yourselves up, then follow me.”

  Once everyone was clean, Mage said: “This way.”

  He led them out of the square, down some streets, and up some stairs bringing them to a rooftop.

  There, a blanket had been spread on the ground with many baskets of food and bread. Grum tore the end off a loaf of bread and took a gigantic bite.

  “Delicious,” he said somehow through a mouthful of food.

  Everyone chuckled as they filled their plates with bread, cheese, and dried meats and ate with a ravenous hunger.

  The sun began its slow descent off in the horizon by the time everyone stopped eating.

  “Well, for being stuck in Alfheim, the food is quite palatable,” said Grum patting his stomach.

  “I am pleased to hear that,” said Mage. “Now, let me list off all your mistakes in fighting that giant spider.”

  He then described in great detail how the fight had unfolded and where they had gone wrong and what they should have done.

  Margret grunted. “You make it sound as if we are to fight another giant spider,” she said.

  Mage grinned. Said: “No, but most fights will be of similar nature that you must determine a winning strategy, then follow it. You must learn to fight as a team, to fight as one.” He looked directly at Grum, who merely shrugged.

  “I thought I could take out that spider with one blow,” said Grum.

  “Never underestimate your opponents and never overestimate your strengths,” said Mage. “That will be your key takeaway from today’s training. Now, let us find you a comfortable place to sleep tonight.”

  “What if another spider attacks?” asked Grum.

  “I brought that spider in using a portal,” replied Mage. “Those giant spiders live far away from here. You do not need to worry about anything attacking you in this village during the night. I have also cast protective spells around the village. Nothing can cross those lines, except for rabbits, mice, deer, and such.”

  “Grum, you are not afraid of rabbits, are you?” asked Arastead.

  “Only giant ones,” said Grum as everyone laughed.

  ***

  In the room were several ogre-sized beds which looked comfortable enough to everyone.

  “We could all practically sleep in one bed,” said Grum. “They are so large, I may need a ladder to help me climb in.”

  “Looks like this room has been used recently,” said Arastead.

  Mage nodded. “When I visit, this is the room in which I stay,” he said. “There are candles here if you need some light during the night or early morning. And I will start a fire to keep away the damp.”

  He found some kindling and propped them up, leaning the pieces of wood against another. He found some dry shavings and placed them under the kindling. Then he called for Arastead.

  Mage and Arastead sat on their knees in front of the fireplace. “I want you to start this fire,” said Mage to Arastead.

  “Do you have a flint?” asked Arastead. “If I had one, I could light the fire with it.”

  Mage gently shook his head. “No, Arastead,” he began, “this time you will use magic to light the fire. And not the spell you used on the spider so effectively. That spell causes burning, which will not start a fire. Close your eyes and clear your mind, good. Now, hold your quarterstaff in one hand, it will focus your magic. Let your familiar amplify your magical abilities. And I want you to reach out to the Midgard Serpent, and picture the fire rune that adorns the serpent’s body in your mind, good. Now point at the shavings under the kindling and see in your mind the kindling catching fire, excellent. Now open your eyes.”

  Smoke rose from the small flames that had appeared on the kindling.

  Arastead quickly recovered from his surprise, then blew gently on the flames, till the kindling caught fire. Once those flames were strong enough, he larger and larger pieces of wood, till there was a roaring fire.”

  “Well done, wizard,” said Mage. “So, how did it feel to tap directly into the magic of the Midgard Serpent?”

  “I have done it before,” protested Arastead.

  “No, no, those were small spells with which your familiar helped you. This time I noticed you were more in control, you were in command, and your familiar was augmenting your magic, letting it happen, making the spell you wanted to occur, which is the way it should be. Over the next several days, I will help you reach out to some of the most popular runes used by wizards. We will also need to make sure you can make them stronger, more powerful if required.”

  Arastead nodded, grateful for the instruction. Farling and Grum slapped him on the back in congratulations.

  Mage stood, and as he spoke, he gestured in the air to help him depict what he was describing.

  He said: “Princess Margret channels fire, water, air, and earth magic but she brings it forth from Yggdrasil. That magic is used for healing, so the fire burns away infections, the water cleanses wounds, air dries injuries, and earth heals cuts and mends broken bones. You, young wizard, you channel your magic from the great serpent that gnaws at Yggdrasil’s roots. It too is covered in runes. Your magic is used for chaos, so your fire burns wood, your water shoves at boats, your air blinds armies with swept-up dust, and your earth undermines a castle’s wall, causing it to collapse. You can combine them as well, so air and water make fog, blinding your enemies. Remember though that chaos is still both the destruction and the making of things. You are already showing great promise, one day you will be fine wizard.”

  Arastead grunted: “My thanks, Mage, as no one has really given me much instruction in wielding magic. The only promise I had was from Jakobus, who knows of the Book of Princore, that he would help me understand the meaning of the book’s contents.”

  The eyebrows on Mage’s forehead moved up in surprise.

  “The book has been found.” His voice was hushed. “What did this Jakobus say to you about this book?”

  Arastead looked at his friends for guidance. Farling noticed his friend’s concerned look, then said: “You can tell him about Jakobus, being the king of dwarves and all. I suspect Mage already knew about him anyways.”

  “I did hear something,” said Mage. “The dwarves have always threatened to return. The elves suspec
ted with Freya’s curse lifted, that the dwarves would make a play for their return, for it is only by the will of the old Norse gods that the forges of the dwarves would once again be filled with hot coals. With the forges lit, it will wake the dwarves. I wonder what Freya has asked the dwarves to make.”

  “I could not read the book,” said Arastead, “but Jakobus felt that with my blacksmith skills and my potential as a wizard, I would be useful in making items of magic. I may not be as strong as a dwarf in binding magical runes to a sword or war hammer, but Jakobus felt I could have been of some use.”

  “Interesting,” said Mage, “that a dwarf would invite a young man into the forges of the dwarves.”

  “Well, I am not there yet,” said Arastead. “Alfheim is far away from the forges of the dwarves.”

  “About as far away as you can get,” agreed Grum.

  Outside, night was falling fast.

  “I must return to my room,” said Mage. “I will see you in the morn.”

  Everyone wished him a good night.

  Mage drew a circle on the floor with a piece of charcoal. He stood in the middle of the portal rune, closed his eyes and murmured a spell under his breath. In the blink of any eye, he disappeared.

  Farling said slowly and deliberately: “So, Arastead,” he began, “do you think you will be able to master a portal rune spell?”

  “If you have been wondering if I have been studying Mage’s portal skills, then my answer is yes,” said Arastead as Peg’s eyes flashed eldritch green.

  CHAPTER 24

  The Ravens Return

  King Cormac stared blankly at the Unbreakable Barrier that hid the Alfheim Gateway.

  “It is time we left, my king,” said Nas. “We will find a way into Alfheim, but it will not be by this gateway.”

  Cormac clenched his teeth so that the muscles in his jaw stood out in sharp relief. “She is my only daughter, my only memory of my wife. Is there another way into Alfheim?”

  Nas nodded. Said: “There is, we just need to find it.”

  “Then find it quickly,” said Cormac. “We thwarted the elves by destroying the Heart Tree. And in our moment of triumph, we lost. I would have rather had my daughter at my side as we battled elves instead of losing her after sealing the gateway.”