Asgard Awakening

by Blaise Corvin

  Trav had a new spear. The weapon looked like a finely crafted steel weapon, but he knew better. Even a basic weapon of the gods would be extraordinary by mortal standards.

  The tired man walked silently for some time, lost in thought, and Narnaste left him alone. Now that his mind had expanded, he could use his emberstone eye to see telltale marks in the cave wall, noting an exit. The eye itself felt stranger now too. Hot. Trav could tell that things were changing within him. It wasn’t like he could do anything about it now, though.

  Instead, he contemplated his new signet ring. The unidentified silver metal was blank, just like the new necklace he wore, but Trav knew he could touch it with his imprinted shiv to burn his mark into it, leaving a tiny bit of his newfound power inside. If he did so, he’d be able to use the ring for mystical things, like further binding Narnaste—but he wasn’t in a hurry.

  Going that route would require fully embracing his role as...whatever he was. Now that he was past the heat of the moment, and had had some time to think about his meeting with Odin, Trav felt a little overwhelmed. The implications of what he’d been told were staggering.

  Luckily, at least he had a plan now. He turned to Narnaste and said, “How far away is this Faithful village again?”

  “Bruman is about two weeks away, Great One.”

  “Don’t call me that or Lord.”

  “Yes, Holy One.”

  Trav gritted his teeth and spun, grabbing Narnaste by the shoulder. He moved her to fully face him and his single, uncovered eye blazed as he grated, “You are following the letter, but not the spirit of my request. Scratch that, it’s not a request, that was an order.”

  The Kin woman’s eyes widened, and her bottom lip trembled. She seemed torn between anger and fear. Her natural unease at taking orders from a human was probably warring with her religious convictions and the connection that she had with Trav now. A hand began drifting down to her side, toward her seax, but the tall, bearded man from Earth searched his borrowed memories and snarled, “You will follow, little wolf. This situation was as much your choice as mine. I can compel you using our bond, but that would ruin you. However, if you will not even follow my wishes about this, I have zero reason to believe you will listen to me about anything else.”

  “I don’t want to cause any offense or disrespect,” said Narnaste. Her damaged ear quivered.

  Trav thought back to how Kin he’d watched before had always required their human slaves to address them. “Fine,” he said. “You will call me Master, or Master Trav, then.”

  The bestial woman’s mouth gaped open for a second, showing her fangs, but she closed it with a snap. She was silent for a moment, before quietly replying, “Yes, Master.”

  “How disgraceful,” said a new voice from the darkness. Trav and Narnaste both spun, and the Kin woman began growling deep in her throat. From beyond the pool of light cast by the glyph torches, four Kin walked forward.

  Two in the back were Dacith, chittering to each other and staring hungrily at Trav. Their rat-like faces bunched up, showing sharp front teeth, and their beady eyes glittered. One of the two Kin in front looked like a huge, muscled man with a goat head. He wore armor and was practically covered in weapons.

  The last Kin, also male, had three yellow eyes, a too-large mouth with pointed teeth, and a forked tongue. He stared at the canine Kin at Trav’s side and said, “Narnaste, we meet again. If I had not witnessed that little scene, I would have never believed that you would ever turn traitor...but here we are. As you probably know, you have to die now. Obviously, if I didn’t already hate you, I’d probably take a payment, perhaps even your body, but that path is closed. This is actually great luck. I can take care of you; I’m sure I’ll be praised, maybe even given a promotion!”

  The four new Kin moved forward, and Trav gripped his spear.

  Chapter 11

  Before he’d been a slave, prior to all the painful, terrible lessons he’d endured, Trav might have taken a step back. However, he was different now, free. More importantly, his body still burned with magic power, and he currently held a real weapon for the first time on Asgard. “Who are these chucklefucks?” he asked Narnaste, the last word in English.

  “The one with three eyes is Fodrik Prirbani. He tried to wed me; his family has money, but no legitimacy. Luckily, my family is not useless and cruel like the Prirbanis, so my father actually consulted with me and refused. Fodrik did not want to take no for an answer and tried to kidnap me. After I fought him off and left him with three black eyes, he made himself scarce for a while. It’s safe to say he’s hated me ever since then.”

  The three-eyed Kin man bared his sharp teeth and hissed, “That was years ago. You may find that things have changed now, bragging, human-loving whore.” The insult had been in the Asgard language, and Trav narrowed his eyes at how harsh the words had come. There was definitely no love lost between these two.

  Narnaste ignored the slur but didn’t take her eyes off of the advancing Kin. She continued sideways to Trav. “Quite a few have wondered how his family has stayed in power—Fodrik in particular. Some Kin that opposed this piece of dung over the last few years have disappeared. I guess we just stumbled upon how that has happened. Murderer,” she spat directly at her old foe.

  Fodrik narrowed all three of his eyes. “After the attack, when the order came last night for our generation to take Dacith and round up lost human slaves, I’d taken it as an opportunity to check my caves here. Who would have known that I would have received such a blessing from the Dead Masters!”

  “High Masters,” corrected Narnaste, showing her fangs.

  As the menacing group prowled closer, the Dacith moved up front, their eyes boring holes into Trav. The horrible, vermin-like creatures trembled in excitement, their hand-paws making grasping motions.

  Behind them, Fodrik chuckled and said, “I always suspected you were one of the Faithful, Narnaste, but even I would never have guessed you were a traitor. On top of that, addressing one of these Midgard creatures as ‘master?’ Letting one talk to you like that? I thought I was a deviant for some of the things I’ve done in these caves to humans, or with the lower caste, but you definitely win in this regard. Even after the attack by the Cultists, and the damage they did to one of my businesses, I have to admit this might end up being one of the best days of my life!”

  Trav frowned and tried to think of the best insults in the Asgard language that he knew. This Fodrik Kin bastard seemed to be everything that Trav hated about their kind. “Hey, freak, you ugly fuckstick. How about you stop taking joy in what a cowardly, womanly, weak-armed moron you are, and focus on how you are hiding behind Dacith while bullying a human and a female. Coward.”

  Narnaste turned in surprise, eyes wide, before warily watching their advancing enemies again, but Trav had caught a slight smile. Fodrik, on the other hand, let out an explosive breath, almost like he’d been gut punched. When he finally spoke, his voice came out as a near whisper, like he still couldn’t believe how Trav had spoken to him. “Who do you think you are, slave? Some nobody Kin woman indulges in depravity with you, and you suddenly think you are my equal? You may be the stupidest, most arrogant creature of your kind I have ever seen. Who knows, maybe some of the human women I brought down here to ravish also thought they were above their station after I was done with them, but most were too busy wailing to talk before I cut their throats. I guess we will never know.”

  Trav snarled, “That doesn’t surprise me, goat-fornicator. Actually, I see you have a goat friend right here. Do you ravish him too? But yes, it is not surprising that you must force yourself on human slaves for pleasure. Any Kin woman would be strong enough to get away from the awkward advances of your misshapen little worm.” The insults were definitely not like any that Trav had used before on Earth, so for good measure, in English, he said, “Get fucked, you creepy, something-under-the-bed-looking, stereotypical villain with an inferiority complex, momma’s boy rapist.” Trav let every bit of ha
te and scorn that he held for Fodrik and everything he represented fill his voice.

  “Goats?” asked the three-eyed Kin softly. “Goats? Beornik is one of my family’s faithful servants, but even he is too good to kill something as useless and unimportant as you.” Mottled white and red rage filled the ugly Kin’s face as he visibly struggled with his temper, but he ultimately lost, screaming, “Dacith, kill him!”

  After that, all hell broke loose. Narnaste moved as if to protect Trav, but the two Kin men went straight for her. The Dacith drew a large sword, and Beornik, the goat man, produced daggers in both hands.

  A darting Dacith hissed in pleasure as it clawed for Trav’s throat. The tall human man darted back, moving much faster than he could have a couple days earlier, and the attacking creature seemed utterly stunned as it looked down at Trav’s spear in its stomach.

  There was no time to check on Narnaste as Trav fought with the Dacith. The disgusting creature he’d spitted was slower now, and bled like a stuck pig, but it wasn’t down yet. Of course, Kin resilience was one of the many reasons why any human that fought fairly with them would almost always lose.

  As Trav dodged deadly claws and gnashing teeth, he remembered whispered stories told by slaves in the mines, tales of humans killing Kin. It was said that the only time Kin could reliably be killed was through strength of numbers, or massed fire, or surprise, or some combination. But even those advantages didn’t always work for more powerful Kin...or at least, so the stories went. Luckily, Dacith were some of the least powerful Kin on Asgard, and Trav was...greater now.

  Although he was no master with a spear, Trav’s checkered past on Earth had involved more scuffles than he cared to admit. He’d also known some martial arts even before his cousin Ash had become the family’s little crown jewel, a martial arts genius. Before their relationship had turned sour, Ash had taught Trav some of what he knew. Old resentments burned even as Trav fought nightmare creatures on a different world.

  The heavily wounded Dacith held back, letting the other, fresher one take the lead. Trav had still gotten some hits in, though—the lead monster still bore a few cuts and stabs. The human man was having a hard time landing a good hit, though. Kin were so fast, almost as soon as Trav managed to draw any blood, the damned things were already springing back off the point!

  Despite being armed, and the Dacith being unarmed except for natural weapons, Trav had a hard time just staying alive. Every time he thrust with his spear, the second murderous Kin would dart forward, trying to end his life and usually almost succeeding. The amount of power the small, rat-like creatures had was unreal. Trav outweighed them by probably almost double, but before his rune-driven transformation, either of the creatures could have easily overpowered him.

  Now he was definitely stronger, and probably even technically faster than they were and armed to boot, but the Dacith had had a lifetime of experience with their natural strength, while Trav had had less than a day.

  As he fought, dodging another set of sharp, snapping teeth, Trav heard some worrying sounds coming from Narnaste’s fight and gritted his teeth. He realized that he was too new to his newfound power and didn’t know how to really use it yet. In the middle of a fight like this, he couldn’t exactly take a break to start drawing runes, either.

  He needed a plan. Trav had a feeling that Narnaste wouldn’t last much longer two versus one.

  After a half step back, the bearded man felt a rock on the ground behind him and ignoring the danger, took a chance. Feigning a stumble, Trav fell back. Almost immediately, the lead Dacith leaped forward, clawed hands grasping. But instead of pliant human flesh, all the creature found was a sharp spear point through the roof of its mouth. Trav had braced the butt end of his weapon against the ground to be sure of a killing strike.

  Unfortunately, the other monster was still free to act.

  The second Kin, the one Trav had first wounded, sprang on top of him, pinning one of his arms. The muscular, scarred human man managed to grip the top of the Dacith’s snout, keeping its teeth away, but the creature’s claws flashed forward, ripping and tearing. Trav’s armor was not made of ordinary steel, probably originally crafted for a hero or a noble. Otherwise, it would not have withstood the Dacith’s ferocity. Although the armor stayed whole, the creature still managed to fit the tips of its sharp claws through the metal rings, painfully scoring Trav’s side, turning that half of his clothing into a bloody mess.

  With a grunt of effort, Trav kneed the thing as hard as he could, creating enough room to free his pinned hand. The creature was almost immediately on top of him again, and Trav snarled, feeling himself reflexively activate his emberstone eye. After a curious whimper, the Dacith recoiled, and Trav drew his magicked shiv, planting the crude weapon through the Kin creature’s eye socket. Its horrible mouth opened impossibly wide, displaying its terrifying yellow teeth, and it thrashed back. Trav freed both his weapons, pocketed the shiv and turned to help Narnaste.

  The first thing he noticed was another lantern of sorts, one he had never seen before. The light device looked very complex at first, but Trav eventually realized it must house emberstone inside as a power source. Fodrik or his friend must have dropped it to create more light.

  The bearded human man grinned viciously as he saw the dead or dying goat man on the ground, terrible wounds visible on his head, neck, and shoulder. But then Trav looked further down the tunnel and sprinted forward with a curse. Narnaste was on the ground, Fodrik standing over her.

  On his way past the downed goat man—Trav had already forgotten his name—he scooped up a dagger from the ground and hurled it at the leering, three-eyed Kin. Through more luck than skill, the weapon flew true but hit the Kin-man with the butt end, not the blade. The energy of the impact still spun Fodrik around, making him grunt in pain. His trio of eyes widened, and he barely managed to get his longsword up in time to block the charging Trav’s spear.

  Trav struck again, forcing the Kin man back, farther away from Narnaste. He didn’t know if she was still alive, but the way the disgusting, evil, frog-faced monster had been about to stab her was hopefully a good sign. Trav planted himself in front of Narnaste, glaring at Fodrik over the tip of his spear.

  “Try me, fugly,” he growled.

  The Kin man’s eyes widened in outrage, and he screeched, flashing all his sharp teeth and a thick, slimy tongue. The scream echoed down the tunnel, and Trav wished he had another set of hands to cover his ears. Then Fodrik attacked, and there was no more time to think about anything other than staying alive.

  Even in the tunnel, where Trav had a huge advantage with his spear over the evil Kin’s longsword, and despite technically being a little bit stronger and faster than the monster he fought, it was all Trav could do to hold his ground. Even so, it surprised the hell out of Fodrik.

  “What are you?” he growled.

  Trav didn’t answer; he just felt a sinking feeling. He was breathing so hard he couldn’t even spit any more insults. If things kept going this way, he was going to die for sure. After three years in the mine, escaping the collapse, after learning magic and taking control of his destiny, it would be brutally tragic if he perished like this.

  He held on longer, desperately thrusting with the spear, kicking, using every trick in the book to keep the deadly longsword blade away. Trav truly began to despair, ironically remembering poor Asta when he saw a chance approaching. Like with the Dacith earlier, this opportunity would come at great risk, but Trav didn’t know what other option he had.

  As he used his carved eye to see better in the dark, keeping his face under control was difficult, and grew harder as the seconds passed. Finally, the perfect moment arrived, and Trav put everything he had into a series of lightning-fast stabs, the explosive attacks forcing his skilled opponent backwards...into the claws of a troll.

  Fodrik screamed as he was pulled into the darkness, and Trav didn’t wait around to watch what happened next. He bent down to retrieve his enemy’s fallen longs
word before turning and running to Narnaste. When he saw her condition, he hissed, but her chest still rose and fell. She was alive.

  Trav dropped both weapons he carried before lifting the unconscious, heavily bleeding Kin woman into a fireman’s carry. She still wore the pack from earlier—getting her up was a bit awkward, but fear gave Trav energy like nothing else ever could. His back felt cold, imagining the troll’s huge hand coming out of the dark for him.

  After the Kin woman’s weight had been settled, he bent at the knees to grab his spear, Narnaste’s fallen seax, and the longsword before running for his life. Behind him, he could hear snarls and howls, but he didn’t take any time to look, he just mentally turned off both glyph lanterns on the ground using his failsafe switch and kept his emberstone eye activated to see in the dark. It was noticeably more powerful now.

  Everything ran together through time, just a series of different aches, pains, and fears all congealing as Trav escaped through the dark tunnel. In the back of his mind, he considered dropping Narnaste but decided not to for multiple reasons. Kin or not, it wasn’t right—she was at least a firm ally by now, and even three years as a slave couldn’t change the core of who Trav was. His heart rebelled against thinking of Kin as people, and part of him deeply distrusted the lupine woman, but another part of him had ached to see the horrific combat injuries that had been inflicted on Narnaste’s beautiful body.

  Trav had no idea how to help the Kin woman. He’d seen the wounds after all, and he had some basic first aid items in the pack, but nothing like the minimum required to save Narnaste’s life.

  With his mystic night sight, Trav noticed skeletons against the walls, some old, some new. He wondered how many of them were human and Kin that Fodrik had brought down here to kill...or worse. Trav smiled grimly as he raced through the tunnels, following the mystic signs toward the exit. He wasn’t a fan of trolls, but they had to eat too, and he was glad the one he’d just encountered had been able to meet that three-eyed asshole. Hopefully, they killed each other.