Asgard Awakening

by Blaise Corvin

  “Maybe Wild Ones, blood ghouls I think. Why?”

  “Blood ghouls, huh? That sounds pleasant. Why are they called blood ghouls?”

  “They usually pull their prey apart into small pieces and lap up all the blood first before eating the meat. They’re really quite mindless. I believe they usually live underground in crypts, but sometimes they break out in a group, and a city’s military has to put them down.”

  “Lovely.” Trav continued to watch the images in his mind, observing with no sound as the creatures tore at the walls, trying to break into the stone building. One of them that had been beating on the door suddenly flailed back, a spear through its gut. Someone inside the house had skewered the creature through a hole in the door.

  Then one of the monsters managed to bend a bar in the window, trying to force its way through the gap. It fell back too, screeching from a mortal wound in its neck. Whoever was inside the stone house was putting up a good fight, but the ghouls were obviously strong, determined, and not going away. It would only be a matter of time before they got in.

  “This isn’t my problem,” said Trav out loud.

  “What, Master?”

  “Sorry, Narnaste, I’m thinking out loud. Give me a second, please.” He felt a hand on his back and realized that Ysintrill was offering him support despite not knowing what was going on. The gesture touched him and helped him decided what to do.

  Yes, some of the slaves back in the mines had been terrible people. Most of the Kin he’d met should be exterminated. The humans back in the walled village—praying to dark gods and sacrificing children—should have been flayed alive and tossed into a world of salt. But there were good people on Asgard, too. People like Beth had been. Some of the other slaves had shown true nobility, too. Then there was Ysintrill, and even some Kin like Narnaste apparently weren’t so bad. Like it or not, all of his Valkyries were family now.

  Part of him didn’t want to put them in danger, but his honesty about the pockets of decency in this world added to his curiosity—who was living in a stone house out in the Asgard boonies? He sighed. It didn’t matter what world he was on; it seemed he was destined to always do everything the hard way.

  “Narnaste, head to the right, please. Turn on some speed, too. We’re going to save someone—I think.”

  “Master, there is a fight?”

  “Yes. We have some ghouls to kill.”

  “I hate ghouls. This is good,” said Ysintrill. Trav didn’t have to look to know she was probably adjusting her quiver.

  As the huge, eight-legged wolf turned and began loping where Trav had indicated, following his directions, he wondered how Yaakova had communicated with him over such a long distance. Maybe the rest of the Valkyries were hiding things too, or had yet to discover them.

  At least he knew now that all the Valkyries could transform, and what Ysintrill could do. He’d found out about it a couple days ago, and had a feeling it would prove handy in their coming fight.

  Trav felt strangely stress-free as he rode toward yet another life-and-death struggle on Asgard. But he wasn’t alone anymore, and he had a huge red murder wolf.

  Some freaky Asgard monsters were about to have a bad day.

  ***

  The ghouls didn’t know what hit them.

  Trav rode on the back of Narnaste, pointing with Hex. “Explosion.” The ground between a group of the creatures violently erupted, sending the howling nightmares flying.

  Ysintrill had faded to smoke, her shadowy figure running through trees before swarming up a large one. A moment later, she’d solidified back into her original form, drew her bow, and loosed an arrow. Despite her claims of poor archery skills, the attack had been deadly. Her simple equipment that Trav had made was not ideal, but the Valkyrie had made it work. A pebbly-skinned ghoul went down with a gurgle, an arrow through its chest.

  Narnaste bent and chomped down on a monster holding a club. As she shook her head to kill it, Trav pointed again. “Lightning bolt: forked.” Jagged lances of crackling power lashed out, splitting the air and knocking over ghouls like leaves in the wind.

  A small, black shape buzzed down from the sky, turning into Yaakova at the last second. The savage harpy woman laughed as she reached from behind a ghoul to tear out its throat. Her powerful leg lashed out, claws slashing the creature from waist to shoulder. She spun and solidified her feathers; the razor-sharp, iron-hard weapons cut the arm off another enemy. Then she changed back to her raven form, cawing in triumph as she climbed to search for a new target of opportunity.

  Despite the danger of the situation, Trav’s heart pumped in excitement, and he jumped down from Narnaste. The ghouls were undoubtedly dangerous. Each of them was probably the equal of a Dacith. A couple months ago, they would have been a deadly threat; a single one of them would have been able to completely overwhelm a group of humans. But Trav was not exactly human anymore. He’d changed, and backed by his three Valkyries, the blood ghouls didn’t stand a chance.

  One ran at him, screaming, its large teeth flashing. The creature’s face looked human enough to be disturbing, but Trav was desensitized by Asgard. He didn’t even flinch as he drove the point of his dwarven-made spear into its chest. The creature tried to pull itself forward, even as it died, but Trav wasn’t just going to stay there and let it. He twisted the weapon, making the ghoul’s terrible wound worse, and kicked it off the point.

  He’d dropped Hex to fight effectively with the spear, so he mentally willed the shiv into his hand again, pointed down, and said, “Gust.”

  A sudden howling gale erupted from the ground, and Trav jumped, letting the enormous air pressure carry him into the sky. After he was high up enough to see the entire fight, he located the largest group of living enemies. Maybe he could use a flashier attack now, one that used up more magic. “Cold scatter blast.” A large rune equation formed in the air, triggered, and the moisture in the cool air immediately formed into small, deadly icicles that slashed downward.

  The group of ghouls were hit, but only one went down for good. The rest of them had been injured but were still mobile. “Well, shit,” Trav grumbled. “That attack sucks. What a waste of magic.”

  He plummeted downward. “Soften.” Landing felt like hitting a trampoline, and he walked forward, deciding to use another powerful rune equation. The fight would probably be over soon, and he didn’t get many chances to practice his destructive magic on actual bodies. His earlier experiment with the ice attack was exactly the type of information he was looking for.

  A ghoul ran at him, screaming. It probably hadn’t seen him in the sky a moment earlier, or maybe it had, and it was just that stupid. Trav didn’t care. Now it was just a target. He pointed his dagger—and the monster went down with an arrow through its neck.

  Trav was momentarily tempted to yell at Ysintrill in frustration but stilled his tongue. He glanced over and saw her in her smoke form moving down one tree, then swarming up another for a better angle. She was just doing her job.

  Most of the ghouls were dead now. There wouldn’t be any more of them to practice on soon. Trav sucked in a breath and ran toward one of them. It saw him and hurried to meet him, its crazed, inhuman eyes wide with adrenaline and rage. When it got close enough, Trav enacted his experiment.

  He cocked back his hand holding Hex and held his other hand forward. “Accelerate.” A circle-shaped rune equation formed in the air, and he threw the shiv through it, aiming carefully.

  A sonic boom cracked as the blade was immediately catapulted to hypersonic speeds. The ghoul’s entire chest practically disintegrated as the relatively heavy shiv zipped through its body at the speed of an Earth rifle round.

  The impact from Trav’s attack was so profound, that in addition to the giant cloud of blood and offal, half of the creature’s body collapsed. One arm fell to the ground. The ghoul’s hideous face stretched in a pained, surprised expression as it toppled over.

  Behind the stricken monster, Trav’s dagger rocketed forward,
taking off another ghoul’s leg at the knee, bouncing off the ground, and slamming through a tree with a hail of dirt, rocks, and snow it had kicked up.

  Trav slammed his spear through the creature’s corpse he’d just killed and called Hex back into his hand. The weapon suddenly appeared, clean, not a hint of filth on it. Trav still wasn’t sure exactly how calling the soul-bound shiv worked, but he appreciated that he wouldn’t get blood all over himself. He’d been barely able to avoid most of the brutal mist he’d created with his attack. Good.

  Now he knew that he had a deadly kinetic attack in addition to the elemental magic he could generate. If he raised the power of this rune working, he could probably also make the dagger move a hell of a lot faster. Interestingly enough, since the shiv had already been in motion, the working hadn’t actually required that much energy to activate. Magic effects needed more juice if they were acting against the natural world. For instance, forming ice blades on a hot day would be much more difficult than on a cold day like today.

  Trav hadn’t been fighting the physical world too hard for most magic he’d performed, but some of the abilities had still been somewhat flashy. He’d used up over one bar of power. Wow.

  The last of the ghouls died, slashed to ribbons by Yaakova. She seemed to be enjoying herself. Trav cautiously walked to the door of the stone building. He stood to one side, out of the reach of any spear, and announced himself. “My name is Trav. We just killed all the ghouls that had been attacking—Wild Ones or monsters, whatever you want to call them.”

  The door swung open, and a fierce woman holding a spear stepped out. “There is no point staying inside, is there? You could just blow up my house.” She warily watched all of them but seemed to be focusing most on Yaakova.

  Smart, thought Trav. He examined the woman. She was Asian, or at least she looked Asian. Her long hair was held back in a flowing ponytail, and she wore loose-fitting, comfortable-looking clothing. Dark, almond eyes flashed with intelligence, and her generous mouth was set in a scowl. Her clothing was rough, practical and serviceable, but not very flattering. Trav got the feeling she’d be pretty if she cared about her appearance, but she obviously didn’t right now.

  “What is your name?” asked Trav.

  “Jang-mi.”

  “And what are you doing way out here?”

  She narrowed her eyes, but then her shoulders sagged, her expression turning resigned. “I am an escaped slave, and before that, I was living in Xing City. I was a martial artist and ability user.”

  “A what?” Trav placed his hands on his hips and met the proud woman’s eyes.

  “I come from another world. The Kin in this world call us Cultists. I may not be able to use my chi here, but I am not defenseless. If you mean me harm, then state your purpose and I will meet you appropriately.”

  Trav noticed her white-knuckled grip on her spear and the way she held her hand in a strange way over her chest. She was probably some sort of ability user who’d been on Asgard too long, and lost her power.

  “I don’t mean you any harm, but I’d like to talk. Are you going to invite me inside?”

  “Why should I?” Jang-mi stood on the balls of her toes like she could move at any moment.

  Trav rolled his eyes. “Because like you already said, I could just obliterate you right now, and there would not be a damn thing you could do about it.” He was tired of playing games with people and needed information more than friends right now.

  “Good point.” She gave one last suspicious glance at the Kin woman and the slaughtered bodies of the ghouls. “I suppose you can come inside, Trav. Please leave these—ones—outside.”

  “Watch your tongue, human, or I might eat it.” Yaakova smiled, showing off her sharp teeth.

  “Calm down, Kova.” Trav sighed. “Alright, Jang-mi, let’s have a chat.”

  Chapter 27

  The inside of Jang-mi’s house was simple and austere but seemed more than livable. She’d obviously spent time to make the place feel like home for her. It looked like she’d built the place herself, too.

  “How long have you lived here?” asked Trav. He’d been close enough now to tell she was probably in her late twenties or early thirties.

  “Over a year by the way this world judges them.”

  “I see. How long ago did you get here?”

  The proud woman sat on a homemade chair before she answered. “Two years ago. Why do you ask? What do you intend to do with me?”

  “You could thank me for killing all those ghouls.” Trav met her eyes. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be food right now.”

  “I could have—”

  “You would have died, and you know it. I don’t need you to suddenly trust me, but a little respect would be nice.”

  Jang-mi stared for a moment before exhaling. “You are right. Besides, you have that giant red wolf. You truly have the power.” She gave a lopsided grin without humor, and her shoulders sagged, but her eyes still glittered.

  “Oh, Narnaste?” Trav mentally sighed. He’d forgotten the Kin woman was transformed. His group probably looked as nightmarish as the ghouls had been. “She is my...fighter. I was once a slave, too. In fact, I haven’t even been free for a full month.”

  “You have monsters and Kin fighting for you. I have a hard time believing this.”

  Trav took a seat on the edge of a rough-hewn, wooden bench. “I don’t really care if you believe me, lady. You don’t have anything I need. Believe it or not, I just came to help—well, I was also curious. Why did you build your house in front of a cave?”

  “I believed it would be stronger. The cave gives me more storage space and a place to train.”

  “So you’re really out here by yourself?”

  “Yes. The other slaves lacked spirit to save themselves, so I went alone. I was working in a mill. We were not always fed well. I used to be a warrior, and slavery was miserable. I doubt you’d understand.”

  Trav stared for a moment. He hadn’t encountered any situation quite like this before. Back in the mines, most of the slaves had known who he was. After a moment’s contemplation, he leaned his spear against the wall, then began undressing.

  Jang-mi leapt back, aiming her spear at him. “So, your true intentions show themselves? If you—”

  “Shut up,” ordered Trav. “Just watch.” Despite the cold, he removed layers of clothing, eventually standing bare-chested. He knew that from the front, his body was a bit ghastly, with all the obvious damage he’d incurred.

  Then he turned and heard a gasp.

  Trav had never seen them himself, but he knew his back was practically one mass of scar tissue. He’d been beaten and whipped so many times, he’d lost count. Since he’d never lost his sense of self, his pride, he’d gotten punished more often than the others, but that had been alright. At least when the guards had been hurting him, they hadn’t had time to spend on the others.

  He slowly turned back around, and in a deadpan voice said, “I doubt you have had as difficult a time as me.”

  “What happened to you?” Jang-mi’s voice came out hushed, almost just a whisper. She seemed to see him again for the first time, her eyes traveling from his eye patch to his worn clothing, and the large, impressive spear he carried.

  “Working in the mines, mining for red stone. For years.”

  “I heard of that, rumors. They say nobody survives long in the mines. How did you escape—oh, that’s right. You have magic.” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion again. “And Kin followers. How do I know—”

  “Just answer some questions, and I’ll leave.”

  The stubborn woman was silent for a moment. “Fine. Ask.”

  Trav had noticed her accent before and had finally made a connection between her appearance, how she held her weapon, and even what she’d said before. He would have figured she was not from Asgard just by the accent—hers was even stronger than his—but now he realized she reminded him of the people he’d seen during the attack on the mine.
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  “Tell me, the world you come from, do they wear gis or martial robes?”

  “What?”

  “Oh, hold on.” Trav realized that since she didn’t speak English, or even the native language that well, she might not know the words he was using. Instead, he muttered, “Image” at the ground while pointing Hex.

  Jang-mi growled in surprise as the dirt floor began to move, resolving itself in a crude drawing of the kind of person Trav had seen attacking the mine. “Gis.”

  “Yes, this looks like it could come from my world. Why?”

  “Interesting,” said Trav. He rubbed his chin. “I think I might have seen some fighters from your world attack the Kin.”

  With a shrug, Jang-mi said, “Maybe so. They do that. Experts from various schools and families will go on raids through the veils. Beast people and Kin are desirable slaves.”

  “Slaves? How can you keep Kin…” Trav made a face and answered his own question. “They lose their power after enough time on your world, just like you have lost your power here.”

  “Yes. I am just a piece of the harmony. Hopefully, the universe approves of my new direction.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t know.” Trav stood. “What I do know is that your house is torn the fuck up, and I need to get going. We are heading to a village where Kin believe in the old gods. I’m assuming humans aren’t all treated completely like shit there, but if they are, it will change immediately. I will make sure of it. You are welcome to come.”

  Jang-mi warily stood. “It is true that my dwelling will require many repairs. The ghouls attacking means there might be another group nearby, too. I should probably move. However, I have nowhere to go, and any creatures could probably track me.

  "I don’t trust you, though. Traveling with Kin is ridiculous, and I have no desire to couple with you. I have nothing to pay you with other than my body, but I am not willing to use that currency.” She held her chin in the air, standing proudly. “What say you?”