The Holt

<<[1]She looked at her hands, thick red spots were making her fingers slippery. She hated it. Blood, hers or the enemy's were always a problem. It always made it hard for her to grab a good hold on her weapons, and sometimes, it made her feel like something terrible could happen. She paused and then stared at the object in her hands… “Interesting”... it was definitely very different from the sharp and short weapons she always preferred in her dreams. This was a long wooden and beautifully crafted bow resting on her left hand. It was embroiled in complex runes she recognized, in which the symbol “eihwaz” was highlighted. It reminded her of something familiar, but unreachable by her memories, and the more she chased for them, the farther they slipped off her grasp. The hollowing feeling returned at the thought, and as a way to anchor herself, she focused on the bow’s long string resting between her fingers. She took a moment to feel its tension and to shake away the sinking feeling of her blood-covered fingers. She closed her eyes and sharpened her senses until everything disappeared in darkness, everything except her target. She could feel it now, highlighted and pinned by all her other senses. In a fraction of a second, she let go an arrow that crossed several meters of the battlefield before piercing a giant creature to its instant death, fast, accurate, and merciful. The next shot was directed to the opposite side of the field, crossing whatever armor and flesh was in its path, until impaled the heart of a wider beast whose sharp breath of surprised and dilated pupils were all could do, before falling to the ground with a heavy thump. Changing her bow to the right hand, she used it to impale a couple more creatures aiming to her, unfortunately too slow to avoid her quick blasts. Letting her own breath out, she let her shoulders relax and her senses re-focus in search of …  no, no, no…  she figured her fingers were not the only slippery thing in this dream, norms if she could remember more …  Shaking the thoughts out, it took her no time to find what she was looking for, making her smirked in amusement at the feeling of a flying blade, cutting the air in a high pitch, coming right from her left, and passing a few inches away from her left ear. She opened her eyes to witness the weapon crossing the field and striking a small structure at a far wall, generating a cascade of explosions all over the surrounding ruins within the main cave of Svartalfheim. [2] Thanks Norms, she prayed, not sure if because the Dwarves were saved, or because of …  the thought slipping away … whatever was safe. She turned on her hills and proceeded to walk toward the blinding lights signaling the exit of the cave, but she stopped at the sight of Brok and Sindri, breathing heavily in relief, bodies clearly tired from fighting their part in the battle, and still holding each of them an ax of massive proportions. They locked eyes with her and smiled at her… smiled! She thought she had ever seen a Dwarve showing any kind of emotion, less of all one of happiness? Perhaps gratitude? It was hard to tell, but for sure it made such an impression as she would never again think of the Dwarves as heartless and cold creatures. She smiled back at them and saw how they both slightly bowed, still looking at her eyes, and placed their right fists on their chests, next to their hearts. Gratitude it is, then. Her own heart felt swollen at witnessing such an act, and well, also at the realization that Svartalfheim will be restored back to safety in no time, she was sure of it. As she reached the cave exit, she let the heavy rain hit her face, and finally washed her hands from the annoying blood. After a moment of delight of the heavy cold droplets, she resumed her walk feeling happy, especially as the quiet and familiar steps followed her, as they always do.>> 

Rei awoke suddenly. Touching her face, she realized real droplets of water were falling, not from the sky but from the oak tree’s leaves sheltering her short nap. "Thanks for waking me up," she said quietly, adjusting her stiff back against the trunk and cursing herself for thinking that resting on hard soil was a good idea. She was hungry and her stomach was definitely complaining. When was the last time she ate something? Oh, yes, at the Market, several hours ago based on how the constellations were aligned in the Asgardian sky above, at almost midnight position. Midnight, she thought, meant most Asgardians were likely enjoying themselves at the many taverns in celebration of the opening of the merchants' market season. For Rei's luck, this also meant she could sneak around the castle almost undetected. She smiled at the thought, and murmured “time to work! Let’s find out what makes this garden so special.”

[3] It took her a few minutes to fully examine the surroundings. This enormous garden was located at the center of the palace, she acknowledged, enclosed by four long and tall walls that lead the magnificent Asgardian sky. Mani, the bright moon of Asgard, was breaking out through sweeping clouds in the sky above, covering the garden in pale light patches and shadows moving across the field. It was breathtaking how the silver rays of the moon were lighting-up this place, those palace walls she recognozised as part of the royal chambers of the west wing, a generally empty area, secret and feared because of their ghosts. “The secret garden” she recalled the Palace staff called it. 

In reality, not many Asgardians knew of its existence. For Rei, it was one of her favorites places during the years she was still adventuring the palace. Today, even as night, the garden was in full splendor, just as she recalled it to be. It was full of different types of tall trees, flowers, bushes, and scents of lavender, oak, light pine, and moisture soiled. Scents that brought back so many memories. She shook her head as a physical way to remove her thoughts, and continued the exploration of the garden. 

At the center of it all, there was a moss-covered boulder of irregular form, with all sorts of shades of green, small sprouts of tillandsia, lithophytes, all of them watered by a falling spring that cascaded down the rock into the small creek surrounding the structure. She tilted her head to one side as something caught her attention. The creek had small branches, “this is new”, she noticed, like spider webs carved into the soil, making its water spread onto the garden around. Rei, still sheltered by the branches of a big oak tree, moved forward a few steps following the path of one of those tiny water legs until she spotted some dark leaves at her feets, and the unmistakable essence of fresh green spices of the Turmoil. 

[3] Kneeling to be closed, she took her gloves off and touched the surface of the mature turmoil plant, and smiled at the feeling of its thick and dark green structure. But something was amiss, not in a bad way, she thought while turning, looking at the leaves closer. There was no sight of white spots, weak areas, or discoloration. The leaves were thick and strong next to the stem, and soft and thin at its ends. “Impossible” she murmured, smiling. Was she really witnessing a healthy  shrub?  Without hesitation, she took a small knife from her satchel and craved a triangle around the plant, cutting the soil with a sharp angle. With measured care, she put her gloves back and dug both hands into the ground, while grasping for the Turmoil thin roots that spread as spider-webs in the dirt. Cupping both palms around the haulm, she extracted the plant with a fast and skillful movement. Then, she raised the bulb at her eye level for further examination.

- “Hmm, not only the leaves are free of the disease” she said to herself, while turning the plant to observe her full contour. “Everything looks healthy!,” she exclaimed in pure astonishment, and quickly shut her lips closed in a futile attempt to suppress a new smile. Guess Erin was right, she downed her eyes to the ground, as almost always… 

- “I would have expected better of you,” Erin told her today, earlier at the Market, just as she was securing the last jars behind the table, closing her tent for the day. Erin’s voice was full of disappointment, as was her posture. Erin had hard lines across her eyes, pressed lips in upsetment, her hands closed in fists at her pristine plain dress. “I saw what you gave to Brunilda and it is not half of what we were expecting.” Erin paused, “over and over Rei, you keep disappointing your only family… It is your duty, for the norms’s love. I am sure Tyr would feel the same, if he were alive.”

- “I… ” Rei mumbled, heartbeat accelerating. Erin’s words always hit her stronger than any blow she had received, leaving her speechless every-single-time. “I…. I am sorry, Erin”

- “What excuses do you have now, ah?” At Rei’s silence, Erin pressed, “Perhaps something came up? An unexpected trip? Busy with harvesting? Or as you said, the soil disease?” Erin paused to breathe “ I am sure not, because there is no such thing as a disease!…  just look at the garden, see it yourself!” 

- “I … ”

- “Then why, Rei?“ Erin interrupted and paused again, slightly relaxing her fists, lips and voice, “why did you stop visiting the palace?“

For a moment Rei had the impression Erin’s disappointment at the market was not with her lack of delivery of supplies, and more with… well, with something else she will revisit later. For now, taking her broken feelings aside, she needed to acknowledge that this time, Erin was right. Apparently, the terrible disease consuming Asgard’s soils was nowhere to be seen here at the garden.  

- “Ok, ok little rascal…” Rei said to the plant, “So you leave in the Garden, ah? Let’s find-out what it is that makes you so different from your cousins in Asgard?,” added Rei, completely mesmerized by the healthy bulb.

Rei freed one of her hands, and searched within her satchel, extracting a thin cloth from it. Then she moisturized the fabric with rain-drops from the oak tree leaves above, and with known care, used it to wrap the Turmoil roots, leaving half of the haul and the leaves exposed. Finally, she carefully deposited the wrapped plant next to the Oak tree-trunk that was shading her nap a bit earlier. 

Standing in both feets and dusting-up her trousers, she looked at her surroundings again, searching for another dark-green bush. Jumping with grace from one shaded area to another one, she swiftly moved across the garden avoiding being seen, until she spotted it. “There you are!,” she whispered, and stepped forward, freezing herself in the act. “Shit…”, she murmured at the realization the small dark-green bush was in plain sight, all lighted up by the moon above, visible for anyone from the palace windows. 

In a swift jump upward, she landed at the top of a thick branch in the next Oak tree, three meters above the ground, and started climbing the tree with extreme easiness, until a small crack sound froze her in place. The corner of her left lips raised up, and without removing her eyes from the green plant in front she said, “I was wondering when you will show up. I was getting lonely here.” Lifting a finger and pointing it to the front, Rei added “right there, my friend, lies my only hope to figure out what makes this place so… unique. So, if you finally have decided to make a good use of yourself tonight, this is a good time to show it off,” Rei added, faking an annoyed tone, and smirking at the realization his friend was moving in her direction.  

- “See those windows over there, Fenris?” Rei pointed out the palace walls surrounding the garden. “I need to know if there is anyone looking from those chambers. Would you do that for me?,” she asked softly, while looking behind her shoulder, smiling at the sight of a little creature moving across the trunk, passing next to her, and stopping just at the end of the branch.  

Fenris cleared his face, pointed ears and small whiskers, with fast movements of his front paws, and without taking his eyes off the walls in front, he moved his long and furry gray tail rapidly. The next moment he threw himself down the tree, landing softly into the garden soil, and quickly disappearing within the foliage, only to reappear climbing up a creeper into the far wall of the garden. 

Rei observed with amusement, and a small smile on her face, how the little gray shadow of Fenris ran from window to window, balcony railings, and cornice mouldings around the four large walls surrounding the garden. Once a full round was completed, Fenris descended the same creeper, crossed the field unnoticed and climbed back to the Oak tree’s trunk, the branches, and Rei’s right leg, and deposited himself in one of her open palms. 

- “What is the verdict, Fenris? Rei asked, while offering dried nuts to the gray squirrel who happily took it with both paws. “Are we alone?” The small creature moved its whiskers and crawled Rei’s right arm and shoulder, where he finally sat and looked straight ahead. 

Fenris' silence was enough proof for Rei that they were alone or at least not being seen, so without missing a second, she jumped down at least five meters, and landed into the ground with incredible grace, like she weighed nothing. It has been so many years since she walked in this same garden … unafraid of being seen, free, and safe, she thought while placing her hands, unconsciously, on her stomach to ease the heavy weight she felt at the memories. “I guess it is better not to be fooled twice,” she thought, and covered her head with her cloak’s big hood. She then took a deep breath and walked forward in open sight, and kneeled in front of the green turmoil. 

Repeating the same procedure as before, she carefully removed the green bulb from the soil. Without loosing gasp of the plant, she moved next to the central boulder to soak a new thin cloth with water from the falling springs, and then wrapped the turmoil plant with it. Rei noticed that just like the other plant, this one had also not a single indication of the disease consuming Asgard soils. Satisfied with herself, she moved across the garden to return by the big Oak tree, where she deposited the second Turmoil plant next to the other, and slided her back down the trunk to return to a more comfortable seating position.

Grabbing a piece of bread from her pouch, she took a generous bite herself, and then handed it to Fenris who was now seated in her lap. Caressing Fenri’s head, Rei smiled at the squawking sounds he made.

- “You asked, what now?” lifting her eyes to one particular window in the far wall, she signed, changing her expresión to a sad smile, “well, my loyal Fenris, … we now rest, and wait.”  

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Yggdrasil - Asgard, 8 years ago.

The hunting season had started slightly earlier that year. A particularly cold winter was the reason why many Asgardians from the clan Horn headed to the valley of Issedon venturing in its icy lands several kilometers north from the royal palace. The beast of the valley needed to travel longer distances looking for food as a consequence of the frigid air, and the hunters were obliged to cover a wider territory taking them longer than usual to fill their killing quotas. 

Like a reward from the Norms to those who adventured this earlier, the landscape was exceptionally beautiful. Issedon was surrounded by big mountains, the Aurvang rocks, and an impressive body of frozen water, the Noatun lake, the largest of all Asgard. It was simply breathtaking to observe the rocky landscape and its almost impenetrable forests of Old Oaks and green Pine Trees, filled by deep snow. The beauty of it and its always frozen lake made the Issedon valley indomitable, and mainly inhabited by the most feared creatures in all the nine, making it a heaven for the bravest hunters of the whole universe.

Tales said that the only known refuge in the region was built by hunters from the clan Horn, back in Bor ages. The complex was a three story wood construction that blended perfectly among the pine-trees at the flanks of the main mountain. The cabin had an A shape roof that allowed the excess of snow to slide down, avoiding its potential collapse. Each storey was surrounded by balconies and ceiling-to-floor thick windows overlooking the Valley and its lake. It was a masterpiece, a dream for many hunters, and a safe haven for the two people that occupied the place this unforgivable cold night. 

- “Lars! What is taking you so long!?” a deep male shout was heard from the stables on the left side of the cabin. 

- “Your dam stallion, Luke. Just stubborn as you!”, a short man with wide shoulders, covered in thick fur, replied. “Move, damn creature!” he yelled at the horse, while pulling the saddle ropes as a futile attempt to move the animal an inch forward. The animal was shaking desperately trying to get loose from Lar's grasp.

- “Oh, stop crying Lars. Is a horse too much for you, just like any lady in the nines?” Luke, a man with a bigger frame than his companion, jested. Luke exited the stables and walked through the deep snow, directly to the horse. “Shhhh Drauga… Shhhh” he murmured, extending a hand toward the creature’s head. “Did something scare him?” he asked Lars, with a more serious tone. 

- “I not know… he was fine a few moments ago,” replied Lars.

- “Easy… easy boy. What is wrong, eh?” asked Luke looking at the eyes of the animal and taking the reins in his hands. The horse stopped kicking but was still reluctant to move, exhaling air and vapor throughout its nousedrills, moving his head left and right in distress. Drauga made a final loud whinny sound, and suddenly became very still and quiet, like the rest of the forest.

- “Whatever is making him nervous, already took my nerves too,” said Lars while looking at the skies and to the top of the pine trees. “Let’s get inside Luke…. I don’t like any of this” he said, while walking a few steps backwards. 

The quiet was so short that either Lars or Luke had time to react. Drauga kicked with its front legs while neighing and standing-upright. Shaking its legs and head frantically he broke free from the reins and ran loose into the deep forest. Luke’s call for Drauga was never voiced out, as the air pressure dropped suddenly and strong gusty winds raised from nowhere, flooding the forest with roaring sounds of branches twisting and breaking, leaving an aftermath of frozen snow falling from the broken trees, followed by a sepulchral silence right after. 

In a slow and almost imperceptible move, Luke took out his bow and one arrow from his back, readied it for action. Lars echoed and grabbed his own bow, letting an arrow rest in the string almost in synchrony.

- “What is it, Luke? What is wrong with this place?” Asked Lars, while walking a few more steps backwards, burying his legs deeper into the snow.

Placing the arrow into the central nocking point and tensing the string, Luke lifted the bow pointing it just where his eyes were fixed, on a straight line toward the dark part of the forest. He closed one of his eyes to fix an invisible target, and let the arrow flow forward at an incredible speed. The arrow traveled fast and accurately for a few meters and then, unexpectedly, caught on fire at the end of its trail. 

- “What in the nines,” murmured Luke in a shaky voice. 

At the sudden movement of the tree branches, Luke reacted with two consecutive shoots that were also devoured by the fire. [4] This time, consumed by terror, Luke himself backed a few steps as his trembling hands lifted to shade his eyes from the sudden orange flare. 

- “It is not possible,” Luke said while shaking his head in denial, not realizing he had lowered his bow to the ground, as an indisputable sign of defeat. 

From his peripheral vision he saw a shadow that jumped in front of him. No, not a shadow, he thought, but Lars. Lars, his life friend, who at one moment was next to his left, and at the other he was in front of him, extending both arms as a human shield, looking straight to his eyes with a sad smile, in an expression he could only describe as sorrow. 

Flashing memories flooded Luke as he closed his burning eyes. Memories of his mother smiling at him as a little boy. Of his first kill, a 200 kilograms wild boar that left him a 20 centimeters scar as a reminder to the dangers of the life he chose to live. Memories of his brothers in spirit, the Horns, hunting as a pack deep in this same forest, hundreds of years ago. And memories of his father, burning in a ceremonial pyre, his ashes ascending to Valhalla and leaving Luke alone, too early, too afraid, too young. 

Opening his swelling eyes, the last thing Luke saw was his friend, Lars, smiling at him while being hit by an incoming fireball that caught him up in flames as a too-familiar and painful deja vu. The last thing Luke voiced was the plea “Norms help us,” as he pointed his bow to the skies, letting a special size arrow fly to the stars above just seconds before his own screams of pain filled the valley. 

Many kilometers south from the valley of Issedon, next to the closest pier from the palace, a fisherman loading his vessel interrupted his work at the sight of what appeared to be a shooting star in the distance. Nor far away from there, an Einherjar patrolling the rainbow bridge at earlier hours, raised his hand to his eyes to better observe what appeared to be a linear object crossing the skies upward. A few meters ahead, the omnipresent old guardian of golden eyes, Heimdall, turned away from his usual sight spot to the void, and fixed his eyes on the moving flare, following his uprising path. When the tiny torch was close enough to touch the stars, it blowed up splitting in hundreds of small burning ashes that remained floating in the skies for several seconds before descending at an almost imperceptible slow speed. “A distress signal,” Heimdall murmured with a very deep voice, and quickly started running toward the palace. The nearby Einherjar followed his steps, but instead of entering the palace, he went straight to the barrack hut to alert General Bragi, waking up everyone who was resting on that shift.

Hundreds of small bright splinters slowly fell that night revealing at their center a single fireball, bright as a daylight, that remained suspended in the skies for a very long time … as a beacon for all Asgard to see and wonder about.