My first ever fanfic, please be gentle, but all reviews are appreciated.
DISCLAIMER: I only own the mitsakes.
Long have I wandered this Earth in my search, just as my mother before me and her mother before her. We are all of us unique, and all of us blessed. Of course, I'm the only one to make it to my 23rd birthday without succumbing to the belief that our blessing is, in fact, a curse. All of the women of my family think this Thing we do is a darkness, and yet all of them use it. Crave it. They do not understand what a gift it is.
Years and years ago, when we Northern people were blessed with the physical precense of our gods, He came to us. To my ancestor. Throughout the ages, her name is lost to us, but not her heritage. Everyone born of our line is a woman, and we all have dark auburn hair and jade colored eyes; enough to convince everyone throughout all the ages that we were all witches. Well, maybe we are. What we are for certain, is loyal. Loyal to He who gave us our gift, our power, and our wits. For that, we must be ever faithful to the Trickster. We do not speak His true name to anyone but ourselves, for it is a secret guarded by we few, but colloquially, we call Him Loki, and it is to He that we are ever faithful.
In hundreds of years, I am one of only three women of my line born with control. I suppose I should be grateful for that, as I was certainly not graced with patience. It is a dark secret, and dangerous to me, and to my family, that we can perform magics. This is our gift. The Lord Loki gave us what abilities we could harness in Midgard. They are not many, and they are not free. The magic we are innately born with as Midgardians is all tied into our emotion. Witch magic. Earth magic. Call it what you will, but it is effective. The Trickster however, gave us the gift of a choice. Every woman of my blood can choose complete allegiance to Him, in return for the ability to use Asgardian magics. The magic of gods would be at our fingertips- at a price. You see, that all children born to my family are female is no coincidence, but design. Each girl, at her first bleeding, must seclude herself from her kin for three full nights. At the end of those three nights, she may stand and swear allegiance to the Trickster, or remain barren and weak all her days. A pricey choice. To my knowledge no one has ever chosen the latter.
On that final night, when we each stood and cried out His name, we were endowed with power, but endowed also with a sacred duty. There has been a long standing prophecy gleened from the Norns that our beloved Trickster would bring about the destruction of our world, that he would be bound and punished. As His priestesses, it is our sacred duty to safeguard Him. Too few of us know what that truly means. To hold such power without being truly wise is a course into madness. We all have it, in the end, and it has just taken my mother. My sister and I are all that is left of our line, and my sister has just had her first blood. My heart grieves, for I already know that she will not choose the Lord's work. Nevertheless, our line must perservere. I will take on the responsibility alone if I must. I will fight to stave off my own madness, my own wants and desires. They are trivial things in comparison to the gifts of the Trickster.
I woke gasping, out of breath. Pain, everywhere in my feeble body. I feel like I've been bulldozed. What's happening to me? Gods I can barely move. *Sigh.* I get up anyway. What the Hel was that? Crazy ass dream- felt like flashbacks, except that I rarely have flashbacks, and have never been to the place I was "flashing" to.
-CRASH!-
Broken dishes. Again. "BLAER!" I love my sister to death, but she is possibly the clumsiest person in the history of ever.
"I didn't mean it!"
"Clean it up anyway!" Gah. That's the real curse, family. I hate how bitter I've become lately, but I can't help it. There's just too much weighing on my mind. Responsibilities sitting on my shoulders like lead weights. Take care of my invalid mother, take care of my fragile and weak little sister. Get the food, do the cooking, do the cleaning up. If only I could use my magic for such mundane tasks, but I must control myself. At least Blaer is good at cooking and cleaning.
Since she chose barreness over fealty to Loki, she can do no Asgardian magic, and she has no skill with Midgardian magic either. It is so overwhelming to have three people to care for and the ability to use magic, and to be terrified of that magic. I can't let myself become like my mother, not even fifty and burned out completely. Too much magic draws too much from you, and if you can't give enough back, your mind starts thinning, and the netting holding all yours thoughts together starts to unravel. I can't be like that. I'll find a way to make it all balance. It's a little easier here, out in the middle of nowhere. Maybe a person or two in about ten square miles- and they all avoid us. Foreigners to this place, we have long been suspected. Every bad thing around here is blamed on us, our fault or not. How can I possibly do the Trickster's bidding landlocked like this? How can I leave my sister unprotected with an invalid to care for? The Trickster has been mysteriously quiet for many months, and I worry. My own magic has been growing exponentially, a sure sign that the Trickster's true purpose for us is soon to be fulfilled.
In these past years, I have sat quiet, in peaceful meditation, ready to receive arcane knowledge from the Trickster, and then hone it until I am worthy of His gift. In that time I have stumbled onto a pice of wisdom that I do not believe He intended me to have. Should His power ever be bound, it is my sacred duty, as His priestess, His LAST priestess, to store all of His magic for Him. The bits and pieces He gives to me are to help me hone my control and allegiance. If I ever do need to fulfill my sacred duty, I will need to control and use that magic to restore it to Him. I cannot imagine full access to the Trickster's magic. I also cannot imagine what it would do to my mind. But these last months, there has been nothing. I have prayed, and cried and shouted, but there has been silence. Nothing but these crazy flashbacks and pain. I know in my heart that I need to make my way to Him. I can feel Him here on Midgard, and I am quite sure that He is not here of His choosing. I am so conflicted. I could feel His desent into madness, and I could feel His return to Asgard. But now- now He is back on Midgard, and nearly all His power is bound. The battle of New York tested my loyalty most fiercly, but He was not Himself, and I can continue in His service with a clear conscience. I must continue, as I am the only one. Had my sister chosen to stay in the service of our Lord, we would share the burden, but she did not, and I must shoulder it alone.
Blaer is sweeping the floor when I come into the kitchen. She looks into my face, saddened. "You're leaving, aren't you?"
"It's time." Gods this is hard.
"What about ME! What about MOM! Don't you care about US or is it just Him you care about?" Oh how I wish she could understand how hard this is.
I am filled with anger and hurt, but I slap her anyway. "My duty is the most important thing to me! I am the only one who can do this. You would understand if you hadn't been such a coward." I ignore her hurt face and tears. Heading back to my room, I check in on my mother- still asleep, thankfully. I hate this, but I have a purpose. I was MADE for this. It only takes a few moments and my bag is packed. I was never much of a materialist anyway.
She's there, at the door, when I grab my heavy coat from behind the door. "The cellar is full. If you milk the goats every day and sow the seeds after the thaw you won't want for food. Please remember that I do love you, even if you hate me right now. I can't promise that I'll be coming back, but I know you can do this. " I don't wait for her words. Anything else and I'll be crying and begging her to forgive me for walking out on her, but I have a job. The forest is dark and unforgiving,with a bitter wind and a hateful cold. No matter, I must find him.