A/N: Sometimes editing can be hard. While I stink at finding and fixing types, editing structurally is pretty important. This was not the chapter I intended to post today. I had a little chapter about Sarah's first day in the domain. It was repetitive, slow, and didn't advance the story. So I took a little bit of it and put it into this chapter, and then cut the rest. Which means if my chapter numbering gets screwed up in the future, you'll know why. This chapter seems fluffy, but it sets up the rest of Arc II and sets the stage for Arc III.
Chapter Thirty: To Bed and When the Holy Light Has Come
Taylor sat up from a bed of leaves and pine needles as soft as any mattress. Overhead, brilliant silver moonlight shone down through the branches of hundreds of trees. Most were spruce or pine trees, but mixed in with them, Taylor saw birch, alder, maple and hawthorn. She saw oaks and ash, elder and rowan. Every tree to find its roots in the lands of Midgard found root in the dense forest before her.
Magic flowed through their trunks and branches. The leaves glimmered with power and life; the wind provided the breath for an orchestra of ancient woodwinds, singing a song of creation and vibrancy. She followed the music of it, letting the sound and moonlight guide her way.
Stone and stick bent before her bare feet, ensuring every step was smooth and gentle. Ahead she saw blue light flickering under the silver moonlight. The sky sparkled with uncountable stars in a cloudless night sky.
She heard singing from around the blue fire and continued until she stumbled onto a great amphitheater made not by hewn timbers or carved stone, but by trees woven with magic to form great, living platforms and seats, paths and homes. The magic felt heart-wrenchingly familiar-it was a magic she herself could wield.
In the center of the largest platform she found a bonfire of blue fire that burned brightly without consuming its fuel. Around the bonfire, Taylor's mother danced.
She looked like Taylor at that moment-fourteen if a day. Compared to the great beings around her, she was only a child. The figure she danced with was taller than Taylor's father-a great, beautiful god clad in bear fur on his shoulders and leggings made from the smooth bark of birch trees. He held Freya's hands in both of his and tossed her about to her raucous delight.
Names came to Taylor, as if she had known them her entire life. Kvasir it was who danced with her mother-the wise old Vanir who surrendered himself as a hostage to the Aesir and died for it. There sat her grandfather, Njord. Tall like Kvasir, but with the weathered face of a man who spent his life at sea.
Sitting on a log next to two beautiful little girls sat Freyr, Taylor's uncle. He too was only a youth-Freya's twin. But just as Freya was stunning as a child, Freyr's beauty was like that of Adonis. He too was only a child by the measure of the Vanir.
There was Njord's sister-wife, Nerthus, the personification of a river made divine and in human form. There was Gullveig and Yingvi, Gersemi and Hnoss. Skirnir stood guard behind his young master, Freyr.
This was Vanaheim, Taylor realized. These were her mother's people. Her family.
"Come, child of my daughter. Sit."
Njord of the Sea's voice sounded like waves and wind. He carried the smell of salt and fish about him as he sat on the gently bending trunk of an old oak. Freya continued to dance, now with her twin brother Freyr, while other Vanir sang and danced as well. Their voices did not ring over the windy whistles of the forest, but somehow augmented and accompanied it. To human ears it would scarcely have sounded like singing. To Taylor, it was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard.
Taylor moved as if in a stupor around the ever-burning blue fire until she sat between her grandparents. Nerthus clapped her hands and sang with the rest-blue hair hung over her bare back, while huge, pendulous breasts swayed as she moved to the music.
Taylor knew that Nerthus was the mother of the Vanir-just as Njord was the father. Freya was not his only daughter, nor Freyr his only son. Even now Taylor could see two of Njord's other daughters, Ráðveig and Kreppvör, join in the dancing with Freya and Freyr. The siblings seemed to be intentionally trying to step on Freyr's toes, which meant his dancing took on a desperate, frenetic pace.
"Is this real?" Taylor asked. The Vanir rolled off her tongue as natural as English.
"What is real to the gods?" Njord asked her. "Is not a memory real?"
Memory. Taylor brushed her fingers across her mother's necklace. "The Aesir-Vanir war…"
"Is to be over soon," Njord said. "The dead have been burned; the bride price paid. Tomorrow, my youngest shall give herself to Odin, the Hanged One, Borrsson. Many here will go with her to the halls of Asgard so that there may be peace. I, too, shall go."
Mother's last happy memory of her family. She's my age, and tomorrow Odin will take her in marriage.
"Why am I here?"
"In all things, there is knowledge," Njord said. "If only you have eyes to see, and the mind to understand."
One of Taylor's great uncles threw a pear to one of her aunts. Laughing mischievously, Freya launched into the air, transforming with a flash into an eagle. She snatched the pear out of the air, returned to her human-like form, and took a large, satisfied bite from the fruit.
"That was mine!" her sister Ráðveig cried. Suddenly the younger, beautiful girl covered in Vanir protective runes was gone, replaced by a great, barrel-chested figure with a bristling red beard. "Give me back my treat, woman, before I blast you with my mighty Gugnir!"
All of the Vanic had draped themselves in magic. Seeing how casually they cast illusions on themselves or changed their forms, Taylor now saw everything around her with a different eye.
Nerthus was not human at all-she was a being of water, but within the seidr of Vanic magic she gave herself human form so powerfully she could even deliver human-shaped offspring. Njord too did not look human under the magic, but assumed his current form with powerful glamours that made him not only look, but feel human.
"I don't fear any of your spears, Borrsson," Freya laughed at her sister. "How will you even take me to bed with a cock so small?"
The joke caused all the Vanir to laugh uproariously. None of them saw the two ravens on a tree overhead. Taylor, though, did.
"All hate has a cause," Njord said as he followed her gaze to the ravens. He sounded ancient and sad. "The smallest sleight can fester to a storm of rage. So often it is that we sow the seeds of our own strife."
Freya had resumed a furiously fast, spinning dance with another of her sisters. Taylor stared hungrily at her mother-desperately to retain every second in her memories. "I wish I had lived here, with you."
"Then you would be dead," Njord said. "With us. Seek wisdom in the past, Granddaughter, but truth can be found only in the present, and hope may only be found in the future. For you to have either, you must do as my beloved daughter bid."
He turned to look at her, and all pretense of humanity fled before the ancient, primeval being. "Seek ye Brigid. Or else all will be lost."
~~Theogony~~
~~Theogony~~
Taylor sat up with a gasp. A furry body rolled onto her leg. Silent Wind of Death mewled tiredly at being woken so. "I'm sorry," she whispered to the bobcat. "Strange dream."
She leaned down and nuzzled his fur with her face. He responded with a deep-chested purr. "I've got to get up, guys," she said to the other cats. "I think it's my first day of school."
Her domain stretched out below her in a shining, grassy picture of paradise surrounded by what looked like immense forests, but which in truth were the walls of her domain. She remembered flying up to the top of her private little mountain and watching the galaxy spin by. The music of the stars must have lulled her to sleep.
Waking up now, though, she felt refreshed and awake, as if she'd had the best night's sleep ever. With her bobcats curling around her, she was neither cold nor warm. It was perfect.
Against her wings, she felt a trillion-trillion light kisses from the spirits of the dawn. She turned to face the rising sun and smiled as its legions fought back the darkness. Just like she did at the Water's home, she lifted her arms and spread her wings to great the orb as it crested the horizon.
"Welcome, brother," she said as she rose up and led the sun's full spirit shine against her. Just like before, the spirits within the sun's first light washed over her, waking her in a way no stimulant or drink could ever do.
Refreshed and alert, Taylor hopped off the edge of her private mountain to bathe. Even if her house now had running water again, why bother showing inside when she had a waterfall and a spring? She dropped down lightly, asked the spirits to obscure anyone's sight of her, and stripped before stepping into the water. The cold purity of it enlivened her after the warm blessing of the sun; the loving spirits within flowed over her body, removing any worldly debris that dared cling to her. She had need of neither soap nor shampoo. The water was enough.
When she was done, she found Sarah Livsey on the edge of the pool with a tailored fluffy bathrobe in one hand, and a cup of coffee in the other. One was for Taylor, one wasn't. "You know, that trick you do with the air makes you look like a Disney princess. All the precious bits obscured by light."
Just like the night before, Taylor heard a note of hysteria when Sarah spoke. The girl's eyes glistened as if she were on the verge of tears, even as she tried her best to sound jovial. She handed over the specially tailored robe.
Taylor wasn't quite sure how to take that, though all she sensed from the other girl was humor. She accepted the robe, which wrapped cleverly around her in such a way as to leave her wings free while wicking up any water that remained. "Thank you. How'd you sleep?"
"Like a log." The girl hesitated, then a giggle escaped. "Did you know when you sleep you make auroras in the sky?"
"I…no, didn't know that. Did they bother you?"
Sarah shook her head so fast she slopped some coffee over the lip of the cup. "No! It was…it was nice. Like a night light and a hug all that the same time. Anyway, first day of school and what not. I…well, we don't have any food in the house. Might go grocery shopping later."
Taylor felt surprised to find that for once she wasn't very hungry. "I may get something at school. What are you going to be doing today?"
They spoke as they walked back to the house. Taylor did have clothes from their weekend shopping trip. The house still felt foreign to Taylor without the scent of her mother there. But then again, she slept so well on her little eyrie that she wasn't sure she wanted to come back inside other than to change.
"About that…" Sarah seemed hesitant. "So, how serious were you about my being your priestess?"
The question brought Taylor to a halt at the foot of the stairs. She turned and studied her young companion. The terrible break in her soul that all natural parahumans had looked smaller today…it seemed to be healing. What dominated Sarah Livsey's soul now seemed to be a heady mixture of excitement and trepidation.
"Very. Why?"
"I'm…I know your friends from the DWA know about you. They'll be a few others. I mean…you're a god. A real, living god. You are a walking miracle. It just seems that if you're going to have followers, and a priesthood…shouldn't you have a church?"
The question resonated. "How does one go about getting a church?"
"I have no idea!" She grinned at Taylor, excited by the challenge. "It'll be fun to find out, though. We have money. I know some of Coil's accounts, I could steal more before the PRT or Protectorate even find it. We could hire a lawyer and form a church. The Church of Telos. I mean…if nothing else, it could give me something to do."
She downplayed it, but though she was very good at controlling tone and expression, Sarah's soul yearned to do so. It wasn't just the challenge of it; she yearned to prove herself.
"Okay, let's look into it," Taylor said. "I need to get going, but…yeah. Let's look into it."
"Great! No, go get dressed, young lady! Don't want to be late for your first day of school!"
With a laugh, Taylor made her way up the stairs to her old bedroom where she kept her clothes. Though she was loathe to admit it, Armsmaster and Dragon's program proved correct. She found some less ornate bridal corsets that didn't make her feel like an extra in an old Western saloon and over it wore jeans and a heavy, forest-green woolen blouse with an open back.
Though she'd come to hate shoes, she chose to wear closed-toe sandals that laced up around her ankles, similar to what her father or mother might have worn centuries ago. It was just enough to meet the school's dress code, but still left her skin mostly open to the air.
She studied herself in the mirror, trying to find any trace of the girl who, over a year ago, prepared for her first day of high school. "I am a goddess," she whispered.
When she came down, she saw Sarah on her laptop. "So, I forgot to mention that your dad was on the news last night."
Taylor stopped mid step; not just movement, but thought and worry as well. "Is he okay?"
Sarah snorted. "He's become the general for half of Africa. He's doing okay. The North African nations have banded together in a Saharan League, and the provisional government named him as their general. They call him Shabh alsahra. He's pushing back the warlords of Moord Nag and helping the survivors organize. Tunisia, Algeria, Libya and Morocco have joined together. Refugees are actually leaving Europe and returning to their homes for the first time in years."
Taylor sat, smiling at the idea of her father doing good. "After so long living in peace, to have a just war is perfect for him."
"Better get moving, then," Sarah said.
Despite all the empty houses, there were still people in the neighborhood. On a far street corner, two blocks up, she saw a group of Middle School students waiting for the bus. One of the students turned and saw her, gaping. The girl didn't alert the other kids, she just stood and stared with her phone in her hand and earbuds in her ears. Because of the cool weather, she wore a sweater with a hoodie, but her face revealed her shocked expression. Taylor waved once before she reared back her wings and launched into the air.
In less than a minute she found herself looping Arcadia High School, watching as the kids arrived and moved through the halls, talking and laughing or moaning about the week.
Taylor wasn't sure what to expect for the day. She knew that the PRT worked tirelessly to get her registered, but she'd had almost no communication with anyone in the school other than a brief email giving her a start date of Monday.
With a bend of her wings she dipped and began to drop. She flared her wings at the last moment to slow her descent until she landed right in front of the glass and steel wall that greeted students and visitors. Most students were arriving from the rear entrance facing the parking and bus lots.
There were still dozens of students who saw her arrive, though, and she could feel their stares and their regard like sunlight on her skin. She pulled her wings tight to her back and stepped through the doors of the school.
She found herself in an enclosed entry space facing teller-like windows and a far door admitting people into the main school with a tinker-tech metal detector around it. Behind the teller-style windows, several women stared at her wide-eyed.
A dozen or so other kids and a few parents waited to turn in absentee reports or whatever it was students did and parents did. She wasn't sure herself. She was sure, though, that the whole room fell absolutely quiet when she stepped through the door. She walked to the nearest window and stood behind a suddenly nervous looking boy half a head shorter than herself.
The boy, in nice slacks and a long-sleeved white button-up shirt, turned to face her with flaring cheeks. "Hmmm, hi!" he blurted. He then ducked his head and ran out of the office before Taylor could say anything else. Shrugging, she stepped forward to the startled-looking student aid behind the window.
"Taylor Hebert, it's my first day?"
"Um, yeah, I'll let…oh, right." The girl seemed to come to her senses. "Yeah, the counselor has your info. I let her know you're here."
A long minute later, in which conversations resumed in muted tones, the door to the back opened and a harried looking woman stepped out, only to blink and freeze for a moment.
"Oh," she said, startled. "Well, I'm Ariana Gutierrez. Come on back, we're still trying to iron out your schedule."
Taylor didn't actually get her schedule ironed out until well into second period because of the unique challenges presented by being a cape and missing a year of school. Still, bit by bit, they built up her schedule, mixing freshmen, sophomore and even a few upper division classes to fill out her schedule. It was refreshing to actually get input on her classes.
With a school map in hand and all of her books stashed Between, Taylor made her way to her first class of the day, Freshmen chemistry. Unfortunately, it was on the far side of the school from the front office and Taylor didn't want to risk using her power to move quickly through the halls. With phones and conversations following her every bare step, it took her a while before she finally reached the chemistry class. The teacher within was a tall, sallow man with wispy hair, no chin and thick glasses.
"Taylor Hebert, I take it?" His voice sounded as reedy as his hair looked.
"That's correct."
"I don't have assigned seating, so pick a desk and we'll get started. After class, see me about make-up work."
"Okay."
And that was it. No recriminations or forced introductions. She took a seat, conscious of the stares, and the teacher began to teach. Thus, her long-delayed freshman year of high school began.
~~Theogony~~
~~Theogony~~
"Could I join you?"
Taylor looked up from the salad she was picking at and stared at the handsome young man who stood at her table. He wore tan Dockers and a long-sleeved Polo with a knit argyle sweater over it that made his dark hair look almost black. And he had a dead parahuman power coiled loosely about his soul.
"Should I pretend I don't know you?"
Dean paused only a moment before sitting down. "Yeah, probably. Dean Stansfield, a pleasure to meet you."
She accepted his handshake. "A pleasure. You're the first student to introduce yourself to me."
Dean laughed and took a seat. He eschewed the normal cafeteria line and instead went to the more expensive Angie's Pizza kiosk for one of her famous calzones. The calzone would have bought Taylor's sizable lunch two days in a row.
"That's not what I've heard. Word in the hall is that a Freshman hit on you," Dean said casually.
"What…?"
"Miguel Salazar. He told everyone he asked the winged girl out."
"Some kid said hi to me and ran away," Taylor said. "That's it. You're actually the first person to speak to me other than a teacher so far."
He regarded her a moment as he took a bite of his lunch. "Do you blame them?"
With a sigh, Taylor picked at her salad. "No. I was really looking forward to coming here, originally. Before all this happened to me. Now, it just seems like a waste of time."
"School is pretty important, though. How else are you going to learn?"
What amazed Taylor was that he was absolutely earnest in that statement. She pulled her history textbook from the Between and placed it on the table. "I memorized the book in class this morning. Took about twenty minutes while the teacher was lecturing. I didn't even realize I was doing it. So, what will I do for the rest of the year?"
Looking somewhat skeptical, he opened the book up. "Page 363…."
"Section quiz over the New Deal. First question is 'What event in 1929 led to a major economic crises?'"
He closed the book. "Pretty impressive. You have a thing for history, I take it?"
She took the book back, and replaced it with her chemistry and algebra II book.
"Really?"
"I'm bored." She gave up on her salad and instead pulled an apple from the garden out of the Between. A brief chant had it glowing with a golden light before she took a bite.
Dean stared for a long moment before forcing himself back to his meal. Around them, other students sat clumped together, talking over each of the surrounding tables to create a loud din. As she looked about, she felt eyes focused on her.
"There's someone behind me, to...your left," Taylor said. "They're looking at me so hard I can feel it."
Dean glanced past her wing, then quickly back down to his calzone. "Wow. Whoever it is really, really hates you."
She knew from Miss Militia that he had an ability to see emotional states, so she took his statement at face value. "ABB?"
He scoffed. "She looks like she could join the junior Swedish Bikini Team. No, pretty sure that's one of the Herren girls. There's like a dozen in the school across all grades. Cousins or siblings. Can't remember if that's Marie or Trudy. There've been rumors for years that the Herrens have ties to the Empire 88. There was even a big deal in Boston last year-a cape from the Black Zion Revolutionary Army attacked a Herren family reunion or something, killed four of five people before they gunned him down."
He shook his head and finished his calzone. "Whatever her beef with you is, it's personal to her. Speaking of beef...Glory Girl wants to meet you."
"What does beef have...you mean Victoria Dallon?"
"Vicky, yeah."
"Then why didn't she come say hi?"
"She said the last time she got too close you blew her through a wall or something."
Taylor felt her cheeks grow hot. "Oh. Oh! Yeah, forgot about that. Um...I was really, really sick when she tried to help. I'm better now, so it shouldn't happen again. She just needs to keep her aura under control."
Before she even finished, Dean removed his cell phone and began texting. His thumbs moved unnaturally fast.
"What? You mean now?"
"Better to rip the band-aid off quick," Dean said. "Look, you're both unmasked Alexandria-style capes. Every student in the school has been walking around on egg-shells to see if you two hate each other or not. So, this way hopefully everyone will just calm down."
A newcomer plopped down at the table next to Dean seconds after he finished thumbing his message. She wore designer jeans from a boutique on the Boardwalk and a pink, fuzzy sweater accentuated by a string of pearls around her neck. Her blonde hair hung at shoulder-length, artfully curled at the ends, to frame an oval face with a petite nose and mouth, and eyes made even more expressive with the skilled addition of eyeliner.
"Hi!" she said brightly, pushing as much sincerity into her smile as she possibly could. At the same time, her power reached out like a thousand coiled snakes to try and force Taylor to like her. To love her.
"Vicky, aura!" Dean hissed.
Taylor closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Some of the conversation around the gym seemed to mute, and it wasn't until she stifled the urge to destroy the creature that dared try to influence her emotions that Taylor realized she'd instinctively flared her wings and turned them to diamond.
It took almost physical effort to calm herself. She brought her wings tightly to her back, and only then opened her eyes to see Victoria Dallon staring back at her with a stricken expression, and Dean holding her arm desperately.
"It's okay," Taylor said. "I'm fine. We're okay."
"What was that?" Vicky sounded upset-bordering between angry and afraid. "I just fucking said hi!"
"Vicky," Dean started.
Taylor, though, shook her head. "Your master power triggers me," she said with brutal honesty. "Your aura tries to affect my emotional state. My instinct is to destroy the threat. I know you don't mean it. As long as you don't sneak up on me with your aura, we should be fine."
Dean wrapped an arm around Vicky's shoulders. She barely seemed to notice. "So that shit last year...was, what?"
"You accidently triggered my protections," Taylor admitted. "I was so sick; I don't even remember it. Not really."
"Your dad tanked my strongest punch," Vicki said flatly.
"You shouldn't have attacked him," Dean pointed out. "As I recall you got two weeks detention for that. And your mom grounded you."
"Not the point," Vicky said. Now that the worst of the reaction had passed, she seemed to be pulling her aura back as best she could. It hovered about her head like the serpents of Medusa, but as long as they remained around her, Taylor had no issue with it. "The point is, that punch could have gone straight through steel. He caught it one-handed. If he's that strong, why hasn't he stepped up and helped clean up the city? Where is he?"
"Last I heard he's united all the nations of the Sahara and is leading their army against Moord Nag."
"That's your dad?" Dean asked.
Vicky, who looked like she was about to dismiss it as a joke, abruptly swallowed her pending laughter and stared at Dean. "Wait, what? She's for real? That's her dad?"
Before the conversation could go much further, another person stepped to the table. "So, no one's dead and the school's intact. Is it safe to sit?"
The newcomer was the polar opposite of Vicky Dallon. Mousy, curly brown hair and eyes, with freckles lining an oval face and pale skin that held the potential for a nice bronzed tan if it ever saw sunlight. She sat on Vicky's side opposite Dean. "So, wings. I'd love to see how those worked, but the last time I touched you I got burned. Amy Dallon, by the way."
"Burned?" Taylor frowned. "You were hurt touching me?" Then it dawned on her. "Oh, right. My protections guard against any foreign influence. Emotional or...well, forced healing."
"That's some secondary power," Vicki said. "PRT said you were a Trump. What's your actual power?" Her aura was starting to spread again, inching toward Taylor like a nest of needy, writhing snakes.
"You can see her aura, can't you?" Dean realized.
Taylor nodded. "Yes. And she can't really control it, can she?"
"I'm sitting right here," Vicky whined, becoming genuinely upset.
"Vicky?" Taylor said softly, forcing the other girl to quiet down in order to hear. "I can see you're a good person. This isn't your fault, okay? It's...it's a bad power interaction. You can't help it. But I think it'd be better if you keep a distance, just to be safe."
The girl looked as if she were about to cry. "But you're just like me!" she said. "You get it. We're unmasked. We're Alexandria packages! We have so much in common, we just have to be friends!"
The aura had reached out again, pushing against Taylor like a spiritually slimy tongue. Despite her best efforts not to, she felt her wings begin to flare again. "We are a lot alike," she said, struggling to keep her voice even. "Maybe too alike. You ever try to push the positive ends of magnets together?"
"Come on, Vicky," Dean said. "I'll get you an ice cream."
For a moment she sat there, trembling with Taylor's rejection, before standing quickly. "Fine. Cherry Garcia, and I'm not sharing!"
The two walked away, leaving Taylor alone with Amy Dallon. It took a deep breath to center herself. "I'm sorry," she told the other girl. "She seemed really nice."
"She is," Amy said. "She wants to love everyone, and she wants everyone to love her. And as smart as she is, she doesn't get it when that doesn't work out." She was eating a cafeteria lunch-a patty of processed beef-food product with a slice of American cheese food product on a bun of highly industrialized gluten, a pile of over-done crinkle fries, and a bottle of cold sugary espresso. She dipped her fries in a pile of mayonnaise that must have accumulated during the discussion with Vicky, judging by the pile of emptied packets. She dipped each fry in the mayonnaise between eating her burger.
"So, what are you?" Amy asked casually. She pitched her voice low and deep-tones that would not carry.
"What do you mean?"
Amy snorted. "I know all the Wards. I've healed four of them, and they've been talking all weekend about you. I know you're like a fucking Eidolon when it comes to powers. A 6-71 designation? I haven't even gotten that yet, though I'm on a nominee list. Thing is, I touched you in the hospital, back in September. You're not a parahuman." She soaked a few fries in the mayonnaise, then piled them on the remaining half of her burger before taking a large bite.
Taylor considered the other girl. She had a miasma of unhappiness about her that seemed to go beyond teen angst. Seeing the truth of her, Taylor saw a soul stretched beyond its capacity, and a power to make whole nations weep.
"I'm a divine being," Taylor said. "My physical powers are a manifestation of my godhood, but I have spiritual powers as well."
"So, what? You popped into your mother's womb through immaculate conception?"
Remembering her visions of her parents, Taylor's cheeks flared. "No, definitely not. My parents were gods, too."
Amy thought about that answer as she ate. "So, you come from a long line of gods. Sounds like a type of parahuman."
Taylor shook her head. "Not like you're thinking. My Dad was born in Sparta over twenty-six hundred years ago. My grandfather is literally Zeus on my dad's side. Mother was born in Vanaheim, a godly domain of Norway, at least three thousand years ago. She might actually be older than dad, but they didn't have things like the Olympics and good mortal written history to know for sure. My grandfather on her side was Njord, a god of the sea. I am sister to Baldur. Sister to Loki through Dad's second wife, Lauffey. I guess I do come from a line of gods, but my parents were thousands of years old when they brought me into the world."
Rather than scoff or laugh, Amy frowned intently. "Who the fuck is Njord?"
"The Norse Poseidon," Taylor said. "Without the horses and earthquakes. He was Freya and Freyr's father. You know Freya? The goddess Friday's named for?"
Amy finished her cholesterol-inducing lunch, wiped her hands on a napkin, and then removed her phone.
"Normal phones don't work in school," she said absently. "But the PRT and Protectorate need to make sure I hear from them, so I have access to the school's wifi. You do too, or you should. Okay, Njord. Hmmm...says he was married to some chick named Skadi."
"Skadi was a Jotunn," Taylor said. The knowledge came easily to her. "The marriage didn't last. Dad's second wife, Lauffey, was a Jotunn too."
"Jotunn?"
"People call them Frost Giants, but they were just another tribe of gods."
"Ewww, this guy Njord married his sister?"
Taylor shook her head. "In my visions, she was the personification of a great river. He was a living embodiment of the sea. Things like brother/sister don't matter when your human forms are magical constructs to begin with."
"Hmm, interesting." She turned her phone off. "Well, thanks for the talk. See you later."
And with that, Amy Dallon stood and left Taylor. Only then did Taylor realize the other students were leaving as well.
Lunch was over.