Worship of the Gods
Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius – and a lot of courage to move in the opposite direction.
Ernst F. Schumacher
Chapter Fourteen: Guna and Karman
Ellie lay on her back on the roof of the barracks she had been staying in for just over a week. She had terrible posture; with one arm behind her head and a leg hooked over the other as she stared up at the sky. Dawn was approaching, and the azure sky was streaked with cerulean. Ellie wandered whether Tamra was awake, meditating in one of the high towers with an incense burner turning it into a hippie-haven. She could picture her waiting for the sun to rise. She would be snapping about her terrible form; the slouching and laziness would just not do.
Ellie wanted to be lazy. She wanted to slouch against the rough wooden roof, consuming the stench of horse, listening to the distant chatter of Asgard. The ache in her thighs and biceps was slightly nauseating and difficult to ignore once she'd gone to bed last night. God, a cigarette would've been really fucking good.
As the thought crossed her mind, a stroke of rust ran up the sky above her. She rose onto her elbows, grimacing slightly as she pushed herself to sit up properly. One of Asgard's suns poked it golden kiss on the horizon. Was it Arcas or Sugreeva? Ellie begged the question and decided it was Sugreeva rising first as, after-all, he held the name of a sun God.
Ellie imagined God ravelling Sugreeva like a ball of string; a light-infused fabric turning over and over until a sphere so bright and beautiful was ready to join the other stars. He held Sugreeva like he was made of glass and pressed him into the sky like a marble into moulding clay.
Am I like Sugreeva? Pressed into the world like a flower to a book?
Learning underneath Loki's scrutinising gaze was necessary to developing magic which wasn't too emotional, or overpowering. He was the son of the Queen, one of the most powerful Aesir in existence so he knew the strategies which worked and what didn't. So far, nothing seemed to work.
Ellie tilted her head and extended an arm out. A piece of moss grew on the roof. She attempted to compel her brain to believe it was rise. God's guiding hand would, surely. move the moss just like Sugreeva.
After several moments of holding her breath and going red in the face, Ellie exhaled dramatically and let her arm drop down. "Heavenly Father," she hushed, "help me be like these beings? Let me use your power to do magic. Please?"
The darkness must've been the only thing to hear her broken voice. Her vocals echoed like crushed notes and there were few noises to hide it. Except for the dozing horses and approach of Helga, the head-cook.
She was a ferocious woman who was always wearing an apron stained with red sauce. It was her plumpness that gave her a maternal look and Ellie had, had the gracious opportunity of speaking to her twice about where the food was farmed. The head-cook was more than happy to oblige; she was from the northern mountains of Asgard, just like Tyr.
Ellie pushed herself up, hiding in the shadows, yet able to watch Helga hobble through the courtyard. She was lugging a ginormous cart of vegetables. Asgardian vegetables. There were bright purple round ones and pointy green things, as well as a black frilly one which resembled an overgrown cabbage. Ellie hoped it was stew for dinner that day. Oh, how delicious and hot it would be slipping down her throat after a day of training.
Combat training had been going well, Ellie thought. Tyr never allowed opponents to take it too far, but the odd bruise always came up purple and pulsing with pain. Still, it was nothing a cooling rune couldn't fix.
Four Days Later
Asgardian Training Quarters
Ellie slid beneath Gustav, sweeping a blow to the back of his leg which crunched and sent him lurching. He caught his footing clumsily and turned to catch Ellie's foot with a grunt. They stared at one another for a heavy moment and then Gustav shoved her leg backwards. It painfully pushed into her hip, twisting her spine uncomfortably.
He grabbed her ankle, yanking it forwards so she jolted again. She cried out.
"Enough!" Tyr had a voice as rough as half-forged blade. "Stop pissing about with feet, Gustav. Get up and get back with the rest."
Ellie's posture was stiff as she wobbled to her feet. She felt as if her innards had been thrown about. Somewhere close-by, a voice was angrily whispering. It was Lounn. She made her way towards him, one hand on her abdomen.
Ellie was famished. She'd missed dinner last night, having been with Loki until the moon came up. Their progress was futile and knew it was because she didn't believe she could make anything float like a flying saucer or one of those Apollo rockets they sent to the moon a few years ago. Seeing that on the box-television beside highly religious nuns was mayhem. Many believed God existed as an omniscient being just above the Earth.
It made her think of him as a puppeteer, using his great hands to push people around the world. If he swirled his forefinger fast enough, a tornado would appear. A grin crept up Ellie's face.
"What, in Valhalla, are you smiling about?" Lounn whispered. "You've just about had your back snapped in half and I might as well shove my head in a snake pit."
Beside Ellie, Lounn wiped the sweat from his forehead. When he lifted his armpit, she thought it was a good thing none of them were wearing linens. "This is ridiculous," he carried on, pulling his ear nervously. "I'd rather fight a brunnmigi. It's ridiculous we have to fight one another. We should be a band of warriors… not this petty… fucking…"
"It's quite petty, yes." Ellie murmured, feeling woozy. Brunnmigi were fox-like creatures who dwelled inside of wells. They were dark orange, like the sun bleeding into dusk. With long spikes sticking out of their back and claws which clacked against solid ground, they were hardly the most beautiful things to look at.
"I wouldn't say that too loud," Ellie shot him a look. "Ajun is still annoyed with you after you threw that shield."
"Should've done it harder, then he'd be dead, and I'd have been hung, drawn and quatered and not have to deal with this. He's watching me. Look."
"Oh, no he's not," Ellie snapped. Ajun was in a deep conversation with Vidar, a baker's son with excellent throwing abilities. They'd discovered that after he slipped in the feast-hall and thrown a goblet at the boar head hung on the wall. Lounn looked down at Ellie, his eyebrows knitted together. "If you're not with me, then I'll get beaten the shit out of all alone."
Snapping his eyes back to the training field, Lounn sighed, "votes of confidence are a strange gift to receive. I'm so used to demoralising rants from my father and mother. What a strange feeling it is to be…"
"Liked?"
"You like me?" he repeated. "I am truly flattered."
There was a loud bang. Ellie snapped her gaze to Tyr, who had thrown at axe at one of the human-shaped dummies in the middle of the arena. His thick eyebrows were creased with anger. Everyone went quiet, knowing Tyr meant the next axe would go between someone's eyeballs or in the back of some chattering fool's head.
Tyr stomped forwards. "Let's see what you've got." He pointed at Lounn and Ajun and dread filled Ellie.
"Odin does not shine down on me today," Lounn murmured, slightly green.
Ellie watched her friend walk forwards slowly. Ajun was rubbing his hands together. The near week without rich hair oils or products had made his hair an unruly mess. He was unkept and shattered, as most of them were. "Oh, you think it's going to be that easy?" he asked, despite his tiredness, "go on. Try to hit me, heansa. Hit me like you did with that shield."
Lounn gulped. "Gods, I am sorry, Ajun…"
"Blah, fucking blah," Tyr bellowed. "We're training not on a fucking picnic."
Putting his hands up, Ajun's face flashed with determination. His ability to flicker emotions across his face was a gift Ellie wanted. He was able to emit a menacing vibe with just a glance. Ellie prayed for Lounn to win. She knew that wishing for violence was an inch short of a sin, but her world was different now.
She predicted Lounn had the ability to win with his sheer size. He was quickly building muscle. Perhaps now there were no overbearing parents, he was able to eat as much as he wanted and take out his emotions in a healthier, if not aggressive, way.
The man could knock a mountain out cold.
Ellie held her breath as the two Asgardians edged closer. Lounn tried to punch him, swinging aimlessly so Ajun could duck. Sweat shone on the back o this neck as he dodged another punch, slipping past Lounn like a fish around a riverbend. He kicked Lounn in the back and he stumbled forwards with a grunt.
Lounn caught Ellie's eye. He was bright red with embarrassment. She gave him a small nod, pressing a hand to her chest.Heavenly Father give him strength.
Lounn straightened and rose in new fury.
At the orphanage, the Revered Mother told the girls about a bear which lived in the woods around the building. It was a monstrous creature which stormed the trees, looking to gobble up any little girls who dared run away. Ellie used to have nightmares about running through the trees with a bear chasing her, before it tore her to shreds.
That nightmare was what Ellie remembered, a bear on its hind legs, paws outstretched with a roar coming from its bloody mouth. Lounn looked as fierce.
He charged at Ajun, grabbed his arm and swung a fist at his jaw. Ellie watched the bone get shoved out of place and the light fade from Ajun's eyes. His eyes looked like a pair of lychee berries, sickly white and pale as they rolled back into his head and took his body with him.
Lounn watched him crumple to the floor, his face disturbed and chuffed at the same time. He realised what he had done and that he had won this small presentation. Tyr cackled menacingly, clapping his hands loudly.
"Son of a weapon's master!" he boomed. "Shouldn't have started you off so harshly Ajun."
Tyr had never allowed them to push it that far. Now, Lounn stood full of upset and confusion. The area fell silent as cold filled Ellie's chest. Her prayer should've spread like heavenly warmth, but instead she felt dreadful; believing she played a part in Ajun's horrendous beating. Lounn's wide eyes became wider as he crouched and tapped Ajun's cheeks with one hand. For a few seconds the warrior didn't move, then he blinked, clearly dazed.
They spoke in Old Norse as a sign of respect. By using the language, they believed the Gods in Valhalla could hear them.
"Fyrirgef mik." Lounn apologised quietly. (I'm sorry.)
"All...t er gott," is what Ajun tried to say but with his broken jaw, he struggled to string the words together. (It is okay.)
"Alright, enough babying. Real combat is bloodthirsty and cruel. Gustav and Eurelia, you were lucky I finished it when I did. Just couldn't stand you getting all touchy with the feet," Týr hissed. He stared with greedy eyes at Ajun's fallen body, like the sight is a meal and he hasn't eaten in weeks. The curl of his lip was cruel.
"Next up—Malai and Naeva!" shouted Týr. Lounn pulled Ajun's arm across his shoulders and dragged him past Ellie. She shared a sympathetic smile with him, wanting to apologise for praying.
The crack of Naeva's knuckles took her attention away from the two men. She tucked her short black bob behind her ear, using a silver clip to control her jagged haircut. She was a kind-hearted woman from a lord's family. She had been engaged to be married but chose to join the ranks of Asgardian warriors. If her beloved truly loved her, then he could love her from the sitting area of the arena. Naeva wasn't weak, but she's much narrower than Malai. Hopefully, slender height would make the difference when dodging a swing.
Ellie wanted to wish her luck but didn't know what good it would do. It was difficult to let go of human ideas, of hope, and emotional strength. A part of her wanted to hold onto her mundane side to try and reach half the strength an Asgardian had.
She cracked another knuckle, looking slightly nervous as Malai tilted her head left and right. Ellie couldn't blame her for being nervous after seeing Ajun collapse like a rag-doll. Lounn spoke so softly that it shook Ellie. However, a part of her wanted the victory Lounn had. She wanted to stare over Gustav with sweat pouring down her back and wildness in her eyes.
Malai appeared to growl through gritted teeth. A lock of green hair fell across her face, but she didn't brush it away. Vidar clicked his tongue next to Ellie, but she was too focused to tell him to stop or shoot him an annoyed look.
With a smirk, Malai dived towards Naeva with her hands outstretched at her midsection. She catapults into her like a jungle cat, knocking her back and pinning her to the ground. Naeva thrashed under the heavy weight of her opponent but Malai was too much for the Lord's daughter.
Malai punched Naeva's nose, again, and again. She hit her mouth and right eyeball and then her forehead. Without much thought, Ellie wrenched her sleeve up and took ahold of her apostle. She prayed for God to reach down and fill Naeva with strength; for the strength to punch back and hurt Malai.
Yet, nothing responds. Naeva screeched. Dragging an arm free from Malai's grip, she'd whacked Malai in the ear, knocking her sideways with a high-pitched grunt. When she struggled to her feet, she held her face with one hand as if her very eyeball would fall out of her skull. Blood oozed between her fingers, slipping from her nostrils like streams of thick mucus.
"Yield!" Naeva cried. "Fucking yield."
Tyr orders her to go and wash up, calling her a disgraceful mess. Malai struts back into the crowd and another two unlucky victims are called up. Ellie rubbed her thigh, feeling the knots in her muscles. She meets Gustav's gaze and can't help but absorb the bubbling anger he expels.
That night, Ellie slipped from the training quarters some time after dusk. In the dim streetlights, her figure dashed up to the palace. She kept her face hidden beneath the cotton hood of a brown cloak, not wanting to be followed. As far as her companions were aware, she was the daughter of some rich lord who thought of her as a waste of space and honour.
A note from the Queen-Mother had been left on her pillow and inside was a royal rune only Frigga could make. It had been carved with magic. Ellie clutched it in her hand, presenting it to the guards who allowed her to enter the palace through the gardens. She swept her fingers along the soft petals, berries and plants which made a path up to a small hall. Inside, Frigga waited for her with a table adorned with fruits and puddings.
Ellie chewed on a bite of lemon tart. "I'm glad he and his people reached their homeland safely," she said, motioning to Lord Freyr. "I know many soldiers went with them and the universe must have been blessing them with safe passage."
"I have no doubt they were followed. News of the Alkar stone is travelling which evokes fear." Frigga poured a warm cup of herbal tea, swirling a drop of Aesir essence in. "And you look very well, Eurelia."
"Thank you, my Queen." Knowing that she was building muscle and attending eight hours of training and three hours of Loki's sessions; it must've been doing some good. Physically good, not so much mentally. Ellie was exhausted.
"Give me your hand." Frigga held out an aged palm and freshly done nails. Ellie reached across, sliding her palm across the Queen-Mother. A breath of content left her freshly parted lips. Touch; actual, gentle skin on skin contact. Her weary gaze met Frigga's.
The Queen squeezed slightly, and warmth spread up Ellie's arm. It exploded in her chest like a firework of cooling embers. Ellie repositioned herself in her seat. "I can't do this," she admitted with a heavy expression. "This magic. I can't do it."
"Yes, you can. My son speaks highly of you," Frigga said. Ellie gave a raw snort.
"Please," she said. "He can't stand me. And he knows I don't believe that I can make a candle or a stick or a book fall, let alone fly."
"You can't do it because you don't believe you can do it. What do you think when you imagine the object moving?"
"I think of it falling because of gravity. It falls and hits the floor; louder and louder everytime. I pray to God it'll fly but it doesn't. I pray every time and nothing."
"It's not your God that moves the object, though. It is yourself."
"But he is me. He controls everything I am. He has the power to do this, not me."
Ellie looked down at the table, her eyes filling with tears. Gustav had embarrassed her this morning and now she was embarrassing herself in front of the one woman she never wanted to let down again.
Frigga raised a hand which in turn, compelled an empty goblet to lift into the air. "When I picture the object, I picture myself with each piece of matter. It isn't me, a God and matter. Just myself alone."
There is a moment of contemplation. Ellie had a feeling Frigga knew about her prayers on the roof of her living quarters. If she did, she didn't let it slip.
"I read up on Midgardian philosophy," Frigga suddenly said. "After I knew it meant quite a big deal to you, I did some research and found that there's is a theory named Guna and Karman. It's the theory that the quality of motion is based on its surroundings."
Feeling as if she'd been prodded with a hot poker, Ellie flinched. "Why did you do that?" she asked, flooding her voice accusation. Was the Queen mocking her?
Frigga tilted her head slightly. "You really believe I take no notice of you? Your world has been rebuilt and you believe you are all alone. You're not and this philosophical theory is yours to mould. You are the surroundings of these objects.
If you don't take care of your ability or harness correctly, then the control just won't... well, there won't be any at all."
"So..." Ellie swallowed. "I have to disregard my belief that God controls all things, all motion and movement and put myself in his place? Do you know how hard that is?"
"No, no. No," Frigga said. "He means very much to you. He gives you power, but you need to find power which he didn't give you; power you gave yourself."
Squeezing her eyes together, Ellie tried to imagine herself picking apart atoms and molecules. Frigga's words faded, becoming a distant blur. Perhaps it was time. Time to consider the option that she did not exist because of God, but in spite of him; as a separate entity which co-existed.
"Open your eyes," Frigga said. "Don't get yourself upset now. Look at all of these beautiful cakes I had made for us."
Ellie smiled and rubbed the salty water out of her eye. "I apologise, my Queen. Been a long day."
"I know."
"What? You been stalking me?" she tried to joke put it came out rather like she was embarrassed to be seen as a failure.
Frigga's face transformed, almost mischievously. "Stalking is definitely not a royal act. However, I have been keeping a watchful eye on you. My word, isn't that Gustav a rude fellow?"
Ellie snorted again, nearly choking on her pastry. She held a hand to her mouth, lapsing into giggles with the Queen she had saved many moons ago.
References
- Guna (quality) and karman (action/motion) (Routledge Encyclopaedia of Philosophy, pp.122). Essentially, it is a theory that individual realities exist in ranges of qualities depending on their surroundings.