A/N: Any words you don't recognize are Old Norse. This story kind of got out of control last night and now it's a crossover, which you may've noticed... Whoops. :P
Interval 2: Encoded
A loud bang woke me up in the morning. Startled immensely, I sat straight up, bleary-eyed and confused. Wait a minute, I thought, confused. Why am I surrounded by red and gold? The arrival of an apologetic-looking Harry Potter at my bedside reminded me of my current locale, though, and I groaned slightly at the realization that I hadn't dreamed it all up.
However anxious I was, I was also giddy at the thought of being accompanied to Diagon Alley that morning by one of my Professors: probably McGonagall since she was the Deputy. Sighing, I dragged myself out of bed, still in my clothes from the previous day – the only ones I had, mind, and the robes I borrowed from Ron were hanging on one corner of the four-poster.
"Hey, Harry," I said, my voice breathy and in the middle of a sigh – it may have been a bit of a yawn as well. "What's up with that bang? It woke me up." Bringing my fists up, I tried to rub the sleep out of my eyes before stretching my back and grunting when it cracked in several places.
"That would be Ron, sorry," my new friend replied with a sheepish look. "He tripped into the door on his way out. Happens at least once a year, so you'd better get used to putting a Silencing charm on your drapes. I snorted.
"It's no problem, and you shouldn't apologize for the kid either. It's not your fault. Come to think of it," I started, raising the volume on my speech a few notches. "I had to get up anyway. Got to go get myself a wand, books, robes, et cetera et cetera. I'll probably be gone most of the morning." Deciding to pass on the robes since I would presumably be getting my own, I folded them and neatly placed them at the foot at Ron's now-vacated bed.
"Alright then, mate. See you at lunch?" I shrugged at Harry's question, not really knowing whether I'd be back or not. Without another word, I shoved my hands into my jean pockets and left the dorm through the portrait hole, almost running straight into Professor McGonagall herself.
"Oh, sorry, Professor, that was my bad. So who's going to be accompanying me to the Alley? I wouldn't want to take up too much of anyone's time, I'm sure all of you have more important things to worry about than a woefully under-prepared transfer student."
"Nonsense, Mr. MacKay, and don't you dare speak of yourself in such a manner again, if you please! Concerning the Alley, you'll be going with myself, since I'm one of the two people that can access the Scholarship funds in question, and the Headmaster should likely stay in the school and watch over our… Defense Professor." I sensed a distinct distaste in her last two words and nodded soundlessly.
"How shall we be travelling then, ma'am? By Floo, or are you going to take me out to the edge of the wards and Side-Along me? I'm pretty sure Portkeys are out of the question since they're so heavily regulated over here, and you don't seem like the kind of woman who would regularly ride that Knight Bus that you Brits have…" I trailed off, almost fudging my words and mentioning Fawkes.
"You show a rather surprising wealth of knowledge on magical travel for your age, Mr. MacKay. However, this time we will be travelling through the Floo in my office." McGonagall gazed at me curiously as we set off, presumably in the direction of her office, which I seemed to recall being on the first floor, though I couldn't quite remember where I read or saw that.
"It's best to know all possible avenues of escape if you're ever caught in an unfavorable situation. For example, if I and a group of allies were caught in between two colliding forces or outnumbered considerably, it's typically a good idea to have a few contingencies in place just in case you can't blast your way through," I responded, apparently unconsciously deciding to go with the combat explanation for my wording.
McGonagall's stare was piercing now, and I shifted nervously. I wasn't lying when I said it would be a decent idea to know how to escape a wartime emergency, after all, but the two statements I made were irrelevant considering I wasn't from this dimension. After a minute, the professor looked away, and I exhaled a breath I was unaware I was holding.
We continued walking in silence until we reached the Transfiguration office. Unfortunately, since I was lost in thought about how to spin my story and how much half-truth to tell – I despised lying, but it was unavoidable, and I wasn't sure who I should tell about the true distance between my home and Hogwarts. Also unfortunate, there was a great big pink toad standing in front of the door, looking for all the world as if she wanted nothing better than to smite the pair of us off the Earth.
"Hem, hem! Good morning, Professor McGonagall," Umbridge tittered, ignoring me completely. I was glad for her inattention, however, and busied myself with admiring the stonework as I had the previous evening. A few minutes of whispered conversation passed between the 'educators' before the annoying clearing of the less respected woman's throat brought me back into the conversation.
"Very well then, Minerva, but you will be hearing from me in the future about this topic," the Ministry minion stammered out, and I gathered from her scattered look that she was rather unprepared for an argument with the stern Scottish witch. On her way past me, she glared at the side of my head, and I could just feel the whispered "Mudblood," that breezed its way into my ears.
McGonagall, visibly angry from the unpleasant encounter, swiftly opened the door to her office and beckoned me inside. Upon entering, I was pleased with the décor, however little there was. The offices of most of the professors were never really aptly described in any of the fictitious works I had read, barring Snape of course, and I was admittedly curious as to how they were really structured.
My gaze floated about the rectangular room, lingering over the few little nuances that suggested the Professor's lineage and presence. Some tartan there, a coat rack (robe rack? I thought) by the door, a small rug by the fireplace undoubtedly for those scant few fire calls that were necessary evils, and a great oaken desk behind which a hard-backed leather chair sat imperiously.
The desk itself was neatly organized, with stacks of papers orderly arranged according to subject and year along the sides and a line of expensive-looking quills and inkpots grouped above the writing space. The chair looked worn but strong, a clear indicator that even magic couldn't erase a long period of use.
I smiled at the peaceful scene, well able to imagine the Marauders or the Weasley twins being scolded by the Deputy for whatever prank they had committed, before I turned to face the woman in question expectantly.
"Now then, Mr. MacKay, I'm assuming you know how to use the Floo. Make sure to call out 'The Leaky Cauldron!' when you step into the flames, and when you exit, remember to step with your dominant foot confidently or you'll end up on the floor." I nodded along to her words and picked up a pinch of the Floo powder that lay in a bowl upon the mantle of the fireplace.
Flicking my wrist downwards, I watched slightly mesmerized as the powder dissolved into the flames, tinting them green. As I stepped into the flames, I couldn't help but think the experience surreal, as though the fire parted for me and licked up and down my legs, eager to transport me wherever I desired. "The Leaky Cauldron!" I spoke firmly, closing my eyes as I was sucked into a vortex of roiling flames.
All too soon, I found myself stepping out of the Floo into one of the most contented-looking environments I had ever seen. The Leaky Cauldron was set up just as the set had depicted in the beginning of the third movie, and I was already excited to take my first steps into the magical shopping center of the Wizarding World.
While I was staring at my surroundings, the Floo behind me and to the right a little belched out a composed Deputy Headmistress, and she strode forward without waiting for me, tapping the usual bricks on the wall out the back of the Cauldron in a practiced manner. "Right this way, Mr. MacKay, we have to visit Gringotts before anything else."
I didn't bother to respond this time, knowing it would be futile since we would likely only be here for an hour or two. McGonagall was easily likable for someone like me; having a reserved, disciplined air about her. As we crossed the Alley, I tried not to gawk too much, instead keeping my eyes on the white and gold marble building at the end of the street that I knew was Gringotts bank.
Upon entering the double doors, guarded by two goblins who looked quite intimidating with their halberds and full plate mail, the two of us were transported into an entirely different atmosphere as quiet descended on us. Since it was rather early in the morning, the lines for each of the tellers were short, and McGonagall made a beeline for one that only had a few witches and wizards queued up.
When we reached the desk for the teller at last, I stood at ease while McGonagall conversed in low tones with the stout creature manning the counter. Suddenly feeling as if I was being watched, I turned around to see a full entourage of the magical beings headed straight for me; eyes wide, I very nearly let out an exclamation of shock at the sight before stopping myself, allowing my voice to only croak an "Uh…" at the professor as urgently as I could.
Tersely, the woman made to scold me for interrupting her before she caught a view of the goblins out of the corner of her eye. Unfortunately, before she could assist me with the situation, the creature in the lead barked out a command I assumed meant "Halt!" in their language before pointing at me with one gnarled finger.
"Human! You will come with us, and leave your escort behind. She can retrieve you in 30 minutes time from the entrance to the bank!" McGonagall made to protest, but I stopped her with a hand.
"This is probably pretty important if they're doing this during business hours in the lobby of all places, Professor. I really ought to go with them, and I promise I won't try to escape to the outside world without informing you first." The Deputy gave a mighty sigh before waving me away, shaking her head and walking away muttering about damned fools and old goats.
"Lead on, my good sir," I said to the group of beings in front of me, certainly in no mood to discriminate because of a difference in appearance. After all, these people had sentience as well as humans, and many of them had a hell of a lot more common sense, so there was little point in treating them as lesser because I had a wand; or rather, would have a wand.
Unsurprisingly, the entourage led me to the base of an ornately decorated door that had been described only in fanfictions, after a great many twists and turns of course. The six goblins that had accompanied the lead stood and braced themselves against either one, pushing them open soundlessly to reveal one of the grandest offices I had ever stepped foot into.
Along the red carpet – literally red, probably with blood if the asymmetrical patterning of the splotches was any indicator – on either side were broad, ionic Roman pillars shaped from marble. In between each of these were desks housing hundreds of sheaves of papers or weapons or armors, and I could hardly glance at any of them as I was goaded into a cushioned chair across from a massive cedar desk.
In front of me was an almost human looking goblin that I supposed was Ragnok, who would undoubtedly be introduced to me as the King of the Goblin Nation or some such rubbish, before they either told me they knew I was a dimension traveler or that I had come into some powerful inheritance that held dominion over half of Magical Britain. Granted, it was highly likely it was simply the first one, but I could always hope, yes?
"Greetings, traveler. My name is Ragnok, and I am the king of the Goblin Nation in which you now tread. I've called you here today to ask why you never came to visit us when you arrived in this dimension like you should have been directed to in between worlds. Were you not aware of this regulation?" I blinked. Huh. So the goblins were kind of like the Men in Black for dimensional travelers.
"Well, my liege," I started finally, hopefully showing the goblin leader the proper respects. "I didn't exactly plan to come here, but it just kind of happened. And besides that, there was some time dilation involved, so it's probable I come from the future as well, instead of a mere alternate universe." It was Ragnok's turn to blink.
After an awkward moment passed, I cleared my throat again. "In my time, I was a Mundane, and I had never been out of America… More than that, books had been published detailing the events leading up to this point and then following it for another two years, and I've seen nothing to indicate that my future and past knowledge is obsolete yet. I don't know if that helps or not, but I figure since you obviously know about dimensional travel then you'll probably be able to shine some light on this."
Unfortunately, my words only served to deepen the silence between us, and after a few minutes of enduring the goblin's piercing stare, I started to fidget in my seat. Suddenly, just as I was starting to visibly shake, the being stood and circled to my side of the desk. Alarmed, I also stood, only to be shoved back down into the chair by his hand as he passed by me and out the front door to his office, returning after a moment.
"If what you say is true, traveler, then you won't be the first to come here with prior knowledge of our world as being fiction. When my servants return, you will submit to a blood test for us. I have my suspicions about why you've been brought here, but the test is needed to confirm any hypotheses I might have." I sighed mentally. Of course, I thought, shaking my head. It couldn't be just one or the other. It's got to be both.
I was about to ask how long it would take for Ragnok's servants to return when the doors were pushed open and two goblins entered, levitating a large stone basin between them that contained a swirling mass of some concoction that seemed to be part liquid and part gas. When they reached the desk, Ragnok summoned a stand for the basin and the servants eased the stone into the holder, bowing low and retreating back through the doors to the office with their noses on the floor.
"What do I need to do here, my liege?" I enquired, a bit confused. I didn't see any knives with which to slice open my palm or anything, and I wasn't eager to try the same thing with anything longer than half a meter.
The goblin king laughed and I winced at the sound before he gestured to the bowl of 'potion', for now that I was up close the brew looked to contain an innumerable quantity of stars and blinking lights, and an unnatural breeze had kicked up in the room as every step brought me nearer to the basin. When I looked into the mixture, it rippled silently, spreading out to the sides and returning to the middle in a hypnotic movement that drew me closer and closer until my face had dipped into the liquid, my arms bracing me on either side.
Darkness.
The sensation of falling.
The feeling of a grassland below me. The sound of a stream bubbling along close by. I felt a soft wind tickle the back of my head playfully and pushed myself up from the ground I was now laying on. "Is this a dream?" I wondered aloud, undeniably curious. A chuckle from behind me caused my torso to snap around with an almost inhuman speed, my eyes wide as I beheld the figure standing before me.
The man looked like a combination of every old and wizened wizard ever depicted in literature and the media all rolled into one, and every time I blinked or looked away, he changed shape. "My, my, it has been a while since the last time I got a visit, hasn't it?" I had the feeling he wasn't speaking to me directly, and simply cocked my head, relaxing when a feeling of peace washed over me reassuringly.
What should I ask? I thought. A minute ago I was in a marvelously built office and now I'm in an endless meadow? What the heck?
"What should you ask indeed, child…" the man trailed off, hitting me with a stare so intense I tripped and fell downwards onto the ground behind me, shocked at the sudden change in his outward appearance, for the man had warped into a terrifying visage of strength, looking deep into my soul as though I was transparent.
An eternity passed before the man looked away, and when his gaze returned to me I realized with a start who I had just met. Unfortunately, he only smiled a crooked half smile, cocking an eyebrow at me as I fell through the floor again, this time into a light so blinding, so intense, that it burned my very skin away; however, I felt nothing but numbness as I repeated the man's name over and over, wondering not for the first time what the fuck I had gotten myself into.
And then it was over, and I reeled back from the basin in Ragnok's office. I blinked once, twice, and a third time, trying desperately to connect the dots. "But- but- what?" I managed to croak, unable to comprehend the full magnitude of what had just happened. Stiffly, I turned to Ragnok, only to be further shocked when he bowed before me in respect. Seriously, I thought before passing out. What the literal fuck?!
I woke up from a dreamless sleep in the same chair I had been in before the clearly drug-induced trance and subsequent goblin allegiance incident. Ragnok was sitting across from me with his hands folded on the desk in front of him, and I made to speak, but he beat me to it. "Welcome back, my Lord Vithar. It is a pleasure to meet my ancestor at last." My mouth dropped open, and I stuttered incomprehensibly for a minute more before his words fully registered.
"Wait, wait, wait, what do you mean, ancestor?! And I certainly don't feel like an Old Norse god, let alone one of the few who survived Ragnarӧk in the myths of old! Hold on, does this mean I won't be going back to my old world?!" The goblin king – well, technically, I was the goblin king, but I tried not to dwell on that at the present time – raised his eyes to meet mine and nodded solemnly. I groaned loudly and muttered, "Just fucking great. Well since I'm stuck here, what exactly does this whole 'Lord Vithar' thing mean?"
Ragnok took a minute to respond. "If you would follow me for a few moments, I would show you, my Lord," he said, and stood from his chair once more. Hesitating for a moment, I decided there wouldn't be any harm in following the being as long as I found out more of what the deal with this whole 'Lord' thing was about.
When the two of us left the office, it was through not the front door but a smaller one off to the side but on the same wall. However, the hallway I expected to emerge into upon leaving through the rectangular portal was swiftly replaced by another unbelievable sight: a massive floating island above the Earth, surrounded on all sides by ocean, and I groaned again as I turned back to see the door from which we had emerged disappear into dust on the ground.
With a sigh, I faced Ragnok again, who had trotted off quite a distance while I hopelessly watched my escape disintegrate into naught. Jogging a bit, I had almost caught up to him when my surroundings changed again, and I found I had walked through a false wall in the air into a richly decorated parlor. A wolf head the size of my entire body was mounted on the back-most wall, and I knew at once it was that of the original Fenrir.
Ragnok had disappeared when I looked forward again, and I sighed again, wondering when I had lost count of the exhalations. Unable to do much else, I circled to Fenrir's mounted helm, trying to wrap my mind around what was happening. This was most certainly not Harry Potter canon, and I wasn't quite sure how to react to the situation.
I finished my ponderings with a shake of my head, unable to grasp the point of it all. Turning about in the room I now found myself in, I snorted when I noticed the door to this one had disappeared as well, and sat down at a desk that had appeared in the time it took me to look away from the door's previous location, a short-sword upon it that gleamed in the soft lamplight of the parlor.
Curious, I went to pick up the weapon, stopping a hairsbreadth short of it with my fingertips; I had felt a shiver of anticipation that wasn't my own run down my spine, and I wondered from where it stemmed for a moment before shrugging off my worry and grabbing the hilt almost reverently. Suddenly, a rush of power ran through me, and I felt a deep silence descend over me as a million years of pictures ran through my mind in succession.
Stabbing pains struck my body, lacerations and wounds coated my chest and arms, shredding the clothing I had on before healing rapidly, leaving behind them scars too real for me to put them aside as my imagination. Sorrows beyond imagination, vengeances gained through horrible means and tortures, a long period of silence, and then peace. It all flashed through me as I was forced to process the memories of a god-like being rushing through me, and the knowledge that went along with it. The vast, terrifying knowledge of the cosmos and its contents, the comforting sureness that there was a Creator, the conflicts of old and the scars that came along with them.
And then it was finished, and I collapsed into the back of a chair that wasn't there before, turning the sword in my hand in wonder. When I reached behind me with my hand to rub my neck, I realized with a start my arms were rather muscular; I was still lean, of course, but I had developed an unnerving strength that struggled excitedly inside me, eager to be set free against my enemies.
"Hmph," I snorted, marveling at how my voice had deepened to a lower tenor than before, dropping into the baritone ranges based on the inflections in my tone. "This is different," I said, pleased I had retained my human identity through my transformation to a higher state of being. I wasn't a god, per say – none of the Old Norse myths were; we were just exceptionally powerful and knowledgeable beings much like the Chozo in the Metroid series, though we weren't exactly giant birds.
I could feel the extension of my lifespan, and I knew exactly how old I would live to be before ascending to be with the rest of my family – earthly and… well, not earthly. That isn't to say that I knew my future; far from it, and I was well aware that I could still make wrong choices if I didn't trust in my Creator and God to lead me with the Blade in my hand. The Chosen Blade of the Creator, and it had been entrusted to me of all people.
Of course, I was now aware that I was both Charles MacKay of America, born in 1996, and Vithar the son of Odin, the slayer of Fenrir and avenger of Baldr, one of the few survivors of Ragnarӧk. I may have had millions of years of memories in my mind, but most of them were sealed away except for the ones most important to my personality and identities; and I sensed that if the full extent of my thoughts were released, I would likely implode on the spot from the stress of it all.
"Well then old friend," I spoke to the Sword, feeling a happy thrum flow through it and up my forearm. "I should think it time to venture into the fray of life and death again. Are you ready to become a legend again?" I didn't wait for an answer, laughing loudly and throwing my head back in mirth, relishing the feelings of confidence and love that filled me to the brim.
Once finished with my happiness, I stood, a fierce determination in my eyes that I had never felt before. Turning to where the door had been, I raised my Sword at the wall and willed the portal to appear, wishing for it to lead back to the goblin's office. Lo and behold, the door came into view as if it always lay in its place, and I strode through it with my back straight and head held high.
Returning from the time Before, the home I had made for myself after the Earth flooded in the wake of Ragnarӧk, was slightly disconcerting. There were thousands of years between the two planes of existence, and I spanned them with a single step, able to traverse the distance only this once through the aid of God, and I knew I would never perform such a feat again. I took another step, and I was in the goblin king's room again, a dozen of the shorter beings before me.
"Greetings, my descendants," my voice burst from me, and I knew it was not the human part of me that spoke but the powerful being that dwelled in my soul. "You may rise and greet your new Lord, for I am now Charles Vithar, half-human and half… something else. I'm both impossibly young and unfathomably old, and I've come back to this plane to finish what we started all those years ago. First, though, I must help those at the Wizard school. They deserve that much from me."
"But my liege, all your plans –" it was Ragnok, and I cut him off with a wave of my hand and a conciliatory smile.
"My plans can wait, child. There are larger powers afoot in the world today than those of which you speak; and Fenrir's children still roam the Earth while Loki's only living son gathers his Dark Army as we speak. You know of whom I speak, just as you know that I must find my mate once again."
The goblins looked at each other, then at me, then back at the floor. "As you command, Lord Vithar," they chanted, and I waved them away, placing a glamour over myself to restore my previous appearance before turning and easily finding the lobby of the bank. An exasperated Professor McGonagall awaited me, and I noted it had been barely a quarter of an hour since I had stepped into the bank for the first time. Time is a funny thing, I thought to myself with a laugh.
"I apologize for making you wait, Professor. The goblins seem to have discovered that I'm the heir of a rather wealthy family, and the Scholarship funds are no longer needed. In fact, when you return them to the vault, I daresay the monies contained within will be double or even triple what they were prior to my intervention here as compensation." I did feel guilty at having the stern old woman fetch gold so pointlessly for me.
"That's quite alright, Mr. MacKay," she replied, trying to stare through my façade of calmness as if I had lied about my lineage – which I hadn't, I was just much, much more than human. "It was only a minor delay, and we'll be off to Ollivander's shortly for your wand. While you're there, I'll pick up your books and potion supplies. Would you like an owl for your time here?" I thought for a moment before shaking my head in negation.
"Thank you for the offer, but I must decline, Professor. I think I know the way from here to the wand shop. Would you like to rendezvous at the ice cream parlor I noticed at the intersection up there?" The professor nodded at my suggestion, and I thanked God that she seemed to trust the polite sixteen year old American I appeared to be.
"That is acceptable, Mr. MacKay, but I should expect to see you there as soon as you retrieve your wand so we may get you fitted for robes; I dread to think of what that loathsome woman is brewing at the castle while we're gone…" McGonagall trailed off when she realized what she had said, and we departed from the bank in silence, the Deputy veering off from our path once we reached the establishment I knew from the front display was the Apothecary.
I had only a bit further to walk before my destination came into view: Ollivander's Wand Shop. "Fine makers of wands since 782 B.C.," I read with a smirk. "782 B.C. indeed." I entered the shop, dropping my glamour when I was sure there was no one else present and waiting for old Garrick to come into view from the bowels of his store.
And come into view he did; creepy stooped posture straightening when he caught sight of me and eyes widening so far I worried for a moment they would pop out in surprise. "Good afternoon, Uncle," I greeted him, and grinned when his own age-old glamour dropped to reveal the frame of Odin's brother Vili shown out instead.
My father, the one who died prior to the re-making of the world, anyway, had two brothers that were scarcely mentioned in the myths of old: Vili and Vé. Together, they were similar to the Greeks and their trifecta of primary gods: Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades. According to those preposterous Nords, Odin along with his brothers created the world and humanity; each of them gifting an aspect of intelligence to the younger beings.
Naturally, this wasn't actually true. In fact, the three brothers had just happened to stumble into Earth's plains on a vacation gone awry (they took a wrong turn while they were busy arguing over the map), and they decided to stick around after they saw how awesome the humans were. And that's another thing: because of some moron's need for drama between the brothers, they made Vili and Vé copulate with Odin's then-wife Frigg! That's a story for another time, though.
"Vithar, my nephew!" he cried, making his way to me and embracing me firmly. "You've come back!" Although the mythology around my father's brothers said they created humanity together, while this uncle of mine in question gifted them with intelligence, all my dear uncle really gave the humans was sarcasm and the drier side of humor, being a snarky old man himself.
"It's great to be back, Uncle, but we have much to do. Do you still have my spear?" he nodded and rolled his eyes at the obviously answered question; if he hadn't had her, I probably wouldn't have come – still, it was polite to ask.
"As if anyone other than you could wield her, Vith," Vili snorted fondly, and I smiled. "Come into the back with me, I have it in my room." Raising an eyebrow and thinking of how all I had been doing lately was following people, I stepped into line next to my uncle.
As the two of us wove our way between stacks of wands, we conversed quietly over how I had come into my memories once again. I had fun telling the story; after all, it wasn't every day you survived a world-ending war and were reincarnated as a human boy in a pocket universe that was then transported back through time and space in order to claim his original memories!
At last, Vili led me to a door in the very back of the shop, and when he opened it I stepped into a pure white room. The walls, ceiling, and floor were likely made of some unearthly material I had never heard of, and I was forced to avert my eyes from them after a few seconds, for even as I watched them, knowledge long-forgotten and forever-forbidden came to the fore, begging me to read it and digest it.
"Really, Vili?" I enquired, having to shut my eyes lest I be corrupted by the compulsions being forced into me. "Was it really necessary to make the entire room out of the woods from the center of Yggdrasil?" I felt rather than saw my relation shrug sheepishly.
"Hey!" he protested. "It's not my problem you youngsters can't fathom the wealth of knowledge the Tree holds!" I sighed. My uncle's name stood for everything cognitive in humanity – internal thought, actions borne of planning, and knowledge gained through noble pursuits, and he certainly had lived up to it this time. "Fine, fine, I'll dim the lights, I'll dim the lights. Létta Ljós," he incanted in Old Norse, dulling the headache that originated from the wood.
Cautiously, warily, I opened my eyes again to see my uncle reclining in an armchair that materialized as he went to sit. Knowing that I would be able to do the same, I summoned my own seat and relaxed across from him, taking a deep breath of the fresh air swirling about the powerful room. "So, uncle," I started, a cheeky smile adorning my face. "Back to playing the creepy old man?" I laughed at the indignant expression on his lined face.
"I had to do something with my time since Vé went away to some arctic wonderland where he could do who-knows-what, you know, and I'm not that much a fan of inhospitable, freezing-cold rocks to follow him. And since Odin's long-dead, I can't even call him over for a chat, so I found something I liked doing and settled down here in Britain!" I laughed harder at his explanation, heartily enjoying the time spent with my wayward blood.
"Yeah, yeah, excuses, excuses. Anyway, uncle," I calmed, pointing my gaze into his eyes. "My spear? I'm on a timer, see, since I'm leading this double life now, and I'll need her in order to accomplish my goals." Vili straightened as well, meeting my stare without fear and nodding when I finished speaking.
"Of course, nephew. I trust you know how to awaken her full power as you once did?" It was my turn to roll my eyes; as if I would forget my most trusted companion and lover so easily. "Right. Stupid question. I'll fetch her for you, wait right where you are, then…" Vili finished in a mutter, standing and approaching the wall opposite me to begin chanting in our native tongue.
A minute passed, and then another, and I lost myself in my memories of the World Tree and my childhood among the stars outside the Spatial Realms as time passed me by slowly. I had grown up an intensely introverted son since Odin, as great a father as he was, had his eldest sons Thor and Loki to worry about on top of being the king of Asgard, our home for the majority of my early years.
After I reached the age of one hundred earth-years, I set off on the usual coming-of-age walkabout that the Asgardians celebrated, eager to please my loving father (though he was frequently indifferent to my actions). I met both my uncles in their homes in the Spatial Realms over the next few hundred years as I pursued the purpose the Creator made for me, yearning for something, anything to end the silence I had imposed upon myself.
Nine hundred earth-years (For the sake of keeping my mind clear of the perplexing abstract that is time, years and earth-years are interchangeable from now on) passed in silence before I discovered my identity. I had exhausted myself in the Central Planes first, opting to spiral out into the Lesser Worlds and Peripheral Domains after I had concluded my search in the most affluent worlds. I had kept vigil over my speech the entire time I was away, only speaking when gestures could not provide enough understanding to the beings I encountered.
It was when I arrived on a platform deep in the Peripherals of space that I met my adversary for the first time. The Great Wolf Fenrir, one of Loki's chaotic and evil children, was in the process of razing the settlements of the ethereal residents of the dimension I had alighted on when I regained my sight.
Without conscious motion on my part, my sword drew itself from the sheath on my back and placed itself in my hands, thrumming as it changed shape into that which it was this very day. For a moment, I could only gaze in awe and wonder as I felt its presence sneak into my mind and soul, comforting me with its warmth before I was brought out of my semi-thoughtful state by a sharp growl.
Fenrir had smelled me out, and turned to me in what was obviously meant to be a threatening manner. The Wolf had not developed its intelligence yet, being one of Loki's youngest spawn, and it only knew blood and death until much later in our clash, near its nemesis at my hands. Faster than I could react, it pounced, and the hand holding the Sword blurred as the Creator guided my movements.
Even with the assistance of the Creator, I was still heavily outmatched. After an interminable time, I was near-fatally wounded by one of Fenrir's attacks, and I lay helpless and immobilized on the platform of existence as the Wolf howled in victory. However, as sudden as it had attacked, Fenrir paused in its advance and retreated away from the Peripherals, bounding across the stars into the horizon of my vision even as my eyes blurred and I lost consciousness.
During the time I spent in my coma-like state, I was unsure of what occurred outside my mental fortress. I could feel nothing, see nothing, and hear nothing for multiple eternities, locked within my own head. Without the calming presence of the Sword, I would have long since lost my sanity amid the roaring silence and definite blackness of my mindscape.
In the time of Sleep I resided in then, I took the time to painstakingly go through my memories, examining each one's potency and criticizing my actions, making improvements to my form, posture, style, and intelligence along the way to assist me when I awoke at last. I had little else to accomplish, after all.
When I finally opened my physical eyes again, I was in the center of the World Tree, a living wood that formed a room around me similar to those which Vili had built for himself. I stood on aching legs, nearly falling over at the sudden stress, perplexed at my weakness for where I now stood. I knew at once I was in the core of Yggdrasil from the texture of the walls around me, but I remained unsure of how I had been transported there from my previous location in the Peripheral Domains.
Resolving to stay wary of my surroundings, I approached the wall directly in front of me, marveling at the Tree's divinity and sentience when a portal formed through which another room lay. Hesitating only a moment, I strode through it, not expecting any change in the décor. Therefore, I found myself involuntarily surprised when a woman walked out of the wall from the back.
She was beautiful, the most beautiful being I had ever laid my eyes upon. Her hair was made from rods of light, floating gently down to midway down her back, and she had a face that spoke of an unusual peace and sorrow. Though short and relatively un-muscled, her body radiated a firm sharpness that reverberated against my well-built frame. Unable to speak, I merely stared as she padded over to me, barefoot and naked except for a light bright enough to shine around her and cover her modestly.
Stopping inches from me, she stared into me, and I was mesmerized by the sight. Her eyes were the most expressive shade of silver-gray there was in all the worlds, and they pierced through my shields with ease and grace I never thought possible, as if I had subconsciously allowed her into my stronghold. She swiftly navigated the twists and turns of my inner self, moving deeper into me as we continued our locked gaze, and it seemed as though she had been inside me before.
To this day, the reason why I acted as I did when the woman found the core of my being is unknown. I hadn't spoken a word aloud in three hundred years, and yet my voice burst from my lips as strong as the day I had first set out on my search. "Sváss," I breathed, and she tilted her head towards mine, meeting my lips in a kiss of tenderness and love so sweet I was unable to stand any longer, sinking back with her onto a bed of pure white, of infinite softness.
The two of us, the woman and I, became one with each other in body, mind, and soul in that cradle of the World Tree. We bonded in a way that would forever span the cosmos, and I knew then that our union would never break, even across great distances, against time itself. We had become as one person, sharing every aspect of each other with each other, basking in the other's warmth, coming to know everything of the other's life and birth.
More amazingly, that time spent (night?) in the core of the World Tree brought us closer to the Creator and his own heavens than any before us, and together we felt the Sword and its importance settle in our combined conscience.
Alas, we could not stay in that peaceful place forever, and as we left the woman shifted form into the spear I would wield alongside the Sword to slay Fenrir. Grasping the hilt firmly, lovingly, I admired the way the wood of the shaft bent the light around it, drawing it in and expelling it in a magnificent show of purity and gentleness that somehow cooperated with the spearhead's sharp deadliness.
The clearing of a throat brought me out of my pleasant remembrances. Blinking, I looked around before sighing, realizing I had drifted off while my uncle had fetched the spear's base shape from the wall of his created room. Taking it, I felt an emptiness rush through me with the knowledge that I would be unable to meet with my beloved, my Sváss, until I found her accompanying human form.
"Thank you, uncle," I murmured, still half-lost in thought and bittersweet memory. Shaking myself out of my stupor, I stood and hugged him to my chest, vanishing the spear into a pocket of space invisible to humans. "I must take my leave. Could you provide me with the Wand, for the time that I remain in this plane?" Solemnly, knowing my pain, my uncle nodded and pulled an old, gnarled red stick from his pocket, handing it over to me after we pulled away from each other.
"Take care of it, Vith," he spoke softly, and I knew he was aware of where my mind had wandered. "And find her quickly. I would hate to see another of my nephews lost to the pains of despair and insanity like Loki and Thor were in the end." I nodded and departed from the back room, re-applying my glamour as I made my way to the Alley that seemed far less enchanting now I was so lost in thought, and with one final glance back into the bowels of that building where the last remnants of the World Tree lay, I resolved to finish my fight once and for all so I could relax with my beloved once more.