Chapter 2: Soul of a Warrior

It was minor at first, just a slight tug backwards that was of little significance. As time passed, it got heavier and heavier to the point that her chest was pressing on her chest again. Gravity seemed to have gotten a hold of her as she felt like she was falling, but she could not look down as she could not turn her body nor open her eyes. Then, she felt her heart start beating again, faster, and faster until it felt like it was hitting against her ribcage. She started hearing a whoosh of air rush past her as if she stood in the middle of a windstorm, her skin started feeling a prickly sensation, and she could move her eyes around again although her eyelids remained firmly shut. She tried to breath but her lungs would not expand. The feeling of discomfort grew quickly until she felt like she was about to suffocate.

Finally, air rushed into her nose and filled her lungs once more, and her eyes shot open.

Freya woke up quickly with rapid and loud gasps, her eyes wide with panic and her right hand grabbed her chest as she felt a temporary surge of pain through it. Pain, that was a good indicator that she was still alive. With that thought, Freya took a big gulp of saliva to calm herself down and managed to slow her breathing after considerable effort. The tingling in her mouth disappeared, although it felt rather cold and dry along with her throat. She instinctively looked around for something to drink and was quick to notice a wooden table next to her bed with a mug on it. Freya reached out for it and gulped down its content. The fresh water tasted so sweet and refreshing that after she was done, she felt a sense of indescribable comfort in her. It was as if the first drink she had in many years.

With her thirst quenched, Freya began taking notice of her surroundings. It looked like a small cabin made of wood and stone, but the architecture was completely foreign to her. Throughout her adventures with her friend Zidane, she had been to many places even beyond the Mist Continent, including on the surface of another world. She could not recall any kingdom or place that had a roof that completely covered one side of the house and with a firepit in the middle of a home. With the soft glow of flames from the firepit illuminating the cabin, Freya could see a table and two chairs located near it, and on that table was what looked like a pile of manuscripts and a bowl with a spoon in it. Looking down, she saw the bed that she was lying on was made of hay with a blanket of wool covering her legs.

"How did I get here?" she asked herself softly.

Thinking hard, Freya recalled being bound alongside Sir Fratley, her lover. There was a fight happening, and a hail of arrows. Instinctively, she felt her chest and throat with her hands and probed them for injuries. No scar or wounds. Was it just a dream then? It felt so vivid and real, and she swore she felt the arrows pierce her and that the pain was overwhelming. Shakily, the Burmecian got up from the bed of hay and groggily walked towards the table. Her legs felt like jelly and threatened to give out, but she managed to hold onto the table's edge and steadied herself. Looking at the bowl, it contained a piece of fish in it, freshly cooked and warm. As she was not hungry, her attention was quickly turned to the manuscripts. Immediately, she noticed the writings were unfamiliar and strange. The shapes were geometric and angled unlike Burmecia's writing system. All the manuscripts were written in the same language, so there was no point in trying to decipher them.

A soft blue glow from the corner of the cabin near a door made her look, and Freya hurried over to see what it was. It was a crystal, and she swore she had seen something like this before, although the one she saw was a lot more colossal than that. When she touched the surface of the crystal with her finger, she felt a tug coming from it. At the same time, she thought she heard what sounded like singing or chanting coming from somewhere nearby, but there was nobody around her when she looked about. Freya swore she saw something inside it, but before she could take a closer look, the sound of the door opening made her jump and yelp in surprise. Spinning around, she saw a tall old man with a long beard and robes that made him look like a wizard of sorts. He had one eye missing and in his right hand held a spear which doubled as his walking stick. His single eye good eye studied her intently before he broke into a soft smile. He said something in a language that again sounded foreign, neither Burmecian nor languages spoken in Alexandria or Lindblum. All she could manage was a confused and dumbfounded expression.

Fortunately, the old man caught on quickly, and he held up a palm while walking towards the side of the bed. He grabbed the now empty mug and approached the firepit. There was a cooking pot hanging over the fire, and the old man opened the lid to scoop out some liquid from it. After that, he went back to Freya's side and offered her the mug. Cautiously, the dragoon accepted it but did not drink as she saw that the liquid looked almost like blood, even though there was no metallic smell coming from it. The old man gestured to her to drink it, so Freya reluctantly obliged. When the liquid touched her lips, she noticed it tasted sweet at first. However, the more she drank, the quicker it tasted foul like bile. Freya dropped the mug and began hunching over to cough violently. Drops that she had not swallowed were spilt onto the floor. Despite the spilt drink, the old man did not seem concerned or offended, merely watching her in silence.

When Freya had stopped coughing, she looked at him angrily and said, "What the hell was that?!"

"I see you can speak our language now," the old man said with a smile. "Do not worry, it's not poison."

"Wait," Freya muttered while wiping the side of her mouth. "I…can understand you."

"A little gift of knowledge to help you get started. It's the least I can do for a welcome," he replied as he went to sit at the table. "Come, have a look," he added while beckoning her over.

Obliging, the Burmecian walked over to the table as the old man laid out a manuscript. It was the first piece she had tried reading earlier, but this time, she understood what it was: a piece of history detailing a great war and unification of gods. "Æsir–Vanir War," she muttered. Turning to the old man, she asked, "What was that you gave me?"

"It's a drink of knowledge," the man replied cryptically. "Just enough for you to converse with the inhabitants of Midgard."

"Who are you then?"

The old man paused for a bit and chuckled. "Allfather, Mighty God, Wise One, Stormer, I go by many names as given by others." He looked at Freya and gave her a nod. "But you can just call me Odin."

Freya immediately felt weak in her knees and stumbled back before falling onto the ground. That name rang terror in her heart and horrible memories surfaced as she recounted the destruction of Cleyra by a titanic eidolon that effortlessly wiped the home tree off the face of the world. Yet, before her sat a frail-looking old man about as tall as her and he looked nothing like the Odin she remembered seeing. This had to be a joke, eidolons did not interact with non-summoners like that, Freya was sure of it. As if on cue to reassure her, the old man who called himself Odin had approached her and held out his left hand. Shakily, she raised hers and grabbed it, and the old man helped her up slowly.

"You look like you've seen a ghost, my dear," he said.

"J-just bad memories," Freya said dismissively while placing her hand on her chest, her heart pounding furiously like the time she woke up.

"So it seems," Odin said kindly. "I know what haunts you, but rest assured, I am not who you think I am, not exactly anyway."

"How would you know that?" Freya asked suspiciously.

"It's simple. I had to negotiate with that sad excuse of an imitation you called Odin for the possession of your soul," Odin replied so nonchalantly as if it was a normal occurrence. He walked towards the blue crystal and tapped it lightly with his spear. "Are you familiar with the soul cycle of Gaia, your world?"

"I suppose so," Freya replied with a hint of uncertainty. "I only ever heard people talking about it, can't remember the fine details."

Odin blinked his one good eye and nodded. "Well, it's simple. When one dies, their souls return to the crystal core of the planet, bringing along with them their memories and experiences which essentially helps it grow. The eidolon you called Odin is born from the crystal to be its guardian. I will be the first to tell you that I've been on Gaia before," he said in an almost proud manner.

"Wait, so where are we now exactly?" Freya asked out of curiosity, though she felt like she would not like the answer.

"This, my dear, is Midgard. Some call it Terra, others call it Gaia, words for the same world from different cultures," Odin explained. "As for how I relate to the eidolon, well, my travels are many and upon your world, I walked among the peoples of old in many guises, but most know me as a warrior. Their memories of me birthed a protector that only looks half as good," he said jokingly.

"So…Gaia and Terra are the same here? A-and Odin is you?" Freya muttered. She felt a dull pain in her head and she rubbed her temples with her fingers. "This is just too much to take in."

"I do not blame you, but back to the importance of the crystal," he said while tapping the crystal again, causing it to emit a soft echoing ring. "It's essentially your lifeline."

"Lifeline? You say that as if something bad would happen," Freya said as she stopped rubbing her head to look at it.

"Your soul doesn't belong to Midgard, and it does not have the same soul cycle as Gaia. Should you die here, I cannot get it back easily because of the many different afterlife. I cannot guarantee you will end up in either Valhalla or Fólkvangr. The crystal is your lifeline because it imitates the soul cycle of your world. I have attached a magic spell to it so that when your soul returns here, it will be reformed in a new body without my intervention," Odin explained, this time in a serious manner. "Which reminds me, do wear this," he added while reaching into his robes and producing a necklace with a blue crystal hanging off it. "This will ensure the return of your soul to this crystal."

Freya grabbed the necklace and opened her fingers slowly, marvelling at the crystal that glowed a soft blue which felt warm to touch. After wearing it around her neck, she looked at Odin and asked, "Why am I here?"

To that, the Allfather smiled and went to pat her shoulder. "I needed a champion," he said simply and walked past her. He opened the door and a gust of cold air flooded into the cabin, threatening to extinguish the firepit and scatter the manuscripts. "Why don't you join me outside and we'll talk more about it? It's really cramped in here. Oh, and don't forget to put on some cold weather clothes," said Odin while pointing at a familiar set of red outfit and a pair of fur boots tailored to the shape of her feet on the bed before closing the door.

The Burmecian raised an eyebrow, she did not recall seeing those there when she woke up. However, judging by that gust of cold air, she dreaded thinking about walking outside in her current outfit of a linen smock and an apron. After changing into her red dragon knight armour, Freya opened the door and the same gust of wind greeted her which nearly blew her hat off. Her lips went dry quickly, but it did little to distract her from admiring the scenery. There was a lake in front of the cabin where cattle and horses grazed in the fields and in the sky above was a rainbow arch that spanned between two mountains. The skies were light gray in colour and partially covered the sun. It was slightly misty and while she felt cautious at first, the mist did not seem to feel heavy and oppressive like the one she experienced back on Gaia. It felt cold, clear, and almost alive in the wind. Freya could not help but take a very deep breath and breathed out with a relaxed smile on her face.

The sound of waves behind her caught her attention, so she went around the cabin to see that it stood near the edge of a cliff. It was a sheer drop into the churning sea below where sharp and jagged rocks poked out of the crashing waves like tips of giant stone spear heads. There was a small garden behind the cabin where she noticed an odd assortment of flowers and plants were grown in stone planters. Odin was gingerly inspecting some of the flowers and had plucked a few berries from a bush growing in one of the planters. Freya walked towards him, and for a moment, it seemed like he did not notice her. After he finished plucking berries from another bush, he turned to look at Freya who wore a look of confusion on her face.

"Yes?" he asked kindly.

"You do gardening?" Freya asked.

"Even a god can have other hobbies besides fighting and feasting all day," he answered with a chuckle. "Freyr got me into this. It's therapeutic. Freyja told me I needed to relax a little from time to time."

"I don't recall saying that," Freya pointed out in a confused tone. "I just got here."

"No, no, I meant my wife Freyja," Odin replied with a chuckle. "What's your full name?"

"Oh, uh…Freya Crescent," the Burmecian replied, her face slightly red with embarrassment and she was rubbing the back of her head.

"Not a completely Norse-sounding name but that makes it easier to identify. Come, let's have a walk," Odin said and gestured for her to follow him.

They took a slow walk down a stone path that led to the lake with parts of a broken wall scattered about on both sides. Several leafless trees scattered about land around them, their branches moving with the direction of the wind. An elk was seen graving under one, stopping only to give the two a brief look before returning to its feeding. To Freya, it felt quite peaceful, and the cold made her feel alive. Unlike the constant rain of Burmecia that got dreary very quickly when one walked outside for a bit, the air here was crisp and there was no humidity to weigh a person down. When they reached the edge of the lake, the stone path took a right turn and the two followed it.

"Allfather," Freya started but Odin cut her off.

"Calling me Odin will do, no need to get all formal with me. I already get enough of that from the other gods and humans," Odin said.

"Odin," Freya said softly. "You said you wanted me to become your champion. What's that supposed to mean, and why me specifically?"

"Well," Odin replied while stroking his beard. "It means exactly what it means. I just needed a champion to fight in my name. As for why I picked you, I just wanted someone different."

Freya blinked. "That's it?"

"That's it," Odin repeated.

"No special reason, no 'Chosen One' prophecy; just wanted someone different?"

"Were you hoping to be the Chosen One?"

"No."

"Then no, I just wanted a different champion. I still have some connection to that eidolon that bears my name, I basically can see things that he sees. I usually just don't care about the goings-on on Gaia because this world is where I belong. However, whereas most souls remain still and peaceful during the journey back to the crystal, yours stirred. You must have a lot of things in mind to make you move in the impossible," Odin said while laughing softly.

"How can you find that funny?" Freya asked indignantly.

"You've impressed me, Freya Crescent, that kind of willpower is what I want to see in a warrior, at least one of the aspects. You certainly have the makings of one, but you aren't there yet," Odin said. "You've yet to figure out the Path of the Warrior"

"The what?" asked a dumbfounded Freya.

"The Path of the Warrior," Odin repeated. "To answer it is to find meaning in being a true warrior. To that, Freya Crescent, I have a proposition for you," he added. The two stopped by a small dock, and Freya turned to face the Allfather. With her attention on him, he said, "If you can determine what makes you a great warrior, I shall grant you passage back to Gaia, alive as the day you were born."

Freya thought about it, her heart racing with excitement. If that was true, she would be able to reunite with Sir Fratley again along with her friends. However, a different thought struck her after the wave of hope died down. "And if I fail to solve it?"

"Well, you try until you do. I will hold up my end of the bargain, but I expect you to prove yourself worthy first. You can also choose to forfeit it and become a denizen of Midgard, there is no shame in that. However, the path back to your world will be shut forever, and you will likely be the first and only Burmecian to ever live here, " Odin answered in a serious tone.

"I would rather return to where I belong," Freya said firmly.

"Good, then work towards it, show me you have what it takes," said Odin with an approving nod. He pulled out an iron sword from his robes and handed it to Freya. "A weapon to get you started."

"I've not fought much with a sword before," Freya said as she took the sword from the Allfather. "Can I use a spear instead?"

"I'm not restricting your weapon of choice, Freya Crescent. I just don't have an extra spear with me," Odin answered with a crooked smile.

Freya narrowed her eyes at him. "You can materialise my clothes for me out of thin air but not a spear?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Odin remarked, his crooked smile never leaving his lips. Freya knew he was likely testing her, so she chose not to ask any further questions about it. The stone path ended by a settlement consisting of three houses, and it was there the two stopped their walk. Turning to the Burmecian, he said, "This is where I leave, I have matters to attend to in Asgard. If you ever need help, my ravens Huginn and Munnin will be in this village to assist you."

"Wait, what should I be doing now?" Freya asked.

Odin ignored her for a bit as he whistled loudly, his tune echoing throughout the valley which seemed to reach for the sky. Seconds later, a horse descended from the rainbow, its gallops thunderous and its neigh mighty that it made the animals in the field look up. Freya too looked up in awe at the approaching horse, but the way it descended made her shudder. When the horse made landfall, she saw that it had eight legs. She had not been dreaming after all, it looked almost exactly like the horse that eidolon Odin rode on. Looking back at the actual god, she was taken aback when she saw that he had looked a lot younger, his beard look neater and shorter, and the clothes he wore was replaced by an armour of leather and steel, and he wore a horned helmet with a piece of metal covering his missing eye.

Odin leapt onto the eight-legged horse and looked at Freya. "Train your strength first, do battle in the nearby plains," he said while pointing somewhere distant with his spear. "There are draugrs roaming about, the dead awoken from their slumber. They have been terrorising the locals for a while. Put them back to rest and find out what's disturbing them," he said in a deep and booming voice.

With that said, the horse rode off into the sky and disappeared over the rainbow after a while. Freya looked at the sword and then at the direction where Odin had pointed at. "Path of the Warrior. What is it with gods and riddles?" she muttered to herself.