Note: Will be busy. No new chapter next week, but after that short week-long hiatus, fic will continue to update at its semi-regularly scheduled time.
Valkyrie Profile:
Lenneth Novelization AU:
Disclaimer: I do not own Valkyrie Profile or any other tri-Ace properties. Please support the official release.
Chapter Nine:
A Guiding Voice
"Alright, everyone's gone. Take as much time as you need. We'll all be outside, dearie."
"Thank you, Lady Lobelia."
"Think nothing of it, Asaka," Lobelia smiled. "We all know you two were very fond of each other. If anyone deserves a moment to say goodbye in private before we bury him, it's you."
Asaka lightly blushed and looked away. Lobelia would have gotten a chuckle from the younger woman's embarrassment under different circumstances. However, with Belenus lying dead at the chancel in a wooden box, there was little humor to be had. Besides which, Lobelia was concerned for Asaka. Dark circles were prominent under the Yamatoese woman's eyes, and she seemed so worn all day.
Lobelia simply stepped back, allowing Asaka to approach the open casket set up before the altar of the chapel. Both women stood in the doorway. While Lobelia remained there, Asaka approached the coffin. Without another word, Lobelia grabbed the door handle, intending to give the woman her privacy.
"Lady Lobelia."
"Yes, Asaka," Lobelia turned to her again.
Asaka had stopped not far away, nervously wringing her folded hands.
"I've already packed my things," she said. "You won't need to bother anyone. We can just stop by the manor, and I will bring my baggage out."
"Dearie, don't worry about that, and you didn't need to pack alone. Goodness, you must have been up half the night…" Lobelia stopped and gave Asaka a concerned look. "Were you unable to sleep?"
Asaka looked away, sad eyes turned toward coffin holding Belenus's body.
"I'm perfectly fine, Milady," Asaka insisted.
Lobelia crossed her arms and gave the maid a stern look.
"When did you turn in last night?" she demanded.
Asaka flinched, and after a moment sighed.
"The sun was just beginning to rise when I finally got some rest. I just could not sleep, Milady," she confessed.
Lobelia sighed. She placed a hand on her cheek as she considered how to proceed from there.
"We can discuss this more later, Asaka. You'll know where to find me. Excuse me."
With that, Lobelia left, and Asaka was alone in the chapel. She slowly walked up to the casket and looked down at the pale face of Belenus. She just stood there, looking him over for what she knew would be last time, memorizing every feature before they were buried forever. Tears she didn't think she could still shed threatened to fall down her face, but she wiped them away.
"Hello, Master Belenus. I don't know if you can still hear me… wherever you ended up, but I want you to know I am well," she spoke softly, as though to prevent curious ears from overhearing.
She leaned in to whisper to him.
"Your cousin Lady Lobelia and her family have hired me on as one of their maids. So, you needn't worry about me. I will be fine, jus-just please…"
Her lips trembled and the tears fell, no longer containable. She fell to her knees beside the coffin, clinging to its side as she began weeping again. She pressed her forehead to the wood.
"Why did you have to die? Why'd you have to leave me?" she whimpered.
"Hmm… What is this? Ugh!"
Lenneth gagged, which abruptly ended her meditation. While trying to find another heroic spirit or threat, she'd suddenly come into contact with something very dark. She's intended to pursue it to pinpoint its location, but instead, it came for her. In her mind's eye, she'd seen a strand of pure dark energy in the form of a filament mingling among the sacred threads of fate, and it suddenly lashed out at her like a whip. When it made contact, it felt like she'd been struck by Thor's hammer. This was followed by an intense sick churning in her stomach and a burning in her throat, like she'd been force fed an acidic poison.
She nearly fell from the air but stopped herself before she tumbled too far. She bobbed up and down erratically a few times before steadying herself again. The Valkyrie hugged herself tightly, gasping for breath. The nausea and pain still wracked her system. Lenneth clapped a hand over her mouth, heaving as though about to vomit, but she never did. Her eyes bulged in near panic at the unpleasant alien sensation and her skin glistered as she began to sweat. A gust of wind chilled her freshly dampened skin and she shivered, curling up while remaining air-bound, waiting for it all to subside.
She hovered in place over where her einherjar practiced below. After many long, deep, and calming breaths, she felt a bit better. She focused on the dark energy that'd invaded her body, intending to excel it. After a good moment of effort, her wings shimmered into partial visibility, except now they appeared to be covered in splotches of ash. Lenneth's body glowed with waves of light and red, and the dark stains on her wings came off, like ash in the breeze.
With the harmful negative energies gone, Lenneth lowered her hand from her mouth, now feeling only remnant queasiness. Her breath was still heavy, and she pressed a fist to her chest. Lenneth's mind reeled as she tried to figure out what had just happened.
"That… That has never, ever happened before during one of my spiritual meditations," confusion and fear ran rampant in her thoughts. "The threads of fate are a sacred part of Yggdrasil, connecting right into its roots. No evil can infect them, and yet…"
She swallowed hard. She had to try again to confirm what she had just experienced. She'd have to open herself up to that dark energy which had tried to infect her. Dread and uncertainty filled her.
"But I must do this," she told herself.
She closed her eyes let out a long breath.
"I must do this," she told herself. "Now, focus."
She tried, but after a moment, she realized she was mentally blocking herself out of sheer nervousness. She grumbled under her breath.
"Oh, stop this at once. You are Lenneth Valkyrie. There is nothing you cannot conquer. You would never allow such weakness in your einherjar, and you will not place lower expectations on yourself. Now, focus."
Somehow, that didn't make her feel more confident. She grinded her teeth almost angrily. She hated feeling this way.
"Oh, stop this nonsense, Lenneth," she reprimanded herself. "You are being silly. Focus."
Determined not to cower against the unfamiliar, she tried again. Lenneth stretched out with her feeling, opening herself up to the threads of fate, albeit very cautiously. She searched around through the noise and feelings of Midgard, looking for that darkness which had reached out to harm her.
There! She found it again. This time, Lenneth's consciousness approached carefully, keeping up her guard as she analyzed the negatively charged string. The image of a thread with frayed ends, as though it had been snapped, came to her.
"Oh, how did this strand of darkness make its way into the threads of fate?" she knew she had to solve this conundrum.
Somehow, the dark thing sensed her and lashed out at her again, but Lenneth mentally pulled back enough to keep her psyche protected. Having lost her, the strand of darkness shook and whipped around all over, as though pained, throwing out waves of harmful, negative energy as it did.
Lenneth grimaced, feeling the backdraft hitting her. It felt like a jolt of electricity coursing through her mind. Then another hit her, and this time, she felt something different in it.
"Wait… What is this? I feel something. I… hear something."
It sounded like a roar, but not any beast she knew of. It slowly faded out and then returned. A long, droning noise, followed by a series of loud splashing noises.
"The ocean?" Lenneth asked.
Another wave hit her, and along with the pain, she received more of the vision. The groan of wood, the cheer of men, and the call of birds filtered in shortly after. And then, a voice came through clearly. It belonged to a young man with a gravelly, cracking voice.
"Anything I say will just make her feel worse."
"This is… a lingering human regret?" Lenneth questioned.
Her mind was then filled with the whistle of wind through the trees, but there was something wrong. It felt foul, somehow. It sounded almost mocking, and Lenneth could have sworn she heard a derisive laugh, but just barely.
"No! That sound! I can't stand it!" a girl's voice shouted. "Stop it! Somebody stop it!"
The girl began weeping uncontrollably. Her sobs faded. A moment later, the girl's voice returned, calmer and controlled this time:
"I'll wait for you, Llewelyn," she cheerfully told someone. "I'll come here and think of this as our special place."
"I won't die," the young man from before, likely Llewelyn, vowed. "I'll come back to you."
Then the vision was over. Lenneth regarded the twisted black strand again.
"I do not know how, but… This is one of the threads of fate. Dark magic has defiled it, but how?"
Now that Lenneth grasped what she was dealing with, the fear began to leave her. She was still connected through her meditation and almost able to see it, writhing about, not maliciously, but…
"In pain," she ascertained. "Somehow, the thread of this soul's life has been infected and corrupted. It… It feels like it is calling out for help. I must attend to this matter."
Lenneth reached out to it, steeling herself as she projected her thoughts to it:
"Thread of Fate, infected by an unknown corruption, show me the source of your suffering."
She felt it coming for her but did not flee this time. It latched onto her. She grimaced from the pain, but having known what to expect, she bore it and continued to concentrate. The infected thread showed her Midgard, from a far-off vantage overlooking that entire realm. Except it was littered with dark spots all over. They were like infected boils in the skin of the land. Wherever these blemishes were, suffering followed. She saw green meadowlands turn barren, warm climates became never-ending winters, and more.
Then, she felt the infected thread pulling her attention toward two specific places. In her mind, Lenneth saw the remains of a wrecked ship out in the ocean. It had sunken in just a shallow enough place its prow still stuck up above the waves where it rested against an underwater rocky slope. Around it were other chunks of wood and bodies floating around, all signs of a sea battle. What Lenneth took notice of most was the ornamental prow head. It was a wooden Valkyrie bust with wings coming out of the shoulders on either side, instead of a traditional dragon head. If it was still above water when she got there, she'd know it on sight. The other place she saw a small burg of wooden houses surrounded by a stone wall just outside of a much larger city. She was then shown the path to both these places.
The infected string of fate released her, and Lenneth's mind was back in the sky. This time, neither pain nor sickness burned her. She was fine, however temporarily weakened from exposure to dark energy. Lenneth's eyes turned to the Northeast, across the Artolian mountains, toward Crell Monferaigne.
"Somewhere in Crell Monferaigne, an evil dwells that can infect the threads of fate," she thought. "This is very concerning. Lord Odin must be informed of this when I next visit Valhalla. We must get going."
It was time to collect the einherjar. She looked down. Below, the three were by the riverbank she had stopped near to meditate. Jelanda was busy anguishing over a levitation spell, lamenting her inability to make some stones take to the air for target practice. Meanwhile, Arngrim and Belenus sparred. Lenneth tried to descend, but instead began to fall.
"Ulp!" she cried out and.
After a moment of careening toward the ground, she caught herself. The Valkyrie sucked in a deep breath, practically feeling her heart pounding against the inside of her chest-plate. She could barely remain in the air and practically had to throw herself into the trunk of a nearby tall tree. The collusion hurt, but it was better than plummeting to the ground. There, she stood on one if its thicker branches, clinging to the trunk's bark for dear life.
"I still feel a bit weak. I need a moment," she unhappily thought. "I'll take a rest to observe my einherjar for a moment while I recover."
After a brief rest, she carefully began to levitate downward, being extra careful to control the decline this time.
"Have at thee!" Belenus shouted.
"Oh, you want more?" Arngrim smirked.
Lenneth landed and watched the sword fighters go at it. Belenus was surprisingly skilled for not having been in any wars. She could tell from his approach that he had been in fights before, but not outright battle. She briefly wondered if these clashes involved some brigand or another having less than savory intentions for that Asaka girl.
While he and Arngrim spared, Belenus knew his slimmer frame and fighting style based on speed over strength could not match the other man's raw power. He relied on swiftness and agility to stay afloat against his much larger opponent.
Lenneth observed as Belenus side-stepped one of Arngrim's thrusts, meeting his claymore from the side and redirecting its momentum. Then he broke contact and tried to score a critical blow. Arngrim just barely blocked with one of his gauntlets and pushed the smaller man back. The former mercenary grinned widely.
"Not bad! Not bad," he congratulated his opponent.
"Thank you," the gentleman answered. "You are quite skilled, Sir Arngrim."
Arngrim grimaced.
"Don't start with that 'Sir' stuff, man," the warrior was visibly put off. "Just Arngrim if it's all the same to you."
Belenus found the man's response most curious.
"Well, Arngrim, I must say I've never seen someone ask not to be referred to by a respectable title," he commented.
Seeing there was going to a pause in the sparring, Arngrim stabbed his sword into the ground and laid his arm on the cross guards, leaning on it.
"I was never part of the knighthood, even if I did work with them often. I was just a mercenary," Arngrim insisted. "I might have done the odd good deed here and there, but I never really counted myself as a hero."
Belenus mulled over this. Curious the Valkyrie would choose him if he were really just a hired blade.
"Fair enough, Arngrim," he said.
He grinned and raised his sword in challenge again.
"Another round?"
"You speak my language, rich boy."
Meanwhile, their young mage groaned, slumping forward with her arms dangling limply at her sides and her bowed. With spellbook in hand, she fell back, taking a seat on a decent-sized rock. She threw her head back and let out a growly moan.
"Oh, why isn't this working? Come on, stupid rocks!" Jelanda pouted.
She set the tome in her lap and pulled at her hair.
"Bad posture for a princess," Lenneth said.
Jelanda looked up and watched the Valkyrie set down on the ground in front of her. The girl cleared her throat, put her knees together, and both hands in her lap.
"Still having difficulties mastering the spell?" the Valkyrie asked.
"Yes, Lady Valkyrie," Jelanda tapped the book dejectedly. "I can shoot fire and lightning, but I can't make a bunch of rocks move?"
Lenneth considered the girl's problem. As Jelanda looked at her, she noticed something off. The battle maiden's face seemed a bit clammy.
"Excuse me, Lady Valkyrie, but are you alright?" she asked.
"Hmm? Why do you ask?" Lenneth deflected.
"Well, you seem a bit… piqued," Jelanda ventured.
"Tis nothing," Lenneth said insistently.
Jelanda tilted her head to the side, unconvinced.
"It really is nothing," Lenneth again insisted.
The silvermaned goddess gestured to Jelanda's spellbook.
"Exactly what are you trying to do when you cast the spell?" she asked.
Jelanda blinked, not being entirely sure what the goddess meant.
"I'm… trying to move the rock, Milady?" she answered uncertainly.
Lenneth knew it was time to switch tactics. She walked over beside Jelanda, situating herself so she was staring at the same stones by the riverbank as the novice mage. She got down on one knee, putting herself about level with the girl's vantage.
"You specifically are only trying to move the small ones?" Lenneth asked.
"Yes, Lady Valkyrie."
"That is part of your problem," the battle maiden explained. "Size and weight do not matter for the levitation spell. You are likening it too much to moving them by hand. You must banish mortal physics from your mind."
Jelanda seemed confused by that.
"Their size and weight don't matter to the spell, Lady Valkyrie?" she tried to wrap her head around that. "But surely more energy would be expended for the big ones."
Lenneth gently grabbed the girl's arms, raising her dainty hands up into view.
"For these, yes," she told the girl. "But not for astral energies used to spellcasting. Secondly, start simple. Try to move just one."
The goddess pointed to just one rock about the size of a watermelon.
"That one," she instructed.
Jelanda nodded. She opened the book, flipping to the page with the spell, and reviewed it one more time. Then she stood, setting the book down on the rock she'd sat on. Jelanda focused on the stone Lenneth had designated while the battle maiden watched. Jelanda meditated and the magics gathered around her. She stretched out the Elemental Scepter horizontally as she began to chant:
"I am she who calls upon the astral threads which move all, to invoke the right to sway the earth and sea. Levitation!"
The rock began to shake back and forth and at one point, did leave the ground only to fall back into its imprint upon the soil. Lenneth watched the girl grunt and strain, trying to move it, but it would not actually float into the air. Sweat dripped down Jelanda's face as she continued to fight with the object she wished to command, but she was quickly exhausting herself.
"Come on, you stupid thing. I order you to move. I am your master now," Jelanda's strained voice was filled with frustrated anger.
This went on for another few minutes before she gave up. Jelanda doubled over and the rock nestled back into its rut.
"I suspected as much," Lenneth thought.
"Sit," she instructed the girl.
Jelanda picked up the spellbook and then obediently took a seat on the rock again, setting the tome on her lap once more. Lenneth stepped up in front of her and hunkered down so they were at eye level. The Artolian girl did not meet the Valkyrie's gaze. Her mouth was firmly closed in a thin, straight line as she stared off to the side, looking disconsolate and embarrassed at being beaten by an inanimate object.
"Human, look at me," Lenneth commanded.
Jelanda's eyes slowly rolled back to the front, meeting the silvermane's deep blues.
"Do you know what you did wrong?" Lenneth asked.
Jelanda slowly shook her head.
"Not really, Lady Valkyrie," she admitted.
"Fortunately, I do," Lenneth answered.
That got the girl's attention.
"You think yourself the rock's master, and you tried to force it to move, but that is not how it works."
Lenneth again moved to her side, so they were both facing the targeted stone. She gestured to it, directing Jelanda's attention.
"When you cast the spell of levitation, you are temporarily joining yourself with the cosmos, essentially making the immovable an extension of your own limbs, giving them motion," the goddess stated. "You must think of the rock as though it were your own fist."
Jelanda seemed confused again.
"But am I not the master of my own limbs?" she asked.
"Only because your body functions correctly," Lenneth answered. "There are people in this world who can mentally command a paralyzed arm to motion as much as they wish, but it will never obey because it cannot. Your mind and your body work together. It is not simply a matter of being its master, but of being connected to it properly. If you establish the connection and work with it, the stone will move. You must give yourself to the magic in order for it to give itself to you in return. You are guiding it, but you are not its master. Try it again."
Lenneth stepped back and let the young mage make another attempt. When Jelanda stood, she stared at the rock a moment before trying again.
"Alright. Working together, not master and servant," Jelanda told herself.
She held out the staff, conjuring the magics once again.
"I am she who calls upon the astral threads which move all, to invoke the right to sway the earth and sea. Levitation!"
The rock at first wobbled where it sat in the earth, and then lifted up easily. Jelanda smiled, letting out a giggle of pure joy. She trained her scepter on it and directed it up into the air. The stone flew out over the water. Jelanda released it, allowing its trajectory to take it will it may, and prepared a second spell.
"Icicle Edge!" she chanted.
From the tip of her staff shot through female figures seemingly made of pure frost, each holding a sword. They chased after the flying stone and caught up with it instantly. Jelanda directed them with her staff, to each strike the stone, one at a time. The first slashed at it, knocking it straight up into the air. The second batted it back in the group's direction, and the third whacked it from above, sending it careening straight down into the water. The smashed into the surface, creating a large, foamy splash that rained water all over for several yards.
Jelanda stared in astonishment at how well that had gone, and then turned to Lenneth in excitement. Forgetting herself, she bounced up and down like a small child.
"Oh, thank you, Lady Valkyrie! And did you see that! I did it! I made it move and then knocked it out the air with another difficult spell! And I…"
She spotted Arngrim and Belenus watching with amused looks in the corner of her eye and stopped. Blushing, Jelanda coughed into her fist, and gave Lenneth a more subdued look of appreciation.
"Thank you, Milady," she mumbled.
Behind the cool exterior, Lenneth was as amused by the girl's antics as the two men.
"Is…" Jelanda started to ask. She was still flushing. "Is that why I was having a hard time mastering magic, because of my mentality."
Lenneth nodded.
"Indeed, child," she responded. "Magic does not belong to you. It has existed for eons before you were born. Before humanity even. It belongs to no single mage. Even if it is your will influencing what form the magic takes and where it goes, you are working with it."
Lenneth looked at the girl curiously, wondering how she had not known this before.
"Who was your teacher in life?"
Jelanda's expression turned dark.
"…Lombart," she spat the name.
"Makes sense he wouldn't teach you right," Arngrim spoke up.
Jelanda silently listened as he continued.
"If you knew how to cast right, you might put up more of a fight," Arngrim said. "He made it easier for himself by telling you wrong."
Belenus quirked a brow.
"There were really no second opinions around?" he asked.
Arngrim shrugged.
"Not really. Not a lot of mages in Artolia since Forkbeard's Mage Artillery Fell at The Battle of Oddrock. The old magic academy got closed down, too, because King Joshua didn't see the value in it. So all our young magic adepts got sent out to Flenceburg."
Belenus was almost too afraid to ask, but he pressed on.
"He could not hire some mages to help protect his country and teach local magic adepts who might not be able to go to Flenceburg's academy?"
"Magic folk cost a lot more money than just hiring mercenaries like me," Arngrim bluntly stated. "Good ol' Joshua, king of Artolia, pincher of oth."
"He-hey! Nobody even knew Lombart was a traitor until that other man you were with told you!" Jelanda protested. "And Lombart was the one who convinced father that mages weren't necessary."
Even as the words left her mouth, Jelanda knew how stupid it sounded.
"If your father had any sense, he'd have seen through that bullshit right away," Arngrim remained firm. "Need I remind you about Forkbeard's Cavalry Smasher unit of battle mages?"
Jelanda sputtered, shouted off random words, waved her scepter around as though to whip him, but never actually touched him. She ultimately could not come up with a rebuttal. She finally just turned on a heel and crossed her arms.
"You common folk will never know what it's like to rule," she said sourly.
"Ugh. Don't be a brat," Arngrim scolded.
Jelanda turned to pout at him briefly before turning away again.
Arngrim shrugged.
"Eh, whatever," he decided to drop it.
Lenneth decided then was a good time to cut in and begin the new mission.
"Attention," Lenneth announced.
The trio of heroic spirits quieted down and listened.
"Today's training is over. I've detected another threat," she said. "We must depart immediately. Come."
"An enemy?" Belenus asked.
"Perhaps," Lenneth answered.
As she rose to the sky, the three einherjar were towed along after her by the invisible strings which bound them to her. While Arngrim and Jelanda were almost used to it, Belenus felt his non-existent heart skip a beat after rising into the air higher than he could survive if he fell. He shut his eyes and reminded himself that he was an einherjar now.
"I'm dead," he told himself.
His eyelids slowly uncovered his narrow eyes and he felt a sense of melancholy.
"Asaka," was his one thought as they took flight above Midgard.
He barely noticed the land passing far below them for a long moment. His fellow einherjar shared a look but decided against saying anything. They passed over the mountains into the eastern side of Nordrick. Down below was Crell Monferaigne, the thriving and bustling power of the Eastern region. The breadth of the Crell Monferaigne capital passed below them until a small burg just outside the city came into view.
Much to their surprise, Lenneth began to descent into the little town. On the way, Arngrim was just able to read the town's name on the sign posted along the main road: "Little Monferaigne."
"This is one of the places the infected thread showed me, but what could be here?" Lenneth pondered.
Lenneth slowed down to about walking speed and flew low over the town.
"Hmm. It is subtle, but there is most certainly something wrong in the air," her sixth sense was being set off, but she didn't know by what. "The air's heavy, like something is putting pressure on this place."
Lenneth examined the town below, hoping to get another clue, but everything seemed normal. The human denizens hustled about as they always did. She felt no especially dark presences, and yet, it just wasn't right.
"What are we looking for?" Arngrim asked.
"I… Know not just yet," Lenneth answered.
"Milady, it looks like crowd's gathered at the east end," Jelanda spoke.
When Lenneth looked, the ex-princess was pointing toward a chapel at the edge of Little Monferaigne. Having no other leads, Lenneth flew them towards it. Once they were a bit closer, they realized it was a funeral procession. Three priests with presided over it, they each wore matching robes and hooded cloaks which they had drawn up over their faces.
A single closed casket was laid upon the ground at the three men's feet and a crowd of people had gathered around, all dressed in black. The priest standing in the middle stepped forward, placing himself close to the coffin.
"Battle-maiden," the priest began. "Please light our day so we may walk the path of courage, so that the spirit shall never be bespoiled. We are gathered here today to honor the memory of young Llewelyn, son of Desmond, who gave his life in service to his king and country."
As they observed, Lenneth heard a sob break out from the crowd as the priest held his customary sermon. A young woman at the front of the crowd with cherry blonde hair tied into pigtails was trying to discreetly sob into her hands, but the sheer intensity of emotion could not be contained.
Lenneth hovered down lower.
"Wha-bu… Lady Valkyrie!" Jelanda protested.
"We are invisible," Lenneth stated bluntly.
"Oh," Jelanda sheepishly uttered. Then coughed, looking away and flushing. "Right."
The young woman at the funeral buried her eyes in a handkerchief.
"Oh, Llewelyn," she choked out.
A couple old enough to be the girl's parents gave her hard looks when she cried the name aloud.
"Llewelyn?" Lenneth thought. "I heard that name in my vision. This girl must be his beloved."
"…alas, the sea claimed his body," the priest said. "But do not despair. Even with his mortal coil lost to us, his spirit endures, guided by the Valkyrie into the hereafter."
"No body? Oh, of course," Lenneth thought, remembering the other vision she was shown.
She looked further eastward. She could feel the call of the other location the infected thread showed her.
"Let's see, Crell Monferaigne's biggest navy harbor is Port Oslo at the mouth of the Nethov River," Lenneth thought. "He was likely sent there if he joined the navy. That would explain why the ship seems to have sank somewhere between the port and Salerno Isle."
She elevated higher, looking out over the town. Nothing had changed, just an inert darkness hanging over the burg, but it seemed strongest here at the precession. Finding the source of the infection in this place would be difficult, unless…
Lenneth looked at the cherry blonde young woman again.
"Could she be…?" No, but it hangs over her heavily," Lenneth observed.
She glanced eastward towards the sea.
"I know I will find more answers there. Perhaps if I tend to the corruption there, first, it might reopen the wound enough on this end for me to cleanse it as well," Lenneth considered her options. "But if I do that…"
She looked at the mourning lover of the boy.
"The festering wound opens, it will be centered on her, she who this Llewelyn loved the most."
As the einherjar watched her, Belenus looked to Arngrim and Jelanda for answers.
"Is this normally how things are with her?" he asked quietly.
Jelanda shook her head.
"The threads of fate have led her right where she needs to go every other time," Arngrim's voice was also low. "This is a first for me."
Jelanda cupped a hand around her mouth and leaned toward Arngrim.
"She seems confused," she whispered.
"I am not confused," Lenneth snapped.
Jelanda squeaked and covered her mouth with both hands as her Lady gave her an irritated glare.
"We head for the ocean," Lenneth said. "This place has become one-half of a two-pronged sickness upon Midgard. A dark aura, almost like a curse, hangs over this Llewelyn they speak of. The other half lies with the wreckage that claimed his life."
"There a reason we're doin' such a run-around, though, Valkyrie?" Arngrim asked.
Lenneth had no intention of telling him she had never had to mend an infected thread of fate before.
"These matters can be very complicated to deal with," she said. "Now, we are off."
As they took the spies again, towns, cities, keeps, and farmland all passed beneath them for a while, but it gradually began to die out, and soon they all noticed a change in the temperature.
"Did it just start getting colder?" Jelanda asked.
"It did," Lenneth answered up ahead of them.
The goddess slowed down a bit, finding this odd. The three looked at her, and then down again. They watched the countryside become less and less green until spots of white began to appear. Then came the snowflakes, falling freshly from the clouds not too far above them.
"What on…?" Lenneth thought.
"The cold I detect is most curious," she said to her einherjar. She looked around as the flakes fell past. "And concerning. I have rarely seen snow in Crell Monferaigne, let alone ever felt such coolness on this side of the mountains."
It was then she detected it. It was a similar contamination in the infected thread of fate from before.
"It feels like Midgard itself is sick here. Have I already found another ailment in reality?" she wondered.
Lenneth looked over her shoulder to speak again.
"I sense a sickness in these lands, causing this unusual weather," she explained. "Tis very similar to the one we currently seek to cure."
"Then I know where we are," Belenus said.
He looked past their Valkyrie as best he could and saw a white landscape ahead of them. The atmosphere continued to grow colder as they headed toward it. Up ahead he saw it, situated several miles to the east of Crell Monferaigne's capital was a perfect circle of glacial white against temperate surrounding terrain. A perfectly round winter storm cloud hung over the area, suspended flawlessly parallel to the snowy lands below it.
Lenneth stopped and simply floated in the air, looking at the mini-arctic circle before her. Her usually stoic face was become a visage of utter confoundment.
"That can't be normal," Jelanda breathed.
"'Tis not. This is the Forest of Woe. Cursed lands," Belenus stated.
Lenneth was beside herself. The glimpse she'd caught of it in her vision did not do the reality justice.
"This… should not be possible, "Lenneth's disbelief was palpable. "An area effecting curse of this magnitude should not be possible on Midgard."
She again remembered the words of the other goddesses back in Valhalla.
"Midgard is dying," Idunn had told her.
"Spatial anomalies tear at the fabric of reality," Sága had also said. "With Yggdrasil falling ill, Ragnarök may be worse than any of us have ever imagined."
And once more, Urd's own warning came back to her:
"A limb that is severed dries up and dies. Yet when sickness is allowed to germinate in one branch, it will spread and infect the whole plant."
The other goddesses had not been jesting, Lenneth realized. Something had to be very wrong on Midgard for all this to be occurring. Lenneth also recalled the goddesses saying something else.
"I've had little luck in finding out why, or even getting assistance," Idunn had ranted. "Hrist certainly could not be bothered to aid my attempts at investigation, either. Worse, all I get from Lord Odin and Lady Freya is a rehearsed 'Worry not, the matter is in hand,' answer, and then nothing ever gets done about it."
"Then just two days ago, Idunn descended to Midgard without permission, guards or attendants to investigate," Lenneth recalled. "The situation truly desperate enough to warrant such a trespass."
The Valkyrie could not wrap her head around any of this.
"Lord Odin and Lady Freya are really ignoring anomalies of this magnitude?" Lenneth wondered how they could. "How can it not worry them that nature is being defiled on such a scale within the mortal plane? And dear sister… Hrist. What can you be thinking by ignoring this?"
Every instinct in Lenneth wanted to put her current mission on hold and solve the riddle of this perfectly round mini-arctic circle. She forcefully tore her eyes from the Forest of Woe, fixing her sights due east.
"This forest will have to wait. That thread called out to me, and I must answer," Lenneth reminded herself.
"We will return," was all she told her einherjar.
"Now, now, Beliza darling. You must calm down."
Count Orlok backed away from the other Vampire Lord fearfully as she stalked toward him, fingernails elongated, and fangs bared. She furiously hissed at him and proceeded to chase him around several pillars.
"Beliza, wait, you must listen!" Orlok begged as he hid behind another pillar. "I have something else in the books."
"Oh, really?" Beliza demanded.
She flew around to the side of the pillar he had been hiding on just to discover he was gone. She hissed angrily and looked around for him.
"The servant girl in Lassen was practically giftwrapped for you, and you allowed Odin's puppet to undo it all!" she screamed.
"Dear Lady, please," Orlok called from somewhere unseen.
Beliza searched for him. He had to still be in the large stone tomb they'd chosen for a rendezvous point. Beliza was surrounded by many great pillars and lavish tombs stone coffins sitting on elevated platforms.
"Don't 'Dear Lady, please,' me!" she bellowed in return.
She scratched the side one of the pillars, cutting a five-fingered claw mark into it as she stomped past.
"What could you possibly offer that is equal to establishing ourselves in Lassen?" she demanded. "With that Lord Belenus's wealth and trading company under our control, we would have had access to endless new blood to convert! A trip down to their slave market every week alone would have yielded a boon for us! And we could have done it without anyone noticing! The perfect arrangement."
She checked around one of the stone coffins, finding nothing again.
"I do have an alternative. I've made a new covenant with a necromancer named Gander," Orlok's voice echoed. "He's offered up at least a half-dozen virgin converts if I established a stronghold in Artolia."
Beliza palmed her face.
"Artolia? Oh, Orlok," she said with the tone of a disappointed parent. "There, of all places? Are you daft?"
"On the contrary," Orlok confidently stepped out from behind a casket that had been elevated higher than the others. "I intend to use it as a means to get back into Lassen. Artolia is weak and disorganized enough that it will be easy enough to put under our control."
"Yes, we will control a kingdom that is poised to be Villnore or Crell Monferaigne's next conquest," Beliza shot back. "Congratulations. I can practically see their Undead Extermination Brigades roaming Artolia's streets until they've chased us out even now."
"Oh, we won't be staying in Artolia. Any number of the nobles there have family in Lassen or goods coming in there regularly" Orlok gleefully explained. "Once I complete our half of the covenant to make a candidate into a new hive chief, we focus on the noble families with dealings in Lassen and use them. It might be a less direct path, my dear, but the ends are the same. We turn the upper class in both territories, buy up the slaves, and our ranks swell right under the noses of the population without all the usual sneaking and skulking about."
Beliza crossed her arms.
"It will take longer," she still didn't happy with it.
"I already have a soul picked out. He's a young Artolian noble. I just need an opportunity to approach him," Orlok promised.
Beliza thought about it a moment longer.
"Alright, I'm listening. Tell me about the new acquisition you have in mind."
"He's an honest soul that cares so deeply about the law, it's part of his name," Orlok chuckled.
"Man, this is a lot of wreckage. It must have been one hell of a ship battle."
Arngrim shielded his eyes from the sun as they surveyed the wreckage before them. Resting against a rock jutting up from the sea was the very ship they sought. There was no mistaking it, even from this distance, Arngrim could see the Valkyrie bust that adorned the head's prow. All around it, the remains of other ships floated in the sea, peppering the scenery all the way to the horizon. From the jagged, splintering pieces, he could tell there had been some major spellcasting done against these ships on both sides.
Beside him on the beach stood Belenus. Jelanda sat under a tree not short distance behind them. Hovering just above the ship on the rock was Lenneth. She was concentrating again, in attempt to location the lost soul, and hopefully, draw out the dark energy from the string of fate.
Lenneth hummed tonelessly as she descended and set foot on the sea stack, standing poised on the little flat peak. Her eyes were on the lapping waves.
"There are several souls which have not passed on haunting this site," she thought. "I sense… anger, aggression, fear, confusion, and…"
"Millia…" a sad voice echoed in the air.
Lenneth's head snapped around, toward a spot farther out at sea.
"…Sorrow," she finished.
She levitated into the air again and hovered over to the spot where she was picking the only tender emotions amid the hateful thoughts and feelings coming from everywhere else. Then, to the surprise of her einherjar watching from the beach, she dropped right into the rolling ocean waters.
"Wha…?" Arngrim's surprise caught his words in his throat.
"…Does she normally do that?" Belenus asked.
Beneath the waves, Lenneth sunk to the ocean floor some twenty or so yards down. She did not need to hold her breath or breathe. Nor did she fear anything awaiting her. Around her, dark specters of fallen sailors circled around, staring with resentment or eagerness. They appeared as shadows beings. She gave them passing glances as she passed downward.
When Lenneth had set foot on the sand at the bottom, she began walking as though still on land, allowing her senses to lead the way. After a few steps, she felt the specters coming up behind her.
"Why do you ignore us, Lady Valkyrie?"
"Choose us…"
"Choose us, we fought for our country."
But she felt only self-serving intentions. Greed, envy, wrath, and lust. She felt her own anger boiling at that last one. It made her think of that man, Lezard, putting her in even worse disposition. Then one of them reached out to touch her.
"Valkyrie, let me show you how a real man can serve you."
She whipped out her sword and spun about, striking the phantom down swiftly. She'd cut him in half, and he screamed at unnaturally high pitch as her purifying energies consumed him and sent him off to Niflheim. His manifested form gleamed in the dark and then dissipated.
The other lost souls growled and snarled as they swarmed in on her. Lenneth made short work of most of them with her impeccable sword work. She ducked, leaning far to the side to avoid one and then shot back up, stabbing the next one through the chest. It was in turn purified as well.
"Come to me, Dark Warriors!" she commanded. "Battle has begun!"
Her wings shimmered and her einherjar flow out at high velocity, as though fired. Arngrim grabbed the first lost soul he came into contact with by the throat and then hurled him into the others. Then he began cutting down everything in his path as he drifted through the water. One tried to get him from behind, but Arngrim flipped his sword into a reversed grip and stabbed straight back, getting the specter through the face.
"Not a chance!" he cackled. Then he realized: "Heh! I can talk underwater in this form!"
"Feel me wrath," Belenus bellowed.
He slashed through one specter, scattering its soul particles everywhere as he floated above the ocean floor. He found it surprisingly easy to twist and turn around to cleave the attacking dark souls, not at all like swimming when he was alive.
"Oh, geez, uh! Uh! Mystic Cross!"
The cross-shaped bolts of holy energy shot out of Jelanda's scepter, blasting several lost souls. They screamed as they were burned by the touch of the light. All the while, Lenneth had not stopped hacking, cutting, and rending the the mob apart, forcibly sending them into the afterlife. As soon as she had an opening, the Valkyrie held up her hand, drawing all the scattered soul energies of her einherjars' downed foes. She gathered them as an orb in her hand. It looked like a swirling mass of ink.
Lenneth stabbed her sword into the ocean sand, gripping the mass of angry souls in both hands. They shouted, cried, and cursed, trying to break free, but she held them firm.
"Tortured souls of warriors fallen," she chanted.
Purifying energy flowed from her hands into the orb of souls, and at first their struggling intensified. Their howls of pain cut through even the ocean waters that submerged them. Jelanda clapped her hands over her ears, unable to bear it.
"I release you from your torment," Lenneth intoned. "Pass on, and rest."
The orb began to glow as the darkness drained out and became a more healthy-looking light blue. Lenneth held it up and the souls scattered and disappeared from Midgard, passing on. She watched them go.
"That must have been at least twenty souls in all," she thought. "I'm not surprised, we are near the source."
"Millia…" she again heard someone sob. "Millia…"
Lenneth's eyes followed the source of the wails to a thicket of tall of seaweed. With her second sight, she could see the tendrils of darkness emanating up from the other side. The voice sounded like it was coming from there.
"Found you," she said.
Lenneth floated through the little jungle of tangle until she found a little barren valley of sand with a single large rock at the bottom. On it sat the lost soul of a young man in his late teens. Although his form was darkened with dark energy, his features were still somewhat visible. Lenneth could see he had short cut blonde hair, and he was dressed in earthy tones, mostly browns and grays. His only weapon was a bow and quiver he wore on his back. He sat curled up with his legs drawn up against his body and his arms wrapped around him. He wept into his knees. More importantly, the black tendrils were emanating from him, spreading out into the sea.
Surrounding him were the souls of his fellow fallen soldiers. They had become the same black specters Lenneth and her einherjar fended off moments earlier. They circled around and jeered Llewelyn, swimming in the inky black strands of corrosive negative energy, drawn in and corrupted by it.
Lenneth looked around to begin noting what other ill effects this might have. Most of the plant life floated dead around him. The fish looked sick or warped, like they were mutating. Unnatural bumps were forming on her bodies, and some even looked like they'd been burned, somehow. Some of them were behaving erratically, swimming around violently and biting the other fish. Others glided through the water as though spurred on by something, bumping into objects in a blind fear, or mad rage.
She returned her attention to Llewelyn and the specters. She looked on him with her second sight and saw the infected thread of fate was his own.
"But what is the source of the contamination? Him, or the thread?" Lenneth asked.
One of the wraiths floated in and grabbed Llewelyn by the shoulders.
"What a weakling. Can't even swim," he mocked. "And you thought you deserved her?"
Another swam right up into the youth's face.
"I failed to catch you on purpose, Llewelyn, so I could have her," he snarled. "Didn't count on joining you at the bottom like this. Oh, well, guess this means we get to spend a long, long time together."
Llewelyn, however, didn't seem to hear them. Yet their taunts seemed to have an effect, as his soul gradually grew darker.
He let his legs fall over the side of the rock and he sat, looking utterly dazed and unaware as his former comrades closed in and shouted terrible things at him.
"Wait, their feeding on each others' negative emotions," understanding came over Lenneth. "I better end this before he is completely consumed."
It was reaching a climax as Llewelyn's former comrades circled around him more and more intensely, their raised voices becoming distorted.
"Weakling!"; "You couldn't take a single enemy on!"; "You thought you'd return with honor!"; "You don't deserve her!"; "You dragged us down during that last battle!"
"Enough!" Lenneth shouted.
The spirits didn't hear her, and that was fine by the battle goddess bearing down on them. She jumped into their midst, standing before Llewelyn. She raised her arm as far above her head as she could with her palm facing upwards. A vortex of cleansing energy spread out into the crowd of angry spirits. They shrieked and writhed as they attempted to withdraw from her, but they stopped and were whipped back toward the Valkyrie as though reaching the end of a leash.
Lenneth's brows furrowed she watched the whiplash. She looked down at Llewelyn, still so completely lost in his misery that he didn't notice any of what happened around him.
"Their mutual suffering also binds them," Lenneth knew what had to be done. She glanced back up at the angry specters, who definitely now saw her. "To untether them, I must break the corruption's hold on Llewelyn."
"To me, my einherjar!" she called.
"Mystic Cross!"
The dark souls had come within inches from reaching Lenneth before being pelted with the holy spell. It dispelled many of them and wounded the rest. Arngrim and Belenus both leapt from the gulfweed, slicing up the nearest dark spirits to them, breaking them apart, though they were already reforming. This gave Lenneth a moment to work with Llewelyn, and she intended to make the most of it as she put him at the center of her attention.
She cupped his chin in her hands, bearing the sting of touching his darkness infected skin, and tilted his face up towards her. Uncomprehending eyes stared not at her, but through her, toward the girl who haunted his fevered mind.
"Millia… where are you?" he murmured.
"Wake up, human," Lenneth commanded.
She touched the tip of her finger to his forehead, and it began glowing as she reached into his consciousness, pushing through the darkness clouding his mind and heart to drag him back to lucidity. As she searched his psyche with her senses, his story began to unfold in full.
She saw herself peering through his point of viewpoint in a memory, running on a narrow trail through the woods until he came to a near perfect circle of Scots Pine trees. A figure was already waiting for him among them, leaning against one.
"'Tis the girl who wept for him so from the funeral. So, you are Millia," Lenneth recognized her pretty quickly.
The cherry blonde wore a white blouse with red ribbon tied in a bow at the collar. Her long blue skirt covered her legs, stopping just shy of her black turnshoes. Lenneth could tell they were new because the leather still shined. Her arms were folded behind her back as she leaned, waiting for Llewelyn.
The boy tore into the circle, almost out of breath. Millia stepped away from the tree, smiling at him as he approached. Llewelyn stopped about a pace across from her and leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. This elicited a giggle from Millia, which she tried to stifle with her fingers.
"Goodness, you needn't run the whole way just to see me," she said.
"I… (gasp) Didn't want… (wheeze) you to wait… too long," he answered between gulps of air.
He panted a few more times before straightened up and brushing out the wrinkles in his clothes.
"Were you waiting?" he asked.
Millia just smiled.
"I don't mind. I love this place," she said.
A gust of air blow past above them, making the leaves and branch rustle together. Millia looked up, contented.
"I love to just stand here and listen to the leaves rustle," she stated happily. "When the wind blows just right, it reminds me of the waves lapping on the shore."
Llewelyn thought about it a moment, and then looked up at as well when another gust blew through.
"I hadn't thought about it before," he admitted. "I guess I know what they mean now by a 'sea of trees', huh?"
He gave a small smile at his own joke, hoping it'd also amuse Millia. She giggled softly again, although neither Llewelyn at the time, nor Lenneth watching through his perspective, could tell if she was just indulging him.
"That's why I wanted you to come here," she said. "To enjoy it with me. And…"
She trailed off. She expression turned solemn, and she turned away from him.
Llewelyn looked at her curiously.
"Something wrong?" his voice cracked as he spoke.
He reached out and gently grabbed her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. He leaned in and tried to look at her face from the side to better gauge the matter.
"You're going to sea, aren't you?" she asked with her gaze still down at her shoes.
She wrung her hands fretfully. She turned around, facing him again, almost timidly meeting his gaze. Llewelyn's hands returned to her shoulders, as though he were afraid to let go.
"You are going to out to sea, aren't you?" she repeated. "As a… soldier? You're going to war."
Llewelyn sighed, breaking eye contact with her. He screwed his mouth to the side as he considered what to say.
"So you knew before I had chance to tell you in person?" he muttered.
Millia laughed humorlessly.
"Mother and father were practically rejoicing over it," she said bitterly. "'That commoner who dared to ask our Millia to wed him is going away. He'll die and we'll be rid of him for good,' they said."
Llewelyn flinched at that, and yet Millia wasn't done yet.
"Mother told me to forget you, and take Lord Gisborne up on his offer," she explained.
Then Millia waited intently for what Llewelyn had to say to that. The puberty-addled teen however, had nothing to counter this claim. He stared almost dumbly at her, awkwardly scratching the back of his head just trying to process this motherload his beloved had dropped in his arms.
"They just refuse to respect this," Millia prompted, and held up the engagement Llewelyn himself had forged with the help of the smithy.
It was nothing special. Just a featureless gold band because he couldn't afford precious stones, nor was able to find any otherwise. He wore a matching plain gold band on his own ring finger, indicating their future marital bond. Llewelyn could still remember how Millia's parents had scoffed at the sight of the rings.
"Listen, peasant, our daughter deserves only the best. Something you will never be able to give her."
"Oh, stop it, mother! I love it, Llewelyn," Millia hadn't hesitated to jump in and accept his proposal, much to the chagrin of her forebearers.
Llewelyn and Millia at the time were so happy. Though her parents could scowl and carry on, there were no actual laws in Crell Monferaigne forbidding the union of a noble and a commoner. As a country, the nation was more interested in militaristic and religious zeal than separation of the classes. The devout and brave were rewarded, which left a meek boy like Llewelyn in an odd place, meeting only half the criteria by his own reckoning.
"There's no guarantee I'll even come back from the war," Llewelyn finally spoke.
Hesitation filled Millia's eyes, but she remained silent, letting her fiancé speak for himself.
"So, maybe they're right," Llewelyn went on, hating himself for saying it. "You'll be well taken of by Lord Gisborne."
He looked away in shame.
"Don't say that!' Millia cried.
She gingerly cupped his cheek in her hand and turned his head to face her again.
"I will wait for you. Forever, if I must," she vowed.
"Don't…" He started, but Millia cut him off.
"There's another reason I wanted to you to see this," she gestured around at the circle of pines. "When I come here, I feel closer to you."
"Is that because I'm a hunter?" Llewelyn wondered.
"But not just that," Millia affirmed. "It's more than that. I feel like you're here. Together with me, even when you're not."
"Millia," Llewelyn was touched by her words.
He leaned in close, wrapping one of his arms around her back, closing the distance between them. Their bodies were almost touching. He lovingly touched her face as they stared into each other's eyes. She closed her eyes, waiting for the kiss, which Llewelyn gave. He timidly leaned and softly pressed his lips to hers'. The couple stood in silence for a moment. It was broken by a perfect gust of wind rustled the leaves, creating the sound of the ocean as if to serenade them.
Llewelyn leaned back, breaking the off kiss.
"Alright," he said, and smiled tenderly. "I promise I won't die. I'll come back to you. Wait for me."
Millia pressed herself to him, grabbing him in a tight hug. He returned the embrace, pushing aside the doubts which had left him fuddled a mere moment ago.
"I have to come back for her," he promised himself.
"I will wait for you," Millia repeated.
"And when I return, we'll get married," Llewelyn declared.
Millia smiled, looking at him in contentment. Then her eye happened to wonder a moment, and she saw something white on the ground beside one of the Scots pines. A second look wielded it was a flower, and an important.
"Oh, Llewelyn, look!" Millia pointed.
"Hmm?" Llewelyn broke the embrace to turn around, following where she directed his gaze.
Millia skipped past him, crouching to pick the flower. Then she stood and returned to him, holding the small white plant. Llewelyn's head tilted in surprise when he saw it.
"That's… Edelweiss," he breathlessly stated.
He would recognize the cluster of about seven flower heads and the lance-like wooly leaves anywhere. Their formation always reminded him of the stars above.
"These little guys are only supposed to grow in the mountains," Llewelyn said. He looked right at the flower and said, "What are you doing all the way down here, little guy?"
"Perhaps it came because you need it," Millia chirped.
Llewelyn blinked, uncertain of what she meant.
"I need it?" he asked.
"Yes," Millia responded. "Do you know what the edelweiss means?"
"Mm?" Llewelyn pursed his mouth from side to side as he thought. "Well, they're good in medicine."
"Ugh, men," Millia rolled her eyes.
She leaned in close to him with a playful smile.
"The edelweiss symbolizes love, devotion, and protection to the people who mean the most to you."
She gently grabbed one of his hands, placed the flower in his fingers, and then closed them around the stem.
"Wait, what is this?" Lenneth felt something emitting from the flower. "This is… Lofn's blessing."
"It will bring you home to me," Millia told him sweetly. "So, keep it with you."
"Thank you, Millia," Llewelyn was again touched by the gesture.
He looked down at the flower and flushed."
"But I'm the one that's supposed to bring flowers to you," Llewelyn awkwardly replied.
Millia snorted.
"Oh, pishposh," she laughed enduringly. "Bring me one when you come back, and we'll call it even."
"I don't think relationships work that way, but alright. I will," Llewelyn answered.
Then the boy and girl began laughing together, unable to contain the emotion.
As the scene faded into darkness, Lenneth was beside herself watching as it faded, so shocked by realizing the goddess of marriage and forbidden loves had given them her blessing.
"But why did he die, then?" she asked. "This could not have been his intended fate. I must look deeper."
She pressed on, looking for more answers in his psyche. Soon, another vision came into focus.
"We should see plenty of action soon, boys," a unfamiliar man's voice echoed in her mind.
From the darkness Lenneth saw only a blur of colors at first before the images came into sharp focus.
She saw from Llewelyn's perspective again, him and some other young men sitting around in a circle on the main deck of a ship, nestled off to the side along the railing out of everyone's way.
"What do you guys know about the battle-maiden?" she heard Llewelyn's gravelly, cracking voice.
"The Valkyrie?" one of the other young recruits asked. "Just that she chooses brave souls to be warriors for Odin's army in Valhalla. Why do you ask?"
"Oh, because she's supposed to be watching over our battles, right?" Llewelyn asked.
"Yeah," the other man replied. "So what?"
"It's just that the holy texts back home barely have anything about her," Llewelyn said. "They have plenty about the other gods. There was a whole section dedicated to the story of The Helper. It tells you everything, even which side of his head Thor whacked with his hammer. There's also a bunch about Skadi, a giantess, for Frei's sake."
One of the other young sailors chuckled.
"My favorite part was how Loki got her to forgive Odin," he said.
He, Llewelyn, and the other men all burst into hearty laughter.
Lenneth, who had been present when Loki decided public nudity and tying his genitals to a goat's leash were the best way to amuse an angry giantess, suppressed a moan.
"That was more of Loki than I had ever wanted to see," she thought.
"Anyway, Llew," said a young man with blonde hair and a red bandanna. "You shouldn't speak of the Valkyrie watching our battles. Not with a gal waiting at home for you."
"You're right. Millia would fret if she heard me talking about the Valkyrie," Llewelyn conceded.
His own laugh was cut short when a wave rocked the ship. The boy grabbed hold of the rail, whimpering nervously. This got another laugh out of his peers.
"Man, of all divisions of the military to join, why the navy?" red bandanna asked. "You're afraid of water."
"Ju-just conquering my fears!" Llewelyn answered. "I gotta be brave, for Millia."
Red Bandanna smirked and nodded, accepting the answer. Then he pumped his fist into the air.
"May the Fates guide us!"
Llewelyn and the other lads did the same, also repeating "May the Fates guide us!" exuberantly. Llewelyn then felt for his breast pocket and pulled out his official papers. He opened them, and inside was the pressed edelweiss. He'd kept it with him as promised.
The vision then shifted to another time, later on. Lenneth saw their whole fleet burning, and their enemy closing in.
"Bowmen! Cover the longboats!" their captain shouted.
Llewelyn and the other archers ran into position, standing alongside the railing and taking aim. A second row of archers came in behind them, also ready to loose their arrows on the enemy.
"Fire!"
Llewelyn's front rank fired first, and then they dropped to their knees, grabbing another arrow while the second row's darts flew over their heads. Below, the other surviving men were boarding the longboats and starting to row away under the cover of their comrades arrows.
Many enemy soldiers on the other vessel slumped over onto the deck or fell overboard after being hit. The front rank stood again and fired on them. Llewelyn himself saw one of his own arrows strike a man dead in the face. He and the others dropped to their knees again, and like clockwork, more projectiles sailed over them.
"Retreat!" their captain then ordered. "Tis our turn to disembark! Now!"
The archers backed up, heading to the other side of the main deck where more longboats were waiting, but they did not turn their backs on the enemy vessel. They even continued to fire as they backed away, unwilling to let up the pressure until they were off the ship.
"Board, now!" a man right behind Llewelyn barked.
The blonde youth glanced to his side, grabbed a rope and stepped over the side to board the longboat.
Then the vision began to distort like it was canvas being crumpled. Lenneth felt a sickly cold set in. The image of Llewelyn's thread of fate reappeared in her mind. She saw it in its original, pristine form, like white pearl in string form. A tear in reality ripped wide open next to it within the roots of Yggdrasil, spilling a terrible black miasma in which began corroding several threads. Lenneth watched as each filament of Llewelyn's thread began to break, one by one, until it finally snapped in half prematurely.
Before the other infected threads could also snap, she felt something forcibly close the dimensional tear, and the eroding murk was gone. She then saw the three Norns rush over and begin mending the other threads, and then the scene vanished. The image of Llewelyn attempting to board the long boat returned.
With no evident cause, the water shook the ship violently, tipping the burning vessel far to the side causing Llewelyn to lose his grip and footing. He was cast into the fierce sea and dragged under by the current with many of his comrades. He thrashed and he fought beneath the waves to no avail. He strength failed him as his lungs filled with water. He convulsed violently in utter agony as he drowned, and then he went limp, dragged to the bottom by the weight of his armor and clothes.
"As I thought," Lenneth said. "This was not his intended fate. Lofn's blessing upon his union with Millia proved it. This is one of those spatial anomalies Sága warned me of."
Something else came to her then. She saw the intended life of this boy. He was to return some years later, having helped secure the eastern waters for lawful trade. He would have been a man when, with facial hair beginning to take root on his upper lip and chin. Then all the years that would never be passed her. The wedding of Llewelyn and Millia, their first pregnancy, and the six more to follow. She saw a home that was meant to be filled with cheer and laughter from the family which would have dwelt in it. And finally, she witnessed an old and dying Llewelyn on his deathbed, surrounding by his wife, their grown children, and a sizable mob of grandchildren, tearfully bidding him farewell. His blonde hair had gone white, and he would have had a matching beard and mustache on his now frail face. Then it faded. Never to be.
Lenneth was back beneath the water. Only a second had passed in real time, and that was all it had taken for her to learn his story and subverted life. She also sensed something else.
"His soul has not been sullied yet. Just his mind and emotions," Lenneth noted.
She heard the dark souls screaming all around her. Her einherjar struggled against them, but there were so many, and they were breaking through.
"Their onslaught will never end, either" Lenneth knew it just looking at them. "And even if we purify all of these, the root cause remains. The distortion hanging over this young human will bring more angry spirits to replace these."
"Millia…" he again moaned.
His rational mind had still not been restored.
"He is never going to stop calling her. He may even go mad and return home as a Revenant if I fail to act now, but can I heal a boy without a fate?" Lenneth puzzled.
Whether it was a genuine moment of brilliance or pure desperation, a thought occurred to her.
"I must give him a new fate. The only fate a Chooser of the Heroic Slain can give him."
Lenneth cupped his cheeks in her hands and his soul began to glow with cleansing light. In a moment, the haze cleared from his eyes and Llewelyn let out a bloodcurdling scream as the evil imbedded within him was siphoned out very painfully. His physical form began to vanish as the entirety of his essence was drawn into Lenneth's grip. He fought and pulled against her, but Lenneth held him firm.
The two struggled against each other for a moment. Around them, the other spirits began to writhe and screech as well. Their dark hands gripped the sides of their heads as they felt their connection to Llewelyn severe. Arngrim, Jelanda, and Belenus watched them with varying degrees of pity and concern.
With one more effort, Lenneth finally pulled Llewelyn fully into her grasp and he became an orb in the palm of her hands. She examined the youth's soul for a moment and allowed herself a smile. He was finally calm and free from the pain. She felt the corruption beginning to lift as well.
"He is purified," she said.
She brought the orb to her beast, absorbing him into herself as she had the others. Her wings shimmered as Llewelyn emerged from them, translucent but quickly becoming solid.
Llewelyn blinked dumbly, staring at the ocean floor around him a moment.
"Huh? Ah!" he cried out and clamped his hands over his mouth.
Then something began shining behind him, casting his shadow long against the sandy ocean floor. He turned and saw the Valkyrie he'd been curious about not long ago standing facing away from him, her body gleaming in the water. Lenneth stood with her arms raised over her hand, forming a great spear in her hands.
Llewelyn looked around, taking in the scene. Other warriors were fighting beneath the waves as though they were on land, dark specters screaming and thrashing about, and finally…
"Wait, why am I not drowning?" he asked.
In fact, he was just fine without air at all.
"I must already be… dead," the dire thought hit him like a rock.
He saw something resting against the rock beside the goddess. Right away, Llewelyn recognized his own sea-rotted, bloated corpse. He stumbled back, horror and repulsion overtaking.
"No. No!" he cried.
Lenneth drew back the great spear, training it on the clustered dark souls.
"It shall be engraved upon your souls!" she chanted. "Divine Assault…!"
She hurled the javelin into their midst.
"Nibelung Valesti!"
It struck with a thunderous explosion, filling the ocean waters with cleansing energy. In an instant, the darkness infesting the specters was washed away, and they were but lingering souls once more. Llewelyn immediately recognized them.
"My brothers-in-arms," he whispered mournfully. "Oh, what's become of all you?"
Lenneth held up her hands, gathering them to her. She held the orb of clustered souls like before. Llewelyn watched in almost fascinated dismay.
"Rest," she told them.
Then they vanished, passing on from the mortal realm.
Llewelyn didn't know what to expect now. When the Valkyrie turned around to face him, he took an instinctive step back. He momentarily forgot himself, too shocked to think or react as his young mind tried to digest what was happening.
The three warriors she had with her gathered around behind her. The large, scarred man seemed to be sizing him up, while the fairer looking fellow regarded him less aggressively. The girl, a blonde with long curly hair who seemed younger than himself just looked curious.
"Human," Lenneth addressed him.
That drew Llewelyn out of his stupor, and he berated himself for failing the proper conduct in front of one of the gods. He bent the knee before Lenneth, bowing his head low.
"G-Greetings, Lady Valkyrie," he said nervously. "If you don't mind me asking…"
Llewelyn looked up to face her again.
"What is going on?" he asked pitifully. "I remember… we were sent out to secure Isle Salerno from Flenceburg. I think we…"
The memories of the battle were still fuzzy in his mind, but some of it was coming back to him.
"I died," he stated in a frail voice. "We all died. The other side had Mages. They set our ships on fire. That's me lying right there, right?"
He gestured to the bloated corpse beside the rock.
"Yes, you have passed beyond your mortal coil, human," Lenneth answered plainly.
Even though he'd seen that with his own eyes, it still seemed unreal.
"But me, Milady?" he asked. "I doubt that I did… much."
"I did choose you, though," Lenneth said.
"Begging a thousand pardons, Lady Valkyrie," he said. "I don't have nearly the skill or bravery you need."
"I do not choose any of my einherjar lightly, human," Lenneth firmly countered. "I have chosen you, and that is that. Now, rise."
He obediently got to his feet.
"Well…" he stammered and cleared his throat. He puffed up and stood at attention, trying to make himself seem fiercer than he was. "Then, Llewelyn Desmondson, at your service, Lady Valkyrie."
He sounded far less confident than he'd have liked, and he knew it. He just hoped he didn't look ridiculous puffing himself up. At least the Valkyrie before him wasn't laughing at him, so there was that.
"I'm sorry, Millia," he silently apologized. "I couldn't keep my promise. I've died and left you alone. Now I have to serve the Valkyrie. Oh, can I really do this? What do I do without you, Millia?"
Lenneth noticed his disquiet, and then sensed the darkness welling up back in his hometown. He glanced back in its general direction.
"As I thought, rooting it out on this end agitated the infection back in that little town. I may be able to settle the matter and bring peace to his spirit all at once," she thought.
"Come, my einherjar. There is one more matter to sort," she ordered, while looking right at Llewelyn.
"W-where are we going?" Llewelyn asked. Then 'ulped' when he remembered proper etiquette. "Er, where are we going, Lady Valkyrie, I mean!"
Arngrim half-grinned in amusement.
"Back to your home," Lenneth answered. "A lingering darkness infests it, and you may be needed to lift it."
"What? What kind of darkness?" he asked, but quickly added, "Lady Valkyrie."
"I will explain on the way," the goddess said. "But first…"
Millia remembered first receiving the news all too well.
She retreated into her room and sat alone, crying, on the edge of her bed. Her folded hands both grabbed handfuls of her skirt as the tears ran down her face.
"How horrible," she'd thought.
She had remembered the bravado of the recruitment officers who had taken Llewelyn and so many other young men from their town and the Crell Monferaigne capital to go fight.
"They said we couldn't lose this war," she mumbled.
She wiped away her tears with her fingers. She uncontrollably hiccupped and buried her face in her hands as the shock gave way to grief.
Now Millia found herself trekking the familiar trail to the circle of Scots pines, her favorite place.
"My… no, our special place. Our secret," she thought melancholically.
Except now her strides lacked their usual life. Her eyes were red after shedding many more tears, and had gone dull, devoid of their spark. Her arms hung limply at her sides as she shuffled through the dirt path, almost like she was in a trance. The funeral had ended an hour ago, and this was the first chance she'd had to sneak away from the fake condolences of their relatives.
Her jaw tightened, the only real sign she was still alive and not some animated corpse.
"You all sicken me," she spat the words so hatefully. "You think of my dear Llewelyn's passing as an obstacle being removed. Damn you all. The nerve of them, not even allowing me time to grieve."
"Now, then, my dear, I would like to arrange that marriage to Lord Gisbo…"
"WHAT? HOW DARE YOU! His wake hasn't yet ended! I know you hated him, but he was my beloved!"
"Dear, that's not…"
"No! It is! I don't even matter enough to you to be given time to mourn him properly!"
"Millia, you come back here this instant!"
"I will not! Do not follow me! I will not speak of this again with you. Not now. Not ever!"
"Millia!"
"Leave! Me! Alone!"
"Of course, I'm just a bargaining chip for them. Why should I have ever thought otherwise," she bitterly said.
She looked up, and for a flickering moment, her eyes light up. The circle of trees was up ahead. She'd find some measure of solace among them, even if it were only in the memories of the boy she loved.
"Llewelyn," she said, hoping that somehow her words would still reach him. "I came to talk to you. We've only barely buried your empty casket and mother already wants to marry me off."
Her pace quickened. Her good shoes thudded against the earth and brush until she found herself in the canopy of pines.
"I rebuked her, of course," she said. "I will never marry another."
She stopped, standing among them for a moment waiting for the wind to rustle the leaves. When it did, she started to smile despite it all and took a deep breath, which became caught in her throat. She tensed up, looking around like a hunted animal, wrapping herself in her arms as though cold. Any semblance of joy she sought was gone. The leaves didn't rustle, they violently shook and scratched against each other. The branches they were attached to were like long, twisted fingers reaching for her.
"No!" she cried. "The noise… it's all wrong!"
Another forceful blast of wind shook the trees so much it looked as though they were trying to break free from the ground and walk away. The sounds they produced were nothing like the gentle rustling that had always come before. Something about it was beginning to make Millia's head ache, and she rubbed her temples in an attempt to relieve the pain.
"Something's wrong. What?" Millia's fevered mind ranted. "What is this? Stop! Somebody, just please, stop it!"
She fell onto her knees, clutching the pain in her head worsened.
"He's dead…"
"An empty coffin…" she sobbed, leaning forward far enough she almost fell forward. "I can't believe you're really gone."
"You're all alone… forever…"
"What was that?" Millia jerked up.
She looked around frantically.
"Wa… was that a voice just now?" she fearfully asked outloud. "Hello, is anyone there?"
Millia was suddenly so, so overwhelmingly uncomfortable. Her breathing became ragged as she brought her hands to her face.
"I don't see anyone," she thought. "Everything looks the same as it always does, but something's wrong."
She was rooted in place, afraid to move. What if trying to flee would provoke something into chasing her?
"I can't place it, but this place has become rotten!" another frenzied thought.
She weakly climbed to her feet and stumbled into the nearest tree, leaning into it with her hands pressed into the bark. Wide, scared eyes stared at nothing as she tried to find sense in the confusion.
"Rotten, rotten, rotten!" she cried.
Hanging onto her shoulder, completely unseen, was a vague entity made up of black miasma. It looked like nothing but black smoke clinging to her back. From it, the dark whispers that went almost unheard came, choking Millia's mind with despair. The air grew very tight around Millia, and she found it harder to breathe.
"End it. End it all," it whispered in a voice that denoted no gender.
"You're sure about this… Lady Valkyrie?"
Lenneth glanced back at him.
"'Sure about what?" she asked.
"How can I help Millia? What can I do against… corrupted fate? You're a goddess. I'm just a human. I just don't understand," he said weakly.
Lenneth sighed and stopped them a short distance outside of Little Monferaigne. She turned to gave her newest recruit a hard look which made him cower.
"Human," her tone matched her stern expression. "Of all those you have ever known, your beloved is the most strongly tied to you through your thread of fate, which has been corrupted. She will be next. It will be her mind drowned in an unnatural depression now. She will be so drowned in her sorrows, she won't even notice the world around her, just like you were."
Llewelyn's face fell as it dawned on him what was at stake.
"Will you hesitate to help her?" Lenneth demanded.
"No… No!" Llewelyn insisted.
He held up his hands helplessly as he tried to express on what he attempting to relay.
"But what can I do? Lady Valkyrie," he asked. "I don't know anything about cleansing ceremonies, or how fate works."
"You may be able to reach her," Lenneth answered.
Belenus put a hand on Llewelyn's shoulder in attempt to comfort him.
"Fear not, young man," the Lassen noble said. "I, too, had a tussle with Fate, and Lady Valkyrie was able to set things right for me as well."
"Really?" Llewelyn sounded hopeful.
Belenus nodded. "Yes, you need only follow her lead. We will save your beloved Millia yet."
With that, Lenneth turned and fired off through the sky pulling them along at full speed. With her senses, Lenneth was able to retrace Millia's footsteps. The now active dark aura was strong and unmistakable.
Lenneth dipped into the forest, weaving her way through the trees like a bird. Llewelyn cried out when he saw he was heading right for a tree and covered his face with his forearms, but then he passed through it. He looked around in confusion and noticed himself and the other three einherjar harmlessly passing through solid objects while being pulled along by their Valkyrie.
As the woods thinned for out for a bit, Llewelyn spotted the circle of Scots pines.
"There!" he pointed. "That's our secret place!"
Lenneth slowed down as she veered towards it. She also recognized it from her visions. At the same time, she and Llewelyn spotted Millia standing with her back turned to them in the middle of the circle.
"There she is. Millia!" Llewelyn shouted.
Once they were close, Lenneth slowed down and set down on them all on the ground. She was flanked by Arngrim and Belenus with Jelanda bringing up the rear. Llewelyn took off in a dead sprint past them to cross the few final yards to Millia. Arngrim and Belenus exchanged uneasy looks. Neither man liked how she seemed to be positioned like bait.
"Wait!" Lenneth ordered Llewelyn.
The boy obeyed, stopped about ten feet from her. He glanced at Lenneth, questions in his gaze.
"But Millia…" he protested.
"I told you to wait," Lenneth sternly spoke.
"Listen to her, kid. Somethin' ain't right," Arngrim said.
He pulled Llewelyn back a bit.
"Why's the air so tight?" Jelanda asked.
Lenneth sensed it, too, but unlike her einherjar, could already see the fiend at work on the girl. With her second sight, she saw the shapeless entity digging into her. Despite all the commotion happening behind her, Millia hadn't moved. She didn't even seem to hear them.
Lenneth slowly approached the girl, stopping when she stood beside Llewelyn.
"What's happening?" he asked.
"A dark entity has…"
"Llewelyn," Millia suddenly spoke.
Her voice was hushed and sounded like she had just been weeping. She reached up gripped the sides of her head, the nails digging into her hair.
Llewelyn gulped, and then made himself smile.
"Yes, Millia, I'm here," he said. He took a step toward her. I'm…"
Lenneth grabbed his upper arm, stopping him.
"Do not approach her," she ordered.
Llewelyn looked between his love and the Valkyrie but stayed put. Millia began to slowly turn.
"Llewelyn, I miss you," she began sobbing again.
As she moved, they all noticed the light draining from the world around them. Everyone instinctively grabbed their weapons, but it did no good. They were all hit with a painful pressure that felt like they were being squeezed to another death. All four einherjar grunted or whimpered in pain, clutching their own heads. While Arngrim remained on his feet, Belenus and Llewelyn fell to their knees. Jelanda fell over onto her side.
"Oh, shit, what is this?" Arngrim growled. "It…ah It's like needles in my head!"
"Lady Valkyrie, make it stop!" Jelanda begged.
"What in the Nine Realms could be causing this?" Belenus demanded.
Even Lenneth flinched at the pressure, having to shake her head to clear her mind. Through his pain, Llewelyn managed to keep his eyes trained on Millia.
"Is it… Millia?" he asked.
Llewelyn saw something then which made him forget his pain for a moment. A dark shape took form on Millia's back as she faced them. More than anything, he saw how pained she looked. Her brow twitched as she held her head.
"No! Stop it! Just stop it! I don't want this!" she cried.
The black mass seemed to climb higher onto her shoulders. A bulbous bit sticking out of the top which might have been a head, seemed to lean in closer to her ears. A voice unlike any Llewelyn had ever heard before spoke:
"Llewelyn is dead. You are mine now. Come. Come down with me. Come to Lady Hel."
The ground turned black under Millia and a vortex of ash began to form around her.
"Tch! The fiend is going to take her to the Underworld," Lenneth said.
"What?" Llewelyn cried. "Please, save her."
Lenneth's hand glowed with a pale green as she trained it on the beast.
"Vile brute, by the holy laws, you shall be obliterated," she declared. "Now release your victim, in Odin's name."
She blasted the creature. The entity and Millia roared in agony in unison/ For a moment, it looked like it might let go of Millia. It was drawn out of her, clinging by several gaseous cords. The girl threw her head back and screamed with the amorphous thing again. However, despite the Valkyrie's best efforts. It drew back into Millia.
"Millia!" Llewelyn cried when his beloved doubled over and began retching.
He dashed over to her and tried holding her. Upon touching her, his hands burned.
"Ye-ouch!" Llewelyn cried and fell back onto his behind.
He looked at his palms, which were in an unnatural black color, which began smoking.
Lenneth set her jaw firmly as she glared at the entity.
"The fiend has taken root deep within her now. We will need to weaken it," the goddess said. "Human, you must bring her mind back to the present."
Llewelyn's deep shock froze him a moment, but the instant Millia's feet began to sink into the ground, he was spurred into action. Fear and worry and turned to resolve and anger. He bore the pain and drew an arrow from his quiver before taking aim at the thing on Millia's back.
"You!" he shouted.
He could not tell if the thing noticed him or not. It's sickening hissing and wheezing was so pervasive, it could have meant those dreadful sounds at anyone. Llewelyn did care, either way.
"Get away from Millia!" he hollered.
He let the arrow fly. It hit its target, bursting into particles of light upon contact with the entity. It howled and recoiled, also dragging Millia with it, but Llewelyn was having none of it. They all felt the overwhelming pressure lessen and he took his chance. Llewelyn leapt and grabbed hold of Millia, digging his boots into the grass and refusing to let it take her away. He cried out as the negative energies infesting her burned him again, but he did not let go. As for Millia, she began blinking off some of the delirium. At the least, she became aware she was being held in someone's arms.
"I… will not let you take her!" Llewelyn told the beast.
"Hehehe… who don't you die with her."
It leaned in to take hold of him as well, but Llewelyn did not let go. He stared up at it defiantly before whispering into Millia's ear.
"I will wait for you forever, you told me. Remember?" he said. "Do you remember this?"
His words reached a corner of her mind, and her eyes began to light up again.
"…Llewelyn?" she looked up slowly, almost recognizing him with eyes still half-clouded.
Llewelyn reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the ruined leatherbound holder containing his official papers and the pressed edelweiss. He opened it. The water damage had only just begun to seep inside when he collectedit from his own corpse, so the flower was still mostly intact. He held it up for Millia to see.
"Look, 'tis the edelweiss you gave me," he said.
She looked at the flower.
"Your symbol of love, devotion, and protection over me," Llewelyn told her. "Sorry I forgot to bring you one in return."
Millia's eyes snapped open, and she looked right at him with full comprehension.
"Llewelyn!" she cried joyously.
The entity shrieked as the flow of negativity coming from the girl was cut off. It tried to pull away again. This time, Millia felt it, turned, and looked. She saw the black mass clinging to her back and screamed.
"Mystic Cross!" The purifying spell fired from Jelanda's staff, flying around on both sides to bypass Llewelyn and Millia.
The cross-shaped holy spell blasted the dark aberration about six times. It and Millia both screamed as one. With each blast, its grip on her lessened.
"Llewelyn! It hurts!" Millia's tears were streaming as she clung to him.
The boy's grip on her only tightened as his unwillingness to let her go grew. He dug his heels in and this time, pulled against this beast.
"What is that thing?" Millia cried.
"Just hold on," he told her. "You can trust me. It's really me, Millia. I'm back."
He hugged her tightly, a sensation Millia had missed so dearly. Tears rolled down from her eyes, too, and she held him back.
"Oh, Llewelyn! You have returned to me! I don't care how, but you're back! You're back!"
"What is this? No! Your despair was so delicious! You can't do this!" the entity shrieked.
Millia tried not to acknowledge the creature, burying her face in Llewelyn's chest.
"Yes. Don't look at it, Millia! It's nothing," he assured.
Lenneth saw her chance. She appeared next to the entity, finger pointed at the dark thing.
"Begone, evil one!" she shouted.
She blasted it with the cleansing energy again, and this time…
It let go.
Millia groaned in pain, feeling something torn out from inside her. This time, she twisted around in Llewelyn's grip, taking in sight of her assailant. She whimpered as the black mass writhed and twitched in the air. Llewelyn grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her away, putting himself between the entity and her. He glared at it in the corner of his eye.
"Hey, rain cloud!" Arngrim shouted as he and Belenus barreled past.
They both slashed the beast as they ran past it. The entity broke apart more. Dark tufts of smoke-like darkness dispersing in the air. Lenneth raised her hand over her head.
"Your time has time!" she declared.
Lenneth flew into the air, hovering over it with the great spear now in hand.
"Divine Assault! Nibelung Valesti!"
Llewelyn and Millia watched in fascinated horror as the entity was skewered four times by the quadruple spears and was obliterated with one final scream. Then Lenneth landed. She kneeled, scanning the area for any lingering evil. She focused on something the others could not see and then ran over to a seemingly random spot. Lenneth reached out and her hands began to glow. What appeared to be a busted seam in reality materialized. Icy cold winds blew through it, making Lenneth's braid and skirts billow.
"'Tis a rift leading straight to Niflheim," Lenneth had to resist the urge to gasp.
She closed her eyes and ran her hands along the edges of the fissure, sealing it shut. The ends seemed to pull together like they were being rewoven and then they vanished. Lenneth did a scan of the area with her senses one more time, and then relaxed.
"The land is clean," she announced.
Jelanda sighed.
"Oh, thank you, goddess. That was awful," she said.
Lenneth turned, closing her eyes again. Stretching out with her senses, she sought out the sick string of fate. It took a moment, but she found it. After Llewelyn's new fate had been chosen and the bonds of Llewelyn's life purified, it had been successfully resprung and returned to its original hue.
The goddess let out a whoosh of air in relief, knowing they were triumphant.
Millia stared at the Valkyrie, made speechless by what she was seeing. Her eyes drifted over to Arngrim, Belenus, and finally the little princess as she walked past to rejoin the others. Jelanda gave the older girl a smile and a wave as she went. Millia waved back, staring blankly and operating on instinct at this point.
"The… the Valkyrie?" Millia stammered.
A faint look of horror came upon her as it dawned on her what that meant. She did not hide her anguish as she turned to Llewelyn once more.
"Say it isn't so," she begged him, starting to cry. "Tell me you're not…"
She had to stifle it to keep talking.
"…Dead."
Llewelyn's reluctance to answer spoke many words on its own.
"I'm sorry, Millia. I died at sea. We were attacked and I drowned," he answered.
"Llewelyn," she repeated miserably.
This time, she engulfed him in a tight hug, which he did not return.
"Forgive me. I couldn't keep my promise," he said.
"You have to go now, don't you?" Millia asked. "You only returned to slay that… that thing?"
"…Yes," Llewelyn reluctantly answered.
He gingerly took hold of her upper hands and pushed her away. He gave her one more lingering look.
"Goodbye, Millia," he said. "I love you."
"And I love you. Always will."
Millia leaned in for one more kiss.
"Don't," he told himself. "It'll just make it worse. There's nothing you can do now that won't just remind her of what we could have shared."
He instead backed away, barely containing his own emotion. Millia opened her eyes, looking at him with a mix of shock and heartbreak. He shook his head, weakly starting to speak.
"I'm sorry, but I can't."
Llewelyn started to walk away. Belenus put his hands on his hips, disapproving of the boy's conduct. Only his sense of propriety kept him from grabbing the boy by the shoulders and violently shaking him. Millia turned and reached for Llewelyn but couldn't find the strength to pursue. She broke down again, burying her face in her hands, still having tears to spill. Llewelyn made himself keep moving until he stood before Lenneth.
"Alright, I'm ready," Llewelyn said.
Lenneth instead looked at the weeping girl, and just like before in the home of Belenus, something came over her. There was no external change, but a dull ache in Lenneth's own heart told her not to let the boy leave things like this.
"The proof is in their eyes. Neither will ever know peace if I do not end this foolishness," she thought.
"You are certain of this?" Lenneth asked, gesturing with her head toward Millia.
Llewelyn raised his hands in a helpless shrug.
"What could I possibly say?" his cracking voice made even more hoarse in his sadness. "There are no words…"
"If you believe we can do nothing for you humans, you are mistaken," she said. "Did I not save you, and help you save her?"
Llewelyn didn't answer. Feeling more frustration, Lenneth leaned in, and spoke in a firm whisper.
"Look at her," she said with a sense of urgency.
Llewelyn started to turn his head but stopped himself before he could see the girl dejectedly sobbing behind him.
"Look. At. Her," Lenneth commanded.
Llewelyn gave in and turned around, facing Millia fully. Lenneth stepped in close behind him to whisper.
"For those who remain, the death of a loved one leaves wounds that only grow deeper and deeper."
As Llewelyn listened, he began to see just how heartbroken Millia was and began to regret his attempt just walk away.
"With agony incomparable, the hearts of those left behind are in bondage. They grow weaker and weaker," Lenneth continued to press him.
Llewelyn's gaze lowered to the ground in shame.
"Can you not see it?" the Valkyrie demanded. "If you just abandon her, she will cease to live, perhaps not literally, but the pain could leave her frozen in this moment of time."
Lenneth stepped around beside him, capturing him under a severe gaze.
"If that happens, you may as well have slain her with one of your own arrows," she said.
"She's strong. She'll overcome it," Llewelyn insisted.
"Lovers are strong because they find strength in each other," Lenneth countered. "She is a future bride without her groom. There is no hand to clasp hers' now. You must give her yours' one more time."
"Will that be enough?" he asked.
"There is no need to pretend," Lenneth's tone softened. "Just do what you can."
Llewelyn looked at Millia again and gulped as he tried to muster his courage.
"Hey, boy," Arngrim growled.
Llewelyn glanced toward him. The large warrior leaning against one of the Scots pines. He stared Llewelyn down with an air of condemnation.
"None of us got the chance to say goodbye," Arngrim's stern words hit hard. "You really wanna throw this away?"
"I could not have it better myself," Belenus conferred.
Llewelyn regarded Arngrim for a long moment, and then nodded. Without another word, he marched over to Millia with purpose. Hearing him stomping through the brush, she looked up with tearful eyes just in time to get grabbed up in another embrace and his lips suddenly upon hers'. Her eyes momentarily widened, before they slowly shut, and the lovers held each other desperately.
The gallery turned around, giving the couple a moment of privacy. After what seemed like forever, Llewelyn and Millia ended the kiss.
"Forgive me, that was cruel," he apologized. "I was trying to protect myself, not you."
He hugged her again, bringing his mouth close to her ear so only she would hear when he whispered.
"When I said I love you, I meant it. I will always love you, and I'll always be with you. I'm sorry. I never should have made that promise. So please…"
He paused, swallowing his feelings down.
"Don't give up. You have to keep living," he begged.
"I feel so alone without you," Millia murmured.
"I know, and so did I when I was away," he replied.
She looked into his eyes but saw no lie.
"We…" Llewelyn paused, trying to find his words. "We both have to be strong, even apart. I have to go with the Valkyrie. There's nothing that can prevent it now."
"I know," she sighed.
"Just take it one day at a time," he said. "If you can make it today, then you make it tomorrow. It'll get easier. It's how I coped with being in the navy."
Millia looked at him, never having realized how hard it was for him, too.
"Look at yourself, Millia," she scolded herself. "Llewelyn's the one who died, alone and afraid in the eastern sea, and you're here feeling sorry for yourself."
Millia began to smile and took his hands in hers'.
"Alright," she said warmly. "I promise."
"So do I," Llewelyn said with a smile of his own. "I promise to stay strong, too. Even if moving on is hard."
"Hold on to our fond memories," Millia told him. "Remember me."
Llewelyn chuckled.
"Remember me, too."
"Always," Millia vowed.
"Forever," he affirmed.
As the other einherjar waited, one of Lenneth's statements stuck out in their minds.
"For those who remain, the death of a loved one leaves wounds that only grow deeper and deeper."
Belenus thought on how Asaka must have reacted when she awoke to his dead body next to hers'. Jelanda thought of her father again and hugged herself while longing to see him again. Arngrim tried not to wallow in his worries about Roland, telling himself Lawson and Lawfer wouldn't let anything happen to him. His moment was interrupted by a heavy sigh from Lenneth.
Arngrim glanced at her in amusement as they all still stood off to the sidelines with their backs turned and their ears open.
"Something wrong, Valkyrie? Jealous?" he teased.
Lenneth gave him an annoyed glare before turning away in a huff.
"This is not my task," she wearily. "I am no Goddess of Love."
Arngrim smirked. He considered reminding her that she'd chosen to go out of her way to help Belenus and that Asaka girl before. Now Llewelyn, too. However, he decided she deserved a reprieve from his usual snark.
The crunching of twigs and dry grass alerted them to the fact that Llewelyn was returning. They faced him, and he seemed to walk taller as he rejoined them.
"I am ready," he said with contentment.
Lenneth nodded in acknowledgement.
"Then we are off."
Millia watched in amazed silence as the einherjar became transparent and were lifted from the ground an instant after the Valkyrie took off. And then they were gone, leaving a flurry of white feathers in their wake. She reached out her hand and allowed one of Lenneth's plumes to land in her palm. She smiled, now having a memento and proof of what she experienced.
"I knew it. I knew it! Ah-ha!"
Lezard turned away from the washbasin, supremely pleased with himself.
"I knew it," he repeated. "She's sensitive to the plights of lovers in the midst of tragedy."
He grinned again.
"Oh, Lady Valkyrie, you only make yourself more appealing with every piece of yourself you show me."
His smile turned sinister after another thought entered his head.
"And you've shown me how to bring you back to me when the time is right," he purred.
