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Chapter 4 - Close Your Heart
An hour had passed since the trio had departed from their home. During that time, they had learned that a protection stave around their woods, created by Faye to ward off intruders. Though the stave had been broken by Kratos, who had cut down one of the marked trees, as his wife wanted it to be used for her pyre.
'Why did she want father to break the protection stave? Did she know the Aesir would come looking for him?' Timaeus thought as he knelt down to pick up hacksilver from a fallen Draugr.
Having just slain a horde of Draugr, the family spent the last few minutes gathering their spoils of war. Hacksilver, heathstones, ores and other metals, anything Kratos had declared as useful they gathered. While Atreus eagerly gathered the supplies with their father, Timaeus was in his thoughts.
"You are in your head again."
Hearing his father's voice from behind him nearly caused the swordsman to jump in surprise. Instead he quickly stood up and turned around to face the bearded man.
"I was just… thinking about what we'll encounter on our journey to the mountain." Timaeus lied, not wanting to tell his father his true thoughts. "Like those blue things, they're like Draugr, but they're not. With the ice that they used, it's like they came from Helheim."
"Helheim?"
"Mother spoke of it once, she called it a realm of death and despair. It's where those who died an dishonorable death end up, forced to walk through icy lands where no fire can exist." Timaeus explained to his intrigued father.
"Your mother, she spoke much of these lands, yes?" Kratos asked, a thought filling his bald head.
"Just what she knew. She always spoke of her own journeys and stories others told her about the nine realms." Timaeus replied. "Atreus knows more than me, Mother told him more stories."
"All knowledge has its uses, no matter how little or useless it may seem. I have lived in these lands for many years, but know very little of the creatures it houses." Kratos said.
"Do you… want me to tell you about the beasts she mentioned? Just in case we run into them?"
"Only when you can identify the creatures, and can confirm its abilities. Misinformation can lead to death far quicker than any weapon." Kratos explained, just as Atreus called out to them.
"Father! Timaeus! Look at this!"
One short walk later, the father/son duo came upon Atreus standing before a large boulder with runes inscribed into the stone. While Kratos couldn't read the runes, Timaeus and Atreus could.
"There's a Jötnar settlement ahead."
"Jötnar?"
"Giants. Mother spoke of them often. She said they were at war with the Aesir for a long time, but they lost." Timaeus said, a hint of sadness in his voice.
"The both you can read the writing?"
"Some, just the ones mother knew. She said that languages and writing can change, it just depends on which realm you're in." Atreus explained. "But they're all sort of connected, so sometimes I can feel my way through stuff I shouldn't know. Ya know?"
"Mother always said you were smart for your age. I can barely understand most of the words she showed us, yet he took to it as easily as a fish could swim." Timaeus said, lightly poking his brother's head.
"Stop that." Atreus said as he swatted his brother's hand away, though there was a small smile on his face. "Like you're one to talk, it took me days before I could hit a target with an arrow, but you did it after seeing Mother use her bow once."
"I mean, have you seen your arms? I think I've seen twigs that are bigger than them."
"You know, your head reminds me of those old pots we saw in the temple ruins, empty and dusty."
"Enough!" Kratos said, causing his two sons to close their mouths and step away from one another. "We shall continue in silence."
Lifting up a piece of a stone column, Kratos held it long enough for his sons to pass through, before setting it down with a loud thud. Before he could take a single step, Atreus had run ahead onto an old rope bridge.
"Look! There's the mountain! Let's go!"
"Atreus! Slow down. The bridge doesn't look strong enough!" Timaeus called out as he stood in front of the old rope bridge, not daring to take a single step.
"It's fine, see!" Atreus replied as he stomped on the old wooden plank, only for it to break. He would've fallen if he hadn't grabbed onto a different step. "Help!"
"Atreus!" Timaeus and Kratos yelled as the bearded man rushed over and carefully stepped onto the bridge, motioning for his oldest son to stay where he was.
Unfortunately, Kratos' steps caused the bridge to become even more unstable, and in turn, caused Atreus to panic even further. With each step he took, the bridge became closer and closer to being destroyed. Just as Kratos grabbed his son's outstretched hand and lifted the boy into his arms, the bridge collapsed beneath them.
The two fell for several seconds before Kratos' back hit the ground, luckily he still held Atreus, who was uninjured.
"Father! Atreus! Are you two alright?" Timaeus called from above, leaning over the edge to peer down at his father and brother. Though he began to worry, seeing Draugr in a statue-like state surrounding his family. "I'll be right down!"
"We are unharmed."Kratos replied, looking up at his eldest son. "The ledge beneath you, it leads to the ruins. Go and wait for us there, but do not let yourself be distracted by whatever you may find."
"Yes, sir." Timaeus said as he carefully hopped down onto the ledge and made his way down the path. "I'll wait for you two across the other bridge."
The swordsman was hesitant to leave his family, but he knew that his father would be able to handle any monster in the nine realms, and Atreus would be more safe with Kratos than him. But after everything that happened, losing his mother, fighting the ogre, and nearly losing his life to Baldur, Timaeus was afraid to be away from his father and brother.
But he had no time to dwell on these feelings. He had to endure and become stronger. Strong enough to protect his family. Strong enough to spread his mother's ashes on top of the mountain's peak. Strong enough to send the Aesir running to Asgard should they rear their ugly heads.
Climbing up a length of chain, Timaeus pulled himself up over a ledge. Behind him were the aforementioned ruins, and in front of him led to the larger bridge. Though, something had been bothering the swordsman since they had first arrived in the area.
When they had made their presence known, after Atreus and Kratos broke the bridge, Timaeus had felt something that felt… corrupted so to say. It was dark, mad, wicked. The swordsman had never sensed something like this before. Whatever it was, it overpowered his empathic ability, and the source of it is on the other side of the bridge.
Steeling himself, Timaeus began to cross the bridge, doing his best not to feel ill from whatever had invaded his senses. The sound of his father and brother fighting began to fade away as he neared the other side of the bridge. After passing through the large burning tree trunks, the swordsman almost immediately reached up and grabbed Balmung's hilt.
He felt as if he was about to throw up, knots forming in his stomach as he began to sweat. Timaeus closed his eyes and took in deep breaths, attempting to calm his nerves. His breath hitched however, as he felt a pair of soft and soothing hands cup his cheeks.
"Timaeus? What's wrong?"
Hearing a young woman's voice, the swordsman opened his eyes, and much to his shock, saw Pandora before him.
"Pandora?" Timaeus asked, causing the girl's eyes to widen before she gave him a faint smile. The swordsman was able to sense relief and joy from the girl, and a hint of sadness when tears began to form at the corner of her eyes.
"You can hear me? You can see me?" Pandora asked softly as the swordsman reached up and gently grasped her hands, causing her eyes to widen even more. "You can touch me?"
"Pandora, how are you here?" Timaeus gently asked, but he received no reply as the girl pulled him into a hug, crying softly into his chest.
"I've spent so long with no one able to see me, hear me, but you can." Pandora said, lifting her head up to look the swordsman in the eyes. "Not even Kratos could see me."
"My father, how do you know him?" The swordsman asked as the girl pulled away from him. "How long have you been with us?"
"Kratos… is an old friend. He saved me a long time ago, and I did the same." Pandora began, taking a few steps away to look around the ruins, though Timaeus noticed how she didn't leave any footprints in the mud. "I died helping him, my body faded away but my spirit remained. For countless years, I remained by his side, but he couldn't see me. No matter what I did… I was just an unseen phantom."
"Then he met your mother, and had you and your brother. I went from trying to bring peace during his nightmares, to watching over you all. After watching Baldur nearly kill you, I did everything I could to save you." Pandora said as she cupped her hands together and a blue flame appeared. "Hope is what helped save you… and I think it's what's letting you see me."
"Hope… it's what makes us strong." Timaeus whispered, remembering the words she had spoken.
"A long time ago, Kratos unknowingly absorbed the power of Hope. In an act of self-sacrifice, he released it into the world, but a small amount stayed with him. My spirit latched onto it, and I believe it passed down onto you and Atreus." Pandora explained as she closed her hands and dispersed the flames. "For a moment I awoke it, just enough to save you. Now it's up to you to fully awaken it."
"The power of Hope…" Timaeus said as he looked down at his hands as Pandora slipped her hands into his own. "My father… maybe he forgot what it means to have Hope?"
Before the girl could reply, the malicious feeling returned and ahead of them. Acting quickly, Timaeus pulled Pandora behind him and activated his shield, the cracked object defending the two from a ball of poisonous magic. Peering from behind his shield, the swordsman spotted a group of three men across from them.
Two of them had worn yet still sharp swords, while the third had a sickly green magic emitting from his raised hand.
"I thought he was going crazy, talking to himself like that." One of the swordsmen said, a hint of madness in his voice.
"He was with the others, the ones who wrecked the bridge." The magic user said as he aimed his hand again.
"That means if we'll have enough meat for the next month." The second swordsmen said as he licked his lips. "Just as long as we strip their flesh piece by piece, so they won't turn into Hel-Walkers."
"Timaeus, you need to-" Pandora began, but stopped when the swordsman dropped his knapsack and reached up to pull his sword off of his back.
"Seiðr Magic… mother spoke of it, trading pieces of one's own soul for power. I don't know how this magic would affect you, but I would rather not find out." Timaeus said, not taking his eyes off the Reavers, who began to inch themselves forward.
The spirit looked like she wanted to object, but instead she kept her thoughts to herself. Taking one last look at Timaeus, her body began to dissolve into blue embers before disappearing.
Taking the initiative, one of the Reaver's charged forward and swung his blade, but it was parried by Timaeus' shield. Pulling his arm back, the teen slammed his shield into the Reaver's face, sending the man crashing into the mud with a sickening snap. Sidestepping to avoid the second one's sword swing, Timaeus raised Balmung and quickly swung the sword across his foe's back.
The Reaver let out an almost animalistic cry in pain as the large sword cut open his back. Blood quickly poured from the wound and stained the mud beneath him.
Flinching from the Reaver's cry, Timaeus steeled himself and turned around, activating his shield to block a ball of Seiðr magic. With lightning dancing along Balmung, the swordsman pulled the blade back and thrusted it forward, shooting gold colored lightning at the magic user. The Reaver's body froze in place, the lightning paralyzing the man. Fear filled his eyes as Timaeus charged forward and-
*SLICE!*
Swung Balmung into the Seiðr user's waist, creating a fatal wound. The Reaver fell into the mud and began pleading for his life, praying to whatever God who would listen to save him. Upon seeing this, Timaeus hesitated, before gritting his teeth and raising his sword into the air.
With a powerful swing, Timaeus brough Balmung down onto the Reaver's head, nearly cleaving it in two. Blood flew through the air as the corpse fell backwards, covering the swordsman in the dark red liquid.
Dropping his sword, Timaeus looked down at his blood stained hands before quickly trying to clean his hands using his tunic. The teen began to hyperventilate as tears began forming in his eyes rubbing his hands on his tunic with enough speed and force that it began to burn.
Timaeus was panicking too much, so much that he didn't see nor feel the Reaver's reinforcements. What he did feel is the arrow that flew through the air and pierced his left shoulder.
Gritting his teeth in pain, Timaeus looked up and saw thirteen more Reavers come out of the path ahead. Grabbing the arrow, he shouted in pain before he tore it from his flesh. Lifting his hand, Balmung flew into his grasp and he then flicked the sword, letting the blood that stained it shake off.
"Look what we got here, boys! A little whelp who thinks he can come into our home, kill our brothers, and then feel sad about it." The leader of the reavers laughed, he's a big brute of a man wielding a large mace. "Look at him! It's a surprise that he could even lift that hunk of raw iron."
"Keep him alive, boys!" The giant of a man said as he pointed his mace at Timaeus. "We're having a feast tonight!"
Balmung sang as lightning surged through the blade, and with a mighty swing, slammed the greatsword into the earth, causing an explosion of lightning that consumed five Reavers. Activating his shield, Timaeus parried a sword swing from a sixth Reaver before pulling his arm back and bashing his head in with the cracked shield. Holding his greatsword with both hands, the teen spun around slashed open the chest of a seventh.
As the wounded Reaver fell to the ground, Timaeus quickly activated his shield to block an arrow aiming for his neck. Marching forward, the swordsman was undeterred by the flurry of arrows that bounced off his shield, and closed the distance before slamming into the archer with the force of a charging bull. The last thing the Reaver saw was Balmung being thrusted into his stomach before darkness overtook him.
Pulling his sword free, Timaeus turned around and swung Balmung into the neck of a charging Reaver. Quickly pivoting on his feet, the swordsman lifted his blade and drove it down onto the head of a Reaver that intended to strike his back. With a third mighty swing, Timaeus spun around and cut off the arms of a third Reaver, leaving the man in the mud with blood flowing from his wounds.
'Incredible! Every time he swings his enchanted sword, one of my men dies.' The mace wielding man thought as Timaeus blocked a sword before retaliating with a shield bash. 'He's young, probably not even sixteen winters old yet.'
As the Reaver was tumbling backwards from the bash, Timaeus thrusted Balmung into the man's stomach before pulling out the greatsword and using it to slice open the neck of the other one. With the last of his men killed, the brute of a man smiled before calling out to the teen.
"Despite how you look, you sure can kill, boy." The man laughed as he twirled his mace. "How about we make a deal? You surrender and join me, and I won't kill you! Whatever treasures we plunder, we'll split down the middle!"
Timaeus remained silent, almost reeling at the feeling of malice emanating from the man before him. He only tightened his grip on Balmung's hilt, readying himself to fight the man. Seeing this, the large Reaver gave the teen a toothy yet sadistic grin before lifting his mace in return. His yellow fang-like teeth seemed to reflect his twisted mind.
"I gave you a chance, boy. So don't blame me for what happens next!" The Reaver cried as he charged forward and lifted his mace.
Activating his shield to block the weapon, Timaeus didn't even flinch as a loud gong echoed through the area. The Reaver however, was stronger than he appeared. Pulling his weapon back, the man began to mercilessly pummel the shield with his large mace.
"Let's just see how long this shield can last!" The Reaver yelled as he lifted his mace above his head.
Seeing this, the teen jumped back and avoided the downward strike. Without wasting another moment, Timaeus swung his sword and sliced open the man's chest and upper arms. Much to the swordsman's shock, the man didn't seem to register the wounds. He simply pulled his mace back as his injuries glowed a sickly green before closing, healing the man.
"Seiðr magic." Timaeus muttered as lightning began to flow through Balmung's blade.
"Hehehehe. That's right, boy." The Reaver laughed as he lifted his mace again. "It'll take more than some light scratches to kill me."
Steel clashed against steel, the Reaver's heavy mace meeting Balmung as each fighter swung their weapon. Sparks flew with each strike, the short lived flashes of light almost looked like fireflies. Timaeus lifted his blade for an overhead strike, but it was blocked by the mace's long handle. The Reaver twisted his weapon to smash its head against the swordsman's hands, but the teen jumped back to avoid this.
As the Reaver lifted the mace again, its head was being infused with Seiðr Magic, something Timaeus took notice of. Charging Balmung with lightning, the swordsman swung his blade to counter the Seiðr infused weapon. The two fighters were locked in a test of strength, trying to overpower the other. That is, until the Reaver pulled his head back and headbutted Timaeus, breaking his nose and sending him stumbling back.
As blood poured down his face, the swordsman activated his shield to block the Reaver's mace. This was a distraction as the man raised his leg and kicked the side of Timaeus' knee, causing the latter's knee to buckle. Seizing the opportunity, the Reaver forced the shield away and slammed his mace's hilt into the side of the teen's head, causing him to be sent into the mud.
The Reaver quickly hefted his mace up before bringing it down onto Timaeus' right hand, causing him to shout in pain and forcing him to let go of Balmung. Activating his shield, the swordsman slammed it against the man's knee with a sickening crunch. As the man was in a fetal position, holding his knee in pain, Timaeus jumped onto the man and wrapped his hands around the Reaver's throat.
The Reaver tried to pull the swordsman's hands from his neck, but it was unsuccessful, it just made Timaeus tighten his grip. The man punched and kicked, but this did little to phase the swordsman. Even infusing his hands with Seiðr and using them to grab his attacker's face didn't save him. It was like the teen turned into a machine.
It was only after the Reaver went limp did Timaeus snap out of it. Looking down at the now dead man did he realize what he did. The swordsman looked at his own bloodstained hands, and to the corpses that covered the area. Pushing himself off the Reaver's body, Timaeus crawled in the mud before stopping.
He began to hyperventilate again, tears flowing down his face before opening his mouth and vomiting.
"Close your heart to it… close your heart… close…" Timaeus muttered, repeating the words his father had told him and his brother earlier at the start of their journey.
Before he could pull himself together, Timaeus grabbed his head as he began to sense intense negative emotions. Pure burning rage and cold unrelenting fury. Pushing himself into a kneeling position, his eyes widened as the corpses of the Reavers began to reanimate. Some turned icy blue, while others had their body burned and disfigured.
"Close your heart to their suffering." Timaeus said as he held out his hand and called Balmung into his grasp.
Timaeus pulled himself onto his feet and took a stance. As the Draugr and Hel-Walkers took notice of him, the swordsman grit his teeth and charged at the monsters.
"Close your heart to it."
Those are the words that played in Atreus' head. The young archer had taken his first life, his father told him those words. Telling him to not feel for someone who would have killed him, or done something even worse. It did nothing to ease the boy's guilt, and nothing probably would be able to.
Atreus walked in a daze, following his father as the two crossed the large bridge in silence. The young archer didn't even notice his father coming to a stop at the end of the bridge. Only when he collided with the back of Kratos' leg was he pulled from his thoughts.
"Why'd you stop?" Atreus asked as he peered around his father, only for his eyes to widen in shock from what he saw.
The area before them was covered in crimson and azure colored blood, gashes and footprints scarred the mud, and hacksilver and other resources littered the ground. There was even a pair of severed arms lying in the mud.
"What happened here?" Atreus asked as he pulled his bow off his back, "Do you think Timaeus did this?"
Kratos merely grunted in response, turning his head to scan the area. While he wasn't the best tracker, he learned a thing or two from his wife. Motioning for Atreus to stay put, he began to follow the more fresh looking footprints. The bearded man walked through the mud until he came upon a section of locked ruins. It was there, sitting against a stone wall, where he found his eldest son.
His eyes were open and his chest was rising, meaning he was alive and breathing, but he looked worse for wear. His body was covered in different sized cuts, and stained in blood. His nose was broken and his hair damp with sweat and blood. His white tunic is torn and unrecognizable. Like its wielder, Balmung was stained with the blood of multiple foes and stabbed into the mud before Timaeus.
Approaching his son, Kratos knelt down and carefully placed a hand on his son's shoulder. Before the man could say something, Timaeus spoke, barely above a whisper, but the father of two heard it clearly.
"I closed my heart to it."
Kratos knew what his son meant. He had killed Reavers just like he and Atreus had done earlier. His youngest son had killed a single man, but he knew that Timaeus had killed more than one. What's more, the blue blood that stained the teen and the mud meant that they came back as Hel-Walkers.
"Geez, the fuck happened here?" A new voice called out, causing Kratos and Timaeus to stand up and grab their weapons. "Looks like the outside of an Aesir brothel."
Upon seeing the owner of the voice, both father and son sheathed their weapons. Standing at the end of the bridge is a blue dwarf with a strange camel-like creature that was hauling smithing items and tools. Atreus was next to him, carrying his brother's knapsack in his arms.
"Looks like you've been put through the ringer, kid." The dwarf spoke as he took notice of Timaeus. "I've seen drunken idiots who didn't look as bad as you."
"Hmph, come boys." Kratos said before either of his sons could open their mouths. "There is still plenty of daylight left before nightfall."
"Say, wait a minute baldy. You're not gonna believe me, but that axe you got. It was me what made her, me and my brother. One of our best if you ask me." The dwarf said as he approached them. "You gotta handle her special or she'll wreck beyond fixin'. I can enhance her right now if it so pleases you son of a bitch."
"You are right, I do not believe you." Kratos said as Timaeus walked over and took his knapsack from his brother's arms. "Come, boys."
"There's a rune in the shape of a fork under the grip." The dwarf said as he walked off to set up his smithy.
Hearing that, Kratos pulled the axe from his back and inspected it. He and his sons looked to see a rune burned into the wooden handle of the axe, almost being covered by the old wrappings.
"That was our brand, my brother and me, before we split. I got half of it right here, see?" The blue dwarf said as he held up a branding iron for them to see. "Look, you want I should upgrade her or not?"
"Very well, but I expect to see an improvement." Kratos said as he held up his axe and followed the blacksmith.
"You look like you wouldn't know an improvement from a lump on your sack." The dwarf said as he turned to the young swordsman. "What about you, kid? I can forge a smaller sword, one right for your size."
"I don't need a smaller sword." Timaeus said as he pulled Balmung from his back and presented the blade to the dwarf. "Just an improvement and better armor."
Upon seeing the greatsword, the dwarf's eyes widened in shock and awe. He hastily approached the blade and raised a hand, but didn't touch it. Almost as if he was afraid of touching Balmung.
"By Lady Sif's soft, perfect sloshers." The dwarf said in a loud whisper. "Kid, where'd you get this here blade?"
Timaeus was taken aback at this. The loud and crude dwarf they had just met had quickly turned silent at the sight of his sword. That must mean he knows Balmung, or knew the blacksmith who forged it.
"It was my mothers. It was passed down to her, and then down to me." Timaeus said as he knelt down to show the dwarf the sword more closely. "You know this sword?"
"Don't know the sword, but I know the one who forged it. I'd recognize his work anywhere." The dwarf said as he pointed to a rune that was branded onto the hilt, just beneath the crossguard. "This here is my Pa's brand."
The brand in question is similar to the Othala (ᛟ) rune, and it looks similar to the one on Kratos' axe. The top half of the rune is a rhombus shaped shield with a pair of crossed spears forming the two support 'columns', a short sword is attached to the shield vertically with the hilt protruding atop of the shield. Finally, a serpent is circling the rune and biting its own tail.
"I remember every weapon he ever forged, and this blade is something I ain't ever seen before." The dwarf said as he gently ran his hand down the blade. "Don't know how it ended up in her hands, but if Faye had it, means the one who gave it to her sought out my Pa to make it."
"You knew my mother?" Atreus asked the dwarf, disbelief etched into his voice as he spoke.
"Course I did! That's why I ain't asking tall, pale, and gloomy why he has her axe." The dwarf said as he walked back to his forge. "The only way she would've given it to someone is either she gave it to them, or she drove it into their skull."
"And what's your name?" Atreus asked.
"Name's Brok."
With introductions out of the way, the dwarf began to work on their weapons. Kratos and Atreus quietly observe Brok's master blacksmithing skills, meanwhile Timaeus remained vigilant of their surroundings. Silently pacing the area, clearly being unable to stand still.
Before the teen could create a trench in the mud, a soft blue light caught his attention. Turning his head, Timaeus' eyes widened upon seeing Pandora standing across from him. As he opened his mouth to speak, the young woman raised a finger to her lips, motioning him to remain silent. She then turned around and walked towards the trees with white trunks, and Timaeus silently followed after her.
Making his way to the trees, Timaeus stopped in front of Pandora. Opening his mouth, the teen found himself unable to say anything as the girl pulled him into a hug. He felt the warmth of her touch, the gentleness of her fingers as she ran them through his hair.
"It's okay, Timaeus. You did what you had to do." Pandora whispered, causing the swordsman to freeze in her arms. "It's okay to cry."
Timaeus did nothing as she continued to hug him, but after a few moments, he slowly wrapped his arms around her. He buried his face into Pandora's shoulder as tears began to flow from his eyes. The girl remained silent as his breathing turned heavy and he began to choke on the words trying to escape his mouth.
"M-m-monster… I…"
The two stayed like that for what felt like hours, but was only a few minutes at most. Soon all of Timaeus' tears have been shed, and he pulled his head away from Pandora's shoulder. The girl gently caressed his face, and the swordsman felt a strange warmth forming in his face. The spirit gave him a smile as she wiped away the remaining tears.
"It's okay to feel this way, that's what makes us human." Pandora said as she began to turn into blue embers. "So long as you can open your heart to it, you'll never lose your humanity."
After saying her piece, Pandora disappeared into blue embers that scattered into the wind. Now alone, Timaeus looked down at his bloodstained hands. Clenching his hands, he reached into his pouch and pulled out a healthstone. After using it, he took a deep breath and exhaled deeply.
"Timaeus?" Atreus spoke, causing the teen to turn his head to see his brother walking up to him. "You okay?"
"I'm fine. I just needed some air." Timaeus replied as he reached a hand to pat his brother's head, hesitating for a moment before doing so.
The two stood in silence for a few moments. Timaeus could sense something wrong with his brother, his sadness and fear easily noticeable for him. Atreus on the other hand, could tell that something was bothering his older brother, and he had a clue as to why. The archer didn't mention it, though, as he himself was still trying to process what he just did earlier.
"Hey, is that a Jötnar Shrine?" Atreus asked as he noticed a wardrobe-like object hidden within the white trees.
"Jötnar Shrine?"
"Father and I found some earlier. They tell the story of some of the giants." Atreus said as he hurried over to it, the swordsman following closely behind. Pulling open the wooden doors of the shrine, Timaeus and Atreus bore witness to the images and runes painted into the wood.
The first painting is of a man surrounded by the bodies of fallen Jötnar, mourning the loss of friends or family.
The second painting is of the same man, only this time he was in a forge with a dwarf. With the latter forging a sword while the former brought materials to be used for the weapon.
The third and final painting shows the man, now wielding the sword. Only he's not alone nor with the dwarf. He's facing Thor, the God of Thunder, in a ruined landscape. His blade clashing against Mjölnir, neither warrior backing down in the face of death.
"Look, there's Thor! But who's he fighting?" Atreus asked as he pulled out his journal. "It says his name is… Þrívaldi."
"He's seeking revenge for the fallen Jötnar, but is there more to the story?" Timaeus wondered as he wrote in his own journal. "And the dwarf who crafted his sword is named Úri."
"Must be some sword. It's holding its own against Mjölnir!"
Hearing those words leave Atreus' mouth, Timaeus began to focus on the second and third painting. More specifically, on the sword. It was large, obviously a greatsword. It stood nearly as tall as Þrívaldi, with a rather large hilt and strange blade shape. Turning his attention to the second painting, it looked like Þrívaldi was dragging a bag of scales and wings into the forge.
"What kind of magic was used to force it?" Timaeus wondered, "Scales and wings…"
Some time had passed since Brok began enhancing their weapons, and the dwarf had even crafted better armor for them. Timaeus was now wearing a dark tunic with a pair of three section leather pauldrons reinforced with wolf fur, with a piece of steel attached to the parts closest to his neck, and are held to him by a pair of belts fashioned in an X-shape. A pair of studded leather bracers that are also reinforced with wolf fur. A thicker leather belt is wrapped around his waist, with his red waist scarf underneath, and his pouch along with a new knife is hilted onto his side. Instead of the wolf fur skirt he wore before, it's been replaced with a norse leather skirt like that of his father and brother. His two scarves, and his pants and boots, were all that remained of his previous outfit.
In Timaeus' opinion, he looked like his father, something his mother always told him growing up. Reaching up, the swordsman touched the yellow scarf his mother gave him. Despite everything the teen had been through, he still couldn't believe she was really gone.
"Now don't you look all like proper fighters." Brok said, pulling the teen from his thoughts. "But y'all can't be fighters without weapons."
The dwarf then threw the enhanced Talon Bow and Leviathan Axe at Atreus and Kratos respectively. With a grunt, Brok lifted Balmung into the air and layed it onto the wooden table. The dull black metal of the blade now shined brighter, and the runes were now more noticeable. The guard and hilt are now a newer shade of silver, and the old leather wraps were now replaced with a solid black piece of leather.
"It took me a bit to work on your blade, wanted to make sure I didn't wreck her beyond fixin'." Brok said as the swordsman reached down and grabbed his weapon. "That old coot infused it with draconic lightning! I almost couldn't believe it."
"Draconic lightning?" Timaeus asked as he inspected the blade, seeing his own reflection in the metal.
"Us dwarves have plenty of tricks to forge weapons and armor, and infusing things into 'em is one of them." Brok explained to the swordsman. "And by the looks of it, he infused her with the thundering roars of five lightning dragons."
Upon hearing that, something clicked in Timaeus' mind. Thinking back to the Jötnar Shine, and back to Úri. Þrívaldi was bringing the dwarf scales and wings, dragon scales and wings. The powerful yellow lightning that Balmung released from itself. It finally all made sense.
Balmung was forged by Úri for the giant Þrívaldi, who used it against Thor, and was passed down to his mother, who then passed it down to Timaeus himself.
That was one question answered, but even more were left in its place. Why did Þrívaldi give his mother Balmung? How did they know each other? Why didn't she say she knew a giant? Why pass the sword down to him? What happened to Þrívaldi? Was he seeking revenge? Why did Úri agree to forge Balmung for him? What happened to Úri?
These were questions Timaeus didn't have the answer for, and he didn't know how long until he found them.
BOOM! EXPLOSION! OTHER LOUD SOUND HERE!
I finished chapter four, and it took a while because I've been busy all month with work. They've been switching up my hours at work, and one of my coworkers quit and we just got a new employee the day after. So I'm being put to work at odd hours, but I got this chapter out of the way!
Anyways! This chapter was really to just get some questions out of the way. Like who forged Balmung, why it uses yellow colored lightning, etc. Not to mention Pandora, one of the best characters in the franchise. And you all read that right, she unlocked a small spark of hope and that's how he survived being stabbed with his own sword by Baldur.
Speaking of which, I don't think I ever mentioned what I based the sword off of. Basically Balmung's whole look is based on the Iron Blade from the Final Fantasy VII Remake. My personal favorite weapon design wise. I know some people didn't like Timaeus having an oversized sword, but I wanted it to symbolize his growth. Like Atreus needing to grow into the Talon Bow, Balmung is meant to symbolize Timaeus' own growth, not just physically but mentally.
Back to Pandora, she confirmed that (in this story) Kratos still has remnants of the Power of Hope deep within him, and he passed embers of it down to his children. Timaeus had a small spark awakened by Pandora to save his life, but it's up to him to fully awaken it. The same is for Kratos and Atreus, they have it within them, but need to awaken it. Or reawaken it in the former's case.
I also hope you all like how I wrote Pandora into this story. The whole ordeal that only Timaeus can see her will play into how I planned everything out in this story. Just be patient please.
Anyways! Any questions or comments? Leave a review or PM me! This has been Draak D. Sol, and I'll see you all next time.
