Gudrun and I went on for another few hours, taking a few breaks here and there to have a drink or two. My stamina as a God seemed limitless, leading her to eventually be the one to call it quits. Despite being able to continue, I was tired from the days events, and wished to sleep. So, after another mug of ale, and a quick conversation we went to sleep. The next morning, she woke me up with breakfast, and ale.
"Is it common to have a mug of ale with breakfast?"
"Of course. At least one mug of ale with each meal is common. Oh, I have something for you." Having finished our meal and heading towards the front of her store, Gudrun stops and picks up a chest against the back wall. Placing it on the table while I'm left wondering what's inside.
"Is that a chest of gold?" I innocently ask. I mean, who from Midgard would see an old wooden chest that looked to come straight out of a fantasy movie, and not think there was treasure.
"Thor was never known to be all that funny." She giggles. "It's what we discussed yesterday when we first met."
"Oh? You actually made them?" She nods at my query.
"Yes. After everything that happened yesterday in the market, I felt that I should keep my word, since you seemed likely to keep yours. I was hoping that the gesture would be a sign of good will, and that it would serve as a reminder for you in the coming days. Just in case you feel like the old... you." I slowly nod in understanding.
Gudrun opens the chest she had placed the clothing in, pulls each article of clothing out, and places them on the table. Laid out before me is a pair of black pants, that surprisingly had pockets. A pair of burgundy leather boots with leather straps. A pristine, burgundy, short-sleeve, cloth tunic, with a silver inlay around the collar. A dark brown belt, and a black, leather jacket, with silver threading used to make the tree of life on the back. The leather seemed thinner and less restrictive then the leather jacket I left at my mother's place. Next out of the chest is a dark blue cloak, with the top being lined with grey fur. Then, black hand wraps, and a necklace with the rune for strength carved into a stone pendant.
"Wow. You managed all this in one day? Brok stated he'd be able to finish my armour and weapon in a day as well. Although, he claimed he had already started on them prior to us getting here. He was just making adjustments to factor in my size, and likely my strength." Gudrun hummed at this as she beckoned for me to stand in front of her, and began to help me dress.
"I spent all day after you left the market working on this. I had already come up with the design, and I had some projects I was working on that I altered for these particular pieces. Besides, there are no enchantments. If I had to start from scratch it would have taken me four days, maybe six if I didn't have the materials already on hand and needed to hunt. As for Brok... well Tyr showed up a week ago, so maybe what Tyr was getting made for him, they are altering for you."
"Hmm." Something about that seemed weird, but I decided to leave that as a question for later.
"Now hold still, I'm trying to-"
"I don't need you to dress me." I state exasperated. She giggles with a smirk.
"You ever wear clothes like these before?"
"It's a pair of pants, boots, a shirt, jacket, and cloak. I can honestly say I've never worn a cloak before, but I think all of it is straight forward." She huffed and crossed her arms. "Just admit you want to keep touching me and I'll let you."
A grin spread across her face as she moved her hands to grasp me, causing me to catch my breath in my throat.
"I suppose I'm not going anywhere just yet."
xxx
Finally dressed and stepping out of Gudrun's shop, I wave goodbye as she closes the door behind me. Taking a moment, I breath in the morning air and stretch my muscles. Laying with the Dwarven maiden was a light work out on it's own. One I thoroughly enjoyed. Giving my virginity to a large Dwarf was icing on the cake.
"There you are." I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear Tyr address me from my left. Turning toward him, I see that he's leaning against a support beam for the overhang outside of Gudrun's shop. His attire is slightly different. Before, where he was wearing mostly leathers, he now is wearing armour. Greyish-blue with red touches here and there. Large pauldrons on his shoulders, and his chest plate has a large red gemstone in the centre, matching the one in his belt. The colour also matches his sword on his back. It's blades edge is red, while the centre is some kind of metal. He is wearing a waste cloak that is black and brown with white fur lining, and his leather boots have been swapped out for armoured boots. His leather gloved hand now had a gauntlet covering it. The only thing that remained the same was his wolf head on his left wrist. It's red eyes ever so slightly glowing, just like the stones on his armour, and his blade.
"I see you've met the owner of... 'The Bodacious Boutique'? Huh. She is a creative one."
"Yeah. She's nice." He snorts before pushing off from the support beam.
"Let's go." I wish to push him further on his knowledge of the Dwarven Maiden I laid with the night before, but other questions come to mind. I'm sure he'll answer neither. As he seems to be adamant to keep me as ignorant as possible.
"So you were here last week."
"So what if I was?" He says dismissively.
"Makes a guy wonder. Did you already know where I was?" Tyr tilts his head in my direction as we continue walking through the market to Brok's smithy.
"I didn't. At least, I wasn't sure."
"So you did come here to order my gear last week." Tyr sighs.
"Are you going to make your point, brother? I tire of the wait."
"There are pieces that aren't fitting together. Gaps of information that is making all of... this, hard to swallow." He remains silent for a moment, and I am quickly becoming agitated with his refusal on speaking to me directly. "I could always just ask Brok. He seems to be keen on telling the truth." Tyr stops and turns to face me abruptly.
"Do you want to live up to that promise you made to these Dwarves? Follow through on the message you so boldly delivered in the middle of the market square? For all the Realms to eventually hear?" I nod with a firm determination. He smiles. "Then stop chattering in my ear about your presumptions and suspicions. I promise all will be revealed in time, but we have to focus on the task before us." I sigh, thinking of Vanaheim and how the realm is still in dire need of our aid.
"Fine. For now I shall hold my tongue. I will begin annoying you with questions sooner rather then later." He slowly shakes his head in mock disappointment. Before turning away from me. "What? It's what younger brothers do."
"No it isn't."
"Yes it is." I hear a growl as I chuckle at Tyr's agitation, and continue to follow him to Brok's.
"Well it took you long enough!" Brok shouts from his table.
"Good morning Brok." I call as I stride up to his table.
"So, you finally done boning Gudrun?" I nearly trip on my own feet when I hear him call out my sexcapades from the night prior... and I suppose this morning. "Don't look so surprised, kid. Y'all weren't that quiet last night."
"Dwarves do have quite the lungs on them. Especially the giant ones." Tyr muses. I can only feel embarrassment as I realize I may have given the woman a reputation.
"I hope the village doesn't hate her." I mutter. Brok shrugs.
"Why would they? She ain't married. Not since her late husband died in battle."
"I didn't even know."
"You're head full of lead or somethin'? Why would anybody want to talk about their dead spouse when they are about to have a good romp in the sack?"
"Gods, can we change the subject?" My cheeks are flushed, never having sex before, I have also never had to deal with the walk of shame, or the idea that anybody heard us.
"Yeah, yeah. You youngsters are always in such a hurry." Brok reaches under his table and begins tossing pieces of armour onto the table. I admire the pieces as I begin to put them on, with Brok and Tyr's help.
The plate looks similar to Tyr's, only my armour's primary and secondary colours were Black and dark blue, with silver as a tertiary colour for accents. There is a breast plate, two pauldrons, the one for my right shoulder being larger, more square in the front. The front of my shoulder would be protected by a black plate with the rune for 'Thunder' etched into it, and has a layer of silver being used to frame the plate. Bluish-silver strips of metal are attached to the frame and flared out over the side, top and back of my shoulder, even going low enough to protect some of my right upper arm. I'm not sure how many layers were used, but it looks pretty damn cool for a design. The left one is a rounder piece, a bit smaller, with a simple Norse design embossed in silver. There is a vambrace for my left arm that is mostly leather, with a thick piece of metal covering the majority of my forearm, leaving my black leather wrapped hand exposed. My right hand has a gauntlet that covers the entirety of my forearm and wrist, as well as covering my hand, just past the first set of knuckles. On the outside of my forearm is the rune for strength, etched into the armour. A fault protected my crotch and thighs with segmented tassets. The metal for these were black with silver lining. I had a pair of black and silver boots, with greaves matching the same colour scheme. They reached up to just under my knees, before segmenting to a piece for knee guards.
"There you are. Now you look like a proper warrior." Tyr remarks as he and Brok step away from me. I was able to wear everything over my regular clothes, save for the boots. My cloak was able to cover my armour entirely, and then be pushed back to reveal my battle ready attire.
"If the armour is this cool, than what's the weapon going to be like?" Brok snorts in response.
"Hold your horses, kid. Let me explain the enchantments before you make a mess of your pants."
"Oh, right! Enchantments." I am giddy with the idea that I had magic empowerment in my equipment.
"Yeah, so first and foremost, taking armour on and off is a pain in the ass. It took us nearly five minutes to get it on you, but we're experienced veterans. If you had done it yourself, you probably would have taken thirty minutes, or longer. So, to save you the trouble, you have an auto-don enchantment on this fine gear of yours. If you would draw your attention to the left vambrace..." I lift my arm and look at the piece of equipment. "...you'll notice that there is a rune etched into the plate. This allows you to will your armour onto your person. I also made it so the first set of clothes yer wearing while activating the enchantment for the first time will also be locked to said enchantment. Meaning you can walk around in Midgard clothes, naked, or what have you, and then will your current clothing and armour onto your person. Go ahead and try it." I do as Brok tells me, though I have no idea how you will an enchantment to work.
I simply think of switching out of my armour, hoping that will suffice, and supposedly it does. A spark of electricity crackles from the rune, and a blue hue covers my body as my armour, clothes, and cloak, disappear completely, save for my left vambrace, which turns into a simple, smaller, leather cover with fur lining and studs all around the material. I can see the runes for "Battle" are etched into each stud, and I realize that this one piece of equipment is all I need to carry around with me in order to have my armour at all times... then I hear the gasps and giggles from the people in the market, before I realize that I've been left completely naked. Instantly I will my armour and clothing back onto my person, and grumble.
"Haahaha! You fell for the oldest trick in Nidavellir!" Brok and Tyr crack up at my expense, and I vow I'll get them back one day.
"Can I have my axe now so I can cut you both down for that?" I jokingly threaten. Brok nods his head as he moves around the table.
"The other enchantment I've placed on that there gear of yours is one that will hopefully help you channel your powers. Namely the ones involving the weather. As Tyr told me, you've been experiencing trouble controlling the elements. Something about drastic shifts in weather, leading to harsh wind storms, thunder storms, rain storms... I mean it's no surprise. Seeing what you're the God of and all that." I felt a sense of relief and immense gratitude towards Brok and Tyr for that particular enchantment.
"Words can't express how grateful I am for-"
"Yeah yeah. No need to get all mushy." Brok dips under his table again and pops up with the battle-axe. I balk at the blades size. It's much larger than the one he gave me as a loaner. The handle was about the same though, albeit curved, with leather wrapped around the majority of it. Allowing for it to be wielded both with one or two hands, comfortably. I whistle in appreciation for it's craftsmanship. The handle is brown leather with a silver pommel, and a silver relief of the rune for 'Bear', where the handle and blade meet.
"That's a beauty." I grab the axe and lift it with ease. As I do, I feel my power course through me and the weapon, causing it to spark briefly. This startles me and I place it down gently. "What was that?"
"I call this baby Jarnbjorn." Brok exclaims with a look of pride.
"Iron Bear?" Tyr questions.
"Bears are tough, fierce, and large. Thor is these things, so he'll need a weapon to match. Until he can lift his hammer again."
"So why did it spark?" I ask.
"I placed two enchantments on this axe for two reasons. First off, if a cocklump as large as you breaks this thing on the first swing, it would be no good for anybody. My reputation matters to me, so I made sure it'll survive the strongest being in the Nine realms swinging it at anything. This means it will likely cut through most anything. Save Nth Metal, and anything I ain't never heard of. Oh and that nut-job Baldur."
"That goes without saying." Tyr responds. Questions for later.
"The second enchantment is for the same reason I enchanted your armour with weather manipulation capabilities, albeit weaker ones than you are capable of at full strength. Where your armour will help you control storms, winds, yadda yadda, Jarnbjorn there will let you channel your lightning into the blade. Now, based on your response to picking up the axe and being startled by your power flowing through it, I imagine you ain't comfortable picking it up again."
"Not particularly."
"Well that's too damn bad! Both your armour and your axe have been carefully crafted to help your sorry ass learn how to control your powers. They will act as restraints if you start to lose control, but if you have focus and discipline, then you can use your abilities to their full extent. You'll get there... Eventually."
"That's a relief, actually. I am in your debt, Brokkr Huldra." I reach down and grab the axe again, allowing my power to connect with the weapon.
"Don't mention it, kid. Just set things right."
"I will." I am not certain I can, but I know I'll do everything in my power to at least try and make things better. Brok grins at my determined vow, before turning away from us and picking up his smithing tools.
"Alright, no loitering! Get the hell out of here you sons of bitches! You got work to do!"
"Heimdall! Send us to Vanaheim!" We don't hesitate as the Bifrost opens before us, stepping onto the bridge and through the gateway.
"So what's Vanaheim like? Is it anything akin to how Midgard describes it."
"And then some. The lush realm of Vanaheim is as varied as the gods and creatures that call it home. Whether canoeing down one of its many serene rivers or strolling the sun-dappled trails of its verdant rainforests, the land of the Vanir will make the heart of any true adventurer beat like a war drum. However, be prepared for high humidity and temperamental wild life."
"Dangerous animals?" Tyr nods his head.
"Yes, however it's not just the fauna you should be wary of. Just remember. A flower may be beautiful, but that doesn't mean it won't try to kill you."
"That's cool." Tyr looks back at me like I have two heads. I simply grin in response. "Admittedly, I've always dreamt about leaving the relative safety of whatever new home my mother has found us so I can explore and go on adventures myself. Now I'm actually doing it." Tyr smiles before turning back ahead of him.
"Well there will be plenty of adventure to be had, should you prove brave enough to continue forward when facing true adversity." As he finishes his sentence, we cross the second gateway. Stepping off of the bridge, and into the cloud covered sky, and sickly looking land of the Vanir.
"By Odin's beard!"
"What happened?" Tyr's depiction of Vanaheim is slightly off from what I can see. The lush forests seem to be dying, and the grass has turned brown.
"I do not know." The Bifrost closes behind me, and we only make it about five feet out before the earth below us begins to quake. Tyr immediately draws his large sword from his back, and I ready my axe, nervous about whether or not I'm ready to consciously kill something in self defence.
"What is that?"
"Sounds like-"
"RAAAGH!"
"-Elgfrodi!" From the dead wood around us come three centaur creatures. The top half being human with antlers, and the bottom half being elk or deer. Charging us from the woods, one was holding a bow, while two others were holding spears. "Watch out!"
"ᛁᚾᛏᚱᚢᛞᛖᚱᛋ ᛁᚾ ᛏᚺᛖ ᚹᛟᛟᛞᛋ!" One of them shouted.
"ᚴᛁᛚᛚ the trespassers!" Their language becomes known to me shortly after hearing it, as all the others do. The All-Tongue I suppose is less a language itself, but the ability to understand all languages.
"Death to all that invade Vanaheim!" I notice Tyr's sword change it's shape into that of a Spear. The tip glowing red as he braced for his opponent.
They are fast. Giving me almost no time to defend myself from the arrow loosed by the one with the bow. Catching the arrow with my hand, snapping it in half with how fast and hard I grabbed it, I toss it to the ground, just as the guy with the spear reaches me. The Elgfrodi charging me goes to stab me with his spear, cutting my left cheek, before I quickly pull away. I try to swing at it with my axe, but the distance I had made to avoid having the spear going into my head, put me out of range. Now that it's drawn blood, I am more wary of my opponent.
My newly heightened senses seem to be even more attuned to my surroundings. Possibly a result of the adrenaline of battle, maybe something as of yet unmentioned about my armour, or my powers are growing by the day. Either way, I can hear another arrow being fired in my direction. I side step, hoping the arrow will hit the Elgfrodi in front of me, but he swats it away with his spear. Despite the clear opening that should have made, I hesitate to charge in and cleave the creature in half. My body's tense yet shaky. Am I really doing this? Am I really a warrior god about to fight and kill a bunch of people to save a realm?
"Thor! What are you doing?! FIGHT!" Tyr's roar comes from behind me as the Elgfrodi with the spear reaches striking distance. As he does, my breathing becomes ragged, and the sky darkens. Thunder rumbles through the woods, causing the Elgfrodi to become distracted with concern. A level of fear I wasn't expecting flashes across his face as he stops mid thrust to look to the sky. I can feel myself succumbing to my emotions. I have to do something. Lifting my axe I prepare to attack... but my anger and my self-doubt are winding together into a knot of inaction. Why am I not swinging my axe? I have to swing my axe!
"Thor?" The Elgfrodi mutters. He looks down to me, his eyes wide, and lowering his spear in disbelief. I am confused, and his fear and anger amplifies as he rips his spear up in a ready position again... except he's backing away from me. So, I lower my axe. As I stare in disbelief that our little exchange didn't end in bloodshed, I feel a force slam into my back, knocking me forward. I nearly fall face first, but manage to maintain my balance. The pain of being kicked isn't all too bad, my armour and unnatural resilience absorbing the blow, but the shock and sudden acknowledgement that I am being ambushed puts me into a state of desperation. When it comes to flight, fight, or freeze, fight always wants to win out, and I always try to resist. At least, against humans I have. These things don't seem to be so fragile, and intend on killing us.
The creature in front of me tries to follow up on his friends attack by thrusting his spear at me. Despite having been off balance for a moment, I slip his attack, allowing the spear to sail past my head and through my hair. Taking Jarnbjorn with both my hands I move for a wide horizontal slash, step in towards the creature, and swing forward with all my might.
"RAAAAAH!" I roar through the fear instilled in me, keeping me from striking out with full force against my opponents, and Jarnbjorn becomes wreathed in lightning. The flash of brilliant blue light causes the already terrified Elgfrodi to wince from the bright flash. He tries to move out of the way, but it is too late. The horror in his eyes as I cleave his human body from his deer half will haunt me forever.
Blood sprays from the Elgfrodi's torso as I cleave him in half. Much of it is incinerated by the lightning around my axe, but a good amount splashes my armour, face, beard, and hair. The force I used to chop the creature in half causes the lower deer body to be knocked over with a fleshy thud, followed by the squelching of liquid jettisoning out from the arteries. His top half pops up a bit as it tilts to the right, and tumbles through the air before hitting the ground with the same fleshy thud. The blood pools on the ground rapidly... There's so much blood... The intestines spilling out of both ends... the bone fragments... he's still moving... and his bottom half is twitching...
"Asger!" The agonized cry from behind me sounds like it's coming from a younger member of his kind. These things are not just creatures. They are people. I just murdered one of their loved ones... I... there's so much blood.
I puke.
"Odin's beard! You're worse than I thought!" Tyr's half-concerned, and half-mocking tone, pierces my ears like a knife, causing me to wince in rage.
"WE'LL KILL YOU!" The enraged roar comes from right behind me, and I barely spin around in time to see the other spearman charging me.
"Wait! I-"
"Don't you dare yield!" Tyr rages. "You will not disgrace yourself like that! It is dishonourable to-OOF!" Tyr gets kicked to the ground by the bowman who has moved in with a long sword. The Elgfrodi that is charging me means to take my life. I regret killing his friend, but I don't want to die. I just wish we could have done this differently.
I don't want to be a destroyer.
"DIE! WHORESON!" As guilty as I feel about killing the Elgfrodi, I have to put it aside for now. I only just started this journey, and I have to see it to the end.
The spearman aims for my throat, and I feel my muscles move almost as if I've done this a thousand times. I use Jarnbjorn, this time not coated with my power, to chop the handle of the spear, while simultaneously cleaving one of his arms clean off. He cries in pain, but rears back to kick me again. Almost as if it is the most natural thing to do, my left hand shoots out and grabs the front left leg. My opponent gasps in shock as I proceed to swing him by his leg, spinning to my right, and slamming him into a tree. Though likely sturdier than humans, the Elgfrodi are still fragile in comparison to me or Tyr. When his body hit's the tree, I hear a sickening crunch, followed by the grotesque sound of flesh and organs tearing apart by force, as his insides become scrambled. His lungs popped, and he couldn't scream now that he had no air to help produce the sound. His features twisted in agony and scorn. He hates me, and I don't blame him. I can't bear to watch him suffer a long death, so I take my axe, and drive it through his skull, ending him instantly.
"Noo!" The youngest member's anguished cries for his loved ones breaks my heart. I tilt my head in his direction, and my scowl becomes a saddened frown. The Elgfrodi is kneeling, battered, bruised, and cut up. He put up the best fight out of all of them. Maybe he is special. Although, Tyr doesn't have any wounds, and his armour isn't even scuffed where he was kicked.
"What is your name boy." Tyr speaks. He is wielding his sword again, though the blade was blue now, as were the gems in his armour and wolf head.
"What do you care?" The young Elgfrodi snaps. "No Asgardian has ever cared about us."
"I would know the names of the warriors I have slain. So the skalds can sing about your bravery."
"I care not for skalds and their eloquence. You killed my kin. My only remaining kin." Tyr's default grimace briefly is replaced by remorse.
"I have no interest in eradicating a bloodline, Tyr. Let him go." The Elgfrodi laughs mirthlessly at my attempt at mercy.
"For what? I'm useless now. Look at my legs." I do as I'm asked, and I can see that Tyr has slashed up the Elgfrodi pretty badly, but one of his legs is mangled. My heart sinks as I somehow know that he is crippled for life. "I can't run. Vanaheim wasn't the safest place before it's corruption. Now, I will only be easy pickings for... Go see for your self." The Elgfrodi attempts to lunge at Tyr, but stumbles while trying to get up. His sword swing is sloppy, and Tyr simply parries the attack with his sword, before decapitating the boy.
Watching his head descend to the ground, the defeated look on his face, and his eyes darting left to right, I become filled with remorse and guilt. I barely notice Tyr saunter towards me as I look among the dead, realizing they were all young. Barely any older than me. Tears form in my eyes, threatening to spill over, when a sudden stinging in my cheek draws me from my spiral into unrequited guilt, attempting to figure out what just happened. I notice that Tyr's arm is extended briefly, but already retracting back to his side.
"Did you just slap me?" I ask, befuddled.
"Have you lost your mind? You ever try to yield like that again and I'll run you through myself, Thor." Now I'm angry.
"We just murdered a family of three and for what?! They could barely do anything to us! Taking a life against it's will is wrong!"
"You have lived among feeble and defenceless Midgardians your whole life Thor! Sheltered by your doting mother! Well she is not here! Can you not see that the Elgfrodi are far from incapable warriors! If you pick up a weapon and fight to destroy others, than you are accepting the very real possibility of being cut down in battle! You killed the oldest! Then tried to yield! Killing somebody and then throwing your weapon down to beg for peace is not just dishonourable, Thor! It's pathetic and an insult! Not only to the life you took, but to his comrades that wish to challenge you in honour of their fallen! You were disrespecting them! You were spitting on the efforts of your enemies! Disregarding their right to at least attempt what they believe is Justice!" My frustration and guilt become muddled, making way for disorientation of my morals and everything my mother taught me growing up. Norse mythology and the culture involving vikings and the Norse Pantheon always revolved around more than just prophecies about the end times. Some divine laws about hospitality, fighting honourably, keeping oaths, and being faithful to your chosen partners. Suppose those last two sort of get lumped together when you think about it. Thinking about it from another angle, I can see where Tyr is coming from. Killing someone and hoping to be shown clemency, even if you didn't want to kill them in the first place, is asinine.
"They still didn't deserve to die. They probably only attacked us because of what's happening here. Thought we were involved, or-" Tyr makes a noise between groaning, growling, and yelling, as he grabs me roughly by my shoulders, a snarl on his face. He looks like he is about to say something, but hesitates, and his face slowly loses it's edge as he looks me in the eye. Before returning fully to his near apathetic stoicism.
"Our mission isn't for the faint of heart, and the road we walk is no place for a naive boy. On our journey, we will be attacked by all manner of creature. Close your heart to their desperation. Close your heart to their suffering. Do not allow yourself to feel for them. They will not feel for you." His tone is firm, but not abrasive. His words are cold, but his eyes tell me he feels something. Is this the struggle of the God of War and Justice?
"We just killed a family. Three brothers. That could have been us." Tyr grunts in annoyance.
"It wasn't. It won't be. So long as you keep your head, and kill when it is necessary. Only, when it is necessary. Take solace that they were warriors, and fought to the end. If they do not end up in Valhalla, they will likely end up in Freya's hall, Sessrumnir. Most Vanir prefer that anyway." He lets go of my arms, and stares at me, obviously concerned about whether or not I'm ready for this. Or maybe he's disappointed that I'm not the Thor he once knew. Thought that was the whole point though.
"I am not a destroyer. Nor am I a sadist." Doubt clouded my mind. Something in me knew Tyr is speaking some truth. But my mother's voice remained in the back of my head, reprimanding me for losing control. For volunteering to champion a weaker kid at school. For catching that car that was going to hit a child and her family's dog at a crosswalk.
"I can see your struggle, brother. You enjoyed being able to fight, even if you won't admit it to yourself. You worry you may become a monster if you give in."
"How-"
"It's a burden all warrior's must face. You want to survive, correct?" I nod. "Then listen to me, and listen well, brother. Revel in the battle. The challenge. Remember you are testing your mettle, your spirit, your skills, every time you face a new enemy. This will keep you from praying on the weak, seeking only to fight capable opponents. Inevitably, you will have the strength to fight most opponents without having to kill them, for they will pose no threat to you, but if they pose a threat to others, you will have to consider their deaths with the utmost care. Second; respect your opponent, and yourself, by fighting honourably. Don't go starting wars over nothing. You want to test the strength of a warrior from another realm, or even a god from another pantheon, just ask them. Some are more likely to oblige than others. Lastly, you do not have to enjoy the slaughter. The brutality. As you can already see from your first battle, it is almost unavoidable, and you will partake, but you don't have to revel in it. In fact, you shouldn't. Besides. You showed your second opponent mercy. Letting him suffer would have been cruel. I'm glad you were able to make that decision on your own." I hang onto every word. As torn as I am about this outcome, my brother's words are easing my conscience.
He isn't giving me a pass to cruelty and violence, he's letting me know it's okay to fight for my life. For the lives of others, even if it means sometimes taking life. So long as they are warriors, fighters, and not the non-combatants incapable of defending themselves. Things I kind of thought I understood already.
"Clearly, I have much to learn in the ways of battle and war." Tyr nodded.
"Indeed. That is what older brothers are for, is it not? Not to mention I'm the God of War. I should be the one to teach you about battle etiquette, honour in combat, and other such things."
"True. I suppose I'll follow your lead then." Tyr laughed.
"It was rare for you to say that before-... ah well, never mind that for now. Next lesson. Know when to disobey orders. You may think that-" Tyr has begun walking away from the scene of our battle, when I interrupt him.
"Uh, Tyr? Shouldn't we bury the bodies?" Tyr stops to turn back towards me.
"The Elgfrodi actually prefer leaving their dead for the wilderness to retak-LOOK OUT!" Being completely focused on Tyr, I almost miss it. Just as he warns me, a twig from behind me snaps, and I can hear something rushing me.
Diving to the side, I do a roll, and scramble to my feet. Looking over to where I was just standing, I see the Elgfrodi I had slammed into the tree, walking on it's own, despite the opening in it's head. It's skin has become sickly, and it's eyes are glowing a deep rose-red colour. It stares at me as I ready my axe again. Tyr's words renewing my confidence, but also the fact this thing isn't actually alive, makes it easier for me to destroy with impunity.
"Draugr!" Tyr yells. I look around and notice that an assortment of undead from bipedal Vanir, to the Elgfrodi, are stumbling out of the woods. Tyr gets close to me and we go back to back.
"There are so many of them!" My anxiousness is getting the better of me. One, or even a handful of undead would have been fine, but over a dozen? "Where did they all come from?"
"I do not know. They... Valkyries should have collected their souls and... something's not right."
"Clearly."
"Never mind that now. Focus on their destruction. The Undead are an a front to the fallen and their noble sacrifices. Our opponents, and those that died in these woods, deserve rest. Whoever is defiling them like this will be on their knees by the time this is all over."
"I am in agreement. Justice, will be brought down on them. Whoever they are." Tyr laughs as I hear his sword shift again.
"Now you're talking, brother! Come! Let us return these Vanir to their well earned slumber!"
Tyr and I launch our assault on the horde as thunder roars along with us.