"You will need me in what's to come? You didn't have anything better to say?" The siblings laughed.
I roll my eyes at their antics. Had I known they would act like this, I might have left with a cool one-liner. 'He who walks among the mountain tops will be your savior!' I could have proclaimed. But alas, I said what I said. And now I'm getting belittled by the oh-so-wonderful children of Njord.
"Isn't there anything else for you two to do?" I wonder aloud.
"Oh little brother, how you wound me! How could you not want to see your loving brother?" My brother dramatically exclaimed with an undignified huff.
"You wouldn't know loving if it was tattooed on your face, Freyr!" I said with a jovial grin.
"Don't mind our idiot brother's antics, Perseus." Freya calmly said, ignoring Freyr's indignant shout "Hey!"
"What did Mother even send you to hunt a Greek monster for anyway?"
"I'm sorry, Systkin. Tyr and Meili bade me not to say anything. Not even to you." I say as I see their faces sink in sadness.
"Not yet anyway," I say, immediately seeing their faces light up.
"Where are mother and father? I need to show them my trophy." I ask.
"They are at the hlið heimili. Father just came back from one of his meetings." Freyr says, becoming more serious than I've seen him in a long time.
"It's happening soon, isn't it, bróðir?" He asks.
"Yes, Freyr. The time is coming soon." I say, standing up and grabbing their wrists.
"Fear not, sammœðr. We will face the oncoming storm together. As always." I say.
And of that I am certain. For hundreds of moons, we have stood together against those who stand against balance. And for thousands more, we will continue to do so.
"The good king, the Valkyrie, and the Hunter have always been a legendary trifecta in the nine realms," Freyr says with his glowing sword in hand.
"We have fought and bled for those unable to defend themselves," Freya said, Thrungva extended high in the air.
"And now, we set our sights on broader horizons". I say, þráðr vefa heaved on my shoulder.
"Mother, Father, I have returned. The creature has been slain, his trophy secured. And the veiði-kona goes for Olympus. There she will ask the þruma leggja for answers." I tell them with my head bowed. They may be my parents, but it can never hurt to be respectful. Especially with what I'm going to ask them.
"Rise my son, it's unbefitting of a son to bow to his parents." My mother says with an eye roll. I look up at their faces. In front of me stand the lord of the seas and the queen of the hunt.
Two sets of eyes stare at me. So different, yet so alike.
One is blue, like the deepest parts of the sea. The place where trenches dot the ground. A place where unimaginable horrors lurk. Yet, there is something good. As if you'll find solace and safety if you just look in his eyes.
The other is something more. Something ancient. A deep white, quite akin to the view from your window on a snowy Yule morning. These too hold something dangerous, as if they look through your soul. As if they see things that you don't even know about yourself.
But both have one thing in common. All four eyes hold pure love and adoration. For their sons. Their daughter.
"What ails you, my son?" My father asks. His calming presence reassured me that all would be well.
"I fear for what comes. I fear what I cannot stop." I admit, a chill trailing down my spine.
"Waste not your fears on what may not come ástin mín. Fret not over a life not lived." My mother whispers into my ear, her hand falling to rest on my cheek.
"Be still now, little wolf. For as a family, we will thrive." My father says, pulling us into a hug.
"Now, maybe you should ask us what you wanted to ask." My mother says with a knowing grin.
"It's still unfair that you can do that, Mom," I say with an exasperated sigh.
"We share a domain, my son. I know when you are in turmoil." She sighs.
"Share with us your troubles, feilan. Let us help."
Here goes nothing, I think. A troll not shot will always wreak havoc.
"The godling rides for the Mountain. There she will ask her father for guidance." I say as they nod.
"He will tell her the truth. With the Allfather's blessing, I have sent someone who will make sure of it." I say, taking a breath and readying for my request.
"Go on." My father says. A calculating look in his eyes. He was there when the decision was made. Although he was not completely in agreement, he had voted in his son's favor. While as a father he didn't like it, far be it from him to stand in the way of his son's fate.
"The Godling will be captured and a quest would have been sent. Thanks to my interference, this will no longer happen. Instead of the quest I will take my sammœðr to retrieve her. This will be crucial if the Greeks are to view us as allies." I explain to them.
"But we have friends there, don't we? I know of several gods who would support you." My mother tells me with a puzzled look.
"Not all is as it was, Móðir. Their council is divided. War and petty arguments take their daily toll. Only a rare few gods fulfill their duties. Fewer still try to uphold the fickle balance of peace."
"I see." My mother says with a terse smile.
"You will have your siblings for company then. But it will be your job to keep them safe. They are not as used to the weight of other realms."
"Thank you faðir. Móðir. I will not disappoint you." I say with a grin, already imagining the things I can get Freyr to do for me in return.
"Will you stay for dinner son?" My father says with a hopeful look in his eyes.
"Unfortunately not. I still have one more job to do. But I will be back later this eve."
"And tomorrow, we prepare for war."
And with a flash of snow, I disappear from the compound. Leaving nothing behind but the cold promise of what's to come.
A snowstorm is coming for Greece. A storm that will level mountains and freeze seas.
"What have you brought me, Tracker?" A hulking man asks, standing in front of a pile of corpses.
"Worthless fools, the lot of them." The General says, seeing his companion looking at them.
"They failed to hold the weight of the world." He says, throwing a vile grin in their way.
"Now…" The General growls, a bloodthirsty look marring his scarred face.
"I asked you a question, didn't I? I expect you to answer it."
"Yes, General. Of course." Lelantos fearfully says, with a hasty bow. "I did what you asked. I traced the remnants of his presence. I found a way to follow him. I lost his trace but did find something useful. Something that will inevitably change the tide of the war even more in our favor." The Tracker grinned. An unhinged look in his eyes.
"You failed in your task, Tracker. I'll have to give it to you, you're brave. You failed, and still dare to show your face."
The Tracker shrinks back as the hulking figure of The General towers over him with balled fists.
"But…" The General sighs, with a twisted look in his eyes. "For your bravery, I will give you 1 minute to convince me that you still have your uses. Go ahead, Tracker. Convince me to let you live."
As The General speaks, he pulls a giant broadsword behind his back. A manic grin marries his face.
"I have a dragon!"
The General stops in his tracks.
"You think a Drakon will save your life? Hah! You fool." The General laughs.
"No no, not a Drakon. A dragon. Far more powerful and completely under our control."
The General stares into his eyes. The unspoken demand is clear.
"With this," The Tracker says, holding out a small stone covered in golden markings. "We will have complete and utter control over his mind, body, and soul."
A loud screeching sound whistles through the air as a rift bursts open in the middle of the plateau.
The General takes a step back as a giant black serpent crawls out of the rift. Yet, he doesn't even flinch as the creature roars at him.
"And how prey tell, did you come into the possession of this creature?"
The General asks, stealing the stone from The Tracker's hand, and holding it up to the creature, stopping it in its tracks.
"Did you hunt it yourself?" He chuckles. The mere idea of The Tracker achieving such a feat is laughable.
"I gave it to him." A new voice thunders from the corner of the plateau.
Two men walk out of the shadows cast by the peaks of Orthrys.
Their bodies, littered with tattoos of strange markings exude power.
"A new player has entered the fight. We…," The left one speaks.
"Are here to level the playing field." The right one finishes.
"And why would you fight with us? We do not need two small men like you. We can defeat the Olympians without you." The General, speaks.
"We will not fight for you. We are not here for those minor deities. We are here for the one who supports them."
"And who is this man, who would make the Olympians so powerful?"
"He is the lord of winter. He rides with his pack into the oncoming storm. And for him, the storm parts." Says one.
"And he has something that is ours." The other picks up.
"We are not strong enough to defeat him on our own. But here, in this strange world, where his power has been lessened. Here we might truly stand a chance."
"For even he, doesn't have the power to slay…"
"Níðhöggr."
Systkin = Sister.
hlið heimili = Hill house/Housestead on the hill.
bróðir = Brother.
sammœðr = Siblings.
Thrungva = The sword of Freya. Sparrow's bite.
þráðr vefa = Perseus' axe. Thread weaver.
veiði-kona = Little Huntress.
þruma leggja = Loosely translated, Thunder bringer.
Yule = Christmas.
ástin mín = My love.
feilan = Little wolf/Wolfling.
Móðir = Mother.
faðir = Father.
Happy Sinterklaas to any who celebrate.
A massive thanks to [templarhalo for helping me a lot with this chapter. And to Arkkkk for helping me with the fine-tuning.
Hope you all enjoyed chapter three.
Check out TemplarHalo on AO3.
Check out Arkkkk on Fanfiction,net .
Spartan, signing off.