These Things We've Gained: Eternal Love, Building Hope, Just Honesty

by Tales of Suspense and Drama

In the aftermath of "These Things We've Lost" people strugggle to create a new normal. (Slice of Life)

30. Chapter 30

I would like to sincerely apologize for this mistake. This is the first chapter where my editing and the story itself meet. Due to ADHD brain going 'brrrrrr' I forgot to put in two major plot points to the story. I'm coming up on needing them and don't want them to appear to come out of left field, not when they were in my notes the entire time. To accomplish this I've put another paragraph or two in each chapter starting at chapter one. To find these paragraphs quickly, simply search in the 'Find and edit' function of your browser for 'Always watching' or 'Bjarkiarr '. These will take you to the new paragraphs. I would like to also remind everyone that the story isn't finished yet, but I believe it will be in another few hundred pages. I haven't given up on this project, I hope that you won't either. Once again, I am truly sorry for this rewrite. For those who find in in themselves to stay, I thank you greatly. - Sincerely, TOSAD 29Jan25

- Chapter 30 -

24May2023 – Outside The Bounds Of Time – First Part Of The Day

Vanaheim Royal Palace Guest Chambers

The cup of freshly poured coffee was hot in Lady Sjofn's hand as she held it up to Morgan. It was only moments after he left. She smiled when he took it and downed it in one go. "Did you enjoy m'Lady's library?" Her smile widened a little as she remembered her Lady setting up the Library of Time. She was proud to have assisted her Lady in the endeavor by bringing her books. All of the handmaidens retrieved books from the realms, so that their Lady could make something grand from them.

Yes, very much, he signed. Though the coffee was hot Morgan still chugged it. He hadn't had anything to drink all day, not in the library nor in the fields and forest. There was something that had to come before him sitting down to eat. The letter from Lady Audhumbla came out of his pocket. It was handed over to Rhodey quickly then Morgan sat back down at the table, pouring himself another drink, and getting himself more rump roast, potatoes, and green beans. The last of the bread went into his mouth as well. A grin spread across his face as he ate swiftly. The relaxation in his nerves was wonderful since it wasn't fading. Hunting lesser hunters didn't normally leave a relaxation in his muscles that lasted more than a few minutes. Though he hadn't hunted Thyri, the relaxation was still there from dealing with the black rot on her.

A disappointed sigh left James' lips. Morgan was smiling and relaxed. While he liked seeing his brother comfortable, he also knew what the price of that comfort always was; heroin or violence. The letter was opened with the expectation that Morgan had misbehaved, but that wasn't so. James was surprised to find a short but glowing description of Morgan's visit to the Library of Time, including how she opened a portal for him to go for a walk someplace 'safe'. "I told you not to go for a walk. Why did you leave the library?"

The weight of his older brother's disapproval came down on Morgan. His gaze drifted down to his plate. I…, He halted as he was signing, It's just that… What happened defied words for him. He tried signing again, I mean… Before his walk he wouldn't have been able to say whether he believed that a pure soul existed or not. The other hunters that he came across just disappeared, or were eaten, without showing him their soul. The prey never had a pure soul. It was always tainted. They weren't doing anything, but… He never gave thought to that sort of thing. I didn't know… Morgan stopped his stuttering signing and sighed like his brother had sighed. Choosing to look up then, he met his older brother's gaze and signed, I didn't get into any fights. I did good.

Another little sigh came from James. This sounded like equivocating to him. He stood then and walked around the table to his younger brother. Disappointment was written across his face as he held out his hand. "Show me your walk, please."

A small cringe caused Morgan to lean away from his older brother. He didn't protest though. Instead, Morgan's rust colored orange seidr blazed from his core, remade itself into a Learning Spell which absorbed his memories. Finally, he made the spell into a pearl in the palm of his hand. That pearl was handed over to Rhodey slowly before his seidr crept back into his core. The pearl sent rusty orange runes tracing up his older brother's arm and towards his eyes where they sank in. Rhodey's eyes glowed with the rusty color. Morgan acknowledged that he disobeyed what he was told to do, but still thought that he'd done a good thing by releasing Thyri from the black rot capturing her soul.

From the moment Morgan set foot in the Asgardian farmlands to the moment he stepped through the portal to return to their room, James saw, felt, understood everything that his younger brother had done. He paid close attention to the time his brother spent with Thyri. He especially paid attention to how Morgan was dealing with Thyri's black rot. This still didn't tell him exactly how it was done, but it got him closer to understanding. Worry spilled through his thoughts at the idea that this might enlighten his brothers on their own heritage. He was going to have to show them this, otherwise Morgan probably would. It was best for him to control the spread of it. Worrying as it was, it was also enlightening to him since he still needed to come up with a monster detection system with Anthony. Mostly though, Morgan's interaction with Thyri made him proud. His younger brother had indeed done a good thing by freeing the little girl. When Morgan's rust seidr stopped lighting his eyes he looked down to his younger brother. "You did do a good thing." James bent down to give Morgan a kiss on the top of his head and a strong squeeze on his shoulder. "I'm proud of you," he paused to make sure that he had Morgan's attention, "but I need you to not do that again."

There was a protest coming so James held up his hand to halt it before it happened. "Anthony and I are going to be working on a detection system for beings like Thyri once we're done with our current project. I need those beings to exist so that I can take scans of them."

The signing reaction from Morgan was instantaneous. There are more little hunters? Without Masters? Can we free them too? He didn't like the thought of leaving more children out in the wilds suffering alone.

Freeing trapped souls hadn't been on James' mind when he told Odin and Frey that they needed a detection system. Now that he knew what these creatures truly were he couldn't say no to Morgan. These poor trapped souls needed relief. Besides making him proud of his younger brother's actions, the new information gave him more surety in the thought that his brothers, nieces, and nephews weren't monsters. His brothers were trapped souls too. Knowing that made him wonder if he could find a way to free them as well. James didn't know if he could since, unlike Thyri, his brothers were born as they were. It was still something to investigate quietly. Very quietly, he thought, with Herb's help. "Yes, we'll do everything we can for them."

"Little hunters?" That caught both Arno and Anthony's attention. "What other little hunters? Do they need our help? Can you show me this little hunter?" Arno thought that he and Anthony and Morgan were the last of the hunters left, the last of the Starks. Morgan had mentioned finding hunters on his walks out in the woods or city alleyways. What he described was so weak that he didn't think they were actual hunters, not like he and his brothers were. If there were more actual hunters then he wanted, he needed, to know about them. If they'd been chained as he and his brothers were when they were little, then he wanted to free them. He'd destroy their masters if he had to. He had no problem taking on several masters to free any little hunters that there were.

Worry permeated Anthony's thoughts, dragging them away from his desire to work on his project for Loki. "Yeah, what other hunters? Little hunters? I want to see that too." It wasn't hard for him to decide something that he knew his wife would have uncomfortable questions about. "We can take them in if they need a safe place to go."

I know you want to know more. That's not a good idea though. "That won't be necessary," James unfolded his seidr from his core to mount four copies of the Learning Spell, which absorbed the memories from Morgan that he had. He released the spells to touch the shoulders of Arno, Anthony, Herb, and Lady Sjofn. Only his memories to Herb and Lady Sjofn betrayed his alarm at the boys finding out about their own heritage. Those memories had information that they needed. Garnet seidr runes raced up their necks from to their eyes quickly while James seidr stowed back into his core. They rapidly learned what Morgan had learned, but only Herb and Lady Sjofn truly understood the weighty significance of it.

Neither Arno nor Anthony was comfortable with what they saw. Somehow this prey-child had become a hunter in death, which Morgan then freed from the black rot. No prey-child should have been able to summon the black rot to become a hunter. This wasn't at all how they became hunters. The betrayal was there, but nothing else was. The starvation, the cages, the hunting trips, the degradation, and deprivation; all of it was missing. Most especially missing was the master. Little Thyri didn't look like she had a master. They wondered what that might be like, to have no master, then each of them discarded the thought easily. They did have masters. They were dead masters, yet masters they were still.

A tense silence descended on the room as the boys thought over what they'd seen. Intense relief flooded through Arno's thoughts. "We're the last living hunters."

"Yes," Anthony spoke quietly, "we are." The relief in his quiet voice was just as obvious as Arno's relief. Both of them agreed with the other's relief in thinking that no one else beside them had suffered through having a master and becoming a hunter. Arno already knew that he wouldn't wish that process on any of his enemies. Anthony wanted to say he wished it on Thanos for what he'd done to Loki. He still hesitated away from saying that, or even thinking it.

Herb's gaze darted to James. He found James waiting for him. This was another key piece of information that had to be added to the archives. Flaring out his seidr to James, it whispered, I'll watch the boys, you should go and put that in the archives with Lady Sjofn.

Thank you, I think I will, James flared his seidr to Herb in return then flared it to Lady Sjofn to whisper, I need to go to the archives. "Alright boys, Lady Sjofn and I have an errand that we have to take care of. Herb is going to watch over you, so please be good while I'm gone."

Lady Sjofn flared her sjel-seidr to James, Yes. As she moved around the table her sjel-seidr passed from her core. She commanded it to turn into a Teleportation Spell, which she keyed to James' personal archives. The spell released to bring fuchsia sjel-seidr teleportation fires swirling up around her and James, taking them away.

The teleportation fires faded away and Herb put a calm smile on his face. The boys could never know where James was going or how to get there. Instead, he focused them on other things. "Anthony, you can return to working on your project," then he looked to his husband, "Arno, did you need help working on more of your culinary catalog?"

"Let me clean up the table first. Then I think I need a nap, then I'll get back to working on the catalog." He went to retrieve the dishes but Morgan beat him to it.

The older man started quickly grabbing dishes with food left on them after he'd cleaned his own plate. Dish by dish he shoved the leftover food into his mouth. Morgan was ravenous after dealing with Thyri, so no serving dish was left unscoured. Only when he'd eaten everything that was still set out did he hand the dishes back to his younger brother, neatly stacked up and ready to be cleaned. Damn fine as always Arno, he signed to his younger brother, with the sign for Arno's name being the motion for food with an opening flare at the end of the motion with the right hand.

Golden sands were calling to Morgan. He wanted to work on them, but also wanted to give Arno and Anthony something for themselves. Blazing out of his core, his rusty seidr remade itself into two copies of the Learning Spell and two copies of the Conjuration Spell. Each Learning Spell absorbed different memories from Morgan's time in the library. He released the spells together to create copies of the alchemy books that he found with bits of crystal smithing and engineering in them. His seidr crept back into his core. The book with a few sections on crystal smithing went to Arno while the one with passages on engineering went to Anthony. For himself, Morgan summoned his alchemy notebook from his interdimensional pocket and went over to his workbench. His golden sands were sitting in a large beaker near the burner. It was time to move forward with them.

Curious and excited for the gift, Arno's held the book from Morgan. He wanted to know its contents which was enough to activate the Learning Spell. Cantaloupe orange runes traced up one hand to flow up his skin and into his eyes. A split second before the runes sunk into his eyes he saw Anthony learning from his own new book. Then the book on alchemy that came from crystal smithing spread across his mind to grant him instant understanding. "Hhm, it's like tempering chocolate," Arno muttered to himself. It was interesting enough to pique his curiosity; interesting enough to look into once he was done with his nap.

24May2023 – Outside The Bounds Of Time – Second Part Of The Day

Vanaheim Royal Palace Guest Chambers

The pickled shrimps and onions that Lady Ingalill was munching on were superb, so much so that she was glad to have taken them home to the Grand Temple. All the other Norns were already enjoying the new foods that she and her sister Lady Pirkko were bringing home. The army was practically abuzz with talk of the Midgardian gifts. They were also enjoying the surprisingly delicious offerings of Midgardian brewing such as the pale ales and fruit alcohols that she was taking sips of. Never would she have guessed that brewing could be accomplished without seidr, yet there she was appreciating a Midgardian brew. It wasn't as strong a brew in alcohol as the Elder Realms routinely produced, yet… "Yeast is amazing. This flavor is marvelous."

"It still amazes me that the Elder Realms don't have yeast, since there are so many things that can be done with it." Brewing, distilling, baking, fermenting, chocolatiering, base nutrition, it really was great. It was great enough that only seidr was an adequate replacement for it. Even then, magic still couldn't do everything that yeast could. Herb smiled again as he began packing up the jars of different types of yeast for Lady Ingalill to take back to the Grand Temple with her. She had taught him two new brewing spells that he needed to practice more to gain mastery over them. They were going to produce a very strong beer that he wasn't altogether sure would taste good. Most brews from the Elder Realms were bitingly bitter. They tasted like what an engine cleaner smelled like. It was his opinion that there was a rebalancing that was needed; less alcohol for more flavor.

Across the room from Herb, Anthony sat at his workbench. The bare bones of something more than the rose quartz generator lay on the floor behind him. Half of his mind was occupied reading over the notes from Lady Magnhildr on how well the seidr pen performed. The other half of his mind was busy drawing out sketches for articulated robotic arms with seidr pens at the tips. The current seidr pen was a good place to start, and Lady Magnhildr was very pleased with it. Anthony knew that the current seidr pen wasn't going to do for what they were working on. It was too inflexible to create the flowing patterns of white seidr that were going to be needed. In short, he needed something better, but what? That was the question, that was the problem he was facing. A rumbling in his stomach briefly distracted him.

"You're hungry, Friend. You should eat," the cybernetic hound barked at his friend. His Friend didn't normally listen to him when he told him to get food. That was why he normally ended up getting food for Friend himself. There was no blender and fruit that he could reach to make a smoothie. So he wandered over to the kitchen and barked at his third friend who was making stones instead of food. "Third Friend, Friend needs food now," he barked at the little baker. "Third Friend? Food now?" The cybernetic hound was quietly shoo'ed off. He huffed and wandered back over to his bed.

Over in the kitchenette Arno was working on creating a new type of crystal at the counter. The copies of books that Morgan was bringing to him from the Library of Time were intellectually appealing for him. They piqued his curiosity in ways that weren't normally possible. It was knowledge that was millions of years old and endlessly fascinating to him. The curiosity he felt was driving the new crystal pen that he was working on. The end of the body of the pen had a hand-carved representation of Yggdrasil which was gemmed. The rest of the pen was a smooth swirl down to the nib. It was easy enough to have Morgan carve the pen's body for him. It was the nib of the pen that held his curiosity rapt. It was going to be formed with a seidr diamond solution encasing runed rose quartz micro slivers. Very carefully he formed the shell for the solution from the thinnest layer of seidr diamond that he could make. It twisted down into a fine cantaloupe orange point. Inside of that he filled it with liquid seidr diamond solution and micro slivers of rose quartz. Every sliver was runed to allow it to channel seidr easily. The twisted triangular tip was fit smoothly onto the end of the nibless pen. Focusing his seidr through the crystalline nib let Arno write out a complex alchemical transmutation circle that was already empowered. There was no need to empower the circle since he was easily empowering it as he drew it out. He wanted to share this with someone. Rhodey was busy with more paperwork. Herb was busy with Lady Ingalill, and Morgan had just started to work on his alchemy after practicing a new hymn. Only Anthony looked momentarily free. "Hey Anthony, come over and look at this!" The oven alarm went off then, so he removed a baking pan from it, "I have some rolls for you."

Though Anthony didn't want to be distracted at that moment, he did want some food to silence the uncomfortable rumbling in his stomach. He stood up and went quickly to the kitchenette. Herb was working with Lady Ingalill on the far counter. Arno was working on something else. Lady Pirkko had departed a while ago, taking with her several handmade chocolates. Some that Arno had made and some that she made for herself. She was pleased with both of the types of chocolates and had promised to return later on to learn how to make cherry cordials. Anthony wanted some of those cherry cordials. His stomach rumbled again as he approached the kitchenette, and the smell of freshly baked bread filled his nose. Anthony snatched a burning roll off the pan and shoved it unceremoniously into his mouth. Munching, he tilted his head to the side and arched an eyebrow in question.

With a motion towards his paper and new pen, Arno drew out another small transmutation circle next to the other already empowered circle. Instantly it caught Anthony's attention. He crouched down so that his eyes were level with the counter. "Is that nib made of crystal?" Arno stopped drawing to answer his question, so Anthony prodded at his hand and muttered, "Keep drawing."

"It is crystal; runed rose quartz crystal micro slivers and liquid seidr diamond combo, with a seidr diamond shell." Arno tried to catch Anthony's gaze but couldn't.

The crystal nib was bending and flexing with Arno's strokes, allowing his younger brother to create complex, flowing, and swirling patterns of seidr on the paper without any stiffness or needing extra strokes. It was crystal enough to be able to channel seidr, precise like a metal point on a pen but had enough flexibility like a paintbrush. This looked very much like what Anthony needed. His gaze darted up to meet Arno's gaze. "Where did you find this?"

"It's just something I threw together to see if I could. Why?" His older brother looked like he wanted this, and Arno didn't mind giving it over.

"Teach me how you made it." Anthony's gaze kept on the pen with its beautiful crystal nib. He wanted it to be a solution to his problem with the stiff tip of the seidr pen.

Arno's cantaloupe seidr struck out of his core to devastate into the Learning Spell, which absorbed his memories of the crystal pen he'd made. He released the spell into his older brother's shoulder, whereupon the runes darted up his neck and face to his eyes. Anthony's eyes lit up in the cantaloupe orange seidr of his younger brother where Arno's seidr shrunk back into his core.

The cantaloupe seidr in his eyes faded. "I need this." Anthony said slowly before swiftly snatching the pen from Arno. Next, he picked up the pan of rolls and went back to his workbench with them.

"Bring the pan back when you're done," Arno called after his brother with the certainty that his older brother hadn't heard him at all. A smile drifted across his face as his hand drifted down to his belly. He pulsed more love-filled seidr to his babies before he went to create more handmade chocolates and sumptuous dishes. Once he was done with those then he was going to work more on his crystal smithing. Pretty bottles for Morgan to put his potions in was going to be his next project.

As Anthony walked past him with a pan of fresh baked rolls, Morgan leaned out and snagged two of them. Thank you, he signed with his other hand. One roll, then the other went right into his mouth. He needed both hands to work on the vial of golden sands that was still on the burner. It was beginning to tremble in the glass vial. Little tendrils of golden sand stretched up the inside wall of the reinforced glass vial. It was finally starting to move after all of his unsuccessful attempts at movement. A wide grin touched his lips as he looked at the bare bones copy of his own consciousness moving in the micro-runed sands. This was what he'd been waiting for, what he'd been wanting for months now. Soon, little one, he thought with satisfaction, you'll have your time soon.

James observed the vial of golden sands that was starting to move as Morgan took it from the small flame it was sitting over. He was waiting for Morgan to decide what he wanted to do with the sands. For now, it was just an exercise in curiosity which James was just fine with allowing. Morgan had already finished hymn practice and his work for the day. That work was the potions in the crystal bottles that Arno smithed. The potions sat orderly in crates off to the side of the Soul Forge. The frothing green potions were each about two tablespoons of liquid. There were some sitting in a small group on the fully functional Soul Forge that he stood next to. He was waiting for Lady Sjofn to bring him and Lady Eldbjorg the first of their new test subjects to try the potions that Morgan had come up with. If he was being honest, and he always was with himself, James was nervous over what they were about to do. They were taking people's lives into their hands. They had to be careful about this, but there was no way for them to reduce the risk of what was going to happen to zero. He had his micro laptop, with a fresh medical record open, next to the crystal bottles. It was connected to the Soul Forge. Flaring his seidr out to Herb, it whispered, I'm raising the shield now.

I have the boys, Herb confirmed before James brought up a large solidly-colored Hardened Light Barrier. He played his soul song of stillness as loudly as he could for the guests he knew were incoming.

24May2023 – Outside The Bounds Of Time – Second Part Of The Day

Vanaheim Royal Palace Guest Chambers

The pale-eyed freak stood hidden wearing the hunter's black garb, watching. Always watching his Starks. Part of watching his Starks was watching those around them that influenced his Starks. It was one of the reasons why Rhodes was intensely interesting to him. He was standing near Rhodes watching him now, as he was about to use things that his Starks had created. He wanted to see what Rhodes could make out of what his Starks had made. If he understood the conversations between Rhodes, Willems, and the Lady Sjofn correctly then they were going to be doing something very interesting with what his Starks made. He wondered if it was possible, what they were wanting to do. Like his cure, it would revolutionize healthcare in the Nine Realms. Unlike his cure it would be clean and pure, like Helena's light. He wanted to encourage his Starks to break free of his darkness and follow in Helena's light, but that would have required speaking with them directly. That rarely ever happened. He was the watcher in the dark, the worker in hard times. While he couldn't speak with his Starks directly, he could watch Rhodes use their creations. It was enough for him.

24May2023 – Outside The Bounds Of Time – Second Part Of The Day

Vanaheim Royal Palace Guest Chambers

As soon as the barrier was in place Lady Sjofn teleported into the barrier with two elderly men and an elderly woman. They were all dressed in what looked to be dully-colored medieval peasant clothing that had only been updated in the seams and clasps. Mud covered their boots. All three of them were winded already. The older of the two men was hunched over with a thin clear mask pressed over his mouth and nose. It was made of a healer's pale yellow seidr and was helping him to breathe. Lady Sjofn bowed to James to show those she brought that James was in charge of this endeavor, then stepped off to the side to stand with Lady Eldbjorg.

Returning her bow, James looked to the three people who were now waiting anxiously for him. Before he addressed them, he unfolded his seidr to mount into a Conjuration Spell. It released to create three small barstools for this guests to sit on before his seidr stowed back into his core. Once that was done, he addressed them directly using the honorifics that Lady Sjofn taught him. "Welcome Fru(mistress), and Herrar(gentlemen). My name is James, and it's lovely to meet you. Please, sit." The older of the two men sat immediately. Picking up his micro laptop came next to take down their names in his medical records. "Would you tell me your names?"

The dvergar woman in dull browns and reds spoke first, nervous to disobey the obscenely powerful man who a Norn bowed to. "My name is Dagmara of the Asketill clan of Nidavellir." Her yellow-eyed gaze darted between James and the Norns at his side hoping that she hadn't fallen afoul of any of them.

"It's wonderful to meet you, Fru Asketill," James kept a pleasant smile on his face, "And you Herrar?"

"Aghi… Brand," the older of the two men who wore dull browns and blues, didn't waste time with Alfheimr clan identifications. He spoke with a noticeable wet whistle as he breathed in and out. The mask was only helping him so much. The severe progression of his illness was obvious.

Then the younger of the two Alfheimr men, dressed in dull greens, offered his full name, "Kory sonur Bua afaettinni Nybo of Alfheim."

All three of them sounded as winded as they looked. James hoped that he could offer them some relief from their illness. "Fru Asketill, Herra Nybo and Herra Brand, do you understand why you've been brought here today? I trust that what we're doing here has been explained to you." The three elderly people all nodded wordlessly, and he nodded once to them. "Do you have any questions for me?"

The three of them looked at one another before Fru Asketill took it upon herself to the speak for the group, since she was the least far along in their shared illness. "You had us brought through time to assist you in finding a cure for this ailment. Where are we? Or… when?"

"Why did you choose us?" The younger man asked after that. What drew your notice?

The older man tried to ask something, but it immediately devolved into a choking coughing that silenced him swiftly and left him grasping at his chest.

Pity filled James' thoughts for the older man. He focused his soul song of stillness through his voice so that they would hear his calm and remain calm through what was happening. "You're on Vanaheim in the Royal Palace. Each of you is from the 1st Era. We're now in the 4th Era. As for why you were chosen, you all have various stages of wet-lung from the Tellus Efnanama disaster. I'd like to try to help you to heal from this illness. We're looking for a cure. What we learn here now will help us save others later on."

That caught all three of their attentions and focused them solely on him. "Would each of you be willing to allow me to place a Ward of Silence on you? What we're doing here has to stay a secret until we're done. I don't want it unintentionally changing destinies, which is what these good Ladies are aiding me with," James motioned to the Norns besides him.

It didn't take very long for Fru Asketill to decide that she wanted to move forward with this. "You may place a ward of silence upon me." She looked up to meet James' gaze. "If this goes not well, then I pray thee return my remains to my clan."

Herra Nybo was the next to speak. "I too shall accept a Ward of Silence if it is in service of the Nine Realms." After him Herra Brand just nodded affirmatively and tapped one hand against the mask over his mouth while he continued to wheeze.

"Thank you all. If this somehow goes wrong, please rest assured that your remains will be returned to your clans with full honors." James unfolded his seidr from his core to mount into three Wards of Silence. They were keyed to not allow their recipients to discuss their trip or anything having to do with it with anyone other than James. Then the wards were all applied to their chins, just below the lower lips of the three old Elder Realm dwellers. A ten pointed star with a segmented interior briefly appeared on them in garnet seidr before it faded away into carmine then nothing.

A swirl of pale rose sjel-seidr teleportation fire swirled up to the ceiling. Lady Aile was left standing there when the teleportation fires fell back to the floor. She smiled widely at the three people who were waiting for them before bowing politely to James. He returned her politeness with a bow of his own then turned his attention back to the fru and herrar.

"How this is going to happen is that both Lady Aile and Lady Eldbjorg," he motioned to the two Norns, "are going to attend to you while you're in the Soul Forge. I'm going to take several images of your lungs through the Soul Forge and we're going to offer you the first dose an experimental potion. The potion is made to assist you with breathing easier and clearing out the liquid and debris from your lungs. You'll be returned home after that to let the potion work. In six months, you'll be brought back here for more imagery and the second dose of the potion. You'll go home again, and finally you'll come back here one last time, two and a half years later, for more imagery. I need to know how well the potion works over the average time wet-lung takes to run its course. During each time here I would like to take a sample of your blood and a biopsy sample of one of your lungs. Each of these will be for study. Do you understand? Is this acceptable?"

After looking at the two men she'd come with, Fru Asketill smiled at James. She had made her choice. "I shall be first in this endeavor."

"You understand that this is an experiment? Do I have your consent to proceed with your cooperation?" James asked her.

"Yes," she answered firmly to both questions.

"You understand that I'll be collecting personal medical information on you?"

"It is as a healer does." Her resolve didn't waiver.

"And you understand that discomfort or even pain may come from this experiment?" he asked his second question.

"Yes," her resolve still didn't waver.

"You understand that I might not be able to cure you?"

"This shall aid you to save other lives?" she needed to know.

"Undoubtedly," James responded confidently.

"Then I bequeath my life unto the free peoples of the Nine Realms, for better or worse." Fru Asketill didn't hesitate to step forward. "What would you have from me?"

"Lady Eldbjorg if you could take the samples, please. Lady Aile, if you could administer the potion and then monitor its effect. I'm going to use the Soul Forge to take several images of the afflicted tissues," James turned to Fru Asketill and motioned to the Soul Forge, "Do you need assistance to get into the Soul Forge?"

"No," she smiled again, "No, I am yet capable." Hoping up onto the surface of the Soul Forge, Fru Asketill laid down on the cold metal. She noticed James noticing her discomfort on the flat cold metal before she refocused her attention on the Norn to her side.

Lady Eldbjorg moved forward to taking the samples of blood and lung tissue. With the Soul Forge it was accomplished easily and with little enough pain. Each little sample was placed in a reinforced glass vial which was inscribed with Bundling Runes and properly labeled. James stood on the other side of the Soul Forge from her. She appreciated the crisp, clean manner in which he used the Soul Forge to take several prints of images of Fru Asketill's lungs.

Looking over the images, James looked to Lady Aile. "She's ready for the potion."

The timeless Lady Aile picked up one of the small crystal bottles with frothing green potion in it. Quickly but carefully, she poured the frothy potion into Fru Asketill's mouth. Their patient swallowed it down with only a little frown on her face at the raw herbal plant taste. Lady Eldbjorg brought up images of the potion as it bubbled up in Fru Asketill's stomach, absorbing directly into her blood from there.

James recorded the images into the first medical record open on the micro laptop. The Soul Forge gave him everything he needed to know about this woman; her height, weight, blood pressure, pulse, circulatory functioning, the state of her organs, cognitive functioning, anything he needed. It all went into the medical record with those images. He watched the images of the potion soaking into her lungs from the blood stream. The potion was clearing out much of the liquid from the lungs and pushing back the inflammation in the lungs from the powdery earthen debris the dvergar woman had breathed in. The debris itself was being atomized then cleared out. Unfortunately, much of the necrosis that was behind the inflammation remained. From beginning to end James recorded the entire set of images in the medical record he had open for Fru Asketill. Another set of samples was taken from her lungs after the potion's primary effect was done. All the samples from her were appropriately labeled and runed before going into a small rack for vials. They would be studied later. Moving around to the other side of the Soul Forge, James helped the woman down from it. "Thank you, Fru Asketill, for your assistance," he motioned to Lady Sjofn, "This good Lady will take you home and return you to this place in six months' time."

"I shall be ready." Fru Asketill had real hope that this experiment might work. Not only did her lungs themselves ache less, but it was easier to breathe as well. This was more than her local healer was capable of managing. This was more than she had expected. As she breathed in a new breath it felt so fresh to her that she couldn't help but smile painfully wide. Her joy was unconcealed in that moment. When the timeless Lady Sjofn came to stand next to her she went back through time without an argument, just a small bow to the man who brought her there before she went. There were no words. She was privileged enough to have one of Norn's Army bringing her to and fro, privileged beyond measure to have been chosen by one who could command Norns. Words were unnecessary.

"Who would like to go into the Soul Forge next?" James looked to the two Alfheimr men. The older of them looked more winded then when he arrived. He was glad that he'd gotten them chairs since them being able to stand up for the entire time was uncertain.

"If Herra Brand takes no offense, then I should like to be next." Herra Nybo was looking at the Soul Forge with a particular twinkle in his eyes. He had heard of the miraculous Soul Forge of House Songrblom, but had never actually seen one. The Soul Forges were things of the cities, not of the wilds and mining communities where he lived. His community was lucky enough to have a healer who was chronically overworked. There were no fancy Soul Forges in his poor community of hovels and ramshackle stores. There weren't even any paved roads outside of the singular one that the ore they mined was sent out on. Despite what James said, this still felt like the only opportunity in his life that he would have to see something as grand as a Soul Forge. It was amazing to watch it draw images of Fru Asketill's lungs and heart above the dvergar woman. It was a quick and easy choice for him to make. If he had to give up part of his lungs to see something so fine, then he would. After all, he had wet-lung. It wasn't like he was giving up that much to begin with.

Without a word, Herra Brand waved his hand towards Herra Nybo and motioned over to the Soul Forge. He was dying. He knew he was dying. He could feel his death happening every moment that went past. The slow inevitable tide that he was drowning in wouldn't be stopped here. This moment wasn't going to change that in his estimation. It was more important for the younger, fitter people to receive the healing first since there was nothing that could be done for him. Herra Brand had given up on his own life. That didn't mean he'd given up on other people's lives though. Whatever they needed from him he was going to give, to do as much as he could before time saw fit to end his life. Though this was an end for him, it was also an opportunity to give back to the Elder Realms that had given him such a good life. His beloved wife was taken care of. His wonderful children were all successful and his amazing grandchildren were all healthy. Herra Brand thought that there was nothing more he could ask for than that, but he was wrong. Now he had the opportunity to make his death mean something. It was more than he thought possible. It was more than enough for him.

"My thanks, Elder." Herra Nybo spoke to the older man and nodded before turning and going to the Soul Forge. He bowed to Lady Eldbjorg and Lady Aile next. Then he turned to James. "Should I lay down on this?"

"Yes, please," James motioned to the bed of the Soul Forge.

Though it took the same amount of time to complete the tasks as it had with Fru Asketill, Herra Nybo still enjoyed the process. The only thing that brought an accepting frown to his face was when his lungs and heart were displayed. Up above him he could see the necrosis in his lungs and the inflammation causing liquid to fill his dying organs. It wasn't getting any better. A little sigh passed through his lips. As James took prints of the images of his lungs Herra Nybo wondered what, if anything, could be done to reverse the damage that the mining accident did to him. The explosive disaster at the Tellus Efnanama mining pit killed many people. Me among them.

Lady Aile administered the potion to Herra Nybo, and they all watched as the potion soaked into the younger Alfheimr man's blood stream from his stomach. The potion bubbled up in his lungs then. Once again, the powdery debris in the man's lungs atomized. The total amount of liquid evaporated and cleared from his lungs leaving him breathing easier. The inflammation in the airways was driven back, but not the necrosis. Herra Nybo was still dying.

All of the information from the imagery and the potion went into the medical record on James' micro laptop. The samples of lung tissue went into runed vials that went into a small rack for them. It was all very good information to have and easily gotten too. As he looked over the second set of imagery depicting lungs that were dying slowly, he didn't think that he was going to be able to save any of these people. All he was going to be able to do was gather information from them. That thought sunk in deeply when Herra Nybo was taken home, after promising that he too would be ready to be brought back. Herra Brand's imagery drove that thought even deeper. Patches of necrosis in the older Alfheimr's lungs were everywhere. The inflammation was out of control and the fluid in his lungs was filling half of one and near half of the other. There was no way that the potion they had was going to do anything other than delay the inevitable. It was vital information on how the disease worked in its later stages, information that he needed. James still felt his heart sinking at the imagery of the struggling lungs. He had to stop himself from using the soul song of blessings on the old Alfheimr man. It would have tainted the results; he couldn't have that. With as much ruthless calm as he could muster, he shoved the discouragement to the back of his mind. He knew that there would be lives that he couldn't save when he began this. He even knew that gathering data to be studied was the best that he could hope for in these first groups. A little glimmer of hope sparked in James' thoughts as he watched the potion be administered. The debris and fluid was rapidly being cleared out of Herra Brand's lungs. The inflammation was also being pushed back. The glimmer of hope died as all of the fluid was cleared away. It revealed more of the necrosis in the aged lungs. There was going to be no saving this man with the potion they had. James knew it for sure now. Herra Brand taking a deep breath brought his thoughts out of his dismal thoughts.

The older elf wasn't discouraged by what he saw, quite the opposite in fact. The frothing green potion foamed up in Herra Brand's lungs to dissolve and clear out the damnable stony debris and the consuming fluid it brought with it. It was amazing to not feel like he was drowning anymore. There were dark patches in his lungs still, far too many to be overlooked. He didn't care that this easy breathing wouldn't be forever. The gift of breath was so overwhelmingly splendid that he didn't care that the inevitable drowning would return. "I can breathe." Wonder filled his quiet voice. The whistling as he breathed in and out that annoyed him so very much was absent for the first time in over a year. While he understood that he hadn't been granted a second chance at life, it almost felt like it. Herra Brand felt like he was gifted a real chance to be able to spend time with his family and say goodbye to them before he went off to Niflheim to wait for them. Just being able to breathe again was more than enough of a gift for him. Little tears trickled down Herra Brand's cheeks from his wide open eyes. "I can breathe."

Like the other two patients before him, when Herra Brand got out of the Soul Forge he promised that he would be ready when they came for him again. James bowed to the elderly elf before Lady Sjofn took him away. She stepped back out of the currents of time a fraction of a second after they left.

"Shall I retrieve the second lot?" It had only been three people and James already had subtle signs of melancholy. His benevolent heart was displeased at not being able to save these people from their fates. She could see it so obviously since she knew him well now.

Nodding, his gaze met hers. "Yes, please." Once again, he made certain that his soul song of stillness was playing loudly for his new guests.

James wanted to say that he never knew how many people the timeless Ladies brought to him for imagery and biopsies, but it was only a lie that he wanted to be true. In reality he knew exactly how many tens of thousands of dying people were brought to him that day. There was hope in those people's eyes. The hope was false though. They were souls that he knew he wasn't going to be able to save. It weighed on his mind, tried to prey upon it with guilt and wretched dejection. James was relentless though. If they were going to have any hope of wiping this scourge from the Nine Realms, then he needed the precious information these lives were harboring. There was no room for such downy emotions as pity and compassion. He couldn't become attached to saving a single life when he was aiming to save so many more, so soft pity and warm compassion were banished to the back of his mind. James would deal with them later.

For the moment a polite professionalism took over his demeanor that was like a second skin to him. He'd lived in it for so long. Another little sigh slipped past his lips. There was no escaping that second skin for something more honest. It just wasn't possible; not for him, not now and probably not ever. So, he made sure that his professional mask was firmly in place and that his seidr had a good grip on his micro laptop. The only thing that changed as the hours, days, weeks, months, years crept by was that James eventually changed into a different set of more supportive shoes to be more comfortable. Even with those the biopsies and blood sample collections marched on. James and the three Norns formed a sort of mill that was churning out vast quantities of information on a single disease. It was information that complimented and contrasted the information that the Elder Realms already had. Instead of taking lives they were studying them and bettering them when they could. When the first round of more than fifty-thousand people were done being scanned and giving samples James didn't want to pause. He looked at the three Norns who were aiding him in this endeavor. "Let's start bringing them back for the second dose of the potion. Or do you need a break? We can break for a while if any of you need it."

The Norns were beings of time and willpower. They knew that none of them would have had a problem in continuing what they were doing for several million years if it was needed. It shocked them that James was so resilient that he wanted to continue, but it was his thoughtfulness in offering them rest that most impressed the timeless Ladies. Lady Sjofn looked at each of her sisters and smiled warmly. "We are well. I shall begin bringing them back to you."

With a polite nod and a little bow, James spoke, "Thank you." In a distasteful kind of way, he was dreading seeing how far the wet-lung had progressed in the six months that it'd been for the people he once sent away. A second later Lady Sjofn brought back the very last lot of people they had worked with. It was easy and quick enough for them to run the people through the Soul Forge and take the samples that were needed.

Most of the imagery pleased James, just not for how specific it was. He expected specificity out of the Soul Forge. No, it was the lack of progress that the disease had made in those few months that the people had spent apart from James that pleased him most. When put side by side with the data from the Elder Realms' healers it became clear that the potion had slowed the spread of the necrosis significantly. Slowed, not stopped. He wondered how much good the second dose would do, and hoped that it would do even more. All he could do at that moment was record the important data as it came to him and observe. The second application of the potion pushed the inflammation back even further, fully eliminating it in some people. It was the ones where the necrosis stubbornly kept the inflammation active that he was worried over. They needed something stronger than what they had. That was becoming more obvious with each person they treated. Eventually they came back to Herra Nybo.

"Ah, Ser James. It gladdens my heart to see you again. Fare thee well?" The man who'd brought him through time to see to his wet-lung didn't look well to him. There was a darkness in James' eyes, a sadness that was too great to cover with politeness. This didn't seem like the same man he'd met just those few months ago.

Being rude enough to dump all of his upset onto Herra Nybo never crossed James' mind. The number of people he sent home knowing that they wouldn't still be living in two and a half years to take the final imagery was legion. They were deaths that he knew weren't his fault. Wet-lung had claimed them all. That knowledge didn't assuage his guilt at not being able to save them from their inevitable demise. All he could do was make their end a little easier, a little more comfortable. Herra Nybo was no different than all the others.

"I'm well." It was a lie that James told smoothly. "Just tired from all the work."

"Ah, yes. To be expected, I suppose." Herra Nybo climbed back up onto the Soul Forge and lay flat against its cool surface.

"Let's see how you're doing." The imagery James saw was so much like the other tens of thousands of people that he'd taken imagery from. The disease was progressing more slowly than it otherwise would have, but it was progressing still. All they'd done was to slow it down, but Herra Nybo didn't seem to mind. The Alfheimr man was as cheerful as ever; even after seeing the imagery; even after taking the potion and seeing what it did and didn't do. It was much appreciated since many of the people he'd taken imagery and samples from that day reacted with a slew of negative emotions ranging from grim acceptance to outright despair. Treating someone who had an acceptance for their own health conditions while not taking those negative emotions out on everyone around them was a much needed respite for James. It lent a little speed through good cheer to his work, causing him to be finished with Herra Nybo fairly quickly.

As the Alfheimr man climbed out of the Soul Forge James gave him his final instructions. "In two and a half years Lady Sjofn will come to get you for the final round of biopsies and imagery. You'll be done after that."

"I shall be ready." Herra Nybo gave a little bow then and was whisked away by Lady Sjofn.

The timeless Lady returned not even a second later with the very last person from the second round of treatment, Herra Aghi Brand. The old Alfheimr man looked worse than any of the others. His skin was sallow with hints of blue around his eyes and lips. Even his fingernails looked blue. He'd lost a noticeable amount of weight and was trembling all over. The cane he was leaning on shook in his hand. The slow and slightly disoriented look in his eyes cleared up as soon as he saw who was before him. "Ser James! 'Tis so good to see you again." Herra Brand's voice was a ragged whisper with a shrill whistle behind it despite his smile being so bright.

James held no hope that the potion had done much for this man. That didn't stop him from treating the man with the dignity and respect that he deserved as an elder. The second dose of the potion was administered, and it once again cleared the old Alfheimr's lungs of the excess fluid and inflammation. With those clear it became obvious just how much the necrosis in Herra Brand's lungs had progressed. James almost frowned when he saw the grisly imagery that their potion had revealed. Not only had they not improved Herra Brand's condition, they hadn't even slowed it down. That was when Lady Eldbjorg spoke up.

"Herra Brand, as a healer, I must have words with you regarding the condition of your lungs."

"Not good, is it?" he rasped.

A heavy sigh came from her as she looked Herra Brand in the eyes. "Your lungs are collapsing. The collapse cannot be stopped now. You have a few hours, maybe even a day yet to live. That is all the time there is left for you."

"It is more than enough, Lady Norn." Herra Brand was shocked that he could speak so well through the damage done to his insides. Turning his head, he looked to James then. "Would it be possible to send me home now? I wish to bid my wife and family farewell."

It wasn't prudent, but James knew that changing one data-point in amongst the fifty thousand that they'd gathered that day wouldn't do any harm. He switched his soul song to the soul song of blessings and stamped the old elf's forehead with it before switching back. Luck would follow his death, which would be pain-free. It was all that James could do, so he motioned to Lady Sjofn to kindly take the man home to his family. Herra Brand had given them enough. They couldn't ask anymore. James bowed to Herra Brand before he was returned to his own time and place. "Goodbye Aghi Brand, of Alfheim." James's voice was a scant whisper of its normal strength. "Thank you for your knowledge." He knew that he was going to remember the name of Aghi Brand for the rest of his days. Then he wondered if he would end up remembering all the names of the rest of the lives that they were drawing knowledge from without being able to save other lives. The look in Herra Brand's eyes was so grateful to James for what little he'd done that James thought he probably was going to end up remembering them out of guilt for how little he was able to do. It won't always be this way, he thought resolutely, determined to not have wasted those people's lives.

Stepping back out of the currents of time less than a fraction of a second later, Lady Sjofn gave James a thorough looking over. There was a slight but noticeable droop in his shoulders and a darkness in his eyes that weren't ordinary. It took her a moment to realize that he looked tired. James never looked that way before. Dealing with so many people who couldn't be saved was wearing on him visibly. "Mayhaps you should rest before the next round of treatment."

"I appreciate your concern, Lady Sjofn, but I'm ok. Let's get the third round done so that the data can begin being processed." The timeless Lady was correct, and James's knew it. He was tired and needed to meditate on his emotions to rest. Meditation was the correct option that he would have taken but they were two-thirds of the way done with this first study. He wanted it done so that he could return to his brothers and spend some time relaxing with them, but not with this hanging over his head. So he continued on resolutely.

That resolute determination took a real hit when Lady Sjofn was only able to find forty percent of the fifty thousand people they started with. The others hadn't survived the two and a half years. Like Herra Brand, their lives were cut short. James asked Lady Sjofn and Lady Eldbjorg to gather as much information on those who died before the time was up, which they did without protest. He was glad again to have such wonderful allies.

After they returned with the data on those who died early Lady Sjofn began bringing in groups of the remaining approximately twenty thousand. James and the timeless Ladies fell back into a rhythm of imagery and taking samples. They were able to move people through quickly and without a fuss until they came to the very last person in the study. The person who was the last was also the first, Fru Dagmara of the Asketill clan of Nidavellir.

Fru Asketill was frailer looking than when she'd come to him the two previous times. Like all of the others she was wheezing and trembling. Just from looking at her James could tell that she too was going to succumb to the wet-lung disease. There truly was no saving any of this first fifty thousand. In that moment James knew that he would absolutely remember their names long past then they were done with this. "Thank you for doing this for us, Fru Asketill. I appreciate it more than you know."

Twisting and sitting up on the Soul Forge, the old dvergar woman looked to James and smiled and wheezed. "I thought after the first time we met that it was the gift of breath that you gave to me," a contemplative look came over her face, "but I was wrong. It isn't breath you gifted to us, but time itself." James went to protest, and she held up her hand and placed her hand over her mouth, asking him for silence so she could continue. "I have lived a long life, despite the wet-lung. I have seen my clan grow in size and power. I have seen my realm accept the gifts of the Soul Forge, and many of the wonders of Lord Ymir's sons. I have seen my people leave their home realm to begin new homes in the stars and I went with them." Tears welled up in her eyes. "I have seen both of my husbands, and both of my wives grow old and wither to nothing. I have watched as my own children grew old and died and have even watched as one of my grandchildren passed beyond the Veil of the Void. And I had time to see to my family one last time, because of you." Fru Asketill wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled at the much younger man. "I have lived a good life, despite the hardships, so now I ask you, what would you have of me? What can I give to you for the overwhelming gift of time that you gave to me?"

"You've given me more than enough, Fru Asketill. I can't ask for anything more than that." The old woman was getting at something but he wasn't quite sure what yet.

"And if you could?" The question hung in the air between them for a moment.

"What are you proposing?" James asked bluntly.

"Would it be useful to you to have a spare set of lungs to experiment with, or even a whole body?" He went to protest and again she held up her hand for silence. "My time is done with. I accept…,no. I am comfortable with that fact." A smile that was misty with memories crossed her face. "Most of those I love are waiting for me in Valhalla's Rest. I want to tell them that I left a better life for those who came after me than the world that was left to me. So, I ask you again, Ser James, what would you have of me?"

The desire to absolutely decline her offer was strong in the forefront of James' mind. The profound usefulness of a body to autopsy, and lung tissue to experiment with stilled his tongue though. He fully understood the value of what she was offering, but there was a distasteful dishonor in killing a woman for her body parts. He just couldn't do it. If she was already dead then he could ethically accept the donation. His mind circled back around to the fact that she wasn't dead just yet. That was the real problem.

This was an offer that James needed to accept. Lady Sjofn and Lady Eldbjorg both knew it. It was honor and a healthy respect for life that was silencing him now, despite it looking like he knew he should accept the offer as well. Lady Sjofn peered into the currents of time around Fru Asketill and found something that she hoped would aid James along to making the right decision. Flaring out her sjel-seidr, it whispered to him, Fru Asketill's mantle is one of the Laughing Corpse. They are content to die, and content to share in death with any who might ask it of them.

At the same time as Lady Sjofn was peering into the currents of time around Fru Asketill, so was Lady Eldbjorg. She found the same thing as her sister handmaiden, so she too flared her sjel-seidr out to James, To share this knowledge with you is her fate.

"You can use the Soul Forge to stop my heart quickly, then you can use my body to study wet-lung. We both know you need this. I am happy to give of myself. Come now, come and take what you need." Fru Asketill stood firmly on her principles, even if she couldn't stand up easily on her own.

"You're asking me to end your life…," James began.

"My life is already at an end. You won't bring it to more of an end with this." Fru Asketill replied calmly.

"You can't ask me to commit murder." He tried again.

"It isn't murder if you have my consent." She reminded him.

"It wouldn't be ethical to take your life for the sake of an experiment." This was the last best thing that James could think of. There were other arguments to be made, most of them boiled down to him not wanting to do this. There were hard facts that he couldn't get around though.

"It would be less ethical to allow those with wet-lung to continue to suffer when you could easily glean knowledge from my body that would alleviate their suffering." Another warm smile touched her lips, and she found this man to be worthy of what she was offering. "You are an honorable man. Your honor proves your worth. There is no dishonor in what I'm offering. There is only the terrible need of the living. I do not begrudge them that, not when I have so enjoyed my own life."

A strange wondering struck James' mind then. He wondered if this was what his brothers felt like when they were trapped between actions and hard facts when arguing with him. He thought it must have been the same feeling because he too was trapped between an action he didn't want to take and the hard facts that he couldn't in good conscious ignore.

The look on Ser James' face mirrored her children's looks when they too tried to argue with her over what was plainly obvious. She knew she'd won so she quietly laid back down on the Soul Forge to await her final end.

"I thought you wanted to be returned to your clan?" James slid his seidr into the Soul Forge to take command of it. He wasn't going to leave this to anyone else. No one else would be consigned to this guilt. This death and its consequences would belong to him alone.

"My clan will make a celebration of my life. You will make purpose of it which is more important," Fru Asketill reached over and took his hand in hers, "and so you are doing an honorable deed. Bear no ill will, for there is no need for any." She squeezed his hand one then let it go. Her eyes closed as she waited to be released from her mortal coil. In her mind's eye she could see her family gathered together. They were waiting for her now.

Extending his seidr through the Soul Forge and into Fru Asketill's body let James easily take control of her internal organs. He held her heart in his hands, numbing her nerves to relieve any pain this would cause.

The aged dvergar could almost feel her spouses' arms around her.

He began slowing her beating heart down. Hesitation edged James' thoughts.

It was the warmth of her children that Fru Asketill felt next.

Her heart was slowing, slowing, slowing down. James knew he needed to do this.

The wonder of seeing her grandchild again excited her old soul.

This was it, the moment James didn't want to face. With his seidr, with his will, he stopped the old woman's heart. Her internal organs came next. They too were painlessly shut down.

A sudden, blindingly bright light appeared above Fru Asketill's body. A vertical slash in that light drew James' gaze upwards. He could see a young woman glowing and floating above the body on the Soul Forge. In an instant James knew that this was Fru Asketill's soul. She smiled at him, and he returned her smile when he felt the joy she was radiating. That moment relieved much of the hurt over what he'd just done.

Thank you, she whispered to him.

"You won't be forgotten, good Lady," James whispered in return. She smiled to him again, wider this time then looked up. Another vertical slash of light took her soul away then. He hoped that there were people who loved her waiting for her when she got to Niflheim.

Looking back down brought James to the inevitable consequences of his actions. Fru Asketill's corpse was waiting for him on the bed of the Soul Forge. She deserved the best that he had to give, so he unfolded his seidr to mount into a Conjuration Spell and a Learning Spell. The Learning Spell absorbed his thoughts on what he wanted. His two spells were released together to create a crystal coffin swirled in transparent rainbows of color. Curling star-felled steel lines plated in red and yellow gold were braided over the corners of the box holding the crystal panels together. They hinged the lid to the box. Every metal line was engraved with Bundling Runes. A thin bed made of memory foam and crushed velvet, with a firm little pillow, appeared out of the Conjuration Spell. Like a coffin for a princess of legend, this finished crystalline work was prepared for its noble occupant.

The crystal coffin was held aloft by James' unfolded seidr. I'm sorry that I couldn't save you, he thought as he placed both her hands over her middle and carefully picked her up. He placed her gently into the coffin and closed the lid softly. The Bundling Runes activated once the lid was sealed in place. James ran a hand gentle over the lid before he dismissed the entire work to his interdimensional pocket and stowed his seidr back into his core. Fru Dagmara Asketill, wait for me. I'll make sure that your death matters. I promise you that.

A sweeping wave of fatigue overcame James. It took him a conspicuous amount of effort to push himself into a standing position again. He hadn't been so tired since his parents went to their final sleep. It was heavy enough that it was going to need to be handled sometime soon. It was so heavy that it clouded his mind with misty tentacles latching onto his thoughts to make them seem less important. I need to sleep, James thought suddenly, then pushed the thought away, the boys might need me. I can't. Pushing the fatigue to the side, James turned to the timeless Ladies who were waiting on him.

"James, you require rest. We have done enough for this moment. There will be other moments in which you shall act. Let this one be done." It took more effort than Lady Sjofn had ever expected to use, but she was able to extend her sjel-seidr to pull at James' seidr so that he would drop the shield around them.

A worn smile spread just a little on James' face. "Yes, you're right."

As soon as Herb saw James, he immediately went to him. His brother needed him now, so he took James' face between his hands. He looked thoroughly at his brother, his flat expression and smile eroded by fatigue. It was James' watery eyes though that drove Herb to action. There was clear distress and even something that looked like guilt. "We're meditating. Now!" James tried to shake his head, to protest the need to take care of himself before taking care of the boys first. Without releasing James, Herb turned his head to look at the boys. He barked out his orders. "James needs to meditate. The three of you will behave up to my expectations until we're done." A softer tone entered his voice as he looked to Lady Sjofn. "Please flare your sjel-seidr to us if you need us. We will hear you." Herb looked back to James then. "We're meditating now."

The boys would have to be fine on their own for a few moments, so Herb pulled James down into a cross-legged position before letting him go to sit in his own cross-legged position. "I'll begin." Breathing in deeply, then breathing out calmly, Herb opened the link between them to pull James into it. This was no invitation. It was an urgent command.

All three of the younger brothers wondered what had happened to their oldest brother that Herb felt he needed to meditate immediately. Anthony was the first to move, grabbing onto Arno's hand as he went to sit down next to them. He held his other hand out as he moved along and was pleased when Morgan took it. They all moved together to sit around Herb and Rhodey. Sitting back on their calves, they rested their hands on their knees, eyes closed. Then they extended their wings so that the tips of each wing was touching the tip of another of their brothers' wings. Rusty orange seidr sparked in Morgan's spindly wings. It flowed out to touch at the fires sparking in a fiery orange in Anthony's elliptical wings and the cantaloupe fires sparking in Arno's four smaller wings. The fires flowed powerfully around them. Despite trying to get into the link they could feel Herb keeping them out. That heightened their distress, so they began to extend their seidr and resonate them with each other. It created a perfect circle of fire around the five of them. It cut into the floor, pushed at the fuchsia sjel-seidr wards beneath the floor.

Black rot began to sluggishly ooze from their skin to cover them. The black, transparent, sticky, warped seidr, ran down their arms to drip thickly onto their thighs. More black rot oozed up through their jeans and shirts to coat them. It slicked their hair to their skulls and painted their faces in dark, angular tones. The more time passed the more black rot was produced. It burned and purified in the fires swirling around them, leaving little bits of jorthsteinn stone scattered around them.

"What are they doing?" The fact that they had almost cut into Lady Sjofn's wards worried Lady Eldbjorg. All she could tell from their seidr whispers was that they were troubled.

"I know not, Sister. They have never done this in front of me. They have rarely ever done this at all." Though Lady Sjofn suspected that they were trying to reach James, she couldn't be sure yet. What they were doing looked monstrous to her, with black rot dripping from and pooling about them. Their now clear desire to have their Elder Brother back made it not monstrous but loving. She thought it should have surprised her that such beings as Anthony, Arno, and Morgan were capable of such deep and positive emotions, it didn't. Anthony and his Stark-turned-Rhodes brothers were truly gentle souls, even if they weren't gentle beings. Just then their eyes opened. The white of their eyes was solid black while the chocolate brown of their irises was glowing in a very vivid, very pale sky blue. It looked Svartalfr to her, though she knew it wasn't. Their faces pulled up into slight sneers that were more pointed than normal. Overall, their faces looked more angular and less human. So much black rot began to cover their distorted faces that their skin couldn't be seen through it. Only the glow of their eyes and the fires of their wings could still be seen. It was more what could be felt from them that the timeless ladies paid attention to. In amongst the seidr whispers from them, Lady Sjofn thought she could hear a tone of agitation that was growing. James was ill and they didn't know what else to do but call for him to come back to them. They just wanted their family to be well. No, not monstrous.

"Let us simply observe them for now." Lady Aile had never been so close to black rot without her life being in danger. To see it appear because of love seemed powerfully strange to her. This is what their love resembles when they worry. They can't control what they are. They are not the one responsible for what they are. She sat at the table, facing the Rhodes brothers, summoned her healer's orders from her interdimensional pocket and began to work on her notes regarding the people they'd treated that day. How the potion that was used worked on those people concerned her most. She left the rest of the healer's orders to her sister handmaiden, Lady Eldbjorg, who had already sat next to her and begun working on them.

As the timeless Ladies worked the black rot from the three firehawks merged into a single mass. They weren't overly concerned about this development though. The seidr whispers from them were still able to be heard, they were still worried for James as the hours passed. Anthony, Arno, and Morgan's seidr whispers still spoke of their worry for James and their longing to ensure that he was well.

"If this be the response to James being mildly unwell, then we ought not allow James to work himself so hard again." Lady Aile looked up briefly from her notes to check on the spectacle in front of her. The mass of black rot had grown to the point where it was even containing the glow of their wings. The glow of their eyes had long since disappeared into the dark.

"We are of a mind on this matter, Sister." Lady Eldbjorg also paused to look at the now-monster sized mass of black rot. Unlike a monster whose whispers were ones of domination, their whispers were ones of love and concern. They just happened to be creating something like a monster while doing it.

"I fear this is my responsibility, Sisters. I failed to foresee that this would occur. I thought they had matured past this." Lady Sjofn knew that she owed all of the Rhodes brothers an apology for not insisting that James take a break. She was also prepared to have words with James about taking better care of himself. No one could afford to have him be sickened by their work if this was the response to that illness. The work could wait. Arno, Anthony, and Morgan's distress could not. Despite being upset to have allowed this to happen, she was very presently aware of how the worry in their seidr whispers was continuing to grow the longer they were denied access to James. She pondered on that as she waited for the situation to either resolve itself or for them to need to call Herb and James back from their meditating. It wasn't that the 'boys' seemed to look to James as a father that they were losing. James was very firmly planted in their minds as their Elder Brother. Their seidr whispers didn't even indicate necessarily that they thought they were losing James. No, this distress came from something else.

Sitting back against her chair, Lady Sjofn thought over all that she knew of James and his Little Brothers. If it wasn't loss, which it didn't seem to be, then what was it? Her thoughts drifted back over all the things that the brothers had done together, how they lived their lives side by side. There were many things that James had done for the rest of his family without asking for anything, even acknowledgement, in return. Could it be debt then that drove this response? Lady Sjofn didn't think that was right either. There was love, not debt, in their seidr whispers. It was a strange sort of love though, complex and mingled. It touched on many things. Closing her eyes, Lady Sjofn listened to the love in their seidr whispers to see if she could decern what it was exactly that was distressing them. There was ordinary love for their Elder Brother, that didn't seem to be the problem. While there wasn't debt, there was an acknowledgement of what James had done for them. That still wasn't what was driving this. She wasn't surprised when she heard fear underpinning the distress in their seidr whispers. The longer she picked at that thread the more she found that it wasn't what she thought it was. The distress wasn't covering a fear only for James, but for themselves. That interested her so Lady Sjofn plucked more at that fear to hear what it was about. It surprised her when the tones of fear slowly became tones of safety. It surprised her for a moment before she thought back to the extreme and transformative damage that their childhoods did to them. She knew from dealing with so many of her own students that traumatized children often created untrusting adults. They couldn't trust in others to not betray. They couldn't trust in themselves to defend against that betrayal. Most frequently they couldn't trust in even the safest of circumstances to actually be safe. Understanding that brought her to finally hearing what was distressing them. James was their safety. Looking at it in that light made her wonder if they felt threatened when James was ill, helpless even. It would certainly explain their huddling around James to provide what distressed defense they could. That made the most sense to her. It also made the most sense to her that this response was why James refused to sleep, as colossals needed. She finally understood what he meant when he said that he couldn't sleep, that the boys might need him. They would feel unsafe without him. A smile crossed her face as she concluded that James didn't want them to feel unsafe, even for a second. Her sjel-seidr passed from her core to be commanded into several copies of the Learning Spell, which drew her memories into it. She released the spells to her sisters to allow them to look over her thoughts as she had them and decide whether her line of thinking was valid or not. Her sjel-seidr shifted back into her core. Lady Sjofn certainly thought it was, but she always liked to check things by her sisters. Their thoughts on her thoughts were always welcome.

Lady Sjofn's thoughts made perfect sense to them. They'd all dealt with Norn candidates who came from troubled homes. They all understood what they were dealing with once they saw it. Through Midgardian means James was acting as their overguard. Like the finest of overguardians he brought a sense of safety to those who lacked it in the most fundamental sense. It was Lady Eldbjorg who first extended her rosewood sjel-seidr to her sisters to resonate her sjel-seidr with theirs. Lady Sjofn extended her fuchsia sjel-seidr next, followed by Lady Aile's pale rose sjel-seidr. The three Norns came to a single mind before they picked over every one of the interactions between James and his parents and the young Starks up until that very moment. Certainty was what Lady Eldbjorg was after. The other two could feel that desire for surety and clarity of thought. Both Ladies Aile and Sjofn couldn't disagree with their sister's point that surety of thought when dealing with firehawks was the best course of action.

It took a few hours of picking over memories and analyzing interactions before they decided that Lady Sjofn was more than likely correct, but not entirely. James' parents were the safety that brought these Stark beings out of the darkness and into the light. James was the continuation of that safety, the unbroken promise of it. Herb had been brought into the inner fold and was now also upholding that safety. Now they stood on the edge of that safety the handmaiden Norns looked at the still growing mass of black rot, carrying with it the distress of three firehawks, and thought that this reaction was inevitable, What Chistopher, Howard, and David Stark had done to the Stark boys in their care had forever altered the boys ability to manufacture the feeling of safety for themselves to live normally with. More than that, it made those same boys keenly aware of their own inability regarding living their lives normally. They were the only Stark boys who lived long enough to receive that awareness. All the rest were gone but not forgotten. James remembered them all. He knew the Stark bloodline better than almost anyone else. The timeless Ladies were glad that they had so many memories to make their determination with.

By the time they were done deliberating and commanded their sjel-seidr to stop resonating and shift back into their cores, there was a rumbling from the mass of black rot. The warped seidr was rippling like the surface of a lake after a pebble was tossed in. More violent ripples began to flood across the surface. The timeless Ladies were ready to call James and Herb from their meditation if they hadn't heard the two men. Their voices, silent through the black rot, was growing steadily louder.

We hear you, we hear you, we hear you, we hear you. The voices changed then to just James' voice, I HEAR YOU! A resounding boom came from the interior of the mass of black rot. It silenced the distressed seidr whispers instantly. A sweeping soul song of stillness paired with an equally powerful soul song of blessings began swirling from the center of the mass of black rot to purify and solidify the warped seidr as soon as they contacted one another. The soul songs were alternating so quickly that they might as well have been one song. It swirled in a sudden hurricane around all five of the men, cleaning the black rot from Anthony, Morgan, and Arno, purifying them as well. When the hurricane died down each man was coated in a shimmering layer of purified jorthsteinn. Jorthsteinn stones were scattered about the floor like errant baseballs. James opened his eyes first, cracking the crystal. The cracks spread further and faster with every second until a luminescent silver-white dust was pouring off of the five of them into little piles. James' soul songs died down to just the soul song of stillness. The boys needed more calm than they had. James needed them to have that calm.

Swiftly as he could Morgan's seidr blazed out of his core to be remade into a simple Conjuration Spell. The spell released to create a vial, which was filled with the jorthsteinn dust then properly capped and sealed. Then another vial was created and filled, and then another and another until all of the dust was swiftly contained. The stones were contained next. Jorthsteinn was powerful and he recognized that readily. He didn't know exactly what to do with it just yet, but leaving it lying about on the floor seemed unwise to him. Rhodey seemed to think that it was good for alchemy, and he believed his older brother. He just had a hard time using something that he sweated out in his potions. Using it as a weapon, as the hunter's hand, was fine by him since it was just an extension of his hand then. Using it in a potion was a little gross though. Then again, Arno always says not to ask what's in the sausage.

"Thank you for cleaning that up." James spoke without even thinking about what he was saying, it was so rote to him.

An amused smile touched Herb's lips at how accustomed James was to taking care of the boys' needs. He looked James in the eyes and asked softly, "Would you introduce me to her?"

"Her who?" Arno was genuinely curious who 'her' might be, and if she had anything to do with Rhodey needing to meditate and them being left out of the link. He was still a little worried at how suddenly his husband took his older brother into the link. Herb saw something in Rhodey's eyes that he didn't like. Arno saw it in the urgent action that Herb took to see to Rhodey's health.

Both Anthony and Morgan also wanted to know who 'her' was. Who was she and how did she relate to their older brother was second in their thoughts. Who she was might tell them what was wrong with Rhodey and why Herb seemed so determined that take Rhodey into the link without them. That was first in their thoughts. It was a very rare instance that they were intentionally excluded from the link. They wanted to know why.

Rhodey looked down silently, so Morgan clapped quietly twice then tapped two times above his heart with a clenched left fist. It was the sign for Rhodey, after which he signed, Are you ok?

His younger brothers were worried about him. James could hear it in their seidr whispers. He smiled reassuringly at Morgan and signed, I'm well, before he looked to Herb. "I'll introduce her to all of you." Standing up quickly, James motioned for his brothers to move back from him. From his interdimensional pocket he summoned the beautiful crystalline coffin.

Arno was the first to inch forward to look at what his older brother just summoned. The swirling rainbows were beautiful to him, until he realized what was behind them. Looking at Rhodey, he asked, "Who's Snow White?"

Placing a hand over the lid of the crystalline coffin, James smiled sadly down at the brave woman who'd earned his respect. "This is Fru Dagmara of the Asketill clan of Nidavellir in the 1st Era. She had wet-lung, and couldn't be saved. She graciously donated her body to the cause of finding a cure for this disease…, after I ended her life. I barely knew her and she still gave me something so precious." A moment of silence fell over them before he continued on. "I promise that I'll bring as much meaning to your death as you brought to your life."

Herb moved forward to place a hand on James' shoulder. Life was precious to his brother, all life, not just the lives of the family. "If this is what you want, then we'll be there to make sure it happens. She gave of herself. So will we."

After a moment the boys drew closer to see the woman who gave her life to their brother. There was sorrow in the thought that she couldn't be saved, that their efforts weren't enough to help this woman. It seemed like a courageous thing for her to do, in their opinion, but practically and most importantly it was hopeful as well. If anyone could make something grand out of someone's sacrifice, then it would be their oldest brother. Looking from Arno to Morgan, Anthony could see that they understood the situation with the same seriousness that he did. "Yes, we will." There wasn't much to say after that.

24May2023 – Morning

SHIELD Headquarters – Medical Wing – Office Of Memory Recovery – Interview Room 3

"Alright," Agent Debbie Langstrom spoke in a chipper voice, "What we need from you first is to fill out and sign this Form 887. I've already filled in the contents section of the form, so that you don't need to. Since the necklace can't be safely stored with SHIELD, you're going to have to be its keeper." She nodded over to her partner as he stood back towards the door. "Agent Dunham will brief you when we're done on the Keepers Program, what your responsibilities and oversight will be." She slid the form with a pen across the table to her fellow agent of SHIELD. The form would go to records for processing when they were done there.

Clint Barton looked down at the standard Government Property Assignment Form. 'Form 0887' was printed down in the right hand corner of the form. It was easy for him to fill in his personal information. Years of working for SHIELD gave him more than enough practice at it. As he filled it out he noticed the 'contents' section of the form had a brief description of the necklace he received from Edward's messenger. It was listed in all seriousness as being magical. He wasn't a mage, not yet. He wondered if he would be able to make something like this once he was a mage. He wondered if he'd even want to. The 'origin' section only had Edward Stark listed as the source of the necklace. Next to his name was a dash with 'Cosmic Level Entity' written there. Clint slid the form and the pen back across the table when he was done.

A permanent cheerful smile was plastered across Agent Langstrom's face. "Excellent," she said as she took the form and pen back. She filled in the Part III of the form and signed it herself. The Part III tore off from the perforations that kept it attached to the body of the form. She slid it back across the table to Agent Barton. "This is your property pass. Please keep it on you at all times when the item is on you, or you're in SHIELD facilities. If requested by qualified SHIELD personnel you will present the property pass for inspection."

"Yes, ma'am." The property pass was slid quietly into his wallet. Clint was relieved when Agent Langstrom slid a small, stapled packet of papers across the table. It was labeled 'Who is a Qualified SHIELD Personnel, and When?'.

"I would like you to read that when we're done. Agent Dunham will answer any questions that you have about it." The petite but cheerful agent placed the last of the paperwork into a manilla folder. It went into her briefcase to be dealt with later. "The second thing we need from you, Agent Barton, is for you to work with us to explore and document the contents of this necklace." A small digital recorder came out of Agent Langstrom's briefcase and turned on. A notepad and a different pen came out next. "This interview is now being recorded. It is the 24th of May, in the year of 2023. Agent Clinton Francis Barton is being interviewed concerning an intelligence bearing necklace which cannot be removed from the agent. The necklace was given to him by an unknown entity going under the name of Edward Stark. This necklace is supposed to contain information regarding the spring 2012 Battle of New York against the alien race 'Chitauri'." She looked from her notepad to the agent. "Tell me, Agent Barton, can you activate it "

There was so much sudden anticipation in Clint's mind that it caused something akin to an itch in his right hand to use the necklace. It disturbed his normally calm demeanor. He hadn't had a chance thus far to use the necklace in the chaos of the hellicarrier fleet emergency docking. All he'd been able to do was help with the emergency evacuation. The time was right for him to finally know what he'd done during the invasion. He reached his right hand up towards the necklace, wanting so badly to know where he'd done. His hand wrapped around the magenta sjel-seidr crystal pendent and he hoped that it would activate for him. Show me what I did! Magenta washed across his eyes showing him what he wanted, but not what he expected.

Suddenly, everything was pain. It wasn't the sort of pain that could overwhelm Clint, or even slow him down. It was the echo of a pain worse than debilitating. It was Loki's pain, fear, and confusion. That the young Asgardian expected more pain from him upset him. He didn't want to hurt Lilith, or Loki. Pain wasn't what the agent of SHIELD wanted. All he wanted to know was what he'd done, but he was getting more than that. Right away, he recognized the chicken buns that he told Loki that the Asgardian conjured. He was lying and he could see it. Clint could see that he was lying to Loki's face, and Loki truly didn't seem to notice it. That wasn't all that Loki hadn't noticed. The Asgardian Prince didn't seem to notice that his drink from the agent of SHIELD had been drugged, but Clint recognized the effects of it right away. He had drugged Loki, to get him to go to sleep. There were no dreams as he slept in Loki's memories. There was only disbelief at his own actions. Shock spiraled through his own mind. It was enough of a surprising beginning for him to pay closer attention to what he was seeing.

Follow my voice, whispered through his thoughts. He wasn't sure about following a voice, but he could follow what he was doing, even if Loki couldn't. There was truth in the madness to be found. Clint just had to find it.