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)

32. Chapter 32

- Chapter 32 -

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

Vanaheim Royal Palace Guest Chambers

A soft whirring came from the auto-alchemy system on the side of the SITA-L. It was a strangely pleasant noise to Lady Aile. The freshly-made vivid orange-yellow potion trickled down into a small potion bottle. It had a potent herbal smell. Little bubbles churned up to the top of the liquid. She took the bottle and turned back to her patient on the SITA-L. "Herra Adalsteinn," the timeless Lady caught her patient's attention, "This potion shall dampen your tremors. Come, it is for you."

"Potion," the old Svartalfr from the 3rd Era gave the timeless Lady a blank look before it slowly dawned on him why he was there, "Yes, I came to you… for that, healer." Another blank expression came across the face of Bjarni of the Adalsteinn Clan before he remembered through the fog in his mind that he was still wearing his full-face hëlja. Normally he would have refused to take it off in the presence of so many people. This was different though. Standing behind him was one of the colossals, attending to him were two Norns, observing him were three firehawks with their wings out and another colossal. These were no ordinary people. He'd come to the land of the extraordinary. It helped him to feel more comfortable in removing his hëlja. Reaching up slowly, Herra Adalsteinn attempted to undo the clasps holding his hëlja to his tight-fitting black hood but was unable to. His hands were trembling too badly. They were weak in their grip. Bitter frustration stabbed into his mind. He wanted to be able to assist in his own care.

"Shall I assist you, Herra Adalsteinn?" Lady Eldbjorg made her offer of assistance to the elderly man in a tone of voice that told him that she was going to take his hëlja off.

"Yes, La-ady…?" He couldn't remember the second timeless Lady's name.

"My name is Lady Eldbjorg." She spoke as she reached for the clasps to Herra Adalsteinn's hëlja. Carefully, so as to not jostle the small old man, she undid the clasps and removed the thin, matte white, nearly featureless, reinforced porcelain mask with circular pitch black disks as eyes. It was set down next to its owner. Herra Adalsteinn's loose skin was so pale that she could see his blood vessels beneath it. His black eyes with once bright blue irises were dull and almost empty of life. The most colorful thing on his face was the small egg-shaped ovaloid mark at the center of his forehead. It was edged in grey with a rainbow of colors swirling inwards to the center. He was the last patient in this round of testing that they had to get through. She was confident that the potion for Gorm's Tremors was going to work as well for him as it had for the several thousand other people that they tried it on. If it did then he would be the last patient with Gorm's Tremors that they would treat.

"What potion," the old Svartalfr's mind fogged again, then grudgingly gave him the information he was wanting, "Potion. Potion? What potion is this?"

Lady Aile only paused for a moment before her gaze met James' and she smiled. This was the first patient to ask the name of the potion. Looking back to Herra Adalsteinn she said, "This is a Morgan's Stillness Potion."

"Morgan's Stillness? That's nice." He let Lady Aile assist him to get the potion down. There was compassion in her vivid violet eyes that comforted him as the bitter potion went down his throat. There was compassion in the expression of all the people treating him. It was unlike the dismissive contempt for his weakness that his family showed him. He was old and useless to them now. After a life spent working to ensure their comfort, they dismissed him as worthless. It would have hurt more if he could have more consistently remembered the facts of the matter. In the few lucid moments that Herra Adalsteinn had he was somewhat grateful for the fog so that he didn't have to see and remember their cruelty to him. It was only his son Kori who treated him with any affection. "A nice potion… They'll like that." A vague sarcasm entered his voice.

James could hear a darkness in the old Svartalfr's voice that spoke to him of how poorly he was treated at home. It bothered him to know that he wasn't going to send this elder home to a loving family.

"Excellently done, Herra Adalsteinn." Lady Eldbjorg's gaze went to the image of the old Svartalfr's brain that the SITA-L was projecting above him. The potion was bubbling up in and through his brain from his blood stream. The plaque rotting in Herra Adalsteinn's brain was dissolving and being cleared out. New nerves were growing to take the place of the fluid filled pockets riddling his brain. Everyone could see the strength of the potion as it worked in him. It was setting right the flesh and the seidr. The light of life filled his eyes again and he gasped in surprise. "Ah!"

Since the potion had worked exactly how they wanted and expected it to, James switched his soul song of stillness to a soul song of blessings and stamped Herra Bjarni of the Adalstein Clan's forehead with the song. It would give him some luck upon returning home.

Wondrously bright thoughts filled his mind. "The fog! The fog in my mind is gone!" Herra Adalsteinn's grateful gaze fell on Lady Eldbjorg. "I feel like myself again." His awe-filled gaze drifted down as he thought deeper thoughts than the names of colors or foods. That was when he finally noticed the beast. Sitting down on the floor behind the Norns was a strange brown, white, and black beast. It looked like a simple beast until he looked into its eyes. There was a piercing gaze there that made him uneasy, as though it understood what was happening better than he did. How strange this day is.

"We're very glad to have aided you, Herra Adalsteinn. Thank you for aiding us in this endeavor." The good colonel was very well pleased with the results of the latest iteration of Morgan's potion. There was so much to be pleased with concerning the results of the potion, the number of people helped, the percentage of people helped, and even a proper name for the potion from Lady Aile.

"You are fit to return home, Herra Adalsteinn. May thee fare well." Lady Aile smiled, satisfied, before she helped the old Svartalfr to return his hëlja to its place. She looked to her sister and nodded.

Nodding to her sister in return, Lady Eldbjorg turned away from her patient and spoke. "Lady Alvilde, come forward please." She paused to wait for the younger Norn to step out of the currents of time in deep azalea strands. A young, tall, copper red haired woman with deep brown skin and sharp yellow eyes stepped forward. "Return Herra Adalsteinn from whence you brought him."

"Yes, m'Lady." Lady Alvilde bowed respectfully to the handmaiden. She extended her deep azalea sjel-seidr to grip the old Svartalfr. He was quickly putting on his full-face hëlja.

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

Inside The Currents Of Time

Lady Alvilde pulled Bjarni of the Adalsteinn Clan with her as she stepped back into the currents of time to make for the Adalsteinn Clan on Svartalfheim in the 3rd Era. A smile would have spread across her face if her body hadn't already dissolved into the currents around her. The pride that would have filled that smile stayed in her thoughts instead. She was proud to be working alongside the handmaidens, colossals, and firehawks on a project that she was convinced would change the Nine Realms forever. This was a good day.

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

Vanaheim Royal Palace Guest Chambers

The look of life and light in Herra Adalsteinn's eyes brought a sedate smile to James' lips. He was swept away home so quickly that the good colonel wondered how much more the old Svartalfr's gratitude would have been had he time to be profuse. Since the potion had performed up to expectations, he turned to one of the younger Norn's who had come forward from the currents of time in champaign pink strands. The tall strawberry blond woman with vivid green eyes ringed in champaign pink. "Lady Solla, I need you to find someone who is in good enough health to withstand having powerful magics worked on them. They need to be of sound mind, and past the age of consent. They can be either a man or a woman. Since they're what we're starting out with it doesn't matter. Most importantly, they must be missing a major limb. They can have lost it through any means, so long as there once was a limb where it isn't any longer. Do you understand?"

Normally Lady Solla would love to have been verbose, striking up and keeping up a conversation with anyone. Instead of that she bowed respectfully to the colossal and replied simply. "Yes."

"Then you may go with my thanks." James was as comfortable in his leadership of these borrowed younger Norns as he was in his leadership of his Airmen back at General Benjamin Oliver Davis Jr. Air Force Base in California. They were all military officers, so it didn't matter if they came from different militaries. It was the decorum and discipline that bound them together. It was their honor that made things work smoothly.

Turning to Lady Aile and Lady Eldbjorg, James spoke to his friends. "Would you two mind observing, so that we can test the SITA-L?"

Looking between each other, each of them nodded to the other. Lady Eldbjorg was the one to respond. "Yes, that would be fine." Each stepped back from the SITA-L. A second later Lady Solla stepped back out of the currents of time with champaign pink strands surrounding her and the Dvergar with her.

The dwarven man beside Lady Solla was of average height for the dvergar, about six foot five inches with a broad well-muscled frame. His youthful appearance made James question just how far past the age of consent he was. His shining daffodil yellow eyes were keen and filled with excitement. His maroon hair was worn in long dreads reaching down to the middle of his back. He had a small but matching full maroon beard that was without ornamentation. It complimented his midnight black skin.

As James' soul song of stillness washed over the man in front of him he could feel the machine limb that was attached to the Dvergar's right leg. Before he could get farther than looking over the young Dvergar male, Lady Solla flared her sjel-seidr to him, to whisper, This man is of the Asketill Clan of Nidavellir. He wears the mantle of the Charming Child, which is tied to Birgir of the Asketill Clan and Dagmara of the Asketill Clan before him. Her sjel-seidr withdrew from him, leaving James purposefully holding on to the pleasant expression on his face when he would have scowled otherwise. Another one?! Do I have to kill another one? Stress increased his heartbeat. He bowed politely and spoke calmly to the youth before him. "My name is James. Would you tell me your name?"

Apprehension gripped the young Dvergar's thoughts for a moment as he looked to the owner of the voice who just spoke to him. There stood a colossal, white stone skinned and all. Colossals were dangerous creatures, and it wasn't wise to make one wait. It was even less wise now since this colossal was clearly the Ser who the Norns were answering to. They were all waiting on this colossal. "Blainn, Ser James. I am Blainn of the Asketill Clan of Nidavellir. May I ask where I am, or, or when?" He hoped he wouldn't be punished for speaking too much. A sharp mix of excitement and anticipation plastered itself across his thoughts as he wasn't punished. The excitement began when the Lady Norn came to him, and he realized that he hadn't run afoul of her. It grew as they traveled through the incomprehensible mass of pink knots that she called 'currents'. It exploded into full-blown eagerness as the good Norn explained to him that he'd been chosen because he was missing one of his legs. She told him that a colossal who was also a man wanted to study his injury. Norns and a colossal to speak to, it was like a children's tale come to life. He was eager to see what adventure he'd been whisked away for.

"You're in the Vanaheimr Royal Palace in the beginning of the 4th Era. Has why you were chosen been explained to you?" James picked up his micro laptop, saved and closed the current medical file, then opened a new one. He set it on an extension of his seidr off to his side.

"Yes, Ser James. The Lady Norn explained it to me." Trying to keep the excitement out of his voice was too difficult for Blainn to manage. He looked around excitedly, noticing that there were two other Norns near him. He could tell that they were Norns with their strange seidr cores and their pink rimmed eyes. Finally, his gaze fell on the group of firehawks. They looked to be meditating with another colossal, but he wasn't sure since their eyes were glowing through their closed lids. A shiver of excitement went through the young Dvergar as he looked over the firehawks' wings. They were mythic beings, yet they looked friendly, even though they were still. He wanted to see if they were friendly, wanted to talk to them if they would talk to him. Blainn wondered then if he even had anything to discuss that a mythic being would be interested in.

"And you understand that this is an experimental trial? This might not work, or it might cause more pain than we intend?" James wanted there to be no hesitation in the young Dvergar's mind. "What questions do you have for me?" When the young Dvergar didn't answer him, he asked, "Herra Asketill? Do you have any questions about what we're doing here?"

Questions, questions, Blainn thought happily, gathering his wits about him. "I have but a few questions, good Ser. What is the aim of this endeavor?"

"We're aiming to create a white seidr weaving system which will seamlessly replace a lost limb for mages and non-mages alike." James was almost glad that this Asketill had some questions for him. The other two Asketills didn't. Though he wasn't sure if answering those questions would make him feel any better when this Dvergar begged him for death.

Blainn's eyes widened. This wasn't what the Norn told him. Studying was what she mentioned to him. It was stunning to him that he might have been chosen for such a grand endeavor. "How many people do you aim to aid with this? How many can you aid with this, Ser James?"

"As many as there are who need aid, such as yourself." The good colonel liked how excited by the project Blainn was. It was a novel excitement that was lightening his mood.

This was a magnificent project, one that he could be a part of. Surprise took Blainn's voice away for a moment. In that silence he could hear his father saying that a life led in service of others, to better those lives, was the life with the highest honor in it. There was only one last question that he had. "Will I be able to aid others if I do this?"

A sedate smile spread across James' face. That was the best question he'd been asked so far. "Yes, you will. May I take it that I have your consent to participate in the experiment?"

"What would you have of me, Ser James?" Blainn hoped that his ancestors and his parents would approve of what he was doing, because he was committed to it now.

What would you have of me? Birgir of the Asketill Clan's voice rang out in James' thoughts.

What would you have of me? Dagmara of the Asketill Clan's voice resounded even more loudly in James' thoughts.

Part of James still wanted to cry as he thought about the two innocent people that he made cures out of. Part of him wanted to cry more because he thought he could see this young Dvergar's future. He could hear it in Blainn of the Asketill Clan's voice. What would you have of me, was echoing through time in James' ears. It was without a doubt the worst question that he'd been asked in this. He carried on anyway, knowing that meditation would eventually resolve the problem. There was no other choice but forward for him, because while he had the services of the Norns, he wasn't one himself.

Patting the bed of the SITA-L next to him, James moved on to the next phase of this experiment. "This is the SITA-L. You can think of it like an advanced Soul Forge." It was far more than just a Soul Forge. That fact didn't need to be brought up right then. "We can start with you sitting here, Herra Asketill."

"Please, Ser James, call me Blainn." It looked like a massive plain block of iron to the young Dvergar. There were hallmarks of machinery, but he couldn't say it looked more advanced than a normal Soul Forge. As soon as he sat down on the SITA-L a plush purple bedding coated the plain surface. It sprung up like little hairs weaving together to form something quite comfortable to sit on.

With a simple wave of his hand over the head of the bed part of the SITA-L James was able to raise the head up. "Why don't you lay back against this? It should be more comfortable." Blainn leaned back against the bedding without a word so James pressed a button on the side of the SITA-L to bring out the device's control panel. The panel rose up out of the side panel. The good colonel brought out the screen to begin the limb replacement process. Before he could begin there was something that needed to happen. "Could you take off your right boot and sock, then pull up your pant leg to the knee?"

The young Dvergar moved swiftly to comply with the instructions so that this could happen faster. He wasn't sure of how this was going to happen. He'd always been told that replacing the limb on a mage was impossible, that the white seidr couldn't be created in the new limb and so that new limb would rot off swiftly without that white seidr. Blainn shoved his sock into his boot and tossed them onto the floor beside him. There was something he wondered then. With two Norns watching him with unblinking eyes, he felt a timidness in what he was allowed to do. "May I speak?"

"Of course. We have no problem with you speaking if you need to. Is there something you need to tell me?" It lightened James' mood in a weird way that Blainn wanted to talk with him.

"Can you truly replace a limb?" Curiosity and wonder painted shades in Blainn's voice.

James thought over it for a moment and decided that there was no real reason to not use honesty. "Truthfully, not yet. That's why we need you so badly. We need to try to replace a limb, study the results, tune the machine, and do it all over again as many times as it takes to perfect the process."

"You are at the beginning of this endeavor then?" While he wasn't an old cavern wolf yet, he was certainly no pup. Blainn understood the gravity of what he was taking part in and was honored to have been selected for this. He worried that he wouldn't be good enough for what he was doing.

"We're in the beginning of the testing phase. Everything is theoretical right now. Be aware that this might not work. This might only work in part, or go wrong entirely. We don't know yet." James' knew that his own nervousness about what they were about to do was coming out. He reined it back in and shoved it into the back of his mind. "We'll take care of you. You don't need to worry about that."

"If you need my life to accomplish this magnificent endeavor then you may have it. I don't worry over you taking care of me. I worry that I won't be useful enough to you, that my life won't be meaningful." The worry he felt overtook Blainn's expression for a moment before the awe he felt at aiding those who sought to so fundamentally aid so many others overtook it. It was an awe fed by the sight of firehawks

The heartfelt words wrang in James' mind, not unlike other words. I am happy to give of myself, Dagmara was from the 1st Era. I love life… let me aid you, Birgir was from the 2nd Era. If you need my life… you may have it, Blainn was from the 3rd Era, nearly the end of it. They were all Asketill but separated by hundreds of thousands of years. The good colonel seriously started to wonder if the Asketill Clan were truly such wonderful people that they were so willing to give their lives to help others. It hurt him to think that he might end the life of another a good and honorable person. Is there no other way?

From James' seidr whispers Lady Solla could hear the slightest unease regarding the guest she'd brought with her. She wondered if perhaps her report on Blainn of the Asketill Clan wasn't enough. Swiftly she allowed her sjel-seidr to pass from her core to command it to turn into a Wavering Visions Weave that represented her memories of Blainn of the Asketill Clan one still-frame at a time. Lady Solla waited until James was looking down at the control panel to release the spell onto his eyes. The young Dvergar had looked immediately back to the firehawks who were still meditating and so didn't see the champaign pink sjel-seidr that lit up James' eyes as the spell played across them. Only a moment later James was done watching her memories. A satisfied smile crept across his face as he flared his seidr out to her to whisper, Thank you, good Lady. She was glad then that she'd shared more with him. He truly values what we Norns have to share.

So this is it then, why he's charming? I can't stand in the way of his fate. The polite smile on James' face turned a little warmer then, a little more genuine. When he looked up again, he felt more settled, like he could go forward peacefully. "Let me explain what's going to happen."

Blainn's attention immediately snapped back to James from the majesty of the firehawks. "Yes, Ser James," then he asked again, "What would you have of me?"

"I'm going to start by dampening your nerves and putting you to sleep. Then I'm going to use the SITA-L to remove your cybernetic prosthetic and set it to the side. Once it's removed then I'm going to initiate the procedure to replace the limb. I'll gather data on the results to study. Finally, I'm going to ask Lady Solla," James motioned to the younger Norn, "to move you back through time to undo what was done and reattach your cybernetic leg." He focused his soul song of stillness through his voice to make his words more reassuring. "I plan for you to wake up without any pain or mess. You'll be safe and sound." James let his soul song of stillness revert to its normal playing. "Do you have any questions?"

"This must happen many times?" Blainn didn't have many questions. Mainly he was eager to get to the work. Even though his part of it was to sleep, he was still excited and eager. His excitement shone brightly in his daffodil yellow eyes. An idea came into his mind as he thought about how many times this might need to happen. It was something he suddenly wanted and hoped that he had a real chance at getting.

"Many times many," James answered with more reassurance in his voice, "but we can stop at any point if you grow tired of aiding us. We won't think ill of you if you want to stop coming here." Thanks to Lady Solla he knew what was coming. It had to unfold in its own way in order to create genuine future reactions.

"No, no, that wasn't what I meant!" Gathering his thoughts, Blainn looked the man beside him in the stoney eyes and tried to keep his voice steady as he laid out his own plan. "Please, I beg you, hear me out Ser James, for I would like to do something a little different." Gathering his courage next, he spoke in what he hoped was a calm and measured tone, like what his father always used. "If you need to do this so many times over, would it not be best if I stayed here with you so that I might be available at any time?" He took a breath to steady himself. "I won't be a trouble to you. I can assist in whatever else needs doing here. I'm happy to assist in whatever tasks you have for me, even if it's menial." The firehawks folded their wings down then and opened their glowing eyes. Their meditation seemed done, and their eyes weren't glowing any longer. For a moment their eyes were pitch black with vivid sky blue irises out of more angular faces. The eyes lightened to pale white with rich brown irises, and their faces were normal again. It all happened so quickly. It was slow enough for Blainn to see it but fast enough for him to question if he'd really seen it. He was intensely curious about them now that he could see them moving around. All of the old tales that his mothers used to tell him at bedtime came back to him then. Firehawks were said to be dangerous, capricious, violent, and absolute; vengeful masters of fire. They were supposed to be more dangerous than monsters. Blainn couldn't believe that though. There was an overriding calm that pervaded the air around them, James and the other colossal too. It made them seem very approachable. Just then the other crystalline colossal transformed into a regular man, with the crystal covering him receding back into him under his skin.

Even the other colossal seemed approachable to Blainn. He was the size of a muscled dwarf, but looked Asgardian with his long blonde hair, full beard, and lightly tanned skin. Ser James looked like a dwarf with short hair who'd been turned to stone. The young Dvergar wondered how they all came to be in the same place, firehawks and colossals and Norns. As his father always said of interesting circumstances, "There's a story there." He wanted to know what it was. A sudden urge struck him clearly then. Blainn wanted to be the one to tell that story. There was no chance of that though. He couldn't imagine that anyone, even his own family, would believe him about the circumstances he found himself in. It was an untellable story. Despite that he still wanted to know the story, so he looked back to the colossal beside him and hoped.

"That's an interesting proposal, Blainn, and certainly practical. Let me ask my brothers. We'll see what they have to say." Turning to them, James called out. "Herb, boys, can you come here please?"

Herb, his husband, and younger brothers all turned at the sound of James calling them. "Is everything ok?" he asked as he walked over, "What do you need?"

James kept his posture easy. "Everything's ok." He motioned to the young Dvergar beside him. "I'd like to introduce you to our guest. This is Blainn of the Asketill Clan." James could see that Blainn hadn't heard the subtle accent he placed on the name of Asketill, but Herb and his brothers had. "He's come here from the end of the 3rd Era, about a thousand years ago. He was born about two thousand years ago. He's here to help us test and refine the limb replacement system in the SITA devices. I've explained what we're doing and how this is going to work to him. He has a proposal for us in return."

"Oh really? What's that?" Herb smiled at the young Dvergar who looked both nervous and hopeful.

"Instead of traveling through time whenever we need him for testing, Blainn would like to stay here with us for the entirety of the testing and refinement. We would grant him his own room sectioned off from ours, with his own things in it. He'll eat with us, sleep when you sleep," James motioned to the boys, "and help out around the room with things besides the SITA testing. So what do you think? Do you want to try this, or no?"

Morgan immediately signed his acquiescence, I have no problems, so long as he isn't under foot. He'll need to be taught to sign.

"We can handle that." James had no problems with Blainn learning sign language. Learning new things would keep him busy during lulls in activity.

"I suppose it'll be fine," Arno said after a moment more thought then Morgan gave it. He smiled gracefully and spoke softly. "Blainn," he began, "do you like to cook or bake?"

"I can make spiced dried hjort," a little embarrassment spread across Blainn's face as he spoke, "My second mother taught me her recipe." He didn't know how to make anything else. His second mother and father, who were his father's second wife and first husband, always liked to do the cooking and baking for the family.

Arno waved dismissively at the young dwarf's embarrassment. "Don't worry, I'll teach you more."

James couldn't help but notice the obvious pensiveness on Anthony's face. It was understandable and reasonable, so he flared his seidr out to this younger brother, He'll see what we show him. Nothing more and nothing less. I'll make sure that he's safe. I promise you that.

It was what Anthony needed to hear before making up his mind. Like his brothers he didn't mind having company, especially someone from the Asketill Clan. They were good people. He wasn't well though, and he knew it. Anthony worried over having a fit in front of a stranger, or even worse, injuring that stranger during a fit. It wasn't surprising to him that Rhodey was willing to handle the safety of everyone. Him and Herb did it all the time anyway. Nodding once, he spoke. "A guest sounds nice." He smiled warmly at Blainn. "My name is Anthony," he motioned to his younger brother, "This is Arno, and," then motioned to his older brother, "this is Morgan."

"My name is Herb. Welcome to the guest room." He also smiled warmly at their guest while flaring his seidr out to his brother, Do you want me to see to his safety? His seidr withered back to his core then.

I'll do it myself, you keep your eyes on the boys, James flared his seidr to Herb in return before flaring it out to Lady Sjofn, asking the good Lady, Do you mind if I expand the room again? The timeless Lady gave her permission so his unfolded seidr mounted into a copy of the Learning Spell that absorbed his memories of what he wanted, a copy of the First Spell of Precise Recording, and finally a Conjuration Spell. Before he released the spells he switched his soul song to the soul song of perception. He sensed the elastic wards holding the room out of time again to find another place for him to expand the room. Only when he'd found the perfect spot did he snap his fingers to release the spells together. More garnet lines of light encompassed a section of the right side of the room. Warbling screeches came from them as they worked to expand a new room, with a door and center light, into existence. In the new room more things began to appear; a hardwood framed, plush bed with thick pillows, a hardwood side table next to the bed with a lamp on it and a drawer in it, a small hardwood writing table with a thick leather-bound journal and handsome peacock feather quill with a fin tip and jar of black ink sitting on it, another small lamp sat on the writing table, next to the writing table was a hardwood chair with a comfortable cushion on the seat, next to the table sat a small bookshelf that was filled with all manner of books from serious to silly, and lastly a dresser drawers appeared filled with clothes and shoes. Off to the side of the bedroom was a small bathroom with a sink, mirror, toilet, small tub, shower, and fluffy towels and fine herbal toiletries. Everything was ready for the young Dvergar so James' seidr stowed back into his core.

Astonishment told Blainn that he was right to call him 'Ser James' as even the other colossal and three firehawks were answering to him. The Ser was powerful enough to have earned their respect. The young Dvergar could respect that.

Looking back to Blainn, James smiled a little wider as he spoke and motioned towards the closed door. "That room is your room. It should have everything that you need, but if it doesn't, please let me know."

An ear-to-ear smile spread across Blainn's face as potent relief moved through his mind. He didn't think it would be so easy to stay. He was prepared to fight for it, to lay out his plan plainly on why he could be of use to them beyond what they wanted. They simply accepted him in like a new friend. It amazed him. "Thank you! I give you my bond that I won't be a bother or a burden to you. I swear it!"

A little chuckle came from Arno. "Don't worry about that. If Rhodey," he motioned to his older brother, "accepts you here, then we can trust you." He balled his fist then tapped his index finger on his lips. "It's a shame though. We don't have much more time tonight before it's bedtime, so why don't we start cooking lessons tomorrow? That sounds fun." A puckish smile touched his lips.

"That's wonderful! Thank you!" This is a dream. They cannot be this easy to approach. They cannot be this friendly. Are all the legends a lie? Let me find out! Blainn couldn't believe his good fortune. It seemed like an absurd dream though, to take cooking lessons from a firehawk. It seemed to him like their interactions should be more serious, more stately. It also seemed like they weren't going to be. The future ahead of him was like an undiscovered land. There was the tempting prospect of new and exciting discoveries without any apparent dangers. It was almost too much to think about. Raw excitement sent shivers through his limbs. Blainn was ready for those discoveries now.

James almost smiled a little wider when he heard the excitement to meet his brothers in Blainn's voice. The young Dvergar was honestly excited just to meet James' family. What didn't surprise him though was that there was no darkness in Blainn's voice; no mistrust, fear, suspicion, or disgust. They were entirely absent, and so his trust of the young dwarf began to grow. He hoped that it would remain that way.

"Come on, we shouldn't get in Rhodey's way." While it was nice to meet their new roommate Anthony wanted to work a little bit more in the UI sprite for the SITA devices. It was almost done this time, he was certain of it.

It was nice to meet you, signed Morgan to Blainn. The silent man didn't mind when Anthony pointed to him and spoke to their new roommate, saying, "He says 'It's nice to meet you', and it is." Morgan bowed lightly then turned and went back to his alchemy workbench. His golden sands were fighting to escape with all six of its limbs from their runed and warded vial made of tempered volcanic glass. Anthony bowed as well and turned to go to his workbench. Arno bowed after that and went to his kitchenette. Setting his hand on James' shoulder, Herb nodded once to his brother and spoke. "I'll be cleaning the argol out of the wine barrels if you need me, brother. Lady Ingalill still wants to try cream of tartar."

"Mm, have fun with that, brother." James nodded to Herb before his brother took off for the fermenting area. Lady Eldbjorg and Lady Aile were still waiting patiently for him. Turning back to Blainn, he spoke again and asked. "So, are you ready to begin?

"Yes, Ser James." Blainn laid back against the raised head of the SITA-L and waited patiently for more instructions.

The young Dvergar looked ready to go so James brought up the control panel and selected the commands for the SITA-L to extend its seidr into the body of its patient. The device did so smoothly. Next, he typed in the commands for the SITA-L to dampen Blainn's nerve functioning relaxing his muscles and put him to sleep, anesthetizing him. The young dwarf's eyes slid closed quietly. Next James selected the commands to bring out the first iteration of the limb replacement technology. From out of the bed of the SITA-L came two thin arms each with half a thin square on either end. They closed the square around Blainn's right leg where the cybernetic prosthetic joined with the flesh. Three quarters of the way up the young Dvergar's shin from the ankle, the prosthetic leg joined smoothly to the flesh. It was covered in a perfect flesh-looking sheath to hide the cybernetic prosthetic from view. It was amazing compared with what was currently available on Earth. James couldn't help but marvel at its beauty through the SITA-L's scanners for just a moment. James wanted an exploded view of the limb so that he could study its design and each piece that made it. Maybe later.

Instead of continuing to admire the dwarven technology, James selected the commands for the SITA-L to take control of the circulatory system to clamp down on the blood vessels in the leg, right down to the smallest one, to prevent any bleeding. The SITA-L complied promptly. After that came the commands to remove the prosthetic limb. James looked to Lady Solla and spoke. "If this somehow goes wrong, I want you to take him back through time to save his life, but only to save his life. I'll ask you to move him through time otherwise."

The younger Norn nodded solemnly. "Yes." She could feel the handmaidens watching them all.

With that taken care of, James selected the final commands to activate the system. A razor thin white beam whirred into existence at the top of the inside of the square around the leg. In a fraction of a second the molecular cutter sped downwards to sever the cybernetic prosthetic just a micrometer past the joining. A thin layer of flesh was left stuck to the cybernetic prosthetic without any blood oozing from it. Of its own accord the SITA-L moved the severed limb off to the side. The square around the leg separated and folded back down into the bed of the SITA-L. Eight little arms with seidr pens at the tips of them rose out of the bed to surround the stump of Blainn's leg. A white-blue and orange streaked light began to glow in the crystal tips of the seidr pens as they were filled with seidr. The light grew steadily brighter until they were too brilliant to look at. James brought his micro laptop to him again. It was ready to go again. He began to take notes on the process as he observed it while stowing his seidr back into his core.

When the pens were filled with seidr from the SITA-L's cores they converged on the fibula and the tibia. Through short strokes the pens drew new bones into existence. The bones glowed with white seidr before they settled down. It was a slow and deliberate process that stuttered frequently. When both of the two new bones were done all eight of the seidr pens shook then deactivated. Steam rose off of the finished ends of the bones. James was impressed that it got so far in the first use. The eight arms with the seidr pens folded back down into the bed of the SITA-L then. That was as far as the process could go, so the SITA-L withdrew them. Accessing the SITA-L through his micro laptop let James gather up the data from the procedure. He began uploading the data to the mechano-magical server in the room. He was certain that the most interesting data would be the scans the SITA-L took of the white seidr in the bones.

Since the procedure was done, James turned to Lady Solla and asked for her assistance. "Can you please move him back through time to reattach his prosthetic?"

"Yes, James." Lady Solla kept her disbelief to herself. Instead of gawking she passed her sjel-seidr from her core then commanded it to move the young Dvergar back through time until his leg was made whole again. A ghost image of Blainn situated over top of him vibrated lightly as he was moved backwards. The slow strokes of white seidr were undone, taking the bones with them. Then the cybernetic prosthetic leg moved back over to perfectly realign with the stump it was connected to. The clean cut was undone to make the leg whole again. With the leg whole the ghostly image of Blainn faded away leaving the unconscious dwarf behind.

The Ladies Aile and Eldbjorg both raised their eyebrows as an expression of their surprise. The machine hadn't gone all the way through creating a new limb. They still considered this proof that with further work the machine could do what James wanted it to do, replace a limb whole. Lady Aile flared out her sjel-seidr to Lady Eldbjorg to whisper, They have conquered wet-lung, and Gorm's Tremors. I think they might be able to conquer limblessness as well. Lady Eldbjorg smiled lightly as she flared her sjel-seidr in return, I do agree.

A wide smile crossed James' lips as he selected the commands on the control panel for the SITA-L to withdraw its seidr from Blainn and shut down the limb replacement system. It did so quickly which allowed Blainn to wake up smoothly.

When he opened his eyes, everything looked the same as it had when he closed them. Blainn wasn't sure what to make of it, but it didn't feel right to him. What wasn't right was an uncertain fog filtering in and out of his thoughts. He wanted to be able to put his finger on what he didn't like about waking up to nothing having changed. Something else was needed, he decided.

"Is something wrong?" The emotions playing plainly across the young Dvergar's face told James that something was amiss.

"No," Blainn said slowly, "It's not wrong…" He tried to put words to his fuzzy thoughts, he continued on. "I'd hoped to see something, ..ah, different, when I woke."

"I see." Swiftly James unfolded his seidr to mount into a Wavering Visions Weave and Learning Spell that absorbed his memories. He snapped lightly to release the spells together into a little movie that played in front of Blainn.

It showed the young Dvergar what happened from the time he fell asleep to the time that he awoke. Under other circumstances the two bare bones protruding from his leg would have unnerved Blainn. It didn't though as he watched those two bones be drawn into existence from what he thought was a strange white-blue or orange seidr. "It," his voice was a whisper, "cannot be." The bones didn't rot off like he thought they should. They steamed for a few seconds, that was all. It was impressive to him that the SITA-L was able to do that. He also thought it was interesting what it looked like when the Lady Norn moved him back through time to reattach his leg to him. It was all so fascinating to him that it showed him what he was dissatisfied with. "May I watch as it happens next time?"

It left a good impression in James' mind that Blainn wanted to know more. "I don't mind trying, so long as we can make it safe for you."

The dislike Blainn previously felt cleaned up completely. Another excited smile touched his lips. "What do we do next?"

"The data has to be studied to make refinements in the system. I don't know how long that will take, a few days probably. For now, it's time to get to bed. Have you had dinner? Are you hungry?" James asked politely.

Blainn's stomach answered with a long, slow, creaking rumble that sent embarrassment chasing across his face. His gaze darted down then back up again. He hadn't eaten that day. He spent the day cleaning out mischievous nisse from the tunnels around the clan's cavern fortress. The nisser had taken all of his attention. "If you have something to eat," Blainn's spoke slowly and looked around, "I could eat here if you like."

"We have a table over here," James motioned to the large round table and chairs, "so let me get you something to eat." From out of his interdimensional pocket, he summoned a plate filled with a roast turkey leg, twice baked potatoes, bacon sautéed green beans, and a brandied apple-cranberry compote. The plate was wrapped in butcher's paper with Bundling Runes covering it. It fell lightly into his hands. Unfolding his seidr he mounted it into a Soothing Palate Ward that he sunk into it past the paper and into the food beneath. James didn't want Blainn to have an allergic reaction to any of the food that he was offering. His seidr stowed back into his core. "Why don't you get your boot back on. You can have dinner after that."

Blainn didn't think that he'd ever gotten a sock and boot on so fast as he did then. Hopping off of the SITA-L, he took a step away from it, then turned back to look at it. There were the seeds of a miracle sleeping in the plain looking iron box. He wondered what else was in there. Not wanting to keep a colossal waiting he turned back to Ser James and found the colossal in front of him had changed. The white stone was sinking back into his skin, showing him a half-Dvergar looking man beneath it. Short brown hair and hard brown eyes met him. "O-o-oh. This is you, Ser James?"

Smiling, James nodded towards the table and talked over there, saying as he walked, "This is what I normally look like." A little chuckle gusted out of his lips. "You'll get used to it, and you can just call me James."

"No, no," Blainn shook his head and he followed behind, "You are in command here. All six of my parents would have my hide if I was so rude to you. 'Ser James' it is."

James smiled at the young Dvergar as he set the meal down on the table. He summoned a glass and a carafe of chilled coffee. Those were set down next to the meal. "When you're ready to eat, press this rune. It'll open the package for you. This," he pointed to the carafe, "is coffee. If you don't like it, I can get you something else to drink."

"This is very well. Thank you, Ser James!" While Blainn had no idea what coffee was, he was glad to have something to drink. He didn't know how James was pulling food from his interdimensional pocket. It prompted a curiosity in him about what the food might have been. Ser James turned and went to a desk over near the door to his room. The three Norns went with him. They sat in chairs next to the desk and the door to his room. My room, it was a happy thought for him. The lid came off the carafe quickly enough and he poured himself a glass of chilled coffee. It was bitter but not biting, vaguely sweet at the end without being overpowering. There was a richness in the drink, just a hint of smokiness too, that washed deliciously across his tongue. Blainn loved it as much as he did the beer his clan produced. It was a wonderful drink.

The rune on the top of the paper package was waiting for him, so he touched it gently. The paper moved up then fell off to the side like a flower blooming and wilting within seconds. The very second that the paper peeled back the sumptuous smell of a luxurious meal filled the air around Blainn. It wasn't just the smell that was wonderful. It looked better than even his second mother and father could produce. There was silverware on the sides of the plate that he picked up; a four pronged straight-handled fork and a small knife that wasn't very sharp. Gently, he approached the food with his fork. There was some sort of baked vegetable with a mashed vegetable in the baked skins of it. It drew his attention before the other vegetable looking food with little bits of meat in them did. There was a leg of roasted meat that Blainn thought was probably from a bird of some type. Finally, there looked to be some sort of apple dessert. He recognized the smell of apples, but not the warm smell of the spices and berries mixed in with them. It all made his mouth water before he began tearing into it. He was halfway through enjoying the plate of food when he realized that his second and third mothers would fret over what he was eating. He didn't know whether it was Culinary College approved or not and suspected that it wouldn't be. A small frown almost moved his lips down at the thought of having to repent his food transgressions to a member of the Culinary College's Holy Chef's Body. Blainn thought that he could be forgiven since the food was given to him by a colossal. Spurning any gift that a colossal had to give could be a violently unwise idea. Everyone knew it. Even if Ser James had been nothing but cordial, he still wasn't going to take the chance to irritate him.

When Blainn finished his meal, scraping the plate clean, he had another glass of coffee. He turned his seat around so that he could watch the people who were in the room with him. Ser James was still working at his desk on paperwork for something. The two Norn Ladies were working on healer's orders. The third Norn was standing behind them waiting. He wondered if the orders were for him. They probably were, in his estimation. The silent firehawk, whose name he remembered was Morgan, was sitting at an alchemical workbench. He was working on pearlescent potions and a golden sand that Blainn would have sworn was moving on its own. He wondered what it could be. Next his gaze went to the firehawk who introduced himself pleasantly as Anthony. The second firehawk was putting together a small machine in a ball. The young Dvergar recognized the small, enchanted crystals that Anthony kept reaching for from a little bowl next to him. Those were the type of crystals that went into memory cubes. Blainn wondered why he needed so many of them. Then came the little firehawk, Arno. He looked like a beautiful woman, but the young Dvergar could tell from the powerful thrum of his seidr core that he was a man. 'Honeypot' was the first thing he thought of. Arno was indeed a person dressing like the opposite gender, but he wasn't going to be rude enough to refer to him in undignified parlance. As with Ser James, Blainn didn't want to irritate any of the firehawks either. The same sense of awe suddenly overtook him as before. Firehawks are real, he thought happily.

There was something else, someone else, that caught his attention then. The other colossal, Herb, still looked like an ordinary Asgardian to him. If he hadn't seen Herb changing from a being of pure crystal into that of a man, he would have thought that he was ordinary. No. I'm the only ordinary person here. Blainn didn't mind though. They hadn't tried to make him feel lesser despite that fact that he was. Besides awe, curiosity began to filter into his thoughts. He wondered why they had accepted him into their presence so readily. He didn't have much longer to wonder though before Ser James called out to the firehawks, telling them it was time for bed. Each of them stopped what they were doing and used Restoration Spells on themselves before using Conjuration Spells to change their clothes into night clothes. There were three beds stacked up one over another that they headed for. And just like that they were in their beds, without pomp or ritual. The young Dvergar could easily feel the Arno and Morgan extend their seidrs to surround Anthony as they all went to sleep. He wondered why the firehawks did that, if it was just something that firehawks did. Are they dreaming together? Blainn was so interested in what he was seeing that he didn't mind when Ser James looked to him and called out, "Time for bed." It was time for him to see his accommodations behind the door.

Turning his chair back around left him face to face with his empty plate and glass. Blainn wasn't sure wat to do with them, where to put them. All he could think to do was to sprout his apple red seidr from his core to ripen it into a Restoration Spell that he used to clean the plate, glass and silverware. His seidr flowered back to his core then. He left them stacked neatly on the table with the strange runed paper neatly folded underneath it, before heading to his room. A strange brown, black, and white beast with a heavy body, short stocky legs, and long floppy ears sat in front of his door. Blainn bent down in front of the beast and offered it a closed fist to sniff it. The beast didn't though. No, the strange animal raised one of his paws and set it on top of his fist, pushing it downwards. Slowly, carefully, he knelt down in front of the animal. "Ath heilsa, little one." The beast huffed at him in a way that instantly made the young Dvergar think that it understood him. That couldn't be though, at least he didn't think it could. "Can you excuse me please?" He spoke softly to the beast, stroking a hand down the back of its very soft head. The beast immediately moved out of the way to stand beside the door. "Thank you." Then the beast huffed at him again, and he swore that it smiled at him. Did it just wink at me? Shaking his head to clear it of the ridiculous thoughts, he looked ahead of him as he stood.

The door to his room was a thick, heavy, white wood that he finally noticed matched the floor and walls. White wood with silver hinges and a crisp Vanaheimr pattern on it. Despite the weight of the door, it still opened easily for him. He almost jumped as he turned when he heard, "Have a good night, Blainn," from Ser James. "Thank you, good Ser." A light placed in the center of the ceiling came on as he entered the room. It bathed the room in gentle white tones. There were two other lamps, one beside his bed and one on his writing table. Blainn looked around the room and was amazed that he'd been given so much. A bed and some food were all he'd expected. This was so much more. There was a small switch that was by the door that he pressed. The center light turned off, then on again as he pressed it a second time. "Ah, I see." Looking at the lamp on the writing table he saw a similar switch on the base of it. It too turned the light on and off again. The handsome black leather-bound journal drew his eyes away from the lamp. The edges looked like they were coated in ruby dust. There was a handsome quill tucked into a stand next to a pretty little jar of shimmery black ink. There had never been a time when Blainn had journaled. He was a mage, that was true. He didn't keep a mage's journal though. It was odd to him that this had been included in the things he was given. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with it. I'll deal with that later. The next thing that caught his attention was the dresser drawers. Each drawer was filled with articles of clothing that when held up to himself showed him that they would fit. There was a selection of everything that he needed, including night pants. There were even three extra pairs of boots in his size in one of the bottom drawers. "How did he know?" he wondered to himself. It struck Blainn as he looked over the furniture again that it looked very minimalist at first glance. The longer he looked at it the more he felt that it was the wrong impression to have. It wasn't minimalist, it was just waiting to be filled with many different things. It was waiting for him. His gaze traveled to the second door next.

Another heavy white wood door led him to a small bathing chamber. The tub with a shower and sink he recognized right away even with the strange curtain blocking off the tub. The other piece of porcelain with water it in and a strange chemical smell to it puzzled him though. Fortunately, there were embarrassingly graphic little diagrams of a round-headed little person using the watery device. "Oh." That wasn't how things in the Elder Realms were handled and he wondered where the colossals and firehawks were from. It was going to take some getting used to. Shaking his head to clear out the embarrassment at the little diagrams, Blainn turned to the small tub and shower head up off to the left. Taking a quick hot shower to calm him down some sounded like a good idea.

His clothes were left sitting on top of the dresser drawers, with his boots on the floor. The shower had another smaller diagram that told him how to use it. It worked smoothly, pleasing him greatly. The hot water poured over Blainn's skin to comfortably relax his muscles. Following on the theme of what he'd found so far, there was a selection of herbal liquid and bar soaps for him to use. Some had floral scents, others were earthier. One bar of soap smelled like a forest to him. It was the bar of soap at the end that he liked the best. It had a woody, earthy, warm smell, somewhat like a flowery tree. The All-Speak translated its label as frankincense and shea butter. Blainn knew what neither of those things were but decided to use the soap anyway. A Restoration Spell was always easy to use and he even liked how simple it could make things. It was still nice to take a proper shower or bath with some nice smelling soap. His third mother, who was his father's third wife, liked to take the time to make nicely scented soaps for the family. Blainn always thanked her for making them for him. The lush smell of the soap had started him thinking about his parents. He couldn't stop thinking of them now.

Over and over, he considered what his parents would say when he returned to them. Blainn didn't doubt that they would proud of him. He seriously doubted that they would want him so near colossals, firehawks, and Norns. Each of them were unreasonably dangerous beings, and all three existed in this place. What he was doing had to be worth the danger he thought he might be in if he didn't mind his manners. That thought actually helped to settle him even more into what he was doing. So long as he exercised the manners he was raised with then he felt that he should be safe. 'You'll be safe and sound.' 'I don't mind trying, so long as we can make it safe for you.' James deliberately made statements to reassure him that his safety would be seen to. As he washed away the stress of the day so too did he wash away the last little doubts that his mind could raise. One of the colossals was seeing to his safety. That wasn't insignificant protection. Instead of doubts his mind began to raise questions. Did these two know the other five colossals? How did they become colossals? Or were they colossals that became men? Could the other colossals become people? How did they meet the firehawks? How did they meet the Norns? He turned off the water to his shower and stepped out, reaching for a fluffy towel.

As he dried his maroon dreads and beard, Blainn's thoughts went to Vaennsnot (Beautiful Lady). She was a small-building-sized fidrildi (butterfly) made of living crystal that inhabited the midlands of Nidavellir. She liked to travel with the other fidrildi as they migrated between homes, safeguarding them as they moved. On a sunny day she was said to be a great Rainbow Cloud that descended from the heavens. Herb was made of the same living crystal. He was without wings though. What manner of colossal was he? Blainn wanted to know. He continued to dry himself and think. What manner of colossal was Ser James, being made of white stone? His thoughts drifted to what he'd heard of the Hunter of Waves on Alfheim, Hridfjodr (Storm Wing). It was a small-building-sized white stone hraesvelgr hunting bird. It lived on the ocean cliffs near the capital city protecting the braces of the smaller hraesvelgr that lived there. He was a fierce and a majestic bird. It could be argued that both of those colossals were capricious. Blainn didn't think they were though. Both had mysterious motivations, abilities beyond understanding. There was no possible communication with them, so they were wholly unknowable. Unknowable wasn't capricious. He didn't think it was. So, if he couldn't know what the other colossals' motivations were, could he know what Ser James and Herb's motivations were? Something tingled in his intuition that told him that he might be able to.

Putting the towel over the bar holding up the tub curtain, he stepped out of the tub then the bathroom back into his bedroom. More excitement tinged Blainn's thoughts as he put on his night pants. A little amusement lifted his lips into a smile when he sat on the bed. A strangely frustrated chuckle came from him. He knew he was going to have a hard time falling asleep that night. There were just too many exciting things whirling around in his head. Something strange tingled in his mind then. Inexorably his gaze was drawn to his left. The bookshelf was what he saw first. He didn't want to look at the books right then. Next came the writing table. The thick journal was still sitting there, waiting for him. Suddenly his attention narrowed down to that journal. It was all he could see. The handsome book was so alluring then that it drew him bodily to it.

Blainn sat down at the writing desk and opened the journal to see what the pages held. They held nothing. All of the pages in the book were empty. His gaze went to the quill and ink then back to the journal. Blainn knew what to do with it now. He was almost sad when he thought that not one else would be able to see the tale he was about to tell. Then he thought that it didn't matter, so long as he could know the tale himself. Blainn picked up the quill, opened the ink bottle, dipped the quill into it then began writing in the journal. The words encompassing his experiences flowed out through his tidy angular penmanship. Though his experiences were brief he still recorded everything exactly as it happened, amending things with his personal thoughts and observations on them. Even the strange beast was written about. By the time he was done clearing his whirling thoughts out of his head he felt tired enough to actually get some sleep. So off to bed he went. The plush bed was so comfortable that it only took him a few minutes to fall into a restful sleep. His dreams flowed like a luminous river where Norns danced with colossals and firehawks nested in the gigantic trees by the orange sandy banks of a green ocean.

Two loud knocks woke Blainn from his pleasant dreams. Through the door he could hear Ser James' voice saying, "Breakfast is almost ready," then another two loud knocks came. The young Dvergar sprouted his apple red seidr from his core to ripen into a Restoration Spell. It cleaned him and the bed then made the bed quickly. Instead of conjuring clothes Blainn took clothes out of the dresser drawers. The fit was as immaculate as the fabrics were comfortable. New clothes, new boots too, went on quickly and easily. Then he opened the door to go to breakfast. He didn't expect what he saw when he stepped back out into the main room. The firehawks were setting the table for several people, including the colossals and one of the Norns, even him. It amazed him that Ser James was serious when he said that Blainn would eat with them. He hurried over to the table. The strange beast was in front of his door again. A few pats on the head, and some scratches behind the ears got the beast to move so that he could get out the door.

Arno was putting out the silverware at each spot when he saw Blainn coming over to the table with a smile on his face. "Put a glass out at each spot," he spoke cheerfully to his newest student, "please and thank you." He'd taught many people over his decades of being a professional chef and chocolatier. Very few excited him to teach. Teaching one of the Asketill to cook felt a little like repaying some of the great debt his family owed to them. We owe them two lives, he thought, wondering if they would end up owing the Asketill three lives if Blainn died under their care.

As Arno was setting out the silverware, Anthony was setting out the napkins, folded into fans with golden napkin rings. His thoughts were already drifting towards the UI sprite. Its defenses needed to be put through testing before he could truly say that it was done. It was so close to finally being done that it was making Anthony anxious to not have it done. The UI sprite was so integral to what he wanted to do with the SITA devices. He needed it to be perfect without question. He needed it now but had to exercise a bit more patience. Looking up, he noticed Blainn helping to put the glasses out at their places. When Rhodey first started treating sick people from across the Elder Realms, he thought that they looked like oddly colored and sized humans. The differences didn't bother him. In truth, they made him more excited to travel through the Elder Realms and meet the people there. As for Blainn, Anthony felt that the maroon of his hair, beard, eyebrows, and arm hair nicely complimented the black of his skin. It was the lively daffodil yellow of his eyes that interested Anthony the most. There was a curiosity and intelligence there that he liked. A special jovial glint was what interested him the most when he noticed that there was no judgment in it. When he spoke Anthony could hear that there was no deception in Blainn's voice either. It drew a genuine smile from him. Anthony wondered why he was there though. He knew that Rhodey had a purpose for him, and that purpose wasn't just testing the SITA devices. There was almost always an ulterior motive to what his older brother did. If Anthony wasn't convinced that it was a motive to help the family, then he would have been offended. There was no offense at what his older brother did. There hadn't been for decades. All that remained besides an unbreakable trust was a voracious curiosity. When he felt it was time then Rhodey would reveal what he was doing. Anthony knew that too, so he sat down at his place for breakfast with everyone else. Blainn was seated across the table from him so Anthony considered a conversation. His hand dropped do to his side below the table. A soft head filled his hand. He ruffled the hound's fur on the top of his head before he patted the hound a few times.

Setting all of the glasses down, Blainn moved around the table. He turned suddenly and came face to face with a Dvergar Norn. She was back again that day. Her entrance was so seamless that he wondered if she left at all. "…I," Blainn began before getting his mind in gear, "Would you like to sit here, Lady Norn?" Blainn pulled out the chair in between them from the table.

Nodding once towards the young Dvergar in front of her, she spoke then. "Thank you." Lady Sjofn took her seat and waited for James to set out the food as he did every morning. The young Dvergar beside her had trace amounts of nervousness in his seidr whispers. It was clear to her that he was anxious to be in her presence. With repeated exposure he would grow more comfortable with her.

Nervousness edged his thoughts to be so close to a Norn. "Yes, ma'am." Going to find a seat for himself showed him that the only seat left was the one next to the Lady Norn. He sat quickly and quietly to avoid offending anyone. A little more nervousness streaked through his thoughts to be sitting next to one of the keepers of fate and masters of time. Lightweight hope crossed his mind that he wouldn't have to make conversation with her, as he didn't know what he would talk about.

Once everyone was seated James summoned many paper wrapped bundles that were covered in Bundling Runes. He extended his seidr to touch the tops of each package and the carry them to the table. While everyone else stayed seated, James stood and began to serve people. With every plate he collected with his extended seidr there came a list of desired foods from the person the plate went to. Blainn simply told him to get whatever he felt was good and James smiled at that. He rotated through dishes and plates serving everyone at the table until everyone had what they wanted. Everyone else was served before the good colonel finally served himself breakfast and sat down to eat. It pleased James to see how smoothly breakfast went with the newcomer.

A friendly smile crossed Anthony's lips, and he looked up to Blain, who was working on some bacon. "So Blain, tell us some about yourself." He took a sip of his coffee, noticing that his brothers were now paying attention. They were curious like he was.

Setting his fork down, Blainn smiled and looked to Anthony. He was proud of his family and proud of his clan, proud to share them with anyone who wanted to listen. "Of me? Yes!" he paused to think, "I am Blainn of the Asketill Clann, and Agnarson as well. My first father is Agnar. My second father is Kjarr. My third father is Finnur, all of the Asketill Clan. My first mother is Bothildr. My second mother is Elva. My third mother is Hreidunn, all of the Asketill Clan."

"What do you mean second and third parents? Like step-parents after a divorce?" Anthony could see the pride in the young Dvergar's yes when he spoke of his family. It was relatable since he felt a great deal of pride when he spoke about his brothers.

Normally Blainn would challenge anyone who suggested that his parents had separated to a duel. Not only could he not challenge a firehawk, but he didn't think that Anthony meant any offense by what he said. "No, none of my parents are separated. They all live together happily."

"Wait, you mean you have three fathers and three mothers, and they're all married?" It seemed odd to Arno that so many people could be in one marriage. Polygamous relationships never made sense to him. He couldn't imagine sharing Herb with anyone, or Herb sharing him with anyone. That was strictly a no-no.

The curiosity in the firehawks' eye told Blainn that they didn't have large marriages like the Dvergar did. It was fine, only the Svartalfr had large marriages as well. Even then, they only allowed three people in the marriage. "Yes. They are all wed to my father. It's the way of our people that the clan leader should have a full marriage. All of my younger siblings and I are the children of all of our parents. We all share the responsibility of family, and the love of it."

Two short knocks again the table came. So, you're the oldest of your siblings?, Morgan signed to Blainn.

James looked from his younger brother to Blainn and spoke. "Morgan asked if you're the oldest child in your family?"

A wide smile crossed Blainn's face. "Yes, I am the firstborn of my father."

"How many siblings do you have?" Anthony joined in the questioning.

"I have thirteen other siblings, but I'm the only child from my first mother. Mother Elva has gifted us with many children. Mother Hreidunn has gifted us with several children. All of my siblings are wonderful. I love them all." Blainn couldn't have been more honest with his feelings on his siblings. The moments he had when he wasn't attending to the clan's business were spent teaching, mentoring, and playing with his younger siblings. He'd always thought that it was because he was two hundred years older than his next sibling. He was more of an adult when compared with them. Because of that he liked to help with their raising, with his mothers' and fathers' permission of course. Blainn's heart swelled for a moment as he thought about his siblings and how long he was going to be away from there. Reaffirming in his mind that he was doing the right thing helped him to not tear-up without them. They would be safe with the clan while he was gone.

A sudden misty sheen came over their guest's eyes that Anthony noticed right away. "Are you ok, Blainn?"

"I will be away from my siblings for a while, but this is the honorable course of action. I know that they'll be proud of me when I return, however old they are." His gaze drifted to his plate, filled with exotic and wonderful food. His siblings would have loved the pancakes and syrup. The food wasn't much comfort without his family.

"You shall miss no time with your family." Lady Sjofn's quiet voice commanded the young Dvergar's attention.

"Lady Norn?" Blainn had already lost a day with them, he wasn't sure what she meant.

"You are outside the bounds of time now and shall be moving through time to return to the exact second in which you were taken. You shall not age outside of the bounds of time and shall miss no time with your family. Worry not. You shall lose no time."

Appreciation and surprise widened Blainn's eyes as he looked at the Lady Norn. "Truly?" When she nodded once to him, he smiled gratefully and gave a little bow. "Thank you, good Lady! Thank you so much!" Turning to his hosts he asked, "Would you like to hear of them? They're good children." So, breakfast moved on with Blainn using a Wavering Visions Weave to show the Rhodes brothers his siblings, his parents, his home deep in the cavern fortress in the Asketill mountains of Nidavellir. Like the cool southern winds that roved over his homeland, Blainn wandered over many subjects concerning his homeland, his clan, and his family. They were all beloved to him. The one thing that the Rhodes brothers didn't ask him about was how he lost his leg. He was glad that they didn't. There was a certain amount of embarrassment that came with confessing that he'd been attacked by an enraged nisse that he hadn't taken seriously. He thought it but a dirty runt with a small knife. It was more than that. It was why he went on patrols to clear them out now, to keep others from making the same mistake that he did. In an instant Blainn looked over to Ser James and he knew that the half-Dvergar looking man knew. It was in Ser James' eyes. He knew but wasn't saying anything. By the time breakfast ended Blainn was honestly surprised by how many things they'd asked him about, were actually interested in hearing from him. He was honored that his family and home were worthy of the attention of mythic beings.

The food was done so James scooted his chair back, said, "Breakfast is done. You may be dismissed from the table," before looking over to Anthony. "Herb and I will be working on the white seidr patterns for the limb replacement system. Why don't you finish up the sprite while we're working on it?"

Anthony gave him a cheeky little salute and a wide grin before he poured himself another glass of chilled coffee. He took his glass and left the table for his workbench. His cybernetic hound followed after him.

"I'll be making bread if anyone needs me." Arno stood and went over to Herb, giving him a kiss before going to his kitchenette. He went to lay out the ingredients for a lesson in bread making.

Morgan didn't bother to tell them what he was going to be doing, they all knew anyway. His golden sand creature was calling to him again. It needed a more permanent form, and it was time for Morgan to give it.

Growing his seidr from his core, Herb bloomed it into a Restoration Spell. The spell swept over the table to clean the dishes and napkins before he broke down the spell and withered the seidr back to his core. He turned and went to his chair by James' desk. They had work to do.

Blainn head spun a little as the table cleared out quickly. Even the Lady Norn went to sit and read. It was a type of small book he'd never seen before. It seemed to have thickened paper as a cover instead of a proper worked leather cover. When his gaze drifted to Ser James, he smiled at the half-Dvergar-looking man's smile. "If you need something, ask for it," Ser James told him before turning to join Herb. A little bit of timidness crept into Blainn's thoughts. He had been offered cooking lessons from Arno, but how to approach a firehawk to ask for the offered lessons was a little uncertain. He didn't want to seem demanding, or needy, or overly friendly. Nibbling on his lip didn't help him to find an answer. He was plotting out how to approach Arno diplomatically when he heard a voice beside him that nearly made him jump.

"I have all the ingredients laid out. Are you ready?" Arno almost chastised himself when the young Dvergar came close to jumping in surprise. He'd forgotten to make noise when he approached Blainn. His brothers could always hear him unless he was stealthing around. Their dad forbade him from doing that a long time ago. He reminded himself to be more careful around their guest.

"Ah, yes. Yes, of course." Blainn wondered how Arno had gotten so close to him without him hearing anything.

A hairband was summoned from out of his interdimensional pocket, and handed over to Blainn. Arno had a slightly amused, slightly apologetic look on his face when he spoke. "You should pull your hair back. You don't want the flour to get into it." Motioning to the kitchenette he spoke again, "Let's get to it then. You have a lot to learn."

And so it went that Blainn spent his days learning how to cook and bake from Arno; learning alchemy and sign language from Morgan; learning engineering and bad puns from Anthony; learning brewing and fermenting from Herb; learning random things and sparring from James; learning to enjoy Vanaheimr dramas and giving pets with the hound. Even Lady Sjofn taught him bits and pieces of Nidavellir's history. It was exhilarating for him that they were willing to teach him whilst working on their own projects. Every night he studied for the next day. When he was done studying, he wrote in his journal, transcribing everything he'd seen, heard, and experienced that day, as well as his unfiltered thoughts. There were so many lessons that even if he wasn't outside of time he still would have lost track of time. Day in and day out the pages of the journal began to fill as he had much to detail. The journal became his anchor in that timeless place, letting him know how long he'd been there.

The only break he took in his lessons was when James called in the Ladies Aile and Eldbjorg to work with him to 'take imagery' of Blainn's lost leg. It was one such day where James called him over to the SITA-L, weeks after the first time that they'd done this. He went over expecting more imagery but that wasn't what he got.

James closed up the lid of the SITA-L after replacing the cuff of the limb replacement system. He had real hope that this new one from Anthony would work better. The micro seidr pens showed real promise, more so than the last seidr pens Blainn was standing by his side by the time it was sealed in place. It was time to try again.

"More imagery, Ser James?" Blainn sat on the floor briefly, taking his right boot and sock off and setting them next to the SITA-L.

"No," James offered Blainn a hand to pull him up off the floor, "We're going to try again." He patted the bed of the SITA-L. "As soon as you're ready."

The hopeful glint in Ser James' eyes brought a hopeful glint to Blainn's eyes. He wondered how much farther the SITA-L was going to get this time. Sitting and turning quickly, he got himself into place and waited as the good colonel put up the bed of the SITA-L for him to lean against. "May I watch this time as it happens?"

"I think we can make it safe enough for you to watch." James tapped the head of the bed twice and a UI sprite emerged swiftly.

It floated around him to stop on his forward left side, beeping twice. "How may I assist you, Colonel Rhodes?" Its voice was a set of stilted female tones.

"Sprite, I would like you to begin limb replacement on this patient's right lower limb. Leave the patient awake please. Set notifications to active. Set notifications to vocal, and begin." A small amount of nervousness filtered into James' thoughts. This was the real first test of Anthony's UI sprite.

"Scanning," the sprite droned out, "Prosthetic limb detected. Scanning for joint. Joint detected. Obtaining genetic model." The sprite settled on Blainn's shoulder as a needle came out to prick his skin through his shirt. A small sample of blood was drawn up into it. "Analyzing genetic sample." For a few minutes the UI Sprite hovered silently above the young Dvergar's shoulder. "Analysis complete. Modeling replacement limb." The sprite traveled down over the left leg to scan it thoroughly. Another few minutes later it spoke again. "Modelling complete. Limb replacement procedure beginning. Control of the nervous system engaging," the sprite extended the SITA-L's seidr up into Blainn to dampen his nerves. "Blood vessel control initiated." The sprite extended more of the SITA-L's seidr up into the young Dvergar's body to take control of his blood vessels to cut off any chance of significant bleeding. When that was done, "Prosthetic limb removal proceeding. Molecular cutter engaging." Instead of a cage surrounding Blainn's leg a white line was projected out of the SITA-L that he was sitting on. It took less than a fraction of a second to neatly sever the prosthetic limb from the flesh and blood one without any blood loss or pain.

Despite knowing that James wouldn't let him come to harm, it was still unnerving for Blainn to watch his prosthetic leg be cut off cleanly. Truly, it was only because he was completely numb while being awake that he was able to be so calm for the procedure. An image of a filthy, scaly skinned, hairy, little nisse with a grin full of sharp teeth and a pointy hat flashed in his mind. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead. Blainn had to remind himself why he was doing this. The purpose behind the cutting was so grand that he couldn't help but be motivated forward by it.

The sudden sweat across Blainn's forehead and face caught James' attention. "Are you alright, Blainn?"

"I'm well, Ser James," his eyes stayed locked on his leg and what was happening, "Perfectly well." The sprite moved his prosthetic leg to the side. There was a thin, bloodless slice of his flesh attached to it.

"Prosthetic limb removed," the sprite began again, "Placing limb replacement cuff." Out of the SITA-L came a circular cuff supported by four slender robotic arms that widened to the circumference of it to match Blainn's right calf. The black metal cuff paused at the edge of the clean cut. Orange and white lights lit up around the center of the cuff, imbuing the cuff with the power of orange seidr and the precision of white seidr. The seidrs were ready to use in the micro seidr pens. "Limb replacement cuff fully placed. Beginning white seidr limb replacement." The cuff began to spin slowly as the seidr pens extended from its interior. Bright flashes of white seidr came from the seidr pens as the black cuff rotated slowly downwards, leaving bones and muscle behind it. Ripples of connective tissue curled up here and there. The cuff didn't stop until it'd gone down over where the foot was supposed to be. Just as it got to the toes it shuddered, paused and finished. "Regeneration critical failure." A red light was flashing from the small spherical sprite.

Blainn gripped his leg tightly at the knee. Fire was suddenly starting to chase up his leg despite the nerves being dampened. He could feel the nerves' sensations running haphazardly through the new bone and muscle. They weren't settled right.

A little sigh swept out of James' mouth. Two of the toes were missing and none of the limb had skin or even all of its muscle. Only the bones were fully formed. However, it was easy to tell that this calf and foot wouldn't match the left one if it was fully completed. Worst of all was that Blainn was hurting. Although it made progress, this was still a failure in James' eyes. There was still more work for him and Herb to do. The data collected from the SITA-L was more essential to that now. Looking to Lady Sjofn, he spoke. "Can you bring him back through time and reattach his prosthetic limb, please?"

"Yes, James." She bowed lightly towards James before looking to the young Dvergar. It was only in her eyes that her admiration for the Rhodes brothers showed. Her face maintained a polite expression as she passed her sjel-seidr from her core. It was commanded to take the young Dvergar back through time until his leg was made whole again with the prosthetic limb, so she had to fulfil that command. A vibrating ghostly image of Blainn settled over top of him as he was moved back and made whole. The ghostly image vanished once he was properly moved back through time. The fire chasing up his nerves was halted and reversed.

It was odd to Blainn in the extreme that he could move backwards through time while leaving his mind intact. It reinforced to him how powerful the Norns were. If one Lady could undo so much experience, then how much could many of them undo? He didn't get a chance to think about that before James spoke to him.

"I need to ask you more specifically how you felt when the limb was grown out?" James smiled reassuringly to the young Dvergar.

"There was searing pain. It began abruptly them moved more forcefully through my leg." Blainn motioned towards the bottom half of his leg then going up to the top half.

"I need to know how you would rate the pain you felt on a scale of one to ten. If one is no pain, and ten is the worst pain you've ever felt, how would you rate what you felt?" The good colonel recorded Blainn's answers with his own thoughts on them.

It was odd to 'rate' pain, but Blainn complied, nonetheless. Giving it thought for a moment he answered. "An eight, I believe."

"I'm sorry about that. That wasn't my intent." James reached out gently to put his hand on the young Dvergar's shoulder. He'd had a solid grip on his leg, enough that it told James that something was wrong. He bent down and grabbed Blainn's boot and sock off the floor and handed them to him. "Here." His mind was already delving into the designs to see where he could make improvements to the white seidr pens. Herb was going to be more heavily involved this time. Reproducing the patterns that his brother was able to create was what he needed to do. How to do it was the problem. Maybe micro runes… Once again, he downloaded the data from the SITA-L on the procedure into his micro laptop then quickly began uploading it to their private mechano-magical server.

A relieved smile touched Blainn's lips. He was glad that it was over, and even more glad that the test wasn't a failure. Progress was made. That was important to him. It meant that him being there wasn't a waste. While he appreciated everything he'd learned in his time there, he knew he was there for a specific reason. Learning new things wasn't it. Aiding the Elder Realms was why he was there, to ensure that no one else suffered the same type of lasting injury that he had. After he'd put his sock and boot back on Ser James assisted him to get off the SITA-L. The older man patted him on the shoulder then went over to his desk, calling Herb over with him. Lady Sjofn nodded to Blainn and went back to reading in the sitting area. There was nothing else for the young Dvergar to do, so he looked over 'the boys', as Ser James called them. Anthony had wandered over to Ser James to see how things went. Morgan was still out on a walk through the Vuurlanden on Muspelheim. Blainn was eager to see what alchemical treasures he brought back to the guest room with him. Arno was making more food and bundling the dishes into paper wrapped packages that went into various people's interdimensional pockets. A warm smile spread across his face when Arno lifted his head from his work, gave him a cheeky grin and beckoned him over. It was back to cooking lessons for him.

"That looked pretty rough." Herb's deep voice was quiet as he spoke to James. He shrugged slightly. "Better than the last time."

"Still a failure. We're just not reproducing your patterns accurately enough." Putting his hands on his hips, he let his gaze drift down to the floor. "Maybe if we use micro runes we could copy all of the patterns you produce."

"I know you don't want to give Blainn false hope, but it might be easier for me to produce a leg for him, and you can study it. I think he'll be able to handle it. He may be a kid, but he understands why he's here and what we're trying to do. He wants to contribute to the cause." Herb went about trying to persuade his brother to be less stubborn and more receptive to accepting help from alternate sources. It was always difficult though, since James had accepted assistance from others who'd turned around and tried to harm the boys.

"How much damage will we do by giving then taking a perfectly functioning leg from him?" Herb was right, and James knew it. It would be easier if he could study Herb's white seidr patterns on a living being. All he'd had so far was the patterns preserved in crystal. It didn't react in the crystal like it did on a living being. Sooner or later, they were going to have to do what Herb was suggesting. James thoroughly disliked the thought of intentionally harming one of the Asketill. He sighed then as his frustration with the Asketill reemerged. He didn't want to harm someone so honorable. He acknowledged that part of what made them so honorable was their willingness to be harmed for the greater good. That didn't mean that he enjoyed harming them or looked forward to it at all. It just meant that he'd come to an understanding of the fates of those he'd met.

The hesitation in his older brother's eyes told Herb everything he needed to know about what James was thinking about. He understood it, and even agreed with it. He also knew that they both knew what needed to happen. "Best to get it done sooner than sitting with it hanging over our heads."

"Let's," there was only the barest frustrated pause in James' speech, "run over the data a few times before we go down that avenue." It was really only a stalling tactic so that he could come to acceptance of what he had to do. James would never say that he was anything but ruthless when dealing with people who were trying to harm his brothers. He never imagined that he would have to exercise that same ruthlessness when dealing with people who were actively and earnestly trying to help them. It wasn't sitting right with him, and probably wasn't going to any time soon.

"I can explain it to him, if you want. He'll understand." Anthony could understand Rhodey's distaste at potentially harming Blainn. He also understood that it was only a short term problem if they could reproduce Herb's patterns mechanically. Those white seidr patterns were the key to replacing limbs on a mass scale; the key to replacing Blainn's limb. The young Dvergar would understand that.

Waving off his younger brother, "That won't be necessary," James reiterated, "Let's run through the data so that we have a better idea of what exactly we need." Let's not scare him just yet.

A shrug and an, "Ok," later Anthony's gaze darted between their mechano-magical server and James. "Did you upload the most current data?" He was eager to get started working with it. Seeing how his UI Sprite performed was the most important thing to him. Anthony felt like the basic sprite was perfect, but he had to admit that Rhodey kept finding ways that it needed to be upgraded. They were good upgrades too, ones that he was happy to make. The sprite wasn't as perfect as he initially thought it was, but that was alright. It was getting closer to perfection with every upgrade. She's going to be perfect, he thought happily before heading back to his workbench.

It made Herb happy to see Anthony happily working. It made up somewhat for knowing that James was so unhappy about what they were going to have to do. "What do you need from me?"

"More crystal slides. Can you make the engine points bigger, so I have a better view of them?" James thought about it for a moment before deciding. "Maybe two inches in diameter on the slides?"

"Alright, let's get to it." A sedate smile crossed Herb's face as he brought his soul crystal out from under his skin. With that he was ready to create more life.

Blainn's gaze was drawn away from him to Herb and Arno didn't mind. The sight of his husband crystalized was enough to draw his admiring gaze too. He knew that the young Dvergar wasn't admiring Herb the same way as him, or having the same lustful thoughts, but there was still admiration in Blainn's gaze. "So, to start this dish we peel four large potatoes." He handed a peeler to Blainn and went to set out the rest of the ingredients. With at least one hand free he placed a hand over his belly and pulsed a little seidr to his daughters.

Though they were outside of time their time together seemed to overlap and flow forward. The rest of the day ran out and the time to sleep fell on them. While the boys went to their beds Blainn went to his room to write in his journal. Every night he wrote, chronicling his days spent with mythic beings and how comfortable he'd become with them. His interactions with Lady Sjofn moving him back through time and his thoughts on it were most of what he focused on. Night flowed into day and the time outside of time moved on. Days became weeks became months before James was ready to test the recently-upgraded SITA-L's limb replacement system on Blainn.

One last deep breath helped James to settle himself before he called Blainn over from working with Arno. They were making twice baked cheesy potatoes again. They were really good at making those, and James looked forward to having them for dinner. Truthfully, he'd rather be eating what they were cooking than doing what he was about to with the recently-upgraded SITA-L. Even Lady Sjofn's stalwart presence couldn't help him to feel better.

Herb put a steadying hand on his brother's shoulder. "James, don't worry so much. We'll both be watching over him."

"We can't undo what seeing it might cause." That was the real problem for the good colonel.

"He'll understand," Herb stressed, "Let me explain it to him." Before James could take responsibility for this he moved to verbally intercept his brother. "He's my friend too, and I owe him just as much as you. We all owe the Asketills for their gifts. We all want to take care of him."

"It's my responsibility." James persisted stubbornly.

Others might have been offended by James balking at them handing it, but Herb wasn't. He knew that it wasn't that James didn't believe in him. The 'problem' was James' overbearing sense of responsibility in all things concerning the boys. James' father told him to take care of the boys, to be responsible for them while him and their mom were away. And so, he was responsible, for everything, even when he didn't need to be. "You know how to delegate. And you can step in if you think I'm messing it up." Herb smiled consolingly, squeezing his brother on the shoulder. "Let me do this for you, brother."

In one of the few times that James' stubbornness ever gave way, it did give way to Herb in that moment. It wasn't the loud soul song of stillness coming from Herb that made him acquiesce, but instead the internal acknowledgement that he was being needlessly stubborn. "Ok, ok. I'll let you handle it."

"Thank you." He took his hand back and turned towards the young Dvergar in the kitchenette. "Blainn, do you have a moment?"

Right in the middle of hand mashing the potatoes Blainn froze looked up to Herb. "Ah, I am…"

"He'll be right over." Arno took the masher out of his young assistant's hand and shoo'ed him out of the kitchen. "I can finish this, go on."

That Herb was standing over with Ser James was different than the usual. Normally it was either just Ser James and Lady Sjofn or Ser James and the Ladies Aile and Eldbjorg, sometimes with the Lady Magnhildr as well. Herb hadn't actively participated in the testing just yet. It was particularly strange because Ser James had the expression on his face that Blainn had come to understand was the expression he wore when he was upset and trying not to upset anyone else. "Are you well, Ser James?"

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me." James used his most soothing voice which he focused his soul song of stillness through so that Blainn would believe him and be comforted.

"We'd like to do something a little different today," Herb started, making sure that he had the young Dvergar's attention, "I'm going to be the one working with you. James will be observing. Is that alright?"

"Yes. This is well." A tinge of excitement worked its way through Blainn's thoughts. Something new was happening.

"Great!" Herb held his hands in front of him, calmly. "What we'd like to do today is have me fully restore your leg so that James can study it. After that Lady Sjofn will pull you back through time, like before, to undo my work. This is all part of the process to recreate limbs. Can you handle that?"

There was a certain sort of joy in thinking about having his leg fully restored. It was one that his mind rebelled initially against giving up. Blainn still understood it well though. He couldn't stop himself from understanding and acting on that understanding. This simply wasn't about him. This was about the millions of people who needed replacement limbs in the Nine Realms. Blainn knew that he needed to be the means to that end instead of the end itself. So, he shoved that joy into the back of his mind, forcing himself to relinquish it for the time being. In letting go of his own joy Blainn hoped that he could assist to bring joy to others. A smile spread across his face as he thought again about all of the people whose lives he was going to better. "Yes. What do you need me to do?"

"Take your sock and boot off, move your pant leg out of the way. Sit on the edge of the SITA-L and hold still for a few moments. This shouldn't take long." Herb moved around to the other side of the SITA-L to work on Blainn's right leg.

With Blainn getting himself ready James had the time to summon his personal seidr scanner from his interdimensional pocket. The small eight centimeter wide by eleven centimeter long by three centimeter deep rectangle made of enchanted parts and enchanted tempered glass immediately hovered up from his hand. There was a thumb sized circle on the face of the device and a larger circle at the top of the device. It's projected out its holographic screen from the smaller circle. It let him set his commands into it. It floated over and started doing orbits around the area where Herb was working.

When the young Dvergar was positioned on the edge of the SITA-L, Herb knelt down in front of Blainn's legs to put his hands on him and explained what he was doing as he did it. "I'm going to touch your calf where the prosthetic is joined to your flesh." Without a protest stopping him he set his large hands exactly where he said he would. Switching to the soul song of life, his personal soul song, he said, "I'm going to detach your prosthetic now." He sang his song to sink it into Blainn's flesh. The flesh shivered beneath his touch then and then withdrew from the cybernetic prosthetic slowly. The prosthetic leg simply fell away painlessly to the floor when he was done. The metal clanked loudly when it hit the floor. He looked to Blainn to see how he was doing. The young Dvergar's gaze was locked on his leg. There was no fear, so Herb continued. "I'm going to grow out a new leg now."

Using his song, Herb listened to the white seidr that was flowing beneath his hand. He reached deep into Blainn's DNA to stimulate it. Clean bones filled with marrow, nerves, and blood vessels burst out of the stump of a leg. Blazing white seidr patterns swirled down the bones. The two bones grew downwards until they reached the ankle then stopped. Herb moved his second hand down to hover over the ankle, controlling the white seidr that he found there. He continued to grow the bones out through the ankle and into the foot bones, all still swirled in white seidr. Despite there being no flesh, the bones and nerves were held together as they were grown out into a full foot. The very last set of bones making up the toes were grown out. With the bones and nerves in place Herb stimulated more growth. Flesh grew from off of the bones into muscles, connective tissue, more blood vessels and nerves. More swirling white seidr patterns blazed over the flesh as it was grown.

The seidr scanner kept orbiting above Herb's hands. Its scans would give James another way to view this event. He continued to observe, having switched his soul song of stillness to the soul song of blessings so that he could sense at the white seidr patterns. It was going well so far.

The muscle was done so Herb grew the skin over top of it, growing the maroon leg hair over that. To make it easier for James to get good scans of the patterns he pulsed his soul song of life through Blainn's white seidr. The patterns flared up brightly for several minutes. Turning head to look over his shoulder, Herb asked James. "Are we good here?"

The scanner was done taking the scans that James needed. Nodding his head, James waited for the damage to Blainn to be done. "Lady Sjofn, could you move Blainn back through time until his prosthetic leg is attached?" He waited for the objection to losing the leg that he was expecting. It didn't come.

There was no pain in what he was doing, unlike so many of the other times when there was scorching pain. There was however a nebulous disappointment in Blainn's mind that tried to sharpen into something more, but he refused to allow it to. It was a miracle that he was about to lose. It was a miracle that the rest of the Nine Realms was about to gain. He knew his fathers and mothers would be so proud of him. He was representing his clan well by doing this. That knowledge took the disappointment and throttled it hard. A misty sheen covered his eyes as he looked down at the miracle that was slowly coming undone as he moved back through time. Blainn had finally seen just what they were trying to do here. It was so beautiful. He knew that when they were done it would be lasting. The prosthetic leg reattached itself and he smiled widely and looked to Herb. "You can create miracles! You hold them in your hands."

"It's not a miracle. It's just a song, Blainn. I just know how to sing it." Herb held honest humility in his voice.

"It is a miracle, Herb." Blainn stressed the point that he solidly believed in.

The awe in Blainn's eyes honestly surprised James. His brothers were correct, and he could see it. The young Dvergar did understand and could handle what they were doing. It almost seemed like insanity to him to have found someone genuinely willing to repeatedly give a limb in service of others when there were billions, maybe even trillions, of others who wouldn't. Of all the people in the Nine Realms, somehow Blainn found his way to them. He was just who they needed, just when they needed him. "No, Blainn. You're the miracle here."

Thank you, Asketill Clan.

24May2023 – Outside The Bounds Of Time

Vanaheim Royal Palace Guest Chambers

The pale-eyed freak stood hidden wearing the hunter's black garb, watching. Always watching his Starks. There was satisfaction for him to be gained from watching his Starks working to recreate a colossal's miracle. It was another example of them walking in Helena's light. More than that, they were working with one of the Asketills, who were one of the most creative and industrious peoples in the Nine Realms. They couldn't always hold his attention, however. His gaze drifted down to his mage's journal and the enchanted pen that he always wrote in it with. He had finished the protocols that would let his cure be used most effectively. He wasn't sure why he was waiting anymore. He wanted to say that he was stuck in the guest room with his Starks, but that was a lie. He could exit and enter the room any time he wanted. No one would see him coming or going. He wanted to say that he could fool even the colossals, but that too was a lie. He could only slip past them because they didn't know how to look for him. Once Rhodes and Willems found out how he was coming and going, it was going to be the end for much of his secrecy. Is that such a bad thing, he wondered, to lose the secrecy? It was hard to think about setting the secrecy aside and stepping back into the light where he came from. He knew that Helena's light in particular would burn him alive if he stepped into it, but there was a temptation to do so anyway. He was tempted to go to her. She lived in Rhodes' archives now, in a row with the bodies of the Elder Starks. She deserved so much better than that. He wanted to give her everything, but it was too late for that. All he'd been able to give her was agony and a brutal death. It was a death that she still forgave him for, despite how responsible he was for it. I could deliver my cure to the Elder Realms through Rhodes, he thought recklessly, and then go to her one last time. For all the time that he'd known her he knew that she was special, not just to him. Her grace was why he chose her to be the mother of his Starks; why he took the time to convince her of the worth of the cure; why he made sure that Josiah didn't touch her soul. He always tried to tell himself that he was only taking care of a precious asset that all the good luck in Yggdrasil had delivered to him in his time of need, but that was yet another lie. It was the lie that let him walk away from her coffin beneath a tree, with Josiah and a baby in tow. Now that it was time to set down the Operant Flame, to slay Josiah, and to find his own end in cold ashes it was harder to tell himself that lie. The dark and long ignored parts of his mind that contained the man he used to be whispered to him, You know you lo…, that was as far as the whispers got before he silenced them and cleared his mind. The pale-eyed freak put a hand over his chest again, feeling the hardness beneath his shirt. It wasn't time for the truth. Only when he could stand before her coffin and tell her of his success with his cure, apologize to her one last time, could the truth be handled. Until then, it was just another thing that he couldn't allow himself to care about.

24May2023 – Mid-Afternoon

Wyatt's Creak, Wyoming – The McCorrmick Family Lands, A.K.A. The Lands Of The Satska Soledras Clan

"Over 99% success rate, you're absolutely certain about that Dr. Watson?" The success rate was bringing tears to Doc Fischer's eyes. There were so many McCorrmicks that he could have saved with this drug. It was something that'd been out of his reach up until just a little while ago. Now that this long awaited dream come true had been dropped in his lap he felt like mourning.

"Yes, Dr. Fischer. We studied it for over twenty years. If you would come work for us, there's more that you could see." Her voice came through the Director Fury's cell phone loud and clear as she tried to temp the old doctor to come and work with SHIELD.

"I'm well enough where I am," was his automatic response. "Thank you for the offer though, and thank you for your time. We'll talk again later." He ended the call then handed the phone back to Director Fury. "And thank you for letting me talk to her. It's been too long."

"You know Dr. Watson, Doc?" There was nothing but truth in the female doctor's voice. That too was reassuring to Matt.

"I spent seven years teaching her how to be a doctor. She was one of my best students. I didn't expect her to get into research," he replied a little absently since he was looking over the report the Matt had handed him about the tenerene again. There was a large crate of the drug sitting on an exam room table now. He went to open the secure crate, to get Matt his first dose.

"Doc?" Matt thought he knew what Doc Fischer was after, but he wanted to speak with his Eideshan and his rathsvidr about it first.

Doc Fischer turned sharply to face the younger man who he'd brought into this world more than three decades ago, with a dose of the tenerene and a syringe in hand. "You can talk to Mary and the kids about it later," he put up his hand to silence Matt, "And yes there are others who need this as well. We'll make sure that they get it too, but this is a medical issue and you get yours now." The old doc had never been overruled by Matt in matters of medicine. He wasn't going to stand for being overruled today, not when the safety of the clan father could be so easily secured.