Running Ember: Wolf Shifters of Norse Lore

Chapter Five

It was late afternoonby the time they closed in on Thorleif’s mom’s pack. Three miles before arriving, hunting parties had gone out to hunt wild game. Eight dead boars, a few does, and one elk, lay by the feet of those waiting to do the offering as they stood at the edge of the bubble.

Matt, Hati, Geri, and Freki stood in their naked human forms with Thorleif, waiting for the huge Warlord’s signal. He seemed to be waiting for something in particular as his gaze sought out the mucky air ahead.

Matt had asked Geri and Freki what they saw as they closed in, and they were completely blind to it, but Hati had revealed that he could see it and behind the protective border of shadow. He could also see the big creatures stalking closer among the trees. They were apparently what Thorleif had been waiting for because now he stepped forward and into the shading.

“Mother!” Thorleif shouted. “I’m here to visit my mother!”

Matt noticed Thorleif didn’t speak Norwegian now. Nor Danish or Swedish. It was a mashup that he understood most of, yet it had a bit of the singsong tone of the sibling languages and more tongue-rolling r’s.

Two Warriors stalked closer in the darkness of the shading just inside the bubble. Matt remembered it to be far darker when he’d just risen and not yet merged with his V?lsung side, so he could only imagine how especially Geri and Freki would see it now that they stepped inside the bubble with Thorleif. Hati could probably see everything Matt could.

“With Vargr?” a Warrior asked, leering at the Alphas.

“Yes. We have interesting news.”

“We heard of it. The rise of Sk?ll, Hati, Geri, and Freki. That they run here.”

A big Bitch who looked old but still strong came toward them with a just as big male, both in their V?lsung forms. The V?lsung in Matt stirred, wanting to impress her. “Hello, son. Do you run with them?” She looked over Matt, Hati, Geri, and Freki with an almost scrutinizing glance.

“Yes, Mother,” Thorleif confirmed.

“And why are you here?” the male asked.

“We’re going home,” Thorleif stated, and his mother’s gaze immediately snapped to him, her eyes suddenly shining with hope and thirst to prove herself. At least that was how the V?lsung in Matt felt at the statement, so it wasn’t a far leap to think that those were the emotions he saw stir in the old Bitch’s eyes. “We’re the closest we’ve ever been, but my Warlord wants more to follow him there.”

The male sneered. “Then he can come and claim my territory himself!”

Thorleif nodded and stepped back.

Matt nodded once, and the four of them shifted to Vargr. That made the male bristle, so Sk?ll rolled into his V?lsung form and landed on all fours to stare at the Warlord. “Run with me to our territory.”

“A bitten Vargr thinks he can gain V?lsung what no full Warlord has managed yet?”

Sk?ll grinned cockily. “Yes.”

“Hubris.”

“No. Knowledge of V?lsung’s blind eye lets me see the path.”

The Warlord snorted. “What path?”

“One of peace, but there will be battles on the way.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Only to the ones too blind to see the path.”

“And what lets you see?” Thorleif’s mom asked, coming closer.

“I use more eyes than my own, and I listen with more ears than my own.” Sk?ll grinned because being cryptic awoke curiosity, it seemed. Especially in the Bitch whose help they needed. Sk?ll looked at her. “And you hold knowledge I need.”

“Do I now.” That seemed to amuse the big Bitch.

“Pieces of the puzzle to finish the map.”

She perked up. “To home?”

“Home,” Thorleif confirmed, stepping up next to Sk?ll. “We are now a pack of five hundred V?lsung.”

“Running with almost six thousand Vargr Alphas,” Sk?ll added.

The Warlord’s expression changed, and he looked off, sending his wolf ahead. “Yet you enter here alone.”

“I don’t travel the north to conquer you for more territory up here. We have another territory to take back for Fenrir! And it’s to the south.”

“And you know where?”

“I’ve seen it. So yes.”

The Warlord mates looked at each other, thinking.

“Tell me of your pup and why he’d follow a V?lsung bitten Vargr,” the male urged Thorleif’s mom.

Thorleif’s mom looked at her son, and pride in strength was easy to see. “Because my son steadfastly serves Fenrir and will seek victory by any means necessary.”

Thorleif purred. The huge-ass V?lsung purred at his mother’s praise. “And you, Mother, hold knowledge we need to fulfill our mission set forth by Fenrir. Let’s take them home.”

“If they still exist, pup,” the old Warlord growled.

Thorleif’s mom snarled at her mate.

Sk?ll joined in. “There will be no room in the North for V?lsung who forgot their place and seek thrones for themselves!”

Thorleif lowered his head and moved closer, drooling. His mother joined her son, glaring at her mate.

“No other races survived,” the old Warlord said. “Only Vargr and a few bands of Sleipnir.”

“Yet you did hear the power of the Chaos Stallion as we landed in Troms? three days ago, correct?” Sk?ll asked. The old Warlord perked up at the mention of power. But what was his intention to do with it if it landed in his hands? Sk?ll didn’t trust him. “He runs with me now. And J?rmungandr gave us safe passage.”

“You lie.”

Sk?ll sneered fiercely and advanced. “Never. Question. My honor or dedication to the objective! I don’t need to play petty games of deceit when I hold the power of truth.”

“That’s a Vargr thing,” Thorleif told his mother. “It’s why I trust him. He has shown nothing through his actions to indicate his words are hollow and empty.”

“I recognize you, Warlord Sk?ll,” Thorleif’s mom said.

Her mate glared at her.

“Take this territory by force, Warlord,” Thorleif said. “If I may, of course.”

Sk?ll agreed wholeheartedly that the old Warlord had grown too weary to be of use to Fenrir, so he roared. The old Warlord attacked, but Thorleif and his mother went at him first. Embers broke the bubble en masse, and Sk?ll shaded to force his to take over and conquer the territory.

A ripple of power crossed the land, and the earth shook. Isbait joined in, and his fiery body could be seen thundering toward them, while the shade Sk?ll commanded grew stronger and stronger as more and more V?lsung broke the bubble, too.

The ember fired up so hard it made even Sk?ll’s paws tingle, and the shading broke before Thorleif and his mother and the pack she commanded had taken down the old Warlord.

Ours!The human boy in Sk?ll shouted.

The mother looked around, apparently scouting the new territory of her Warlord. Finally, she looked at Sk?ll, smiled, and drooled. “Pack! We follow a new Warlord. To home! Leave the weakling who lost sight to rot on what he lost. We leave with Warlord Sk?ll!”

The V?lsung roared, and Sk?ll joined in.

“Now...” She came closer and bared her neck for Sk?ll to lick her throat, and he did. “What knowledge is it I hold that will see our objective fulfilled?”

Sk?ll stepped back. “You and my Grams are keepers of history. I know too little of V?lsung’s. Please work with her.”

Thyra sauntered over in her V?lsung form. “Thyra of High Alpha Bjárr.”

“The granddaughter of the smart one,” Thorleif added.

“I remember,” his mother said. “But what exactly do you seek in the past, Warlord?”

“Forgotten knowledge. Like where home is.”

“But you said you know.” She eyed him skeptically.

“Yes. But there’s more knowledge hidden or forgotten. Other than it being our territory to protect...something special has been forgotten. There was more to why Fenrir was run off the lands. We need to find that piece of the puzzle so that we can keep our territory, too.”

“Hmm...” She looked at her son. “I’ll need to bring books then.”

“Important work calls for important tools,” Isbait said. “We will carry them.” Isbait kicked the ground twice, and Stallions came closer.

It was clear to Sk?ll that the old feud was not forgotten and that the races still had a long way to go before they could live in peace and trust that the other wouldn’t attack just because. That work needed attention, too, but he still figured the run would be the best way to bring them closer to...if not friendship, then companionable respect for each other’s presence.

“We stay the night,” Sk?ll announced. “Enjoy the offerings and gather the tools to find the puzzles of the past. We leave tomorrow morning.”

“Warlord!”

Thorleif went back to grab the elk, and his powerful body jerked as he dragged the huge dead weight across the ground to lay it at his mother’s feet. He then stepped back and waited for her to start eating. They all waited—even her own Warriors—for her to give the go, meaning she accepted the offerings and offered hospitality. It was interesting to witness, but now it was also Sk?ll’s territory. He should eat the fallen Warlord, but the human in him was not having it.

While they ate, Sk?ll and Hati looked around, finding a few Omegas huddling close out back.

“Shit,” Hati said.

“They’ve been here for a long time,” Sk?ll noted, judging mainly on their broken appearance.

“How did you end up here?” Hati asked.

Sk?ll didn’t understand their answers and left the task to Hati to figure out. In the meantime, he looked for pups because the scent of one teased his nose. Coming closer, he found it had died, though, so he left its resting spot alone and returned, deciding not to tell Hati.

Thorleif and his mom wandered over to meet up with Sk?ll. “Warlord. Now it is time for introductions.” His mother glanced at him. “Still learning V?lsung ways,” Thorleif whispered. “My mother, Warlord Bothild.”

Sk?ll grinned. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Vargr ways,” Thorleif said.

She scoffed, shaking her head. “One does not grow this old without knowing the ways of others, my son.” She studied Sk?ll. “And your color needs no introduction. Nor do your mate, Geri, and Freki. Do introduce me to the one you call Grams, though. So we may begin the work to gain back Fenrir’s territory.”

Sk?ll sent out a pulse for Thyra to join him and led Bothild toward the old King. “Let me introduce you to the other keepers of history.”

“The colored eyes,” Bothild mumbled as they went.

“Yes. Their King.”

Elakdon was easy to find from a distance as he sat on horseback and spoke with a Guard Lady, pointing something out. He was speaking Norwegian, so Sk?ll didn’t understand all of it, but he got that it had to do with night accommodations. It put Sk?ll’s mind back on the fact that he understood the V?lsung speaking in not-Danish.

“The dialect you speak? Or language?”

“We call it Nordic,” Bothild said. “It’s our common tongue as we travel all of the North and don’t follow human dialects and their borders. This is understandable to most.”

Sk?ll merely nodded and continued to lead the way. Thyra, Isbait, and Stallion Bjark joined Elakdon before Sk?ll, Thorleif, and Bothild made it there.

The old King dismounted as they traveled the last twenty meters. “Pleased to meet you, mother of Thorleif.”

“Likewise, King.”

“Nol-Elakdon, please.”

“My mother’s name is Bothild,” Thorleif offered after a moment of silence. He looked at his mom and shrugged.

Elakdon smiled. “We’ll learn.” He pulled out his phone and swiped. “I bring good news.” He held it out for Bothild to see footage that Sk?ll recognized as being from the ferries. Of J?rmungandr rising up to look at them, then sinking into the deep blue of the North Sea again. “Any and all forgotten remnants of the past must be dug out of our collective memories. And blood, as I understand, something has been hidden in our blood.”

“How far back or how recent must that history be?” she asked.

“Currently, any and all is needed, and we sift through it as we go,” Sk?ll said.

“In that case...” Bothild turned and pointed. “Fifteen minutes run that way stands a stone. It says it was erected to remember the two wolves of the sun and the moon. I don’t remember everything it says on that runestone because I didn’t care enough to translate it all.”

Elakdon perked up. “Runestone?”

“Maybe the last Sk?ll and Hati’s resting place or memorial stone,” Hati said.

“Let’s go!” Elakdon trudged off.

Sk?ll felt excited, recognizing the human in him all but bouncing around, and looked at Thorleif’s mom. “Please show the way.”

“You might be right about it being erected for Sk?ll and Hati,” Bothild said as she set off in a leisurely pace behind Elakdon, yet the old King stopped and waited, all but tapping his foot at them. “The first ones, I mean.”

Sk?ll could imagine their need to be far away from everything to land them here after the great pack war. Then again, he had no idea what this landscape had looked like in the six hundreds. It was certainly remote now.

More followed, and by the time they arrived at the weathered stone, Isbait, Geri, Freki, Rasmus, Steffen, Tristan, Thyra, the V?lve, and the poisonous Incubus Navidon had joined them.

Elakdon and Sk?ll crowded the front of the stone, and the old King all but hung on Sk?ll’s shoulders as they studied it. But Sk?ll couldn’t read any of it.

“Yup. Sk?ll and Hati.” Elakdon outlined some lines. “It says the fire in their chests never died, and the scent of blood never left their noses. Restless legs pushed them forward until a spot that smelled like hope kept them there. Hope to fight for but never found. And in their blood, the fire died with hope.” Elakdon stood back, looking puzzled. “That makes no sense.”

“This land whispers of old tales and work begun,” Isbait said, looking around.

Somewhere, a woman hummed a merry tune. Looking around, Sk?ll noticed that Marisol had left them, so he followed her voice. “Marisol?”

Elakdon jogged to him. “She wandered off?”

“Yeah, I hear her humming further ahead.”

“Huh. Something might be whispering to her then. Maybe what Isbait talked about?”

Isbait trotted to them. “It’s louder that way.”

The rest followed, too, until they found Marisol kneeling on the ground, picking flowers and moving small stones around to form a ring.

Elakdon crouched in front of her, but she continued to sway and hum, not looking up at him. “What do you see, Marisol? What do you hear?” Elakdon whispered.

She looked up at him and smiled secretively. “Hush,” she whispered. “Time has hidden it here.” She patted the ground. “Death and rebirth, season after season, layer upon layer of the cycles of Gaia. The secret stood its ground.” She looked down and caressed the mossy spot. “When the ground was down there.”

“Something’s buried here,” Elakdon said.

“Let’s dig, then,” Freki said.

Elakdon reached for Marisol and led her from the circle she’d outlined, yet she danced off in her own little world, humming and twirling, while Sk?ll and Freki set in on the dig. They soon clawed at a stone, so they worked their way around it and deeper and deeper as the stone surface expanded.

That was a huge stone. Considering the ring that Marisol had outlined, it fit pretty well with the circumference of what finally revealed slanted sides and weathered tool markings. Excitement welled up in Sk?ll, and he dug harder. “Markings! I see markings over here.”

“Me, too,” Freki said. “To get a good look, we’re going to have to dig out a huge circle.”

“No,” Isbait said. “When you’ve reached the bottom, tie a rope around it, and we’ll drag it up onto this level.”

Sk?ll did not mind that idea. He was getting tired of digging, and he’d lost all sense of time as the excitement to get to see the buried secrets of the ancient stone kept him at the task.

Finally, Freki got up and shifted to human form. “Rope?”

Isbait handed it to him, and Freki slid into the hole and started wrapping the stone.

“You’re definitely no Boy Scout or sailor, Alpha.” Elakdon slid down next to him. “Untangle that bunch of knots and hand it to me.”

Freki grumbled but did, and Elakdon showed off higher Boy Scout skills than Freki’s. Finally, Elakdon asked for water and poured the contents of three containers all over the rock and rope, which seemed to have been weaved around the stone, then climbed out and handed the rope ends to Isbait. The Chaos Stallion kicked the ground twice, and his body fired up, so they all stepped back to let him work.

Randr brushed off his dirt-covered King, who was too busy gawking in excitement at the huge piece of granite being dragged out of the ground by Isbait and four more Stallions.

“Will a rope hold?” Freki asked.

“That kind will because I tied it so that all the weight is distributed on many strands at the same time,” Elakdon said. “It’s a baste rope we’ve used since forever to pull really heavy loads. Also, that’s why I poured water all over it. That binds the fibers harder together and reduces the risk of them snapping.”

Just as he said that, a piece snapped, but the stone didn’t plummet back into its hiding place. The other strands merely grumbled under the added load, but it held up as the Sleipnir Stallions managed to get it the rest of the way up and over the ledge, then dragged it further away to erect the stone again on a level surface.

Elakdon and a few others kicked stones in around the base to help stabilize the uneven granite slab, then untied and washed the stone.

“Can you read it?” Sk?ll asked.

Elakdon knelt in front of it and ran his hand over the markings. “Barely.”

Marisol came over and hugged the stone, smiling as she leaned her cheek against it. “When from the dome of Ymir’s skull, a burning stone dropped, mighty men of the past, Karls and Earls alike, took upon themselves a great task. They sought north and south, east and west, inside the earth and in the sky for the entrance to Muspelheim. And once that burning stone was theirs, the bravest Rigr rose. They crushed the stone, and in their chests, they hid the fire of Muspell. There, it slumbers as it waits for the risen warriors to prepare. Asir, Vanir, V?ttir, Dwarves, Seids, and J?tnar Sidr was planted in Midgard. And as it feeds the Sidr of old, Yggdrasil grows from the last piece of the burning stone, waiting for the seidr to harness the fires of Muspell.” Marisol turned and looked directly at Navidon. “Let it burn,” she whispered. Her expression grew aggressive as she bared her teeth. “Let them burn. Let the fires of Muspell free to burn the Thralls!” Marisol shook. “Rigr, Rigr...it’s time to rise,” she whispered. “Valkyries will fly.”

A strange and tense silence hung in the air as they all stared at Marisol.

“Uhm...” Sk?ll glanced at Hati. “I think Norse Lore left something out about the children of Heimdal. Namely the Thralls.”

“Of course it did,” Elakdon mumbled, staring in shock at Marisol, who seemed to be slowly lulling herself out of the trance she’d dropped into. “Lore barely remembers Heimdal, and...the majority of the lore was brought here from somewhere else. Like Odin and Hel. There’s a theory that Odin, the wanderer, came out of Troy, and some of the stories passed down are retold to not offend other gods or God.”

“Oh great. More missing pieces that oddly enough takes it closer to V?lsung’s original territory.” Sk?ll looked at Thorleif’s mom. “Anything to add to that?”

“Just that we now know what the ember is made of.”

That comment hit Sk?ll like a brick to the face, and he knew far too little to gain any value from his mind’s wild attempts at making connections. “The fire of Muspelheim?”

“No, the fiery stone that was divided between Rigr to be put into their chests. Stepsiblings of the gods of old. Like fraternities and sororities today treat each other as brothers and sisters when making pacts.”

“Creation,” Elakdon said. “The frost of Niflheim met the fires of Muspelheim. That created Ginnungagap, and from there, sparks flew and created the sun and the moon and the stars. The melting ice revealed Ymir, the first being. And his skull became the dome of the sky over a flat earth.”

“And the sons of Muspell will break Bifrost as part of the events at Ragnarok,” Steffen said. “As told to Gylfi by the three men on thrones in Asgard.”

“The High, the Just-As-High, and Third,” Elakdon added.

“Now I’m even more confused,” Sk?ll said. “That’s a poem about the deceit of the gods from the Prose Edda, thirteenth hundred.”

“Yes, but that’s the important part, isn’t it?” Elakdon turned to look at Sk?ll. “It’s Snorri’s retelling. The newer they are, the greater the chance of it being a retold tale that was brought with us to the North. The tales of gods or...supernatural beings were hidden in weird tales so not to sound like rivals to the God whose institutions have rained destruction upon everyone and forced us into hiding.”

“Are you old enough to remember the religion before that?” Freki asked.

“Yes and no. I was born shortly before the human King Christened the Danes. These tales are older.” Elakdon touched the stone. “So’s this stone. And the stories came with us, so all I know is a time already influenced by the former Royal’s arrival here.”

“Fenrir arrived then, too,” Thorleif’s mom said.

Her sad tone got everybody’s attention.

“And then?” Elakdon asked.

She sighed. “And then they waited.”

“For what?” Sk?ll asked.

“For a river of hope to call them home.”

“Hope. That’s the name of the river of saliva that runs from the mouth of Fenrir because someone stuck a sword in it to make him stop howling at being tied down,” Sk?ll said. “And the hand of betrayal burns his stomach.”

“Tyr. I remember that part,” Freki said. “He stuck his hand into Fenrir’s mouth to let him think it wasn’t a double cross. The hand of Tyr is, to humans, a symbol of sacrifice for the greater good.”

“Says something, doesn’t it,” Thorleif’s mom spat. “It’s the tale of the taking of our territory. So many different tales of deceit and wars for power over a territory are told, even in the Bible. Of brothers fighting. Of a snake. Of angels rebelling. Of demons and devils in fiery realms. They all remember the tales and used their own languages and cultures to save the truth, and now it’s so washed that no one remembers, but...our blood does. And once the lion rose...”

“What lion?”

She looked at Sk?ll. “The pieces to this puzzle are more than twelve thousand years old. That much I know for sure. That’s why nothing makes sense anymore. But Fenrir ruled our territory for more than ten thousand years. And we were run off it a mere two thousand years ago.”

“Are you sure about that timeline?” Steffen asked.

“Wait, lion...” Sk?ll held up a paw. “Are you talking about the procession of the zodiac?”

“Yes.”

“And those times are counted in the Bible, too,” Elakdon said. “The bull, the ram, Virgo, Pisces, and Jesus tells his disciples to follow the man with a pitcher of water on his shoulder into a house. The house of the zodiac that belongs to Aquarius.”

“How does that relate to this?” Freki patted the rune stone.

“It doesn’t,” Thorleif’s mom said. “That tale is way older. Older than the Sphinx.”

Steffen perked up and looked at Tristan. “That’s that lion in Egypt then, right?”

“Yup, and we should have asked that young YouTuber for his phone number.”

“I’m confused!” Freki exclaimed.

“We all are,” Sk?ll grumbled.

“At least the revelation of us shook up academia enough to no longer think they know it all,” Geri said. “Maybe now they can get over their egos of wanting to be right in whatever got their names in a book for them and look at fucking facts instead.” He turned and walked away.

Isbait turned to follow, but he stopped and looked at the stone, then went to it and put his hand on it. “Whispers never die,” he said. “What whispers here was heard by you, V?lve. What did you see?”

“Nine black swans fly this way. From there.” She pointed southeast. “And on the stone perches a black swan with eagle claws, clutching a sword and a spear.”

“That swan has followed you since I met you,” Elakdon noted. “Are you sure it isn’t yours?”

“Yes. Because mine is lying under her. And it’s the only one with shadows in its eyes.” Marisol looked at Thorleif’s mom. “Like yours.”

Isbait stepped back a bit and stared at the stone, then fired up his body and kicked it.

Elakdon jumped. “Why did you do that? It could have broken.”

Isbait looked out over the lands south of them. “To see what responds. Echoes will return if more work was performed by the same.” Isbait walked off.

Marisol giggled and picked a flower, then started dancing around the stone, humming to herself.

Elakdon sighed. “We better stay and listen. When she does that, something usually comes through.”