Chapter 42
CHAPTER
FORTY-TWO
“Sometimes life really sucks. Am I right?”
Sylvara turned, in shock, and stared at the woman she’d just seen attacked by Varu. “What?” They were back in the courtyard Sylvara had once visited before sharing a lovely meal with gentleman vampire, Rolf. “Wait. That dream…”
“That was no dream. That was possibility.” The blond woman, Hafandi, took her by the hand, and they walked together toward a bench overlooking the fountain.
In the distance, a handsome and scarred dark-haired warrior tossed a ball with a wolf and laughed.
Hafandi looked at the picture with tenderness.
“What’s going on?” Was Rolf really gone? What the fuck had just happened?
She had so much grief inside, but confusion numbed it, suppressing the reality of the Night Bloode dying. Of Rolf sacrificing himself, for what? To kill a few enemy vampires before chaos consumed the world?
“A long time ago, Destiny decided to conjoin with Creation. A group of young women were chosen to see to the Wyrd—the Great Weave.”
Sylvara nodded. She knew the story. “Yes. Urth, Daughter of Yesterday. Verthandi, Daughter of Today. And Skuld, Daughter of Tomorrow.”
“And Hafandi, Daughter of What Might Come.”
Sylvara blinked. “A fourth Wyrd Sister?”
Hafandi nodded. “Yet since my conception, I have not been welcome. My sisters tried, but I made everyone nervous. The fates maintain Balance, but I’m here to make sure it stays as it could be. Not as it should be.”
“You allow for chance.”
“Free will.”
“Which isn’t part of Destiny.”
“Yet it is.” Hafandi sighed. “All I ever wanted was to be allowed to live, to love. But I was bullied and pushed aside at every opportunity. First by gods then by mortals. My sisters eventually gave in to the gods’ demands and ostracized me.
I spent much of my life away in potential futures.
But one day when I snuck back to Midgard, I saw a man. ”
Sylvara followed her glance to the warrior playing with the wolf. He saw Hafandi and smiled, joy in his eyes.
“We fell in love. Herulf and I were meant to be together in another life, one where valkyries didn’t steal him from me.” Her pointed look made Sylvara feel uncomfortable.
“I never touched him.”
“I know.” Hafandi laughed, and the sound was sweet, not at all that of a villain out to destroy the world. “Herulf is a warrior like no other. With him, I saw a future I wanted. One I decided to take for myself.”
Sylvara nodded, not sure why she wasn’t dead with the others. She studied the man, seeing something in him. Something…familiar.
His clear love for Hafandi made Sylvara want to weep. She was trying very hard not to think of Rolf. The stupid flattery, the ridiculous teasing. The way he made her heart race and wanted her to be nothing but herself. The sheer acceptance for all that she was.
“Wipe your tears…Daughter.” Hafandi gently dried her cheeks.
Sylvara frowned. “Daughter?”
“Yes. I conceived on the day they stole your father from me. When they made sure I would never see a day of happiness in their world. So I made my own, invited my new friend to conquer this life, and stole their purpose as they have always kept mine from me.” She smiled, so proud.
Like a toddler topping a rival’s tower of blocks.
“But you… You destroyed the world.”
“Did I? Or did I let them destroy it themselves? Vampires are destructive creatures by nature. There’s a reason their numbers are kept in check.
And it’s not like gods and mortals are any better.
The gods will perpetually battle, up and until the end of the world, where they crush everyone who gets in their way.
“Mortals kill and pollute and take, take, take. How many have you seen on the battlefield, my daughter, worthy of ascending? Not many.”
“You’re not wrong,” Sylvara said quietly. “But you’re not right either. You destroyed everyone, even me. For what? Petty revenge?”
Hafandi’s anger sparked.
But so did Sylvara’s. “You felt wronged. I feel wronged, especially right now. I only ever tried to fit in. To serve Freyja.”
“Ha. That bitch should be serving you.” Hafandi reached out to squeeze Sylvara’s hand.
“I never wanted to cause you any pain. In fact, I left you alone for years to allow you to grow up away from the curse of my existence. Hoping my sisters would treat you well. And they did, mostly. But Skuld and Loki connived and sent you on the path toward that revolting draugr.”
Sylvara was embarrassed to feel herself tearing up again. “I liked him.”
“Don’t lie. You loved him.”
“Fine. I did. Do.” Sylvara wanted to punch the woman—her fucking mother—in the face. “Why didn’t you just make your own happy ending somewhere else? Why mess with mine?” A selfish way to put it, but she felt it all the same.
“Don’t you think I would have sent myself elsewhere if I could? But our power doesn’t work that way. The Balance must stay intact. I can’t influence my fate. Only others’.”
Sylvara frowned. “Our powers?” Sylvara had once tried to weave at the Great Loom, and it hadn’t taken.
“You’re a Wyrd Sister too, you know. Those aunts of yours are truly your aunts. They mean well, but they’ve been serving gods for far too long and have forgotten their ultimate purpose. To serve the Wyrd, Creation. Balance.”
“Ending everything doesn’t seem like balance to me.” Sylvara stood, full of emotion and rage and, damn it all, grief. “I loved that ass. I actually did. And now it’s too late because you brought chaos into a place where it shouldn’t be.”
“I agree.” Hafandi watched her with kindness.
“Why are you fucking looking at me like that?”
“Because you need to see what’s right in front of you. A way to fix everything. A simple stitch to fix the Wyrd.”
“There’s nothing simple about any of this.” Sylvara tried to understand. “Are you telling me this entire fiasco, everyone dying, life as we know it ending, is because you weren’t allowed to love Herulf?”
“Herulf—your father. Do you not understand, Sylvara? All of this…was for you.”