Chapter 16 Gullveig #2
Freyr, realizing he’s been tricked, darts down from where he was flying to intercept Odin and slams instead into Frigg.
Also a flame blessed, her much smaller form isn’t able to withstand the force of him.
As the two of them collide, claws scrabbling, tails twisting, and wings battering the other, they lurch and begin to fall.
Freyr’s ice erupts from his open maw, slamming into Frigg like a massive ballista, and she turns bright blue. As they crash into the ground below, Frigg goes from blue to bright gold.
And then she explodes.
Chunks of Frigg and Freyr cover everything.
Earth children, marauding vanir, and defending aesir alike.
In that moment, something dawns on me, like the sun, cresting over the tops of the mountains, like the first frost on the blades of grass around our keep, and I realize the world is different than I knew.
No matter what I do, no matter what sacrifices we all make, no matter what plans we set in motion. . .this conflict will never end. The aesir and vanir go round and round, killing one another, slaughtering us, and they always will.
The destruction will never end.
Gorm’s death, Freyr’s death, Frigg’s death, they all chase one another round and round. No matter who we’re able to kill, everything simply starts over. Death, death, and more death.
Would I rather have the strength to endure, or the power to dominate? That’s the question Freja asked on the day she forced my bond. It was the first thing that day that surprised me. The rest of the things that happened were expected, planned for, even.
I said the strength to endure, because it’s what I expected she wanted, but in truth, they’re both an illusion. There is no enduring. We all eventually die, even the sky children. And anyone who dominates is also sure to fall.
Someone worse, someone more powerful, always comes along.
The force of the explosion knocks Freja backward, and she slams into the side of a looming mountain, rolling down head over tail repeatedly until we come to a stop in front of the gathered brights she wanted to destroy.
I pull my swords and leap from her back.
I stand to face her, holding the blades that Freja gave me herself.
Instead of killing myself, perhaps I could kill her.
It would be a resounding win. Both twins gone—a terrible blow for the vanir.
But then Bjorn would bide his time until his other children were old enough to attack again.
None of our efforts will truly fix anything.
The cycle of death will simply continue on and on and on until we change something.
Until we knock ourselves free of the cycle.
But how?
The other earth children behind me are assembling—many of whom I know.
They’re not armed with magicked swords, but they have the things the aesir provide.
Darts, poisoned daggers, slings and rocks, and arrows.
They’re not just walking—they’re sprinting—toward us.
They’re eager to knock the evil vanir back.
With the way Freja’s reeling from her crash and her brother’s death, and the other vanir they’re slaughtering, they might be able to harm her, especially if I kill myself.
An entire contingent of strike blessed are taking form not far away. I should do what I came to do, and make it easier for them to destroy Freja.
But I have another idea.
A crazy, insane idea.
An idea that very well might turn my own people against me.
“I was sent to kill you.” I turn to face Freja. “You probably figured that out. The reason I could block the vanir’s attempts to bond me is that I trained for just that. I came to the vanir to bond you. My brother Gorm did the same.”
Freja stares, dumbfounded.
Her head turns slightly, gazing at the site where her twin just died.
“We both lost a brother in the last few moments, and we should be trying to destroy one another.”
Freja’s head whips my direction. I could end you with one breath.
“That’s true,” I say. “But you won’t be able to kill them all as well.” As if my words summoned them, the other earth children surge over the edge of the mountain, and the strike blessed swoop closer, almost within striking distance.
The first poison dart strikes her shoulder, incapacitating her right claw.
I turn and unsheathe my swords. “I could use this gift to kill you, or to kill myself, weakening you.”
You’re— Her nostrils flare. I’m a fool, for liking you.
Her words reaffirm my decision. She likes me. It’s more than I’ve ever heard any other vanir say. “Instead, I’m choosing to defend you. Now, fly home while I block these darts.” I spread my arms, throwing the shield that she taught me up and outward.
A dozen darts are caught in it.
“Go!” I shout. “Now—I’m not sure how long I can block them.”
Why would you help me? She glares. You conspired to kill me.
“I guess both of us learned something today,” I say. “But for me, I just realized how senseless all of this is.” I turn for one second. “Now, go, please.”
Freja snatches me with her one good front claw and throws me up into the air, flinging me over her shoulder and back onto her body. You’re coming with me, ensnared. We have much to discuss.
She’s right, I suppose. If she’s willing to talk, then we do.
I hold the shield until they’re too far to harm us, and just before the strike blessed lightning hits us, we dive toward the small portal Freja’s capable of making. Her father will have to bring the others home, once she explains.
But when we reach Bjorn, all she tells him is that Freyr killed Frigg, but died in the process. She doesn’t mention Gorm, or my plan to kill her, or my decision to help instead. Her father leaves to recover the others, whoever hasn’t perished, and we’re left alone.
After flying to our cavern, I send the other earth children away. Before I can say anything, before I can explain, Freya sinks to the cold stone floor, her head collapsing on the ground.
I have something important to show you, Freja says. It’s the source of all my father’s power, and I think it may be the key to finally changing the world we live in, once and for all. It’s the source of my magic as well.
When she looks at me again, I see something I’ve never seen from her before, not once in all the time I’ve been here.
Hope.