Chapter 51 Freija
Freija
A ringing noise filled my ears alongside the sound of well-wishes and jubilation as I left the great hall with a retinue of soldiers, Halvar, and a couple of council members.
The crown sat firmly upon my head, but the festivities were far from over.
A great feast would follow, then a grand ball with dancing until dawn.
But, before I could attend either, I had to visit the Temple of the Fae and commune with the ancestors in hopes they would bless me with the Royal Fae powers of a monarch.
It was a ceremony as old as our kind. One that I’d been told of time and again during my studies. And today was finally the day where I’d place my hand on the pedestal therein and ask for the ancestors’ blessing.
I straightened my shoulders as we strolled through the tunnels, descending into the depths of the mountain where the Royal Tombs lay.
Two guards stood sentry outside the miraged entrance to the tomb—the only sign that something might lie beyond the rocky facade.
They bowed their heads and stepped aside, allowing the group passage.
The warmth of the mirage washed over me like a balmy summer’s day, and for the second day in a row, I was among the dead.
Large pillars held the ceiling aloft, while effervescent orbs bobbed above our heads, casting light and shadow over the melancholy space.
Rows of stone coffins sat either side of a central aisle, each housing a monarch or member of the royal family, with the person’s likeness carved atop it.
I paused, imagining they could see what was happening, what I’d now become.
“Your Majesty,” Halvar said at my back.
“Yes,” I replied with a sigh and turned around. It was just the two of us. The council members hadn’t walked through the mirage. “Are they not coming too?” I thought they would at least come to the door at the far end of the chamber.
“No. It’s just us.”
Just us.
“Very well,” I replied. “Will you be entering the Temple with me?”
He shook his head. “I will stand guard.”
As he always did.
“I heard your little addition to the oath, by the way,” he said.
I smiled. “Consider it part of my oath to you.”
He beamed back at me and quietly motioned for me to lead the way down the aisle.
My steps echoed through the room, making it sound far larger than it was, all the way to the back of the space where a beautiful etched mural sat waiting for us.
A sharp mountain jutted toward the ceiling between two large trees.
Their branches reached onto the adjoining walls as if protecting the room and the tiny leaves looked akin to flames.
Swirls of water swished at the base of the scene, and in the lower right corner was a wolf, baying at the starry sky.
Each piece symbolized one of the four Nordic Fae factions—Fjell, Forest, Fjord, and Fire.
Without further hesitation, I stepped forward and pushed my magic into the wall.
A warm, skittering sensation curled up my arm and through my hand, into the stone.
The royal magic I’d been born with unfurled into every crack and crevice of the mural.
Silvery light pooled through the lines, revealing the true majesty of the artwork.
Once the last drop had reached the farthest leaf on the farthest branch, the light settled into a soft glow. It was ready.
With a gentle shove against the mountain, it swung inward on invisible hinges, revealing a room beyond: The Temple of the Fae.
A blue luminescence shone from within, dappling across the silver threads on my skirts.
This was it.
One of the moments my life had been leading up to.
I took a deep breath, brushed my fingers across my forehead, and peered over my shoulder.
Halvar gave me a solemn nod of reassurance.
“If I don’t survive—”
“They won’t kill you.”
“You cannot know that for certain.”
He scoffed. “Yes, I can.”
“How?”
A slight tilt of his lips, hands clasped behind his back. “Go inside, princess.”
“Cheeky.” I stared back at the small, blue room—the same shade of stone as the quartz that lined the throne room—then sharpened my confidence, stepped inside the Temple, and shut the door behind me.
The space was no bigger than the main room in Vigdis’s cottage and reminded me of the places of worship the humans had been building with tall spires and timber from their old ships.
It held such a reverent stillness too. And yet, the only object within was a simple pedestal made of the same blue stone.
Three corners had been hacked off, jagged edges the only signs that anything had once been there.
A twinkle of light played to my right and I turned to face it. Little specks of magic danced in the wall, as if in greeting.
“Hello to you too,” I said with a gentleness I reserved for children or diplomatic meetings.
The tiny lights flickered in reply.
“I’m here to speak with the ancestors.”
The cluster shot across the room and hovered above the pedestal. That was an encouraging sign at least. The last time I’d been in here with Father, the lights had followed him around like a babe clutching a mother’s skirts.
I stepped up in front of the pedestal, its smooth surface glinting back at me with a reflection of the crown on my head. The stone in the middle sparkled wildly.
Placing my left hand on the flat top, I said, “I, Freija, Queen of the Fjell, wish to speak with the ancestors.”
A wash of heat and sparks immediately cascaded up my arm.
The force was enough to make me reach out my other hand and press it to the plinth for balance.
The lights that had greeted me swirled like a storm, spiraling around the room.
I closed my eyes, willing myself to withstand the unease.
Breaths grew harder, my lungs laboring. Then everything went dark except a soft glow emanating from the pedestal.
I carefully blinked open my eyes, and gasped.
Faded visions of fae stood in a circle around me. It was the ancestors. Or at least, my ancestors. People I only recognized from the stone statues in the tomb to more familiar faces. From my great grandfather with the thick beard whom I’d never met, to my smiling grandparents holding hands, and…
My heart cracked in two. “Father?”
“Freija, my darling girl.”
Tears streamed down my face. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I didn’t get to say goodbye.”
“It will never be goodbye. Not forever. It is until we meet again.”
“I’m still sorry for not being there.”
“It’s all right.” He gave me a hesitant smile. “Now, you know we discussed how when communing with ancestors, whomever you needed the most and whom we deemed necessary to speak with you would appear?”
“Of course.”
“Well this is like that in a way.”
“What do you mean?” My curiosity was piqued. Did they all need to be here? Did I need this much help?
“This is a welcoming party of sorts.” He motioned to the other people around the chamber with a fondness that I’d seen him share with family before. “Here to share our magic with you, should you be deemed worthy.”
My heart thrummed in my chest, and I wrung my fingers together. “And… am I?”
Smiles grew all around me.
“Yes, of course. You’re a kind and caring soul with a hunger for knowledge and a passion for the nature we are sworn to protect. There could be no other as worthy.”
My eyelids fluttered shut and my knees wobbled. What a relief.
“You’ve done very well and will continue to follow in your predecessors’ footsteps—serving and protecting.”
My eyes flew open, and I stared at my father as a bubble of doubt seeped in. There was one area where I hadn’t followed in their footsteps. A rule that the Council and my parents had been almost desperate for me to follow. One I couldn’t proceed with, not in the way they wished.
“Before we begin,” I started and the whole room stilled, the air tightening somehow even more than it already had, “you should all know that I do not intend to take a husband as the Council so desperately wanted.”
Wide eyes blinked back at me, but silence reigned.
“I have found love in a place that has previously been frowned upon. But I believe that love is love no matter how it looks, with whom, or what shape it takes. He shares these feelings and we shall be forming a relationship.”
Shall, not will. It was firmer language, and I wasn’t going to budge on this matter. Not anymore. These were my choices to make. No one else’s.
Specters nodded.
“You believe he may care for you?” Father asked.
“I know so.”
“Would this man perhaps be my former general?”
“And if it was?” I raised my chin ever so slightly.
Father’s lips quirked into a gentle grin. “Then I should say I’m not too surprised. It wasn’t what I wished for you, a man in uniform, but you both have great senses of duty and care deeply for the Fae of the Fjell.”
He was right. We did. And in that shared value an understanding of sorts had bloomed.
“I believe it will make me stronger.”
A few of the ancestors tilted their heads to one side, smirks on some, concern furrowing the brows of others.
“And he will make an admirable companion,” I added.
“I’m certain he will be of great support to you.
” Father stepped closer, reaching out his hands as if he wanted to touch me but then realized he couldn’t.
The motion chipped at a piece of my heart.
“Freija, my darling, I know you will do well and lead with great care. But for those days when you need some guidance, please know I left a journal for you.”
“What?”
“It is on my bookshelf. Second from the left, third shelf, a purple leather-bound book. You can’t miss it. I left some tidbits of advice for you there.”
I wanted to cry. Wanted, desperately, to hug him. “Thank you.”