“Dear Diary,
It is the eve of wedding with my betrothed. I have long waited for this day. Today I enchant with the grace of a woman. It will be sealed with a kiss. I could not be happier. I long for the days when we will at last have children.
Thank you to fate for making this happen.
Love Sweiza.”
—
It is down the wedding aisle in a white dress on her twenty-sixth birthday. In times past she would have reservations about this special day taking place in a church. However, she has fully accepted the newer movement of Christianity and converted. Her betrothed, Lester, waits for her at the altar with a priest. Vows are exchanged. The crowd cheers. Sweiza closes her eyes and leans in for a kiss. The warmth and tenderness of his lips. She pulls away and opens her eyes.
A pair of yellow eyes stare back at her. She sees the green skin, the pointed ears. The ugly teeth hanging out of its mouth. She shrieks at the sight of the troll in front of her.
She immediately bolts up from the dream. She looks down at Strife and starts shaking her.
“Strife! Wakeup! STRIFE!”
—
A groggy Strife lets out a grown. Sweiza’s worried eyes stare down at her. Strife tries to roll over once and Sweiza starts pulling on her clothing. When that has no effect she nudges at her mentor’s shoulder. Strife finally turns over to face the girl and then pushes herself to a sitting position.
Her body and head tilt over -slowly- towards Sweiza’s direction. A frantic Sweiza starts relaying her dream. Strife tells her, “Go back to bed.” Strife huffs back down. It is going to be a long night.
—
“Quite frankly Vera,” Strife takes a sip of coffee from what can only be described as a skin canteen. She winces at how bitter it is, all the better to wake her up in the cold morning air, “There are all manner of goblins, trolls, orcs and ogres in giant country. The problem is, we don’t know ‘where’ they are. They could be on the other side of the continent. Regardless, it would…”
Sweiza interrupts her, “do us well to pay attention to our surroundings. Loki is about us.” Sweiza says it in as high and mighty a voice as she can. She then looks down at her subjects in the dirt and stamps the ground with her boot for good measure.
Strife half chokes on her coffee trying not to laugh. Sweiza’s face drops into a surprised frown as she looks up.
Strife pounds her chest once and twice and coughs a few times, “Loki can feel our presence. He can feel the air disturbed.
Sweiza cocks her head at her mentor, “How do you know this?”
“I’ll explain it later. Let’s go. We shouldn’t stay in one area for too long. He’ll probably launch more than one activity against us.”
Strife’s canteen disappears as she raises her arm. She walks past Sweiza. Sweiza’s gaze follows her and her eyes narrow. Just how many items does that woman have within her being anyway?
—
Sometime during the day Sprite is some distance ahead of the two. His form glows a bright blue and his flight becomes erratic. It does not become unknown to Strife in so much as her eyes narrow. Her pace quickens, but she stops her paces when the blue Sprite makes a beeline for her and Sweiza. Strife’s hands form a holding position as she takes one step forward; her sword appears in her hands. She raises her arms and the grip of the sword and lowers the tip slightly offset and behind her. Sprite comes flying towards them at a quicker pace. He seems to know what is going to happen because he flies straight up and past Strife and then slows and darts around behind her. Strife sees the small object trailing him. The broad side of her sword hits it and hard. A jar appears in her hand. She wastes no time in unscrewing the lid and propping it upside down on the ‘thing’.
Sweiza takes one step forward and takes a look at the insect buzzing inside of it. She looks over at Sprite and Strife.
“Gadfly.”
Sweiza looks at it quizzically. She has heard that term before. Her mouth betrays her. “What the Frigg is a gadfly?”
Strife looks up from her crouching position, her head turns and shoots Sweiza a nasty look. “Lady Frigg would most certainly not be amused.”
“Hmph!” Sweiza turns her head and walks past Strife. She continues their previous direction of travel without another word.
Strife shakes her head. She looks up at Sprite. “Are you alright little one?”
He has a welt that has formed on his shoulder, “That nasty thing bit me!”
Strife chuckles once and doesn’t miss a beat, “Perhaps you will consider not being so nasty yourself when you steal from others.”
The surprised Sprite tries to regain his composure, it doesn’t work. Instead he darts past Strife once. He turns around, pulls down both of his bottom eye lids with his fingers while sticking out his tongue; he bops up and down once and then flies off.
A puff of air comes from Strife’s mouth up to her hair. She looks up in disbelief, but in merriment, “Horsefly.”
The ‘horsefly’ flies up to the top of the jar in anger after Strife shakes it. She quickly lifts it and seals it with the lid. The jar disappears as she takes it into herself. This is one time she can bend the rules of transporting a living thing to her soul space.
—-
it is sometime later in the day. Strife is some paces ahead of Sweiza when she stops suddenly. Strife turns around to meet her student.
"Vera, do you see that stag ahead of us?"
Sweiza stops her footsteps and her gaze follows Strife's hand. However, when Strife turns around to get her student's feedback, she is less than amused.
"Vorkera!"
Sweiza's attention finally snaps to from the strange pendant in Strife's hand. Sweiza tries to think of what to say. She tries but nothing comes out. Strife scowls and pulls the talisman away. Sweiza feels herself drawn to it for some inexpicable reason.
"Vera! Honestly, pay attention. Do not fall to the guile of this thing."
Sweiza shake her head once and snaps to.
"Strife, I don't see any stag."
Strife looks over to the former direction and location of the carribou stag. She repeatedly stamps her feet and her hands come to her head to grip her temples and alleviate her frustration. She finally lets out a groan of dismay.
She shoots another scowl in Sweiza's direction. Sweiza doesn't understand what she did wrong. However, she finaly chances her original question.
"Uh, Strife. I was curious abut tha..."
Strife walks up to Sweiza. The girl finally shrinks. Strife holds up the pendant in front of her. Sweiza resists the urge to reach her hand to it. However, her eyes betray her. Strife finally raises it in front of her. The crystal in it shimmers white once and changes from a dull grey to green. Sweiza's eyes shift over to Strife. Strife pulls it away from her.
"We'll talk about this talisman later. Understood?"
Sweiza simply nods.
"I try to avoid using this thing. It draws too mch unwanted attention and is nothing but trouble."
Sweiza nods again However, her eyes again delve further than they should. The device's crystal again flashes white ad turns green. Sweiza's eyes stay fixed on the device. She is definitely enchanted by it. Strife pulls the device behind her ith a quick pull. Sweiza finally lets out an excited, but dismayed gasp as she takes one step forward and reaches out for it. Strife's free hand shoots out and pushes against Sweiza's shoulder and stops her. Sweiza looks up and sees Strife is shaking her head sternly at her.
---
It is some hours of silence later and Sweiza slows her pace until she is aongside Strife.
"What was the deal with the stag?"
Strife stops, her arms cross and her eyes close as she looks down; her head instinctively nods.
"Vera, have you wondered how I've known what direction we should move in?"
Sweiza shakes her head.
"This thing..." Strife pulls it out again. "Is a rather dangerous talisman. Are you familiar with it?"
Sweiza shakes her head. Strife holds the device up to eye level in front of Sweiza. Sweiza's eyes follow it as if hypnotized by it. Strife's eyes narrow and she frowns her lips at the gir. Sweiza visibly shakes as Strife plls the device away.
"Never fall under this thing's spell! Is that understood Vera?!" Strife says it stern and distressed at the girl. I couldn't stand the thought of fate snatching you away from me again"
Sweiza stares wide eyed at her mentor. She knows what she means. She is refering to her as her daughter. However, her mind has wandered again. Strife puts her fingers in front of Sweiza's face and snaps them several times. Sweiza's attention snaps back to reality.
"You read my diary didn't you?"
Sweiza nods.
"Do you remember something about my late friend Skuld giving me an enchanted item before they became outlawed in Valhalla?"
Sweiza nods.
Strife holds up the pendant. She turns it to its side. It has the name 'Skuld' etched into it. Strife holds up the front of the device to Sweiza's eyes. It has has the half the side of a sun and moon etched into its face. Sweiza wonders where the crystal in it went. For that matter, she didn't notice before that it looks very much like a gold watch. In fact, she hadn't noticed that it was also attached to a gold chain in the form of a necklace.
Strife almost knows what the girl is wondering a this point. She flicks the side of it with her thumb and the sun and moon emblem moves as the protective cover of the device swings to the side. Sweiza's eyes blink once. She see for a split second a blinding white light from the device. She swears it is her imagination. She blinks again. It is indeed a watch, but it has multiple clock hands when it should have three at most. There is a crystal at the center. The crystal flashes white and then changes to a bright green.
This time Strife holds it at the top of the chain and dangles it in front of Sweiza at chest level. Sweiza's hands instinctively cup around it. She however looks up at Strife and her hands stop. The next thing she knows, the watchlike device drops in he hands. She again looks up towards Stife, then at the devcice as it slowly drops betwen her thumb and index finger; it pulls tight once the top of the string rests on her thumb. She holds it up to Strife. The embedded crystal flashes white then holds on a briliant yellow color.
Strife's voice snaps her to reality, "It is called a 'Penchant'. It is a device that can read a person's fate by pointing out time, direction or the mood of the person it is pointing at."
Strife's hands are on her hips, but they are quickly crosses as she walks side-to-side it Sweiza.
Sweiza doesn't have much time to think as Sprite attempts to divbomb and fly away with the device. His attempt is met with resistence as the chain pulls tight froma Sweiza gripping it firmly. Sprite and Sweiza see the embedded crystal flsh white and hold on a light blue.
Sweiza shoots a suspicious look at Sprite, then remembers what he did. She shoots a scowl at him.
Strife clears her throat.
Sweiza's attention shifts to the woman's eyes. Strife twitching her outstreched hand gets the girl's focus. Sweiza looks up at her again. Hesitation. Sweiza looks doen again, Strife is shaking her hand again. Sweiza reluctantly hands over the device. She titls her hand and lets it drop to its original owner; the chain is the last thing to leave the girl's hand. It quickly disappears from Strife's hand and into her being.
"Sit with me."
Strife drops to a cross-legged sitting position; Sweiza does as she is told and follows suite.
"So you are wondering about what this thing does?"
Sweiza nods. However, her mind starts to wonder on food, just a bit.
"The device is of an unkonwn origin, it was aquired by Skuld's father. When he passed, it was given to her on her 16 birthday as an heirloom. Skuld gave it to me shortly before she deployed to the frontline. I'm sure she meant well - a symbol of our friendship if you will."
"Indeed. It is most certainy an enchanting item. But you make it ound like it is a bad thing?"
Strife nods one, her eyes getting serious. "Coming from nobility no to mention of Valkyriekin, you could say I have access to resources and information channels most people could only dream of."
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Sweixa remains silent.
"The device is called a Penchant. They are of a high manufacture cost and the sources to build them are of such-and-such of an obscure, but high quality, not many of them have been made."
"So they are sought after then?"
"In a matter of speaking. But that is just as a prize or a collector's piece. Im sure that's why Skuld's father had it. But I can only wonder how he got it."
Perhaps she should have hunted for more food, she is stll hungry. Whatever. Sweiza's attention shifts from food. She simply snaps to and asks, "Why?"
By now Sprite has landed on Sweiza's shoulder and is listening in. He seems to be leaning it. Strife ignores this annoyance.
"No doubt you read about my interest in becoming a lawyer and arbitrator..."
Sweiza nods to Strife's words.
...and it should be known to you that I am a Valkyrie that is of noble blood; I have also fought in a war..."
Sweiza frowns. Strife knows it means to get to the point.
"Shortly after I got the 'Penchant' from Skuld, a ban was put into effect for all talismans. Any form of enchanted items and devices followed soon after. Naturally with Odin's decisions countering my better interests, I decided to start researching arcane magic, enchanted devies, mystic lore, the occult and the like. No doubt you searched my library?"
Sweia nods once, "I perused most of your books. Well, more like I skimmed them for any interesting bits. Why do you have suh a bi library?"
"I don't like Odin. I do not agree with anything controlling my fate but my own..."
Sweiza perks up, "You mran like Salmira?"
Strife flinches, "Yes, like her."
Sweiza tits her head, "What's wrong with her? She seems well to do."
"So I too thought. But a time rolls on, I realize she is really only helping those that benefit herself. Granted, she isn't as bad as Odin, or Loki for that matter..." Strife looks up at the approaching twilight, then she looks back down to Sweiza, "...they are all the same, either trying to twist reality to their fate, or trying to alter time itself. I do not approve."
Sweiza stares at her blankly. This conversation is above her head. Sprite's wings flutter once; this really doesn't concern him, only the road ahead.
Strife continues, "Many Valkyrie and some of the Valken of the Thorian share my belief that Odin is old and miserable. He would bring these older ideas, force them on others and make us miserable; all while he hoards anything and everything for himself when it could benefit civilization and greater society."
"You said he was paranoid with grand plans. You sound the same."
Strife stands up sharply and points her finger at Sweiza, "I'm doing this to preserve my kin, as well as my cmrads. Greater society and in turn, civilization would benefit from it. And quite frankly..." Strife's hands come down to her hips, she looks down smugly at Sweiza, "...to preserve what little I have left. An rude daughter among other things."
Strife drops to a crossegged position again. She takes her elbow and nudges Sweiza whom has flinched and lookedv away. Sweiza's gaze slowly returns."
"That aside, as fate would have it this device ties into all of that. After consulting different texts and rumors about watches and gemstones that change color, I slowly figure out what this thing does. As it turns out, it is a form of compass, but comes in the form of a watch. It points a person in the direction of their destiny. It functions as a time piece to that effect, assuring the endowed wearer when they will meet said fate. The watch hands are always changing direction. I still don't quite understand it. However, the crystal is easier to understand, as I've tested it to that effct. It changes coor based on fate. Us mere mortals can really only tap into forces tha might affect our fate. Namely, the mood of others and how they feel about us or how they discriminate against us thereof."
Sweiza makes a weird , "oo" noise, but then simply trails into an "Oh."
"That thing feels evil." Sprite says it with his arms crossed. His wings spasm once quickly as if to address that effect."
"Correct. It is a device designed by someone with evil intent, or so I gather. It is mrant to bring a user to ther enemie and nuetraize them. Wat better eay to alter fate. However, as you have shown Vera, it has a habit of drawing people into itself, as if it has a mind of its own. Almost as if it were alive and wants to change its fate or nuetralize eneies that would put itself in jeopardy."
Sweiza blinks once, "...and you are using this 'Penchant' on Odin?"
"Strife shakes her head and crosses her arms, "No, Odin seeks suh a device due to his paranoid delusions. I intend to use it to follow Loki's essence and locate his final torture chamber."
Sweiza blinks and then perks up, "If it is Loki's domain, doesn't that mean he coud have been the Stag from earlier?"
Strife finally stands up, "You are smarter than I give you credit. But had you not been drawn in by this thing, I would have been able to alert you to that fact sooner."
Sweiza flinches again. She hides her embarrassment as Sprite snickers, Strife has won again.
It now occurs to Sweiza that Strife my have a plan surrounding everything she does... or at least their current adventure against Odin and fate.
—-
Later in the day Sweiza suddenly stops. She faces her mentor. Strife’s eyebrows perk up. Sweiza says nothing.
“What?” Strife isn’t amused.
Sweiza holds up her rucksack towards Strife.
“If I wanted to, I can do the same with this?” Sweiza says it, lowering the rucksack to her belly.
It takes Strife a few seconds to understand what she means.
Strife’s look gets serious. “Be weary of having your Sprite friend inside of it when you do so. I notice he likes to rest in there quite often. Never must a living thing be summoned to our soul space, or there are consequences.”
“Soul space?” Now it is Sweiza’s turn to be baffled. “Is that where our stuff goes?”
“In a manner of speaking. There is always a risk for the being in question to die or come back with a missing limb or worse. So don’t do it.” Strife clicks her heels together once as if making a point and continues past the girl. Sweiza looks down at the rucksack. Sprite hovers nearby once. The rucksack disappears, then reappears. For good measure, Sweiza attempts to summon her bow and arrow. It doesn’t work. She looks up once. All she says is, “Hmm.” This might take some practice.
—
Sweiza has to often pause and stop to read the book she is perusing. Strife waits patiently, time and time again. Studies wait for noone, so must a person wait for them. Sweiza seems enthralled with dragons in particular. She looks up and around and sees Strife watching her. It is Sprite whom pops up from behind Sweiza’s shoulder and then flies over to Strife. He lets out a chirp.
“Who would win in a fight, a dragon or a giant?”
Strife’s face smirks briefly. “I do not believe a dragon would be so stupid as to be within reach of a giant.”
Sprite crosses his arms, “That doesn’t mean anything.”
Strife cocks an eyebrow up at him, “Only those foolish or brave enough walk among the giants.”
She shakes her head and walks off, leaving him to his devices.
“Hey, wait!” Sprite flies after her. Did she mean the trio are stupid?
—
“Vera!” Strife says it louder than normal, with some tone. Sweiza is about ten paces ahead. She stops and Strife catches up with her. Strife produces the jar with the gadfly in it. It buzzes around angrily.
Sweiza stares down at it once. She pokes the jar. The fly again buzzes around angrily.
“Are you familiar with how the original story behind Thor’s Hammer?”
Sweiza shakes her head. “Strife, please keep it short and sweet.”
Sprite perks up at the word ‘sweet’. Strife smiles and shakes her head.
“Oh, very well.” Strife says it disappointed.
“As you know, Loki is a trickster and caused all manner of foolishness and problems in Midgard. One such manner of mischief involved him sheering off the hair of Thor’s wife Sif.”
Sweiza lets out a laugh, “He’s not a very smart god is he?”
Strife shakes her head and smiles. She likes where this is going, perhaps her plan will work. She shakes the jar a few times for good measure. She continues speaking, “When Thor caught wind of Sif’s hair, he wasn’t too happy. He found Loki and threatened with everyone one of his bones being broken. Loki may be a fool…” Strife brings the jar up to her face and eyes the gadfly once, it flies around even angrier, “…but Thor is one of the few beings he will not trifle with. The story goes that Loki through his misadventures knew of a group of elven smiths, ‘Sons of Ivaldi’ as they were called. He had them forge a new head of hair for her, rather a beautiful and enchanted golden wig. Thor was pleased and let the god go.”
By this point the gadfly has stopped flying. It seems to be sitting still. Strife eyes it with intent. She continues the story. “The gods were most impressed with what Ivaldi’s sons had produced. Gods are rather enchanted by mystical items you must understand. I don’t know the specifics, but the elven brothers turned around and fashioned a fantastic ship. I’m sure you’ve heard of Freyr’s flying ship that can catch a fair wind whenever the captain so chooses.”
“Freyr? Oh Freya!” Sweiza says it as quick as she can. Her smile and laugh is ended abruptly as Strife smacks her upside the head.
“One shouldn’t use the gods’ names in vane.”
Sweiza refuses to cry. Her trembling body and watering eyes betray her. She winces from the pain. Sprite flies in front of her. “Crybaby.”
Sweiza sniffles once and stifles her tears.
“Regardless…” Strife walks in front of the girl and scowls at her. Her eyes remain narrowed and then her expression softens, “Another such item was fashioned with a peculiar metal. This item is a weapon, I’m sure you are familiar with the spear of ‘Gungir’?”
Sweiza nods, her face red. Strife smirks at her and pats her on the shoulder.
“Walk with me.”
Sweiza does as she is told and the two continue walking.
“Few have actually seen Gungir. Thankfully, I have been through Castle Gungir and seen it in Odin’s war room. The spearhead, as the legends attest, is dotted in runes. I am sure they have some meaning, but I do not understand how such enchantments work. Odin forbids their usage in Valhalla and would know if a Valkyrie in Midgard dared to defy his will throughout the land. I did however, get the honor of meeting the high lord himself at one of the many festivals of the slain. The warriors fought as usual, and then they got drunk at the table. Odin was among them. Apparently the wood of the world tree was used to make the shaft of the thing. I would imagine it can repair itself if it snaps in two. No idea on the spear head.”
“Strife, please refrain from hitting me again.”
Strife looks over at her, and merely stifles her smile. “Perhaps. But Valkyrie must be able to endure pain and be intelligent enough to avoid such situations.”
Sweiza does not appear to be wise to Strife’s plan. Hopefully it is working. Strife shoves the jar in front of Sweiza and the girl takes it. Hopefully Sweiza’s lack of dignity and grace will yield shaking the jar further.
Strife stands in front of the girl so the two are face to face, “I’m sure as you know, elves and dwarves cannot stand each other. One is enchanted and graced with magic, they also come from a cleaner land. I think it is the eastern lands of Vanir and Alfgard. They tend to live an isolationist attitude and do not easily welcome outsiders. It’s easy to see then, why they do not like the dwarven smiths that live underground.”
Strife turns around and sharply looks at the girl, “There is a point Vorkera, so quit making faces. Honestly.”
Sweiza’s tongue about faces and backs into her mouth quicker than it ever has. Sprite (whom is on her shoulder) simply lets out a snicker.
“It’s rare to find either dwarves or elves outside their respective realms. Dwarves prefer to live underground, I think due to the proximity of Svarta to Jotunher, it is to escape Loki’s influence. Regardless, the two races do not normally concern themselves with the concerns of man.”
Strife pulls the left side of her hair away and reveals the sliced tip of her barely elven ears. “Unless of course matters of courtship and love are concerned.”
Sweiza’s hand instinctively reaches up to her own ear. She has elven blood, but supposedly it is dark elven blood from Myrkvellir. She doesn’t press the issue.
“When weapons of a superior craft were needed within the ‘Halls of the Slain’, Loki’s guile landed him the job. He arranged for the Sons of Ivaldi to meet at the great hall. However, Loki also arranged for the two great dwarven mastersmiths Brokk and Sindri to meet also. When the two groups met, an argument broke out. Loki had gotten what he wanted. Loki bragged that no one could forge better weapons than the elves of Alfgard, Ivaldi’s sons whom were the great masters. Brokk and Sindri did not take kindly to this. So a wager was placed. In addition to the new superior weapons, Brokk and Sindri would forge better items than Freyr’s ship, Sif’s hair, and Gungir itself. Brokk bet his own head to that of Loki, that the two dwarven smiths could forge something superior.
While dwarves don’t use magic for everyday items, they do use it for forging. Sindri had a magic endowed forge that was extremely hot. The billow wielded by his brother was also enchanted. This helped forge special items you must understand. The first of these special items was a living statue, a boar, to win the favor of the gods. It was gifted to Freyr. While it was being forged, Loki hatched his plan. He turned into a gadfly and bit the brother Brokk on the hand. Brokk was undeterred and kept working the billow. Again Loki tried during the forging of the second item, the ring Draupnir.”
Strife pauses. She looks down at the gadfly in the jar. Sweiza looks down. Sweia looks up at Strife once. Strife’s eyebrows raise; she is looking right through the girl’s soul. There seems to be an understanding. Strife holds a mock jar and shakes her hands. Sweiza’s eyes widen and she shakes the jar. The fly is bounced around angrily; the jar moved around even more randomly than Strife herself would have tried. Sweiza seems to be enjoying this as she keeps shaking the jar on occasion.
Strife continues.
“I had once heard that Odin possessed a ring that could multiply itself every nine nights. After some basic research, it turns out the tales is true. The ring in question is named Draupnir. Put two and two together. You get the idea. I am under the impression this ring is how Odin has produced all of his wealth for his fanciful follies and adventures over the millenia. Regardless, during the forging of this item, the shapeshifter tried biting Brokk in the neck. This angered Brokk, but he billowed even faster. Supposedly this is why Draupnir produces eight rings per every nine nights, instead of just dripping gold into a single ring every nine nights. So the story goes.”
Sweiza stops shaking the jar. Sprite flies up to it. He stares down at the fly. He figures out who the gadfly is. He pulls the corners of his mouth with his fingers. He then sticks his tongue out at the fly, points his finger and laughs at him and flies off. The fly buzzes around with a fury. It starts to glow. It isn’t noticed by Sprite and Sweiza.
“And the third prize of this dumb story?” Sweiza says it, setting the jar down. Her hands go to her hips. Strife is looking at Sweiza with an amused look.
“Mjolnir was forged as the third gift. However, an angry and undeterred Lokisenna bit Brokk in the eye. He finally stopped using the billow to massage his eye. Due to less-than-optimal conditions and a change in the magic in the forge, Mjolnir became a flawed weapon. The handle became unusually short compared to what it would be originally. My best guess is that the weapon probably isn’t as powerful as it should be either.”
Sprite flies up to Strife’s face, “Who won the contest?”
Strife shoos him away. He flies in front of her face again. “Tell me!”
Strife reachs up and grabs him. He lets out a squawk. She holds her hand at arms length and releases him. “Good things come to those who wait.”
Sprite darts to-and-fro once and sends a puff of enchanted blue air at her. It feels colder than normal. She is undeterred.
“When the god’s finally judged the items, even with possible flaws in them, the gods judged the dwarven brothers’s items as the best. In turn they won the bid, and in turn Loki’s head. Using clever semantics, Loki’s neck was not part of the bargain and it would be damaged if they took his head. However, Brokk was unimpressed. The elven sons of Ivaldi were equally unimpressed. Brokk said Loki’s lips would be sewn shut with a magic string; the elven sons of Ivaldi sealed the deal with their magic. Loki was less of a threat from that point on, for a time anyway.”
Sweiza looks down at the gadfly. “This thing?”
Strife nods. “Remember, he is one, but spread out as if many.”
Sweiza holds a ‘pretend’ makeshift hammer in her hands. This one clearly has a longer handle. She swings it like a large hammer through the air. She then holds it like it is a croquet mallet. She swings it at the jar. Strife cocks an eye up.
“No, Vera, like this.” Strife takes a running charge and kicks it.
She offers her hand in that direction and turns towards Sweiza. Sweiza lets out a giggle. Strife also holds a makeshift hammer. Sweiza takes the bait. Strife’s hands release, but Sweiza walks up to the jar one more time. This time there is a distinct red glow emanating from the jar. Sweiza walks up to it, undeterred by the gadfly’s anger. She again holds her makeshift hammer (croquet mallet) at the jar and swings.
There is a rumble in the distance. The jar bounces. Sweiza stops. Worried, she looks around and sees nothing. She lookes with concern at Strife. Strife makes another ‘makeshift’ mallet and makes a small gesture, a mock swing. A nervous Sweiza takes the bait again and raises her hammer. This time the ground tremors.
It doesn’t stop rumbling.
The ground shakes and shakes. Sweiza lets out a shreak, “Earthquake!”
It lasts for about twelve seconds and then stops. Strife and Sweiza have been knocked to their feet. Sprite is alarmed, but safe in the air. They hear something in the distance, a small rumble. It gets louder. Strife knows what is coming next. She crawls to the jar.
“Strife!” Sweiza calls out to her. The rumbling gets louder. It happens only for a split second each time, and in series. At this point Stife is about ten feet away. “Strife, are you alright?”
Strife ignores her and grabs the jar. The fly’s eyes are glowing a bright red. A red aura emanates from the gadfly, and so too the jar is surrounded in the aura. Strife closes her eyes and concentrates. The jar disappears into her beeing. The rumbling however, does not stop. It is getting closer, louder and quicker. It almost sounds as if it is…
Strife turns around, “Vera, get r…” Strife stops midsentence. Sprite suddenly turns a bright blue and flitters behind Sweiza, his glow just barely visible behind her. Sweiza is shaking. She tries to say something. The rumble has slowed somewhat, but is still occuring in series and with a rhythm. Sweiza stammers.
“Honestly…” Strife refrains from walking up to the girl and slapping her across the face.
There is a loud thud behind them in the trees. Strife still stares at the girl, whom has dropped to her butt on the ground. She shakes while her hand points in the air in the direction behind Strife. Strife raises her head and realizes she let her guard down. Sweiza’s commotion distracted her. Strife turns around. She looks up. In the distance, in a clearing above the treeline. Blackness where the eyes should be, white hair in a ponytail, a pointed nose, drunken looking facial features…
Sweiza is pulled from her stammer and sitting position to her feet. Strife pulls her in the opposite direction of the giant.
“Vera, RUN!”