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Ars Nova
Ch. 66 Lost Anger

Ch. 66 Lost Anger

“Huh?” Hessian blurted out, unable to understand where his giant blond friend came from—and why Bjorn carried him in a princess cradle.

“Never took you for the type to know our old songs, Hess,” Bjorn smirked, and Hessian realised his last remaining friend was still alive… still.

Blood marred Bjorn’s platinum blond hair, and on the right side of his grinning face, he sported a nasty, large gash. Further down below, it looked even worse. One of his ribs protruded with a gaping hole next to his stomach, sullying his pants pink and black.

Half a dozen arrows protruded from his back like a porcupine. And worst of all, Bjorn was missing half of his left arm.

“Bjorn… you.”

“Hm?” Bjorn stopped running and put Hessian down. He inspected the various wounds and touched the rib. He laughed it off. “Tis but a scratch.”

“Don’t fuck with me!” Hessian shouted and clenched his fists. “Bjorn, your body, you–”

“Relax, I’ve had worse.” Bjorn gave Hessian a toothy grin, showing off his discoloured teeth. He patted Hessian’s shoulder. “I've got you, buddy. Let me take care of this.”

Bjorn picked up a random sword and turned back to Kara and her army of Scorpion People. “Hey, sorry to tell you this, but you’re reaaaaaally not my type.”

Kara curled her lip in confusion.

“Sure, you got the largest rack and widest hips I’ve ever seen, and damn, I would like to know more, but no thanks.” Bjorn squared his shoulders and cracked his neck, pointing his sword at Kara. “How about we end this in a more civilised manner?”

“Raaaaa!” Kara replied in the only way Bjorn wanted to hear it, but her charging at him with her army was not something he liked.

“A last standing, eh? Worthy of a warrior's death.” Bjorn’s broad and porcupined back stood before Hessian like a steady wall—the steadiest and most reliable one Hessian knew.

The hall trembled. Hessian readied his sword next to Bjorn. “See you in Hel, friend.”

Bjorn laughed and stomped with his foot, fissuring it. “You ain’t going that way.” The ground broke below Hessian’s feet. He fell through. Bjorn gave him an amicable smile. “Drinks are on me. Survive, Hess. I'll wait for you in Valhalla.”

Hessian tumbled into the darkness with the sounds of battle raging in the distance. Fickle lights flashed around his hazy vision and disappeared just as quickly. Hessian thrashed with his weapons and shouted throughout the experience until he landed in a heap of rubble.

Yells and clanging filtered into his ears. Hessian imagined more Scorpion People charging his way through the darkness. Blood curled up in his mouth, and Hessian threw up. He was entirely content to go down fighting with Bjorn at his side, but not like this.

“Not alone.” Hessian crunched, “I refuse to die alone.”

“Bitter puppy,” Kara’s rusty voice boomed in the ancient catacombs, coming closer. Hessian ran and swiped with his sword at nothing. He couldn’t see anything except a golden light at the end of the grim and desolate hall.

Bright sunlight surrounded him, but Hessian felt anything but salvation. It was pure rage when he saw the figure approaching him with a face that belonged to none other than Kiur.

Hair like woven gold. Red eyes that shone like garnet stones with warm, sun-kissed skin, golden jewellery, and a blue shawl wrapped around his body. It was unmistakably him. The person Hessian couldn’t help but despise.

“I'LL CUT YOU TO PIECES!” Hessian’s vocal cords tore. He was content to witness his end with the last remaining friend and comrade he had. After his mother was gone, Bjorn was the one to be at his side, and Hessian wished he would be the last—but they denied Hessian that honour.

Bjorn denied him the honour of dying together—making Hessian live longer than he would.

Seeing Kiur standing before him sent Hessian into a rage. That weak-willed and fickle boy had quickly turned from a pebble to a thorn in Hessian’s side. He wanted nothing more than to return the favours he owed to him.

Stepping closer, Hessian brought the sickle sword closer until it prickled Kiur’s throat, but then the humming of the blade stopped. Kiur was smiling so gently and full of warm light that the sword stopped on its own.

“We don’t need to fight.” Kiur stretched out his palm. “How about we calm down and talk like friends?”

“Friends?” Hessian glared at the palm. A nerve was ready to pop from Hessian’s forehead. “Like I care, you–” He tried to punch Kiur in the face, but Hessian’s fist lost its momentum closely before impact—it was like his fist didn’t want to hurt him.

“It’s alright.” Kiur held Hessian’s hand with both hands and patted it gently. A jolt ran down Hessian’s spine, and his brain readjusted his failing vision when a sense of warmness washed over him.

Kiur’s image blurred. His features changed from an adolescent boy's to a man's.

He had skin bathed in liquid bronze. Short golden hair that flowed like the rays of the sun. He wasn’t wearing anything except for a pair of trousers and boots, so his muscles were practically bulging out, but his large hands were as soft as the smile he couldn’t hide behind his beard.

Opening his eyes, they were not red. Instead, they were like the bright blue sky. That man was not Kiur, and Hessian finally realised it.

“You don’t have to fight, it’s alright.” The man’s gentle voice washed over Hessian like a soft breeze, carrying away any weight and calming any beast.

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

Scratch the last part. Hessian would still fight him, but yet again—the sword harmlessly stopped before the man’s face. Pinching it with his two fingers, the man lowered Hessian’s sword and reached out for Hessian again.

“There’s no need for–”

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” Hessian went at it again.

He punched, elbowed, and bit the man, but nothing worked. Eventually, Hessian resorted to kicking the man between the legs—something Hessian used to beat Bjorn into submission in the good old times. The man flinched, and Hessian thought it worked, but the man kept smiling playfully, aggravating Hessian.

“Please, I think that’s enough fun.”

Another nerve was about to pop from Hessian’s forehead. “I’ll give you enough!”

The more punches Hessian delivered at the man, the more he tired, but he noticed his wounds closing—not even the poison was clouding Hessian’s mind as much anymore. He was recuperating, yet he still couldn’t hurt the man.

A Reiszer specialised in destroying. Hessian was used to destroy whatever he touched, but this was a first. “Who are you?” Hessian huffed, holding his knees.

Dimples formed from the man’s smile, making Hessian sick of how sincere and bright it was. One more minute and Hessian was sure he would start kowtowing and apologising—sincerely.

“He is the God of Light!” announced another man, disgruntled, swallowing the light in the room and replacing it with oppressive darkness. A tall and lanky man appeared beside them with dark blue skin, long, dark and smooth hair and a short beard.

Hessian glimpsed at the faint colour of lavender in the second man’s dull irises—his eyesight was gone.

“You fatuous pup!” The darker man glowed and shouted. “You’re ignorant of the forgotten past because of your overlords. If you knew who my brother was, then you wouldn’t–”

“Brother, please, don’t–”

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“You are too soft!” The taller one complained. “You are amazing but soft, brother. This cub will never respect you. How many times did he hit you?”

“Oh, I didn’t count. It’s fine, really,” the light god replied meekly. He smiled at Hessian, who, once more, attempted to slash at him—it didn’t work, though. “Besides, it won’t hurt me, anyway.”

“Can we drop this?” Hessian asked. “Who are you two, and why can’t I hurt you?” Hessian pointed the sword at the blond man, but the longer Hessian did, the weaker his arm became—compelled to lower itself and stop fighting.

“God of Light,” Hessian thought. “As if I would believe that. There are no gods. They’re dead.”

“Well, you better believe it,” spit the dark and taller one, biting his nail and pacing around Hessian while scratching his chin—though he was blind, he could still perceive Hessian perfectly. “We're brothers, two gods of opposite ends. You should respect us and not belittle my brother.”

“Respect you?” Hessian almost laughed out loud but stopped himself around the darker god. “You two look nothing alike. Let me guess, different mothers or, perhaps, fathers?”

“You impertinent ratfink!” The dark god shouted. “We have the same parents; we’re twins!” Caustic darkness swept over the man’s hands and washed over Hessian, feeling too sick to breathe.

He choked. It was as if the poison was returning and corroding his lungs.

“Now, now, brother,” the smaller blond god moved his brother away until he relaxed. “How about we introduce ourselves to this young man, eh?" He bent his knees before the wheezing Hessian. "Hi, my name is Baldr, and this is my dear twin brother Hodr.”

“Not good enough!” complained Hodr, theatrically throwing up his hands. “I’m the blind one who wields the bow, the God of Darkness, and twin brother of the gentle and golden child, beloved by the world. He's the God of Light. You stand before us twins, The Gods Hodr and Baldr!”

—❂—

Hessian stared blankly at him. “Never heard of either of you two. Maybe you aren’t that important anymore.”

“Why you little!” Hodr closed his hands around Hessian’s throat quicker before his opponent could realise it. Hessian was ready to gag, but nothing happened. Hodr removed his hands and grunted, dissatisfied. By closer inspection, Hessian saw Hodr’s and Baldr’s bodies flickering in and out of existence.

“What’s wrong with you two?”

Baldr smiled innocently. It infuriated Hessian, reminding him of Kiur. “You see, our forms aren’t fixed to this world because we aren’t exactly alive. We have left this world long before your people forgot about us.”

“So you’re dead? How’s that possible?”

“I'll tell you how!” Hodr croaked. “It’s the fault of this blasted trickster! He used me to kill my brother in front of everyone when they played around with his new invulnerability." Hodr stomped, seethed, shouted and threw rocks and pebbles. Baldr patted his back. "I was so sad to be left out. Then he came to offer his help by guiding my aim so I could take part in the festivities. My happiness didn’t last long before I realised I killed my own brother. Then the others killed me in retaliation, pah!”

“Wait," Hessian was confused, "you said you wield a bow but are blind. How does that work?”

“Get off my back with details!”

“Fine, whatever!” barked Hessian. “So you two are dead gods?”

“Precisely,” said Baldr, his finger guns blinked in and out of existence.

“Then why am I seeing you? I haven't died yet! I would have been alongside my friend if not for….” Hessian grit his teeth. “Curse you, Bjorn.”

“Being dead isn’t great anyway… unless you can feast with the slain.” Hodr waved Hessian away. Baldr twiddled with his thumbs.

“You see, friend,” Baldr sheepishly looked his way, “can I call you that?”

“No.”

“Ok, son–”

“No. Better!”

“You see, buddy,” Baldr continued, “I asked my brother here to come and help me with your, ehm, you know.”

Hessian bared his teeth. “Know what?”

Hodr groaned, “Your anger issues, cub.”

“I don’t have any anger issues!”

“Exactly what someone with anger issues would say.”

“Shut up!” Hessian barked out and once again slashed at Baldr with the same result. “And why can’t I hurt you?”

“By the Mistletoe, did you not hear? He's invulnerable!” Hodr yelled. “So quit slashing at him like a fool. It’s no use.”

“I will stop when I feel like it!” Hessian tried to hit Baldr again, but now he caught it with his bare hand. His image flickered to that of Kiur for a moment, and Hessian punched him—harmlessly.

“Why do you hate that boy so much?” Baldr asked gently and gripped Hessian’s arm. “He did nothing to you, yet he is your source of anger. Let it drive you further, and you will burn everything in your way.”

“Stop spouting nonsense," Hessian growled. "I'm well in control, and you know nothing of my anger for this ignorant son of a–”

“Raaaaaaaaaaaa!” Kara’s voice boomed in the distance. A ceiling collapsed, and her enormous form appeared in a cloud of dust. She charged towards Hessian with her gleaming eyes and swords. Hessian could barely react when the swords stopped before his face.

"Fancy talking now, cub?" Hodr asked impatiently. “Or shall we see where this ends?”

Baldr nudged his brother. “Be nice.”

—✹—

The blood from Kara’s massive claws dripped on Hessian’s nose. They were so close that Hessian could smell the iron. Would the gods not have interfered, then Hessian would have been torn into a cheap cutlet—Hessian cutlets without sauce.

Hessian’s grip on his sword tightened.

“Want to reconsider that thought, ignorant pup?” Hodr asked and stepped into the pool of blood that trailed Kara. “Didn’t this river result from your blind anger? Your irrational mind, didn’t it bring the end to your friends and comrades?”

Hessian growled at Hodr. “Stop belittling me. They knew what we were getting into.”

“Oh, they did, but none expected where your anger would lead them to.” Hodr waved with his hand, and the room rippled with dim purple light. Bodies lay strewn in the dusty, decrepit room.

There was Nertha, with a hole in her stomach. Lovis cut in half. Everyone was gone except for Bjorn.

He stood frozen amidst the battle with the Scorpion People. Hessian gagged; Bjorn was his moral compass, who supported him with all his strength. “We could have managed it.” “I didn’t deserve a friend like you.”

“Not like this,” replied Baldr and patted Hessian’s back where a bone set back into place and poison expelled from his skin into purple plums. “Your body is breaking down. There was little you could have done. Not just poison, but anger clouded your vision. Senseless anger with no restraint led you to a misguided path.”

“I don’t need restraint!” Hessian tried to slap Baldr’s arm away, but his hand sluggishly fell on his. “I need strength. Be it through anger or whatever else there is. I'll rip those Scorpion People apart, and then I'll get that golden boy and–”

“And what?” Hodr quipped. “You already lost. Your anger led you to nothing but a bloody end for you and your friends. Did your mother teach you nothing?”

“Don’t talk about my mother!” Hessian shouted. Baldr caught his sword before it cut the blind god. “You have no right to talk about her! No one does! She made me the person I am. She made me strong.”

Hodr wrinkled his nose. “This is useless, brother.”

“It isn’t,” protested Baldr. “He lost his path and forgot his mother’s teachings. He lacks a father’s wisdom."

“Pah, he lacks more than that," Hodr grunted. "A mother’s patience would be wise. We could hang him on a tree, gauge his eye out or pierce his heart with a spear, but that wouldn’t make him any wiser, would it?”

Hessian wanted to protest, but his legs weren’t working. The rush of energy was leaving him quickly, and the poison returned. A red light was coming through the cracks of the ceiling. Suddenly, he felt very hot.

“What’s happening?” Hessian gasped, collapsing to the ground.

“The Solstice,” noted Baldr, sending some rays back with his fist, but he couldn’t stop them from burning Hessian’s skin. “You spent too much time down here.”

“The Solstice? It shouldn’t be due for a month or two…”

“Being underground messes with your perception of time,” Baldr explained. “But don’t worry, we can help you. Hold on to this.”

Baldr placed a stone into Hessian’s hand. A gemstone of two dominant colours, orange on one side, purple on the other, and mingling in the middle to white.

“It will help you on your journey, but we still need to help you earn wisdom. We’ll bestow you with gifts!” Baldr pronounced proudly.

“Gifts?” Hessian wondered in suspicion. He never trusted a freely given gift. “I'm fine on my own. I don’t need it.”

Hessian remembered Bjorn and the rest. He gasped as his skin burned. "I'm fine on my own."

Hodr coughed into his fist. “Where you’ll be going, you’ll not survive with anger alone. You already cost the lives of your friends and learned nothing about their value.” Hodr held Hessian’s face and placed his cold thumbs on Hessian’s frontals. “You'll have to endure greater pains to understand your accumulated faults. You shall walk in utter darkness.”

Hessian screamed from the pain that radiated from his temples, but he couldn’t pry himself free—the light was leaving his eyes. “What did you do to me!? I CAN'T SEE!”

Hessian thrashed on the ground, crying and yelling as his skin burned. The darkness surrounded him.

“To gain wisdom, you shall wander in darkness. But don’t worry.” Baldr knelt and held Hessian in his arms like he would a child—Hessian protested vehemently. “By the Mistletoe, none will harm you in your search for light. You will learn wisdom and be gentle.”

Hessian kicked, screamed, bit and elbowed with all the strength leaving his body. His muscles fell limp. He couldn’t move. The poison ate away at his consciousness, and a searing light burned away at his body. All Hessian could feel was pain radiating from every bit of his being before he lost consciousness.

The stone shone brightly in its dual colours, enveloping Hessian and removing him from all the pain. To a place with far greater pain than he wished to experience—paired with the piercing roar of a howl—waiting to get a piece of him.