Their late departure resulted in taking seven days instead of six to reach Lho Allanar, but Einar was glad he had listened to Lyeneru, who informed him it would be worth it.

Coming over the slow rising hill cast a breathtaking view below in the valley that was lush and filled with life.

The city was in a circle with a river coming into it from the north and splitting somewhere inside, departing both southwest and southeast from the capital.

Farmland that was soon ready to be harvested ran for miles, a few small houses scattered amongst the fields.

“Is that a new wall?”

“The King and Queen ordered it a few years ago. The stone is taking longer to acquire because of some monsters that have appeared at our main quarries, but yes, they are building a new wall.”

Lyeneru pointed to the section that was about a third done, and workers were like ants, moving stones at the furthest edge of the field.

On the side closest to the capital was another wall that ran along the entire city, and inside it were more fields. Beyond them was a third wall that he could only see over because of their position right now.

“Those look like training grounds for warriors back there,” Einar said as he squinted, shading his eyes with a hand.

“They are. Now my brothers and sisters train before going to the fields. Almost every elf is required to spend time learning to use a weapon of some kind.”

Letting out a low whistle, Einar appreciated the training idea, but wondered how they managed such a feat. A large white wall stood out after those trainingareas, and only a few of the taller houses stood above it.

However, one that couldn’t be missed was a white tree that had to be over three hundred feet tall, occupying the center of town.

Stonework was wrapped around it, creating almost a stair-like feature as it rose upward along the white bark to where leaves that seemed to reflect light moved in the wind.

“What color are those leaves? Why do they shimmer like that?”

“It is because they are the color of gold,” Lyeneru replied.

He saw her grin.

“She’s not lying,” Thorve informed him.

***

“Einar Sibbison, I am Salihn, Captain of the gate. We have been expecting you.”

An elven woman dressed in plate armor that looked like something out of a movie sat on a horse so white, snow would get jealous.

Her hair was tied into a tight braid, small clips wrapped around it every six inches. On her back was a shield that seemed regal with the rose-colored band of metal that bordered it and a sword much longer than the ones Varitan used was in the scabbard on her horse's side.

“I apologize for the delay. We left Camalin later than we had expected and my guide informed me that we should see Lho Allanar in the morning. She was not wrong about how captivating a sight it is.”

Her stony face seemed to break slightly at the praise of her city and a slight upward turn of her lips appeared for a few seconds before being banished once more.

“She is not wrong. Our city, while beautiful at night, can never compare to the early light when the sun dances with our niben Yggdrasil.”

“You are correct. The golden shimmering of the light leaves no doubt how blessed the elves are by Freyr.”

Another small smile appeared as the Captain cocked her head, glancing at Lyeneru.

“Have you trained him how to win our hearts?”

“No, Captain. I must warn you, this Viking has the tongue of Loki, the wisdom of Odin, and bears the mark only a priest can give when directed by Freyr.”

Both blue eyes jerked open and the woman’s horse took a few steps back before she brought it under control, no doubt confused by the sudden squeezing of her legs.

“He bears the–”

“They all bear it.”

Salihn’s eyes widened even more, and she mouthed something in elvish, to which Lyeneru smiled and nodded.

“Forgive me sister, but we would prefer to keep this a secret until they have met with the blessed one.”

Her lips moved silently and after a moment, she nodded, her composure restored to its original stony complexion.

“Well then, please follow me, brother Einar. I shall do my best to help you arrive at Freyr’s temple before worrying about the other things that demand your presence.”

A frown appeared and then the Captain glanced behind Einar a few times, studying the caravan of wagons that had grown since he first came to Alfheim.

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“I know a place that would be perfect for you… for my brothers and sisters. I shall have one of my guards escort them there. Tell me how many shall join us on this trip to the temple?”

“Fourteen.”

Nodding, she turned and pulled her gauntlet off one hand, put two fingers in her mouth and let out an ear-piercing whistle that would make Thorodd jealous.

An elf dashed forward from the gates and the pair began to converse with one another.

Moving a little bit closer to the wall, he studied the thirty foot tall section to the side of the gate.

“What are you looking at?”

Thorodd’s question didn’t surprise him but Einar focused on the lines he could barely see in the defense. Tiny spaces about twenty feet high were scattered every seven feet. A small square outline that was almost impossible to see, yet his Perception had pointed them out.

He turned and motioned to Lyeneru who was still by the captain, listening to her give orders.

“What do you need?” she asked upon arriving to where he stood.

“Are those hidden siege holes?”

“I’m sorry what?”

He smiled at the confused look on her face as her left eyebrow rose at least an inch.

“Those small spaces on the wall, every seven or eight feet, about twenty feet up. Are those siege defenses?”

“How can you… I mean yes…” she sputtered a few times, trying to get words out, and finally grunted, taking a deep breath. “Don’t tell Salihn you can see them or she will make someone's life miserable trying to hide them even better.”

“What in hel are you two talking about? I can’t see anything!”

Thorodd was leaning forward on his horse, scanning the area that Einar talked about.

“But you can see them. Is that only because you know they are there or?”

Lyeneru frowned as she nodded.

“Yes… One, because I know they are there and two, because I know they are there. How you can pick them out from here makes me really dislike you right now. Just make sure you don’t tell anyone. Those are a secret and no, I won’t tell you why.”

Osvif arrived and followed everyone's gaze and started to chuckle.

“Those are perfect places for chained projectiles.”

“DO NOT TALK ABOUT THEM!”

Immediately she went red and all of them turned to see that everyone within shouting distance was looking at them.

“Seriously!” she snapped, much quieter this time. “Do not talk about it here! When we get somewhere private, I will share with you what I can.”

Osvif shrugged, grinning that he had simply ridden up at the right time and was going to get rewarded for doing nothing.

A whistle from the Captain brought them back to where she was waiting, her eyebrow cocked.

“Is everything okay?”

“Sorry, just learning what I can and can’t talk about while we are here,” Einar replied.

Captain Salihn nodded and motioned toward the gate.

“Always a wise decision to learn what is acceptable for discussion before one says something they cannot take back. Now then, if you will follow me, I have someone coming who will lead you to a place that is being prepared for you all.”

***

Two elves rode slightly ahead on their black stallions, letting Einar and all the others follow behind at the slow pace as the Vikings took in the views within Lho Allanar.

Even Katanes inner buildings struggled to match the beauty of the architect present on the most common homes.

How someone managed to bend that wood like that… back home that would be worth millions or more for a single door.

Each home sported wooden doors with carvings that seemed almost alive. Trees, mythical creatures, Freyr and more were all carved with detail that spoke of a skill far beyond anything Einar had witnessed in all his time in Midgard.

Camalin had been impressive and yet now, it seemed like a high school work of art versus something found in a museum.

“Does every house and building have decorations like these?”

Lyeneru shook her head and pointed down a side street as they moved along the worked stone that lined the road. Both she and Varitan had a smirk present.

“Anytime a Viking or dwarf comes to our capital, they are led down this street. While most of our homes are exceptional, this is considered a way of showing off to our guests the talents our people possess.

“Take, for example, those statues.”

Einar saw the pair she motioned toward and followed, as she veered off slightly to get closer to the grassy border that they were set next to.

A four story building, lined with stone carvings on each floor showcased the work of a master stone carver. Some scenes of people hiding and playing in a forest looked lifelike as the first floor used the bushes, shrubs and trees that were close to the building to add depth and color to the carvings.

“The one who crafted these are known as the shapers of stone. Even the dwarves who have come gave compliments, one even saying it might rival some of their works.”

Jumping off her horse, Lyeneru put her finger on the outstretched hand of the elf she stood next to.

“Touch right here, feel her hand, and tell me what you think.”

Climbing down and moving quickly, Einar reached out and stroked the carved hand.

He knew his eyes were widening, but it seemed impossible to believe what his fingers told him.

Both of his hands encased the lifesize statue and as his skin touched the stone, it didn’t bear the coldness he expected.

A hint of warmth was there, and it felt like this woman’s hands were real.

It felt like skin almost.

“How? How can this feel like this?”

Lyeneru shrugged and moved toward her horse.

“No one knows the secrets anymore, but it was rumored at one time he could make statues come to life. Some believed it might have been Freyr himself, coming down and playing with us. If ever a statue could come to life, it would be these.”

Einar forced himself to let go of the stone hand, taking a step back and staring into the eyes that seemed to track him.

A slightly upward turned pair of lips were carved, almost begging to be touched. Even the gown she wore seemed to move.

“Truly a work of art.”

“That is what we shall lose if Ragnarok comes.”

Her voice was quieter, and Lyeneru’s tone had become sorrowful.

Focusing on her, Einar nodded.

“You know my answer. I endeavor to do what I can to prevent the loss of such gifts.”

Smiling, she nodded and motioned to the pair of elves waiting to continue leading them through the city.

“I know, and all of my people will be grateful for that. Now let’s hurry. I’m afraid if Varitan and I do not get you all where you are expected quickly, I shall still get in trouble, no matter what we have done.”

Without waiting, Einar strode to his horse and climbed onto its back.

“Then let’s go. I can’t have my friends getting in trouble just because I stop to look at everything you intentionally brought me to see.”