Einar could feel Shael studying him. Her blue eyes seemed to sparkle as she sat on the green cushion chair, tapping a finger against the silver cup.

“It’s been five minutes since you last spoke. Tell me, have we really surprised you that much?”

She smiled and bobbed her head slowly.

“Freyr appeared to the King and the Queen in a dream the moment the beast fell. They then reached out to me and have prepared the city for this moment. As you saw the team passed you on the road, headed to harvest the male, already knowing where it lies. To say that you have surprised me isn’t correct. It is more than that.”

Licking her lips, she took a drink, slowly removing the cup from her red lips. Then, she returned the cup to her lap, playing with its edge again.

“We wanted to believe it was possible. Mind you, those harnesses and the things you had our crafters creating seemed so foolish, and had I been a person who wagered on things, I would have bet against you, and yet… I have seen firsthand the corpse of the female, harvested and cut up. I heard the joy in our King’s voice as he proclaimed to me the news. Our city has rejoiced, laughter and hope having returned, yet I am not foolish enough not to know what will happen soon.”

“That we must leave and return to our realm.”

Shael shifted on her seat slightly and frowned.

“For a warrior, you are wiser than many who claim to be scholars. Yes… The request you made is wise. Playing both a political game and strengthening your own hand is a dangerous balance if what you have told me is true. It is a shame you could not remain here where we could grant you a little more safety.”

“But that would limit my ability to gather the men and women I must. You and I know there is no way we can win this battle with just eleven Vikings. A time is coming when it will take all my brothers and sisters, and the path I must take is one of balance.”

Setting down the cup he had been holding on the table next to him, Einar leaned forward, clasping his fingers together as he rested his elbows on his knees.

“What I need now will come with a price, and I know it will take you and your people some time to do what I ask. We will work on the ore from the dwarfs next. Can you promise me when the weapons will be ready?”

“I can have some ready in a month, maybe two. The number you requested will take a year, and you must send us a large amount of ore from the dwarfs. Even the King has agreed to use the little we have saved as you have proven yourself as one of us.”

She winced after draining the rest of her drink, setting the cup down on the table near her and waving off the servant who had started approaching.

“Your timeline does not leave a lot of hope for our future. Are you certain Ragnarok is coming so soon”?

Clearing his throat, Einar motioned to a window where a bird had been sitting outside, making a soothing song from the branch it was resting on.

“The bird sings because it knows it is safe. Yet you and I both know that the forces that desire our destruction have made moves. Even the beastkin are at a loss, having seen the truth that someone cost them so many children and their relationship with you. Undead have invaded your lands and those Leuca ango cut you off from the materials your own people needed to harvest from that side of your land.

“Something is doing what it can to keep you from preparing for war. What scares me is how the other realms are being assaulted. Mine is from within. Yours is from outside.”

“And the dwarves,” Shael muttered. “That would explain much about why they no longer come like they once did.”

“Which brings us to tomorrow. While I do not want to insult the King, the Queen, or your people, we must return home quickly. There is much to be done and not a lot of time.”

Rising, Shael moved to where Einar stood and held out her hand.

“Tomorrow then, Viking Sibbison. May Freyr’s blessing always cover you and yours, and may tomorrow be a moment that will never be forgotten.”

Kissing her hand with his lips, he bowed.

“Thank you again, Shael. You have been a most gracious host. Much better than my last.”

She laughed, her voice echoing off the walls as she stood there, shaking her head at him.

“You really do not like Nissa… it is a shame she will find out that sometimes one's actions carry such painful consequences.”

Grinning, he took his leave, listening to the soft laughter that continued until the door shut behind him.

***

“I feel like a fool,” Thorodd muttered as he used his hands to shift the outfit he wore for the hundredth time. “It’s a dress.”

“Quiet!” Thorve snapped as quietly as she could. “This thing costs more than anything else you own!”

Smiling, Einar ignored the pair, back to their petty arguing as he led the column of Vikings into the throne room where the Elven King and Queen sat.

It wasn’t what he had expected, but nothing could have prepared him for what he witnessed.

The large thirty-foot doors that opened from the unassuming entry area led to a brightly lit outdoor area.

Golden leaves reflected the sun's light, giving the enclosure a warm glow. The enclosure was made of a white tree trunk that rose high into the sky, splitting and twisting as air and light touched everything.

Each part of the tree was carved, or perhaps grown to look like elves of all ages, laughing, singing, dancing and enjoying life. The detail was so amazing it looked like they were alive as they walked by, eyes and hair seeming to move and follow them.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Across the small area were a pair of thrones, also made of white wood, woven together to form a single arch. A pair of elves were on them, golden light radiating from their hair and eyes.

Trying not to stare, Einar could feel the power they both seemed to be full of, studying him and the warriors walking silently behind.

Each wore a wood crown covered in golden leaves, sitting straight and regal as they smiled.

A fine white outfit like the one they wore shimmered as they moved slightly, reflecting the light.

Thorodd is right. It feels like a dress, but there is a nice sensation when it touches the skin.

Each of them had a belt made of silver, a rune carved on the front where it clasped together with the sign for Odin on it.

Moving along a path of golden leaves, they followed Shael, whose white hair almost blended in with her outfit, which was tied together and decorated with brown wood and golden leaves.

She stopped about ten feet from the throne, bowing deeply.

Einar and the rest stopped, each bowing as she had, having been instructed by Thorve multiple times about how to act in this moment or the threat of no healing for a week.

“Father and Mother, we have before you today, twelve or our newest children who have done as Freyr has asked, dying many times to free our land of that which plagued us. May I present their leader, Einar Sibbison, and his pack.”

Shael moved to the side as she extended her arm towards them, smiling at him. She slowly left them to experience the full presence of the elven royalty.

Two large smiles appeared as one and it felt like a warm sunny day on the beach.

A wave of relaxation and tranquility seemed to come from the pair.

“We are grateful for your service to our realm.”

As the Queen spoke, it felt like her voice was inside, reverberating within his chest.

“Freyr has told us of the cost and what he did to try and help with some of the pain of your deaths. Know that we cannot truly express our gratitude by the things that we shall give.”

Fighting the urge to tremble, Einar simply stood there, amazed at the power that came from the pair and their words.

“My Queen is right. We are in your debt. Many of our children would have died, having been forced to wait to be reborn, had we attempted to do what you did. Instead, they may continue to live, and the children that have fallen beforehand will be with us again soon, growing our family once more.”

While the Queen’s voice had been like a soothing wind, the King’s came with power, like a wave threatening to topple him over, filling his entire body.

“Forgive me,” the King said, his voice lowering immediately. “I have forgotten how I can impact you. Let me speak as a normal elf for a moment.”

The pair nodded at each other, and the pressure vanished. Their eyes and hair started to dull, no longer radiating with power.

Immediately, the presence that had pushed against him vanished, making breathing easier, as noted by the sound of gasping for air from behind him.

“Thank you for this moment,” Einar managed to get out, bowing again. “We are honored to have assisted Freyr and the Elves, honoring the bargain the gods set forth long ago.”

Both elves smiled.

“You are worthy of much, Einar Sibbison,” the Queen said, her voice now coming from her lips and no longer threatening to blow him over. “You and your warriors have proven the valor of Vikings. As such, we have a promise to keep.”

Clapping her hands, four servants came forth from a wall on the right, each of them appearing from nowhere, as if they had been part of the tree until that moment.

In their hands, each held a small chest, maybe two feet or so in size. Moving as one they came to the edge where the line of Vikings stood and bent down, their white robes shimmering with the light and set them down on the dirt near the golden leaves.

Backing up, they returned to the wall and vanished in a moment. Their images appeared like those that had been there previously.

Blinking and staring intently, Einar could just make out the slightest movement, now realizing that every elf in the room that appeared to be carved in the tree was there, in person and alive.

They stand there like statues… unmoving and barely breathing…

His eyes flickered to the ones with weapons, now seeing the truth of the moment that if there was a need, over twenty warriors with shields and swords would be upon them and that up on the second tier were over fifty archers with bows.

“I had been informed your eye was sharp,” the King stated, a small smirk appearing as he motioned to the chest. “Inside are the items you requested, all the regents we can spare. As more become available, we will ensure to seek you out at the location you gave and offer a fair price for you alone.”

“We are honored and grateful,” Einar said again, bowing as Thorve had demonstrated countless times. “All I can pray for is on the day Ragnarok comes, we are prepared to stand as one against the darkness that tries to destroy all life.”

Nodding, the King’s eyes narrowed, and the slightest frown formed for a second before vanishing.

“Shael informed us that you are in a hurry, so we have one last gift, and then I shall allow you to depart.”

The doors behind them opened, and Einar couldn’t help but grin as the King motioned at the elf coming toward them.

Varitan strode toward them, beaming with pride and excitement. He was wearing the same robe as Lyeneru in a matching outfit. She moved next to him, a cloth-wrapped item in both of her arms.

Everyone stared as the pair moved as one, each step in unison until they reached the same spot Einar stood, bowing to the thrones.

“You bastards,” Einar whispered, smiling as the pair winked at him.

“They carry a gift fit for a Viking who shall lead the coming battle against darkness. This gift does not come lightly and has been in our vault for so long, I’m afraid it had been forgotten.”

It took Einar a moment to realize the King had moved from the throne and was now standing beside him.

Glancing up, he noticed that the elf was almost nine feet tall, the throne having hidden his true stature.

Moving to where Lyeneru stood with the cloth, the King began to unwrap it, revealing a rune-covered white wood handle and a silver axe head etched with lines that seemed to call out to him.

“Your hand, please,” the King said as he took a knife from Varitan’s outstretched hand.

The sensation of the soft skin of the one who co-ruled the Elven people was enough to make Einar shudder, unable to stop himself. When the blade cut deep into his palm, he didn’t even notice it, the simple connection with the King removing any pain.

Soon, the white handle was in his hand. He clenched around it as the King began to glow again, signing as his eyes and hair shone.

Trembling at what ran through him, Einar couldn’t take his eyes off the axe as his blood began to run along the runes, covering the entire handle before vanishing.

“It is yours,” the King boomed, his voice thundering inside his head. “No one can take it from you, not even in death.”

His hand felt light, and when Einar realized he was holding the weapon, no longer supported by the King, he slowly turned it over, studying it from each side.

“That axe belonged to a hero of the elves, Tullaris. Some say that with it, he slaughtered more enemies than there are grains of wheat. Until this week, it had been forgotten. Know that Freyr himself spoke to me and reminded me of it. As you use it, you carry a part of us with you. Honor him and the gift and harvest a new generation of those who seek destruction.

“Say thank you,” Thorve whispered, eliciting laughter from everyone in the room.

“Thank you!” Einar said with a chuckle, bowing deeper than ever before.

“It is my honor. Now go. Celebrate with your friends and return to your realm safely. The gods are watching.”