Lind

Lind was up just before the sun. The forest was alive with life in the early light. He snapped his finger, his campfire winking out with a final crackle. The path to Vanalf was a winding trail that led deep into a steep valley behind Dalstava. The valley was left without much disturbance on purpose, a wilderness only for hunters seeking game, or those brave souls who sought to enter the cave to acquire its magic. He was near the peak of the trail, and today he would descend into the valley and reach the cave.

His horse, a dun-colored steed he’d named Davard, was large for his breed. A necessity, since Lind himself was a larger man. Davard was a strong horse, bred for traversing the mountains, and at only eight years old, he was still young and sturdy.

Lind rolled up his blanket and wrapped it up before stowing it on Davard’s saddle. It didn’t take long for him to saddle up and get back to the trail just as the sun came over the edge of the foggy sea. He wondered what a true sunrise would look like. One that wasn’t obscured by the fog of the shield that wrapped around all of Avskild. Such a thought made him ponder how the rest of the world fared. The lack of Voyagers was concerning. There was always the necessity to travel the portals to ensure the integrity of the magic constructs from the other side, but he had high hopes for the current students. The path through Vanalf was always a mysterious one, and he could never be certain about what type of Grimnir a student would become, but he did often have lucky guesses.

Instincts told him that they would have several Voyagers this next time, even though there was no Voyager instructor among the staff any more. Not since the last one disappeared.

Trees faded behind as Lind neared the crest of the trail. Two distinctive shapes marked either side. One was a wooden pillar, carved from the trunk of a pine. Its surface was etched with men and women, locked in combat with various monsters. Many of the people were being consumed by the beasts, arms, legs, or heads torn or completely lost inside the mouths of the beast. On the other side was a pillar of stone with similar imagery, though the men and women were instead Grimnirs, armed with magic. The people on the stone pillar were victorious, the very peak of the pillar topped with the image of a Valtyra holding the severed head of a serpent. But where the wooden pillar was as clear and smooth as the day it had been carved, the stone pillar looked worn with age, having been scratched and molded by nature over the years.

As the head of Castle Vrodr, Lind felt the deep inclination to meet with King Knos regarding the pillars to see if artisans could be commissioned to repair the damage. He hated to think what the students would feel to pass such ominous depictions.

Once past the pillars, he began the descent into the valley. This was true wilderness. It was not at all uncommon to see bears, boars, moose, wolves, lynx, beavers, or any number of deer, making it a favorite territory for daring hunters. Granted, this was the safest valley to hunt in. Other areas of the island were roamed by larger beasts, and a dragon was rumored to slumber in one of the peaks, though it had not been seen in his generation.

Davard kicked up rocks as they descended, the trail getting less gravelly the deeper they went. A tundra stretched before him for a while before the treeline resumed. Lind was making good time. He would likely reach the entrance to Vanalf by midday. From there, it would take only a quick inspection to determine its integrity.

He could still distinctly remember the first time he’d entered this valley. He’d been thirteen at the time. His family was out foraging for berries when he’d foolishly decided to follow a fox. It didn’t take long before he was completely lost and decided that finding some high ground would be the best way to determine how to get back to Dalstava. Trees blocked his view until he’d practically reached the entrance to the valley.

It was only then that he noticed a strange creature trailing him. The beast was humanoid, only slightly taller than Lind at the time, and it lurked about on two feet, and several large gemstones sprouted from its head like hair. It had seven eyes in total, but its most prominent feature was the massive eye at the center of its face.

Lind screamed and ran, slipping down the slope into the valley. He’d never even heard of such a creature before, but had since come to learn that they were called dwevores. It had managed to crawl directly out of Vanalf, hunting for magic to consume. But if it couldn’t find magic, flesh would do.

It pursued him into the valley, and would have caught him, but two Grimnirs intercepted the monster. A watcher stampeded toward Lind on his horse as a Valtyra dropped from they sky, landing on the dwevore with a thick hack from its battleaxe. They’d saved him and led him back to Dalstava where he was reunited with his family.

That was the same day Lind had decided to become a Grimnir. If only to repay his debt. Ironic that he was blessed with neither the sight of Watcher nor the stamina of a Valtyra, but with the spellwork of a Vitugr. Perhaps knowledge was simply his destiny. Knowledge would help. And he’d also fought his fair share of monsters over the years. Vitugrs were specifically known as the greatest asset in wars, but Avskild had been at peace for so long that the best Lind could do some days was to pass down that knowledge. If war did come again, the future Grimnirs needed to be prepared.

A small watchtower to his left was the last building he’d pass before reaching the forest floor. When he was younger, that tower had always been manned, and he’d even spent a full year positioned there. The reduction in Grimnirs was not a new phenomenon. Their numbers had been declining for decades. From the records Lind had heard and read, the Grimnir army once numbered 4,000 strong. Now the Grimnir Guard was probably shy of 500. It meant that the safety of their portals was more critical now than ever before. He couldn’t envision their enemies outside the shield being any weaker.

The best thing he could hope for when he reached the cave was that nothing was amiss. Or perhaps that there was a small issue, one that could be handled without too much difficulty that might inspire a swell in their ranks.

He came close to the forest where tall pines as old as time stretched into the sky. The scent of them was embedded in the very essence of this place. He took a deep breath, reveling. Already the closeness to Vanalf tickled his skin with the familiar aura of magic. Not even the senses of a Watcher were needed to detect it. He drew his axe from its holster and laid it across his lap.

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Without regular patrols through here, he had no idea what kind of creature could slip out of the cave. Though he could fling fire and ice at will, the axe offered him an extra measure of comfort.

They were two months away from sending the oldest class to Vanalf, a group of eighteen-year-olds. There were only sixteen of them left. It wasn’t uncommon for a few students to drop off in the last year. They would get too nervous to take the final step of venturing into the depths of Vanalf, even though survival rates had been better than ever before. The death toll, however, made it the riskiest job in all of Avskild, and that was before they ever got their magic.

Lind eyed the forest carefully as Davard plodded along. The sooner this was done with, the better, and perhaps Davard wanted a good trot. Lind clicked his tongue and nudged Davard to a trot, hooves thunking against the earthen floor, softened by fallen needles. A pair of deers bounced out of view. He even caught a rare glimpse of a nymph watching him from the branches before it disappeared behind the trunk. That was only his third time seeing one, and he wasn’t sure if it was a good sign or a bad one.

The day was halfway through by the time Lind neared Vanalf. The elevation continued to drop dramatically, and the trees weren’t as thick. His favorite sign that he was close was the collection of cloudberry bushes where the trees were thinner. The berries wouldn’t be in season for a few more months still, but his mouth watered just at the thought of their sometimes sweet, sometimes sour taste. When they were allowed to ripen all the way, their soft texture was the peak of nature’s flavors.

He crossed one final stream before stopping and jumping down from Davard’s back.

A mountainous formation of rock jutted from the ground ahead of him like a massive spike with two more to either side, though not as tall as the middle one. It had the appearance of a giant’s crown, if that giant were the size of a mountain.

Lind tied Davard to a small spruce, and approached the formation with firm steps, following the familiar path. He bounced his axe in his hand as the cave came into full view, just at the base of the central spike. Steam issued from the entrance to Vanalf, and from other cracks and seams along the surface of the formation. It was a dark, gaping hole. If the rock formation was a giant’s crown, then the entrance to Vanalf was an eyeless socket.

For all he knew, it was the ancient body of a giant, the rest of it hidden beneath the earth. The mysteries of Vanalf were endless. It was a cave that connected to magical realms, never meant to be trodden by mere humans. It was supposed that one could travel all the way to a world of elves, or one of trolls, or one of demigods, but such paths were sealed by unimaginable dangers. Perhaps the kind of paths that only Voyagers could survive.

The sight always enraptured Lind with wonder.

But the wonder was cut short.

Something started to lumber out of the cave. Something dangerously familiar.

Lind dove behind a fallen tree trunk and held his breath. A deep, guttural voice echoed up in a language that seemed like it was from a distant memory. Such a beast should not have been able to reach Avskild through Vanalf. The magic of the portals is what powered the shield around their island, but it also shielded certain things from entering Vanalf from the other realms.

Clearly, that had failed.

Lind inched up slowly to peer over the edge of the log as even more voices conversed below. He could scarcely believe his eyes when he saw four of the beasts standing outside the cave, squinting up at the midday sun. They were large creatures, humanoid in shape, but their noses were the size of Lind’s head, and their eyes were the size of plates. Unkempt hair dangled wildly down to their bellies. Their limbs were long, and they wore mismatched clothing, though one of them had metal pauldrons on its shoulders and wielded a massive axe. Another one had two heads, though its second head had only one eye. Their skin was pale gray, dotted with sickly, hairy warts.

Trolls.

The one with two heads was doing most of the talking, its one-eyed head croaking about the sunlight. From what Lind could understand, it also muttered something about, “Getting the others.”

Lind’s grip on his axe tightened, barely restraining himself from rushing out and calling down fire on the monsters. The one thing that held him back was that, despite their hideous appearance, trolls were quite fast, and that they could very likely run him down. Those long limbs of theirs were good for something. There was also a sense of mystery to the trolls. Sometimes they could have a sort of magical resistance. If not for that, he’d probably be able to destroy them in a couple minutes, but he never knew what type of threat they were. Additionally, the more heads a troll had, the more powerful they were, and that two-headed troll could very well have some resistance.

He would need to sneak away, ride back to Dalstava, and inform Mikel and King Knos of the threat immediately before it got any worse.

It was decided. He rolled away, rising to a crouch, fully intent on running back to Davard and riding out of the valley as quickly as possible. When he turned back, however, he found himself face-to-face with a troll, bent down on one knee, watching him with a crooked smile on its hideous face.

“I smelled you, crunchy human,” the troll said, words barely discernible. The other voices near the cave suddenly began to bellow. They’d be upon him in moments.

Lind flicked his arm and a flaming ball launched from his palm. The fireball crashed into the troll’s chest, exploding in flames. A human would have been incinerated, but the troll stumbled back, flailing and screaming. All subtlety lost, Lind summoned a pillar of earth beneath his feet, launching him into the air. He flipped over the troll’s body, five spears of ice launching from each of his fingers. The ice spears stabbed into the troll’s face, resulting in a roar that could have been heard through the whole valley.

Lind landed with a roll, and sprang straight back to his feet. He sprinted to Davard as footsteps thundered up the hill behind him.

“Time to go,” he told the horse as he whipped its reins loose and into the saddle. A massive spear the size of a small tree barreled past Lind, shattering the ground in front of him. Davard reared to the side, and Lind barely dodged beneath the swinging axe of the two-headed troll. He heeled Davard around and urged him to a full gallop. Sparing a glance back, the four trolls were mere steps behind him, but they were losing ground. Unable to keep up with Davard’s speed, the trolls roared in frustration and hurled their weapons at Lind.

The weapons fell short, and Lind was off at full speed up the trail, heart pounding like the thumping of Davard’s hooves.

This was worse than anything he’d expected. Five trolls. Certainly more dangerous than a ship full of draugr. There was also the likelihood that more had snuck through before he’d arrived. How many more would come through?

The shield around Avskild was not gone. They would have definitely caught such a change in the air, and the foggy appearance on the horizon wouldn’t even be there, so the shield had to be operational to some extent, but it was undeniably weakened. There would be no other explanation for the presence of trolls. Even King Knos wouldn’t be able to deny such a thing. And if Vanalf was compromised, how would they risk creating more Grimnirs? The dangers involved would be greater than ever before.

Lind heeled Davard again, but the horse did not run any faster. They were already at maximum speed and wouldn’t be able to gallop like this for too long. He bit back his frustration and slowed Davard to a trot, but they’d ride harder than they ever had before, or all of Avskild could be lost.