Gan flips the pages of the book in his hand. It is traditionally made compared to the more popular form of text that can be read through the ComCrystal. The cover is made of sheepskin, the pages made of thin and fine paper. Production of such books has slowed due to the resources and costs needed, therefore the Crystallized text has become more common.

Perhaps Gan is a traditionalist. He is fond of the physical book’s texture, the crisp scent of the paper, the artistic script of the writing. As a child, Gan had wanted to be a writer, or even just a scribe. He enjoys writing and his mentors had humoured his fascination and interest for it with pens, inks and quills.

Blaer and Heithr had gifted him with a calligraphy set just last year. Gan had been so happy, he dragged them to one of the finer restaurants in the city. The two of them had protested hard, knowing how costly it was, but Gan had been equally stubborn to pay for their meals that he even threatened them with the cold shoulder until they gave in. He hadn’t minded having to work harder for the next two weeks to earn back what they had spent that night.

Gan does odd jobs for a living. He does work as a librarian, a writer of independent scholarly articles or fictional stories, and even helps out cleaning at the temples. He likes to keep himself busy and his mind active, but at the same time, he can’t focus on one thing for too long except for when he reads or writes. Blaer does music and poetry for both work and passion. He’d play instruments for stage plays, writes music for the songstresses and sometimes busks at the city centre to pass the time. He sometimes relays Gan’s stories in poetry or song form, and those are popular with the children.

Meanwhile Heithr is the one who has a stable job amongst them and is Blaer’s beloved. They have been together since two winters ago, and the both of them have been joined at the hip since then. Though Heithr was apprehensive of Gan initially, all three of them have become close enough to be family, including Heithr’s father. Blaer and Gan would also sometimes help Heithr and his father out at their apothecary, the only remaining legacy of Heithr’s mother. He is the youngest among the three, but is arguably the most mature and responsible, albeit he displays a childish streak at times. Both of them are complete opposites; Blaer is night-skinned with short, bluish-black hair, his features square and masculine, while Heithr is morn-skinned with long and fine platinum hair paired with soft, effeminate features. Yet, they fit each other perfectly in Gan’s eyes.

When there is not much work for him, Gan doesn’t stay idle, choosing to spend his time reading books or write. The book that he is reading at the moment is the third and latest updated edition of the discoveries in the Vanir Ruins. Gan has read the previous two editions over his childhood, immediately choosing books on the subject after visits from his Friend.

There are several Vaniran ruins throughout Firarheim, but a concentration of them can be found in the central deserts in Solveig. The vast desert is simply named the ‘Vanir Desert Ruins’, where numerous archaeological sites are located at. Gan’s eyes scan the words across the pages, eager to learn more.

The Vanir are the ancient and original race of Menn. As they are the direct creation of the gods, they hold a lot of magic, wisdom and longevity compared to Menn of current times. They served the gods and sent offerings to them, and when they died, they also devote their bodies to the gods as well. The book goes on to describe what possible steps the funeral rituals entail, and he can see similarities of traditions back then and now. Discoveries of extremely well kept tombs have been found buried deep under the desert, with intact clothing, jewelry and even decorated hair and painted nails. However, there are no records of names with them, so it is unknown of their identity or status, so most content written in books are mere speculation.

The latest site that the chroniclers have discovered is a shrine although no one has been able to decipher who it is dedicated to. The book is written by the Imperial Chronicler’s assistant who tails the Chronicler’s every step and notes down every discovery. The shrine is made of stone and glass, an unrecognisable figure set in the middle and two four-legged beasts circling around it. A detailed illustration of the shrine is printed on a page. Gan stares at the picture, attempting to spot anything that he might know about but the drawing itself is unclear. All he can tell is that the two canine-like beasts circling the figure are most likely dogs or wolves. There are scripts carved into the stone at the base, and the chroniclers have presumed it to be written in the old Vanir language Vinroeda. Unfortunately, the current known vocabulary of the language is short and there hasn’t been a proper translation for most of the found texts yet.

Gan wishes he is able to see these sites for himself. He wants to see and feel the atmosphere, touch the broken stones and read the ingrained magic that has faded from their surface. There must be something that Menn can discover from these locations that the chroniclers have not discovered and are taking a painstakingly slow pace to fully study. Gan’s memory has always been exceptionally good, so he hates the feeling of having a missing memory, the intangible sensation having plagued him his whole life.

With a heavy sigh, Gan closes his book. He hears footsteps and the crunching of grass from behind him. Blaer sits beside Gan on the rock by the shore. In his hand is a black painted lyre with blue and gold decorations. The waters of Skali lake is clear as crystal. No matter the time of day, it presents a beautiful sight with its surface sparkling from the reflection of the sun.

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“What are you sighing about?” Blaer asks, folding his legs under him. Gan shrugs, not offering an answer. The silence continues for a moment, both of them staring at the water. Blaer has always been understanding and patient of Gan’s lack of vocal responses. Eventually, Gan speaks, slow and soft.

“Have you thought... about leaving Isfridr or Hafgrimr?”

Blaer looks at him with a puzzled expression but thinks about it. “Hm, I guess, yeah? I’d love to take a holiday to south Solveig. Heard it’s warm and toasty there… Are you interested?” Blaer grins, his curiosity piqued.

“Yes,” Gan replies simply. “I want to see the Vanir ruins.”

“Oh,” Blaer isn’t as surprised as Gan thought he would be. “Is that place even open for visitors?”

“No…” Gan’s face fell. His eyes stare at his feet. Then, “Heard the University is a tourist attraction.”

“Oh yeah! And they have skaldic courses there!” Blaer adds excitedly. “There’s that guy… he’s both a poet and a historian, what’s his name… I think he’s married to the Eldian Court’s Magus.”

“Bragi Gunnlodson?” Gan suggests. “I didn’t think you’d know about him.”

“Are you kidding? He’s published some poetry under another name, but they’re really good! I’ve tried performing some of them,” Blaer replies with a broad smile, strumming the strings of the lyre. “Heithr likes some of them too, though he says it’s only because I performed it.”

Gan snorts but smiles anyway. Heithr spoils Blaer with compliments a little too much sometimes, but both of them are still love smitten even after two years.

“So, when do you want to go? I’m not sure if we can afford it at the moment,” Blaer says remorsefully, patting at his pockets. While both of them are working and living under a small house together, the costs of living in Isfridr is high, and their odd jobs can only earn them so much. Especially for Blaer, who enjoys splurging on his loved ones, tend to have the lightest wallet by the end of each month. Gan shakes his head and assures him.

“I have savings, we can go,” he says. “But we’d probably have to camp outdoors mostly.”

“Wait, since when did you have savings?”

“I made savings accounts for both of us in case of emergencies,” Gan says. Blaer is terrible with money. His best friend smiles sheepishly, but it’s clear he’s touched. Gan has always looked out for his well-being.

“Oh. That’s really sweet.”

“You’re welcome.”

Blaer thinks for a moment, then asks, “Can Heithr come along?”

Gan’s answer is immediate, and he responds with an amused smile, “If he wants to.”

“Thanks, Ma!” Blaer grins again as Gan huffs at the name. He had expected the question since the both of them is inseparable, but Heithr has more responsibilities than them. Ultimately it would be up to the young man and they’d have to respect his father’s decision too.

They sink back to a comfortable silence, both of them staring out at the lake. Gan’s eyes stray downward to his feet, swinging them idly. It seems like Blaer realizes that Gan has something on his mind. After being by each others’ side growing up together at the orphanage, Blaer knows Gan tends to stare at his feet when he does. The redhead would often withdraw and clam up if anyone presses him to speak, so Blaer has learned to be patient and follow his pace. Eventually, Gan speaks up.

“Blaer, do you… really believe the stories I tell you?”

“Stories? The ones you write?”

“No, the ones I tell you. Since we were kids,” Gan meets Blaer’s eyes. The orange of his irises gleam in the sunlight, like dark suns.

“Yes,” Blaer says with no hesitance. “I’ve always believed you. It just made sense to me.”

“I was a child. I could be making it up,” Gan retorts doubtfully.

“I know you’re really smart. You’re a genius. But you’re too good to lie, and the way you told your stories…” Blaer smiles as he reminisced. “It was like you really believed them. Sometimes, I would think that you were there when they all happened.”

“That doesn’t make them real,” Gan responds with a slight furrow of his brow.

“I know… but…” Blaer sighs and scratches the back of his head, appearing to have some difficulty trying to explain. Eventually, he shrugs. “I just believe you.”

A short silence hangs over them. Gan still seems to have a hard time believing him. “Is it really that simple?” Gan asks, his expression softening. He feels a little strange to receive such faith from someone.

“Of course! You’re my brother, Gan. No matter what, I’ll back you up. Heithr can be mean with his words, but he believes in you too. Remember that,” Blaer tells him with a serious expression that Gan hadn’t expected. It makes Gan a little embarrassed. He laughs softly, earning a pleased grin from his best friend.

“...Thanks, Kvasir.”

Blaer grimaces and punches him lightly in the shoulder. “Ugh, I told you not to call me that! I’m gonna be mad if you keep doing that,” Blaer grumbles. Gan shows off a rare, playful grin.

“Right, sorry. It’s just fun to see you get mad sometimes. You grin too much,” Gan teases. The other rolls his eyes and slaps Gan’s shoulder again.

“Sure, whatever,” Blaer huffs, trying to hide his smile and pulls them up to their feet. “Come on, Mr. Bjarga invited us over for dinner. Heithr’s cooking.”