Chapter Two

The villagers fathered around, also horrified. Following their gaze, Hel sees a man standing over her, the Baker’s body just an arm’s length away. His skin black as the night sky. Bare feet and bare legged. His chest also bare as snow melts the moment it touches his shoulders. Nothing but a silk cloth around his waste. It’s hemline embroidered with a golden blet that had fine gemstones stitches intricately. Each muscle in his back was shiny, as if nymphs had just oiled him up. His giant golden khat kept Hel from seeing any features of his head.

“Leave now.” His voice ordering even the freshly fallen snow off the trees.

The local blacksmith steps forward a hammer raised above his head. Hel blinked and saw the once standing over , appear behind him with his hands on his wrist. Removing the hammer from his hand, the black man smashed the blacksmith with the hammer. Teeth rising in the air. Sounds of skull crushing echo against the trees. The sound remained more nostalgic for Hel. Taking advantage of the familiar feeling, Hel started to more closely study the man’s face.

It looks like a jackal. Visions of sand covered hills following in front of Hel appeared along with the realization he reigns of Cliupatra. The lands resided over by Ra’s Law.

The villagers watch in terror as the creature strided over to Hel. Pulling harder on her cloak; Hel prayed to be invisible. Choked with fear. She held her breath as he gently scooped her up; cradling her on one biceps his other hand carefully securing her head against his chest. He was so hot to touch. He;s wish transitioned to ripping off the cloak.

He will kill me, Jasmine and Blood Oranges filled her lungs. She could feel his power surging in his aura. He jumped them into the air and ran. He ran fast and South. Passing the villages of Cold and Lone–leaving Odin’s Lands of Ice.

The sun begins to pass as Odin’s Land gets closer to Cliapetra. Only down off the mountain do the lands separate.

North is cold; icy, filled with oceans of snow and glacier ice beaches. When winter sleeps, Summer says hi with witn making the snow cy to walk on. Wildlife is large with thick skin and dense furs. Flowing waters almost look hot and steamy, carrying chunks of ice. Rain, snow, thunder, all weather that falls from the sky.

Cliupatra is hot, filled with wave after wave of sand and wind. Little to no water; unforgiving sun, and hard to believe any season passes with the exception of Spring. Who makes her presence known through monsoons, flooding everything around. There are oases scattered here and there. But where Odin’s lands are cold and winy, Ra’s keep the winds–his powers burning it with all his might. Wildlife here more reptilian. Large animals living deep under ground and small poisonous wildlife thriving on the surface.

At the base of th mountain, the weather is nice and toasty. Grass grows and a river serves as the official border between the two domains. It’s current so strong, only fools trust it.

The man set Hel down under the sky of night. The Southern River loud, rippling over rocks and carrying underbelly with them. Trees gently dance with the wind, bugs sang over the water and the moon’s face watching them closely.

Hel inched towards the water; the man’s eyes never leaving her. As they inched, Hel’s gaze kept on the bigs dancing along the surface of the water. His heat leaving Hel dehydrated and dizzy. Her dress, designed to keep warmth in, left no room for what little heat she does have from escaping. He stepped closer to Hel, his presence carrying the intense heat alongside him. Reaching his black sparkly hands out, the man removed Hel’s hood; her full face exposed.

Hel stared at the ground as her cloak fell around her. Flashes of the monks bodies and faces continue on a reel in her mind.

“Stop,” the man carefully moved even closer to Hel. His overwhelming smell distracted Hel to enough to forget, for a moment. Her whole body shaking as she could feel him remove her clothes around her.

“What are you going to do to me?” Her eyes squeezed shut with the question. The disfiguring melting skein and boils. Her empty eye socket leaving behind muscles and blood and darkness. Even her fleshy side, her right side, is not much to look at with zits and scars appearing and disappearing.

She glanced up quickly to see a scowl across his face. His expression help disappointment. Disappointment and something else. Empathy? Taking a sharp breath, Hel returned back to gaze at her boots in the long blades of grass. She could feel sweat coming from each pore.

“My body Set. I am guardian of Sands,” Set’s voice was firm, but nothing as vehement as before in the Frost Apple Forest. “I am confused. Hel does not already know?”

With the mention of her name, Hel looked up at him. Her eye huge with fear. Set kept staring at her with that same emotion before. Hel shifted her feet.

“You speak if hurt.” Careful not to touch Hel’s body directly, Set reached for her dress and began to rip it. Slowly and intently. Hel did not dare look up from the ground. Heat began to ripple through her body causing blood to rapidly ooze from her middle.

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Set immediately stopped. He lifted her chin to meet eye to eye. Tears ran down her face. “I’m fine,” Hel squeaked, wishing with each word that her tongue would just shrivel up alongside her body. Set’s face softened and cocked to the side. Taking a quick glance at his long ears with one twice before staring back at the ground. Is it rude to stair at someone’s ears? Grabbing Hel’s dress in both fists, she closed her eyes tightly shut as Set tore the dress in half.

Wearing nothing but her boots, Hel begged for death. Her hair blew about in the wind and touched her skin sending flares of pain through her body. She flinched even harder when another rip sound ran into her ear.

Fearful of what happens next, Hel snaps her head forward; staring at Set. Set had torn a piece of his skirt and was now lifting it above Hel and pulling it behind her. FOcused, strong arms and gently movements Set wrapped her with the silk. It’s soft and lightweight, something Hel never experienced in the North.

I still feel so naked. Hel looked at her new outfit, wearing only her Northern boots and this silk wrap. Set stepped back. Wrapping around her shoulders, Set had crossed the silk wrap over her chest in the shape on an X. Around her waist he pulled the wrap twice and tied into a knot in the front. It looked like a dress. Hel’s body still exposed, her neck, chest, stomach, all defying human anatomy.

“Thank… you?” Hel whispered slowly, unsure of what the do or say. Seemingly satisfied, Set turned shoulders and began to walk away towards the River. “Wait!” Hel yelled after him. Set stopped. He reminded her of an obsidian stone. She couldn’t tell if the lights bouncing off his body reflected the stars above, or if he was starlight himself.

Turning on his heels, Set removed his khat and placed it on her head. Covering her face. Even without looking, Hel could feel Set’s power spiking the closer he got to Clipuatra. She fell to the ground, hugging her knees with both arms. Set looked down at her and back over ot the Lands of Sand.

“You here.” Set’s black eyes shining down at her. Including his ears, Set stood taller than Vidar. “Osiris knows.” Tears rising in her face. Set turned on his heels again and disappeared into the air.

Alone.

Hel surveyed around to be sure the word true. Unable to see any other life around her, Hel’s panic began to settle. Fully aware she wasn’t certain what was lurking in the water or the shadows. No villagers. This is much farther South than what Thor and his gang preferred to travel. Since the end of The Great War.

Hel sat on her bottom slipping her boots off. Using her teeth, ignoring the pain, she took her boot into her mouth and pulled the leath down into strips. What does anyone want with the likes of her? Only Odin and Freya really get summoned-and even that was rare. Pulling a sewing needle she keeps tucked between her carpals and metacarpals in her left side, Hel starts to create makeshift shoes that could help her walk in the water over the rocks before unwrapping Set’s silk and tearing that into pieces to make other pieces of wraps. When she felt satisfied her body was wrapped up in the slight silk, she began to work on her destroyed dress into baggy trousers.

She worked through the night. Taking note of the cool breezes wafting off the banks of the river. She searched her brain as she worked for knowledge on Cliupatra: their gods and laws. The Fates refused to share any knowledge or visions with her. Only those of her own memories.

The blood smeared snow and ice. The bracing cold winds from every angle. She shook her head no. Why am I here? Hel awoke in a chilled morning as a craw cawed off in the tops of the trees.

Panic arose and Hel sat up much too fast. The air was certainly brisker than it was yesterday, shadows taking advantage of the slow-moving sun and causing brisk emptiness to gather around anywhere the sun couldn’t see.

Memories of Set encompassed Hel. Feeling too tired to begin a new day. Her fingers blistered from all the sewing. She knew she will be completely healed in a few hours. But all the same, Hel gazed at her fingers. Bloodied, finger nails cracked down to the bit. Hel shifted, scanning the tops of the trees in search for the crow. None could be spotted.

Please Odin, I do not understand what is happening; just please leave me be and I will never return to the North. I will never remind you of my disfigurement or wretchedness. I will not be a willing pawn in Lokie’s twisted games. Please, Oh Mighty Father.

Panicking, Hel shuffles around the river side, searching for the One-Eyed old man.

Circling back to where she fell asleep, the sun rising faster than she had ever experienced, Hel’s eye catches something rather beautiful laid out next to where she had passed out. Linen cloth, as tan as the local tabby keeping away rats, cut and styled into a wide legged trouser. She bent down to pick it up but soon became enthralled with wraps made of something that was pure white. It reminded her of snow.

Looking down at her makeshift clothes, Hel began to feel shame for what she had done. On top of her already hideous appearance, her clothes were literally nothing more than rags of makeshift furs and skins. Next to the bank, soft leather shoes faced the waters.

Quickly removing her rags, she tries to take a step into the water. Loosing her footing over the slick rocks, Hel tumbles into the waters. Crying out in pain as her left side scratches against the rocks. Water floods into her nose and mouth; dusty must floats to the surface burning her eyes.

Crawling away from the waters, Hel can’t help but look down at the skin and bone fragments being scraped off her body. Her blond hair now sticking to her. Coughing, trying to catch her breath, Hel wraps both arms around her knees and sobs. The fates will not allow her to die. The Stars seem to enjoy her suffering. She is useless. Odin was right to run his right eye to her. She does not even have consistent visions; nor visions not based on herself. Shoe holds not skill-even with constant practice of sewing, her skill is not much better than a clumsy child’s.

Everyone news purse to feel happiness; why can’t she find her’s?