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HEIMDALLR
9. ELGR

9. ELGR

I had already avoided the events of the past and changed outcomes: instead of burning a year of his life to beat Heimdallr, Elgr saw my studying magic as a sign that I was weaker. He never challenged my to duel like he did Heimdallr... and as such, he never truly suffered a significant loss.

That is, until recently: he was beaten by a bandit lord plaguing the outskirts of the Hold in a prolonged battle that nearly got him captured. The gods didn't see it as breaking the order of things when he drew his power out for that fight, but the result was exhausting him and causing his wounds from training with our eldest brother to worsen.

His resting had almost finished, though, which is why I had to act now if I wanted to bring Elgr into the fold. Although he has a large amount of pride, his lack of conflict with Heimdallr in his earlier years had left him far less jaded and hostile. That pride also meant he respected the ability I had with Gungnir; although its curse wasn't widespread, he had sat in for a few of my sparring sessions with Soini over the years and seen the lengths I went through to acquire basic mastery over the weapon.

The courtyard... feels strangely quiet these days. My sisters are really the only ones I meet with besides Soini, but their recent training had them far too busy to hang around relaxing in the courtyard. Tell-tale signs of Gungnir striking the ground marked sections of it that still needed repairing, but another section was set aside for Elgr.

Elgr had grown to about my height: he was just under six feet but had a leaner frame than me that better accommodated his fighting style's speed. The training dummy in front of him had many deep cuts from his cross-slashing style, each motion he makes effectively as short as he can make it.

In the book, Elgr hadn't stayed... but now that he hadn't become an outcast, it let me appreciate just how strong he could've been. I didn't want Heimdallr to have many strong companions because he was a main character, but Elgr was one I had briefly considered and it was obvious this world took into account my concept notes about his potential.

His training swings halt as I approach, his head turning just enough to get a glimpse before he focuses back on the target. He even resumes the swings, albeit at a slow pace focusing on accuracy near the neck.

"Brother," he says, pausing between each swing. "What is it?"

"I wanted to talk to you about my decision to adventure beyond the Hold."

He laughs, not even looking my way but his obvious disbelief painting his tone. "You? Leave? You going to a bakery or something?"

I sigh, crossing my arms. "I was thinking of avenging you, actually."

That gets the effect I want: Elgr stops his training swings, lowers his swords, and finally turns to look back at me over his shoulder. The angered and pissed off look of someone getting challenged is obvious in his features.

"You? Avenge me? You haven't even killed anyone!"

"I know," I answer, unwavering at the challenge. "But it's only right that someone who sullied my brother pays for it, don't you think?"

"Half-brother."

The accents he gives the "half" part of it makes me all-too-keenly aware of how below him I must look. Unlike my brothers who had gifts in fighting, I had forsaken that for an education in magic. It was obvious how weak I would look to them, especially since each of them trained years to become even close to Dagr's match. Calling us brothers when we had such different upbringings and our mothers each had different outlooks on strength only aggravated him.

But that's all within expectations: I want Elgr mad... and I want him to challenge our family bond so I can reinforce it. I uncross my arms and grab the strap I use to carry Gungnir, pulling the spear down from my back with a confident smirk.

"Well, brother, I think you belittle me too much. The last time we sparred, I recall Geir stepping in to stop us. But he's not here now... maybe we should see just how wide the gap is between us?"

Elgr turns, his anger turning into disbelief; he smirks back at me and sets his right hand's blade on his shoulder.

"Yeah, you know what? Why not? My back finally feels normal... so why don't we see just how strong the owner of Gungnir is?"

I step back and put distance between us, shifting my grip to hold the strap flat to the shaft of the weapon and grabbing it just beneath the tip. Compared to the first time I wielded the weapon, my size was far better suited to Gungnir; it was now shorter than I was and fit my grip with ease. Adjustments over the years had kept the weapon narrowing into the perfect fit for me. Even the weight had been rebalanced with decorative rings, allowing me to shift them as I saw fit to keep my control over the weapon firmly where I needed it to be.

"Since we fight so rarely... why don't I take the first move?"

Elgr laughs and takes up his offensive stance: his swords on either side and in a low carry.

"Fine. But if you miss, you'll regret it."

Gungnir.

Despite how big Elgr talks, he sees the weapon's silver shimmer to life and the tile of the courtyard beneath me kick off a small layer of dust. The effect of beckoning Gungnir had grown stronger over the years... and now just mentioning its name to awaken the weapon gave off enough magical power to emulate action movies and their "rings of dust" around me. It was a telltale sign I was going to use the weapon, but it only happened when I began using it: after the first activation, the power was steady within the weapon and its curse didn't fluctuate enough to kick dust off.

The other side-effect, though, was an intense rumble it sent through my body. I never imagined that the durability Heimdallr had would be useful for enduring this power, but it was a token of just how lucky I was to get him as my new life's body.

Strike.

I surge forward at the exact moment Gungnir heeds my call, running with the weapon until we reach strike distance of Elgr. He shifts his stance in an instant, raising both swords into a defensive parrying posture.

Strike!

The spear's tip shifts upward at a new target: his chest. My use of Gungnir had evolved over the years: I could pick a general target for motion and central-focused stabs, but a follow-up command lets me shift into a different attack.

Elgr sees it coming with relative ease; he parries the strike and Gungnir off-course with as much might as he can muster. Unlike Soini who had experience, most of my siblings knew the easiest way to face me and Gungnir's curse was to overpower it. Whilst I lacked the strength they had, their physical prowess easily surpassed any huskarl even amongst the weaker ones like Elgr. He quickly follows-up with a counter swing at my stomach, but I twist the shaft of Gungnir and knock it off-course.

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My immediate reaction is to get distance, but the method I do it with is something only I can do: I cast Pulse on myself. My durable body withstands the magic and shoves me away from Elgr as he recovers his stance, his swing cutting the air as I slide multiple feet backwards.

"Magic?" His look of disbelief is momentary, realizing that I used it on myself. "You'd actually hurt yourself to win in a fight, Heimdallr?"

The worst of the pain is already fading, but he's not wrong: if not for Heimdallr's incredible durability, a tactic like this wouldn't be possible. I could use Pulse on myself while using Control, allowing me to minimize damage but keep the force impact high. The little damage remaining wasn't anything to sneeze at, but it was more like getting shoved than struck by something.

"I can't belittle my brother, can I?"

Harping on the word to anger him is obvious and he ignores it, charging me with a calm but unpleasant scowl. This time, he puts me on the defensive: I twist Gungnir and use the lower end of the shaft, the upper-end, and even the blade to parry his storm of blows. Compared to the speed Soini attacks with, it's easy to follow his strikes... but each one hits just as hard or harder than the huskarl's depending on the angle of attack. The majority of the attacks are simple swings: long motion attacks. These are the ones that hit lightly.

But the troublesome ones that make me shake trying to keep Gungnir in hand are his hacking strikes. The shorter his motion is, the more power it maintains: his long swings were accurate, but his shorter ones were like cannon shots trying to break my defense. For every four swings he makes, he throws a hack in that gives him an opening to repeat the cycle. Against someone weaker, this sort of tactic was precisely how Elgr had built a reputation already for combat prowess.

But the problem is his weapons can't keep up: his fighting style uses two paired blades, shortswords that are balanced for quick strikes. Unfortunately, the heirs of Dagr are too strong for their own good and normal weapons like his just couldn't compete. Elgr was one of the brothers whom Dagr deemed unworthy of a unique weapon, but that was because Elgr's speed was almost on parity with his strength. It would be unfair in the battle of inheritance if one of them acquired a weapon that inherently made them too strong.

Gungnir alone was only allowed because Heimdallr was the one who chose it. In the books, Brokkr had hidden the weapon away but it still ultimately found its way into enemy hands. Choosing it not only spared me Heimdallr's fate against it, but it also gave me a weapon that let me close the gap with the naturally gifted siblings like Elgr. Even if I couldn't physically keep up with him, using Gungnir could allow me to still parry his fastest strikes as long as I knew they were coming.

"Not bad," he laughs mid-flurry, finally forcing me into a stalemate with a hard crash of his blades into Gungnir's shaft. One of the shortswords cracks but he doesn't seem the slightest phased. "For a scroll-reading runt!"

In the corner of my eye, I can see that we have our first spectators: Geir and Soini arrive with a handful of the huskarls, the familiar and now-collected Gullveig at the front of the entourage.

"Yeah, I guess so!"

He kicks outward and I catch the strike with the length of the shaft between my hands, this time sliding backwards from the power of his strike rather than pulse.

"You called 'em here to see you lose?"

He drops the damaged sword, reaching to a bandolier of blades across his chest. In its place, he draws out a five inch-long dagger with a blade almost as wide as the sword. The real reason for his nickname was starting to come out: the longer he fought, the more blades he drew. Battlefields where Elgr fought were littered with the remains of blades he wielded.

"No."

"Then why?"

I smile and take back my posture from before... but this time I keep Gungnir angled high rather than mid-level.

"Because I want them to see what it's like... when I make Elgr acknowledge me as his brother instead of just a half-brother runt who spends all day reading."

This time the provocation gets under his skin, making Elgr scoff and roll his shoulders. "Yeah? And you think you're going to do it? You can't match me with Gungnir now matter how strong it is. I'm faster and stronger than you in every way."

Many of the huskarl laugh and chatter amongst themselves in agreement, but Soini reaches for his sword at the insult towards me. Geir grabs his wrist, the elderly huskarl merely smiling over at the two of us.

"My lords, we have gathered here because of the Magician. Lady Gullveig has granted permission to Lord Heimdallr to leave the Hold as he wishes from this day forward. Us being here is because we simply want to see the results of this sparring."

Elgr turns and looks at them, but in particular at Geir with disdain.

"Really? You're just here to watch him lose?"

Gullveig, however, is the one who answers with her gaze settling on Elgr.

"No. I am here to ensure neither of you die when he tries to win."

This statement unnerves Elgr and actually ruins my surprise. He turns his head just in-time to quickly ready his guard and stop my incoming strike.

Gungnir, today... I grant you a new command.

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"Gungnir... listens to you?"

Gullveig doesn't seem to believe me, but I have no reason to lie to her. I've used the weapon for a year... and I can feel it: Gungnir is alive. I knew it was a cursed weapon from my writing, but when I wrote it I hadn't established the laws of magical weaponry back then. Given it was a plot device weapon meant to appear once, I hadn't even considered it possible that Gungnir actually followed the laws.

Any weapon that has magic enchanted into it gains sentience. And although it was a curse, Gungnir still had magic enchanted into it as a result of it. It was a powerful spear but it had nothing besides the curse in its initial forging and the curse was so simple that I didn't think it through.

But Gungnir was listening to me each time I beckoned it forward. Each time I put conviction into my thoughts of using Strike, it reacted accordingly.

"Master, I haven't been able to read much on what magical weapons can do... but if Gungnir is truly listening to me... could I teach it new commands besides Strike?"

Despite this revelation, I'm at least happy to see she doesn't have a new streak of silver in her hair. I'd hate to keep ruining her youthful visage like that.

"It is possible," she answers. "But... its curse is to never fail an order. Strike is the means you use to control it, so a new command may result in the weapon not listening to you."

"So I shouldn't teach it anything new?"

The Magician sighs, albeit not changing much facially to betray whether it was from boredom, anxiety, or growing tired of the off-topic questions. It most likely is the latter since she wants to get back to work on my magical training, though.

"I never said that. You are the master of Gungnir, after all. But any new command should be considered in-full with how its curse works."

She made a good point. I'd have a long time to think about it anyway since it's not something I could just pop out whenever. If I could save it for as long as possible, that'd be for the best. Maybe I could use it during the Inheritance War, too...

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Gungnir: Glow.

The spear sucks the mana from his body... and in-turn, it uses his unique mana to cast the spell exactly as I would: Svalinn's Glow.

The weapon lacks oxygen to take, allowing me to channel far more of mana than I would when casting it myself. Gungnir's tip erupts the starbursting light along its silvered grooves, the steel enduring the rays of light and making the already-bright light glow that much more. In seconds, the entire courtyard is blinding beyond means, forcing him to close his eyes along with everyone else.

It was so intense that none of them could see... but he still could imagine Elgr as he had been.

Now... strike.

The weapon surges forward, forcing him to hold on and charge with it. He stumbles and the weapon slips its angle, the brilliant light bursting and fading the instant he feels its steel bite into a target.

"Fuck!"

Elgr's cursing makes him open his eyes, seeing the still-reeling sight of his half-brother twisting away from the spear's tip. It had struck him near the waist after its deviation from his grip, but it proved the theory I had when devising this idea. Gungnir can channel my magic just like any other magical weapon.

I step back and quickly swing the spear, smacking Elgr's shoulder and sending him tumbling away. He rolls with the impact and quickly jumps back to his feet mid-tumble, but even now his shaken pride is hesitating on a counter-attack. After all, Elgr hadn't fought a spellsword yet... much less one who could strike even while blinded.

Right now is my best chance at beating Elgr. In front of all the huskarl, I showed the potential of Dagr's least prodigal son and the only one who'd been lacking in drawing out the worldly magic of the family line so far. In time I may still awaken my father's magic... but for now, my version of Heimdallr had begun to walk a road that the original telling couldn't even comprehend.

I am the product of Gullveig's education and talent with the will of Dagr... and I won't fail my promise to her, Gef, or anyone. This life is mine now. Gungnir raises in my grip, challenging Elgr at the same time my smirk grows.

"Don't hate me too much," I taunt, knowing that I had the upperhand. "Brother."

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