Orn startled awake. He saw his room was still dark.

“Orn, we need to leave,” said Briga with urgency.

“What’s wrong? Where are we going?” Orn asked as he rose from within his blankets and started dressing.

“No, not your tunic. You will need your padded undershirt and your armour. Remember our discussion about prayers, and how I filter them?”

“Vaguely, but-”

“Good. I just received a prayer that I must answer, and to do that, I will need your help.”

“Of course. What do you need me to do?”

“Do not agree so readily, my love. There is risk involved.”

“When has that ever been an issue? Just tell me what I must do.”

“We will be meeting an original god of your world. One for whose mark your father and your brother carry within them.”

“I don’t understand. What mark?”

“The god, Bijáš, marked a distant ancestor on your father’s side. He is the Bear-God of the Kula people. By rights, He should be among your pantheon of gods, but I digress. I must take you to him.”

“How do you mean ‘marked’?” asked Orn, his brows knit into a dubious expression.

“We do not have time for this,” said Briga, a worried frown creasing her brow.

“Just give me the gist of it.”

Briga eyed him for a couple of seconds and then relented. “Fine, fine. Centuries ago, an ancestor of your father’s was attacked by one of Bijáš’ blessed bears. Because your people carry the souls of my father’s faithful from his old world, the blessing manifested differently. It is incomplete. It also meant that those of your father’s ancestor’s blood line manifesting Bijáš’ blessing cannot receive ours.”

Orn pondered for a few seconds, then said, “So that is why my mother, and I can use elements, while Erik and my father can’t. It makes a bit more sense now. Your father told me that Erik and my father have leggumfreppy.”

Briga tilted her head, a confused look on her face. Then her eyes widened, as she clasped a hand over her mouth and doubled over, struggling to stifle her laughter.

Orn frowned, as he exhaled through flared nostrils. Affronted, he asked, “What?”

After several moments, Briga recovered, and said, “You mean lycanthropy, don’t you?”

Orn scowled at her.

Briga embraced him and said, “I love you Orn. Please, don’t be grumpy. That aside, yes, they have a kind of incomplete variant of that condition. We’ll have totable this discussion for the moment. Now, we will need your shield,” she said as released Orn from her embrace, and moved toward the door.

Orn shrugged into his armour, and said to Briga, “Wait! Can you at least help me with these laces?”

“You will also need your shield,” she said as she moved toward the door.

Orn shrugged into his armour, and said to Briga, “Wait! Can you at least help me with these laces?”

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“Oh. Yes, of course, dear.”

Once Briga laced his armour, they headed to the armoury to collect his shield.

The doorway they had just entered had changed. What once led from the armoury to a corridor within Jarl Sigtrin’s keep, now led to a flat, snow blanketed land that seemed to be in perpetual twilight.

The pair stepped through, and Orn cursed as the sudden plummet in temperature assaulted his senses. He immediately focussed on maintaining a pocket of air around Briga and himself, heating it to the point of being barely tolerable.

“Oh, that is fine! Thank you dear,” Briga cooed happily. “While I am not susceptible to being frozen, it is still most uncomfortable here.”

“All part of the service, madam,” Orn replied with a florid bow.

Briga laughed delightedly as she held onto one of his arms. She then pointed towards the sky.

Orn followed her finger with his eyes and gasped in wonder as he beheld the multihued waves of light undulating across the heavens.

“Is it not amazing how even in the most desolate and inhospitable places, one still find’s beauty that can still one’s breath?” asked Briga. “I am glad the winds were calm this night, so you could behold this wonder.”

The incredible display captivated Orn. Then he felt, more than heard, a deep resonant voice reverberating through him.

“Why come you here?” the booming voice asked in a demanding tone.

Orn was so startled by the sudden sound, he almost lost his heated air pocket.

Briga, unfazed, chided, “Really, Bijáš? Has it been so long without guests, you have forgotten how to treat them?”

“Mm. Briga, it has been long since I have seen you,” the voice responded.

Orn saw movement in the distance. Gradually, it resolved itself into a being that seemed to amble along, and yet increased in size as though it approached at speed.

As Bijáš drew closer, Orn could see that he was immense. His face had vague traces of humanity, overshadowed by a bestial quality, and his nose and mouth were more like a muzzle. The pure white hair and shaggy brows were a stark contrast to His dark, dusky-grey skin. His body was the shape of a thickset, muscular man with excessive body hair, and His concession to modesty was in the form of a dull red loin cloth held in place by a leather thong.

The ancient god regarded Orn with his deep, burning red eyes. He asked Briga, “Who is this cub, and why is it here?”

Bijáš was reaching forward with a slow, clawed hand, index finger extended toward Orn, when he exclaimed and jerked his hand back. “This one has power!” The bear god’s slight belligerence shifted into curiosity.

“This one is destined to be mine, Bijáš.”

The giant god’s eyes narrowed as he peered at Orn, and stated, “I shall test him.”

Orn gasped as his knees buckled. He struggled to remain standing, as he felt his mind probed by a mind that, while not as complex, was as vast and timeless as Everrin’s.

“Hm, he has strength,” Bijáš said to himself, as he tapped his lip in thought. “I also sense the slightest hint of myself in him. Most strange.”

“Well, that is easy to explain,” Briga said as she held onto Orn, and looked him over to ensure he was unhurt. “His father’s family are bear-blessed, as is his brother.”

“Ah, that is well. But why are you here, Briga? You do not visit me, so you are here for something. What is it?” Bijáš’ immense face drew closer to the pair.

“You are aware of the incursions of the dark ones?” asked Briga.

“Outside of my children, I care not for the doings of the man-things, for man-things are the least of my children.”

“Bijáš, these dark ones have absorbed all the life in their universe, and now they seek to do the same here. They would leave our world a barren husk, and then move on to repeat the process until our entire universe becomes as they have made theirs.”

“I am glad you do not come often. You talk too many words. Go, I care not for the doings of man-things.”

“But they will consume everything! People, animals, plants, all life! From the immense all the way down to the tiniest speck; they will leave nothing! You must take an interest!” Briga pleaded.

“What would you have of me?” Bijáš asked plaintively, His shaggy brows furrowed. His mouth pulled into a slight grimace, as he grappled with the information Briga had imparted. For Bijáš was an uncomplicated god, a force of nature.

Briga felt Orn give her hand a slight squeeze. As she looked at him, understanding his expression, she inclined her head towards the immense god.

Orn cleared his throat and said, “Bijáš, Bear-God, and spirit of the wild north. Guard well your man-children, for the dark ones work through the tainted. Your children are pure, but the dark ones corrupt all that they touch.”

The immense god closed his eyes, and Orn felt the waves of thought spreading out, gentle, inquiring. He would not have felt it, but for being near its epicentre.

Suddenly, the god’s face contorted into a scowl, as a deep, tearing snarl sounded from his throat. His red eyes flashed open, as he bellowed in anguish, “MY CHILDREN STRAY! I WILL PUNISH THEM! ALL MY MAN-CHILDREN, I WILL DESTROY!”

Orn and Briga covered their ears, as the power and volume of that voice almost drove them to their knees. Bijáš lifted His face to the sky and unleashed a thunderous, enraged roar.