by Farah Cook
“You’re reborn, Nora,” whispers Magnus. “Welcome to our world.” I feel his warm hands against my waist, while Tove and Tene stand behind me smiling delicately and I hear their voices inside my head.
Welcome! Welcome protector of the Goth Empire, Nora Hunt.
9
MINA HELPS ME to get dressed. Her curious eyes follow me closely. Absentminded I glue together pieces from my memory. No, I haven’t forgotten Frederick, how could I? He’s not easily forgotten. His name remains a whisper in the dark.
Frederick’s split personality and condescension – he always knew who he was and what he wanted to become. Along came the girl from the East. Perhaps he didn’t expect us to be enemies and was relying on my alliance. Why would he do that?
Mina holds a large silver needle and white thread. She buries it inside my cloak making small fixes, biting off unnecessary threads. When her small fingers crawl inside my robe I push her hand away.
“Must fix,” she continues. Diligently her hand swirls around my cloak – white and shiny in the sunlight streaming into the tower room. “Nora look nice. You change hair?” she asks.
“No.”
“Different. Not like before.”
“I know.”
“But you no change.”
“No.” She stops and bites the thread loose with her teeth and jumps down from the stool. Her feet are big and wide, clomping against the glass floor. “Where were you before this?”
“Mina in north wing before.” I furrow my eyebrows and squat down to reach her at eye level.
“What is it like?” My voice is soft, but my heart hard. I rest my hand on the floor to keep my balance. I imagine his face. Beautiful and elongated. The ocean is visible in his deep-set and crystal-blue eyes. Bouffant and golden-blond hair – the tan he faked to fit in. His skin nothing but porcelain pale. He has changed, but my memory of him is the same. I hold on to the stinging pain in my eyes – no tears. I will not cry for Frederick.
“Dark side of tower. No light only black clouds outside,” Mina says. I sink into the floor. The cloak is spread out like eagle wings.
“Did you serve…”
“Frederick Dahl – no. Rognvald Dynasty leader no like Mina.” My silent astonishment is no surprise. “He no like nobody.”
Frederick is eccentric and does like to keep to himself. His withdrawn attitude is cold. Brutally arrogant, he’d somehow always get what he wanted, and things did seem to come too easily for him. Through powers of manipulation the only thing he didn’t get was me.
“Mina, carry this message—” I scribble something on a piece of paper and fold it crisply together. “And give it to Frederick Dahl.”
“North tower forbidden for Jarl Raiders.”
“Which is why I need you to get this message to the Rognvald Dynasty leader. Can you do that for me Mina?”
“Nora not afraid?”
“No,” I say, “give him this message and then get out of there fast.” She takes the slip of paper from my hand and walks out. By the Norse gods, I hope it works, and if it does – it will surprise everyone. Never in the history of dynasties has Jarl Raiders worked with Rognvald Raiders. Am I mad to think this is a possibility? This could cost me everything.
Helena will declare me insane and Magnus will strip away all my rights and titles and send me back to the East, with a half-baked memory. My life will be worse than a drifter. But if I succeed, everything could change.
I pace the floor nervously and wait for Mina to return. She brings back a message from Frederick. I take the paper pressed into her palm and unfold it. It’s blank – why is the paper blank?
“He eat note.”
“Who? Frederick ate my note to him?”
“He say nothing.”
“I don’t understand why would he give you a blank note?”
“No blank. black magic.” She holds the paper in the air against the light and the letters begin to appear. Mina is smarter than what I thought.
“Common Grounds? What does that mean?”
Mina points outside, and my heart skips a beat. Why would Frederick want to meet me outside the towers? I’d rather be caught red-handed in the towers meeting with Frederick. Outside it’s dangerous if someone sees us. I know I must see him so I get changed and take the keys to my motorcycle.
“Nora must wear raider clothes.”
“Not out there. I don’t want anyone to know who I am.”
I slip out through the back lift, and keep my head down. This is no time for chatting or curious eyes questioning me – just hours before the Jarl Raiders will gather at the assembly and Magnus will announce my leadership. He will also step back as leader to commit to his royal duties.
The south side of the tower is secluded from the north wing, with tight security. The non-dynasty members may enter freely around the towers. Mina is small and quirky and no one would suspect her entry into the north tower to be anything unusual, especially since she’s served the Rognvald Dynasty in the past.
The only way to see Frederick is on the Common Grounds – a deprived area across from the Statue of Capitalism, which stands tall in the waters. It’s large and stretches toward the sky, three hundred feet tall, holding a glittering pot of gold. The statue is the most magnificent symbol of the West division’s wealth and prosperity.
The navigation in my motorcycle brings up a map of the City of Skies’ outer districts. The Common Grounds is a distance away. I jump onto my motorcycle, and cover my head with the helmet. It’s the early hours of the morning and as I ride through the dead streets there is no sunshine, no clouds. The streets are overshadowed by skyscrapers, pointy towers and shiny glass buildings. The City of Skies is beautiful. The pavements are clean, the trees neatly arranged in rows. There are hardly any people in sight.
Like a dream, I ride through the heart of the futuristic city. Countless glowing buildings poke through the air, high-rise towers wrapped in neon. Up close the city is nothing but a stream of light.
When I take a turning, the city changes in character – dark alleys, gloomy light. No colorful shades just endless tall and filthy buildings stacked up without an end reaching the sky. The area is deprived and damp. There’s no electricity – skinny cats and dogs search the large square garbage bins. The air is cold. Rays of sunshine don’t penetrate this end of the city.
Before reaching an avenue with overflowing garbage cans, the washed-out street called There and Back Again merges into an alley with little light from the streetlamps. The wrecked brick wall in front of me is covered in graffiti with warnings of death and danger and reads, “The gods have left us” in foggy letters. The smell of rusty metal and salt floats on the air, and the poverty captured between cement walls shows.
A group of men in tattered clothes bundled up against the cold in layers of stinking robes stand around a large barrel with smoke rising from a few sorry embers, and faces hide in the dark as they shudder through a blast of frigid air in a battle to stave off the cold.
Other men and women seek refuge under the bridge with fast-moving trains from above and are stealing pockets of warmth from the steam grates. Filthy hands anxiously go through piled-up trash, and a man’s hand reaches out toward me when I slow down.
“Help me,” he says, blinking in the dark. Sadness is marked around his gray eyes, and in despair he trembles on the wet ground. “Please, help me.” I get off the motorcycle and squat down to pull him up. The smell of excrement is hideous, and he’s breathing heavily in a desperate attempt to bring oxygen to his shrinking body. I can feel his heartbeat slowing down, as his breathing stops, but there’s still desperate hope in his old eyes as he gets to his feet.
I’m getting a feel of my new senses and noticing things I never have before. Poverty in the City of Skies is a gruesome reality. Going on behind the tall Towers of Swords, I don’t see this and it’s frightening.
“I’m sorry,” I say, destroying his hope. “But I can’t help you.” I release his hand from my arm
, hardening my face to avoid tears from welling. My thoughts question the message on the wall. Why did the gods leave us?
The Common Grounds is a gray gated area, deserted and ghostly. The trees carry dark leaves and rotten fruit. The smell of the sea stings my nostrils. The ground is moist and soft, and my boots sink into the grass.
I sense he’s close when the wind blows in my direction carrying his scent. Dark and murky Frederick has been knighted by his own father in a ceremony I have no regrets to have missed.
There’s no light on Frederick’s face and his heart feels cold and sealed. His face wrapped in anger. My new heightened senses detect his emotions in rage. When Frederick’s hand touches my back, the world tree Yggdrasil moves her branches to warn me and I turn to face him.
The blue ocean in his eyes is now a black sea and his face a pale opera mask. Why has he brought me to this forsaken place? To remind me what the world he lives in? a world of darkness where light is a curse and love is forbidden.
“Now you suddenly want an alliance with the Rognvald Dynasty?” he demands. There’s anger and hatred in his voice. I hear his heart racing inside his chest. Does he hear my heart yearning for his? A little voice inside my head tells me to run away, but, how can I? I’m face to face with the boy I am in love with.
“Frederick, I think at heart we both want the same thing.”
“It took you a while to realize this?” he sneers.
“Better late than never,” I say
“Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to deceive me?” His face is calm.
“A Judith would never do that,” I say, guarding my heart.
He grins, but his eyes show no emotions. I can feel the flames shooting through him. He’s about to say something despicable to me.
“Nora, you’ve come a long way for a Judith – I’m surprised you mention your background when both you and I know that part of your life was a lie. You were deceived by your own mother.” Frederick’s irritation is becoming more obvious. “You never were a Judith. Elite Raider of the Jarl Dynasty is what you pride yourself with – and you come to me now, begging for an alliance.”
Rage is bottling up inside me. Frederick reminds me of his father now. Condescending beyond measure. I go to crack my hand across his face, but he grabs my wrist before it meets his cheek.
“Let go of me, Frederick. I wanted to see you because I have good intentions. I don’t want a war. We’ve had enough of those.”
“You’re afraid to fail,” he cocks an eyebrow. “Without Magnus, you’re nothing – he has abandoned your dynasty, and left you with a mission you have no clue how to solve. Am I right? If you did you’d trust in your own powers.”
“You know nothing of my powers,” I let out a cold breath I have been holding on to. Frederick frowns. He’s cruel and I don’t recognize him. “I don’t have to rely on black magic and dark ways to get what I want.”
“Do you think I have a choice?” he shouts. “I don’t get to choose what I want. It’s a luxury the Verans can’t afford.”
“What are you afraid of? Leave the dark ways – you’re better than your dad.”
“What do you know? You don’t even know yours. You never had a father figure. You’re just restless, wild and searching for your identity.”
If only Frederick knew that I do know who I really am, the ground would shake underneath him.
“If you hate me so much then why don’t you expose me, Frederick,” I narrow my eyes and look into his face. He’s shaking his head, lips curled down into a grimace. He glances into my eyes, an amber in the black ocean of his eyes appears.
“Because…” he sighs. This very moment I hear his heart unfold and beat very slowly. The sound of waves crashes in my ears and the morning light peeks through the main garden square where we stand. A furious wind plays with my hair and it twirls around Frederick’s face. His eyes become warm, tawny. “What are we doing here, Nora?” My fingers stretch out to touch his face – just like the dream I had in Karen’s house. “What are we doing?”
“Frederick?”
“I don’t want to pretend anymore. I never hated you,” he says with measured precision. I lower my hands and pin them to my side. “I’m in love with you, and I will always be in love with you, because you are the curse the gods gave me.” His face softens and he takes my hand into his.
“Why do you say such things? Both you and I know…”
“That you will never confess to loving me,” he says irritably. “I know the way he looks at you. Is that what you want? One of your own kind? Someone like Magnus. Look at you – you’ve changed.”
“I thought I’d give it one chance to see if we could work together for the sake of peace, but clearly this isn’t going to work. You’re set in your ways,” I say.
“Nora, I will not leave my band or forget who I am, but equally I can’t forget about you either. I’ve tried, by the gods I have, but my mind… my mind refuses to let go of you.”
“You don’t love me, Frederick, you love the idea of me. But I never loved the idea of you because that’s just too complicated. You frustrate me. I loved the softness inside you that withered away – the warmth you gave me when we made it past Eldor. Your trust and loyalty. I love… who you were when I first met you. Now you’re just like your dad. A power-hungry Viking lord. Well, guess what? There are plenty of them. Join your herd at the Sovereign Republic.”
He pulls me up against his body and plants a kiss on my mouth. His cold full lips ignite a sensational feeling inside me – and just before it reaches my heart, I push him back.
“You love me, I know you do,” he says, “I can feel it.” Sadness wells in his eyes when he realizes what he’s done.
“What difference does it make?” I say. “Love is not enough, and if we don’t form a peaceful alliance then we’ll always be enemies. War will be upon us. Not just us, but among all the races.”
“That decision is out of my hands, Nora,” he says sadly. “I may lead the Rognvald Dynasty but I don’t forge the decisions behind what we do. Neither do you. We both rely on our alliances. You need your embedsmen and chancellors in the senate as much as I need the Lumini Lords. Politics in the Triangle is inevitable.”
“At least I have a strong will to break the mold.”
“Thousands of years of Viking tradition is not something you just change,” says Frederick curtly. “You want to deny what the gods have chosen you for? Then you are far more ungrateful than I thought.”
I remember what Karen told me, that the gods cursed Frederick and they cursed him so he could never be with the one he truly loves. But why would they curse him with something so cruel?
“If we can’t love each other…”
“We’ll be enemies,” says Frederick. “If you’d have joined the Rognvald—”
“Stop!” I hiss, “I will never join your kind.”
“You’re not better. In fact, you’re weak.”
“The Norse gods blessed me, and they cursed you.”
“Then go to your gods!” shouts Frederick. “Go and ask them for strength and power, because you will need it, and leave my curse with me.”
“The nine worlds will never be yours to rule – the gods—”
“We’re stronger than ever. This is the era of the Verans,” he exclaims arrogantly. “Days of the Goth Empire is numbered.”
“Remember what happened to Loki,” I say. “The god you worship was never favored or trusted.” Anger spirals through him.
“Because I love you I will pretend I don’t know who you are. Should the Republic find out about you, matters will be out of my hands.”
“You mean should your father find out?” I say. “You don’t have the courage to stand up to him, do you?”
Frederick turns his back on me and walks away. As he reaches the gates he looks back and I see his charcoal eyes filled with both bewilderment and anger.
“It doesn’t have to be this way Frederick,” I shout after him. “We can
still find a way to avoid this madness.” The Judith inside me doesn’t want to believe in war.
“It’s the only way,” he shouts back. “My dad will soon know who you are. It’s too late now.”
“Frederick, wait!”
“You’d better pray to your gods for strength,” calls Frederick. “There will be blood.” He leaves on a note that stabs my chest like an icepick.
Are we enemies or lovers? Enemies says my mind, lovers says my heart. I guess my awakening was in vain after all. I feel fragile, weak and broken. I let myself fall to the muddy grass and hold my head in my hands.
What have I done? By Odin and Thor, what have I done to myself and to my heart?
10
IN THE ASSEMBLY hall, all eyes are on me shining through the dark room. Raiders spectating wear animal masks, a ritual to show their inner creatures. The custom of wearing masks is ancient and mystical – and this gathering is no different. When a new leader is appointed, Jarls gather to celebrate.
To lead the Jarl Dynasty, one must have the stamina of a wolf, a heart of gold and the strength of a giant. Raised in the shadows of Slotsplads, Magnus’s refined manners and sophisticated approach equipped him well for what he’s about to leave the Jarl Dynasty for – to rule the Goth Empire. He’s an Emperor, but he’s also a warrior. His training as elite started when he was four.
His knowledge and intuition to lead are stronger than that of the rulers of all the dynasties combined. Still, he believes I can live up to his expectations. My newly acquired powers give me hope that I will triumph as Magnus’s successor.
Why not let Tene lead? I could see why he wouldn’t want that. She’s too arrogant and her mood fluctuates from hot to cold. Her desires and beauty are a distraction and she knows it. The first time I saw Tene, racing on her motorcycle, she wanted to be seen – the forgotten Viking royalty.
Leaders of the Jarl Dynasty eat last, meaning we think of the common good first. Much like the values we have in the East. Tene perhaps thinks of her own needs first. Her rationale is not always easy to follow. She’s got a brutal side, too. All Jarl Raiders do or we wouldn’t be cut out as warriors for the challenges ahead of us.