by Hugh B. Long
Nila put her hand on the smooth white bark of the ywen tree closest to her. “It’s warm!” she exclaimed.
Saeran sauntered back to where Nila was standing. “Yes, there’s sap running between layers of the bark. As the upper parts of the tree are heated by our sun, the sap migrates down to the cooler levels, lower down on the tree. This heated sap then radiates a pleasant warmth which regulates the temperature of the forest on cool days. During the hot summer days, when there is thicker leaf cover in the upper canopy, the bark gets less sunlight, and stays cool. The whole system creates a self regulating temperature which is pleasant in any season."
"I remember learning about them in school," said Nila.
As they continued walking, the group approached a stand of nine ywen trees dwarfing everything around them. They were half again as large as any trees they’d seen yet in Llangernyw.
Saeran looked up at the trees, and with reverence said, “This is the sacred grove, the Naw Colfen.”
* * *
Saeran turned toward the trees and gestured. "The Naw Colfen are our nine holiest trees, representing the nine classes in Alfar society. There were originally three classes, said to be given us by the god Heimdall. I believe your myths speak of a similar tale in the Lay of Rig. Heimdall, or Rig, was said to have introduced the class of Thralls, Karls, and Jarls. Which roughly translated, means: peasants or slaves, craftsmen, and leaders.
As our culture evolved we refined our class structure to better suit the needs and wants of our people. Unlike the Hindu caste system from Earth’s history, our classes are voluntary. Every Alfar has the same opportunity. In the first hundred years of their life, an Alfar studies, trains, and explores their passions and strengths; then, on their 100th birthday, they choose a class in which they will remain until death. This is much like a human finishing university then embarking on a career.”
"What if you don't have enough of the lower classes to do the work?" asked Nila.
"We do not refer to workers as lower classes, but I understand your meaning. It rarely happens, but when it does, people from other classes take turns filling in as required. It is possible to see our leaders out tending to crops, or serving food some days."
Saeran continued around the circular walkway. "Each of the Naw Colfen represents one of our classes, as follows,” Saeran pointed to each in turn, “the Arbeder, our workers, the Greftwyr, our craftsmen, the Farsiandr, our merchants, the Harlunydd, our artists, the Wydonwyr, our scientists, the Peirianyd, our engineers, the Rhyfelwyr, our warriors, the Offeiriad, our spiritualists, and finally, the Phenadur, our leaders.” Saeran turned back to the group as she finished.
“Another one of the pillars of our society,” Saeran continued, “are the Atebol, our holy virtues.” Saeran turned and gestured to a shorter wooden pillar located near the centre of the grove. “Carved in runes on this pillar are the virtues to which all Alfar strive,” she pointed to each row of runes on the pillar and read, “accountability, interdependence, balance, truth, hospitality, justice, loyalty, industriousness, and perseverance.” She turned back to her audience.
Adrianna had a curious look, and spoke up, “How do you enforce those laws?”
“The Alfar are guided and encouraged to live by the Atebol, but are not forced to do so. However, in extreme cases, those who have proven time and time again to not abide by the virtues, are banished. We Alfar find it odd humans need such detailed laws to know how to behave. Our code is simple, yet it seems to work for us.”
Hal nodded enthusiastically. “It's nice to see first hand, like Nila, I studied Alfar culture in school, but seeing it in the flesh—or in the bark,” Hal joked, "is humbling." He bowed deeply to Saeran and said, “diolch i chi ddynes hyfryd."
Blushing, Saeran smiled. "Well done, Haldor. It seems you also have your grandfathers flair for languages. And your pronunciation of Alfish was vey good."
"Well, since you took the time to learn English, I thought it only polite I reciprocate. Don't quiz me though, I spent a whole week getting that one phrase right."
Laughter rippled through the trio.
"I will show you to your rooms where you can freshen up. We are having a dinner in your honor tonight, then tomorrow morning we will meet the rest of the team at the starport."
* * *
The main hall in Llangernyw where dinner was being held, was situated in the center of the city / grove. Siani had given him a very detailed description of its functions and impressive active-arbortecture. The hall could be configured for banquets, concerts, or whatever else was needed. On this night, it was set up to serve a banquet in honor of the guests from Earth and New Midgard.
The hall was formed by a recess between the intersection of four great trees. The ceiling created by the bark-clad titans was fifty meters high, and the hall stretched two-hundred meters long and a hundred meters wide.
At the end of the banquet hall were two massive statues, at least ten meters high: one of Freyr, and the second of his sister Freya. Alfheim was said to be the domain of Lord Freyr, and the Alfar considered him their patron; they also paid extra deference to his beautiful twin sister Freya. They were, respectively, a god and goddess of fertility, belonging to the Vanir, one of the two main tribes of Norse gods. Their purview was not limited to fertility: Freyr was said to be a great warrior, and Freya was renowned for her use of magic.
The floor of the banquet hall was made of a middling-green, fragrant moss, which served as a comfortable medium to walk on, and absorbed spilled beverages and odors; it was the perfect self-sustaining, organic flooring. All it needed was some diffuse sunlight, which it received through the branches in the canopy above the hall, and water; and on either side of the banquet hall, two small streams ran through its entire length.
Hal marveled at the beauty of this place. It was dreamlike. He pondered over the continuum of living environments, such as Earth, New Midgard, and Alfheim. Each was so different: Earth being on the far left of the continuum, and still industrial, and not as well integrated with the environment as it could be. New Midgard was in the middle of the continuum, a work in progress, the men of Earth reaching and hoping for something better. And then there was Alfheim, perfection of form, function, and sustainability; the long term goal realized. Hal knew the Alfar had been around longer than humans, and their culture had millennia more to devote to this, as well as them having longer lifespans. He wondered if the environmental integration contributed to that longevity … perhaps.
The roots of the four trees which formed the hall were ornately carved with the now familiar designs reminiscent of old Earth’s celtic tribes, knot-work and anthropomorphic creatures telling stories of heroes and daily life.
Hal’s revery was interrupted by Siani, who touched his arm with a smile.
“Impressed?” she asked.
“Like you can’t imagine,” he said, shaking his head in awe.
“I’m glad you like it. Let’s get you seated. You are of course, the guest of honor, so you’ll be sitting up among the White Council.” She motioned to a table at the far end of the hall. There were already hundreds of people seated.
As Siani escorted Hal down the central aisle, many Alfar smiled and nodded to him as he passed. He didn’t know them, but they certainly knew who he was. He felt a bit intimidated; he really didn’t like the limelight.
A dozen or so people stood up from the head table as they approached.
“Haldor Olsen, let me introduce you to our dignitaries. Saeran you know already,” Saeran smiled and sat back down and Siani motioned to the next Alfar seated, “this is Gwawr, keeper of the grove of Llangernyw—she’s much like a mayor,” Gwawr shook his hand and sat down.
Siani continued down through the entire table and introduced Afanen, a tiny red headed woman who’s callused hands knew a day’s work; she represented the workers on the White council. Next was Llinos, an Alfar with a greenish tinge to her hair; she represented the craftsmen. Rhydderch of the merchants was a tall
man with earth brown hair and an eager smile. Olwyn, the youngest looking councilor so far, was a delicate, fair-haired artist - she had the look of someone who saw beauty in everything. Heddwyn was next, and greeted him with a firm handshake. As a member of the scientist class, he said he was particularly looking forward to meeting Hal. Though Hal thought his sky blue hair seemed overly whimsical for such a serious man. Hal learned later the Alfar could change their hair color more or less permanently with a treatment that persisted until reversed or treated again. He knew women who would kill for that formula.
Next was Gethin, a swarthy Alfar with dark green hair, verging on black; he represented the engineers and was one of their most famous arbortects. Iforr was a giant of a man. His iron-grey hair was in perfect agreement with his serious demeanor, and his role as representative of the warrior caste. Next in line was a stunningly beautiful blonde woman, Eluned, head of the spiritual caste.
Finally Hal was introduced to Grufudd, a serious but pleasant man with a brown goatee - the first facial hair Hal had seen on an Alfar; apparently it wasn't very popular. Grufudd represented the leaders caste.
“It’s my privilege to meet all of you, Hal said. “I can’t thank you enough for honoring me with this dinner.” He gave them a slight bow.
Grufudd said, “it’s our honor, Haldor Olsen.” Grufudd closed his eyes and inclined his head slightly.
Hal took his seat between Eluned and Iforr. His crew were seated at a table adjacent to his at a ninety degree angle, close enough he could speak to Nila. They made eye contact, and he could see her mouth the word ‘Wow’. Hal nodded in agreement—wow indeed.
* * *
Thankfully the Alfar weren’t fond of useless speeches and unnecessary pomp and ceremony. That suited Hal just fine. They were an eminently practical people in so many ways, and he learned much over the course of dinner.
Eluned tutored him in the Alfar Atebol, which were very similar to something created on Earth a century before—the nine noble virtues of Asatru, which were: courage, truth, honor, fidelity, discipline, hospitality, self reliance, industriousness, and perseverance. They were nine in number, as the Alfar’s Atebol were. The number three and nine were highly significant in the old Norse Myths, and in the modern spiritual practice of Asatru.
Asatru was Hal’s spiritual path. He didn’t consider it a religion; to him religion meant dogma, and carried too much baggage. Asatru was the way of his ancestors prior to Christianity, although it had no name back then. Asatru simply meant true to the Aesir, which was one of the two main families of Gods, the Vanir being the other. Asatruar—those who practiced his path, revered both families of gods and goddesses; Hal always felt it was an imprecise term for his spiritual path, but after a century of use it was well known.
Asatru was the reverence of the old gods, of one’s ancestors, a respect for nature, and living things, and an awareness of the land spirits or wights; it was a path of wholeness and beauty. It was also a pragmatic path; Asatru lore didn’t talk about turning the other cheek if your neighbor slapped you. By all means, slap him back, harder, and make sure he gets the message.
Common sense stories were written down in the Sagas and Eddas, and in particular, the Havamal, which was an incredibly practical set of values and maxims to live by. That was the foundation of Hal’s spirituality: practicality and a respect for all things. Asatruar didn’t seek to convert anyone; they respected and encouraged all tribes or peoples to practice their own folk religions. His Italian friends had re-discovered their Pagan roots, and Hal enjoyed celebrating festivals like Lupercalia—what the world had once called Valentine’s Day. To Hal, diversity was wonderful, homogeneity, anathema.
After first contact with the Alfar in 2013, the world had changed on every level. As one might have expected, there was religious upheaval. For many Christians their core beliefs were shaken to the core, their roots torn up; this time had been dubbed the Religious Singularity.
By the SID’s estimate, ninety percent of Christians simply stopped practicing their religion altogether, and over the next century Earth saw a massive resurgence in the re-adoption of the pre-Christian beliefs. In England and Western European there was Asatru and Druidry, as well as the relatively new Pagan path of Wicca; The Italians had Nova Roma, and there were scores of other diverse regional practices.
The mysteries of the runestones unlocked an Earth-shattering connection to aliens. Earth’s old religions now had scholars and archaeologists all over the planet scrambling to find their own equivalent to runestones. The question on everyone’s mind was, if Northern European gods or aliens, or whatever people thought they were, had left clues for mankind, could other gods and Pantheons have done the same for their people?
“How goes the ship building?” Iforr asked Hal.
“Pretty well I think, Iforr. We have several of the Skofnung-class destroyers out in the Sol system on space trials now. These are the first of the Interstellar Armed Forces vessels—our first warships, as it were. We also have the Seax-class corvettes fully operational. Those are for the System Defense Force under Prime Commander Soo Kenaugh; they’re quick, but sacrifice hyperdrive for in-system acceleration and maneuverability. And the first of the Gungnir-class destroyers is rolling out of space-dock. She’s impressive! Thirty-thousand tonnes of mean.”
“Excellent,” Iforr replied, “we have much territory to explore together, we Alfar and humans, and the better equipped we are, the safer the venture. I know I sometimes sound paranoid, but it’s simply part of my job.” He shrugged.
As the night continued, Hal cemented friendships on the White Council, which he knew would serve him well. He also enjoyed their local Llangernyw brew; it was potent stuff and very smooth; as the evening came to a close, Hal wished it hadn't been quite so smooth.
* * *
Like everything else on Alfheim, the Heyrn Coedwig Starport was mostly organic in construction, but here they made allowances for some familiar structures and equipment to accommodate visiting ships from Earth and other planets.
The White Council assigned Hal’s team a one-thousand-tonne science vessel, the Halygen. Just like their buildings, Alfar starships were organically grown. Granted, there was a lot more engineering than with their buildings. The ships were living organisms with a sophisticated artificial intelligence, and capable of self-repair.
Nila was standing outside a shuttle, talking with two Alfar men. "Good morning, boss!" Nila exclaimed with her usual cheerfullness.
Hal winced and squinted, then placed a hand at his temple. "Shhh, not so loud."
"Whoops! Something in the water not agreeing with you? Hmm?" she looked at him mischievously.
"Hi, you must be Haldor Olsen and Nila Johar,” came a new voice.
Hal and Nila turned to see the newcomer walking toward them.
"Adrianna Valerie, pleased to meet you Mr. Olsen,” she proffered a hand to Hal.
Adrianna Valerie's seductive name was in disagreement with her stout frame and homely looks. Close cropped red hair framed a pinched face with a porcine nose.
"Just Hal, Ms. Valerie. My father was Mr. Olsen."
Adrianna giggled nervously. "Ok, Hal. Call me Adrianna."
"We were expecting Elnora Kollman," he said with a furrowed brow.
"Right, well, apparently there was some family emergency and she was recalled to Earth. I'll be replacing her," Adrianna explained, looking nervous.
What were the chances of two human cryptographers visiting Alfheim at the same time? Slim at best, thought Hal. Was she the mole the President Rukundo had warned him about? "Well, I guess we're lucky you just happened to be here," he said.
Nila put one hand on Hal's shoulder, and with the other, gestured to the two Alfar she had been speaking to. "Hal, may I introduce, Idwal, our linguist," Hal shook his hand. "And, Talfryn, our astrophysicist."
"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Hal said.
"It’s my honor, Haldor,” replied Talfryn, “being related to Magnus Olse
n does make you a rather auspicious guest."
Hal was used to the recognition, but never liked it. His family was the closest thing to Earth nouveau-royalty. One hundred-and-fifteen years ago, Hal's great grandfather, three times removed, Magnus Olsen, had been instrumental in making first contact with the Alfar; that meeting literally changed the world; in fact, that meeting changed the stars themselves.
As the four spoke, two more Alfar approached the shuttle: a woman with flame-red hair, Siani, who he’d met at the banquet the previous night, and a solidly built male wearing greenish-gold armor, distinguishing him as one of the Rhyfelwyr class, a warrior.
"Good morning, all,” Siani said. “Looks like we’re all here. Hal, let me present Cadfael, he will act as our combative systems officer on the mission."
Cadfael had a stern, cold look on his face, almost like his visage were part of his armor. He shook Cadfael's hand, and it felt as though it were caught in a vice. Lean and mean, he thought. And friendly.
"Alright, let's get this show on the road," Hal said.
The team boarded the Alfar shuttle and strapped into the acceleration-chairs. As Hal was settling in, he felt the chair start to move beneath him, ever so slightly; it quickly conformed to his backside, making for a perfect fit. The temperature also seemed to be regulated; while it was cool outside, the seat was warm.
Siani had clearly seen Hal's surprised look. "Don’t be alarmed, it won’t bite. Though I’ve been known to.” she grinned.
The shuttle engines spun up for lift-off, but instead of the whine and pulsing Hal was used to feeling, there was an almost melodic thrumming; the Alfar shuttle sang as it took flight.
* * *
Within minutes of lift-off, the shuttle was approaching the Halygen in orbit. This was not the first Alfar ship Hal had seen, but as they were organic, no two ships were identical. Each type of ship, whether they were research vessels, warships or transports, shared common features and form, but each was truly unique. Hal appreciated the beauty and individuality of their vessels. Most of the Alfar ships looked like thick, white, branchless tree-trunks with a truncated root system for propulsion, pointing aft.