Fragments of your Soul (The Mirror Worlds Book 1)

by Erbsland, E. S.

  The idea of countless slain demons was anything but pleasant. On the other hand, Arvid felt a nagging uneasiness at the thought of again having to idly sit and wait. The demons were something she still could not place. For the people here they were an ever-present threat, mysteriously connected to the world transitions. Arvid suddenly had a strong desire to go outside and to see what these creatures were with her own eyes, even though she knew she would find nothing but dead bodies.

  She went up to her room and again put on a double layer of clothing and her cloak. When she shortly afterwards walked down the stairs again, she met Thoke, who she only had seen from a distance since the events of last night.

  “What are you up to?” he asked, aghast, when he saw Arvid’s clothing. “You don’t really want to go out there?”

  “I’m volunteering,” said Arvid. “I want to see what happened out there.”

  “Are you crazy?” said Thoke. “More demons might show up.”

  Arvid was unfazed. The City Guard wouldn’t let volunteers help if they really expected that they faced imminent danger.

  “All the guards are out there,” she said firmly. “Right now it’s just a matter of eliminating the carcasses as soon as possible.” She turned away and walked on.

  “Are you serious?” called Thoke after her, but she ignored him.

  There were about twenty students wrapped in warm coats in the entrance hall, including Gerdur. He, too, gave her skeptical glances, but said nothing. Shortly after, Master Aeldjarn showed up, wearing a thick fur cloak, and with a loud voice told them what to do. Arvid was assigned to one of four groups, led by a man of the City Guard.

  When they left the building, they were met by an icy wind that rustled through the branches of the fruit trees. Their leader took them to a wagon laden with tools, near which a dozen Asgardian soldiers were digging deep holes. Arvid got a shovel, and for the next few hours they did nothing else other than digging pits, without even seeing as much as a trace of a demon.

  After a short time, Arvid wished she had gloves, because her fingers were soon not only stiff with cold, but also full of blisters. Nevertheless, she continued with clenched teeth, until finally one of the white-robed guards yelled over the whistling wind that they were done here and should move to a different spot.

  “Arvid?” someone behind her suddenly asked with disbelief.

  When she turned around, she faced a man of the City Guard. It took her a moment before she realized that it was Nod. In the heavy armor and the tabard he looked just like all the others.

  “You should not be here,” he said. He looked battered and had dark circles under his eyes.

  “I just want to help,” said Arvid. She sounded more irritated as she had intended, because the cold and her aching hands weren’t exactly conducive to a good mood.

  Nod nodded weakly. “You have helped,” he said. “You look exhausted.”

  “So do you. I won’t go anywhere before I’ve seen those beasts.”

  A look of confusion began to spread over Nod’s face. “The demons?” he asked. “They’re all dead or fled. Why do you want to see them?”

  “Maybe I’m just curious,” said Arvid, grabbing her shovel and stomping over to one of the wagons. “But you’re right… I will hardly be able to keep digging.” She threw the shovel back into the wagon and raised her bloody, battered hand into the air.

  “Curious?” asked Nod. He looked at her as if he doubted her sanity. “It would be better if you’d satisfy your curiosity in the library. If something happens to you, then I’ll…” he paused and corrected himself. “If something happens, you could hardly defend yourself!”

  Arvid raised an eyebrow. “There are dozens of guards out here.”

  For endless seconds, Nod stared at her in silence, then he nodded reluctantly. “You’re right.” He let his gaze wander over the hill. “Come along.”

  “What, where are you going?” said Arvid, surprised, but she automatically followed Nod, who went straight away from the group of guards and in the opposite direction, down the hill.

  “To the demons,” Nod replied firmly. “Otherwise I apparently can’t get you to go back inside.”

  “But… all the soldiers are over there,” Arvid pointed out. As much as she wanted to see the demons, she still had a disquieting feeling about going so far away from the others.

  “One is right in front of you,” said Nod. “In addition, the circle of protection is well guarded, and we are still quite close to the school.” He gestured to a spot in front of him. “A few are over there.”

  Arvid’s heart began to beat faster as a handful of large, dark shadows emerged from the dark in front of them, scattered in the muddy grass. First she counted four small, wolf-like carcasses and one huge, plump one. It was so big she automatically slowed her steps.

  Nod drew his sword and started poking around on the ground with it. “Look,” he said.

  Arvid came closer and saw that there were more carcasses here than she had thought at first. Directly in front of Nod’s feet lay two scaly, black creatures. They weren’t much bigger than dogs, and one of them had almost been cleaved in half by something. It was a horrible sight. Slimy, shredded intestines were hanging from an arm-length, gaping hole in the belly of the creature. Over its head there was a deep cut, which had chopped an eyeball right out of its socket.

  Arvid had to force herself to move closer, but tried to only look at the more or less still intact carcass.

  “Are these really just… animals?” she murmured. At first glance, the beings looked like that. They had four legs and looked a tiny bit like dogs, though without any fur. They were covered with a layer of black, shiny scales, and on their backs loomed pointed horns, so they looked like a strange kind of reptile. A nauseating stench emanated from them. Arvid took a few steps back and calmed her stomach with a deep breath.

  “I guess they are,” replied Nod, and went on around the pile of dead bodies. Arvid automatically followed him and looked at the chopped and twisted creatures with increasing revulsion. Most were significantly larger than the first. They had elongated bodies and even longer tails, but almost inappropriately massive heads. Something about their physique seemed unnatural, but Arvid could not tell what it was. The head of a demon was smashed, so she quickly looked away.

  “The little ones are called Rokers, and these are scouts,” Nod said, pointing at one of the larger carcasses with the tip of his sword. “They often travel alone and track prey.” He went a few steps farther and up to the largest of the dead bodies, then he pressed his arm against his mouth and nose and turned away. “By the gods, they stink,” he exclaimed in disgust. “I hope you’ve seen what you wanted to see.”

  The stench now also reached Arvid’s nose. She automatically stopped at a safe distance. The rumbling in her stomach began to turn into an unpleasant feeling of nausea, and the acrid stench was almost overwhelming. It wasn’t only the dead bodies and torn entrails, but also the pervasive smell of burnt horn and meat.

  “Yes,” Arvid said tightly. “Thank you for showing me…”

  “Go back inside,” Nod said softly. “If something happens to you, I’ll get in real trouble.”

  “You?” said Arvid, surprised.

  “We,” Nod hastily corrected himself and shoved his sword back into its sheath. “So run back and warm yourself up. I have to go back to the others.”

  Arvid obeyed. She felt bad and frozen. She had seen what she wanted to see, and perhaps more.

  The Black Month

  Although the lessons were resumed a few days after the attack, it took over a week before some normality returned. Arvid couldn’t get the events out of her head for weeks, but over time she slowly began to feel more carefree again.

  She had begun to attend classes in Old Jördish and learn old runes,
something very few students did, but Loke had wished her to for unknown reasons. She quickly got better at reading and writing, too, and could soon easily read most of the books.

  Only her magical abilities didn’t really seem to develop. She did manage to produce light, but it still formed as a kind of dull, smoldering fog. By now she could produce large formations of it and get it to take different colors and shapes. It looked pretty, but other than that it was good for nothing.

  Eventually, Arvid asked Thoke for advice.

  “Have you ever tried an illusion?” he asked after he had followed Arvid’s account attentively.

  “I’ve pretty much tried nothing except lighting candles. If I have problems with that, I hardly need to try other things.”

  “Believe me, you should try,” insisted Thoke. “Someone recently showed me how to create one. Now that I think about it, it somehow reminds me of this strange fog that you keep creating.”

  “Really? What exactly do you mean by illusion?”

  Thoke smiled. “I’ll show you.”

  The common room of the white faculty wasn’t empty, and so they went to Arvid’s room. Thoke sat down on her bed; Arvid took her place at the table.

  “I lack practice, but I should still be able to manage,” he said.

  Arvid watched intently as Thoke raised his hand and looked at his fingertips. A moment later, a flickering, bright spot appeared, which began to move around his hand in frantic movements. It took Arvid a moment to realize that it was a moth.

  “Wow,” she said in amazement. Automatically, she rose from her chair and stretched out her hand, but the fluttering insect disappeared at once.

  “Of course you can’t touch it,” said Thoke. “It’s just light.”

  He told her what she had to do in order to form a certain image with light, and when Arvid tried it, she succeeded with astonishing ease. Her moth hardly flickered and looked so real, Arvid was perhaps more puzzled than Thoke, who took a sharp breath.

  “I knew it,” he said triumphantly. “My images are always too bright or evaporate as heat, but you almost seem to be born for this kind of magic.”

  “Amazing,” said Arvid, fascinated. “I wonder if I can manage other images.”

  Thoke chuckled. “Slow down, it’s quite difficult to create complex…” He broke off. Arvid had let the moth disappear and created the illusion of a red model car on the table. Her father used to have a similar one in his office.

  “Is that… an automobile?” Thoke said incredulously.

  Arvid nodded, but the distraction caused the image to disappear. As easy as it seemed for her to make the light take the shape of a picture in her head, it was still a mental effort to maintain such an illusion. Nevertheless, her heart jumped with joy after this success. With her magic, she could only light a candle with great difficulty, but creating such images was so much better.

  “Thank you, Thoke,” Arvid said happily. “So my powers are good for something after all.”

  “You’re even better than you think,” he said seriously. “Coth once showed us a few illusions for fun, and they were barely better than yours. And Coth is a master.”

  The next few days, Arvid spent every free minute alone in her room, trying to create illusions of different objects. She quickly realized that she had to know things very precisely in order to create a credible picture of them. If she was unsure about the details, the picture seemed blurred, distorted or flickering, and could hardly be sustained. Arvid also noted for the first time that the use of magic could lead to overexertion. One evening she kept creating new and larger light images, until she felt a sudden dizziness and an overwhelming feeling of weakness and had to sit down.

  The discovery of her talent brought a decisive turn. To date, Arvid had accepted that although she had the predisposition for white magic, she was no good at it. She had neither been especially interested nor motivated to explore and develop these powers, but since Thoke had shown her how to create illusions, this had radically changed.

  She wasn’t untalented. She only seemed to instinctively use her powers in a completely different way than most.

  The Month of Odin

  Weeks went by until the end of the work on the foundation of Vero-Maghen’s new circle of protection became visible. When it was finally finished and the arrival of the runemasters from Asgard was imminent, the whole school fell into a state of strained excitement. The forthcoming visit of the gods was on everyone’s lips.

  On the day of their arrival, everyone was already on their feet in the early morning hours. In the corridors and in the hall, large banners were hung up and the tables rearranged. The staff was cleaning everywhere and constantly shooed students off, who roamed in the entrance area, so as not to miss the arrival of the high visit. Aleri, Arvid, and a handful of other students helped out in the kitchen and spent hours peeling and chopping vegetables.

  Aleri talked incessantly. She raved in glowing terms about the announced gods, but especially about Thor, who was expected to also be part of the high visit. In her excitement, she cut her thumb, but didn’t flinch. She enthusiastically continued to chatter while Arvid bandaged the cut and watched her with some amusement.

  It was afternoon when the arrival of the riders was finally announced. For the first time since Arvid lived at Vero-Maghen, she heard the mighty tower bell being struck. A wild crowd quickly formed in the entrance area of the building. All masters went outside, followed by many students.

  Aleri tried to persuade Arvid to come outside with her to catch a glimpse of the gods, but Arvid refused. She was looking forward to the visit herself, though she couldn’t get rid of her antipathy towards Asgard. Here in Vero-Maghen she was fine; nevertheless, she remained a stranger. She had lost everything, and it was the gods who were responsible for it. Loke was the only one of them she felt respect for.

  She sat down on one of the stairways that led up to the gallery above the entrance hall and waited. From here she could see everything in peace. Downstairs still thronged, but for now nothing happened.

  Arvid was just playing with the idea of standing up and picking up something to read, as the mighty front door was flung open, and noise arose. Excited, she raised her head. Four guards in white tabards entered and dispelled a few students, then they quickly lined up to make room for the following gods.

  First appeared Borgarr and a man whom Arvid immediately recognized as Thor. He was a true giant, broad-shouldered, even taller than Borgarr. A short beard covered his chin; his carefully braided hair was of an intense orange color. His figure was almost entirely covered by a deep black cloak, but through a narrow gap, bits of armor flashed.

  Behind them two men of rather nondescript shape followed. One was dressed in brown and was bearded, and could have been a simple farmer. The other was in armor and tabard just like the guards to their sides, though complemented with an ornate blue cape.

  Last came two golden-haired women. Both wore fur-lined capes and long, green dresses, had petite, slender faces and looked like twins. One of the two was beaming all over her face; the other one, on the other hand, had pressed her lips into a thin line.

  Arvid slipped close to the wall and slumped back against the cold stone. The sight of the march was sobering. These were the gods everyone had been talking about for days—nothing more than a few people, whose clothes were a little more precious and whose hair a little more carefully treated. Perhaps they actually held powers that were superior to those of others—but was that really so crucial?

  Arvid was one of the last ones to finally arrive in the crowded dining hall. The seating arrangement had been turned inside out, so there was a long, transverse table in the backmost, elevated part of the hall, which was reserved for the gods and some selected persons. Arvid saw the five gods, Borgarr, Coth, Aeldjarn, and three other people she didn’t know. To
the left and right of the table, a number of guards in white had taken formation.

  Just as Arvid started to look for Thoke and Aleri, her eyes fell on one of the blonde women from Asgard, who now sat beside Thor and looked in her direction. For a moment, Arvid was frozen. Previously, in the crowd of the entrance hall, she had not noticed, but this woman was just beautiful. She couldn’t tell exactly what it was, but her bright eyes touched something inside her.

  Suddenly Arvid felt a hand on her shoulder and spun around. Behind her stood Thoke.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. “Will you sit with us?”

  Arvid took a moment, then she forced a smile and nodded.

  Aleri and Enild also sat at their table and talked incessantly about Thor and how noble and handsome he was. Arvid stole a glance at him. She had to give the two credit. Thor was quite attractive, albeit older than she had imagined. His hair was graying at the temples, and there were wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. Now that he had taken off the cloak, however, it was evident that in spite of everything he still had the body of a warrior.

  “Who are the others?” said Arvid to Thoke, because even though she knew she had already been told, she could no longer remember the names of the other gods.

  “The one with the long beard is Hedinn, a leader of Asgard’s runemasters,” whispered Thoke. “The woman on the left is Irja. She is a runemaster, too, and a black mage. Thor you know, and… the man with the white tabard is Arri, one of the three leaders of the Asgardian army. There are many stories about him, not just because he is a powerful warrior. Allegedly, he sees so far and clear like a hawk, even in the blackest of nights.”

  “And the other woman?” said Arvid. “The one next to Thor.”