Fragments of your Soul (The Mirror Worlds Book 1)

  “Where am I?” Arvid said finally, while the man took her cup again. “And who are you?”

  “You’re in Sölunnir, my lady,” replied the woman, “the underground fortress of Isvirndjellen. My name is Desrei, and this,” she pointed at the young man next to her, “is Mardun. We are your servants, my lady.”

  “My servants?” said Arvid. “I have no servants.”

  “You have two, my lady,” said Mardun and bowed his head.

  Arvid looked at them skeptically, but decided to pursue the matter. Her mouth still felt dry and speaking was difficult.

  “The underground fortress of Isvirndjellen, you say?” she asked after a while. “Is that… some kind of a castle?”

  Desrei exchanged a quick glance with Mardun, then nodded. “Yes, my lady. It’s the seat of His Majesty King Farbaute, ruler of Isvirndjellen. Unfortunately, however, he is not here. He only returns in a few weeks.”

  In Arvid’s head everything began to turn. She was in a king’s castle? And why Isvirndjellen? Had they not just been somewhere in the Ice Wastes? She remembered the worm which had attacked her, and her hand involuntarily wandered to the spot on her hip where she had been stung.

  “How long have I been here?” said Arvid, running her tongue over her cracked lips. “And… forgive all the questions, but where is Isvirndjellen? I feel terribly confused.”

  Desrei smiled. “Today is the third day since your arrival. I understand that you are confused, my lady. The poison… well, it has a very strong effect. It takes time to recover from it.”

  Mardun jabbed Desrei in the side, and she looked up, confused. When she did not seem to understand, he sighed and said, “Isvirndjellen is one of four countries of Jökutnjamargr, my lady. It’s the largest, southernmost of the four.”

  “So I’m still in the Ice Wastes,” said Arvid firmly. “I didn’t know humans live here.”

  “You don’t seem to know much about this place,” said Desrei, earning another nudge from Mardun. “Forgive me, my lady,” she said hastily. “I didn’t mean to…”

  “It’s all right,” Arvid interrupted soothingly. “You’re right, I know next to nothing about the area. I didn’t even know that the Ice Wastes are divided into several countries.” She lifted the blanket and looked down at herself. She was wearing underwear made of a fine, white fabric, and her bare shoulders already began to tingle in the prevailing cold of the room.

  “Are you strong enough to get up and eat, my lady?” asked Mardun.

  Arvid nodded. Her body was heavy, as after a very long night’s sleep, but otherwise she felt good and was also hungry.

  “Very well, my lady,” said Mardun. “I’ll get you something to eat and tell His Highness that you are awake.”

  When he had gone, Desrei came closer and helped Arvid to pull the huge blanket aside so she could sit up. Then the servant hurried over to a small wooden bench, where various garments had been made ready.

  “Who does he mean by His Highness?” asked Arvid. She grimaced when her bare feet touched the stone floor. It was freezing.

  “Prince Byleist, my lady,” said Desrei while she helped her into a white robe from lightly draping but warm fabric. “He is king Farbaute’s son and will become king after him. His Majesty is, as I said, currently traveling.”

  “Are they… giants?” Arvid asked uncertainly. “Or humans like you?”

  “Oh, of course they are giants, my lady. We are only servants.”

  Arvid received warm socks and lined boots made of light gray leather, then a coat that was almost white and had seams decorated with colored embroidery.

  Now she finally had time to look around more closely. It was easy to see that this place had been created for giants. The door through which Mardun had left the room almost reached to the ceiling, which in turn was so high that she felt like she was in a hall. The chests and bookshelves were of enormous size. Only an armchair, the table and chairs in a corner appeared to be meant for humans.

  She saw colorful fabrics and carpets, embroidered wall hangings and thick skins on the chairs. In the raw stone walls there were niches, like the ones Arvid knew from Loke’s caves in the mountains. Even the semi-circular pool of water in the middle of the room reminded her of Loke’s home. It was beneath a cluster of greenish star lamps, from which water was dripping constantly.

  Shortly after, Mardun returned with her food. “I’ve informed His Highness that you are awakened, my lady,” he said. “Unfortunately, he is not available. Council is in session.” He put two bowls down on the table, one with dark bread and one with a strange yellow paste that Arvid could not identify.

  “Have a seat, my lady,” he said.

  Arvid did as she was told. “Sit down with me,” she said, as the two servants remained standing in the corner. The two seemed unsettled.

  “That’s not our place, my lady,” said Mardun.

  “It’s my wish,” Arvid said, frowning. “Sit down.”

  They hesitated, then they did as she had requested. It was evident that they felt uncomfortable. They watched Arvid with nervous glances.

  “What is this?” said Arvid, pointing to the yellow paste.

  “It’s called Roltjem, my lady,” replied Desrei. “It’s made from roots and beans and is preferably eaten with bread.”

  It tasted strange, but good, and for a while there was silence while Arvid ate. Desrei and Mardun did not seem to dare to say anything.

  “How did you get here?” Arvid asked.

  “What do you mean, my lady?” asked Desrei, surprised.

  “I mean… How long have you been servants here?”

  “Always, my lady,” answered Desrei.

  “We were born here,” added Mardun.

  Arvid looked at him in disbelief. “Really? What about your parents?”

  “They are also servants in Sölunnir, my lady. In a different part of the fortress.”

  “And all your lords are giants?”

  “Almost all, my lady,” answered Mardun.

  “Apart from a few dwarves,” Desrei added, “and you, of course.” She smiled. “It’s wonderful to be able to serve a human goddess. You cannot imagine how happy I was when I was picked. Will you tell us of Jördendheim and Asgard? I’d love to learn more about it.”

  Mardun again pushed her roughly in the side and Desrei grimaced.

  “Forgive her talkativeness, my lady,” said Mardun. “She’ll better herself.”

  “I don’t mind,” Arvid said, “I’ll be happy to tell you about Jördendheim… but not today. Can you tell me where I can find Loke? Is he here?”

  “He is, my lady,” answered Mardun. “But as I said, council is being held.”

  Arvid was disappointed but she had no choice but to wait and be patient.

  On this day Arvid saw neither Loke nor one of the giants. The next day the situation was no different. She was being told that none of them was available, but she didn’t really know why. Actually, she was too tired to ask.

  Arvid still was far from recovered. She was sleeping a lot or lay in a corner of the oversized bed, flipping through books. In between, she chatted with Desrei and Mardun and learned little by little that Sölunnir was home to several generations of humans, who were, with very few exceptions, servants. Arvid had mixed feelings when she thought about it. They seemed to be treated well and looked happy, but they were not free.

  On the third day Arvid was tired of waiting and asked Desrei to show her Sölunnir. As soon as they had left their quarters, it once again became evident that they were in a fortress of giants. Everything was of enormous size. The ceiling of the hall that they walked down was far above them. To their left and right mighty, tall pillars with black and green banners towered. The doors were four or five times as high as Arvid, but all also had handle
s at human height.

  At the end of the passage an open portal led into another transverse corridor, which looked almost like the first one, and from which a larger number of doors led off.

  “These are the guest quarters,” said Desrei. “Isvirndjellen maintains good contacts with most dwarf peoples. There are a few dwarven guests at almost all times, often for long periods. They tend to have an exhausting journey.”

  They passed through another portal, reaching a long staircase that led down in a slight curve. At its end began another corridor, but on closer inspection Arvid realized that it was a gallery. On its left side there were huge, open windows.

  Arvid approached one and looked through it. What she saw took her breath away.

  “That… can’t be real,” she murmured in disbelief.

  Far below her was a round place that looked like a giant courtyard, surrounded by walls. It was densely overgrown with greenery. Arvid saw no trees, but something that resembled huge bushes, matte-shining mushrooms as high as houses and in the midst the glittering run of a brook. Around them in the distance the brightly lit windows of the fortress glowed. As Arvid looked up, she saw a ceiling full of stalactites, which here and there stuck out from a glowing, bluish haze.

  “These are the gardens, my lady,” said Desrei. “Would you like to see them up close?”

  “Absolutely,” said Arvid. “Can you walk in them?”

  Desrei smiled. “That’s what they are here for, my lady. Some fruit and berries are growing there, but they are mainly a place for the guests. The fields lie west, outside the fortress.”

  She led Arvid down more flights of stairs, through a small hall where several brown-clad servants were hanging up tapestries and stared after them with undisguised curiosity. They passed another corridor and finally stepped through a semicircular portal into the gardens.

  From here the sight was even more overwhelming than from the gallery, because the bushes and mushrooms suddenly rose up over their heads. Arvid saw that there were no bushes, but plants that reminded her of ferns. The floor was covered with a carpet of moss and small varieties of ferns, fungi and different plants with small, round leaves. There didn’t seem to be any grass.

  “It’s wise not to leave the paths, my lady,” said Desrei after Arvid had stood and looked at the green splendor for a while. “One easily gets disoriented under the branches and… well, sometimes deep-dwellers get here.”

  “You mean those worms?” said Arvid. “They’re coming down here?”

  “Yes, my lady, sometimes. It doesn’t happen often, but it’s better to be cautious.”

  They followed the path through the gardens. Arvid was amazed. The staggering amount of plants glowing in the dark, not only fungi but also ferns and stems with small, spherical fruit, was overwhelming.

  Finally they reached the brook. Arvid stepped onto the stone bridge and looked down into the water. There were no fish. The water perhaps flowed too fast, so fast that the stream bed seemed to be made from a naked groove of solid rock. The carpet of green ended exactly where the water began.

  As they turned to go on, Arvid stopped, startled. Along the path came two giants in green and black striped robes and helmets. Arvid knew that this was a fortress of giants, but since she had not yet met any, the sight came as a shock. Then she saw that the giants only seemed to be escorts. In their middle walked a burly, bearded man with a slouch hat, who was less than half their height.

  Desrei bowed low as the three approached. Arvid, however, had to pull herself together in order not to instinctively recoil from the huge figures. She only reached up to their belts. The two guards bowed their heads in a silent greeting, while the bearded man looked at her from dark, curious eyes. He was short for a man, more than a head shorter than Arvid, but significantly wider, which suggested that he was a dwarf.

  “Greetings,” Arvid said finally. She was unsure how to behave and who this person was. Her action probably wasn’t completely wrong, because the bearded man stopped before her and returned the greeting, though in Old Jördish.

  “And who might you be, pretty lady?” he asked. “Quite obviously you’re not a servant.”

  It took Arvid a moment to switch to the other language, but then she forced a smile. “My name is Arvid,” she said. “I come from Jördendheim.”

  “A human goddess, my lord,” said one of the giants, also in Old Jördisch. “She is a guest of His Highness Prince Byleist, and arrived with Loke five days ago.”

  The bearded man’s face brightened. “A goddess, I understand. It’s an honor to make your acquaintance, Arvid.” He bowed slightly. “I’m Ogur Son Hoormi. I come from the western part of Fermalenia.”

  “It’s… an honor,” Arvid said haltingly, automatically repeating Ogur’s words, as she could not think of any other wording. “Forgive me, I… my Old Jördish is not very good.”

  “I think it sounds great,” Ogur said cheerfully. “Come, I’ll show you the best place here in the gardens.”

  Arvid wasn’t sure if she’d feel like it, but Ogur had already turned around and went in the direction from which he had just come, and so Arvid followed him. The two guards and Desrei stayed a few steps behind them.

  Ogur proved to be very talkative. He told of his homeland and his family and explained that they provided the giants with a special variety of grain.

  “We are one of the few countries who almost exclusively trade with the giants. Some countries in the south of the dwarven realm have turned to the humans, because they hope for more profit. But humans are not interested in buying grain. They have their own fields.”

  “How many countries are there in the dwarven realm?” said Arvid.

  “Since two years ago there are only sixty-seven,” Ogur answered after a moment’s thought. “After the heirs of the houses Son Erisi and Son Bach got married, they decided to unite their countries.”

  “Sixty-seven,” Arvid repeated in amazement. “Tha dwarven realm must be of enormous size.”

  “A bit smaller than Jördendheim. It’s just divided into many countries. The house Son Hoormi rules over the second largest of them; it’s adjacent to the Ice Wastes.” Ogur was obviously proud.

  He led Arvid to a circular place, from which some flat, wide stairs led up a hill. Upstairs there was a stone circle. In the middle a number of pretty plants grew, which were arranged in small groups and glowed in different colors. Around them there were seats that looked like two steps of solid rock.

  Ogur was amazed at how little Arvid knew about the giants and the dwarves and began to tell her all sorts of things, starting with the stone benches on which they sat down now. If you were small, you could sit on the upper level and put up your feet. The giants, however, were able to comfortably use the full height.

  “In the past you had to accept the fact that everything was too big,” Ogur laughed, “but nowadays the giants are a little more accommodating. In most places, there are chairs for our size, high enough to be able to comfortably sit at a table along with giants.”

  “Are you here in Sölunnir often?” asked Arvid.

  “Several times a year. My house has a contract with King Farbaute that gives us the right to a certain amount of raw materials, ore, and sometimes soul gems. I come here on a regular basis, to look at what is currently available. It all depends on where the giants are digging at the moment.”

  “And in return, you provide them with grain?”

  “That’s right,” Ogur replied proudly, “apart from two months in the winter, we supply Sölunnir throughout the year. We also have really good apples, but regrettably giants are not particularly fond of fruit.”

  “Really?”

  “Giants don’t like sweet things. They like it either bland or bitter. Well, at least they’ve started using salt now.”

  “But the
re are also many humans living here.”

  Ogur waved. “Almost exclusively servants,” he said, folding his arms and glancing over to Desrei, who stood on the other side of the round and waited. “They have to adjust to the giants.”

  Arvid frowned. “I don’t like it.”

  “Me neither,” said the dwarf. “I’d really like to sell the giants some apples.”

  “My concern is that people are slaves here,” Arvid said with barely suppressed anger.

  Ogur thoughtfully rocked his head back and forth. “I wouldn’t call them slaves,” he said. “They are treated well, get plenty of food…”

  “Do they receive a payment for their work?” Arvid interrupted him. “I hardly think so.”

  Ogur hesitated, then shook his head. “No, of course not. But that’s their role, after all. They don’t know anything else.”

  “It’s still wrong,” Arvid said firmly.

  “You’re not the only one who thinks like that,” said the dwarf. “The poor relationship between Jördendheim and the Ice Wastes has a lot to do with it. It’s a holdover from the old days when the giants still dominated all these lands.” He shrugged. “But giants are quite stubborn. There’s probably not much you can do about it.”

  Although the subject excited Arvid, she decided to leave it for the time being. She didn’t want to start a fight with the first dwarf she met. It wasn’t Ogur and his people who were responsible for the position of the humans in Sölunnir.

  Ogur’s supply of stories about interesting experiences with the giants seemed endless. Although Arvid made many mistakes in Old Jördisch and felt as if she was constantly trying to find the right words, she started to feel a little more secure after a while. She had to concentrate on what Ogur was saying to understand it in detail, but was now glad to have been forced to learn this language back at Vero-Maghen.