Fragments of your Soul (The Mirror Worlds Book 1)

by Erbsland, E. S.

  “Why don’t you read it yourself?” said Arvid, reaching out to return the envelope to Naal. “You’re his mother. I’d… rather not have anything to do with it.”

  “I would do it, if I could!” Naal said indignantly. “But I can’t. Do you think I would come to you otherwise?”

  “Why can’t you?” said Arvid, slowly getting angry herself. At the same time she now opened the envelope anyway and pulled out a sheet of paper. Naal watched her with a sour expression.

  She unfolded the paper and saw a blank page. Surprised, she turned it over, but the back was also completely empty. It seemed not to have come in contact with a single drop of ink.

  “Whimsical, isn’t it?” asked Naal, but Arvid knew exactly what the secret of this message was.

  “Move aside,” she asked her mother-in-law. “I heard giants dislike fire…”

  Naal looked confused, then did as she was told. Arvid held out the paper and left the normal flow of time. Shortly after the handwritten message appeared, as the illusion of the paper dissolved and then reoccurred. It was ridiculously easy, and Arvid wondered how something like this ever had caused her trouble.

  As the illusion flickered the next time, Arvid saw the misty cloud of resting energy. It was only a small amount, and as Arvid ignited it, she could watch the flames slowly spreading, swirling and eventually dying as twitching, orange tongues of fire.

  She felt a hot, fiery breath when she returned to the normal flow of time. Next to her Naal gave a little scream. A small corner of the paper had caught fire, but Arvid simply blew it out and held the letter out for the old giantess.

  “Now you can read it,” she said, in a strange way satisfied by the ease of her success. “You know how to read, don’t you?”

  Naal looked at her sharply and then tore the paper out of her hand. Arvid had not read the message and had not intended to do so. But now that the short text was right in front of her, she did it nevertheless.

  Loke,

  I have the found the shard. Seek me out at once. It won’t withstand the stream for long.

  Hel

  Arvid didn’t know what this message meant, and she only had to look at Naal’s face to realize that she didn’t either. But this was not her affair. Whatever this letter meant, it didn’t concern her.

  “Do you need anything else from me?” Arvid said with feigned politeness.

  “You don’t know…”

  “No,” Arvid interrupted her quickly. “I don’t know what the message is supposed to mean.”

  Naal looked at her gloomily, then she nodded and rose to leave. Arvid had just picked up her book again, when the old giantess stopped again and turned back to her.

  “Thanks,” she said, although it was obvious it cost her quite an effort. “You know, maybe… you’re not that much of a shame for our house after all.”

  Arvid couldn’t manage to concentrate on reading anymore. Her thoughts inexorably kept wandering back to the letter. Eventually she realized that she couldn’t remember a single word of the last five pages she had read, and so she closed the book in an angry movement and threw it on the bench beside her.

  Her anger was directed at herself. Had she not decided to stay away from everything that had to do with Loke? She would no longer serve as his toy and let him push her around like a piece on a chessboard. But if she didn’t distance herself from everything about him and his tangled life, he would always have a certain power over her.

  This letter was such a thing. It came from Loke’s daughter and was addressed to Loke. This was not her affair. She simply had to stop thinking about it.

  Arvid returned to her quarters, but there was nothing for her to do. Finally, she went to Loke’s study and began to tidy up. She collected parchment and paper, ordered books and sorted letters. She wrapped up scattered threads to small clews, picked up needles and fabric remnants and put everything in the large chest. She missed Loke terribly, and so she continued in the living room.

  Several hours later she had sorted all the books by title, beaten furs and carpets, washed tables, chairs and shelves and picked up the clothes that had been scattered here and there. Eventually her feet and her back hurt so much, she exhaustedly sat down in one of the niches to rest. Of course, her thoughts went back to the letter again, and this time Arvid no longer resisted it.

  Wasn’t it strange? The message sounded so insignificant and yet it seemed immensely important. Why else would Hel protect the letter with an illusion? It could only mean she didn’t want anyone else to know.

  Yes, but what? They shouldn’t know she had found the shard. But what did she mean by that? A shard of what? And if this shard was so important to Loke, why didn’t Hel just bring it here? It wouldn’t withstand the stream for long, she had written. Was she referring to a river? Was it was already too late tomorrow? And what if Loke only returned in a few days?

  Arvid forced herself to rest. She couldn’t do anything—no, she wouldn’t do anything.

  When she turned to one side, she suddenly felt a sting on her hand and gave a little cry of pain. She quickly withdrew her hand, then she saw what had stung her. It was a needle. It was sticking out of a crumpled piece of fabric that was half buried under the skins.

  Arvid looked at it and felt her heart beating faster. She knew what it was, even before she pulled out the cloth and gently unfolded it. It was the embroidered image of the farmhouse at the river, which Loke had completed ten days ago. He had worked on it the day he went away. A piece of the ornament, which would frame the picture later, was already visible, but more than half of it was still missing. The whole piece had been crumpled so firmly and ruthlessly that the stitches had come loose in one corner, and the wrinkles in the fabric wouldn’t disappear, even after Arvid had tried to flatten it with her hands several times.

  She had to swallow when she saw that the white fabric had a dried bloodstain. Loke must have pressed it together with the needle and hurt himself, but she didn’t understand why he had done that.

  Had he been angry? But Arvid knew Loke when he was angry. He would have expressed his anger openly. She looked at the picture, the house, the tower, all the small, colored details and remembered the story that Loke had told her.

  I imagine that each thread conceals the scar a little more, and sometimes I feel better then, he had said. Then she remembered something else, and the thought sent a cold shiver down her spine: Grief makes me helpless.

  The evening she had sent Loke away she thought her words had left him untouched. But what if this wasn’t true? Was it really possible that she had hurt him, and that his silence and his quiet retreat had been helplessness? At first glance, it was inconceivable. But Arvid had hurt Loke before without meaning to.

  There was one thing Arvid had learned since she had come to Sölunnir: Someone that didn’t mean anything to you couldn’t hurt you. If you loved someone, however, each and every hurtful word was like a stab in your heart.

  As Arvid came to the main gate shortly after, Byleist was about to see his mother off.

  “Wait!” Arvid shouted, panting, because she had run the entire way. Byleist, Naal and the guards turned around with astonished faces.

  “I’ll come with you,” Arvid gasped breathlessly as she arrived at them and slowed her pace. She was wrapped in cloak and gloves and had made Desrei hastily pack her provisions, even though she didn’t know how long her journey would be.

  “That’s out of the question,” said Naal and measured Arvid with a hostile look. “Your life is tied to my son’s. I won’t allow you to put it in danger in any way.”

  “Loke is already out there anyway,” Arvid said, “and in case you have forgotten, my life depends on his, just like his on mine.”

  “That’s hardly the same thing,” snapped Naal. “Loke has great power. Power you could only
dream of.”

  “And you could only dream of the power I have,” Arvid retorted angrily. “I am a goddess! I could turn this gate to ashes while you’d still be trying to light a candle!”

  “Stop!” Byleist interfered forcefully. “Arvid, do you even know where my mother is going?”

  “To Hel,” said Arvid. “At least I hope so, because it may be of great importance that we visit her, since Loke can’t.”

  “Now it’s suddenly ‘we’!” sneered Naal. “I don’t see why you even interfere. It is enough if one of us seeks out Hel. First you didn’t want anything to do with the letter. I almost had to beg you to take a look at it.”

  “I know!” cried Arvid. She took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes, you are right,” she said then, “I didn’t want to know what the letter said because… a week ago I swore myself to stay away from Loke and everything that has to do with him.”

  “That would probably be better,” hissed Naal.

  “Wait,” Byleist interfered again. “What do you mean, you wanted to stay away?”

  Arvid hesitated. “I… asked him to leave me alone. Forever,” she said haltingly. “We had… a few problems. I rejected him and… I told him that… I wanted nothing more to do with him.”

  Suddenly there was silence. Both Byleist and Naal looked at her silently. Arvid swallowed. She was not proud of what she had done, but what happened couldn’t be undone. She had been blinded by pain. She had been so blind that she had made the same mistake as the whole world out there that thought Loke wasn’t capable of any feelings except anger, hatred, malice and gloating.

  “May I ask why you did that?” Byleist asked softly.

  “It’s hard to explain,” Arvid said, and stared at the ground. “Sometimes he came to me, then he pushed me away again. It hurt and… I just had no more strength left for his games. I was… at the end. I was convinced that he couldn’t care less about me.”

  “He does care about you,” replied Byleist excitedly. “You don’t know how he was before you came here.”

  “How could I know?” Arvid asked, half desperate, half angry. “I’ve only known Loke—no, this whole world—for one year!”

  “I know,” Byleist said, then he sighed deeply. “Then believe me when I tell you that he cares a lot about you.”

  “I do,” whispered Arvid, “and I regret what I did. I just… can’t make it undone.”

  Again there was silence, but then Byleist nodded, resigned. “I understand,” he said, then he turned to Naal. “She’s coming with you, Mother. You better hurry. I,” he turned to the castle gate, “will go looking for Loke with a few people.”

  Arvid started. “Didn’t you say you don’t know where he is?”

  “After what you’ve just told me, I believe I know. There is a place he visits when he’s feeling down.”

  “Let us go then,” Naal said indignantly. “It’s getting late.”

  “Wait,” Arvid said quickly.

  Byleist, who had already turned away, stopped and looked at her questioningly.

  “If you find Loke,” Arvid said, “then please tell him that I’m sorry… and that I love him.”

  “If I find him,” Byleist said softly and smiled, “you should tell him yourself. From me it’s not worth much.”

  The descent down to the Black Waters where Hel lived was long and exhausting. Naal told Arvid that they would arrive late and stay there for the night. Apart from a few words about their way, the old giantess was extremely taciturn.

  After they had passed through some large vaulted caves, they followed a stony path that led down into a funnel-shaped cavity, like a spiral. It was scary to descend into such a gaping hole, but when the terrain became more and more steep and darkness surrounded them, a series of bright, reddish star lamps suddenly appeared in the darkness in front of them. Arvid realized that it was a staircase, an infinitely long, winding staircase. It led zigzagging down a steep rock wall. To its side, a gigantic, pitch-black cave opened up.

  It was an arduous journey. The steps were built for giants, so that Arvid had to jump more than she could walk. After a few hours her knees and ankles hurt, but she gritted her teeth and followed after Naal. Twice they came to small sources with ice-cold, clear water where they could drink and take a short rest, but again Naal remained silent. Once Arvid tried to talk to her about the letter and the mysterious shard, but Naal harshly let her know that she knew nothing about it.

  Finally, their path became flatter and the temperatures slightly warmer. From somewhere a loud noise could be heard.

  Was this the Black Waters?

  Shortly after Arvid saw the river. The stairs had now turned into a graded, bumpy path and led between huge, sharp crags. Diagonally in front of them rushing and roaring water broke out of a dark hole in the rock and plunged far down into the depths. The river was not as big as Arvid had imagined it, but the current was strong and fast.

  They followed the river hour after hour. When they finally saw a glint of light in front of them, Arvid could feel every bone in her body. Her legs felt numb, and her arms were hurting because she constantly had to cling somewhere, in order not to slip on the wet, slippery ground.

  “There’s Hel’s house.” Naal pointed in the direction of the lights. “It’s not far.”

  Arvid nodded, exhausted, as she continued dragging herself over the rocky ground. In the end she had to force herself to make every step, but then they were finally there.

  The house was lit by a variety of reddish star lamps and consisted entirely of stone. It had been built into the gap under a huge, overhanging rock. Arvid could only see one window, next to the door, that seemed unnaturally large and was black and unadorned. The dwelling didn’t look too inviting, nevertheless Arvid didn’t hesitate to follow Naal as she walked up to it and knocked vigorously.

  Nothing moved.

  Naal knocked again, but Hel didn’t seem to be home.

  “She must be sitting down at the Black Waters,” said Naal. “I suppose we’ll have to go look for her, won’t we?”

  Arvid had to suppress a groan. She felt so tired, but she didn’t want to complain after she had insisted on accompanying Naal.

  They walked past the house, and behind it the flat ground ended. A scree fell steeply down toward the rushing water, forcing them to climb between the boulders and sharp-edged stone chips. After a while Arvid noticed that the dark rock had glittering, colored inclusions here and there. They looked like crystals. The closer they got to the water, the more numerous they became.

  They had to follow the water a long way downstream, before they finally could make out a hunched figure, who was sitting on the edge of the river and seemed to look into it.

  “Hel!” called Naal.

  Hel glanced up and raised her hand, but immediately looked down into the depths of the water again.

  “Where is my father?” she asked as they reached her. Arvid tried to figure out what Hel was looking at so intently. She couldn’t see anything, although the river was wider here and the current less rapid.

  “We don’t know,” Naal answered with a sigh. “Byleist went looking for him. He hasn’t been in Sölunnir in over a week.”

  “I understand,” Hel said flatly.

  “What’s the meaning of this letter, Hel?” asked Naal. “Why should Loke seek you out so desperately? What is this shard you write about?”

  For a while Hel remained silent, but then she said, “I suppose Arvid was able to see through my illusion. I hope you have not told anyone else about the contents of the letter.”

  “Just Byleist,” said Naal.

  “I’ve found something that my father lost centuries ago. Look.” Hel reached out, pointing to a spot in the river in front of her. The black water was rather low and clear here, but the spray made it hard to
see anything.

  “I see nothing at all,” said Naal impatiently, but Arvid looked on. A shard, Hel had written. Whether it was a kind of crystal? A piece of jewelry maybe, or a gem?

  Then suddenly she discovered something glittery at the bottom of the river. It was tiny. Arvid couldn’t tell why, but she immediately knew that it was what Hel had found.

  “I see it,” she said, “but I don’t know what it is. I believe it’s a stone, a small black or brown one… Maybe it’s dark red.”

  “Actually it’s a soul gem,” Hel said. “Soon the current will carry it into the depths of the earth, where not even I can follow it. I’ve been watching its way down the river for more than a day and have neither slept nor eaten. This stone is of unimaginable value.”

  “Why didn’t you just retrieve it, Hel?” asked Naal blankly. “Instead, you send a messenger to Sölunnir and almost give us a shock. He couldn’t stop repeating how urgent the message was.”

  “It was urgent,” Hel said, and raised her head. Her eyes were as empty and dark as ever. “But it’s Loke whose help I need. To even touch this stone could corrupt my mind—and yours as well.”

  “My goodness, it’s just a stone!” sighed Naal. “Can it really be so hard to fish a stone out of the water?”

  Hel turned back to the water. “You never experienced the influence of a soul gem, Naal,” she said. “Even a pure, homogeneous stone can be a huge burden when there is a discord between the gem and the wearer’s soul. This stone here is of such complex and divided nature that you could just as well try to swallow hot coals.”

  Naal was silent. For a while the noise of the river was the only sound that could be heard.

  “What about me?” Arvid asked suddenly. “Could I pick up the stone?”