First Fire: The First Guardian Novella (The Guardian Series)

by S Lawrence

  “Soulmate,” Asger whispers the word. “What does it mean, exactly? And what do ye mean by four?” Morrigan’s look of joy made him sure it had to be a good thing. Within him, his dragon purred. Soulmate was beginning to sound very good indeed.

  “It means, Guardian, an eternity together this life and the next. Your souls will always find each other. You’ve been told the Berserker is a living breathing thing, it also has a soul.” There was a tiny bit of envy in Loki’s voice. Asger imagines their long lives and the pain of being alone for thousands of years; suddenly he is grateful to the magic. As soon as the thought entered his head, he feels a gentle caress. Morrigan and Loki both swing their gazes around also feeling the magic. Morrigan's eyes twinkle in happiness and Loki’s takes on a bright gleam as he clasps his hands in anticipation. Again, Asger takes to heart the apprehension that courses through him at the look on Loki’s face. They talk for hours, making their plan, then parting ways. They decide to keep their distance from each other so Odin’s suspicion will not grow. Morrigan warns Loki to be very careful of the Valkyrie. She will be watching them all but would keep a closer eye on him, wanting to catch him in one of his schemes.

  As he fades away, the Trickster laughs out, “I can handle her.” Asger locks eyes with Morrigan, he detects his worry reflecting back at him. He turns as he runs his fingers through the leaves of the tree; a silent thank you for her aid, before racing away, changing mid-stride and taking flight in one smooth motion. Morrigan grins. This is the man for her daughter. He will bring her back to them all. She changes, flaps her wings and lands for a moment in the branches of the Tree of Life. She contemplates the magic and all lives connected to it and then she flies to her mother’s home.

  Weeks pass, blood and death follow Ylva. She is aware of what the Berserker is doing. She realizes she should fight it. Ylva’s heartache and shame, following her father’s death, keep her hiding within. Ylva taught Asger about the cave in his mind. She was able to teach him because she has one in hers, it is where she lives now. Long ago, she saw the beasts blue eyes staring out at her from the darkness, as a child recognizing its hunger. Her mother taught her to contain it, to control her power or it would control her. Her mother had been right. She was trapped, it would not let her out. She cringes at the destruction happening at her hand. She covers her ears at the screams that seem to echo in the cave.

  The Berserker looks at the blood dripping from her fingers, her nails were long like claws, bringing them to her mouth, tongue curling out to lap it up. So much freedom, she had sat for so long, waiting for its moment. Ylva’s other side watched the ritual and saw the walls begin to crumble.

  Stupid girl did not realize what that meant and now she sits in the cave. There she will stay. I will not go back. I love the blood and killing and I want her magic and power. I’m too strong for her, for him, for them all. She is sitting on the chest of the man who thought to stop her today; it is his blood that coats her fingers. Her nails, sharpened to claws, had torn his flesh as her magic had held him in place. He is not dead so terror laces the blood, making it taste all the better. His eyes roll back in his head as she sticks her finger tips into his wounds.

  Suddenly, she whips her head to the north, to the mountains, power is calling. It angers her, and as she looks down at the man below, an evil smile graces her beautiful face. He screams, knowing his death is inevitable in her eyes. She does not make it quick but it does not take long until his screams die in his throat. She is pleased. The man has the faint scent of a little girl from the village. She does not pity him, he chose his path, but he just did not realize it would lead him to her.

  Standing, she moves away, head tilting, she studies the power tugging at her. Looking inside, the berserker sees the woman paying attention. The woman is worried not for herself but for the one the power comes from. Worried not for them but for the one the power belongs to and this holds the interest of the berserker. She strides from the camp, leaving flames and destruction in her wake. It is time to destroy the power and its hold over them.

  Asger circles Ragnhild, thinking this is a stupid plan. Ylva, nor the berserker, will believe he would be beaten by this woman. Flexing his shoulders, he has to make this look real. “Are ye ready woman?”

  He did not like the smirk that grew on her face. “Oh, I have been ready for a thousand years. I have been wiping that look off the face of big strong men since Odin made me. You look at me and see a beautiful woman. I pray you look differently at the one you claim to want.” Humour and a touch of anger lace her words, and Asger is ashamed, he has done exactly what she said.

  He is surrounded by strong women and still, he has automatically thought he was stronger. “Forgive me, Ragnhild. I know better. Please come and beat some sense into me.” He grins as he motions her forward.

  She throws her head back, her laugh echoing through the mountains. “This is going to be fun. Remember Guardian, you asked for this.”

  Before he could blink, she is on him. Her fist connecting with his jaw and snapping his head back. The massive wolf that she rides into battle, sits to one side, filling the night with howls. Asger stumbles back and she hits him again and again. In moments, his face is dripping blood. He staggers, shaking his head to get his bearings. When he next looks at her, it is with dragon eyes blazing. Launching forward, he catches her with a uppercut that lifts her from the ground. Moving with his supernatural speed, he is on her before she hits the dirt. And so it goes, the sound of flesh pounding flesh fills the air. It seems like forever when he suddenly realizes she is close. Grabbing at Ragnhild, pulling her close in a grapple, he leans in and whispers, “She is near.”

  The Valkyrie nods and proceeds to launch the next part of the plan. She beats him to the ground and pulls her spear. Her wolf circles close getting ready to take him to the afterlife. “You have fought well, Guardian, but the time has come.” Her voice rings clear, and she raises her spear. A roar cuts through the night as she whirls to face the monster in the darkness. Wolf moves to her side as the Berserker strides into the light of the fire. All Asger can think is that she is magnificent - a bringer of death, a dark goddess. Her blue eyes are shining and narrowed in anger.

  “His power is mine! Mine to destroy. It will be me who sends him to the afterlife,” the Berserker screeches. Her voice is gleeful just thinking of it, and Asger is abruptly very apprehensive about this plan. Sliding back a bit, eyes on all three of them, he calls his dragon and shifts the pain of it minimal. When the shift complete, the bronze dragon stands, flexing his wings, eyes focused on Ylva. Magic fills the clearing, beating at him, as Danu, Morrigan, Loki and Odin shift into sight; the spell is already flowing from their lips. The sound that breaks from Ylva is a promise of pain.

  “I will let you kill him and sever the link. I do not wish to bind you,” Odin whispers to her in a conspiring voice, sending lightning cracking through the air, hitting the ground beside Asger. Loki slides his eyes to Morrigan, as Asger is forced to shift back by Morrigan’s magic. One side of his body is badly burned from the heat of the lightning. Odin does not offer Ylva freedom or even help. He wants the Berserker; he chooses power over his granddaughter.

  Inside her cave, Ylva cries out. Straightening, she had thought he would be fine. With the dragon, the Berserker would not be able to best him. Now, her own grandfather threatens to take him from her. Their rage begins to build. Her own mother is helping Odin. Loki, who had always shown her nothing but love was also betraying her. Even grandmother was going to let Odin take him from her.

  The berserker wants only freedom and believes him but Ylva knows Odin too well. A growl rumbles up her throat and blue eyes move from one to the other. She forces her magic out through her own body. Those daring to cage her in this cave stumble under her power. It is like a tidal wave. Asger cries out as the power forces him to his knees. Guilt pounds at her, but still she pours the magic out until she forces her body to turn and flee. She stands tall in her cave and decides it is time to
leash the beast.

  Asger is flat on his back, her power leveling him. Turning his head to the side, he sees the huge wolf also on the ground, breathing shallowly. Just beyond him was Ragnhild, hands gripping her spear on her knees. He notices her head hanging limply down and she earns more of his respect, even unconscious she kept hold of her weapon. He hisses in pain as Morrigan lays her hand on him, drawing his eyes.

  “We must go. Quickly!” She looks at the others and Asger sees the worry on their faces. Except Odin, where Asger sees greedy excitement. Morrigan turns to her mother for help, as blackness creeps into his vision and he is lost to it.

  He wakes in bed, the softness hurting him, and refuses to open his eyes. The smell of burnt meat reaches his nose and he understands that meat is him. If he looks, the pain will multiply, so he squeezes his eyes tightly shut.

  “I see you are awake,” Loki’s voice comes from the foot of the bed. Steeling his nerves, Asger slits his eyes but keeps them focused on Loki’s gray ones. “I’m glad he did not quite kill you, Guardian. I think my niece was right, you are the link to get Ylva back.”

  Sweat breaks out across Asger’s trembling body. The pain, oh, the pain. Morrigan moves into his line of sight. “I’m so sorry Asger. My father…,” her voice trembles with her shame.

  Raising his good hand, he lays it gently on her cheek. His voice is rough and breaks as he speaks. “None of this is your fault. If anything we all underestimated him, underestimated his greed for power.” Her tears fall on his face. “No tears, my lady.”

  Loki clears his throat, drawing their gazes. “We have an idea that might save you. It might heal you but it will be excruciating.”

  Asger finally eases his gazes to his ruined left side, he had been right, seeing it was worse. The color drains from his face and chest, as nausea rolls through his stomach. His hand grips the covers as he tries to catch his breath. His entire left side looks like an animal cooked on the spit. He is ruined. Swallowing hard a few times, he builds his courage, “What is this plan?”

  Loki grins. “The great tree likes you. She loves Ylva, who has long cared for the land around her. But the Berserker is destroying every living thing in her path. Morrigan says the tree gave you a gift. That is an extreme honor. Even as you lay unconscious, tendrils of her magic have whispered through the room, she checks on you. The Tree of Life believes, like we do, that you are the way to bring Ylva back. We have decided your best chance is to lie within her roots, wrap you in her magic. Her roots grow from this plane to the next, and on your side, they tap into the lines of magic that crisscross your world. The ley lines join all magics from all living things. The problem is, you are so severely injured that we cannot sift you there. As you know, the journey is long. You cannot change to your dragon form either. So…,” he drifts off, turning his eyes to the window and Asger looks with him. Outside, lying down on the hillside, is a monstrous wolf, one that makes Ragnhild’s seem like a pup. “That is my son Fenrir. He has offered to carry you to the tree but it will be painful beyond what you can imagine.”

  Asger flinches as the wolf howls, red eyes looking right at him. A gravelly voice enters his head, ‘I will get you there as fast as I can, Guardian. Ylva is one of very few souls I care about.’ Asger presses his lips together and gives a curt nod. His heart begins to pound as Loki moves to his side. Clenching his teeth so tight it feels as if they might break off, he still cannot keep the scream from breaking free as Loki lifts him from the bed. Danu’s cool magic eases him slightly. Bright white light dances through his vision as they reach Fenrir. Loki places him on the wolf’s back, which is larger than the bed he had been on. His hand digs in, gripping the fur, Fenrir’s red eyes lock with his as he looks back over his shoulder. Sweat drips from his body as he trembles, his muscles tighten as he nods. Afraid to speak, knowing if he opens his mouth his screams will fill the air. Fenrir begins a slow walk to the west, Loki moving at their side. It is only a short while before pain pulls Asger into darkness.

  “Now, my son. Run!” Fenrir dashes away, his huge strides eating up the ground. He is panting, head hanging when he arrives at the great tree. His father is waiting having sifted there. Loki lifts Asger in his arms and turns to the tree. “We have brought him in hopes that you can help heal him.”

  The Tree of Life shivers, branches dipping low, Loki looks to Fenrir nodding his head. Using his massive paws, he digs a massive hole and Loki places Asger in it. Roots begin to move, covering him, shielding the guardian. All those connected to the guardian hear the weeping. The whole planet cries at his pain. Morrigan and Danu look at each other. They are not the only ones who have fallen for the handsome warrior. Fenrir howls at the earth magic, his animal side connecting with the Mother. One last look at Asger before he turns, his father cautions, “Be very careful, son.”

  Looking at his father, he nods, his is a dangerous task. They had realized that his magic is a little wild, like the dragon. They hope he can lead the Berserker on a merry chase, buying Asger some time. He senses the magic seep in him from the ground, a blessing from the tree and mother. He is instantly revived and ready to run. Yipping excitedly, he bounds away.

  Loki stands for a moment, watching his son, until he shifts to the other realm. Looking back to Asger, leaning on the tree brazenly, he murmurs, “I hope you are all right and he is the way back to her. We are risking much. Hide him well, my lady. Odin searches for him and cannot find him here.” A single leaf floats to his shoulder and he smiles. Pushing off her enormous trunk, he strides away and then sifts.

  Appearing in Valhalla, he strides toward the hall where he is sure his brother will be. He pauses as he sees Morrigan sitting at her father's feet.

  “Surely you understand, Father. I woke the dragon, brought him from the old world. I could not then abandon him.” She waits for Odin to speak. My brother’s eye travels over her face studying her, trying to find her deceit. Looking to me because of his suspicions include me but cannot figure out exactly what we are lying about. “I only shifted enough of my magic to try to save his life,” Morrigan’s voice rang true. “If I had done any more than that, Ylva’s would have leveled us all.”

  “And you, brother, what do you have to say?” Odin asks. I school my face before speaking.

  “Only, that we did not know of your plan to kill the guardian. How could we have had some plan to go against you, All Father? I just wish I had thought of it. It was brilliant, if only she had not been so greedy to destroy him herself.” Morrigan’s eyes twinkled slightly as she looks at me.

  One last look at them both and Odin stands, unhappy but unable to prove anything. Stomping out of the hall, he pauses, calling out, “No games, brother.”

  I watch as he as he leaves. If only he understood it was all a game. Morrigan moves to my side. I draw her into my arms, pulling her close, kissing her hair and whisper words of care. Out loud I say, “Goodbye niece. If there is any change in your guardian, contact me. We must sever the link.” My eyes flick to Ragnhild, listening and watching from the shadows.

  Morrigan smiles, “I love you, uncle.” She returns to the Vanishing Isle.

  Drawing a breath, I turn, looking directly at the Valkyrie. Yes, it is all a game and now I must plan my next move in case the guardian dies or fails. I had told them that Odin could not be allowed to gain the power and I meant it. I always have a backup plan. I love Ylva in my own way but I will destroy her to keep Odin from gaining that weapon, even if it meant losing Morrigan and Danu. Leaving the hall, I begin to make my plan. Time to go move some pieces around the board.

  She was losing control. Her legs were jerking as the Berserker fought for her body. In an instant, she was back in the cave. She stands tall, proud that she moved them away from those she loved. Anger courses through her at Odin’s betrayal. Her own grandfather, hoping to trap her inside herself. Hoping to put his own leash on the beast. Stupid animal believed his lies. Even now it rages at having lost a chance to kill Asger. Magic flows from her, killing
everything near. Tears burn Ylva’s eyes at the senseless destruction. Her breath catches as she perceives the slight touch of the Tree of Life; it seems like a breeze moving across her skin. The Berserker freezes, eyes narrow, feeling it also. She searches for the source, but it is everywhere, confusing the animal. Ylva is aware of the reason and smiles slightly.

  Another source of power comes into range, it is familiar but different. Her brows crease as she studies it. Eyes brighten as one thought enters her mind. Ylva stifles a cry, worry flooding her body. She recognizes this magic. “Dragon,” the beast whispers in glee. It is happy, thinking to break the link. For an instant, sadness overtakes the Berserker. This sadness intrigues Ylva. She is pondering it when visions of blood and sex bombard her. Gasping, she hears the beast murmur. “Mate.”

  “Mate?” Ylva turns the word over in her mind.

  The Berserker turns her mind to the one who would leash her. “Yes, he would be a good mate. Strong. Powerful. Beautiful. But I will wear no one's leash. I will not go back into the darkness.”

  More images flash through their mind, a mix of things they had both imagined. Their body tingles with excitement. Once again, the magic drifted close and the beast is back focusing on the hunt. Ylva, on the other hand, is making a plan; one that could hopefully save them all. She knew the magic that moves around them, but she hides it behind a high wall. Needing the beast to hunt it, she only prays Fenrir can run as fast as he always boasted. Again, she notes a gentle breeze and sends an image to the Tree, counting on its help. Quickly, she turns her mind back to sex, flooding the beast with every daydream she has ever had while she watched Asger. She fixates on her favorite.

  They had been to battle. Both were covered in blood, but he still saw her, the woman, not just the warrior. They were high up on the mountain as a storm blew in and as lightning crashes around them, they crash together. A tangle of arms and legs, passion pushing them into a frenzy. Teeth nip at her, as he feeds at her neck. His roughened hands greedily clutching at her breast. Her body strains forward as moisture floods her folds. His mouth turns greedy at her nipple, sucking it in deep, using his teeth and then licking away the sting.