“Name,” growled Trav. “Start. With. Your. Fucking. Name.”
“So stubborn,” sighed the old god. “I hope it serves you better than it did Loki. Fine, I have truly been known by many names and titles, but as you have pointed out, the last of my consciousness has been sustained by you. I know you far better than you know me at this point. The name you would best know me by is Odin.”
“I see.” Trav hadn’t exactly been a scholar back on Earth, but he had a good memory. It wasn’t like the name of the father of the Norse gods had been obscure. In fact, now he felt stupid. He’d literally lived on Asgard for years now as a slave but had never recognized the name of the world he’d been imprisoned on until now.
Odin nodded. “Yes, I see that you do. Time is short. I need to make this quick, and I have much to say. This will probably be the last time I am ever able to speak to you like this.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m dead, or at least, about to be! All things come to an end, boy. The fact I was able to make it this far to pass on my knowledge to you was only through great sacrifices and a bit of luck on my part.”
“What happened?” asked Trav.
“Second Ragnarok.”
The chill that Trav got was more due to echoes from his borrowed memories and second-hand knowledge than any half-remembered mythology from Earth. He got the point, though. “All right. Talk.”
“Good. You are my adopted son in every way that matters. I will die, but I have chosen you to carry on my legacy.”
“Why me?” Trav crossed his arms.
“I thought you were going to let me talk.”
“Sure, sure.”
Odin harrumphed and continued, “I chose you because there was nobody else. Or at least, my auguries told me that you were the best option for my goals. Reaching you would be risky, but traveling to a specific time and place would allow me to find the best candidate to accept this birthright—you! Before you ask, I will answer—I did not bring you to this world, and I had nothing to do with that. Instead, I took advantage of your transition as a doorway, using the last of my energy to attach my spirit to your soul.”
Trav thought that sounded fairly disturbing, but realized he could sense Odin’s sincerity. He also reasoned that their link probably went both ways, so Odin would likely be aware of what other things Trav would want to know. He kept his mouth shut and listened.
Odin gave him a look of approval and said, “Fire is good, but is vastly better when tempered by wisdom and action. You truly were the best choice. I am content with this.”
The old god slowly shook his head. “Endings are strange, even to one such as I who will never truly, completely die. At least I am able to pass on my knowledge. You are my adopted son, family in every way that matters. You did not choose this burden, but now that we can properly have this talk, and before we can continue, you must make your choice.
“If you choose my mantle, you will face great hardship and danger. You will inherit old enemies and make new ones simply due to who you are.
“If you reject this burden, I will simply die, or at least fade away. The knowledge that I built over a thousand lifetimes will vanish with me, and the world will be both lighter and darker for it. Don’t be mistaken, boy. I value power, knowledge, not good or evil. If you choose to follow my path, you will know terrible things, and will learn more of the same.”
Without being told anything further, Trav understood. He truly grasped what was happening, that this was a test of sorts too. This was a choice between living or dying. Back on Earth, before Trav had been a slave, it wouldn’t have seemed like much of a choice at all, but now, he knew there were worse things than death. While he thought, he met Odin’s single eye with his own, and saw past the old god’s persona, recognizing the ancient, inhuman being that truly stood before him.
Did he really want to accept Odin’s legacy? There were sure to be strings attached. He didn’t want to die either, that was for certain. If he rejected Odin and returned to his body from wherever he was now, he and Narnaste would still be in immediate danger.
Despite knowing what a serious burden it would probably be, Trav thought about the other aspects of accepting Odin’s offer. The Kin monster that killed Beth still definitely needed to be put into the ground. Trav had to admit that the rune knowledge in his head was interesting, and he sensed that the wanderlust and curiosity that he’d felt his entire life was resonating with the presence of the god standing before him.
Finally, he asked, “I’m going to stay me, right? Like, I’m not going to just become you?”
Odin made another of his smiles with no humor. “If I could, I would take your life in a heartbeat, boy. I like you, son, but I want to live too. Luckily for you, I do not have that power—but then again, if I did, we would not be talking like this in the first place. The best I can do for you and for me is to attach pieces of myself to your soul to give brief guidance from time to time.”
Trav frowned. “Then why do we even need to have this conversation?” He almost asked how he could trust anything Odin said, but then remembered their link. There would be no lies in this conversation.
“You may have been born only human, but you have a sharp mind, lad. The crux of it comes down to my blessing. Just like how you claimed your pet, but only her choice truly bonded her to you, I marked you, but you must choose to accept my legacy.”
It took Trav a second to figure out that Odin had meant Narnaste when he’d said, “pet.” That single throwaway comment also helped him realize what had truly happened between himself and the beautiful, scarred Kin woman. “So what about my lack of power?”
“You are not a god, well, not yet. It is your responsibility to discover how you will grow my legacy—if you accept it.”
“No more freebies, huh?” muttered Trav. He thought about it some more. “What is the price? There is always a price.”
“Indeed there is, and you have just proven yourself worthy of hearing it.”
Trav frowned. “What does that mean? This part was a test too?”
“You know it was a test. We are inside your head, so I can see you thinking. You have merely proven yourself capable of shouldering my mantle.”
“What does that mean?”
“Think about it. You will figure it out over time, I am sure. The price for my legacy is to carry on my work. You already have a spirit, a soul that corresponds to mine or we would not be speaking—none of this would have been possible. But if you accept this birthright, as I already said, you will inherit allies and enemies, and all of my knowledge, but also my drive—to learn, to rule, and to transcend!” The old man growled the last word.
“Transcend?” asked Trav.
“Yes. To become more. To see the other side. To know the unknowable. To collect the greatest secrets of the universe! Boy, you have already begun! You bear an emberstone eye!” Odin lifted his eyepatch and showed what was underneath. Resting in the eye socket was a glinting silver object, and Trav recognized it was very similar to the red emberstone eye he’d placed in his own head.
“Emberstone? You too?”
Odin chuckled. “Boy, the depth of your ignorance still prevents you from knowing how truly ignorant you are. Emberstone is the lifeblood of Asgard, a tool of the gods. You will know more in time, but emberstone is tied to the Veil Gates and the rest of the Continuum! Only the gods or those touched by the gods can tolerate emberstone. The eye that I helped you fashion is a tool that can shake the heavens. You do not even know what rests in your head!”
Trav’s eyebrows came together. “Well, that’s because this is the first time in three years that you have spoken in full sentences!” he snapped. “I’m not an idiot. The fact that emberstone powers glyphs and magic just by being near is a big clue—that and only I could touch it.” He sensed the darkness around them growing thin. “I can figure all this shit out later, though. What else did you have to tell me?”
Odin frowned and said, “Yes, ye
s, I am not great at maintaining a mortal perception of time. The price for my mantle is portions of your personality becoming stronger over time, more in line with the aspects of my divinity. You must accept this before we continue.”
“A hard sell,” growled Trav. He really gave the matter some thought, trying to remember everything he could about the myths of Odin from Earth. The king of the Norse gods had been sort of mysterious, right? Always wandering, pursuing his own, secret affairs. It wasn’t a lot to go on. But ultimately, Trav needed to avenge Beth and to do that he needed to stay alive and seize every bit of power that he could.
Finally, he grated, “I accept.”
“Good. Then I can burden you with truth that I have not told another soul. Asgard is in danger. Actually, all of the Continuum is.”
“What?” Trav wasn’t sure how to even start processing that.
“Asgard and the other realms connected to the World Tree already have their fair share of dangers. The Veil itself can destroy worlds. But, boy, the force that we met during Second Ragnarok, it is not dead. And over time, it will find its way here.”
“What does that even mean?”
“With what I have told you, I have unlocked seals on my memory. As you grow in power, you will understand further. Some of my memories must be relayed in their raw form, and you are not yet complex or strong enough to withstand them yet. Learning everything I know all at once will kill you.
You will receive pieces of my knowledge as you grow.” Odin looked slightly apologetic. “This is a great deal to burden one such as you, one completely new to real power, but there is no choice. They come, and there will be no stopping them unless you tread my path and walk it well.”
“Well, that is some unclear, cryptic-ass bullshit. Why not just say, ‘The here is now, and now is here?’”
Odin grinned. “That is actually quite good! You should remember that one to tell mortals if you survive to live as long as I have.”
Trav could tell the old god was needling him at this point. He could feel the darkness around them shrinking, and could sense that their time to talk was coming to a close. There were many more things he wanted to ask Odin, but holding all the god’s important memories meant he would probably know everything in time—if he survived that long.
Odin smiled genuinely. “See, that is why I’m glad I was able to choose you. It would have been a shame for you to die on this world after only a few months, as was your original destiny. You have potential. I will help you activate the memory shrine that you found—that knowledge is at the front of your mind now. My parting advice is to search for more memory shrines. This one feels somewhat poor, but they will all offer assistance. I was one of my kind to prepare for this day.”
“What exactly am I even supposed to be doing?”
“What do you want to do? This life, my drive, it is yours now, and your burden to bear!” Odin laughed. “Give them hell, boy! You now have my mark, and ownership of my darkest knowledge. Make sure to ask the shrine guardian for a signet ring, and use it on your little pet.
“That Kin woman, she would have gladly killed you before, but now she will gut your enemies instead. Treat your pet Kin, those loyal to you well, lad. We did them a great disservice, possibly greater than was done to your kind.”
Odin began to fade, and Trav grunted in frustration. “I have more questions than answers now!”
“Life is hard, son. Fight!” Odin thundered.
The darkness around them turned upside down, and Trav suddenly found himself back in the temple, facing a glowing, angry, see-through, armored woman. Now he knew what the apparition was, though everything had changed. Trav was still himself, but he felt a depth that hadn’t been there before.
He needed a plan, but first, he needed to give the scary armored lady the passkey she’d asked for so he and Narnaste wouldn’t get fried.
Chapter 10
Trav fixed the armored woman with a steely glare. “You said your name was Amain, right?”
“Correct. This site is the domain of Vanir. Provide valid passcode or be eradicated.”
Strange knowledge bubbled at the forefront of Trav’s mind, and in a different language, he rattled off:
“Over hills and mountains distant, I seek the knowledge of a star.
If you stand before my way, I will destroy your body and soul.
Move aside or face the wrath of heaven, forked spears of light to burn you to ash.
The might of stars at my disposal, destruction is a truth of life, move aside.”
In the language he’d spoken, the words he’d said rhymed and had flowed almost like a poem. Beside him, Narnaste gasped. Trav ignored her.
After standing still for a couple seconds, the lavender apparition seemed visibly shocked, taking a step back and briefly bowing. “Greetings, Lord. I have run additional tests based on your answer and verified your identity—apologies for my rudeness. Over the ages, this site has been attacked many times despite its remote location. Recently, one of the large local fauna—a troll—has assaulted this site multiple times with large stones after I eradicated one of its kin.”
The information about the troll was interesting. “Do you know if there are any more trolls down here?”
“I do not have the capability of scanning the area, but I have only had encounters with one specimen over the last standard year.”
“Oh, okay, I think I killed that one.”
“Acknowledged, Lord.”
Now Trav knew the purpose of the memory shrines—caches of the gods. This one was not directly affiliated with Odin, but the wily old man had hedged his bets, placing his mark on every temple in Asgard. It was time to find out what secrets this building held—Trav’s knowledge still had gaping holes, and he wasn’t sure how directly helpful this location would be. “What assistance can you offer?” he asked.
The construct, Amain, knocked her spear against the floor, and a wave of lighted runes spread out until they hit the wall. She stood still and said, “Processing.” Then she answered, “Power and raw material are low, but I can offer several basic items at your request. I can also give you appropriate clothing for the era, surrounding culture and climate, and a basic-level Aesir weapon.”
“Basic level?”
“Yes, Lord. This memory shrine is remote and was not intended specifically for your use. I was placed at this location due to the nearby emberstone. It was unlikely but possible that the Aesir or Vanir might happen by. If you request emberstone, I apologize, but I do not have much to spare.”
“That’s fine, just give me what you have. In fact, I’d like to take everything I can. For basic items, I need a pack, basic traveling gear, a change of clothes or two, a change of clothes for the Kin woman here, and anything else I can get for a long journey.”
The woman paused, thinking, and with his unlocked knowledge, Trav knew she was accessing her memory banks, doing calculations. The glowing woman was an admin spirit, like the magical version of an artificial intelligence. Memory shrines were like rune-driven computers created by the gods, failsafes in case of Ragnarok, the end of the world. The gods had probably never suspected that they would have two Ragnarok events, both far off-world.
The AI, Amain, finally looked up and said, “I can do that for you, Lord. Is there anything else? If not, I will need to power down to conserve energy.”
“Why? Isn’t there emberstone nearby?”
“Yes, but generating resources is very energy-intensive, and I will need to recharge my reserves.”
“I understand,” said Trav. “What about a weapon for my companion here?” He pointed at the wide-eyed Narnaste. “Something simple would be fine.”
“Would a steel seax suffice?”
“Yes. Oh, and I need a signet ring and a medallion too. What they are made of doesn’t matter.”
“Sized for your wear?” asked Amain.
“Yes.”
“So be it.”
The entire room flashed brilliant wh
ite, and Trav covered his eyes with an arm. After a few moments, the room was mostly dark again like it had been before, except for a single, glowing rune in the corner, providing a bit of light.
“Thank you, Amain,” he said. The light seemed to flicker in response. Trav walked to another corner of the room where a pile of items had appeared. On the way, he heard a thump and turned to see that Narnaste had fallen to her knees. “What are you doing?”
Narnaste slowly lifted her head and said, “You have truly returned. One of the High Masters has come back to us. Thank you. I believed, or at least I tried to, but I never—” She trailed off.
Trav didn’t know how to respond to that, so he gruffly said, “Get up and come over here. Let’s get geared up. I need to ask you some more questions—I think I might have a plan.”
“Anything, Lord.”
“Don’t call me that. Call me Trav.”
“Anything you say, Lord Trav.”
The dirty man sighed and said, “Just tell me more about this hidden town of the Faithful you mentioned before. Also, where is the other memory shrine that you know of.”
Trav used his sigil lantern for more light and began examining the loot that Amain had left for him. He almost wept when he saw the new clothes. Rustic or not—clothes!
He changed, listening carefully to Narnaste, and a detailed plan began to grow in his head.
***
The mental pull from the memory shrine had disappeared. Newly dressed and armored, Trav looked down at himself as he left the temple behind. Now he wore rough but serviceable clothing, looking somewhat like the best-dressed humans on Asgard he’d ever seen. A thin, chainmail vest provided some protection on top of his plain tunic. He’d received a cloak and a shirt that could go over the armor too, but he didn’t need them now and had stored them in his new pack.
The pack itself looked like leather from the outside, but it was not an ordinary tool. It could easily expand to fit more inside. Narnaste had insisted on carrying it. At her side, she carried her new weapon, a steel seax, the blade’s straight blade safely held in a thick leather sheath.
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