The Sons of Animus Letum

by Andrew Whittle

  “No eyes on you,” the strangled voice declared. “You either. You’ll have to stay.”

  Odin quickly began to track the voice. The voice continued to make his rulings, until, as Odin grew close, Odin nearly trampled him.

  “Step back!” the annoyed voice threatened as he turned back to the Lyran.

  However, after seeing the coins in Odin’s eyes, the creature’s tone turned to an excited squeal.

  “I got one!” he cheered. “You’ll come with me.”

  With a quick stab, the creature wrapped his bony hand around Odin’s arm and began eagerly to drag Odin through the maze of bodies.

  Soon, Odin could again hear the soft sound of waves hitting the shore. As the creature, who was my small servant Zyled, led Odin to my dock and boat, I remained unaware of the situation’s gravity.

  “Zyled,” I called in welcome. “Do we have one?”

  “Oh yes, Boatman, sir,” Zyled answered as he dragged Odin closer. “We’ve got one.”

  “It’s been a while,” I joked to Zyled.

  “Over forty moons,” Zyled agreed.

  “Well, bring him here then.”

  As Zyled brought Odin to me, I retrieved four small gems from my waist pouch.

  “For your work,” I said as I placed the gems into Zyled’s small hands. “I trust you can find another.”

  “Of course,” Zyled smiled as he dropped the gems into his pouch on his belt.

  “Off with you then,” I spurred.

  As Zyled quickly left, my attention turned to my guest.

  “You’re a man of a lost offering,” I said with a laugh. “No one pays the Boatman anymore. What’s your name?”

  Still blind to his surroundings, Odin donned a complimentary smile and answered.

  “Well, Odin,” I said, “if you can hold still, I’ll fix those eyes of yours.”

  After he had consented, I reached my right hand over his head and cupped my left in front of his eyes. After a firm knock to the back of his skull, the two silver coins fell easily out of Odin’s eyes and into my left hand. As the coins fell, Odin was rewarded with his vision. He rubbed his eyes and became reacquainted with sight. He watched me turn from him and bring the coins back to my boat. On my right ankle there was a shackle that tethered me to the boat’s bow. After dropping both coins into a slot on the boat, two more chain links were pushed out from the boat’s insides.

  With welcome, I looked on the added length to my chain.

  “Your burial must have been nice,” I said. “Those were some fine silvers. You wouldn’t happen to be from the Throne’s…”

  Before I could finish, my breath, in great awe, was taken from me.

  “Dear, God,” I gasped as I saw the colour of Odin’s eyes. “Your eyes: they’re blue!”

  “Yes, they always have been,” Odin said with a calm nod.

  With a puzzled look, the Lyran leaned over and investigated my eyes.

  “Your eyes,” he said as he pointed to my pupil-less green hue. “Why are they like that?”

  “In that question lays an important answer,” I said. “But in your blues, my great friend, lies the grandest answer.”

  Trying to rein my excitement, I pointed Odin to the water. “Take a new look at yourself.”

  Odin obliged, and after leaning over the water, he was astonished to see his reflection. His eyes were a solid electric blue with no pupil or iris.

  Odin was confused. “I don’t understand. Why are my eyes like this?”

  “In your earth realm,” I explained, “there is an expression that the eyes are the window to the soul. In Animus Letum, that expression is exactly true. The colour of anyone’s eyes here in the second realm is in effect a measurement of that person’s soul.”

  “And blue eyes? What do they mean?”

  I smiled. “They mean, Odin, that you are royalty.”

  Odin was instantly guarded – he knew who reigned in my realm. As his hand moved to his dagger, I was quick to calm his suspicion.

  “Grab an oar,” I said. “I am no enemy.”

  Odin was not convinced of my allegiance.

  “I strongly recommend you get in the boat,” I said as I stocked my hand with an oar. “The sooner we get you across these waters, the better.”

  “And if I don’t?” Odin tested.

  “Son of Serich, trust me now. Your short attendance in this realm has already ensured that hunters are on your trail. Allow me to serve the true house of Animus Letum. Please, get in the boat.”

  Odin did not have the advantage of choice. Time, or rather the lack thereof, was his brother’s enemy. Finally, Odin elected speed, and as he eyed me cautiously, he stepped into the boat.

  “And pull your hood over those eyes,” I said as Odin grabbed an oar. “If we hide those blues we may get across unnoticed.”

  “And if we’re noticed?” Odin asked as he set his oar into the water.

  “Then we,” I predicted as I pushed off the dock, “will be in for a bumpy ride.”

  40

  Understanding the great danger that Odin was in, I held myself in silence as I rowed fervently to the mainland of Animus Letum. Although my mind was racing with the great implications of Odin’s appearance, my priority and great responsibility was to ensure Odin’s safe travel.

  However, after twenty minutes of rowing, my fears became realized.

  After I cursed fate, the arcs of my oar ceased and Odin looked at me in alarm.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “The ride just got bumpy,” I said.

  As Odin immediately stood, searching the seas for signs of danger, I altered the grip on my oar from tool to weapon. There was an eerie silence as we searched, but it would not last long. With a dull thud, my boat’s base suddenly jolted and the water at the port and starboard began to swell.

  “Arm yourself!” I yelled at Odin. “They’re not after me.”

  On cue, two massive serpents, one green and one red, began to rise from the water. As the orange sky glowed off of the serpents’ scales, the two snakes hissed and snapped their massive jaws, spewing their venom as they rose twenty feet out of the water.

  As the massive serpents coiled and flexed their bodies, Odin quickly armed each of his hands with a dagger. I began to swing my oar in Odin’s defence, but the serpents paid no heed to my efforts. Their eyes were set on the bigger game.

  Unfortunately, for the serpents, the game would prove too big.

  As the green serpent stretched back its neck and prepared to strike, Odin launched himself off the boat and plunged his daggers into the snake’s neck. With furious stabs, Odin drove each of his daggers into the serpent’s scales, and as green blood exploded from each wound, Odin climbed the snake like a ladder. As the serpent began to thrash, Odin’s body slammed from side to side, but the serpent’s efforts would not be effective. The numerous knife punctures quickly took their toll, and as the serpent’s bucks slowed, Odin climbed his way to the snake’s crown.

  With my oar, I had kept the red serpent at bay, but as it sensed the wounded hisses expelled from its counterpart, it quickly set its yellow eyes onto Odin. Odin was aware. As he met the red serpent’s eyes, he drove his daggers deep into the green serpent’s skull and then altered the grip on his weapons so that he could control the serpent’s movement. With a seething hiss, the red serpent coiled back like a catapult, but as it launched itself over the boat, Odin twisted his own body and manipulated the green serpent’s head directly into the assault. With a wet crunch, the red serpent’s jagged teeth snapped powerfully into the green serpent’s skull, crushing its bones like a twig. As the green serpent began to sink, the red serpent bucked frantically to unlock its bite, but it was no use. Odin retrieved two more of his daggers, and as the red serpent bit even deeper into green one, Odin plunged his blades deep between the red serpent’s eyes. Odin twisted the blades, roaring his voice as a yellow puss burst from the snake’s eyes. With a final dagger twist, life left the snake’s body, and its m
assive jaw released.

  Eerily, both serpents fell back beneath the sea.

  Standing poised atop the sinking green serpent, Odin allowed the serpent’s crown to sink to sea level and then stepped confidently off the snake’s skull back into my boat.

  I could not hold back my awe. “If there was any doubt that you were of Serich’s blood, let it be quelled now. That, Odin, was near godly.”

  Odin nodded and then reached for his oar.

  I could not miss my opportunity.

  “I think it would be wise of you to allow me to give you what you need,” I said.

  “What I need is a hand,” Odin replied. “Grab your oar, Boatman. Time is not on my brother’s side.”

  “Your brother?” I blurted, unaware of Galian’s demise. “He is with us? He is in Animus Letum?”

  Odin nodded. There was fury in his eyes.

  “Galian’s soul was robbed from the first realm,” he said. “He was taken to the Cauldron.”

  “The Cauldron?” I cried with even more surprise. “Forneus must have been waiting for him.”

  Odin’s sombre eyes affirmed my assumption.

  “You’re going to face him,” I realized. “You’re going to face Forneus.”

  “I am going to face him,” Odin said. “And I am going to kill him.

  My eyes grew wide in the acknowledgment of Odin’s nearly impossible task. I knew and had always known that Serich’s sacrifice would lead to this moment. But mountains always seem more conquerable from afar. I, beside the determined Odin, now stood at the base of a giant. However, in tribute to the great Serich, my heart would honour no choice but to become a partner in Odin’s climb.

  “If you are to embark on this challenge,” I said, “you will need what I offer.”

  “I need to cross this sea,” Odin repeated. “My brother fades more with every moment.”

  “Forneus will not send more of his serpents,” I predicted. “In that mistake, I will arm you with what you need. Trust me, you need all the help you can get.”

  Acknowledging his monumental challenge, Odin understood the truth in my words.

  “What do you offer?” he asked.

  “This chain,” I said as I pointed to my shackle, “is not by choice. In your father’s reign, I was somewhat of a specialized historian. But when Forneus’s rule was instated, my talent was not needed. And instead, Forneus chained me here and demanded my service.”

  “What is your talent?” Odin asked.

  “I have the ability not only to hold but also to transfer exact moments of time,” I said. “And my mind holds the entire history of Animus Letum.”

  Odin looked at me inquisitively.

  “And you intend to show me what?”

  “What you need to see,” I said. “The fall of Forneus.”

  41

  After taking a moment to consider, Odin eventually nodded his assent.

  “Be quick, Boatman,” he said. “I will not allow any time to be wasted.”

  “As you wish,” I consented.

  I then removed my long coat in preparation.

  “How does your power work?” Odin asked.

  “You will see,” I said. “Do you prefer sitting or standing?”

  “Standing,” Odin replied. “Why?”

  I smiled as I stretched my hands. “Just brace yourself. This will feel like nothing you’ve ever experienced.” I then placed my hand on Odin’s shoulder, and allowed my green eyes to employ the great mastery of my craft.

  In the very next instant, Odin and I were standing in the Throne Room of Animus Letum, witnessing an event that had taken place twenty years prior.

  In front of Odin and me were the mighty Serich and his then faithful general Forneus. Serich was seated on his throne. His powerful frame, shaded blue by the luminous Soul Cauldron behind him, was the inarguable proof of his deity.

  “That’s my father?” Odin marvelled.

  “Quite a sight,” I agreed.

  “Can he see us?” Odin asked.

  “No,” I answered. “What we see are exact moments in the past. Our attendance is limited to the role of witnesses. We can neither interact with nor influence these moments. We can only observe.”

  In the vision, Forneus had begun to argue with the king.

  “I don't understand,” he complained. “I can be of much more use to you.”

  Forneus’s solid purple eyes pled with the king, but Serich could not yield.

  “My friend, I need my best at the Dark Pool,” he said. “Those at the Dark Pool have made clear their ambition. They brood in disgracing my throne. Rhea is not safe. My unborn sons are not safe. This greatest of errands can only be fulfilled by your hands. I send you because I expect victory.”

  Forneus could not argue against the king’s reason: Forneus was the most fit.

  “For you, my king, I will concede. If it is great for the throne, then it is great for me.”

  “Farewell, Forneus,” the king said. “I await your glorious return.”

  “I will not disappoint,” Forneus pledged.

  As Forneus bowed and began to leave the Throne Room, Serich didn’t realize that he would never see his friend again.

  As Odin and I watched Forneus stride towards the Dark Pool, I had to look away.

  “It’s still tough to look at,” I confessed. “Those steps lead a brave heart to its death.”

  Odin’s eyes were locked intently on the departing Forneus.

  “He was a good man,” Odin realized. “My father trusted him.”

  “The unsurpassed measure of Forneus’s loyalty is why the serpents took such great interest in him. The Dark Pool brought both petty and grand evils on your father. Destroying his best friend was their grandest feat. If you will allow me, I would like to show you the depths of that accomplishment.”

  “As you wish,” Odin said.

  After flexing my hands once more, I traced my mind to the next necessary scene, and in a flash I delivered Odin and myself into its heart.

  There before us was Forneus standing on the sinister bank of the Dark Pool. It was not the sight but the sound of the Dark Pool that was most haunting. The sound was like a thousand serpents hissing in unnerving unison. The actual structure of the Dark Pool was a massive hollow cavern located against the sea that surrounds Animus Letum. The Cavern had no roof and very little rock face surrounding its sides. It was almost like a massive rock tent. The waves of the sea crashed against the Dark Pool’s sides, capping over the cavern’s rock barriers. And although there was water of substantial depth inside the Pool, the appearance of surging waves was actually created by the movement of thousands and thousands of slithering snakes.

  The Pool was the haven of Animus Letum’s worst conspirators. Behind the Dark Pool’s strident and wicked hiss lay the motive of every evil act ever committed in Animus Letum. It was the Hell of the afterlife.

  There were always many Vayne brooding in the sinister effluence of the Dark Pool, but in the moment I had brought Odin to, the only Vayne present were the dozen dead at Forneus’s feet.

  In the vision, Forneus sheathed his bloody sword and then drew a leather bound book from a satchel pouch.

  “What’s with the book?” Odin asked me.

  “The book is Forneus’s journal,” I said. I then pulled out five sheets of paper that were tucked into my belt. “And these are the entries from that journal.”

  “These are from Forneus’s journal?” Odin asked.

  “Exact copies,” I replied. “He actually only made the five entries.”

  “You’ve carried them all of this time?”

  My reply was honest. “I’ve prepared for this moment for twenty years,” I said. “Both I and this land have waited a long time to meet you.”

  Odin seemed aware of what I was saying. However, his acknowledging smile conveyed a great lack of scope with regard to the situation. He thought he was here to save his brother; I knew he was here to save all of us.

  “Just re
ad,” I said. “Begin to understand.”

  Odin nodded and then set his eyes onto Forneus’s first journal entry:

  I stand here. I stand true: the elected foe of the afterlife’s perdition. Serich has endowed me with a great honour and trust. I will not fail my king. The Dark Pool will fall by my hand. I have only been here for weeks, but in that time an even more lethal ambition has grown in my heart. I hear the Pool. I almost hear words. And that unsettling realization has strengthened my desire for conquest. This evil should not be allowed to exist. I am beginning to understand the serpent’s arsenal. Few men stand a chance against these whispers and against that hard truth I know I must conquer – for Serich, for me, for all. It appears quite clear that I must find the Pool’s source. Every fibre in my body believes the source to be deep in the Dark Pool. However, I still have not found the courage to dive in. Time, I hope, will grant me that audacity. Fortunately, for king and country, time I have.

  In the vision, Forneus closed his journal and retreated into a shack that he had built near the Dark Pool’s bank. The moment Forneus disappeared behind the door, numerous serpents slithered out from the base of his shack. The thirty serpents, with their devilish tongues flickering across their mouths, scaled up the exterior of the shack, and once atop, they coiled their bodies up. This position was held for a long moment. It seemed to make no sense. But I again, and Odin for the first time, both winced as we witnessed the reason for the serpents’ behavior. The hiss of the Dark Pool, like a baleful whisper, was amplified tenfold and was directly channelled at Forneus’s shack.

  “That sound,” Odin shuddered, “it’s what Galian told me about.”

  “He was here?” I asked.

  “No,” Odin answered, “but he once spoke of Hell. That sound is what he described.”