Through the Never

by J. A. Culican

  Destiny had come to find me, pinning me between the altar to Melqart and the pointed edge of Roman swords.

  A slight wind blew, kicking up scents of incense and sweeter perfumes. The portal opened anew, and Baldr took my hand in his. “Today, you shall not die,” he said.

  A shiver coursed through me. I wasn’t sure if it was exhilaration after my escape, or because of the handsome man pulling me to safety. This was not okay. Attraction be damned.

  He ripped the choice away from me and pulled me in after him.

  He’d forced me to live, and destined my people to die.

  I snatched my hand out of his warm grasp as the portal behind us closed, and my feet planted on a surface that shimmered.

  “What have you done?” I yelled.

  “I have saved you.”

  “That was not your decision to make. You have stripped me of my right to fight for my people, and with my people.”

  “But your destiny is so much greater than that.” He reached out as if to touch my cheek. I took a step back, despite the fluttering in my stomach. My attraction warred with my honor.

  “No, what you have done is damn them to suffering.”

  “It was not my place to intercede. Melqart, he is the patron god of the city, and therefore, it is his prerogative to become actively involved.”

  I rolled my eyes at the notion. Melqart had done nothing for us besides cause irreparable harm. We’d been paying war reparations so long that only its strong mercantilism held the city afloat. But vultures buzzed overhead, waiting for a chance to swoop in and strip us of anything left over, dignity included.

  “I saved you because I love you, dear Nanna,” Baldr said and took a step forward, closing the space between us.

  My eyes bulged, and my mouth gaped open. When I awoke this morning from dreaming of him, I never considered something like this to be true. Even more, attraction in a dream isn’t even a foundation for love to build upon. He might be handsome, the most beautiful man I’d ever seen, but love it did not create. Sexual attraction? Yes. But love?

  I coughed, trying to clear my airway, and rubbed my grimy hand over my face to hide the frown I knew was there. If I’d known this god would save me and then declare undying love, I might have wished to instead fight off the Roman legion myself.

  Nanna; the word that meant woman. It wasn’t my name. It didn’t represent me. For I was Annôn. My gaze fell away from his face. In this new place, to where he’d stolen me, I’d have to make do until I could return—if I could return.

  He must have noticed my frown and hesitation. “Worry not. There is much for you to learn here. Come.” He stretched out his hand as if to take my own again. “This view is breathtaking, and surely the first time you should not see it alone.”

  My hand clasped his, and together we exited the portal room, and were greeted by a large man. “Heimdall,” Baldr said with a smile.

  When he smiled, the world lit up. For in that smile lived beauty, peace and light.

  For years, we’d lived under either the threat of war, or with tyranny spewing out of Rome, whereby mothers anxiously awaited news of their sons who had perished on board a naval ship, or of another daughter assaulted by a lustful soldier. They’d taken our pride, our freedom, and used our own bodies against us. Bastard sons and daughters rounded out Carthaginian women’s stomachs, while their husbands could do nothing about it. And in it all, Melqart remained silent.

  “Answer me this,” I began. “If you could hear my prayer, why has Melqart done nothing?”

  “I cannot speak for any other deity in the pantheons. All I can tell you is that when I saw you, I could no longer imagine this eternity without you. There is something in you that called to me. Not only your beauty but your courage; your heart.”

  I wasn’t sure if I felt the same. Love. I’d never had the chance to figure out this dance, what it all meant. But surely I had time to figure this all out. He’d give me time to adjust to this—

  “Is he also here?” I asked.

  He frowned at me. “No, my dear, this is Asgard, where we, the Norse gods, reign.”

  “And the others?”

  “We are in communication with them.”

  It seemed as if he was hiding something from me.

  “If I stay, then I wish to speak with him.”

  He nodded. “But first you must learn what it means to be here in Asgard. This is not the mortal world, nor are we ruled in the ways you are used to. My father, Odin, you must meet him, for he will allow you to remain.”

  “And if he doesn’t? Will I be returned? And what of my people? Shall the gods ride down from this place to save them?”

  There was a chance to pull back and return. A part of me applauded this decision; it might be my chance to save my people.

  “Worry not, Nanna. All will be well.”

  His answer was nothing but an attempt to coddle me. Sure, he’d saved me from a legion of Roman soldiers, who would execute me in the most public of ways. I’d heard of what they did to those who resisted—fighting in the great Coliseum to the death for their entertainment, or stretched out on their wood to die slowly.

  Yet, here I stood because of a fluttering feeling in my stomach, of a man, a god, who’d saved me. I trusted a dream, and in those dreams, he’d always been kind, honorable even.

  Maybe, I could convince him to help me. If Melqart would not answer our prayers, maybe it was time we had a new patron god of Carthage. My people needed me, and I needed him to help save them, no matter what.

  The Rainbow Bridge shimmered with an array of colors, new and fresh. But it was the stars that awed me the most. They twinkled so brightly, and as we walked through the ether of night, I breathed in pure fresh air, air so rich and sweet, it filled my lungs and made every part of my body tingle.

  Then we crossed over the Bifrost Bridge, and a gate opened revealing a golden city before me.

  “Welcome to Asgard.”

  Nanna, Asgard, the City

  As we reached the end of the Bifrost Bridge, a solid gate appeared on one side, on an incline, while the other side held a doorway with runic markings carved into the surrounding stone. These signs must have given options as to where one could go, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure them out. The markings were of different shades—one was a vibrant purple that could have been peeled right from an eggplant’s skin; another was as richly red as a pomegranate’s seed.

  “What is this?” I asked pointing toward the signs.

  “This is the bridge’s end, whereat one can choose which part of Asgard to enter, either by the gate or the doorway. Asgard is not only the name of the realm, but also the name of its capital. There are many lands and regions in the realm and each of the gods have their own halls. When we are in the city of Asgard, we also have our place with the All-Father, for a daily meeting of the minds is necessary, and of course, our own home.”

  We. It held such foreboding. I wasn’t sure I could carry with me what this word implied. “You know, you speak of a ‘we’, but my heart’s desire must first be unlocked, and such a gift cannot be simply commanded. When I love, I love with every part of my being.”

  “That’s a long explanation as to how I will win you,” Baldr said.

  He smiled a dashing smile. One that stirred something within my belly. It was filled with unsaid promises of pleasure, desire, and most importantly, my guaranteed satisfaction.

  Even under his armor, his body appeared as if it were carved from marble—broad shoulders, defined arms built for carrying heavy weapons and defending, and a handsome face that was easy on the eye. His thick black hair hung about his face, and rich stubble rested on his strong jaw.

  “Pft,” I muttered, and felt my face began to blush.

  “Come, there is much to see that is beautiful,” he said.

  I’d never seen anything like this, a sky deeper and bluer than I’d ever seen.

  “Tell me of this place.”

  “Asgard is one
of the nine realms, and the home of the Norse gods.”

  I sighed. “Nine realms, you say?”

  “Yes, love—”

  “And the others?”

  “Our cosmology is different from what you know on earth. We have the tree of Yggdrasil, the Tree of Life, and in its branches, at the very bottom, is Helheim, the land of the dead. Then comes Svartalfheim, the land of dwarves, and on the next plain is your home, Midgard, which is connected to Asgard by the Rainbow Bridge. Vanaheim is the land of the Vanier, another tribe of gods, and Jotunheim is where the giants dwell, which begins just over the river there. Beyond it is Alfheim—the land of the elves.”

  I began to chuckle. “Yes, this is all quite different.”

  I watched as his eyes sparkled as he shared this piece of information. He could have been cruel, or ridiculed my lack of knowledge, but instead he’d showed kindness and patience.

  “And I didn’t even make it through all nine.”

  “All of these places have gods like you?”

  “No, love. They retain their own populations. Some who are friendly with the gods, and some who would seek to destroy us. Just as Earth, or Midgard, is the home of humans, Asgard is the home of the Aesir, the gods and goddesses.”

  I cleared my throat. “In which direction will this beauty take us?” I asked

  “That, my love, will all depend on which way you decide to go.”

  I let him talk, interested in hearing every nuance he wished to provide me with. From my position on the bridge, I stared at the view—tall buildings crafted with the best stones jutted into the sky, and far below, Asgardians strolled along the golden streets.

  “How is it that your feet do not burn on your golden streets?”

  “The streets may appear like gold from far away, but they are made of granite, strong enough to support the thousands of feet that they must carry, as well as the hooves of our thunderous steeds.”

  We headed toward a large building, which reminded me of a humongous Roman temple, larger and grander than any Phoenician temple. The greenest, fullest trees I’d ever seen lined the immaculate streets.

  Birds chirped.

  Soldiers in golden armor, armed with swords and shields, patrolled, while other beings—I could not figure out their particular place in the hierarchy—drifted like fallen palm leaves in a light wind.

  “Are you under attack?” I asked. The thought that soldiers just waited around and guarded during a time of peace left me a little uneasy; it was more than a slight contradiction. I stopped walking.

  “Not right now, but the giants on the other side of the river do attack ever so often. For this reason, guards are positioned around the realm. You are safe here.”

  I nodded my head as if understanding, but this was a totally new world to me.

  Baldr took my hands in his. “I know this might be a lot to take in, but be not afraid.”

  “I’m not afraid of anything.” I squared my shoulders and swallowed.

  “Good. You mustn’t be frightened. Come, we must go see my father, the All-Father, and ruler of this realm. He will be waiting for us. Although quite powerful, he can be kind.”

  Gods were fickle, I knew. An uttered prayer didn’t mean an answered one.

  We entered a large throne room, and there sat an older man with one piercing eye that stared at me; where his second eye should have been, only an empty socket remained. A gray beard covered his chin, and in his hand, he gripped a spear.

  My mouth went dry and my palms began to sweat. Standing next to Baldr, I felt the weight of Odin’s presence. My breathing hitched, my heart thudded, and for a moment, I was sure I’d turn into a pillar of salt, as his stare made me wish I were invisible.

  “Father,” Baldr said. His voice was filled with something akin to joy. “Mother!”

  The woman he identified stood next his father, and held on to his hand. At the sight of Baldr, I watched her face beam with a mixture of pride and delight. Her long reddish hair rested over her shoulders in two braids, while her elegant white and golden threaded gown reflected her grand status. She must be the queen of Asgard, and from the look of love she shared with Odin, he was her king.

  Before I could suppress the feeling, a sense of longing hit me. For the tiniest of moments, I wanted that. She stood, and even from this distance I could feel her power emanating from her.

  “Who have you bought here?” Odin’s voice thundered.

  “This is Nanna, and she will be my wife.”

  Baldr’s mother strolled over to me. “Welcome to Asgard, dear Nanna.”

  I cleared my throat at that. This was not a marriage proposal. He’d saved me from the Romans, but that didn’t mean I was ready to become his wife. We didn’t even know each other. All of this sat on my tongue waiting to be spat out like a mouthful of poisonous wine. The emotions within threaten to spill out. This is all too much. I’m not a thing to be coveted and placed on a shelf.

  However, my lips stayed sealed.

  Becoming his wife would involve an intimacy I’d never had, not only giving him my body—something forbidden—but also sharing an everyday intimacy of life together. This communion of mind and soul? My eyes darted to the doorway before coming back to land on him, Baldr. If I became his wife, would I be able to leave? Would I be allowed to—and would I want to—return to Carthage? It is easy to forget the wars there surrounded by such a peace here.

  My gaze shifted to movement to my right, where I watched as a couple of young ladies, hiding behind a golden pillar, giggled. Dressed in flowing gowns, they appeared like the usual ladies-in-waiting.

  “Ladies, please clear the throne room,” Odin yelled. His focus then fell back on me. “Has she agreed to such? Mortals are duplicitous.”

  “She is not deceitful, Father. Instead, she has a heart filled with courage and goodness.”

  My head bobbed between Baldr and his father, following their conversation as best as I could.

  “And she is the one you have chosen?” Odin asked. “There are many goddesses who would enjoy your presence and companionship. What does this mortal have that those in Asgard, and of our kind, don’t?”

  “Our kind, Father? Are you referencing the marriage of the gods to the giants, or intermarriage?”

  “Son, simplicity is not what you wish. She knows little of our ways or the dangers she must face in order to live here.”

  “I will make sure that she is made aware. The libraries have knowledge of everything, from Ymir’s prophecy to the pending—”

  My vision clouded and light and fire rose up around me. I could feel something dark flying around me. Odin’s voice broke through.

  “Do not say it.” He paused. He stared at me, through me, into me, as if he knew what had occurred. I gulped under his scrutiny. “She could be the key to releasing chaos between the realms.”

  This conversation I did not follow.

  “Odin, you must allow love to grow where it can, and I foresee a great love between these two, as I know you can, too,” Freyja said. “Plus, in order to appreciate the light, we must sometimes enjoy the darkness.”

  I frowned. Although her words were filled with power, and showed that he, her husband, valued her opinion, what was this great evil of which they spoke, and did they think it was me? Was I to be their scourge, brought into their realm to cause mayhem?

  “Fear not,” Freyja said directly into my mind. “If you let him, Baldr will keep your heart safe. The choice is yours.”

  “I just need time. This is overwhelming,” I said.

  “But time cannot be gifted. To stay, you must be under a god’s protection, or be ousted. That is our law.”

  “And if I return?”

  “You would shun his salvation for your people?”

  “How can I save myself and not them?”

  Freyja nodded, and smiled. “Believe, dear Nanna.”

  “How will that work?”

  “Faith need not be explained; it simply is—and remember, the
gods always respond, just not always as the prayers ask.”

  A moment of silence passed, and Odin stood. “My son, I can see that this is a decision based on your heart, and although I disagree with your choice, for with it, great hardship will come, I understand that I cannot sway your decision. You are just, and the partner you choose must be so, as well. For if you choose wrongly, Asgard will burn.”

  Baldr nodded.

  “Good. I will send a missive out announcing your choice of wife to the nine realms.”

  A broad smile lit up Baldr’s already handsome face, and he clasped my hand in his large one.

  “Tomorrow we wed.”

  Nanna, Breidablik—The Hall of Baldr

  Although the first hall, Odin’s hall, was beautiful, the home of Baldr surpassed it with the finest splendor. As I entered, my mouth gaped open at the sight of orbs of light encased in large diamonds, which hung from large ornate chandeliers. The cathedral-high ceilings were painted with celestial scenes that moved and twinkled as if reflecting the earthly night sky. I was staring at the same sky I’d seen in Carthage.

  “I hope it is to your liking. I have been preparing this place for you,” Baldr said.

  Afraid to blink, I tried to take it all in—the tall gold and marble pillars carved with Norse knot-work, heavy golden brocade curtains, masterfully crafted wooden and metal furniture. It seemed so surreal.

  “You will want for nothing, my love.”

  It was too much. A declaration that had no foundation. I could love a puppy without regret. Heck, even now I missed my mare, but to love another meant allowing myself to be hurt beyond what a simple sharp sword could do.

  I shook my head.

  Love made me hope. I was not sure I was ready for hope when I knew that my people were in peril.

  And the feeling of being out of place seemed to twine around my ankles, and up around my knees until I stood motionless, afraid to move forward or backwards.