Through the Never

by J. A. Culican

  “That it does.”

  “Do you mean for me to gather Thor to assist you?”

  “No, I don’t require his help. I can take care of this,” Baldr said.

  He headed to the tavern, where the two assailants sat enjoying mead.

  Asgard was a trade city. It was not strange for foreigners to be seen there, but as he sniffed the air, he smelled the scent of jasmine on the skin of those strange men. The same scent that had hung heavy in the air in his home, which they had sullied with their violence.

  “Gentlemen, let us find reason,” he said and took a seat. “For it would seem you have done a very bad thing on this day.”

  “Who are you?” asked one.

  “He is surely not Thor, the one they use to fight all of their battles,” said the second man. He lifted his horn and drank, his shoulders moving with silent mirth.

  “Yeah, he’s the other son.”

  They both began to laugh loudly.

  Strange to see it from this perspective and such disregard and dishonor. Baldr was still a god in his own right, but now, even mortal men believed him to be a fool and weak, unable to handle his battles or affairs. The white light he exuded began to dim.

  “I am the son of Odin. My father’s blood pumps through this heart, and just as he defeated the giant Ymir and scattered his remains, I, too, am capable of bringing death.

  “With what? A lecture on the history of Asgard?” one jeered.

  “What will you do, bore us with details?” the other chimed in.

  “All myths,” the first one laughed.

  “Why have you come here?” Baldr demanded.

  “Our lord said you’ve taken something that belongs to him, and we were tasked to get rid of it.”

  Before the laughter died on the strangers’ lips, Baldr pushed up from his seat, vengeance thick on his skin, and he smashed the first man’s head onto the wooden table causing him to fall backwards.

  When it came to the second one, it was simple. He struck out with his sword, and ran him through.

  “You have disgraced my home, sullied it, and now you will pay with your life.”

  Pushing his sword in to the hilt, he watched the man take his last breath.

  “I am the son of Odin, and the son of Freyja. I am war, I am death, I am light.”

  “This will not stop them from coming. They will come and take back the dragon.”

  Before the assailant could continue his sentence, Baldr raised his sword higher, gutting him like a fish.

  Bloodlust pushed him like a steed whipped. Those who’d hurt Nanna would pay. He reached in and, with a bolt of energy, resurrected the man, to only kill him again and again and again, until his rage had lessened.

  And no one said a thing. No one interrupted him.

  He was the Prince of Asgard.

  Removing a crate from behind the tavern’s bar, he folded the man, like a piece of cloth, in on top of himself, crushing his remains until they fit neatly and compactly. Then he kicked the box over to the remaining man, who cowered under the table.

  “Have you watched? Have you seen the depths of my barbarism? Do not allow my amiable nature to be misunderstood for weakness. Go now, and take your man there with you. For should you stay, I will have the uttermost pleasure of killing you over and over until my arms tire.”

  Nanna, Breidablik—the Hall of Baldr

  Seeing Baldr walk through that door, I noticed blue light shone out of his eyes. Whatever was bothering him weighed extremely heavily on him.

  “Baldr, are you okay?” I asked.

  “What you did is forbidden in Asgard,” he said.

  “The consumption of godly blood? Why? It has helped heal me.” I said. I felt younger, stronger, as if I’d increased in dexterity and ability. I snapped my fingers and a flame appeared, something that had never happened before. Magic. I’d never been a practitioner of it.

  “You cannot do that here. Even my father doesn’t practice his magic within these walls, and he knows the magic of old.”

  In that moment, he was the brightest star to ever exist. I heard his heartbeat, could feel his breath: “What has she done? If All-Father finds out about this, as well as about the heart, she will be executed.” His thoughts rang in my mind.

  I shook my head to be clear of his voice. “Is it that serious? I will die because of this change in me?” I paused and thought about everything he’d mentioned. Ymir. Cursed. Heart. Death. And also what he didn’t know about—the dragon. The beast resting underneath that still had not revealed itself to him.

  “It is said that Ymir was evil,” Baldr began. “But it is more than that. He seeks to come back and destroy Asgard.”

  “Well, I am not Ymir.”

  “I know, but blood magic is what you have begun practicing. It is more. This magic acts as a seduction.”

  I dug my fingernails into my forearm and peeled away the upper level of skin there, and particles of fire began to spark. By the time their light dimmed, my skin had returned and showed no signs of harm.

  “What you are now, and what you are doing, I don’t know how to handle it or what to do.”

  Heimdall’s horn blew, interrupting us.

  “And it appears that we will not be able to finish this conversation now, as an army is approaching Asgard.”

  “You got all of that from a horn’s toot?” I asked.

  The nice, kind man I knew had disappeared and, his emotions locked down, he headed to his armory. I followed.

  “Let me help. I can be of great assistance,” I said. “Fighting is the only thing I know, and surely as a dragon I can do more good than harm.”

  “No, you are to remain here, and not leave this place. Here you will be safe as no evil is allowed to enter.”

  “Can that magic be lifted?”

  He stared at me, saying nothing.

  “Only by the All-Father?”

  He nodded and hurried away.

  I didn’t want to consider that Odin might be behind everything that had transpired thus far. It felt like a backroom deal had taken place before my feet had ever touched Asgardian ground.

  Once Baldr had left, I exited the Hall and headed toward Valhalla, where I hoped to find my grandfather. Surely, he would be able to help me, if he wasn’t already fighting at the wall.

  When I stepped into the corridor, a male calling my name forced me to turn around. He stood there in his fine red apparel, handsome to stare at, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

  “I hope you will forgive us for kidnapping Baldr for so long. He had a lovely time on the battlefield and was only trying to prove something to you.”

  I took a step back. “Who are you?”

  He smiled a devilish smile and bowed. “I am Loki, son of Laufey. Being here with the Aesir takes a little getting used to. It can also be quite overwhelming, around perfection and feeling imperfect.”

  He understood. He understood that doubt. “There must be something I can do to earn my way; to make them see that I can be of great help.”

  He looked me up and down. “Is there some hidden talent you have, dear Nanna, which you could use to assist the gods? Are you willing to sacrifice your freedom to be of service?”

  “What do you mean? You speak as if from first-hand knowledge,” I said.

  “The gifts the gods so enjoy, such as Thor’s Hammer, Odin’s spear, even the lovely necklace that Freyja loves, they all come from the dwarves, and are gifted to them by me, courtesy of my handiwork, and talent to negotiate. However, that has not bought me any friends.”

  “Is this serving as a warning of sorts?”

  “Only that the sun is appreciated after the rain; light after darkness. If they can always expect you to rise to the occasion, then they will never allow you the choice of doing so.”

  “Your gift-giving then—it has given you a place here?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Yes, but it has come with a dire cost. I once was also so unburdened like you, but they have never let
me forget that I am not one of them. I am the son of a god and a giant, able to be here because of my mother’s blood. I’d hate to see how they would treat me if I had none of her in me. Oh, excuse me, I did not mean to offend you. But tread carefully.”

  “Do you know who they are fighting today?”

  Loki’s face became like stone, his emotions unreadable. He simply nodded. “Embrace your darkness to dance in the light. Be burdened by it. Come with me and I will show you. We will head to the pinnacle and see with our own eyes what has come to fight against us.”

  “Us?” I asked.

  “You are here.”

  He extended his hand out to me and I took it. He shifted into a bird, and out into the sky we flew, settling on the tallest tower’s pinnacle. I watched the golden army of Asgard move into position, while opponents approached, their standards fluttering in the wind. The symbol of a flame was crystal clear.

  I knew that flame, as I’d seen it since as far back as I could remember in the temple in Carthage. Melqart.

  Why would he be attacking Asgard? I asked. My stomach flip-flopped. My prayer? “Could this be my fault?” I asked.

  “Many wars have started over a woman, why not this one?”

  I’d never heard such truth. If this was my fault, then it would be my responsibility to fix this.

  I focused on the voice within, and felt my body morphing into the large beast. My wings extended. My dragon-vision honed in on the exchange of fiery arrows shot between the warring parties.

  Leaping from the top of the building, I took flight.

  “You will not regret this.” Loki called after me.

  I so hoped not.

  Baldr, banks of the Ifing River

  “You have taken something that did not belong to you, Baldr, son of Odin, and I demand her back.” Lord Melqart approached. Chained jewelry hung across his face, and black-inked tattoos marked his skin. Fire shimmered all around him, and his men, armed and ready to battle, beat their swords against their shields in a show of force and power. It was a tactic that would not work.

  The ground shook under their feet, and Baldr held his daggers to his side.

  “Son, it would seem that your alliance with Melqart was misguided,” Odin began. “I foresee that he wishes to retrieve someone that you have taken of his.”

  “He is mistaken, Father,” Baldr said.

  “You would die for this woman?” Odin asked.

  “I would rip out my heart and give it to her if that is what she desired.”

  The massive army of soldiers at Melqart’s disposal went as far back as Baldr could see. An alliance with the Phoenician pantheon granted Melqart and his men access to Asgard, but they’d not entered through the gate at Bifrost Bridge, where Heimdall stood, but over the Ifing River, where the giants lived.

  Chaos would soon begin. In the distance, if Melqart was there, so was his father, Baal.

  It had been ages since blood had truly been shed in Asgard. The memory of war was fleeting.

  “No concerns, son,” Odin said, and removed his long robes to reveal armor beneath. “I’ve been feeling a little bored.”

  Like the god he was, Odin would not wait for the other army to strike, but attacked first. “My hall has many rooms,” he muttered, and cast his spear so it landed in the heart of one of Melqart’s generals, presenting him with the first sacrifice to his name.

  “We need not forget that we have been forged in fire, all warriors. We shall fight for each other, and none of them shall escape with breath in their lungs. Today we shall send a gift to Lady Hel,” Odin said.

  The Asgardian soldiers had rallied up, taking their place, when out of the heavens a large beast appeared. Its scales were painted black and shimmered in the lowest light, but it was its blue eyes with amber rings that made Baldr stop his advance.

  “Nanna,” he whispered, and the Asgardian soldiers released a slew of arrows at the beast, hoping to bring it down.

  It flapped its wings and screeched high above the skyline. It dipped and dodged until it landed on the city wall, and morphed back into human form—that of Nanna.

  “Stop this,” she begged.

  “Right on time,” Melqart said. “You received my call.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “The dragon was my little gift to you,” Melqart began, “and now you can do what you’ve been created to do, and pour fire onto these deplorable things. You will take them down; you will burn them.”

  “Looks like your little dove has betrayed you,” Thor said to Baldr’s right.

  “I know her. She would not do that,” Baldr responded.

  “She has been created by him, which is why he let you bring her here, so that she could awaken Ymir and unlock the curse—a curse that will allow her to then become the beast that only the fiery god Melqart could create. The goal is for her to act as the ultimate weapon and defeat us, through you.”

  “You,” Nanna continued, “you are the one responsible for trying to kill me?”

  “It would seem like my men failed,” Melqart said, “but I will not miss.”

  A dragonwort-drenched blade was thrown towards Nanna, and when it became lodged in her arm, she fell to her knees and howled. She withered with pain, and smoke began to billow from her. She wrenched the weapon out of her arm, and it seemed that the angrier she became, the larger her form grew.

  “Just like you failed your people in Carthage. Where were you?” she demanded.

  “A god does not belong to anyone. Our loyalties can be swayed wherever man utters a prayer. Your father should know that, for that is why he lost his battle against the Romans. He sacrificed for one, but they sacrificed for many.”

  “You are responsible for what has transpired there. All of those innocent people were slaughtered and the town razed.”

  “Me? I’ve done nothing but listen. Your people are responsible for their own actions. I did not force Hannibal’s hand, and your desire to revolt against the Romans had consequences that even you must pay for. But you caught the attention of another god to save you.”

  “But I prayed to you,” Nanna said.

  “Yet, you left with him,” Melqart said. “Come now, back to me and all will be forgiven. You can rule by my side, as my Dragon Queen, for I know the beast you carry within requires taming. Hear my voice and come to me.”

  “No!” Baldr yelled.

  His skin, that had exuded a white light, turned red.

  “You wish to fight me for her? Give her to me and save our alliance,” Melqart said.

  Odin stepped forward. “It is for the best, dear Baldr. She is not made for this place, and her fate was to die until you saved her. Let her die, let her go.”

  He nodded and had his soldiers surround Nanna with their spears. “She can be the sacrifice for her people, so that they may continue to thrive. The fate of death is not so bad.”

  But being sacrificed to Melqart meant that she would also be destined to dwell in eternity, according the rules of the Phoenician religion, and that had no room for the Norse deities in it.

  “Baldr,” Nanna called to him.

  “I will find you, Nanna!” he yelled.

  Thor held him back from moving forward, as Melqart’s men tied her up with ropes of dragon wort, and carried her away.

  “You have betrayed me, Father,” Baldr seethed.

  “No, you have betrayed us. I have saved us from Ragnarok,” Odin said.

  “If you cannot understand the heart, then you have truly been corrupted by the power of ruling.”

  “Petulance? That is my reward for saving you?”

  “You have saved me from nothing. Instead you have armed me with a weapon and told me in which direction to point my bow.”

  “You are nothing but a young man still. Still growing into your own being. There will be other women. Just look at your brother, even Loki; they have made good choices in their search.”

  “I am not a child who needs your guidance or protectio
n.”

  “Those are the rantings of a child.”

  “She is my destiny and I will save her.”

  “Then you will do so with no help. I will not risk Asgard for a woman who has no place here.”

  “You will lose a son because of your fear?”

  Baldr shrugged off Thor’s hand and headed away, back towards home, and back towards the armory that contained all of the weapons he needed to free the dragon and rid the world of the pestilence that Melqart had become.

  Baldr, Breidablik — the Hall of Baldr

  “Do you wish to do this alone?” Thor asked.

  Baldr remained quiet and continued to put together his satchel of things he’d need to fight.

  “They have sixty-thousand men, and you are taking daggers? You will need more than that,” Thor remarked.

  “What is it you wish me to do?” Baldr asked and folded up the satchel.

  “Let us be clear: war cleanses, and what has happened must be undone, and Loki agrees, right?” Thor asked, and elbowed Loki in the side.

  “Of course, if this is true love, what is the threat of exile?” Loki said.

  “That is the plan then? To save her and then head back to—”

  “Don’t tell us. There are nine worlds and enough places for you two to hide. This is rebellion, and the All-Father will not be happy about your usurping his rule. This will start a war.”

  “He breathes war,” Loki said. “And you just fight them, Thor.”

  “I have seen the beautiful life that I am to have with her—” Baldr began.

  Loki squatted down next to Baldr. “You must understand our position. This woman, who you so stark ravingly love, has not even uttered a word of liking for you. She only called out your name when Melqart sought to take her away.”

  “What are you asking of me, Loki?”

  “She is noble born, of Midgard, but is this flower from that garden so lovely that you must pluck it and keep it?”

  “I know my heart,” Baldr said.

  “Do not confuse him,” Thor declared. “Instead, grab your weapons and let us make haste, for they have surely made better time than us. We know that they have crossed the river over into the land of the giants, and although I’m sure a war with Melqart and his father Baal would be greatly enjoyable, it would be stretching my resources thin to also have to fight the entire giant population.” Thor gripped Mjolnir and flexed his gloved hands around its shortened handle. “Loki,” he continued, “go scout the area and make sure they are still camped south of the river, then we shall be able to make our attack.”