Alfheim

by Erik Schubach

She growled at him, “You are unarmed and...” She hesitated when he pulled two obsidian, carbon fiber blades out from somewhere. He grinned sheepishly as he shrugged. I stifled a chuckle at the surprise on her face. I knew he did it for that reaction as I knew he was just as deadly with or without weapons having fought at his side for centuries.

  Nerthus regained her composure and chuckled, then she looked over at me. “They will come in directly, no evasion, so just move directly between them and your fellow Olympian.”

  I shook my head. “That would hamper Aphrodite from her kill shots.”

  The Queen looked confused and Dite flicked her wrists, the nano-particles of the bracelets activated and snapped into a slim bow in one of her hands, and the other into a small quiver of almost impossibly thin arrows which was strapped along her other forearm.

  Now the Queen did laugh, long and hard as she pointed at us, a sly smirk on her face.

  When she regained her composure she looked over to Samantha who was now holding Jania's hand. “And I suppose you are armed as well? What good are my guards?”

  Jani growled out in accusation, “No mother, she is not armed as she will not do violence, and your little games here will not change her resolve. I shall protect her from the Dökkálfar, and I shall always remember you have done this.”

  Her anger fluttered when her eyes did when Sam reached up to rub one of Jani's pointed ears between her fingers. The Elf just stood there blinking, then shook her head and turned to Sam. “By the fourth gate woman. Don't do that when we are about to go to battle, I cannot be distracted.”

  The All Mother exhaled loudly then turned back to the pathway heading east. “Come along or the Heroes of the Night will have already repelled the nightly attack by the time we reach the farms.”

  I looked back to the gates of the great outer wall to see the others in our group join the defenders at the causeway that surrounded the wall. They watched us intently as we disappeared into the forest.

  After a short walk, we broke out of the forest, reaching the farms of cultivated fields of corn, grains, and vegetables, with small fruit orchards at the perimeter and grazing land for the herds of livestock we could see clumped in the pastures for the night.

  As Nerthus led us, the pike in her hand looking like it belonged there, an extension of her arm, we saw the Heroes of the Night, their armor gleaming in the moonlight, as they arrived on another path.

  That is when the horns started sounding. When Nerthus stopped, her head whipping around as she scanned the forest perimeter, her ears twitched as she seemed to be triangulating the location of the horns that were starting to sound all around us.

  Jania was spinning in a circle, her brow furrowed, her eyes wide. Intark asked as he looked between them, “This is not normal?”

  She shook her head as she drew her bow and nocked an arrow. “No. We have never heard these horns.”

  I said as an overlay in my vision showed target points just inside the treeline all around as the location of the horns. More and more bloomed in a trail eastward as the map expanded. I whispered, “They are signal horns. More are sounding to the east.”

  Nerthus hissed then growled out, “Most of the suspected Dark Elf cave entrances lay to the east. Why are they signaling now, when they never have before?”

  I took a step forward as I looked at our group. “Do you walk the night often, All Mother?”

  She froze and shook her head. “Never. This is my first time since my Sund. And I've been locked away in that damnable Green Palace ever since the All Mother passed on her title to me ten years back.”

  Intark nodded while his eyes watched the Heroes of the Night as they spotted us and came rushing to their Queen's side. Being a hunter himself as he said, “That is why they use the horns now, there is finally a target worth hunting, you All Mother. They will attack soon, to keep you here as the others come.”

  Nerthus' grip tightened on the pike, she looked lost in memory as she shook her head slowly as she stood taller and whispered, “They shall not take this night from us.”

  Then she took a warrior's stance, one foot back, the pike laying across one arm stretched behind her, her other arm in a guard position as she grated out in a hiss to the night, “Come.”

  And they came. Bursting out of the cover of the trees, howling out in challenge, holding knives and spears of volcanic glass, wielding clubs as they screeched out with a guttural language in rage. I dropped my arms so Dite could twist around me, her back to me as she drew back on her Assassin's bow.

  Intark planted his feet as he moved back to back with Nerthus, while Jania pulled Samantha behind her as she drew back on the string of her bow. The Heroes of the Night made a protective ring around our group, lowering their own pikes or drawing their blades.

  The All Mother said, “Hold. Steady... steady... hold.” The shrieking elves with blackish-blue skin bore down upon us with single-minded purpose, and just before they clashed with us, she said, “Now!”

  Jania started letting arrows fly almost faster than my Verr could track, as Dite picked each of her targets, each falling with one of her slim arrows through their eyes, as the rest of us prepared. I would trust in Dite, and not pull Wrath until it was absolutely necessary. We needed this Sund to be successful and I would not ruin our chances.

  Then they were on us, shrieking out in that clicking and guttural language our translators were not familiar with. Something was bothering me about the signal horns as I watched the warriors clash, but I couldn't quite place my finger on it.

  I spun and ducked as Aphrodite needed a clear line of sight as she fired volley after volley, rapidly depleting her store of arrows. We were so in tune with each other, it felt like some sort of deadly dance.

  Then something unexpected happened, just when the howling, oncoming Dark Elves would have engaged Dite hand to hand, they tried to get around her instead of attacking. She hesitated mid-strike as two more rushed past us.

  We turned to see the enemy all converging on a single target. They engaged the Heroes of the Night as they ringed Nerthus and Intark, rushing past us without engaging. Then the horns sounded again and hundreds of Dark Elves exploded from the forest from the east.

  I looked at the last of the first group as they charged forward, and deliberately took a step into the path of one as the others streamed past us. Only then did she hiss and swing her black glass blade at me. I slapped her arm aside, a blue lattice spreading from the point of impact, and I didn't even feel it.

  The Dökkálfar woman stumbled and hit the ground, hissing and rolling to her feet as she scrambled past me toward the same target as the rest. Aphrodite made the same realization as I had as she called out while we rushed to aid the others who were fully engaged in battle, “They're targeting the Queen!”

  We ran after the charging Dark Elves and I took in their attire. They wore skins and furs, with strips of bark and twigs tied together for virtually ineffective armor. They hadn't even entered the bronze age of evolution with their weapons. Their arms were woefully inferior to those of the Ljósálfar, their training looked nonexistent as they just threw themselves at the armored warriors, trying to get past them.

  I just watched one after another fall. Something seemed off to me again, we had only moments before the second wave joined the first. The horns had stopped. I glanced at the incoming Elves, their skin seemed to absorb the moonlight as they swarmed toward us. Virtually none of them even had the makeshift armor or weapons of the others. Some were unarmed and some held just rocks or branches they must have picked up along the way when they were called by the horns.

  I looked at them and stepped out and watched them approach, laying a hand on Dite's bow to force her arm down. “Hold.” Then the Dark Elves just streamed past us.

  If the Queen never walked the night after her Sund, how would these Dökkálfar even know who she was? Then my eyes widened when that niggling feeling that something was off crystalized as I spun
back to watch who the attackers were looking at, hatred and rage in their eyes.

  I looked again at the poorly armed newcomers, some without weapons at all and I yelled out, “They are not after the Queen, they are targeting Intark!”

  Did they know of the Ragnarok? Of course, they did. It was naive of us to think they hadn't come across them in the eons they subjugated the Light Elves. That hatred in their eyes tells me that whatever interaction they had with the occupying force, it had stoked an almost blinding hate, even after all the centuries which have passed since the exodus.

  So they had to have an oral history like the Light Elves to have recognized Intark's race. That meant the guttural sounds they made were indeed some sort of language our translators couldn't put into context yet.

  When a Ragnarok was spotted, they must have called all able-bodied adults to deal with a threat they saw as greater than the Ljósálfar they attacked every night. They were single-minded in their push to get at Intark who was prepared to strike the moment the dark elves breached the ring of Heroes of the Night.

  Again, my eyes widened at another realization, “Stop! Don't hurt them! Most of them are civilians! They are attacking something they see as more dangerous than your people, All Mother! They recognize a Ragnarok!”

  Nerthus looked up from where she held her pike at the ready, with an obvious skill which spoke of many years of training. She met my eyes, and I saw the young Light Elf, who had watched all her friends killed in front of her, a young woman who suffered the hell of a battle she should never have survived. The fire of a woman who wanted her revenge for feeling a failure in all her success.

  I shouted one last time as I strode into the mass of bodies pushing forward, a few taking the opportunity to slash at me, my lattice flaring, rendering their strikes ineffectual. I locked eyes with the Queen and said above the shrieks and growls, “Some are unarmed... defenseless! They are scared, so scared they are risking death at your blades to deal with the more dangerous perceived threat to their people. The ones who had enslaved your people for eons.”

  The bloodlust in her eyes faded and she gave me a hateful look as she actually took the time to observe the ongoing battle. Then she growled loudly my way, looking frustrated as she flipped her pike so the blunted end faced forward. “Heroes of the Night, do not use lethal force. We retreat to the fortified farmhouse.”

  She thrust her pike between two men to strike a woman in the forehead with the blunt end of the pike, and the Dark Elf's eyes rolled back in her head as she slumped into unconsciousness. Nerthus spewed a string of Elvish curses which the translators were beginning to understand and had even me blushing. Then she growled out at our big man, who had stowed his blades back wherever he had pulled them from, “I'm regretting my choice in involving you, it seems I was too clever for my own good, Intark.”

  He huffed out a single chuckle. “Perish the thought, All Mother. You are as clever as you are wise.”

  She actually chuckled and shook her head as she said, “Bantering with an Andskoti and sparing the Dökkálfar, what else could transpire this night?”

  They chuckled in camaraderie, causing me to cock an eyebrow as I started throwing Dark Elves away from the armored Ljósálfar, Dite doing the same as she slapped away some pathetic attempts to strike her.

  Intark reached forward and grabbed a wounded Light Elf and pulled him back and shoved him toward the Queen as we all moved slowly toward the stone farmhouse. The big man moved to close the circle as Nerthus got under the injured man's arm and helped him along.

  I looked on at Essa's husband in a new light as I watched while he just took blows from the enraged attackers, only reacting if they had a weapon, and then only disarmed them. Wounds on his arms healing slowly as he only had civilian Asgard nanites. He looked... ashamed.

  “Dite, to Intark.” I swung my eyes as I nudged my chin. She took two running steps at me and I cupped my hands and heaved when she stepped into them. I watched as she flipped through the air in a long soaring arc over the hoard and over the ring of defenders. With a thud, she landed on two Dark Elves, and rode them down to the ground, in front of our Ragnarok ally.

  She slugged him in the gut and shook her head, red-streaked black hair billowing in the wind. “It wasn't you, you are not responsible for the acts of your ancestors. Defend yourself or I'll put you down myself.”

  I smiled at her, she was insightful and intelligent and tych did she fill out her... focus Artemis! I huffed then took a running leap and had to correct my self in mid-jump as I overshot the group, and only my Olympian reflexes kept me from tumbling across the ground when I landed in a three-point stance beyond my mark.

  Zeus' Balls. I had cleared over twenty yards, over twice what I could normally do. It was going to take time for me to get used to being more powerful as my Verr finish rewriting my genetic code to that of an Asgard.

  I waded through the horde to Dite's side as I called out to the oncoming wave of Dökkálfar, “Please stop! We don't need to fight here!”

  One of the pikemen growled out beside me as we shielded Intark, “They will not listen, this is what they do. Barely more than animals. We should be dispatching them instead of...”

  Nerthus' voice snapped out like a whip above the din of battle. “Do as you are bid by your Queen, and do not question my orders!”

  He responded quickly, eyes down in embarrassment, “Yes, All Mother.” Then I intercepted a club on my forearm, which had been swinging at his head in his distraction. The club cracked and snapped in half as my lattice flared, I almost felt that one. The Elf gave me a nod of thanks before turning back to the onslaught.

  We reached the farmhouse and the men pressed a sequence of stones on the wall, and a click was heard over the battle, then the stone door swung in with a grinding and scraping sound. Our group pulled inside, and Intark and I stood at the door, pushing the Dark Elves back as they howled and screamed out in their clicking guttural tones.

  The Ljósálfar were calling out for us to close the door as Intrak and I scanned the horde. I called out in sudden fear, “Samantha? Jania?”

  Intark asked as I blocked the door with my body, lattice flaring as it absorbed attacks to me, “Did you see them after the attack began.”

  I shook my head and said, “No. I thought they were in the ring of defenders.”

  I used one of Kate's favorite curses, “Fuck!” Then looked up to the man towering over me. “Protect the queen, I'll find them!” Then I shoved him back with my newfound strength, and even then it was difficult. He protested as I stepped out, letting the door click shut behind me.

  I pushed through the horde who were virtually ignoring me as they tried to get into the stone farmhouse to get at Intark. My eyes scanning the bodies on the field of battle frantically. But Samantha and Jani were nowhere to be seen.

  An overlay bloomed in my vision with an overhead map of the area, just inside the treeline on the eastern edge of the farms, there was a blip strobing, with Sammie's identification scrolling under it. I sighed in relief when her healthy vitals were displayed under it.

  I whispered to myself, “What are you doing out there Samantha?” Then I started running.

  Chapter 10 – The Dökkálfar of Alfheim

  I was amazed at how fast I could cover ground now. I was leaping over incoming Dark Elves as I went, they were just trickling in now and I looked back to see at least two or three hundred swarming around the fortified farmhouse.

  I slowed and hesitated when a shorter Dökkálfar, who had fallen behind the others came limping along on a crutch, one leg malformed, a large sack tied to her back which had vegetables and bundles of grain sticking out of it. She brandished a small branch or root like a weapon in her free hand as she made her way toward the others, fear, and determination in her eyes.

  She froze when she saw me looking back towards the woods, then around me toward the farmhouse. Her indecision turned to determination as she shuffled forward. I
just blinked at her, she was no warrior, she was stealing food...? Were they just trying to feed their people?

  The lame Dark Elf would be slaughtered in a moment if she had come up against the Heroes of the Night. Did her kind see the Ragnarok as such a threat that they disregarded their personal safety to deal with them?

  I looked back, our group was safe inside the stone structure, so I stepped aside. She shuffled past, keeping her eyes down and not meeting my gaze as she spoke in that clicking guttural language. It sounded like a prayer, or an apology, or both.

  I stood there blinking as I watched her go to what I was positive she saw as her own doom, but the alternative if she didn't she viewed as so much worse. I swallowed and thought of all I've seen this night, wondering if things weren't as they seemed here. If the Dökkálfar were the feral, mindless killing machines we were told, why have so many of them ignored me to go for what they saw as the greater threat? Even what I saw as their non-combatants, their civilians.

  I started running again, through empty fields, no more Dark Elves with their light absorbing blackish-blue skin were to be seen. I leapt as I reached the low stone wall at the treeline and landed on a branch of the nearest tree, about ten feet from the forest floor.

  Just as I was about to activate my new armor's night vision as I pulled the hood up, the Verr anticipated my needs and the world brightened, coming to life around me as I saw readouts indicating I was seeing in the normal light spectrum and infrared spectrum with artificial enhancements added from active scanning.

  Besides the colors being odd, I could see as clear as day. I thought, “You really have to stop eavesdropping on my thoughts.” I hesitated and added, “Thank you.”

  I snorted at the message scrolling, “Far Striker is welcome.”

  Then I looked over the map with the locator beacon again, Samantha hadn't moved at all, she was somewhere straight ahead, fifty yards. I was about to call out, but I didn't know if I should telegraph I was there, let alone let anyone know I was looking for someone out here. Stealth was the order of the day.