“The gods would not permit it,” the draugr says dismissively, his voice angry. He steps forward but pauses when Fhord holds up a hand. The others do as well, as if all of them respond to Fhord’s silent command.
“This world has changed since you walked its shores. The gods have changed. What once was impossible may come to pass at last.”
The being scoffs, a surprisingly human response. I hadn’t expected the emotion that arises within me with his dismissal of Fhord’s words. “Nothing changes. Ever. The gods will not let it. The world you walk today is the world you will walk in a thousand years. As will we.”
“Maybe so,” Fhord concedes. “Still, hope echoes through this land. You don’t feel it here because the gods control this place. But I tell you it is out there. I can see a path to a new existence. If we succeed, I will return and take this pain from you. On my oath, it shall be.”
My skin tingles with my surprise at Fhord’s traitorous words. Nobody may take or harm something that belongs to the gods. I wish I could see his face. I have no idea why he’s decided I can hear whatever plans he’s hatched. I don’t know what he’s doing, but I know it would get him killed if anyone ever learned of it.
The seconds drag by as the warrior watches Fhord in silence. A slight tilt of his head signals his decision. “What information do you seek?”
Fhord inclines his head in response. When he speaks, it’s almost as if time itself echoes in his words. They carry a weight, a power, I’ve never heard before, even from the most powerful beings in my worlds.
I’ll have many questions for Fhord when we leave this place.
“Tell us of your death.”
I feel the draugr’s response. He’s angry at Fhord. Betrayed. Hurt. “Why would I share that story with you?”
“Do you not wish to speak of it?” Fhord hasn’t moved. I suspect he also felt the warrior’s emotions but decided to plow forward.
“I would not give you that power over me. You are of two hearts. I cannot trust one of them.”
“Tell her, then,” Fhord urges as his arm stretches out and he gestures me forward.
No eyes grace the specter’s face, but it still feels as if he looks at me. Recognizes something in me he didn’t find in Fhord. His emotions shift. Wonder, curiosity, peace now dominate.
“What is your name, female?”
“I’m Sifa.”
“You came far to reach these lands. Have you found your way home?”
“I haven’t. I’m still looking.”
“That is the path you must take. Yet, you have much to do here, and your time to leave may never come.”
My stomach drops, his warning echoing within me. But my desperation to get home is tempered for the first time since I landed here. Fhord’s image ripples through my mind, some ridiculous part of me wondering if I would really leave the world that holds him. I shove that aside, though. I don’t even like the male. I would never choose him over going home. “I hope you’re wrong,” I declare, ignoring that errant thought. “I want to go home.”
“Be patient. You will learn much in time.” The draugr pauses, unmoving. “Would you like to hear of my death, Sifa?”
I try to catch Fhord’s eye, but he’s not looking at me. Instead, his gaze scans the surrounding forest, watching the others as they linger in the nearby trees.
“I would,” I affirm. Fhord must have a reason for asking this.
“And you will keep it from this man who travels with you?”
“Why must I keep it from him?”
Fhord spins as I ask my question, his eyebrows slamming together. “Assure him you won’t share his story with me.”
“But, why?”
“Get his story, Sifa,” Fhord urges, his face softening. “You’ll understand when you do.”
I’m sure he can see my confusion, but he offers no explanation. “Okay,” I say as I turn back to the specter. “I promise I won’t tell Fhord.”
The warrior nods. “Know you Nerthus? Does she still hold power in your lands?”
