As kael walked out of the stable, Thorold watched him go, a thoughtful expression on his face. He held a piece of rag in his hands, rubbing it absently as he pondered the strange encounter.
What had brought kael out to the stable on this dark and quiet night? Thorold's eyes narrowed as he gazed out into the darkness, his mind whirling with possibilities. As he stood there, lost in thought, his eyes drifted back to the horse that kael had described. The horse was standing quietly in its stall, its eyes calm and peaceful. Thorold's gaze lingered on the horse for a moment, and then he turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows of the stable. The only sound was the soft rustling of the hay and the distant hooting of an owl, echoing through the night air. And with that, the darkness closed in, shrouding the stable and its secrets in an impenetrable veil of night. Kael, a young guard, stepped out of his quarters and into the bustling streets of the ancient city. The air was thick with the smell of hot metal, freshly baked bread, and the acrid tang of sweat. The city was a hive of activity, with people from all walks of life hurrying to and fro. As Kael walked, he was intercepted by his friend and fellow guard, Vigdis Shadowfire. Vigdis was a tall, lanky man with a mop of unruly black hair and a quick wit. "Hey, Kael! What's got you looking like you've lost your last marble?" Vigdis asked, falling into step beside Kael. Kael shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. "Just didn't sleep well, that's all." Vigdis raised an eyebrow. "You're not still having those weird dreams, are you? The ones where you're running through the forest, chasing after the Norns?" Kael shot Vigdis a warning look. "Shut up, Vigdis. It's nothing like that." Vigdis chuckled. "Oh, come on! You're not going to start sleepwalking like old Thorgrim, are you? You know, they say he used to get up in the middle of the night and try to wrestle the household gods." Kael rolled his eyes. "That's just an old wives' tale, Vigdis." The two guards walked on, making their way through the crowded streets. They passed by the temple of Odin, where the priests were chanting and burning incense. They walked by the blacksmiths' quarter, where the sound of hammering on metal filled the air. As they turned a corner, they came to a small eatery, tucked away in a quiet alley. The sign above the door read "The Golden Boar", and the smell of roasting meat wafted out into the street. Kael and Vigdis ducked inside, taking a seat at a wooden table. The proprietor, a stout woman with a warm smile, came over to take their order. "What'll it be, lads?" she asked. Vigdis grinned. "We'll take the usual, please. A plate of your finest salted pork and some of those delicious barley cakes." Kael nodded in agreement, and the woman bustled off to prepare their meal. As they waited for their food to arrive, Vigdis leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, Kael, what's really going on? You're not still spooked by those dreams, are you?" Kael sighed and leaned back in his chair, his eyes gazing upwards as if seeking the gods' guidance. "I swear to the All-Father, Vigdis, I've never had a night like that before. I was awoken by a voice, a whisper that seemed to come from all around me. It was calling my name, summoning me to the stable." Just as Kael began to explain, the proprietor interrupted with their meal. "Here you go, lads! Your salted pork and barley cakes, fresh from the hearth!" She set down a steaming hot plate in front of each of them, the aroma of roasting meat and freshly baked bread wafting up to tease their senses. Vigdis dug in with gusto, but Kael's appetite was tempered by his desire to recount the events of the previous night. "As I said, Vigdis, I was summoned to the stable by a voice. When I arrived, I saw one of the horses, a mare named Sleipnir's Gift, lying on the ground. And then...and then she rose up, her coat covered in some sort of dark, tar-like substance. And her eyes...her eyes glowed with an otherworldly light." Vigdis looked up from his meal, a skeptical expression on his face. "It's just a dream, isn't it? None of them are real." He shook his head, his voice dripping with doubt. "Kael, you must be mistaken. I know what I saw that night, and mind you, I wasn't sleeping. I was awake. The moon was full, the stars were shining bright, and I saw nothing out of the ordinary." Kael's face fell, his eyes clouding over with frustration. "I'm telling you, Vigdis, I saw what I saw. And it was no dream." "What are you going to do now, Kael?" Vigdis asked, his brow furrowed with concern. Kael shrugged. "I don't know, maybe just forget about it!. Thorold told me to see the Völva Kaida." Vigdis's eyes widened in surprise. "Thorold! You mean Thorold was right there that night?" Kael shook his head. "Not that he saw what I saw, but..." Vigdis interrupted him. "I think you should do what he said. You should speak with the Völva Kaida. Maybe she'll find some good words to tell you, some wisdom to guide you through this strange time." Kael nodded, feeling a sense of disbelief wash over him. I know that look when I see one. You don't think she can help do you. But Vigdis was already standing up, his eyes glancing towards the city gate. "We should get going. We don't want the Hersir to put us on a níðing pole for not showing up at the Burh." Kael grinned, feeling a sense of camaraderie with his friend. "You're right, let's go."
Latest Chapter
Chapter 75: The Shattered Veil
Kael felt a pulse within the sword that instant when his eyes met with Draumfangr, it was like a low, thrumming hum that began to build like the deep vibrations of a storm stirring within his chest. The Einherjar’s Blade had never felt like this before. It was no longer simply an extension of his arm, but it had become something else. He could feel it very much alive, reacting to the awakening of Draumfangr, attuned to the terrible magic flooding through Svarthallr. A beast with talons like obsidian struck at his side, but Kael spun just in time, blocking the blow with his sword. The impact sent shockwaves through his body, but it was the blade that sang its edge glowing bright, brighter than the moonlight. Then the world shifted. The moment he held the sword steady, an eclipse of magic washed over him, the blade glowing with a white hot radiance. Kael was awakening with it. The scroll flared in his other hand, and the runes on it writhed like serpents, pulsing in rhythm wit
Chapter 74: The Eye Beneath the World
The ground groaned like the breath of a dying god. Kael staggered back as the stone floor buckled, cracks racing outward from the Runic Pillar. Draumfangr’s eye was vast, slitted, and older than the Nine Realms , had opened. there was no iris. No mercy. It was Just an abyss of golden fire, that was watching. “Run,” Kaida gasped, her voice thinned by pain and a strong fate. “You must run, Kael...now... run!” A shieldmaiden, her face pale and bloodied, didn’t wait. She seized Kael’s arm and pulled. The tremor split through the chamber, sending chunks of obsidian crashing from the ceiling. Kael immediately shoved the scroll into his satchel. Draumfangr’s eye followed him as he turned, the sword of the Einherjar glowing in response to the creature's presence. The blade trembled in his grip. It knew this name. It feared it. The breath of Eir flared inside him, golden veins of light spidering up his arms, fortifying his limbs. His wounds closed. His pulse surged with a god wroug
Chapter 73: The First Blow of the End
Skuggrbani’s roar was not of beast nor man. It was the scream of molten steel being torn apart, of cursed runes breaking and reshaping with every breath. Its eyes blazed like twin suns devoured by shadow. Kael’s blade gleamed as he raised it high. “Einherjar! Shieldmaidens! Strike first and strike deep!” The war cry of the North rose like a tidal wave, and the ground quaked under their charge. Shieldmaidens slammed into Skuggrbani’s legs, driving spears into its joints. Dwarven hammer mages hurled bolts of crushed starlight, cracking through its armor. The elves of Alfheim loosed arrows of radiant wind , yet still, the beast moved. A single swing of its molten arm crushed five men and sent ash flying. “Kael!” Astrid shouted from below, deflecting a falling stone with her shield. “Its heart, the rune-core! It's corrupt but alive!” Kael’s eyes narrowed. “Then we cut it out.” With a leap only an Einherjar could make, he vaulted from a pile of shattered rock and drove his b
Chapter 72: Thrym's Flame
The skies over Nørhaven wept ash. From the blackened clouds above, a crimson light pulsed like the breath of some ancient beast. A heat began to rise that turned even the snow beneath Kael’s boots into steam. The wind smelled of scorched bone and molten iron. All knew what this meant. The Fire Lord had come. Kael stood at the northern watchtower, his eyes narrowed against the thick smoke rolling over the frost-bitten hills. In the distance, rising over the horizon, came the blaze of Muspelheim’s vanguard. Fire giants marched like burning towers, each step leaving charred scars across the land. At the center, looming above all, came Thrym, his sword was Twilight, glowing with the light of a dying star. "Sound the Gjallarhorn," Kael ordered, his voice steady. The guard nodded, sprinting toward the horn at the wall’s edge. Below, the ranks of Nørhaven's defenders braced. The shieldmaidens of Svanhild’s Fortress arrived first, their armor gleaming with divine light At the fa
Chapter 71: Mjölnir Forge And The Weapons of the Damned
In the mountains where Mjölnir was once born, the betrayer now labored to end the realms. Far to the east, beyond the frost bitten peaks of the Dvergfjell Mountains, where thunder once crowned the heavens and the forge of the gods had layed sealed in the depths of the stone, now awakened. The same forge that birthed Mjölnir, the hammer of storms. Now, it answered to Loki. The fire no longer roared gold. It now bled black and violet, hissing with sorcery and great darkness . Anvils cracked with cries not heard since the First War. Chains made from serpent spine and soul iron dangled from the ceiling. This was no forge of creation, it had become the grindstone of oblivion. Loki stood at its center, his eyes wild with purpose. He was not alone. Thrym the frost giant watched his frost giants Pounding heavy metals around the forge. the chill of Jotunheim pouring off him. Hrym, massive and silent, crouched in the shadows, his eyes fixed on the flames. And Jörmungandr, the gr
Chapter 70
Kael chuckled under his breath, the rim of his cup pausing just at his lips. The tavern still burned with life but right outside. outside the moon hung low and wide, like a silver shield in the sky. Stars blinked above the rooftops, and the streets of the northern hold were quiet but for three voices making their way out of the tavern and stumbling through the silence. Kael staggered on the left, steady but swaying, his cloak dragging behind him. Vigdis leaned to the right, humming a half forgotten ballad about a shieldmaiden who once drank a frost giant under the table. Between them, Astrid had her arms hooked around their shoulders, keeping both men from falling and yet barely walking straight herself. "Kael, son of snow and storm," "oh... sorry I head the men called you son of the North,"she slurred, laughing. "You walk like a half frozen elk that forgot its legs." "And you," Kael grunted, elbowing her lightly, "smell like a goat that bathed in mjød." Vigdis roared with
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