CHAPTER 1
Going home—the sound of that was sweet musicto his ears. This was his last day after five years ofservice to the king of the Kingdom Mjolnir. Agnar wasgetting dressed for a party being held in his honor,a custom when soldiers leave the King's Service.Agnar was a member of Fort Hermana, under thecommand of Baldur. I'll miss the men, thought Agnar.Agnar shooed his Sekhmet, a wolverine, off his bed.Lazily his Sekhmet, named Bangsi, jumped onto thefloor and curled into a ball. "Heim Til þinn," orderedAgnar, and instantly, his Sekhmet disappeared into aball of smoke. Agnar, a ferreter by profession, hadthe ability to telepathically talk to his Sekhmet. Thecommand, meaning "home" or "into your cage" wasalways obeyed. All ferreters used Sekhmets; someused lions, others used great apes. If any foes attacka ferreter, his Sekhmet will attack immediately.
Daydreaming, he recalled his youth in Trátop Coven.Such good times were those, playing in and aroundthe Tree of Life, dancing, playing hide-and-seek, andstealing gourd from the vines. He even recalled hisfirst kiss: sweet Björg, beautiful creature she was. Helaughed out loud at the memory of his mother whenshe had caught Björg and him holding hands andtalking innocently about when they got older. Theyhad not a care in the world. Suddenly, he returned toreality when Bangsi snored weeeeeeesnortsnort in thebed.
Agnar looked around his quarters, small, comfortable,with all the regular furnishings. As he was buttoningup his shirt, high-collared white linen with pearlbuttons, he glanced in the mirror to make sure itfit right. The elf-human greeting him back was ahandsome person, with almost human appearance. Ifnot for the slightly elongated points on his ears, helooked like any normal human with golden hair. Hewas abnormally tall for an elf, not for a human. As hetook his tabard from his bed, he heard a knock on thedoor. "Come."
The door opened, and in came Baldur. "Well, well,aren't you a sight for sore eyes!" exclaimed Baldur.Baldur had been his commanding officer for the lastfour years and looked book-perfect as a commander.He was about a head taller than Agnar. He wasmuscular and clean-shaven and was wearing a tabardbearing the symbol of the warrior. "I just came by togive you your severance pay and such. I shall see youat the party. The guys kinda pitched in for a good-byepresent," said Baldur as he tossed a pouch onto thebed. "Oh, yes ... You get to keep your mount aspart of your wages for signing up." Baldur saluted andexited the room.
Agnar went to the bed and grabbed the pouch. Insidewere five hundred Ten-Sheckles, a realm pass, and alooking glass, obviously made by the gnomes in thefort. He smiled, picked up the collapsed looking glass,and examined it. When it expanded, it allowed himto see great distances. He collapsed the looking glassand put it in the rucksack next to the bed. He wasgoing to sorely miss his companions.
Before leaving the room, Agnar examined hissurroundings. With a deep gasp of breath, hewondered if he would miss his lodgings. Beforehim, the sun was winking out for the evening, thepinkish-red skies falling. He stared for a bit at thegarrisons' command post, the sentries lining the wall.To the right were the stables and the blacksmiths'work area. He listened to the singing of the nightcrickets and smelled the dung, which clung in the air.Turning to the left, he could see the serene newlylit campfires and the lances stacked against thedefensive wall. The walls were made from bouldersreinforced with hewn logs ... Straight ahead was themedical facility, and beyond that was the main gate.Just beyond that lay the village. Like any defensiveposts, villages always sprung up because of thesoldiers. There always were the many ladies of thenight, bars, and shops—like any typical shire. Well, Iguess I should get to Boars Head ... Can't keep thepeople wait, thought Agnar as he strode toward thevillage. He couldn't help but notice the air surroundinghim: the pungent smells from the campfires, thesmells from the kitchens, the occasional barking ofdogs.
Entering the inn Boars Head, he was greeted withthe familiar sight of mounted heads—goats, bears,lions, and deer—swords, and blunderbusses. Thelong tables were laden with food and drink; thesmells from the table fare was scrumptious. Theguests—mostly humans but some elves, dwarfs, andgnomes—gave the aroma of leathery sweat, andthe perfumes from the lady guests emitted a tangyodor inside Boars Head. Gagns greeted Agnar witha "G-g-g-g-good evening, join the p-p-p-p-party" inhis stammering squeaky voice. He was a tiny thing,about knee-high to Agnar, with the ability to teleportby blinking. Gagns blinked back to the bar where hewas tending to the till. Agnar spotted the table with aspace next to Baldur that was reserved for him, andhe made his way to it. People were slapping him onthe back, saying "Great to see ye," "Wish it were me,""Miss you," "Hey, short-timer," and such. Eventually,he made it to the seat and greeted Baldur. "This isa fantastic get-together. I'm honored." He could seecountless people that he had worked with, including aferreter with a tiger as his Sekhmet.
Shouting above the din, Baldur responded,"Everyone here will miss you terribly. Here, grab somebriny mead." And he shoved a mug in Agnar's hand."We have plenty of meats, breads, fruits, and most ofall, women! All on us!" he exclaimed.
Agnar grinned from ear to ear as he observed thatthe band was coming up on the stage. With the bandin full gear, the party roared its approval, laughing andshowing its consent. Agnar was subscribed to dancingwith one of the ladies of the night; everyone wasclapping and shouting approvals. As the mead tookcontrol of the night, the partygoers were engrossedin conversations, embellished, of course, withsentry duties with Agnar. The meals were consumedzealously, calling for more meats and, of course, moremead. He was captivated with the companionship, thefriendship of his companions, and the atmosphere ofBoars Head.
Agnar finally made his way and sat at the table. As hetook a break, he observed that Baldur was all smilesand that he truly felt a bond between them. "Let usforever keep the bond of friendship, regardless ofdistance or circumstances," Agnar added.
"Aye," responded Baldur, "I regard you as abrother!" Baldur saluted, brought up a mug of mead,and said, "Salute! Salute! Salute!" With that, thecrowd roared, and everyone raised a mug. "Speech!Speech! Speech!" the solders cried as they bangedtheir mugs in approval. Agnar stood and motioned forsilence. "You are the most generous, pleasant, andhonorable group I have ever worked with. I raise mytankard to you!" With that, the crowd went wild.
CHAPTER 2
Homecoming was not a time of rejoicing, instead,a somber, sorrowful event. Agnar was greeted withthe woeful news that his mother had died due to ascorpion sting. Because his mother was human, thesting was always fatal (elves were impervious topoisons). She was comatose within a day and died thenext day. The funeral was held the day Agnar arrived;everyone was kindhearted, offering consolations andthe Coven turned up in mass. The elven villagersfabricated the pyre raft, amassed the wood, andplaced her gently atop. She looked regal and serenedressed in her best garb, adorned with a crown. Afterservices were finished, the raft was set adrift, and hisfather, Afmyndur, set the pyre afire with a fire arrow.Agnar would not leave, even when all the membersof the Coven had departed. Agnar watched the raftsink with sorrow. He was numbed by the death of hismother, dumbfounded and confused, like a lost soulthat no one could console. She was a kind, gentlewoman, always ready to come to his rescue whenhe was a lad. She will be sorely missed; her softpersuasive voice, always right when giving counsel.
"Fyrirgefa mér." Agnar was startled. Lost inthought, he didn't notice his father coming up behindhim. His father, shorter than Baldur by a head,was dressed in black, as most of those people inattendance. "I am so sorry for your loss. Your motherwas a wonderful person. I will always have pleasantmemories of her."
"Faður minn. I don't have the words to express,"choked Agnar. "If only I had departed earlier from thefort."
Afmyndur grasped both of Agnar's shoulders,stared into his eyes, and said, "Don't." His father thenhugged him.
Agnar had never been hugged by his father; elvesdo not display public emotions. The two of them stoodsilent for a moment, and then Agnar hugged himback. "Come, let us go home. We need to talk," saidAfmyndur.
After the two had entered the tree house, Agnarscanned the abode; the first time since he camehome, really. The round door was as he remembered,with a small window in the oak wood. Memories ofhis mother filled his mind: meals together, when hewas ill as a child, her singing in the evenings when hewas sent to bed. "Do you want some melon-dew tea?"asked his father.
"Yes, please. I probably feel a bit lonely as you.What now happens in the Coven?" replied Agnar,trying to invent something to talk about."Ah, well, some of the Dark Elves are speaking ofreconciliation. But they are the exception. Here withyour tea," his father said as he handed it to him. "TheCoven is growing thin. Many are leaving for the southshores. Oh, lest I forget, Björg whispered to me thatshe wants to see you ... She was at the service."Sipping silently on the tea, in deep contemplation, hecontinued, "Will you be attending the farewell event?She would like you to go. Had I died rather than yourmother, I would wish you to go."
"I will go! Will Björg be attending? I have much todiscuss with her."
"What are you going to do now for work? You don'tneed to soak in despair ... I can help you, if youwish," offered his father. Agnar was still dressed in histraveling garb and looked forlorn about the spaciousroom. The table he was sitting on was on the left sideof the room, a fireplace in the middle, and sittingchairs opposite to the fireplace.
"I know not, perhaps after a good night's sleep.It is good to gather my thoughts as to plans for thefuture," said Agnar.
The great event went well; the attendees, dressed allin black with hair wreaths, swapped memories of hismother. The mourners enjoyed typical elven food anddrink. It was good to hear laughter again, strange asit sounded. There was Eyglo and his family, Erna andher daughters, and Elmar with his clan. Of course,Björg, along with her father and her brother, Dabbi,showed up. Her father, Herman, was the council lead,an important position, for the Wood Elves. As Agnarwalked toward Björg, he noticed that Herman pokedher on the shoulder and excused himself. "Björgminelskan," greeted Agnar.
"I feel sorrow about your mother," said Björg.Björg was as beautiful as he had remembered beforeleaving to join the realm defenses. Her long blackhair, adorned with flowers, flowed down toward herbuttocks. She had a button nose, pink lips, and brightalmond-shaped clear blue eyes. She was six yearsyounger than Agnar, and he had been in love withher since they were children. "How do you fare?"requested Björg.
Agnar couldn't help but notice that she wouldnot meet his eyes; she stared gloomily at the floor."Thank you ... I am well. I have been lookingforward for years to meeting you again, but underdifferent circumstances. How are your father andDabbi? Are you well? What's wrong?" asked Agnar.
"Well, let us a walk. I must tell you something," sheresponded with a sad voice. "Dabbi must chaperoneus ... Father said that I cannot be alone with you."
After evading the guests, they finally made theirway to the balcony. She continued, "Father hasforbidden me to marry you. I do so love you ...But to marry, we need to get consent from Father. Ifeel that as you are not of full-blooded elf, the othercouncil members would not approve."
Dabbi interjects, "Please excuse me. I will be overby the other branch ... Give you privacy."
Agnar placed her hands in his, gazing into hereyes. "I understand perhaps ... But we have talkedfor years about marriage. I cannot live here in theCoven without you. But we cannot marry withoutconsent"—with a half-smile attempt—"at least you arenot running away with another man." He wiped a tearfrom her eyes.
Sobbing gently, she said, "Never, my love. I willnever forget you." She pressed into his right fist asilver cameo and kissed Agnar softly. "Good-bye, mylove." And she slipped away.
Stunned with the dashed dreams plus the passingof his mother, he could do nothing as he watched hislove depart. His knees felt weak, falling to a kneelingposition on the floor. He sat there for over an hour,pondering what next.
"My son ... I did not have the heart to tell you.I am so sorry." Agnar heard his father's voice behindhim.
"Life is such ... It seems nothing but burdens.What will befall me now?" moaned Agnar.
"Come, my son. Perhaps you will benefit from rest.My heart aches with you. Time heals all wounds," saidAfmyndur as he assisted his son to his feet. "You havesuffered too much for one day. Please come and rest."
CHAPTER 3
Sitting on his throne in Donjon Örrispa, Ormur,his head between his hands, was listening to counselwith disdain. Ormur was a demigod, offspring of thegods, not human but human in appearance. His agewas unknown to mortals. He had shoulder-lengthblack hair that obscured his face. His regal blackrobes were adorned with precious gems around theneck. He was holding a mace in his right hand. Tohis left, the entrance was staffed with two armor-cladorc sentries. The throne itself appeared to be stone,adorned with black stone gargoyles on top. Below,kneeling on the red carpet, were two Sverðingi garbedin a military dress with their helmets held in theirleft hands. Between them, standing on one knee,was Svaramin. Behind Svaramin was Salim-Dug, anÁpstil commander. Svaramin was dressed in a typicaltan-colored warlock robe with a belt draped at hiswaist. "Sire, you should listen to the prophecies. Soon,the heavens will be ripe for Eldfjall to reawaken," saidSvaramin. Ormur lifted his gaze on Svaramin, his colddark eyes glistened. Ormur drank up the image beforehim: an old, of undetermined years, man supportedby his brown ashen warlock staff.
"You are correct, Svaramin, you have always beenright. We shall implement our plan immediately, andwhen Eldfjall wakes, we will strike a mortal blow toour enemies!" Ormur smirked as he beckoned forHaraljot. "You are responsible for increasing theoutposts, especially around the Great Gate in LavaPass. Send reinforcements, trolls, but do it quietly soas to not alert the enemy."
"As you command, Sire." Haraljot took leave fromthe throne room.
"And, Harasnorra, you will send more spies abroad.This is essential, gnome inventions are highly prized.You must capture as many gnomes as possible!Without the gnomes, the game will be lost. Andincrease by double the wyverns and wraith riders,keeping them from the border areas." Harasnorrasnorted assent and, with a clinched right fist, thumpedhimself on the chest as a salute. "Thy will be done."And Harasnorra left the throne room.
Instructing Salim-Dug, he said, "I commandyou send your swiftest steeds, have your scoutsreconnoiter the area near, and then the same aroundTemple Uppsala. Do not engage in combat. Reportyour findings to Harasnorra."
Turning back Svaramin, Ormur said, "Obtain asmany ogres as you need for the new mage tower inthe south. Leave me now." After Svaramin had left,Ormur let out a loud laugh in his deep voice and said,"Revenge will be mine."
Agnar fell into a deep sleep after the events of theday. Toward midnight, his mother appeared. "Sonurminn, vakna big." Here, Mother talking to me ... Itcannot be, is this a dream?
She appeared in a glow, an aura that couldbe perceived but not touched. "I am real, my son,but not of your life. Tomorrow, you will meetSnjofell, and you must do as he instructs you. TheWorm will destroy everything in its path. With longtentacles—dark, evil, multi-armed—it spares noone ... The dark cloud descends upon us all soon.Scandium must be protected and not fall in the handsof Worm." And soon, she disappeared as quickly asshe appeared. Agnar woke up in a soaking sweat, thefog in his mind fighting to go free. Attempting to goback to dreamland, he found it useless. He went intothe kitchen to wait for Afmyndur rising.
Afmyndur woke, dressed, and entered the kitchenfor his daily melon-dew tea. He was greeted by adisheveled Agnar. "Did you have a bad sleep? You lookdisturbed."
"Bad dreams, I did not sleep well. Who is Snjofell?"asked Agnar.
"He is old as the ages. He always was and alwayswill be. He attended the wedding between me andyour mother. He has always been a friend of the elves,even when the Dark Elves and Wood Elves were one.I know not if he is human. Never asked him. You don'tremember him. You were four years of age when hecame to visit last. Why do you ask?"
