The Vixen & the Fox II

The Secret & the Legacy: Chapter 5

The Fjord.

Scandinavian Peninsula, Armillary Sphere...

Tracking a Norn was difficult at best, a nightmare at worse.

More than once, Erik had found himself cursing the wily vixen within the confines of his mind.

He stooped over the tracks he'd been following for a mile now. His eyes trailed over the traces of her magic encased in the ice and embedded in the trees. There was no doubt she had come this way. Rising to his full height, the wind tried to steal his breath as his lungs burned. His ears twitched as the howl of the long night roared through the woods.

Not for the first time, the elf wished he had heeded the signs sooner. He and the wandering Jötun had grown increasingly concerned with their friend's lack of visits to the village, and worse, the lack of sightings of their friend's family members, for weeks now.

Since the dawn of this new world, after an era of never-ending darkness ceased to be, the Nornir had been found again. Mortal though they were, having long since integrated themselves into mortal lines. The Witches were rather ruthless but well respected. Their natures were wild and their loyalty was to the death. They were not afraid to be themselves and did not despair their short lifespans.

In many ways, Erik applauded them for it.

After all, the Norns were the only mortals to be found in this world. Compared to the long life spans of the people around them, they could have easily grown bitter or resentful. Instead, the witches were friendly with all their neighbors, no matter the difference in natures.

However, despite their friendliness, the skulk preferred living reclusively in their own stronghold.

To quote the patriarch of the family, "We're Americans and Vikings. We have stubbornness and independence issues tenfold."

Erik may not understand the entirety of the reference, yet he knew the witches' self-imposed isolation was important to them and the basis for many of their ways.

This did not prevent the family from travelling to the surrounding villages though.

Quite the contrary!

But it also made it common for there to be long stretches of time where no one would see them at all. When such a time came, it wasn't unusual for him or another in the village to make up an excuse to go visit the Nornir. They were all very fond of their mortal neighbors after all.

As of late, he had become slightly neglectful in his visits; given his father's demand he find himself a mate. He had returned alone and was surprised when his friend was not around. Further inquiries had found the village uneasy. He'd quickly learnt that no one had seen the Nornir in almost two moon cycles.

He might have acted on his concern and checked on his friend immediately but he had been waylaid by word of the Oskoreia running free.

Reports of sightings nearby had been coming in by the day. Because of this, his father had issued curfews and safety measures, resulting in no one daring to leave the village to check on their neighbors for another moon cycle. They were left to fend for themselves during the Long Night.

By the time he had been granted permission to travel again, only the Jötun was brave enough to join him.

When the pair had come across the Nornir's dead animals, ruined gardens, and shattered house, he knew they were too late. He could see the power and magic which had torn apart the once lively homestead and knew that the Mikaelsons had not gone lightly. With the aid of Gunnar, he had buried the Nornir's familial beasts and burned what remained before it could rot.