Emerald Green {Book Two}

Whispers of Fate

The cabin nestled high in the mountain's embrace was both sanctuary and prison. The wind outside howled, a mournful echo to the quiet desperation within. Kisma sat by the hearth, her eyes reflecting the flickering flames, her thoughts heavy with worry. Across the room, Astraea lay on a narrow bed, her once vibrant form now a mere shadow, the illness eating away at her strength like a relentless tide.

"Kisma," Astraea's voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of countless battles fought and wisdom gained. "I see the storm brewing in your eyes. Speak your heart."

Kisma turned, her gaze meeting Astraea's weakened but still piercing blue eyes. "It's about Eryk... telling him about Loki. Was it wise? What if it brings more danger to him?"

Astraea managed a weak smile, her hand trembling as she reached out. "Look at the situation, dear Kisma. I am fading, my strength ebbing with each dawn. You, bound by the ancient decree, cannot intervene in the strife directly. If my son finds himself in peril, who else but his father could aid him? Loki, despite his nature, has a bond with his blood."

Kisma's brow furrowed, the conflict within her palpable. "Will he care for a son he never knew?"

Astraea's smile grew, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Loki will sense it, Kisma. If Eryk's life hangs in the balance, Loki will feel the tug, the call of his own blood. It's not just about knowing; it's about recognizing his own in the fabric of fate."

Kisma sighed, the firelight casting dancing shadows across her face, mirroring the turmoil within. "I hope you're right, Astraea. For Eryk's sake."

Astraea's hand found Kisma's, her grip surprisingly firm for her condition. "Trust in the bonds that tie us, Kisma. Sometimes, they're all we have against the darkness. Eryk has the strength of his lineage, and when the time comes, Loki will not be able to ignore the call of his own. It's the way of the gods, and the way of nature."

The room fell silent, but for the crackling of the fire and the wind's lament outside. Kisma watched over Astraea, her resolve hardening. Whatever the future held, they would face it together, bound by more than just decree or duty. In the quiet of the cabin, amidst the howling winds, they found a moment of peace, a brief respite in the storm of their lives.

The path up the mountain was treacherous, each step a testament to the determination of Eryk, Ada, with her relentless energy, bounced from rock to rock, her voice a constant stream of questions that filled the otherwise silent ascent.

"So, come on, Eryk, why are we really climbing this forsaken mountain? What's at the top? Buried treasure? A secret society meeting? Or are you just running from something?" Ada's eyes sparkled with mischief, her curiosity insatiable.

Eryk, stoic and focused, merely grunted in response, his eyes scanning the path ahead, not just for the physical obstacles but for any sign of pursuit. "It's not about running. It's about getting there," was all he offered, his voice low, guarded.

Undeterred, Ada continued, "Oh, come on! You're like a vault, Eryk. What's so important that it can't be shared with your trusty, albeit annoying, sidekick?" She flashed a cheeky grin, but Eryk's expression remained impassive. Shadow growled in defiance.

Their banter was cut short by a sudden tremor underfoot. The sky darkened as if the clouds themselves recoiled. Instinctively, Eryk grabbed Ada, pulling her and Shadow into a crevice between two massive boulders. Peering out, they saw two colossal figures, gods by their sheer presence and aura, slamming into the mountain's face with a force that sent shards of rock flying.

Hidden, they could only listen as the gods spoke in voices that rumbled like thunder.

"The whispers grow louder. Astraea's child, the myth of Loki's only born son, cannot be allowed to exist if true. It could change everything," one god boomed, his voice filled with disdain.

The other, voice softer but no less potent, responded, "But is he real? Or just a tale spun to keep us on edge, a shadow to chase? Odin was always one for the dramatic."

Eryk's heart raced; the mention of his mother, his lineage, was like a thunderbolt. Beside him, Ada's eyes widened, the gravity of their situation dawning on her.

Eryk and Ada, concealed within the cold embrace of the mountain's crevice, listened as the gods' voices reverberated like doom through the air. Each word they spoke about the mythical child of Astraea and Loki struck Eryk's heart like a hammer on an anvil, forging his resolve with each strike.

As the echoing footsteps of the deities faded, leaving behind a silence as profound as the night, Eryk turned to face Ada. No words passed between them; none were necessary. The air itself seemed to thicken with unspoken truths, the kind that can shatter worlds or bind them anew.

In that moment, Ada felt it. The pieces of myths and legends, whispered in hushed tones around campfires or in the quiet of dark nights, clicked into place. Eryk was the embodiment of those tales—the child of forbidden love between Astraea, the celestial beauty, and Loki, the trickster god. It was said their union had threatened the very fabric of the cosmos, that their child's birth would herald a new era, or perhaps the end of all.

The stories Ada had scoffed at, tales of treason, of a love so profound it could only be deemed treachery, now stood before her in the form of Eryk. Astraea, whose head was rumored to have been severed in retribution for the chaos she and Loki had unleashed, had not died in vain if her son, Eryk, was real.

Eryk's eyes met Ada's, a silent plea for understanding, for acceptance. The weight of his lineage, the possibility that his very existence could unravel the universe, hung between them. The rumors of his mother's death, the love that was never meant to exist, the child whose life was a tear in the fabric of time and space—it all culminated in this moment, on this mountain, with him and her.

Ada's breath caught. here was the potential end or rebirth of everything. Her heart raced, not with fear, but with a fierce protectiveness. Eryk wasn't just a bearer of destiny; he was now her friend, her cause, her secret to keep.

The silence stretched, a tangible thing, until Ada finally spoke, her voice barely a whisper, laden with a newfound gravity. "Eryk, I... I understand now."

Eryk nodded, the acknowledgement in his eyes profound. They were no longer just climbing a mountain; they were ascending into a fate that could redefine existence itself. And Ada, with her wit and her relentless spirit, was now intertwined with this monumental secret, ready to face whatever lay at the summit with him.