The Valkyrie & The Viking

Chapter 4: The Dwarf on the Shore of the River

S

he stared up at the tree in wonder. The song was true! If there really was twin birds and a tree, then perhaps the rest was true as well. There might actually be a man who could alter fate. But at the same time, the birds didn’t appear to be in flight. What did it mean when it said “twin birds’ flying tree”?

            Her answer came a short moment later when she looked down at the river. The shadow of the birds landed on the edge of the water. The current distorted the edges of the wings, making them appear to waver in the air…it almost looked as if they were flying.

            “Domstoll!” she called. He ran over to where she was still watching the dark image of the birds in the river. She pointed to the shadow and smiled. “The tales you heard have some truth to them: Look!”

            He looked at the shadow in confusion, but then understanding flashed in his eyes and he laughed. “The gods must be with us! We could have my fate changed long before my time is up if we continue to have such fortune.”

            “Yes, this gives me hope that our quest might succeed.”

            “If this was true, what does the rest of the song mean: ‘Whence false words be spoken, give yet to them no token’?”

            “False words…” she muttered. Before when she had thought through the riddle she hadn’t given much thought to its meaning, but now that she knew that it had the potential to lead somewhere the words stirred up some long-forgotten memory deep inside her. She struggled to pull the memory to the surface of her mind, and slowly, very slowly, she began to remember a conversation she’d heard by chance three centuries earlier.

            I was walking, she recalled, with my lord…in the gardens of Asgard…the goddess Snotra was strolling among the flowers with young disciples, bestowing her wisdom upon them…we stopped for a moment to collect herbs, and I heard her speaking to the children about a rare spell almost never seen.

            “With this spell you can create a false life,” she’d said, “a fabricated identity formed from the spirit of a lost soul that will forever play the role you assign it. You can choose one command to give this false life, and it will repeat that command over and over for all eternity. While the weak use this spell as a simple deception, as these forms have no physical presence, the powerful can use them as a potent curse. You see, students, if anyone should give anything to a false life, whether it be out of generosity or any other reason, the spell of the false life will pass through the object into the giver, making them just as they are. They will become just another spirit, forever doomed to repeat the same action in an endless cycle. It is a punishment I would not wish upon even the worst of men and gods alike.”

            Svipul felt a jolt of fear travel through her spine as the last of the wise goddess’ lesson was brought to her mind. “Domstoll, did you give anything to the townspeople? A gift, a form of payment, anything?”

             “No, I did not. Though if you think it was impolite we can return and give—”