The Old And Forgotten Gods (God Of War)

II

Eir stared curiously at the blades which laid next to the burly white man, admiring the clean forgery, but taking notice of the chains connected to them which matched the scars burnt into his forearms. Kneading her brows together in thought, she carefully and quietly crawled over to the man and picked up one of the heavy blades, the chain rattling as it was lifted.

Though not as heavy as her axe, she couldn't imagine what it would be like to hold two of these single-handedly, and assumably, have them molded to your arm by the chains, being forced to carry them on your travels.

But as her finger trailed across the sharpened end of the blade, she heard a disgruntled grunt come from inches behind her, and she quickly turned her head, her dark brown eyes meeting with his. Reading his seemingly annoyed expression, she placed the blade down then shimmied across to him, sitting on her knees as he sat up straight, his legs crossed. Their legs were now inches apart.

"Where am I?" The man asked her. Without yet an answer, she held the palm of her hands out to him, suggesting that she take his hands. He obliged, his cold rough hands laying in hers as she fiddled around and examined them closely. The hands were in no way soft like Eirs, and honestly, they were quite the opposite: large and scarred from blisters, his nails stained underneath with blood and dirt, and his knuckles bruised.

Softly, she ran her hand up his arm and over the scars burnt into his flesh shaped as chains wrapped around his forearm. She closed her eyes as she felt them more closely. "You've been burdened."

"I suppose." He replies.

"I feel your pain." She says as her eyes open and her hands meet back with his, holding them tightly. "You've traveled far, ghost of Sparta."

"How did you—"

"There is lots you do not know yet." She sighed, looking to her right at the fire that crackled in heat. "Currently, you are between all nine realms. You reside in the Midgard realm, land of the humans. Though lately... it's been more than just them." She looked to him. "But I suspect that is not the exact answer you were looking for. And to answer; you are in land of new gods—new for you, old for me."

Kratos nodded his head, looking down for a moment as he thought to himself. "And these gods, I am to stay clear of them?"

"Oh, most certainly. Especially Odin, king of gods, the 'All Father'. There is no doubt that people will talk and the gods will hear, but for now, you are safest here, in Midgard."

"I see. And who are you?"

"You may call me Eir. That is all you need know of me. Now, let us get back to my home. I can continue to heal your wounds there, and shelter you from this awful winter." She stood, Kratos hesitantly following, towering over behind her as he watched the top of her head while they left the cave.

A gust of the biting cold wind slapped against them as they cut through the thick pile of snow, and Eir mumbled to herself as she blocked her face from the snow "by the gods, I'd almost think this to be fimbulwinter." which Kratos heard, but chose to ignore. Knowledge was not something he wished to have, therefore he typically minded his own business, killing first and, well, never really asking questions later.

But the short journey had finally come to its end as they approached the small wooden cabin buried in snow surrounded by trees. She bursted through the door, the strong winds following as the two entered and she slammed the door shut, finally reaching the calm blocked from the storm. It was dark, so as she hung her axe on a platform extending from the ceiling, she walked to the fireplace built into the floor and scratched two rocks together until the sparks created fire. She splashed a liquid which fueled the fire and helped it grow, and her and Kratos sat on the bed next to it, huddled close together, holding out their hands for warmth.

After a short while, Eir grew weary and esurient herself. She stood and walked to a bowl full of freshly picked fruits she'd grown herself in a garden not too far from the house. She carried them back to the bed and offered some to Kratos, who politely declined and continued to stare to the fire while Eir satiated her hunger.

Finally, Eir placed the bowl down and walked to the herbs she had strung up across the ceiling, pulling some down and taking them to another bowl, where she then poured them into a pot of water that she held over the fire, the water eventually boiling. As she took the pot from the fire, Kratos watched curiously as Eir stared to the bubbling and piping hot water, clapping her hands together and closing her eyes.

Kratos reached to stop the mad woman as she went to dip her hands inside, but paused once they'd already gone in and no reaction came from her. She swirled them around, the water circling as it followed the motions of her hands, and it eventually turned green, then purple. Kratos leaned forward and gazed at the water, finally looking up to find that Eir stared directly to him. She smiled, bringing her hand up from the water, revealing that it was completely dry, as if it were untouched by the water.

She placed her hand against his chest and pushed him until he lay flat on his back. She picked up the pot and placed it on the floor, then finally cupping her hand into it and bringing up a handful of water, being careful as to not spill it. She poured the warm water over his torso which immediately relieved Kratos of his physical pain. He closed his eyes and let out a pleased sigh as she continued to pour little at a time over the bruises, sores, and small scars. Over time, these pains eventually disappeared completely, leaving behind no marks.

Kratos woke suddenly, questioning when he even fell asleep. He glanced around the small cozy cabin and spotted Eir sitting across the room with her back to him. Her arms motioned before her as if she were messing with something. He stood, walking to her, the floor creaking as he approached, and standing over, revealing that she cut into a doe that lay cold and stiff on the wooden table before her. She'd already skinned it, and was now cutting pieces of meat from it.

"How long have I been asleep?" Kratos finally speaks.

Without changing focus, Eir replied "three days." Kratos looked up from her and walked to the door, pushing it open to see the snow storm had finally come to a stop, the sheets of snow slowly melting as the warm sun shown from high above. He stepped out, his foot imprinting into the thin snow and pressing against the dead grass beneath. He closed his eyes, letting his eyes drift upwards to the blue skies above, trees surrounding him, and he took a deep breath,

then let out a sigh.