Sacrifice 09

Dreams were a funny thing. They had a way of taking form, shaping themselves from nothing into a full blown imaginings. All it took was a key, a trigger, like long buried memories and the whispered words of a divine being. Even in her deep sleep, the words reached her mind, repeating over and over, causing Alana to frown.

“…were supposed to have died together at the top of Yggsdrasil!”

Alana didn’t know why those words bothered her so, her subconscious spinning them round and round, key phrases echoing in her mind. Alana found herself falling, her long blonde hair drifting upwards, her hands pushing at her skirt, trying to hold it down. It was dark all around her, but bit by bit her surroundings came into focus. Her feet gently touched down on stone, weathered rock that was gray with black lines forming a spider web pattern on the floor.

Alana gazed around, seeing the endless night sky all around her, the black fading to a purplish blue that was dotted with millions upon millions of stars. There was no land to connect this island to any other continent, it hovered in the sky. Impossible to be real, and yet it existed, she was sure of it.

Large stones of ebony protruded out of the ground, forming pillars around the island. She walked, hearing her footsteps echo as she moved forward, seeing a white light up ahead. She had to squint to look at it directly, holding a hand over her eyes for protection. It was a crystal, shining it’s pure pristine light, sparkles shooting upwards into the sky. It sat on raised stone, steps carved directly into the ground that led upwards.

Alana tore her eyes away from that object, glancing up to see there was no roof over her head, the pillars holding up air. Stones floated around, multicolored gems that looked far too heavy to stay up in the air. But they did, gleaming, holding untold wealth in just the tiniest sliver of their skin.

She was still looking around in awe when she heard it. A set of footsteps, tread heavy as something passed her by. With a gasp Alana was turning, seeing the back of a man. His hair was long, emerald strands tied back with a red ribbon. A leather sheathe filled to overflowing with arrows was strapped to his back, a crude looking bow hanging from his hip.

He walked towards the light, completely ignoring her. “The power of the Gods.” His voice startled her, loud and holding a touch of excitement to it. He stopped before the crystal, just staring at it. Making Alana wonder how his eyes could stand the sight of the light.

With an excited sound, he moved forward, arms spread out as though to embrace the crystal. But a loud noise was heard, like a bolt of lighting, the man being thrown away from the crystal. He landed on his back, one hand held over his face, and gasping Alana rushed to his side.

“Are you okay?” She asked, dropping to her knees, trying to get a look at him. He cried out in pain, keeping his face covered, squirming in place on the ground.

“None shall lay hands upon it!” Another voice said, deep voice stern as though chiding children. Alana looked away from the injured man, to look at the crystal. She saw a man with white hair that was peppered with gray slowly floating before the crystal. His face was obscured by a weapon, a double bladed lance that reflected the light.

Alana was vaguely aware of the man sitting up next to her, but she was transfixed by this new person on the scene. There was just something about him that commanded attention. “Especially you…” He hissed out the last word, lowering his weapon, and Alana gasped. His face was young compared to that of his hair, no lines to mar his face, and his expression was arrogant, his eyes cruel looking. A circlet encircled his head, a heavy jewel sitting upon the center of his forehead, signifying him as some sort of royal personage.

“You! You’re Odin!” gasped the man next to her, Alana unable to look away from the God. To her horror she realized the man was drawing his weapon, shooting off an arrow.

Odin easily deflected the projectile with his lance, twirling it around before him. “A lowly vessel…” began Odin, a hint of anger to his snobbish voice. “…trying to obtain the power of the God? Such arrogance!”

“Now that I find a little hard to believe.” Out the corner of her eye, Alana saw the man slowly stand up, hands on his knees as he dusted off the dirt from his pants. His voice was disdainful, almost mocking the God with his words. “Who’d think arrogance would ever offend you!” A hand thrust forward, finger pointing accusingly at the God.

“Imbecile.” Odin began swinging his weapon about, testing it’s weight as he talked. “It’s time you learned just what a God is!” Thunder boomed, punctuating his words, and a chill wind blew back Alana’s hair.

Nervous she stood, beginning to back away. Inch by inch she walked, seeing the man draw an arrow, placing it on his bow. With a yell he was charging forth, torpedoing the God with his arrows, shafts of purple light. It was an uneven fight, the archer no match for the God. With a swing of his lance, the bowman was airborne, flying up high, only to come crashing down hard into the stone.

Compassion moved her, Alana crying out. The archer made no sound, lying face down on the cold tile. She ran to his side, falling to her knees, her hands touching his back, trying to shake him awake.

“It is a shame to waste such a vessel, but no one commits sacrilege against me!” announced Odin, taking his time in striding forward. He was cocky arrogance at best, sure his victory was at hand. “Away human!”

With a start she realized he was talking to her, and she gasped, cowering before the God. The look he gave her chilled her to the bone, making her tremble though she did not move. “The human host of Silmeria?!” Odin sounded surprised, but that emotion was quickly replaced by disdain. “You think that entitles you to be here?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Alana cried out, trying to sound bold.

“Blaspheming, undead impostor!” His words confused her, Alana knowing she was anything but what he called her. He took another step forward, lazily twirling his weapon, and she moved, going to stand in front of the unconscious archer. She spread out her arms wide, her intent to protect him.

“Heh…” Odin smirked. “To oblivion with the both of you!” He lifted the lance high up above his head, eyes intent on Alana. She gasped, and screwed her eyes tightly shut, repeating to herself this was only a dream. She heard Odin let out a yell, a vicious sounding war cry, and felt the breeze stirred up by the movement of his arm.

With a startled shout, Alana sat up, finding herself tangled in heavy bed sheets. She glanced around, eyes blinking rapidly as she stared at the bedroom, for a second feeling relief. But the dream stuck with her, a frown on her face as she realized that in her dream, she had died.

It was a horrific feeling, to dream one’s own death, and for a second her face crumpled in despair. But no tears fell, Alana’s fingers finding her eyes were dry. She covered her face with her hands, a muffled sound, half laugh, half sob escaping her. I’m tired. She realized with a sigh. It’s the only explanation. Tried and confused, and my head is full of foolish notions.

But she felt unease, wondering why she had dreamt of Odin. Why him? Out of all the Gods she could have dreamt about, she would have expected her dreams to be about Rufus. He tried to fill her mind with foolish notions of being that Alicia person, and yet for all his attempts she dreamt not of her, but of someone else completely. Her frown deepened, recalling the mysterious archer in her dream. She hadn’t seen his face, couldn’t remember the sound of his voice, but one thing stuck out in her mind. His hair! It had held the green of the forest to it, and she realized with a start it was the same shade of green as her abductor’s hair.

It couldn’t be mere coincidence. Alana frowned, shaking her head no. Never had she seen a person with such an exotic color for their hair. Only a God would be bold enough to allow such an unnatural hue to color their hair. And though she hadn’t seen the archer’s face, could not remember the sound of his voice, she was sure he had represented Rufus in her dream.

“I can’t even find escape from him in my sleep.” Alana sighed, hands reaching for the blanket. She untangled it from her legs, smoothing down her rumpled blue skirts with a sigh. She wished she had dreamt of something pleasant, of her mother and father, or of her village and friends. But would that have been any better than to dream about Rufus? She feared it would not, knowing a part of her heart would have broken to wake up and find herself not snug in her own bed.

Alana crawled to the edge of the bed, placing her slipper covered feet onto the carpeted floor. For one brief moment she just perched on the edge of the bed, looking around the room blankly. She had no idea of what she should do next, knowing if she had been home there would have been chores to occupy her time. Here there was nothing for her, nothing but the opportunity to sit and wait, and mull over the events of yesterday.

Not that she looked forward to reliving the time she had spent in the God’s presence, knowing it was more apt to cause her to tear up than comfort her. Alana didn’t want that, she was tired of crying, tired of feeling afraid. She needed something to keep herself busy, and with a heavy sigh she began pacing the floor of her prison. Her skirts dragged across the floor, feeling as heavy as her heart.

The dream was still on her mind, leaving her to wonder what has caused her to have such a dream. A nagging thought wormed it’s way through her head, whispering in her ear. Telling her that no matter what she had tried to do in it, the outcome would have been the same. That she was as helpless then as she was now, unable to change fate no matter how much she wished otherwise.

Her pacing brought her over to the window, Alana gazing at the garden scene. It almost made her smile, the girl placing her hands palm down on the glass surface as she watched the faeries tend to the flowers. She stared at the tiny workers, unconsciously pressing down with her hands, and with a startled cry felt the glass move. It split down the center, a sweet smelling breeze wafting pass her, stirring up her hair. Alana pushed harder on the glass, opening the gap wider, feeling the sunlight on her hands.

A colorful blur sped by her face, and she turned to track it. Faeries, their clothing and wings as bright and colorful as a rainbow had entered the room. They flew about, examining the bedroom with fascinated interest, touching things and knocking over papers. One found a potted plant, and immediately set about to tending to it’s soil. Others circled about Alana curiously, one bold faerie getting right in her face, studying the girl’s features.

At a nod from her, they were moving, touching Alana’s hair, pulling on her skirts. She couldn’t help laughing, feeling them try to tug her closer to the open window. “All right, all right!” She exclaimed, giggling. “I’ll go with you.”

An excited cheer was her answer, faeries flitting past her to dive back into the garden. Alana reached up to grip the sides of the window frame, her feet climbing up onto the sill. It was a small drop to the ground, Alana easily landing upright on her feet. She felt a warm furry body rub up against her legs, Alana glancing downwards to see a brown spotted feline with golden fur. It’s head came up to her knees, and as it noticed her attention, it flopped over onto it’s side, purring loudly. Entranced, Alana knelt down to touch the creature, fingers caressing the softest fur she had ever felt.

Other cats were in the garden, some watching her curiously, others feigning indifference to the newcomer in their surroundings. They were all exotic looking, and similarly sized, ebony blacks and bright golden hues, among silver gray and even dabbled red felines. With a lick of her fingers, the spotted one rose to it’s paws, butting it’s head against her hand. She stroked under it’s chin, and then stood, looking around the garden.

Carefully tended rows of flowers were blooming under the care of the faeries, a variety of exotic looking plants that were a colorful array amidst all the green of the grass and shrubs. Alana had no way of knowing that when viewed from above, the flowers formed intricate patterns into the garden’s ground, the girl limited to seeing them from a more mundane perspective.

Even with that limited view she could appreciate the beauty of the garden, smelling the fragrant perfumes the flowers released. She walked among the rows, fingers touching a petal here and there, marveling at the feel of their satin soft surface. Her feline companion followed her, winding it’s way around her ankles, playful meows as it demanded her attention.

Faeries were huddled around a flower, and at her approach they lifted into the air, revealing a sickly looking plant. One faerie remained, her face sad as she tried to tend to the ailing flower. “What’s wrong?” asked Alana softly, bending down to peer at the flower. The faerie shook her head, and pointed at gnarled roots that protruded from the soil. Alana saw they were weeds, an ugly blight on an otherwise perfect garden.

The faerie flitted around the weeds, trying to pull at the roots, but lacked the strength to snap the weeds free from the soil. “Can I help?” Alana asked, fingers hovering uncertainly over the weeds. At the little woman’s nod, Alana reached for the weed, pulling on it with all her might. It stuck fast to the ground, wanting to choke the life out of the plant it had attached itself too. But little by little, encouraged by the hope in the winged woman’s eyes, she got the weed free.

A cheer erupted from the faeries, a colorful bunch of them circling around Alana, chattering excitedly. “You’re welcome.” She smiled, than looked around. “Is there anything else I can do?” She was led over to a bare patch of freshly tilled dirt, a small bag laying overturned on it’s side, spilling seeds out onto the ground. The faeries looked expectantly at her, and she nodded, getting down on her knees.

“Like this?” She asked, digging her hands into the dirt, scooping some aside to make a deep hole. A pink haired faerie swooped down, dropping a seed into the hole she had created, Alana then easing the dirt to cover up the seed. The faeries watched her do this a few more times, than satisfied she knew what to do flew off to tend to their own assigned tasks. She and the pink haired woman worked side by side, diligently planting new life into the ground.

Alana actually smiled as she did this, glad to be made useful. The work was dirty, but fulfilling, reminding her very much of the times she had helped her mother care for the vegetable garden in their backyard. She worked without complaint, listening to the buzz of faerie wings, their excited chatter pleasant background noise. She barely noticed when they grew even more excited, continuing to dig holes into the ground.

It wasn’t until a shadow fell over her, blocking out the warmth of the sun that she stiffened, realizing the garden had another visitor. She was turning to peer over her shoulder, even as he spoke, his voice sounding amused. “Alicia, just what are you doing?”

“Rufus…” Alana frowned, gazing up at him, seeing his face hidden in shadows. He moved, the sunlight hitting his face, and at the sight of his handsome features, memories came rushing back. It wasn’t the memories Rufus would have hoped for, instead it was the events of the night before that came back to her. She remembered waking up, scared by her dreams, Rufus there to comfort her. Of the God taking her to get something to eat, of the horrific sight of the boar, and their argument. An argument she did not remember finishing, and she frowned, trying to recall the last thing she had said.

Her cry of no echoed in her mind, and with a start she realized that Rufus had forced his will on her, making her sleep when she hadn’t been tired. Anger flared in Alana, a soft growl escaping her lips. God or no, he goes too far! She thought annoyed, brushing her dirt covered hands on her dress. She went to stand, Rufus solicitously reaching down to help her up. She chased away his hands, wanting to stand on her own, even as she slowly turned to face him.

She could tell the anger on her face surprised him, made the God take a step back as he warily eyed her. “I guess you’re still mad…” He started to say, and it took all of Alana’s self control to keep from slapping him.

“Of course I am!” She snapped, hands on her hips. “Did you really think that by making me sleep that would solve everything?”

“I…” His face looked uncertain, the God choosing his words carefully. “I don’t know.” He said at last with a deep sigh. “I just thought…hoped that come morning things would be different…less upsetting for you.”

“Well it’s not.” replied Alana, sure her eyes were flashing with anger. “You keep doing that! You keep seeking to avoid confrontation.” She explained with a shake of her head. “Running away when things don’t go your way…or putting me to sleep to avoid a truth you don’t want to hear. It doesn’t solve anything, doesn’t make it better, doesn’t make the pain any less!”

“I’m sorry…” His head dropped downwards, Rufus looking ashamed.

“You should be!” Her fingers curled, bunching up the material on her hips as she fought not to make two fists out of her hands. “How can we ever move past this if you won’t face me?”

“I’ll…try to do better.” Rufus said in answer. “It’s the best I can promise.” A hopeful look from him, the God offering her a tentative smile. “You want to move forward with me?”

“I…” Now it was her turn to lower her eyes, looking away from him. “I don’t know. I…we can’t continue the way we’ve been acting…it won’t benefit either of us.” She sighed, risking a look up at him. “It will make my time here a miserable experience for both of us…I don’t want that…” She shook her head, fighting a frown. “It’s only my second day here and I am so tired of fighting with you…fighting and crying.”

“I don’t like it anymore than you do.” Rufus admitted. “Your tears pain me. I never wanted to be the source of your sorrow. And yet I’ve become just that.” A crooked smile then, a nervous laugh escaping him. “Funny how things work out.”

“Yes…” She sighed, not seeing the humor in his words.

“So…” An uncertain word from him, the God blinking rapidly as he looked at her. “Why don’t you get changed?” She glanced down, seeing her skirts had gotten soiled with dirt, Alana offering up a hasty apology.

“I’m so sorry…I didn’t mean to ruin your dress!”

“It’s only a little dirt.” Rufus smiled to show it was no big deal, but Alana was frowning and shaking her head no.

“It was careless of me…” Alana sighed, knowing that if she was back home she’d have to make do with the dirty dress until she could clean it.

“I’m sure the einherjar can clean it.” continued Rufus.

“No, I should do it.” Alana said. “It’s my mess.”

“All right…” Rufus said, clearly not wanting to argue with her over this. “Do that and get changed. I’ll go get you some breakfast in the meantime. And then.”

“Then?” asked Alana curiously.

“Then I think it’s time I give you a tour of Asgard.” He smiled, green eyes twinkling with warmth and merriment.