Date: Mörsugur 18th, 598. (Alt: 31st Dec, 598 AD.) Location: Götaland (Ancient Sweden.)
Heath quickly hides his hand behind himself, forcefully assimilates it into his body and recreates a perfectly new, uncharred hand to show he was fine.
"Are you suicidal?" Agnarr says aloud, teaching Valyria a new word in the process. "What? Nooᵒᵒ." Heath waves his hand in the air, showing the still glowing sigil. "I was only trying to gain new knowledge, Óðinn did hang himself for the same result, after all."
"So what have you learned now?" Gorm says with a fringed eyebrow, eyes staring towards him like a wolf ready to pounce on any weakness with his pack. "A way to keep our people safe when leaving the outside world, for the soul to enter a private digital world to access a vestigial body that can be controlled in our reality through a pod. Do you wish for me to show you?" Heath raises his hand to allow him to transfer it, first waiting for him to say yes. "No." Gorm says, staring down at him, making Heath feel small, even with the height difference.
"I gave you a chance, Heath. And while you do not feel any weaker, you still harmed yourself and the Auto I sent to protect you. In front of your own daughter." Heath was reminded of Paddington's stare to keep others' manners in check. The law was laid as he raised his hand.
Gorm pointed at him with a straightened finger that felt more accurate than any arrow. "No usage of ANY magic, no powers. NOTHING!" He walked a step forward, the crunching of the tall grass sounding like dying embers. "Understood?" Heath buckled under this pressure. "Yes, Gorm." He nodded so quickly that it looked like a chicken bobbing. "Good, Valyria, do not allow him any part in its creation of this technology, he will give you the knowledge for it as soon as possible to reduce any afterthoughts." Gorm lastly places a hand on his forehead.
"Do not give a girl who is less than a winter old these habits. Valyria holds everything you do, and I am worried that she would gain this mentality herself in the future if you continue this." He then pulls his hands in front and back towards himself, signalling for a private talk.
Gorm and Heath walk a further bit away, no one else around them except for a patch of tall flowers that was up to waist height for Gorm. He gives Heath a more complicated stare that tries to decipher why he has suddenly become so much more impulsive. "You may raise your child differently than I, but would you enjoy seeing her destroyed in an explosion? You were not like this when I first saw you. Yes, you were flamboyant as you would say, but also a perfectionist in your designs." He now waits for a response, which takes a while to articulate.
". . . You are right." Heath stares down at his once charred hand. "I feel inadequate for such a large project, so I wish to expand quickly. With such sudden power, I feel it necessary to provide for others, would they not wish to help others the same way?" He clenches his fist.
"What? By putting themselves upon a pyre? Create themselves as unwitting martyrs to a cause that would be impossible to recreate for anyone else?" Gorm gave a conceited smile. "Do not be ridiculous. There are better ways. Even I, with less knowledge than you know." He breathes a last strain of anger out of him, lastly keeping a weariness to him that shows he is worried for a brother. "You are capable of so much more than this. And I have said it before, but think of your family. Put it through that thick head of yours." Gorm rubs his nose softly.
"Feeling like a sneeze?" Heath asks, as he remembered his uncle did the same when hay fever plays up. "Yeah, the plants grow too quickly in these lands, the smell is quite strong." He walks back with Heath behind him before they suddenly stop again.
"Thank you for not being rebellious, even if you did workarounds. You could easily choose not to listen to me." Gorm sees Heath smile in response. "I wish to keep the people I hold dear to in this life." Heath blurs his eyes while walking. "Aye, so do I." They walk back in a comfortable silence, reaching a form of common ground. "Your daughter is quite strong for handling that compared to your own hand." Egill responds with a more chipper tone. "Yeah, it was lucky. Well, you sound like good news has happened as well, what is it?" Heath asks.
"It involves the memories of our captured prisoners. A few supplies that fell at the previous caravan may still be salvageable!" Egill pictures some of the things that were seen. "A unique batch of different seeds from beyond the sea at the south of our lands." He grabs a notepad.
"One that looks closer to a few of our darker berries, yet larger and grown on the trees." He draws something similar to prunes. "Another that has thicker skin, wrinkled and of a bright yellow, said to be sweet and sour." He draws quinces and their flowers side by side. "Lastly, there were these bright red to dark purple fruits that were full of ripened juice, great for your possible drinks, Heath." Again, he draws plums on the last page. "You can draw very quickly, learned the pen and paper well, Egill." Heath gave an OK hand sign to further his point.
"Thank you! Helps that I use the magic spell you showed from that runic injector to raise my thought processing speed. I would have learnt it sooner if there was knowledge of the mind in our tomes." He puts the notepad and pen back into his hidden cloak pocket.
"And about minds. Here is the knowledge, Valyria." Heath touched the back of Valyria's neck and gave a flash of blue light in his eyes. A transfer of knowledge was given, and now she knows what to do as well. "The information has been given, now I have to figure out a power source for the machine-" "Oh no. You do not." Heath is cut off by Hervor. "Give that knowledge to Valyria, you do not get to go into any of your testing extremes that lead to more injuries." She taps with the front of her sabaton to show impatience. "Have. A. Break."
Hervor's expletive tone made Heath internally roll his eyes, but he obliged nonetheless. "Of course. From the bottom of my soul." With an X over his chest as well. (Very fancy.) She checked his eyes in case there might be any dissuasion from his promise, but she saw none.
Of course, she understood she could feel his soul's emotional state with how open he is, but it was better to follow this situation personally. She gave a satisfied smile before going into Agnarr's arms again. "I hope all of you have a nice quest. Do not get caught up in anything." Heath wished them farewell. "We will be fine, you explained many of their weaknesses and how to play with their arrogance. So relax, Heath!" Egill agrees, while also repeating Hervor's sentence through focused wording.
"I will, coome oon." Heath drawled out, causing the others to snicker in response. "Alright, we are leaving." Gorm turned into a more serious expression. "Let us go." They walk off towards the portal to who-knows-where before Heath suddenly yells back.
"Oh, wait!" Heath's sudden raise caused the group of 7 to pause in their tracks. "While I have said in the past they are known for being cruel to others, it does not do justice to what they are capable of. If you find others that were captured by them, bring them here. We could give them treatment. And for the Dökkálfar being the culprits, give them to me. For I can provide reasonable punishment." Heath's explanation was met with a single snort by Leif. "Made into scared animals?" Leif recalled, almost as an understatement.
"That was an accident, and you know it." Heath felt a wave of guilt from that, but he powered through. "With the sigil, which does not need to be powered by me, could be used to give them something that fits their crimes, if necessary, something worse than death."
Many of their eyes widened in response. "I did not think you had it in you." Sigrid sees it as impressive, if slightly troubling. "While it is a part of me, it follows my old world's most advanced laws, it does not matter if it is cold, it must be just. None shall be blind to reality." Heath plays into his bravado, knowing it is something hard to swallow if no confidence is put into it. "You seem to be growing both in power and in clarity when you are not destroying yourself from within. Solve that and we are eternal." Gorm nods, then turns to Valyria.
"Keep him in check, will you?" Gorm's regaled expression was met with another round of silent laughter before they finally left. Now lighter than before. "- Hah, it can be hard talking to people sometimes. But it pays off." Heath said part of an internal thought to himself.
"Seems easy to you, Papa. When would I learn to talk like that?" Valyria asks him, doing her best to learn from the man who created her. "Time, experience, and seeing social queues. I am planning to create a sociology runic injector for this purpose, others like you would need a crash course through it, after all." Heath puts his hands on his hips and raises his head to the sky, now seeing that the time is past midday. "*Heh*I wonder how I could show you information on nuclear energy when I only know the basics of it." He looks back down.
"We could experiment?" Valyria's comment caused Heath's mouth to pull a long bow shape. "No, too much potential danger. We may need to figure out other forms of power." Heath looks towards where the crops are grown, and how the artificial rain cascades down it.
"I had a solar panel system on my roof in my old realm, and if I remember right, the record of the most efficient photovoltaic setter was a III-V four-junction concentrating photovoltaic (CPV) cell, using gallium indium phosphide (GaInP) and aluminium gallium arsenide (AlGaAs), which was bonded onto the lower tandem solar cell made of gallium indium arsenide phosphide (GaInAsP) and gallium indium arsenide (GaInAs) in a flat structure, set under a four-layer ARC film stack." He reminds himself of the details, even if they are ever so vague.
He tries to imagine how it would be. "And I know the process of how to motorise a three-bladed windmill, and with possible added reinforcements from borophene, it could be placed through with a CrCoNi and nanotube mixture for support, then copper for runic inscriptions."
"*?*I see, that would work well. Though it would be hard to apply." Valyria says, though her expression showed she did not know a thing about what he was talking about. "I will try to describe it to you later. I know it is hard to understand, simply bear with me here." Heath patted her arm before he moved on to a bigger problem. 'How large would this farm be, and how do I deal with transmission loss? Portalling the electricity would be perfect, but I do not know how they interact deeply, nor how to avoid my punishment.' He cups his chin again.
While running his hand down his beard, he remembers many of the old memories he had of his home from before and after he installed the solar panels. 'Time flew by, didn't it?' He internally remarks to himself in English about the years that have gone by. Then shook it off.
"Alright, here is what we are going to do. First, we are going to-" And the scene fades, being too boring for a story like this. It instead moves off to a few Model hours ahead of time, we are in a dark, dried-out cave that is creviced through granite, formed in one incredibly large central chamber that is held up with artificial pillars of cobbled basalt, gneiss and quartzite. All in pure darkness, for the beings that live here do not need the light to exist for them to see in thanks to magic sight. Their vision long since acclimated to thrive in it.
There were smaller rooms split from the large open chamber, where they would sleep in bundles, not due to any form of bonding but simply due to the extreme cold of their environment, as they were placed within the top of a snowy-capped hill.
The largest of the rooms contained the biggest bundle, 3 males of a higher status, naked against a single matriarch. The other 31 were split in groups of 2 males, 1 female. Obvious that each were a political harem. There were 4 females left who had no males to them, outcasts that were grouped together and instead made as warriors for the rest. They acted much like a sadistic ant colony, if there ever could be one. All were asleep due to their diurnal nature, split between half-sleeps during the day and night.
3 of the female warriors were keeping watch and patrolling while 1 was resting on a small dried mud slab that was covered with leather skins, though they were not of common animals. It was from sapient species, trophies from their kills and skinned for use.
There were no remains or bones left in their cave, possibly crushed and used as extra food, but in the matriarch's chamber, 17 skulls, proving for the matronage to their Spiritual Queen. And by the corner of the room, 3 men and 1 woman. Emaciated, yet still alive. Kept for their entertainment value in both masochistic and pleasurable ways. They appear to have not lost all hope and reasoning, still having a shine in their eyes, yet they bauble their heads low and drooping, obvious to not draw attention to themselves in case SHE falsely slept.
A sudden burst of blue light appeared in the chamber, then it just as quickly disappeared. The three guards on post came to check, yet they could not tell that there were any tracks. "Could be the Fylgja appearing for our leader again, but why was it a different colour?"
There are beings guided by fate that are protected by certain spirits from death, accompanied by sudden flashes of light before just as quickly disappearing to show their presence to select minds. This was not it. A sudden small object landed next to the 3 guards, *BBAANNGG!* An incredibly loud flash rang out, the sudden change from pure darkness to blinding light damaged their eyes and they screamed in pain. One, then two shots rang out from Sigrid's shotgun, blowing holes in each of their chests before running onwards.
She used the glowing light of the shotgun to see in front of her, one more was there, startled and staring at her as if she were a spectre. *BOOM* She is lying on the ground, writhing and bleeding too. While Sigrid was doing this, the others swiftly went through each chamber.
Check from the outside, throw a single grenade cover into the room for an explosion, shoot the stragglers that come out, repeat. They did it for all 9 of them, and with such tactics being unheard of for this world, they did not know how to deal with it. One or two tried to slink into the earth and hide, but they were quickly spotted and shot as well, left half-dangling out of the walls and floors. For these being such deadly weapons, they are still holding on to their lives, which goes to show their resiliency.
The last chamber is quickly run towards, and they look in at the same time as a grenade cover was thrown in. Once it explodes, they quickly go in and shoot in all directions. The light and smoke cleared, yet there were only 2 male survivors with no other bodies?
Egill quickly glances around with the mind acceleration magic taught through the runic injector, spotting the matriarch and a male gliding behind them to do a sneak attack. He raises his weapon, and the two enemies spot it, trying to dodge. Yet the bullets were just too quick. *Bang bang* Two consecutive shots rang out, straight through their foreheads. Their momentum carried them until they landed onto Hervor and Gorm, weapons clanging and bouncing off the armour and out of the grips of the two quickly-dead Dökkálfar.
They landed onto the floor, unmoving and oozing their black, hyper-saturated blood onto the flattened stone below. They scanned through each and every room again afterwards, seeing that none had escaped and a few have even died due to their wounds now.
"These weapons are truly dangerous." Egill rubs the hilt of his weapon in a caress, as if trying to appease it. "See? Goes to show we did not need any of the other 99 golems." Hervor gave a friendly taunt to her husband, who had asked for some for their own safety.
"Do not tempt fate that eagerly, dear." Agnarr quickly grabs his portal gun and forms the new portal into the centre of the chamber grounds. "We should throw all of them in, they will be brought to the cage by said 99 in quick order." He grabs the 2 corpses and flings them in.
They then do so for the other 6 dead Álfar and 27 mortally wounded. Which the 99 Custom Bus golems efficiently find them, patch them up with the help of some designated people with greater medical knowledge thanks to runic injectors, and are delivered to the cage.
They disperse back into the matriarch's chambers to collect each and every skull, then they see them. People from the caravan they sent in! "Fróði, Tryggvi, Ragnvaldr, Loyís!" Agnarr shouts with a light to their face, they react by moving away from how bright it is. "Sorry." He moves it away, and it takes time to readjust again. "Ag- Agnar -vr?" Loyís' voice was chipped and broken with a slight clip at the end, caused by months of continuous torture, yet she remembered him all the same. It made the unit all the more guilty of their expectations.
"Yes, it is us." He kept his voice low for no further startling. She tried to give gratitude, yet it came slurred in a way only a cut tongue would do. Either way, it was understood, and they are unshackled to be brought back. "We need blindfolds for their eyes."
Gorm says, looking at the leather-covered beds in disgust. "And we should burn this 'leather' with the skulls. To provide credence for the dead." He handles them with care, where they all work together to put each skull in a leather piece if they were separated. While they would not be distinguished by people, it would be better for it all to be burned away quickly as not to cause a reaction by the general people of the Völsung. If they see such depravity in a people, a growing prejudice for another species may appear, and they do not want war yet.
"I will go get them." Hervor dashes through the portal, goes to the part of the tower where the large cloths are. She gets the smaller ones for chair covers and folds them in such a way that they could fit over one's head. "Heath would be fine with this." She says to herself.
She quickly teleports back and gently places the bags over their heads. They lead them through the portals. While this would have caused them to lose their balance, because they were being carried, it caused no issue. Lucky that they had no contents in their stomach for them to vomit either. They are quickly led to the 4 closest rooms to their own and each are placed in individual beds. "Do we allow Heath to use magic for one time before putting him through it again?" Leif asks his father. "We have no choice, do we?" Gorm looks pityingly.
While you could not see it as well in the dark, you can now tell they are missing many fingers, toes, or if it is not the digits, it is the nails. They have scars all over their bodies or burn contractures where they were quickly patched for them to be used again and toyed with.
One could guess how bad their faces have gone under the makeshift covering, missing noses, lips, tongues or eyes in the picture as well. And the smell, oh, it was worse than a low-quality brothel, yet there were no large stains on them. More than likely washed with whatever fluids they had available. "This seems over the top, even from what Heath has explained." Agnarr says to himself, almost covering his eyes at the sight. "There are extremes in any people, let us hope we meet those who are more ambivalent." Gorm closed himself.
They paid respects to the victims here, staying silent long enough to see the sun dip a fifth over, the golems gathered and have also now placed the skulls in personal crematorial shrines to remove any reference to their torture so they can be at peace in Fólkvangr.
"If we had known. . ." Hervor said to herself, remembering many of their faces, lively and intelligent. "We cannot change it now, we shall talk with the families of the deceased, for their names to be memorised." Eirikr responds, keeping the image of their injuries ingrained to his mind. "Where are the deceased creatures?" He animalised the killed Dökkálfar to about the level of insects in his mind. A silent, yet incredibly depthful temper brewing below his surface. He would desecrate their bodies and not provide proper burial for these things.
"Calm yourself, Eirikr. We know you care." Asdos tries to provide a more respectful outlook. Yet even he had a hard time grasping it. Trying to hold to a shred of decency to provide equal treatment to enemies and allies alike. Eirikr looked at him as if he had horns sprouting.
The golem came back with Heath in tow. Valyria was outside in the hallway so as not to see the gruesome scene. Heath's expression stayed still, before it suddenly MORPHED. The magic that held what he showed himself as fractured, appearing as an abstract concept of pure magic, holding no human shape or definitive form, it appeared spiked and prodding at reality in ways that could be barely perceived by mennskr. But just as it appeared as soon as he came, it reformed itself back to normal the next step in. Sorrow now plastered across.
His ire had not focused on them, being kept away from any of those he trusted. But that sudden sense of wrongness created a chasm of incredible dread so great it felt they were going to be swallowed whole. It is good that they are warriors, or they would have collapsed.
Heath has an expression so hollow that it shows that he knew of such atrocities committed in the past. He raised his arm, and an invisible cone of magic covered all 4 of them, soon repeating that same spell that healed those previously in another time. He suppressed their cortisol and adrenaline, while increasing their melatonin levels. Soon, they no longer felt pain, then immediately fell unconscious, for their stresses and hormonal imbalance from such events were the only things keeping them awake. . .
"Their last meal." Heath spoke, almost to himself. "Was human flesh, forced onto them." His eyes kept on darting between them, seeing something no one else does. "And they will need constant care to reach their previous state, which may take decades." He scowled deeply.
He signals to a nearby Auto to bring in liquid foods and juices, and another to collect the resources. He disappears in a bolt, yet no one tried to stop him. As they could not within their current strength and mind, his steps echoed through the hallway until they reached the portal. He walked through, and then he sprinted. His fury powering him enough that he reached it in moments, the grass behind him fluttering and pulled up in incredible gusts of wind. "Let me in, please." He tried to keep decorum, but his face showed he was seething.
The golems did not know any better, so they let him in. The door opened, he marched in, then it closed behind him. He saw the matriarch and her harem's dead bodies in a corner, and the other 6 in another, which he ignored, refocusing on those who were still alive.
"It seems I have been too lenient." Heath almost chuckled to himself in a self-deploring mood. "No more." He raised his arm, and a punishment was accepted by the sigil.