Chapter 10:
Kraft:
For all that they were a dying race, most elves did lead long lives before their eventual passing from this world, and Kraft was no exception.
But for all of his many, many years in this world… he wasn’t quite sure how to react to a still living ‘head’ of all things.
On first impression, he’d genuinely thought the pale giant was somehow carrying a Demon head on his belt. Then he remembered that Demons, like all monsters, dissolved into blackened ash when they were killed.
And for all of his fearsome appearance, his traveling companions: a young girl, two young boys, and another elf, didn’t strike him as criminals or bandits. So, he’d allowed himself to relax and welcomed them.
Not that he’d had much choice, of course. There was only one cabin, and to brave the mountain cold would have been… a fairly efficient way to meet the Goddess ahead of his time.
But still, being able to rest easy as he slept was always a plus, all things considered.
Fern and Frieren - the two mages - had helped him haul the goods from his destroyed cart. Kratos, Stark, and Atreus hunted game.
Mimir read, turning pages of his book with a wooden spoon held in his mouth as he was left by the fireplace to enjoy the light and warmth.
They were now on their second day in the cabin, a hare stew merrily bubbling away in the cauldron. Kraft stirred it, occasionally giving it a taste, and adding spices as needed.
“Hey, Mimir,” Stark’s voice called quietly.
“Yes lad?”
“Well- now that you guys understand and can speak the language, I was wondering… well… Why are you a head?”
Kraft’s ears twitched. He noticed Frieren’s did as well, and even Fern stopped whatever she was reading to look, clearly interested in the topic.
The ‘Head’ answered in a way that was almost flippant. “Oh; well, because Kratos cut it off.”
Whatever he’d expected, that… hadn’t been high on the list.
All eyes swiveled onto Kratos, who stared back at them, somewhat bewildered before looking at the Head with an irritated, knowing look. The head Kraft now noted had an impish smile on his face.
“Mimir…” Atreus shook his head as a hand went to his forehead. “It was… complicated,” the boy amended.
“Aye,” Mimir cut in again. “I was cursed, ya see. Dangerous… being. Imprisoned me. Bound to Tree forever, so he could use my mind as he wished. Then Kratos and Atreus came. I saw a way out. I asked him to cut off me head.”
Fern looked rightly horrified, one of her hands shooting up to her mouth. “Was there really no other way to break the curse?”
“No doubt someone could have broken curse. But not Kratos, not Atreus, and who knows if I’d ever see someone else again.”
“And, like… you just kept on being alive? Even though you’re a head?” Stark asked.
“No. Definitely died. But a witch in the forest Kratos knew brought me back to help Brother and the boy.” His eyes darted over in the direction of the two. “Even bein just a head- this existence is preferable to the curse.
“That’s horrible.”
Kraft agreed with the girl.
“What were you guys doing that you needed Mimir? It sounds like he was really far out of the way.” Stark turned his question to Atreus.
“Mother died,” Atreus said quietly. “She wished to have her ashes scattered on the highest peak of the realms. We reached the highest peak of Midgard, found Mimir, and he told us the highest peak of all realms was in Jotunheim. We didn’t know the way, but Mimir did.”
Realms? Kraft had to wonder if that was a deliberate choice, or what the boy was using to say “continents”. Or nations?
“Which is why you needed him. That certainly does explain some things,” Frieren nodded. “The magic surrounding you… it feels like Atreus’s in a way, but his own mastery of magic seems too nascent to be the responsible party.” She looked to the boy. “Was it this witch in the woods that taught you what you know?”
The boy made a ‘so-so’ gesture. “I learned some from Freja. But most I learned from Mother, and by traveling with father.”
“Fighting, you mean.” Frieren’s voice didn’t shift much from her cold tone, but she did smile just a bit, showing she was teasing.
The boy smiled back, nodding sheepishly.
“Fern was mostly self taught when I first met her,” the elf admitted.
Kraft was surprised by that. “Such innate talent is rare.”
His words seemed to startle Fern. “Is it?”
It was Frieren, however, who nodded. “Of course. There are few mages as it is, and those that do exist will never reach beyond the skills of middling mages, even after years of dedicated study and instruction. Picking it up as a child without formal instruction is very rare.”
“And yet, we have two here in our little cabin. Small world,” Kraft commented with a chuckle.
His smile soon died however, as the winds outside howled and wailed, like a wild beast angry that it had been denied its’ prey. A whiteout of snow reminding them all of the blizzard that had trapped them here.
“It sounds like it's getting worse,” Fern lamented.
“It’ll pass,” Frieren reassured, her smile returning. “We can even use it.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” Stark asked.
“Well, between the barrier repair, the language, and helping the people of Granat, we hardly had time to really exchange magic in the city. Now we’re here for at least a few days, so tomorrow, I think we can start with teaching Atreus some of our magic, and learning some of his.”
“Oh?” Kraft asked. “Is his magic of interest to you somehow?”
The elven mage nodded. “Very much so.”
—
The next morning, none of them truly woke up ‘early’ per se. It was cold enough, even with the sun in the sky. To walk out before the light was barely cresting the mountain hills would have been beyond miserable.
But still, wake they did. Stark got to work warming up the remains of the stew as Kraft and Fern began to prepare some bread and dried meats to add to the leftovers, ensuring everyone would get a decent breakfast.
Frieren was still sound asleep. Fern stepped outside for a moment to collect a potful of snowfall to boil in order to make tea. Kratos awoke, walked outside without preamble, and Kraft saw the pale giant quite literally punch the ice off the top of the nearby river stream until it cracked, and then shattered. The large man then stepped into it, likely to bathe.
Needless to say, the warrior was most certainly awake. And very likely to get sick in the coming days now that Kraft thought of it. By the time the warrior came back, food was ready, and both Stark and Fern took the opportunity he’d made to scurry over to the river in order to at least wash out their mouths.
Kratos woke up his own son with a bark of his name. When the boy looked like he was ready to continue sleeping, a handful of icy snow down his back remedied the situation.
Frieren even slept through the young boy’s responsive shriek.
Kraft’s ears were ringing.
Mimir laughed.
That young elf could sleep through anything.
She was still asleep by the time they started. Fern put her share of the meal in a small wooden box, leaving it near the fire to keep it warm.
—
Later, once the sun was high in the sky, they could finally venture beyond the confines of the house without freezing.
Frieren was awake and eating her own share of breakfast, Mimir's head resting atop her lap. Kraft was seated by the front steps, peeling potatoes for the night’s meal.
It was Fern and Atreus who were instructing each other in the use of their respective magics. Kraft listened with one ear to their conversation, and the other listened to Kratos and Stark.
“Hunt,” the Giant rumbled, and for all of his difficulties with the language, there was no doubt that it wasn’t a request. They were going to hunt.
“Great… What’re we- uhhh, hunting?” Stark asked nervously.
“Deer.” He tossed the red clad boy his weapon, Kratos hefting his own axe onto his back.
“Which way?”
“Direction of Deer.”
Kraft wondered if it was just his imagination at hearing a faint tinge of amusement in the pale giant’s voice; perhaps enjoying his language difficulty to make a joke.
“Ratatoskr!”
Fern’s voice now drew the bulk of his attention towards herself and Atreus. The girl’s incantation did nothing, even as Atreus began to form what Kraft recognized as the very basic single hex structure that was the baseline of modern defensive magic.
“I wonder what I’m doing wrong?” The girl puzzled. “Is it my pronunciation of the incantation?”
To Kraft’s ear, she’d imitated Atreus’ pronunciation near perfectly. He was no mage, but priests did wield mana in their own incantations. And he could understand why Atreus’ magic was so fascinating to Frieren.
Atreus shook his head. “No. You’re…” He paused, seemingly trying to form the words, before holding up the single hex magic barrier. “You’re casting magic like this. All you. But Magic also comes from the land itself. You need to use both.”
The girl looked surprised, but then furrowed her brows as she shook her head.
“There’s never been a single tome in all our studies that ties magic to the land. Individual mages have Mana that can be sensed, expanded, and measured. If the world had mana of its own, we would have detected it by now.”
“Does a fish recognize it's in water if he’s never breathed air?” Kraft asked rhetorically.
As Fern and Fireren’s eyes turned to him, he offered a shrug. “It could be that the Mana of the land is simply something we’ve gone without sensing, and we’d instead notice its absence rather than its presence. Just as priests have difficulty casting a mage’s spells, so too do mages have difficulty casting our incantations without our blessings from the goddess or our training. Atreus’ magic could simply be another aspect that you’re having trouble detecting.”
“I suppose so-” The girl looked unsure. Kraft recognized the look. Insecurity. Uncertainty. It must be very hard for such a young human, living in the shadow of a mage like Frieren, measuring yourself to her skill constantly. Facing something she was wholly ignorant of for the first time, some self doubts were surely being prodded.
“Hmm…” The young elf along the periphery of Kraft’s considerations made a sound. “I have an idea. And luckily, there’s a priest here to make it possible.”
“Oh?” Kraft asked, ears twitching, curious.
Frieren nodded. “Centuries ago, when mankind was first discovering magic and the miracles of priests, they tried to see if their capabilities were compatible, or at least uncover why they were not.” She stood, scooping up Mimir in her arms. “I believe I have a Grimoire that explains the ritual.”
“In your travel box?” Atreus asked. “Is that just the big box of everything?”
Her answer was completely flat and unironic. “Yes.” She opened the door, no doubt to go searching for the Grimoire.
Kraft remembered what she was speaking of.
He’d been there, at the dawn of humans discovering their miracles and magic. “No need,” he called. “I know what you’re thinking of.”
The elf looked at him, surprised, but just for a moment before she smiled. Kraft understood.
It was good when others remembered.
—
Minutes later, they were back inside, Kraft’s basket of half peeled potatoes in the corner. The labor would be ready to be taken up again once they were done.
The four of them were now seated in a circle. Mimir was now placed atop Frieren’s “Big Box of Everything”, watching with curious golden eyes.
Going clockwise to Kraft’s left: Frieren, then Atreus, and finally Fern.
“Join hands,” he requested, holding out his hands towards the center of the group.
As Fern, Frieren and Atreus grasped a firm hold of both him and each other, he closed his eyes. “Now, each of us must begin to manipulate our mana, as if we’re ready to cast a normal spell. We won't cast it though, merely let the mana flow through us. Spread out your senses, searching for the unfamiliar patterns you can sense within the other person.”
His awareness almost immediately expanded, his mind's eye finding the three of them easily, and taking note almost as quickly of the tight control Frieren and Fern had over their Mana. They were suppressing it, and suppressing it so well he hadn’t noticed any fluctuations at all until right this second. Such unbelievably refined control. Especially in Fern; the girl was a prodigy.
In comparison, Atreus’ mana was a wild flame, burning like a brushfire.
But his spell…
He felt more than heard or saw the moment Fern recognized something, her hands stiffening noticeably under his touch.
Atreus was indeed summoning his magic from ‘The Land’.
Or, that is to say, the world.
The air, the grass, the dirt, the trees. Each one giving a tiny little sliver, a barely there mote of dust of Mana for each individual blade of grass, insect, or animal.
But soon those motes of dust could give him the power to rival any mage.
No doubt, such a power had limits, from the skill of the caster, to the spell being cast. But it was no wonder Fern had such trouble grasping the concept.
She was used to one source.
She expected to only need to ever draw upon one well of power.
Atreus's magic instead called upon countless trillions of them. Each so little that those affected likely never noticed.
It was probably why each of Atreus’ demonstrated spells that Kraft had seen were based off of animals of some kind: Nature imposing its own order onto the chaos through the spoken incantation.
The lightning - which is what Kraft normally saw the creatures wreathed with - was likely Atreus’ own magical inclination showing. His ‘touch’, as it were.
“I see.” Frieren’s calm voice reached them, breaking through the fugue of meditation. “Fascinating.”
Then, Frieren began to imitate what she sensed. It was crude, unpracticed, but how could it not be? Fern very quickly followed after her Master’s example.
Kraft pulled his hands away, opening his eyes as he watched the two mages cast their very first spell in this new way.
Frieren’s formed first, Fern's just a second behind her Master’s.
Ephemeral eyes opened, meeting Frieren’s gaze.
“Hello,” the elf greeted with a smile.
(X)(X)(X)
Take your bets folks! What animals/element combo do you think Frieren and Fern got?Only hint I'll give is that the animal isn't one Atreus summons in either game and the element isn't lightning, since Atreus has that one covered.
Place your bets friends!