Chapter 12:
Atreus:
Life on the road was… strange.
Atreus was used to traveling, camping away from home. But it was different. They was always a… a center. A place to return to. Home. The lake of Nine, even, for a time, Freja’s hideaway with Charlie.
Always a North Star, a beacon to guide them back.
That didn’t exist here.
Their ‘North Star’ was the next town on the map. Their beacon the east and west where the sun rose and fell.
It was equal parts scary and exhilarating all at once if he were honest. Maybe one day he’d travel like this back home.
Their next destination was a place called ‘The Village of the Sword.’ Odd name for a village but if he understood the story it held the sword of some legendary warrior, or… it held the sword of someone who would be a great warrior? He was no stranger to prophecy, and this didn’t sound any stranger than the Giant’s prophecies that he was used to.
The blizzard that had trapped them for nearly ten days in that small cabin with Kraft was gone, but the air was still cold, nothing like fimbulwinter, but he could tell that Frieren was shivering beneath her heavy layers. So was Stark.
They passed the time on the road with Mimmir’s favorite passtime.
Trading stories.
In truth. Atreus was learning to enjoy it too.
“So the Demon beasts had a King you say?”
“Yes.” Fern nodded. “Eighty years or so ago, Master Himmel’s party slew the Demon King, leading to the current age of relative peace for us.”
“Eighty- Atreus Do I got the number right -áttatíu ár- is what the lass said aye?”
Atreus nodded at the head, still dangling from his fathers belt. “Yeah. Eighty is right.”
“That’s a long time for humans.” Mimir muttered. “But that begs the question; why have no one replaced the King? An heir? A rival?” He paused, eyes dancing in their sockets as he mulled over his thoughts. “Or is eighty years not very long for Demon?”
Fern turned to her shivering mistress in askance. “Mistress Frieren?” It seemed like she didn’t know.
Frieren sighed, a puff of air steaming before her lips. “Eighty years isn’t very long at all for demons. Many live several centuries. But more than that, Demons are individualistic. The only thing they respect is power. The Demon King wasn’t just a powerful demon, he was indisputably the most powerful demon. He stood far and above all the rest. Everyone from Qual, Shlacht, Aura, Every last one. None could best him in magic or martial might.”
“Ohh.” Mimr hummed. “So then, only if another is ever more powerful than all others will they become Demon King?”
“A process that will take centuries at the very least, if it ever does.” Frieren concluded with a shrug. “There are still a handful of extremely powerful Demons that survived the King’s defeat, each of them are rivals to the others without his unifying will keeping them in line, and each will grow more powerful as time passes; furthermore, none wish to kill the others, which might be necessary if they were to truly establish dominance inso far as it can be called a ‘custom’ of their ascension process.
“Why?” Stark asked. “I thought you said demons were individualistic in the extreme?”
“Concentration of force.” Frieren answered easily. “The Greatest of Demons did not achieve their titles or power by simply being born into it. They’re intelligent enough to recognize that humans outnumber demon Kind by the millions. And breed faster than Demons themselves do. The Less Greater Demons exist in the world the faster human populations will grow, the more each individual Greater Demon stands out in its destructive capacity. Meaning the more Humans can be concentrated to hunt each individual down, the fewer of them there are.”
“So it ultimately still comes down to self preservation?” Fern asked.
“With Demons; Always; Even so, why are you so curious about them? You’ve asked more about demons than almost anything else today.”
“Atreus.” Mimir confessed bringing all eyes to him, making the boy blush somewhat sheepishly.
“They don't feel right.” He said by way of explanation. Like…” He fished for the word and couldn’t quite find it. “Something’s missing.
“I think-” Mimir cut in again. “That it has to do with- your word, Soul. There are four parts to being’s soul: Hugr, Fylgja, Hamingia, Hamr. Which in your words are Mind, Spirit, Shape and Luck. If piece missing, then all are incomplete. Why they take human shape but can never truly be like human.”
“Why assume they have a soul at all?” Frieren contested. “The existence of a Soul has never been proven.
“Oh?” Mimir smiled a bit. “Perhaps not in this land.”
The Elve’s ears twitched and Fern lost a step mid stride. “Are you saying you can prove souls exist.
“Jotuun, Giant Magic.” Mimir said. “All, bound by the Soul.”
“... Does Mr. Kratos have Giant magic?” Stark ventured hesitantly, making Atreus snort and Mimir chortle.
“No lad. Brother is no Giant. Perhaps one day we can show ye Jotuun Magic.”
A question prickled at the back of Atreus’ mind; at the very least to get them off the subject of giants. “How many Greater Demons are out there?”
Frieren shrugged. “While there might have been some newer spawn since his defeat, of his old Generals and greatest enforcers, there are roughly five that I know of that remain.”
“Who are they?” Atreus pressed.
“He noticed a slight twitch in the elf’s ears, and when she looked at him she was smiling softly, teasingly. “Isn’t it time for our question?”
Atreus felt heat creep along his neck and cheeks. “O-oh, right sorry.”
“Hm.” The elf smiled. “I’ve noticed that while you do have many stories about your Gods Mimir, you’ve hardly spoken any about the one you call Odin or Thor Why is that?”
Atreus tried to hide a wince.
She’d noticed.
Mimir had indeed been sharing stories about the Gods when asked, regaling late nights with funny anecdotes or epic adventures.
But most, if not all of his stories had steered very very clear of the grim tellings of Odin and Thor. Instead focusing on some of the less famous, less gruesome Gods. Fulla, Höðr, Hermóðr, Lódur and such. Atreus had heard most of them before. Most were even funny, even with all he knew about the Aesir.
“Is there a reason for that?”
Atreus tossed Mimir a look, wondering how the head would figuratively talk his way out of this one.
“Well its simple really- Many of the stories about Odin and Thor need… what’s you’re word… context. History and Culture knowing to make a bit of sense. After all, ya dont know what something like Ragnarok is. And without knowing about Ragnarok, ya dont know why Valhalla is needed. Without knowing about our Dwarves, ya wont understand the importance of Mjolnir; Thor’s hammer. Missing pieces. Stories wont make sense.
The head absolutely was playing things up to a degree an knowing everything he knew about Thor and Odin, Atreus didn’t disagree. He still remembered the Horror on Fern and Stark’s faces when they’d heard about Mimir’s ‘curse’ and that was just the tip of the proverbial iceberg when it came to the All Father and his Thunder God son.
But more than that; Atreus got the feeling that if Mimir ever told these stories, their friends would notice, rather quickly that the anecdotes were far more ‘personal’ than normal.
Which would perhaps lead to some very serious questions for them in turn.
The thought of his and Father’s nature as ‘Gods’ being revealed to them made an odd, sort of thrill carve its way through him. Both nervous anticipation and sheer dread warring its way through him until it was a tangled, stringy ball of conflict sitting heavy in his gut
Frieren cast her gaze up towards grey-cast skies. “We’re not far from the village.
“We might have been there already if you would walk rather than ride a turtle.” Fern grumbled.
Frieren sitting rather smugly atop Shelly, with a trail of grass and flowers plowed through the snow behind her smiled, far too pleased with herself even as Fern glared.
On the plus side, walking through a lush green pathway was easier than trudging through snow, so the trail made the hike a little easier for everyone behind her.
“Still, Mimir, if you were to begin somewhere in telling those stories, where would it be?
“Well, suppose we must start from very beginning. The Primordial Giant Ymir.”
—
Kratos did not understand what was happening.
Or at the very least, his shaky grasp of the language perhaps made him look upon the current scene with more than a little incredulity.
‘You’re the village chief.’
“That’s right. I come from a long line of chief’s, I’m the fourty-ninth.”
Why was an uppity child, who apparently wished to be much taller than she was staring straight up at the diminutive elf?
And why did he get the impression she was giving orders?
—
“I do not understand.” Kratos complained privately to Mimir.
“What’s not to understand brother? The village has asked for aid in wiping out Monsters? We’re good at slaying Monsters. So we help; food, lodging as our rewards, and even then, the Lady Frieren was bound by oath.”
“That is not what I do not understand.” Kratos corrected as Stark, Fern and yes, Atreus as well, fought a pack of wolf like beasts, allowing his son to fight without him caused a mixed feeling of both pride and concern to simmer in his chest, even with his and Frieren’s watchful eyes nearby.
“Oh?”
“I do not understand how I was volunteered into carrying this one on my shoulders.”
“GET HIM! TEAR HIS HEAD OFF” The small ‘village chief’ shrieked directly above him; throwing her fist out in what must’ve been exhilaration as she watched the fight.
“She wanted to see better… and you’re the tallest one here.” Mimir explained.
—
Kratos would say that he preferred these beasts to those of his home in Midgard. Or even Greece.
When they died, they dissolved into blackened flakes. Mana particles, Mimir explained.
It meant he wasn’t covered in Blood when he killed them.
Turning around after his latest execution, he found, all three of their new companions staring at him with rather wide eyes. Atreus was face palming, and Mimir, from where he was being held by the village chief child was staring at him.
“What?” He demanded.
“Well brother I think they’re just surprised. They’ve never seen a man tear the front off of a monster by pulling down on its lower jaw.”
A beat of silence.
“THAT WAS AWESOME!” The chief child gushed, holding Mimir above her head like the violence was her own personal triumph.
At least someone here understood problem solving.
—
“I must say, its quite tenacious isn’t it?”
“Hn.” Kratos agreed with the head.
“I mean, bloody hell- I coulda sworn the blasted thing got chewed in half before, but it just kept attackin not givin a flyin hoot.”
A whimpering Wolf Monster beast yelped, loudly as it ran away, tail between its legs. The ethereal ‘Honey Badger’ beast snarling as it chased after it.
“Somehow that’s not that surprising.” Stark mumbled quietly beside the two of them.
“Where can I get one of those!?” The chief child asked.
Meanwhile, now “floating” on a flying turtle beast, Frieren blasted away with her magic from above.
Kratos knew she could fly on her own. Atreus told him the beast couldn’t. So she was flying both of them.
Why? He might never know.
He shook his head at the ridiculousness of it all.
—
Finally, after two days of what was ostensibly ‘pest control’ the mountains were deemed safe once again.
The beasts, from what he understood, had been attracted and always would be attracted to this place by the magic within a blade, housed within the mountain itself. The blade of a prophesied warrior.
Kratos did not have the magical ‘senses’ his son had, not anymore, nor did he wish to, but the relic must have been a powerful one indeed. There had been some discussion about it amongst the group, some confusion as to why the blade had not already been claimed by those who defeated the demon King eighty odd years ago-
From what he understood, that group couldn’t claim the blade, they had not been the warriors of prophecy.
And yet they slew the Demon King regardless.
That was good of them.
Prophecy binds you- only if you let it.
But even so, the blade was still a powerful relic to be protected, the humans of this place were bound to defend it, and Frieren in turn, was bound to protect them; to return every few decades to once more clear the mountain passes.
Is that what it meant? Kratos wondered privately.
To be an immortal with purpose?
To be bound to the cycles of mortal lives? To orbit around the finite existence of those one would outlast?
He did not know.
For so long he’d fled from his past, from his sins, isolated himself away from a world he could destroy once again that he genuinely could not fathom the answer for himself; and he did not wish to use the examples of those he’d met before as guides.
The Gods were cruel, and even simple acts of protecting their worshipers were never done without greed and self interest poisoning the deed.
He was curious as to her thoughts, her insights, but he did not. For such questions would reveal his nature. A nature he suspected that, for all her ridiculousness was already barely concealed to the elf through language differences and immortal patience; if not indifference.
Mimir had confirmed. She was older than him. She had never been mortal, not like he once believed himself to be, not like Atreus believed himself to be, years ago. Her concept of time was warped compared to even his own.
To her, a decade felt like nothing. Even a century was a passing afternoon.
Would he gain that perspective as more years passed, as eons rolled by while he remained
Would Atreus?
Would he want to gain it? Or had such indifference caused the same callousness and disregard for mortal life the other Gods held? That let them manipulate so easilly and cruelly? Knowing that within an immortal’s eyeblink their cruelties would be devoured by the relentless march of time?
He didn’t know.
Fern and Stark; Kratos knew Atreus would already call them friend.
And yet he would outlive them. Frieren would outlive them.
Would they be remembered?
After a hundred years?
Five hundred years?
A thousand?
Kratos remembered his own wife and daughter from Greece. He remembered his old Spartan instructor, his brother.
He remembered their names. Their personalities. What had been said and unsaid between them.
But their faces…
Only Caliope’s face remained intact in his mind, and only Lysandra’s horror as he cut her down was burned into his eyelids when he closed them.
But everyone else?
Even Deimos as he was.
A blur. A shadow in passing.
But perhaps that was merely his own failing. His own inability…
He’d run from those memories for so long…
Atreus had no reason to share in his cowardice, and Kratos hoped he never would.
Perhaps he would remember them perfectly.
And perhaps such a fate was not cruel beyond measure.
And in the privacy of his own mind, while these thoughts did concern him, he could admit; that the perspective of even this peripheral insight into the potential dangers of his or Atreus’ future… they might perhaps prove invaluable.
Even so, it was disquieting.
And then, the day came; their task was done, and the village chief child rewarded them, gold, supplies, a magic tome, bracelets of friendship given to each of them. Even to Kratos.
He did not recognize the script written into his.
When he learned to read, he would know.
Mimir’s bracelet was instead a horn charm, dangling from his left horn.
The head looked quite pleased with his gift.
And then- as the snows finally broke and the warmth of spring began to melt away the winter cold they headed towards the next town on their journey in quiet, peaceful companionship.
“There ya are ya fuckin idjits.”
“Oh! We were so worried!”
“BROCK! SINDRI!” Atreus yelled, delighted as the two Hulda brothers appeared from literal thin air, startling Stark, Fern and even Frieren herself.
“You were worried; I knew they were just fine.”
“Oh right like you weren’t scrambling to get here.”
“New trade opportunities that’s all.”
Formally, quiet and Peaceful companionship… Kratos mentally amended.
(X)(X)(X)
You cannot convince me that the village chief of the sword wouldn't be a little blood knight just waiting to grow up :p
And yes, Brock and Sindri are here, ready to make this peaceful journey a bit more chaotic :D(How they got here and thus how Kratos and co got here will be explained a bit next chapter)Also, Also, some cover art for this fic has been comissioned; expect to see that very soon :)