Chapter 16:
Kratos
“Oh, a bit nippy.” Mimir gasped as his head was slowly lowered into the pool, golden eyes staring up at the sky and then at Lernen’s face as the old man cradled him, gently easing him towards the half submerged golem body the old man had crafted.
Kratos stood nearby, half submerged up to his thighs in cold water watching warily. He would not rob Mimir of the possibility of being functional again; but he did not trust it. None did things so altruistically for nothing in exchange. The old man’s offer had come from thin air as far as Kratos could see, and he did not like it.
“Why utilize water?” The elf asked, sitting just at the edge of the pond,arms coiled around her knees, watching with an inquisitive eye.
Fern was beside her, and Atreus just a few steps into the pond itself, watching with rapt interest and hope.
Even the dwarves were watching, with Sindri even taking notes while Brok picked at his teeth.
“Much like clay, water makes the earth easier to mould, Ideally, Ser Mimir would be comfortable when utilizing this construct, so it would be best to mould it to his needs.
“That’s very kind of ye.” Mimir said, still staring up from where the old Man cradled him, half submerged in the lake.
The old man pulled free a small ‘doll’ a kneeling, headless thing, little bigger than his own hand , muttering something under his breath, the clay or stone golem began to move, out of its kneeling position to stand ramrod straight, allowing Lernen to place it in the water.
The pond began to froth and bubble, Kratos watched as the magic made the Golem grow, laying now at the basin of the pond flat.
Lernen hesitated. “I will need to submerge you.”
Mimir, smiled kindly. “I don’t need to hold my breath if that’s what you’re worried about. Lad.”
“I admit, there was some concern.” The mage nodded. “I will count to three.”
The old man counted and Kratos tensed, even knowing and hearing from Mimir’s own mouth that the head did not need to breathe; what his mind was telling him he was seeing was that Mimir was being drowned.
It was a struggle to Master himself, to hold still and be silent, he kept a careful eye through the clear waters of the pond at Mimir’s bright, unblinking eyes. Their glow rippling across the surface.
Lernen gently lowered the stump of Mimir’s neck until he’d lined it up with that of the Golem’s pale, scholar hands tracing the line where clay met flesh, and Kratos’ sharp eyes could just barely see the clay shifting under the old man’s careful touch. His long atrophied magical senses letting him feel the magic that flowed out of the old man, into the golem and bled into the waters of the pond until it was absolutely suffused with the mage’s magical essence.
The waters took on an almost luminous sheen of blue, but still Kratos could see Mimir’s bright eyes through the luminescence and that alone kept him still.
“His control is impressive.” He heard the elf observe from her place by the edge of the pond.
“Is this water safe to drink anymore?” Sindri also muttered under his breath.
And then, just like that, the glow began to fade.
The Golem did not move.
Kratos began to march forward, wading through the thigh deep pond. “Mimir!” He barked, all but ready to reach down and pull the head to the surface as soon as he was within arms reach.
But then, as soon as he got within arms reach and began to reach for the set of glowing eyes he could still see under the surface-
A hand.
A hand of stone and clay, its fingers wrapped around Kratos’ forearm, stopping him, water droplets dripping off of the crags and valleys in the moving stone.
Then, the body began to rise and Mimir sat up.
Water cascaded and then fell in drips and droplets from him rippling along the surface of the pond.
Mimir’s eyes were wide in his skull, staring at the hand that still grasped Kratos’ forearm like he didn’t quite recognize what he was seeing. “B-brother…” The head stuttered, tongue tied and flabbergasted.
Kratos held still, giving his friend the time and space needed to seemingly process the fact that -it worked.
After a moment longer, he shifted his arm, now grasping Mimir’s forearm.
Then, he pulled.
The stone and clay body was comparatively heavy, of course. But Mimir soon acted on the urge, stumbling with shaking legs as he found his feet and stood up.
He was tall slightly taller than Kratos himself now, and Mimir looked just as surprised at that fact as he was at the reality that he was standing up.
“Are you wel-” Kratos’ question was suddenly cut off Mimir’s whole body lurching forward, he thought his friend had stumbled, fallen and was half prepared to hold him up, before he realized- Mimmir hadn’t fallen.
His friend was hugging him.
Kratos didn’t speak, and hesitated to return the gesture, so unused to it as he was, but after a moment, he did indeed coil one arm around his brother’s form, returning the embrace with as much force as he felt was safe.
“Oh.” He heard Mimir sob, even as his new, stone body did not shudder and shake as a normal one would, the emotion was certainly overwhelming him.
“Mimir?”
“Little brother!” The head cried, overjoyed as he let Kratos go and took his first, tentative step towards the boy, who was beaming from ear to ear.
The head knelt, nearly fell over really, catching himself with his hands before leaning forward to pull Atreus into his own hug, one which Atreus eagerly returned. The both of them were crying.
“I’mpressive.” Frieren said, riding on the back of Shelly to stay dry as the turtle happily waded into the pond for her.
“Can you feel through the Golem’s skin at all?” Fern asked.
“Alright, so when can we detach you from the thing to get a look at the magic under the hood?” Brok asked.
As the group began to gather round, and crowd the now mobile Mimir, Kratos’ eyes turned towards Lernen.
The old mage was walking out of the pond, his robes dripping wet. He summoned a staff in his hand, passing it over himself, Kratos assumed, to dry his clothes.
Kratos followed after him.
Reaching the shore, Kratos, uncharacteristically, hesitated.
Finally when Lernen noticed his presence, turning to look over his shoulder Kratos spoke.
“Why did you do this?”
The old man stared at him for a long moment.
“You are unused to kindness in your life; aren’t you ser Kratos?”
That was an understatement, even so, he didn’t deign to answer.
“I did this… because I saw a situation that I could do my own small part in alleviating.” He said. “We must aim to leave the world better than we found it; when our time is done. We must be better.”
The last words struck at Kratos core, and he regarded the old man in a new light. The hunched, subdued posture, the tired, droopy gaze.
It spoke of a scholar, a melancholy elder at the end of his life and yet…
“Oh Lernen-” Mimir’s voice came up behind him, the now mobile head wading through the hip deep waters towards Lernen. “How can I repay ye fer this?”
“There is no need.” He replied. “I was happy to put my skills to use.” The old man placed one hand over his heart and bowed. “I apologize, but I do not have the skills to add proper sensation to the Golem’s flesh. You will never truly feel a sense of touch through it.”
“I’m hardly goin to complain about a wee thing like that.” Mimir answered.
“You should also know, that the magical reserves within the construct can keep it functioning for roughly twelve hours. Afterwards, it will need to be recharged by an active Mana source.” He turned to look at Frieren, Fern and Atreus. “Luckilly. You are traveling with three mages. I trust they would be willing to provide their Mana?”
“Of course.” It was Fern who assured, the young girl was also smiling, pleased for Mimir in her own subtle way.
“And while the body is quite durable, it is not indestructible. Should it be damaged, I’m afraid it will not heal on its own. So take care in your travels.”
“Of course, of course. But; it sounds as though you’re leaving.”
“I’m afraid I must.” The old mage said. “I have completed the task I set out to do when I joined you, and now I must report back to Mistress Serie in full. I’m certain we’ll meet again when your path inevitably takes you to Äußerst .”
And with that the old man promptly turned to the north west, and began to walk. With little preamble or even a backwards glance.
“Thank you very much sir! We appreciate it!” Stark called after him, Fern bowed respectfully.
“Come on stumpy-” Brok grumbled. “Lets see if we can find you some clothes that’ll fit your rocky ass. Cant have you walkin around nekkid everywhere.”
“Ya cant call me that no more ya blue cunt.”
“Yer still a fuckin stump, just got some bits and bobs attatched to it now.” Brok shot back.
“Oh, maybe the cloak of winter winds!” Sindri suggested.
“You brought that with ya?”
“I think so.”
“That name… is just a metaphor right?” The priest asked after the two dwarves.
“Nope. Took some wranglin but we caught those fuckers right at the top of Himminbjorg. Had to bribe em with sweets too.”
“You’re screwin with me-” Sein complained.
“Probably.”
There was a tug at his cloak and Kratos turned to see Fern. “Ummm… Mr. Kratos-”
He knew her question already. “Yes.” He grumbled. “He’s always like that.”
Fern nodded, her expression grave. “Understood.”
—
They did, in the end, find Mimir some clothes.
They all did.
The two dwarves did indeed provide a cloak of winter winds, cool to the touch, smooth as silk. It was the color of royal blue. Frieren provided the clasp of silver that would keep it pinned in place.
Fern provided a pale waist skirt to tie around him, while Stark provided a belt. Sein offered a piece of religious jewelry its form large enough to obscure the seam of where neck met clay, if only just.
Atreus gave Mimir a knife. Stark, a belt and sheathe to properly hold it.
The weapon was comically small in the golem body’s large hands, but it was the sentiment that counts.
Kratos did not have a gift to provide.
And so that night, he began fashioning a staff.
The wood in these parts was strong, sturdy. Even with his strength. It would make for a fine walking stick or defensive tool. Perfect for Mimir.
A large head to act as a bludgeon, he would ask Brok or Cindry for an iron counterweight.
It would be done by the time they were ready to move in the morning.
By the time they were done with all the excitement, the day had been whittled away, and so they stayed by the pond. Tomorrow they would travel towards the next village.
As the sun began to set, casting fiery orange and blooming purples across the sky; Mimir volunteered to cook. He was eager to do so. And Fern was eager to help.
And so they cooked together. Mimir looked close to tears as he worked with his hands, and if Kratos understood snippets of the conversation, Fern was the one who took the first opportunity to feed her Mana into the construct.
“So Mimir.” Sein said sitting next to Brok and Sindri. “New Body. Whole new you. What do you wanna do tomorrow?”
“Explore!” The head said immediately. Standing straight, half peeled potato in one hand, Atreus’ gifted knife in the other. “Oh, I want to see as much as I can! Walk everywhere, do everything!”
“I think there’s an unexplored dungeon nearby.” Frieren said, leaning back against the ghostly construct of Shelly, who was nibbling on one of her pig tails.
“Why visit a prison?” Sindri asked.
“Not that kind.” Frieren smiled. “Dungeons are typically old ruins, civilizations long past. Sometimes they leave treasures, or pieces of history. Often times monsters wander into these places so they can be dangerous. But if you want to explore, by definition. That’s where you’ll find a sight few have ever seen.”
“Then yes.” Mimir laughed. “Lets do that! And who knows, if we find some treasure chests, maybe I can try Brother’s patented opening technique.” He chuckled, much to Frieren, Fern, Sein and Stark’s obvious confusion.
They looked to Kratos to explain, but he simply snorted, continuing his work as he carved and whittled away at what would soon be Mimir’s staff.
The fire crackled, Brok brought out ale, and though the stew was more potatoes than meat, it was well seasoned and was filling. The moon shone bright in the sky and no troubles disturbed them
It was a good night.
(X)(X)(X)
This chapter wasn't supposed to take "this long" we were actually supposed to reach the village where the flower monster that puts people to sleep is in, but one thing led to another and I couldn't not make Mimir's "new body" a big deal, and give this nice little bit where everyone chips in to "welcome" him. And so this was born :D