16
Gullveig
Thanks to months of training, I don’t hate Freja quite as much.Unfortunately, the other vanir are just as bad as I was led to believe they were.They slaughter earth children without a single thought.They ensnare earth children who are capable of being bonded without a care for free will or anything else.We’re nothing more than tools for them.
In fact, Freyr said as much.
He persists in calling Gorm ‘heiðr,’ because he thinks it’s funny to call him ‘bright.’It’s how the vanir see us—earth children with more light around us.My brother doesn’t deserve another name, because we are only tools.
Freja’s different, though.
She’s kinder.She also listens to the things I say, evaluating my words for their benefit, their truth.She’s spent a significant amount of time preparing me to join her in war.The idea of going with her, of being there on the battlefield and helping her destroy my own people—it’s painful.
I know that’s what they need me to do, though.It’s the entire reason I was trained and sent among the vanir in the first place.Gorm hasn’t been training, but Freja told her twin that she was taking me to the next battle, and he said he’d do the same—our proximity will strengthen the twins.Having us far away leaves them vulnerable.
At least with Gorm going too, we’ll be together when it happens.
I always imagined it that way, dying with my brother at the same time, in the same place, serving the æsir’s cause to the end.It won’t be a guarantee that the æsir can kill Freyr and Freja, but it’s a good start.And if we can help, it’s worth it.Only once the vanir are finally destroyed will the earth children finally be free to truly live.
What are you thinking when you disappear into your mind like that?Freja cocks her head sideways, her eyes narrowing.I’ve never had an ensnared who did that—utterly blanked her mind.
“It’s called meditation,” I say.“It helps me to focus.It clears my head of all the things that don’t matter.”Really, though, it’s the only time I can think about what’s coming, my plans.It’s my one chance to prepare.Had I known she was already back, I’d have done it later.It’s much harder to keep her out when she’s actively trying to penetrate my thoughts.
You know, at first the brights were more plentiful.Freja circles the area where I was training with my short swords.She showed me patterns to follow—she told me it’s from the vanir’s study of the most successful earth children warrior patterns.My training might keep you alive longer, but I think the vanir’s careless bonding and death of so many brights has been bad for your population.
“The brights, as you call them, are the strongest of Jörð’s children, those who are still pure of heart.We used to be the guardians of the earth among her children.We’re rare, and you should take a little better care of us.”
Like the æsir, you mean.
I sheathe my swords in the scabbard on my back and cross my arms.“If you lose your bonded humans, you’ll die here on Earth.It’s not your home.”
Freja laughs, as she often does with me.It’s as much my home as yours.
“Not so,” I say.“Your father was a visitor here, whereas our motheristhe earth under our feet.You’ll never be welcome in the way we are.”
Do you wish you were a sky child?Freja, as always, has questions.Do you resent us for coming here and making you feel so small by comparison?
“I have never resented the world for the way it is.I simply make plans to change the things that are wrong in it.”
Freja shakes her head.You’re the strangest earth child I’ve ever met.You still haven’t told me how you kept the other vanir from bonding you.
“Nor do I plan to,” I say.“Some things aren’t meant to be shared with one’s master.”
She roars then, throwing her head back.It’s almost time.I brought you something to celebrate that you’re joining me tomorrow when we attack.She drags something from the edge of her cavern where she dropped it until it’s right in front of me.Then she bumps it with her nose, nudging it closer.
I lean over and reach for the long, leather-wrapped bundle.It’s heavy—heavier than I expected.“What is it?”
She merely smiles.
I unwrap it carefully, which turns out to be good, because inside are two of the sharpest swords I’ve ever touched.“I have short swords,” I say.“They’re easier for me to manage than these full-length ones would be.”
But these are better.She looks smug.I spelled them.They’ll slice right through æsir hide like an oar through water.
I suppress my grimace.“How wonderful.”
Many of our ensnared believe that fighting the æsir is antithetical to their entire purpose in life.After all, the æsir treat their earth children like beloved pets.But know this.She looms closer.A pet is still a slave.At least we’re honest about who you are to us.
I think about her words all night.I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep on my last night on earth.I think about how the æsir treat us—pets, she said.But she’s wrong.I watched my parents, and they loved their æsir fiercely.They did everything they were asked, and their bonded æsir cared for them, too.
