It knew no bounds.
From that moment to the last drop of blood spilled before the surrender, Midgard showed no mercy. And in their victory, they took every last shred of magic from the lands and her people.
The gods could not have retaliated even if they had wanted to.
Familiar frustration fluttered through Solveig’s mind as she lowered herself to a seated position, her back resting against the stone wall of the cave. For one hundred and fifty years the memories and confusion haunted her waking moments and visited her in her dreams.
The mortals couldn’t have accumulated enough power on their own to conquer one race, let alone the Trifold alliance of the three most powerful races since Ragnarök. The weakest of all life forms had somehow been able to conquer the Dwarven first, then the Giants and Fire Demons, before waging war against the Trifold.
And to think, the mortals hadn’t even been aware that their planet was just one among nine on the tree of Yggdrasil, assuming they were the only living creatures in the universe. Small-minded fools.
Before Ragnarök, when the realms were whole planets, mingling between the races was rare. Seldom did anyone but the gods visit other realms outside their own. Without magic, Solveig understood the limited minds of Midgard could not hold ideas of a vast universe.
After the fall of the gods, Midgard found itself surrounded on all sides by other realms and races. On their right, Svartflheim and Jotunheim with Muspelheim an island unto its own. On their left was a continent comprised of Asgard, Alfheim, and Vanaheim. Niflheim landed to the left of the Trifold, sparing Midgard the mists.
A loud crack outside the cave jolted Solveig out of her thoughts. She waited with bated breath, the pounding in her ears drowning everything else out. The male didn’t respond, he sat exactly as he had for gods knewhow long.
When it was clear she wasn’t in imminent danger, Solveig slipped back into her thoughts of Yggdrasil’s history, trying to find the missing piece of the puzzle, the missing piece of history that led her to this very cave.
Asgard had been a desolate desert after the destruction of the gods, and since both Alfheim and Vanaheim believed Asgard to be the Realm of the Gods, the Elven and Vanir wished to claim the territory as their own.
Solveig wondered what the world would have been like had the continent been a combination of the other races.
Alfheim and Vanaheim warred for centuries before the rise of the Fae. Even as the two races fought, some desired peace. Seeing the goodness in each other, they learned to coexist. The first Fae was born of a Vanir mother and an Elven father, and a new race emerged to inhabit the Idavoll forest—large, dense woods that bordered all three realms.
Fae had the distinguishing features of the Elven, with pointed ears, superior strength and speed, and a connection to nature, which mingled with their Vanir parentage to create a gift of elemental magic—air, fire, water, or earth.
Elemental magic was powerful, but it was simpler than her Source magic. It had a set boundary of what it was capable of. Her Source magic could create spells and power beyond that of controlling one element. Vanir of old were second only to the gods in their power, and though centuries had watered down the magic, it could still be used in endless ways, depending on how powerful the Vanir.
But the Fae were born of two magical races, and both Elven and Vanir agreed that the Fae were most fit to rule because of it. The Fae Treaty was signed between Alfheim and Vanaheim, and the Trifold Alliance was created.
A faction of Fae still resided in the Idavoll forest, but the ruling class of Fae took over the remnants of Asgard, working the land and rebuilding palaces and cities until it became the thriving realm it was before the war.
Though not as common as a Vanir and Elven pairing, occasionally a Fae was born of other mixed parentage, and they travelled to Asgard to live in harmony with others of their race. There had been peace between all the realms for far longer than anyone expected.
The new world thrived under the rule of the Fae and the council. Thousands of years passed with only minor contention between realms. Or so the continent of the Trifold thought.
Solveig shuddered when she remembered the shift. One hundred and seventy-six years ago, the world changed. Mists of Niflheim spreadover the lands, swallowing their border with Idavoll first and then Vanaheim.
Confusion and secrets swept through the Trifold a decade before the invasion of mortals began the War of Realms, and a cloak of shadow, dark magic, shrouded the world.
Themaleatthefront of the cave stiffened, bringing Solveig’s attention back to the present.
He sprang to his feet and stalked away. Solveig couldn’t hear much after his footsteps stopped until she recognized the distinct sound of a fist connecting with a person, likely a face. A curse ripped through the air before muffled voices whispered.
Solveig strained to hear, but it was pointless. After a short while, she heard two sets of footsteps approaching. Her body clenched and she forced herself to her feet, preparing to fight whoever came through the opening.
The male reappeared and a second figure paused just outside the cave, cast in shadow.
“Who are you?” the one in front asked in a deep, husky voice barely above a whisper, as though he was trying to disguise his true sound. Solveig said nothing.
“Who are you?” he repeated more forcefully. Solveig remained quiet, relief overpowering the painful throb under her skin. They didn’t know who she was.
Did they know who Latham was? Had they captured him as well? That was unlikely given they usually only took one of her people. He’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time because he wasn’t supposed to be there, and she interfered. Either way, she gave up her mission, left her post, to save him. Fool.
At her silence, the male tilted his head. Meant to be an intimidating gesture, perhaps, but Solveig had decades of experience dealing with personalities like this and set her face into the mask she wore when dealing with assholes who made her life a living Hel.
Her skin crawled with energy. Energy she felt but could not use. It was begging to be used.
