“You and Calder, huh?” Helga nudges her arm. “Does Sig know?”
Aura shakes her head and relays some of their first meeting and their current quest. Helga raptly listens, nodding slowly.
“Out of everything from becoming a vísir, there is one person I miss more deeply than a horn of mead.” Helga holds a faint emotion concealed in her gaze. Otherwise, her shoulders remain tall, courage permeating her being.
“Sigvid Thordsson is a lot of things.” Helga continues. “He is gruff, angry, and the most focused individual I have ever met. But,” she holds up a hand, “he will dismantle the heavens if you are someone he loves.”
Aura grips the axe's shaft. Accepting his traits in her heart leavesonly a lingering ache, as the only words she can connect with her father come from the carriage.
“You are not his child.”
“Yes, which means he will go harder for you. Aura, your fire is unique and burns with the strength of both your parents, who I never thought I would see again. Seeing you is a rare gift.”
Aura perks at her sentiment. Surely, as a vísir, Helga rests her head in an afterlife–likely the Depths, where she will one day greet Father again.
“You, like them, are your own person. You have so much yet to accomplish. Do not weigh down those shoulders with Sig’s words spoken in anger.”
“But I still feel his disapproval-”
“I will never diminish that feeling, for I know it too well. Just know I loved your father as the brother the gods denied me. And the man I know would love his child regardless of her flaws.” Helga tilts Aura’s chin with her fingers. “Wear your strength as armor. For your journey is still fraught with terrors.”
“Do not remind me, Helga.” Aura chuckles lightly.
“Lastly, I do wish to mention Calder. I read your runes and am concerned that he has kept something from you.”
Aura’s heart pounds in her chest, and she can guess what Helga is about to say, wishing beyond measure that she would stay silent.
“He and I trained together and pledged to Sigvid side by side. Yet, my loyalty, even in Death, is to my Lord Commander. And that man would want his daughter to know everything.”
Helga inhales, and suddenly, a bright light explodes around her. She curses at the timing.
“Calder Avardsson lives, Aura! And I am now summoned back to the Depths to await the call of the Norn.” Her wings flap, and she lifts from the dock, her Drengr medal clanking against her chest piece. “Trust yourself. And tell your mother my anger for her was only jealousy for what I could never have with Thrain.”
The light embraces Helga until she vanishes, leaving a single black feather beside Aura’s hand.
October 9, Year 21, 10th Era
Fitz’s Home, Skalor
Aura lies in the barn, listening to her companions’ sleep. She curls against Makt’s axe, yet slumber evades the Princess. Her mind spins with Helga’s words, especially her attempted final warning of Calder.
Once the sun's rays tickle her cheek, she slips down to the lake and bathes, securing Helga’s vísir feather in a braid at her temple. After a stop in town for fresh-baked bread and crispy bacon, she returns to the barn to find her cousin and great-uncle stirring.
Setting breakfast on a workbench, she clears her throat, drawing narrowed expressions. “Calder is alive, and Helga has returned to the Depths. I was a tad senseless last night. I apologize.”
Argnier nods. “We all say things in distress.”
Edmund huffs but acquiesces with a curt shake of his head.
Relief floods her veins at the acceptance of her apology. She could not continue on this venture if they thought less of her.
When she arrives at Fitz’s shack, he steps out onto the porch with a thimble of tea.
“He lives, halvgud. I suppose you wish to speak with the patient?”
Aura ignores the comment on her lineage and steps around the mink into the one-room shack.
Calder lies on a giant table, his legs covered in a myriad of furs. His clothes appear to have been removed, likely by Argnier, who remained to help.
