“There is no holding back. Youarethe Iss Drengr. Ensure they know your name before you cut them down.”
45
CALDER
October 28th, Year 21, 10th Era
The Abyss
Frigid air swirls around him like the warmest welcome he could have imagined in the underworld. His boots carry him to another dock that overlooks a frozen lake. He blinks as a blinding white scene greets him.
Have I returned to Skalor?
Confronting him is a dense forest of evergreens blanketed in thick, pearly white snow, lining either side of the untouched powder path. A gray mist lingers in the air, concealing everything except the way forward.
Unlike the forests of Skalor, silence reigns here. He glances upward to see only darkness, yet a pale light glimmers off the snow. To think of the sheer number of mortals who are damned to such a wasteland.
There is no fear left in the Iss Drengr.
If the love of his life is lost in the endless forest of the Abyss, then there is nothing left in this existence for him.
He rolls his broad shoulders as he steps further into the Abyss.A quiet determination burns through his veins to disembowel the god who took his girl.
As exposed as he feels, stripped of his powers, he doesn’t need them. Makt is just a man here, disconnected from his afterlife. A precise strike will bring him to his knees.
Whispers ahead quicken his pace.
He knows enough about this realm to tread carefully. Gods and souls aren’t the only creatures lurking in the forest.
Suddenly, the dark cloud lifts as he enters a clearing. The symmetry of the circularly placed trees is oddly perfect.
In the center is a black marble altar–a grotesque display with bloodied skulls embedded along the sides. It is as if someone manipulated the white slabs used as altars by the Gothi.
Lying across the stone is a familiar figure draped in a snow-white cloth adorned with peculiar twisting knots.
My Princess.
He is too focused on the ease of this search that he overlooks the black wolf the size of a boulder lying to the side. Fire flickers behind its intense gaze, watching Calder as if he is trespassing.
“You lose the bet, Rendel.”
A being as solid as the sentinel pines approaches him from beside the massive wolf that he suspects is an Ulv–a demon wolf of the Abyss that can be summoned through darkseidrto guard treasure.
Through the god’s wispy cloak, Calder can see that his skin is a hideous gray color with twisting knots carved into what little flesh is exposed. Antlers like gnarled tree roots protrude from his head, while inky hair flutters around his shoulders.
The god’s warped appearance only slightly matches his description in the ancient tomes. Yet, every lore Calder has ever read points to the antlered man as none other than Freyr.
But, a corrupted version of the God of Stability.
“He did come for his girl.” Freyr leans against the altar.
To his right is his son, Thrain Thordsson, Sigvid’s brother and Aura’s uncle. On the left is a stranger with raven hair and a cold, dead gaze.
Calder wasn't a betting man, but could recognize the late King Rendel Manchineel anywhere.
Having missed their presence, the Iss Drengr shifts uneasily as he evaluates the jarring scene of the three worst possible souls to be at the side of the love of his life.
Freyr’s sneer rivals either of his sons. “Welcome to the Abyss, Iss Drengr. The God of Death personally welcomes you to his realm.”
