Asgard Awakening 2, ch 19

“So how is this thing going to work?” asked Trav.  He was sitting in a private room with his valkyries, Hravallin, and Captain Bravoosa.  When he’d first been told about the invite list for this remote viewing, he’d been a little surprised that Hravallin would be attending without any guards or servants.  Then he’d looked at it from a different perspective.

The only reason Yaakova’s sister was likely still alive right now was because of Trav and his group, and she would also be relying on Trav and Bravoosa for the Royal trial.  They’d just gathered to find out what the trial actually was.

Hravalin pointed at the front of the room.  “The stage there will show an image of the three elders.  The magic will let us hear their voices too.”

“So it’s like a hologram.”

“A ho--what?”

“Never mind.  So the elders are going to meet with each tribe separately?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then how do you know they are telling you the same thing as the other tribes?”

Hravallin began to retort, narrowed her eyes, and stopped before she could say anything.  A thoughtful frown crossed her face.  “I’d never thought about it.”

Yaakova put a clawed hand on Trav’s shoulder and gave it a warning squeeze.  Then the harpy said, “Sister, after this announcement, do you think the assassination attempts will end.”

“I hope so.”

“On the subject, have your spies located Greeda yet?”

“I don’t like the connection you are suggesting, but no.”  Hravalin frowned.  “She left the Tree Palace a week ago and has not been back.  It is not like her to keep a low profile, so it is likely she is plotting something.  I am reasonably certain she is not at the Tree Palace or anywhere in East Tribe territory.”

Yaakova asked, “So where is she?The North tribe?”  

Behind Hravalin, Captain Bravoosa looked very uncomfortable.  Before meeting Trav, she’d barely even met her leaders, much less sat in a small room with her tribe’s Guide and listened to dangerous political discussions.

“We don’t know and we don’t have the resources to find out.”Hravalin growled and slapped her arm in frustration.  “That horrible woman!  I still can’t figure out how she became the Royal in the first place.  Nothing adds up.  Now her entire family is ignoring or actively impeding us, and even our useless father won’t tell us if he knows anything!   Damn that worthless, scheming human!”  She turned to Trav and said, “No offense, Lord Trav.”

Trav wasn’t sure how to respond.  It was becoming increasingly obvious that Trav being human was like a footnote of information to the harpies now.  They seemed not to see him as human, not really--not since he announced who he really was.  This was likely why the East tribe had already more or less accepted him and didn’t treat him like a slave, or even a prior slave.  It was all very strange.

Namaste said, “Isn’t Greeda your sister?”

Hravalin snarled, “Yes.  And she’s East tribe, so she has known exactly how to hurt us most!  I wish I could tear her throat out!”  Hravalin flexed her claws like she was grabbing her half sister by the neck.

“At best, she is hurting our tribe.  But she could be working with enemies too.”  Yaakova nodded.  “It would be best if Greeda would die.”

Trav privately thought, I’m sure the fact that Greeda was one reason Yaakova left the harpy settlement in the first place factors into that too.

Everyone was lost in their own thoughts for a minute.  Ysintrill asked, “When is this going to start?”

“Whenever it starts,” said Yaakova.  “The elders do everything in their own time.”

“So does Trav,” said Tiffany.  “Speaking of which, I confirmed this morning that I know what to do with Jang-mi.”

“Oh really?”  She had Trav’s full attention now.   He’d started working to fix whatever was wrong with the Jang-mi a few days ago, but he hadn’t had much luck yet.  When he’d examined her, first asking her to strip and then clinically following the lines of power before they touched her, and as they moved through her, he’d been fascinated all over again. Then he’d asked her to meditate, to cultivate, to do various things that would theoretically move or build her power.  

Trav hadn’t been able to find anything new in Odin’s memories about people with Jang-mi’s power.  Since he’d been so pressed for time, what he’d been able to do for her had been limited.  He’d given her an enchanted staff that was strong as steel and could impart a powerful electric shock, and a rune equation carved into her shoulder that would allow her to see flows of magic.  His hope had been that she would be able to tell him how to fix her later.

Tiffany grinned.  “I was able to figure something out.  In fact, I sort of healed her.  Jang-mi isn’t up to her full power, but she can stand toe to toe with most Kin now.”

“What did you do?  How?”  Trav leaned forward in his seat.

“I used the stars last night!  The idea actually came to me a couple days ago, I think it was something from my mantle, like instinct.  I traced lines on Jang-mi’s body, manipulated the starlight hitting her, and eventually something changed.  Now she can hold power, or energy in her dantian again, but she can only...fill it now at night.  It’s a workaround, but it’s effective.  The only downside is she’s obviously more powerful at night now.”

Trav thought about that.  “I guess that makes sense, with your mantle being tied to the night and all.”

“Exactly.  Not all of her abilities work the same as they used to, but she’s still figuring it out.  Everything you’ve given her will help too.  Sebastian said he will train her to help him with his duties as my priest!”

“So all of this is why I didn’t see her anywhere this morning?”

“Yes.  She is meditating or something right now.   When she told me she had to undo years of damage and be ready in case anything happened, it made sense.  Leonard is covering until then.  I gave her another day because Leonard is so busy, and he really needs a break.”

Trav nodded, and glanced at Bravoosa.  No doubt due to his line of reasoning, he saw text run over his vision, the same information he’d seen two days before:

<Bravoosa Gaglasdatter>

<Priestess of Travis Odin British Sterling>

<Background in horticulture, horsemanship, combat, and command>

<Apprentice level necromancer>

<Military leader>

The Oracle was still in his head, still doing Oracle things, and still barely talking to him.  Finding out that Trav had a priestess now had been...strange to say the least.  He’d actually never ended up sleeping with Bravoosa, just having dinner with her.  Trav hadn’t thought the conversation was all that amazing, in fact he’d mostly talked about the odd jobs he’d worked on earth.  But Bravoosa was very obviously smitten now.

After seeing the information in writing about his very first priestess, Trav still wasn’t sure what surprised him most--the horticulture or necromancy.  When he got some time, he needed to ask her about it.

The harpy must have sensed his attention because she caught his eyes and smiled, her inhuman eyes sparkling.   Trav looked away, pretending he’d just been scanning the room.  He was beginning to wonder if the harpy captain was going to try actually molesting him at some point.

At that moment, something began happening on the stage.  Motes of purple light danced up from the floor and fell from the ceiling, growing in number until there was a solid sheet of magic.  Over the course of about ten seconds, the wall of power formed three different images of ancient, hooded harpies holding ornate staffs.  They glowed and magic filled their shapes, like clouds of glowing smoke.   

Trav was impressed.  The amount of energy to do something like this was not small, and the working was complex too.  Maybe this was another remnant of an older civilization that the harpies had adopted--he wasn’t sure.  It would be a lot easier to do something like this with an artifact or a tool.

The middle crone spoke, and her voice filled the room.  “Hear us, Guide.”

“Hear us, warriors!” said the one on the right.

Then the crone on the left hissed, “Hear us, Allfather!”  The ancient harpy looked right at Trav.

All three of them spoke in unison, producing an eerie harmony.  “The trial to earn the Royal Tree shall begin in three days!  You will journey to a place you will be informed of the morning of the day the trial begins!  You will prove your worth by bringing back treasures to Bernacia!

“The location for your trial, and the rules shall be revealed to you then.  Know this:  the stage for your trial shall be perilous, and the dead land will seek to keep you!”

Suddenly, the room flashed, and Trav found himself standing before the three old harpies in what looked like a swamp in the middle of the night.  He was alone, and the full moon overhead illuminated roiling clouds.  “We greet you, Allfather,” said the ancient harpies.

“Hi.  So why did you drag me into this time compression illusion?”

“You recognize the working, but this is not surprising.  We have consulted the auguries, and we believe you are the Wanderer,” said one of them, the harpy that had been on the right earlier.

“I kind of figured since I haven’t been chased out of town.  What are you really here to tell me?”

The Elder on the right made a complicated face and said,  “It is actually good that you are a shadow of your former self right now.  The only reason we are agreeing to your involvement in the struggle for the Royal Tree is because you are so new, and because you have chosen one of us for your household.  Our role is to be impartial, but we are bending the rules because the futures are so uncertain.”

“And because most of the ruling class refuse to believe that a human could be as strong as their warriors,” added the leftmost harpy.

“Or themselves,” muttered the middle harpy.

“The other tribes are not happy about this,” sighed the other two.

Trav could guess, but he asked, “What do you mean?”

“The other tribes are now ignoring the fact you are a human and calling you and your group mercenaries.  We have dismissed these arguments based on the fact mercenaries are actually not against the rules.  However, this has unfortunately reminded a few families that they can use mercenaries too.”

“So that’s another reason to lock in participants, right?” asked Trav.

The leftmost Elder said, “Yes.  We cannot tell you what the team the other two guides have formed look like, but this year is going to be different for everyone.”

Trav got the message.  The Elders were indirectly warning him that Hravalin’s competitors had hired mercenaries.  He was glad for the information--information was power--but he wanted to understand the Elders’ motivation.  “Why are you telling me this?”

The center crone said, “Asgard is not ready for the High Masters to return, but the rain comes whether the earth wants iy or not.  Trying times are ahead.  Many forces are conspiring against you.  Know this--we are not your allies, but we are not your enemies, either.”

Trav gave them all a level look and slowly nodded.  “Got it.”

The swamp disappeared and Trav was suddenly back in the private room.    

On the stage, magic swirled and the ancient harpies disappeared.

“That’s it?” asked Tiffany.  “Really?  They showed up just to tell everyone where to be in three days?”

Yaakova shrugged and said, “It’s tradition.”

“Wow, in all this time, harpies haven’t changed at all,” muttered Ysintrill.

“What’s that supposed to mean, spirit?” growled Hravalin.

Trav ignored the Kin as they dealt with stress and excitement of the news in their own way.  He thought about what the ancient harpies had said, and realized how wise they really were.  They weren’t actually supporting him, but they’d made a decision that might play out best for their people.  Now Trav had a much better idea of why he hadn’t been mobbed by admirers or deniers since he’d announced who he was.

The Elders had likely been pulling strings the entire time.  Good, he thought. It was about damn time something had gone his way.   Even though the crones weren't supporting him, at least they weren't trying to get in the way.  If it was one thing he trusted from people--Kin or Human--it was opportunism.

It seemed that leaders hedging their bets was a universal thing.