Fallen Máni: Man

Bil stared at the starlit sky. The distant lights were dimmed by Man's own lights, and that comforted her.

She didn't want to think about them, and what they represented.

After Manuel had left, she left soon after, without saying a word. Normally, the sunset reminded her of spilled blood, but that evening it seemed more like a dying ember. 

Bil knew she had let Sól and Hjúki down, and it tore her apart.

She tore herself apart, nails freshly red as she dug them into her arms. She had felt some confidence, enough to talk to Manuel and enough to make Hjúki proud. She thought she was finally accomplishing something.

Yet, it didn't matter. She knew that it was a hill of accomplishment for her, her brother and her aunt, followed by an endless abyss of disappointment.

As soon as the Sun disappeared in the distance, she tore into herself, again and again while the stars grew brighter or darker in accordance to the whims of streetlight. 

Eventually, when humanity's light won that battle, she ceased, her flesh healing. Blood, however, still sprayed the rooftop, running down the tiles, dripping and dropping into a puddle way below. Flowers grew from it, crimson tulips and clot-colored lilies.

Bil wasn't aware of them. 

Her eyes were on the stars, and in spite of their dimness they were still there, instilling her with the dreaded truth, the awareness of how small she was in the vastness of the universe.

“At least the stars are always the same” she mused bitterly.

As if on cue, the stars vanished. As did the city-lights. A mantle of darkness, so black that all light died, filled the air in all directions. Bil's eyes saw nothing but a desolate void, permeating all of existence from the space between the stars to her immortal soul.

She relaxed, and smiled.

Aw, don't cut yourself.

The darkness shifted like turbulent waters, currents of black separating from each other, then fusing again just as quickly. Then it diminished, and Bil could see again.

To her side was another god, much older than her, and perhaps much older than time itself. 

She was wearing a black leather minidress and black leather platinum boots with red ripped fishnets and black eyeliner and lipstick. Her eyes were as dark and mysterious as the most distant nebulae and her hair a pitch black void that reached to her mid-back.

That's mah job.

"Nótt!" exclaimed Bil, "It's so good to see you! Where have you been!?"

Eh, shoplifting I guess. It's so bright these days, now that MCR is gone. Le sigh. Oh, and how have YOU been? I saw you cutting yourself, which I think it's pretty neat. We should totally do a group-cutting session.

"Máni's about to return" Bil responded.

And you don't know how to handle that.

"Yes" Bil said, "Well, it's more than just that."

You feel small in the grand scheme of things.

“Yes." 

Bil paused, staring at the sky once more.

"I just, I feel so small. I'm a god, and in the end what good did it do to stop this mess?"

Ah, the curse of divinity. To be as high as possible in the scheme of things... which only makes our lack of agency all the more urgent. Why are we good at too many things, except one?

Bil nodded.

"Not even the Allfather could stop this, and he plots for everything."

To be fair he's only a poser who had to sacrifice his eye for knowledge. He's trapped in his own, personally designed iron-maiden. Befitting of such a prep.

"What do you mean?" Bil asked.

That he doesn't have any taste in clothes.

"Come on, don't be so cryptic."

Fine. The Ragnarök isn't the only way. Happy?

Bil rose, staring at Nótt incredulously?

"What!? But it's a prophecy! It's woven in fate!"

And is fate certain?

Bil was taken aback.

"Well, yes. The Norns weave it and will it so." 

Bil stared at the stars again.

"Not even Odin can defy what they declare, hard as he tries."

I wouldn't use the one-eyed drunkard as an example of successful decision making. Idiot couldn't even foresee how dog abuse would bite him in the-

"But then how come all his plans backfire like that?" Bil said, frustration and desperation mixing into into a plea.

Like I said, poor decision making.

In the blink of an eye, Nótt stood up, and pointed to the city below.

Was that in any of the prophecies? Cars, buildings, my majestic Hot Topic wardrobe, were they ever mentioned in the Eddas?

"Well, no, but they didn't say that those things wouldn't exist either."

That's one crap of an argument and you know it. College preps call it "Argument from ignorance". Or was it "Naturalistic Fallacy"? 

Who cares, point is, we can play a game of "is it as the Norns saw fit or not" all night. Personally, I'd rather get wasted, kill some more goths for their clothes and watch Shark Attack 3, but I think we need to catch up.

"Oh?" Bil asked.

She wasn't adverse to the idea, in fact she  was delighted that her friend was there, after leaving for so many years. 

The concepts the night produced also won Bil over. Doubt edged on her mind, but it was quickly withdrawn, like light snuffed by the shadows. 

She found herself able to distract herself once more. This time, her relief from the woes of existence and lack of choice came from curiosity, and desperation.

Bil needed answers. Urgently.

Indeed.

***

To the west, Hati meandered along the highway’s borders, between the asphalt and the grass, angrily. Sköll simply sat, his golden eyes firmly on his clothes. He noticed a small, dust composed stain, and turned around to meet his brother.

“Do you think I should wear more casual clothes?”

Hati growled.

“Aunt if I know, you are the one pretending to be a man.”

“Just askin’, no need for gaspin'" Sköll said with a pout.

“I knew this was a bad idea" Hati continued, his voice deep like brewing clouds before a storm,  "We should not bow to man’s trivial, temporary civilization, we should just charge! The gods wailed like startled rabbits when our father was free, when we were free, always watching to keep us on track of the Sun and Moon. We are Jötnar, nature’s flesh and chaos’ blood! We should trample their cities underfoot, we should-”

“Oh look, there's a van over there.”

And indeed, a pair of lights could be seen to the west, first two distant stars, then gradually increasing in radiance. 

From the dim illumination offered by them, Sköll could see that it was green with purple bands, something that he found particularly pleasing to his sight. He whistled, and the van began to lose speed. 

Sköll quickly waved his arm to it, motioning for the driver to stop. And so the van did, some five meters away. Sköll winked to his brother, and Hati moved into the darkness of the forest, waiting. 

Out of the driver seat’s door came a middle-aged man, wearing a sky blue shirt and dark blue jeans. 

He walked about in the road and grass confusedly, as if wondering why he stopped, before Sköll’s sudden movement startled him. 

It was as if he stared at a ghost.

"Jesus!" he exclaimed, and Sköll noticed something within the man. The scent of surprise was there, but so was a much deeper, more conscious fear.

"I'm so sorry for startling you" he said, half-sincere, "Didn't you see me waving?"

The man tried to speak, but only managed to stare at Sköll in a mixture of awe and embarrassment. Normally, the wolf would revel in his prey's weak state, but he was losing his patience as quickly as locusts leave barren fields.

“Not to be too rude, but could you give me a lift?” Sköll asked, nonchalantly, “Me and my dog need to go to-”

“You, you made me stop” the man said, unnerved.

"Well,  I just waved" Sköll said, "Not my fault you stopped, though I'm obviously not going to take your petty accusations to heart. Peace?"

“Y-you did something to me head" the man said, "You messed with my mind!"

Now this peaked Sköll's interest. True, all he did was whistle and wave, motions infused with magical intent. They were meant to be subtle, just brief enchantments, but evidently that's not what happened.

This mortal detected his will, somehow. Was Sköll too brusque, too unsubtle? The energy spent on the allure and on the glamor disproportionate? Or was this a sensitive magician, a potential shaman? 

The questions intrigued the white wolf, and in normal circumstances he would like to study and know the man, in every way imaginable.

"G-get away from me!” the driver shouted, running back towards the driver’s seat, ruining Sköll's chance.

Just then Hati sprung from the wilds, galloping fast and increasing in size, becoming twice larger than the van. The driver locked all the doors, but all it took was a swat from an enormous nose to grant the gigantic jaws access to flesh.

The driver screamed in complete agony and terror as his body was thrashed and shaken, destroyed by the massive gnawers in the darkness of night, much to Sköll’s bemused glee. He was mildly upset that the shaman's potential would never be reached, but it was still funny.

Hati's jaws kept crushing through the bones and flesh and his neck viciously shook the head about, spreading gore all over the vegetation, the asphalt and the van.

This lasted for about half an hour, before the screams began to die down into painful wailing and sobbing, followed by silence, punctuated by low whimpers. 

Finally, with a single swipe, Hati threw the body away. It flew all the way to the midst of the woods, chunks of clothes, muscle, viscera and bodily fluids being projected like a macabre comet tail. 

Hati shook his pelt and head, with no more ceremony than a dog shaking off water, but Sköll was positively thrilled.

“Did you see the way his blood sparkled under starlight?” he asked his brother excitedly, like an enthusiastic kid pointing at something he found awesome, “It was amazing! Like a rainbow, only without green! And all the drops falling diagonally, it really was like Asbrú! Only prettier. And then all the guts, and the little pancreas, and-”

If Hati was listening to anything Sköll was saying, he didn’t show, simply walking towards the van, his snout and chest still bloody. He inspected it with vague curiosity, before staring back at his brother.

“Drive it” he roared, irritated and angry.

***

Bil and Nótt were at the docks. 

With the night's interference, there were very few lights; now darkness extended from water to sky, interrupted only by metallic gleams of boats and supports, and the occasional distant household.

"Why are we here?" Bil asked.

It wasn't like Nótt to move away from the social scene, to go where the darkness laid instead of bringing it to malls and chew out "posers" and other casual explorers of the night. 

Especially not given how she was dressed: black fishnet pants, silver high-heels, black corset, purple lipstick. Nothing practical to wander in the creaking wood of the docks, yet she stepped fearlessly, always on firm ground, without losing any balance.

There was almost no one in the docks besides them, though a scraping sound in the wood pole projecting from the water made Bil suspicious.

To ponder, duh, Nótt said with a "dude-you're-such-a-retard" look on her face, that's why we came to the middle of nowhere, to think on our place in the universe and stuff. Plus, it illustrates my point further as you will see.

"So, can we actually..." Bil paused, barely believing what she was about to say.

Change fate? Yes.

"But how, Nótt?" Bil asked desperately, "I've seen how prophecy is made, I've seen it become true."

And now you're seeing it unravel, spiraling totally off-course.  I haven't read the Eddas in a while - and don't plan to anytime, by the way. Seriously, it's basically a nutjob pretending we're greek heroes or some bull like that. 

Nótt's sneered in disgust, then applied black lipstick to her already pitch dark lips.

Anyways, you may have a point about the cars, but I'm pretty sure the Moon doesn't disappear and we get stuck with lake seas, dying worlds and a timeline where Kurt Cobain survived and got crappy. Face it, these past 15 years are an anomaly, the proof that the prophecies are wrong!

Bil wanted to reply. Maybe this just wasn't mentioned, and things will go on as said, or perhaps  Who knows how many Ragnaröks there will be? 

But she knew it be mere insistence, mere tautology. It was truly obvious things weren't as they were supposed to be, and that fate flowed in a different way.

Instead, a different sentence began to be weaved in her mind, and she spoke it aloud, an almost perfect parallel chain of thought and word:

"Every time you told me about how the prophecies are wrong, you mention human inventions and progress."

Well, duh. Did you also notice how this place exemplifies that?

Bil looked around. Even in the utter darkness, she could still see the platforms of wood, the many mechanized levers both to raise boats, act as bridges or control the flow of water. The boats themselves were complex, from gracile sails to robust bulks, woven in metal and wood from chrome to dark.

Operating all of this, however, was the water, which Bil felt like blood, coursing through the docks and its technology. 

The tides had long faded and died, and in their place several under water pumping systems resurrected  the current, pushing boats and operating levers. Through hydraulic violence, the whole dock system was in operation, moved about by undead waters.

"What would Máni think of this" Bil pondered, torn between amazement at the cleverness of humanity or disgusting at infusing the water with this "unlife".

I dunno, why don't you ask him?

Bil sighed, swatting her hair away. She bit her lip, hard enough to draw a drop of blood that flowed down her chin.

Yay, group cutting session!

"No, not yet" Bil said firmly.

She took a deep breath, and stood tall, confident, ready.

"You know, Nótt, I thought of running away. To just not face Máni in his human form, to just wait it out. But I know it wouldn't be fair to him."

Fairness is a lie. The lie Forseti whimpers every night, ever since the Frisians called him Fosite. What a dumb name.

"Please, let's not talk about this" Bil said hastily.

But it's important! It's the crux of my point!

"What, that we're known by my names by all cultures of the world?" asked Bil, trying to stall the conversation for one second more.

No, that morality, like fate, is a lie.

Bil sighed.

"So you just want me to give in to nihilism?" she asked. 

She didn't have time to defend goodness and decency, especially not in that state.

Don't you see, mah gurl? If you understand that these concepts are false, you'll stop to wallow in your self-pity and actually do something about them!

"How?" Bil asked, "If the universe has no purpose, what's even the point?"

To do whatever you want, silly. Now, how about we head over to the bar? I could use some thug skulls to decorate my fishnets.

Bil turned around, staring one last time at the direction where the scraping sound came from. Nótt dissipated some of her essence from the area, allowing more boatlight to pierce through the darkness.

She saw a girl, probably no older than ten, tying ropes around the pole, to lock-in a mid-sized, blue and white trawler. She wore a life-vest, half-deflated, which Bil thought mirrored her tired, broken face.

Bil couldn't help herself, and walked over to the girl. As soon as Bil was right next to the pole, the girl was startled, eyes wide open, all remnants of weariness giving in to alarm. She held on to the pole, trying to hide behind it to no avail.

But as the girl stared at Bil, the fear gave into sheer awe. For some reason, that stranger invoked a sense of beauty and peace within her, infusing her soul with each heart beat. 

Tears of joy run down her face, and she stopped the pretense of hiding, embracing Bil and being met with the most soft, warm hug she had ever felt. 

Nótt rolled her eyes, and took out a bottle of beer.

The girl cried, little whimpers evolving into loud sobbing, and Bil knew immediately the situation at hand. It infuriated her, but she tried her hardest to remain calm.

"I'll take it from here" Bil soothed, "You should take some sleep."

The girl nodded viciously.

"My father, he'll-"

"He'll die."

The little girl's horror lasted for a second more, as Bil gently willed her to sleep with a soft, hypnotic gaze. 

She took control of the mats of seaweed, reeds and other plants and fashioned a simple bed out of them, dry and full of her own crane feathers. She laid the girl there, in that firm but extremely soft bed, where she'd stay until the end of the night.

Nótt stared, bemused, throwing the beer bottle away. It landed on a boat, a shower of shards darkened by her presence.

Now, to shed blood for the blood god!

Bil jumped from the dock into the boat. 

She headed straight for the door to the main chambers, punching it open. Inside was a mass of jacket, boots and middle aged man body, curled against a bench, hiccuping. Bottles, intact or broken, surrounded him, some of the glass piercing his flesh.

Compared to her own experience, Bil found him to be more pathetic than terrifying, which inspired as more outraged sort of zeal within her. She punched the defenseless man, cheek bones cracking and teeth flying in an agonizing scream.

He opened his eyes and stared into hers, and she allowed to feel all the emotions and unpredictability he had imposed on his own child.

But only for a second. 

As soon a another scream began to build in his throat, Bil manifested a blade - a crane feather, woven and sharpened until it resembled as scimitar - and cut his throat. She let him gargle in panic, wasting his final moments in frantic movements and blood bubbling out of his throat.

Bil didn't even watch him die. She left the ship, and flew back to the unconscious girl. 

As a crane, she sat on her, protecting her with her wings. Bill's tears of joy and worry were of liquid platinum, and it soon piled into a mound almost as large as the child.

"I did it Nótt, I-"

But Bil quickly realized that the night had vanished. 

In fact, in the distant hills, light flashed and moved, as if creating pockets of daylight, a sweltering white that ended the cool dark breezes. These pockets were short lived, but they gradually became longer, larger and brighter towards the east.

There, the sun's rays began crossing the horizon, beyond the sea.

***

Sköll  opened first the side door, sliding it to reveal that it indeed was devoid of other passengers. But it was full of boxes and crates, occupying most of the seats and clogging the midsection. 

Hati decreased in size to about as big as a Great Dane, and reluctantly walked inside, curling up besides some of the larger boxes.

“Aw, you almost look a grown up Scrappy!” said Sköll, closing the door before Hati could reply.

Hati grunted, laying his head on the floor. Closing his eyes, he heard something ripping itself apart, before Sköll’s cologne scent filled the air. This was followed, in turn, by a small click.

“It’s been a while since I drove one of these” Sköll said matter-of-fact-ly, “Hope you don’t mind some turbulence.”

Sköll started the van, and immediately did Hati understand where he was coming from. And he seriously wished he hadn’t: the vehicle shook violently, Sköll not quite having the hang of it, just barely avoiding getting out of the asphalt. 

The van moved about in zig-zagging patterns, the crates and boxes were thrown and so was Hati. The wolf barked as boxes fell on him, then barely able to protest as the driver’s antics threw him from the center to the left wall, then to the right wall and against a crate. 

Before the laws of physics could screw him over again, Hati dug his claws deeply on the metal floor, anchoring himself firmly as he stressed his tendons, in a somewhat cat-like fashion. 

But the boxes still jumped about, colliding him from all sides.

“Sköll!” he barked, as a box fell on his head.

“Just a second, I think I’m getting it now!”

And indeed, the violent shaking, while keeping on for several more minutes, gradually started to stabilize, until Sköll managed to stop the imbalance and drive relatively normally. 

For Hati, the change was slightly too sudden to be natural, and he suspected that his brother did it on purpose, though frankly it was hard to tell. He had always resented Sköll’s ways, but it was in specific moments like that in which he actually pondered on whereas he needed to die or not. 

Nausea lingered in his insides, and combined with the stress of his hardened muscles it made him very tired. He relaxed his body, almost corpse like in how motionless it became, before his eyes closed, dreamless.

He felt some road bumps later on. Something heavy and warm - a coat? - laid on his body. In his skewed perception of time, he didn’t know how long he slept, and he didn’t care, falling asleep again, nuzzling against the surprise gift.

***

Dawn rose quickly. 

Sól noticed the odd patches of daylight, congregating across the hills, meadows and forests, violently dismantling the darkness of night. They gradually shifted towards, almost forming a continuous light with her's.

Only, the yellow and orange sunlight seemed rather out of place in the bright, midday-like white. In effect, the light of dawn didn't arrive to dispel the darkness, but to drown in greater light.

Sól was surprised, but she immediately realized who the culprit was, recognizing his radiance.

"Why are you disrupting light and dark?" Sól asked.

From the sunlight she manifested herself, fully armored in white gold, sword and shield on her belt. Her head bore a large helmet, forming a dome above her head and seemingly fused to her hair, shielding all of her face aside from her eyes, shifting between a fiery gold or a deathly white.

She rode a chariot of erratic flares, pulled by brilliant white horses, manes and tails the color of magnesium stirring the air. 

She stood still, austere and impatient, waiting.

Soon after, the bright white light of day also manifested a form: a single white horse, as bright as the Sun's steeds but much less fiery, its mane and tail waving in a radiant mist. Atop this horse came to be a rider, coated in in a platinum and brass armor and a long blue cape.

Unlike Sól, however, his face was almost indistinct in its brightness.

Greetings, my sovereign, my elven-wheel, my fire of sky and air. This "disruption", as you put it, is a most urgent matter.

"Is it now?" Sól asked skeptically.

Of course, have I ever failed to my duties?

Sól conceded with a grunt.

"Explain yourself" she said, suspicion still in her mind.

In the light of the celestial alignment that will take place soon I took the liberty to extend daylight as necessary. For instance, if the procedures move too slowly, or in case I necessitate to calm down the masses. I obviously cannot control the movements of your body and Máni's, but I can grant the gift of daylight, most beloved and dear to mankind.

"So you're training for that?" Sól asked dryly.

Indeed I am. I assumed that you'd prefer for me to act at the time of dawn, when the light's expansion is most natural.

"Did Nótt agree to this?" Sól asked, "After all she owns all that which lacks your presence."

No, and frankly I do not need her approval. She is evil and worse yet, irresponsible. She does not care about the health of the Nine Realms, while I have spent nay a second resting since your brother's Fall, all for the sake of the mortal races.

Sól rolled her eyes.

"Fine" she concluded, "But I hope your 'gift', as you call this, remains subtle. If you need to 'practice' - which, let's be entirely honest, you do not - go somewhere else, where no one is looking. I'll be keeping an eye on you."

As I hoped you would.

To Bil, his last sentence carried a sinister sensation, that reminded her of light burning skin. 

He and his horse departed, bowing and dissipating like mist. Daylight kept spreading, now naturally so as the Sun's light had already been established.

Noticing Bil, Sól approached her. Piece by piece, her armor and chariot disappeared, until only she, clad in bright gold, and her horses stood next to Bil and the sleeping girl.

"I see you've made a friend" Sól asked curiously.

"Yes" Bil answered with a joyful trumpeting call  from her crane throat.

"You should probably let her be, though" Sól said.

Bil obliged, and flew away. Sól followed her example, her form dissipating as the Sun now fully emerged from the horizon.

The girl woke up alone, but safe. Next to her was a massive pile of platinum, that separated itself into multiple, thumb-sized round coins.

You're free, a voice said in her head, keep it in your boat, people who will give you a better home will come in an hour from now.

"Thank you" she whispered, tears of her own running down her face.

With effort, the girl rose and went to the boat, tacking out several buckets where she stored the coins. One by one, the buckets spilled their contents into a safe, within the boat's central room.

From afar up the hill, Bil watched, perched atop a willow tree, overseeing the docks.

"I'm proud of what you did" Sól said, manifesting next to Bil.

Sitting on it, Sól lowered the branch, forcing Bil to flap her wings to regain her balance.

"But" Sól continued, curiosity and concern oozing in her voice, "The docks aren't usually where you go to think."

"I was hanging out with Nótt" Bil said hastily.

Sól rolled her eyes.

"I might not agree with everything Mr. 'I'm just practicing', but he is right in that she is evil" Sól said sternly, "Did she tell you to cut yourself again?"

"Yes" Bil said, "She's just joking."

"No, she really isn't" Sól said.

"She does know something true, though" Bil blurted.

Sól sighed.

"What?" she asked, resigned.

"She told me fate is a lie."

A silence followed. Bil didn't dare to look at her face, but she could feel from the surrounding light that the Sun wasn't pleased.

"Of course she'd say that" Sól said, fuming.

"But what if's true?" Bil asked.

Sól's light and heat increased, burning the bark she was sitting on and her burning rays setting the leaves on fire. Bil's heart raced with anticipation and fear, following the crescendo of energy until its explosion:

"It doesn't matter if it is!"

More than anything, Bil was confused. But, as she took a breath to ask that question, Sól's form vanished in a flash of light.

We'll talk about this when Máni is back in the skies, Sól said to Bil, her "voice" pure light.

Bil took off. She flew in circles, above the tree, climbing from the sky above that willow to the branches of a greater tree, Yggdrasil.

She had to find the truth.