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Asgard Awakening 2, ch 20
🕑 Added 2020-06-14 04:55:00 +0000 UTC
Trav stood at the front of his group with Hravalin and Bravoosa. He hadn’t been sure what to expect when they’d traveled to the center of the harpy territory where the Bernacian Royal was supposed to live, but he’d still been surprised when it’d been a swamp. He also hadn’t expected the crowd.
The three Guide groups stood on what was more or less an island in the middle of the bog, about a mile from the Royal palace. All around the island were other little islands, walkways built among the trees, and even little boats--all full of spectating harpies.
Trav turned to Yaakova and whispered, “I thought Bernacians were plains harpies.”
“We are.” She looked around. “This was the site where Bernacia herself received a vision and knew to make this place our home.”
“Oh.”
Trav scanned the crowd. He would have expected more noise, but most of the harpies watching were staying silent. Then he remembered that Yaakova had just told him that this was a sacred place for harpies. Maybe the swamp was like their church.
Something suddenly occurred to Trav. “I havent met your mother or father. Are they here?”
“Yes, but I am not speaking to either.”
Trav didn’t know what to say to that, so he looked around instead. He could feel hundreds, maybe thousands of eyes on him and he was very aware all over again that he was the only human on the central island. To his left, the group from the North tribe stood in disciplined ranks, with cloaks and cowls hiding their features. The sheer size of some made it obvious they weren’t all harpies, though.
On his right, the South tribe team stood like chained dogs, quivering with restrained violence. Most of them wore animal skins, and almost all of them carried magical aids and artifacts. Their group buzzed with dark magic and the stink of blood. A good number of them were sending Trav murderous looks, or outright staring at him.
Trav wasn’t entirely sure what the three groups were waiting on. The quiet and sense of expectation made him start second guessing his plans. He’d decided to play this by ear, but to try to fly under the radar as much as possible. Living in the East tribe for a few weeks had made him underestimate the hostility he’d get. Trav wasn’t sure if the angry looks he was receiving were because he was a human or had named himself a god, but either way, some sort of confrontation was likely.
Hopefully, if it came to violence, someone else would be dumb enough to break the rules of the meeting, first.
Order had been maintained so far at all times. Well-outfitted guards watched from everywhere, all wearing the royal uniform. There were guards from all three tribes as well, and the various groups of guards seemed to be as suspicious of each as any trouble from the audience. From the moment Trav’s group had been brought to the island with the other two groups, there had been silence and tension. His fingers tightened on his spear.
Suddenly, a flash of green light and purple smoke bloomed from the center of the island. After the smoke cleared, the three elders were revealed, all holding an ornate staff. Trav turned up the sensitivity of his magical vision and suddenly understood why the surrounding harpies seeme hushed, subdued.
Lines of magical power criss-crossed all the islands, creating a dark web of power. It wasn;t rune magic, but was still powerful. Trav traced the spell working and saw how the three Elders were in control, like they were holding puppet strings. They’d likely inherited knowledge of how to use this array when they’d gotten their positions. If anyone opposed them in this swamp, it wouldn’t end well for their enemies.
Trav was even able to find the section of the array that had allowed the Elders to walk in undetected before making the magical smoke. It was a clever bit of spellwork.
An elaborately dressed old harpy--but younger than the elders--stepped forward. “Bernacians! The time for the Royal trial is here! Most of you know me, the Royal Seneschal. I am here to introduce our Bernacian Elders. Everyone please be respectful and listen to the trial scenario!”
Trav had never seen the Seneschal before, but he knew who she was--probably the second most powerful leader of Bernacia after the Royal. One of the elders glanced out of the corner of her eye at the Seneschal and it was not a friendly look. Trav quirked a smile, and the elder noticed. She winked.
After the Seneschal got done talking, there was another flash and another explosion. Now another old harpy stood next to the three Elders, but was obviously separate. “The Ancient!” called the seneschal in mock surprise. “This is truly an honor. The Ancient has not been seen in years!”
As the harpies in the crowd ruffled their feathers in interest, Trav studied the Ancient. She was wrinkled, her skin looked like old leather, and her eyes were grey and clouded. Trav had never seen a harpy that looked more like the harpies from legend, or at least what he thought they looked like based on cartoons and games he’d seen on earth.
Ugly and evil looking, Trav decided.
The three Elders were visibly surprised. “Why have you come, eldest sister?” one asked.
“I was given information the younger generation might have lost their way. Pay no attention to me for the time being. Make your announcement.” She made a little shooing motion with one gnarled, clawed hand.
Trav was starting to get a bad feeling.
The Elders seemed to be thrown off their game a bit, but continued with the show. They spoke all at once, “The teams have been settled for some time now. We present the company of Guide Trevall of the North tribe, Guide Gravalin of the East Tribe, and Guide Palaeno of the South Tribe!”
There was a polite, faint rubbing of feathers, and one of the Elders continued, “The place of the trial is a Veil-overlap!”
Immediate rustling met the announcements, even a few whispers, and the Elders held up all their hands at once for silence. “The three Guide teams will be led to different instances of the same Veil-overlap, given provisions, and sent on their way! The team that brings back the most treasures to strengthen Bernacia will win the challenge, deciding the new Royal.
”Any Guide or team member that leaves the overlap may not go back inside. As soon as the Guide leaves, her Trial is over. Only fighters on the official roster will be allowed to enter. All fighters will be implanted with magic to track their return before they enter the Veil-overlap. This is a large overlap, so there are likely other instances in Asgard. There are sure to be many dangers! Guides must lead their companies well!”
Another subdued reaction from the surrounding harpies showed their actual excitement. Trav’s adrenaline started to spike, as two things happened at once. First, he began to learn bits and pieces of what a “Veil-overlap” might be through his borrowed memories. Second, he began to suspect what the enemies of the East tribe--or Hravalin’s sister Greeda in particular--might be trying to do.
The Elders spoke at once again, saying, “There is no time limit for the trial, but death of the Guide is failure. Bringing back fewer treasures from the overlap than the other Guides will be failure. Do any of the guides have any questions?”
After a moment of silence, the Southern Tribe guide, Palaeno, a tall harpy with dyed feathers stepped forward. “What treasures? How will value be calculated?” Her voice was harsh and challenging.
The Elders nodded. One said, “If there is any question about the judging, there will be a public court session to declare the winner. Treasure can mean anything of value to Bernacia.”
After a slow nod, Palaeno took a step back. Then the North tribe Guide, Trevall, stepped forward and threw her cloak off. As soon as she did, her entire company did too. Trav admired the North tribe’s style even though he knew they were a bunch of power-hungry back stabbers.
In a carrying tone, Trevall said, “The North tribe is honored to be here, and me most of all! But how can we continue like this? I have Kin other than harpies in my ranks, I will admit, but are slaves truly allowed now?”
“Slaves?” asked one of the Elders.
Trav knew exactly where this was likely going, but it wasn’t time to act yet. He stayed completely still but prepared his energy. His power was on a different level now than when he’d first bonded with Narnaste. All of his valkyries had grown stronger too, but Trav had sixteen bars of power now.
He’d thought long and hard about how to use his new power. The more he’d used magic over the months, the more efficient he became with it, so he’d decided to use up two more bars of power on permanent enhancements. His reasoning had been that he wouldn’t always know ahead of time that a dangerous situation was coming.
His earlier permanent enhancements were his two bar upgrade, Overall Strength, Ventrilomagic, Air Scribing, a weak magic shield, two bars into focus and renewal abilities, Shadowwalk, one bar spent on reaction time before, and a bar in mental toughness. Then a few days earlier, he’d spent two more bars of power raising his agility, durability, strength, and reaction time even further than before. This was possible due to his previous investments.
Travall pointed at Trav and yelled, “The East tribe is so weak, they needed to recruit a human slave!”
Silence met the proclamation at first. Trav’s attention never left the Ancient, so he saw when her nostrils flared and her mouth quirked a tiny bit. The Ancient pointed at Hravalin and yelled, “Is this true, East tribe Guide?”
Hravalin frowned. “No, of course not, Ancient! My entire company has been approved! Travis is human, but he is a powerful addition to my team! The purpose of gathering a company is to show our leadership, right?”
Travall crossed her wrists, wicked claws dangling, and said, “Humans are weak. Male humans are valuable for mating, not much else. I object to this human being put in danger to appease Hravalin’s delusions, and because her family is too weak to field real soldiers.”
One of the elders frowned. “The teams were approved.”
“I believe you were misled,” Elder. Travall clicked her claws in a sign of respect, but her eyes glittered. Some of the watching harpies began to murmur or ruffle their feathers.
The manipulation and politics were really obvious, and Trav had had enough. A thread of anger, and even some of his old hatred surfaced. He was really getting tired of Kin calling him a slave, reminding him of the mines. It had taken him a long time to accept it, but he had inherited Odin’s mantle, for better or for worse. He put a hand on Hravalin’s shoulder, stepped forward, and said, “I’m not a slave, not anymore. I am the Allfather reborn.”
All around the island, harpies began making noise, and Travall angrily spread her arms and wings. “What--”
“Shut the fuck up, you scheming bitch.” Trav had already summoned Hex and was drawing a rune equation in the air behind him, hidden from sight by his body. “Just say which of your people I need to kill to prove that your concern is fake.”
Trav knew how to talk to Kin, how to deal with them.
“How dare this slave speak to a Guide this way,” growled the Ancient. “He will be punished!” She pointed dramatically at Trav...and nothing happened. Then she pointed again. Her arm dropped, and Trav smiled nastily at her. He’d already severed the Elders’ and Ancient’s control of the swamp array.
Then he activated one line of magic that tapped the source of the array deep within the earth. He disappeared from sight for a second before he reappeared in a billow of smoke the same way that the Elders had earlier. All around the island, the spectating harpies looked shocked.
Trav completely ignored the Ancient and pointed Hex at Travall. “So who is it going to be? Which of your soldiers are you going to sacrifice? I’m in a bad mood, and I want to get moving.”
Suddenly, unexpectedly, one of the biggest harpy warriors from the South tribe formation screeched in anger. It sounded like she yelled something like, “Shameful slave!,” as she ran at Trav. The attacking warrior was dressed in heavy armor, much with a huge two-handed sword held aloft.
Trav had memorized all of the rules a week ago. Physically attacking another team member before the Trial was a major breach of protocol and could be severely punished. More importantly, the right to self defense was absolute.
After the screeching harpy had almost reached him and nobody else had moved, Trav spun and activated Shatter. His spear buzzed with lethal magic, and Trav punched the tip right through the attacking harpy’s chest armor like it was wet tissue paper.
She was shocked, standing in place with her sword still raised above her head. Trav leveled Hex and coldly said, “Gust.” Wind violently erupted from the dagger, knocking the stricken Kin’s body clear off the island and freeing Trav’s spear. He turned, shook the blood off of Shatter, and said, “Is that good enough?”
The looks he was getting now were much different from before. In the North tribe group, there was some disbelief and anger, but also calculation. The South tribe’s Guide, Palaeno, screeched, “Tricks! This man is too strong to be human! This is cheating!”
Trav spun again and leveled his spear, making the harpy flinch. “One of you says I’m too weak, one says I’m too strong? Which is it? But it doesn’t matter, does it? The entire point of this exercise is to show that the Guides can attract strong followers. If you have a problem, come find Hravalin after the trial starts. Better yet, find me.”
When he turned, Trav noticed the subtle signal that Travall was giving the Ancient. He also noticed the Seneschal making some sort of motion. Then predictably, the Ancient said, “This human has committed murder, before the trial--”
Trav used a tiny bit of power and whispered, “Louder,” to amplify his voice. Then he said, “What, was I supposed to just stand there while you watched? I merely defended myself.”
“Ancient, this human acted in self defense,” said one of the Elders.
Trav stared down the Ancient, and when Hravalin stepped forward, he automatically took a few steps back where he’d been before. Hravalin said, “This was all very unfortunate, especially that the South tribe has already lost a fighter, but my soldier was attacked! Everyone saw it. I believe we should move to begin the trial before there are any more...accidents.” Hravalin grinned and Trav approved. Yaakova’s sister was quick.
All around the island, the observing harpies were still as stone. They were obviously trying to decide how to react. Meanwhile, the Elders, including the Ancient, had to know by now that Trav had taken away their control of the surrounding array. Now they were all just old harpies. They were probably still dangerous, and likely had their own magic, but the crowd surrounded them. The array was obviously the reason why the crowd was so well-behaved. Trav wondered how the watching harpies would react if they knew their leaders had lost their control.
“Yes, let us proceed. I believe the complaint has been addressed,” hissed the Ancient.
The Elders’ faced showed now emotion, but their feathers dropped in relief. One stepped forward and said, “There will be no more violence in this sacred place! Guides, you will each have your team gather your horses, and all three of you will follow one Elder to a guarded overlap site. Good luck.”
As the guid teams left the swamp, Trav began to hear muttering, then arguments behind them. In a few more minutes, the harpies that had been watching would figure out what they thought about what they’d just seen, and either way, Trav wanted to be gone when they did.
Now he just needed to help Hravalin win. If the East tribe won, the show of force and defiance Trav had just made would likely help him get some more faith power.
