《Valkyrie's Shadow》Winter's Crown: Act 8, Chapter 18
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Chapter 18
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to get that Nuk sticking out of the bag.”
“Don’t do that.”
“…why?”
“Because it’s someone else’s food – you can’t go around stealing from your host!”
After Ludmila’s account of her fight in the storm, Gudrun excused herself to retire for the night. The sound of her soft breathing issued from the back of the room, though she supposed that if one considered how far that was, it probably wasn’t all that soft. At least she didn’t snore.
Lady Shalltear had taken Ludmila’s notes with her, so Ludmila was left to mentally review what had occurred. She still couldn’t wrap her head around it. While it was true that a Cleric was seen as an agent of the gods by Humans, Gudrun’s perception of Lady Shalltear went far beyond that. A purveyor of souls – one who delivered the worthy to the Frost Giants’ iteration of a blessed afterlife.
Certain sects of Ludmila’s faith saw Angels as having a connection to the divine, but it was nowhere near as strongly expressed as Gudrun’s perception of a Valkyrie. It was also understood that beings summoned by Tier Magic were not quite the same as the real thing. Divine magic was seen as the broad allowance of a god’s power being channelled by one of their divine agents. Whether a Cleric was bestowing a blessing or inflicting a curse, summoning Angels or raising Undead, it was all seen as an authorized exercise of divine power. It wouldn’t happen if it wasn’t.
Some religions – such as the Faith of the Four – considered necromancy taboo due to its associations with the Undead and the energies associated with them, and thus did not cast any spells from that school of magic. A Cleric of Surshana like Themis, however, had absolutely no qualms about blasting someone in the face with negative energy, reanimating their corpse, then sending her new pet after their old friends if it was the best solution for a given problem.
Clerics did the work of their gods, and Lady Shalltear presumably did so as a Cleric…yet Ludmila hadn’t a clue who that god was. The secular nature of both her former and current nation made discussing matters of religion uninvited a taboo, especially for those who held any significant authority.
Ilyshn’ish’s voice drew Ludmila from her thoughts.
“Can I go now?”
“Did Lady Shalltear grant you permission to leave?”
“No…”
“Then no.”
“Eh…”
She attempted to use Ludmila as an excuse to go off and do things, as well.
They waited in silence. Ilyshn’ish would occasionally move around and try to do something, which Ludmila would put a stop to. Ludmila reminded herself that it was probably just how Frost Dragons investigated the world around them, but it still felt like she was looking after a restless toddler.
“If you’re bored,” Ludmila said, “how about we continue with our lessons?”
Ilyshn’ish made a face. It really was like dealing with a toddler. An extremely powerful toddler. It was a good thing that she didn’t have tantrums…hopefully.
“Is there anything you’ve come across recently that you have trouble understanding? Perhaps I can provide an explanation or at least an interpretation.”
“There are a few things…” Ilyshn’ish settled down somewhat, “Some of them have to do with you, so I probably shouldn’t say.”
“Someone said something about me?”
“Lord Cocytus did,” Ilyshn’ish replied.
Ludmila held Ilyshn’ish’s gaze, waiting patiently for her to continue. Ilyshn’ish only stared back at her blankly.
“…what?”
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“You’re not going to tell me?”
“Did you not hear what I said before?”
“I promise I won’t get angry or elbow you or anything like that.”
“I don’t think it’s something to become angry over…”
“Then why won’t you…don’t tell me that you think it’s something that you can use against me.”
Ilyshn’ish turned her gaze away, and Ludmila sighed. There were plenty of stories about villainous nobles that plotted evil deeds behind their liege’s backs, but she never imagined that she would ever be in that situation.
“Ilyshn’ish,” she said, “I understand that Frost Dragons don’t think or behave the same way as Humans do so it may not matter, but I will go ahead and say this plainly. I’m not out to get you, nor do I have my desire to be your enemy. I just want to be a liege who you can place your trust in, and that our relationship is both productive and amicable. I would much like it if we could also be friends.”
“Lady Shalltear ordered you to take me as your pet,” Ilyshn’ish replied suspiciously. “Your ploy to lure me into a life of pethood won’t work!”
“I won’t deny that those are Lady Shalltear’s orders,” Ludmila said, “but don’t you think it’s better that it happens on your own terms? Lady Shalltear is patient, but even her patience has limits.”
“A-are you threatening me?”
“No, quite the opposite,” Ludmila told her. “I don’t want to have it happen that way. A Ranger’s pet is a cherished companion, not a slave. If this goes on for too long, Lady Shalltear may force you to submit…she might even charm you and make you do it yourself.”
A whimper rose from Ilyshn’ish. Her teary eyes widened as the portal of a Gate spell appeared, and she skittered behind Ludmila’s shoulder. Ludmila rolled her eyes. The Frost Dragon was perfectly willing to use her as a shield, yet couldn’t trust her at the same time.
“Welcome back, my lady,” Ludmila lowered her head in greeting.
Lady Shalltear turned at her voice, and a thoughtful expression came over her. Her gaze went from Ludmila to Ilyshn’ish, then lingered over the both of them.
“Hm...is this bonding? Affection between a pet and her mistress?” Her lips turned up in a salacious smile, “I must say that Aura doesn’t go about it this way, but her pets are nowhere near as…appealing. You’re quite the Adventurer, Baroness.”
“She hasn’t agreed to become my pet yet, my lady.”
“Is that so?” The smile fell off of Lady Shalltear’s face, “Come to think of it, she didn’t display any awareness of your influence as her liege, either. Shall I expedite things for the both of you?”
Ludmila felt Ilyshn’ish squeeze her shoulder. Her trembling could be felt through her fingers.
“It’s only been a short time since we were introduced,” Ludmila replied. “There will be plenty of opportunities for us to get to know each other properly when things go back to normal.”
“Normal, hm…” Lady Shalltear’s crimson gaze focused on Ludmila, “I wonder if that will ever be the case from now on.”
“My lady?”
A frown crossed Ludmila's lips. What did she mean by that? Though she participated in some activities that couldn’t be considered normal for a noble and being a noble of the Sorcerous Kingdom was decidedly distinct from being a noble elsewhere, the majority of her time did revolve around her duties to land and liege.
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There was a lifetime of work awaiting Ludmila in Warden’s Vale, and her participation in the Adventurer Guild was of secondary importance. She could afford to join expeditions when lulls in her demesne’s development were expected, but she couldn’t be away all the time.
“It’s not important for now,” Lady Shalltear waved a hand dismissively. “There’s something that needs to be done here first.”
“Is there anything that you require of us, my lady?”
Lady Shalltear withdrew a scroll from her inventory. It floated up from her open palm, bursting into azure flames.
『What’s important for now is that you follow what goes on between myself and Gudrun. We are about to wrap up this Frost Giant problem in one fell swoop.』
『What about Ilyshn’ish, my lady?』
『She knows how to keep her head down and, as a Bard, her acting skills are top-notch. I have no worries about her if she needs to extricate herself from something. As for you...well, don’t say anything that might hamper things.』
The message ended, and Ludmila was suddenly left to worry over being a potential source of problems for Lady Shalltear.
“Ilyshn’ish,” Lady Shalltear said, “go and wake Gudrun.”
Ilyshn’ish audibly swallowed, and she came out from behind Ludmila. Ludmila furrowed her brow at the scene of the Frost Dragon stealthily creeping forward. Was she going to wake Gudrun up, or assassinate her?
“Shouldn’t you have a spellsong for that?” Lady Shalltear said, “It’s a fairly low-level one.”
“Um...no?” Ilyshn’ish looked back over her shoulder, “Why would I ever need to learn something like that, my lady?”
Gudrun stirred, and Ilyshn’ish let out a startled noise. She skittered back behind Ludmila again. The Frost Giant turned over to face them, and her drowsy gaze drifted until it fell upon Lady Shalltear. Gudrun blinked her sleep away, rubbing her eyes as she propped herself up.
“Welcome, Valkyrie.”
She appeared to have many unspoken words hidden behind her expression, yet remained silent after her greeting.
“I have a question for you, Gudrun,” Lady Shalltear said. “What are your people doing?”
“My people? What do you mean?”
Her confusion was evident. Lady Shalltear, however, offered nothing in response.
“You…you mean the other tribes,” Gudrun’s voice filled the uncomfortable silence, “the ones who have strayed from the ways of our kind. I…I don’t know. I don’t know why they have done so: only that they have. They have forsaken our traditions and the lore that Skuld left with us, or have at best twisted them to suit their dishonourable purposes.”
“Hmph,” Lady Shalltear snorted. “I asked if you knew what they were doing. Do you think I care why? Judgement comes for the Frost Giants of the Azerlisia Mountains, Gudrun: I am not the only servant of the gods that has come to this place.”
“Who…who else have the gods sent?”
“A Knight of Niflheim – the Sovereign of the Frozen Rivers.”
Gudrun stared at them from where she sat, all hints of drowsiness vanished from her wide eyes. Her mouth worked silently, as if shocked mute by Lady Shalltear’s words. Long moments passed, then suddenly Gudrun’s eyes were filled with tears. When she spoke again, her words were very nearly a sob.
“For all of us?”
“The three northernmost tribes have already been taken,” Lady Shalltear told her. “Their villages and citadels lie empty; their souls cast down into the frozen wellspring to be ravaged for all eternity by Níðhöggr. Soon, this fate will be delivered to the great gathering that has come together in the place of the central tribes.”
“B-but what about the prophecies that were brought to us?” Gudrun asked in desperate tones, “Of the things that will come to pass. What of the time where our honoured ancestors will rise with the gods, to fight the great battle that decides their fate? Where the ground will shake, the mountains will fall, and the world burns…”
Lady Shalltear closed her eyes, letting out a tired sigh.
“That is why I asked you what your people are doing,” she said. “The prophecies you speak of, even Ragnarök – the fate of the gods – has long passed.”
“What!”
“It’s true,” Lady Shalltear told her. “Even Baroness Zahradnik’s people know of this. A time when gods and Dragons clashed and died, when mountains were felled and the world burned.”
Ludmila looked over at Lady Shalltear with the sudden mention of her name. Though she knew nothing of the Frost Giants’ prophecies, the events described were indeed well known to followers of The Six. Lady Shalltear nodded at her, and Ludmila turned her gaze up at Gudrun, who looked like she was about ready to collapse.
“It happened five centuries ago,” Ludmila said. “A great calamity fell upon the world. Gods fought Dragons and all manner of monsters and people. Mountains were split and ruin was wrought as the flames of war spread over the entire world. It was then when the last of the gods who lived amongst my people – Surshana – was slain. In the aftermath, the world was changed forever…the old world passed away.”
“Indeed,” Lady Shalltear said. “It is a new world now. The new world that Skuld spoke of in your prophecies. I asked what your people are doing because they survived, yet have languished for five centuries. Well, no matter – I suppose it was just curiosity on my part.”
A Gate opened before them.
“Ludmila, Ilyshn’ish – we’re heading back.”
Ludmila checked around them, searching for anything she might have left on the ground. She and Ilyshn’ish took their places beside Lady Shalltear.
“Wait!”
They stopped just before entering the portal.
“Wait, please,” Gudrun fell forward on her hands and knees. “The tribes have indeed fallen to the ways of weakness, but not all of my people deserve this fate! There…there must be something that can be done. If the gods will allow it, grant us one last chance to prove ourselves – to redeem our people!”
She pressed her forehead onto the ice, her long, frost-white hair spread out in a fan around her. Several minutes passed. Haggard breathing rose and fell as Lady Shalltear looked down imperiously upon her.
“Very well,” Lady Shalltear said at long last. “One chance.”
Gudrun looked up with tear-stained cheeks. Her eyes glimmered with the look of someone who only dared to hope.
“Will it be you that comes forward to deliver the will of the gods?” Lady Shalltear asked.
“No,” Gudrun answered. “I am not worthy. There can be only one who is suited to serve as your herald.”
She rose to her feet, tilting her head up proudly.
“Sigurd, Champion of the Frostreaver Tribe.”
Lady Shalltear turned to walk over to the pile of pelts at the back of the room, the heels of her armour sounding over the ice. Out of her inventory, she withdrew a familiar-looking rod and pointed it at the makeshift bedding.
“I hope I get the right one…” She muttered under her breath.
There was no flash of light or any effect that Ludmila could discern: the space was just suddenly occupied by the body of a Frost Giant. Its eight-metre tall form lay there silently, sculpted features looking very much like an impossibly described fictional character from a sultry novel that she had once found lying around in Lianne Wagner’s manor. Except he was very big and very blue.
Sigurd’s chest rose sharply as he sucked in a breath, and Gudrun let out a tearful gasp. His eyelids opened to reveal icy blue irises as he scanned the ceiling above. The Giant’s head turned. Sigurd’s eyes widened when his gaze fell upon them, and he abruptly sat up.
How did he do that?
Being as close to an expert on being resurrected that she knew of, Ludmila was amazed he could even move so soon after. Sigurd felt around the bedding, and Gudrun went over to retrieve an axe, placing it in his hand. To Ludmila’s further amazement, he stood up without assistance or apparent difficulty.
Sigurd stepped forward, and the ground shuddered as his towering figure came before them. He went to one knee, and the massive movement caused the air to tremble.
“Valkyrie,” Sigurd bowed his head, and his powerful voice reverberated around the building. “This warrior rises to your call!”
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