The sun shone bright overhead, heat radiated upon a meadow with vibrant green grass that was littered with flowers, a cool breeze swept through, forming verdant green waves across that carried the sweet scent of spring as it blew by. Rocks of varying sizes were scattered all over the meadow, each unique in their own way. Some had depictions of weapons while others had animals or even tools; each seemed to tell a different story.

They got progressively larger the further one went into the meadow and culminated with rocks so large they were akin to menhirs towards the centre. It was near here that one could see a large procession of people. Many were crying while others were tried to provide comfort and solace.

This was the funeral for Ljós Illugadóttir, a great warrior and loving wife who sadly passed away during childbirth. Many could still not believe what had happened. Death during childbirth was not unheard of, but for a warrior, let alone one who came from a war house, the chances of such a thing happening should have been minimal, if not non-existent. Nonetheless, it had happened, and now here they were to grieve and pay their respects.

There was such a crowd gathered because not only was Ljós, an exemplary warrior that perfectly represented what one should be. She had treated the common people well. Warriors were held in high regard and were considered upper-class members of the population. This led to many having proud attitudes, treating the commonfolk as peasants. So it was a surprise as Ljós was not just a warrior but from a long line that had ruled their city since its establishment. Her popularity was only further solidified when she decided to marry not only a blacksmith but a non-bender; it was something one would only see in children’s stories.

At the front of the procession was a beautifully decorated stone coffin. It floated off the ground while four men at each corner had their arms as if holding it up but without any contact. A haggard-looking man was following right behind them with messy hair and bags under his eyes from a lack of sleep. His feet dragged along the ground as he walked. Surrounding him were grieving friends and family. The rest of the procession followed this group consisting of mainly the general populace though there were some warriors in the mix.

Eventually, the procession stopped before a large menhir. It had many different carvings on it, some depicting battles. In contrast, others had incredible feats, such as one where a man was shown striking the ground with a hammer creating a large fissure that devoured a giant quadrupedal beast with no eyes, sharp teeth, and a long tongue. The coffin was placed on a slab of stone erected by one of the coffin bearers while people gathered around. Smiðr and company stood to the side as others came up, gave him some words of comfort and paid respects to Ljós. This continued for a while before a commotion was heard. Smiðr lifted his head towards the noise, the sun’s rays causing him to squint his eyes.

The crowd parted ways to let through a group led by a large man with dark brown hair who wore a cape. Beside him was a blonde woman who carried a baby. They continued until they were right in front of the coffin; not a single one of them looked towards Smiðr or those with him. The man placed a hand on the casket and closed his eyes, paying his respects. He let out a deep sigh and turned towards the blonde woman once he was done as if signalling her. She nodded before going forth to pay respects, followed by all the others in their entourage. Only once everyone was done did he turn towards Smiðr.

They locked eyes, neither willing to be the first to shift their gaze. Silence permeated the area causing the onlookers to grow increasingly uneasy. Smiðr was the first to break the silence, slightly bowing his head to show respect to the caped man now known as Eitri. “Thank you for making it to the funeral service Eitri. It is a great honour to have someone such as you here paying respects to Ljós and completing the ceremony.”

Eitri only nodded in response, his face not showing the slightest bit of change. “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it; she is an Illugi, after all. Ljós will be remembered fondly by those that loved her.” His voice was deep and carried a certain feeling of authority. He then turned towards the large crowd that had gathered around them, his distinguished figure instantly drawing the crowd’s attention.

He spoke in a loud voice, “Many of you may be able to recognise me, but for those that don’t, I am Eitri Illugason, second son of the Illugi family.” This instantly caused quite a commotion amongst the crowd. Never would they have thought such a high ranking figure would attend this funeral. Though Ljós was from the Illugi family, she wasn’t from the main family but one of the side branches, and though warrior families were tightly knit, it wasn’t normal for someone so high up in the hierarchy to attend a funeral for a side branch member.

The crowd was silenced as soon as Eitri lifted a hand into the air, “We are gathered here today to remember the life of Ljós Illugadóttir, a great, cherished family member and loving wife…” The speech went on, with Eitri recounting Ljós’ life along with her accomplishments. Many started crying again, being reminded of just what kind of person she truly was.

“Finally, Ljós Illugadóttir will be forever immortalised onto the Illugi family gravestone as a memorial to the life she led. May her light always shine upon us.” As Eitri concluded the speech, he turned towards the coffin, got into a stable stance, and stretched his arms out towards. He lowered his hands slowly, and as he did so, the stone it was placed on and the coffin gradually sunk, almost as if the ground wasn’t solid. Once the coffin was entirely swallowed by the earth, Eitri went up to the menhir, placing a hand on it. A carving of Ljós was gradually formed, in battle with a sizeable bearlike creature with a duckbill for a mouth.

With the carving completed, Eitri turned towards the blonde woman, “Ronnow bring the infant forth. His father deserves to at least name him.” Smiðr had a confused look on his face at this moment. Seeing this, Ronnow decided to explain the situation.

“Your child did not perish along with your wife. The head housewife managed to pull him out just before she passed away. He was brought to us because she knew you would be in no state to take care of him. We will provide care for the child though you will be able allowed to raise him.” She placed the infant into Smiðr’s arms, and he took a look for the first time at his son.

The infant stared at him with large brown eyes giving off the feeling they were observing everything closely. There wasn’t much to look at, it was a newly born baby after all, but there was one thing that did stand out. His skin colour was brown. Everyone had fair skin, however, so this struck him as odd. Smiðr had no thought that this was not his son, that his wife had cheated on him because there wasn’t a single person with similarly coloured skin in the whole community. Someone like that would inevitably stick out like a sore thumb and be known by everyone.

Smiðr stopped scrutinising the child’s skin colour. Even if he was different, he was still his son. The more pressing matter was coming up with a name for the child that would remind him of his mother every time he heard it. After long deliberation, Smiðr finally spoke, tears threatening to flow forth. “Sǫlmundr. His name will be Sǫlmundr, may his mother watch over and protect him.” He gave Sǫlmundr a kiss on the head before handing him back to Ronnow.

Ronnow smiled at the child she held in her arms, who continued to stare at everything and everyone before saying, “It is a good name, Sǫlmundr. You can visit us whenever you want to see the child.” She then walked back beside Eitri, who gave her a nod and left, their entourage following closely behind.

Once they made their way out of sight, Fjǫrnir came up behind Smiðr and spoke, “You realise this was all an act right, they don’t care about Ljós or you, the only reason they even attended the funeral was to garner the public’s approval and support. Let alone taking your child and you being allowed to visit him whenever you want, we didn’t even know he was alive till right now!!!” Fjǫrnir was fuming, they had given the marriage between Smiðr and Ljós no blessing and only showed any interest in it once Ljós had gotten pregnant, probably intending to gain another bender into the Illugi family in the form of their child.

Once realising the child’s mother had died, they had immediately snatched him away, fully aware that Smiðr couldn’t do anything about it as a consequence of his position within the community and being a non-bender. They had stated that Smiðr would be able to visit him at any time, but he knew that was just a formality. They would fill the child’s head with their teachings, and before long, he wouldn’t even want to see his own father.

Smiðr smiled while gazing towards the sky, “It’s okay, my good friend. I know Ljós is looking over him, plus they will be able to provide for him much better than I ever could.” Fjǫrnir let out an exasperated sigh and shook his head before patting Smiðr on the shoulder. The crowd slowly dispersed before Smiðr and his group left the burial site, the sun shining brightly in the sky.

We went back along the route we took to the meadow filled with flowers and towering rocks. That ceremony we attended was most likely my mother’s funeral service. And the man I was given to was likely my father? Besides this, something truly astonishing occurred at the funeral. The capped man had somehow made his flow interact with the earth around the coffin allowing it to slowly sink in. The way the flow moved was similar to what I had observed others do while still in the womb, but now I could actually observe its effects first-hand. This needed to be investigated further to find out if I could do something similar.

The group walked along a dirt road; large trees flanked our sides while new shoots sprouted from their branches. The dirt path eventually led to a stone road we followed until stone structures could be seen on either side. There were various kinds, some having what looked like food and general supplies while others had weapons and materials.

People would move aside and give us the way wherever we went while offering greetings. Eventually, we made it to the residential area and walked towards a large residence, the largest of all those I had seen so far. It was elevated as well, with stone steps leading up to it. It overlooked all the others below it, and it was clear that these people were of a higher status than the rest.

As we ascended the stairs, I finally got a closer look at it and was blown away. It could only be described as a massive stone mansion. The house was multi-levelled, and while the walls were relatively short for a building of its size, the roof gradually slanted upwards to make up for it. It looked like multiple single-story houses were stacked on top of each other, culminating in a spire.

Intricate carvings were on display all over the walls and roof of the house. There was a stone sculpture of what I could only describe as a dragon’s head that overlooked the entrance. It felt like we were walking into the belly of the beast as we entered the house.

Imagine it bigger and made of stone.

The blonde woman carried me back to my room before placing me down in the cot then leaving. As the rays of the sun illuminated the room, alone, I only had one thought. ‘It seems this is my home now.’

Later that night.

A man was kneeling before a throne within a large stone room illuminated by the flickering candle lights. The walls were adorned with various skulls, trophies of different beasts that had been slain, which cast eerie shadows due to the illumination that flickered across them. A prominent figure sat atop the throne. Sickly green veins pulsed along the left side of his face, congregating at his left eye that glowed in a similar colour, only increasing the feeling of danger this man exuded.

“Is it done?” A hoarse voice broke the silence as the man on the throne spoke, he was aged and had a slight belly, but this did not take away from him. His muscled body formed an imposing image, paired with his many battle scars.

The man replied in a respectful tone, “Yes, father, we have taken responsibility for Ljós’ son.”

The father gave a grunt of approval, “Good, I heard your little performance at her funeral today went well with the masses.” He slowly rose from the throne, his figure casting a large shadow across the room, “Observe the infant, if he shows talent in bending then we will make him one of our own, if not give him back to his father, we don’t need to waste time on someone useless. That is all, Eitri.”

“Yes, father.” Eitri gave a slight bow before leaving the room. Once Eitri had left, he slowly walked to a side table. Papers with incoherent scribbling, half-open books, and writing utensils were messily strewn all over it while an aged piece of parchment lay at the centre. Inscribed on it were runic inscriptions and the depiction of a giant serpent chewing on the corpse of a man.

***************************************************************************************************

From below the dragon comes forth,

Flying from the depths of the underworld,

He bears on himself the corpses of men,

The Malice Striker emerges,

Now everything sinks.

***************************************************************************************************

As he read those words, a chill descended onto the room, his breaths forming a white mist as he exhaled. He looked out through the window, the sight of countless homes illuminated by the candles within.

“I hope you can save us from this ill fate…

inn svarti.”