I could have died but my point is definitely made: in the presence of Gullveig, I've shown her my ability in the simplest and most straightforward way. In all of Dagr's children, only his daughters ever bore fruit trying to use the magics of their mother. His first wife, Freyja, had bore his first five sons alone and all of them inherited either one or both of his domain magic of sea and land, yet failed to gain Freyja's gift of the war god's blessings. His second wife, Frigg, had three sons and four daughters but all of them save their eldest daughter were unable to summon the marsh flames she gained infamy for. And his third wife, Heimdallr's mother Rán, had five daughters and two sons with Heimdallr and two of his sisters set to eventually inherit her gifts.

In short, he would be the only one out of all her sons to obtain this gift naturally. In my writing, I had set up his youngest and only full-blooded brother, Bragi, to get this magic but at the cost of his life-long love being killed... but that never bore fruit in my actual story and took place far later in his life. Other brothers would find ways to eventually get their gifts, too, but their roles as antagonists were short-lived due to just how severe these acts would be on their health. One of these was Elgr: at the age of fourteen, in only a year, he would burn a year of his life to use his mother's magic against the gods' wishes just for the sole purpose of beating Heimdallr. It was the event that would make Heimdallr abandon his attempts to learn magic from Gullveig, but ultimately let him follow his father and become skilled enough to best Elgr without magic.

Given my own choice of trying to pursue magic over training, I will have to become strong enough to be able to stop him if that happens. Even if he's a generic bad guy in the story's purpose, the truth is that he's a tragic villain: his bullying is the byproduct of just how little his four older brothers cared for him in the story. Out of all of Freyja's children, he was born the youngest and the one with the least inheritance.

It's why I want to stop him: he's damaged from this large household treating him as less than his older brothers... and he can be stopped from destroying his future with someone who can stop his crash course.

I open my eyes and sit up slow, my dizziness still present even with my breathing restored. Gullveig kneels beside me, close enough that I can see the runes etched into her dress. Even if I can't read them due to my lack of magical power, I don't need to: they are spoken enchantments, made into physical form to make her garb no less protective than a suit of chainmail. No one save Dagr was more safe in the entire keep.

"Foolish brat," she whispers, setting her hand against my chest. She uses her magic to check my breathing once more, thankfully not hitting me with another pulse. "You really know no foolishness. Your mother was one of the Star Mages, but even she did not awaken her power so early. How could a boneheaded boy like you commune with a god at such a young age?"

It may be beneficial that I'm not young after all. In truth, I'd actually only be a decade or so older than the woman in front of me if I had combined both Heimdallr and my old life's age. Gullveig's title as Magician had been thanks to her defying conceptual ability to refuse the destiny of the world. She manipulated and twisted most of everything... including her own aging. Although she appears to be a woman in her late twenties, she's almost a century old by the later points of Heimdallr's book. Unlike most mages I wrote with her gift, she chose to keep herself as she was always: a fair-skinned woman with modest beauty and a simple figure. Her natural beauty as a mage had set her apart in the story, driving many foreign lords to constantly request Dagr marry her to their bloodlines.

But Heimdallr's father and I have one thing in common: we won't let anyone else take Gullveig's gifts.

"I just wanted to get strong like the Magician," I groan, feigning a bit of pain in my voice.

Gullveig's glower makes her beauty a lot less noticeable and her power far more intimidating. "You are a century too early to do that."

"But I-"

She sets her fingers over my mouth, quickly pulling them shut to stop me from talking.

"You are only ten, Heimdallr. Were it anyone else, what you just did would be a very dangerous undertaking... but for you, you may have hope. What little I know of your mother's magic means that you can grow even without using it. So if you truly wish to grow strong, you must heed my words now."

I nod, Gullveig quickly releasing her magical grasp on my voice and rising to her feet. She waits for me to stand before raising those same three fingers.

"Three rules are to be followed from now on, lest I inform Dagr that you are a danger to this house... understood?"

Once more, I nod. "Yes Magician, I understand! What are the rules?"

Even if I know, I have to play the part for her. The magician is at least pleased to see my reply, though, and finally melts the constant anger for the first time with the smallest edge of a grin.

"You at least listen better than your father. Firstly: you are not to use that magic you just used nor any other kinds unless I allow it. Even if it's some other type of magic, your body isn't strong enough to use it properly. You must reach the age of twelve before using it properly."

One finger falls down, two remaining. "Secondly: from now on, you are not to tell or disclose your ability to use magic to anyone. I will inform Dagr and your mother when the time is right, but this secret is not to be told elsewhere. If you do..."

She trails off and I can tell she wants me to finish it. Any kid might.

"You'll beat me and hang me by my toes?"

"Good. That's exactly right. And the third thing..."

Only one of her fingers remains upward, this time dropping down to point at herself above the cut of her dress' cleavage window. Although she points at herself, her smaller chest lets even the short Heimdallr see what she's really pointing at: her necklace.

"I will make one of these for you and you will pick it up tomorrow. You must always wear it... and, if you are serious, I will begin teaching you on your twelfth birthday. That is, of course, if you follow all my rules. Otherwise, you will be taken under your mother's wing and will never have the chance to learn from me. These three rules are a contract... and are expected to be followed by anyone with the ability to become my apprentice. If you agree-"

"I agree," i exclaim. I quickly bow my head. "If this Magician would have the ninth son of Dagr as her apprentice, then I would be a fool to not abide by her rules!"

Heimdallr never could have succeeded in these given how the story goes. He unlocks his magic much later and when all she demands is secrecy, but he tells his crush and ultimately reveals his secret. The necklace she gives him binds the apprentice to such contracts... and in the original story, it shatters when he breaks her condition. Gullveig tells him to learn from his father as a result and completely changes his fate.

But I won't lose out on this chance. Dagr's magic is something I can train, but her magic is something understanding alone may not be able to replicate. I am confident I can use her kinesis abilities, but those are the simplest form of her power: motion and force are the bare most basic principles of her magic, the most basic interactions with the universe.

Gullveig's Universal Magic had a great ceiling... but it was all the more reason I couldn't just attempt using it. If I failed, I could die in an instant.

If I succeeded, she would hunt me down for obtaining that level of power and ultimately undermining her secrets. The only way to obtain it is to do so as her apprentice. It also gives me one of the strongest magicians in Heimdallr's early life as a bodyguard, with only a handful of foes able to threaten me whilst she is nearby. Most of them are Mage Hunters... but in the story, Dagr or Heimdallr are able to best them to save Gullveig. They're too far off to think about while I'm only around ten years old.

With Gullveig willing to teach me, though, it does make me have a target on my back. It'll be all the more reason to secure better allies like Elgr who are Heimdallr's age. A few of Heimdallr's sisters would also be good fits... but ultimately I will have to find huskarl or oathsworn willing to serve Heimdallr. Most of the ones I can meet aren't in Dagr's Fall, but his family are all going to be excellent choices. All of his older brothers would be too difficult... but Heimdallr's younger brother is still too young.

The next best choice is to steal one of the future aides of Heimdallr's older brother who almost kills him in the inheritance arc, almost ten years before the two met in the story.

"Magician, I would like to make a request while you prepare the necklace: would you also make me one of the magic arrows Father uses?"

She raises a brow, but extends a hand over my own. "I do not know for what purpose you need one, given your lack of interest in the world outside Dagr's Fall... but very well. It will be an exchange as part of our agreement. Use it wisely... lest I come and beat you for putting me in trouble, brat."

"This apprentice will not use it poorly or in distaste," I grumble, watching the thin vein of crystal slowly materialize.

Magic arrows may sound dangerous, but they're actually a unique tool used in much of Dagr's Fall. Gullveig makes around fifty of them a month for various members of the hall and surrounding hold to use in emergencies or reports, but anyone can use them once made to send messages to someone else. It requires either a target location or a target person, but you have to have been there or met them to use it. In my case it's pretty useless but it's a good way to call Gullveig or Dagr to help me in an emergency. Most would think a child wants such a thing to talk to others... and indeed, Heimdallr uses them to communicate with various love interests and friends in the story.

I plan to use it for a slightly more intricate purpose.

The land Heimdallr grew up in and the central setting of the entire series I'd had planned for him is known as Dagr's Fall. It's specifically split into three zones, featuring its Hold, the City, and its surrounding rural lands. Their Norse inspiration left much of the dedication of the land towards hunting and pillaging, but the rural area was filled with hunters, gatherers, and even a handful of farmers. The sole benefitting factor for me is that unlike their inspiration, this land is dramatically warmer. Its low amount of fertile soil, however, had forced them to raid and trade ample amounts of steel and bodies. Most families sold one or two of their children away over the years to ensure their own prosperity... and this practice was actually most carried out in the City of Dagr's Fall.

Unlike the Hold which housed Dagr and his entourage's families and was reinforced into a bastion against attack, the City's rundown streets were packed full of merchants and those wanting to rise within Dagr's Fall. Homeless were normally driven out to the rural outside in the warmer months, but the colder ones often let them in at the expense of performing free labor for the city. It made for an unsanitary and desperate struggle for most, whilst generating undeniable wealth and labor for the mines and warehouses of their ports. Given it's the last month of summer, it'll be getting colder and inevitably bring many wanderers into the city to find shelter from the coming storms and chills.

And it's during this that I have to find Heimdallr's future foe before they meet his brother Borr and convince them to become my ally. In the book the only reason the two even became foes was due to the life-bond Borr made during the winter.

The pair of huskarls escorting me are minimal guard for a son of Dagr and hardly draw much attention toward me, instead earning dismissive murmurs from much of the townsfolk. Heimdallr's youth made it pointless to try and schmooze up to him, but it granted me an apt shield from the conmen that fill the town's mercantile ranks. My own attire isn't too different from all of theirs, though, and that's the true gift I need: the ability to disappear.

"I want to visit the smith," I chime with a smile. "Father will teach me to fight if I have a proper blade!"

"Of course, young lad."

The huskarl at my right was older and the one in charge, but it's him that gives Heimdallr the most room to commit his childish exploits. His partner, on the other hand, turns his chainmail-wrapped face towards the senior warrior with a click of his tongue.

"Geir, this must be your best jest yet; what would Dagr do if his second youngest son bought a sword? At best he will get nothing more than some shoddy work."

Geir rests his spear on his leather pauldron, crossing the other arm low to keep his carry able to respond to any sudden threats. It was the experienced carry that fit an experienced veteran like him.

"You worry too much Soini. Heimdallr is reaching a fine age to practice with a blade rather than those foolish twigs. Besides, perhaps he will choose a better weapon than a mere blade!"

In my book, Heimdallr takes up the spear and shield due to his enduring physique making a precise and powerful weapon like a spear and the defensive shield ideal. Getting into fights definitely doesn't feel much to my speed... but it's not as if I'm completely incapable of preparing. A sword is a basic weapon that most of the huskarl can help me learn, while a spear and other weapons are better saved for when I'll need them.

But it's all a farce to get me out of the hold anyway. Learning to fight is something I'm definitely going to put off as long as possible for my own safety as much as everyone involved in training me, especially since I'll have magic at my command when that time comes. These two are pretty common guards for Heimdallr... and all I need is a simple distraction that I'm nearing... right... now.

We turn the corner toward the smith and one of the town's two brothels comes into view. Geir has no reaction given his older age and self-control... but Soini flinches and stops.

"Wait, Geir, we can't go down this way! Heimdallr is still a boy!"

Geir slows and turns, raising a brow. It's one of the few things visible beneath all of his armor. "If he's still a boy, what harm is there in him walking past that harlot house? It's the fastest way, isn't it?"

"It may be," he groans, not noticing that I haven't stopped while he steps closer to Geir. "But what if one of the girls approaches us?"

"We'll tell them to leave us be and carry on!"

I turn another corner into a nearby alleyway, looking up at the many signs trailing down the street until I spot one that stands out: a green elephant.

"But what if they try to force themselves on me or the ninth son!?"

Their voices drift further as I approach the door beneath the sign, reaching up and pushing it open despite my smaller stature. As it swings open, the scent of death and misery swamps over and past me. It takes a lot to not gag... but I know what I have to do and step into the dark and unlit room.

"Fool, you think too much! Besides, he-... wait, where is he!?"

I shut the door behind me. With their voices muffled beyond comprehension, I reach to my hip in the darkness and grab the child's lantern. Its oils aren't too hot to ensure it doesn't harm me, but a quick twist of the ignition bead and oil release lets it illuminate the interior.

The large room is hard to make out much in but the tell-tale sign of tavern tables and empty chairs ensures me that this is the Verdant Elephant: the most prominent tavern in Dagr's Fall five years from now. In the future it will be the place that Borr goes to often to drink... but in the current year it is still on decline after the loss of its original master, Nakaros. A foreigner like him had made this place quite busy before he passed from old age, yet now it lacked the soul or drinks he produced and gave it its iconic spin.

In this age, it was closed down after his son died to debt collectors. He was murdered in front of the few patrons left and his body hacked up and strewn all around the room. Most of the witnesses died in the following chaos and clean-up, save for the one who cleaned it up and became a scavenger in the now-abandoned tavern and alleyways near here. A person who had nothing left save for Nakaros' journal and the legacy of his bloodline.

"It's okay," I say into the darkness around me, smiling and reaching down to my waist. I unfasten the magic arrow from its loop and hold it out. "I came to be your friend! I'm Heimdallr and this will let you call your mother to you!"

No answer comes. I'm not sure how long it'll take for the duo to find me but I can't just waste time. I step deeper into the room and raise my lantern higher to cast its light slightly further.

"Please, you can trust me! On my name as Dagrsson, I will help you get revenge for your father and grandfather, too! What happened to them isn't right!"

The darkness doesn't answer back still, forcing me to squint my eyes.

And as I do, I see a hand almost twice the size of mine reach out and clasp the arrow. A mottled head of black hair appears... easily just as large in comparison. Despite looking no older than me, the figure emerging from the darkness was slightly larger than an adult human. And the look of her glimmering gold eyes was that of someone seeing something, truly seeing something, for the first time without fear. Instead it's a look of anguish and bottled-up rage trying to fight back all the years of terror she endured.

"Who... are you... again?"

Her words are powerful even if her voice itself is soft. The simple act of breathing carries so much strength because of her heritage. Before me was the most dangerous opponent Heimdallr faced in his youth and would eventually die trying to carry out her bond with Borr.

"I am Heimdallr," I reply, gently releasing it. "And I want to be friends. But to do that, I need your name. Could you tell me?"

She pulls it closer to her rag-wrapped chest, the child giantess biting her lower lip in uncertainty. I don't blame her given her circumstances and harsh survival. I quickly offer her my lantern, seeing more of her scarred arms in the process. All wounds she suffered when the debt collectors tried to kill her. Little did they know a giant could endure far more than even Heimdallr when it came to pain... even if it was only a half-giant like her.

"Gefjon," she finally answers and pulls back. "But... you may call me Gef... friend Heimdallr."