Compared to the earliest years of my time in the Hold, things are much quieter now. The only men of my family still here are myself and my younger brother usually, but the majority of my sisters remained in pursuits of their magical studies under our mothers. Out of everyone, after all, I was the only one who had garnered the attention of Gullveig. My studies of my mother's birth magic were purely that: reading records and explainations she wrote for Gullveig, allowing me to keep a singular teacher at the cost of progress.

Not that I needed it, though: my understanding of her magic from the book had allowed me to form my pact with Svalinn far ahead of time. Since then, my God's Vessel was accumulating power overtime and the magic Gullveig taught me helped strengthen it. I can't imagine what it physically means on an organ that I never fully explained, but it feels like my breath is calmer year-after-year and with each thing I master or learn. It's why it felt stifling to finally be stopped with my current lack of progression more so than usual.

I pass through the mostly empty halls and finally reach Gullveig's room, knocking a single time.

"Master, it's Heimdallr."

I no longer felt weird saying my new life's name. Perhaps it was just how long I'd been adapting to this new body and chance at life... or it had something to do with the magic that brought me to life impacting my mind. Either way, it made things leagues easier when talking or doing anything to not have that moment of misunderstanding.

"Come in," she calls out.

I push one of the large doors open, remembering just how many times I struggled with it in my younger years. The familiar scent of ink and old parchment made me feel like I was back in my old life during my school days. At the center was the familiar sight of the most beautiful mage in the Hold, still remarkably the exact-same as she was when I met her. Now, in fact, it looked like she was still no more than ten years older than me after all my growth. She always looked like she was in her late twenties, after all.

However, one thing had deviated from the book: her first sign of mental aging. Originally it was planned to be after Heimdallr rose to throne, but she would inevitably lose her self-control for a moment and her hair would gain a streak of silver.

She already had a few streaks of silver from all of my surprising growth over the years. I'd learned the best way to avoid shocking her after the fourth time, but even now I could count seven streaks. The first five had been from my magical growth and progress in her own magic... but the last two came when I was unable to surpass my barrier suddenly and my shift of focus back onto sparring. Gullveig never expected a prodigal student to not only meet inability to grow, but she certainly didn't think I would shift my focus to Gungnir over the last few months. I still visited her and did my training twice a week, but she didn't even attempt to stop me when I wanted to go spar with the huskarl.

"You're late," she grumbles. She doesn't even look up from the scroll in her hands. "Sit."

I nod, quickly moving to the nearby chair. "Sorry Master, I lost myself in thought while getting ready today."

She raises her head and looks at me. There's no hint of emotion in anyway, simply staring at me.

"You? Losing yourself in thought? Over what? Aren't you just another meatheaded child of Lord Dagr?"

I deserved that. Being late was one thing, but she no doubt wasn't happy that I wanted to shift my training focus despite being her apprentice. I was lucky she didn't completely cast me aside after the last few months already, but angering her any further would be pointless. I can't risk souring the air and putting us on bad terms when I make my request.

Time to be honest.

"This meatheaded child felt something about his stopgap," I start, finally sitting down in the chair but keeping myself angled towards her. "And if I were to ignore those thoughts, I felt it would have only further put me away from my goal."

Gullveig's face softens at the words I use; after all, she had learned to gleam truth from me after so long, so she knew I wasn't entirely telling a lie. She turns her attention back to the scroll.

"I see... and what was it you thought of, student?"

"I thought that I... am wasting my time."

These words make her freeze; I see her hair sway as she buries her surprise and narrowly avoids another streak. It was a shock but not one so bad she couldn't expect it.

Gullveig knows what I came here to tell her.

"You know?"

She tries to ignore me and even gets up, moving away from the table and me to fully hide her facial features.

"Of course," she states. "Masters must be able to read their students properly to guide them. I'd be foolish if I didn't notice your mind drifting to thoughts of leaving the Hold. But... it's for that reason I must oppose your idea."

I had seen this coming. I didn't think she would know ahead of time, but being resistant to the idea was only natural. Her magic was dangerous and the pursuit of learning it was something she felt obligated to oversee. Not even mentioning my mother's magic and its side-effects, there was even further the fact that I'm similar to royalty; the dangers presented to someone like me while adventuring was high, especially once all of my talents are taken into the equation.

"Master, if I don't leave the Hold at some point, how can I grow? An heir of Dagr must have followers to take part in the battle for inheritance, so-"

"No. I will not change my mind. You will not leave until you master my magic."

"Master, this isn't-"

"No!"

She shouts so loud it echoes through the room, making me hesitate and remain silent. Although I can't see her face, the tone she has is nothing but anger and sadness. This isn't the collected and calm Gullveig I knew... but rather, this is how she acts around Dagr when their flashbacks take place. The atmosphere between the two back then had been one of Dagr being his usual self... but Gullveig was still trying to find a way to live a normal life. Gullveig may not show her face to me, but it's obvious that she sees me as Dagr right now.

Or, more precisely, she's feeling the old embers of her crush on Dagr towards me.

If it's genuine or just her mistaking the close friendship we built over the years as the same thing, it ultimately doesn't matter; regardless of how she feels, this is the only way for me to go out and find allies. Navigating a woman who has the ability to keep me here legally isn't going to be easy, much less so if she really wants to keep me here for her own emotional reasons.

Gullveig turns to finally face me, her steeled look ensuring she had her emotions back under control.

"Heimdallr, you aren't like your brothers and sisters. I have never seen someone able to grasp conceptual magic so quickly, especially when they awaken a God's Vessel. Compounding that with it being my conceptual magic, you are far more intelligent than anyone I have ever met. In time... your intelligence and knowledge will no doubt surpass even mine. If you leave now, you will only take on unnecessary risk. You may be tough, but you never received instruction from Dagr on how to use your body's gifts. What would happen if someone beat you and took you from us?"

It's almost identical to the conversation she had with my father, albeit it solely focused on his power and uncanny control of his worldly magic instead of my conceptual magic.

"... Then I would be beaten and taken."

My words make her seem relieved, but that quickly disappears as I smile.

"Of course, I won't be beaten that easily. You mention how intelligent I am and how skilled I've become... but my real strength has always been my maturity. You know I wouldn't ever put myself into a position that'd endanger me, yet you act as if I can't handle it if I do. Who was it that I learned from all these years if not the greatest mage, the Magician herself, over all these years?"

I stand up, moving over to my master and kneeling in front of her. She clenches her hands into fists, staring down at me.

"You're not ready," she refutes without supporting it further.

"No one ever is. All I ask is that I go with the approval of my Master rather than in the midst of night without anyone knowing of my intentions."

The room feels thick with her magical power leaking out amidst her growing anger. She likely knew I was already planning ways to sneak out, too, so just mentioning it was enough to remind her of just how skilled I was. Even if I personally had no intention of ruining my relationship like that, the importance of leaving the hold meant I couldn't rule out all of my options either.

"Where will you go?"

This time, I know I can answer her well. I set my hand over my chest, meeting her eyes in the cultural sign of pledging with one's life in the hold.

"I plan to find a friend from years ago. Whether or not I find her, I will go to the east afterwards and help my brother Elgr with getting his revenge. I intend to use it as a chance to test my abilities and begin my preparations for rising to the position of heir."

Elgr had yet to leave and the window for getting him on my side was shortening. Although besting him wouldn't be a challenge with Gungnir, I want to avoid killing or distancing myself from my family. A more unified family after the Inheritance War would better prepare us for the threats that would come later. Elgr was, however, already almost on the level of Soini and the weaker huskarl; getting him to join me now would effectively double my manpower and similarly bring his reputation along with us.

Unlike my siblings, I hadn't built a nickname of repute yet. Gullveig, for example, was known as the Magician. Elgr even had a name, too: Born With Knives. His reputation as a fighter with two shortswords or even daggers had made it so many would follow or avoid confronting him simply to avoid that. Without a nickname of repute, my chances of winning the Inheritance War become drastically smaller. In the books, the nickname given to Heimdallr at the start was Thick Skin... but it kept changing overtime as his ability to fight became better.

In this life, the closest I had was likely to become the Magician's Apprentice. Gungnir was a powerful weapon, but it wasn't as if I was allowed to fight any meaningful battles. The huskarl also wouldn't repeat the training sessions to those outside our home to avoid giving enemies any ideas on how to best us. Nicknames, after all, became means to learn of an enemy's weakness; it was his nickname that got Elgr bested, after all, and got him injured.

"... Will you use magic?"

"Not if I do not have to."

Gullveig's face showed how defeated she felt trying to weaken my plans. "If you get hurt-"

"I will flee," I interrupt. "I will escape as fast as possible and return so you can scold me as much as you want."

Gullveig scoffs, finally releasing her clenched hands.

"Foolish boy... you would run if you simply got hurt? It would do better if you exacted your own revenge on them. Running should be reserved for when you cannot win."

Although it's apparent she doesn't want me to leave, Gullveig's knowledge of my growth over the years and my plans being so apparent are obviously breaking down her resistance. She has taken a lot of time trying to improve my abilities, too, so she could use a break to try and catch up on work and relax. Although she didn't want to admit it, even if I did nothing with my adventure it would still give her a chance to relax-

Gullveig kneels down face-to-face with me, putting her hands on my shoulders and pulling me into a completely unexpected hug. My cheeks turn bright red and I panic-move my hands outward to avoid touching her. It was the first intimate type of contact the two of us had over all these years.

"Heimdallr," she whispers, pulling me closer and setting her breasts against me without concern for how it might seem. It was a weirdly intimate grasp that was from years of her ineptitude interacting with others. "I will allow it. But you must not forget your way home. You... are my only apprentice. If Dagr and I had a child... I..."

So this is why it felt so familiar: it's not due to her thinking of me as Dagr, but as the child she wanted with him. The younger Gullveig had been unable to get him to think of her that way, but it never stopped her from imagining herself as his first wife for those first decades together.

My master is showing me a side extremely... vulnerable for someone who was over a century old. Gullveig never had children in the books due to how it would require her body's aging to function normally again... but mainly because she had only found one man worthy of having kids with and he refused her. And here she was, exposing that she wished I had been her son.

As awkward and unexpected as it was, I can't help but feel humbled. This woman who was known as the cold-hearted Magician saw me as family in her own unique way.

"M-Master," I finally stammer out, finally moving my hands to pat her upper back. "I understand your feelings, but... isn't this too much?"

She doesn't reply and instead squeezes tighter. I can't do anything at this point but wait until she's content. All I know is this is her form of saying farewell, so once she lets go I can safely leave without worrying that it will make things difficult between us. I still had to deal with Elgr and the preparations to leave, but the first part of my plan today was successful.