This is the 22nd section of my novel. If you haven’t read the first 21, you might want to start here.
The Birth of an Aesir
—-
Minus wasn’t certain what day it was. He awoke in the midday sun to the cawing of a raven. Or, more accurately, two ravens. There was a small pool of sweat about ten feet below him, in the mud. His whole body hurt, and he had no doubt that he had several burst blood vessels on his head because he’d been upside down so long.
He took a deep breath. “One-Eye! Are you here? Or do I hear the carrion birds awaiting my death?”
Alacrity and synchronicity had become ideas of the past. Minus thought he had moved beyond these ideas. But he wasn’t really certain of anything.
“Two nights and three days. And you think you have found power? Do you think this is enlightenment? Do you think you are Aesir? You are none of these things, youngling. You are impatient. You have not seen magic.”
The old man didn’t look weary now. Not at all. He looked powerful and commanding. We looked like war incarnate.
He climbed the tree and sat on a branch just short of Minus’ head. He reached out to touch Minus’ limp arms. He took hold of both of Minus’ wrists, and Minus jerked in pain. There was a smell of burning flesh. The old man let go. Minus clenched his teeth with the pain and lifted his arms so he could see them.
The flesh on his arms was bright red and still smoking. He recognized some sigils of power and strength burned deeply into his skin.
“What is this, All-Father? What are you doing to me?”
But the old man had already took his leave, and the ravens with him. Minus hung on the tree feeling completely and utterly alone. He has never felt so lonely in his life. Or had he? Once before.. He wasn’t sure. He slipped back into unconsciousness.
—-
Jack
I Listen.
The Cost of Magic
Section #22
The Birth of an Aesir
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