This is the continuation of an older story, you can read the old one here: July 21: The Light
It was mid-May before the land showed signs of spring and the sun brought warmth again. Nature seemed to take a sigh of relief as the snow melted. The Tótason family felt that life was getting easier again since they had survived the winter. Nóri had picked up the habit of going on long walks into the forest with her bow after her chores were done. Her father hated the idea of it, but he knew it was important for her to understand how to live in the forest alone. One afternoon she left after helping Marísa make lunch for the kids.
“Nóri, you need to keep your Moose from wrecking his fence,” Morgan said as she walked by, attempting to repair it.
“He can’t help it,” she said, “his antlers are growing in and he feels them itch.”
“Whatever the case is,” he said, taking his tools inside, “you’re fixing it next time.”
“I promise,” she said, “I’ll see you tonight.”
Nóri turned north into the forest, sticking close to the trees to stay out of the wet snow. She had an arrow notched in her bow already, just in case. She hadn’t seen anything of the creatures she fought last winter, which she and her family now call the Myrkur.
She wandered through a small wooded valley before taking a break to gather some small brown mushrooms which grew at the base of a nearby tree. It was a rare find, especially for how early it was in the season.
The sound of a branch snapping alerted her, but she did not move. She notched her arrow again, determining how far away the noise was before bolting upright and aiming her bow.
Out from behind a tree; a little girl peeked.
“Noomi?” Nóri said to her little sister, “What are you doing out here?”
“I wanted to see where you go every day,” she said as Nóri put her bow down, “are you practicing your magic?”
She said that word with all the wonder a kid can have. Nóri’s siblings weren’t supposed to know she had her abilities, but it’s hard to hide a secret from your family when you live in a small cabin in the woods together.
“Don’t call it that,” Nóri said, “and it’s not safe for you to be out here.”
Noomi hugged her knees, “can I see just a little please?”
Nóri sighed, realizing that she hardly ever spends time with her siblings one-on-one.
“Okay, I’ll show you a little bit but I’m taking you straight home after, okay?” She said, “Before Mother starts to worry.”
“Okay.”
Nóri led her up a hill that offered a view of the valley. A small column of smoke pinpointed the cabin and the glint of the town’s church steeple could be seen in the valley beyond. In the clearing, a large stone stood. Lichen covered all but the front, where it was chipped.
“Alright, stay behind me, Noomi.” She said, raising her hand out towards the boulder, using her other arm to stabilize it.
She took a deep breath and focused on the rock’s bare patch, imagining she was holding a bow instead. Every detail of the stone grew and the world around her melted away.
Release…
A flash of light, barely visible in the daytime, shot out from her hand and struck the boulder. When the snow cleared another piece had been chipped.
Noomi squealed in excitement, “Again! Again!”
“No, Noomi, we have to get you home,” Nóri said.
When they got to the cabin, the sun was beginning to set.
The doors burst open before they could knock.
“Noomi,” Marísa said, jumping out to hug her, “where did you go?”
“We’re sorry, Mother,” Nóri said, “She came out to join me for my hike.”
“You could have at least left a note, you wretched child,” She said with only love and relief, still hugging her.
When they got inside, the table was already set, with Morgan sitting silently at the end and a pile of fish in the center. Her other siblings were already fighting over who gets the biggest.
Nóri and Noomi sat together as their mother joined them. One of the boys turned to Noomi.
“Did you run off again, Noomi?” He said, “Did one of your imaginary friends get lost?”
“Shut up, Elias,” she said with all the fury she could muster.
“He’s just jealous you got to skip out on sweeping,” the older boy said, peeling the skin off his fish, “So he had to instead.”
“Well I didn’t see you do any chores,” Elias mumbled, “Just going off into the woods with Dad.”
“Liam’s starting to learn how to hunt, just like Nóri,” Marísa said, “You should be careful what you say because pretty soon he’ll be filling your plate.”
“I wanna hunt,” Elias said, toying with his food.
“You’ll get your chance, Elias,” a girl with glittering eyes said.
After dinner, the kids got in their night clothes.
“Nóri, can I have the one by the window?” Noomi asked as they chose their bunks.
“Sure, if your brothers are okay with it.”
Elias shrugged, “That one gets too cold anyway.”
Nóri chose the bed across from Noomi and pulled the furs over her head. After the candles were put out and the kids began to fall asleep, Noomi looked over to see Nóri was still awake.
“Thanks for letting me see your magic,” She whispered.
“Shhh,” Nóri said, “that’s going to be our little secret, you and me okay?”
Noomi smiled, “You and me.”
Nóri woke to several sounds at once. Sounds of crashing, screaming, and slithering filled the once-quiet cabin as she tried to get up and understand what was happening. When she looked up, she saw the remains of the window spread across the floor with Morgan standing above Noomi’s empty bed with a blood-soaked hatchet, breathing heavily.
“Dad?” She asked.
He took a deep breath and shuddered, “Get me my damn shotgun.”
He sprang into action, storming to the front and loading his bags. All the kids stood frozen as Marísa approached Morgan and gently whispered to him.
Like a beast being tamed, Morgan relaxed. He seemed smaller.
“Nóri,” he said, kneeling in front of her, “I don’t want you to come, but–”
“I’ll get her, Dad,” Nóri said, “I’ll bring her home.”
He nodded and smiled with thick tears in his eyes.
Liam stepped up, “Me too, Dad.”
“No Liam,” he said, “you’re not ready. You must stay here and hunt for your siblings.”
“But–”
“Son,” He said, grabbing his shoulders, “a man helps where he is needed. Not for glory or heroism, but for the joy of protecting those he loves. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Let’s go, Nóri,” He said, standing up, “and take your moose, maybe he’ll come in handy.”
They packed tents, snowshoes, and some food. They fashioned a simple saddle for the moose and attached the extra bags. He snorted and groaned.
“I know, Buddy,” Nóri said, “It’ll take some getting used to.”
They led Buddy out of the corral.
“It was Myrkur, wasn’t it?” she asked.
“I don’t know. It was big, and I cut one of its… “ he paused, thinking of a proper word, “limbs I think.”
“It must have a blood trail, then.” She said, “Let’s find it.”
They led the moose to the other side of the house and found large drag marks coming from the window. Thick, tar-like blood made steaming holes in the snow. In the early morning light, they could see the trail wander beyond the next hill.
“It’s going into the mountains in the north,” Morgan said and looked back at the broken window, “we better get moving.”
They followed the trail into the forest. It didn’t take long before Nóri had passed the furthest point she had traveled on her own and the sun had risen far into the sky. She sensed Buddy’s anxiety as he pushed through the snow on a sudden journey longer than anything he’d been on since he was born. The woods became thicker as the slope grew steeper.
They kept their path under the trees to keep out of the snow as much as possible. Nóri began to sweat under her jacket as Morgan pushed forward, still carrying his shotgun.
“Dad,” Nóri said, adjusting the strap on her quiver, “we should take a quick break. We’ll burn out if we keep going at this pace.”
He remained silent as he trudged on.
He sighed, “Let’s at least make it to the top.”
Before long, the forest opened up into a large, flat meadow. It was empty except for a small shack and a few boulders. Morgan sighed and set his shotgun in the holster attached to Buddy.
“I’ll get the food out for us,” He said, “find some grass for Buddy, but don’t go too far.”
As he rummaged through the bags, Nóri went for the shack. By some of the boulders, blades of long, yellow grass stuck out.
As she collected them, she neared the shed, wondering what it had been used for. Perhaps it was storage for long hunting trips or a prospector’s cabin, but it looked largely abandoned. Holes in the roof from past storms allowed snow to pile in and rot it from the inside. She pushed open the door which barely hung onto its hinges. At the movement, snow sprinkled from the gaps in the roof.
She notched an arrow and kept it taught as she crept in. The room was full of old saddles, broken farm tools, and rusted traps. Most of what had been useful was already taken.
A floorboard creaked in the corner and she drew her bow, feeling the adrenaline snap her into focus. All she saw was a large wooden mannequin with rusted joints sitting against the far wall. She stepped closer, still convinced she heard something.
The mannequin jerked suddenly and a strange dark substance wrapped itself around its head. With a gurgle, the substance split open and revealed a row of human teeth. The mouth coughed and cackled as the mannequin stood up with a creak.
“Nooori,” It said, stumbling forward, each garbled word becoming more clear, “What a beautiful name. Nóri.”
She let the arrow fly, cracking the wood of the mannequin’s chest.
It cackled, “Why didn’t you use your power, Nóri? You must be getting stronger; why use human weapons?”
“Shut up,” She said, shooting another arrow, this time forcing it to take a step back.
“Come play in the mountains with me, Nóri,” It said, its mouth creased into a grin, “I can’t wait to show you what I can do. I’ve gotten so much stronger.”
“I said shut up.” She said, and with a flash of light, the mannequin crashed through the shed’s wall, scattering wood and dust across the snow.
Her vision wobbled as she struggled to stay upright, reeling from using her power.
“Nóri?” Morgan said as he pushed through the door and steadied her, “What happened?”
“It was a Myrkur,” she said, looking at the mannequin, “I think.”
They went out to examine it as black liquid oozed out of its mouth and its mouth seemed to melt away from the wood.
“It looks like it wanted to send you a message,” He said, “What did it say?”
“Nothing important.”
“Well we should get moving,” He said, looking uneasily at the clouds, “A storm’s coming soon.”
They found some horse cakes in the shed and fed them to Buddy. They continued following the trail that continued winding into the mountains. The meadow was in a small valley that ended in a mountain pass.
But it started to snow.
It started as a flurry of large snowflakes, then the wind began to pick up.
“We’d better hurry,” Morgan said, “we don’t want to lose the trail.”
They got some thicker clothes and snowshoes from Buddy’s saddle, but the snowshoes did little to help since the snow was too soft.
When the blizzard was at full force, Morgan growled, “We should find some tree cover soon, before we get buried.”
Buddy walked on Nóri’s other side, upwind from her to block the onslaught of snow.
“Thanks, Buddy,” She said, patting him on the neck, “We’ll get you back home soon.”
“I see something up ahead,” Morgan said, staring into the white haze. He pulled out his shotgun.
“I can’t see anything,” Nóri said but began to see a distant glow.
“Is someone there?” A muffled voice ahead said.
“Shh” Morgan said, crouching down and motioning for Nóri to do the same.
The glow became brighter and a silhouette of a man came into view.
“Morgan is that you?” He said, “Why in hell are you out here with a shotgun and a moose?”
“Einar?” Morgan said, “I figured I’d run into you at some point.”
The old man chuckled, stepping into view, “You know me, I’m always around.”
The man had a beard caked in snow and a fur hat that covered his eyes. He held an ancient lantern, the source of the glow. On his back was a large bag with a hunting rifle sticking out.
“Well as much as I would love to stand and chit-chat in the snow,” He said, “We should head back to my cabin and warm up.”
Morgan hesitated for a moment, but it was clear that they would only risk being lost in the blizzard. Einar led them through the snow and before long, trees began to emerge from the white.
Nóri wasn’t sure how he was able to navigate without being able to see much of anything but didn’t question it.
The cabin came into view, the warm glow from the porch lighting up the snow.
“Well here you have it,” He said, “Morgan, you go on in and warm yourself. I’ll take your kid and show the moose where the barn is.”
“Thanks, Einar.” He said.
As the man lead Nóri and Buddy behind the cabin, she wondered who the man is. It’s clear that her father trusts him enough to leave her alone with him.
“What’s your name, kid?” He said.
“Nóri,” She said.
“Now why’s a young girl like you got a moose following you around?” He said, “ I can tell he likes ya.”
“His name is Buddy and we found him while we were hunting.”
He nodded, “He thinks you’re his momma.”
They got to the barn and he opened the door. A horse snorted a greeting and Nóri led Buddy into the stall next to it.
“Looks like they’re friends already,” He said, “His name is Vindur.”
Nóri gave a hay cake to each of them. She heard a whine from the corner and looked to see a husky with a face peppered with gray hair approaching her.
“Ah, and that’s Fenrir,” He said as Nóri knelt, “He may be as old as I am.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve met a dog,” she said, holding his chin and rubbing his head. His tail shook lightly.
They went back to the cabin and Nóri shook the snow off her furs on the porch but Einar went straight through the door. She followed and inside there was a large living room with animal heads littering the walls and furs covering the ground. It looked messy yet cozy. Morgan sat in a cushioned chair, leaning forward and staring into the fire, across from him Einar sat, taking off his coat and spilling snow onto the chair. Nóri came and sat on the couch across from the fire.
“Morgan?” Einar said, lighting a pipe, “You wanna tell me why the blazes you’re all the way out here?”
“Hunting.”
“Bullshit,” He said, “You would never take one of your kids so far past your territory in the dead of night.”
“How do you two know each other?” Nóri asked, attempting to de-escalate.
“I’ve run into him a couple times while hunting,” Morgan said.
Einar took off his hat, revealing a head of thin gray hair and pale eyes, “Yeah, he’s bought some of my best furs.”
“Are you… blind?” Nori asked.
“Hehe aye,” He said, grinning with an incomplete set of teeth. “I can see just fine, though. Even better than most.”
“Einar’s a mystic of sorts,” Morgan sighed, “like a medicine man. Nothing he does makes sense.”
“Something tells me you’re something of the sort too, Nori,” He said, winking.
Morgan glared at Einar.
“Hey, who do you think I would tell?” He said, raising his hands defensively, “The birds? Hehehe.”
“You know what I am?” Nóri asked excitedly.
“No,” he said, “I just know you got the gift.”
Morgan sighed, “She’s what you’d call a Sun Child, born under an eclipse.”
Einar’s eyes widened, “By Odin’s beard!”
“Yes, and the Moon Child, who we call the Myrkur, took one of my kids,” Morgan said, looking old and tired, “We came to track it down.”
“My! I understand your haste now,” Einar said, leaning back and stroking his beard, “I hope I can help in some way.”
“You’ve done enough already,” Morgan said, “We’ll go out and kill it tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Einar said.
“Why not?” Morgan said, “I’ve wounded it already.”
“From what I know,” He said, “It’s likely that killing the Moon Child will also kill the Sun Child.”
“How do you know this?” Morgan said, “How can you be sure?”
He shrugged, “I’ve picked up a lot of reading material over time and much of the older stuff mentions this. Old civilizations known to put special significance over the sun and moon write prophecies about children born during an eclipse. Some are similar enough for me to find consistency across many accounts. One consistency mentions that the moon and sun child are bound to die together. Can’t be totally sure, but I don’t think you’d want to risk it.”
“Did you say prophecy?” Nóri asked, “I thought what I had was a curse.”
Einar nodded, “Prophecies can look like curses, kid, but a curse has to be cast by someone and can be broken. Prophecies are only recordings of future events. Sadly, what’s happened to you is just a supernatural occurrence.”
“Could the prophecy be a recording of a curse?”
“Well I suppose it could,” He said, “But in your case, it would have to have been done a long time ago by someone very powerful.”
“We’re losing track,” Morgan said, “If we can’t kill it, what do we do?”
Einar grinned, “Follow me.”
He led them to a room in the back of the cabin. The walls were lined with bookshelves and the large table in the center was piled with maps, scrolls, and other items. He knelt before a chest in the corner and opened it.
“I apologize for the mess,” He said, rifling through the items in the chest, “I don’t usually show folks this part of the house.”
After a few minutes of searching through jars, daggers, and scrolls, he pulled out a leather pouch. From it, he handed Nóri a white, glassy stone.
“These are Solites,” He said, “They’re known for having mystical properties.”
In Nóri’s hand, it felt as light as air, and when she held it up to the light, it shone brightly.
“They should harm the Moon Child,” Einar said, “But they won’t kill.”
Morgan picked one up and frowned, “You want us to fight a monster with rocks?”
“How do we use them?” Nóri asked.
“Hehe, the same way you use any rock I suppose,” Einar said, “You can throw them or swing them. Even the sight of one should hurt the moon child. I know it lacks the elegance of any weapon, but they seem to work just as you would need them.”
“Thanks, Einar,” Morgan said, “Anything helps.”
“Anyhow,” He said, shutting the chest and handing Nóri the sack, “I bet you’re hungry, I’ll make a quick stew and get your beds ready.”
Einar didn’t have a guest bedroom, so Morgan insisted on giving Nóri the couch while he would sleep on the floor. Einar gave him as many furs and pelts as he needed,
“I’m okay, really,” He said, “I’m used to sleeping on the ground.”
After eating, Nóri lay on the couch, setting her bow and quiver on the ground below her. She slept in her boots and jacket, too tired and anxious to take them off. Sleep did not find her until late at night because she was afraid of tomorrow.
The next day, they woke up before sunrise. Morgan got their stuff together while Nóri went out to feed Buddy and pet Fenrir one more time. He greeted her with one tired lick before returning to his kennel. Buddy seemed to be in a better mood since yesterday. Groaning in greeting as she led him out.
On the front porch, Einar stood talking to Morgan.
“Are you ready?” He said to Nóri.
“I suppose.”
“Nóri,” Einar said, walking down the steps and looking her in the eyes, “Your abilities are a part of something much greater than you realize and the Moon Child will be a part of you until the end. It will get stronger as you get stronger. You need to find a way to live with that.”
They left as the sun began to rise, heading toward the mountains. Finding the trail was much harder since the snowstorm covered the monster’s tracks. Morgan squinted up at the trees, searching for broken branches or other signs. There were still small pits in the snow where the creature bled.
“It should have stopped bleeding ages ago,” He said, “It wants us to follow.”
Fog began to cover their path while the sun was still low. Trees became less frequent. Rocks and boulders began to stick out from the snow.
“I’ve heard stories,” Morgan began, “Of places where witches went to the mountains to practice their magic.”
Some boulders looked like pillars and spikes as they emerged from the fog.
“Hunters nearby would hear the howls of wolves,” He said, “only they didn’t sound right, they were pitchy and kept people awake at night. Sometimes they didn’t sound like wolves at all.”
“Dad,” Nóri said, “why are you telling me this?”
“I visited one once and the feeling it gave me,” He said, “Was very similar to this.”
The trail led them down into a small valley. Buddy began pulling on the reigns, groaning.
“Shh,” She said, notching an arrow, “I think we’re close.”
“Leave Buddy here,” Morgan said, “he’ll find you once we get back.”
Nóri dropped the reigns and went down toward the valley, Buddy snorted and bucked a little in protest.
As they descended, the fog became unnaturally thick. Morgan loaded extra shells and tied an axe to his waist.
A scream echoed through the valley and Nóri darted deeper into the fog.
“Nóri, wait,” Morgan called before she disappeared from sight. He ran to follow her before something knocked him to the ground.
“Noomi,” Nóri called. The shadow of the mountain blocked the sun and the fog grew more threatening.
In the clearing, eight pillars of stone surrounded the body of a young girl, and beyond a large figure loomed.
“Noomi!” she said, running to her. Noomi was lying on a large stone, staring into the sky with ink-filled eyes. Her veins were thick black cords and her breath shuddered.
“FAMILY,” A wheezing voice boomed, and Nóri was hit with a dark limb, knocking her and her bow away, “FAMILY FAMILY FAMILY.”
The cackling monster stepped into view with large spiny pillars for legs. From its neck, large tentacles dragged through the snow, hanging beneath fierce mandibles that snapped as it spoke.
“When will Nóri learn?” It said, and with a stomp, crushed her bow, “When will she learn what I learned?”
As Nóri scrambled away, it reached out with a tentacle that extended a claw, dripping with black ink.
Before it could touch her, many of its tentacles exploded. It shrieked and stumbled back, snapping its jaw in anger.
“Get away,” Morgan said, stumbling toward it with his shotgun held limply in his hands. His veins were dark streaks and a hole pierced his coat, “Get…”
He coughed and dropped to his knees, “Nóri…”
The monster stalked toward him with pleasure and malice.
“Leave him alone!” Nóri took one of the stones and threw it at the monster. The rock flashed as soon as it left the bag and burned as it touched its skin.
When her vision returned, the monster was gone.
“Nóri’s family is hurt,” It said with a quiver of anger, “But she still uses her rocks and arrows. When will she use her power? She should play with her brother for real.”
Runes on the pillars appeared and blue fire ignited the top of each.
“Soon Nóri will HAVE to play.” It said, charging out of the fog, seizing her by the neck, and pinning her against a boulder. Tendrils tightened around her neck and she felt pressure in her head, “PLAY PLAY PLAY–”
“Why?” She said, “Why do you have to hurt my family?”
It paused, glaring at her with dark eyes before choking her more.
As her vision began to fade, she was suddenly plunged into the snow, when she got up, she saw Buddy with black blood on his antlers. The monster lay on a pile of stones from a collapsed pillar. The blue fire was extinguished with a spray of sparks.
“No no,” It said standing up, “We play ALONE.”
Buddy ran towards Nóri and scooped her up with his antlers. She clung to the saddle. He picked up speed as soon as she was on. He charged to the valley’s exit.
“No, Buddy,” she said, “ We have to save them.”
He groaned and circled around, charging back into the fog. Nóri steadied herself on his back, grabbing another solite.
Buddy bolted past the monster as Nóri threw the stone at its jaw.
“No fair,” It growled, “Nóri’s not playing fair.”
As she pulled out the last stone, she fired a bolt of light with her other hand that exploded against its back. She felt herself grow dizzy before she touched the stone and regained her focus.
As Buddy came back around, she jumped off and walked toward the monster, firing light with one hand and holding the stone in the other. Chunks of the monster were blasted away as it cried. The sun finally rose above the mountain and the fog started to lift.
She stopped, still holding the stone as the creature whimpered, crawling away. The monster now looked like a boy about her age.
“What kind of trick is this?” Nóri said, “Why do you look like that?”
“You drained my power,” The boy said, “I can’t look any other way.”
He looked down at his black-stained hands, “But I’ve never had this form before.”
“You’re lying.”
“No,” He said, standing up, “I’ve never felt so awake.”
He walked towards Noomi.
“Take another step and I’ll kill you,” Nóri said, light blossomed in her hand, “I won’t care if it kills me too.”
“Relax,” He said, crouching down and touching her chest, “I’m withdrawing the poison, but it should take her some time to recover. The sun should help.”
“Why?” Nóri said, putting her arm down.
“I don’t know,” He said, moving over to Morgan, “I think I’ve been a monster for a long time and my mind was twisted, but now I understand. I’m your twin brother. We were born at the same time but I know that you can never call me family again. Not after what I’ve done.
“I hope someday you can forgive me,” He grabbed a coat from Buddy’s saddle, “But until then I’m going far away so I never hurt your family again. Maybe I’ll find a new purpose there.”
He wandered barefoot out of the valley as Nóri helped Morgan and Noomi recover.
“What happened?” Morgan said as he sat on a warm rock, holding Noomi.
“I’ll explain later,” She said, looking into the sun, “I don’t think I fully understand yet.”
“Where did it go?” He asked, “I see a lot of blood, but no trail.”
“I’m not sure,” she said, turning to him, “But It won’t hunt us anymore.”
Noomi began to open her eyes, “Dad?”
“Good morning, sunshine,” He said, “let’s get you home.”
The Pondering Wanderer 