A New Beginning
Sorenhall stood five longhouses from the bay. Small circular wooden tiles coated the sweeping roof, and the body of the abode was made of stacked stones held together by clay. Other than the Fest Hall in Bergendal, Sorenhall was the largest longhouse Ailia had ever seen. Across the courtyard stood a small, wooden hut, and a barn was situated behind it.
The instant Soren, Ailia, Erlend Jr., and Silya walked through the wooden gate, a blond, middle-aged woman ran toward Erlend Jr., and threw her arms around him.
“That’s Liv,” Soren whispered to Ailia. A trail of goosebumps went down her spine when his lips touched her earlobe. On the way back to Trollsoe, there had been little privacy as Silya and Erlend Jr. were on the dragonship with them. Soren would steal pecks from Ailia, but she knew he was holding back, not wanting to embarrass her or the others with their display of affection. During the week, whenever he had a chance, he had shared with her stories of their previous lives. She, too, had told him about her life in Bergendal and of how her maredreams had started the day she turned seventeen. She enjoyed their conversations immensely, and they came with the greatest of ease, yet she longed for so much more. More touches. More kisses. More time. With the lightest touch, or the briefest glance, he set her body on fire, and she only imagined how wonderful it would be once they no longer had to restrain their affections.
“I was worried sick, child,” Liv said, tugging at Erlend Jr.’s brown bear fur coat, her eyes filled with tears and her expression one of horror. “Not a word other than that you thought you had seen Light, and then you vanished as if the sea had swallowed you up whole.”
“I told Bestfather to tell you,” Erlend Jr. said apologetically.
Liv gave him a stern look. “Oh, he did tell me, he did, and he told me not to worry my sweet little head, but a mother will worry if her child goes missing for weeks. No man should dare tell a woman to calm down if that happens. And in truth, the old man didn’t know what had become of you. You could have been sold as a slave yourself and I never would have seen you again!”
“There wasn’t time,” he said. “Ailia was being sold to Vikings and they were just about to set sail.”
Liv huffed. “I know. I know.” She turned to Ailia. “And I don’t blame you one bit. It’s just how it had to happen.” She glared back at Erlend Jr. “Just promise me, young man, never, ever do it again.”
“I’m sorry,” Erlend Jr. said.
Relief washed over her pale, slightly wrinkled face, and as if she had become a completely different person, she offered a scintillating smile. “Now, welcome to our home.” Her barely-there eyebrows wiggled as she spoke in an excited tone of voice, and as she moved with the energy of a five year old. “Please, please come inside. You must all be so very exhausted.”
Liv wrapped her arm around Ailia’s shoulders and steered her toward the entrance. “I’ve wanted to meet you since the day I was born!”
Ailia smiled. “And I, you.”
“Watch your steps,” Liv said as they entered through the door.
The scent of beef stew filled Ailia’s nostril when she stepped inside. The longhouse was warm and uncommonly light, lit by dozens of lanterns and three hearths: two in the main room, one in the kitchen.
“Now, there’s an eastern entrance too, but this door is the main one and leads straight into the kitchen. My husband Otto is out fishing today with Erlend Sr., poor guy. Erlend Sr., I mean, not my husband. Erlend can barely keep up these days. You’ll meet them both later. They’re never late for repast.”
Liv’s casual demeanor helped put Ailia at ease.
“Now, I always, always speak my mind, whether my words make sense to anyone else or not, so please don’t take anything personally or read too much into it. Sometimes, I cannot even make sense of what I’m saying myself,” Liv said with a chortle.
Ailia laughed.
“So, here’s the kitchen and I’ve made beef stew for tonight,” Liv said. “Had I known you were coming, I would have cooked up the fresh salmon, but perhaps we can have that tomorrow. Nevertheless, here’s the pantry and storage room and of course—” she waved them to continue to follow her, “—here is the main room. I’ll have you sleep in here on the benches next to the children over there. Will that suit you? If not, I can—”
“It will suit us just fine,” Soren said.
“Or you can sleep in the cot—or, no—I have a better idea,” Liv said, not divulging it, but grinning excitedly.
Two hearths glowed in the center of the narrow, long room and low-lying platforms lined the walls on either side. The loom and spinning wheel were situated on the left platform next to where the children slept and three longtables decked the platform on the right.
Soren whispered to Ailia, “If you do not remember, Liv and Alva are our great grandchildren. Liv married Otto and together, they have three young children. Alva married his wife Eira and together they have two children.”
Ailia nodded. She wanted to meet them, so she could put faces with their names. My children’s children.
“Ah, there you are!” Liv said, welcoming two men as they stepped in through the door. “Erlend Sr. and Otto, meet Ailia.”
“I told you your son would be back without a scratch,” Erlend Sr. said when he saw Erlend Jr. “All that worrying for nothing, woman.”
“Oh, hush, old man,” Liv snapped. “You claim to be clairvoyant, but half the time I think you just pretend to have had a vision so we’ll listen to your nonsense.” But then she offered him a small grin.
“Erlend Sr., Freydis’s son and the patriarch of the family, is slowing down at the ripe old age of seventy-three,” Soren whispered to Ailia. “And although Liv would never admit to it, he is indeed clairvoyant.”
Erlend Sr. headed straight toward Ailia and hugged her warmly. “I have been waiting all my life, just so I could meet you,” he said. He resembled Soren in many ways, but was shorter, had wrinkled skin, and had gray hair instead of dark brown.
“Me too,” Ailia said, tearing up. Freydis’s son.
Otto embraced her next. “It’s an honor to finally meet you. Please, our home is your home. You are welcome to stay—well, forever if you’d like.” His thick, black beard fluttered when his lips moved and his kind hazel eyes seemed to smile even though his full lips didn’t.
“Thank you,” Ailia said.
“Perhaps you’d like to rest a little before repast?” Liv said.
“That sounds wonderful,” Ailia said, feeling exhausted after the long, hard trip back. Liv showed them to her and Otto’s box bed, and as soon as her head hit the down pillow, Ailia was out.
* * *
That evening, when everyone had arrived back home, Erlend Sr. took it upon himself to formally introduce the family to Ailia. They gathered around the hearth, sitting on benches, huddling close to the flames.
“This is Stina. She is seventeen and Vidar here is eighteen and, finally, Erlend Jr., named after me of course. You already met him, but he is nineteen, almost twenty and is the eldest of all the grandchildren,” he said, looking proud, sitting in his chair waiving his crooked, old cane. “Liv and Otto are very blessed to have such lovely children. Are they not beautiful?”
“Yes, so very beautiful,” Ailia said. “I’m pleased to meet you all.” They had a special glow about them, she thought, and they had the same black curly hair as Erlend Jr. Did, taking after their father, Otto.
“And here are Alva and Eira’s young ones. Martin just turned eighteen and Solvei is the baby of them all,” Erlend Sr. said, placing his hands on her shoulders.
“I just turned sixteen!” Solvei yelled. “And, who are you exactly?” she asked Ailia, staring her down with an iron glare and less than hospitable demeanor. Her blond, messy hair fit well with her feisty personality.
“Well, I’m your—uh—” Ailia didn’t quite know what to say.
“Aunt will do just fine,” Liv said, standing next to Ailia as she winked at Soren.
Soren smiled and nodded. “Aunt Ailia. I like that.”
Ailia narrowed her eyes at him.
“Watch out for Solvei,” Erlend Sr. said. “She is beautiful as the day is long, but she has the tongue of a dragon!” He laughed until he started hacking and coughing.
“Erlend’s wife, Ida, died last winter of a sudden onset of pneumonia. That is why he still wears his black mourning clothes,” Soren whispered.
I wish I would have met her too. Ailia nodded.
Later that same evening, the family sat down for repast to a meal worthy of the gods. As the sun sank into the ocean, the satiated group meandered back over to the two living hearths. Ailia sat beside Soren, and he took her hand in his, holding it on his lap. Shadows of gray played on the surface of the bisque oak walls and intensified as the darkness set in.
“Can I have your attention?” Silya asked the gathering. In her hands she held an item covered in a black linen cloth. “I was able to locate something of extreme value to everyone here. I apologize for not telling you sooner, but I did not because of the risks.”
Ailia glanced at Soren. From his slightly bewildered expression, she could tell he didn’t know what was underneath the cloth either. However, she assumed he was thinking the same thing as she was. The Aesira Jewel.
Silya had Liv pull up a table and she carefully placed the wrapped item on it. Then, she unfolded the cloth and revealed its contents: a large, multi-faceted, oval jewel.
“Behold the Aesira Jewel,” Silya said.
A gasp went through the room.
“Where did you get it?” Soren asked.
“From Bishop Peter. After he ran from the church, he hid in the woods, waiting until the Vikings had moved on. Just after Lucia had left, he arrived at Brandersgaard with it, entrusting it in my keeping.”
“Is it a real diamond?” Solvei asked, her eyes trained on the massive jewel.
“The three-hundred and sixty faceted yellow diamond was created in Alvheim by Iluxia,” Silya said.
“I have heard it’s what shifts the seasons. Is that right?” Erlend Jr. asked.
“Yes,” Soren said.
“How was the jewel created?” Solvei asked.
Soren rose to his feet, walked over to the jewel, and picked it up. “Iluxia took one forty facet yellow diamond from each of the nine realms and soldered the nine separate pieces into one. Ailia, come here,” he said, looking at her.
She approached Soren. Standing this close to it, she could see that the Aesira Jewel rested in a gold filigree sunbeam setting and was held in place by nine gold pave-set prongs.
“You have Aesira blood running through your veins, so now the Aesira Jewel is yours,” Soren said to Ailia.
“Now all we need to do is to locate the Aesira Scrolls, so I will know how to use it,” Ailia said. “Silya, do you know if the church was destroyed?”
The Sami woman shook her head, looking despondently angered.
“If the scrolls were indeed destroyed, Iluxia knows how to use it,” Otto said.
“Yes, but we will have to go to him, because I have not seen him since the eternal winter started. He may not be able to enter Midgard because of it,” Soren said.
“Could we travel to Alvheim?” Ailia asked.
Soren nodded. “But first things first. We need to find the scrolls and then—” he took Ailia’s hand in his. “Ailia and I have something we would like to speak to all of you about.”
All ears perked in the room.
“Yes?” Erlend Sr. said, holding his goblet up. Guri filled it with more wine.
“As you all know, Ailia and I are forming an alliance to fight in Ragnarok, to take the throne back from Eiess and destroy her,” Soren said.
Everyone nodded.
“We both had serious doubts whether or not to ask you what we are about to ask you,” Soren said. “Because we worried that your lives would be a risk.”
Ailia steadied her trembling breath.
“We both agreed that you, our beloved family, are the best choice to fight at the forefront alongside us.” Soren looked at Ailia.
“There would be no greater honor than to fight and defeat Eiess, with you on our side, at the final battle of Ragnarok,” Ailia said.
Erlend Sr. spoke up immediately. “What, are you completely senseless? Who do you think we are, exactly?”
Ailia’s heart leapt into her throat. “Well, you see…if—”
“Shut up and listen you two,” Erlend Sr. said, wagging his old, crooked finger at them. A vacuous emptiness of words and breaths held the previously merry room hostage. No one moved. Not even the youths.
Erlend Sr. leaned forward, his glare fixated in Soren’s. “We will not support you in the final battle,” he paused. “—only. We will support you in every battle from today and until the final battle!” He lifted his goblet, splashing wine onto the oak floor.
Ailia exhaled in relief.
“Hip, hip!” Otto said.
“Hip, hip!” Alva and Eira chimed in.
“Hip, hip!” Everyone in the room cheered with their goblets held high.
“Then the first step of our plan is underway,” Soren said, squeezing Ailia’s hand.
As everyone settled into quiet conversations around the hearth, Soren leaned over to Ailia. “Would you like to take a walk with me?”
She’d spent the entire week with him, but the thought of being completely alone made her knees go weak. “I’d like that very much.” They told the family they were heading out for a walk, and then they slipped on their overcoats and mittens.
Large, but few, snowflakes sailed from the partly cloudy heavens as they stepped outside. Quietness had fallen over the sleeping Trollsoe like a reverent prayer, as if the gods had granted Ailia and Soren this rare moment of serenity. They exited through the gate and took a left at the main road.
“I used to think everything was written in the stars,” Ailia said, looking up at the shimmering lights that peeked out in between the clouds. She grabbed his arm and leaned her head onto his shoulder.
“And now?” Soren asked.
“Now, I realize all things are written on my heart.”
“Even me?” He glanced at her from beneath his lashes.
“Especially you,” she said.
He took both of Ailia’s mitten-covered hands in his and walked backwards, pulling her along. “I have something I would like you to read.”
“Oh?”
He stopped walking backwards and pulled out an old, yellowed scroll from inside his overcoat.
“What is it?” she asked as he handed it to her.
“Just read it.”
She carefully unrolled the fragile scroll, afraid she might damage it. The words on the letter were blurred and streaked, as if drops of water had bled the ink. Tears?
My dearest Spiritus Amor, Soren,
She looked up.
His eyes urged her to continue reading.
Eiess’ longship arrived at the docks today and I have decided to surrender, so that many lives will be spared, including yours and Freydis’. I suspect Eiess will drown me at sea, since she knows it is only by that method I can die. She is still as deceitful as she was when she broke our covenant in Alvheim and descended into mortality in Midgard, violating the deified barrier between mortals and divine beings.
Ailia breathed. “I wrote this.” A
Soren nodded and she continued reading.
We should have prepared much better in this, my second life, to conquer her. But how could we have known that she had grown so much stronger than before? You must not blame yourself—promise me you will not. This is not the end, Soren, but the beginning of Ragnarok, which will give us our freedom to love each other forever. This is not the time to mourn our apartness but to plan for the greatest event in our lives. You must continue to plan for my return and gather as many allies as you can. Try to find Eiess’ weakness, so we can use it against her when we need to. I will be back and though I will remember nothing of who I am or of our previous lives when I am reborn, I know you will help me remember.
Please take care of Freydis. She is so beautiful and I cannot mourn enough that I will not be able to raise her. One day, her children and our descendants may support us and help us in the final battle of Ragnarok.
Tears spilled out of Ailia’s eyes. When I wrote this, I was with our daughter.
Soren stepped behind her, kissed her on the cheek and cradled her in his arms.
Her throat had clamped up so much that she could not continue reading out loud. She lowered the scroll, but suddenly Soren started reciting the letter from memory.
Know that I am always with you, thinking of you wherever I am and waiting to be reunited with you, my Spirit love. Remember what Iluxia said in Alvheim before we clothed ourselves with mortality: our hearts will speak the truth to our souls—that is how we will find one another and remember who we are to each other and to the world. Our love will guide us and help us overcome the destroyer of all freedom, happiness and light.
My greatest fear, my love, is not to be tortured or to even suffer death again, but rather that I might not be able to fulfill my destiny in life with you by my side. I do not know when I will return, or when you will find me again, but know that I will be waiting for you to awaken my soul with your voice and your loving touch.
The word ‘love’ does not encompass enough of what I feel for you, for it is so much more than mere love that we share. I am in you and you are in me. We are the creation of two spirits sealed together as one, created for each other for the eternities. When our souls join, they burn with more fervor than the Sun, they move more than the strongest of winds and give life, like the fountain of eternal living waters. Together, we will fight the battles of Ragnarok and together, we will triumph.
I will be waiting for you, Soren, so wait for me and keep your eyes and your heart open for the day when I will return to you. And remember, at the end of all things, it will not be hope that will keep us going, it will only be each other.
All my love and life, Lucia
“I have read it a few times,” he said.
“Oh, Soren,” she said, wishing she could remember him. But perhaps she did, though not in the normal sense. Her mind could not recall the memories, but her heart could, for it felt so full, burning with desire, coming alive again with his voice and touch.
“We must plan for our new lives now,” he said, coming around to face her.
“Yes.” She could barely see through her veil of tears. She tried to imagine how difficult it must have been for Soren to wait for her all these years, when after having been with him for so shot, she could not imagine living a day without him.
He drew her in close, and they gazed into each other’s eyes, their noses almost touching. He caressed her cheek first and then he traced the edges of her lips with his fingers. She could see in his magnificently blue eyes how much he needed her and though she had imagined this moment countless times before, she had never anticipated how blissful a state his touch would send her.
He started showering her neck and face with kisses and she closed her eyes, tilted her head back and let out a sigh. Her spirit merged with his, exalting her into a higher state; yet, she had never felt more true to herself.
Then, finally, he reached behind her head and gently pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was unbelievably sensual. Their faces so near, so sensitive to the touch, sweeping against each other, as their cold noses brushed with each wet kiss. Their breaths mingled warm and close in the chill winter air, together as one. Ailia became lost in her senses, feeling only love coming from him and her loving him back.
He is mine and I am his. The kiss grew more passionate and Ailia’s desire for her Sentinor had never been deeper. She could feel in his movements that he had been waiting for this moment too, and that he wanted and needed her in every possible way. She wondered if it had been this wonderful during her first two lifetimes, if he had been able to arouse her body to this level of absolute need to have the flames quenched. His arms moved across her back, pulling her closer to him—so close, she could feel his heart beating. She reached to the back his head and locked her arms behind his neck. She tasted his sweet lips, but she couldn’t get enough and wanted to be even closer to him still.
Her heart dropped a little when she felt him starting to pull away.
Still embracing her body, he looked into her eyes. “I have something else I would like to show you.”
“What?” she asked, her chest still pounding, her body still yearning so much for his. She didn’t want to be anywhere other than in his arms, kissing him, holding him, making love to him.
“Come with me.” He took her hand and started down the road.
Next to Sorenhall was an empty lot, and in the middle of the snow-blanketed field, Ailia could see timber and the unfinished construction of a longhouse.
They waded through the snow and finally at the incomplete longhouse, Soren said, “Our new home.” He guided her in between the sawdust and logs. “I started building it right before I met you.” He knelt down in front of her, pulled back his hood, and looked up at Ailia. “For three-quarters of a century I have been waiting for you and awaiting the day when we could begin our lives anew. The loss of your life has been the hardest thing I have had to endure, but now, having you stand here in front of me, I realize that the pain has all been worth it, just so I can see you and marry you again. Will you, Ailia? Will you marry me?”
Ailia fell to her knees and kissed him over and over again, tears streaming from her eyes. “Yes, Soren, yes,” she said. “I have always known there was only one person for me, a special someone waiting for me, and now I have finally found you again. I’m already yours, forever.”
Just as she had said the last words, the earth below them started to quake. A worried look flashed across Soren’s face and he quickly lifted Ailia to her feet. “Back to Sorenhall,” he said. By the time they had arrived back home, the quaking had ceased.
“Did you feel the earth move?” Otto asked them when they entered.
“Yes,” Soren said. “It must have been a small earthquake.”
“No,” Erlend Sr. bellowed from his rocking chair. The irises in his eyes had turned white. “Eiess knows you have found each other. She has just sent legions of Surtorians out after you. I saw it just now.”
“How many are in a legion?” Ailia asked.
Soren looked at her, his face ashen. “Six thousand.”
Ailia shrunk. “And how many… legions?”
“Six,” Erlend Sr. said, his eyes still white from the vision.
“Six? That means there will be—” Ailia did the math in her head. “Thirty-six thousand Surtorians.” The only references she had to these Surtorians were from her maredreams and that one incident by the Bergendal Stave Church, and brushing shoulders with only a few of them had nearly shaken her to pieces.
“We must head for Floraland,” Soren said.
“No!” Erlend Sr. stood up slowly and walked toward Ailia and Soren. “You must go to the place where Eiess does not want to go. You must head south where the sun shines nearly all day and all night.”
“The Southlandic Kingdom.” Soren nodded and looked at Ailia, his eyes brimming with sincerity. “Mumtaz will be delighted to have us.”