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 unro
lled 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