POV: Heath Dollen.
Date: Þórri 25th, 798 AD. (Alt: 6th February, 799 AD.) Location: Götaland (Ancient Sweden.)
(Corrected from Saltholmr (Saltholm island) to Bąckvikenholmr (Bäckviken(holm) island) as the meeting point. And have changed titles for certain characters to Norse from English.)
Today was an important historical moment. Heath, under the watch of Adal, had left the Cavern to set a warping for Vanaheimr's Iðavǫllr council, all except for the smiths are in attendance. Móðir Jǫrð was upon the stand, staring towards the great scientist God with eyes saying that he will be gaining much.
"Have you everything ready?" She asks, gaining a respectful nod in turn. All who were in attendance then travelled through to the smithy district, finding Gangr and Iði with their Faðir Ǫlvaldi working together as a trio towards a few final touches before being brought over for the competition. It appeared the mother was in the background as well, baking some bread as a small treat after they would finish their work. It was a sverðkljúfr (Cleaving sword) used both as a weapon and for chopping wood into timber splints.
"Your weapon would produce good kindling, smith Gangr." Heath compliments its splitting potential, earning a nod of appreciation but not a refocus of their vision, as they were still too concentrated on their work.
Heath watches their work in play, the addition of certain thaumaturgical ingredients used to fit into the bone steel to add greater enchantment variety in comparison to the available combination of 2 of Heath's own weaponry. Reynir (Rowan)'s tree wood was used for the handle, its protection against magic very useful when guarding against the mystical. The ingredients were put in too quickly when they were smithing, the timing of it made exact to increase their effectiveness by a great margin.
From what Heath could see at the end of their pinching, the crust-roots of a mountain for integrity, the sinews of predator animals difficult to hunt for binding, the vivified mixed breath of air, land and sea animals for life in the weapon, and the spittle of animals in flight.
To quench its strength, to permeate its every metallic fibre in the sky's vast potential. There were more features included, from plant and herbal extracts to the addition of smells and sounds, showering it under 7 enchantments of 'vague' attribution. And maybe that is what Heath needs to learn for his own smithing, to not focus on a specified feature but to not block his weapon's path through the many avenues of life. Just as a child's growth would be stumped by their parents' passions if forced down a single path, it needed to be free, liberated.
"I get it now." Heath's face resembled that meme of Danny DeVito, for he now realised the enthusiastic yearning in the treatment of their weapons-made-living. All were children to be nurtured, or if isolated, to then hurt everything around them in sequestered revenge.
"You appear to have reached an enlightenment, young God." Ǫlvaldi smiles, happy that their craft can spread to those outside of their own. "We have seen your work, and we know you will reach ours, or greater, in level." He turned his head again, testing the tang of their newly forged sverðkljúfr (Cleaving sword.) It gave a dull ring that would echo through souls, the material now spiritually pure and strong. It was placed into their case to then be transported through to Bąckvikenholmr (Bäckviken(holm) island,) their carriage now ready.
"Before you leave, sœtr (Sweets!)" The happy woman brings over sugary bread for all to feed upon, the taste of motherly love now giving a deep sense of accomplishment to all who tasted it. Heath says his thanks to her before they all leave, now, they are travelling over the foggy sea.
"This fog. Is its blockading magical in nature?" Heath questions Wulþuz (Ullr), who is their driver today. His silent nature simply provided a nod before seeing the wispy light that represents their destination's end. They park, the mist now only upon the edge of the entire island, soon, they find the Smiðrhǫll (Smithing hall) in the centre of the grasslands. Its well-kept stone material showing that it was used annually. The few þegnar (Servants) and þrælar (Thralls) working around the day and night to serve their Pantheon the best they can.
Heath simply stared around, finding the scene both inspiring and unsettling with their efficiency. He could tell they were happy with their work and that they were treated well, but his modern awareness made it hard to see it as anything other than negative.
"Áss God Vǫlundr?" The great scientist God sees the smith myth himself, upon a high podium made of white marble and overlaid with bronze and gold, Heath bows, paying respects to a millennia-old legend. "Rise, Heath Dollen, you are a guest." The faded voice grows upon him, making him rise from the blessed sound that stirs his Fylgja. All sit upon their pews, the stage set for both groups of competitors to take the stands. First was Brokkr and Eitri, their weapon now opened from their shining case.
From its opening, the 'tool' is seen. An enchanted bracelet, its invisible threads spreading into its every atom in a way to make it self-contained. Brokkr and Eitri describe its ability, how it enhances the wearer's strength and dexterity, allowing for precise and powerful strikes in both combat and crafting activities.
They show its work, Eitri, the stronger of the two brothers, shows his maximum speed and output upon an anvil that is part of the play with Brokkr working the bellows, how he forges a sword in dozens of swings even without the use of a forge from the force and heat of his self-heating autohelm hammer. He now puts it upon his ambidextrous left wrist to then show it, taking less than half of the total work to then reach the same result. Both are impossibly fast for a mortal, even still greater than a professional in Divine terms, once it was put on.
He shows the newly forged swords' durability by chopping at a meat and bone skewered upon a chain, not chipping even the slightest from the handiwork of his craftsmanship. Vǫlundr asks for the bracelet, named 'Tír(r)þróttr,' translated as 'Strength's honour,' now brought in front of him for a scanning of its attributes.
"Well done, now, to see your comparisons'." Vǫlundr asks them to go upon the stage, now showing their sverðkljúfr (Cleaving sword) upon the stage in collations to a higher-level mortal's steel axe, sword and thickened cleaver. The specialisation of the axe and sword made individuals rather than generalists, yet all were better than the average by a grand chasm of quality. Taking only 2 swings to cut through a trunk with the axe and arm strength, and 3 swings for the sword to do the same to a bovine leg.
The cleaver took 3 swings for the wood and 5 for the second bovine leg combined, all of them showing wear damage from the excessive force used in the strikes. Now, the forefront was the rivals' sverðkljúfr (Cleaving sword) named 'Ólmormur,' translated to 'Wyrms (Dragons)' savager.'
It took 1 swing into a log left outside that was the size of a small cottage to split it in half from above at an angle, it being formed from a sacred Askr (Ash) tree, and the same singular swing into a captured forndraugr (Ancient undead) for its bitter vestige to be made asunder beside it in cold iron. A fighter as experienced as Leif or Sigrid normally pushed into a corner by such a powerful enemy. With one incredibly driven throw, it went through them with a power best matching a minor Deity, if given to a mortal, it would allow them to become a menace of a conqueror!
One is a maker's gift, the other is a slasher's tool. Hard to rate one over the other when they cover such different facets under the rules of this tournament. "There is much to say involved with this. . ." The Judge states in his Divine consequence, thinking aloud.
"I vote Tír(r)þróttr." Vǫlundr claims, allowing the rest of the room to cast their statements. It was a 6 to 4 split, finally reaching an addendum that it was Ólmormr who won by majority. Seeing the blade as better for a single gifted warrior than if they wished to equip a normal army from a non-ascertained quality smithy. For in this case it depended on the wielder of the bracelet, but just as a spear was easy to learn, one simply had to swing to kill whatever was in its way with the Ólmormr.
They were brought into the treasury's trove under the island, now showing the collection over centuries of competitions. The split showed that it was Brokkr and Eitri still in the lead, with the gap now slightly together.
"Well done, brother. . ." Brokkr now congratulated his lovable Eitri. "And your work is getting better, Ǫlvaldissonur!" He also says so with good sportsmanship to their friendly competing friends. A nice spread of food came after this competition, rolls, fruits and meats upon a grand table that decorated it with enough to feed Þórr himself. They dug in, eating til their belts were unfastened and their tunics were stretched. Heath still tried to keep it to normal levels, but the others kept on trying to goad him to eat more.
"*HUᵁ HOH HOH!*Go on, it is for all of us!" Eitri says behind another Stein-like mug of mead, having drunk enough to piss out a small pond if not for their freakish anatomy. This continued on for the night, new knowledge shared and interspersed for Heath to gather.
If one were to make their space for blessings specifically, to hallow their work, they must also introduce candling of rare waxes combined with hallowed resins in likeness to the Ýd (Yew) Tree or others stated beforehand. The presence of these ancient varðir in an environment as numinous, then condensed, into an elixir for the weapons. Or other features, to give vocal blessings that run through certain parts of a weapon's make, to speak one's binding rather than focusing their intent.
This would lead to 3 parts that connect to the soul, the Hugr (Mind / Personality), Hamr (Form / shape), Megin (Focused strength) and Fylgja (Follower spirit,) rather than just the Hugr and Fylgja. Voices working as how one could understand their owner as a baby would learn a language faster if spoken to from birth.[1]
"This is getting complicated." Heath murmurs to himself, leading the others to laugh against his slight brooding. "Strange, Áss God Vǫlundr is nowhere to be seen?" He asks them, leading to them blagging it off, saying he would usually leave earlier than the rest of them.
"He sometimes returns before we leave, to show a new skill he learnt from his worldly travels throughout the continent, part of the reason he has so many myths involving him." Brokkr continues, eating a large ham leg in bountiful bites. "What had he shown the last period?" Heath questions, leading to them stopping their eating and all of them travelling into the treasury, where they soon stand in front of the finished prototype of a GIANT Kongming (Flying) lantern, a rendition using an air-tight leather fabric-covered overlay to hold the hot air for rising a flattened platform that had seating.
It was large enough to hold 5 people, a truly impressive feat for being over half a millennium too early compared to the first hot air balloons that were released on June of 1783. The size of the bag was as big as the Voliris airship.
The style you would best describe as magipunk, controllable through tightened slotting rods that fit in 2 coordinated gear boxes, representing the direction of travel for the left rod, and whether one is going higher or lower with the right. "This is incredible! I have seen the first flying machines that were before my birth, you would make the Montgolfier brothers blush!" And that was clear to all ears Heath meant it. "What were its differences?" Eitri asks, happy to see that he was so knowledgeable. They talked like this for hours, passion greeting passion.
And Vǫlundr did return, also joining in and caught up with everything spoken about. He was actually rather down-to-earth, would you believe? He had no arrogance, only an insatiable curiosity about all things material and magic.
"-and that is how the updraft under a wing's structure would assent a lifting counter force against gravity, using the first versions of duralumin for the flying metal planes." Heath explained the details on the first proto-alloy used during the 1906 - 1914 era flyers. Such knowledge helped these smiths see the feasibility of the design, even given final magigraphic (magic holographic) presentations and videos of when Heath saw examples on YouTube or in museums such as miniature models in flight tunnels.
"Such wonder, your people were truly intelligent. And you say your own even made 'rockets' that had reached your moon?" Vǫlundr questions, soon given visual examples of how the Saturn V had been experimented with, run up through the atmosphere and into the minor gravity well through memory.
"Then let us aspire for our people ever to reach those heights." Vǫlundr truly meant that double-entendred pun. "Now, you have given me much inspiration on what to make, Heath Dollen. You have gained my blessing to continue your work." At this rate, he is collecting their powers as a master would collect Yu-Gi-Oh cards, just one after the other. "And it is getting late for all of us. I suggest we each go back home." The Áss God smith finished their honest thoughts, all of them travelling back in turn to lead a peaceful night.
To follow up on a previously brought in process, Heath then went to see Skaði, who was delighted to have his company in getting to know each other. She may have been quiet, but she was intense all the same, both sharing insights into each other's work to give a greater quality.
"Here, your work needs a touchup. Let me help you." She leans behind him, her leather dress covering part of his leg as she guides his hands through the microscopic stitching that allows the material to gain new abilities. Heath felt it was too close to comfort how she pressed herself into him, but she was a great teacher. 'I have told her all the same, she should have understood that I will not change so quickly.' Heath kept his face impassive, worried that if he gave a negative reaction, it might lead to anger being put into their lessons.
"Nicely done." Her voice was still closed and tactless, yet warmth began building in her declension. Body still pressed against his side before moving away as to grab the next material. Her skin in a literal sense a white, blinding snow, in contrast to this one that is not from an animal, but a concept:
"Hvítillskuggar (Shadow cloth.) Where one can use the embodiment of darkness as a material to bind physical objects." She brings it over to him in a folded wrap, lastly leading it over the material to show two different leather types joined together, using it as a tarp underlayer. She moved into him again, almost grinding during the leandown while picturing how the treated skins and hides inter-melted, creating the ability to wrap itself in blended concealment. Her bare, strong climbers' legs pressed onto Heath's shin, their heights working against her hopes.
'Is she being forced into doing this, or is this her own free will?' Heath scrounges his dignity to move backwards, but it was as if he was locked in place, unable to move from her force. 'Okay, this is turning too direct for my liking.' He intents his body to move against her will.
From making himself move, he acts by moving to the opposite side of the workbench as if looking to peer into the Hvítillskuggar (Shadow cloth)'s every secret. Skaði's face remained immobile, but there was a hint of annoyance in her brow at her obvious hints not working. 'Work be damned.' Heath saw that minor expression change, now seeing that it was her own doing, wrung emotions were also kept honest within her spiritual presence, for she felt a liking towards Heath's character. "What is it you see in me that makes you want me?" Heath questions, finally breaking the ice.
Skaði quietens, her body language softening as she sees his distrust on the matter. Never in all of her years had her interests ever rejected her, many a mortal and God giving her sadly failed relationships of both short and long memories during her existence. "You, as you are." Her face was placid with the truth of the matter.
"Skaði. I have already said I am still dealing with my own loss. I do not want whoever I date to feel inadequate, if we were in one, you would not have my full attention." Heath silently sighed. "I know." She gives out in a gentle mewl, yet the intensity from her first stares do not wane. Heath avoided her further 'actions' in this, trying to learn from her while keeping it purely business-centred and friendly. He could tell she was alone too, and he saw much of the same personality he had seen in Ghiliana, but that was the problem.
Comparing her to Ghiliana will create unwanted presumptions and idealisations that could make or break a possible connection. Heath knows this, even trying to let her see his point, but she sees the best in Heath of what they could be, a compact that could last the test of history.
By the time of the next day's dawn, their teachings were done, luckily with no hurt feelings, but it appears she will try and make it a matter more personal for the future. As Skaði, being a Dís Goddess, means that when her mind is set on a target, she will continue whatever path it takes in similar way to how she would ski down a mountain's edge till reaching a safe landing. Heath leaves after a hug was given between him and her, also seeing all of the other Vanir to say goodbyes before coming back to the Cavern.
He warps back, now Þórri 26th (Alt: 7th February.) Everyone saw his tired mood from the dodgings he made against an Ásynja Goddess. He talked about how much he had learnt and what he will give to the people, but many asked him to rest for the day.
Heath sat there, contemplating what his plan will be for the next afternoon, hoping that the new (alchemical farm) beside the (elemental farm) would provide these ingredients in bulk once designed and built, the way it was done being partially grown into vertical stacking terraces.
[1] More from Chapter 33.