POV: Heath Dollen.
Date: Þórri 3rd, 598 AD. (Alt: 15th January, 599 AD.) Location: Götaland (Ancient Sweden.)
13 days of continuous mind-stretching labour, he learnt much, yet felt as if he knew nothing at all. His soul brimming with differing spells, and one attributed much like his portal magic.
A magic sight unlike any he has ever known, every point of contact allows him to predict the ebb and flow that is usually hidden, even from the detection of his sigil and runic injector's simulatory processes. So slow and viscous, yet equally fast and torrential, a visual paradox.
He is lucky his multiple safety features block the view upon the Cavern, because he pictured through his dream space without them, and it was a true magic hog in its throughput. So many individual currents ran through due to all of the individual devices relying upon, an agriculturally mixed farmer's plot chugging water for the best representation. Even without this overdeveloped technique, one could tell how bad it would have been. "Gawd dayum, I've been lucky." He exaggeratively says in English while checking the next weakest current.
He follows this rivulet down a winding mess of a path, much like in electricity following the least resistance, where it would have greater psychosociological significance, abandoned towns, graveyards, minor burial monuments, intune locations of significant importance. . .
There were many millennia of history, all intertwined, visually identical to how the galactic clusters were gravitationally entangled with the Great Attractor in space, it was dazzling now that there was a clearer view of a once muddied and flawed picture. And where that Attractor may be, is where the gate to the next realm is. Not even a thread of silk in thickness was Heath's presence upon the world in this form. A perfect viewer. . . Well. Near, near perfect in being hidden.
He was met by an arrow that he felt was a threat, targeted towards him and through the spruce tree behind him in its power and sharpness. He looked towards the location and saw Thyra, the mennskr huntress of Vanaheimr. "SHIT." He tried to run, but to no avail.
She followed him, even when travelling at his fastest speed with what little magic he had, being so far from his main body. Under the earth, she was above him and her eyes bore straight through, above in the sky, she would shoot arrows to take him down. "JUST WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, THYRA? I WAS TRYING TO FIND THE GATE TO MEET KING TIWAZ!" He would shout in Norse from below the earth through every depth of his soul, and that jolting sentence caused an arrow to be shot through the earth and into Heath's tendril.
This coiling caused him to react as if he was solid yet low in density, a buoyant force worked upon him and made him skid across the grass until he came to a stop into a small rock formation. She kept her bow steady upon him, ready to knock and release a promise of pain.
"How do you know?" Her fierce yet gallant voice gave an open-ended question that could have multiple answers, Heath gathered what remaining decorum he had to answer. "I am in contact with Queen Freyja, teaching me the ways of her Sumer-like Runes." Heath answered.
"You lie?" She tenses her back muscles, not believing a stranger could befriend them. "I do not lie, I will show you!" He used a portion of his magic to form a short word for FIRE, forming an ember mote that slowly drifted downwards and disappeared from view.
"I may not have much magic in this form, but I know many more." Then WATER to collect the humidity into a droplet, then GUST to guide the now created hot and cold air currents in tandem, repeating this process 3 more times before Thyra's hand raised.
"You have shown enough, but what is the name of their pets?" She no longer points her bow, but her eyes showed she can still inflict injury with her bare hands. "Hnoss and Gersemi for Queen Freyja, and trick question, Tiwaz has only you." Heath stared straight, acting as if it was through her. "Found alone as an orphan by the border. I shared my own knowledge as a trade for what could not be hidden from me by the Fates of each species. I am Heath Dollen of the Mennskrðrútan. Not one from the Æsir you assumed." He understood what happened.
A simple misunderstanding that nearly led to him being forcefully brought back to his body. "You appeared in a similar way to Heimdallr from coming in the same direction. How could I not?" She kept on guard, her face unexploitable. "You know me, state your business."
He did not enjoy her cold tone, but understood he was a stranger. "Óðinn has forces of Bǫlverkr upon their six-legged horses that are to be sent to this general area to find a possible weak point. Warn the King of the misty storm to soon appear." He spiritually crosses his arms, which shows in real life with his ghostly form as well. "While I bring tidings. That us of the Völsung Clan defeated the Spiritual Queen two weeks ago." Just as she acted, he kept with no opening. "So you are that man?" She slowly realised from the rumours that spread.
"Yes, the one who dealt the final blow." Heath strained his vision for a return home, now ending this farce. "Goodbye." He cut off the connection. "Wait-" What Thyra was going to say was not heard. "Rather keep away from one who nearly shot me." He grumbled.
"That would have hurt not as badly as the charring, but I achieved my goal." He paced in his dream space now, wondering what to do instead due to this souring. 'Heh, Sauron.' Both his dark armour made of CrCoNi alloy and his incredible height reminded an intrusive thought that evoked the titular antagonist. 'I should introduce this world to the Lord of the Rings, that would be a fun spin with a bunch of others on the internet I am planning to recreate.' A nice little distraction to help calm him down. Always needing something, never to falter or break.
Heath tinged the minor leftover connection between him and King Tiwaz, a punishment not being required against Thyra for this minor transgression. He barely felt any responsiveness during the time it was connected, but he knew that the message was sent and heard.
"I wonder if my body is ready to be reanimated?" He says to nobody from within the dream space, with his curiosity winning out, he tries to force himself to consciousness, which creates a minor strain that spreads throughout his soul. The best way to describe it would be when he ate the cheap Chipotle meals from back in the day, not enough fibre for his diet. Pushing through, he finally cracks open his real eyes and looks around, just as he feels normal again, the dizziness kicks in, worse than when travelling through a portal.
"The room is spinning, great." His voice jumbled, disoriented, he tenses himself to push through this temporary state to get off the bed when he nearly falls forward, but is caught by the visually vibrating figure of Valyria, now fully hugging him. "Too early, Papa."
She pushes him back onto the bed. "I am fine, kid. I have felt wo-*breath in*-rse." He tries again, but is pinned down from his shoulders. "No." Another voice in the background, though his current state makes it hard to tell if it was between Gorm and Leif. The mystery man walks forward, and him being of a taller height yet more slender build, Heath could now tell it was the son. "I just need a breath of fresh air to calm my nerves, Leif. At worst, it is a migraine." Pleading was a new tactic that had become more frequent. To no avail.
"*Ugh*You got charred to a piece of bonfire jerky, Heath. You are absolutely frustrating." Holding his forehead with great annoyance, he strides in and sits beside him. "What is driving you to such extremes?" He asks, hoping to understand if it is anything serious.
"I have had contacts with the Vanir through my dream space, the likes of Queen Freyja, Mother Jörð with her father, Annarr, and King Tiwaz, all in discussion for a political alliance after seeing our potential. I am worried that such contact with them may lead to a dark fate that I wish to avoid." The hands that held his shoulders gave out, and a high-intensity red filtered through the top of his vision by the same point where Valyria's face was. "What would happen, Papa?" She kept her emotions to herself, though her eyes told everything.
"They have little clues that could tie with us, I expect them at most in 6 months as a high estimate as stated by Queen Freyja, and the Spiritual Guide could be a potential threat with her own court of loyal Dökkálfar." His vision begins calming now, the spinning slowed.
Valyria clenched her hands, still learning proper emotional regulation and worried for her Papa being hurt again, for seeing what she had seen, they are handling it well. "Hey, wait. Wait, where are you going, kid?" Heath asks, now seeing her walking out. "Talking to Grandpa Gorm." The door closes from behind her, leaving Heath and Leif in the room together. ""*Hu~*"" Both breathe out at the same time, almost choreographed. They look between each other in contemplation around the room.
"My vision is still quite bad, but I can tell you have equal stress as I do. What do you believe may happen from what I described?" Heath asks, hoping that there may be another angle. Leif shakes his head. "More than likely the same conclusions you have reached." He finalises.
"I should have told Valyria to stay rather than keep by the rear of the formation." He now understands the scarring of this event may soon run deep, and he is worried of the possibilities that Valyria may become overprotective or become something she did not originally want to be. "Thinking that giving her this leeway would reduce further risk in reality made it much worse." He puts his head into his hands, and an old habit from when he was a teen of shaking his leg built up again.
"I could see both your points, brother." Leif tries to push him out of this spiral. "She would have rebelled against you much harder if you told her to stay, and you wished to keep her safe. It is not our fault but those that were evil and malevolent that we fought." . . .
"There is much more that we will go through, and she may be less than a month old, but she already acts closer to an adult than some of our people already." Leif says as a praise, but it made Heath feel worse. "I did not want that. I wanted her to keep her innocence until she was ready. I am not ready for many things in life, it would be hypocritical of me to treat her differently." He raises his head, no putting his chin upon a closed fist. "And you called me brother." Heath smirks, leading to Leif to give a comforting smile and a pat on the back.
"I agree, but I had learnt of death when I was less than 3 winters old." Leif looks into his thick worker's hands. "There are those who were younger than me, who may not remember, but have these habits now due to our brutality, it is a harsh life." His arms flop onto his legs.
"All we can do is comfort one another, and there will be greater challenges once more people learn and choose to live in this location. There will be hundreds of our and others' clans to stay after all, with many more over the coming decades." Leif now gets up and clicks his back through a stretch. "Now, does your vision feel better?" He looks down and saw Heath's leg no longer shaking and him nodding, his beard wobbling as a slab of hair against his arm. "And this is off topic." Leif comes up to him to give him a hand in getting up.
"We will need to add more plants, greenery and paintings around the complex. It feels too much a blank canvas for us to paint." He helps Heath get up and stabilise, then they begin by shuffling forward until it is comfortable to walk again. "Which type of plants? Who is your best painter?" He squints his eyes, concentrating his intent more towards healing his not-as-blurry vision. "Best in my opinion would be to use a thick ivy through the roof to create a canopy. And for the artists? The Halcrodóttir triplets, we are going to them now."
"I have never met triplets in my home realm. Are they matching?" Heath got a smile in response. "Two kvenna (women), one mann (man, obv.) They are twins, and you will enjoy their company." Through the portal and into the main apartment area they go.
Down the hallway, they see the > 1000 or so people walking around. Chatting, playing, keeping watch and respectfully bowing to both Heath and Leif, or working in temporary stalls by using the first floor of their apartments as their shops, with the second floor to be their home, even having homemade signage in front! "Have the individual shops obtained the best equipment through my technology runic injectors?" Heath got a nod. "Proper tools towards all terms, from forging through the new anvils and automated adaptable presses-"
Leif looks towards the nearby leatherworking, tannery, fabric and clothing worker shops. "-to carving, embossing, laser etching, moulding and stamping technologies. Everything is up to code to your rulebook as well." He sounded proud with that.
"Thank you for making sure, brother." Heath chose to call him this back, showing his characteristic smile yet again. "Better start getting used to it then. They should be by the next material delivery for more fabric. We will wait by their shop." Which they do, taking a few minutes with a spare Auto carrying the bundles through beside them. The sister who wears an apron that is dried with oils swaggers in front while guiding the golem. Her mouth and eyebrows move in opposite directions, not expecting the Clan Leader's son there.
She looks beside him, now also recognising Heath, the one who created this realm, she slaps her temples to calm herself down before continuing to walk up to them, then taking a knee. "I greet the Clan Leader's son and the scientist God Heath Dollen." She looks up.
"Healthy and happy (Heil og sæl,) arise now, for there is much to talk about." Leif opens the door behind him. "May we come in?" He asks. "Of course, Mǫl will bring over the tea once we set down the materials." She got a side eye from Heath. 'Did she seriously name her Auto 'pebble'?' He felt close to snorting from that discovery. They go upstairs where they see the three-bed combo in a single room off to one side, a whole open-plan lounge, kitchen and dining room create an expansive view of the entire area for working if necessary and. . .
The bathroom and workstations are in the opposite corners that are not covered by the stairs. It appeared clustered and full of possible pieces using their fabric upon concrete torsos. It appeared quite well managed. "Where is your sister and brother?" Leif quizzes.
"By the stone masonry shop to ask for more torsos, we need female versions if we wish to create dresses." She looks to Heath now. "And it is perfect to see you healthy after that great battle. I hope you are not too uncomfortable." Her head tilts in a show of modesty. "Of course I am, and thank you for having us. And may I say, I love your hairstyle, is that natural?" Heath sees the incredibly frizzy knot-bun gives her a more modern artist look, some of the clumps of hair having notes of silvery grey even when young, giving an accentuating shine.
"Thank you! Yes, it is natural. I keep it in this form so it does not interfere with work." She reaches into the nearby kitchen cabinets to prepare some cordials for drinks. "Is mixed berry alright?" She grabs large glasses in the meantime. "Yes, please." "Of course." They each say.
"Do hair nets not work with you?" Heath asks, hoping not to come off as rude. "Their friction against my skin and sweat builds up pimples and removes the powder I wear." She says so while pouring the last drink and bringing them all over on a tray. "And what can I aid your troubles with, a big order of clothing? You have worn that pair of clothes for over a week now." She stared into Heath's eyes, which he shakes his head with. "I am keeping these on and maintaining them with my magic, but what we are here for is big." Heath pauses.
Leif finishes the sentence for him. "We are here to ask you for your artistic experience, to paint the walls of this entire floor while Heath plants in the flowery greens above." He pictures for her such a scene. "What sort of art would you wish for, my lord?"
Heath, knowing he is allowed to use magic, shows her part of the design: A landscape of incredible hills and valleys 'behind' log tree posts that hold up the vines as the pictural design. It showed an almost 3D perspective that utilised near-microscopic plating, arranged in half-hexagons to sell the illusion. "We will provide you with as many golems as you will need. Your imagination is crucial to think up the landscapes for this grand mural." He intones, and all of this information caused a minor brain crash upon this sister named Ægileif.
"I should better talk with Jarðrúðr, this is something she may further help us with while Alfárn deals with the customer's orders." She swigs down the mixed berry that is made quite concentrated for herself before they continue saying pleasantries.
"Ah, they are back, I can hear their footsteps downstairs." She walks out, Heath and Leif realising she can easily distinguish them from the crowd due to her experience.