Page 33 of The Last Daughter

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He shook his head and finally met her stare. “Alfheim used to be a bright, beautiful realm. The elves lived and reigned there for centuries using the Light to source their magic. It was a harmonious relationship between the elves and the land, and the dwarves lived beneath the mountains in their own realm of Svartalfheim. A parallel, yet slightly darker world mirroring the one above it. All in the fae realms prospered during what was known as the Golden Age. Until the rise of Gullveig.”

“Gullveig? You mean the seeress?”

“She is a witch,” Vali spat. “She was one of the Vanir who discovered a dark magic calledsedir.”

Ailsa’s memory triggered at the word. “I know of sedir. There were seers who came to Drakame and claimed they could practice dark magic. The last one was named Jomeer and my father had her burned before she could taint our lands with her darkness.”

The elfin nodded. “Yes, he was wise to burn her. Sedir is not evil on its own, but it can be used to both tell and shape the future. There is a kind of knowledge in its power that was forbidden by nature long ago, and those who practice sedir must be careful of how far they dwell into its secrets.

“Being one of the Vanir, she taught them her magic, which is consequently how Freya became a seeress herself. But when Odin heard of this power, of this forbidden knowledge that could be used to change the rules of fate and time, it greatly appealed to him. He took the witch while she was traveling between realms and brought her to Asgard.

“While she was there, he tried everything to get her to find a way to save his son Baldur, but the witch refused. For changing the future was easier than rewriting the past, and it could threaten the very fabric of the universe if she attempted such a thing. Odin in his fury burned her, but she would not die. He burned her three times and three times she rose from the ashes, but after the third time, her power was gone.”

Ailsa squirmed, realizing where this story was heading. “And where did her power go?” she asked.

Vali shrugged. “No one knew. She claimed it was lost, but the gods knew better. They believed Gullveig had hidden it somewhere, tethered it to something until this world ended and the old gods fell. Only then will she be safe from Odin and free to use her power again.”

Ailsa chewed on her bottom lip, mulling over every detail and carving each one into her memory. Before she could inquire for more, Vali gestured to a dent he had padded into the earth, his hand outstretched over the hole, pulling water from the soil and into the formed basin.

“Thirsty?” he asked.

She nodded enthusiastically. Her hands were about to dip in the clear water before she hesitated. “You go first,” she said.

“Are you afraid it's poisoned or something? I can assure you I would’ve tried that before my monologue.”

Her expression soured. “No, I was just trying to be nice.”

His mouth twitched into a smirk. “I don’t believe you. Drink, Ailsa.”

She rolled her eyes but complied, not hiding the sighs of pleasure that escaped her as the cool water slipped down her parched throat. Each time she dipped her hands into the basin, Vali filled it to replace what she took.

“You don’t suppose you could make a hole big enough for a bath, do you?” she asked as he drank his own fill. He paused mid-sip to stare at her like she had grown a second head. “I’m joking!” she said, laughing at her own humor. “Well, sort of.”

He licked his lips and thought for a moment. His eyes carefully roaming over the tattered bits of her dress and the blood and dirt caked into her skin. He then tore off his own shirt, revealing the runes painted across his chest that Ailsa remembered well. She subsequently recalled what his bones felt like beneath her fingers, the warmth of his muscles against her palm. The sound of ripping fabric distracted her thoughts from running wild.

“What are you doing?”

He dipped one of the pieces of cloth into the water and held it out to her. She took it tentatively from his hands. “For you to wash,” he said.

“You didn’t have to destroy your shirt over it; honestly I was jesting.”

“I’m not. You look terrible. It will do us both a favor.”

She threw the soaked cloth at his head, nailing him in the ear. “Ass.”

He peeled it from his face, his expression delighted by her reaction. “Don’t be ungrateful,” he said, tossing it back.

This time she kept the cloth, using a dry piece of his shirt to wipe the dampness once she had cleaned. She used their drinking bowl to rinse her face and her hands, turning the clear water a rusty color.

Vali leaned his head back as she washed herself, the firelight warmed his pale skin and danced along the symbols brushed across his chest and down his arms. She was caught by the sculpted planes of his chest, how his muscles tensed and relaxed with every breath, emphasizing the deep striations carved into the side of his ribs. They were so well defined she could count them, but instead followed the dark hair dusting his abdomen, a thin trail leading beneath his belt, the ridge pressing against his pants. He was exquisitely proportioned, a perfect combination of muscle and man.

“And now you will be shirtless the rest of our journey,” she observed out loud.

He opened his eyes and peered over at her. “Does this offend you?”

Ailsa thought for a moment about her reply. There were a hundred different ways she could approach this question, like it was a test he was giving her. She let her gaze fall back to the basin as she dried her hands, cocking a shoulder passively while she said, “It does not.”

She noticed the elfin smile out of the corner of her eye. “Would you like me to fix your dress as well? I’m not good at tailoring, but it will help keep your legs covered.”


Tags: Alexis L. Menard Fantasy