Chapter 40

Day 91-92 / Unknown / Day 140 continued:

Shouldering their way through the crowd of standing death made Veronyka’s skin crawl and her stomach heave. The stench was awful, clogging her nose with its eye-watering pungency. Bits of desiccated skin, scraped off by the rough exterior on their armor, clung until scraped off by yet more decaying flesh. The wet smack of still-damp tissues hitting the ground, and liquid squishing as their boots crushed the bio-litter underfoot were enough to make Veronyka gag.

“Ugh.” She forced herself to swallow, and not vomit.

The others were nothing if not practical. A bottle of scented oil was produced, the same type that the healer had used to massage her for these many weeks. Raiginlef first, then passed around to end up with Veronyka. She had to strip off a gauntlet to apply it, but once her nose and mouth had a thin coat around the openings, the smell brought instant relief.

“Foreign contaminant detected.” Fryja’s voice whispered. “Rated non-toxic. Initiate purification?”

Figuring that it couldn’t hurt, she whispered back, “Yes.”

A faint breeze blew across her face. Over the next few minutes, the oil dried out completely and its odor-masking scent vanished. But the unwanted putrid one didn’t come back.

Her helmet was fantastic! She experimented with it, and found that the ‘purification’ was voice activated, blocking outside odors within seconds. But if turned off, immediately a whiff would assault her nose. She tried talking to the voice, asking questions, and randomly giving commands. None of them worked. She got no replies, and none of the commands seemed to activate anything further.

After trudging up the stairs for a long time, bumping into fetid bodies as they slipped through, they finally reached the end of the throng. Their path beyond was free of obstructions, humanoid and otherwise.

“It seems these creatures act as herd animals do.” Hrund remarked.

“Herja, scout ahead for a camp site.” Brunhyldar instructed. “This day has been long, and we would be wise to get rest before attempting the Halls.”

It was another half-hour’s walk before they found a landing that was wider on one side than the stairs, forming a small pocket they could use. With nothing to burn, it was a cold camp, but nothing more uncomfortable than a stone floor.

“You should let your mount out now.” The Squadron Leader recommended. “There is enough space here, and she will get better rest if she is not restricted.”

Raiginlef laughed. “And her body will give us a little warmth.”

The other two Valkyries laughed as well. Veronyka did as suggested, receiving a grateful snort from Ream’ch before the dragon curled up like a cat, forming a barrier between their small void and the rest of the stairway. Her radiated heat quickly warmed the air as bedrolls were laid out.

“I will stand the first watch.” Brunhyldar declared. “You are all more tired than I, that much is clear from your faces. Veronyka, you will be next. Who will take third?”

Herja and Hrund played a Valkyrie version of Roshambo, which had five possible hand shapes, and a complex what-beats-what system that allowed an entire squad of ten to quickly whittle down a winner. Watching the two women go through the familiar motions gave Veronyka a comforted feeling. Randgyrd had enjoyed being in the field with her sisters.

Hrund took the watch after Veronyka’s, and though she offered, the others refused Raiginlef’s offer to take a turn.

“In the field, warriors stand watch.” Brunhyldar quoted. “Sister, we are on campaign now.”

Raiginlef smiled at the group. “It’s been a while, for me.”

“Too busy ‘campaigning’ with the Dwimar.” Hrund quipped.

Raiginlef’s horrified expression made the others all laugh, though Veronyka and Brunhyldar’s were forced.

“I ... don’t know why that was funny.” Veronyka admitted, still chuckling. “Why was that funny?”

Raiginlef’s expression turned stricken.

Hrund held out her hands in supplication. “I am sorry sister, it was merely a joke. We know your affection for the deep dwellers and their skill. I forgot that our sister fell before we learned what the Prince of Lies did to them.”

“It is all right.” Raiginlef replied. “Campaign camp is not hearth and home. It is not a place for soft sentiment.”

She turned to Veronyka with a grim look. “Even after he drove the dwarves underground, the Powry clan raids wreaked havoc on the Prince’s forces for many years. They were equipped with the best weapons Dwimar and Dvergyr could create, far superior to anything humans could make. So, the Prince created a disease which removed all the dwarf women. Even before the dragons’ Arrival there were Fey with the knowledge who might have helped, and been willing to do so, given their mutual hatred of the Liar. But the plague swept through the dwarven settlements just before the Arrival, and contact between the two races was lost for many years.”

“When they at last returned to the surface, everything had changed. Their hatred for orcs runs deep, for those cruel butchers committed many atrocities during the pogroms against them. Humans and the Mer-People are viewed as cowards, pitied and despised because they did not revolt as the dwarves did against the Liar’s enslavement. Only the Fey are treated well, as long-standing allies in their rebellion.”

“But isn’t there a Dwimar city, the one you took John to visit, deep below Valkyrie-Home?” Veronyka wondered.

“There is, and many others. Entire nations of dwarves, farther south.” Raiginlef confirmed.

“But no disease is perfect, at least not in my world.” Veronyka insisted. “There are always a small number who have immunity for one reason or another. And if it was somehow able to truly wipe them out, how do they now reproduce?”

“Everything you say is true here as well, from what we have seen.” Raiginlef agreed. “But this was an insidious sickness. It killed no one directly. Instead it attacked the birthing cycle. In some women, it caused permanent infertility. Others now found child-bearing to be either fatal or nearly so. And all born after the mother becomes infected are male. It even made the male dwarves either sterile or incompatible with the other races.”

“Incompatible how?” Veronyka asked. “I seem to remember that any intelligent race can breed with the others, even if it’s difficult and painful.”

“You remember correctly.” Raiginlef confirmed. “But now receiving a male dwarf causes everything from pain, as though a woman had eaten something rotten or poisonous, to a slow, painful death. The last is common from the Powry, who use it cruelly on any women they capture.”

“That’s awful!” Veronyka scowled. “Then how do they not die out? Aren’t they shorter-lived than the other races?”

“Indeed,” the artificer nodded, “but they are nothing if not cunning enchanters. They have created an enchantment of some kind, which allows certain males to become female long enough to bear a child. I believe this enchantment only works a certain way, with certain individuals, but even now, after my long years working with them they will not speak of their solution. I know it involves a pairing, for that I have observed, but asking anything more turns quickly to violence.”

“Note to self: don’t ask the dwarves about sex.” Veronyka mimed writing.

The others laughed again.

“Indeed, sister, indeed!” Raiginlef finally smiled.

The reached the ice wall and Wotaanz the following day. The two worgh by his side looked more solid, and bigger than she remembered from watching through John’s eyes. The ghost noticed her scrutiny, even commenting on it after welcoming them.

“Brunhyldar, welcome!” The man exclaimed, rushing halfway down the last flight to hug the Squadron Leader.

They could hug him back as well, it seemed. Even Veronyka, who he greeted as Randgyrd felt a solidity to his form at odds with his translucence.

“I’m not actually your daughter,” she whispered in his ear, “not really.”

“I know,” she could hear his smile, “but you carry part of her, and that is good enough for me.”

“Do you like them?” Wotaanz gestured at his worgh. “I am experimenting, trying to do the same thing my wife did with her mount. A friend of your daughter’s, Brunhyldar, gave me them.”

“My daughter?” Brunhyldar asked. “Do you mean Sygraid, and Jyon?”

“I do. I see you have kept watch on them. How do they fare? When last I saw either, they faced great difficulty.”

“They completed their trek to the Raider city called Final Harbor.” Brunhyldar reported. “Those who survived with them have settled in that place.”

Raiginlef stared at the Squadron Leader. “He has become a Raider? Why didn’t you tell me? You allowed this?”

Brunhyldar shook her head. “He has done no raids that we have seen. Indeed, his first meeting with them killed the King of Final Harbor. He has reached an accord with the new King, though I do not know its details save that all the refugees have settled in that town.”

“You should have informed me! You know of my interest.” Raiginlef accused.

“I do know of it. That is why I have said nothing before now. The Raiders are a dishonored people, the embargo upon Considering them remains. Please do not violate the council’s dictates.”

Raiginlef scowled. “Watching is not forbidden. I may do that if I please.”

“Only watching.” Brunhyldar reiterated.

“Only watching.” Raiginlef repeated.

Wotaanz laughed. “I see that my daughters haven’t changed! Brunhyldar, ever the bossy one. Raiginlef, always curious. I am gladdened to hear that Sygraid and John fare well. I have high hopes for them.”

Brunhyldar frowned. “How well they fare, in the Raiders’ notorious care, I know and care not. We are here for a different purpose.”

“And what purpose is that? Do you plan to Challenge, as some of your sisters have, now that the Nords have proven successful at it?” Wotaanz wondered.

“If we must.” Brunhyldar spoke over Raiginlef’s simple: “Yes.”

“We are after Sangrydr as well.” She continued. “No longer contented with her banishment, she has now subverted an un-blooded daughter, and killed two sisters. I take no pleasure in saying it, but she must die.”

Wotaanz frowned. “This is dire news. Has she really fallen so far? How has it come to this?”

“I know not.” Brunhyldar admitted. “The young woman she pretended to befriend told us she has altered her appearance in some way. She thought Sangrydr old, feeble, blind and unconnected to us. Has my sister passed by here? Or any woman at all in the last day or two?”

Wotaanz was silent for several long minutes.

“A father dreads being placed between quarreling children.” He finally replied. “But you would continue on even if I told you ‘no’, so any answer I give will have the same result. Yes, she came through, almost exactly one day ago. I know that she is disgraced from your company, but she told me it was for love. Who am I to judge her for following her heart? Did not my doing so give me all of you?”

“For love!” Hrund spat. “She told you it was for love? It was not, unless you mean her love of slaughter! She found the orc warlord fascinating only because he was the most brutal, war-mongering leader in the entire North! She deserted him just as quickly as she saved him, when his son struck him down.”

Wotaanz held up a hand. “She loved battle, this is true. But so did you, just as much if you recall. I think your hate colors your memory of that time.”

Hrund crossed her arms and raised her chin. “Even if I am the last Valkyrie left, and must give my life in the effort, I shall do so gladly to strike her down. This I swear.”

Wotaanz looked stricken. “Please, do not let what she has done tear you all apart. I beg you, stay true to our cause.”

Brunhyldar bowed. “We shall stay true. This I do swear. But we come seeking to turn some of the dragon’s power against her, in service to that cause. I was to be the first who Challenged, but after the mystery of our reborn sister surfaced, others have stepped forward while I am constrained. I see to rectify, set an example, and hopefully break the two for one curse that strikes down those attempting.”

“I applaud you for leading by example.” Wotaanz approved. “And for not begrudging your sisters who were unwilling to wait when you could not try right away. But what is this curse you speak of?”

“Jyon said that when he did the Challenge, the dragon was surprised none of his companions perished in the attempt. She told him that only one in three complete it. Five of our sisters have returned victorious, while nine have perished trying. Even we, it seems are not immune to this ratio.” Brunhyldar explained.

“And the five?” Wotaanz asked. “Has their sisters’ sacrifice been worth it?”

“Aye!” Herja growled.

Brunhyldar pointed at her aide. “They all wield the dragon’s own power as their own, and possess gifts, both of the body and weapons which exceed our own. But if we must lose two thirds of our number to gain them, we shall have to bear children more often as well.”

“Even a father such as I am gladdened to hear that.” Wotaanz smiled.

“May we pass?” Brunhyldar inquired. “I see the inscription, and recognize your words. Are we to be tested?”

“You may.” Wotaanz answered, indicating their helmets. “Your honor is plain for all to see. I regret that your disgraced sister fooled me, and vow to be more careful in the future. But tell me, Randgyrd, why does your armor resemble my wife’s rather than your sisters’? Is this why the Seer requests your presence?”

“Which Seer?” Raiginlef broke in. “The one who gave you True Sight?”

“That very one.” Wotaanz admitted. “He asks that ‘the one who died, and is reborn as another’ pass through the tear and confer with him. I can See that it is this sister whom he means.”

Raiginlef stepped closer to the ghost. “You have long said that should we pass into the chaos realm, we will not be able to return without it destroying us. Is that a lie?”

Wotaanz spread his hands. “In all my time since returning with your mother, four of your sisters have returned. Three of them perished in the attempt to return. All torn apart by the attempt. I do not believe it is a lie. The Seer assures me that if I send the correct one, and my Sight tells me she is who I seek, she will quote: ‘return to the very spot from which you watch her go, a moment after departing and unharmed’.”

“How?” Raiginlef pressed.

“My knowledge on this matter does not exceed your own now. But never has anything the Seer said been proven false. I believe he would not make this instance his first one.” Wotaanz assured her.

“So, you want me to do what, exactly?” Veronyka’s heart was pounding. “Go in and somehow travel to the world Fryja is from, then come back? How?”

“If you go, and stand directly on the crack above the Tear, I believe the Seer will do the rest. But I ask again, before you go will you please tell me how you come to wear armor like Fryja’s?” Wotaanz begged.

So, Veronyka gave him an abbreviated version of her recent adventures with the Network and Fryja. She neglected to mention Fryja’s comments regarding their ‘marriage’, but did stress what she’d said about their reunion should he successfully complete his task. His smile was radiant at her retelling.

“A Technomancer? This was what you heard? Truly?” He asked, when she was done.

“I’m pretty sure.” Veronyka hedged. “I wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind at that point, but I think so. Plus, this helmet she gave me does some amazing things.”

She held up her helm.

“Like what?” He asked, plainly curious.

“So far, I’ve had it uh, let me see something far away like it was much closer. And it uh, cleaned the air I was breathing, when the smell of the undead got too bad.” She elaborated.

“Is that why you were whispering to yourself while we walked?” Raiginlef asked.

“Yeah.” Veronyka admitted.

“Fascinating. What else does it do?” The artificer reached for it.

“Nothing, as far as I can tell.” Veronyka handed the helmet to her. “It won’t even answer me back, but I swear it talked to me before doing the air cleaning thing.”

When Raiginlef accepted the armor piece, as soon as Veronyka let go it changed. The blinking red wings on the side winked out, and blue ones appeared in their place. These blinked more quickly, speeding up until a flash nearly blinded them. When their vision cleared, a normal blue-winged Valkyrie helmet was in her hand.

“W—what does this mean?” Raiginlef breathed, staring.

No one said a word. She looked up, seeking each woman’s eyes, but only got helpless shrugs or head shakes in return. Except Wotaanz, who smiled and winked before shaking his head to indicate he had nothing further to add.

But Veronyka saw his action as well, and stepped towards him.

“What does it mean? Do you know what happened to me?” She pressed.

“I do not know what it means, truly.” He protested. “My wife was very secretive regarding her abilities. Many times, I saw things I would have called impossible, yet she did them as though they meant nothing. I am not one part in ten the warrior she was, and know nothing of the powers wielded by those from her world. She called herself that, once. A Technomancer, from the See-bar-pu-unq House, she said. I still remember, because I never could pronounce the house name correctly, no matter how many times she corrected me. She told me almost nothing about what it meant, save to correct my mistaken belief that this house was the abode where her family resided. She said it was like unto a guild, as some craftsman have, though with both greater freedom and more obligations. I asked her many times, curious of her past, but secrecy seems to be one of those more strict obligations.”

Veronyka blinked. The word sounded so familiar to one from her teen years. It couldn’t be, could it? She’d had only one boyfriend before leaving home, and they stayed together for as long as they did because he’d happily keep himself entertained while she spent hours studying. They used to sit in her bed, leaning shoulder to shoulder while surrounded by text books. He would read all kind of books, but never anything non-fiction. It was why they broke up when she went away, he was too lazy, and she was too driven. One of his favorite genres was science fiction, which she found boring. They never got the science right, at all.

Veronyka licked her lips and used the English word. “Did she call it ‘Cyberpunk House’ by any chance?”

Wotaanz’s jaw dropped. “You say it the way she did! Yes, that is how she pronounced it. How do you know? Is this a thing from your world?”

She put her hand over her face and rubbed her eyes. She’d voluntarily given up all the medical know-how she spent over a decade accumulating, which seemed to have sharpened her memories from before starting med school. Now her refusal to even glance at one of her first boyfriend’s ridiculous novels meant she knew nothing more than the name. Talk about irony.

“It is an ... idea in my world. Not something real. How it applies here, I have no idea.” She spread her hands helplessly.

“What kind of idea is it then?” He dug.

“I don’t know, okay?” She looked away. “It wasn’t important to me at the time, so I never found out any more information.”

“Do not fret.” He soothed. “Though the Seer is not of her house, perhaps he will know more. Do you not agree?”

Resigned, she held her hand out to Raiginlef, and had to snap her fingers to get the woman’s attention. The artificer reluctantly handed it back. Another blinding flash, this one immediate, and it was the same full-face with blinking red wing signs again. She jammed it on her head and nodded.

“I’m ready.” Her heart sped up again.

“Then come with me, daughter. I wish you both a safe journey, and more importantly, a safe return.” He gave her a quick hug before pointing at the spot she should stand.

The other Valkyries filed into the room behind her, but stayed as far away from the crack in the floor as they could. Taking a deep breath and swallowing on a dry throat, she took her spot. The blue-white light bathed her for a few seconds, growing brighter until, with a flash she vanished.

“Finally!” A familiar voice echoed from the stairs leading up into the Halls.

A blood-splattered Valkyrie, wearing the most plain version of their normal armor, heavily battle scarred, with a winged helmet stepped into the room. A large white shimmering opal curved just behind her knuckles, from her thumb’s web to the outer edge of her empty left gauntlet. A feudal Japanese-style short sword hilt rested behind her left shoulder, though the Valkyries didn’t recognize it as such. A basketball-sized orb dangled, dripping in a dark-colored net from her right. She tossed the orb across the room at Brunhyldar’s feet.

“I greet you in peace, sisters.” The Valkyrie’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Veronyka found herself standing on a field of grass stretching off into the distance. Mountains jutted up in the distance one way, with forested hills to the other three sides. She couldn’t tell how far away they were, since there wasn’t any other objects to give her perspective. Nearer, the signs of battle were unmistakable. Corpses in various states of completeness were being picked up by people and other beings dressed in white and red. Broad swaths of the grass were burned to a crisp, and earth was splattered around craters which dotted the landscape.

The sky was green, and beyond it another grassy field as well. It could have been a mirror image, except that one showed no signs of war. No people (or beings) at all in fact. She yanked her gaze away, looking at it gave her an instant headache.

Standing in front of her was a figure wearing a garish, full-length pink cowl. Its hood covered its head, and hid its face completely. Folded arms, hands tucked into the opposite sleeve gave it a non-threatening pose. The figure was taller than she was, by several feet, but hunched over, with an odd shape to its shoulders.

“Technomancer.” A voice floated out from the figure, like a whisper carried on a breeze. “You bear no insignia, and only have the war-maiden sigil. From what house do you hail? Whose service do you claim?”

Veronyka started to remove her helmet, then thought better of it.

“I myself don’t have a house, I don’t think. My mother was from uh, Cyberpunk House. And I’m not in anyone’s service right now actually.” It took her a few moments to realize they were speaking English.