Date: Þórri 17th, 598 AD. (Alt: 29th January, 599 AD.) Location: Götaland (Ancient Sweden.)
"-with all of that material and different developments, a flying fortress, to be created greater than the one in your Cavern?" Garmr asks, believing his hearing is stating falsities.
Hearing of the grand weapons platform that is used to hold scalable cannon and gun mounts beside the photovoltaics and turbine systems led to his thinking that it itself was overkill, spilling over to wondrous. But from Heath's high-notes, he now understands much more.
"Yes, I may base the design on 2 of the most powerful warships of my time, the USS Gerald R. Ford and the ROKS Sejong the Great. Combining the best aspects while giving extra firepower below the gunwales of the hull." He completes with a few potential diagrams, showing off hundreds of modifications and modular design initiatives that would eclipse dragons, almost reaching Deity-level in firepower. The many anti-air and automatic gun turrets splintering a view of millions through bullet-transievers through portal conveyor belts.
It would be a flying calamity at the scale few could ever hope to replicate, and with its usage of all the materials previewed beforehand and the usage of celestial bronze as described in Chapter 43 allowed for this to come true and be unaffected by its accelerated life span.
All for the price of Heath's excess soul growth. 'Which I have nowhere near enough.' Heath frowned to himself, the others knowing what he was thinking of from how he described the process of material non-senescence and immortalisation. "You will get there, do not worry." Mother Jǫrð flips her hand in a waving motion, weaving to calm him down. "And Freyja has had thoughts involving ways to help you, besides Iðunn." She takes out a box made of brass, silver outlines covering the edges in thorned patterns.
Heath stared down, touching his nose while getting closer. He opens the box with a calculative risk-taking stance, now finding a small model process made of flesh that was in the likeness of herself, within it being seen with Heath's vision, was a soul-tether.
"She gave me a conduit to her soul?" He quickly puts it down, treating it like the blessed object that it was. "She knows that even if you treat yourself with. . . Certain expectations, you will keep others safer. Her own excess reserves as an Ásynja Goddess of Magic will be yours to use, for she believes it is too sacrosanct to be ignored." Mother Jǫrð disappears the mug in her hand, providing rapt focus to Heath's response. "And in the same way, it is an apology for her uncontrolled dominion over love, that planted itself within you."
Heath snapped up to Mother Jǫrð quip. "No need to say out loud the obvious." He covered his face with his large palm, emotionally blockaded from the sudden change of pace. "I cannot accept this." He closes the box with careful control, pushing it back towards them.
"She, I remember. Never to calm her influential suggestions, Of the minds within those weaker, she had only once in the past. Yet you have changed her." Garmr comments, seated within the sidelines while drinking water of a spring dropping. "You are one, of many surprises." The Wolf extolls now, leading to a sarcastic laugh to come by the tall God. "*Heh*Because the average Æsir are pricks." He slumps into his shoulders, the sudden bite of his words causing sharp inhales of amusement to appear near Mother Jǫrð and Iðunn.
"Agreed." Garmr responded after a final sip, knowing of many of his wolves that have been smited just for existing. "Your ideals and complementary skills have long since paid us, that is the reason she wishes you to have part of her power. It can be regrown, your envisioning would not, for far long after Ragnarǫk." She saw him stumble over himself.
"One only gives part of their soul, their very essence, long after trust is gained in our realm. It takes years, decades. It has only been a MONTH!" Heath lowered his head into his hands, for why are those of this realm so quick to trust?! "Except, you cannot see souls in yours, we do here." Garmr responds, seeing his point of view. His voice ancient and full of solace. "Take it, Heath. As the same for my child, we know you will care for them well." Iðunn patted his arm, letting go and leading through towards pushing it back.
"Before this, I have an off-topic question." Heath fell to a habit of diversion. "How had you made Thyra so strong? I am trying to supplement our own with tools and armour, but she was able to hold me back." Heath saw Iðunn still in frozen contemplation on the best way to word it.
"The. . . Power of the Golden Apples can be diluted, made edible for mennskr, a pure jump will easily kill a normal creature. But if fed over many winters, it can be finished. We have been feeding her since we reared her while young." Her explanation earned a nod from Heath. "So you have essentially made a Demi-Vanir." Heath's combination of Roman and Norse terms sounded nonsensical, but was endurable by all in the table. "Yes, one of no concept." Garmr succinctly said in the end.
"Beside that, I was planning of editing their entire genome, possibly creating a biocybernetic magically absorbing stomach that would not be rejected by the body. But I was worried of the risks and of the ethics of it." Heath saw their eyes gain a tinge of perplexion.
"That is a good idea, and you are a God, could you not will it as we can ours?" Iðunn's question was reasonable, and Heath gave his example as to his worries. "My philosophy is to create redundancies for everything, batteries to store magic charge, extra parts that can be hybridised with other sources. I have no way to compartmentalise, to make efficient with my will, such a technology that could last in magic-less environments. Exemplary of those beyond the atmosphere, where I may send astronauts as have been done in my home realm."
From Heath's show of forward-thinking, they believed his worries in dwelling, even if slightly paranoid. "Making things optimised in case of failures is good, but you are going overboard, maybe doing both of our examples together may reach the goal you oh so covetted."
Mother Jǫrð helped to ground Heath back to a solution without too much fussing, He may search for the quick fixing answer, but by planning for the future over a period of a spring and summer, it could be achieved with good results. They set up a procedural plan to mass-standardise what they name now the 'Ascension Project.' A simple but self-explanatory title. "But now take it, we knew you were stalling." She says, grabbing the box with her magic and shoving it into his chest.
"*Oof*" He is made to hold it with great care. "Now that we are evening out our projects, do not be agnostic, ask for help." Each of them held similar opinions, and to provide advice to a God less than a century old yet having this much potential? It was par for the course.
"I understand, I thank you all." Heath continued on with his recognition of their efforts, and that they are putting their faith to a total stranger, just the same as the Völsung Clan. "I will not fail." To reach newer, greener pastures. "Then I wait." A new, feminine voice appeared behind him, where he turned around and saw a woman of grey skin and red, serpentine eyes. White shield behind her back. "Sandraudiga?!" Heath was so scared by her appearance that he warped beside Garmr, magic readying upon his fists.
"*Ha*Do not be brash." The Dread shook her hair once to the left while walking forward, hand leaning against her hip while underneath her cape. He knew of her due to the trailers of the show and in the real Germanic myths, a character too mysterious and strong for his liking.
One who personified the road to defeat, and who watches the stains of the sands reddening. "Are you not meant to be down south with the others of the Southern Pantheon? Burorina, Vagdavercustis, Viradectis, Hludana, Hurstærga, Nehalennia, Seneucaega and the like? ˢᵀᴼᴾ." He tries to lurch away while causing a bombarding with information to dissuade her, yet that never stopped her. Infact, the naming of the Deities closest to where she had formed made her fasten her pace. He was cornered against a wall, throughout it all, unable to use magic.
"*Eheh* Why are you so close?" He saw her eyes become predatorial, with him now looking towards the others in panic, but they were simply staring, amused? She closed in, her cold, winterly breath playing against his skin and her black lips close to his neck from her height.
"You entertain me~." She takes out a small sæx dagger within a set cloth, placing it upon the box he is still holding to his chest. "For -you-." Darkness swallowed Heath's vision, then returned with her disappearance. His face was still of washed-out colours, staring at every nook and cranny in the room. "Is she always that scary?" Heath asked the others. "Only to new Gods.*Snort*" Garmr's body shook, almost unable to contain his laughter. He opens the cloth with the worry it may be a cursed object, soon seeing a blade made of a light-diffusing bone.
"Quick, it appears to have taken a liking to you." Iðunn states about the dagger, now floating and circling around the room's corner. It had a proto-soul, similar to a Bus golem, it sang to Heath in vibrating pitch, as a hungry pet would to a master for them to be fed.
Where the blade should glint under the light, it does the opposite, darkening and not casting a shadow, it was invisible to normal vision, only appearing through magic. Its edge was nonexistent, paralleling and even surpassing the sharpest setting of his adaptable hilts. Thoughts bounding and rehearsed in Heath's head too many times to count, he stares dumbly towards it, and from the time it took for him to return to the real world, the blade now felt impatient, blade hilt tapping his shoulders gently when doing a quarter rotation.
'Where am I, Ireland? Is this Claíomh Solais?' Heath bitched only to himself, understanding that this blade was calling for blood, he willed part of his intent to form a divine droplet diveted in a fingernail imprinted cut, now running it over the blade and marking it as his own.
It now felt satisfied, sitting upon his side as if magnetised to his waist. "What is going on? Was she. . ?" Heath saw all shake their heads. "No, she was not part of the alliance, but we could not stop her either way." Mother Jǫrð voiced her own frustrations of her comings and goings, trying to clean up the path of fresh blood she treaded through the floor. "It appears she was a messenger for another." Iðunn scans the blade, a telltale sign of its aggressive nature. From the few scans of what manner in soul it , she reached a conclusion.
"It is God bone, of a horn." Her explanation made it feel as if continents clapped around him. "Hel? THE Hel?" He remembered of her appearance in the show, how the ruler of Helheimr would turned from a skin-covered young woman to a skeleton per 'death' cycle.
She must removed one while in her alive state to regrow it in the next. "My day is just getting better, it seems." Heath comments sarcastically, but the dagger jabbed him with its pommel. "Are you currently controlling this, Queen Hel?" Garmr asks with respect, for part of his job was to help protect the gates to her kingdoms. It did not react, seeming to be of its own autonomy. "It seems you will have stories to tell Hábrók of the First Hawks, Garmr." Heath comments, trying to find light in this situation, and the Wolf smirked in fulfilment.
"She will vouchsafe your travels under the Ásynja Oathskeeper Vár with your blood, it appears. Then we better not stall them." Mother Jǫrð raises her hand, moving him through a planar shift and through to Helheimr in a single move.
He is soon brought to a large hallway, fitted in ashen stone of unknown origin, and fossilised bone of the Primordial Ymir's own to hold the false skies. Heath hears the stepping of bare feet, soon turning to a cloaked female who's only visible area being her head and neck. Heath, no matter how stumped he is, chose to show respect. "I greet Queen Hel, granter of this sacred weapon." Heath takes a knee for a second time within this day, were he continued, he would soon earn a discolouration if still mortal.
She quitely stares, expression hidden under a bored veneer. Her eyebrows are slightly upturned. 'Is she pitying me? But why?' Heath kept his head down, but she did not hide her internal emotions from Heath's view. She saw him as a lost soul.
From her staying still for so long, a cycle of death and rebirth came, her face had rot in less than a blink, turned into an aged skull. Then, flesh quickly reknitted and bound over her form again. Normal eyes, but with glowing oceanic irises guiding over his form. She touched his shoulder, raising him and now made to float through towards the river of everflowing blood within the open canopy by the end of a long walk. "I am sorry, but what is this for?" Heath asks, now being let down within the bloody pool.
"The test you were planning for Sigrid to grow, you will do for me?" Heath's question was met with a nod, expecting him to know with her contacts with Mother Jǫrð saying of his foresight. "I am a nobody to you, why?" The power of being similar to The Weeping, being given so freely.
"You are a guest, in my Grain Queendom." The same statement, a skeleton's hand rose beside her by passing her robe's scapular arms, soon plunging him below. Rather than the souls that had died as Heirless or Widowed and those whose dreams were crushed, this time, it is those in the case of Gods who had abandoned them, even when under the highest respects. Their hands touched upon him, his soul searing and made quiet. The blood-brine entered his mouth by the pain, making him instinctively choke from a fear of drowning.
He turned lucid again by the next bubbles' release that rolled up his cheek, remembering he no longer needed to breathe, he closed his mouth, feeling the blood turn his internal structure more crystalline, editing his very body's foundational structure into something more archaic, esoteric.
The hundreds that touched upon him made his soul padded with the multiple lifetimes' worth of lives and memories. His Divine physiology and perfect memory played them as if fresh in their deaths. Yet Heath could not weep, as that is not what they want of a being who now place their reliant confidence within him. Time passes, and he soon resurfaces. "A good guest will be blessed, by The Hopeful." She sees his body, now naked, the clothes having been discarded by the perusing noncorporeal draugr off random insets.
Heath looked down, the red tattooing indentations that covered his body rolling over in a slow vivacity. Their creation an allowance and show that worked together with the sæx dagger, blood forming upon its blade like a creation of Skarlet's from Mortal Kombat.
"How many 'The's are there?" Heath asks, aiming to break the tension of her unblinking stare. "As many as there needs to be." She replied in an echoing, inflected tone. Her mouth finally breaking into a not-frown. She turns, unexpectedly seeing her father Loki coming towards her direction for a familial bonding meetup, and with her knowings of his treatment of newcomers, she makes Heath disappear without a trace. Back to the meeting room again with his clothes in disarray. Heath covers himself up in shame, quickly warping all in order.
"Chaos has hexed me." Heath clenched his jaw due to too many things happening the same day. The others felt the same, with some final apologies and his leaving of their area. He sat down, wandering to his room and looking in a mirror, seeing the patterns in full.
"My strength, what has Hel done?" He is reminded of Kratos' ashes upon his skin, embedding the emotions of the deceased within. Heath could call upon them to reach greater strength, and it appears to be without cost. He must train this power, but if his instincts are to be believed, it would be colossal enough to destroy entire mountain ranges. 'Still less than Þórr.' That earned another jab by the dagger, name now found to be 'Drekkjablóð,' translated to 'Blood drowning.' Something to force the enemies into that cross him, which, for his taste, sounds too close to a tryhard. Third jab in by the dagger, he puts the blade in the closet.
After closing the door, the blade slashes through the door like a coin slot! Resting beside his waist again, the blade made itself point upwards, the hilt facing the opposite direction, showing that it was sulking.
"This will get you nowhere. Give yourself a normal name. You-" Heath's non-stop chattering over the next few minutes slowly dug the sæx dagger's patience enough to reach a consensus: Aghi, meaning 'edge of a sword.' From that, Heath came out of his room after repairing the closet and creating an isolated cavity with magic-resistant materials within an unused part of his chest, designed to hold Freyja's mobile tether. He sets in multiple over-checks, he finds no leakages. So, he leaves it be and is ready to meet with the others again.
Others see the red markings from the openings of the tunic, worried that he may have been injured. He would say that he would talk about it later, but flew through to then find Gorm by his son and daughter-in-law's abode. "A bit of your time, please?" He peeks from the stairs within their home.
"What has happened now?" Gorm looked, knowing that when Heath did that tone, it meant he had been through something troublesome. "You know how I have explained that Sigrid was meant to become part of The Weeping from Hel's challenge?" Heath saw the 3 of them close in on him, walking to the stairway. They see his neck, drenched in living crimson. "Are you hurt?" Sigrid asks, knowing these sorts of incantations take a toll upon the body. "I was, but you know me, I healed quite quickly." Heath gave a tired, wrinkled smile.
"Which sort of dead latched onto you, then?" Leif asks, and Heath then recounts everything that had transpired. *"That tracks."* They say similar sentences with the same meaning. Goldie, Valyria and Sterling heard of this commotion and warped in as quickly as possible.
Sterling was the young, fussiest child in worry about his father. Valyria was staring into the swirling flat plane covering Heath's body with a vengeance, and the golem's silence was due to him acutely scanning its structure to find if it had any defects or negative side effects. All of them saw that in the end, he is fine, and that with the addition of Freyja's energy being given, the trip was more than worth it for this small shot of pain. Heath had many thoughts of Hel, a return sadness for the forced punishment that the Æsir had put her through due to her father's mistakes.
"I wonder why she felt the same for me, however?" He asks himself, and this time the dagger, rather than jabbing, instead slowly circled his waist in a manner of caress. Heath wondered if maybe a facsimile of her emotions was left in this dagger.
'Do NOT tell me Freyja broke my trust again and told her, too.' Heath's anger flared up, eyes turning monochromatic and material swapping between gem-like to light-based in under Model milliseconds. He stopped, forcing them down to calm himself. "*Hu~*" Heath felt the tether within his chest a prodding in slow intervals, and an overflowing emotion by the still structure of this 'doll,' a sense of sorrow and apologetism. 'Leave, I am not ready.' Heath felt all emotions bursting from the source cease and desist. Giving him some space.
To help himself calm, he knew the best way was to tinker. He says his thanks and goodbyes to everyone, that he needed a small break and that if they need him, he will be by the (elemental farm.) Adal is there, his own vision scanning him to see it was a success.
Heath recognised his look. "You knew?" By that question, the furry wiseman nodded. "We saw you were taking too many risks. The only way we knew how to help you was to make you stronger. Freyja and Hel are each linked to you in case you are in danger now." Adal sat down, looking as if there was no other choice. Heath chose to ignore his existence for now, rather than accidentally wail upon him over his own frenzy. He will be planning to make something cute and cuddly, little animal plushies to give the children of the Völsung Clan.
By the cellular agriculturally grown meat, he edits the structure and tensegrity within to then make it closer to leather. From this agricultural leather, he creates a flat roll that is then cut, shaped and altered to then allow it to be blown up full of stuffing of any kind.
He folds in and fuses the first 4 parts into a semi-hemisphere with a hole in the bottom, he creates 2 ears, a small black leather nose with a dimpled texture and he now creates the rest of the body, first the torso, then the quadrupedal legs, then the tail. Then, he uses his power and intent to make the exterior of it grow a thick layer of fuzz to make it soft for kids to play with, leaving areas open with none of that for the interior of the ears. Lastly, two polished stone eyes are put above the newly created snout, appearing as a cute dog.
He creates 2 more, 1 cat and 1 chicken. Now, he sets it to replicate within a newly minted (toy farm.) It works as intended with the examples in stasis, now creating hundreds of replicating copies from the first examples.[1]
Heath now passes all of these plushies to the children and to the few adults who had asked for their own. Finding that they enjoyed the company of this charming little guardian. The few that slept through the day even kept it beside them on their bed shelf, showing that with them having such a high-quality item, they would use it well. This made Heath feel a sense of pride for doing something good for today. Now having a rest, he just sits in the grassy, flowery plains, letting the rest of the day pass by from the overwork.
The moon now bathes him in its splendorous light, the grass swaying beside him and the smell of the flowers helping to build a sense of scale for everything he has done, he closes his senses, letting his soul settle from the stress, giving way to the dream space.
"Hey sigil, do you believe today was a good day?" He asks its structure that has long since been added to his body and soul. Giving a faint green light in show of objective truth.
[1] ᛉ (Protection / Shield / Elk,) ᛇ (Yggdrasil / Yew Tree / Dream Rune,) ᚱ (Horse / Ride / Journey / Thor Rune,) ᛟ (Heritage / Estate Rune,) ᚾ (Need / Hardship Rune,) ᛗ (Man / Human / Self Rune,) ᚠ (Cattle / Livestock / Wealth Rune,) ᛖ (Horse / Twin Forces Rune,) and ᚨ (Odin / Inspiration / Wisdom Rune.)