*Nika POV*
*Location: Midgard, Denmark(Baltic Coat) (Future)*
*Year: 4285 (Nika, 15 years Old)*
During the last ten years of my life, I still smiled although my grin wasn't as wide as before, not because I wasn't happy. Nope, my mouth was just starting to become sore and I mean really sore, so I had to stop that habit. During that time, I began my learning of this world's magicks, as my parents called it, and how to use a sword/spear, the basics at least. My mother, Rigna, taught me well in regards to magicks, specifically regarding nature and the weather.
How to spot good weather and how to influence it just enough to go the way you want it to. Although she did say that my own magick was a bit...odd, centering more around the sky and sun for some reason, but she still taught me as best as she could. Mostly the basic stuff, like how to heal basic physical wounds, how to somewhat control the weather, and basic control over plant life.
My father, Villr, taught me how to wield a sword and shield at first, teaching me the basics as he himself was more adept in spear arts. He taught me how to look for signs of strikes, how even experienced warriors/hunters can reveal where they are going to strike regardless of if they wanted you to know, alongside this, he also taught me how to swing my blade, how to twist my feet and how important footwork was to fighting.
He also taught me that it was a mistake not to firmly plant your feet on the ground, as a stronger or even a weaker opponent could push you back, giving them an advantage. Yeah, that lesson was taught to me...many, many times, and my behind was either covered in mud, bruises, or both, most of the time both. It was always fun, though. I liked learning more about how to wield weaponry and how to fight both like a hunter and a warrior. It was a new experience, so of course it was fun, to me at least.
Although I think he had the most fun teaching me how to wield a spear, something he said that was easy to use but far harder to master than a sword. He taught me day and night, making sure I had mastered the basics before moving to more advanced techniques, which alone I think took four years alongside the training my mother had given me. He taught me how to properly defend both with and without a shield, although eng perfectly honest, I kinda preferred free form better. I liked the extra freedom I had, and honestly, I think Dad saw I did too, so he concentrated more on that.
He taught me his own magicks as well, how he had enchanted his weapons to be fierce and powerful, how he blessed them to have it strike too. However, one thing both my mother and father agreed on when it came to the differences between magicks and magic, as the mortals call it, is the chaos of the old. I think a week after my tenth nameday or birthday, as I call it, I asked them how they knew magick and why they didn't want to teach me magic instead.
"Magic is of mortal mind and hand to wield, to be used, and while the gods can use it, the old ways, the ways of the primordial Ymir and his companion Audhumla, a primordial cow as most would call it, even though both were so much more."
"While the Aesir, the clan...I once hailed from used mainly magic, which did not mean we lost sight of the old ways. Odin and his brothers used it as well, although you don't really hear much about the other two anymore for some reason."
"Either way, I was like that too until your mother taught me the old ways, magicks as she hailed from the Vanir tribe who were of the old ways and preferred that over magic."
My mother had something similar to say on that subject as well, only it had more to do with me.
"You were born of two beings, the Aesir gods who represent the new world and new ways, and the Vanir, those who represent the old world and the old ways like magicks."
"We found out about you through the misfirings of the magicks we cast or enchanted on a mortal's weapons, in a way the old magicks give signs of things to come or things that are or already happened."
"Yet you, my little Nika, you are a being who represents both, and I wish for you to look at me and to look at your father."
When she said that, my confused ten-year-old self did, and I noticed that both of them were... growing old, far older than what a god should be. I also took note of my mother's growing hunch and my father's thinning body, something I never noticed before for some reason but couldn't help but see now.
"We are gods without domains, even if the humans rename us, worship us to a degree, we age and soon we will die, leaving you behind."
"So we will teach you everything you need to know, every tool you will need to travel across this world."
I was surprised at the time, but both merely smiled as she continued speaking.
"We've known for a long time that your place would not be with us, well, not for long anyway, just till your training was done."
"Both of us knew that you were like the sun streaking across the sky from one side to the next, and all over again until you traveled through it all."
"So we teach you the old magicks so that nature may welcome you wherever you go, and whatever you encounter, and don't worry, your father will teach a few of his own magic tricks in time."
"For now, though, we will teach you magicks until you've mastered the basics enough to begin finding your own way."
I mastered the basics of the magicks my mother taught when I was twelve, and with that, my mother was able to rest. I could see the weight in her eyes, the weight of time and a life that was fleeting. Gods without a domain gained worshippers from the collective faith of humanity, for the Norse gods at least, while it did not nurture them or anything of the sort, it did give them a little boost to their power. Alongside this, the apples of Idun helped keep them young, keep them fresh, and in fighting shape, should the final war or any war ever come.
Right now, I was seeing the effects of this, the aging body and weakening of power through time, and the lack of faith to help bolster them, to give them an extra edge. During the last three years so far, my father spent less time on weapons training unless I asked for it, although he was getting slower and more sluggish, and both of my parents were getting weaker over time.
When my father taught me magic, it was an...interesting experience; it felt like I was wielding a more refined blade, and yet it did not feel as strong, simply more controllable. It was interesting to see the differences between magic and magicks, the wonders both could accomplish, and the things they could accomplish, both the good and the bad.
When my fifteenth nameday came, I saw my father collapse, weakened from time and from his teachings. We were outside our nice hut, and it was snowing a tiny bit, not a lot, but enough to cover the trees and ground in white. He was teaching me the final bit of basics for elemental magic, which was derived from nature magicks itself, but far weakened and far more usable.
His knees gave out and he fell into the snow, nearly falling face first into but I was able to catch him at the last minute. Slowly, I made my way inside and allowed him to rest alongside my mother, and while I still smiled, it was no longer to my benefit but to theirs, after all, I knew what was happening. My mother and father may be gods; however, like all things, they would die eventually, and right now it was becoming clear that their time was coming.
As they lay side by side, I could see their faint smiles, their bodies still growing visibly older even now as they rested. I held onto both of their hands, not wanting to let go of them, my smile still on my face, but my eyes...my eyes were full of tears as I cried at the side of their bed, and as they rested they both grabbed my face making me look them in the eyes as they smiled.
"Look at you, my son, already such a handsome young man, all ready to see the world with open eyes and wonder." My mother said her voice was straining and taking all her strength to speak.
"Indeed, look at my boy all grown, already outpacing in his own man in the art of weaponry, and soon enough in magic if he keeps practicing." My father said a bit stronger than my mother, only recently collapsing, but the signs of his weakening body were there.
"We have but one final lesson to teach you, my son, before you go out into the world, one thing you need to learn above all else." Both my mother and father said almost at the exact same time.
"Life is not kind." My mother said.
"But neither is death, even if it seems that way." My father said next.
It would continue like this until...the end.
"Both can take many things away from you, but there is one thing that is kind no matter what form it takes, even if it is false."
"Hope, hope for a better tomorrow and that the future will be better than the past."
"That is why hope is kind, so please, son, smile for us, smile for the idea of a better tomorrow and the hope that things can always be better." Both of them said, with a strength and conviction I haven't seen in a long time.
I then felt their grip on my hands tightening, the last of their strength about to leave their bodies, as age was quickly catching up rapidly.
"So please smile for me, your mother, who was once named Rømme, now named Rigda by the humans, and these are the only things I ask of you to remember me by, my kindness and my love for nature, alongside my teachings and the names gifted to me by the Vanir and the humans who lived near us." With that, the last of my mother's strength left, her body withering rapidly and leaving behind only a single seed.
Then my father spoke up, tears in his eyes, even as he smiled, gazing at me.
"Then, for me, remember to always hope for a better tomorrow and to fight for it if you need to, to remember my name, and remember my love for the animals of this land. The names the Aesir have given me is Níð, and the names humans have given me is Villr. Remember my teaching in the art of war, of weapons, and of my own magic, so please remember to smile for both of us, for the two fools who loved you." Then his body began to shrivel up and decay, turning to dust, leaving behind a single knife alongside the seed that once was my mother.
Taking both in my hands, I cradled them and with a smile on my face and tears in my eyes, I took them outside, burying the seed. I then stabbed the knife near it, so that whatever plant grew here would do so around it, and I then stood over them for I don't know how long, allowing the grief and sadness to flow over me, and as my tears touched the ground, I thought I saw small sillhoutes of my parents layign side by the side, just as the seed and knife now did.