"What's that supposed to mean?" Maya paced after the witch, shouting, "Hey, I'm talking to you."
The witch, with her arms around her servants' necks, was carried away from Maya and deeper into the cemetery.
Maya stomped ahead louder "I said I'm talking to you!"
"And I said you should leave," the witch spat back, ordering her Draugr to turn around. She pointed with her staff at Maya, controlling the mist to push her backwards with magical force. " Return back home before you regret things. Forget about the Valkyrie."
Mist spewed out from the witch's mouth.
The mist was a tool used in Seidr, old magic practised by witches and bestowed upon them by their patron goddess, Freyja. It would weave through reality like a living spindle, bending perception, altering the laws of nature, and bridging the gap between life and death. Practised witches could revive the dead, mend broken bodies, and cure even the most stubborn ailments.
Powerful, yet limited.
And it showed as Maya waved the mist away from her face like some annoying fume at a disco or concert.
The witch gritted her teeth. Why does it not work on you?
"I'm not leaving without her." Maya persisted, marching undeterred towards the witch. "Where is she?"
The Völva ordered her Draugr to step back. She stared into Maya's resolute blue eyes. There was no magic behind them or anything unique behind her except unending grit.
Even if faced with the might of a powerful witch.
The witch clicked her tongue. "You won't leave without your girlfriend, will you? Fine. Come with me, then."
No need to tell her twice. Maya followed the witch closely, disregarding the zombies as they growled at her, trying to intimidate her. Maya simply growled back, making them back up.
Annoyed, the Völva ordered her servants with a snap of her fingers to quicken their steps. Maya stormed after them.
They soon arrived at a wide clearing, which was strangely free of tombstones but overcrowded with the undead. Maya froze up, her breath hitching at the sight before her.
Val had been bound against a towering slab of stone. Her lithe arms were bound with a golden rope. Wisps of white light whizzed overhead and flickered like restless spirits. They spiralled around her and the pillar, casting eerie shadows across the undead forms.
A grotesque mound of misshapen bones, flesh and cracked tombstones rose from the ground. A haphazard monument constructed by the shuffling Draugr.
The earth seemingly quaked, pulsed. It was as if something beneath was buried and waiting—feasting and hungrily draining Val from her divinity.
"Val!" Maya called out, sharp with worry.
The Valkyrie lifted her head towards her. Visible relief washed over her, only to be replaced by confusion as she yanked against her restraints. She hadn't even realised she was bound until now. Though the more she struggled, the tighter the magical ropes fastened around her wrists.
Maya spun toward the witch, her pulse hammering. "What are you doing to her? What is all this?"
"Power," the witch intoned, sending out a heavy ripple. The Draugr shuddered mid-task. Leaves and branches bend, and Maya never felt so miniscule under so much pressure.
"Valkyries hold an immense reservoir of divinity," she continued, choosing each word wisely. "Fuelled by the Allfather himself, a single drop of her essence could bolster my magic tenfold."
She turned her full attention to Maya, her lips quivering with barely contained frustration. "Do you have any idea how dangerous the world truly is?"
Maya hesitated. "I mean, yeah, the world's dangerous. Between the political hot mess, America's gun violence, and my student fees, I'm more likely to get hit by a speedster or die from undiagnosed cancer or a genetic disease. High blood pressure runs in my mom's family."
"I'm not talking about that!" The witch snapped. Her voice cracked through the cemetery like shattered glass, sending one of the Draugr crumbling into dust. She barely spared it a glance before raising it again with a flick of her wrist, forcing it back to eternal servitude.
Her lips curled and her venom-green eyes flared with unchecked rage. "People like you who live in Midgard—ignorant of the fear of the supernatural—don't understand. There are forces beyond your fickle comprehension, monsters that do not bargain, do not show mercy. Without power, you are nothing. And when you finally realise that… it'll be far too late."
Maya raised her hands defensively. She could have sworn she heard a restrained sob from the Völva as she clutched her thigh.
"I-I won't say I understand how it feels," Maya said carefully, keeping her tone as placatory as she could. "I have a friend who once shared with me how she lost her dream after a freak accident. She was heartbroken. We shared lots of letters, and I kept wishing I could do something to help her—anything to help her."
She glanced at Val, who was still struggling against her restraints but grew weary. The golden ropes seared into her arms and the wisps continuously whisked away at her divinity.
"The world can be cruel, I get that. But making someone else suffer for your own good won't make it any better. You'd just be taking someone important away from me."
"Too bad," the witch replied, her voice flat. "It will make things better, Maya."
Maya tensed at the bitterness of her voice. "How?" she asked warily.
"Power," the witch breathed. "Enough to fight the Giants. For that, I need your Valkyrie."
Maya's stomach clenched. "Why her? She's not even at her full strength. Don't you see?"
She cast another worried glance at Val. The Valkyrie's breaths grew shallow and ragged, and her body jerked every time the white wisps zapped at her skin.
"She doesn't need to be," the witch said. "I'm tapping into her innate divinity. Even diminished, it lingers in the air. With her as a catalyst, I can syphon it into my magic." She paused. The witch glimpsed briefly at Maya, her gaze hidden under the hood. "Though… I don't know what'll happen to her afterward. She may die, or—"
"Don't." Maya pleaded and reached out with her hand. The Draugr stopped her. "Please don't do this to her."
A soft, almost regretful chuckle escaped the witch's lips. She didn't turn around. "Sorry for forcing all this onto you." She held onto her hood, keeping her face hidden. "I hope you liked the tea."
Maya's nose scrunched. "It was awful. But, uh… thanks. It helped my stomach, I guess."
"That's good," the witch murmured. Then, after a long breath, she slipped a hand inside her dress, fingers brushing against the fabric before pulling out a green envelope decorated with a flowery pattern. "I never expected our first meeting to be like this."
Maya stared at the enveloped, brows furrowed in confusion—until realisation dawned on her like a slap to the face. "Fey?"
The witch nodded, bowing her head lightly with the same peculiar grace. "The one and only." She exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. "Again, I'm so sorry about this."
Before Maya could process the full weight of that revelation, Fey flicked her wrist for two Draugr to apprehend Maya. They moved swiftly, but carefully so as to not bruise her.
Maya protested still. "Fey, don't… Please…"
Fey didn't meet her eyes. The Draugr picked her up by the arms as they moved towards the cairn. Pressing her palm against the grave, she whispered her Seidr into the grave. The runes flared, burning with intense green light.
The ground trembled and the wisps sparked.
"Fey, stop!"
Maya pleaded in unison to Val's shouts, but their protests were drowned by the rumbling cemetery.
And Fey—Fey only laughed as she channelled her magic, accepting that there was no turning back.
—ˋˏ✦ˎˊ—
Ok… that was not supposed to happen," thought Fey as her newest creation blasted out of the cairn.
First, the ground split.
Sure, that happens.
Then half of her Draugr got incapacitated from the magic discharge.
Not a problem—I can only control so many at once anyway.
The cairn crumbled and more cracks fissured from the ground.
This is getting a wee bit bad, but no worries. As long as no morecracks appear to disrupt the runes—
The first rune of Fey's magic circle was sparked and imploded. She hastily ordered a Draugr to fix the mess, but it was too late. A chain of destruction unfolded.
The wisps of raw energy that contained the Valkyrie's divinity discharged a violent shockwave. Val's eyes glowed hot white, bobbing in and out of consciousness. Fey almost fell to the ground as one of her Transport-Draugr disintegrated.
Fey crossed her arms in front of her, opened her palms, and steadied her breathing. Green mist coalesced around her fingers, the fine hair on her arms, and her eyelashes. "Raido. Kenaz. Naudiz Seidr!"
The wisps screeched and scalded Fey's skin as all the raw power swirled and zapped around her body. It blew away her hood and revealed her long, curled brown hair and wild green eyes glowing with magic.
I can control it. Fey gritted her teeth, feeling her makeup run down her face from the strain and sweat. I'll control the Valkyrie's power and get my vengeance on the Giants—
A single Draugr finally burst out of its stone grave, sending rocks and shrapnel flying over their heads.
Maya hit the floor, protecting her head, but Fey was less lucky as another of her Transport Draugr disintegrated, shredded to pieces.
"Ah!" Fey yelped as her wrist slammed against the ground and audibly cracked from the impact.
She had tried to cushion her fall somehow, but her last stupid underling just had to crumble in half and throw her off like a startled horse. Fey squirmed on the ground, holding her injured hand as she tried to gather her senses.
The ritual was flawless. I've set up the runes perfectly and checked the summoning beforehand. There shouldn't have been any issue with the flow of energy. Is it the Viking itself?
Dazed, Fey looked up to the new Draugr emerging from the earth. Its earth-shattering cry opened up the ground and tried to dislodge itself from the hole. It was by far her biggest creation yet.
It stood at full size, towering over the trees easily.
A Draugr which was the size of a literal giant.
Fey had to use some tricks and experimenting since there weren't any Viking warriors the size of a two-story building, but she should have been able to control it. She should have.
"Warrior from Hel!" Fey shouted through the pain in her wrist. "Denied of a glorious death and scorned by the Valkyries, I'm your master. My name is Fey, a witch under the goddess Freyja. Obey. Me!"
The Giant Draugr regarded Fey. Its eyes glowing a scathing shade of blue. The damaged armour it wore was rusted, and his grey skin decaying. His snow-white beard danced in the winds like the canopy of a Winter spruce when it made its way to Fey.
She realised too late it wasn't listening to her. "Stop, I said… stop." Fey couldn't run or stand up. Fear overtook her.
It was like last time.
It was a chilly afternoon in her town, like it always was after practice. She was a gymnast who would have been sent to the qualifiers for the Olympics. She knew she deserved it. Unlike everyone else, Fey dieted and trained daily, before and after school.
Her whole life revolved around it.
She didn't need her Seidr magic to improve her chances. Not like she couldn't have. It simply wasn't needed.
Her mother, like her mother and her mother before her, were all witches. Famous witches. Incredible witches. Each attracted the curious gaze of their patron goddess, Freyja, who taught them the secrets of the world.
The will of the world bent to Fey's very whim. Her very being sparked with unbridled power. Yet she felt more inclined in being a gymnast rather than fulfilling her destiny as a witch.
What difference would one witch do? she thought, giddily skipping through the dim streets.
Then, she met it—a Giant. She didn't know why it lurked in that particular corner or what it wanted on that particular day, but that monster had ruined her life and body.
A burly, scar-riddled hand, snatched her up by the leg, dangling her in the air. Before Fey could protest, it snapped her right leg like a twig and crushed her bones to powder.
Her screams died in her throat.
Helplessly, her twitching body was left in the streets of Sweden. No help arrived until it was too late.
The damage was done and irreparable. Not even her family's magic nor Freyja's could change that. Fey would never walk properly again. Her life and career were over.
And as the pain in her leg grew, so did her rage towards the Giants.
But revenge was now a pipe dream as the Draugr's foot hovered above her, ready to crush her prone body. Fey sobbed as the foot came down on her.
I just wanted to walk again.