Distortions In Time: Book I

Twists in Time

"What shall we do with it?" asked the master mage, named Vaetta, as he eyed the small babe which lay in the palm of his hand. It fit his palm quite neatly and he knew without a doubt that if he clenched his fist, he would easily break the bird-like bones without much effort on his part.

And no one would gainsay him. It would be compassion to put the little thing out of its misery – and miserable it was, trembling and flailing, tiny fists waving. Tiny cries rang out, thin and weak, easily swallowed by the vast icy darkness around it. Not the lusty cry a full-formed Frost Giant babe should have. It's blue skin should have darkened further and its red eyes were pale – a sign of fatigue and hunger. Not that it matters, thought the mage, it will die before the night ends, that is certain.

"He said to dispose of it," the healer mused. "I could take it for further study –"

"You mean to cut it apart?"

"Runts are born to our kind – but they die so quickly, being abandoned by their families in the dark of night. Shameful things. It is impossible for us to ascertain why they had been so deformed, but this tissue is alive and intact. Come, let me have it, Vaetta."

"It is a babe," the mage pulled away. "Small and deformed and unintelligent as it is, let it die with some kind of dignity – and go to the arms of the nattura [1] and be at peace."

A foot soldier brushed past them, obviously in a hurry, and catching sight of the two giants glaring down at the small creature in their hands, paused and flinched at the sight of the deformed runt.

"Just bash its head on the rocks," he snarled. "This is war and there is no time for witless giant's tales or a scribe's nonsense. Asgard is upon us – and Laufey will have us all marching before tomorrow's cycle is over."

"I will lay it in the Gothahus [2], close to the Aldinn Stathr [3]," pronounced the mage. "Concern yourself not with the babe, you are, after all, more needed in the healing tents, Leysa."

"Very well," grumbled Leysa unhappily. "I bow to your higher station, Vaetta, and your foolish sentiment."

"Be well," Vaetta nodded and left his friend behind, clutching the still wailing runt to his chest.

[... fortunately...]

Unfortunately, the Gothahus [2] would not be accessible tonight, for a storm had descended on Utgard and no Frost Giant went out into the cold, no matter how powerful and hale they might be. If the Asgardians were indeed on their way, they would have to survive the powerful winds which came from the north and Dagaheim. A cruel kind of wind which stabbed you with its cold knives and brought many a good creature to its knees.

Vaetta wrapped the babe up in a piece of rough sacking, binding the legs and arms down, surrounding the bald head which now he saw was fully formed, complete with the matrilineal lines of Laufey. If it had been but larger, he thought, it would have been... perfect.

The next morning, Vaetta was busy with a morning ritual to bless Laufey's early morning expedition, followed by a very serious council concerning a prophecy of doom foretold by Kaldro's runes. Thus, it was not until evening time that Vaetta finally found the time to pull the now quiet babe from the hard bed of warm rocks he had laid it on. He had fed the small thing in the morning and quickly fed it again – its last meal. Then, cradling the tiny bundle of rucksack in his large hand, the mage left for the Gothahus [2] and the Aldinn Stathr [3].

He had only started walking for a short while when a large cry rose from the eastern part of the city, and Vaetta's steps hurried as he realized that Laufey, who had set out to meet his Royal Consort, Farbauti, on the road, had returned earlier than expected. From the sounds of it, a battle was upon them again.