Nineteen: Bed Of Skulls

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In a crevice of a valley deep in the mountain ridge is the opening of a cave. Jagged rocks threatening to impale outsiders. Skulls and bones decorate the entrance way and streaks of blood stain the walls. Nought but darkness can be seen beyond the mouth of the cave. Little bones and large dead trees littered the outside. They stand as lifeless lampposts with the only purpose to creak and crack. Wards of bones are hung from their dry limbs but this warning to stay away does not deter the Tainted Prince.

The air here is stale and thin.

Sigvard's boots crunch along the ground of loose pebbles and bones. He struts with his head held high, his forehead gleaming with sweat. He stops at the mouth of the cave and he hears nothing but the whistling of wind.

"I have brought an offering!" he called out. His voice bounces of the cave walls repeating itself back to him. "I ask for your advice!" his eyes peer into the darkness. In his left hand he holds a torch that the light itself cannot penetrate the dark of the cave. In his right, he holds a bag.

There is nothing but silence for a moment.

"I am the Prince of Vanaheim, you will answer me, Seeress." his voice strong and demanding.

There is an eery sound deep from within the cave. Like a groaning of sorts. Shuffling and dragging and the sound of bones hitting each other. The sounds draw nearer and closer. And from the darkness a figure presents themselves.

Sigvard squints his eyes to see better. "I see you there." he called.

The bottom half of this person can only be seen. Bare feet stained black with years of dirt. A shamanic dress decorated with beads and satchels hanging from their waist. A hand holding a tall staff decorated with the same bones and jewels appears from the darkness. Nothing else.

Sigvard squints his eyes trying to see further.

A raspy voice speaks. "Identify yourself." it spoke. It is a woman's voice.

"I am Sigvard of Vanaheim. Son of Iwaldi." he proudly proclaimed.

The figure hummed deeply. "Why have you come?"

"I ask for advice."

"Then you should not have come here for you will only be disappointed." The Seeress said. "And this close to the royal wedding? Conveniently after that accident?"

"You dare refuse me?" Sigvard spat. "The mighty Volva who speaks for The Norns? Who grants heavenly advice and visions? Refusing a prince?" he throws the bag at her feet. "I have brought you entrails of a lamb is that not your price?"

The seeress is quiet for a moment. "I cannot tell you what you have already been told."

"Do not riddle me questions, seeress. Now, it is impolite to leave a prince standing in the cold at night. Will you invite me in or not?"

The seeress does not venture further from the dark she dwells in. Instead she turns to an enlarged rock formation and draws from a satchel hanging from her hip. On this part of the rock she lays out bones and stones marked with runes. "What is it you wish to know?" she asked. "Be warned; I can only tell you what you need to know and nothing more."

So he asked, "Will my sister marry the Mighty Thor?"

The seeress threw the bones and they strategically positioned themselves like invisible fingers were pulling them in a way that should not be natural. And the word fall from her lips like a elongated string being pulled from a rug. "No."

Sigvard's grin dropped. "What? That must be wrong. Do it again." he demanded.

"You dare question the fates?"

His Queen | Book 1Where stories live. Discover now