Chapter A – Calling the Norns
MUSIC TRACK LIST:
Gyorgy Ligeti / Seven Planters – Lux Aeterna Dark Ambient Remix (https://soundcloud.com/seven_planters/lux-aeterna-dark-ambient-remix)
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DAVID’S POV
My head hurt. Again. Why could I never get used to that part?
I pressed my hand against my eyes, waiting for the pain and vertigo to subside. My teeth ached, like I’d just bit into an ice block, and for a moment I thought I was going to keel over backwards. I staggered around and actually had to reach down and feel my body to make sure there was only one of me. Don’t know what I was seeing in those sunglasses, but at least I was now in one piece. As my head cleared I slowly opened my eyes.
Well this was different.
It was some kind of shack, or a hut I guess. The walls were made out of tree branches, woven together and plastered with some kinda mud, and the ceiling, get this, was literally thatched straw. I felt like I was in one of the Three Little Pigs’ places.
There were windows in each wall and the only light was the sun streaming through, lighting up the dust that rose from the dirt floor. There was some furniture, all wood, but not very much, just a couple stools, what must have passed for a table, a woven cot, and some wooden boxes shoved over in the darkest corner. That’s it. Guess I wasn’t going to find a place to recharge my phone.
I took a few steps around and noticed I was wearing some kind of leather moccasins, and an itchy brown tunic—or toga? Not sure what you’d call it. But it hardly reached halfway down my thigh and, sure enough, there was nothing else underneath to protect me from the elements. Great. I’d somehow found a universe where they hadn’t invented underwear yet. Or pants, of course. Why have one without the other? My whole body tensed up as I felt the breeze on my…er, equipment. This was gonna be hard to get used to.
Or maybe I was only half dressed! I started rummaging around the room, looking for a stash of cool leather underwear—boxers or briefs?—but I only found a bunch of primitive junk like a pile of rocks with symbols painted on them and a bunch of paper scrolls. Those looked interesting, like in a kung fu film or something, and I started rummaging through them. Maybe there’d be something that’d tell me a bit more about where I was—and help me start looking for Emma.
I figured the biggest one would be best, so I pulled it out and started to untie the little cord around it. “Who do we ask for help when we don’t know which way to go?” I’d always wanted a chance to quote Dora the Explorer, but when I spoke I heard something scuffle around in the corner of the hut, with all the boxes. I paused a moment . . . not sure I wanted to see what kinds of pets they had in this universe. But it moved again. “Aw, what the hell.” I tiptoed over and looked in.
Great. A baby. A naked, human, little teeny tiny boy baby.
“Oh, hi, little guy!” I bent over to get a better look at him. He stared back, a little bit of curly hair up on top, some drool working its way out the side of his mouth. I guess it was irresistible because I reached in and started tickling him under his chin. “Who’s a good boy?” I asked. “Who got left naked all alone in a box? Who’s in a box? Who is it? Who’s in the box?”
He cooed and swiped at my finger . . . and I started to think just who was this little kid? Someone had left him alone in here. Who would do that . . . to this poor, cute, little, innocent—
“Gaaaa!!” A stream of yellow liquid came spraying up toward my face. The first drop hit me in the eye, then—like how time slows down when you’re about to get flattened by a semi—I felt little splotches of warmth on my cheeks, chin, and neck—and the rest, the big stream, was coming up fast. Scrambling for safety, I fell backwards, tripping over another one of those damn boxes and crashing to the floor, on top of the scroll I was holding with my left hand. I hit the side of my head pretty hard on the dirt floor and got a little disoriented. Looking up I saw someone standing in the doorway, hands on hips, looking at me.
“Hello,” I stuttered, staggering to my feet. Ouch—that hurt!
“Melker!” it was a woman’s voice, “what are you doing?!” She walked into the hut. I couldn’t believe it.
“Pepper?” I asked. She was wearing some kind of leather tunic, the same length as mine, and no make-up for once, but it was definitely her. Those emerald eyes, that mouth, those breasts…
“The baby’s supposed to be ready! What have you been doing?” She scooped up the child—he was done now—and wiped him off with her skirt. Ewwww.
She saw me gawking at her and paused. “What are you staring at? Get moving! Let’s go!” She thrust the naked baby at me. There was no other way out that I saw, so I took the child, that thing pointed right at my face, and kind of looked around for something to do with him.
“Um, Pepper, so where are his clothes again?” She just looked at me, reached down into his crib-box and threw some kind of pelt at my face. Yuck—it was wet of course, and now my face was too. “Oh, geez, whatcha do that for?” I whined.
But she didn’t say anything, she just sat down—legs spread wide, I noticed—and picked up the bent scroll, practically hissing, “And if I ever catch you touching one of my parchments again I will chop your finger off.” I started to chuckle then realized she was serious; she was even fingering a small metal blade hanging from her belt. I gulped. What kind of universe had I stumbled into? “The only reason I don’t do it now,” she continued, “is because we’re late for the naming ceremony and,” she smiled approvingly, “you did well satisfying me this morning.”
What?! Not again with that. Then it hit me. I looked around at the little room. A basin of water. A table. The chairs. The bed. A baby in a crib-box. This was our – house. We must be – a couple! With a kid!
Great—even if I found Emma I was shacked up with this, with…
I was supposed to be with Pepper. The thought came back in my head. Right when I had Emma, when I found one who wanted to be with me, Pepper butted in, into my mind and literally into that universe.
And now here she was, in all her leather-clad voluptuousness. Did I do that? Did those thoughts send me to a universe where Pepper and I were… Where we…
“Pepper, what’s going on?!” I blurted.
She stood. “If you’re trying to be cute, Melker, it’s not working. You will refer to me as Damen Sigrid, as required in your marital covenant and renaming ceremony. Or I will exact the punishment. Understood?” Marital? It was even worse than I thought! What other punishment could possibly top that? Still, the thought wouldn’t leave my head . . . you’re supposed to be with Pepper…
“Be outside in one minute,” she said then stormed out of the house, er, shack. So here I was, alone with a baby that evidently came from me and Pepper, living in a shack under constant threat of becoming a medieval John Bobbitt, and no way to know how to start looking for Emma. I thought about climbing out a window and trying to set out after her, but Pepper was probably as good a potential clue as I was going to get. At least she knew who I was (here) and what was going on, so it was probably best to just go with the flow here for a while and see where she was taking me. Besides, when I’d tried to do things my way before, well, see where that got me?
It turns out wrapping the kiddo in the deerskin, or whatever it was, wasn’t so hard. I think I had it inside out at first—hair normally goes on the outside, right?—but saw there was a kind of belt on the skin side, so I turned it around, swaddled him up so it was nice and fuzzy inside, and stepped out into the daylight like a pro.
Yeah, I’d given up on finding pants. When in Rome…
“Good. Let’s go.” Pepper, or whatever her name was here, started walking fast, and I had to scramble to keep up. Not used to carrying babies around the woods, after all. And we were in the woods—big tall trees, pretty thick, the kind with whitish-gray bark mostly—but every once in a while I saw a hut about the size of ours tucked away to the side of the path. So this was our town—not exactly Santa Monica anymore.
I trotted to catch up with her. “So, um…” I couldn’t remember her name and didn’t want to risk the punishment, so now I had to avoid saying it—great. “Could you remind me again where we’re headed?” She turned and looked at me—then slapped me right across the mouth. Hard. I almost dropped the baby.
“What the hell?!” I yelled. “I know there’s some kind of marital contract and you evidently think you’re running this show, but let me tell you something, missy!” She just stared at me, waiting. And something about her unnerved me a bit, you know? Not sure exactly what it was—and it wasn’t just her knife. Something in her eyes… So I quickly felt my muscles relaxing, even though my face still hurt. “You can’t just go around slapping . . . I’m not just your boytoy punching bag . . . I mean, that hurt!” I finally admitted. Man, I’d only been here a few minutes and I was already convinced this was not the Pepper I wanted to be with. Emma. I’m here for Emma.
“Good,” she hissed. “Get back in your place! So help me, what is wrong with you today?” She turned and stormed ahead. “You know as well as I that we’re going to see the volva for the naming ceremony.”
My stinging face wasn’t why my mouth dropped open. Did I hear that right? We were going to see the—? Images of giant floating lady parts, like something out of a porno Wizard of Oz, started dancing in my head. And at this point I wouldn’t be surprised—things were getting stranger and stranger with each new universe.
I kept a few steps behind her as we hurried through the village—I thought again about running, but the men obviously weren’t running the show around here and it was probably still best to just keep toeing the line, ‘til I could get my bearings a bit more. But something Pepper’d said kept nagging at me . . . that we were going to another ceremony. I kept thinking back to the white temple, the water falling, Emma’s face. She knew she loved me—was that so impure? I guess I was realizing that, for the people here, these experiences are real. They’re not just characters in my own private fantasies—they’re real people who really keep on living in these worlds after I shoot out into another part of the multiverse. And that means that somewhere there’s a virgin Emma who’s suffering for my mistake that I made during her priestess initiation ceremony. It was real. I guess I’d started thinking about it all like levels of a computer game, but this—all of this—was real.
“Don’t do anything to mess this up,” Pepper whispered as she came to a halt. Like she could read my mind. I didn’t know what to say so I said nothing. We were in a clearing in front of a large log house, easily five times the size of the other huts and made with larger tree trunks lashed and cemented together. Above the large door was a horizontal carving: I couldn’t make it out at all. There were lots of marks like writing, nothing I’d seen before, and some kind of tall oval opening in the center, like… Oh, I got it. We were at the vulva’s house.
The door opened—this one had doors that opened—and a little old woman in a long cloak emerged. I let out a sigh, half in relief, half in disappointment, and Pepper shot me another dirty look, which I was totally used to. The old woman carried another cloak, which she handed to Pepper. I just watched, trying to not mess up, as Pepper knelt before the woman and accepted the clothing. The old woman pulled the sleeves on, raised the hood, and tied the cinch just below Pepper’s chest. I admit I got distracted there for minute until the woman finally spoke: “Froken Sigridke, is the young one prepared?”
“Yes, Grevinnan Borbjorgur. He has been fully cleansed.”
“Good. Froken Sigridke, are you prepared?”
“Yes, Grevinnan Borbjorgur. I have been cleansed and satiated by my husband this morning.” Well, if I understood that, at least I’d done that right. Too bad I wasn’t here for that part.
“Good. Froken Sigridke, is your husband prepared?”
Pepper hesitated, glancing at me—for a second the image of Emma and the bowl of water flashed back into my mind—but she continued resolutely. “Yes, Grevinnan Borbjorgur. He has been cleansed and emptied twice, once in me and once filling his belly with that which he expelled; he can have no power of discharge now.” What the—?! I gagged. So maybe it was okay I wasn’t here this morning after all.
“Good. Let the seidr come forth.” A dozen hooded figures silently stepped out from behind the trees, forming a circle around the old woman. About gave me a heart attack. I couldn’t see their faces, but they seemed feminine. Was I the only dude in this entire town?
The old lady continued: “Bring forth the child.”
I waited to see what would happen next. Nobody moved. The old woman looked over at me. I started to nod and smile then thought the better of it, doing my best to stay as dour as I could. Pepper looked at me, eyes wide. No way I was going to mess this one up. There was a long pause, probably for some sort of meditation. Finally Pepper hissed, “Melker!” The old woman, not too happy, looked at the baby I was holding.
Oh crap! The baby’s the child! “Sorry,” I stammered as I stepped forward and handed the baby to the old woman. I got a good look at her—bright, bright blue eyes, the kind that, you know, they say can look right through you. She had a large metal necklace hanging outside her cloak, and a belt full of heavy pouches. She looked me in the eyes, then silently motioned for me to step right on back again. Happy to oblige, Granny.
She lifted the child above her head and called out. “Uror! Skuld! Veroandi! We come here as volur and seidr, purified and prepared! A male child has been born and his mother presents him here.” Pepper held out her arms and the woman placed the baby in them. He squirmed but didn’t seem to mind being passed around.
I noticed the other women had started chanting, something low, quiet, and repetitive, like a talking drum throbbing in some foreign language. The old woman unwrapped the deerskin on the baby—Come on, I thought, that was a good swaddle job!—and reached into her robe to take out . . . a magic wand. Of course. This universe wouldn’t be complete without the old lady having a freaking magic wand, right? It was like some Harry Potter deal, a twisty brown stick but with some golden thread or something twisted around it.
I was half expecting a bibbity-bobbity-boo, but she started waving it over her head, not saying anything but making all these figure eights and curvy patterns. The hooded women stepped closer, tightening the circle around us, and I noticed the hair on my arms and neck stand up. A little closer than I’d have liked. And maybe it was just me, but it seemed like the wind was picking up too—the treetops were swaying hard, leaves rustling together, and I don’t think that was happening before. Dark clouds were forming overhead, visibly spiraling around the clearing in the woods. Then the old woman’s voice brought my eyes back down.
“Uror! Skuld! Veroandi! I Borbjorgu call to you. We come in seior, to see this child’s destiny. We come with our looms to weave this child’s fate. O mighty Norns, we present him uncovered, unhidden. We implore ye, predict his fate!”
The wind rushed down, nearly knocking me over, and suddenly memories came flooding back. Things Emma had said. Sweden. Her grandmother. The Norns. She’d been hidden from them as a child! Her fate was undecided. The Norns, the Norns—were seeking Emma!
“Emma!” I called out.
And silence. The wind stopped. The chanting ended. The sun shined. Everyone turned and looked at me.
Crap. I’d done it again.
Pepper sprang to her feet, practically dropping the baby on the ground—of course he started crying. She reached inside her robe and pulled out her blade as she strode toward me. “You stupid, ignorant, insubordinate sub-human!” she screamed. “Kneel and take your punishment as decreed by Freyja herself!”
Crap. I was in trouble now. Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy. Time to break character and run?
But my legs wouldn’t move, like one of those stupid dreams where you’re just frozen to the spot. I was hoping to jump on out of this universe, but that wasn’t happening either. I just watched as Pepper raised the blade, ready to slice it at my face.
“Halt!”
It was the old woman.
“Froken Sigridke, you are correct.” Her voice was lower now, almost a whisper, but it commanded, seeming to echo through the trees. “His punishment must be most severe. But first just draw his blood. I have somewhat to speak with him.”
Pepper bowed to the woman, “Yes, Grevinnan.” I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Then Pepper spun and slashed the knife straight across my right shoulder. I screamed and fell backward, trying to fight her off, but she stepped back before I knew what was happening. I fell on my side, clutching my shoulder, blood spilling over my hand. I pressed hard, trying to stop the bleeding, then my attention was pulled upwards. I looked, and the old woman was standing over me.
“Melker, is it?” she asked, almost kindly. “Come with me. We must talk.”
I struggled to my feet and followed her, making sure to keep my distance from Pepper, who stood there with the bloody blade still shaking in her fist. The old woman walked into her house. It couldn’t be any worse in there than out here, so I took a deep breath . . . and followed.
//
About the writer:
Randy Astle is a filmmaker and writer in New York City. He likes all kinds of movies and transmedia, from kids' TV to interactive documentaries. @randyastle
A/N
Hope you guys love this fun chapter as much as I do. Randy will be doing a three chapter cycle like Willow did with hers (and PRO TIP!! for those who demanded more of her world will not be disappointed, Willow is hard at work at another dive into that world. More news to come).
I met Randy when I was in New York for Storycode's Hackathon -- that is where you create a story on three platforms in three days!! And he was my team mate. We were totally strangers at the time, and I couldn't be happier with my teammates, especially Randy, for their creativity, energy, passion and skills.
I just tallied up, and GUYS!! I only have 5-6 more chapters of All Your Fates to write on my end. SADNESS!!! But don't worry, we have a ton of guess writer's lined up amongst my few remaining chapters. If I can get down to brass tacks in the next two weeks, we'll move over to a twice weekly release schedule again.
C
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