The Midgardians and the Nine Realms: Book 1 by R. A. Nielsen | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil

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R. A. Nielsen
Russell Nielsen

In the world of The Midgardians and the Nine Realms

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Ongoing 2027 Words

Chapter 8

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King Karvir talked to Travis and Andrew in the temple telling them stories about Odin, Thor, and the other gods and goddesses. Asgard. Finally, he turned to the four gilded statues that they were sitting at the feet of. “And these are our gods and the representatives of Nidavellir in Asgard." 
 
“At the time of creation, Odin, the All-Father, and his two brothers triumphed in an epic battle with the giant Ymir. Odin fashioned the realm of Midgard from Ymir's skull, and as maggots feasted on the giant's flesh.
 
Odin plucked four maggots up and gave them shape, intelligence, and sentience. Those maggots were the fathers and mothers of mine people, the first dwarves. He named them Norori, Vestri, Suori, and Austri, and sent each of them to the four corners of Midgard to hold up the sky. Then Odin created the race of man and gave them the realm of Midgard for them to shape and develop.
 
As gratitude for holding the sky, Odin granted the power of the elements to the original dwarves. He also gave them all the land below Midgard for them to develop, and called it Nidavellir, the land of the dwarves. It was through these four original dwarves that all mine people can trace our lineage.
 
It is also through the original dwarves that our runeweavers can use the power of the gods. It was the power of these original dwarves, that healed you and granted the knowledge of our language." Karvir explained as he finished his tale.
 
After the story, Karvir led them back to the keep. As they entered the King looked across the room calling for a younger dwarf sitting at a table. "Erik," King Karvir called out, and the dwarf dropped what he was doing and hurried towards them.
 
"Yes, mine king?" Erik asked, bowing deeply.
 
"Take our guests to the quarters that you prepared for them. Make sure to get them fresh clothes, and anything else they need to be comfortable." 
 
"Yes, mine king," Erik responded and then turned to Travis and Andrew, "right this way Midgardians." 
 
They followed Erik out of the great hall and out a door opposite of the side from the night before. Erik led them to the end of a long corridor where he opened a door and all three stepped inside. The space was about double the size of Andrew's room at home. It was a cozy space with two beds dressed in black and purple linen with a table situated between them.
 
"I hope the accommodations are fitting for the two of you," Erik said, bowing his head again.
 
"The room is fine," Andrew said smiling at Erik, "and please, call me Andrew and him Travis instead of 'Midgardian'." 
 
"As you wish," Erik responded, “and you may call me Erik, though my proper name is Erik, Son of Jarl Rolf, of the Deeprock Clan.”
 
“Deeprock Clan?" Travis asked, “isn’t that the same clan that Vidar and Vikar are from?”
 
“Aye, indeed it is. We are the smallest of the five clans, but I’m proud to say that all the greatest runeweavers are members of mine clan. In fact, five of the seven Runemasters at the Citadel of Runes are from mine clan." He paused, seeing the confusion on Andrew’s face. “That is where they instruct those predisposed to the art of runeweaving." Erik said, “now if you follow me I can show you where you can clean yourself up." 
 
They followed him through a small door on the other side of the room that neither of them had noticed at first. Upon entering they found what amounted to a large bathroom with a stone basin on a table. It was next to a carved stool mounted over a hole in the floor which Andrew assumed was the toilet. Across the small room, the floor dropped off into what appeared to be a small swimming pool with steam rising from it. 
 
"Please, bathe yourselves," Erik said, "while I fetch you some fresh clothes." he turned and left the two of them in the torchlit chamber. 
 
Andrew turned his back as Travis stripped out of his dirty clothes and jumped into the water. Andrew stripped next but went slower into the water making sure to allow his body to adjust to the heat. It was about the same temperature as the hot tub at the city pool in their hometown, hot, but not scalding. After only a few short minutes he was neck-deep and able to relax.
 
From their room he heard Erik call out, "may I gather your clothing?"
 
"Yes, come on in," Andrew replied, and Erik stepped in and gathered their belongings and left the room. 
 
Andrew and Travis relaxed in the water for a long time talking about everything they had seen and heard. Towards the back of the pool the floor dropped off and neither of them could feel the bottom or how deep the pool went. 
 
Andrew took a deep breath and dove with his hands out in front of him, feeling for the bottom of the pool. As he got deeper the temperature quickly rose to an unbearable level. Before he could stop, his hands erupted in pain and he returned to the surface gasping for air. The skin on his face and shoulders prickling with pain from the as the room temperature air hit his red skin. He tried to brush the water out of his eyes and cried out in pain. His hands were red and blistered and his skin was starting to peel. 
 
"ANDREW," Travis yelled as he swam to his friend and helped pull him back to the shallow end. 
 
Hearing the yells, Erik rushed back into the room, "What happened?" he said looking at Andrew’s injured hands.
 
"I was at the deep end and was curious how far down it went," He continued, "so I dove down and somehow I got burned."
 
"Of course you got burned," Erik replied with an exasperated tone in his voice. "That pool is fed by a river that flows beneath this chamber keeping the water hot and fresh. The river is heated with molten rock and if you had gone much deeper you may not have survived." 
 
"I didn't know," Andrew panted out through the pain. 
 
"Wait here," Erik said, and he rushed from the room.
 
Minutes later they heard Erik return to their room, but he wasn't alone.
 
"In here," they heard Erik say. He stepped into the bath chamber followed by Vidar and Vikar who were dressed as they were the night before.
 
Vikar knelt by Andrew and put his hands out in a comforting manner. He and Erik helped Andrew stand, as Vidar wrapped a cloth around him trying to preserve his privacy. With Travis out of the water and close behind, they walked Andrew over into the bedchamber and had him sit on the bed. Vidar pulled a pouch off of his belt and retrieved a red gemstone and handed it to Vikar. Vikar pressed the stone into Andrew’s blistered palm and mouthed something out. The pain in Andrew's hand spiked as the stone flashed red, and then the pain immediately subsided to a dull throb. Vikar then repeated the process with his other hand leaving them both red and stinging. 
 
The twins left the room with a bow as Andrew clenched and flexed his hands checking for permanent damage.
 
"The redness and stinging will subside within the hour," Erik explained.
 
Andrew smiled back, "it will always amaze me that they can do that." 
 
"It is our gods who do it, Vidar and Vikar are only able to heal through their power," Erik explained. "If the gods did not want someone healed, they would use the gems, say the words, and nothing would happen." 
 
“Has that ever happened?" Andrew asked, “have your gods ever refused to heal someone?”
 
“Aye," Erik responded, "it has happened a few times to those who were not worthy of healing, but it is rare."
 
“What would make someone unworthy of healing?" Travis asked, his curiosity piqued.
 
“It's best to not tell such dark stories, Andrew," Erik responded before changing the subject. “I almost forgot, I found the two of you some proper clothes for tonight's festivities. The royal tailor set to work when they heard of your arrival yesterday. They worked through the night to make sure we had shirts and trousers that would fit you properly." He walked to the table between the beds where two piles of multi-colored clothes lay in neat stacks. 
 
“Try these on," he said to the two of them before leaving the room to give them some privacy. 
 
They dressed and found that the clothes fit well, except for Andrew's were a little long at the ankles. They both wore deep purple shirts and button-up black trousers. They had also each been provided with a pair of leather shoes, but they didn't fit so they ended up wearing their own shoes.
 
After a couple of minutes, Erik reentered the room. “You two look much more presentable," he said with a smile on his face, but you’re still missing one thing. From his pocket, Erik produced two leather banded necklaces with small metal hammers at the end of each. He put them around both of their necks along with the silver chained gem containing Austri's Gift. “These," he explained, “are Mjolnir's. They represent and give respect to Thor the God of thunder, and mine people wear them for protection." 
 
“Thank you," Andrew said looking down and running his fingers across the cold metal hammer. 
 
“Wear them with pride," Erik said fervently. “They've passed down through mine family for countless generations.”
 
The two of them stared at each other, neither feeling right accepting the heirlooms for Erik’s family. “We can’t accept this," Travis finally said, moving to take it off from around his neck.
 
“It would bring me dishonor if you decline," Erik said in a stern tone.
 
“But don’t you want to pass these down to your sons someday?" Andrew asked.
 
“I would love to but the gods have granted mine wife and me with three beautiful daughters and no sons. I was not destined to have sons, so there is little reason for me to hold onto them.”
 
“Can’t you give it to one of your daughters?" Andrew asked thoughtfully.
 
“No, it's inappropriate in mine society for a father to present such heirlooms to their daughter. No, mine wife has many trinkets and heirlooms that she will pass on to our daughters when their time has come. It is mine place to pass things onto mine sons, and since I have none, it is mine honor to pass them on to you, the first midgardians to ever visit our realm on this side of the sea.”
 
“Thank you," Andrew said with respect, “We will wear them proudly." 
 
“Please see that you do," Erik said with a smile on his face.
 
“You said you have three daughters?" Andrew asked, astonished, you can’t be a day past your mid-twenties, how do you have so many kids already?”
 
Erik's laugh filled the room, “I am not a child, boy," he said with a wide smile on his face. “I am one season short of mine ninety-fourth year." 
 
“Ninety-four!," Andrew exclaimed, this almost shocked him as much as the fact that magic was real, “how long does your race live?”
 
“In times without war, plague, or other factors mine people live around two hundred and fifty years. The oldest dwarf we know of was Stefan the Gray of the Ironblood Clan who lived to three hundred and sixteen." Erik chuckled, “As the story is told, that is how the Ironblood got their clan name. Stefan lived for so long that they say his blood was solid iron by the time he returned to the stone.”
 
“How many clans are there?" Andrew asked.
 
"Long ago, before our journey across the great sea, there were close to a hundred clans. Though I am sad to say that most were wiped out when Loki released his plague. There are only five remaining clans that make up our society, which are the Stronghammer, Ironblood, Stonebeard, Blackfall, and the Deeprock clans.”
 
“Which one has my sister?" Andrew asked warily. 
 
Before Erik could answer there was a knock at the door. A female dwarf entered with a polite curtsy and said, “King Karvir has sent for the Midgardians. The envoys he sent to the Stronghammer Clan have returned.”  

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