Chapter Three
Libelle climbed the frozen steps of Uppsala her horse behind her taking short steps and both watching their feet. If either were to step in the wrong place they would simply slip and probably fall to their death. The double doors of the monument were in view, and the exhausted pair both seemed to take a breath of relief. Her armor had formed frost and her eyelashes were sticking together in the cold. Each breath resulted in a puff of hot air, the cold was stinging her lungs making it painful to breath.
It had been nearly two weeks since she had left Gaalin standing like a fool in a scorched wheat field. Her journey to Uppsala had taken longer than expected, heavy storms had forced her to seek shelter more than she had cared for. Typically she would travel to Uppsala in the early fall to visit with the priests if the gods, conversing with the gods and spending several days sacrificing to honor them.
The height of the temple within the mountains made it difficult to reach, and more than half the year the temple was covered in snow. The climate this high up was colder than anywhere else in the land, and only during early fall was there the least amount of snow. The frigid temperatures were mildly less freezing, making the yearly pilgrimage slightly more tolerable.
Libelle led her horse up the final slope of stairs and pushed open the heavy door, letting her horse walk past her into the warmth of the building. She stepped in after him and shut the door behind her, a loud thud echoed into the main hall. Her horse shook its entire body, sending the built up snow and frost onto the floor. She patted her armor down and pulled off her wool cloak, setting it near the fire on a high hook to dry.
Someone cleared their throat behind her, and she turned to see the Seer, Davyn. He was the high priest of the gods, governing the other priests within the temple. She had not seen him for almost three months, the last time they had spoken was during her pilgrimage. "The main hall of Uppsala is not a stable slayer."
She shrugged, "You’re right, it’s not... But it would make a fine one."
Davyn did not find any humor in her comment, he stood on the opposite side of the room with his hands crossed together. He waited patiently as she shook the snow and frost from herself, then joined her as she stood next to the fire in the main hall to warm her frozen fingers.
“If you’re here unannounced like this, you must need something?” He spoke, his voice elderly and wise, his thick accent much more proper in comparison to hers.
“Yes, it’s rather urgent.”
His eyes never left the flames. “It must be something serious then.”
“Yes, it is.” She rubbed her cold hands together and then blew into them, the heat from her breath stinging the chilled nerves. “It’s about Eskil.”
Davyn smiled, his shaved face wrinkling with the gesture. “Isn't it always? Come, Vegeir will surely want to hear about this if it's such an important matter.”
Libelle followed him as he turned and walked from the main hall, his footsteps muffled beneath his heavy robes. Talismans around his neck clattered, the carved animal bones signifying his place as head priest to the Gods. “Vegeir is down from the peaks then? He doesn’t do that very often anymore. What's he up too?”
“Speaking with the priests. It is rare, but occasionally he does travel down to the court yard to keep us company.” He walked past a large pillar before approaching another set of twin doors, turning and waiting for her as she took a moment to pay her respects to the large wooden and stone carvings that depicted a few of their gods. Odin, Freyr, and Thor.
Despite there being a large lineage of God's, Uppsala displayed statues of only three. The remaining gods and goddesses were conversed with through talismans, smaller shrines, and through the priests. They were capable of going into a deep trance, delving into the empty world where man and god could speak.
Her conversion to paganism had taken years, born to a dying race of elves that worshiped deities who were now unknown to her. Adopted by a kind Nordic couple, she was raised as a pagan; however she had to wait until she was of age to convert to the religion she held dearly. She bowed before the statue of Thor, praying to the God of Thunder and Battle to aid her in her upcoming fight.
Davyn nodded to her when she stood up straight, returning to his side as he pushed against the heavy lumber and allowed her walk down the steps into the snowy courtyard. She paused in front of the remaining priests, taking a moment in front of each one to clasp her hands together and give them a slight bow. Olief, Kirk, and Jolgeir returned the gesture, however their expressions much more placid than hers.
She walked towards the center of the courtyard, stepping through the deep snow drifts to approach Vegeir who sat perched among a tall cliff. He was among a few dragons within the islands who would take time to converse with mortals, and one of very few being’s she could trust. His snow colored scales practically blended him into the scenery, if it were not for his movement or his voice: one could mistake him for a large, oddly shaped rock.
A gust of wind kicked up all the loose snow and pushed it into the air, creating a small twister of snow that danced about. The courtyard was always cold, the once tall walls that surrounded it were now crumbled down into piles of rubble. A trio of large stone pillars held a large fire pit that they all seemed to stand closer to, the large fire radiated a lot of heat to warm them when each gust of wind threatened to chill them to their bones.
Vegeir nodded at Libelle, and when he spoke his voice carried out to her in the wind. “Welcome Slayer, you have traveled to the temple at quite an odd time. Do you come to pray to the Gods?”
She shook her head, “I am sorry Vegeir, but I have come here today for other reasons. A rather urgent matter.”
“Oh?” He asked, his ancient voice rumbling. “What reason is that?”
She pulled her pack from her shoulder and opened the leather flap, reaching in and rummaging around for the one thing she had been working so hard on for the last few weeks. She pulled her hand from her bag, and with it came an ivory papered scroll with gold ends. She held it up to the dragon whose gaze seemed to never change.
“What is that?” He asked.
“A ritual, it combines great magic and the power that the gods have lent me.”
Vegeir’s eyes widened, and he leaned further in towards her. Davyn spoke next, disbelief and annoyance broke through his tone of voice. “Slayer, the gods do not simply lend their power to all those that ask. What you are saying is lunacy.”
“Yes, it may be a tad crazy. But, if you listen to my story you will all understand.”
Vegeir remained close to her as he examined the small scroll. “Go on Slayer.”
She inhaled, “Eskil is up to something, he has been plotting something evil for months now. I don’t know what it is he plans, but it is not good. Two weeks ago, an ancient dragon attacked Edinburgh on Eskil’s command. It did not speak of anything wise, it was nothing more than a pawn in a game it called itself.
“It attacked and then waited, waited for me to come. It was drawing me out for some ill plot. Moments later, Eskil appeared. He could have killed me in an instant, yet he did not. He spoke, and he… then he left. I did not know what to do, if he wanted me dead he had his opportunity. It makes sense now, especially when I think about it. For months dragons have been attacking towns at random, killing townsfolk and livestock before disappearing. They never seem to return for their meals, not unless I am summoned to that location. Eskil is testing me, right?”
Davyn nodded, “Yes it sounds like he is. But for what reason?”
“I don’t know. The reason behind that devil’s actions is beyond my understanding. But I've been planning, trying to find a way to defeat that vile creature. He cannot be killed, this much I know. I have spoken with the gods, with Odin and Borr.”
His eyes widened and she continued. “Búri created dragons around the time Odin’s sons Thor and Loki were born. Eskil was the first dragon to be created, this I am sure you know.”
“Correct, I am aware of my history slayer.”
She sighed, “What many may not know, what I didn’t know… Is that Eskil is the vessel of the gods, it’s what his name means anyways. Búri created dragon’s to be a companion to the nord’s, and it started out that way, however now we’ve been warring with each other for thousands of years. Vegeir, the gods want the war to end just as much as you or I want it to.”
Vegeir nodded, “I believe that, man and dragon never would have gone to war if it had not been due to that unfortunate... event.”
“I’ve hear the stories Vegeir, Eskil’s concubine or something was killed during a peace talk.”
Vegeir spoke again, “Some things are not so simple Slayer.”
“Odin is having his son aid me, lending me his knowledge and strength. Loki, he knows of magic that will help us defeat Eskil once and for all.”
“This is madness slayer.” Davyn growled.
“Look, you need to-.” She shook her head with a sigh, trying to stay on topic. “Vegeir, you know the turmoil that boils in my soul each time I am faced against one of your kin. I do not like killing the dragons. I have found great allies with some of you, but others are still stuck in the old ways. They want nothing more than to have mortals become an extinct race, a pile of ash and bone for them to nest on. You know I must not let that happen.”
Vegeir and the priests nodded in agreement. “So what is this plan of yours?” Davyn asked with a frown.
Libelle chuckled nervously, “Well, it’ll sound a wee bit mad when I say it. But the logic and planning behind it makes it much more of a solid plan, more than we have had in a while. The gods are willing to lend us their strength, Loki has given me this scroll and within it is his power. He told me that using this scroll against Eskil, it will render him no more fearsome that a kitten.”
Vegeir chuckled, “That, would be a sight to see Slayer.”
“Yes, it would be. Loki said that this magic will make it so Eskil will not be able to harm any mortal. Odin believes that if the dragon ‘prince’ is unable to take a life, naturally the remaining dragons will change their opinion on this war. Either way, Eskil will not be able to harm any mortal. Not in this life or the next. He will not be able to take the life of a mortal, he will not be able to even command an action that will be known to cause harm to mortals.”
“This plan is testing my knowledge, however I am putting all of my faith into the gods. If they want this war to end, they will not fail us. That much I believe.”
Libelle looked amongst her companions who stared back at her silently, the wheels turning in their minds as they thought over the description of her plan. Yes, she agreed it sounded like lunacy but it was the only plan that they had. She waited for one of them to respond.
Davyn was the first to respond and actually scowled at Libelle, "This is madness Slayer, and you know it as well as I do."
"Yes!" She shouted at him without raising her head to look at him. "It is madness, yet maybe we need a little bit of madness to win this war. Everything I've done up till now has been for nothing!'
"Slayer, this will not work. Never has anything like this been done, combining magic and the strength of the gods? It will be chaos." Davyn said, trying to find an ounce of logic behind Libelle’s mad plan.
“Davyn, I am one of very few slayer’s left. The cursed beings are dying off one by one, and with our deaths the nord’s are losing the one thing that gave them hope in this war. We are mortal, but we have the soul of a dragon and with it their strength. If I don’t try, what’s to stop Eskil and his army from winning?”
She looked pleadingly towards the priests before looking back at Vegeir. "Please, all I ask is that we try this. I cannot do it without all of your help. If we don't try, we'd be giving up. If we cannot kill him, we can make it impossible for him to harm mortals."
Davyn sighed and looked at the rest of the men around him, they all stared at the woman with an expectant expression. They believed in her, the gods and her plan. “Vegeir, what is your opinion in all of this?"
Vegeir stared down at all the mortals, shifting his weight on his wings and adjusting his feet on the stone ledge he remained perched on. He had listened well to what the slayer explained, what she described. The plan did sound mad, yet it sounded plausible. There was a slim chance it could work, and a chance was all they needed.
"I believe we should put our faith into the gods, and our slayer."
Davyn sighed again, but nodded. The ancient ally of the priests had spoken, a decision had been made. Libelle returned her gaze to all the men, each one making eye contact with her and nodding. Another burst of wind sent a shiver through the mortals, the sun was hidden behind the thick clouds above them but it was nearing dusk. The temperatures would fall quickly once the sun set.
"We should discuss when this will all take place, let us move inside and we can talk about this further." Davyn said, motioning for the other priests to move inside. Their footsteps crunched in the snow as they walked towards the temple. They all paused a moment when the dragon behind them stirred and a low growl rumbled from his throat. He spread his wings and raised up onto his hind legs, his neck arching upwards towards the sky.
"There is no time. Prepare yourselves." Vegeir ordered.
The priests stood in line next to one another, looking slightly puzzled at Vegeir’s rare display of anger. His threatening appearance was not common to their view and opinion of him, he was always seen as a calm dragon with no will to harm. Libelle drew her sword and tossed the light scroll to Davyn who clumsily caught it. She stood wide, sinking her feet into the snow and trying to find solid ground beneath her. She sensed the ominous presence that Vegeir had, and they both stared into the thick fog above them.
"Show yourself brother." Vegeir said coolly.
Libelle glanced over her shoulder to them, "Be prepared to open that scroll and begin praying, I need all four of your voices. Do not worry, I can do this with your help. We can do this."
Olief nodded, giving her a mild bow. Jolgeir and Kirk looked at Davyn who took a deep breath. They waited only one more moment before the black devil emerged from the thick fog with a loud roar. He stayed hovering above them, his large black wings beating the snow into the air and sending chilling winds all around.
Eskil was considerably larger than his brother Vegeir. His ebony scales were in finer condition and light beat off them, his wings were strong and not tattered. His eyes were a vibrant gold and blazing as he looked over the gathered mortals and traitorous dragon. His nostrils flared and his lip curled once again in a snake-smile.
"Look at this, all of my prey has gathered here. You will all be so easy to devour." His voice rumbled, his tone deadly. "Slayer, I have been looking for you. Where have you been hiding?"
Libelle felt the same fear as before creep through her, it started in her throat and fell into the pit of her stomach. She was scared, she wanted to run. Why? She has faced Eskil before and never felt this level of terror. What had changed? She felt his fiery gaze burn through her, like he was staring into her soul. She looked up to his eyes, hers wide and his narrowed.
Swallowing hard she tried to force her fear away, she needed to remain calm. "You appeared at a perfect time Eskil, we were just talking about you."
His voice purred, "Oh, were you now?" He spun around in the sky, soaring about before landing on one of the large pillars that hadn't completely crumbled to the ground. His feet placed closely beneath him and his spiked wing grasping the carved stones. "What have you been discussing?"
Vegeir climbed down from his ledge, his gaze never leaving Eskil's form. He slowly trudged through the snow, his tail swaying back and forth spreading the snow back and covering the prints his heavy feet and wings made. Eskil watched as he moved, then his gaze returned to Libelle’s as Vegeir stopped by her side.
“Slayer," Vegeir said in a hushed tone. "Keep him on the ground."
"Right." She whispered back.
"You were right. He had reason to draw you out. His reasons are far worse than death I fear.” Vegeir looked at her from the corner of his eye, warning was in his sentence and it made her swallow the lump in her throat. He glared back up at Eskil, "Brother, you must cease this war. You have turned from the path you were born to, you’ve turned away from the light."
Eskil chuckled, "Fool."
He then pushed himself upwards and took to the sky again, Vegeir followed. Within moments the two dragons, both thousands of years old began to fight in their ancient ways, bursts of flames sprouted from their mouths to inflict damage upon the other. Fiery breath lit up the evening sky, turning the light snowfall into a heavy rain. The scenario looked like it was a battle of good versus evil; Vegeir who fought in an attempt to protect mortals from the unending terror that Eskil had returned to the world. Eskil, the dragon ‘prince’ birthed from Búri, wanting nothing else but to dominate the land. To slay all those who opposed him, to force the world into a new era. One where dragons would rule the land.
Vegeir bellowed from the sky as he evaded a fiery ball that erupted from Eskil's mouth. "Slayer! Bring him down!"
Libelle looked back at the priests, "The moment he touches the snow, begin chanting! The scroll will show you what to say! Do not hesitate!"
She turned back towards the dragons fighting and inhaled a deep breath, readying her bow to strike Eskil’s body, only to be interrupted with a shocked gasp. The priests behind her inhaled sharply, and all their eyes widened as Vegeir let out a raspy roar. Eskil proved momentarily stronger, and he seized an opportunity to clamp his sharp fangs onto Vegeir's neck.
Blood rushed from the wounds and the ivory dragon flailed and thrashed about before Eskil shook his head hard. Vegeir let out another pain filled howl, when Eskil released him: only to roar once more at his kin. Vegeir went still and his wings became limp as he plummeted towards the unforgiving ground.
His body hit the mountain side with a great force, shaking the stone beneath him and waves of snow rushing down the slopes at a great speed. Vegeir did not move, his head did not rise, and he did not breathe. Eskil roared triumphantly in the sky above them, his pearly white fangs now stained in blood.
Davyn shouted, his voice shaky. "Vegeir!" There was no answer, the old dragon didn't flinch.
Libelle felt the tension rise inside of her, and from the grey beards behind her. They were all so angry now, fueled with vengeance: a desire to right the wrong and bring down the beast in front of them. "Eskil! You'll pay for that!"
Eskil chuckled, feeling far superior to the mortals who trembled on the ground beneath him. He would pay? He thought, amused. He would see about that. Slowly lowering himself to the ground in front of Libelle, he smiled wickedly at her. Here he planned to break the female slayer, he would take the lives of the feeble men in robes who stood shaking behind her. He would break her will to fight, her spirit, she would fall on this snowy cliff surrounded by the corpses of her most relied-on-allies.
Then, then his fun would begin.
His golden eyes widened however as he was taken by an even greater surprise as the slayer stood just a few feet away from him, her teeth were ground together and her blue eyes were burning. She was not wearing her armor, obviously not prepared or expecting his arrival.
Her slim body shook in the cold, her leather boots darkening as the snow melted and absorbed into the material. The material of her pants clung to her skin, the animal flesh protecting her from the cold no more than as if she wore thin wool robes. Even her flimsy cotton shirt waved in the wind, revealing her pale ivory skin. Her long leather jacket, dyed a deep ebony was pulling her backwards with each gust of wind.
“Slayer,” He purred at her, “-at last.”
The elven female had a strong spine, and an even stronger soul. Despite her many attempts to take his life, she never seemed to lose faith. She was the strongest slayer he had ever had the pleasure to encounter, she was the only one he didn’t have the desire to kill right away. He wanted to toy with her, too slowly break her will and make her beg for death. It thrilled him that her icy blue eyes only sparked to life when he was in her presence. It was exhilarating, he was the only creature that could make her stir.
Her lips were quivering, the once rosy red and full lips were now pale from the cold. Her light yellow hair was waving, the braid that was holding it together was being pulled from its tie. She curled her mouth into a snarl-like frown, before she spoke her next words.
“Loki, Thor. Aid me here and now.”
She felt their presence at her side, as did Eskil whose head lowered with a threatening growl. Eskil looked past her towards the priests who were up to something, he was about to use his fiery breath against them when he was suddenly blinded by an intense and bright light. He snarled and was forced to close his eyes, then he felt a hot band form around his neck. His body was much heavier than before, it felt like he was being weighted down without the ability to ever rise again. The invisible force around his neck grew hotter and heavier, it was constricting him and making it difficult to breath.
What was the Slayer up to? What was she doing? The blinding light faded, allowing him to open his eyes and return his gaze to the woman who still stood in front of him. She was speaking, her lush lips forming words that he could not hear. Behind her still stood the four priests, they were all chanting together. Their mouths moved and spoke at the same time, but still he was unable to hear them. Their arms were up in front of them, their palms open and facing what appeared to be a scroll enchanted with magic. It hovered off the ground between the old men and the Slayer.
“What magic is this?” He growled, but he didn’t recognize his voice.
He didn’t like this situation, this was not what he had planned. Here he did not have the upper hand and he did not understand what was going on. His hearing began to clear, starting at nothing before he heard a mild ringing in his ear drums. Eventually, he was able to hear their chanting.
The priests were speaking in an ancient language, one that he was familiar with only due to learning from his creator. The Slayer still stood close him, but her chanting did not match that of the old men’s. She spoke in the native tongue of the nord’s, and her words formed what he had to assume was some type of prayer. Her gaze remained locked with his as she forced herself to calmly speak the words.
He felt the ground begin to shake beneath him, and how they did not fear an avalanche was amusing, the continued quake of this foreign magic would surely lead to the thickly packed snow to release itself from the jagged rocks and slide into the courtyard: burying everyone here.
The ground continued to shake, gaining an increase of force he could see the snow begin to shift. He wanted out of this situation, the constricting power of whatever was wrapped around his neck was growing to be more than just an irritant. He didn’t want to be grounded any longer, the heaviness of his body was terrifying. He wanted to be back in the sky, to have the upper hand again.
Libelle inhaled and exhaled slowly before continuing the chant, all was moving along just as she had planned. Just as it was supposed to go. Eskil was forced to the ground of the courtyard, he was unable to return to the sky while the mischievous god Loki’s power was in effect. Now that the scroll’s power had activated, there were several glowing chains of gold wrapped around his body. The enchanted and magical chains were tightly bound around his neck, over his back, his wings, and his tail and around his legs. The strength of the chains increased as her prayers continued, and with their strength they became heavier and heavier. There would be no way he could break from the restraints, he could not return to the sky.
The ebony dragon glared at her, his mouth moving as he spoke but his words went unheard to her. She didn’t break her chant even as the voice of the gods increased, their strength flooded into her, and her knees almost buckled as the stone beneath her feet shook with tremendous force.
Eskil reared his head back as he spat out curses at her, fire sparking in his mouth as he prepared to shower her in a blaze of flames. Even with her surprise, she forced herself to continue speaking, even while locking her gaze to the ivory dragon next to her. Vegeir slammed his tail town across Eskil’s head, the force causing the ebony dragon to clamp its teeth together and his head slammed back down into the snow.
Eskil shook his head, shaking off the pain ripping through his mind. He attempted to raise his head again, this time in the direction of the Vegeir. Fire burst from his mouth again, but the flames died out quickly when Vegeir slammed his tail back down onto Eskil’s horned skull.
Vegeir turned around to face the black devil, blood dripping from the fresh wounds around his scaly neck. “Move back Libelle.” He said stepping in between the five mortals, and his immortal brother.
He opened his mouth and fire exploded from his mouth this time, the blaze lasted as long as the old dragon could exhale. He inhaled again, and more fire burst from his mouth. He continued this as long as he could, each breathe caused Eskil pain and forced him back down onto the bare stone slab as the snow turned to water, which turned to steam under the intense heat.
The priests continued their chant, reading the inscription off the scroll while Libelle continued her prayers. She felt Thor’s strong hand on her shoulder, Loki’s words in her ear sending shivers down her back.
Vegeir continued his assault with his fiery breath. Eskil roared several times in a row, he struggled to break the tight bond of the gold chains that bound him to the earth. He was clearly in pain from the combined force of all of their powers. He still held his gaze with Libelle’s, his eyes burned with mixed emotions.
Libelle raised her hands in front of her, her index fingers and thumbs touching together. The thundering voices of the old men slowly began to fade, the loud and echoing chant fading as their part in this potentially futile plan was over. Libelle held her breath for a moment, moving her hands so her fingers were no longer touching. In between her palms formed bright static light, flecks of gold and silver began to spark off a translucent orb. The magical ball was steady between her grasp, it only spun ever so slightly as it seemed to build up power.
Libelle’s blue eyes found Eskil’s again, and her eyes began to spark just like the orb. Bright colors of gold, silver, even reds and oranges: power was building up within her and the orb she had created.
She inhaled again before she spoke, and she spoke slowly. “Eskil, I bind thee.”
The simple phrase seemed to spark energy within herself and within the orb, the once bright colors darkened and the orb became solid. It was now black as night, black as his soul. The sparks bouncing from its surface and from her eyes were just as dark, just as ominous.
She dropped her hands as the orb launched itself forward, away from her and in his direction. Eskil thought it might impale him, but instead it rushed to find a spot above him where it paused momentarily, hovering over his body. He glanced up at it before looking back at her, a growl ripping from his throat as he smiled at her. He would make her pay dearly for all this trouble that she was causing him.
The black orb suddenly exploded, causing a large cloud of black fog to cover Eskil. His entire body disappeared into the dense smoke, he could not see out of it and no one could see into it. Vegeir pushed his wounded body upwards into the sky and quickly found a safe perch on one of the stone ledges, his gaze never leaving the event unfolding in front of him. The priests all retreating to what they assumed was a safe distance, Davyn grabbing hold of Libelle’s arm and dragging her with them.
Despite not being able to see what was occurring in the black fog, they could hear every pain-filled roar erupt from Eskil’s fanged mouth. Something was happening to the dragon and none could say what it was.
Davyn spoke up first when Eskil made what seemed like his last roar of defiance. “What is happening? Did the gods warn about any of this?”
Libelle shook her head, “No, none of this.”
“Is it killing him?” Davyn asked.
“I don’t know. I do not know what is even happening.” Libelle was truly worried, if their plan had failed this could be the end of all of them. If this all works, Eskil will no longer be able to harm any mortals. If this does not work, he could burst from that cloud of smoke at any moment and kill them all. All they could do now was to wait until the dense haze faded, and to see what course of action Eskil would take.