Ylva cries as they fade away to the Vanishing Isle, her heart breaking. Her father stands beside her, watching, wishing he could ease her pain. He has watched her as she grew to love Asger. He kept silent, wanting to stop it but knowing that you cannot change what the heart wants. Now he only wants to ease her pain, having loved only one in his life, he understands. Morrigan is both his greatest love and also his greatest suffering. Years ago, when he first felt her battle call and he lay near death, he thought she came to take him to Valhalla, but instead, she nursed him and then loved him. Her love is like a raging fire, all-consuming, and he bathes in it, but she too often had to leave. He knows she does not wish to leave him or their daughter, once she was born, but her duties takes her far from them. So yes, he understands Ylva’s heartache. Moving to her side, he pulls her into his arms. He tucks her head on his shoulder and carries her down the mountain like when she was little. Just the fact that she does not protest, alerts him to the level of her upset. Once inside, he sits in his chair. He rocks her back and forth, while the sobs are torn from her body. Her eyes are closed, but if they had been open, he would spy them take on the blue of her Berserker heritage. They would often change when she was a child and upset, long before she learned control. They sit like this for what seems like hours.
They are unaware that Danu watches from her home, torn between her daughter's needs and her granddaughter's heart. Ylva’s unique heritage makes her magic so very powerful. Her father is a Berserker, descended from her Grandfather’s people. The humans know them as Norse gods. Her daughter, Morrigan is a mixture of the wild nature magic from myself and the raging battle magic of Odin. Ylva is the strongest of all Halflings, her temperament runs cool like my own but she has a fire within her that burns so hot its flames are blue like her Berserker eyes.
Ylva snuggles in her father’s lap until she can calm her pounding heart and pull her magic back under control. When Asger stepped through the portal, she felt something break free. A buried wild part of her magic was released. It frightened her. All her life, both her mother and father, had taught her control. They warned her that she must keep it restrained. Finally she sits up, kissing her father’s cheek, she whispers in his ear, “Thank you, Da.”
“Always, daughter. I only wish I could’ve spared ye this heartache.”
Smiling sadly at him, she rises, moving to stare at the fire. How could she explain her feelings for Asger? They had been powerful before, but after the ritual, it is a thousand times more intense. She feels wild and out of control, her magic is reaching for him. Even here in this dimension away from the Isle, she can feel the dragon, his power singing out to her. She is trembling. Gripping the mantle, she leans her head forward, bracing on it, trying to gain control. Reaching for the calmness she inherited from Danu, she stills her mind before turning with a slight smile for her father. “ye all hae taught me well. I will temper these emotions. I will control this.” A look of doubt is in his eyes, but he smiles encouragingly.
* * *
Weeks pass and her mood only grows more turmoiled. She lashes out at those around her and she is always on the verge of a Berserker rage. She is practicing swords with her father in the yard, when she snaps. Her magic rises and she forces him to his knees before realizing what she has done. Crying out in despair, she drops her sword and turns, racing for the summit where she often meets her mother. As she stands gulping air, a massive storm rolls, blowing her raven hair around her face. Lightning crashes all around her as electricity builds. The villagers stand, staring up at her, frightened of her power. They behold her eyes glowing with her rage, shining bright blue in the darkening sky. She resembles an avenging God and they can feel the magic she is releasing. In her fury, she lets the wards drop. She calls to her a magnificent stallion, black as the night. She leaps upon his back, racing away into the mountains, lightning following her path.
* * *
Making her way back home days later, she returns to devastation. Bodies of the villagers lie broken and bloody; men, women and children, her people. She whips her head toward her home and views flames and smoke billowing. She uses her supernatural speed to reach it in moments. “FATHER!” she screams, the sound echoes off the mountains, it has the power of her Mother’s battle cry.
Morrigan appears in an instant, called by her daughter's anguish. The Goddess cries out and races into the flames, using her magic to protect herself as she searches for her love. She finds him, fallen with an ax still in his back, arm outstretched, reaching for her raven’s feather. He had left a trail of destruction trying to call for aid to save his people. She had given the feather from her own wing to allow him to summon her if he ever had the need. Falling to her knees, she drags him to her. All these years she has held him close, keeping him in this world. Long after he wished to go to the next realm. She was afraid of losing him and facing eternity alone. Her magic flexes out in her anguish. Her own battle cry fills the air, sounding across the land. Ylva is on her knees beside her, begging for her to bring him back, asking for forgiveness.
Their anger and heartache reach out across dimensions to the Vanishing Isle. It draws the other gods up short, they all turn their magic to Morrigan. Danu appears at their side, eyes taking in the destruction. She kneels beside them and pulls them both into her arms, sifting them and Einar to her home. She sends others to check for survivors; they return with none.
Ylva sobs. She holds tightly to her father, rocking him. Morrigan pulls his hand to her face, kissing it, breathing deeply to take in his scent. It is mere moments until a Valkyrie appears, sent by her father Odin, to take Einer’s soul. He had earned his place long ago and even today he fought like a warrior. Shaking her head, Ylva will not release him. Her mother leans close, whispering in her ear, reminding her of her father’s wishes. Danu grips her shoulders, pulling her away as Morrigan joins hands with the Valkyrie. They take her love to Valhalla, so she can say goodbye one last time.
Breaking away from her grandmother, Ylva rushes to the portal, knowing only that she must get away. Her heart has shattered into a million pieces, it is now a deep hole that she thinks will never be filled. Her mind is in chaos as she berates herself for letting her father be killed. She let the wards fall she allowed the others to reach him.
All those that can feel it are startled at the magnitude of her power. Danu herself, is even surprised by its vastness. From very early on, Morrigan has taught her daughter to control her rage. She had feared those that would seek to use Ylva, so they hid it, ensuring no one was aware of its potential.
Asger and his dragon are battered by her magic; it is undulating, like waves crashing upon the rocks. The dragon senses it as another beast, one that has slipped its leash. As she steps through the portal, she turns and spies the dragon flying to her. Her magic calling so strongly, even Asger cannot stop him from bursting free.