Earth's End

“Vhalla!” Daniel clamored to his feet from sitting at the base of a nearby tree, out of sight of any patrolmen.

She stared at the horizon, where the moon hung low.

“I was just about to go for help.” He raced over to her.

“What?” Vhalla continued to stare at the sky, the stars already dimming. She saw what she didn’t want to see. “I was only gone for a bit, an hour ... maybe.”

“You were gone for hours,” Daniel corrected. He walked around to stand before her, blocking her dull stare. His eyes quickly went to the weapon she held in a vice-like grip. “Mother, what is that?”

Vhalla gazed at the blade in shock; she’d somehow forgotten she was holding it. It glittered faintly in the start of dawn, giving off its own unnatural light. Her eyes darted to Daniel. She hadn’t thought through what she would do when she got the blade. She hadn’t planned on Daniel, of all people, knowing about it.

“I have to hide it,” Vhalla whispered urgently. “No one can know I have it.”

“What is it?” Daniel seemed honestly unsure.

“It doesn’t matter.” Vhalla shook her head, her insides twisting from withholding the information. As accepting as Daniel was about magic, she knew he would not be enthused about the idea of crystals. Not even sorcerers were enthused about the idea of crystals. It seemed the only people who had ever been excited by them were madmen and murderers. “It’s almost dawn. I have to go back.”

Her face tightened in panic. Vhalla shifted from foot to foot. She couldn’t bring it back to Aldrik. She couldn’t risk him seeing it, now knowing how even the idea of crystals put him on edge.

Should she bury it? What if someone saw the soft earth and dug? What if she couldn’t get it deep enough and rain or walking feet exposed it? The one place she knew it would be safe was with Minister Victor; he’d know what to do. But he was at the other end of the earth.

“Help me.” Daniel frantically worked on the clips of his armor.

Vhalla stared in dumb confusion.

“Vhalla, help me get out of this.”

She stared at the axe in her hand, at a loss for how she could help Daniel while holding it with her white-knuckled grip.

“Vhalla,” Daniel spoke more gently. “Put the axe down and help me.”

Obeying his order was easier than trying to sort through the overwhelming confusion that clouded her mind. Vhalla dropped the axe and returned to life. She was at Daniel’s side, deftly unclipping his plate and pauldrons. All the time that she’d spent with him as Serien had given her fingers a surprising ease around a swordsman’s armor. Daniel dropped the armor to the ground, pulling off his chainmail vest after. He didn’t bother unstrapping his arm leathers, instead Daniel plucked a dagger from underneath his greave and cut off his shirt around the arms.

Vhalla stared in red-faced uncertainty as he thrust the scrap of cloth at her. She’d never seen him bare-chested before, and his work with the sword was apparent. Aldrik was all lean ropey muscle from relying on his sorcery as his strength and days of focusing solely on books. Daniel was a study in what the male form looked like when it was trained hard. The two men were practically a thesis in contrasts.

“Vhalla.” Daniel shook the fabric, summoning her back to reality. “Wrap it in this.”

Realizing what his intentions had been, Vhalla snatched the cloth and knelt to carefully bind the axe with it. She’d expected a weapon that was legendary for cutting through anything to melt through the fabric like a hot knife in butter. But the blade allowed the fabric to be wrapped around it once, twice, three times.

By the time Vhalla stood, Daniel had almost finished putting his plate back on. She helped him tighten the few remaining clips he couldn’t reach easily on his own.

“You need to go back, don’t you?” Daniel asked as she stepped away.

Vhalla nodded mutely. Who she was going back to hovered so heavily in the air it was as though the prince himself was gracing them with his presence.

“I’ll take this.” Daniel picked up the axe. “And hide it. No one has any reason to suspect or search my things. You can get it later.”

“Don’t use it on anything,” Vhalla cautioned. She didn’t have any particular reason to warn him against doing so, but it felt right. There was a deeper power to that blade that Vhalla didn’t trust. She wasn’t sure if she even trusted herself to hold it again. “And try not to touch it too much,” Vhalla added, thinking of crystal corruption a moment too late.

“I won’t be sleeping with it or anything,” Daniel chuckled. Vhalla’s remained resolute. “Fine, I won’t; you have my word.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, run along, Lady Vhalla. Or else you’ll ruin the illusion that you’ve been asleep in bed this whole time.” He gave her a tired smile.

Vhalla took a step backward, not yet ready to stop looking at him. “Thank you,” she whispered, hoping he knew she meant it for so much more than the weapon he held in his hand.

“Always.” Daniel nodded.

Vhalla turned, pulled up her hood, and tried to draw as little attention to herself as possible all the way back to the camp palace. The further she got from the blade, the easier she began to feel. But there was a singular sensation that didn’t waver until Aldrik returned to her side later. The sensation lingered until the prince, oblivious to her adventures, made her focus only on her lover, forgetting all else but his touch.