Rise Of Myth: Heir To Valor 12 Mark Of The Hoarfros

A pile of wooden slabs lay near Val, all of them scorched, cut, burned, or cracked, with blackened runes carved into them as if engraved with a laser. In the span of a day he had grown proficient with carving every rune into the wood, almost to the point of second nature. Karl was correct; as Val practiced a few times with each rune, he had found that the technique for a given rune would simply come to him upon recalling the feeling, his body just took over from there.

For some of the runes that he had already begun to understand, like 'Feoh' for flames and 'Is' for ice, he had experimented on the logs themselves. This was the cause for some particularly scorched through slabs and some had frozen so badly they cracked and split along the grains. He only stopped experimenting so recklessly after Karl pointed to a sizable pile of ruined slabs, telling him ruefully that the slabs were there for him to practice carving runes. Karl still wanted the slabs back later for firewood.

"Hey, Karl, what's the trick to carving the runes into the air? You're not seriously going to tell me I'm supposed to walk around with slabs of wood to use magic are you?" Val asked with an eyebrow raised.

Karl simply chuckled. "Not so much with runes, but as I recall, your ancestors on the j.a.panese side did exactly that, in a sense. But no, I do not expect you to do that with the runes."

Karl held up a particularly marked slab and inspected it with his eye. "Your carvings are more precise now, I think I can teach you the next step."

Val stood up from his abused pile of wooden slabs and walked over.

"The trick to using the runes as I do lies in the problem itself, how do you carve runes into a substance as fluid as air?" Karl asked.
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Val shrugged, having tried it and failed numerous times already. "This is a trick question right? You can't."

Karl held up his hand to face his open palm towards Val, and very slowly this time, carved the rune for fire into the air. As he did so, he moved his arm to the side, showing him the rune at an angle.

Realization struck Val as his eyes widened, trying to observe every detail of the demonstration. As his viewing angle increased, he noticed the rune becoming thinner and thinner until it looked like a perfectly straight vertical line.

"How are you able to carve a completely flat surface in the air?" Val asked curiously.

"The trick really lies outside of the specific practice of Runic arts. Magic exists to bend, shape, or even break Natural Law. Exert your will on the magic in the air to hold it in a still plane, then carve your rune onto that plane." Karl explained.

Doing as he instructed, Val imagined a 'sheet of air', using the clearest gla.s.s pane he could think of as a reference. To his delight, it was impossibly easy to carve onto, much like simply drawing, far easier than the rough wooden slabs. A second later though, as he was halfway into carving his rune, the plane he had created wobbled and fell apart, causing Karl to chuckle.

"The plane is easy to carve, but holding it for very long takes a much finer degree of control than you might expect. You can do it as you are now, but until you practice more, you will have to carve your runes swiftly in order to have time remaining to pour in your mana and invoke them." Karl walked away laughing, seemingly pleased he still held a vast lead on Val in terms of rune carving skill.

Annoyed, Val returned to his wooden slabs, focusing on improving the speed at which he could carve the runes clearly. He could not hold the plane for very long, but he realized the purpose of the uneven logs was to give him practice leveraging a rune effectively on a rough surface, much like the plane as it began to wobble and fall apart.

Occasionally he practiced air carving, focusing particularly on improving his finesse at holding a plane of air still. He could maintain it for a couple seconds, but the second he started carving, it became much harder to maintain its still form. Pieces started to fall into place and he was improving quickly however. It was like trying to draw a shape on a still surface of water without creating ripples, he filled a basin with water and took a stick to practice this very image. Val felt stupid doing it but he was sure something in his mind was digesting and benefiting from this concept.

Huginn lounged in a chair observing Val's practice with interest, and a note of satisfaction in his eye. Instead of taking it as reinforcement that his idea was sound, Val thought the raven was quietly mocking him and moved to block the bird's view.

It was noon and Val walked back over to the camp for some food when he saw Muninn had returned, and was discussing something seriously with Karl.

"How many are there?" Karl asked.

"At least 400 were on the streets alone. I could not scout enough of the buildings, but considering the size of some of them and one of them being a large medical center, I would guess there's a little over 2000 in the entire city." Muninn reported.

"How many humans?"

"Just under a hundred, they are all encamped in the warehouse, one of them was grievously injured, a young teenager."

Val heard the last bit and interrupted. "Who was injured? Is he alive?"

Karl and Muninn turned to look at Val, the grave expressions on their face immediately confirmed something was wrong in the East.

"What's going on with the survivors?" Val asked.

Karl sighed. "I suspected this might be an issue, but I did not expect it to happen so soon."

"What do you mean?"

"Ghouls." Karl replied.

"Ghouls? Like zombies?"

"Not the kind your people are obsessed with these days, the magical kind." Karl gestured upwards with a finger, the action not at all understood by Val.

Muninn thankfully provided an explanation. "When the Merging occurred, hundreds of millions of humans died between the beginning and the following week. More have possibly pa.s.sed since then. The realms of the dead cannot take so many souls all at once, whether turned away or unable to reach their afterlife, these souls remain here in this realm, lost, sometimes vengeful, but in all cases, they are a tortured existence. Existing in this realm as a soul is desolate and painful, structurally the soul is like the magic in the air, it needs anima to live in balance. Normally when one pa.s.ses, the soul remains in this world for merely moments, before pa.s.sing on and being welcomed by the keeper of whatever realm they are destined to proceed to. There they will be provided with new anima, constructing a sort of vessel or sometimes an actual body for the soul, depending on the realm."

Val listened intently but did not quite understand the a.s.sociation.

Karl picked up the explanation and continued. "Lost souls here grow more warped with each pa.s.sing moment, they gather free magic in the air and bind it to their own will. Very often they will seek out fresh corpses and possess them, but corpses lack a life force, they are missing anima. Lacking anima but possessing a body that will move according to their will, they will prey on anima of the living, be it animals, humans, or other races. However they cannot process it and take it for themselves, but they neither know that nor care, they are driven by a singular hunger to acquire anima to end their torture."

"So… Still basically zombies." Val pointed out what he thought was obvious.

"Killing them is not so easy, even if you do disable the body, whether by impairing them or destroying the brain, after a time the soul may leave that body, still trapped in this realm, it will simply find another host. Very rarely, they will even come to possess a living creature whose thoughts or intentions align with its own. Even more rare, but extremely dangerous, a soul will have existed here long enough to gather enough magic to regain sentience and form a soul body." Karl elaborated.

"You're s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g with me, you're telling me there's up to a couple billion potential zombies and bogeymen on this planet now?" Val asked dubiously.

"Not that many, but a fraction of that number is likely, if this is now manifesting itself so prevalently nearby." Karl said.

"How do we get rid of them then? Can I destroy the soul with magic?"

"The soul can be destroyed, yes, it is a structure similar enough to magic. Anti-magic arms or arts can harm or destroy them. I ask you not to do so unless you are desperate, however."

"Why not?"

"…This is not a fate they were supposed to have, they were taken far too early, in too large a number all at once. It has been some time since the Merging, the keepers of the dead should be collecting the ones still lost without a physical form. Their realms should be able to accept these souls now. Did you read about 'Hagal'?" Karl asked.

"I have. What will I use it for though? It's the symbol of the h.o.a.rfrost isn't it? Doesn't it just make objects heavier?" Val asked curiously, he did read about the rune, but it was one of the more nuanced runes with much of the text not translated, and he had not studied enough yet to properly read it.

"It is also Heimdall's mark, carve the rune upon their bodies then burn them with fire. 'Hagal' will draw the soul before Heimdall to be judged and sent to the appropriate realm. It may not be where they were destined, but it is an afterlife nonetheless. I doubt we will draw the ire of other keepers for taking souls originally destined for them, considering the situation, and Heimdall owes me a few favors regardless." Karl suggested.

Val caught the implication in Karl's words, a look of surprise on his face. "Hold on, you want *me* to go?"

Karl smiled and made an innocent expression, giving Val gooseb.u.mps watching an old man trying to feign powerlessness. "You aren't suggesting a retired old man such as I make the journey, are you? Besides, you wished to go find other survivors, you should now have both the will and a reason to do so, no?"

"Fine, it's probably better company than talking to a sly old bird and two actual birds."

Karl laughed as his next words left Huginn stammering in complaint. "Huginn, Muninn, you two will accompany Val, a.s.sist him as you would me."

"My lord! I must object, I must remain here with you, ensuring the goblins remain where they are!" Huginn complained.

Contrary to his act earlier, Karl insisted. "I'm retired, not helpless, the goblins won't come here, they can't even find this place, Nature herself s.h.i.+elds my presence here. Think of it as a task from me, accompany the boy, see the world, we don't know who our neighbors are or whether the elder races have arrived. Report your findings back to me when you return."

Val was not thrilled at the prospect of the two ravens accompanying him. He especially did not want to be seen as a crazy person talking to birds and he could imagine the kind of pranks Muninn might play, but consented nonetheless, they were capable and might prove invaluable.

"So, what will you do while we're gone?" Val asked.

"Hmm… I think I'm tired of sleeping in a tent, I might start upon a house, right here. A grand hall where I might host wondrous feasts again." Karl mused to himself.

Unable to quite picture the idea of a large Nordic hall Karl was describing with both vague and grand gestures, Val started packing some food and supplies.

"Oh, Val, before you head off on your little adventure, I have something that might help you." Karl recalled as he headed into his tent.

He emerged with a worn, long leather scabbard, they were faint, but Val could make out some kind of depiction carved into the leather, along with small rune etchings.

"This belonged to a friend of mine long ago, do take good care of it." Karl instructed as he handed him the scabbard.

A long leather bound grip protruded from the scabbard, enough for two hands to grip. A simple, circular steel pommel at the end had a single rune matching the mark on his chest.

Karl watched with satisfaction as Val inspected the blade. Drawing the blade he noted it was a longsword, worn in many places, but still frighteningly sharp. Along the blade were various faded runic etchings and patterns. Sheathing the blade again, he held it in front of him, staring intently at the rune etched into the pommel. He had read about it and could read it now.

Val whispered the rune to himself, admiring the gift.

"Tyr…"