A Familiar Foe - Book 5

Changed (VALI)

It took three weeks to repair the Bifrost, in which time the rain on Asgard barely faded. The city flooded and most citizens were forced to evacuate into the palace, which Thor opened to everyone as it had the highest elevation. The people were resilient, but tensions were high, and the soldiers who had emerged from Hela's enchantment used humility and service to make up for their forced misdeeds.

The dead couldn't be buried with the weather being what it was. Father froze the bodies instead and had them covered to preserve them until they could be properly cast away. It was grim, heartbreaking, and the open wound no one would speak of.

Speaking of wounds, mine was deep enough to threaten my life if I hadn't been tended to as quickly as I was. Doctors required me to stay in their care until I could go back to Narvlheim with my family, and I was advised not to take visitors beyond them. It was too risky to my recovery if I became worked up. I needed to maintain my strong countenance so the citizens would know I hadn't faltered or failed in any way.

After all, my reign became much closer after Modi's incident. Mum said I was on an accelerated track to the throne now, as Thor had all but completely demolished the people's trust. I simultaneously craved Modi's demise as I did dread my responsibilities. It was too much, too soon, too real, too painful...and altogether unfair.

Father kept me apprised of Hela's condition, detailing a multitude of potions and poisons in Modi's chambers used to control her were largely unpredictable. Whatever happened to her between when she awoke on the field and when she fell silent was still a mystery, and she'd only barely stirred in the weeks since then. My dear sister was alive, but she wasn't really living, bound to a bed and watched around the clock in case her status changed.

We returned to Narvlheim quietly, anxious about when Modi would reappear and if we were his primary targets. So we left in secret and Thor reappointed Heimdall's son Vördin as the Bifrost gatekeeper. Rumor had it, Thor's decision to leave the portal to the people a year ago was a catalyst for Modi's plans to takeover. It was added to the list of reasons why, despite it being Modi's violent act that caused such turmoil, Thor carried the brunt of the blame.

Narvlheim, compared to Asgard, was quiet and dry. It was darker, too, as it had always been, but a shadow fell over our world. Uncertainty. Anxiety. Insecurity. Until I knew what Hela had revealed to our enemy, I'd never feel safe closing my eyes.

Yet safety aside, whenever I dozed, I saw Gunnar's face. Saw the running list of names that dripped with red like they'd been scrawled across my inner walls. Gunnar. Erik. Arvid. Tyrell. Finn. Sven. Joral. Shane. Crispin. Carr. Bolin. Alarick. Annar. Stellan. Oscar. Ryan. Liam. Noah. Luke. Nathan. Wallace.

Wallace's image was always the worst. I heard his soft voice accompanying his last breath and it yanked me from sleep. Pulled me from my bed in a panic that tugged at my wound and made me cry out, too. "No...no!" I yelled, panting like I was on the field, defenseless and without a weapon because Father thought I might hurt myself by accident.

Mum rushed in to comfort me every time. I shrank in age because of it. Here I was, a grown man of nearly thirty, sleeping in his childhood bed and finding solace with his mother.

"Shh...were you dreaming again?" She dragged her hand up and down my spine.

I clenched my jaw, my fists, my eyelids. "They're not dreams."

Mum sighed. "Yes, they are."

"No." I stood and snapped at her. "They're not. They're not dreams. Stop telling me what I'm feeling."

"Vali—"

"If they were dreams, I wouldn't feel them. I wouldn't still hear them. I wouldn't still see them. If they were just dreams, I'd be able to forget them. But I can't forget them, Mum. This shit is here forever." I tapped at my forehead and grimaced, tearing up in my despair. "All my life I was trained how to do it. All my life I was told it was hard. No one ever told me I might know all their names. That I'd hear them beg for mercy after I pulled my knife away. I can't bring them back, Mum. I can't." I burst into sobs and fell against the table on the opposite side of the room from my bed, knocking over whatever books or knickknacks were on the edge. "Why can't I bring them back?"

Father came in after my clamour and waved Mum away. "As soon as this is over, I'm going to have you speak with someone about this. If we don't heal your mind from this, it will haunt you forever."

I scoffed and wiped my tears angrily, though they didn't stop. "I think it's a bit too late for that."

"I know it's difficult now. But these were casualties of war. You didn't harm them out of your own will. There's an enormous difference, son."

"Did you ever think to warn me about this? That not only might I know the men I killed, but that I might have to continue on as if it hadn't happened?"

He sighed the same way Mum did. "No one thinks you have to do that."

"Yes, they do. Everyone who wants me to wake up tomorrow and become King thinks that. 'Be strong, Vali,' they all say, like it's simple and part of my duty." I slapped the last decorative crystal from my tabletop and focused on the pain it shot through my hand in hopes it would lessen the pangs in my heart. "It's not fair. Not to them, not to me. Why did I live, and they didn't?"

"Your guilt is misplaced," Father said gently.

"It isn't." I folded my arms tightly. "If I hadn't been distracted, I would've noticed all of this. I would've protected them. Might've kept Hela from his grasp. I don't deserve relief from this."

Father gaped in pained sympathy, but he offered no words. Just as well. He couldn't change my mind anyway.

"I have a single target now. A solitary goal. I will not rest until he's found, Father. He will bleed for me, or I will not ascend."

End Of Book 5