Chapter Text
Dearest Lord Heim,
I suppose I owe you quite the apology.
---
Edain doesn’t like parties- at least, she doesn’t anymore. Even now, two years after Brigid’s disappearance, all of the adults in the room treat her like she’s made of glass- and even worse, sometimes, she almost feels like they might be right. Her sister’s name said at the wrong time makes her head hurt and her eyes go glassy, so much so that she has to turn away and wipe her face off with a fervor that would make any other duchess-in-training scoff.
Well, aside from Ethlyn.
Maybe that’s why she gravitates towards the pink-haired little girl contently eating sherbet out of a wine glass in the corner, swinging her feet from her chair in a way that was both childish and decidedly unprofessional. There’s an empty seat next to Chalphy’s younger heir, and Edain climbs up, gathering her skirts and settling down as Ethlyn turns to look at her.
“You don’t wanna dance?” Ethlyn asks, eyes wide. A bit of whipped cream sticks at the corner of her mouth, and when Edain motions for her to wipe it off, she simply licks at it like a puppy instead. “I’ll dance with you, if no one else will.”
“I don’t think I want to.”
“Are you tired? I’m tired…”
Edain’s legs do hurt from all the standing, and as she glances over at Ethlyn’s skirts, she notices the other girl’s un-slippered feet sticking out from the bottom. Her heels are blackened from running around shoeless for who knows how long.
Ethlyn cocks her head. “Do you want some dessert? I kinda want more.”
“Your father will be upset if he finds out you had too much…”
“He’s so busy! He’ll never know.”
“You’re shouting… He’ll hear you,” Edain whispers, finally cracking a smile. The other girl’s energy is infectious.
“Oh!” Ethlyn yelps, covering her mouth with a small hand, finally getting rid of the sugar still smeared on her lips. “ Well, what if we go get some more dessert ?” she tries again, this time in a whisper barely audible over the sound of the band.
“Hmm…” Edain’s stomach had been turning just a few moments ago, but perhaps a ludicrous amount of sugar would be just the thing to settle it...
---
I don’t know if you received the last few letters I sent, but after a few weeks of clearing my head, I suppose I could understand why I never got a response. Your wife sent me back exactly one missive assuring me that you were fine, but she answered none of my other questions, so I’m sure that you could understand my frustration, given what information I’d included for your eyes only. I hope she didn’t actually read your mail, but again, I am quite sorry about my harsh language. Given your silence, I can only assume you are in much the same boat as the rest of us.
I sit here, writing to you from a bedroom in the Chalphy main estate. I’m grateful to have my wife beside me, and our daughters are busy running amok somewhere in the castle, despite the early hour. I’d like to join them soon, but I think I’ll stay in bed for now, because you and I need to talk. I was not invited here for a simple visit, even if that’s what my family might think. A messenger arrived at my home in the middle of the night, all windswept and sweating as if he’d dashed here on foot without stopping for even a drink. You see, Roselie was actually the one who sent for me- not Baldr. I’m sure, if you are indeed suffering the same fate as the rest of us, you can understand why.
---
It’s a rainbow blend of sherbet, so when she approaches the counter and requests two little bowls, she specifically asks for as much lemon flavor as possible. It’s her favorite, and she’s earned it after all the torment this night has put her through. The man serving gives her an odd look, as if questioning whether he should be giving this unattended child that much dessert, but after Edain clarifies that one of the bowls is for her friend, he relaxes, his face smoothing over as he leans over the bucket of sugar to scoop.
He doesn’t need to know that Ethlyn has already had three bowls . She’s been squirreling them off various adults in the hall all night- those who simply can’t resist the doe-eyed look of a little girl in dire need of a treat. She’ll be climbing up the walls in a few hours, but Edain will already be asleep by then, so she doesn’t really care- after all, one of these bowls is for her .
---
So I sent the messenger to bed, roused the family, and we were on the road by sunrise. Of course, I told them nothing- I didn’t want to scare the girls, and my wife… She’s always been so sharp. She understood what was going on the moment I woke her. She had been there when I’d received the news on what had happened to Thrud, after all.
---
“Thanks, Edain!”
Ethlyn dives into her fourth bowl of dessert like a lioness zeroing in on her prey, and Edain laughs as she begins to pick at her own scoop, happy to see her friend so enthused. Even if their parents were bound to reprimand them later, they could at least enjoy themselves for now. Ethlyn, after all, was far better company than her father’s noble friends in their frilly coats and dresses. All they did was talk about money and “give their condolences,” which she didn’t even want.
You were only supposed to give condolences once someone had died- didn’t they know that?
The form of a foreign hand snaps her away from the edge of a precarious mental spiral, and she turns in her chair just in time to watch Ethlyn squawk defensively, curling around her bowl and dodging away from the arm that now pokes through the wooden cross-bars of her chair. On the other side of the furniture, Edain catches a glimpse of dark hair shining a yellowed-blue in the light of the chandeliers at the center of the hall. Ah, the dogs of war were upon them, and the time of peace was finished.
“Father told me to come take that away from you.”
“No he did not , you are just being cruel!”
The hand retracts once Ethlyn begins to slap at it, and finally Sigurd makes his way around into view, his hands in the pockets of his dress-coat. Someone in the castle tried very hard to make him look like a proper noble tonight, but it’s late, and most of their efforts have been shrugged off after hours of running around with other children who should have also been acting like little adults.
He pulls up a third chair, resting his elbow on the table and leaning against it. “What are you guys up to?”
“Eatin’,” Ethlyn responds, sticking her tongue out at him. He responds in much the same way, and Edain giggles again as she scoops up the last of her sherbet. “Why, what are you doing?”
“Nothing, right now. Father told me to go find something to do since he wanted to talk to his grown-up friends,” Sigurd says, pulling a face. “He also let me try some of his wine. It was really bad.”
“It always smells pretty bad,” Edain agrees. She’ll stick with her favorite for now- apple juice was far easier to find, anyways.
“I don’t understand why they like it so much,” Sigurd mumbles. He watches Ethlyn lick the palm of her hand as she finishes her dessert, pulling a face when she finally meets his gaze. “You’re gross.”
“ You’re gross. And mean,” she responds matter-of-factly, putting down her bowl and wiping her hands on the nearest napkin. “Why don’t you go play with someone else?”
“Everyone else is busy,” Sigurd shrugs, struggling out of his coat. “It’s too hot to be dressed up- I want to go get changed.”
“Father will be upset if you do that.”
“I know,” he sighs. “I’m not going to, I just wish I could.”
“We could go somewhere cooler?” Edain suggests, before frowning. “Oh, wait, I think going swimming in the river counts as getting changed…”
“Did you even bring swim-clothes?” Ethlyn asks.
“I always do when I come to visit! They’re upstairs though…” Edain trails off, hands falling to her lap. “Perhaps tomorrow?”
Sigurd nods. “Tomorrow, for sure. But… What should we do tonight? The party’s still going, but… I’m pretty bored of it, to be honest.”
“We could go exploring?” Ethlyn suggests. Sigurd and Edain both look at her, confused.
“Exploring…” her brother starts, “But… we live here! We already know about everything there is to see!”
A mischievous glint shines in Ethlyn’s eye. “Oh, I don’t know about that. Come with me.”
---
But anyways, we arrived at Chalphy by late morning, and Roselie was waiting for us at the door with their new baby in her arms- the poor girl was sweating like a dog and the baby was wailing; a whole scene, as you could imagine. Apparently, a lot had happened since I’d been woken by that messenger. I sent Eteri to go entertain the children at that point; I knew that she knew everything, but I caught sight of a stain of blood across Roselie’s cheek and I didn’t want to subject her to an early viewing of the horrors that await us back at home.
Once freed of the baby, Roselie led me to her quarters, where she nearly fainted on the bed before leaning into my shoulder and sobbing for what seemed like hours. There was a lot less blood in there than I’d expected- I was imagining the place to be a bit more like Nál’s after his meltdown. I managed to calm her down after a while, and soon enough she pointed me towards the washroom, and that’s when I finally found the blood I was looking for. Tyrfing was still laying in the bathtub, its blade soaked in the stuff, but Baldr was nowhere to be found. Strangely enough, no footprints stained the carpet or flooring outside either, and when I asked Roselie where he’d gone, she merely shook her head and broke down again. I brought her to a different room, and the moment she hit the couch she was unconscious- the shock and exhaustion of what was obviously a rough night finally getting the best of her.
---
“What’s this?”
“A door, stupid.”
Sigurd winces. “Obviously it’s a door, but- what’s behind it?”
Ethlyn smiles again, that same sneaky smile she’d shown them moments earlier in the hall. “I don’t know, I’ve never been through it before!”
“That’s a bit weird, don’t you think?” Edain cranes her head to look at the top of the hallway, where the wooden boards meet stone. “I think I know where all the doors in my castle go…”
“Oh wow… your castle must be small ,” Ethlyn prods. Sigurd smacks her softly on the top of her head, mumbling something about her being rude.
“I don’t even know if we have the keys to this door…” he says, hesitating as he approaches the knob. It sticks fast as he twists it, locked in place. “And we don’t even know what’s on the other side… Maybe we should ask father?”
Ethlyn shakes her head. “No- he’s too busy drinking wine . This is our chance to have some fun! Now… if I was a key, where would I hide..?”
“On a keyring?” Edain suggests. All this talk of mysterious doors has grabbed her attention thoroughly, and the sugar that’s now coursing through her veins isn’t helping her sense of restraint. A little exploration would be fun! The castle was perfectly safe, after all- as long as they stayed together, nothing bad would happen to them.
“A keyring, or maybe…” Sigurd takes a step to the side, still visibly apprehensive. If any of them got hurt, he would be the one in trouble- he was the oldest, after all, even if it wasn’t by very much. “If I was gonna hide a key, I’d nail it to the wall, somewhere nearby but just out of sight. Like on the side of the…”
He pauses, yanking at something on the side of the doorframe, higher up than either of the girls can reach. A little piece of metal lands in his open palm.
“You found it!” Ethlyn cries joyously.
“I found it,” Sigurd says, instantly regretful.
---
I borrowed one of the quartermaster’s hunting dogs, and together, the little beast and I set to work. It was rather difficult at first; Baldr lives here, so naturally, his scent would be everywhere, but eventually the dog pulled me down the stairs to the cellar, and that’s when I saw it; another dark stain, this one on the wall by the door. I asked a nearby guard for the keys, and he handed me his sword as well, which surprised me. I should have brought Yewfelle, but the thought of turning a weapon on a dear friend hadn’t occurred to me in the wee hours of the morning. The guard himself was pale. He had seen. He knew.
I tried to crack a joke about treason to lighten the mood, but he only grew more fretful, so I took the sword and keys and went on my way. There was more blood on the door, I realized as I drew closer- all over the knob and the edges, as if someone had leaned heavily on it as they forced their way inside. I lit a torch before beginning my descent, tying the dog’s leash to my hip and drawing the sword with my free hand. Was I afraid of what might have been on the other side? Perhaps- I would never say it to Baldr’s face, though. He’d been too afraid of this happening, ever since news of Njörun’s murder-suicide reached Grannvale. I wish I’d been here for him. Maybe, when I’m done here, I’ll go to Fjalar next. I’d like to see her at least one more time before-
---
“Oh, it’s really dark.”
“Let me see!” Ethlyn requests, nudging her way under her brother’s arm to peek beyond the opened door. “Wow, you’re right! We need a torch.”
“Wait,” Edain says before Sigurd can argue. “We don’t need a torch- here, watch this!”
She stances her feet and holds out her hands, concentrating. Images of the brightness of day fill her mind, and soon, a warmth blooms in her palms as a small ball of light manifests from thin air, lighting up the little outcove where the three children stand. Sigurd looks impressed and Ethlyn looks positively starstruck, so Edain smiles, handing the little ball of light over to their leader. Sigurd holds it carefully, as if afraid it might scorch him.
“When did you learn how to do this?” he asks, turning over the novelty in his hands.
“My mother taught me… She wants me to learn magic now,” Edain clears her throat, “... for my protection.”
“It’s pretty cool,” Ethlyn whispers, reaching out to poke the light with a stubby finger. “Can you teach me how to do that?”
“Maybe tomorrow, after we go swimming.”
“Awesome…” Ethlyn turns her attention from the glowing orb, satisfied. “Well? Are we going adventuring or not?”
“I don’t know about this,” Sigurd continues, holding the orb out into the darkness, illuminating a set of stone stairs disappearing into the blackness. Behind him, Edain conjures two more glowing orbs, handing one off to Ethlyn before helping her friend light the space beyond the door. The floor isn’t actually that far down- the tiles glinting in the light of the three spheres.
“Oh- see? It’s not that scary... For a moment there, I thought it might go on forever…” Edain sighs, holding her ball of light close. “Maybe we’ll just take a peak? We can leave the door open and everything.”
Ethlyn nods wildly, excited to discover what the new room had in store.
Sigurd takes a hesitant first step down the stairs.
---
I’m getting off topic. My hands are still hands, and my mind is still my own. I’ll treasure this life while it lasts, and I shouldn’t spend what little time I have left fretting. I can make my plans later. Besides, you’re probably not in any state to care about what I do with my time. This letter is more for me than it is for you; I just need to tell someone what I saw down there before I go, or the burden of knowledge will be what drives me down the short path to insanity.
There was another splatter at the bottom of the steps leading into the dungeon, as if someone had slipped on the landing and fallen all the way down. It made me cringe, but still I found no body, so I continued onwards, holding my torch high. This castle has very few cells for prisoners, but there was one man huddled in the corner, shaking in fear. He had seen as well, but when I asked him where Baldr had gone, he simply shook his head, refusing to even point in a direction. I elected to keep following the path, even as the meager trail of blood petered out into droplets, and then into nothing at all.
---
“Oh… I know where we are,” Sigurd sighs, deflating as he holds his light up to the rusted bars in front of them. “This is the old dungeon. I think it’s just a cellar now. This is where they keep all that wine they’re so fond of.”
“Ew… that’s it?” Ethlyn groans. “I was hoping we’d find something cool…”
“Like what?” Edain asks, holding her orb up to the opposite wall. Yes- there’s a massive shelf full of bottles down here, each one corked and filled with alcohol she had no interest in trying.
Ethlyn shrugs. “I don’t know… Maybe a monster or something?”
“You want to find a monster?” Edain asks. “Why? We don’t have weapons!”
Ethyn’s brows pinch together under her bangs. “Oh yeah. Well, then I guess it’s good that we didn’t find any.”
“Monsters aren’t real anyways,” Sigurd starts, continuing to walk among the boxes of rice and flour stacked across the floor neatly. “And if they were, I doubt one would like to live here. It’s a small room.”
“But look-” Ethlyn says, scooting past him. “It keeps going!”
His face pales a little bit as he follows her pointing finger into the darkness. “So it does.”
---
I continued on, past the dungeon and into the storage cellar. Thankfully, the tunnels under Chalphy are much more linear than those under Yngvi, so aside from a few closets and small rooms, the way was clear. I continued my descent, and the darkness soon became oppressive as the walls seemed to close in around me. Even the dog began to hesitate; I could hear it whining softly as we continued forwards.
The eventual dead end was expected. The emptiness of that final room was not.
It was confusion that struck me first. Baldr should have been here; there was nowhere else he could have gone. Even if his transformation had been completed, there were no holes dug in the thick stone walls that indicated a path of escape. I remember turning on my heel a few times, throwing the light of the torch into the corners to see if he was huddling there, waiting for me to leave. As I searched, I nearly tripped over the dog’s lead- I still have the scratches on my fingertips to prove it. The hound was standing stock-still next to the blank wall at the far end of the room, and even as I tried to tug it away to continue my search elsewhere, it would not move.
---
“See, it’s all just storage,” Sigurd sighs, relieved as they reach the end of the long corridor. “This is just where they keep all the things that need to stay cool during the summer. It’s actually pretty nice down here… not really that hot…”
“I’m still warm,” Ethlyn grumbles. She’d put her shoes back on before their delve into the depths, and she quickly smudges the tips of her slippers by digging her toes into the dirt that lay between the stones in the floor. “I think I’ll ask for a lighter dress next time.”
“I like your dress,” Edain says softly. Sigurd turns around with a jump, as if just remembering that she was there. “It makes you look very princess-ey.”
“Awww… you look like a princess too, Edain!”
The girls giggle, and Sigurd rolls his eyes.
“Can we go back now? This place is both boring and creepy.”
“I guess we can… though, are there any more snacks in these crates?”
“Ethlyn, you’re gonna make yourself sick…”
“You’re not the boss of me,” she responds, sticking her tongue out at her brother once more as she begins to lift lids off of the boxes lining the small room. “Ugh, looks like these are just full of… raw noodles. That’s no fun.”
Edain turns away from the pair of siblings looking around the room curiously. There are shelves along the walls here too, though it looks as if one of them had been toppled at one point, laying broken across some of the crates, its contents long spilled. How long has this stuff been down here? Was this food even any good?
She approaches the fallen shelf, observing the contents of the cracked jars. Pickled foods sit swimming in their own juices, none of them looking appetizing.
Her light soon glances off something else, and she blinks as she realizes what she’s standing in front of, the darkness making it difficult to see.
There’s a hole in the wall here, barely covered by a dented metal sheet.
---
I investigated the wall after cursing the mutt out in frustration- not one of my finest moments, I’ll admit. The stonework there was as blank and filthy as the rest of the room, aside from one detail.
There was a metal plate affixed to the wall in front of the dog’s nose, and it was bent harshly at the corners, as if something had pressed its claws into the iron.
I tried to pull the metal plating away to see what was behind it (and, believe me, I had my suspicions and called out their names with fervor), but it would not budge. The warped corners were jammed tightly into the surrounding brick, and it was in so deep that it would be nearly impossible to open from this side of the wall. It took the tip of my borrowed sword and a hell of a lot of leverage to pry it from the wall, and when it finally fell away, a hole was revealed.
And that is, unfortunately, where my story ends.
---
“Ooooo… where do you think it goes?” Ethlyn whispers, grabbing a fistful of Edain’s sleeve as she bends over to peek into the hole. It’s dark, even with their lights, and clearly the little tunnel goes deep into the wall, leading to who-knows-where.
“I bet it’s just ventilation,” Edain responds. “There’s tunnels in the castle of this size everywhere.”
“Oh… another boring dead end then,” Sigurd mumbles. His shoulders relax just a little- every small discovery has been putting him through the stress-wringer. “Should we go back now? Father has probably noticed we’re gone.”
“What?” Ethlyn cries, shoving her way to the front. “We’re not even gonna see what’s on the other side?”
“Gross!” Edain responds, “Look at all that dust! You’ll get filthy if you crawl in there.”
“So? I don’t wanna wear this dress again.”
“Ethlyn, it’s a bad idea…”
“It probably doesn’t even go anywhere,” the little girl huffs, crossing her arms. “I just want to take a quick peak.”
“But what if there’s something down there,” Sigurd says quietly, one hand clenching very tightly into a ball.
“You said monsters weren’t real.”
“Maybe not a monster, but what if there’s rats?”
“Ew,” Edain whispers. She doesn’t like rats at all- their beady eyes and tiny hands creep her out. Sigurd points at her without breaking eye-contact with his sister.
“Exactly. Ew.”
“You guys are so silly,” Ethlyn sighs. “A little rat can’t hurt me. I’m a human . I’m bigger than a rat.”
“Why are you so brave,” Edain whispers, squinting at the other girl in confusion. It had to be the sugar infusing her with god-like confidence; that was the only answer that made sense.
---
I’m not a shameful woman. I’m in great shape for my age, dragon blood aside- but I’d always had far broader shoulders than Baldr, and I could barely fit an arm and my head in before I feared that I would become trapped. It was a tiny stone passage, an arm’s-length wide and an even smaller measure tall, and I’m a large person; we both know that. I’m not quite sure how Baldr managed to cram himself down there, but if he’s in the sealed Loptous tunnels… there’s no finding him now. They built those things for children to get lost in, and if he’s gone down one, he clearly doesn’t want to be found.
I sat in front of that gaping hole for nearly an hour, trying to think of what to do. Mostly of what to tell Roselie- she’s a widow now, or as close to one as she’ll ever be. At the end of it all, I suppose I’m almost grateful for Baldr’s foresight. There’s not much damage a deranged beast could do in the tunnels below the castle. The only souls he’ll terrorize are those of the native rat population. I almost wish Thrud and Nál had thought to do the same- losing both of them to the wilderness was a mistake on our parts. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve already begun tearing wayward villagers to shreds on the backroads. No one would ever know the difference between a wolf attack and that of a-
---
“Well, I’m gonna go check it out. You’re welcome to follow me, but you’re not stopping me!”
Ethlyn puts a foot up on the ledge before Sigurd roughly grabs her arm, letting out a breath through his teeth.
“I’m… going in front of you.”
Edain looks at him, shocked. He doesn’t look like he believes his own words, either. Ethlyn gives him a shrewd look.
“I thought you didn’t want to go?”
“I don’t . But…” he takes another deep breath, “I can’t just let my little sister climb around in the vents alone… If there’s something dangerous down there… I should be the one to deal with it.”
“You don’t have a weapon either,” Edain reminds him.
“I know that, but… I can punch pretty alright?” he tries, closing his fist around his little light, dimming the shine of the thing as he climbs into the tunnel’s entrance. It’s a small enough hole that he has to lean over, and Edain peers at him as he glances behind at the two girls. “I’ll take the lead.”
“You’re the coolest brother ever ,” Ethlyn says softly, climbing in after him as he begins to shuffle forwards on his hands and knees. Sigurd grunts in approval, continuing his slow pace. Finally, Edain shuffles in after them, not wanting to be left behind.
“These walls are awfully scratched up, don’t you think?” she muses, glancing to the side and tracing her fingertips across a slash in the bricks as she continues forwards.
“I told you,” Sigurd mumbles, “rats- AH!”
A thud echoes from ahead, and Edain’s back flares with pain as she instinctively arches away from the noise, scraping her spine along the ceiling of the small tunnel. A cough follows the scream, and then a groan.
“Sigurd?” Ethlyn calls, voice spiked with concern.
“I’m alright,” her brother responds weakly. “I found the end of the tunnel… Watch your step…”
The girls are far more careful than their leader, and soon they’re standing on solid ground, a dusty but unharmed Sigurd at their side.
“It’s just more empty space…” Ethlyn mumbles. “What a bummer…”
“Again- do you want to see rats?” Sigurd asks, trying his best to get the grime out of his hair. The light from their hands illuminates the small space- it’s even more cramped than the room they’d come from, with low ceilings that are coated in cobwebs. Edain cringes, sitting back on the lip of the tunnel.
“This place is gross. Let's go back and see if there’s any more sherbert left- adventuring makes me hungry.”
“ Please ,” Sigurd urges, turning on his heel and pushing Ethlyn towards the exit, only to stop short. “Uh…”
“Sigurd?” Ethlyn asks, flicking his hand away as he fails to let go of her. “What’s up?”
“The rats.”
“Gross- do you see one?” Edain asks, drawing her legs up into the tunnel. No rats would be biting her toes tonight, that was for sure.
“No, I… Look at them,” Sigurd whispers, pointing to the edge of the room, where the filthy floors meet the walls. Edain pokes her head out again.
“Oh… ew… they’re dead.”
“They look like they got eaten .”
Ethlyn wrinkles her nose, shrugging. “There’s probably cats down here too, if there are rats. And the cats have to eat something.”
Edain’s face falls. “I hope there’s no cats down here… I don’t want to see a cat live in a place as dirty as this.”
“I don’t want to be in a place this dirty either,” Sigurd grumbles. “Those dead rats probably have diseases.”
“Okay, I think I’m done exploring now,” Ethlyn mutters, her face still contorted in disgust. “Let’s go get more dessert.”
“I need a bath,” Sigurd mutters, climbing back into the hole after Edain, who sits with her back to one of the walls, watching the two siblings finally come to an agreement. “Let’s go, Ethlyn. I’m sure I’m already in trouble.”
“Okay! Here I come,” the last member of their little party says, cramming herself into the tunnel as Sigurd reaches out to take her hand. She slips slightly, grabbing a hold of the wall for support as she finally gets her legs in, but the little ball of light Edain had lent her is not so lucky, bouncing from her hand as it rolls across the dusty floor.
“Oh no-”
“Don’t worry about it,” Edain assures her. “It’s just magic- it’ll disappear on it’s own in a few hours anyways.”
Edain squishes herself against the wall further as Sigurd barrels past her, clearly desperate to be out of the cellar. Ethlyn is slightly gentler, but only because her bony elbows and knees are cushioned by the fabric of her fluffy skirt. Edain gets back on her hands and knees as they both pass her, glancing behind as the abandoned ball of light finally rolls to a stop near the far wall.
Except it’s not a wall.
It’s an archway. An open archway.
An open archway with a person standing in it.
---
I sealed the hole back up. He’d had the presence of mind to do that before he left, so I figured it was kinder to leave it the way he’d wanted. I don’t think he would be able to get back through that tunnel anyways- Nál got big enough to rip down a wall after his transformation, though he was already rather large to begin with-
---
Or maybe it’s not a person. Not quite.
The torso is a person’s. She recognizes the way the limbs attach to the ribcage, and she sees the arms that dangle on either side, skinny as if wasted away for years on end. The person, if they are such, stands stock-still, unmoving like a statue, their face not quite in shadow.
She processes long, thready hair and a pale gaunt face before she realizes how large the figure is. Not just in height- the person’s actual skull is about twice the size of her father’s- and those empty eye sockets, warped and twisted into something distinctly lizard-like , are pointed right at her .
She shrieks, shoving Ethlyn forward as she scrambles to get away. The girl thankfully picks up the pace, but it’s not fast enough, and Edain feels something scaly and cold brush up against her ankle.
---
But, that brings me to where I am now, sitting in bed with paper on my lap, running a hand through my sleeping wife’s hair as I observe the scales slowly creeping across my forearm. My days are numbered. It won’t happen tomorrow, and it probably won’t happen the day after that, but as the weeks come and go, I feel a prodding prescience in my brain, a voice that is not my own, urging me to do things I would not have dreamed of. Right now it wants me to rip up this paper and turn to the side, closing my teeth around Eteri’s throat and biting down hard until I can taste her blood and saliva on my tongue.
Obviously, I will not be doing that.
But the animal instincts that grow within me don't want to listen to reason.
---
Whatever it is, it manages to hook a sharp claw around her shoe, pulling it off her foot as she continues to scramble forwards. Soon enough, the ground beneath her falls away, and pain races through her chin as she smacks against the stone of the storeroom. She’s sobbing now, great heaving cries that make her lightheaded as she rolls around on the ground, fighting off the hands that come into her vision.
“Ow-! Edain, stop hitting me-” Sigurd demands, getting on his knees and pinning her to the ground. “What’s wrong?”
She can only continue sobbing, scrambling to her feet as she continues to beat the older boy away, sparing one last desperate look at the tunnel.
The light is still shining at the end of it, but it’s getting smaller and smaller, as if being carried away. She takes another choked breath as Sigurd asks whether she’d touched a rat by accident, and Ethlyn takes her hand, trying to lead her away from the tunnel. She shakes her head wildly, upsetting her firmly pinned hair.
“W-we…” she gasps, another strangled noise escaping her mouth. “W-we need- t-t-to close that h-hole-” She cuts herself off with another wail.
Sigurd, shaking now, lets her go, instead reaching for the metal slab sitting on the floor. “Okay- okay, I’ll cover it! Please- it was just a rat; you’ll be alright-”
“C-c-cover it!”
“I am!”
He heaves the iron sheet up onto the ledge, covering the hole. Edain continues to stare, rubbing her eyes every few seconds as Ethlyn confusedly tries to lead her away once more.
Edain feels faint.
How long had that thing been standing there in the doorway, silently watching?
---
Perhaps I should have killed myself earlier, like Njörun did. At the time, we were horrified, but now I pray to Naga every day in hopes that she succeeded. I hope she’s truly dead. I hope she’s resting. The rest of us are too late- but she was always the baby, and I don’t want to see her suffer, even in the skin and mind of a monster.
Eteri is stirring. I think I’m done. I’m going to enjoy the time I have left, and when I return home, I am going to investigate my own basement. If I am to spend an eternity suffering, I want to do it alone, knowing the rest of my family are out of harm's way. I would advise you to do the same, but I have a feeling you’re already gone.
I hope you’re alright, Heim. I hope the tunnels below Belhalla are deep. I hope they are comfortable and cool, and far too small to climb back out of. I hope the rats there are plentiful and make for a hearty meal. I hope you crawl down there as soon as you notice something’s going wrong.
And, most importantly, I hope your mind breaks before you get the chance to regret it.
All my best,
Lady Ullr of Yngvi