“What the fuck!” Xain bellowed as he was dumped unceremoniously onto a cold stone floor.

  “Oh, it wasn’t that bad. Was it? I have never actually entered the bag myself,” Lilith said from behind where he and Vector lay.

  “Then again, you have always been one to complain.”

  “You- you put us in a fucking bag! Odin’s balls, what do you store in there? It smelled like rotted death!” Xain spat, the overwhelming scents only just beginning to fade from his too sensitive nose.

  It had been impossible to tell how much time they had spent in that dark space, completely cut off from the outside world, somehow preserved in a manner that allowed neither of them to do anything but breathe, and even that was oddly altered as if each breath was slowed so as to not let them spoil.

  But the worst part, without question, was the smell.

  Somehow fruity, yet rotten; stale, yet fresh.

  Xain’s time hunting had provided the chance to experience a vast variety of scents at all stages of life’s cycle, but nothing had prepared him for whatever was in that bag.

  “Well, you are alive, are you not?” Lilith asked, her tone verging on hurt.

  “We are, indeed,” Vector said, slowly sitting up.

  “And we owe you a debt of gratitude, Lady of Death.”

  “You can start paying it back by never calling me that again,” Lilith said, irritation flaring.

  “I apologize,” Vector said, bowing his head slightly.

  “How then, may I address you?”

  “By my name? You said it before, didn't you?” Lilith scoffed, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

  “I fear my shock at your sudden, yet timely appearance, may have played a part in my lack of propriety. However your position-”

  “And you are who exactly, to remind me of my position? Xain’s partner in creating that clusterfuck I just extracted you two from? Asgardians, I swear.”

  “I am no longer-” Vector started, but as Xain now remembered all too well, when Lilith had a point to make, it was best to wait out the storm.

  “Oh, I know,” she said, her black eyes focusing on Vector with a scowl that, even though it was not directed at him, made Xain instinctively shrink away.

  “That is the cause of this whole mess, is it not? That, and Xain’s desperate need for a friend.”

  “Grrrr,” Fen growled, walking over to stand behind Xain.

  “I’m… I’m sorry,” Lilith said, Fen’s admonishment just as effective on her as Xain. “You’re right. That was not fair. I just, well I am out of sorts. This was not how I planned to spend my evening. And then there is the whole debacle tomorrow I have to deal with,” she said in a huff.

  “This is not how I wanted our reunion to go. I…”

  “Thank you,” Xain cut in, as he finally stood, sparing her from whatever admission she was about to make.

  We’re safe. That’s enough.

  It was hard to tell where exactly they were, but from a quick look around, it appeared to be some alcove used for docking small vessels. The room in which they stood was only about 10 feet tall, with an arched stone ceiling, stone walls, and stone floor that turned into steps a few feet behind where Lilith faced them.

  Beyond the stairs, in the light of two flickering torches set into the walls on either side, Xain saw large ice covered rocks which formed a sort of cove, the dark water in its center rippling slightly as snow fell, and further out, though it was hard to see through the white curtain, was the ocean.

  “And not just for bringing us here,” Xain continued, taking a step toward Lilith, Fen’s nose pushing him forward. “For before too. I… it has been a while since that happened to me. It… thank you.”

  “And I’m sorry,” he said, turning to Vector who still sat on the ground. “It happens sometimes. The world, it just… gets to be too much.”

  “Not necessary,” Vector said, giving him a slight smile. “If we start apologizing for things like that, I fear we would end up doing little else.”

  Xain returned the smile, and turned back to Lilith.

  She looks… different.

  Which of course she did. It had been 10 years. But in the frantic fleeing of the ship, he had not truly been able to see how she had grown.

  Her angular face was thin, though her cheeks remained full, and slightly red in the night's chill. Her black eyes reflected the dancing flames of the torch much like the dark water beyond, and were further highlighted by the black makeup with a slight tint of green painted around them, contrasting sharply against her white eyebrows and pale white skin.

  She was taller than him, but only slightly, and while she had been wispy and thin when she had stayed with him and Bow, her body had since matured. It was still thin, but also strong, and even through the cloak she wore, Xain’s eyes were drawn to the curves that had only just begun to form when he had seen her last.

  The fuck is going on with me?

  “It’s not as if I had a choice,” Lilith replied, pulling his attention back to her face.

  “You are useless when you get like that,” she continued, though her nearly gentle tone seemed at war with the words.

  “I know. I-”

  “I believe this conversation is better suited for when we are free of threat from the Valkyries.”

  The voice came from further in the cavern, and before Xain knew what he was doing, he had tapped Uruz, his Ice Armor coming instinctively as he turned.

  “Squall!” Lilith shrieked, rushing past Xain toward the shadowed figure.

  “Lilith,” Squall said, the dark form bending down as she wrapped two scaled arms around the woman.

  “It is good to see you,” Squall continued.

  “Squall…” Vector breathed, as he took a place beside Xain.

  “Who is that?” Xain asked, glancing over toward his friend.

  “Really?” Vector said, his gaze locked on the newcomer.

  “Your education truly was unique.”

  Xain didn't know what to say to that, as he had no point of comparison. Bow had not been a fan of structure when it came to learning. There were of course things he made Xain study, but mostly he allowed him to follow his own interests.

  These spanned animals, plants, and nature far more than politics or people of note within the Tree.

  His knowledge on runes was rather extensive as well, but for reasons he could never quite grasp, Bow had guided it toward theoretical arrays, rather than practical studies.

  He had spent hours playing with different arrangements, showing them to Bow, and telling him how they made him feel, or what he saw in the story they made in his mind; however his dad had rarely done more than listen. If he did interject, it was to lament how stifled the current arrays had become, or rant about how the Houses repressed creativity.

  “Squall,” Vector said, "is the leader of the Thirteenth Talon. She was the single dragon to be born from Nidhogg’s last brood, and by all rights, should be the current matriarch of Hvergelmir, the well of life and chaos.”

  Okay… so, she is important.

  Vector’s words served as yet another reminder how much Xain still had to learn. Tryst had spoken of fractures, alluded to conflicts between the Realms, and mentioned that while Niflheim had long managed to stay relatively removed from such squabbles, they were facing problems of their own.

  It was likely, he guessed from Vector’s words, that the woman before him played a role in whatever Tryst had been referring to.

  “You are at least not completely ignorant,” Squall said, releasing Lilith as she stood to her full height, and stepped forward.

  When Vector had said dragon, Xain was expecting her to look more like the forms Vector took when using his array. And while there was a similarity, Squall looked closer to those you would find on Yid than any runic beast.

  Her skin was composed of overlapping, delicate luminescent scales, which sparkled a light blue, and her face was slightly shaped like that of the dragon’s head Vector wore, but far less stark, as if a combination of Lilith's structure and a dragon's.

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  She was easily as tall as the Jotun Xain had met, putting her at eight feet or more, and wore her wavy blue hair down, with several small braids throughout.

  Xain could only see her lower arms from within her cape, but noticed that though her fingers each ended in something akin to a claw and were similarly covered in the small scales, they otherwise closely resembled his own.

  He had seen Dragonkin before, the name for those hailing from Niflheim or part of their house, and knew of the tradition where upon a child's birth, dragon scales were sewn into the child's skin, a process that continued until they were fully grown, resulting in a sort of armor covering their body.

  Xain had found this beautiful, and knew it to be a way for their people to honor the dragons who shaped their world. Seeing Squall though, it was made abundantly clear how imitation paled in comparison to the real thing.

  I wonder if she has another form…

  While there was quite a bit of information he had read on the runic creatures of Niflheim, when it came to the progenitors of their world, information became incredibly sparse. And even knowing he should be focused on other things, Xain found it difficult to stem the curiosity which bubbled inside him.

  “So,” Squall said, looking between Xain, Fen, and Vector. “I suppose I should welcome you to Niflheim.”

  “Thank you, Matriarch Squall, first and only of the Great Dragon’s Thirteenth Brood. It is an honor,” Vector said, bowing deeply.

  “Umm, yes, an honor,” Xain sputtered, slightly delayed in following his friend's lead.

  “Bow taught you nothing of etiquette, I see,” Squall said, her dark round blue eyes focusing on Xain as he stood.

  “I… umm, I’m sorry?” Xain said, unsure how to respond.

  “I shouldn't be surprised. He was never one for such things. Fucking brute…” Squall said, her tone cold, but also tinged with something Xain couldn’t understand.

  “Mama?” asked a voice near where Lilith stood.

  “Is this him? My… my brother?”

  Who the fuck…

  And then it hit him. The Norns had said something about Bow and one of Nidhogg’s daughters. He had dismissed it, as there had been other things on his mind. But as the little girl moved further into view, her small hand wrapped tightly in Lilith’s cloak as her small red eyes looked at their little pack, Xain saw him.

  Not in the features, not exactly, which were nearly identical to her mothers, though colored a deep red instead of the light blue, but in something deeper.

  He has a daughter?!

  Bow had never once mentioned such a thing, and Xain had never thought to ask. Why would he?

  He had spent his life believing Bow to be a normal citizen of Yid, not some fucking Ancient who had lived through the last three Ragnarok events.

  “I told you not to call him that,” Squall said, her focus on Xain so intent it long had surpassed being merely uncomfortable.

  “I’m sorry,” the little girl said, and Xain could hear the beginnings of a fit in her small voice.

  “No,” Squall said, finally peeling her eyes from Xain as she moved back and picked her daughter up. “I’m sorry. Mom is being silly. It’s not your fault, little one.”

  “Xain,” Vector hissed beside him, “what the fuck is going on?”

  “Language!” Squall barked, pulling her daughter close.

  “I apologize, my Matriarch,” Vector said, and bowed even more deeply than his first.

  “Come,” Squall ordered, turning from their group without another look.

  “There are things which must be done. You are not yet completely free from Yid’s gaze.”

  And with that, Squall walked away.

  …

  “So…” Vector started, and cleared his throat before he continued, “who exactly is your dad?”

  “Honestly,” Xain sighed, resting his head against the window of their covered sled, “I am asking myself that exact same question.”

  Squall had gestured them into the sled without so much as a glance in their direction, but neither of them had spoken a word of protest. Whatever was going to happen now felt out of their hands. All they could do was go along for the ride.

  Only he, Vector, and Fen occupied the sleds cabin, which had two benches, one in front and one in the rear. He and Vector sat on the back bench, while Fen sprawled out on the one across from them, his head buried in his paws as he feigned sleep.

  To anyone else, the little twitches of the wolf's right ear would be attributed to a dream, but Xain knew him better than that. He was obviously exhausted, though Xain had yet to determine the cause. He assumed it had something to do with the journey from the ship, but seeing as only Lilith could answer that question, and she was currently riding in the sled ahead of them with Squall and her daughter, that answer, or any others, would have to wait.

  Evidently something in his tone alerted Vector that now was not the time to dive into Xain’s past, as he changed the subject and said, “I can honestly say, while I never expected to be drawn into a book, the bag was much worse.”

  Xain started to chuckle at that, but it quickly changed, growing as the night's events, the last few days, the last week and a half, all came to a head. It was the first time he had felt anything like safe since the Norns' appearance, and like a dam breaking, all he had been holding in began to flood out. His whole body shook, and tears ran freely down his face, but just as he began to calm down, he looked over and found Vector holding his knees, doubled over, gasping for air, laughing right along with him.

  “We- we- we- we almost died,” Vector finally choked out, before another fit took him.

  “I- I know,” Xain heaved.

  “I mean… what the fuck,” Vector said, calming just a bit.

  “And you,” he continued, “What in the name of the Primal God’s are you?”

  Any other time, and Xain may have sobered at the question, but as it was, what else could they do but laugh? It had all gone, so incredibly wrong. But here they were, alive, and on Niflheim.

  “When I figure that out, you will be the first to know,” Xain said, shaking his head as he wiped away the tears.

  For a few moments they both just sat, letting their breath slowly return to normal, until Vector broke the silence as he asked, “You really don’t know, do you?”

  “Nope,” Xain said, leaning back against the bench.

  “Well, I suppose we can figure that out together,” Vector said, as he searched around for something on the cabin wall beside him.

  A few seconds later he raised a bottle triumphantly, and asked “Drink?”

  “Is that really a question?” Xain asked, before taking the proffered gift, and without questioning its strange fluorescent violent contents, unscrewed the top and took a long drink.

  “How fucked are we?” He asked, passing the bottle to Vector, and fully relaxing into the wonderful burn that spread through his chest.

  “Honestly, I have no idea,” he said, holding the bottle up to examine as he continued, “when Tryst transported us back to our rooms, I believe his actions were quite calculated. We had been alone on the observation deck at the time, so unless we were seen with Lilith, he told other crew members, or they found out some other way, it may have actually worked in our favor.”

  Xain thought about the explanation as Vector took a long pull from the bottle, accepting it gratefully as he passed it back, and asked “So… they think we died?”

  “One can only hope. However, I doubt it will be so simple. Still, it appears as though you command some interesting allies. Squall may not hold the power which is hers by right, but within the Realm, her aid would be quite the boon.”

  “Not to mention, Lilith,” he added after a moment.

  “Not my allies,” Xain said, taking another drink.

  “No?” Vector asked, raising one brow skeptically.

  “Odd then, that they would go through so much trouble to ensure you were safe. A thing I am also benefiting from greatly, I might add.”

  “I know,” Xain said, unsure how to phrase it.

  “But it’s not me… its my ru-”

  “One in the same,” Vector cut in. “And I would suggest we do not speak of that aloud. Not until we are more… secure, at least.”

  Right. Well, good to know one of us understands the danger of my rune.

  “They are part of us. As much as anything else, anyway. Who you are, well such a question has been at the heart of philosophy since the Tree’s first bud. But as I am not a philosopher, I will say only this. If you think of them as separate, it serves only to deny a part of what makes you, you.”

  “Our stories are intertwined, and if nothing else, we are bound to them, and they to us by our shared conclusion.”

  “That is… terrifying,” Xain said.

  “Or beautiful. It depends on how you look at it. When I first began to understand my power, I was convinced it would consume me. I still believe that, sometimes. And it is not an idle worry, as you well know. But my array, the dragons, they are as confused as I am. To grow it, is not only to accept that, but to embrace it.”

  “While I am not exactly thrilled the Asgardian dragon surfaced when it did, I also find I cannot blame it. I have kept them back, locked away, for fear of what unleashing them would do. The fear may be well founded, but it is more deeply rooted than that.”

  “Do you know what happened to the last person who tried to build the Seven Dragons Array? They were torn apart by Nidhogg’s own children.”

  So that’s its name.

  Oddly, once again the necklace had no reaction. Vector may need to use the array to trigger it in some way, but Xain didn't think it was that simple.

  “They thought, or so I have read, that they had actually become a dragon. This led to a false belief that they were due a place of power within this Realm. They challenged one of the few dragons who remained from her first brood. As you can probably assume, it did not go well.”

  “But strange as it is, I can understand it. At least a little. How I feel when they are with me, it is as if we are one. Neither pure dragon, nor runic user. But something… more.”

  “This was little over a thousand years ago, mind you, and the records of the event are heavily redacted, so I really only have stories to base this on. I was hoping, well, I hope, I can learn more here. If we actually succeed, and find Nidhogg, I will ask.”

  “Or ask Squall, though I get the feeling she will be less than inclined to offer any more aid than is absolutely required.”

  Xain had not forgotten about their deal, that Vector would answer three questions about his array in the case that Xain was able to land a direct blow. But as the man spoke about it now, it felt like this was something that should be shared naturally.

  That didn't stop his mind from producing a flurry of questions at this new information. But they could wait. He could wait until Vector was ready.

  “Yeah, I get that feeling too,” Xain said, wondering briefly how much Bow had known before sending him here.

  Was he aware he had a daughter? If so, why did he abandon her? Everything he knew about his dad said he would not do such a thing, but it was also becoming obvious what he knew was basically nothing.

  For over 10 years, or 12 if he included the foggy jumbled years it took for him to fully awaken, he had been his father. But what was 12 years to someone who had lived for over 1,500?

  “Grrr,” Fen growled, lifting one paw so a single eye could peer at Xain.

  How did he do that?

  How did he always know when Xain was nearing a spiral? The answer was, it didn't matter. He was just glad that he did.

  “Oh,” Xain said, perking up.

  Vector’s head was leaned against one of the windows, eyes closed and drifting toward sleep, but this had been bugging him for a while, so he asked anyway.

  “Tor, he said something about being Scripted. What does that mean?”

  “Nothing,” Vector said sleepily. “Just something assholes call runic users to sound special.”

  “Huh,” Xain mused, and closed his eyes.