Soul Searching

Michael Krakowiak

Soul Searching

         The aethereal resonance of what could be the most succulent aether forge he’s ever sensed is what led him into this snow-covered forest, carefully stalking a duo as they’re frantically escaping their pursuers on horseback.  He followed both hunters and hunted, gliding through the frozen treetops, each step light as a feather and fast enough to leave only afterimages in his wake. One glance and he instantly recognized the party chasing down the duo.

         “Einherjar?” he asked himself, wondering if the white-robed servants of the Aesir were after the same aether forge he sensed earlier. A thin smile covered his pale face, and his narrow black eyes glimmered with malevolent intent as the idea came to him. “Hehe…fear not, fallen warriors, I’ll make fine use of you.”

         The shadowy observer peered from behind a wide tree 200 feet from the clearing, watching the subsequent scene intently and making sure to mask his immense aethereal resonance in order to avoid the need for any…premature action.

The duo halted before a clearing in the woods at the bottom of a massive cliff whose frozen visage once boasted a mighty waterfall, surrounded on all sides by forest too dense to get through on horseback…and no escape.

         “Damn it all…the gods curse me even now”, blurted a gruff baritone from beneath a black hood.

         “Is it any wonder, General Narr, after your cowardly treachery?” spoke a distant, echoing tenor.

         Twenty feet from the edge of the forest in this moonlit clearing appeared three forms gliding in unison, leaving a spiral of white afterimages as they landed in triangular formation. At the fore stood a handsome young man of medium build and height with straight blond hair neatly slicked back. Behind him to his right, a teenage-looking girl with long pink hair and slender frame stood parallel to a tall, heavily muscled ape of a man with brown hair in a ponytail, leaving only a single, long strand of hair to accentuate his wide, square jaw. Their only common features were the snow-white, floor-length robes with a large golden rune painted on their fronts and backs that they wore over their armor. Those, and the white longswords with the same golden rune inscribed on the hilt that hung from their hips and seemed to glow with an otherworldly radiance in the darkness of night.

         As he dismounted, he whispered “Stay hidden and be silent” to his mysterious companion. He threw off his cloak with one arm and cast it into the wind. Beneath the disguise stood an old man of maybe 60 years with a thick and short white beard, clad from head to toe in plate mail, heavily armored gauntlets and knee-high greaves, with an obsidian cloak. “Treachery, huh? What would a suckling babe like you know about the War of the Gods, you beardless whelp?” barked Narr as he glared at the trio with fierce grey eyes under bushy white eyebrows.

         “I know that I died fighting the Vanir during that very same war”, grinned the smooth-cheeked blond youth. “I know that the Valkyries raised my soul from that battlefield to the golden kingdom of Asgard, and that I serve Lord Odin and the other Aesir eternally in the spirit form you see before you. But most importantly of all, General Narr, I know that the punishment for desertion is death.”

         “C’mon, Van, don’t be so hard on grandpa!” the slender young girl chimed in. Her innocent looking smile quickly turned into a malicious smirk, and her tone dropped significantly. “He’s got one foot in the grave anyway…”

         “Show some respect, Hilda” entered a brutish voice. “Before his betrayal, General Narr led Midgard to several key victories over the Vanir during the War of the Gods. He at least deserves respect for that.”

         “Shut up, Erik! Who’s talking to you?!” Hilda stuck her tongue out at him as a snot-nosed child would, but quickly shot Narr a much more mature and merciless stare. “Who cares what he did before? Once a traitor, always a traitor.”

         “I’m just saying…”, Erik’s tone conveyed both futility and annoyance.

         “Who’s side are you on, you big idiot?! Van, can you please shut him up?!” Hilda repeatedly stomped on the snow-covered ground like a child denied a treat.

         “Hmph!” grunted Narr in a mixed tone of contempt and resignation that only a condemned man could achieve. As he drew a hiltless, single-edged longsword, he said “I won’t explain myself to green weaklings who died on the first charge. Cyclone Fang!” Just as easily as it was said, a lightning-fast downward slash sent a massive wave of razor-sharp wind jetting towards the trio.

Leaving only faint silhouettes in their wake, the trio scattered to avoid the slash and materialized in a triangle around Narr. The three raised their swords and began to furiously attack from all directions, but Narr parried or avoided each cut with the grace of a soaring bird of prey. Their melee soon became too fast to see. The group appeared as a flashing sphere of blades, blinking in and out of sight, back and forth across the clearing.

The fighters stopped for a moment, with the trio all poised to slash at precisely the same time. “RRRAAAHHH!!!” Narr roared as his aethereal resonance peaked with a sudden surge of extra power. He deflected all three with greater speed and strength, throwing them off balance. Narr somersaulted high into the sky above the disoriented three, and while facing the ground upside down, a jade rune of aether energy flashed in his extended hand. “Runic Arcanum 33: Spiral Tower of the Storm King!” No sooner did he recite the name than a viridian ball appeared in the middle of the trio’s formation.

         “Scatt-!”, screamed Van as the ball consumed the three in a vertical typhoon of wind sharp enough to cut through steel. They were vaulted in their respective directions by the blast, and Narr landed a few feet from the newly formed crater and regained his composure. “Not bad, old man! Who knew a half-dead fossil like you could harness the magic of the runes, and skip the chant?” Van and Erik dropped two massive downward slashes onto Narr like megaton hammers.

BOOM!

The collision of Narr’s parry against their blades sent a loud shockwave of air and snow across the clearing. It was all the power Narr had to keep their two blades from crushing down on him.

“Of course that would impress a novice like you! What kind of pitiful Einherjar are you that you possess no knowledge of the runes?” grunted Narr as his whole body strained against the weight of their spiritual steel.

Then it hit him.

“Two blades?” Narr thought to himself, momentarily puzzled. His eyes widened with surprise, but the realization came too late.

“Bolt upon bolt, gather in unison to rend my foe! Runic Arcanum 9: Chain Lightning!” Hilda chanted as a golden rune flashed before her, and from her pointer finger extended a continuous stream of lightning no thicker than her hand, headed straight for Narr’s exposed back.

“Father, NO! Runic Arcanum 6: Gust Shield!” a bright green rune flashed from Narr’s mysterious companion’s cloak and a thin disc of cyclonic wind appeared behind him, deflecting the stream of lightning high into the sky.

“Ren, no!” gasped Narr. He quickly returned his gaze to the weight upon him. His arm swelled with power and he sent Van and Erik grinding across the powdery ground with a colossal slash. The companion’s hood fell back to reveal a beautiful young woman of about 20 years, with bright blue hair and her father’s steely grey eyes, still mounted on her mare.

“How can you attack in cold blood a man weakened with hunger and travel?! Aren’t Einherjar supposed to protect the Realms of Men?!” protested Ren.

“Be that as it may, by the laws of Gods and Men, to aid a traitor is to share his fate,” said Erik in a tone full of regret but hardened by duty. 

“Even if you are his bitch daughter!” raved Hilda as she thrust her glowing blade forward with great malice. The snow white blade pierced through flesh and bone with ease. Ren shrieked as Narr lurched forward in front of her, his back to his enemy.

“Ren, I’m so sorry…you had to be…involved…in this…” was all Narr managed to gurgle through the blood oozing from his mouth. Van and Erik’s blades joined in the needlework, thrusting through Narr like daggers through a magician’s box. They pulled their crimson-laced steel from Narr’s bleeding carcass and the three appeared side by side several yards away from Ren in a trail of silhouettes, holding her dying father in her lap, tears streaming down her milk white face.

“Time to end this. I have to say, old man, you at least gave us a good warmup” smirked Van as he stretched his arms out.

“Van, Erik, let’s use our aether triad special!” squeaked Hilda in delight while clapping.

“Forgive us, General Narr, Ren. Without laws, we are nothing…” said Erik weakly.

The three extended both arms in front of them, and began to chant in harmony.

“Architect of Life and Harbinger of Death, grant me the gift of the salamander’s kiss! Runic Arcanum 1: Embersphere!” Three bright crimson runes flashed before them and three torso-sized fireballs launch out of them at blinding speed, the three smaller globes gathering along their trajectory to form a giant flaming sphere triple the size of a man. As the giant hellsphere lit up the night and was about to consume its target, Ren closed her tear-drowned eyes and whimpered

“By the Gods…please…help us…”

Enough observation.

A shadowy figure materializes instantly before the dying Narr and helpless Ren. With a powerful swipe of his bare hand he scatters the flaming comet into thousands of tiny embers that spread all across the treeline, igniting the forest around them into a blistering inferno. The snow-drenched clearing and frozen waterfall glowed a glossy gold. From amidst the smoke and ash, the dark onlooker emerged. A tall, slender man with a pale face and short black goatee begins to take slow and calculated steps towards the trio. Garbed in a full-body, jet black doublet, with a silk, blood-red, long-sleeve undershirt, his entire outfit seems to be wrapped in what looks like a belt of thick, black scaly sections at the waist, which matches his wavy black hair.

As he stepped forward, he spoke in a voice deep as the abyss, though smooth as silk. “My my…you call yourselves warriors, attacking an old man and a defenseless young girl?”

“By the laws of Gods and Men, to aid a traitor is to share-“ began Erik, quickly interrupted by Hilda bopping him atop his head with the hilt of her sword.

“You already told them that, stupid!” she squawked as Erik rubbed his head.

“He’s a new arrival!” he barked with ire.

“So what?! Are you going to start with ‘By the laws of Gods and Men, blah blah blah’” she did her best impression of an ape, drooping her arms and making a primate face while she mocked him in a deep voice “every time everyone and their mother shows up tonight?!”

“Who dares hinder those on the All-Father’s business?!” demanded Van of the ashen stranger.

“All-Father? A presumptuous title, don’t you think? I seem to recall being born of a mother…hehehe…once upon a time” his slight grin was as deadly as it was contemptuous.

“How dare you blaspheme against the Lord of the Gods?!” raved Van.

“Easily, as it were. Any Lord that would keep dogs who don’t know the difference between butchery and justice on his leash deserves nothing better.”

“Dogs?! We’re Einherjar! Fallen warrior souls reborn in service of the Aesir!”

“Yes, how noble you Einherjar are. Are you so noble that you’re above questioning your orders? Don’t you find it odd that an old man who spends half his life in service to the Gods betrays them so suddenly?”

“It’s not a soldier’s place to question orders, only to follow them” said Erik sternly.

“Hehe…soldiers, huh? Even for Einherjar standards, shabby as they are, you three seem little and less than stablehands and cupbearers with swords. Why, I’m willing to bet that not a one between the three of you has transformed your Aether Reaver to the second Sacred Forge state, have you?”

“What would you know about our holy practices?! Who are you?!” squeaked Hilda.

“I know enough to see that you wouldn’t need to attack a weary old man 3 on 1 and gut him like a pig from behind if you’ve achieved at least a Sacred Forge state. As to who I am…well…hehe…trust me when I tell you: You’ll wish you hadn’t asked…”

Suddenly, the very air became thick and heavy with dark aether as a swirl of darkness consumed the stranger in black. His physical form transformed into a massive devil-looking creature, twice as large as Erik, with black scales covering his body and curved, ram-like horns sprouting from either side of his head, and a thick, heavily scaled black tail from his back. His beard extended in small, black skeletal extensions, and in place of his hair grew a massive crown of sharp black horns. His hands reverted to claws and his boots into talons. In between each scale were magma red veins, and the only thing that remained the same were his narrow, black eyes now framed in a face covered in thick, leathery flesh and fanged teeth larger than any natural predator.

“V-v-vanir?!” blurted Van, both puzzled and terrified.

“Hehe…correct you are, Einherjar. We Gods of darkness aren’t just stories Odin tells you to make sure you stay blissfully obedient. Now, allow me to grant you your prize…” He crossed his arms and stood upright as his tail swung forward to point at the trio. With a loud whirring sound, rectangular strands of black aether gathered into a singular mass in front of his tail. From the small ball of midnight erupted a massive energy beam aimed straight at the trio. The trio frantically huddled together with their backs to eachother and quickly chanted together.

“Runic Arcanum 28: Balder’s Prism!” After three white runes flashed from each of their hands, 5 larger white runes appeared around the group and began to connect with eachother as walls of light, creating a frontal facing pyramid. The dark beam collided with a huge crash against the tip of the pyramid, being dispersed to all sides along the walls of the pyramid as a wave is dispersed against rocks.

“Hold firm! He can’t keep it up forever!” roared Erik as the entire group strained to keep the barrier intact.

“How could we have not noticed such a powerful Vanir in our midst?!” whined Van as his arrogant façade faded into cowardice.

“Van…what happens to Einherjar when they die?” murmured Hilda with resignation.

“It’s your turn for praise now, dogs of Odin! You thought the old man was great for forming chantless runes, but you seem to have done a fine job,” the demon mused over the continuous crashing sounds of stream colliding with barrier. His leathery lips parted to reveal a wide, fanged grin “But, as I’m sure you’re aware, the cost of such rapidly formed runes…is trading power for speed.” A sudden surge of energy burst forth from within him, and his entire form was surrounded with a cyclonic swirl of black energy. The very matter around him began to disintegrate into aether, consuming the horses, flames, trees, and even the ground around him, all converted into fuel to increase the beam’s power. The beam grew twice as thick and streamed twice as fast. The pyramid walls began to crack and crumble, and finally they shattered as petals in the wind.

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!” Three voices cried, in death as they did in life, together.In the energy wave’s wake, their forms disintegrated into clouds of white particles, at the center of which floated three white crystals. The demon opened his hand to create a mini vortex of darkness, and the crystals floated into the palm of his hand and shrunk to the size of apples, hovering in a slow circle.

“W-why did you help us?” whimpered Ren.

“I seem to recall you calling out to the Gods for help, child…hehehe…but you didn’t specify which”, he chuckled in a way that suggested he was more than aware of the young girl’s ample frame and overflowing, milk-white bosom as he approached the pair with slow, heavy stomps.

“What…do you…call yourself…demon?” muttered the slowly dying Narr from his daughter’s lap.

“Careful what you call me, Narr the Betrayer” as he barked in a slightly elevated tone, puffs of demonic flame shot from his mouth ”…but I am called Logn.”

“Father’s not a traitor!”

“You sure seem to have all of Creation convinced otherwise…” noted Logn as he perused Ren with hungry eyes.

“I have served the Gods faithfully…hurgh!” Narr burst forth another gush of blood, but he mustered the energy to continue “nearly…my entire life. When you…Vanir…instigated the conflict…with your…blasphemous ways-“

“Blame the Creator for our endless hunger, mortal…that is, if you can find him…hehe. The very energy that composes a Vanir’s godly form, darkness aether, possesses a nature that constantly implodes, like a dying star, ever starving for greater sources of aether energy. As a result, our aether forges, or “souls” as you Midgardians like to call them, will never be sated…and are doomed to feed forever.”

“Be that…as it may…your preying on human aether forges…forced Odin’s hand…and all of Midgard was bound by the Life Debt we owed…to aid the All-Father, who created us, in his conflicts. Though the Gods of Light, the Aesir, are…perhaps the most powerful…beings in existence, they were…fewer than the myriad forms…your Vanir hordes could produce through your…transformation abilities. When the Aesir and all…of Midgard were being pushed back…to humanity’s last bastion…Odin felt he had no choice but to…unleash the 97th rune to end the conflict.”

“Some Father, that would unleash such horrors on his progeny. The 97th rune of the Runic Arcanum is the most powerful light aether energy spell…in the hands of lesser beings, it can level cities. But in the hands of one with such astronomical aethereal resonance…well,hehe, it’s no wonder most of Midgard now lies in ruin.”

“After witnessing…one who calls himself…All-Father…so casually destroy…his allies, his…children…along with his enemies, I could fight for him…no longer. Even…my wife…perished in the Gods’…petty conflicts due to my…inability.” A single tear trailed down the dying man’s cheek as he looked into his daughter’s eyes with utmost remorse. Ren was forced to look away, unable to bear her father’s pitiful visage.

“And thus you fled. From your home, from your Gods, from the very world you knew. Still, it bears consideration: Can a man be branded a traitor if he abandons his Lord to walk the path of righteousness? Hehe…truly, ‘tis the stuff of riddles. Then again, what business is it of mine, the path an ant chooses along its…brief lifespan?”

“Ren…sweetling…please forgive me…all I ever wanted for you…was a peaceful life…” his voice trailed as his eyes grew still, and his final breath escaped him.

“F-father? Father?!” Ren’s grief-stricken shriek was loud and powerful enough to reach even the Gods she has grown to despise. After weeping against her father’s limp corpse, she jerked her head up to look at the towering monstrosity.

“If our lives and our pleas are beneath you, then why did you come?” Ren glared at the demon.

“Would it please you to hear, sweetling, that my eternal hunger isn’t limited to just souls?” he lowered his demonic face until it was right in front of hers, looking her over like a tiger salivates over fresh meat. As Ren simultaneously blushed and was disgusted, Logn withdrew his infernal mug and stood upright. “Fear not, child, I jest. I’ve placed myself above such…hehe…mundane pursuits.” Logn turned his back on the duo and looked up at the night sky as he spoke. “If we’re to speak of those who flee, none are so deserving of mention as Loki. ‘The King of Dragons’, he styles himself, and somehow he’s managed to not only escape destruction at Odin’s hand but to also capitalize on the thinning of the Vanir ranks in order to assert his place as our Lord. If being forced to bow to that pathetic lizard wasn’t demeaning enough, he adds insult to injury by filling his days with sitting on his throne, demanding tribute, and maintaining a fragile armistice with the Aesir while they muster their armies of fallen soldiers. Say what you will about the Aesir…hehehe…but they certainly are a resourceful lot. The…what’s the phrase you meatbags use? ‘Energy Signature’, is it? The aethereal resonance of those very same fallen warriors drew me to this place…for I must reap that my Lord may sow. You could say I’m a…specialist…of sorts, where aether forges are concerned.”

“Specialist? What…do you…mean?”

“Apart from the…obvious…fact that we Vanir can absorb them for energy…I myself can collect them, store them, give them away…”

“Can you transfer them?!” blurted Ren, with newfound determination coloring her expression.

“Well…yes, I suppose I could. What once held a soul should be able to…make use of one again.”

“Then you can revive Father, can’t you?!” Ren asked with great fervor as she pointed towards the floating circle of crystals the dark god still held in his palm. “A soul for a soul! Please revive Father!” she begged.

“I could…though, what would I gain by reviving a dead Midgardian?”

“He was one of the strongest generals during the war! He’d be eternally grateful! He could help you in your fight against Loki!”

“Hehe…a soul for a soul, indeed. The contract is complete.” Red and black lightning crackled from colossus’ free hand, and a strong wind blew by as a powerful white light engulfed Narr’s cadaver and breathed new life into it. His wounds closed, his blood hot once more, the old man stood, confused, breathing heavily as though he were a newborn babe. Once he grew accustomed to his newfound breath, he looked at the demon and a smile crept across his vigor-filled expression.

“How is this possible? W-why would you help me? I don’t understand…”

His enthusiasm left him just as quickly as it arrived as he turned to see his daughter slouched over in the crouched stance she held him in as he was dying, her once proud, defiant grey eyes glazed over and lifeless. She looked so beautiful, even in death, almost as if a doll had taken her place, so pretty, yet so still. “What…have you done?” Narr whimpered as he embraced his daughter’s breathless shell, tears streaming from his eyes before he looked up at the demon once more. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”

“I did only what was asked of me. Your daughter begged me to save your life once she learned of my…particular skillset. Her exact words were “A soul for a soul! Please revive Father!” It’s no fault of mine that she didn’t…hehehe…specify which.”

Narr lowered his daughter’ body gently onto a thick blanket of snow and stood with a great rage stirring within him, his old strength finally returned to him. “MONSTER! I’ll make sure this diabolical contract was your LAST!” he declared as he dashed toward the demon. To his dismay, just as quickly as he charged was he repelled by a casual swipe of the colossal monster’s tail. As Narr flew several yards and crashed into the frozen waterfall, Logn disappeared and reappeared in the blink of an eye, grasping Narr by his throat and holding him up against the pale frost of the dead waterfall.

“Mind yourself, worm! Don’t be so hasty to forget: that which is given can just as easily be taken away.”

Narr struggled for a breath. “I have nothing that you could possibly take…not anymore.”

“Don’t be so certain.” Logn quickly released Narr’s throat as he slid down the waterfall, looking up at the demon, his back against the wall like a cornered rat. Remember: that which is given can be taken away. Your daughter’s contract with me need not be permanent. Another contract made could render the first one…null and void.”

“Anything-“ Narr began with enthusiasm, but was quickly cut off by Logn’s raised claw.

“Consider this before you speak: Indeed, you have the opportunity to void your daughter’s contract…but as you are now, you’ve never been stronger. The vigor of your youth combined with the wisdom of age…you stand in a prime position to exact revenge on the very powers that forced you into such a…bind. After you help me with my…lizard problem, of course.”

“What you speak is madness, demon…how can a man make such an impossible choice?”

“Why don’t you do some…how shall I put this? Soul searching…hehehe.”

“Revenge…how would I profit from revenge? What would I have for my ire, other than endless ash and ruin? Revenge won’t right the wrongs of this world…and it won’t bring Ren back. How can I trust you’ll keep your word? That you won’t trick me as you did…my sweet Ren…?” his voice trailed off as his fresh grief began to well up in his throat.

“You wound me, General Narr. I never tricked anyone. I am nothing if not a…’man’ of my word. Name your desire, clearly, and it shall be done.”

Narr paused to consider a moment. He shot the titan one final look of contempt before sighing.

“I, Narr, offer my soul in exchange for my daughter, Ren’s, contract with the demon, Logn, to become null and void.”

Logn’s eyes lit up with unearthly delight. “Excellent! The contract is complete.” The red and black lightning left his infernal claw once again, and as Narr’s aether forge was slowly separating from his body, Logn simply couldn’t resist.

“Farewell, noble Narr. The world has never known so honorable a man as you…or so great a fool…hehe.”

“W-what?” was all Narr could muster as cosmic forces greater than his will overtook him.

“I suppose I can’t blame you for not sensing me as I stalked you and your daughter through the woods. It’s a known fact I conceal my…intentions well. I also can’t fault you for not realizing that I waited precisely until the Einherjar dealt you the death blow before making my presence known. I might even overlook the fact that you believed I would actually waste my precious time hunting the measly aether forges of such low-level Einherjar. What I simply can’t get beyond…is how you were foolish enough to not suspect my true objective: claiming your precious daughter’s succulent aether forge.”

“B-bastard…you wanted my daughter from the start?! WHY?!” he strained as hard as he could against the mystic energies enveloping his entire being, but in vain.

“I do suppose I owe you that much. In terms you can understand, an…untainted maiden’s aether forge is energetically worth 10 normal aether forges.”

“T-then why not just kill us and be done with it?!”

“While by itself such an aether forge is worth 10 times as much, if offered willingly to save the life of another…well, it’s value is increased 10 fold.”

“Why not just kill me afterwards?! Why go through another charade?!”

“Hehehe…if offered willingly again, the same rule applies. What’s truly…inspired…is the fact that, if offered by a parent to save his progeny, such powerful sentiments increase the energetic value 100 fold.”

“D-damn it all…why would you need such a…powerfully charged aether forge?!”

“If you hadn’t deserted when you did, you’d have heard that Loki not only survived Odin’s assault but quickly ascended to rule over all Vanir. Doesn’t it…puzzle you how he could make such a meteoric rise?”

“You vile…parasite…what do I care abo-“ As Narr tried to utter a response, Logn constricted his throat with his dark energies to stifle him.

“No need to be so profane. It was more of a…rhetorical question, anyway…hehehe. The simple answer is that he’s the first and only Vanir to have discovered a transformation beyond the one you see before you. A ‘level 3’, so to speak, the final evolution a Vanir can achieve. In this state, one’s powers far exceed even the strongest ‘level 2’ transformations. Being the intellectual that I am, I pondered…how exactly could he have done such a thing so quickly, considering that beforehand he was little better than a fledgling Vanir? I came to the simple conclusion that he must’ve…eaten his way there. Having himself taken part in the final battle when Odin unleashed the rune, such a massive magic attack must’ve littered the battlefield with aether forges, just ripe for the picking. Sadly, I couldn’t share in the same fortune…until I came across mention of certain processes that could overcome quantity with…well, quality…hehe. I never dreamt I’d find such delightful fools that would allow me to so readily expedite the process, though. With your…contributions, I’ll be able to achieve my own ‘level 3’ transformation, and soon all Vanir will bend the knee to me.”

“A-all this just to rule over the barren wasteland of frost and darkness you Vanir call home?! Trifling with human lives just so you can overthrow your lord?!”

“Home? Overthrow my lord? HAHAHAHA! You truly are an idiot. I have no interest in that iceberg we’ve been banished to, nor overthrowing a slug like Loki…no, my ambitions reach far beyond that. Once I slay the All-Father, the golden halls of the Aesir shall be my home. Alas, forgive me, brave fool, I’ve rambled on for far too long. It’s time I claimed the prize for my…hehe…soul searching, and you for yours.”

A look of resignation to his doomed fate colored Narr’s expression as the now super aether forge left his body, glowing with a brilliance never before displayed by any aether forge Logn has ever seen. The radiant crystal merged with the previous three and brimmed with incredible power as it levitated before Logn. His entire form was engulfed in a spiral of dark energies. The super forge disappeared into the aether within him, and his transformation had begun.