Part 28 (1/2)
”Which means...”
”Yes, there's really no need for you to ask any questions. We're just telling you the things we choose.” She laughed. ”We're b.i.t.c.hes that way. Fine, a few straight answers. We are sometimes called the Norns, or the Fates, or, yes, a number of other things. We weave, knit, carve runes, and whatever other imagery we pull from the mind of a person. Like everything in the Veil, our appearance is strictly your mind interpreting electrical impulses in your mind. Our true form is formless. Just like the dragon who swallowed you, or the very tree you're pinned to, we exist and don't exist all at the same time. As to why we're here, well, you may not be aware, but you summoned us.”
The young one ceased her twirling dance and sat back at the table. The middle-aged one stood and paced at the base of the tree.
”Sometimes,” she said, ”our heart knows and desires things our mind cannot fathom. Which is why your heart saw fit to sacrifice you on that particular tree. Another man hung there many years ago. He learned a great deal-much of it he has since put to disappointing use.” Her eyes unfocused from him and she shook her head remorsefully. ”You came here seeking power to save your family. I'm afraid we've decided to interfere with your plans.”
”What do you mean? I have a wife and child I need to protect.”
”And you will,” she said. ”For as long as this existence chokes on its final breaths. But how many other wives and children died on your day of chaos?”
”I was...”
”Used. Tricked. Deceived. We could go on, but you don't really believe any of those words. It's why you're the one hanging on that tree and the other is running around doing whatever he pleases. You have been the one to suffer and take personal responsibility. The other has led a life of excess. You have things you love and want to protect, but I'm here warning you that in order to gain what you need, you will see the worlds for what they are. And when you're done, you will realize there isn't time to hide and live your life quietly. You will need to change reality with your own two hands.”
Gwynn laughed.
”I'm sorry. But your choice of words is sort of funny.”
”Oh? And why is that?”
Gwynn focused on lifting the stump of his right arm.
”I mean, two hands?”
The middle-aged woman nodded her head.
”Yes, I suppose you're right-I'm getting ahead of myself.”
”That's my job,” the young one said with a giggle. ”You're supposed to be concerned with the here and now.”
”It's a turn of speech, you brat.”
”And now your speech is turned? Turned to what?”
The middle-aged woman waved the younger one off like a bad smell. The elderly one remained silent but wore a sly smile.
”Then let me get to the present,” the motherly one said. ”You are not pinned to just any tree, but to Yggdrasil-the world tree. Which isn't really a tree-as I've said, everything here is just in your head. But this is a very real source of great energy which connects everything to each other. In a place such as the Veil, inhabited by sentient bodies of energy, Yggdrasil stands as the silent rock we all lean on. I can't say whether the tree has a mind of its own or whether it is just a silent life-sustaining creature like trees in your own world. You Anunnaki have pa.s.sed through the Veil for centuries. The main way is to envelop yourself in the safety of your own soul. What you don't realize is your soul is traveling along the branches of the tree. Yggdrasil is our path through this infinite s.p.a.ce you call the Veil. Every happening, all the knowledge and functions of existence, are carried within its infinite branches. And right now, you're as close as any of your kind can come to being a part of it.”
She returned to the table and began knitting. The grandmotherly one stood and hobbled to the foot of the tree.
”Only one other Anunnaki has hung upon Yggdrasil. You call him Woten, though he has more commonly been named Odin. Upon that tree, pierced through his chest, sacrificed to himself by his own hand, he remained for nine days. In that time, he learned the runes. The myths interpret those as the runes used by the Nordic people. And while that is partly true, more importantly, he learned about the runes carved upon the flesh of the Anunnaki. His knowledge made him powerful, heightened his understanding of how creation operates, and probably set us upon this course where he orchestrated the destruction of billions of worlds.”
She sighed so heavily, her whole body shook with it. She approached the tree, just beneath Gwynn. He couldn't see her but heard her groaning with effort. He a.s.sumed she had sat on the ground by the tree's roots.
”Your shadow, the one you a.s.sociate with the name Cain, learned his mastery of the runes through more nefarious means-by feeding off the powers of other Anunnaki like one of your legendary vampires.”
Gwynn's eyes widened.
”He what?”
She laughed without any joy.
”Horrible. Yes, I know. Such is the true power of the Catalyst.”
”You mean...I can...”
”Oh yes, you could do it too. Well, you have the ability, but I doubt very much you could actually do it. Your loss filled you with sorrow and longing-you blamed yourself for surviving. You would never willingly cause another to feel such loss. Cain, well, he became angry, bitter, and then reveled in the joy of no one to tell him no. He learned he held the power of creation in his palm, and he used it. And when he discovered he could become stronger, he took the opportunity.”
”But they were his children,” Gwynn said.
”Yes. Very true.” Her voice seemed more distant, drifting back to things she didn't want to discuss, but had no choice. ”Hence the stories of parental G.o.ds devouring their young. And why so many legends exist of those same offspring rising up against their father. It wasn't rebellion, just self-preservation. Besides, not all were his children. Most were grandchildren or great grandchildren, or great, great, great, well, you understand. I wonder if he even knew he shared a blood connection with them. But it doesn't excuse what he did. All that stolen energy came here. Even though you didn't take it, you can still benefit from his evil. But will you?”
She groaned, coming back into Gwynn's field of vision as she hobbled back to the table.
The young one rose to her feet again, twirling in the same skipping dance at the foot of the tree. She sang a wordless tune Gwynn recognized, but couldn't place.
After a few minutes, she stopped and looked up at Gwynn with a wide smile.
”And now you need to decide what you're going to do,” she said. ”We didn't bother Odin when he hung on the tree, I suppose it's sort of a pain. But we didn't want to waste too much time waiting for you to figure things out for yourself.”
”Should I thank you?”
She shrugged like she couldn't care less.
”If we were doing this out of kindness, I suppose you should. But we have our own reasons for helping you.”
”You're not going to tell me what those are, are you?”
She giggled.
”We don't need to. You'll find out soon enough. Actually, it's probably for the best you find out yourself. You skin types seem to do better that way. But,” she elongated the uh sound playfully, ”I will give you some hints about what you should do next. We like to be mysterious, but that doesn't mean we can't be helpful. You will need both hands to change the world. I mean, anyone, regardless of handicap, can change the world. But you're going to need a way to defend yourself against Cain. It'll be much easier with both hands.”
Gwynn closed his eyes and let his head hang forward.
”You know that's sort of impossible, right?” Gwynn said. ”I mean, it was chopped off seven years ago while it was inside the Bifrost.”
The young girl growled.
”He's going to make me explain,” she said, turning to the other two women. ”I don't do the past. Uror, that's your job. Get back over here and explain.”
The older woman tut-tutted behind her teeth.
”Veroandi is right, you're acting like a brat, Skuld. You saw how I'm hobbling-just take care of it yourself.”