As if not to be out done by the rest of the ship, Xain’s room was bigger than he thought possible. It was composed of three massive rooms, each with ceilings and decor in the same style as the hallway.
The first room appeared to be some sort of entry room with three couches, a low marble table sitting atop a large ornate rug in the center of the room, a small bar, and large crystal chandelier. On the table sat a welcome basket filled with all sorts of cheeses, breads, jams, fruits, chocolates, as well as a variety of books, maps, and guides which, judging by their worn exteriors, he assumed were additions from the captain to help him on his journey.
The next room was similarly decorated with two couches, a closet, and a bed that could easily fit Xain and Fen without either of them needing to curl up at all. A series of small windows on the far side gave Xain a good view of the ocean, but he suspected that, like the dome, they were also part of the illusion which made it feel as though he was looking out, but in reality was only seeing what the ship allowed.
To the right sat the last room, which for Xain who had shared a small bathroom with Bow his whole life, was possibly the most impressive.
The bathroom was larger than their entire living room back home, and made completely of marble, with light slabs for the floor, and darker almost black slabs on the walls and ceiling.
It had a shower large enough to fit both Fen and Xain, along with a bath of similar size, and a huge tub that, after a quick check with his hand, proved to have jets of water along the side, for what he could only assume was some sort of way to relax his muscles.
The toilet, Xain quickly found, had a function which shot water up to clean himself, giving him an experience that was unique in more ways than he could count.
Fen relieved himself in the shower, but they both understood no manner of rinsing would get rid of his shit, so they would need to venture to the deck below for that later.
While he was impressed with the overall scope of luxury, Xain couldn't get over the longing for his cozy cabin back home.
“You think people live like this all the time?” Xain asked Fen, who perked up from his thorough sniff of the room, and curled one lip back with an expression that said ‘let's not get used to it’.
“Yeah,” Xain agreed. Everything he knew about Niflheim told him this was the last bit of luxury for quite some time, especially seeing as he would need to avoid places heavily monitored by the House. Such areas were often where the wealth of any Realm was consolidated, and were commonly at the center of urban areas.
He had a vague understanding how the core worlds of each Realm functioned, but Xain knew he would need to vastly increase his knowledge when he arrived.
Those books could help.
For now though, he was ready to meet Vector for that drink, as well as hopefully get some dinner since neither he nor Fen had eaten since that morning.
Is that really all it's been?
It was a thought that was hard to comprehend. So much had changed already that it felt more like a year had passed, and not just a few hours.
…
Vector sat in the lounge of his suite going over the last hour in his mind. No matter how he turned it over, he still was unable to understand what Xain’s angle was. 15 years as a Husk, prodigy or not, in House Asgard had taught him everyone was playing their own game.
Or more likely, several of them.
But with Xain, the guy just seemed… scared. Lost even.
He had only met him after a request from the captain, marking it as the first time on the week-long journey that he had left his room. Captain Tryst had promised him that none of the others would be on deck at the time, and explained that Xain was something of an oddity who could use his help getting the lay of things.
Vector had not expected another walker of the Path of Discovery, and the sudden addition of Xain had thrown him off more than he wanted to admit. But more than that, he couldn't for the life of him, understand how the guy could be so fucking trusting.
Vector had put his array on display just in case the new passenger thought to test his strength, but instead of being intimidated, Xain just seemed to be interested in it. More than that, Vector’s inability to understand how someone like Xain could gain the loyalty of the strongest runic beast he had ever met, while being so fucking weak, had thrown him even further off.
The whole time they were walking together, Vector could not get a good read on Xain, despite activating his array several times and trying to peer into his mind. Every time he tried though, something blocked him so strongly it was like running head first into a wall.
He must have a longer array. But then why was he so fucking genuine about that?
Vector knew when people were lying. And while it was clear that Xain was not telling him everything, he had not lied to him once. It was… weird.
When Vector had told him about the danger his own presence would bring, it had been an attempt to scare the guy off, while also gauging his overall reaction. Anyone, or anyone sane who heard his situation, would have put as much distance between Vector and themselves as possible.
But he… he had wanted to be Vector's friend.
Well, Vector would see how far that actually went. Once Xain realized exactly what he had agreed to, no matter what this unlucky backwater yokel thought now, that would quickly change when he was faced with reality.
Vector had known the danger that would come from leaving House Asgard. They had invested more in him than any Husk in centuries. His contract had been renegotiated to exclude array restrictions or guidance. It was commonly believed that he would be the next one in the house to ascend to the rank of Elder, and while he would never hold a rank reserved for true born Asgardians, he was expected to rise as high as any Husk was allowed in such a House.
He had trained alongside the nobility's children, getting the best tutors for each rune the House had to offer. This of course came with the caveat that, in him, the general disdain they held for Husks had been given an outlet.
How could they honestly think I would stay?
But they did. All the way until Vector had handed his papers over to Martin, and stated his intention to alter one very important piece of information. Instead of saying Prospective Rooted of House Asgard, it now read, Path of Discovery.
Vector had not waited for the others of his House to respond. He knew how that single change, an option given to everyone who was sent out to the Nine Realms regardless of birth or House affiliation, would mark him not only as a traitor, but as a lost investment.
House Asgard had paid an astronomical sum in Sap to Yid to acquire his contract, outbidding Hel, Vanaheim, and oddly, Muspellsheim when he was still in his awakening phase.
While the portion he received of the contract only came to 20% of the total price paid, a factor driven mainly by the ridiculous sum Asgard had spent, Vector had still instantly become one of the most wealthy members of the House.
Technically, even with his choice to break from the House, the trove of Sap still belonged to him, but he knew his House too well to rely on them to uphold such a stipulation. So, in an effort to protect himself, Vector had made arrangements a year before his departure to slowly divest the horde into holding companies he owned spread across the Nine Realms.
If there was one thing he knew well, it was how House Asgard held a grudge.
Vector fully understood that his decision would almost certainly mean his death. He fully expected one of Asgard’s hunter squads to await him on Niflheim, though he had specifically chosen that realm for two reasons. One of them being that the Dragonkin who occupied the Realm held little love for Asgard. Not to the extent of Jotun of course, but that came with its own dangers.
The other reason had to do with his array. If he was going to pull it off, he would need the blessing of Nidhogg.
It is named The Seven Dragons Array for a reason.
If he got past the initial hurdles, Vector was more confident he could continue on his journey with the aid of certain individuals, who like himself, held nothing but contempt for his old House. Of course, in the Nine Realms, there was no shortage of those who felt similarly, but he didn't need just anyone. He needed allies.
That wolf would be a good start.
The thought surprised Vector. He had already tried to write off Xain as a loss. He was too weak to be of any real help, and would likely do nothing but get him killed. Still, there was something about him.
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Not only that, Captain Tryst had been adamant that Vector and he meet, and while Xain may be weak, Tryst was not. If he saw something in the man, it was possible Vector should not be so quick to dismiss him.
They would see soon enough though. Vector had agreed to drinks and dinner for exactly this reason. He knew the moment the others came into the dining room and saw him in attendance, finally outside the protections provided by the ship to ensure the Rooted were kept clear of the living quarters for those who chose to walk the Path, the confrontation he had so far avoided would be inevitable.
*knock* *knock* *knock*
The sudden rap at the door pulled Vector from his thoughts, and with a deep breath he stood, walked over, and pulled it open.
“Ready?” Xain asked, a smile on his face, the massive wolf standing sentry behind him wagging his tail as he saw Vector.
“Indeed,” Vector said, as he stepped out and closed the door shut behind him.
…
Xain was in a better mood than he had expected as they walked through the massive hall toward the dining area. Vector though, had lost much of his relaxed posture, and seemed to be constantly scanning the walls for potential danger.
“You okay?” Xain asked, as they passed yet another series of doors bearing the massive World Tree.
“Yes,” Vector said shortly.
“Grr,” Fen growled, and Xain nodded in agreement.
“Pardon?” Vector asked, his step faltering as he looked back at Fen.
“He thinks you're full of shit. But seeing as we just met, it would not be polite to call you out on it.”
“As you just did?” Vector asked, a little smile playing at the sides of his mouth.
“Oh, no. I was just translating. It would be rude not to,” Xain said, seriously.
“You can understand him? Truly?” Vector asked, slightly more relaxed.
“Of course,” Xain said honestly.
“He has been with me since,” Xain started, and cut off.
I'm supposed to be a natural born.
Vector clearly saw the slip, but didn't say anything as Xain continued, "I've known him my whole life. You learn to interpret one growl from another pretty quickly. He damn near took my hand off when I was younger cause I thought one growl meant I want to play, and not I need to shit. Still have the scar actually,” Xain said, pushing up the sleeve of his coat and shirt to show the faded white scar that clearly bore the shape of a somewhat smaller mouth.
“Grrr,” Fen said again.
“I know,” Xain answered.
“What… May I inquire as to the meaning of that growl?” Vector asked.
It was obvious his speech patterns shifted when he was caught off guard, and Xain wondered how long it would take to hear the man really let loose.
“That I got what I deserved. Which is true. I mean, I tackled him pretty hard. It was a fucking mess.”
The sudden laugh from Vector startled Xain so much he stopped in his tracks, looking at the man with wide eyes.
“So,” Vector grunted, clearly trying to cover his little outburst. “I take it from your eyes, you have some Jotun in you?”
Jotun? I have no fucking idea.
Husks represented every race of the 10 Realms. Yid had long ago lost any specific identity, if one had ever actually existed, often displaying traits from multiple or all of the different Realms. A similar thing had happened to all of the other Realms over the many millennia the Houses used Yid as a refuge from each Ragnarok event, though to an admittedly lesser extent.
Xain had read that Jotun once stood on average over 20 feet tall, and Asgardians glowed a bit like those from Muspellsheim did now. But through the inevitable relations that happened in the years the Houses were stuck on Yid, the Realms had their blood mixed more and more.
There were still distinctions, such as natural born Jotun still often reaching eight feet in height, and of course the traditions of the Dragonkin clearly marked them as such, but it was common for people of any Realm to have traits from many of the other Realms.
Xain himself looked like most on Yid, though his skin was a bit paler than the others in the south, but aside from his eyes and black hair which Bow had braided before his journey, there was nothing that was of particular note.
His eyes had always been a bit of an oddity though. He had seen others with mismatched irises, but they were most commonly blue/brown, or red/black. His own combination of the right eye, a dark forest green while the other was a near metallic silver, had been so unique he never once got out of a visit to town without at least three or four people commenting on how odd it was.
“I'm not sure,” Xain said, and started walking again.
“My mother died before I ever knew her, and my dad didn't like to talk about it,” Xain explained, remembering the story they had made for him.
“Well,” Vector said, “rare as silver is, I have only ever heard of it occurring in the Jotun.”
“Huh,” Xain mused, not really sure what to make of it, and continued “Through here?” pointing at the huge double doors at the end of the hall.
Like everything else, they were painted gold, and had been inscribed with several sigils around the frames, as if not even the simple act of opening a door could be done without runic power on the ship.
“Indeed,” Vector said, taking another two steps before stopping, his posture tense once more.
“I… when the others join us, feel no need to intervene.”
Xain watched Vector as he opened and closed his fists, and the visible two runes of his array began to glow faintly.
The fuck is going to happen? I just wanted to get a drink and some food.
“Right,” Xain said, not giving a hint of whether he agreed or not with the statement.
“I just…” Vector tried again.
“Look,” Xain cut in, “Im just trying to figure out how the fuck im going to survive on a gods dammed ice world. But you're a nice guy. Obviously, it could all be an act. You could be planning to kill the second we step off the ship, and take my single pathetic rune. But I don't think so. And neither does Fen. We may not know each other well, and I’m sure you are thinking, ‘Who the fuck is this rural weakling, and how the fuck did he get such shit luck as to get sent out without a contract’, but I meant what I said before. I could use a friend. We both could. So, whatever you are so worried about, I can't promise I will stay out of it. Fen and I, we just aren't like that. And aside from him, you are the first person I have considered a friend. Seems like it would be a pretty shitty thing to do, if we just turned our back on you at the first sign of trouble.”
Xain watched Vector’s carefully crafted expression go through several small adjustments, before he nodded once in reply.
“Good, now let's go get that drink.”
…
“Once there were many more runic users sent out each season,” Vector said as they sat at one of the seven bars placed around the dining hall.
Despite being the only two guests, every bar had a crew member at it, ready to serve them. Which would have made sense if the massive hall that could easily have fit a thousand people was still catering to such gatherings, but from what Vector had said, each House had only sent at most 10 users, with most of them sending five or six this time.
“Its all part of a cycle,” Vector continued. “After each Ragnarok, the number of runic users is vastly diminished. During the subsequent years, there is an increase in Husks arriving on Yid. As the Houses work to rebuild their population of both runic users and natives, the ship is often filled to capacity.”
“As time between Ragnaroks extends though, and more runic users occupy the Tree, the overall numbers of Husks declines, as do the agreements Yid takes on to allow births within its Realm.”
“Though, this can be seen as being offset by the speed at which runic arrays are able to grow the closer we move toward the next event. As the last Ragnarok was over 600 years ago, it is believed the next one will occur within the next 20 or so years.”
“Is that how you were able to get your runes so quickly?” Xain asked, taking another pull from his drink. The bartender had boasted it was a micro-brewed ale from Svartalfheim, which now that he was on his third mug, Xain had happily determined it was close to the quality of their own brew back home.
Bow really knew his stuff.
“Indeed. Or partially. I was considered something of a prodigy within the House,” Vector said, though he didn't seem particularly proud of that.
Fen lay near Xain, eyes half closed after finally finishing his tour of the hall, which had consisted of sniffing nearly every inch of the carpet covered floor, and marking several of the huge columns set into the walls of the circular room. The crew said nothing as Fen did this, but he was sure he had heard snickering at least twice.
The outer walls of the room slowly arced into two huge sets of windows which stretched from the floor to ceiling, and showed a calm sea and darkening sky outside, though Xain had no idea if that was just another illusion or not.
The center of the room was covered in circular tables, each set with five chairs, as well as plates and cutlery that had been clearly prepared for the upcoming meal.
“Makes sense,” Xain said, nodding.
From what he could tell, Vector was the same age, or near to as he was. His air of maturity had made him initially believe the man was a good ten years his senior, but he had reassessed his opinion the more they spoke.
There was no age cap on being sent to the Nine Realms, the only restriction being the five runes they could acquire before the journey, but Xain knew most Houses wanted their users in their home Realm as early as possible.
Natural born runic users had a bit of an advantage in that, as they would start the process of growing their array the moment it was deemed possible. Husks on the other hand, could be born as old as 50, and would only begin the process once they had fully awakened.
Based on what Vector had so far told him though, Xain was pretty sure most of the Seeds aboard the ship were between the ages of 18-25.
“May I ask,” Vector said, waving for another round for them both, “why you never sought out additional runes?”
Xain had prepared himself for the question, but still it took him a second to compose his thoughts. Just as he was about to reply though, the doors from the side of the ship occupied by the Rooted burst open, and the room began to echo with clearly forced laughter.
“Fuck,” Vector cursed under his breath, sitting straight, then hunching back down as if to hide.
Xain had just turned his head to observe the newcomers when the laughter cut off all at once, and Xain saw a group of 30 or 40 people, lead by a smaller group of six he could only assume were from House Asgard by the opulent golden robes they wore, stop as every head turned to where he and Vector sat.
Xain didn't change his expression under the scrutiny, instead calmly taking a sip of his beer and giving a slight nod of welcome.
Even from where he sat, it was clear to see the larger group behind the ones in the lead had immediately become uncomfortable, but his eyes were quickly drawn back to the Asgardians as they started forward, and one of the taller men in the lead called out “Vector. I cant believe you decided to show your traitorous fucking face.”
