04-08-2023, 09:58 PM
“She is Vatnavættir. I’ve never seen one in all my years, though I have had encounter with álfar. That means you found Álagablettur. A place of power and importance. I will help her.”
As Thalia shook away her injuries, Tristan’s mind was bubbling with dreamy memories. They had found the Vatnavættir that haunted the wolf dream. Beneath the water, she had darted and spun in agitation and fear. Her distress summoned Thalia’s soul to seek to offer help. They both answered the call, but here in the enchanted spot of Álagablettur, he knew it was him who must be roused to act.
His gaze swept the area, settling intently upon a round object nearby. He recognized it from the dream, and once he was certain Thalia was well, he rose slowly to retrieve it.
He stretched his senses outward as he approached. The drips and laps of water was most prominent. Then there was the hum of machinery scratching behind the walls. Even the swishing of the cat's tail prickled his ears. The scents of fish and mammal were mingled with caution and urgency. Through the cloud of sensations he walked, purposefully, pointedly.
It was with reverence that he knelt before the egg. The paw of his hand palmed its surface. It was cold and damp despite being far from the water, and he had the sense it had not been in the water in a great deal of time. It was as if it was preserved.
It was heavy when he lifted it. At least forty pounds. So heavy it might be mistaken for stone if it wasn’t for the seeming fragility of its surface.
He put an ear to the egg, then, but if he heard anything within, his expression did not betray the awareness. His golden gaze flicked tentatively to the Vatnavættir.
He was here to help the Vatnavættir. From her vantage, her black eyes were wide. Tentacles slowly rose behind her as if poised to strike. Yet she did nothing. His golden gaze slipped to Thalia next, as well as the cat on her shoulder.
His heart was pounding, brow drawn low, and hair falling around his face like a curtain. The task set before him was enormous, but he bore the burden with duty. Even a sense of honor. He just hoped this was the right thing to do. Gods help him if he was wrong.
He nodded and with some small strain, hefted the egg above his head.
He looked up at it briefly, “Ég frelsaði þig”*.
Then with a roar, thrust the egg to the ground.
It shattered, and something slithered out.
*I set you free.
+++
As Thalia shook away her injuries, Tristan’s mind was bubbling with dreamy memories. They had found the Vatnavættir that haunted the wolf dream. Beneath the water, she had darted and spun in agitation and fear. Her distress summoned Thalia’s soul to seek to offer help. They both answered the call, but here in the enchanted spot of Álagablettur, he knew it was him who must be roused to act.
His gaze swept the area, settling intently upon a round object nearby. He recognized it from the dream, and once he was certain Thalia was well, he rose slowly to retrieve it.
He stretched his senses outward as he approached. The drips and laps of water was most prominent. Then there was the hum of machinery scratching behind the walls. Even the swishing of the cat's tail prickled his ears. The scents of fish and mammal were mingled with caution and urgency. Through the cloud of sensations he walked, purposefully, pointedly.
It was with reverence that he knelt before the egg. The paw of his hand palmed its surface. It was cold and damp despite being far from the water, and he had the sense it had not been in the water in a great deal of time. It was as if it was preserved.
It was heavy when he lifted it. At least forty pounds. So heavy it might be mistaken for stone if it wasn’t for the seeming fragility of its surface.
He put an ear to the egg, then, but if he heard anything within, his expression did not betray the awareness. His golden gaze flicked tentatively to the Vatnavættir.
He was here to help the Vatnavættir. From her vantage, her black eyes were wide. Tentacles slowly rose behind her as if poised to strike. Yet she did nothing. His golden gaze slipped to Thalia next, as well as the cat on her shoulder.
His heart was pounding, brow drawn low, and hair falling around his face like a curtain. The task set before him was enormous, but he bore the burden with duty. Even a sense of honor. He just hoped this was the right thing to do. Gods help him if he was wrong.
He nodded and with some small strain, hefted the egg above his head.
He looked up at it briefly, “Ég frelsaði þig”*.
Then with a roar, thrust the egg to the ground.
It shattered, and something slithered out.
*I set you free.