EPILOGUE II
The room echoed with the crackling and popping sounds of kindling from the central fire pit.
A frigid wind blew into the room from the ornamental window.
“Tonight’s a real cold one. Feels even colder than usual,” an old man murmured in a withered voice, staring up at the crescent moon through the window.
His thin face was covered in layers of wrinkles, and a long, pure white beard trailed from his cheeks and chin all the way down to the front of his chest. His left eye was shut, and a visible scar ran vertically across it, seemingly made by a blade. However, his right eye was open, and it contained a wild light as vibrant as a blazing flame.
“Ah, the cold really does a number on my old bones.”
The old man would have preferred to board up the window in this kind of weather, but that wasn’t really an option right now.
“This might be a convenience, but it comes with a bothersome drawback,” he muttered, fetching a palm-sized mirror from his pocket.
It was made with álfkipfer, a metal which at first glance seemed much like normal copper. However, álfkipfer contained a mysterious power within it, the divine power known as ásmegin. Whether it was the supernatural powers of the Einherjar and their runes, the galdr song magics, or the secret ritual magics known as seiðr, all were believed to be able to exist only because of the presence of this mysterious metal.
Bathing álfkipfer in the light of the moon increased the power of the ásmegin held within it.
As the mirror in the old man’s hand caught the moon’s light, a thin glow surrounded it and began to emanate from it.
“Alexis, how are things progressing on your end?” the old man asked the mirror.
There was no person in that firelit room aside from himself.
There were a few men standing guard outside the room, near the door, but they were on the other side of the wall, and the old man spoke quietly enough that they would not hear him. To an outside observer, he would appear to be talking to thin air.
A throaty, deep voice spoke directly into the old man’s mind. “Sir, everything is proceeding without a hitch.”
The voice’s owner was Alexis, an imperial priest known as a goði who served as a representative of the divine emperor in outland provinces. Currently, he was serving far to the west in the region of Álfheimr.
It was being kept a secret from everyone else, but Alexis was an Einherjar with the rune Gnævar, Traveler of the Skies. One of his runic powers was the ability to communicate his thoughts with others across any distance, via the use of mirrors like this one.
The old man had long since lost the sight in his left eye, but Alexis served as a more-than-ample replacement. Thanks to Alexis, his sight reached as far as it ever had. This was why the old man was feared by many, and whispered of by the alias of “Skilfingr, the Watcher from on High.”
“The two clans will spend the remainder of this winter making their preparations, and estimates are that they will be at full strength and readiness when the war begins. I humbly believe that this time, I will be able to produce results that match your expectations, sir.”
“Hm, that is splendid to hear,” the old man replied.
Until little more than a year ago or so, the Wolf Clan had been unimportant to him, little more than a tiny clan weak enough that a defeat could have wiped it off the map. But before he’d realized it, in the span of mere months, they had defeated and subjugated their neighboring clans and now grown to become one of the ten largest and most powerful clans on the continent.
This was a truly alarming situation. If he didn’t do something about it now, soon things might get out of his ability to control.
The Lightning Clan patriarch Steinþórr was a great warrior as strong as a thousand men, and there were none in the wide world of Yggdrasil who could match his skill and valor in pure combat. Then there was the Panther Clan patriarch, Hveðrungr. He had grown power and influence of the Panther Clan with a speed no less impressive than that of the Wolf Clan.
According to reports from Alexis, every one of Hveðrungr’s soldiers, down to the rank and file, could ride a horse skillfully, even fight on horseback, and they were all experts at using the bow.
In terms of military power, both of these two clans were equal to or stronger than the Wolf Clan. Even if one were to consider the idea that the young man leading the Wolf Clan was actually some great hero and genius, marvelous enough to exceed the likes of the first divine emperor Wotan, it was still hard to think he’d be able to overcome the crisis presented by the threat of both of those enemy clans working together.
However, the old man was cautious at heart, and meticulous. With an issue this dire and important, one needed to be as sure as possible.
“And how are things going with the other matter?” he asked.
“As I said before, sir, everything is proceeding without a hitch. She readily gave her consent.”
“I see, I see. As always, you work quickly,” the old man said, satisfied, and stroked his long beard thoughtfully.
There was now nothing to be concerned about. The Black One would, without a doubt, soon be gone from this world.
A dry cackle fell from the old man’s lips. “Keh heh, keh heh heh, if I’m to fulfill my dearest wish, then I can’t let this empire fall just yet. I’m afraid any interlopers will be forced to leave quickly... and permanently.”
To Be Continued...
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