102 Fragments of Truth
POV Return to 3rd person
“Tee…cough…he…haha…cough.” Tyler Primal spat up another mouthful of blood and broke into a wide grin seeing the young boy’s approach.
“That… the last attack was something. But, I’ll admit, right up until you dropped the Sun and Moon on me, I didn’t have high expectations for you, YoungBlood.
Though Cynrik himself was struggling to stay standing, Tyler Primal wasn’t in any better condition. So the two stood feet apart and initiated a silent staring contest for some time before it was Cynrik who broke the deadlock.
“Why…why is this happening?” His voice quivered slightly as he tried desperately to get his emotions in check, something he was finding ever increasingly difficult to do.
Cynrik’s words caused Tyler Primal’s face to go from a melancholy expression to a more serious and thoughtful one.
“I…cough…can’t give you all the answers you seek, but I can clarify some things.” Tyler Primal’s voice came out as a wheeze as he released his blade and tiredly sat down crosslegged.
“Sit, there is much to tell; even with the…restrictions placed on this form of mine, it will take time, time that we don’t necessarily have.” With one hand gripping his ribs, Tyler Primal waved his other hand in some discomfort, indicating the boy to sit, sensing that all the malicious intent from earlier had vanished entirely. After a minor struggle of his own, Cynrik sat mimicking the older Æsir’s exact posture.
“What you are…experiencing, emotionally and mentally, is the same for all of us. But, in the beginning, we don’t notice the minute changes our psyche goes through until something occurs within and forces a radical change to our personalities and thoughts.”
“Stop,” Cynrik raised his left eyebrow and tilted his head to the side slightly, an action that caused his torso to spasm in pain, but he ignored it. “What do you mean by “All of US”? You keep speaking in the plural; do you mean the Æsir or someone who specifically received a blessing from a Deity such as the AllFather.”
“Boy, you will do well not to interrupt; also, it’s best if you don’t use his name so light-heartedly, that being is supremely powerful, so much so to the extent that even mentioning his name can draw his eyesight. If we weren’t within your Sea of Consciousness, this conversation wouldn’t be happening.”
“If it weren’t for your…what do you call it, System?”
“Tobs, I call her Tobs.” Looking over his shoulder, Cynrik noticed the small girl appear beside him while hovering inches above the ground as if she was summoned by him saying her name out loud.
Nodding slightly in acknowledgment and tossing a peeking glance at the monochromatic color-haired girl, Tyler Primal Continued.
“Yes, Tobs, if it weren’t for her and being within your own Sea of Consciousness, we couldn’t have this conversation without prying eyes constantly observing. The Deities always, and I mean ALWAYS, have some ulterior motives, and although they have administrator privileges when it comes to systems, they are not in control. Once they develop and are installed, the amount of access the Deities actually have is limited.
“As such, she is loyal to you and only you and is not able to leak specified information to third parties, no matter their status, without your consent. The goings-on of the SOC is a prime example.”
“Now then, to answer your question, by “Us,” I mean those who have been bestowed a blessing. What I am speaking of is not exclusive to a singular race. While our racial traits cause certain things, the bulk of interference for our mental state is caused by the blessings themselves. “Narcissistic, Over Confident, Ruthless, Expert Tacticians, Highly Advanced Intelligence.” These are all traits brought to the forefront to build our personalities as Æsir. There are others, such as Strong Familial Bonds, but they don’t necessarily affect our judgment.”
Tyler Primal brought his hand to his chin and scratched his scorched beard in thought before continuing further without allowing Cynrik to interrupt again.
“The Æsir, since the day we arrived in existence, has always been viewed as bloodthirsty killing machines, who don’t have emotions and would even take the life of newborns if given a chance. While there is some truth in these claims, they see only the superficial appearance we exude when facing our enemies. Conversely, friends, loved ones, and allies see our true faces. However, everything changes when a Deity such as the one who chose us both bestows part of their Divinity onto us mortals.”
Cynrik’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t butt in and chose to hear the Æsir out.
“When a Deity makes a choice to bestow blessings on a mortal, they must fragment their own Souls, which are infused with notoriously incompatible energy, and forcefully merge it with the mortal’s soul. Of course, there are some exceptions to the rule, which I’m sure you can already think of seeing how you know one such being, but for the majority of us, we are slowly corrupted and eaten away by this energy…unless we can integrate it into ourselves, making it our own.”
Cough, Cough
Tyler Primal was overcome by another coughing fit and spewed a few large clumps of coagulated blood, leaving Cynrik to mull over what he had just heard.
The Æsir had indeed clarified a minor amount of incongruities he had learned, but it wasn’t significant enough to please him. Wearing a concerned look, he turned his face up to the floating Tobs, who was watching him expressionlessly. After 12 years together, Cynrik had a grasp on what kind of questions the AI would answer, and it didn’t take a genius to realize that all the information he wanted would be met by her trademark “You don’t have the authorization” line.
“Sigh, Drengr, I know you want conclusive answers, but I can’t give them. Being only a shadow of my former self, hell, I wasn’t even able to take on my own appearance, only one based on someone you were highly familiar with. I will say this, long ago…before the fall of Asgard, I was like you. Someone who had been bestowed blessings, but after being corroded and losing the same battle you have succeeded in, I died and became part of “HIS” Divinity. As such, the portion that I had become was given to you…in the form of blessings and Bloodline.”
As the Æsir spoke, his eyes wandered to Tobs, who had yet to look away from Cynrik, with mixed emotions and glistening eyes. Cynrik could see the sorrow and pain, along with a profound and strange amount of care and gentleness.
“You know her, don’t you.” Cynrik had always been extremely good at reading other people and now wasn’t any different. He could tell there was some kind of connection, and he realized it had to do with the Blessings.
“Aye, but for me, she was different. I named her Lagertha, after the most powerful woman I ever knew. However, it has been thousands of years, and your Tobs is not the same as my Lagertha. They may have been at some point, but it appears that even our systems are reset in a manner similar to reincarnation after their hosts die.”
Cynrik looked away and back up at Tobs; he had many questions. It was like having a model kit without any instructions. He could only stare at the individual pieces and hold them up against each other, and try to fit them into place. From the way the Æsir was actively trying to steer the conversation in a particular direction, Cynrik knew he had to pick and choose his questions carefully, so after giving it a little more thought, he decided to strike.
“This whole thing, this fight, it was clearly a test of some kind. Its purpose was to force me into choosing between giving in and losing myself or breaking free of the restraints holding me back. That much I understand, but the question is why. I don’t care about why I was chosen, and if I break things down by process of elimination, it’s relatively easy to determine that you had made it farther in whatever their plan was; thus, you were the first stepping stone. So what is the Deity’s goal? What is the purpose of this whole thing? It can’t be simply allowing their believers to have a chance at having a second shot at life.”
“The Legacy Strife.” Taking a deep breath, the Æsir finally spoke after what seemed like an eternity. However, the instant he uttered those three words, Cynrik’s SOC shook violently and began forming several cracks in the sky.
The sudden change startled Cynrik, but he reeled in his anxiety when he saw the calm expression on the Æsir and Tobs’ faces; Cynrik shut up and sat silently.
“This is the reason for my existence, mine, and hers.” The Æsir pointed at Tobs to add to his speaking. “All across space and time, numerous different dimensions, realms, planets, or universes are constantly growing and coming to life. When one of these reaches a specific size and has a specified level of abundant resources, every Deity and God compete in an epic scaled war. But as their strength is enough to quickly destroy the place they are warring for, to begin with, each God or Deity is allowed one challenger, called a Legacy Charge, and it is that being who fights on behalf of the one they represent. TSK” The Æsir clicked his tongue loudly and held up his hand. His pupils shrunk, and he shook his head sadly as he saw his hand and the rest of his body start to fragment into dust starting at his fingertips.
“Listen to me, Drengr…no Cynrik Jetlensr, the future you and your brother are striving for leads to you both becoming pawns to the Deities, fight, do what I and so many before you have tried for millennia and failed. I can’t do much for you, but I can push you in the right direction.”
Before Cynrik could respond, the Æsir appeared next to him and placed his disintegrating palm on Cynriks Shoulder. The moment their skin came in contact, Cynrik felt a rush of icy energy flow into his body, starting at his collarbone, and surging to the tips of his fingers.
“In our culture, on a child’s 12 birthday, they must complete a task given by the Yärl(Norse Tribal Chief), if they are successful, the child will earn their first Húðflúr.
Cynrik watched in awe as dark blue knot-like patterns spread around each of his fingers as if alive and crept up, covering his entire hand before stopping at his wrists. Once they stopped spreading, these markings faded away, leaving only a slight discoloration on his skin, where if one concentrated hard enough, they could faintly see their outline.
“Your Bloodline is too thin at present, so you won’t be able to use them for the time being, but once you become strong enough and learn how to use our energy called Seiðr, they will re-emerge. This is all I can do for you, YoungBlood, and also my parting gift.”
Cynrik watched the Æsir step back and start to disintegrate at a rapid rate and only had one final thought.
“Your name…you never told me your name.” Even though not long ago, he had been in a life or death battle with the Æsir, Cynrik oddly felt connected to the being who shared a similar fate to his own, and now this same person had given him his Húðflúr, making him in Cynrik’s mind family. He didn’t know if it was true or not, but for some reason, he subconsciously knew that it was the job of a father, alongside the Yärl to bestow a child their Húðflúr.
“HAHAHA,” the now nearly incorporeal Æsir broke out into a boisterous laugh and made direct eye contact with Cynrik.
“You are something else, using a man’s son’s name but not recognizing the father himself.” Then, smiling mockingly, the man’s face began to shift into that of a middle-aged Norseman, who had a jagged scar running from his right eyebrow down his cheek before ending at his chin.
Breaking into a knowing smile, Cynrik wore a determined expression as he nodded curtly at the man, who was a legend in Viking Mythology, Ragnar Lodbrok
“Do take care not to tarnish the honor my sons have created for themselves. This is farewell.” And with that, the Æsir Spirit of Ragnar Lodbrok shattered into particles of purple light and flowed into Cynriks hands, lighting up his Húðflúr in purple light.
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