Fragments of your Soul (The Mirror Worlds Book 1) (11 page)

As Arvid came back to her hostel from a visit to the market two days later, a young man was waiting on her in the taproom. He introduced himself as Gerdur and explained that he had been instructed to accompany her to Vero-Maghen. Arvid was surprised, as she had not expected to be picked up after such a short time. Still, she hurried to pack her few belongings, and an hour later they were on their way to the eastern gate. Gerdur had come on foot, and so Arvid led her horse by the bridle.

Arvid was stunned to learn that Gerdur and Nod were a couple, and Gerdur had therefore volunteered to help her. He also knew Thoke, briefly, though still well enough to know that he was fine. Gerdur was tall and had the same light blond hair as Thoke, but looked older and seemed to be incredibly curious. He continuously asked Arvid about her home, even though he said that he basically shouldn’t mention it, and that her origin should stay a secret to protect her.

A few hours later they climbed the hill on which the huge building of Vero-Maghen rose up into the sky. Arvid discovered some guards with lances and white tabards that walked up and down the hill. On this side alone there had to be at least twenty, and the closer they got, the more she saw.

“Since the circle of protection was destroyed, they patrol between Vero-Maghen and the city,” said Gerdur. “The school itself is under constant surveillance. The City Guard did not have enough people, so Asgard sent help.”

“Wait, are you talking about the circle of protection around Vero-Maghen?” said Arvid.

“Yes,” said Gerdur. “Didn’t you hear about it?”

“No. Has the circle of protection been damaged by the earthquake?”

“I wouldn’t call it damaged. The circle around the city was damaged. It could be fixed in a few days. The circle around Vero-Maghen, on the other hand, is completely destroyed. Some of the cliffs crashed into the sea, and with them a large part of the circle of protection. Of course they’re rebuilding it, but that could take all winter. First, a new base has to be built, then one of Asgard’s rune masters will have to help restore the spell.”

Arvid was amazed as they approached the school. It was gorgeous, with a domed roof that was almost as high the stone walls below. Warmly lit almond-shaped windows were blinking out of it like eyes. The walls were plastered sand color, and a broad, artistically painted stripe above the second floor spread along the entire facade like a ribbon. The powerful beams that supported the roof had been carved into sinuous spirals and ornaments. It seemed like a miracle that Vero-Maghen had survived the earthquake unscathed. Only a long crack in the faceplate reminded of it.

“About half of the students live directly at the school, but not all can afford it,” said Gerdur after they had housed Arvid’s horse in the stables on the north side. “The rest come on foot or on horseback, many only sporadically. Often they only have to follow certain courses to be added to a craft guild. In the evening the stables are usually half empty.”

Even the interior of the school building was impressive. Arvid remembered how Thoke had once mentioned that it resembled the town hall of Black Castle, and that was true. The buildings were of the exact same type, but Vero-Maghen’s size and splendor was superior in every way.

From the semi-circular entrance hall, wide stairs to the left and right led up to the gallery. Between them hung a huge tapestry. It was black and bore the crest of Vero-Maghen: a ring, divided into four parts.

“They represent the four faculties,” Gerdur said. “The black one, the white one, the runesmiths and the shapeshifters. No other school in the country has so many shapeshifters as students. There is only one other school that offers special lessons for shapeshifters, and it’s located in the Temple City.”

“What exactly do shapeshifters do?” said Arvid, while they were walking down a long corridor.

Gerdur looked at her in amazement. “They can change their shape,” he said. “Didn’t you know that?”

“Their shape? You mean… their body?”

“Yes. They can take pretty much any shape they want. Or… well… it depends on how strong their gift is.”

“Really?”Arvid said incredulously. “That sounds… a little disconcerting.”

“You get used to it. Here at the school, there is also a rule that the students must maintain an agreed-upon appearance, to avoid confusion.” Suddenly, he stopped and asked, “What did Nod look like when you met him?”

“Nod is a shapeshifter?” said Arvid, aghast. “Hold on, she’s… is she… is he really a man?”

Gerdur laughed. “Neither,” he said. “Shapeshifters change their sex as they please, but Nod prefers to be addressed with ‘he’. Here at the school, he has a male form.”

Arvid followed Gerdur up some stairs. Again and again they had to move out of the way of students in the same dark blue tunics as Gerdur’s. Finally they reached Master Aeldjarn’s office, where Gerdur left her for the moment.

Aeldjarn awaited her with a smug expression. He had not become much more sympathetic since Arvid had met him last. His piercing gaze was still uncomfortable, his smile placed and artificial. He asked her about the past few weeks, but Arvid replied tersely and evasively. On the one hand, she did not want to talk to someone like Aeldjarn about the events on Horalf’s farm. On the other hand, the memories still haunted her and she would rather not think about it.

Finally Aeldjarn opened a drawer in a massive wooden cabinet and took a few things out.

“This comes from your patron,” he said, pushing two small leather bags across the table.

Arvid took one and heard a soft tinkle. “Money?” she asked in astonishment. “I thought my patron would pay the school fees directly.”

“That’s correct. The money is for clothes and other things you’ll need. The contents of the black bag,” he pointed to the smaller of the two, “are intended for a soul gem. It is the express wish of your patron that it remains unopened until then, so remember this.”

“What is a soul gem?”

“A very special kind of stone,” said Aeldjarn with a wave of the hand. “It can strengthen certain kinds of magic, but no need to worry about that right now. Such an acquisition will only be relevant after your skills have developed.”

Arvid weighed the bag in her hand. She did not know a lot about money, but thinking about the value of the handful of coins she had taken from Horalf’s farm, this bag must contain a fortune—at least by her standards. “How much money is that?” she asked.

“More than enough. Even if you think to need three pairs of shoes… money won’t be an issue.”

Now Arvid’s curiosity was really piqued. “Who is my patron, Master?”

Aeldjarn frowned and sat back in his chair with a faint groan. “I heard you spoke to him in the city hall.”

“Do you mean Loke?” said Arvid, stunned. “He’s my patron?”

“Yes, he is. However, only the headmaster and I know that—and you, of course. You would do well to keep it to yourself.”

“Of course, I… I thought he would just find a patron for me.”

“It is indeed extraordinary,” agreed Aeldjarn. “Although it has occasionally been the case, it happens very rarely that a god acts as a patron.” He absently ran his hand over his bearded chin. “He’s very generous, I admit. Still, I was shocked when I found out.”

“Why?”

Aeldjarn did not answer immediately. He folded his hands across his chest and looked intently at Arvid. “Loke doesn’t help anyone out of sympathy, or because he wants to do something good,” he said. “He’s not in a guild either, so your training is of no use to him. There must be a certain intention, but I can’t see what it is. I fear that…” He stopped and hesitated, then continued, “I can only hope that it has no negative impact on our school. Maybe he has told you more?”

Arvid looked back at him quietly, shaking her head. “I’m afraid not.” She could have told him about her trade with Loke, but her instinct told her not to. She would not squander her chance.

Aeldjarn looked visibly disappointed.

“Master, who exactly is Loke?” said Arvid instead.

“He is a god who has avowed himself to Asgard, but rarely stays there,” said Aeldjarn. “He’s… different. He is complicated and unpredictable, and it is said he has a dark side. Many people fear him, though he is among Odin’s closest friends.” The Master once again showed one of his postured smiles. “But don’t worry, you have nothing to fear. If you’re interested, you can read more about him in the library. At the moment, we should concentrate on other things, though.”

He grabbed a few sheets of paper, which he handed to Arvid. “The house rules,” he said, “and a list of the courses that you shall attend. Loke has selected them for you, there’s nothing you can do about that. You are neither required to solve the exercises, nor take part in the tests, you just have to listen.”

Arvid skeptically looked at the stack of paper in front of him. She still couldn’t read any of it, and so she tried to follow Aeldjarn’s explanations the best she could. She would get her own room, and in addition, she received permission to inspect all copies of the records about the world transitions in the library. In turn, she was expected to write a report to her patron every three weeks to inform him of the status of her training. Arvid didn’t know how exactly she would do that.

The Month of the Black Waters

The next few weeks flew by. Arvid finally met Thoke again and learned with relief that Falla was also doing well. She now lived in a different house, which, however, was so small that Thoke had moved to the school. Several times a week he rode down to the city to help her.

Arvid participated in the classes at Vero-Maghen from the first day, but hardly anyone really noticed her. It was no wonder. Some thirty or more students were present, and there seemed to be no fixed classes, so she saw other faces over and over again. Only now and then someone took notice of her distinctive hair, which Arvid still wore mostly down. She could have made a simple braid, but mostly she just didn’t have time in the morning.

There were some courses where Arvid didn’t learn much. It happened again and again that she couldn’t understand a single thing. Even the general lessons for white mages were rather discouraging. Arvid failed even at the simplest exercises. She was not able to convert light into heat. The only thing she could manage were fog-like structures, which she soon hated wholeheartedly.

It took several weeks before Arvid met Nod again, since he only attended classes sporadically. However, the reunion left a bitter aftertaste. Although Arvid had already been forewarned, it was a remarkable experience to suddenly meet him as a man. He was as calm as he had been as a woman, but he was distant and disappeared again after a short time. Arvid had expected a little more warmth after his help and their conversation at the city gate.

“He’s pretty stressed out,” said Gerdur one evening, as they sat in the dining room. Nod had not even looked at Arvid since their first meeting at the school. “Since the earthquake, he is often out late at his post. Currently, it’s not exactly a piece of cake working for the City Guard.”

The absence of the circle of protection was, in fact, clearly noticeable. Members of the City Guard and soldiers of Asgard, with their white tabards, seemed to be everywhere. The school building was surrounded day and night. In one corner of the dining room, a table had been reserved exclusively for the guards. Even in the corridors, which were full of students in dark blue school uniforms during the breaks, the white of Asgard could be seen at almost any hour.

Every morning Arvid received private lessons in reading and writing from a woman called Aleri. She herself was a student, happy and carefree, still very young, but an excellent teacher. She tried, unsuccessfully, to tame her frizzy, dark blonde hair into thick braids.

“My father is runesmith in Tjelde,” she told Arvid. “He would have liked it if I had had the same gift, but now he has to put up with a white mage.”

Arvid found it difficult to tell something about herself without lying to Aleri. Aeldjarn had made it clear that she should not talk about her true origin, and as Arvid had promised Loke to respect the rules, she felt obliged to listen to him. Fortunately Aleri was very talkative, and Arvid soon learned to use counter-questions to avoid unpleasant situations. At the same time she learned a lot about the school and the city, for Aleri had six older siblings, all of whom were trained at Vero-Maghen.

“Forty years ago there were only three hundred students here,” said Aleri. “Today, there are nearly six hundred, as many come to class from the city and from the surrounding villages. It’s expensive, but you no longer have to belong to the upper class to be allowed on Vero-Maghen—although it displeases Borgarr.”

“Who’s that?”

“But Arvid!” laughed Aleri. “He’s the headmaster. Didn’t you know?”

Arvid mused. “Yes, I think Gerdur mentioned it once.”

“Everyone knows him around here. He is a god, a member of the City Council, but very stubborn. Apparently he never wanted to belong to Asgard, can you believe that?”

“If I were a god, I would not want that either,” snorted Arvid.

“You’d change your mind quickly once you were there,” Aleri said dreamily. “Asgard is a city of palaces. It is white and bright, and there are so many star lamps you can no longer see the sky. Who wouldn’t want to live there?”

“Someone who likes to see the stars, perhaps?” Arvid said.

Aleri laughed brightly. “Oh, come on, I’m serious! You’d never have to worry about the demons. You’d have servants who washed your clothes and did your hair. The chefs would prepare whatever you like, and while eating you could sit at a long, brightly lit table and chat with the gods.”

“They’re only gods,” muttered Arvid. “I’d rather practice runes with you.”

Since she had met Loke, Arvid tried to remember that not all gods were the same. Still it was difficult to lose her antipathy toward Asgard. She was not sure why, but whenever someone enthused about the gods and Asgard, it filled her with resentment.

Aleri often did, though she did so in such a joyous and innocent way, that Arvid could not really blame her.

“Uludar was the first god who surrounded an entire town by a circle of protection,” Master Coth, one of her teachers, said the next day. “At first, many thought he was crazy, but his plan was successfully implemented and made Black Castle the first city whose residents could move freely, without having to be constantly on the alert. For this reason, the people gave him the title ‘God of Resistance’.” Coth ran his thumb and index finger through his bushy white beard, then stopped and turned to face his students. “Many gods have been given titles by the people. Who can tell me interesting examples?”

A few other gods were named, among them naturally Odin, the Omniscient. Some of the names seemed familiar to Arvid, but she couldn’t remember any other ones herself.

“Some gods are known almost exclusively by their titles,” Coth continued, “while others have titles that are rarely used. The title isn’t always very meaningful, but in most cases it suggests what great deeds a god has accomplished, or what kind of position he holds.”

Arvid had a spontaneous thought and her hand shot up. Magister Coth looked skeptically at her—it was the first time that she had actively participated in a lesson. Various students also turned in surprise to look at her, as if they were only now noticing that she was present in the hall.

“Yes, please?” asked Coth.

“What title does the god Loke have?” she asked.

Coth raised his eyebrows. “An interesting question,” he said. “Can anyone answer it?”

A young man in the back corner raised his hand and Coth nodded at him. “God of Chaos,” replied the student.

“That’s not wrong,” Coth said. “The people often call him that. Does anyone know the nickname given to him by the gods?”

A young woman with a white-blond, curly forelock answered. Arvid knew that her name was Enild, because Aleri often spent time with her and they had eaten together from time to time. “My mother used to call him ‘God of Lies and Chaos’,” she said.

“Exactly,” said Coth. “‘God of Lies’ is the title given to him by the gods, but most simply call him ‘God of Chaos’.” He turned back to Arvid. “I hope that answers your question.”

“It does, Master,” she said. “But why do people call him that?”

Coth slowly walked over to his desk. “The answer to this question is beyond the scope of my teaching,” he said. “If you’re interested, I can recommend you a book after the lesson.”

Arvid had no choice but to accept that.

Although the rest of the lesson was quite exciting, she only listened with half an ear. She pondered what the fuss with Loke’s negative sounding titles was about. She was certain that Master Aeldjarn’s obviously mixed feelings toward her patron had to do with it, but he had also only referred to books. Meanwhile Arvid could read simple texts, but entire books? It would probably take days to work through even one chapter.

Nevertheless Arvid went to Master Coth after the lesson. “You wanted to recommend me a book,” she reminded him.

“Right,” Coth said, reaching for a piece of paper. “I’ll write it down for you. What was your name again?”

“Arvid.”

“I’m sorry I was unable to elaborate on your question, Arvid. But time is short and the curriculum extensive.” He wrote something on the sheet and handed it to her. “Why are you interested in it?”

“Just so,” Arvid said. “I have… heard stories, that’s all.”

Coth played absentmindedly with a strand of his mustache. “Well, if I may give you some advice, do not believe everything it says. There are an extraordinary number of stories about Loke and very few of them are true.” He chuckled. “It may be because most of them come from himself.”

“Thank you, Master. I will keep that in mind.”

On a day of rest Thoke came up to Arvid at the breakfast table. She usually ate with Aleri, but this morning she had slept unusually long and was one of the last. The large hall was almost empty. Apart from a few scattered students, only a group of soldiers of Asgard was there, sitting at a table in the corner and throwing dice.

Thoke asked her about her classes and spoke about Falla, but Arvid could feel that he had actually come to her for something completely different. It took a while until he finally came to the point.

“Do you have any plans for today?” he asked.

“I wanted to check out a book in the library,” Arvid said. “Otherwise, no. Why?”

“Well, I was wondering… if you… if you might feel like riding down to the sea with me,” he said haltingly.

Arvid did not know if she’d feel like it, because the temperatures were freezing. In the morning, she had seen scattered snowflakes fall, yet it would do her well to go outside and get some fresh air. Finally, she nodded. “Why not. Is there a beach?”

“Unfortunately not, at least not a sandy one,” Thoke said. “Everything’s just stones and rocks. But you can see where the wall for the new circle of protection is formed. I’ve already seen it a couple of times. They say it will take about three months until it is finished.”

“That long?” marveled Arvid. “Is it that complicated?”

“Yes, the circle is being completely rebuilt,” Thoke answered. “The broken piece is so big, the rest no longer fits. You’ll see it when we are there.”

It was afternoon when they had finally saddled their horses and were on the way down the hill and to the coast. Arvid had never been on this side of the school before. The ground sloped down gently, but from the grassy ground, large, flat rocks repeatedly emerged. Not far away a pitch-black spruce forest began. The white tabards of the countless patrolling guards looked like bright spots in front of it.

Snow continued falling, and a fierce, cold wind came from the coast. The sea looked like a dark, shimmering surface of polished lava rock, and here and there, the water rippled in small, elongated waves. Already from here, Arvid could see the cliffs. At one point there was a multitude of equipment and wagons, lit by a handful star lamps. But they were still too far away for the details to be recognizable.

“I’ll have to get warmer clothes soon,” Arvid said, as they rode along the narrow path. “The school uniforms clearly aren’t made for outside.” Although she was wearing two of the tunics and her woolen cape, she was freezing.

“That’s true. You can come with me to the city when I visit Falla next time,” Thoke said. “But do you have money for new clothes?”

“Yes, don’t worry,” Arvid said. “To find a store and choose something that is considered appropriate here is probably the bigger issue.”

Thoke laughed. “When it comes to clothing, there are no very strict rules here. However,” he gave her a thoughtful look, “you should really start wearing your hair differently.”

“Aleri keeps saying that too,” sighed Arvid. “Is that really so important?”

“It’s good manners,” Thoke said with a shrug. “It may seem trivial to you, but wearing long hair down is considered unkempt. It would be as if… a man in the Light World wasn’t wearing his shirt in his pants, or walking down the street without a hat.”

Arvid looked at him in surprise. “What century are you from? Who wears hats? And there are shirts that are meant to be worn over the pants.”

“Really?” Thoke asked, frowning. “But you know what I’m trying to say, right?”

“I think so.” Arvid actually understood. Thoke came here fourteen years ago, which corresponded to over seventy years in the Light World.

The wind was even stronger when they reached the edge of the cliff. They dismounted and tied their horses to a nearby tree, before they went over to the construction site. Thoke showed her a mighty rock, from which they could look down on the unfinished wall.

Now Arvid understood what Thoke had tried to explain to her: The entire area seemed to be broken and plunged into the depths in a semicircular arc. The wall of the circle of protection led directly towards the hole. The missing part was enormous. In class, Arvid had learned that a circle of protection must be round in order for the spell to work. This gaping hole made it impossible to create a new circle without rebuilding it from scratch.

“The guards don’t like it when you get too close,” Thoke said. “They’re simultaneously working in five places, yet it is an incredible feat. The site has to be dug everywhere and brought to the same level.”

They walked along the ditch which had been dug right through the grassy terrain. Only a piece of the wall was already embedded in it, and when Arvid looked into the distance, she understood better why the rebuilding took so long. The circle was gigantic, even though it only surrounded a single building. It was hard to imagine how big the one around Black Castle was.

“Shouldn’t they watch the premises?” said Arvid, as they passed a group of white-robed soldiers who had gathered in the shade of a mighty rock. They had lit a fire, and took little note of Thoke and Arvid as they passed.

“Yes,” Thoke said. “They’re probably freezing. One can hardly blame them.”

They walked on, but after a short while something in front of them caught Arvid’s attention.

“What’s that?” she asked, alarmed. On the grassy hill in front of them, something like a black shadow had appeared, but was now gone. Arvid believed she also heard a noise, something like a hiss, but it was hard to hear anything over the crackling of the nearby fire. Had she only imagined it? The glow of the campfire made the environment seem even darker, so she could hardly see anything.