Zoltraak: Ragnarok- Chapter 24 (Patreon)

Chapter 24:

Atreus

The morning light and air was carried with birdsong, Atreus listened to it, and sat at the edge of the open window that dominated his room, legs swinging on its outside. 

It wasn’t like back home. Where every day he and his father hand their hands full just with daily tasks. Hunt, train, skin the meat, dry the furs, cut the wood, make the fires, feed the wolves, check the traps, prepare the traps, reinforce the Wards, forage, train some more. Day in and day out.

Here… he could sit. He could watch and listen and almost breathe.

He missed home. He did. But he would miss things like this when he was gone.

The lake still glimmered like sparkling glass, and he still, even now, wished to fly over it.

Not with the levitation spell… it was like an itch at the back of his brain, urging him, calling him. He didn’t want to levitate. He wanted to fly. 

But he pushed the thoughts away even as he sat; his legs ached and by now, he was counting the dance steps in his dreams. One-two-three One-two-three But just this view alone, if nothing else, made it worth it.

Not that the dancing itself wasn’t… fun… though he was a little embarrassed to admit it. The simple rhythmic patterns, the memorization, even just sheer novelty. 

Stark didn’t seem to enjoy it as much, and after Fern had gotten roped into joining them because Stark or ‘Wirt’ needed a ‘date’ she didn’t seem to enjoy it much either. 

And Atreus couldn’t tell if his father liked it or not. 

Oh sure, he did everything as instructed without complaint, but that could have just been sheer stubbornness and pride, or as his father would call it ‘Discipline’ at play

He heard the door of his room open, and turned to look, finding Frieren and Fern marching inside.

“Good afternoon.” The elf said.

Afterno- Oh yeah… She wouldn’t wake up early enough for the morning.

“Hey-” He greeted. 

Atreus turned, looking at the sun which was high enough in the sky to qualify as noon now that he cared to actually notice. 

Fern and Frieren let themselves inside. “It’s a beautiful day.” The small mage noted, and Atreus couldn’t help but grin. 

“It really is.” He replied. 

“I can hardly appreciate it.” Fern groaned miserably, taking a seat. “My ankles are killing me.”

“The dancing isn’t that strenuous-” He said.

And when Fern looked at him, it was at that precise moment that he knew- he messed up.

The Girl’s glare was like an iron rod, glowing with heat, and whatever ‘pain’ she had in her ankles was thoroughly lost as she marched straight up to gim glowering.

“You.” She puffed out her cheeks. “Did not have to practice those dance moves for eight hours-”

Yes he had, him and Stark both ha-

“In heels” She hissed.

Atreus opened his mouth, a reflexive question of -’How bad could it be’ just there, just on the cusp of being given voice. 

Then, something, perhaps sheer divine intervention made him see sense just in time and the hind part of his brain seized control, strangling the question in the crib and locking the stupid part of him that wanted to ask it, away.

Instead he smiled, holding up his hands in defense. “Y-yeah. Yeah, you’re right. That must suck.Fern was still glowering, hands clenched into fists, cheeks puffed up, but she looked more angry at the world rather than at him specifically. 

Frieren got up onto the window sill, hands behind her back, the breeze from outside catching her silver hair. 

“We should head out.” She declared, a soft smile across her lips. “It’s been a while since we’ve had time to train our magic as mages do, and it’d be a shame to let such a nice day go to waste.”

In spite of himself, Atreus did feel a coil of excitement run through him; it had been a while since they’d practiced magic together and he could almost feel his Mana under his skin like an itch waiting to be scratched.

He looked to Fern though. “Ummm, Today is a rest day though-” Their schedules were such that they practiced six days and rested on the seventh, today was the designated rest day. “Are you feeling up to it?” He asked. It was rare for Fern to openly declare that she was tired, so if she was tired, maybe rest would be best.

But Fern shook her head. “No, I do want to practice.” She answered firmly, and though she didn’t smile he could almost feel her own excitement at the prospect.

Magic really was so much fun.

—

Just a short while later, Atreus was reminded, rather pointedly, that while he technically had more skill and variety in those skills than Fern had; being an archer, fairly decent athlete, and capable of summoning various spirit beasts to aid him in combat-

Fern was a monstrously powerful mage.

He nocked, drew and loosed the arrow, and in the span of just that second or two, Fern had already launched another ten blasts that were sending him sprinting to try and get out of the way.

"Kráku lið Zoltraak!" 

His breathless incantation still did the trick, calling a murder of crows wreathed in blazing Zoltraak energy; that shrieked as they swarmed and flew towards Fern from every direction, looking to overwhelm her defenses through the sheer angles of attack.

And with speed that was practically the embodiment of ‘Blink and you miss it’ Fern was surrounded by glyphs and powerful barriers, the ravens breaking against the fortress that was her defense, white fire and smoke bellowing out around her and Atreus tried to rush forward, to close the distance as he nocked another arrow.

A white beam nearly took his head off; he only dodged it by dropping, sliding across the grassy field pulling the arrow back as the smoke began to clear.

Fern was already looking at him, her features utterly neutral as she held her staff at the ready- he realized his mistake, not suppressing his mana enough, but still tried to strike, the arrow crackling with lightning.

But before he could let loose, the head of the arrow snapped straight off, and a sharp sting along the back of his hand holding the bow made his grip falter, the headless arrow sailing off past Fern’s shoulder.

She kept staring at him, the head of her staff crowned with white Zoltraak light. “I think the bout is mine.”

Atreus let himself fall back, laying flat on the soft grass as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Well done.”

Frieren marched forward, her happy smile showing how pleased she was. “That last attack was inspired Fern.”

“Yeah- what was that?” Atreus asked, lifting his head to look at the stoic girl. 

Fern didn’t answer, not with words.

Instead, Atreus felt a… pinprick, a static along his senses and when he looked, he found the blades of grass around him, the very tips of them, glowing with tiny Zoltrak lights, barely even the point of a pin tip’s in width.

But there were hundreds of them.

“Oh that’s not fair” he bemoaned. 

“You teaching us how to sense the Mana in all things, changes dynamics, its only natural Fern would create something unexpected.” Frieren said. 

Fern, for her part seemed to preen under the praise; her earlier pout replaced by a beaming, closed lipped smile. 

“It’s curious though.” Frieren continued, one hand cupping her chin. “Your Mana is still restless.”

That caught Atreus’ attention. “Huh?”

“Your Mana.” The elf explained. “I can feel it. Odd really. It feels like it wants to be used.”

“I cant sense anything like that.” Fern admitted.

The elf shook her head. “It’s subtle and not something you’d sense in this Era. Particularly gifted elves could manifest it when their spirits grew restless and they were neglecting or unaware of a particular talent.”

“So what do I do?” He asked, sitting up.

“I’m not sure.” She said. “I was still very young when there were enough elves to ask, and the scrolls were never particularly helpful, My impression was that it was a deeply personal thing, down to the individual elf. Serie might now more specifics.”

“But we’re still months away from ever meeting Miss Serie.” Fern noted. “Surely we can try to help before that.”

Frieren nodded. “Indeed.” She knelt down in the grass. “Tell me… What is it that your Mana, that you want to do…” She perked up suddenly. “Perhaps it has something to do with discovering your domain.”

Now that was a thought.

Atreus thought, and the immediate answer came to him, the itch that had been scratching at his thoughts for days.

I want to fly.

—

Mimir.

“Good, very good!”

The maid’s praise was delivered with genuine sincerity, as Kratos led her along the routine steps of the foreign dance. Each step measured and careful, you’d never guess that the giant of a man gliding so gracefully across the floors with a lady in arm was the same one that would rip a Monster’s jaw off and beat him to death with it.

As the music came to an end, Kratos dipped into the traditional closing bow, the maid doing likewise.

“And with that-” The violinist, a portly man with a jovial face spoke up, placing his instrument, which truly was a marvelous creation with such wonderful sounds, into its carrying box. “-I believe it is time for lunch.”

Kratos grunted, nodding, the maid offered another curtsy and Kratos nodded to her as well. Mimir had to wonder if his brother was ignoring or genuinely oblivious to the increased… admiration in some of those looks being thrown his way these days.

As the two departed to go and bring the ‘lunch’, Mimir spoke up from his sitting position by the corner. “Ya know Brother, I have ta say, I never expected you to take to dancing so well, even practicing on the rest day.”

“We are only a short time here.” Kratos explained. “Why not seek mastery while possible. Or as close to it as one would manage.”

Mimir scoffed, laughing. “You’re allowed to say you enjoy dancing brother.” He cheekily replied with a smirk. 

A brief moment of silence. “I do.”

The admission would have made Mimir’s jaw drop were he anyone else, as it was, it was only met with a slight widening of the eyes. 

“Lysandra loved to dance.” Kratos said. “And Calyope frequently asked me to dance with her during festivities… I… rarely indulged.”

“Ahh…” Mimir didn’t quite tip toe around the conversation. But he did approach it gently. He knew that Kratos’ first family was not one to be brought up lightly. “And now you wish to… make up for lost time? Teach Atreus.”

A moment of quiet.

“...I do not know.” The admission seemed to genuinely beffuddle the War God. “I… simply enjoy it.”

Fair enough.

The maid and the musician returned then, a cart of food ahead of them, the jovial violinist was chuckling over some joke or other.

And that was when something struck the glass window.

The maid gasped, body straightening, hands covering her mouth. “Oh my!”

Mimir turned to look and there, on the windowsill was a magnificent red plumed hawk or eagle. It was a massive beast and it perched on the window, staring at them, as if fully expecting to be let in.

In fact… there was something-

“Little Brother?” The question slipped from Mimir’s lips, his senses detecting that the bird felt like Atreus. His Mana at least.

Kratos looked to the head, and then walked over towards the window.

“Oh sir, do be careful with it.” The maid cried, whether that was worry for Kratos or the bird, Mimir couldn’t say.

Sliding open the glass, Kratos stepped back, and the bird hopped right on in, spreading its wings and hopping onto the Wargod’s forearm.

Kratos stared at the beast, it stared back.

Now, this close. Mimir could see that while the Hawk was red and large and beautiful… one thing hadn’t changed.

It still had Atreus’ eyes.

“Hm.” Kratos grunted, then, almost sighed, resigned. “Do not get into trouble boy.”

The bird preened then hopped off the arm, to fly over towards the maid and violinist, both of whom startled and weaved, half frightened, half delighted as he flew over their heads and then landed on Mimir’s head. 

The God of knowledge and memory chuckled. “I might be half statue now, but don’t go poopin on me little brother.”

The answer was a hawkish screech and just like that, Atreus spread his wings again and flew off, escaping through the open window to soar through the skies.

There were others Mimir knew that could shapeshift into animals, Freja being the most prominent. It wasn’t a gift all Gods posessed, but it did help narrow possible ‘Domains’ for the lad. Zeus had been capable of such as the ruler of the skies, Freja as a Goddess of nature, Cernnunos, another God he knew from the Celtic lands, held the domain of beasts. 

More and more, Mimir was certain that their coming here truly had been a blessing in disguise. It was rare for a God to be able to explore and grow in peace, and he couldn’t help but feel Atreus would be better for it in the end. 

(X)(X)(X)

And so we see Fern expanding her arsenal. Literally xDAnd Atreus learns how to shapeshift 1) Much earlier, and 2) Not being nearly beaten to death by his father thinking he was a bear. I have a very particular scene in mind next chapter involving Sein and what might be a surprise intervention character. Anyone wanna guess who it is? :3Guess you'll find out next week. Catch you all in the next one. :D