Mia Darien - Good Things

Yet she continued to walk and nothing happened. She heard nothing and saw nothing, and it just made her anxiety and paranoia rise higher with each step. It was like watching a horror movie when you knew The Scare was coming, but you didn’t know what or how or when. You just knew that it was coming, and grew preemptively scared.

Then she saw that she was coming upon a clearing. It looked almost like the one that Odin had come to her in, and she wondered what would be in it.

She didn’t have to wonder long before she crested the edge and entered the clearing, where she saw another giant of a man sitting beside a giant of a wolf. The man wore jeans and a black t-shirt with bare feet, leaning back against the base of a tree with those long legs stretched out before him. She took in his long hair and goatee, as well as the giant grey wolf that lay beside him like a big dog. His arm rested over the wolf’s back, and when she saw the stump instead of a hand, she knew.

“Tyr,” she said slowly, coming to a stop at the edge of the clearing. If he was Tyr, that meant the wolf was... “Fenrir.” She greeted the wolf son of Loki with respect as well, for he was a magnificent creature.

“You are Jesse Dixon.” The god smiled, although she couldn’t find that it was the happiest or most welcoming of expressions. “You are here because you need something, and the gods are tired of granting favors that have not been earned.”

“I’m here to earn it,” she stated brazenly. She knew that Tyr, god of things like justice and battle, only respected strength.

“That has yet to be seen,” he replied. “You know my friend here.” He nodded toward the wolf, who was easily the size of a horse and who twitched his ear lazily. “You knew enough to summon the king of the gods, so you must know how I lost my hand.”

She nodded. “I do,” she said. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach. “It makes your friendship here a surprise.”

That actually drew a short laugh from him. “We live in strange times now, don’t we?”

“That’s hard to dispute.” Jesse inhaled deeply and held his gaze. “So, what would you have of me to prove myself?”

“Do you have courage?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

He laughed again, the same short, near-bark sound. “That might as well prove that you’re a fool.”

She felt herself bristle inwardly. God or not, he stood between her and her best chance to save her husband’s life. She would not be laughed at, nor would she be delayed. However, she knew she had no chance if she fought him. “I suppose time alone will tell.”

Was that a look of approval in his eye? She didn’t risk hope. “I suppose it will.” Again, he nodded to the wolf. “Prove it.”

Jesse lost her annoyance when she didn’t understand what he meant. It wasn’t until the giant wolf opened his mouth that she understood, and her stomach dropped into her feet. This was the wolf that had bitten off the hand of a god... What could it do to a mere human? If she felt like she had breathed shallowly before, she was sure that she stopped entirely now.

She could live without a hand, right?

Even as her brain made that resolution, her feet didn’t seem to agree. They were filled with concrete as she forced herself to take those steps closer to the creature. He remained as still as a statue, just waiting for her. Just as her hand was close enough to slide between those giant, terrifying jaws, she put her slender hand between those giant jaws. She winced, but refused to let her eyes shut.

He hadn’t said for how long, so she simply stood there and trembled from head to toe.

Jesse stared at the face of the wolf. It stared back at her. As her hand trembled, he made no move at all.

It was just as she was going to ask how long he expected her to wait when she saw the first twitch from the wolf. Suddenly, those jaws were shutting. It all moved in slow motion as she watched them begin to close, but some force she didn’t understand kept her from trying to tear her hand away. She knew that she would fail if she did, so she held firm and let out a small shriek.

Just as the jaws closed, the non-corporeal teeth passed through her and the wolf vanished.

She gasped and shook, unable to pull her hand back as she looked at Tyr. He was smiling, and this time, the expression was less dark. “Fenrir and I are not friends,” he said, his voice low like he was sharing a conspiracy. “Perhaps you do have courage. Climb the mountain, girl. Odin awaits.”

With that, he stood from his indolent position and left the clearing.

It took her a moment before she was able to swallow her heart and force her trembling body to move forward again.

As she cleared the edge of the forest and came to the base of the mountain, she felt like she was breathing again. Barely. Putting her hands on her hips, she waited until she stopped feeling lightheaded. Lead bars were still in her legs and she knew her hands were still shaking, she could feel it on the inside.

At the top of this hill was where she needed to be. She was almost there and she could almost feel him up there. His power radiated like a storm cloud and she felt it pull her. The metal in her legs and the shallow breaths in her chest could not stop her. She started walking.

It was easy at first with the shallow incline at the base, but it soon became harder. The mountain rapidly became steep. The ground was dry and dusty, with rocks that came loose of their spaces too easily to use them as grips. It came to the point where she had to dig her hands directly into the dirt.

Grit pricked underneath her fingernails. She coughed as the dust climbed down her throat, coming up in puffs as she panted from her exertion and couldn’t avoid inhaling it. She felt the strain in her muscles rapidly moving from sore and fatigued to painful. It felt as though her bones were going to break with each step.

The mountainside was just shy of being impossible to climb without gear.

It felt like the further she got, the further the top was. She began to despair of ever reaching it. How could she have thought she could do this? The gods themselves had literally set out these challenges, so she couldn’t imagine how she thought she’d be able to do this... It was too hard...

She stopped right where she was, clinging to the side of the mountain. These thoughts got her nowhere, and she began to feel like she had when she heard the whispers and when she moved nearer to the image of Fenrir. This was another test. She had to get through. The only way to get there was through.

Inhaling deeply, she looked up again. Suddenly, the hall seemed a lot closer.

If she hadn’t been so exhausted, she would have smiled. Instead, she just started climbing again with renewed determination. The rocks still tumbled away from her grasp, tumbling down the mountain behind her. She stopped looking at the top and just focused on moving forward, hand after hand and foot after foot, until suddenly, she crested the top.

There before her stood the Hall of Odin.

After having collapsed for several long minutes just to find her breath and heart beat again, she pushed herself up and strode into the hall of the gods.

When she opened the heavy doors, she had expected the revelry and drinking that one might hear about in a tale of the Norse. Yet it was perfectly silent. The sound of the door slamming behind her made her jump as she strode between the long, empty wooden tables. The tankards remained in their places, some overturned and some upright, plates scattered, all as though they had left suddenly.

At the far end of the hall was a large but otherwise plain wooden chair, with a one-eyed man in a dark suit waiting for her.

He rose as she approached.

“I have made it to your hall, All-Father,” she announced. She was out of breath and wanted to collapse, and just weep, at any moment, but she would not fall just before the finish line. It was there before her, standing with an unreadable expression. He stepped down the short dais as she neared him.