Chapter Twenty-Three

By the time Cierra got home, she was exhausted. They had spent hours after her aunt and uncle arrived spooning pork and celery into jiǎozi skins, squeezing them closed with their fingers. Plate after plate had been filled while her grandmother boiled enough for dinner; the rest were thrown in the freezer for easy cooking later in the week.

Having fed Cid and said goodnight to everyone, she picked Cid up and went to upstairs to her room. All she wanted to do was sleep, but for the first time she dreaded the idea of going to bed. Where would she end up tonight? Who would she have to watch die?

She fingered the bracelet on her wrist, she had to get vengeance, which meant she needed to find the transformer right away. She also had an appointment to keep with Baaqir though nothing about West Mountain intrigued her now. It was just a place to go fight beasts now that she had Freya's tears, and the idea of fighting again tonight made Cierra's stomach tighten.

As she got in bed, her leg hit against something hard. Looking under the cover, she found the blade Leif had given her. She took it out, looking it over. The blade was still clean and unlike Freya's tears, it hadn't changed in shape or size. All she had left from the Fólkvangr women was this sword and the tears they had fought to protect.

Her heart sank in her chest, how was she supposed to get revenge for them and free Freya if she was too weak to contribute? Healing was useful, but tiring. What if instead of being constantly on healing duty, she could prevent there from being any damage at all?

Standing back up, she practiced holding the hilt like Silva had taught her, right hand positioned above her left. The sword felt heavier than she remembered, and the metal seemed colder. Stepping one foot forward she practiced swinging, making sure not to lock her elbows. As she thrust down, she imagined Menace and his razor-sharp teeth and the unnamed tree monster with his ever-expanding arms. It didn't take long for her arms to ache in protest, her swings becoming shaky and unsteady.

Forced to put down the sword, she was fully confronted with how long it truly was. Almost the size of her leg, the blade stood out against her bed frame where she had stood it. Her family members didn't come into her room often, but there was no way they would be okay with her keeping a weapon in her room, no matter how undeniably impressive it looked.

There was the obvious option of keeping it under her covers all day, so it was easy to access at night, but what if someone came looking in her room for something? Or Dawn spontaneously decided to come over?

She opened up her closet, four bland dresses and one pair of black slacks staring back at her. On top of the hanging area, there was a short ledge where she stashed all of her winter jackets. Taking them down, she picked up the sword, lying it flat across both hands, and put it up where the jackets had been. She then covered the sword with jackets.

It worked well enough and being unable to think of anywhere else to hide it, decided to leave it there for tonight. She wasn't going to need it anyway, she thought, not tonight anyway.

Laying back in bed, she turned to look at Cid.

"How are you?" She asked, scratching him behind the ears. He closed his eyes, purring.

"Wish I could be as easy-going as you…" She said, giving him one last scratch before rolling onto her back.

Closing her eyes, she thought of only one thing: peace.

When she opened her eyes, she was underwater, walking in on the sand of a bustling city. Around her crabs roamed with little neckties and suitcases, passing her, trying to get to where they needed to go. It was the most outrageous scene Cierra had ever witnessed, crabs living lives like people in advertisements about New York city. On billboards crabs modeled purses and bags or held claws with one another in front of various other shellfish.

Traffic was stuck bumper to bumper, crabs clawing at horns and a crab pushing a baby stroller passed, only instead of having one area for a baby, there were five, each one filled to spilling with tiny red crabs. Cierra had never seen anything like it, it was hilarious.

Cierra glanced down, looking for Cid, to see his reaction but couldn't find him.

Cid? She tried to form the word, but nothing came out. Unnerved, she grabbed at her throat, only to find that she didn't have hands. She tried to move forward but found that only caused the scene around her to switch, as though she had auto moved down the street. She tried calling for Cid again, but nothing happened.

Wake up, she thought to herself, Wake up!

Internally she started screaming, she wanted out, she wanted to see her body, to know Cid was okay, to be back in control.

Everything around her seemed to come to a halt, the crabs stopped walking, and the honking faded into the distance.

"Are you not satisfied?," A woman's voice spoke into her mind.

"Who are you?," Cierra demanded, unable to place the voice from anywhere she knew.

"I am your reward," She said, "I am the treasure you worked so hard for."

The scene around her changed and four golden fires shined in front of her, shaped like flickering tear drops, in front of a pitch black back drop.

"Are you…" Cierra couldn't believe her eyes, "Are you Freya's tears?"

The fires moved excitedly in response to her questions, flames licking upwards into nothingness.

"You saved us," The woman's voice echoed in on itself now, and all the flames moved in unison, "We wanted to give you a reward."

Cierra, now back in her own body, blinked several times. She couldn't believe her eyes, how were the tears here, as fire, talking to her? She looked at her wrist and saw the bracelet still there, intact.

"How is this possible?" Cierra asked, unsure of what else to say.

"We heard your wish for peace and chose to give you a dream. A real dream." The voices echoed her. "You tire of the dream realms, we can fix that for you, for tonight."

Taking a minute to collect her thoughts, Cierra noticed something.

"Why are there only four of you? Shouldn't there be five?"

There was a silence and then a much smaller flame, red in color, was revealed.

"The flame is too weak to join us," Even as they said it, the red flame faded into darkness, "It will take centuries to recover its power, if it ever recovers at all." There was a sense of sadness behind the words, as though the flames deeply cared for one another.

"Is there a way to fix that flame faster?" Cierra asked, wanting to restore it to its full glory.

The flames seemed to hesitate before answering.

"If you were to renew the tear with Freya's power, possibly," The flames paused, "But, Freya cannot be freed by you now. You need to be trained, and you need comrades."

Cierra nodded, disappointed. "And what about you four? Are you able to…" Cierra was at a loss on how to ask if they could help in battle, "Fight?" She finished, feeling as though it was not the right word.

"We cannot fight, but we can provide support." The flames continued, "We are made from the hope of Freya to find her lost lover. Therefore, we can grant you wishes, small things like this," The background changed back to the crab people, "Which may prove useful in combat. And perhaps we could aid you in consult, but we cannot physically stand with you in battle."

Cierra held in a sigh, Freya's tears were more than what she had expected, and yet somehow less.

"We are sorry to disappoint you," Cierra felt even more guilty knowing they knew how she felt, "But we will try our best, even if it means simply offering you an escape."

Cierra thought back on what they said about offering consult, and asking, "Do you happen to know if there are more people like me? The Fólkvangr warriors mentioned Freya knew someone like me. An apostle of Frigg? Maybe you know who might have blessed me with this power?"

The flames flickered low, "We have never known another being quite like you, but we can tell that you are not an apostle, like the Fólkvangr suggested. You are similar yet not."

"Do you know how I can find out?" Cierra asked, disappointed yet again.

"Ask a Watcher," The flames answered, "They are one of the oldest beings, but be careful," they cautioned, "They are dogs to an unequaled master."