Babels of Bedlam - Part 8

(A/N: Hi friends - hope you're enjoying this little saga so far! This is a bit of an information dump - if it gets confusing, shoot your questions in the comments and I'll be sure to clarify!

~ Higgins)

The dark of the night had finally set in as Al found his way out of the pub, more than a bit perturbed. He had only gone there to scout out Erik, and then that Owen kid came out of nowhere. He snuck right up behind Al, blindsided him.

This particular neighborhood was overseen by an old etin named Snorri. He housed a few of his own kind and kept the peace between them and mann – and he had been doing a damn good job for more than a century now. Still, whenever new etinar came to town, like Erik had, Al still preferred to assess the threat himself, and it was a damn good thing he had.

Despite what Stan thought, Erik was one to keep a close watch on; compared to the other etinar who lived in the area, his blood was much more potent, which meant he might be more of a loose cannon. That, of course, meant more work for Al.

Etinar had been coming and going out of Midgardr since the very beginning, but it had been only recently that they’ve been staying, which was a nuisance to Al, who had vowed many years ago to protect the realm of mann.

Snorri had immigrated to the realm some centuries ago, but he was born in the northern ice mountains of their home realm, Jotunheimr. That meant that Snorri’s blood was what was loosely referred to as 'strong' or 'potent' – just like Erik’s. The vitality of etinar – properly referred to as jotnar, though the former was used much more freely by both races – relied heavily upon the proximity at which they were born in reference to Jotunheimr. For example, if an etin had parents that were born in Jotunheimr, but said etin wasn’t, they would be what Al would consider a first generation etin, and, because of that, the strength of their vitality and their blood was lessened.

And granted, strength or potency was an odd way to refer to blood as, but the term was taught to him by an old friend who was much more learned on the subject than he. This friend explained that unlike mann, etinar were spirits of the land. Their liveliness, their strengths, were absorbed from the energy of land from which they hailed, creating an eternal tie to their realm, Jotunheimr. Thus, when an etin was born away from the land that they descended from, they could only absorb so much of that energy, that liveliness, deluding the potency and resulting in a weak creature.

In that vein, the more potent the blood of an etin, the easier it was to sense them, for other etin and Al alike. That was why he was so disconcerted when he caught sight of Owen. The rider was almost positive the kid wasn’t there when Al entered the bar but nor did he sense a change in atmosphere when he walked in.

And yes, the rider’s attention was focused on Erik, but the way Al’s stomach dropped when he caught sight of Owen was a surefire sign that Al should’ve sensed him.

And then, on top of it, Erik noticed him too, and was evidently intrigued enough to go over and speak with him directly.

Was it possible that Vin actually did send him? Maybe, but Al wasn’t ready to take that chance, especially not with that particular kid.

And anyway, where would Vin find an etin that was actually willing to help them? The jotnar wanted the sword pieces for themselves - why help the enemy?

Not to mention, there was Stig – the Faceless Thief, as he was coined. Al had never actually seen that particular jotunn, but it had been confirmed that he already possessed three of the nine pieces. There wasn’t much more known about him, making him even more dangerous. He didn’t know what Stig was capable of and he doubted very much that sending in an infiltrator like Owen would be beyond him.

But then again, Al would need the help of a jotunn eventually. The rider possessed three of the pieces, leaving only three more to be found, one of which was deep in the bowels of Muspelheimr, a realm separate from Jotunheimr but still infested with some of the most dangerous jotnar that lived.

Al wondered how much time he had left. With Stig, collecting the sword shards was something of a race, and from this stretch on, Al was at a disadvantage. Muspelheimr wasn’t to be entered by mann, Helheimr - the realm of the dead - wasn’t to be entered by the living, and Asgardr...

Al sighed. Vin should’ve had the shard from Asgardr under control, but not everything goes as planned. Vin found the shard, but, as he explained it, it was just out of arm's reach. It had fallen into a cave on the outskirts of the realm, a cave inhabited by a beast that wasn’t to be trifled with, a beast not even Vin would confront.

The rider’s options were running dry and his time, running out.