The Rememberer

The giant head opened its white eyes and pierced into her soul. She felt chills run along her spine. Mimir observed her for a while, judging her soul and past, every decision she made and everything she said. All her thoughts and deeds. She didn't dare move an inch, her muscles tense as if she was expecting a blow from a bodyless head.

"You have good intentions," he finally said in a loud, strong voice, "you may take the blade if you wish to do so or you may seek wisdom. Anything else, I am afraid, I cannot offer."

The cave resonated with the sound of his voice and it awoke the flowers and vines on the walls from their slumber. They shone a gentle, silver light. Almost like moonlight. Yrsa was sure they were poisonous. In fact, she recognised them. Lily of the valley. She remembered once a child who ate it. A small, kind little girl. It was a painful death.

"It wasn't real, was it?" she asked, suddenly aware of the horrible illusion. She understood the stories that the elves told her now.

"No, but now that it is known, even just by you, the well must move once again, but do not worry. You have a little time before it does," he added.

Yrsa sighed with relief. This meant that Skadi was alive and well, but also that Hel was somewhere out there, battling her own illusion. It was only a matter of time before she escaped it and realised the truth.

"The sword... can it kill her? ", she asked, taking the blade in her hands. It felt as light as a feather but it was incredibly sharp. Only Gods could feel it, and perhaps some Seers, but the blade emitted great power.

"If by kill you mean banish to Helheim and bind to that horrid place then yes, it can kill her, but you must be careful. If it ever falls into her hands, even for a moment, the Nine Realms are doomed," he replied. Even the Wise One was scared of the power that sword possessed in the hands of Death. It had a will of its own when left without someone to carry it. It was as much a burden as it was a blessing.

"Just one more question before I go," Yrsa asked, sheathing the blade, "when it comes to it... when the three harbingers come to warn us and the fire jötnar raise their swords, is there anything that can stop them? Is there anything that can stop Ragnarök?"

Mimir closed his eyes and a tear fell into the red water surrounding his head. Yrsa came closer and looked at the images unfolding on the surface. She could see the universe before it was like this - a beautiful symphony of light and darkness flowing together. The giant began speaking.

"This sword you have taken has incredible power on its own - that you know - but there is one thing you don't know. This sword, called Helatla, was forged from the remains of Forlǫgslá, the Forger of Destiny. It was the hammer that created the universe, but it was shattered upon its creation and divided into three pieces that spread across the stars. You need only two. One you have in your hand, the other is somewhere in the Nine Realms. You must bring the two pieces together in the flames of Muspelheim. What becomes of it can help you but you must know that Ragnarök is a prophecy and fate is a hard thing to change," the giant finished.

The walls started shaking and Yrsa took it as a sign to leave. She thanked the Wise One and followed the path where she came from. When she passed through a portal of light, she appeared in the forest, which now looked very different. It was bright and rich with flowers and huge oak trees, all kinds of wildlife that lived under the illusion for years, without disturbance. She saw a white deer with huge silver antlers dash between the trees.

The illusion was gone but that meant that Hel was somewhere out there, enraged and looking for the sword. If it carried such power, surely she could feel it. It was only a matter of time before she found her.

Yrsa unsheathed the Helatla and used its magic to hide in the shadows. She listened for every sound, every crack or snap that sounded off. Hel wasn't as careless as she thought because it was her who surprised Yrsa, blasting her with dark magic and revealing her.

"Did you really think I wouldn't recognise this trick? I used it myself once. It is my sword after all... Let's skip the formalities and get this over with, "Hel growled and slipped two daggers out of thin air.

"That's fine by me," Yrsa whispered behind her and gracefully slid the sword through her back, right through her heart, killing her. Hel fell to the ground and black mist appeared around her, rotten hands dragging her straight to Helheim. She was bound to her realm now, at least until the Twilight of the Gods. The illusion Yrsa created to distract Hel disappeared and she retrieved her sword.

Just as she felt relief wash over her, she remembered the threat worse than Hel herself. A voice resonated in her mind, a voice she knew all too well now, and whispered: "destiny awaits you in Niðavellir." That was the last she would hear from Mimir.

For now.