Apotheosis (1/2)
The little Yiirkin looks up nervously at Haalfrin and says, "You become famous in the Divine Realms after you die and your soul into an Arkin… that's why I couldn't recognize you."
Indeed, Just as Drakin have powerful bodies and Yiirkin have fates, Arkin have powerful souls. Unlike the other races, which depend lineages to expand their race, anyone can technically become an Arkin – so long as you've died before, and so long as the Universe deems you Significant.
"So…," Haalfrin asks calmly, "why am I famous?"
Rinedahk looks down with a complicated gaze – no doubt trying to figure out how to answer that question without revealing too much about the future. At last, the little man answers, "Legends say that for 1,000 years, a new god ran amok in the Divine Realms. He was such a powerful summoner that he was able to call any god to fight for him. It was… really chaotic with powerful gods, kings, and warriors randomly disappearing and appearing in ridiculous hordes."
"Then…," the Yiirkin finishes, "after 1,000 years, this Warrior god vanished. Legends say that he found a secluded place in the Death Realm and founded a place called 'The Hall of Valor." He never went to battle people anymore. Instead, he dedicated the rest of his afterlife to gathering the greatest talents with his summoning and training all the greatest warriors of the Death Realm."
The little Yiirkin looks up wistfully, "They say that when Freyya picks up the souls of the fallen that she'll only take the souls of the worthy to the Hall of Valor. It became every warrior's dream to be taken there."
"Oh…?" Haalfrin smiles, "What kind of chaos will I cause in the future?" As for any questions about the training hall he'll found in the future, he's already seen it in his Fel Name anyway; what else is there to ask about that?
Master Rinedahk looks down with a troubled face after hearing Haalfrin's next question.
"Haha!" Haalfirn laughs lightheartedly, "I won't make things too difficult for you. Just forget about that last question."
He may be curious about the future… but it's not that important to know, now that he thinks about it; it's always better to just deal with things when they come. Besides, the little Yiirkin made it sound like HE was the problem in the future, so there's nothing to worry about, right? That's other people's problem.
"…On second thought," Haalfrin thinks, "if I cause trouble in the divine realms in the future, I wouldn't do it without a good reason; since there's a good reason for my actions, then there's no point in fretting over it; I'll do it either way."
And thus, Haalfrin nodded his head and let this "Master Rinedahk" off the hook.
The Yiirkin, on the other hand, is under the impression that Haalfrin left him alone out of the goodness of his heart…
"… By the way…," Haalfrin asks, "how did you know to show up on exactly this day? I thought gods like to keep the details of their life private as a safeguard from unfriendly people scrying their Fates?"
"Freyya asked me to pick up her younger self," the dwarf shrugs helplessly.
"Uh, not surprised." With that, Haalfrin stands up and goes back to his companions.
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Only 2 hours later, it finally nears midnight. Five minutes before the night is at its darkest, all the torches are dimmed, and an eerie silver glow lights up the fighter ring.
The Crow Elders had already discussed this with Haalfrin beforehand, so the man knows to get up at midnight and head to the center of the ring.
Under everyone's silent gaze, he unlatches the stone bottle from his waist and sets it down. "Are you sure you want to do this, Frey?" Haalfrin asks through their spiritual link. "This is your last chance to reject your people's worship."
The bottle remains still.
"Very well," Haalfrin mumbles.
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Jay, Faylin, and Resburn are all watching from the side as their decades long companion takes the stone bottle out from his waist and set it on the ground.
What's so special about the bottle?" Faylin whispers to Jay. "We all saw him carry that thing around ever since we knew him, but he never let us touch it."
"Yeah," Resburn leans in and whispers, "I've only ever seen it off his waist when he's bathing; even then, it's usually in his hands."
Jay crosses his arms and whispers, "I've never asked him about his personal belongings, since I've learned by now that if something were important to the missions, he'd have spoken up; since he kept quiet about the bottle, that means it's private. Stop wondering about it."
In Jay's mind, it's evident that the bottle has something to do with the Crow goddess; why else would he bring it out now?
None of the humans get to wonder long. It's only a few moments after the bottle's lid is removed for a black Aura to seep out…
…And from the growing Aura emerges the form of a young, brown skinned woman with darker than black hair. Something about this girl's face is familiar…
It's only after Frey shyly turns to the 3 seated humans and waves softly does Jay remember her. "F###! That's the girl who broke us out of Fheldin's dungeon!"
Resburn realized this too, and if his anatomy had allowed it, his jaw would've dropped to the floor already.
Faylin, on the other hand, is just confused, then a little agitated after Jay hisses. "There's been a person on his waist this whole time!!??"
"Shh!" Resburn hisses at the two of them. "The Crows are looking at us unfriendly-like! Just shut up already!"
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While the 3 humans are freaking out after seeing Frey emerge from Haalfrin's coveted bottle, the girl in question is staring at the floor and trying her hardest to ignore the hundreds of eyes that are fixed on her.
Not wanting to speak aloud in front of so many people, Frey spiritually speaks to Haalfrin, "Ok… I'll be needing your help with a ritual to complete my transformation into the Crow goddess."
"…Oh?" Haalfrin spiritually asks back, "You never mentioned my part in the ritual before? What can I do to help? Or rather, why would I be the one required for this?"
Frey shuffles her feet uncomfortably and stares even harder at the ground, "I… I talked with Freyya – my older self – along some years ago. She said that because we've shared our Yiir Names together that we're able to especially meddle in the important evets in each other's lives…"
"Yes…," he asks again, "but why didn't you tell me before? I could've prepared for it."
"I… I knew you wouldn't like it…," she fumbles. Without speaking another word, she materializes two spears from the Death Aura (as she had learned how to store objects in the Aura as well over these decades of practice), and she hands one to Haalfrin. "These are two replicas of the Crow goddess's spear. We need to use them for the ritual."
"Use the spears?" Haalfrin squints. "I mean, we're also in a fighting ring. So… I assume we have to… fight each other?"
"Hmm…," she nods. "To the death."
The sword in Haalfrin's hand clatters to the ground, and he actually shouts, "You can't be serious!? There's no way I'm doing that to you!"
Numbly, Frey bends down and picks up the spear. "Take it!" she speaks softly, but firmly, "I'm prepared for this!"
"No!" Haalfrin shouts as he snatches the spear from her hands and throws it to the ground again. "I'm NOT going to kill you!"
"HAALFRIN!" she screams in his mind. "I thought you were the more rational one of us? You know just as well as I that the Reaper of defeated warriors must have fallen in battle herself! Trust me! I may die here, but we'll see each other again!"
When she screamed at him, Haalfrin would have thought she was angry… except because they're communicating spiritually, it would be impossible for him to misunderstand her this way; speaking with your spirits exposes your heart / feelings to each other, so he knows exactly what kind of chaotic emotions she's feeling.
Instead of anger and frustration, some deep part of her is grateful that the man she loves is unwilling to personally try to kill her. Another part of her finds this whole situation uncomfortable and just wants to get it over with.
Realizing that Frey isn't afraid at all, he calms down and slowly picks the spear up. "Tell me one last thing, Frey," he asks, "I've noticed that the enchantments on the ring's floor cancels out magic. Any sod here with more fighting experience than you can kill you here, so you don't actually need me here. Why does it have to be me?"
Frey's eyes flicker as she gets into a battle stance. "You're right, Haalfrin. Neither of us can use our Names or spells so long as we're in this ring; we're both just mortals in this space. You're right that any warrior could carry out the ritual and kill me… so why you?"
She breathes in deeply and says, "I… Freyya told me that if I'm ever to claim your soul that YOU have to be the one to kill me in my ascension to a Death god. I don't really get it, but she said something about a Mantling Ritual."
With sword in hand, Haalfrin stares at the ground with a deeply troubled and unwilling look on his face. "Hurry up, hubby," Frey whispers as her muscles tense up in anticipation of the fight, "The darkest hour won't last forever. Come fight me!"