We lay down with our rolls as close to the fire as we could, watching the oily smoke and red cinders fly up into a vast and clear sky, leaving a dark blot before the god’s road, Bifrost.
I had never seen the heavens like this before, where there were no trees or hills to shield us. It stretched from the Jotunheimar in the east to misty waters in the west with no break but our feeble fire. We were small and exposed babes before a cold and terrible giant.
For the first time, I truly realized that I could never return home. Gone foverer was the safety of Fainnvidh’s old willows and trickling streams. I fear I would have fled down the crest, had shame not stayed me. I knew Thor had none of the thoughts. I think he knew no fear.
“When the gods and the dwarf-smiths first placed the stars and the heavenly vault in the sky, all was still. Giants and trolls ruled Midgardh back then, for Odhinn and his brothers had not yet come to breathe life into Askr and Embla and create the race of man. The nine worlds were filled with chaos, much worse than the nights we know. There were no seasons, there was no day nor night, just savage wights devouring one another.
“Tyr, who ruled the Aesir before Odhinn, sought to create order in the nine worlds, like they knew in Asgardh and Vanaheim. He bid gods to rule the sky, the earth, and even the wild seas. He sent the old gods Dag and Nott to divide the day from night and had the alf-smiths forge the chariots and sky roads that would carry the Sun and Moon high above.
“The tale says that Tyr’s wife was of the Vanir, though her name is now forgotten. He had accomplished so much with the help of the joined resolve of the Aesir, the Vanir, the alfar, and the dvergar – as the dwarfs were known back then – but he was not satisfied, for though time and the world had been meted out, Midgardh was still a dangerous and terrible place, and even the gods dared not wander out of their realms without an army behind them.
“One night, Tyr was thinking on his troubles while his wife was spinning. He sat in silence watching the spinning of her distaff all night until the idea came to him. He ran off and woke the wisest of the dwarf- and alf-smiths and bade them construct a great pillar, hight the Irminsul. It stands as tall as the world tree itself and was placed in the heart of a wood somewhere in the realm now known as Svidhjod.
“Then Tyr sent the heavens slowly spinning on the Irminsul’s spear-like head, just as it does tonight. It was such a terrible sight to behold that the Jotunn and the Thursir, the troubled dead and the evil spirits, the dokkalfar and the svartalfar, and all wights not friendly to the gods fled from the wide open spaces into the shadow-filled caves and forests. That is why evil lurks in the dark corners of the world.”
I stopped and stared into the sky, oddly comforted by the tale, remembering that the heavens were created by the gods of order and justice to make Midgardh safe. I tried not to think of how many tales I’ve heard of wights fell and unknown slipping out from the shadows into the world and hearts of men over the last few winters. I was doing well before Thor, who I thought was either asleep or ignoring me, spoke a few moments later. His voice was as cold and unfeeling as the night sky.
“Not all evil,” was all he said.
I did not go to sleep for a long time.
I’ll try to keep to update these excerpts periodically as I make my way through the novel.
