Lyre River - Northeastern Nornlands - Amunarr

2,728th Passing of the Ehwan Calendar

Solar Year 558,153 A.D.

Three long shadows drew out from the warmth of the summer campfire. The flames danced with each soft crackle as the logs were slowly turning to cinder and ash. The fire was low, and the aroma of spice and roast fish it gave off would make any mouth water. A hearty belt of laughter cracked the quiet night, carried off from the older man, easily 40 passings on by the looks of him.

The youngest of the group, Suntear, peered up at the sky listening to his brother and father compare the size of their catch for the day. Starlight glittered overhead catching the boy's eye, they spread out like a myriad of distant campfires painted across a black valley. No army of men could ever light so many fires. Only the Giants could do such work, at least that's what the boy thought to himself as he peered up and wondered.

Suntear’s older brother sat beside him sharing the log. He was well into his fourth fish of the night. By the ridge of their noses and the curve of their thick chins you would rightly assume the older man sitting at the campfire to be their father, Kynleiger. 

If the shape of their faces were from their father surely their hair must’ve been from their mother. All black as night and thick and straight, knots were braided in the back as was the tradition of their village of Holden. Kynleiger's hair ran wild, all scraggly mats and even a twig or leaf found its way into it from time to time. His braid was long and intricate, beads of all kinds glittered among the braids. 

His pale skin was covered with intricate black lines, indelibly etched symbols and complex geometric patterns. A visible mark for all to see, a sign of his power, they shone out even with his summer tanned skin. They were his channels, the tattoos given to those who could wield the godsflower sap. Every now and then a small golden light would zip down his arm, up his leg, or round a looped pattern on his neck, always following the black tattoos like a wheel in it's rut.

Kynleigher had named his youngest boy, Suntear. The name was chosen very carefully. A shaman of the Vanieric Gods, well versed in the channeled magics of the world, as well as the greater powers of the runes, he knew that names had a power all their own. So Kynleiger had chosen the name of Surtr, after the fire giant who guarded Muspelheim with his sword of flame. The fire giant who was prophesied to one day end the world when Ragnarok came and Fenris consumed the All-father and his children. 

Kynleiger always believed the end would be a sad day. So Sun-tear seemed to fit, and his wife was delighted with the playful turning of the name. So when his naming day came, Suntear was named so, before the Gods by their rites, done by the Men of the village. 

He seemed an ordinary boy to anyone from the outer Nordlands of Amidgard. His black hair was shaved on the sides, the top was braided with hand carved runic beads, some wood, others bone. He wore homemade clothes made by his mother's hand, patched up in places, a fresh rip visible on his sleeve. He was sure to catch trouble over that rip when he got home. The boy was rarely ever seen without an eager grin on his face. He wore it now as he wondered up at the stars. He seemed nothing special to any passerby, just another Norn Boy.

Fat hissed in the fire as it fell dripping from the large fish skewered over the embers. Suntear's older brother Kifen licked his fingers eyeing the sizzling fish. Kifen had hit a growth spurt in the last season. Sleeping long hours and eating as much as he could. He'd grown nearly a hand taller and Kynleiger would mentioned it proudly, often, to anyone with ears to hear. Especially when Master Pewter was around. Master Pewter's daughter was about the same age as Kifen and Suntear had already wondered if his father meant for them to take on the soul binding someday.

Kifen pulled the skewer off the fire and sucked through his teeth as he tried prying the steaming meat apart with his thumbs. Suntear smiled, glancing at his father for the third time now. He wrung his hands again, and sat up trying hard at patience as only a young boy can. But he knew his father would begin in his own time, no asking from Suntear would speed the nights stories along.

His father wore multiple necklaces, each made to honor and remember one or more of the Gods he spoke for when they called to him to do so. Suntear had seen the Gods call happen just once. A summer night like this one, he'd seen his father smoking from the pipe he kept in the Shamanhut. Getting closer he heard his father whispering. Saw him draw the knife on his belt then plunge it into a rabbit. 

Suntear mostly remembered the blood and the light, the rest was a blur. Blood running down the wooden handle of the dagger. A handle carved to look like the expanding world tree, the all-father hanging from its branches at the pommel, his head tilted down toward the blue glowing runes carved into the metal blade.

His deep amber eyes had shone like the Sun. Turned white and gold, no pupils were there but Suntear had felt his father peering into him. The light shining out of his mouth as he cried the words. "You must not be here!"

Suntear shook his head, he hadn't thought of that day for quite some time. He'd been told to never go into the Shamanhut. To not tread in realms beyond his understanding. He was a curious boy, it often cost him dearly, and taught him nearly too much.

Kifen was the eldest son, blessed at birth to take his fathers place and take on the Shamanic mantle. He was licking his fingers clean again, the fish bone pile at his feet having grown again. His eyes were quiet and cool, cheerful at the edges due to his satisfied belly. This was his 8th year out in the Summer river walk. The woods and this river they fished were like a second home to him. He took great comfort seeing his father across the fire. He trusted his father almost as deeply as he loved him. He would often hang on the man's words on just the hope of gleaning passing wisdom from his Patriarch and Shaman. He's old enough to have stood round the men's bond fire, braided his own hair, and even chosen a few beads to be woven into his hair himself. His hair was just as black as his brothers but the greater honor was his being the elder brother who'd already begun the rites of passage into manhood.

All three sat round the fire picking the last bits of the hot oily meat off the bones of their catches. The blazing starlights hung quietly in the sky, vast and bright constellations known well by their tribe, named and given form by the stories of their ancestors, ancestors who had long ago become legends to their people.

Kynleiger wiped his beard and shifted in his seat before cleaning his oily hands on his hand-stitched. Kifen was already digging into another fish, a pile of bones growing at his feet. Suntear kept eating, slowly, patiently waiting, still watching his father. 

Their father cleared his throat, and Suntear's smile widened. Even Kifen looked up from his fish to smile. Kynleiger pulled his dirty blonde top braid round his shoulder, runic beads were woven through it, some glinted in the firelight. These were different from the beads that were woven into his beard. Forged from metal, they clinked together with a ringing tone, nothing like the dull thuds of the bone and wooden beads.

Suntear had asked his father what the different beads meant when he was younger. He'd lost interest when his father started on about their family lineage and who inherited the beads from whom and what Gods or Heros they called upon. He remembered that his great grandfather had forged one himself with the blood of a boar he'd sacrificed or something like that. It was of little interest to Suntear, who like most boys tired easily from words of old men.

He knew these though, almost intimately. The story beads of brass, iron, copper, and gold. Each with a rune for a God, each with a story to tell. From the slaying of the Giants, to the prophecy of Ragnarok, they all rested in their fathers graying woven braids.

Suntear didn’t particularly favor fishing either. The quiet hours spent listening to birds and watching insects over the water were fine things for old men who hunted for moments of boredom like a fox hunting for loose chickens. But for a boy who longed to see the world Odin had shaped. A boy who wished to understand the wider mysteries of the world. For a boy like Suntear, it was torture. The only part of their fishing trip Suntear looked forward to was when the beads were brought out, when the ancient stories were told.

"So what will it be tonight then? We had Loki’s duel with Surtur yesterday, and Thor’s meeting the Dokkalfar.” His father said, gesturing at different beads as he spoke. Suntear leaned forward on the driftwood log looking intently at the glowing beads. Kynleiger smiled wide, looking between his two sons.

Suntear stuffed the last bit of fish in his mouth, placing the roasting stick on the ground. His Father stoked the red coals then tossed another log on the fire. Sparks and smoke kicked free from the embers. The flame awakened, kissing the log until it was engulfed in the rekindling blaze.

“So what story would you like to hear about tonight? How Tyr lost his hand? How the Ivaldi Brothers crafted Mjolnyr?” his fathers smile widened with every word, for with every word he watched Suntear squirm, his excited smile growing.

“I wanna hear about how Odin and his brothers created Amidgard!” Suntear blurted, the last of the fish still in his mouth.

“Ah yes, The creation.” his father suffered through the beads, finding a golden one that he rolled in his fingers. He began to watch the fire, it danced in his eyes, like the fire and the shaman played a song together.

Then he spoke.

Before time there was nothing. No world, no sun, nothing. There was Muspellheim, the land of fire and light. A place where only those born into it can dwell. Almost as old as Muspell itself was Surtur, the Fire Giant who guards the realm of light with a flaming sword. Still to this very day he marches around the edges of Muspell. The light from his sword can be seen as it reflects off Ymir's skull, each day Sol's light marches across the sky giving us day and night. 

Beyond Muspell was the yawning void, the great Gap between all things. Beyond the Gap was Nifelheim, the land of cold rain and ice. In the great Gap Ice and Fire met and droplets of water began to form from their union. They dropped slowly and formed the Ice Giant Yimir, father of all the frost giants. Yimir's first moments of life were in a fever dream, a dream of something new, not like the dreams of men. Not dreams of what we have done in the day. These were dreams of what could yet be, dreams of the future. From the dream sweat of his legs was born a son, and from the dream sweat of his arms was born a daughter, and these were the first of the frost giants. All formed from the fever dreams of what could be.

Birthed from the thawing ice that formed across the Yawing Gap came the eternal cow named Audhumla. She is still larger than any human mind could hold and even larger still. From her teets flowed four rivers that passed into the four lands. One of the rivers of flowing milk fed Yimir his Frost Giant offspring.

Audhumla sustained herself by licking the salty blocks of ice that had formed from the drops of ice and heat. These she used for food. In one day of licking a tuft of hair was released from an ice lock. On the second she freed the head of a man. On the third day the whole man was freed from the block of ice. His name was Buri, most handsome and strong. As with Yimir Buri too slipped into a fever dream. From the dream sweat of Buri was born his son, Bor, who married the daughter of the Giant Yimir, Bestla.

Bor and Bestla fed on the rivers of Adhumla and built a home where they bore three sons. Their First son was Odin, their second was Vili, their third was Ve. Odin the oldest and wisest became the ruler of the heavens and the earth, the First of the Gods.

The three brothers dreamed like their ancestors before them. They dreamed of what could be. They dreamed of humans, of life, of trees, of hunting, of war, of little children, and beautiful women. They knew none of this could be so long as Yimir kept them in the eternal Yawning gap, so they banded together to slay their grandfather. For they knew his sacrifice was needed for the world of their dreams to be born. From the shards of Ice they crafted swords and the brothers crept upon Yimir as he slept and with a mighty blow Odin slew the first of the frost giants. 

From Yimir issued a torrent of blood that drowned nearly all. Only two of the frost Giants survived, Bergelmere and his Wife. They escaped by riding the torrent of blood ina wooden box out to the edges of the sea as the flood washed away their family. From the two survivors all the families of Frost Giants that live are descended. 

The blood of Yimir poured for 40 days and nights, it poured so much that it began to fill the Yawning gap and made the salt sea beneath all things.

Odin, Vili, and Ve took the corpse of Yimir. From his body the brothers shaped the world we live in, the world of Amidgard. 

From his bones they made the mountains. From his teeth and broken bones they made the stones and pebbles. From his flesh they made the earth that feeds our crops. From his blood they made the endless wells that give us water. From his hair they made the trees of the forests. 

Maggots began to grow and thrive in the remains of Yimir and Odin shaped them into the Dwarves and gave them the intelligence of man.

From his Skull the brothers carved and shaped the sky.

Under the four corners of the sky the brothers placed four dwarves Nord, Sount, Esten, and Vesten. To this day they still hold up the sky and denote the 4 cardinal directions of our world. 

The three brothers took the fires of Nifelheim and placed them in the skull of Yimir. They used the fires to make the stars of the sky, that is why men can use them to guide themselves when the fire of day has left.

Surtr, the fire Giant that guards Nifelheim created the light of the Sun which Sol carries back and forth across the sky on a wager he lost to Loki.

Once the world had been made Odin Vili and Ve still hadn't carried out their dreams. The world was vast beautiful and surrounded by the Yawning Gap, but there was no living person to enjoy their creation and dwell within it.

Walking the beach with his brothers talking of how they wished there were humans to partake in their world Odin happened upon some driftwood of Elm and Ash wood.

From the Elm wood he carved eyes, mouth, head, and heart making Embla, the first woman.

From the Ash wood he carved eyes, mouth, head, and heart making Ask, the first man.

Odin married them and gave them the knowledge of building, cooking, hunting, and listening to the dwarves and elves for guidance.

They were the first humans, the first to marry, and from them all humans of Amidgard owe loving thanks.

"And that, my sons, is how Odin and his brothers made the world." Suntears father smiled warmly as Suntear began asking questions as was the custom of a young boy seeking the wisdom of his ancestors.

"Why didn't Odin give us dreams like the Gods have?" Suntear asked. 

"Well obviously Odin doesn't wish us to be greater than the Gods, our place is beneath them, not as dreamers beside them." His father said with airy wisdom.

"Do you think Yimir knew he had to die to make Amidgard?" Suntear asked.

"I don't know, you will have to ask Mimir that question if you ever happen upon the well at Yggdrasil's roots. But maybe Odin kept us from dreams of the new so that we wouldn't slay him as he slew Yimir for his own dream." His father said scratching his beard pensively.

"What was the wager Sol lost to Loki? How did they steal Surtrs flame in the first place?" Suntear asked.

"Those sound like stories for another time." His father said chuckling. "Come now its time to sleep, we make our way back home at first light. Goodnight my little warriors.

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