Ejla dómsta | chapter 1
I always wondered what life would be like without the sun. That cool white glow, beating down between the trees – It never fell, never faded. Constant. Isn't that strange? To look at the one thing that is so constant in your life, and think about it's death.
I have never found it strange. But as I grew, those thoughts – the thoughts of the sun fading away – disappeared. He always told me that it was impossible, anyway, and I know he was right. Snorri was always right. As a child, I used to hold my breath and wait for the day he'd be proven wrong. But that day never came – and, looking back, I see now that was merely childish innocence obscuring my sight. But, still, to say I wish he was never proven wrong...
There is a plague.
The hood of her cloak is pulled up, covering her flaxen locks and looming shadows over her eyes. That's what she needs, what she wants – To be, for a moment, unnoticeable. As soon as one saw her eyes, they'd know she was different; They'd know who she was. That had it's perks, at times, but drawbacks as well. Unfortunately, trying to seem inconspicuous – that, in itself, was near impossible.
Violet and blue – two colours similar in hue, and yet so distinct in meaning. At least, for the Rýkilla - The beings of Rýnstanja - it created great division. The blue eyed folk, and the violet eyed folk; Only two beings of violet could exist at any one time. So Anniken knew, as she pulled down her hood, stared into the stream's depths and found violet hues returning her gaze, that she would definitely stand out. After all, she was the only being of violet in this world – the other, Snorri, had already ascended.
Still, one cannot live in fear of being seen as different. She tugs the hood back up, allowing a sigh to slip from thin lips. If only – If only she could be like them. The blue-eyed folk populated this world; They were beings who lead simple lives; they had no worries, no duties to the land.
The people – blue eyed. The Gods – Violet eyed.
It frightened her, and she turned from the stream with such haste. She didn't wish to be a God. She didn't wish to be this way – forced to bear the burdens of the land, and protect all within it. Wasn't that the duty of the Guardians? Yes – and yet she found herself doubting her ability. Her ancestors would be ashamed.
She didn't wish to be a God, nor a Guardian – She wanted to be carefree; as carefree as possible, anyway. But now, the looming presence of something sinister weighed her down, making it clear that to run was not an option.
Her footsteps were short and sharp, punctuated by the crunch of decaying leaves, as she strode away from the stream. The walk itself was – thankfully – uneventful; Anniken needed to get there fast, and she knew if the townsfolk caught wind that their Guardian was nearby, surely they'd be asking questions. Questions which Anniken couldn't answer.
Questions which would haunt her.
Slowly, the door of the shack creaked open, and all heads turned towards the hooded being. The smell of illness was heavy and thick; The risk of contagion was so probable that nobody had taken any measures to prevent it. On one side of the bed, sat her brother; On the other, sat her mother and younger sister. While, in the bed, lay a girl so pale Anniken wasn't sure if she remained alive, or had passed.
A shuddering breath escaped the ailing girl, and Anniken shut the door as she stepped inside. The eyes of her family did not stray from the Guardian; They knew she was coming, it seemed.
"Íma," Anniken spoke quietly as she tugged the hood of her cloak down to rest around her shoulders. "How is she?"
"Deteriorating," The male replied from the far side of the bed, as he reached a hand out to stroke back his sister's hair before standing. "Let's speak outside."
Once the door of the shack had been shut behind them, Íma allowed a sigh to breeze past his lips. He looked worn and shaken; heavy circles hung under his eyes, and his brown hair lay flat and limp against his head. Clearly, he had not slept for days.
"Her cough is getting worse. The breathing issues set in two days ago, and – we called the town's physician. But he refused to come, for fear of it catching."
A glance was spared through the window, and Anniken couldn't help but notice the look of sadness overcoming Íma's expression. He looked so broken, so devastated – It was only a matter of time until it hit this town, yet everyone hoped it wouldn't, against the odds.
"Can't you do anything?"
"There is nothing I can do. I'm powerless."
Íma bit his lip, and Anniken watched as his expression curled into a bitter sadness. Tears began to form in his eyes, though all she could do was lay a hand on his shoulder.
"Be with her. We don't know what is going to happen."
A nod, tearful and stiff, and the boy let himself back into the shack. His place was resumed by his sister, and Anniken pulled the hood of her cloak up, hoping desperately – For the sake of her friend – That the girl would pull through.
Hope, against the odds, was better than nothing.
Anniken stared back towards the way she came; she longed to hide. It wasn't an option – everyone depended on her, and it was the duty of the Guardians to protect these people – But the urge to hide, to avoid it all, remained. She wished Snorri was here. He always seemed to know the answer – even if he ascended without finding a cure for this plague. That was the only thing he didn't have the answer to, but nobody blamed him. After all, he was only one of many.
Sighing, Anniken cast one glance more through the window; Íma and his mother were speaking in hushed tones as he stroked back the hair of the ailing girl. They spared a glance towards her, blue hues longing for some assistance – but there was none to be offered. Anniken took her leave without another word.
She pulled her cloak a little closer to keep herself covered and her eyes flickered along the path indented into the grass by footsteps before her own. It was well worn, she noted, as she stepped off the bank of grass, back onto the main path. Said path led from one end of the land to the other, and yet nobody dared to cross it – It was so huge, so vast and long that one would surely run out of food before managing to cross it. Tales told of those that had tried, and had never returned – It put off most from going too far from the main town, which lay at the path's southernmost peak. That was a good thing; They didn't need more people dying.
The crunch of leaves under her feet was what brought her away from her thoughts- reverie broken, she began the trek towards the town. The main path was lined on either side by tall, looming trees and between them, the sky was a bright, harsh white. Anniken took a moment to halt, before tilting her head upwards. The sound of sweeping grass was now audible that her own footsteps had stopped, and she found herself glancing towards the brush, only to find a young girl with striking blue eyes peering back at her. Anniken only had to offer the Kóssur a single glance before she recoiled, and she watched from the periphery of her sight as the young girl ran back towards the brush. For a moment, they simply stared at one another from that distance - until the young girl slunk away, around the bank, and into the surrounding shrubs. Yet only a moment later, she reappeared.
Held in her dark hand was that of her grandmother, who was led up the river bank and stood before Anniken. The young girl recoiled to stand by the bank again, while the old Rýkillur remained. Before Anniken could speak a word, the woman knelt, pressing her palms into the earth and bowing her head.
"You are Anniken, yes?" "Yes, kílla." "I knew Snorri when he ruled." "And I, through him?" "Yes, íshka."
A pause, allowing the silence to still the air before Anniken's hands came, pulling down the hood of her robe to reveal her face, in it's entirety. She watched the young girl who stood by the bank hurry towards the shrubbery- Presumably, to tell the other Kóssa of what she had witnessed. Anniken could not help but smile at such naivety. Cool hands, soft and shaking with age enclosed her own, and she bowed her blonde head to look to the woman who knelt before her.
"Íshka?" "Yes?" "May I have your blessing, that my family will not be felled by this plague?" "Yes, Kílla. A drink from the Ókka river - go, now." Pale eyes rose to meet violet hues, and the old woman stared for a moment, disbelieving. But without any further deliberation, she stood, and turned, hobbling on her failing knees towards the Ókka river. Among the shrubs were little faces, peeking through the branches and foliage to watch this foreign being - They all stared, with wide eyes of every shade of blue, towards the old miss as she knelt by the holy river and drank. Anniken watched from behind, and as the woman rose to her feet again she stepped forward. "My brother was a better ruler than I, kílla. My blessing is all I can give."
And, with that, Anniken reached out to take the old woman's hands again. The woman stared at the Guardian's face, but Anniken would not meet her eyes; Instead she focused on the hands held in her own, every callous and scar that littered them.
"Anniken - íshka," The voice came, and Anniken's eyes rose back to her. "your brother is not the Guardian of this era. You are – and Snorri would be proud. I have faith in you – And the Prýsurtamin would, too."
Anniken couldn't help but find herself lost for words; She felt hands tugging away, though, and upon releasing, the old woman straightened up. Not another word was shared as the old Rýkillur hobbled off in the direction she came from – Yet the Kóssa, young and naïve as they were, poked their heads through the brush to continue staring.
Their parents would never believe it.
All Anniken had to do was smile, and they hurried off – Knowing they'd been spotted. She didn't mind them seeing her, really. They were merely intrigued by the difference between them. Intrigued by the tales they'd been told of these strange beings with violet eyes. Anniken couldn't blame them; She was one of a kind, even if at times that had it's drawbacks.
The walk towards the town was silent; Thankfully, nobody seemed to be following. That was good; Anniken didn't need to appease anyone else. Her biggest fear was probably those questions she couldn't answer – Why us? - and unfortunately, everyone seemed to ask exactly the same thing. That one thing that broke her heart, and made her feel small.
Isn't there anything you can do? As soon as her footing found concrete, Anniken raised her head. The trees parted at either side to reveal a bustling town, full of energy and life. Young children, barefoot and giggling, ran amongst the crowds from the very start; It warmed Anniken's heart to see everyone so happy. Clearly, the devastation had not reached them yet. No, a warmth hung in the air, crowds of people chattering happily among themselves. Anniken took a deep breath before she made her way in amongst the crowd, hood pulled over herself as though it were a lifeline.
Her cloak brushed against the concrete as she walked, and Anniken kept her head down. The stares she received were curious and, perhaps in some ways, downright nosy; She didn't mind, however. Until, a scream sounded from behind her. Like most, this has Anniken turning her head towards the source – A group of children stood in a haphazard circle, all staring at something on the floor. Or, rather someone, Anniken soon found. The chidren were pointing, panicking; As Anniken neared the circle of the Kóssa, she discovered why.
A young girl was kneeling on the ground, her hands pressed into the ground and her knees scuffed and dirty. Her hair was raven black, skin pale – And her eyes...
Red eyes.