Day Five of the Odinsleep (Hansuke's Departure)
16 Feb 1371 (Day Five of the Odinsleep)
“Hansuke.”
The voice, heard clearly in his head, brought him instantly awake. He looked around the room for the source of the smooth baritone and saw that nearly all of his companions, save Kysek who was still reading from the tome of ones and zeroes, were fast asleep or deep in meditation. He nearly dismissed the voice as the imaginings of a dream, turned a circle after stretching his feline claws and tucked his tail around his body as he settled back in to resume napping when he heard it again.
“Hansuke, follow the sound of my voice.”
This time he knew that he was not dreaming and padded across the room on four silent paws. He slipped out the front door of Völundr’s home and into the street. He had no need to gather his belongings. They had changed shape with him and were absorbed into his body when he had assumed his feline form. He made his way down the thoroughfare, past homes and shops with their lights extinguished for the night and into the darkness. Every so often the voice would direct him to turn right or left, drawing him onward. Briefly, Hansuke wondered if this was some sort of ploy orchestrated by Loki, the God of Mischief, but seeing no benefit the ruse would afford him, dismissed the idea and followed on until he found himself walking down an iridescent roadway stretching out over a vast body of water toward a domed building sitting on a rocky island perched on the edge of a waterfall.
The monk passed beneath an archway leading inside and beheld a large, powerfully built man in heavy furs, armor, and a horned helmet standing with his back toward him. A massive broadsword rested point down on the floor and the warrior’s hands were draped over the crossguard as he stared out into the void beyond the precipice.
“It is quite beautiful, is it not?” the warrior asked. “I spend so much time here, watching for enemies that I, for all my gifts, fail to see it sometimes. The All-Father, before he began this sleep, left me with certain instructions. I have seen and heard most of what he foretold already come to pass and now my role is made clear to me.” The god turns to face Hansuke, “Your path diverges from that of your companions unless you choose to make it otherwise. Should you wish it, I have been instructed to open the Bifrost to you that you may return to Midgard.”
The god in the horned helm walks over to a pedestal in the center of the chamber. He slides his sword into an opening in top of the miniature plinth and twists it sharply to the left. The domed ceiling begins to revolve, swiftly picking up speed until it is little more than a blur. Suddenly, a shaft of light erupts from the building, stretching out into the blackness of night. “The choice is yours.”
“Hansuke.”
The voice, heard clearly in his head, brought him instantly awake. He looked around the room for the source of the smooth baritone and saw that nearly all of his companions, save Kysek who was still reading from the tome of ones and zeroes, were fast asleep or deep in meditation. He nearly dismissed the voice as the imaginings of a dream, turned a circle after stretching his feline claws and tucked his tail around his body as he settled back in to resume napping when he heard it again.
“Hansuke, follow the sound of my voice.”
This time he knew that he was not dreaming and padded across the room on four silent paws. He slipped out the front door of Völundr’s home and into the street. He had no need to gather his belongings. They had changed shape with him and were absorbed into his body when he had assumed his feline form. He made his way down the thoroughfare, past homes and shops with their lights extinguished for the night and into the darkness. Every so often the voice would direct him to turn right or left, drawing him onward. Briefly, Hansuke wondered if this was some sort of ploy orchestrated by Loki, the God of Mischief, but seeing no benefit the ruse would afford him, dismissed the idea and followed on until he found himself walking down an iridescent roadway stretching out over a vast body of water toward a domed building sitting on a rocky island perched on the edge of a waterfall.
The monk passed beneath an archway leading inside and beheld a large, powerfully built man in heavy furs, armor, and a horned helmet standing with his back toward him. A massive broadsword rested point down on the floor and the warrior’s hands were draped over the crossguard as he stared out into the void beyond the precipice.
“It is quite beautiful, is it not?” the warrior asked. “I spend so much time here, watching for enemies that I, for all my gifts, fail to see it sometimes. The All-Father, before he began this sleep, left me with certain instructions. I have seen and heard most of what he foretold already come to pass and now my role is made clear to me.” The god turns to face Hansuke, “Your path diverges from that of your companions unless you choose to make it otherwise. Should you wish it, I have been instructed to open the Bifrost to you that you may return to Midgard.”
The god in the horned helm walks over to a pedestal in the center of the chamber. He slides his sword into an opening in top of the miniature plinth and twists it sharply to the left. The domed ceiling begins to revolve, swiftly picking up speed until it is little more than a blur. Suddenly, a shaft of light erupts from the building, stretching out into the blackness of night. “The choice is yours.”
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