Tyr and the Alfar

The smell of the of burned flesh from the giant I took the weapon from was becoming more pungent. Its blubbery mass fed those flames, while the rest of the mountainside calmed down in the early morning cold and damp hours of the daytime. The world had stayed up all night in excitement and was now falling asleep despite the rising sun that was just starting to thaw the sky out from black to blue. My brothers were frozen and I could barely feel my hands from cold and cuts in my palms. We huddled near the pile of smoldering and sputtering carcass.

My brothers were chaotic and I was losing my consciousness. "I can't believe he's gone" and "Look at the dead giant burning I can see his guts" and "I miss Mom" along with several other disarranged chattering escaped my brothers' mouths. Not that it seemed like things could get any worse even if we somehow lost each other. Dread pierced my heart and hopelessness sank in. I sat down as close to the fire as I dared. At some point my body decided shivering was a prudent course of action, which at the time did not bother me because I could not think of anything else.

"He looks really tired," Vili said quietly, probably he thought I did not notice. But I just did not have the energy to react. "I wonder if he even knows what he just did?"

"He's still thinking about Grandfather. I'm still thinking about everyone else. They're all gone. I saw two of those giants get away!" Ve began to panic. "What if they come back?"

I knew some part of what my grandfather must have felt. The cold wind played with the surging truth that knifed the inside of my stomach. I bent over on the ground, fell to my knees, and shivered and coughed. Reality licked me over and over, and I felt like the birthing of my insides through my eyes and mouth. Under my face, I looked at the now frozen pile of tears and bile. "There is both Audhumla and Ymir in you, my sons," Grandfather had once told us. "But there can come good from bad. Stay positive when you can."

My brothers knelt down beside me, one on each shoulder, to rub my back and warm me. "We need to get back inside," they repeated several times as they urged me back to the mountain top.

***

In the morning things were plain. All was quiet, save the breathing of my brothers and the rippling of water. Everything was perfect, no thirst to quench nor bladder to relieve. I could not see it, but my dirty blonde hair as frazzled and felt stiff. I pulled the blankets away and looked to the floor. My clothes were a mess. Gradually the pain my skinned palms reminded me of the cold mountain outside. Somewhere under the surface, frozen once again, lay my grandfather. I was only twelve and already I was the head of the family unless Mom or Grandmother had survived.

Dad. His halved body hung lifeless in that tree. I had to go. I could not leave him there to rot or feed seagulls or crows! I jumped out of bed and grabbed my shoes without putting them on. But I had forgotten to put the door back using my necklace of beads. A tall grey-haired metal armored figure caught me by the shoulder and pushed me to the floor.

"Stop! There is no rush and the last of the Jotnar roam free on the mountain."

"My father…!"

"Will have his funeral in due time." He sounded old, but strong and cheerful. He was used to death. I struggled with his grip but her persisted. "Sit back down."

"The others?"

"They have all fallen. But we are still looking for…" My brothers peeked around the corner and the old, armored-one grinned out the left side of his mouth and squinted with his left eye at them and then back and me. "Well, you just saved the day."

"Jotnar?" I asked.

"The Frost Giants. At least two got away." He picked me back up to my feet. "I saw you throw the weapon at Ymir from across the beach by the north where the cape jets into the water. The tide had only just receded to allow me passage."

"Who are you? Where did you come from?"

"I am Tyr. I have come here to destroy what a joint army of noble giants and gods were unable to accomplish, yet their children and an elder ice-man were able to do in only a few desperate moments. We came here to stop the beast." He laughed as he spoke. I did not detect disrespect in his voice, only the surpise that a boy, I, had slain the giant.

"Who do you mean 'we?'"

Before he could answer my question someone entered through the front door. This person had long golden hair unlike anything I had ever seen. Eyes larger than the fullest crescent moon with a small dark dot in the center. Thin but strong. Wise yet childish. Strong and beautiful. Even after speaking I could not tell if who I saw was male or female or a child or an adult.

"Tyr, I have secured the area. No surviving threats remain."

"Outstanding," bellowed the old warrior, still laughing. "Vaennsker, say hello to these three young ones. They're Buri's grandchildren." And then he spoke in a loud whisper not to actually keep a secret. "I don't think they've ever met an elf before."

"It is a good thing. Nor have I ever encountered such brave young ones." He introduced himself finally, thought I felt hypnotized by his voice. Only his name ever gave away his gender, and if I was mistaken then it is my own fault for not telling things the way they really happened and were. But it was so very long ago.

Vaennsker continued to speak. My brothers inched closer to the three of us. After a momment another elf entered the building with a kettle. Another behind that one followed with a collection of mugs.

"Araethihlaup, thank you. These young heroes must be thirsty!" Tyr took the kettle. "Come you two," he said to my brothers. "Take one of these mugs that old Frothforn is handing out before we forget to share."

I was caught on the word: Old. The elf looked as young as I did. I, even, was just as tall. "Unless… Tyr is a child, but he looks so old." In my mind I spoke those words and strangely out came, "Old?"

Tyr looked up at the ceiling. In a slow and less humored tone he answered me, "Frothforn is older than I am."

***

I could taste smoke in my mouth. The air smelled like freshly cut lumber. I only know the death with my eyes. My hands ached from the night before. The few of us walked single file out through the front door. Outside an army and a funeral ceremony awaited us.

I felt smaller and the world shined larger than I had ever seen it. In the morning sun all was blue, white, and yellow. Ice down the side of the mountain cape blazed a brightness against shadows. The beach far below, damp and cold, yet warmer in the morning glow from the sky. Almost no clouds blotted the blue sky. The white waves of the surf blended with the few streaks and fluffs on the horizon.

Elves moved everywhere I could see. Perhaps they numbered more than any group of people who I had witnessed before at that age. All of them were so busy clearing trees and branches that fell by the giants. They worked so well together without speaking. But when I listened more carefully I could hear the faint, alternated tune of humming. And on occasion, when the elves took their breaths, a group of white steam shot out of their mouths on the beat of the song. Soon the debris had been piled. The elves broke off into groups to form a long series of lines down the slope, past the icy grave of my grandfather, along the flowing water creek beside my family's home, and out to the beach.

The humming became louder and faster and one elf stood apart from the others on the beach. That elf threw a stone against a large boulder causing a rolling thunder of moving tree limbs and trunks among the lines of the rest of the elves.

A convoy of branches transformed along the lines of elves towards the beach into finely cut lumber. Another thundering stone slammed against the rocks of the beach. That signaled the beginning of saws. Elves pushed and pulled in their lines. Their work was music and they were all a large hive. The humming grew louder and louder when finally finished shapes and pieces of wooden materials reached the sand where the lone elf stood.

My brothers, Tyr, the three elves, and I stood on the top of the mountainside looking down. The long line of elves stretched across the woods, more than a mile of synchronization. My brothers were hypnotized by the performance. I felt like it was all for their benefit. Tyr said nothing but his mighty and arrogant stance was a presence enough to match that of the elves below. He reminded me of what grandfather might have been as a young man and I very much disliked that.

My feelings shined with frustration and dark anger. The war leader could read me. "Something troubles you, young giant slayer. I can see it in your face and I hear it even though you stand so silently. You keep eyeing me."

"I am part giant," I had thought about it all night. I turned to face him directly. My shock of losing my family acted like bravery on the surface of my blank expression. "Slayer would seem more a word for monsters. I killed distant family relatives. Some would call that murder."

"Oh, I only left out monster to be polite! A young one like yourself, I must be careful around you or a horrible fate will come to me. Look down below. You will be impressed, terrible one. "

The elves had built a very large longship out of the wood. When I had glanced towards my closer companions, those who were down on the beach had begun to form the beginning of the ship. Tyr stepped forward and turned to face my brothers. "We are going to send your family and your family's friends to the next world. Would you like to view the ceremony from here or from the beach?"

"Given the choice, I would rather watch it up close," I replied with as much respect as I could deliver. I felt anxious standing still; I wanted to move; the  pain in my hands and a flood of sudden distaste for this old warrior. "We should hurry if they will they wait for us to arrive."

"They will wait until I signal them to begin."

Tyr looked like a personÑa manÑjust like my brothers and me. I remember wondering how he managed to come to lead or control such a large army of other types of people, these elves. It seemed so obvious to me at that age that he was their leader. But I may have missed things. Perhaps he was simply the only one who could or wanted to related to three children. Or maybe his command was only in lieu of some absent leader.

***

At the beach, we all gathered. I faced to the northwest. Behind me, the sun crawled up the sky as she reached nearer to noon. The sky was unusually clear for the winter and the light warmed my back. In front of me the new longship rested in the shallow waves. Elves stood everywhere. More times than I could remember had I stood on that beach, but never with so many people.

From the ends of the lines elves passed glittering steel swords, black iron spearheads, perfectly circular oak shields, silver figurines of elves, golden rings, and unequaled gilded clothing of reds and greens and blues. The items traveled, hand by hand, until they reached the front and center of the congregation. One at a time, in the hands of those with the highest honor, the burial treasures boarded the ship. All but the last of the elves, Vaennsker, disembarked.

In words I understood none of, the remaining elf spoke while the ones who had carried the treasures launched the longship. Tyr interpreted the words of Vaennsker for us, but the sight of the chilling waves splashing against their bodies distracted me. Even though I remember nothing of what he said, I knew what was happening. My family and everyone the elves had found from the onslaught was on board.

Araethihlaup and Frothforn stood beside me holding bows, arrows, and a fiery torch. Frothforn quietly whispered a question to bring me back to my senses in a voice as deep as a storm rumbling, "Would you like to start the blaze?"

I looked at Tyr with a panic, but my mouth opened to let out silence. Not even a breath escaped my lungs. My head throbbed and I began to feel dizziness and nausea. Excess liquid filled my mouth and I swallowed and I coughed. My airways opening up I finally gasped, "Wait, we have to do something, Vaennsker is still aboard!"

"Ha ha ha, he thought we were really going to kill one of our own as sacrifice during the memorial! It is a fictitious play to symbolize honor. Do not be fooled, young hero. Only humans would be so silly. Never waste a life."

"What are humans?"