TWELVE

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I woke up in a creek, dark clouds surrounding me so I could see no further than my elbows. My head span as I looked around, trying to understand where I was and why I was here.

Whispers were circling me, faint and distant; I could not make them out no matter how much I tried.

I tried to take a step forward, but the cold chilled my bones, so I ended up just stumbling awkwardly and grasping onto nearby roots to stay up right. "Hello?"

Something whipped past me through the fog.

I moved my hand back, clasping it to my chest, my heart beating harshly against my ribs. "Who are you?"

The whispers grew louder, spoken in Old Norse, the language of the Gods. I could only understand a word here and there, something about a man and woman.

"Freyja?" I called out, "Have you summoned me?"

A crack sounded behind me, and I whipped around again, looking through the thick fog.

"Who are you?" I demanded again, "Why am I here?"

A shadow grew through the fog, standing on the side of the creek's bank. It formed the shape of someone slender and somewhat petite, definitely a woman.

"Who are you?" I tried again, giving up on trying to move in different directions and just waiting for answers.

"I am the first," the woman's voice called out, "I was just the beginning."

I frowned, squinting to see if I could see her better, but I couldn't. "I don't understand."

"Gyda?"

Ice washed over me as I whipped around, searching desperately through the fog with my eyes, "Ragnar?!"

Silence followed my yell, and I strained against the water holding me in place in the creek.

"Ragnar!"

"I am the second," the voice, Ragnar's voice, spoke again in a low groan, "you warned me."

"Ragnar!" I yelled again, reaching for the bank, clawing at the soil, the dirt sliding under my nails. I could not reach him.

His shadow faded, and when I looked back, the woman's shadow had disappeared too.

I bit my lip to stop from crying, my heart palpitating with enough for it to ache, "What is this? Where am I?"

A third shadow caught my attention at the very front of the creek; it formed hesitantly, taking its time to approach the creek.

I swallowed, a spark of hopefulness blooming in me, "Ragnar?"

But the figure was too thin and too lanky to be Ragnar, I could see that from a mile away.

"Where am I?" The figure spoke, his voice confused as he tried to make sense of things the same way I did.

I dragged my feet forward with all my strength, my teeth clattering, "You are in my vision. You tell me."

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