Shadows of Aesir

Mathew leaned closer to the arch. On closer inspection, he noticed that the material used was different from that of the surrounding walls. It was made up of a jet-black, glassy material. Its surface was perfectly smooth and full of luster. The closer he got, the more the flickering light from the lantern illuminated its surface, as well as the intricate carvings.

'What is this material? It's almost… like a giant chunk of glass.'

Captivated by its beauty, he reached out and touched its icy cold surface. Tracing the symbols with his fingers and feeling the cool stone beneath his touch. The method used to engrave the markings was unclear. At a glance, one would think that it was carved into the arch using some fort of tool, but after touching it himself, he noticed ridges within them. The texture reminded him of a piece of molten slag he saw once after a fissure break. The piece of metal was scorched by the fiery breath of a Voidspawn and reduced to Slag. If that wasn't enough, there were scorch marks around some of the runes.

It was almost as if a beam of concentrated light had been used to melt the stone.

That of course was of no concern to him. He was lost in a storm of thoughts as he contemplated what the runes could mean. He wasn't some sort of archeologist, neither did he have an interest in the history of the maze, but he did however want to live. And if he was to do that, he had to find a way out.

"Okay, let's see if I can make sense of this,"

Squinting at the symbols. He began to mutter under his breath, trying to piece together a crude translation. Attributing similar shapes to that of the language he was familiar with. But as he continued, frustration began to creep in. The more he analyzed the runes, the more they seemed to elude him. Now and then he would find a word that was all A's or a nonsensical mix of different letters.

"Why isn't this making sense?"

Scratching his head, he grew increasingly frustrated. Time quickly passed and eventually, the woman, who had been silently sitting by the arch, finally spoke.

"Do you have to be so loud?"

As he was lost in his stupor of thought, however, he just ignored her.

The woman shifted slightly, her expression a mix of irritation and impatience.

"I've been sitting here, waiting for ages. I'm tired, hungry and your muttering is starting to get on my nerves."

A silence hung between them for a few moments, the woman stared at Mathew, anticipating a reply. Soon, his lips parted and her eyes shone with expectation. A sliver of hope ignited in her chest that he was about to give i and take them back to the safety, or relative safety of the well-lit pathways. She couldn't stand being there for another minute.

But the words to escape his lips, drowned her in despair.

"They just don't add up."

They weren't insults, nor was it a reply to her earlier statement, nor was it even directed towards her. In fact, at this very moment, he was so engrossed in whatever it was he was doing that he had forgotten she was there.

Staring at him with a contemptuous gaze, she sat back, rolled her eyes, brushed a strand of hair away from her face, and muttered under her voice.

"Unbelievable,"

Remaining oblivious, Mathew focused entirely on deciphering the runes. The woman huffed and groaned, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as her irritation bubbled.

For Mathew time felt like it was flying by while he worked tirelessly to at least try to make sense of the runes. Even though everything he had tried failed. While, for the woman, time moved slower than a snail crawled across the floor. She was beginning to lose patience

"How long do you plan to keep this up?"

"As long as it takes."

"You've just been staring at those runes like they're going to magically tell you something. It's not working!"

And again, the deafening silence fell. Even more time passed, and Mathew made no strides in deciphering the runes. He glanced to his side and saw that the beautiful woman had long fallen asleep.

Glancing back at the arch, he felt a wave of fatigue was over him. He opened his mouth wide and let out a loud yawn.

'Was I that tired?'

Looking back at the woman, he turned and walked towards the wall opposite her and sat down. Resting his head against the cobblestone, he closed his eyes for just a moment, hoping to gather his thoughts and regain some energy. The coolness of the stone felt surprisingly comforting, drawing him closer to the edge of consciousness.

With the lantern of avarice at his side, he sat there watching the lantern light cast gentle shadows around the eerily dark path. The silence enveloped him, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to drift, thoughts of the runes fading into the background.

He began to wonder what he would do when he returned home. The first task would be finding out what happened to his mother's corpse. But if his guess was right, since she was a nameless slum dweller, her body would be cremated and dumped away. The thought of his mother's remains being treated in such a way filled him with rage. 

The fact that she was a nameless slum dweller, would be the reason she would not receive a proper burial filled him with a deep seeded hate for the system of the world he lived in. He couldn't dwell on that though, he had a mission. But he couldn't afford to dwell on that anger now; he had a mission to complete, and the path ahead was fraught with challenges.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. He had to prepare. And the first step he would need to take was obtaining knowledge. Knowledge about not only the inner workings of his world and society which often felt like a labyrinth of corruption and indifference. He needed and wanted desperately to understand the societal structures that had failed his mother.

 But more than that, he needed to delve into the mysteries of Ygdrassil. It was a nexus where Heralds spent most of their time and obtained, power that could change everything. And after knowledge, he needed that very same power. The power to be able to protect himself and achieve his goals. The power to carve a path through the darkness that is the life of a human.

As he gathered his thoughts, a sense of determination washed over him. He would not allow the world to dictate his fate any longer. With a final glance at the lantern, the woman, then the arch, he steeled himself for the journey ahead. 

But life wasn't so simple. Not for a Herald.

Suddenly, while sat on the floor only moments away from falling asleep, he felt a tremor in the ground.