A pile of wooden slabs lay near Val, all of them scorched, cut, burned, or cracked, with blackened runes carved into them as if engraved with a laser. In a day, he had grown proficient with at least carving every rune into the wood, invoking them was a different story. It was almost to the point of second nature. Karl was correct; as Val practiced a few times with each rune, he had found that the technique for a rune would come to him. Upon recalling the rune, his body just took over from there, fast-tracking his comfort with this ancient alphabet.
He had experimented directly on the logs with some runes he had already understood. Mainly playing with 'Feoh,' for flames, and 'Is' for ice. This was the cause for some particularly scorched through slabs. Some had frozen so badly they cracked and split along the grains. He only stopped experimenting so recklessly after Karl pointed to a sizable pile of ruined slabs, telling him ruefully that the wood was there for him to practice carving runes. Karl still wanted the chunks back later for firewood.
"Hey, Karl, what's the trick to carving the runes into the air? You're not seriously going to tell me I'm supposed to walk around with slabs of wood to use magic, are you?" Val asked with an eyebrow raised.
Karl chuckled. "Not so much with runes, but as I recall... Your ancestors on the Japanese side did exactly that, in a sense. But no, I do not expect you to do that with the runes."
Karl held up a particularly marked slab and inspected it with his eye. "Your carvings are more precise now, I think I can teach you the next step."
Val stood up from his abused pile of wooden slabs and walked over.
"The trick to using the runes as I do lies in the problem itself, how do you carve runes into a substance as fluid as air?" Karl asked.
Val shrugged, having tried it and failed many times already. "This is a trick question, right? You can't."
Karl held up his hand to face his open palm towards Val, and very slowly this time, carved the rune for fire into the air. As he did so, he moved his arm to the side, showing him the rune at an angle.
Realization struck Val as his eyes widened, trying to observe every detail of the demonstration. As his viewing angle increased, he noticed the rune becoming thinner and thinner until it looked like a perfectly straight vertical line.
"How are you able to carve a completely flat surface in the air?" Val asked curiously.
"The trick really lies outside of the specific practice of Runic arts. Magic exists to bend, shape, or even break Natural Law. Exert your will on the magic in the air to hold it in a still plane, then carve your rune onto that plane." Karl explained.
Doing as he instructed, Val imagined a 'sheet of air,' using the clearest glass pane he could think of as a reference. To his delight, it was impossibly easy to carve into, much like simply drawing, far more manageable than the rough wooden slabs. A second later, though, as he was halfway into carving his rune, the plane he had created wobbled and fell apart.
Karl to chuckled. "The plane is easy to carve, but holding it for very long takes a much finer degree of control than you might expect. You can do it as you are now, but until you practice more, you will have to carve your runes swiftly to have time remaining to pour in your mana and invoke them."
Val sat down and hefted his latest victim from the pile of wood pieces. "Which basically means I'm not even close to using these in an actual situation."
"In time you will, for now, the next step awaits your ability to do this."
Karl held up a hand and in an instant a whole rune carved itself, glowing bright pale blue. Dismissing the rune, Karl walked away laughing, seemingly pleased with Val's surprise and his vast lead on him in terms of rune carving skill.
Annoyed, Val returned to his wooden slabs, focusing on improving the speed at which he could carve the runes clearly. He could not hold the plane for very long, but he realized the purpose of the misshapen logs was to give him practice leveraging a rune effectively on a rough surface, much like the plane as it wobbled and fall apart. Despite feeling mocked, Val felt appreciative at least that the direction of his instruction was towards utilizing magic as quickly as possible, instead of being gated until he perfected every step of the way.
Occasionally he practiced air carving, focusing mainly on improving his finesse at holding a plane of air still. He could maintain it for a couple seconds, but the second he started carving, it became much harder to maintain a still form. Pieces fell into place, and he was improving quickly, however. It was like trying to draw a shape on a still surface of water without creating ripples; he filled a basin with water and took a stick to practice this very image. Val felt stupid doing it, but he was sure something in his mind was digesting and benefiting from this concept.
Huginn lounged in a chair, observing Val's practice with interest, and a note of satisfaction in his eye. Val spied the raven and moved to block the bird's view, convinced there was yet more mockery to be had.
It was noon, and Val walked back over to the camp for some food when he saw Muninn had returned and was discussing something serious with Karl.
"How many are there?" Karl asked.
"At least four hundred were on the streets alone. I could not scout enough of the buildings, but considering the size of some of them and the amount of aetherial energy, I would guess there's a little over two thousand in the entire city." Muninn reported.
"How many humans?"
"Just under a hundred, they are all encamped in the warehouse. One of them was grievously injured, a young teenager."
Val heard the last bit and interrupted. "Who was injured? Is he alive?"
Karl and Muninn turned to look at Val, the grave expressions on their face immediately confirmed something was wrong in the East.
"What's going on with the survivors?" Val asked.
Karl sighed. "I suspected this might be an issue, but I did not expect it to happen so soon."
"What do you mean?"
"Ghouls." Karl replied.
"Ghouls? Like zombies?"
"Not the kind your people are obsessed with these days, the magical kind." Karl gestured upwards with a finger, the action not at all understood by Val.
Muninn thankfully provided an explanation. "When the Merging occurred, hundreds of millions of humans died between the beginning and the following week. More have possibly passed since then. The realms of the dead cannot take so many souls all at once. Whether turned away or unable to reach their afterlife, these souls remain here in this realm, lost, sometimes vengeful, but in all cases, they are a tortured existence. Existing in this realm as a soul is desolate and painful. Structurally the soul is like the magic in the air. It needs anima to live in balance. Normally when one passes, the soul remains in this world for mere moments. Before passing on and being welcomed by the keeper of whatever realm they are destined to proceed to. There they will be provided with new anima, constructing a sort of vessel or sometimes an actual body for the soul, depending on the realm."
Val listened intently but did not quite understand the association.
Karl picked up the explanation and continued. "Lost souls here grow more warped with each passing moment, they gather free aether in the air and bind it to their own will. Often, they will seek out fresh corpses and possess them, but corpses lack a life force, they are missing anima. Lacking anima but possessing a body that will move according to their will, they will prey on anima of the living, be it animals, humans, or other races. However, they cannot process it and take it for themselves, but they neither know that nor care. They are driven by a singular hunger to acquire anima to end their torture."
"So… Still functionally zombies." Val pointed out what he thought was obvious.
"Killing them is not so easy, even if you disable the body, whether by impairing them or destroying the brain. After a time, the soul may leave that body. Still trapped in this realm, it will find another host. Rarely, they will even come to possess a living creature whose thoughts or intentions align with its own. Even more rare, but extremely dangerous, a soul will have existed here long enough to gather enough power to regain sentience and form a soul body." Karl elaborated.
"You're screwing with me, you're telling me there's up to a couple billion potential zombies and bogeymen on this planet now?" Val asked dubiously.
"Not that many, but a fraction of that number is likely. If this is now manifesting itself so prevalently nearby." Karl said.
"How do we get rid of them then? Can I destroy the soul with magic?"
"The soul can be destroyed, yes, it is a structure similar enough to a collection of aether. Anti-magic arms or arts can harm or destroy them. I ask you not to do so unless you are desperate, however."
"Why not?"
"… This is not a fate they were supposed to have. They were taken far too early, in too large a number all at once. It has been some time since the Merging. The keepers of the dead should be collecting the ones still lost without a physical form. Their realms should be able to accept these souls now. Did you read about 'Hagal'?" Karl asked.
"I have. What will I use it for, though? It's the symbol of the Hoarfrost, isn't it? Doesn't it just make objects heavier?" Val asked curiously. He read about the rune, but it was one of the more nuanced runes with much of the text not translated, and he had not studied enough yet to properly read it.
"It is also Heimdall's mark, carve the rune upon their bodies, then burn them with fire. A simple funerary rite; 'Hagal' will draw the soul before Heimdall to be judged and sent to the appropriate realm. It may not be where they were destined, but it is an afterlife nonetheless. I doubt we will draw the ire of other keepers for taking souls destined initially for them, considering the situation, and Heimdall owes me a few favors, regardless." Karl suggested.
Val caught the implication in Karl's words with a look of surprise. "Hold on, you want *me* to go?"
Karl smiled and made an innocent expression, giving Val goosebumps watching an old man trying to feign powerlessness. "You aren't suggesting a retired old man such as I make the journey, are you? Besides, you wished to go find other survivors, you should now have both the will and a reason to do so, no?"
"Fine, it's probably better company than talking to a sly old bird and two actual birds."
Karl laughed as his next words left Huginn stammering in complaint. "Huginn, Muninn, you two will accompany Val, assist him as you would me."
"My lord! I must object, I must remain here with you, ensuring the goblins remain where they are!" Huginn complained.
Contrary to his act earlier, Karl insisted. "I'm retired, not helpless. The goblins won't come here, they can't even find this place, Nature herself shields my presence here. Think of it as a task from me, accompany the boy, see the world, we don't know who our neighbors are or whether the elder races have arrived. Report your findings back to me when you return."
Val was not thrilled at the prospect of the two ravens accompanying him. He especially did not want to be seen as a crazy person talking to birds, and he could imagine the kind of pranks Muninn might play. But he consented; nonetheless, they were capable and might prove invaluable.
"So, what will you do while we're gone?" Val asked.
"Hmm… I think I'm tired of sleeping in a tent, I might start upon a house, right here. A grand hall where I might host wondrous feasts again." Karl mused to himself.
Unable to quite picture a large Nordic hall Karl was describing with both vague and grand gestures, Val started packing some food and supplies.
"Oh, Val, before you head off on your little adventure, I have something that might help you." Karl recalled as he headed into his tent.
He emerged with a worn, long leather scabbard. They were faint, but Val could make out some kind of depiction carved into the leather, along with small rune etchings.
"This belonged to a friend of mine long ago, take good care of it." Karl instructed as he handed him the scabbard.
A long leather-bound grip protruded from the scabbard, enough for two hands to grasp. A simple, circular steel pommel at the end had a single rune matching the mark on his chest.
Karl watched with satisfaction as Val inspected the blade. Drawing the sword, he noted it was nearly a longsword, worn in many places, but still frighteningly sharp. Along the blade were various faded runic etchings and patterns. Sheathing the sword again, he held it in front of him, staring intently at the rune etched into the pommel. He had read about it and could read it now.
Val whispered the rune to himself, admiring the gift.
"Tyr…"