The Sacred Cradle of Life, 83000 B.C.
Calamnai stood where scarce few had ever stood before her.
She'd dreamed many centuries of the day she'd find herself standing upon this exact place — a portion of land so powerful, so ancient, so magical, that only particular beings could withstand to be within its grounds. From when she was just a small child, when she'd stood on the path of stones watching from the outside, she'd dreamed of being exactly where she was, now, in the center of the very place where destinies were told and fates were decided. It'd been a lifelong dream born out of the need for approval and belonging that she'd never thought she would see accomplished.
It came as a surprise to none more than herself that it had.
That the Yggdrasill had found her worthy enough to speak to her alone in its times of need.
Calamnai closed her eyes, letting the breeze carry the locks of her hair, a caress so soft and perfectly tender it felt like a kiss on her strands. She could hear the whispers, still, and it amazed her how the air around her seemed peaceful when she could feel quite clearly the surge of true, untainted, and untamed power in her skin.
Amidst the cacophony of voices and whispers, there was an inner tranquility that permeated the air around her. It was a feeling she had never experienced anywhere else. Even in her own village, where she had spent her entire life among those who shared her duty to protect the great tree before her, this serenity had never been present. This quiet and exuberant peace, as if nothing could ever breach the protection of the massive stones formed in a circle around the tree, shielding the life that thrived within it. Each of them was ancient, their weathered surfaces bearing the marks of time and history, but within their protective embrace, life thrived and flourished undisturbed, sheltered from the outside world. The gentle rustle of leaves and the soft chirping of birds created a symphony of nature, adding to the overall sense of calm and protection in this sacred place. The peacefulness was almost palpable, like a gentle breeze caressing her skin. It filled her with a quiet joy, and she had the inner certainity that nothing would ever be able to disturb the serene balance of nature within this sacred place.
She'd expected such a place to be utter chaos, for that's what it had looked like to her as a child — a place where the ancient voices screamed, the wind howled, the earth roared and the skies thundered.
And yet, around her, there was nothing if not a quiet, still whispering.
The voices were many. She couldn't make out how many she heard. She guessed maybe hundreds of thousands, even. Only that they chattered mindlessly around her, their words jumbled together to make no sentence with meaning. The whispering, though, was intelligibly discernible, with words thrown among the blabbering that she could make out. Some were sensibly harmless, like ' world' and 'fate', but a few could be quite distressing if given a proper context, such as 'death' and 'ending'. Still, she couldn't feel any change in the channeled power within the Stones, whatever whispers the voices were offering her producing no change to the air around her.
She took in a deep breath as she let her lashes fall closed and her head tip backward to fully take in the voices and all their whispers.
The great ones before her had once, so long ago, explained to her that the voices they heard were of those who had lived out their lives in service of the same task she now committed herself to, whose spirits had stayed tied to both the spiritual and the living realm to guide and aid those alive in their journey through fate.
She could only wish that one day she'd be worthy enough to be granted the same honor.
The wind picked up, then, making her hair wave in the breeze, and as her strands lifted off her shoulders, the whispers around her condensed as if the voices wished all to speak at once and dared not order to speak with. "Kæra barn."
Dear child, they'd said in the ancient language of the Gods.
"Yes." Calamnai's eyes popped open. "I am here."
Calamnai lifted her chin to the tree, stepping back as the voices surrounded her, the chatter erupting around her as loud as she'd ever heard it, stronger than ever before like all voices had begun to shout in unison. "Indeed, you have come, young one."
"The Yggdrasill called upon me in my dreams," Calamnai explained and it was clear in her voice that she read an obligation laced underneath such a call. "I came as quickly as I could."
"What has she shown you?"
Calamnai pulled a long breath into her lungs. "I couldn't understand any of the images it gave me, but I sensed its urgency in my presence. I knew it wanted to speak to me, so I came."
Calamnai had awoken in a cold sweat from her sleep, ranting about the tree to her sisters who'd been awakened by her frenzied state. The faint moonlight filtered through the window, casting shadows on Calamnai's face as she'd sat up in bed, her hair disheveled and her eyes wide with urgency. Though neither of them had agreed, she'd come to the Yggdrasil immediately, only wrapping herself in a long cloak to protect her from the strong winds in the journey to the tree.
She'd only just arrived.
"Indeed, she has much to show you. As we have much more to tell and teach you," the voices answered her, their whispering now completely focused into one voice as if they all spoke the same in unison. The voice she heard was not one alone, but one composed of many, and it was hard to place a gender on the sound. "We wished not to burden you, but the wisdom we possess must be passed on, for to protect a world yet to be born, only a chosen few can carry the load of its fate."
"A world yet to be born?" Calamnai furrowed her brows, looking up at the tree as if seeking answers in its swinging branches. "I've heard of no new world. Nor felt the creation of one. You mean to tell me the Great Ones will yet create another?"
The voices chuckled sweetly. "You cannot feel the birth of something yet to be, child."
Heat seeped into her face as the strength of her ignorance shamed her. "Of course."
"Be not ashamed, young child," the voices quietly requested, their tone gentle despite the harsh reality of what they were saying, for she was indeed too inexperienced in the task she was undertaking. "You're still young and the responsibilities which have been handed to you are yet much too recent. You will learn to understand as well as you listen, with time," the voices stopped, a few whispers rising, erasing the clarity of whatever words were spoken before they quieted once more and Calamnai could again make them out perfectly. "Your reign shall be long and wise. Fear not your youth and ingenuity, for it shall be the shield with which the times still to come will not destroy us all at the first touch of its darkness."
Calamnai snorted.
At the present moment, she felt like she was a bit more than young and naive.
She felt ignorant.
Calamnai took a deep breath, trying to steady her swirling thoughts. The voices spoke of such grave matters — a world yet to be born, a coming darkness — and she felt the weight of her inexperience pressing down on her shoulders. She was still struggling to understand the extent of her own gifts, let alone guide others through troubled times ahead.
Yet the Yggdrasil had called to her for a reason.
She was chosen, even if she did not fully comprehend why. There must be some spark within her, some seed of wisdom or courage, that the ancestors saw and nurtured.
"I am eager to learn," she said finally, her voice soft but steady. "My gifts are still new buds, not yet bloomed. Guide me and with your help, I hope to grow as wise as you tell me to one day become."
The wind swirled around her, tugging playfully at her cloak and hair. The whispers rose and fell, a soothing murmur. "We know your heart, young one," the voices murmured. "You were chosen for your compassion, not your power. Trust that time will turn you into who you were always meant to be and you shall do well."
Calamnai bowed her head as her thoughts strayed to her many sisters, still sleeping back home, dreaming of simpler things and beautiful lives. They deserved to live in a world without looming darkness. "I will do my best," she whispered. "For my people. For all people. For the Cosmos. For this world yet to be born."
The branches creaked above her, ancient wood groaning. "Now, come closer, child," the wind whispered. "There is yet much to show you…" The voices trailed off expectantly.
Calamnai steadied herself, then walked forward to press her hands against the ridged bark. She closed her eyes, committing herself to the path ahead, feeling the wisps of wind curl around her as the tree's whispers enveloped her in their strange harmony. She breathed deeply, centering her mind and opening herself up to receive the wisdom and visions the voices promised.
At first, there was only darkness, and Calamnai had to fight back a swell of doubt. But then shapes and colors began to bloom in her mind's eye, faint at first but growing stronger. She saw a vastness dotted with stars, nebulas swirling in purple and blue, and planets birthed in fiery creation.
The scope of the cosmos unfolding left her stunned and humbled.
Then her vision focused on a single planet — one that she did not recognize. Lush green continents gave way to sapphire oceans and fields of white sand. She caught glimpses of fantastic creatures, landscapes so breathtaking of mountains and valleys she would have loved to see them from up close. And amid it all were people — some who resembled her own kind, some very different, their faces a kaleidoscope of skin tones and features. They built great settlements, cultivated the land, innovated, and created. They also warred, destroyed, and suffered. They bore shields and swords with which they sought death upon each other and then placed crowns above one's head and offered thrones to his bloodline.
As Calamnai watched, enraptured, darkness crept over this world.
It started slowly — shadows at the edges, a chill in the air, fear and hatred flaring. Then it consumed everything in a terrifying wave, toppling the great cultures she had seen flourishing moments before, brewing wars and battles that bathed the world in blood.
It had been there from the very beginning, but with each strife, it grew stronger, more malevolent, until it festered and ravished.
It was a cycle.
Calamnai's heart clenched. "What is this darkness?" She whispered. "How can I stop it?"
It is balance in its purest form, and as all life is commanded by it, so is the existence of such a young world, the Yggdrasil's whispers surrounded her again. It was born in the first of times as a counterweight to bring chaos to peace, but it draws breath from the darkness that lives within all souls, given power in times of fear and hate. It will reach its full power within the world of the Children of Clay, where the Seid has decided that balance shall finally be restored, and the only weapon against it will be the blood of a king upon a field of daisies.
The vision faded, leaving Calamnai breathless with the weight of her destiny. She tightened her hands on the Yggdrasil's bark, feeling its solidity anchoring her. "Will this world survive?"
I cannot answer such a question, young Keeper, for the wyrd I am telling you about has much yet unknown, for the choices to be made can alter its ending, the Yggdrasil's voice spoke in her mind, and the tone made her feel a speck of heartwarming love and hope. I can, however, tell you that the chance to survive will be provided, given that those called upon to fight the war are ready to face the truth of their wyrd.
Calamnai snorted, shaking a head.
It didn't sound very encouraging, did it?
I have now told you all that I know, daughter, the Yggdrasill told her.
"This was what you wanted to show me, wasn't it? It's why you called me here, isn't it?"
It is a heavy burden to carry, I understand, but you cannot falter, Calamnai. You are my Keeper and that of the Cosmos, and if I've given you this knowledge, it is because I believe you will know what to do with it, she said to Calamnai's mind.
"And this is all you know?" She questioned, voice filled with doubt. "What you've shown me?"
Yes. A great fate looms, dear child. There was a small pause as the branches of the tree rustled soundlessly. The child of the Great One shall come to replace balance upon the Cosmos, and should he succeed, he will fulfill his destiny to rule the Cosmos.
Child of the Great One?
"You mean a son of Odin?"
Yes.
How could that be?
"But not one that's already been born?"
Yes. Just as the voice faltered, images replaced it.
The image of a young boy emerged in Calamnai's mind, his cherubic face adorned with the most striking blue eyes with stars painted across his irises, and delicate, translucent skin. She watched in awe as he matured into a man with strong, broad shoulders, chiseled features, a dazzling smile, and penetrating golden-blue eyes that seemed to see into her very soul. As the man he would, one day, become, he would be the most handsome man in existence, for Calamnai had never seen a creature more perfect than him. His shoulders, broad and strong, were the perfect depiction of confidence and power, mixed with the most humble honor. His chiseled jawline was defined and sharp, but his smile, despite dazzling by itself, lit up his whole face and eyes, while revealing perfectly white teeth. And those eyes… they seemed to have their own light source, sparkling with intelligence and depth like a sparkling galaxy illuminated from within with stars and planets of their own blended in a dark-blue sky. They held her gaze, making her feel both seen and vulnerable at the same time, almost as if he could sense her stare. His beauty was certainly unmatched, a flawless combination of strength and grace that left her breathless. She couldn't tear her gaze away from him as he moved with effortless grace through her mind's eye.
It was as though he knew she was watching him, his lips curving into a knowing smile.
But who was this man? And why did he hold such significance in this wyrd?
As if in response to her unspoken questions, the Yggdrasil's voice spoke again in her mind. This is the child of the Great One, the one who will come to restore balance to the Cosmos.
Calamnai's heart raced at this revelation.
She had heard tales of Odin's sons and how each of every single one of them was whispered to carry a sliver of their father's godhood, but she had never seen one. To her, they'd only been stories she knew better than to ignore as folktales, but that she'd never had the chance to see proven through her own eyes. But now, seeing this man before her in such vivid detail, she couldn't help but believe that he was real.
A wave of doubt crept over her.
How could such a beautiful, bright being be capable of restoring balance to the Cosmos? How could he ever fight something so fowl and dank as what was to come?
The Yggdrasil seemed to sense her doubts and sent reassurance through their bond. Do not let his appearance deceive you, Calamnai. This man is chosen by the wyrd itself, and his destiny is bound to the Cosmos'. You will play a crucial role in guiding him towards his wyrd, for what is beautiful on the outside may hide many scars, some of which may go deeper than you might be able to see or sense.
Calamnai's heart squeezed for this boy she'd never even met.
Even now, still a stranger, she felt an odd motherly pride and love she'd felt for him in the vision. The same need to protect and aid him in the hard path ahead of him. In the vision, he'd been a warrior. A hero. But it had sounded like she'd met him long before that. When he'd been only a child. An innocent infant. It had felt like she'd accompanied his life and journey. She remembered quite clearly how beautiful he'd been — a creation of the Gods, indeed —, but that hadn't been what made him stand out. It'd been his eyes. His presence. She'd stood in the presence of Gods before and neither had ever felt like he had. Unlike any other man or God she'd ever met, there was a magnitude and grace to him she'd never seen or felt about anyone before. A power so forged deep into his very skin and bones, there was no telling apart it from him. Aside from the corporeal beauty he most certainly carried, there was something about him that made the world orbit towards him, like he alone carried the key to the universe within him, making all things fall into order around him as if pieces upon a board.
He truly carried a kaðl fate.
If she felt this way about him, now, how would she feel once she finally knew him? When she looked into his eyes for the first time? Those two galaxies that seemed to carry both the remnants of the past and the wisps of the future?
"But he is yet to be born, is he not?"
Do not forget the words I will tell you now, the Yggdrasill's voice lowered to an almost whisper. It is not the will of fate itself that he will be born, but it is by fate's will that he will battle the darkness ahead. He, whose blood will bathe the earth. He, whose sweat will soak the raindrops. He, whose screams will strengthen the winds. He, whose light will pierce the darkness. He who I speak of shall be the soul of the realm, bonded to all the infinite particles that create its whole, breathing life into the realm and ushering peace amidst the war. He alone, whose skin will heal scars and whose touch will shatter blades, is the one destined to be the harbinger of chaos where all pieces shall finally be set in their place and all fallen pawns will be given a purpose for their sacrifice. It is he, who despite being so much lesser than a King, will be so well-placed in the balance that fate itself shall, at the very end, have him stand at the front of his fallen army, looking upon his enemy with equal darkness and beauty. And at the very end, when all blades have been dropped and all shields have been broken, it will be up to him, this being of a greater purpose, to decide with either his heart or his soul, whether the chaos will be the beginning… or the end.
Calamnai gasped.
Calamnai realized, with those words, that the Yggdrasill hadn't confirmed nor denied that it would, indeed, be the yet-to-be-born god, but she deeply believed it was, after what she'd seen. "So, there's a chance he won't succeed, isn't there?"
No victory is certain, my daughter, the Yggdrasill reminded her gently. As no doom is unavoidable. But by being given incredible power, great responsibilities will await him and in the end, it shall all end in blood and daisies.
Calamnai nodded her head, feeling her mouth go dry. "Is there nothing we can do to prevent this?"
No action will ever be able to prevent this wyrd from coming to pass.
"So, I am to do as I watched in this vision? To go to him and help in this war to come?"
You are to simply play your role as the Keeper that you are, Calamnai. For if you do that, there is a chance the Cosmos will survive, the Yggdrasil answered with a sorrowful voice. Now, go, child, and protect that which is yours, were the Yggdrasil's parting words.
Calamnai's hand fell off the bark of the tree as if stung.
She lifted her chin to the tree, though, stepping back as the voices of the Ancients surrounded her, the chatter erupting around her as loud as she'd ever heard it, stronger than ever before like all voices had begun to shout in unison.
Wind skated over her skin —
Before her very own eyes, amber sap was dripping over the tree's bark, pooling at its roots.
It was as if the Seid itself was streaming down the wood of the tree.
For a moment, Calamnai thought she was dreaming. Her fingers trembled as she licked her dry lips in disbelief.
How was this possible, she wondered?
But as the voices of the Ancients grew louder, Calamnai realized that something else was happening. The tree itself seemed to be responding to the words of the Yggdrasill, as if awakened by its own prophecy. Calamnai took a step closer, her eyes wide with wonder and awe. She reached out a hand and touched the sap, feeling a surge of energy course through her body. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before. As she stood there, lost in amazement, a sudden gust of wind blew through the forest, rustling leaves and branches. The voices around her grew even louder and more urgent.
Calamnai blinked —
And then she saw it.
The end.
The ancient tree towered above her, stretching high into the sky with twisting branches adorned with glowing green leaves. Its roots spread out wide across the ground like gnarled fingers reaching for something just out of reach. But what truly caught Calamnai's attention were the figures within those glowing leaves.
They were familiar faces.
Thor wielding Mjolnir, bleeding from multiple wounds, hugging to his chest a woman whose heart had already stopped beating, upon a field of daisies.
Gods in the skies.
Calamnai's heart raced as she realized the enormity of what was happening. The Yggdrasil, the ancient tree that connected all realms, was showing her visions of Ragnarok, the end of times. Of course, she'd heard ancient tales of Ragnarok, prophecies that it was yet to come, but to see it now, in front of her very eyes, was overwhelming.
Tears welled up in Calamnai's eyes as she watched the scenes unfold before her.
Suddenly, another figure appeared in the vision, one she didn't recognize. He stood tall and proud, with black hair and even darker eyes, a smirk on his face as he observed the chaos around him and heard the screams of pain rising from Thor.
Chaos.
He was chaos.
Pure chaos.
Calamnai felt a surge of anger towards him —
But then she saw something else. He wasn't alone. There were others with him — dark figures shrouded in shadows.
Monsters. Creatures. Beasts.
Calamnai could sense their evil and powerful presence even from afar and as she continued to watch the vision unfold, she knew what she had to do. The Yggdrasil had shown her this for a reason — she needed to gather allies and prepare for battle. She would not stand by and watch him destroy everything that she held dear.
With determination burning in her heart, Calamnai pushed her hand back from the sap still trailing down the Yggdrasil, watching how it resembled trails of tears down the tree.
Like the tree itself was crying.
She needed to warn Odin and rally their forces for what was to come.
Calamnai had never seen anything like this happen before and she hardly believed it had indeed ever happened before.
Her lashes fell closed. "I must warn him," she whispered to herself, body shaking. "He must know —"
"Calamnai."
She turned, watching as two women approached from the south, their long hairs waving with the gentle breeze making the leaves of the tree in front of her rustle. Xahria and Yasha approached with caution, getting up the steps that lead to the tree but crossing not the threshold of the Stone Circle. The two sisters instead remained at the edge of the circle, their eyes poised upon the sacred tree, with its tall, billowing branches that grew far into the sky where the clouds ran their caresses upon its lively, green leaves.
They'd come.
The women had long, flowing hair that swayed in the breeze, auburn and golden strands catching the sunlight. Their robes were made of vibrant fabrics, rich in color, and adorned with intricate designs. As they approached the tree, their eyes were filled with awe and reverence at its majestic beauty. One was dressed in emerald green and the other in a deep violet. Both wore battle gear, with swords and daggers strapped to their waists and thighs. Their hair was long and twisted into intricate braids, swept up in the wind. Their eyes, both a deep brown, lifted up to the tree, seeing as its branches reached towards the sky, each one adorned with bright green leaves that danced in the wind, as they cautiously made their way towards Calamnai. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting a warm glow on the surrounding area.
Calamnai stepped ahead to place a palm on the strong, ancient bark of the tree and felt the power within run its course with strength and vitality. The wind picked up, then, making her hair wave in the breeze, and as her strands lifted off her shoulders, the whispers around her condensed as if the voices wished all to speak at once and dared not order to speak with.
Calamnai's gasped as a sting of pain hit her temple.
"What's happening?" Yasha stepped forward with her interest and curiosity spiked. "Did it speak to you?"
Calamnai lifted her chin to the tree, stepping back as the voices surrounded her, the chatter erupting around her as loud as she'd ever heard it, stronger than ever before like all voices had begun to shout in unison. "Yes, it did," she solemnly admitted. "It showed me the images… the wyrd to come."
The others stood dumbfounded. "The Yggdrasill has not spoken in centuries."
"It did, now."
"We must call the others," Xahria said.
Yasha's eyes widened with a sense of urgency as she exchanged a quick glance with Xahria. They both knew the gravity of the situation at hand. The ancient tree had remained silent for so long, and now, its sudden communication with Calamnai foretold of ominous times ahead. Without wasting another moment, Yasha nodded decisively. "Yes, we must gather immediately. The elders need to hear of this at once."
Calamnai felt a weight settle in her chest as she watched the two women. She knew that the future was uncertain, that the threads of destiny were weaving a dark tapestry that threatened to unravel everything they held dear.
"No," Calamnai ordered, voice strong. One of her hands rose to stop the other two women. "Leave them be. No harm is to come, for now. Call him, instead."
"Call who, Calamnai?" Xahria asked.
"The God of Gods," she said. "He must know this, and it is best that he hears it from me."