Snippet #2434234

Ulfar & Tyra Leiknir

Tyra happily nodded in agreement as Katsura patted her shoulder. “It just seemed so… unreal!” she said, her messy hair swaying slightly in her enthusiasm.

“Congratulations Tyra!! I can’t wait to bring you home to Wa with us! My parents will love you.” Masaki slurred as he hugged Tyra tightly, the strong mead of Fyrkat obviously beginning to take to him.

Tyra returned the hug with the same enthusiasm. “I’m really looking forward to it too! I hope they do like me, I’ll be a long way from home to go back on a whim!” She laughed, as they released one another.

“He usually doesn’t feel comfortable enough to hug most anyone outside of me. This is quite the honour. He really is happy for you Tyra.” Katsura informed.

Tyra giggled slightly, her own tolerance for mead being greatly less than her fathers. “Then I shall savour the moment.” She once more drew him into a squeeze, though it was only just short of a bear hug from the surprisingly strong girl.

Ulfar had remained sober for the evening though he had already partaken in a vast quantity of the honey tasting drink, his remarkable tolerance holding much stronger than her daughter’s. He listened intently to Hatsumomo as she explained her nation’s magic; something which although he could not actually perform himself was always a prominent feature in politics and so would bear use in learning, knowledge of others could always lead to ways to better oneself. Self-righteous arrogance is rarely a trait of a good leader.

“I really find the mages here quite interesting. Their magic is quite different. I can feel that there is a direct link between their power and the spirits of the land itself.” Hatsumomo explained.

“The Seidhr’s power is granted by Odin at birth, it is not something that everyone can learn and it is entirely random in its choosing. Take Tyra for example, she is a Seith and is possibly capable of magic worthy to challenge you both. However she might lack the ability to control it, or it was so entirely inert that it is impossible for her to even start a small fire.” The bearded king took a swig of his tankard. “Although as you saw with Baldr; it would be unlike Tyra to ever be incapable of casting powerful magic.” He explained. “Then look at her mother and I and neither of us had the Seidhr gifts nor did our parents before us nor as I know it for any Leiknir for several generations.”

Turning to Faramir Ulfar began to soak in the information again, his wise eyes never breaking attention.

“I agree regarding the mages here. I find them fascinating. Also the runes I’ve seen today are indeed special. They seem quite distant from the 27 true runes but they are actually descendant runes. They are quite a rare case indeed.” Faramir added to their conversation.

Ulfar gave a small chuckle to himself as he summoned for refills of their drinks. “The runes are our way of writing.” He explained drawing a small dagger from his belt. “Take this for example; it reads Frostbál” He said running his finger down the blade to show the jagged script of the Fyrkat runes. “They were again granted to us by Odin. He sacrificed his eye to drink from the well of wisdom and whilst he drank he drew the runes from its depths.” Ulfar appeared to think on how to explain the unusual way the Fyrkat runes worked.

“They are both inert and entirely magical at the same time; they are often used in the foretelling of the future as they after all came from the well of wisdom but they are also entirely inert and a form of writing.” He explained eventually. “I hope that makes sense.”

“King Ulfar and Princess Tyra.” A voice called out into the room in the common tongue. “From the Lands of Mildorian’s Magician’s Tower is Lord Thorin Elendil!!”

The royal pair looked up as one from their conversations as a young man whom was easily recognisable as Faramir’s son walked confidently towards their table. “Greeting from the Magician’s Tower, King Ulfar. My most heartfelt congratulations on your achievement today.” Thorin spoke.

“King Ulfar, Princess Tyra, Prince Masaki, Lord Katsura, and Lady Himiko, allow me to introduce you to my youngest son Thorin.”

Ulfar nodded in agreement a smile on his face. “Thank you and welcome to Fyrkat, Thorin son of Faramir.” He answered before gesturing to a spare seat at their table. “Please, join us.”

Tyra smiled towards the new arrival but she herself remained silent, her qualms were with the coward Faramir. His family had so far done nought do disprove themselves in her eyes. She listened to their conversation, weighing up the mage’s son in her mind. Although he bore his father’s face he was certainly less of a coward then his father; to seek him out this far from home to warn him of a prediction of war he must have some honour to him.

“Well, I had completed the scheduled astrology reading a few days ago and there is a disturbing pattern. The globe runs the edge of hell in a short time period to come.”

Ulfar once again had his pondering look befall his face as he chose his words. “Then perhaps I should go to this South Atlantic Kingdom, I’ll be damned if I fought for a kingdom to only die in my bed.” He added with good humour. “Valhalla had best be waiting for me when I go.” Although Fyrkat was incredibly liberal in its views of most subjects their ideals of war and a good life were vastly different to most nations. In Fyrkat to die of old age was far worse than being cut down in glorious battle.

“Lord Ulfar, you asked of magic earlier. I will have Thorin show you all something interesting.” Faramir said then turned to Thorin. “Why don’t you give Prince Masaki and Lady Tyra a magical aptitude test? I think it would be quite interesting.”

Tyra felt her heart sink at Faramir’s words and she quickly turned shy, lowering her head and trying her hardest to blend into the background as Thorin touched Masaki’s hand and described his capability of magic.

Thorin turned toward Tyra, “How about you Princess Tyra? Would you like me to test your magical aptitude?” Thorin smiled angelically again. He was a jovial presence.

Tyra shook her head vigorously, “No it’s ok. I can’t cast magic.” She lied. “The gods never blessed with that ability.” She added, a lump forming in her throat. Ulfar remained silent throughout but his daughter’s discomfort was not unknown to him; like so many of the Seith, Tyra was ashamed of not being taught by the Seith, even more so since her training would have kept her from her brothers and thus saved their lives. To her it meant not being good enough, a great pain to the honourable Fyrkat people.