Snippet #2751088

Aaron nodded as he listened. When thinking back he realized that nearly every mythological story he had ever heard, and could remember, had a crone or some old wise man in them. His heart sank in his chest a little bit. Tahra was right. Their help or advice usually had a price. That made him take another sip of beer. He seemed to consider what she had said and his own thoughts at the same time.

"You're right. Crones rarely mean good things happen." Aaron grimaced. "And I don't know if I trust her, but I just didn't feel like she was going to kill me. And not because she said that I shouldn't fear her, I mean, that's exactly what someone who might want to kill me would say." He chuckled at that. "It was more.. The way she said it and the feel of the place." Aaron paused and raised an eyebrow. "And also the fact that she had no fucking eyes." That fact was difficult to forget. "I guess we can consider what to do in the morning. And maybe also write what that owl said down? Unless you can remember it all in your head."

Aaron retreated to his own mind again for a brief moment. The following day was going to be frustrating. A lot of questions needed answering. Hell, Aaron wasn't even sure where to go. His best lead was that old crone across the street and the owl that had visited Tahra. And he wasn't even sure he could trust either. He shook his head slightly again, wanting to forget that for the time being, instead listening to Tahra.

"I've heard about the horned God!" Aaron burst out after having looked skeptical about what she said about her father. None of it had rung a bell except for that. He sat and thought about the whole thing for a moment and then shrugged. "Well, not the worst God to have as a father. I mean.. I don't know him or anything, but it sounds pretty cool. I like animals." A second passed. "And life, I guess." Aaron added with another crooked smile. He briefly wondered if she had any powers pertaining to the underworld but decided against asking. Before he could say anything, she sat up and spoke again.

"No, no. Maybe that's not so crazy." He countered when Tahra sounded skeptical about her having a gift like that. He thought back to the days leading up to his first meeting with his own father, and the meeting itself. He had spoken to Hugin and Munin himself, and wondered if he had been granted that very gift. Aaron hadn't had time to test it out yet. "I suppose time will tell, it'd be a cool power."

The last of his beer went down as he tilted his head back, and he set the bottle down on the table beside him. Aaron waited for a second, listening to what Tahra asked. He grabbed yet another beer, smirking.

"Well..." He started, opening the bottle. "My pantheon is the Norse one." Aaron said and nodded to himself. "And actually my real name is not Aaron. It's Arnór." He added the last part and looked at Tahra, surprised that he had said that. It was not something he told anybody ever. It just sort of slipped out. "But don't bother with that, Aaron is perfectly fine."

"My dad is... Apparently, Odin."