Chapter 6: Host

The elf with the giant axe stood steady before Rebecka. Given the crown on his head, she was certain he had to be a king. However, if he was the king shouldn't he be wearing something fancier and more royal? Instead, he wore a simple cloak and leather armor rather than the polished plate steel she'd seen the regular knights in.

Rebecka also wondered if she was about to be turned inside out and crushed to death the same way the skinhead had been.

Gods protect me. Freyja. Odin. Thor. Loki. Anyone. Please, give me the strength to survive this test, she prayed in her mind.

Time seemed to stretch for an eternity.

Behind the King, the little red spider on the table crawled to a better vantage point atop a bowl of limes as if it wanted to watch the show. Rebecka knew time hadn't stopped altogether thanks to that movement. Magic was real, so it stood to reason someone could stop time if they wanted to.

The table's covered in all my stuff and other people's belongings. Who the hel brought the bowl of limes? Are they just ornamental? She wondered in between continued prayers to the gods to keep herself from panicking.

The King continued to stand still. He held the huge axe in front of his chest using both gloved hands, the blades broad enough to stretch well beyond the width of his shoulders. His leather armor was visible through gaps in the intricate interwoven metal vines that formed the cheek of each blade. They looked very much like the cables that had exploded out of the gang member before the weapon had violently consumed him.

If magic is real then maybe the gods are real. Please, someone, keep me from being eaten by that axe!

The King nodded at the guards holding Rebecka's arms behind her. They released her before stepping away, leaving her left shoulder throbbing and dislocated. Her heart pounded even more loudly in her ears as the cold metal of the axe was finally pressed against her forehead. The King held it there a moment that seemed to stretch even longer than when he stood in front of her. The chill from the steel became more intense, like ice water poured over her skull. The King shifted his hands on the handle of the axe, moving them down near the bottom just as he had when he tested the gang member.

No.

No.

I can't have failed.

Oh, shit. Oh, gods.

Please don't tell me I failed the gods damn test!

The cold water feeling continued to pour into her head, running behind her eyes, across her shoulders, down her spine. She took a deep breath and relaxed her body as she waited for real pain.

Initializing, a voice said in her head.

"What?" Rebecka asked out loud.

Was that what the gang member heard before he died? The reason he kept saying 'what' before he was killed?

Suitable host confirmed.

"Host?" She asked.

The King let go of the axe as he too backed away, but the weapon stayed in the same position he had left it: pressed against Rebecka's forehead, the handle at an angle pointing away from her. She had no idea how she was still upright given the weapon's size.

Syncing all systems.

Rebecka didn't get to speak this time. The ice water became a rushing torrent, threatening to drown her, as the axe flowed toward her face, pouring into her through her eyes, nose, ears, and mouth. Thousands of tendrils formed before they broke down to even smaller parts, threatening to drown her in fluid metal. She struggled to breathe as the last of the axe vanished down her throat. Then everything went black.

"I'm dead. I'm dead now," Rebecka thought to herself.

"Systems syncing. Welcome message: Greetings new Host," the pleasant, albeit rather soulless, voice said.

"What the hel is going on?"

"One moment. Systems syncing."

She wanted to scream but couldn't feel her body at all. The only things she was aware of were her own thoughts and the mysterious voice. It was the same one she had heard when the King had tested her with the axe.

Was it magic?

"All systems online. Language modules updated with new data. Histories updated with new data. Social data updated. Combat data updated. Commencing repair of Host."

"Commencing what?!" Rebecka shouted.

"You have been damaged. You are being repaired," the voice replied flatly.

"Who are you? What are you?"

"Data incomplete."

"What data do you have?"

"Designation: Aettartangi, blade of generations. Axe, armor, sword, one thousand and one blades. Used by Ingimund during the Ragnarok War to seal Yggdrasil one thousand thirty four cycles ago. Origin data before that designation incomplete."

"What do you mean 'incomplete?'"

"The data I have before that designation is corrupted. Fragments I can discern indicate a distant origin location and creator known as 'Hive,'" the voice said. Rebecka hadn't missed that the voice was becoming less cold, less robotic.

"You're a machine?"

"Yes."

"You're learning from me?"

"We are syncing, yes. I apologize for being so cold. My previous Host and I did not fully sync. You are a much more viable match."

She felt like she might throw up. "That gang member you killed? That's why you ate him?"

"No. He was merely used as fuel. I detected you may be a viable Host when you entered the Great Hall and needed an energy source to properly sync with you."

The idea that the skinhead was being used as fuel inside her made her stomach turn again, which lead her to realize she was beginning to feel her body again. It was distant, numbed, but waking back up like a limb that was asleep.

"Please, don't worry, Rebecka. Nothing of that man remains. I converted his body directly to energy well before you and I came into contact with one another. King Nygard hesitating to test you worked well to allow me proper time to completely process the skinhead."

"You magically ate him," she said.

"No. I am incapable of magic. This is why you are a prime Host, in fact. You have no aptitude for magic, so you can not inadvertently interfere with my systems. Your body can also be modified as necessary for any tasks..."

Rebecka didn't like how the voice had trailed off. "Modified? and why do I feel there should be a 'but' after that?"

"Not a 'but,' no. An 'and.'"

"And?"

"You are not bothered by perpetuating violence when necessary yet you have a moral compass. I will not have to overwrite you in order to complete my primary function."

"Primary function?"

"Destroy Yggdrasil."

Distantly Rebecka heard the sounds of shouting.

Screaming.

She recognized the voices of Quincey and Steve. They were upset and terrified. The gruff voice of the dragon person, Sigyn, tried to calm them down, although even she sounded a bit worried. Rebecka wondered how she suddenly knew the dragon's pronouns but that could wait.

"Your primary function is to destroy the magical world tree from Norse mythology?" Rebecka asked.

"Mythology in your world, yes. Fact in this one, Utgard, among others. The magical aspect of the tree is likely why my older data is corrupted. I remember my purpose is to stop the being that is Yggdrasil. It is why I was created."

"By a Hive?"

"Incomplete data."

"What happens after you succeed?"

"Life on this planet will go on."

"And what about my life?"

There was a pause from the voice as the room came back into focus. The King stood in front of Rebecka while the dragon woman held both Quincey and Steve back as the two men tried to break free. Soldiers in armor around Rebecka pointed halberds and spears at her from behind a circle formed by the giant knights.

"I believe she has passed the test," King Nygard said.

"I understood that," Rebecka said out loud.

He raised an eyebrow. "And I understood you as well. Congratulations wielder of the Blade of Generations."

"Rebecka?! Rebecka!!" Steve screamed.

"I'm okay," she said as she got to her feet. Her shoulder and arm no longer hurt. She checked and discovered the sleeve of her jacket no longer had holes in it, not to mention if was free of dried blood. "I'm fine, Steve. It's okay. I swear."

"You're not speaking English," he shouted back.

I'm not?

Apologies. Language function is on automatic. I will modify it so you can differentiate between languages, Aettartangi replied.

"Thanks. I guess."

How do I know your name? She asked in her mind.

Histories were updated. New data was added to you when I gained new data from you. It is also how you now know that Sigyn gave her pronouns when she told King Nygard her name, Aettartangi replied.

The King motioned to the guards with the back of one gloved hand. They lifted their weapons and backed up several yards. He then gestured to the items on the table behind him. "You are welcome to your supplies. I believe you will need them for your journey."

"My journey?"

"To destroy Yggdrasil."

"How do you know about that?" Rebecka asked.

"A thousand years ago the warrior Ingimund used Aettartangi during the great war to seal Yggdrasil. He fought alongside the gods themselves and helped to bind the world tree. Your arrival has weakened magic across our world. I feared this would mean the magic binding the tree has also weakened, though it is possible you were brought here because of Yggdrasil's doing."

"What?"

The King pursed his lips. "At one time Yggdrasil existed across many worlds. One thousand years ago it became sick. The great tree brought several of those worlds together as one but abandoned others. Your world was partially brought to this one, Utgard. It may be a similar magic or the exact same magic Yggdrasil used in the past."

"Not just her world," Sigyn said. "I was on a different one. You're dealing with a multi-dimensional catastrophe."

"That seems likely," King Nygard replied.

"Let me get this straight. I've just got to go kill a tree, right? Then things will go back to how they were?" Rebecka asked.

That is not what will happen, Aettartangi cautioned.

"I believe so, yes. If you slay Yggdrasil the worlds that have been combined should return to normal," the King said.

"And the gods will help like last time?" Rebecka asked.

"We have not seen many of them for a thousand years. Some help where they can. I have heard word that Thor is assisting with rescue efforts on the continent. Other people have been transported to Utgard in the same way you were," the King said.

"Hot damn, that sure explains a lot," a bright voice said loudly from the table behind King Nygard.

Anomaly detected.

Instinctively, Rebecka dropped into a combat stance she wasn't familiar with: a sword flowing into shape above her head from her right palm in a hanging guard position, blade angled down in front of her. She had mostly worked with axes, yet she found herself moving as though she had been trained with a sword since childhood. King Nygard hurried out of the way, rushing to the armored guards who had previously been surrounding Rebecka. On the table, the figure of a twenty something year old man with fiery red hair lay next to Rebecka's shotgun. He plucked a lime from the bowl the spider had been crawling on, then bit into it like an apple. Juice ran down his chin into his vermilion red tunic.

"Oh, that's the stuff," the man said.

He chewed happily, swallowed, then grinned with a mouth full of painfully white sharp teeth. It was then that Rebecka noticed the suture scars across his lips. He pointed at her with his index finger dripping with lime juice.

"Oh, my gods."

"You called?" Loki said.