Solveig the Great, Pt. 3

Suddenly, standing in this perilous position, Solveig didn't feel too confident about her abilities anymore.

Especially now that she was alone.

"HELP!" Solveig cried. "ERLING?!"

There was no response. How could there be? Solveig hadn't told him or anyone where she was going. And the last place you wanted to be was caught between goblins and giants mid-fight.

The goblins were decidedly ecstatic to see her panic, it seemed. And soon, they started advancing.

Crud… What can I do, what can I do?!

Nothing. Because going back outside was a deathtrap. Staying and fighting was her only option.

Solveig steeled herself.

Again, the stench of their breath hit her as they closed in.

If I am a hero-to-be, like my mother and father before me, then I must act.

So when one of the goblins charged forward, club raised, Solveig didn't delay any longer.

"FIREBALL!"

This time, at least, her mana finally decided to cooperate with her.

BLAST!!!

The goblin took it square in the torso and went flying back, slamming into the side of a house hard enough to shake loose hay off the roof.

For a moment, Solveig's eyes lit up. She took short, hysterical breaths. She could really do this.

But when the goblin picked itself back up and started limping toward her again, that hope was faded as fast as it came.

She aimed again.

"F-Fireball!"

She'd thought, since casting hurt so much, it would at least finish the job. It didn't.

The thing just kept getting back up.

"Come on!!!"

She was inching closer and closer to the gate now, close enough that she had to wonder if something was waiting just beyond it. Solveig didn’t get to think about it for long.

Because, without warning, one of them broke rank and lunged.

The air was not knocked out of her. "AH!"

The goblin was on her in an instant, slamming her to the ground.

"Get off get off get—ugh!"

The first swing of the club caught her square in the stomach. For a few long seconds, she couldn't breathe at all. Then the second swing came, straight down.

Something burned at the back of her throat, tears swelled—she gasped, choked, gasped again, but no air would come!

“Stop…!”

The moment she saw the goblin smile was when she let out a guttural scream.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please stop—!!”

She shielded her eyes as the goblin went for her throat.

No… no! Neck guarding, neck guarding, like how Daddy taught—GRK!!!

Slobber rained down on her face, into her eyes, her mouth, as the goblin pushed harder, harder, its weight crushing down on her forearms.

Darkness crept in at the edges of her vision. Bubbly spit ran from the corner of her mouth, snot trailing from her face onto the ground. She grabbed at the creature, clawed at its head and eyes, punched, punched, fought until there was nothing left to fight with.

Then, just as the last of the light nearly slipped from her eyes, the goblin found itself in a distressing predicament.

SHLK!

Because its skull had split apart in an instant, and with it, its grip would cease.

“GAHHH!!!”

Solveig’s body instinctively gulped a torrential gust of air, and not before long she’d cough her lifeblood away, splattering on the dirt.

She crawled on all fours, away from the creature, shoving it off her.

But… as it turned out… the goblin was the least of her worries.

“URGH!”

Her hair was yanked back by someone multiple times stronger than her.

“What did I tell you?” the gruff voice said. “WHAT DID I TELL YOU?!”

She didn’t need to open her eyes to know who it was. But she opened them anyway, and there he was, standing by the gates with the rest of the returning warband behind him, bloodied, bruised, mighty even in exhaustion.

And they were all watching. Every single one of them.

Solveig felt her face go hot. “Wait, please—I can explain, just stop freaking out—”

“I swear to the gods, if you lie to me again…”

Erling and the rest of the kids arrived at the scene. “There you… are.”

His words trailed off the moment he saw her.

"Erling!” Daddy cried. “Now there's a boy with some sense. A boy who knows to HIDE FROM DANGER!"

“Daddy, it’s—it’s not what you think. They—the goblins, they found him, and I…”

“Then why wasn’t Erling here, if you claim you were only trying to help him?”

Erling spoke up. “Sir, she didn’t—”

“Not now, Erling!” Daddy spat. “Don’t think I forgot the pain you caused my daughter. No, this is between her and I alone.”

“I didn’t fight them, though!” Solveig pleaded, tagging at his sleeves. “I did the right thing—I brought them here, I brought them to you!”

Then, inexplicably Daddy started laughing.

“I don’t believe it. Even after all this time, my daughter thinks her old man will fall for anything so long as she’s the one saying it.”

Why wouldn’t the words form in her head, why couldn’t she talk like normal, why couldn’t she just explain things clearly?!

"Then let me take this seriously for you," Daddy began. "Come your next nameday, you won't be following Erling and the rest of the children on our raids. That's right. No more training, no more expeditions, no more lessons! You get to sit around and think about your mistakes for the rest of your life!"

Solveig shook her head. "Daddy, you don’t understand. I did the right thing! I did! I just wanted to help, to be a hero!”

“You aren’t a hero and you will NEVER be one!”

…

…What?

Where there had once been murmurs among the warriors, there was now only the corpse of silence. Even the wind seemed to lose its nerve.

"You want to know the truth?" her dad said. "You don't have an ounce of talent for heroism in you. I should have told you that from the start, instead of letting you believe otherwise. I'm sorry I led you on, but that's the whole truth of it.

“You need to stop trying, Solveig. Because every time you push yourself like this, you put other people in danger. Seeing you hurt yourself when you don’t need to hurts me and your mother more than I could ever put into words. Not everyone needs to be a hero to be useful, okay? So stop, please—for your sake!"

CRACK!!!

Her muscles went weak. One by one—her knees, her hands, the little muscles in her fingers that had been clenched into fists. Her vision started to blur at the edges, the warband and the gate and her father's face all smearing together into shapes of red.

Eyes… eyes upon eyes upon eyes in every direction. Mom was watching, chief among the evaluators and truth knowers of exactly what kind of girl she was.

Something white hot ignited in her chest, spreading fast, faster than she could stop. It felt exactly like that day, back at the training grounds. Except bigger now. So much bigger.

Then, white light began to bleed through her skin, faint at first, like she was turning translucent from the inside out.

She was panting now. Unable to pull in a single full breath, no matter how hard she tried.

"What's wrong?!" Her father's voice, but different now.

"It hurts… I can’t… help me, please, Daddy! I'm scared!"

Hands were on her then, closing around her shoulders. She got brighter, and brighter still.

"Baby, Solveig, it's okay. It’s okay…”

“PLEASE... I'm scared...! Daddy…!!!”

“I love you. I love you so much…”

Then, for a few seconds, all the color the world knew was white.

\\

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Solveig felt real groggy.

"Mommy? Daddy?"

There was no response.

When she opened her eyes and stretched her hands and feet, she found the most peculiar sight.

The fact that there was... nothing near her anymore. She was laying on the bed of a very large, circular disk of dirt.

The path she knew, the well, the fence line where the goats used to bleat until someone fed them—none of it made sense anymore. Her village was nowhere to be found.

Then she thought of the unthinkable. Oh no! Did they move on without me?!

It was a real fear, you know! Mommy and Daddy told her that children who were very naughty got left behind. And she was very naughty when she decided to save Erling like that.

She turned in a slow circle.

Where the village should have been, the ground simply wasn't there anymore. It was as if something enormous had reached down with a spoon and scooped the world out in one clean, curving motion. The outline was made of glass. It looked like mana residue, but no one used mana when Daddy got back as far as she knew...

How strange!

She took a step toward the rim of it.

"Solveig."

That was... that was Uncle's voice. Huh?

There he was, standing on the main road that led to the village.

Why was he here?

He was standing at the edge, exactly where the ground gave way to nothing, and he wasn't moving. The man looked petrified, frozen the way she'd seen frogs freeze when a shadow passed overhead.

"Uncle?" she tried.

He didn't answer right away. When he finally spoke, it wasn't to her.

"Null magic…" he whispered.

\\

UNCLE HRAFEN

Solveig hadn't stopped talking since the tree line, and Hrafen hadn't found it in himself to make her.

"I hate them! I hate them! I hate them!"

Her small hand was locked around two of his fingers, swinging their joined arms with every furious step.

"Why would they leave me, Uncle Hrafen? They just packed up and left without telling me! Daddy held me, you know. He told me everything was going to be okay. But that was a lie. A white lie."

He said nothing.

Gods forgive me.

Brother, forgive me.

"They were jealous of me. Of my power. That's why they hated me. Because they never understood, and because they think I'm useless, they left me all alone! They gave up! And what about you, huh? They need to help you too, the Demon King isn't just going to go away on its own!"

He kept walking. One foot, then the other, his fortress still a grey smudge on the horizon, still hours off.

Every version of the truth sat right behind his teeth, ready. She hadn't been abandoned. She hadn't been left because she was too much. Her father hadn't left her; his brother had been holding her when it happened.

"But you understand, don't you, Uncle? You'll help me, right? Help me lots?"

She looked up at him with an expression so raw that something in his chest simply gave out.

"Solveig." His voice came out steadier than he had any right to expect. "I swear to you. You will be the most powerful mage to ever walk this plane."

It wasn't a lie, exactly. It just wasn't the whole truth either. He'd learned, in the space of one terrible afternoon, that there was a version of loving someone that meant handing them a smaller, kinder world to stand inside of, and letting them believe, for as long as they possibly could, that it was the real one.

"I love you, Uncle! Thank you! Please, take care of me!"

"Always," he said, and meant it more than he'd meant anything in years, and hated himself a little more with every step.