The portal opens several feet above the floor, and I stumble as I land on my uneven feet. Thanks to the white boot, I was reborn crippled. But I was reborn free.

I look around, and I'm back to the Danelaw Courthouse where I was judged. Back in Nidavellir. The room is completely dark, the semicircle stands empty, and the podium is bare of the large books of law. I take a single limping step, and it echoes back like a whispered secret.

"I... I'm back," I stammer, whirling around at my surroundings. Such darkness, so unlike the bright white and dreadful colors of my cell and scrubs. So welcoming, unlike the moments in my childhood where I wished for a candle when facing the darkness. Now, rather, I feel comforted by the folds of dark's guise.

"What now?" asks Rhys impatiently. "What's the first thing you're going to do, now that you're away from that place?"

I pause, considering. Then I have an inspiration, and I give something like a smile for the first time in six Svartalfheim months.

"I am going to burn these clothes."

Not even a half hour later, I'm using the courthouse candles to burn my prison scrubs to ashes. I stay well away from the fire that I make, a large jug of holy water ready in case it gets out of hand. The clothes will go to Helheim, but not the person they were meant for.

Once the fire dies, starved once the clothes it ate were gone, I rise and leave. I have stolen the courtly clothes used by the kvitr, which are gloriously black. They usually wear black, long-sleeved shirts and dark trousers. Of course, none of the sets I checked in the back of the courthouse are my size. But I am glad for the extra room provided, and no one will be able to see them with Severinus's cloak worn on top of them.

After everything that's happened, I feel none too inclined to don colors of any kind.

I am out in the open air and I gasp, shielding my eyes that are bombarded by the sight. For what's known as the Dark World, it's brighter than I remember. I slowly remove my hands, and I gaze at the world I left in awe. Blinding white glowtrees in heavy clumps, desperately clinging to the cave ceiling. Giant luminous lantern-shrooms that stand at attention in perfectly straight lines going from the courthouse to the main road. Blue-gray speckled stones making up the road itself, leading to the Business District. I can see hamr walking along the austere grey sidewalks, moving like slow bubbles in a frothing stream in and out of shops. And I can hear the hum of the united sounds of hamr talking, bird hamr calling in crooning trills, doors opening and their bells clanging. 

I take a single step towards it all, and I stumble because of my bad foot. I slip off of the stairs, my head colliding with each confounded step before I finally land on the ground face-first.

"Gods damn!" Are my first words in this blessed new world.

--

I rub my head as I walk atop the cobblestones out of the Business District where the courthouse is.

"Where are you going?" Rhys hisses. "You're not who you were anymore. You can't expect to go back to the place you lived before, not with that new face of yours."

I stop walking and glare at him as he weaves his head in front of my face.

"I cannot stay in the courthouse forever. What do you suggest I do?" I inquire with a scowl.

"Answer me," he demands in a low voice. "Where are you going?"

"I don't answer to you! You're not in charge of me!"

"I saved you," he snarls at me. "I brought you back from the light. Do you remember it? The blinding white light, the way the manacles would glow from the heat. Around your wrists, ankles, neck, burning and frying the skin off your flesh. Do you remember the smell, Severin? The way you would choke on it, the way it burned your eyes until you were nearly blind? If I were to guess, you don't want to go back, which will happen if I think you've outlived your usefulness. Now do yourself a favor and tell me what you were planning, gargan."

"I. . . I. . . "

I was going to Latham's house. I was going to confront him and ask him if he remembered Razan Eldr. I was going to ask where he was on that day on the bridge, what he was doing on the day of my trial, whether he'd been thinking of me since. I was going to find out why he wasn't there for me.

Rhys glares right into my mind as if he were reading my thoughts, and didn't like them one bit.

"No one knows you or cares about Razan," he hisses slowly. "And if you remind them, then you're going right back to Svartalfheim, where you damn well belong."

I clench my fists before remembering the last time I acted on anger. The reason I went to Svartalfheim at all. The blow, the crack, then the fall. Adr's mangled body bouncing lightly on the stones before stilling. Then I lower my head.

"Why does it bother you? If you care so much about getting away from that place, then you can go. I don't need you any more than you need me now that we've completed our ends of the deal."

"You Jörmungandr-damned idiot," he snarls at me, "Our deal was that I'd help you escape, and then you'd take me with you."

"I took you with me. You're here, are you not?" I motion around me with outstretched hands.

"I didn't say until we escaped, I never specified. And so I specify now: You will take me with you wherever you go until I find you either completely useless or dead where you stand."

"I did not--You never said--!"

"No, I didn't. And you know what? I don't care," he sneers smugly. "Besides, it works out for the both of us. You're a hamr without a bind, meaning that you can't shift at all until you get a new one. I'm a magic talking snake, so I wouldn't be able to go anywhere without being hunted unless I'm with a person to claim ownership of me. Face it kid, we need each other whether we like it or not."

I can't believe it. I was played a fool for six months, right into the ploy of a talking, legless conniving--

"Don't look at me like that," says Rhys. "You know it's true. Besides, do you have anyone else? Name someone besides me that would break you out of prison."

I am good and ready to name every single one of my friends until I finally remember that they're gone. Or, rather, that I am gone to them. They remain, only I am someone else. The one who was their friend is no more.

Rhys crawls into my hood, hiding inside my--Severinus's--cloak.

How long have I wanted to call something mine? My cot. My cell. My escape. My cloak.

Yet not mine in the least.

"You must make a choice," hisses Rhys. "You can continue with your worthless life. You can go back into the dark where you were born, using your new face to its extent, hiding, thieving, living off the streets and dodging the ones who will know you from the rune around your neck, not as a person but as the scum that killed Severinus. You can stay here. Or you can come with me, and become someone who matters."

I'm silent for a while. Rhys's words hit harder than I care to say. "So what would happen, if I choose to come with you?"

I can feel Rhys shiver with excitement, and I cannot help but feel a thrill myself when I hear his next words.

"We would get the Helheim out of here. Nidavellir would never know Severin of the Dirt. We'll go to Midgard, where both you and I could have fresh starts."

"Midgard!" I had heard stories about the place long before going on the class field trip that had fueled my love for its light—the sort of light that I now fear.

It's a land of humans and semi-humans and humanoids of every shape and size. Of magic and of foreign gods, of people who speak different tongues and write different runes. Where dark elves walk among the light, where trolls write poems and are adored and not feared. Where those without magic make their own, with these metal wands that spit metal or boxes that sting like electric eels. While technology comes from Alfheim and magic hails from Nidavellir, equality is sung and praised in Midgard.

"Midgard," I say the wondrous word again. "How would we get there?" Then something comes to mind. "How did we get out of Svartalfheim at all? How is this possible?"

I feel Rhys's coils shift around my shoulders, and his voice is full of pride when he answers. "I spent years in there--Nidavellir years, mind you--studying the guards and memorizing their rounds. Severinus used to be my bind, but he left me there in the cell."

I stiffen and recall how many times he pressed that I take him with me. I no longer feel angry at him. I think I understand now: everyone is forgotten at some point. But we were completely erased from the memories of people we trusted. It makes sense that we stick close to each other, to remind the other that we're still there, if no one else will. I am here. Here I am. And there will always be someone there to listen, even if we are strangers still.

"As for how we'll get into Midgard, you're just going to have to trust me."

"That's strange, coming from you."

"If you can't trust me, then you can't trust anyone. If you can't trust anyone, then you will always be alone with your thoughts and memories." 

I can feel him moving along my collarbone, and I shiver again at the unfamiliar feeling. "What do you mean?"

"You know what's going to happen when you're alone, Severin. You remember what happened in the cell? I know that you felt pain when I stopped talking to you. You'll just keep feeling it over and over, day by day unless you run away. And I can help you. I can help you escape. I did before. Do you have any reason not to trust me?"

"No," I whisper. "I don't. I'll trust you, Rhys, and I'll go with you, until you betray me."

I feel his hold loosen, and I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding.

"Fair enough. You can trust me just as long as I keep my word, and I'll trust you as long as you keep yours. Until then, we're stuck with each other. Deal?"

I nod. "All right. And Midgard?"

He shivers again. "I give you directions. You follow them. And may the gods help us."

--

I walk on the bridge from the Business District to the Residential District when I see the same group of boys from before. Huge, hulking, lips pulled back as if in grimaces. The same violent light in their eyes, their knuckles either up or hanging low like that of gorillas. I look around, and it's a different bridge. Different path. I look up to study them.

Different leader.

"Hey, kid. There's an income tax and he needs a troll to pay for the bridge." He says thickly, as if speaking with a mouth full of paste.

Fabulous. How completely, perfectly, fabulous. I am irked, and I want to reprimand these buffoons, these--these dim-witted pieces of trash. Do they not remember? Do they not learn? I want to tell them all, I want to scream at them, until Adr's crushed head  flashes in front of my eyes. Who am I kidding? Why even try?

The fire in me goes out like a candle flame facing a winter gust, and I lower my head in submission. "Very well."

I walk right past them to the bridge with my head up, sliding down the side of the bank as carefully as I can with my bad foot. I go down the slope until I'm under the bridge. Then I bolt to the other side, and I can hear the voices behind me as I wade through the water and up the other side of the river. I climb up the slope with my sodden cloak with the shouting ringing behind me.

"Ya dint pay im! Ya dint pay im!"

I curse as my foot slips from beneath me, and I scramble over the stone railing and collapse on the other side. I crawl several feet before pushing myself up and running as fast as I can. Fire shoots up my leg from my foot and I gasp as I try not to fall over.

I don't look back as I hobble into an alley, praying to all the gods I can think of that they will not reach me.

Lord Freyr, Lady Freyja, Lord Odin, Lord Frigg, Lord Tyr, Lord Ullr. . . please, all of you, any of you, don't let all of this be for nothing. Don't let them kill me before I've even lived a day in this new life.

I close my eyes as the yells grow louder, and footfalls echo on cobblestone as the harmr boys near my location. Rhys buries himself deeply into my hood. Some help he is.

"You." The new leader, an auburn boy with a large and elongated face, is not even panting. 

"A horse hamr, Jörmungandr damn it," Rhys hisses, "You can never outrun him."

"Then what do I do?" I whisper back.

"Shift, idiot."

I grind my teeth with nervous impatience as I answer, "I don't know how!"

I back away slowly as the harmr boys approach. I cry out as I trip backwards over a pile of used torch stubs. They roll away as I try and fail to get up with my foot slipping beneath me.

The group comes nearer, and I scramble backwards like a skittering crab. Two small figures appear behind them, casting shadows longer than they are tall.

"Hey, horsey! What the Helheim do ya think you're doing to that girl?!"

My eyes widen as they register the pair of small children standing at the entrance of the alley, bold as brass. One of them has burnt-brown curly hair, and is standing with their chest out as if inflated with confidence. At first, I think it's Razan, my past self back from the dead, with the huge, golden eyes shining from underneath dark brown bangs.

The hamr boys turn to look at the children. Besides the girl-that-looks-like-Razan is a dark, curly-haired boy that appears smart enough to not want to be there.

There's still time. Go. Run. Get as far away from here as you can. Pray to the gods that what comes will be nothing like what I endured. Then bless the gods that you won't end up like me.

Instead, he stands firmly by what appears to be his sister. His sister points at the boys and declares:

"Let her go, dummies! Or we'll beat you to the ground!"

The boys turn fully and stalk to the two children. I watch from behind, speechless and completely horrified.

"Go now," Rhys hisses, "They're distracted. Go now, get away!"

I watch, frozen with appall as the boys near the children. I hear them push the girl to the ground, and the familiar roar sounds in my ears. I see her flail, and I am reminded of that day on the bridge.

"Go!" Rhys's voice fades slowly as I rise to my feet. "What are you waiting for, idiot? You have nothing to do with these kids. Thank the gods that they're not focused on you anymore, and leave!"

"Rhys," I say firmly, "I am grateful, and I will never forget what you did for me. But I. . ."

The boy comes to his sister's rescue, and is slammed against the wall as his face is pounded like a drum. The girl is screaming, and I am again reminded of the cries that were made at the sight of the mangled Adr.

I pick up one of the torch stubs and swing it at the boys.

"I can't walk away! I can't do it!" I scream, and my vision splits as if into different lenses as my eyes fall under a red veil. My thoughts dull, and my body moves on its own.

I have fallen under the frenzy once more, just like last time.

I crack each of the boys on the head as hard as I possibly can, and there's a scramble for the stub I am holding. One of them swings a fist at me, but my head is no longer there as I suddenly shift into a snake without thinking. I slip between his legs and shift back into a human, thwacking him on the back of the head with my fist. Then I take my stub back up and simply hammer the leader until he falls to the ground. 

Once he is down, I start kicking him, and I don't stop until the two kids grab me from behind. They restrain my limbs, and I struggle from their grubby child hands. I'm too lost in the frenzy to think of stopping now.

"Let go of me! Let go!"

"Stop, stop it! He's already down, just stop!"

My leg lifts a final time, and my other foot slides from beneath me as I fall to the ground. The two kids support me with my arms wrapped around their shoulders as the red fades and my mind clears and my injuries return in full force. I try to shake out of their grasp, irritated.

"Let go of me! I don't need your help!"

The girl shrugged, promptly dropping me on the ground. "Okay."

I groan in pain as I crumple, holding my head and wishing that my foot would stop trying to wrench itself free of my leg. The girl picks me back up again, and helps me out of the alley with her brother's help.

"Where are you taking me?" I ask.

"Home," The boy says simply. "Mom can. . . can fix you up."

I open my mouth to argue, but a squeak of pain comes out instead as my bad foot hits a rock. So I let them half-drag, half-support me all the way to the center of the Residential District, where there's a small one-story house with a single glowtree seedling in front. Once inside, I am set down on a stiff couch while the girl calls their mother. A weary-looking woman emerges from the kitchen, her hair stringy and her hands soaking wet as she dries them on her apron.

We make eye contact, and I notice her red-brown hair, her citrine yellow eyes, her slightly crooked nose with a bump. All nearly identical to that of her daughter, the girl who reminded me of Razan.

All a complete match with the features of who I was before.

"Miss?" I croak, and her eyes set on me. "Who are you? What's your name?"

Could you be who I think you are? After all these years, could I have found you only after the death of Razan? Gods, if I had only known how close I was all this time. A brother! A sister! How differently I would have lived, if I had only known!

"You have some nerve for asking me that in my own house," she says coldly. "Who are you?"

I am silent. Then I open my mouth again, hesitant.

"If you are who I think you are, then I am who you once made."

I see her tan face pale.

"Oh, gods."

She nears me as if transfixed by the sight of me. I instinctively draw back like a turtle in its shell. She collapses to her knees in front of me, and my eyes widen as she keeps speaking.

"Oh gods, oh gods, it's you after all these years. I could have never imagined."

She looks up at me with tears in her eyes, and everything in me goes cold at her next words.

"I never imagined that you'd live this long. I thought you were dead. You're supposed to be--" She pauses immediately, but I know enough about the world to fill in the blanks.

I sit there, frozen with the brisk words. She voices them somberly, but they are like a flurry of ice that wraps around me. I thought you dead. You were supposed to be dead. My sight flashes to the history books I'd read, books of the truth and of the past and of now. Abortion. Abandonment.

Infanticide.

Drowning.

Or even burning.

Eldr, I was dubbed. Named for the fire that never killed me.

She had thought me dead because I was meant to be dead.

"You're my--you were--I. . . " I choke it out of me, and I stop. 

You were my mother.

You tried to kill me.

She nods, and the other kids are waggling their heads around in confusion. The girl seems to understand some, but thankfully not all of it as she throws her arms around me.

"I have a sister! I have a sister! What's your name?"

I pull her off of me, gasping for breath.

"Severin. Severin of the Dirt."

She and her brother stand in front of me, all smiles.

"I'm Nydia," says the girl, "And this is my--our--brother, Sabian!"

They sit beside me as the woman that was my mother tends to my foot and a new gash on the back of my head that I never realized was there. Not to mention the scrapes from climbing all over the banks under the bridge. The cloak is forced off of me, and I'm given the woman's dark clothing to wear underneath. Thankfully, my fancy for black resonates well with her wardrobe.

I'm sitting on the couch with Nydia and Sabian as they chatter nonstop into my ears. I'm not even listening, I'm simply staring up at the ceiling, deeply thinking about the past and everything that could have happened before that I could have ended up here as Razan and not Severin. The woman approaches me again, and I look up.

I don't know how or what to think of her. Should I be angry? Solemn? Passive? Grim? Should I be joyous to finally see her?

"You can't stay here," she interrupts my thoughts. "I have a husband, and he'll be home soon. Where are you going?"

Not my mother, I decide, merely the mother of my siblings. Nydia and Sabian had nothing to do with any of this. 

"Midgard," I answer. Rhys had been silent the entire time, and is stiff around my shoulders as I put on the cloak.

"The Midgard Portal is forbidden. But I can take you there so long as you promise me that you won't come back," she says.

I swallow my heart as it leaps into my throat.

"Very well."

She motions to my siblings. "I can't leave them in the house by themselves. Let's go, Nydia, Sabian."

They come with us out of the house, following behind like a pair of ducklings as they squabble about something trivial. We reach a small, darkened building with shadowy columns and a low, marble roof. There's a gate around it, and barbed wire strung on top. I walk up the steps with a limp, dragging my bad foot behind me. I face the gate with a pensive expression as I search for a weakness of some sort.

"You can shift now," Rhys whispers. "I can help you shift so that you can crawl under the wire."

I nod, preparing to transform when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn to face Nydia.

"What is it?"

She holds her hand, offering me two small silver rings and a large black stone. One ring is a thin band of metal and the other is tiny and thick.

"I can't take these," I say.

"They're me and Sabian's shift rings. They call us to whoever needs us. All you need to do is read the words on this stone. They'll appear when you try to call us."

"Does your mother know?"

"Mom doesn't know. Please don't tell her."

She gives me a pleading look, and I accept her gifts just to placate her. I don't plan on ever using them. And to keep true to the promise I made to the woman, I will never see my siblings again otherwise.

"Thank you, Nydia."

Goodbye, sister.

I hastily shift into a snake, crawl under the fence, and shift back as a human to walk into the building. There is another circle carved into the floor, and I stand in the middle.

"I had a family all this time," I mutter to Rhys.

He gives no answer as the blue sphere flashes, and the Nidavellir ground disappears from underneath my feet.