Event: Eric's Birth

Prelude Part 5: Birth October 4999, OTT

Eric Thor Olafson is born during the coldest night of a Longnight winter of Nilfeheim October 18th 4999 OTT.

His mother was Ilva Olafson (Ragnarsson)

His father Isegrim Olafson

During that very nanosecond of his birthing, the essence of the Dark One merges with the Essence of Eric Olafson and becomes one. Tyr, the White Tyranno merges the essence of Eric's Twin sister (causing her to be dead born) with Eric.

Freya Olafson is born dead.

Erik Gustav had arrived once more on the planet of his birth. This time he had not taken the Space Bus but came with his own brand new luxury yacht, the Silver Falcon. A terrible snowstorm obscured everything behind a whirling flurry of white. The two massive snow removers fought a losing battle. The Clarion 7, his seventy-meter yacht, had just landed and already wore a thick cover of snow and so did the Volvo Flyer that waited not far from the landing ramp. He girded Mjördaren and then stomped through the snow and bitterly cold wind. A figure thickly wrapped in furs stood by the flyer and greeted him with a muffled voice. "Hail Lord of the Ragnarsson clan and welcome home." Erik Gustav knew of course who the man was and recognized the muffled voice. "Hail Orkning it is good to be home indeed." Erik Gustav climbed into the flyer, and so did his trusted warrior. Reinhold, another retainer, sat behind the controls. Erik Gustav greeted the usually very silent man and realized how fast he had gotten used to the always mild weather of Pluribus, as he was glad to be inside the flyer. He settled into the leathers, and then he noticed the flyer's bar. Something or someone more than likely used extreme force to open it. "Orkning what has caused this damage?" "The brutish Isegrim, thinking he owns all that is Ragnarsson my Liege. He uses what he wants and what is locked away he breaks. He commands, gives orders and yet not even the Elders have confirmed him as the new Chief of the Olafsons. It is not just this compartment he has damaged. Much has been destroyed, tarnished and besmirched because our Lord Poopnjerk decreed that we must bow to creatures we should exterminate instead!" Erik Gustav sighed. "Volund was a true Viking, and I saw so much promise in this union. Reinhold, I hear thy complaint. All that happens between the walls of my old burg reaches my ears, yet oaths bind me, and I can not break them. If someone breaks them, then there are no oaths to uphold. My honor and our traditions come before all else. Even the short sight of a foolish old man and the hardship he caused his wonderful daughter." Reinhold grunted, and with a short nod he said, "Aye not even I want thee to break thy oaths, I have much reason to hate you my liege, and yet I am also honor-bound to thee and a Ragnarsson warrior I am." Erik Gustav reached forward and put his hand on the man's shoulder. " The loss I caused you weighs heavy on my mind, if you name the price, I shall pay it. Honor is always first." The three men repeated as if speaking with one voice, "Honor, First." These words of profound meaning became the creed of the Ragnarsson clan almost 3000 years ago. The Ragnarsson clan Chief said after a moment of silence, "While Isegrim becoming clan chief is most likely a foregone conclusion, I have and will take steps that make his rule over Ragnarsson treasures is limited and short. Now tell me how is my daughter?" "She is as pregnant as a bloater fish, my liege, still as radiant as the Shortsummer sun itself. The midwife thinks it is any time now." He leaned forward. "Reinhold make haste." He then pulled back the cuff of his gauntlet style gloves and revealed a GalNet enabled PDD and said, "System, connect me with my friend Aaron Silverzweig." To Orkning he said, "This is a good friend of mine, a lawyer and law professor. He specializes in analyzing the law structures of alien societies, and he studied the Book of Traditions." The Viking Warrior was true to his liege and clan Chief, but he resented the fact that Erik Gustav was off planet more often than home and he did not even want to understand or hear anything about Off World things. "Your place is here, my liege and not at a faraway place beyond the skies. What business do you, what business do we Neo Vikings have there anyway. We need them not!" "Orkning, you are a good man and one I trust with my life, but as much as we want to, we can not remain completely isolated. For all our strength, we are nothing compared to what is out there, and I am the one standing guard much like Heimdahl stands guard at the gates of Asgard. It is not a task that is easy or popular, but once a man sees dangers that could threaten his home, he must do all he can to stand firm against them. Do you know what would happen without me being there at Pluribus?" Orkning glared at his chief. "Everything that happens out there and does not concern us." "We have been pirates and could not stand against the Union. Invaded by the Nogoll, and we would not be here if it were not for the Union Fleet." Orkning laughed. "Those goat faces rejects? We killed them all, those treacherous bastards.!" "One Nogoll ship, an advanced recon group of only 260 Nogoll, our loss was over 2000 brave Viking. Aye, it was a great victory, but we could not have stood against the Nogoll if they sent more. It was the Union fleet preventing that from happening." Orkning was still not convinced. "They did that without you being there." "Do you remember the two Lowmen you killed about five years ago? Indeed you were drunk, and indeed you paid the Peerson clan for the loss." "I do remember, what business did they have to come into a tavern and stay?" "If I am not at Pluribus, defending and ensuring our way of life remains intact, then a Lowman could go to a Union Court and ask for his rights and declare you a murderer. After a fair trial, your punishment, death by hanging, of that I have no doubt. Three-quarters of all men of Niflheim would face similar fates. If Union law and Union police come to Niflheim, their executioners will have work for years!" Orkning had seen broadcasts of Federal executions, one of the few GalNet programs the Vikings liked to watch at the taverns. He too had gone to Union school and remembered the virtual excursions. He was a stubborn Viking, but suddenly he was glad Erik Gustav did prevent Union law arriving. He was stubborn like they all were, but he was not stupid. Erik Gustav nodded as he saw the light of understanding in Orkning's eyes. "I knew you might change your mind." Reinhold listened to the conversation and said nothing. He too was a trusted warrior, but he resented the Olafson business. He blamed his clan Chief for the death of his wife. A wife that died before she could give him a son. It was less than a decade ago in old Terran years when Erik Gustav was elected as the Representative of Niflheim and had left for Pluribus the first time. When Erik Gustav returned, he also carried a curse to this world, a microbe, a bacteria or something of that kind and while Erik Gustav was immune due to the treatments he had received Off World, while other worlds adhered to the stringent Union hygiene laws, Niflheim did not. The fever caused by the microbe spread fast, and before the decision was made to call the Union Doctor instead of trying more herbs and home remedies, it was too late. Hilda Hellstrom, the wife of Erik Gustavson and Gunhilde his wife had died, killed by an off-world disease. But hearing that made him think different as well. It was he who decided to delay calling the Union Doctor. His believed his hatred of everything off-world was all-consuming, built on a strong a passion for revenge. But mostly because it was fashionable and traditional to hate off-world things. His wife belonged to him. No strange off-worlder dare touch her. The Union Doctor had scolded him and told him how easy it would have been to save them all, Reinhold knew this haunted the Old Man, and grieved over the loss of his wife. Erik Gustav had loved his wife, his soulmate to a depth few if any understood. Reinhold found her death, however, a fitting punishment from the Gods for the man who brought the disease to Niflheim, with or without his knowledge in the first place. Reinhold would serve his master, but he was no longer the staunch defender of all that was Ragnarsson, and so he decided not to tell the Old Man what everyone knew, Volund did not die of an accident and that the upstart wimp, Isegrim, was bedding a Nubhir herder's daughter instead of having eyes only for his pregnant wife. No one could really remember a winter storm of such ferocity. Temperatures dropped to an unprecedented-99c, rarer still was the rumbling thunder and lightning. Erik Gustav could almost feel the atmosphere of mistrust and anticipation wafting like fog within the walls of Ragnarsson Rock. This was not how he envisioned the last days of his clan, and if he was honest to himself, he had to admit was not a good clan chief. A good manager was reachable and took care of his clan's needs and concerns. As a clan chief, he was a ruler, a protector, and a caretaker. As such, he performed poorly, not taking proper care of his charges. As much as he was a man of Niflheim rules and traditions, he also was a Union Citizen now. And no matter how many times he told himself how necessary his task was to be the Niflheim Representative, he knew the real reason was that he was intoxicated by Pluribus, by being a member of the Finance and Trade Council. Men like Rex Schwartz and Alex Enroe knew of him. He had the private access code to the President of the Union Bank and could call the old insect any time he wanted. He was invited to parties, rubbed shoulders with other Mega Tycoons, kings, queens and the representatives of other worlds. Being at the center of the mighty Union and being part of its government was intoxicating and addictive like nothing else. Other Reps used telepresence Avatars. They could even have hired a professional representative from one of the Representative Agencies, but those weren't options he considered. His grandfather was the first Ragnarsson looking outward and started the little company called Silver Hawks Emporium. His father expanded it by adding a mining operation on Balder, planet. But it was him that indeed made it a successful company with revenues reaching billions of credits. All this went through his mind as he sat in his old chair before the massive fireplace in the Lord's Hall and stared into to the orange flames licking around the Tyranno oil-drenched Soak Stones. Next to him sat five Elders and together they waited for Isegrim Olafson. They had summoned Isegrim with expectations of a timely response to his summons. Instead, they waited for over an hour before they saw Isegrim Olafson come up to the High Halls. The son of Volund, so it appeared, had grown even more significant than the last time he remembered. Instead of a sword, he wore a coiled whip and his beard was not braided, but an open mess of black curls. He wore the clan Chief Necklace of the Olafsons and the red fur-trimmed cloak Erik Gustav had given Volund as a gift not so long ago. Isegrim planted himself with crossed arms before the three Elders. "The Elders summoned me, and here I am." Erik Gustav said. "We expected you to heed my call over an hour ago, but you being tardy had been a problem even when your father was alive." "I have chores and work. I am not an idle man." "That is a good sentiment indeed. Maybe it will suit you well if you hire out to another clan to cast nets or help them scrub Nubhir hides. You are the husband of my beloved daughter, but don't test me again." Isegrim glared at the older man. "Are you retracting from thy contract and word?" "No Isegrim, never has a Ragnarsson retracted a word given. I wanted to make sure you know the full extent of that contract, once the Elders have completed their business with you." The Ragnarsson chief motioned to the other Elders. "Now pay your respects to the Elders as it is tradition and just, or do you reject our laws and traditions?" "I live by it." Isegrim bowed and greeted the Elders as it was required. "I have a wife that is close to giving birth, the joys of fatherhood awaiting me and I intend not to miss a moment of it." One of the elders said, "According to our laws and traditions, I ask you here and now, do you intend to become the Clan Chief of the Olafson? Are you going to ask the Circle present to confirm ye?" "Of course, I am the firstborn, and no one challenges me." "You are aware of all the implications? You are then not only speaking for thyself but all Olafson. You are to sit in the company of Chiefs at the great council and all contracts, bonds, and pledges made in the name of the Olafson clan before you are binding to you." "Of course I know it all. I was born to this! I shall abide by the laws and traditions and accept the bonds, contracts, and pledges made by those who came before me, so I swear upon the Spear of Odin." "Then it shall be so." All the old men rose from their chairs, and the same Elder declared, "You are hereby declared Chief of the Olafson clan, and all thy peer shall recognize you as such. Your word represents how all understand and perceive that which is Olafson, your will is that of the clan." One of the Elders handed him the clan Leader Seal Ring that had been collected by them from Volund's hand. "This is your last chance to step back. To wear the ring seals your oath now and forever." Isegrim grunted and put the ring on his finger, and his victorious grin was showing despite his beard. Erik Gustav however also smiled. "Of course, one of the contracts and pledges you just confirmed is this one. " The Ragnarsson Chief produced a leather bound folder with the seals of the two clans upon it. "This is the very contract I have made with Volund and the Olafson clan. It bears the seal placed there by the very ring you now wear. Therefore the terms of the agreement bind you completely, do you accept." Isegrim waved his hand. "Of course, and I know it designates the Clan Chief of the Olafsons, the lord over this burg and all that it represents, is that not the case Old Man?" "Almost, Isegrim, almost but not quite. It makes the first born son that comes forth between your union to Ilva Ragnarsson the sole inheritor of it all, both Olafson and Ragnarsson and he will be Lord over it all. You are, like Volund, just a steward." Isegrim was neither concerned nor surprised. "I know that too, but he will be my son, and this is Niflheim. He is born and whatever I decide will be his and what I want to take will be mine." Isegrim cracked both seals and opened the folder and then scanned over the document. He found what he was looking for and read out aloud: "The firstborn shall inherit the day he is declared a man before the Elders. Until then the caretaker and steward of the Ragnarsson holdings on Niflheim remain under the control of the last living Ragnarsson, a retainer of twelve percent of the earnings of the Niflheim bound estates shall be paid annually to the steward." One of the Elders said. "You remain the steward until your son turns 16 and is declared a man before the Elders." Isegrim lost his grin. "I have to wait sixteen years? What happens if he dies, this is a dangerous world and I don't intend to cuddle my son but raise him as a warrior born." Erik Gustavson said. "Then it is mine to decide what to do with it. The Contract dies with my future grandson." Neither the elders nor Isegrim saw the midwife rushing up the stairs in a great hurry, summoned by a chambermaid. Isegrim finally sat down, and whatever he said was drowned in a mighty thunderclap. The electric lights flickered and went out. Deafening thunder rumbled, immediately following it a loud shouting. "Fire!" Isegrim and Erik Gustav dressed as quickly as they could, including cold masks to protect the faces against the brutal weather, rushed with other men of the burg to follow the shouts of alarm. Going outside without all the proper gear, especially a face mask, was close to suicide, a deep, infiltered breath could freeze the water in the lungs. It turned out that lightning had struck the Freemen's quarters. Debris and rock pieces littered the ground around the three-story house. Bright flames licked out of the hole in the roof, threating to spread. Fires were rare, but not entirely uncommon on a world where the open flame was the norm for most cooking and heating. That is all heating save that needed for a burg the size of Olafson or Ragnarsson. The lack of wood in the construction of houses made house fires less destructive and dangerous as they once had been so long ago on planet Earth. It took them little time to reach the attic. Greifen, the yardmaster of the Ragnarsson burg with a soot-blackened face reported, "The lightning ignited these bales of Seagrass that we had stored here, but I don't think it will spread, Sire." Erik Gustav, raising his falcon shaped cold mask, said. "What is done to make sure?" "We are pulling what has not caught fire away as we are throwing snow on the flames." Isegrim snorted, "No sense to stand out here then. Things are well in hand." Lighting brightened the sky and thunder rolled over whatever he said. Greifen looked through the hole in the roof and said. "I wonder what it is that made Thor so angry tonight?" Erik Gustav turned to the stairs. "Greifen, the generator?" "It has stopped working, no one knows of such off-world things, or how to fix them. It has always worked." Erik Gustav did not say out loud what he was thinking, but he realized Niflheim was a technology backward world. Possessing only the bares of low tech. They truly believed the gods were real, sitting in judgment of their world. The servicing a simple generator was beyond their educational system. They were part of a space-faring community that harnessed the energies of stars. "Call for service then, it is not good to be without electricity in weather like this magnitude." Greifen said, "I'll fly to Halstaad Fjord at once, my liege. Our only GalNet terminal is in the still room, and it too needs power." Erik Gustav only nodded and turned himself to leave the Freeman house. Halfway down the stairs, he was stopped by a woman in fur cloak and the blue dress of a maid. Her face brightened with relieve. "Sire, the Lady, she is giving birth, and the midwife says we need the Union Doctor quickest!" Three hours had passed since the maid had delivered the urgent plea. Even with power, the Galnet terminal was not Avatar enabled. He then learned that not even the clinic was with an enabled Avatar. He had used his own PDD to call the Union Clinic. One of the doctors of the Union Clinic had to come out to the burg in a flyer. The Union Clinic was technically way too small and understaffed for a world of this size, but it was seen as an admission of weakness to go the Union Clinic. Niflheim Vikings first tried to doctor themselves and use old-fashioned home remedies before consulting the clinic. Children were born at home, and if the mother-to-be was lucky enough to be an essential member of a clan, she could rely on a midwife. It had taken almost an hour to find a free doctor, and while the clinic maintained a small fleet, three, of new fast all-weather Flyers. Two were responding to prior calls, the remaining one out of commission, unflyable due to needed repairs. A Union Doctor, after a lengthy delay, had finally arrived and was rushed into the bedroom by the midwife. The men were standing in the drawing room, each of them nervously brooding. Isegrim feared that he would have to go back to the crumbling burg when his wife died before she could deliver the twins. It was his nature to care more about that than about the young woman who was his wife, fighting for her life. Erik Gustav was deeply concerned about his daughter, and he also realized that he had not performed all that well as Planet Representative. The Clinic not having an avatar enabled GalNet terminal was something a Planet Rep should have remedied ages ago. Erik had learned nothing from the previous experience when his beloved wife died from an unknown disease brought to this world by none other himself. Being unprepared seemed to be his nature. These were painful reminders of just how much he had failed as clan Chief and as the Representative of this world. The purchase of Avatar enabled Galet terminals for every burg on Niflheim would not even disturb his accountant. Hopefully, it would relieve some of the aches in his heart. It did nothing to reduce the present problem. Swearing to Odin to keep Hel in check, he would have his Niflheim agent contact GalNet for immediate installation. The burg was still eerily dark, the generator remaining out of service. All the local repair companies were closed for the night and had no on-call service technician. There was a generator at Isen Lansby, and the technician promised to come as soon as he had completed three other emergency repair calls. Without electricity there was no reliable heat, the old fireplaces could not keep the big burg above freezing. Not that there were even enough soak stones or Seaweed bricks to keep them all going. He had called the office of his company, and they diverted one of his freighters, picking up a new Zero Point power provider and a few thousand tons of firewood. All his money, however, could not make them fly faster or arrive here before the eight weeks the trip would take. Isegrim paced back and forth and grunted. "What is it that takes so long? He is a Union Doctor, in Odin's name, he should be able to fix whatever is wrong in no time." Erik Gustav glanced at the priceless mantle clock above the fireplace. An antique his family had brought from Earth a little over 2800 years ago. He had it restored by an expert only ten years ago, and it kept time in a very peculiar way by pointing two arms at the circularly arranged numbers around the clock's face. It was Gothorm Ragnarsson, his grandfather who had shown him how to read the time. The two mechanical hands had almost joined at the top. It was only a minute before midnight. Of course, the clock kept Earth time, but the colonists had held to the 24-hour division of the day. While he stared at the clock, he remembered that one of his Assembly colleagues told him that many of the old Terran human colonies still kept OTT, Old Terran Time. It merely seemed natural to humans and fit their natural biological rhythm. He tried to keep himself calm remembering these irrelevant facts at a time like that. The larger one of the clock's hands moved with a fine almost inaudible click. Just at the same time, the bright, cold white-bluish light of lightning illuminated everything for the briefest moment, and the following thunder felt terrifying as if it shook the massive stone walls. The door to Ilva's bedroom opened, and Freydis, the wife of Hogun Olafson and Ilva's midwife appeared, holding something swaddled in a blanket. "Lord Isegrim, behold thy son!" Isegrim forgot everything, all his selfish thoughts all his plans to kill the woman and the child to gain the riches as he saw the tiny pinkish human baby. The very first thing he saw was that his son had his eyes wide open, blue eyes with a shade of gray. The baby raised his incredibly small arms to his face, while Isegrim with shaking hands, and a flood of inexplainable pride, a feeling that even he recognized as the love, raised the infant high over his head, proclaiming, "Odin and Thor! Hear ye all of Aesir. Behold my son!" Erik Gustav stalwart with feelings very similar. A male was born, the Ragnarsson legacy would continue. The wave of pride was swept aside with the throat tightening sensation of fear as he saw the doctor's serious expression coming out of the bedroom. "My daughter, how is she? And where is the other baby?" The doctor said. "You should have called me much earlier. The midwife is good, but your daughter had an acute and life-threatening complication in the last stage of her pregnancy, characterized by the appearance of tonic-clonic seizures. It is called Eclampsia, and I had to call Med Central to diagnose and treat it right. It is virtually unknown nowadays..." Erik Gustav yelled, interrupting the medic. "Dr. Dwyer, how is she?" "I have her in a deep sleep, she will recover fully, and I managed to keep the boy alive. The girl, however, is stillborn and beyond any medical help." Isegrim was still holding the baby. "My son is healthy?" "Your baby boy is the picture of health and the first baby I ever delivered that was born with open eyes, rare but not completely unknown." The Midwife said, "He is a warrior born like no other, mighty Isegrim. When the doctor slapped his behind, he did not cry, but clenched his tiny fist and raised his arm as if he wanted to strike back at whoever slapped him." The baby had gotten a hold of Isegrim's beard, and the tiny creature smiled. Isegrim cooed. "He knows his father and his grip is strong, oh aye he is an Olafson!" Then he held the baby out to Erik Gustavson. The patriarch of the Ragnarssons also raised the baby to his face. He had seen many wondrous sights on Pluribus and yet that rosy little boy that reached with his arms outshone all the wonders of the Universe. He reminded him of his children as he held them for the first time, one of them being his daughter, the mother of this baby. "Hail to you my grandson, hail Eric Thor Olafson, may your life be long and your way be true!" Isegrim said to the doctor. "My wife?" The doctor told him the same thing he said to Erik Gustav, and they all went in to see her. She looked peaceful, her golden hair like a precious veil around her. Even Isegrim could not fight his emotions as he saw the tiny shape covered underneath a piece of cloth on the bed beside her. He told himself that she was just a girl and he did not care for the woman or the babies and that his true love was waiting in Halstaad Fjord. They had decided it was wisest for Gretel not to be at the Burg, especially since Erik Gustav was here. As he thought of Gretel and saw his wife and the stillborn girl, he decided to let Gretel wait till the very last Longnight occurred on Niflheim and be a better husband and the best father Niflheim ever saw. Whatever hold that blonde devil had over him felt suddenly broken. His son would be the heir to all Olafson and Ragnarsson. "His son" never had words more meaning to him. "The girl shall find eternal rest with the warriors and first ladies of Olafson, and she will receive a send-off as no other child/woman has ever received, she shall not die without a name. Her name will be Freya and such will it say on the Mehir raised in her memory!" Not just Erik Gustav noticed the change in Isegrim as he came down the stairs the very next day with Ilva on his arm, carefully walking. Both were decked out in their finest. Isegrim was wearing full clan chief regalia, the clan necklace however covered with a black cloth signifying the death of a vital clan warrior. He also wore Hevnen the sword. Ilva was in a long, flowing gown of blackest velvet with golden seams. Her hair, reaching past her waist, brushed into a luster that made gold look dull and cheap in comparison. A black veil before her face signified her mourning. Everyone living at the Burg, guests, and the Elders of Niflheim had gathered in the High Hall. Even the Lowmen had been called and had a chance to clean themselves. Erik Gustav was walking behind them holding the baby, this time swaddled in suede leather and Nubhir fur-lined blanket that was Olafson Red. Embroidered with the wolf heads and the silver falcon, Ilva had made this blanket in the many months of her pregnancy. Isegrim stopped at the stairs, containing only five steps, that led from the splendor of the Lord's Retreat into the High Hall of Ragnarsson Burg. Then he took the bundle from Erik Gustav and held the child high so all could see and with a booming voice proclaimed, "This is my first born son, brought to this world by my wife, the First Lady of this clan. We also mourn the loss of my daughter Freya Olafson, who was taken by Hel." He lowered the baby and said, "This day and tomorrow will be in her honor, and I command you to lower all flags and cover all shields. To the stone cutters I say cut me a Mehir and emboss her name upon it, but in ten days from today, we will gather to celebrate the naming day of my son." Erik Gustav said, "To send my granddaughter off to the plane of the dead in fashion befitting, I command the cellars to opened, and the kitchens to provide the finest for a feast in her honor for all of you. Tonight you are all guests, and no difference shall exist for what your stand. Tonight we are united in grief and remembrance. This celebration is the way we send off the most honored from us." Isegrim handed the newborn back to Erik Gustav. The Ragnarsson scion stood two steps higher and the tiny baby reached out his small hand to touched Mjördaren. It was, of course, a completely random event, but there was hardly a society in all the Universe who put more credit into signs and omen than the Neo Vikings of Niflheim. A collective sigh went through the assembled crowd as one of the Elders said. "Not rattles or toys are what a newborn Olafson reaches for, nay but a sword. A warrior born indeed!"

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