Eric's Naming Day

Eric's Naming Day

Prelude Part 6 : Naming Day November 4999, OTT

Erik had insisted his grandson's naming be performed in his burg, for numerous reasons, the comfort of the guest being of the utmost importance. Erik Gustav had spared no expenses to make this day a momentous event. The Burg was made snow and ice-free humanly as possible. Flags and banners everywhere. In a rare showing of kindness to all the Lowmen, the Clan purchased new clothing for them, from an external source. Every room in the burg filled to overflowing with guests, numbered in these were Clan Chiefs, all the members of the Circle of Elders. A delegation from Hasvik, including The First Keeper , was there. Even Bjorn Igvarhein, Niflheim Radio owner and commentator, was there to record and broadcast this most monumental event. The tables, almost buckling under the mountains of food. A dozen grills lined up with Fangsnappers basting slowly over an open flame. Towering stacks of barrels of beer, ale, and mead were staging around the burg. Cases holding aquavit and other strong spirits accompanied the barrels. Now after days of frantic preparations, the ceremony drew near. Branches and wreaths from Terran Oak had again been transported, without regard to expense, to decorate the High Hall. Sacred mistletoe, birch saplings, and flowers prominently displayed throughout the halls and rooms filled the air of the burg with spring-like fragments. The wealthy clan lords openly envied the lavish display of Old Earth Nordish splendor. Ancient illustrations, from the original home of the Vikings, supplied the bases of the eloquent repose. The Elders had brought the many precious artifacts of the planet, including the solid platinum Altar of Odin. Richly adorned with animations depicting the one-eyed God, his murder of ravens, and other symbols associated with the father of the Aesir. It required twenty strong, viral men to transport the Altar, struggling valiantly with the enormous weight. Placed just beyond the five wide steps leading from the High Hall to the Lord's Retreat. The dining table that usually centered in the High Hall now occupied an area by far wall. Chairs were set in rows to the left and right of a dark purple carpet forming an aisle down the center of the High Hall. The color purple chosen as a comprise between red and black. The carpet ran from the main entrance, across the polished stone floor of the High Hall to end at the Altar of Odin. Olafson banners with a predominant wolf's heads mixed with the silver falcon crest banners of Ragrarssons lined the walls, towers, and even displayed vertically beneath windows. Tall iron wrought braziers and oil fed torches lined the walls casing wavery shadows and flight images beneath them. From the twenty meter high, vaulted ceiling now hung the eight grand chandeliers built using Tyranno Fin bones supporting every skull of long perished enemies of the Olafson clan. They had been brought from the old Olafson Rock to symbolize the relocation of the Olafson clan to this burg. Each of these chandeliers had thirty-six soot-blackened skulls with a candle burning in each half-open jaws. These macabre lamps were the source of many legends, clan lore, and ale inducted fables were known far beyond the walls of the Olafson clan. Isegrim was standing in his clan chief regalia near the top of the stairs and looked up to these chandeliers. It was an old Olafson game to remember and the name of each enemy whose cranium bone was attached up there. Each mistake of memory required the chugging of a mug of ale. Many ancient symbols were present with few had been overlooked. Upon the altar, Odin's spear prominently displayed for all to admire and remember. The Elders wore white robes, the Goði priests from Hasvik had added dark purple capes to their courtly outfits. The First Keeper of Hasvik wore a purple and gold robe adorned with Yggdrasil, an immense ash tree that is center to the cosmos and considered very holy, embroidered on his chest. Filling the hall was over a hundred fifty clan chiefs from the Alliance of the East and the Western clans, dressed in elaborate traditional garments complete with swords, axes and today even shields. The accompanying first sons, warriors, and their wives filled the mighty hall. SRO was the order of the day, with servants scambling mighty to provide additional seating. The Eldest of the Circle, Egill, they often called the Wizard of the Pillar , and other times the Hermit of the Rock was also present. That he had even left his lonely burg indicated this naming was a great omen with far-reaching implications. Gretel was standing in the back, next to Brunar Bendixen, disguised with a dark wig and a veil. She had used a generous dose of the Shaill pheromone to attract the man and then spiked his ale with more illegal hypno-drugs. Despite her sister's complaints, she had not wasted all her time spending time in virtual reality. She communicated with other escaped Lowmen, learning she was not alone in her quest for violent, brutal revenge. Although some were like her sister, newly minted citizen content to merely be away, hoping a peaceful solution could be found. For Gretel purposes, there were enough chaffing from the cruelty of Niflheim, to supply her needs. She learned about the Nubhir gang, residing right under the noses of the high and mighty clan lords. Comprised of criminals, no-good doers, and even ones loyal to a vision of equality. One of them got her in contact with a dealer of illegal chemicals, other substances. From him, she learned about the subtle ways to entice and control various entities, including man, via psycho drugs. After hearing of these chemicals, she researched the Galnet soaking up every available bit of knowledge regarding them. Her sister's money purchased a neural upload on Shaill poisons and toxins. Of course, the possession and use of such drugs were highly illegal, but so was stealing her sister's life savings. She had no remorse, justifying her action with "they were her parents too" that Gretel wished to avenge. Upon reaching Niflheim, she would be beyond Union law and most of its influences. Using the knowledge gained from Galnet, contents of the little box, connected "friends," Gretel had the tools for revenge and the obscene desire to become Queen of Niflheim. What easier way to gain all she ever dreamed about, on a world ruled by pecker brained simpletons?The Shaill, a very disgusting species of huge sentient slugs, had based an entire civilization on the mastery of biochemistry and could at will make their glands produce the most complex and potent biotoxins and compounds. While it wasn't psionics, the potions could only increase and reinforce emotions that were already there, but with the help of inhibition lowering and hypno suggestive psycho drugs the primitive men of this cold world could be molded to her will. How Isegrim freed himself of her biochemistry induced spell was not entirely clear to her, but seeing him with his son and that blonde bitch, she suspected strong emotions overpowered the effects of her drugs. It took little persuasion to convince Brunar to take her along, finding him in the bed of a South Down whore was a stroke of luck. Brunar introduced Gretel as a high lady of his clan. The Bendixen clan was not an ally of the Ragnarssons and an open enemy to the Olafsons, but it was a tradition to open the gates to friend and foe alike on this glorious day. That they had to stand in the back was because there weren't enough chairs left and it was the allies and friends of the clans that had reserved seats. Next to Brunar stood his father, Odvar Bendixen. He too was under the influence of Gretel's hypno drugs, he also frequented the shadier side of town, and needed little convincing to ignore her. The older Bendixen was talking to the Clan Chief of the Elhir. Leif Elhir, who like Isegrim, had just recently become the leader of his clan snorted. "That whelp they name today is celebrated like the coming of the first King of Niflheim ." Odvar Bendixen kept watching the late guests arrive. "Aye, Being the first king is possible, his first name is Eric, he stands to inherit the riches of Niflheim from the Ragnarssons, the strength of tradition through the Olafsons, and the incredible off-world empire this shrewd clan, with Eric Gustav in charge, has gathered across the galaxy worth untold billions.  Erik is also our world representative in the Union's Assembly .  Hell, one of their freighters lands somewhere on Niflheim at least once a week. Do you have any idea how much the of those freighters cost?  And let me tell you, no one runs a freighter "dead-head, oh, that means running empty to a planet." "No,  Odvar, what need would I have to know that price or anything else about his off-world business? We are Norse, and off-world should not be of our concern." "Well, Leif, you could buy every boat and sub presently on Niflheim and have the spare change to buy a hundred more, for what one of them cost. We are not as isolated you believe. Wealth, knowledge together equals power. Erik Gustav from just those yields more power than every clan and freemen combined. Add his political suaveness, well the old hawk is worth billions maybe even trillions!" Gretel could barely keep quiet. She had seen what the money of her sister could buy, and if her plans came to fruition, all that would belong to her. Leif said. "Volund, the old chief, last year himself hired on our boats to keep his clan fed and now Isegrim spends more coin on the naming of his son than his clan has seen in five Longnights. I wonder what they paid the hermit to come down from his rock to be shown off here today." "Yes, that would be interesting to know. With Egill's endorsement, I would have a seat in the Circle without delay. He has refused generous gifts from others, so what's their pull? You know he is a wizard and has the ear of the gods, what frills do they offer not given by the gods?"

Gretel could not hold back and whispered, "There is no such thing as gods, and there are no wizards." Odvar turned to her, and the thin veneer of psycho drugs could not change the fact that he was a Niflheim man. "Silence woman, don't utter that garbage around me. Who are you again?" She lowered her head. “I am the companion of Brunar, thy lordship.” He grunted. "As a proper woman, you know your place and remain silent.  It behooves you keep your mouth shut when chiefs converse.  Brunar, see that she knows her place and later advice me from which clan does she hail.  Why are you allowing her to break traditions, here and now of all places?  If she continues, call me.  I shall introduce her to an old Bendixen tradition, called the scold's bridle ." Brunar was trying to remember who she was, looked at Gretel. "I don't remember, tell me again." Gretel was saved by the blasting of horns, calling the assembled to attention. She knew how close she had come to losing everything. She had to curb her mouth and remember from before. The biochemicals worked, but it seemed to lack the strength she expected and needed. The effect could not fail, this close to fruition. She also remembered the warning of her virtual instructor, evoking strong emotions would break the hypno drug enforced suggestions. The music, played on the old instruments, swelled to a rousing tune every Norse knew. The Hymn to the Seven Aesir was a well-liked sacred melody. Then the crowd became silent as the Eldest of them all appeared. Through the opening doors, the Eldest walked along the purple carpet carrying a heavy object. Someone whispered. "It is the Blótbolli." Brunar asked his father, “Is that the cup they made of the Nogoll skull ? Do you know the tale?” "Indeed son, the Nogoll, an alien race and part of the Galactic Council, raided many Union Colonies during the intergalactic war.  An advanced scouting party of the Nogoll landed on Niflheim. They picked the wrong planet, and none of the Nogoll survived that mistake. The cup is the skull of the Nogoll commander, felled by Siegfried Olafson . It galls me to say, but that man was perhaps the wildest meanest, hard-fighting, son of a bitch, muscular Viking that ever breathed air.  Reportedly he out-massed even Hogun, Volund Olafson second son.  Less you did not know, Hogun is over six foot 7 or 8 inches tall and weight close to 350 pounds.  Let me tell you, from personal knowledge.  There ain't no fat nowhere on the man." The Eldest did not wear his usual tattered things but looked every part how the Eldest and wisest of all Elders should appear. In a floor-length billowing cloak the deepest red, the old maroon of the Skallagrímsson clan, not displayed publicly in four hundred years, The black dragon symbol embroidered upon the sturdy fabric of the cloak, the hood drawn around his face, the legendary sword Dødbringer on his hip. With a solemn expression, Egill carried the heavy skull cup, stepping up to where Isegrim stood, holding his firstborn son. There the First Keeper of Hasvi k took the spear of Odin from the altar, and Isegrim cut his hand on the razor sharp spear, then dripping his blood over the forehead of the child , spoke,  "This is my firstborn son! My blood of Olafson true is his blood. Thus his blood is Olafson.  Before Odin, Thor and the Aesir; before the Elder of Niflheim and the holy men of Hasvik, I proclaim him named:  Eric Thor Olafson !" Isegrim placed his hand over the cup and dripped more blood into the container still held the old man. Now Erik Gustav cut himself, spreading drips of his blood over the newborn. "This is my grandson and sole heir. My blood is his blood, and his blood is Ragnarsson. Before Odin, Thor and the Aesir; before the Elder of Niflheim and the holy men of Hasvik, I swear the day he becomes a man and a Niflheim warrior,  all that is mine shall be his.  All hail my grandson, Eric Thor Olafson." Then he too dropped blood into the cup. To the surprise of all, the old hermit cut himself on the spear and dropped blood over the infant and said with deep emotion in his voice, "Many Longnights and Shortsummers have passed since I was born, but I am thy kin Eric Olafson and my blood is your blood. Before Odin, Thor, and the Aesir; before the Elder of Niflheim and the holy men of Hasvik. I swear to be thy teacher and protector and no secret I guard shall be secret to you.” Huge Hogun Olafson stepped up to the spear, cut himself and sprinkled blood over the infant. "My blood is your blood. Before Odin, Thor, and the Aesir; before the Elder of Niflheim and the holy men of Hasvik. I swear to be thy godfather and protector." The First Keeper took and raised the cup. "This cup, filled with the blood of a mighty Tyranno, slain during the last days of Shortsummer and with the blood of thy father and kin. May their strength and the might of this world flow through thy veins. I, hereby, declare thee to be known as Eric Thor Olafson. Bring though honor to thy name. Hail Odin, Hail Thor." The assembled crowd roared and chanted the name Eric Olafson as the First Keeper doused the newborn with the gory liquid. A chieftain of the Olafson clan raised his sword. "Behold the scion of our Lord is not crying, he is not wailing, but he is raising his tiny fist. Oh aye, a warrior born!" Not even the Elhir clan chief had a dry eye. "Obnoxious they may be, those who bear the name Olafson, but this my friend of the Bendixen Rock is how a firstborn is named." Gretel was born a Lowman's daughter, and the legends and traditions were for the Lords and the clans. The Freemen also observed the rituals whereas the Lowmen had no time for such things.   Being a child of Niflheim, although Gretel had no control over these events, she was affected by them.  She vowed to a silent oath,  one that dictates replacing Ilva's and Isegrim's firstborn with her firstborn.  Here and now, Isegrim was beyond her reach, but she knew that would change shortly. It was not easy to get on a clan's island without being invited.   She needed to be alone with Isegrim for just a few moments, reveal herself and douse him with another load of the perfume. That black-bearded bastard had the hots for her anyway so it would require only a small amount the Shaill potion to accomplish her goal. She started thinking about how she could remain on the rock. Being caught hiding in the burg or elsewhere after the festivities would trigger a total disaster. Those burgs were close communities, and a stranger had a hard time to blend in. She could always return to the tanneries. No, she promised never again would she set a foot into a tannery. She had to get Isegrim another time.

The reason for the festivities had fallen asleep, despite the singing and the drinking. Isegrim continued beaming with pride said, "My wife, take our son, cleanses him of the blood so that he may rest more comfortable." Ilva cleaned the blood from her child, then proud carried him to his crib. Her pride in her husband and her child showed in her face and posture. Just then the double doors opened, a cold blast of wind made the torches and chandeliers flicker. Three long shadows cast on the purple carpet became shorter as three shrouded beings appeared in the doorway. Their forms were distinctly female. There was utter silence through the High Hall. One of the mysterious visitors spoke, her voice was not loud, but all heard it, "The sons of far distant Midgard gathered in celebration, praising the Aesir with much drink and food as it was done so long ago, on their world of origin. Traditions of old mingled with the habits of a new world, yet have you no room on your tables for three weary travelers?" Isegrim stood and gestured to the tables. "Let there be no one denied food, shelter, or access to our hearth.  Our gates are open to friend and foe alike on this day of celebrating the naming of my son.  Thus they will carry neither weapons of war or spread distrust into our midst". Strangers announce the names you are known by and declare your intent and then let us close the doors, stoke the fires and bring warm ale.” The big doors closed all by themselves and the shrouded woman in the middle drew back her hood, revealing long black hair but her face remained obscured by a black veil. "I am Verðandi, a traveler from the stars.  These are my sisters, Urðr and Skuld . We share portions of the same ancestral roots, ye  Men of Niflheim.  We came to witness and bless this child.   His birth anticipated for ages by the Universe. Let there be praise and rejoicing abound." Egill stepped forward and knelt before the strange woman. "Then the legends are true." "All legends are true, ye friend of the anointed White One . It is the mist of time, linked to the limits of man that shrouding holy events with thick cobwebs of fantasy and embellishment." Elkhart, the first Keeper of Hasvik , raised both hands, "The Nornir unseen for many ages, arrive only when a child meant to influence and determine the future is set forth on this world." Egill gasped. “You speak of Gods?” The veiled women came closer,  "You can answer only for thyself regarding the true nature of the legends and Gods you worship." One of the other women spoke. "But yes my sisters and I have been called Nornirs by humans who occupy a beautiful world.  A world far in the distance from here.   Long is the list of names that adorn us, as we dwell among the children of Midgard." Now the third woman speaking directly to Elkhart. "The men of Midgard have forgotten us indeed.  You, the long-lived offspring of the giants, now disguised as a man, clearly remember us." She then turned to Egill. "Of our first visits to Midgard, all that remains are stories and legends.  Colonists and wanderers carried these legends and stories to the stars and new worlds such as this one. When told by multiple voices over many generations,  simple tales become legends and myths. But eventually, fade away and are remembered by only a few."

Egill noticed that the men and women around them had fallen asleep. Even Isegrim had slumped back into his chair with his chin on his chest. The other two women lowered their hoods. Egill slowly got up. "Indeed man has grown up, and what our ancestors called gods, possible were visitors with advanced technology. Who are you and what is your purpose?  I am the first to welcome you, but I also assure you I am not a defenseless simpleton." Elkhart suddenly looked much stronger and more massive than even dozing Hogun. "They are visitors who walk among the Aesir .  They were advisors to Thor and Odin . The messengers of fate itself, and you question them?" "Aye, for I am also a citizen of the Union, and if these are visitors from a civilization we do not know, we must find out what they want and how they plan to achieve it." To the women he said. "Now declare yourselves.” The woman who called herself Verðandi chuckled. "Have no fear Egill Skallagrímsson, we are indeed here as first declared." She lowered her staff, pointing at the freshly cleaned and happy child now somehow, lying inside a warrior's shield. The infant was not asleep, eyes bright and moving for movement to movement.  He guided his tiny arms in time with unseen, unheard activities. The shrouded woman said. "This cold and wet world so far away from all possesses pieces of a cosmic puzzle. They will be put in place by he that was named today. So yes we come to celebrate his birth and naming. For the solution his provides will benefit all in this universe til time immoral." Egill could not tell which of the women spoke next. "Only you will remember our visit. To others, we will be nothing but a long distant dream." The three women approached the child. Egill stepped before them. "I must repeat, declare your intent. I will not allow you to get closer. Why have you come and what is it you want of Eric?" "The White One has gifted you with formidable powers indeed. Your old friend Elkhart is much more than he appears. He too is far from impotent. We are not here to harm the child. We came to be the first to hail his coming and hope he remembers us when he comes into his own. There are forces more formidable than the Aesir, whom you worship, seeking to prevent his arrival. His true nature must be hidden and remain a secret until he unites the Tokens of Power. Upon collecting all the pieces of the puzzle, then solving the riddle it present. After which he will be able to unite the tokens, henceforth no force can harm him, and he will champion for truth, justice, and true equality." Elkhart said. "Then it is true, the Children of Midgard will bring forth the one that brings in the age of Ragnarok ." The three women circled the child. "We bring the sand from the roots of Yggdrasil, water from the well of wisdom, mistletoe from the world tree. Hail to the Dark One !" Egill trembled involuntarily. "This simply can not be happening. Science has replaced the superstition of old, Thor did not then or now exist. The static discharge of lightning makes thunder. The sun is not a chariot, but a simple star among many. There is no world tree." "Yet, Egill, you live on a planet where the men worship the Aesir. You call upon Odin many times both in oath and curse. The Aesir had many names in your old world with each tribe of man describing them differently. Did not the Sarans come to your world many times and were called gods by those humans dwelling in ancient Egypt. Do you think this happened only once and the Sarans were the only ones visiting that blue world of your origin? The ones you know as the Aesir are but an old advanced civilization that had long faded into oblivion, only a few remained." Another Nornir said, "Your Union is not far from reaching that same level of development and has the potential to far surpass them, especially now that the Narth are members of that Union. We Nornirs are all that is left of an older species from time and space long forgotten. We became messengers of the Rule, and through it, we know of the potential this child possesses. Now the resurrection of the Dark One depends upon the action he takes in the future. Despite our reputation not even we can predict the future to tell if he can be or will be successful." Egill looked at the little boy who found his tiny toes much more interesting than the mysterious women.  He was just a happy, content child. "Tyr was very cryptic, even more than his usual self. He wanted me to be here, but I know he has been born of a normal Niflheim woman and sired by a brutish Olafson. Your arrival, your words make this child be a supernatural being." "For this child to be just another piece towards the coming of the Dark One. What we do know he is an important part. The Voice of the Rule was confident it would begin on this world. We came to make sure he will grow undisturbed and unnoticed by the forces that want to prevent the rise of the Dark One.” The Old Keeper who looked so different from his usual said, "He is a weak human, his body is fragile, and death is a close companion. I shall gift strength to him." Egill turned to the old keeper. "You are not the old man you claim, so what be you?" "I am an old man, Egill. Much older than most, with power not normal for your humanity.  Perhaps the term man concerning Children of Midgard is not entirely correct."

Egill found himself waking in one of the big chairs by the banquet table. He remembered having the strangest dream about Nornirs and Odin himself. It was a dream whose details faded fast. The very idea that the shriveled old man with the stringy beard was all-powerful Odin. Who was getting up from another chair was a particularly amusing aspect of that dream. He looked at the empty mugs, the mess of the party, and the demolished mountains of food. Now, this was how Niflheim events and festivities should and always did end. Servants were already rushing around cleaning and putting things back in order. The first guests left with throbbing heads and a full stomach, and so did the Hermit of Niflheim. He was looking forward to seeing Tyr the White Tyranno soon. Ilva intercepted him as he was just about to descend to the sub pen where his sub, Poseidon, was tied. She was carrying her child and said, "I wanted to thank you for coming and making this a special day." “It was a privilege, my lovely child.” "Promise me you shaggy old Wizard to teach him all the things you know.  Let him, when he comes of age, listen to your great wisdom.   He is born into this beautiful but harsh world. He is, as you well know, son to a tough father who will demand much of him.  But if you teach him as you have taught me, all the things about the ancient Rite of Passage, he will be able rightfully chose whatever path he wants to traverse." "I swore it to the Gods and all Niflheim, but aye Ulva, I promise you, I will do that. When he is old enough, I will summon him to my Rock, to show and teach him as much as he lets me." Ilva looked around to make sure she they were alone, "Will you also introduce him to Tyr?" "Tyr already looks forward to seeing your son." “Please tell that big fish how much I miss him.” "Shortsummer is soon upon us once again, and there will be a reason for you to travel to the Pillar and you can tell him yourself." Egill kissed the beautiful woman on the cheek and then kissed the infant, after which he took his leave.

Gretel sulked in the small room she had rented a short distance from South Down. Things had not gone as she planned. Her supply of the expensive drugs was almost gone as was most of the money she had stolen. Her sister's credit strip had stopped working quite a while ago. The small XChange office at the spaceport where they sold Iridium coins for credits, advised her she was using a reported stolen credit strip. They were ordered to restrict all access and obtain the device/card. The Nubhir gang lost their leader, and the rest wanted nothing to do with her. A big clan lord was snooping around and threatened to report any problems to the Elders. Maybe starting her vengeance with murder was not such a good idea, it depleted most of her funds for one. She got up from the bed and stared out the small window. It was only a two-story place, but she still could see Mount Asgard in the distance. Heavy snow covered everything else in sight. Someone knocked at her door. "Don't worry you old hag I am still paid up till next week." The door opened and instead of the landlord's wife. It was a man, and he was an off-worlder for sure, he wore a heated thermal suit and a modern looking cold mask with attached goggles. "No worries Gretel.  I am not Ms. Schlossheimer." She put her hand around a little silver beamer she had bought at Holstein. She had never used this small off-world weapon, but she kept it close to her. "Who are you then?" Her voice vibrated with fear. "That Lorix - 99 credit laser is not necessary.  I have a proposal you might consider." "Again who in the hell are you ?" "The nature of my business makes it necessary that I keep that to myself, but if a name is necessary, just pick something, and I will use it while we do business together." “Are you Off-World police?” "Oh no, I am of the other side so to speak. Union laws and the goals of my employers are not exactly compatible with the matter at hand. However, the police have your name on a Union-wide POI." She was still standing by the window with the tight knot of fear in her throat. “POI?” He closed the door and took a seat next to the small table. “Person of interest list. You are not a citizen, which in this particular case is good.” “My sister hired you. Only she would know where to find me.” "Oh no, your sister did not press charges, but she is also not your biggest fan anymore. Your name came up in an illegal drugs investigation, your interests and contacts piqued their interests, and it also brought you to my attention." “Can you not tell me what this is about and what you want from me?” "My associates want a foothold on this planet, we think taking over one of the local clans would do the trick. Starting a little clan war and bring this ice ball into the 49th century. While doing so, offering the treasures of this world at the Union markets, simple operation and goal.  Getting that foothold is where you come in." "Me?" was all she could think of saying. Nothing said made any sense to her so far. "Gretel, you spent a good year on Holstein, and you did not hold back on your plans for the future. You told others about the Olafsons, the revenge you wanted and all that. Your plans and ours are compatible so to speak. I will sponsor you in subtle ways, and you conduct your revenge business, the only condition is you take the occasional directions from me. We are not in a hurry, and such things take time. In eight or ten years, you will be a rich woman and just maybe the queen of Niflheim for real." “What do you get out of it?” “Fish.” “You mean fish from the ocean?” “Yes, every single one of them.” She sat down as well. "I care not about fish, but Queen of Niflheim, that is something I want.   Please explain what I need to do and more of what I get out of it."