I know neither of us care about excuses anymore. We're long past that, after only a post last year, which itself almost a year after the previous post. So I won't make any.
I don't even know if there are actual Wanderers out there I'm speaking to. There might only be webcrawlers and indexers reading through pages that I wrote, leaving me only with the illusion that there are human eyes beyond the screen. Is it too late to even care?
I really shouldn't be thinking about it. There are better things to care about.
[WP] You’ve just turned 18 years old and discover you have superpowers. One of your parents admits he/she is a fallen god/goddess punished for a major disagreement with fellow gods. You and your other parent were lied to your entire lives and you’re now speechless. by WolfeS93
I like to think that I'm an avid sci-fi genre reader, having read quite a few series of book more than my peers at school. Then again, most of my classmates don't read books outside the ones assigned by the teachers, the very act of reading a chore for them. I bask in my feeling of superiority, knowing that my peers won't be able to understand what 4th dimension looks like, or what a degenerate matter is, or what retrocausality means.
In reality, I'm just a massive nerd. And I'm wearing it like a badge, as I opened a copy of "Time Riders" in the middle of Math class. It was self-study anyway, the teachers were busy preparing for the Seniors' final exams, so I thought me reading is at least more productive than the other kids gossiping about make ups and sports. I still haven't decided if that was the wisest decision I could've done.
No amount of sci-fi book pages describing how 4th dimension looks like would ever prepare you to the real thing. Words won't be enough to describe the sensation when you saw every single surface, without or within everything, as they swim through both time and space. I screamed as I watched, all at once, the neurons firing and eyeballs turning and muscles contracting all around me. I don't remember vomiting--but I do remember blacking out.
When I woke up, a piece of cloth was covering my eyes, tied tight behind my head. The familiar feelings of my bed tells me that I'm back home, the faint chatter with my parents' voice confirmed my suspicion.
"Why have you never told me this? What else haven't you told me? What else is a lie? Was your love a lie?"
"Sweetheart, I did all of this to protect you. Not a single moment of my life spent without agony of keeping this secret from you, but I assure you, it is necessary--"
"Why should I trust you now? After lying to me all this time? You lied on our marriage! You swore an oath to a God you don't even believe!"
"I need you to listen to me. Yes, I lied to you. I lied on that altar. But for the sake of the child--"
"The child, yes. The Allfather would want him to be made an Einherjar." A third foreign voice entered the conversation, a voice without words yet filled with meanings, as if it's projecting images of letters through sound. "He must be killed immediately."
"You're NOT taking him. I swear to my bow and shield that as long as I walk this realm, no forces of Hel or Odin shall claim his soul."
I opened one of my eyes, alternating right and left. The sight of the cloth in 4D space was considerably less nauseating than the classroom full of people, but it still took me some moments to get used to it. A few minutes longer than I would admit, I learned to 'lock' my sight to a piece of 3D 'frame', allowing me to function normally to some extent.
I stood up and prepared myself, before opening the door and walking to the dining room.
"Hi mom, dad." I sat down on a chair, across from my parents. There's no sign for the owner of the third voice, though I honestly won't be surprised if they're just invisible.
"Listen, honey," my mother started to speak, but my father stopped her. Unspoken words are exchanged through their eyes, I'll handle this.
"How much could you see, sweetheart?"
"In three dimension? Not much different than normal, really. In four dimension, however, I think I could see two or three seconds forward and back. Though, the cloth helps a lot, I could barely see the fracture now."
"It's a very special cloth, indeed. Made with fibers collected from my homeland. Now, I know you have a lot of question--"
"You bet I do. Who are you, dad? Why am I suddenly seeing in 4D? How am I supposed to attend school now? Am I being hunted?"
"Your father is someone from a very, peculiar, ancestry. A very noble, and very powerful, ancestry that some of other clans in the older generations fear yet venerate enough to call gods.Though we mostly just call ourselves Vanirs." My dad stood up, turning his back on me.
"I was one of the leaders of the Vanirs. I even sat on their throne, as a king, though the title was more of a curse." He walked over to me, reaching behind me head. I closed my eyes. "Look at me now. Fallen. Humiliated. A foreign enemy sat on my throne, and I hid on faraway land, trembling on fear of even mentioning my own name."
I kept my eyes shut as he removed my blindfold. "It doesn't matter now. Odin saw us, and he heard my mention of his name. I killed one of his messenger, and soon his Valkyries would flock into this very land. Look at me, my son. Open your eyes."
Preparing for the impending nausea, I opened my eyes, only to find my dad clad in golden robes and crown--but otherwise normal in three dimension. My mother was as awestruck as I am at my dad's regal appearance, her mouth shamelessly open.
"I am Ullr, son of Sif. Exiled king of the nine realms, the rightful master of the all-seeing throne of Hlidskjalf." His visage stayed firm in the middle of chaotic four dimensional rendition of reality my brain still can't fully process. A golden quiver strapped on his waist, while a bow was slung over his right shoulder. "I once ruled the nine realms from atop the world tree, and to the silver abode I shall return, ever watchful and vigilant. Fear not, my son. The curses of Hlidskjalf was granted to you, but even before a king I was a hunter. We are hunters."
A dagger, glowing brighter than any gold or silver ever would, appeared in his hands. He knelt in front of me, offering the daggers.
"It's perhaps insolent of me, to ask this from you after lying all this time. After hiding who I am, after hiding who you are, and I would fully understand if I must return to my crusade on my own. But if you have anything beyond contempt, beyond disgust for this liar of a father, I implore you, to join my fight. To hunt those who desecrated your ancestors' palace. To reclaim what was rightfully mine."
I looked at his eyes, and then at my mom's.
"Does that mean I have to drop out of high school?"
"Not a chance."
