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The days following the discovery of the dead priest were tense.

Rafn was the Valraven. Of this I had no doubt, and the knowledge scared me.

The great Wyrm of Midgard, Fenrir the wolf, Ratatosk the messenger; marvellous beasts of wonder live in our world. Some stay with the gods, while others roam the realm of Midgard and make their home among humans. I had met none before, and I didn't make the connection between Rafn and the Valraven.

Not until I read the priest's desperate final words.

Forever caught between Midgard and Asgard, the Valraven feeds upon the hearts of fallen warriors. I had seen what remained of his prey and I'd smelled flesh on his breath. For the Valraven can change his shape into man, raven or wolf as he wishes. The human shape is for travelling Midgaard and wolf when in Udgaard. But what his raven form was for, I did not know -and I dared not ask. Nor did I tell him of my discovery, for I feared he might turn on me, in either of his three shapes.

Rafn grew increasingly restless the closer we got to Trondheim. He was moody and snapped at anything. He wanted the letter I carried, and I'm certain he would have taken it by force - if he could. But something prevented him from doing so. He stared at my tunic, for I hid the letter there. His hands twitched, but he winced in pain whenever he got too near. The joy I felt about the journey drifted away like a dandilion seed. Now, I only wanted to reach our destination and rid myself of the cursed letter, and of my dark companion.

My desire to look into his wound also waned, for I feared any future event I might see there.

What if I witness my own death? I wondered. Yet, the visions had made me understand the past, and prepared me for things to come.

Just one more glimpse into the future, I convinced myself. If it is dire, I can always turn and look away.

Two days ride from Trondheim, I took a final look into that well of visions and I saw myself. The murder of ravens from the hanging tree surrounded me. They perched on my arms and nipped at my tunic in play, and I gently ruffled their feathers in return. Rafn stood beside me, not in the shape of man or wolf, but in that of a huge raven. He was three times the size of a grown man and yet I was unafraid. For now I understood the bond he had with the ravens.

• it was the love shared between parent and child.

---

The vision from that day has haunted me through the years, for it was as startling back then, as it is today.

It was a shock to see my future self. I was a grown man of some thirty-five years, but through my young eyes I looked very old. Yet it eased me to know I'd live for many years. Today, that moment I saw in that vision lies fifteen years behind me. I still remember the beard I wore then, and how much it itched. And I remember thinking this is the moment of my vision, the day it passed by. Then that moment died, and time gave birth to something new and unseen. Many times I feared for my sanity, for gazing upon your own future, can drive you mad if that future is horrid -and you have no means of changing it.

I now understood the warning given by the old crones around the fireplace:

_ *You will know the Valraven by the eye in his wing that grants the beholder * _

_ *Sight beyond the three realms. * _

_ *Song of past, present and future. * _

_ *Sorrows of insight, insanity or death. * _

---

One day's ride from Trondheim, we made a stop in a small bygd called Turnu, to rest the horses. We sat down and ate a quiet meal of bread and dried meat, when we heard the plaintive cry of a woman. Then, a strange procession of four men approached the village. They carried a fifth man between them, on a makeshift frame made from birch branches.

A boy of my age walked behind them, leading a horse by the reins.

"A falling tree struck Tjalfi," said the boy. "I think he's dying."

The wounded man breathed and seemed awake, but he rested in a strange position as if something inside him had broken. Yet he did not cry out in pain. At this moment I wished my mother had been with us to offer him potions and relief.

"His back is broken," said the village Elder. "He'll live, but he may wither from the neck and down."

"My husband," cried the woman. "What will become of my child and me if he is crippled?"

The Elder sighed. "Our village is poor and we have little to spare. If he needs a constant supply of pain relief, you must move to Trondheim."

"Call for a gothi," she cried. "Tell him to beseech every god to make my Tjalfi whole again."

"The gods don't grant requests like that," said the Elder." Your husband has provided for you, but now you must be the one to care for him."

"Then tell the gothi to call upon Loki," she cried. "Loki will hear us."

"Do...not... mention his name young one, "shouted the Elder. "Loki may hear you, but he is the god of trickery and deceit. You can't trust his help."

_"Maybe I can be of help." _

The voice of Rafn cut through the crowd like a torch through fog. He had stopped eating and followed the discussion with great interest.

"Are you a medicus?" asked the Elder.

"If that is what you desire," said Rafn.

The Elder looked thoughtful for a few moments, then his eyes widened as he realised to whom he was speaking.

"Tjalfi is the best carpenter we have", said the Elder finally. "He's very important to our village."

"Then carry him back to their house and leave us be," commanded Rafn.

Four villagers lifted the stretcher off the ground and carried Tjalfi towards a stone hut. He winced and sweat ran down his forehead, but he never complained.

Solveig was about to follow them, but the Elder grabbed her by the arm and led her away from the rest of us. He spoke to her in a low voice and the chill wind carried most of their words away from us.

"... sure of this?" asked the Elder.

"Anything, "cried Solveig. "Just make him well again."

"You!" commanded the Elder and motioned at me. "You will sleep in the stables."

I took our horses and led them into the barn next to the hut. A thick layer of straw covered the floor, so I unpacked my bedroll and covered myself with blankets. I shivered, but not only from the cold. I had no idea what deal Rafn and Solveig had made, but I feared the worst.

Hours of waiting passed. I pressed my ear to the stone wall and heard the rustling of people moving around. Solveig cried softly, but no one spoke a word. It was almost dark when they left the house.

"He will need rest and proper food," said Rafn. "But I have mended his spine and he will be on his feet before the month of Hornung."

I peeked through the door and saw him conversing with the village Elder. His hands were bloody and his eyes were dark from exhaustion.

"And your price?" asked the Elder.

"You know my price," said Rafn and washed the blood off his hands in a horse's drinking trough.

---

I didn't see Rafn any more that day, and it suited me fine. I slept in the barn among the livestock, and it wasn't until the moon stood high, that I had company. There was a rustling sound outside the barn and initially I thought it was the boy. To my surprise, it was Solveig. She had covered her face with a length of veil, now she sat down before me with a jug of mead and a bowl of hot food.

"You husband?" I asked.

"Tjalfi is asleep."

She put down an oil lamp and unwrapped a bundle of sheepskin while I ate.

"I'm freezing cold," I said.

"So am I," replied Solveig. "Hold me so we may both stay alive."

I embraced her, and we sat for a while, enjoying the comfort of body warming body. The night was quiet and only the bleating of sheep revealed that we were close to life.

"Your clothes are wet," she said. "You should take them off and hang them up to dry."

I had never been with a woman before, but I knew this was about to change - and so did my body.

By the time I had disrobed, my member stood out like a branch.

She began to stroke me, and my childhood evaporated between her hands.

"Take me!" she whispered. "Take me so I may bear another child."

"But you already have both husband and child," I said. "Why me?"

"Your heart is pure. That way the Valraven cannot have my child again."

"Again?" I was perplexed.

"Your travelling companion," she said. "He claimed my child as payment for saving Tjalfi."

"Rafn took your child?" Her words were odd, for Rafn had never struck me as the parenting kind. Besides, what did he want with someone else's child.

"He's the Valraven. Didn't you know?"

"He feeds on the remains of warfare," I said.

"The Valraven can also grant you any wish, but his price is always that, which you love the most."

While she spoke, she took off her robe and lay down on the bedroll. She was naked, and she shivered from the cold.

"Cover me," she said. And I did.

I covered her with my body and with the hides, and in a spasm that made the barn tremble, I left my seed inside her.

"What are you going to tell your husband?" I asked.

Solveig shrugged. "Tjalfi is a good and gentle man, and an able carpenter. But his seed is sour and does not sprout. Little Vigge too, was his in heart only."

I rubbed her belly, knowing that my own seed was inside her now, and that I was no longer a boy.

"Only good can come from good," said Solveig. "And that's what I will call little Magnus here."

"Magnus, the good?" It was evident that she could not name the child Askuldsson after me, so Magnus the good would have to do.

"I think he'll like that."

---

I left early the next morning. Solveig was back with Tjalfi, tending to him. Saying goodbye was awkward, for I knew I would never see her again, and little Magnus would grow up without knowing his true father. But there was much at stake, and I hurried towards Trondheim.

I almost made it to the city gates when a dark familiar figure approached me from the other side.

"Give me the letter," he said. There was a cold, yet determined look in his eyes that frightened me.

"It's not yours to carry" I replied.

"I won't be the carrier, nor the errand-boy."

"You mean to destroy it."

Rafn nodded. "You are quick to learn."

And I realised that all the horseback riding had been for show only. He never needed to journey with us, he could fly and be ahead of us at all times.

"You never meant for the letter to reach Trondheim."

"Of course not," said the Valraven. "If that letter is delivered, peace will break out and leave me and mine to starve.

"The ravens by the tree?" I asked.

"My children," he replied. "All born from human desire. This morning, another raven joined them, and he will fly with us."

_ *I feed off your wars. * _

_ I grow from your hatred. _

_ Your desires are my seed. _

_ Without your darkness _

_ we wither. _

"So why didn't you take the letter from me at the start of our journey?" I asked.

"Your heart was pure and I could not force you." Rafn grabbed me and pressed his hand to my chest, like he had done once before.

"But times have changed - and so have you." This time there was a tugging sensation in my heart as if he was trying to pull at it.

Then a smile that had formed across his mouth stiffened and withered.

"It's still pure!" he screamed, and his voice was no longer that of a man, but that of a beast.

"How?"

"I know what you are," I said. "Solveig told me as much."

"You're still innocent; too young to know of hatred." his voice had grown into a howl of rage, and I held my ears to shield myself from the thunderous roar.

"I wish we had met one summer from now."

"I'll protect my sheep till then," I said.

Rafn laughed out loud. It was a terrible hoarse roar, like a murder of a million ravens cawing in unison.

"Just what flock of sheep will you protect with your sword of birch? Your own kind - or the Christians."

"I will protect every child of Midgard. I will protect them against those who play man against man and faith against faith. And I will do so with my humble staff, and my heart shall bear no hatred towards my fellow man."

"Then spend your hatred on ME," shouted Rafn with the voice of thunder, and his shout echoed off the hillsides.

"I took Solveig's child, I turn brother against brother and I led the soldiers to Kjappi, for I feed off the darkness within the human heart."

"I can't defeat you through hatred," I cried. "For hate walks in your shadow, and he does as you bid. Solveig has taught me of love, and of the light it brings. She carries my seed, and it took neither sacrifice nor deal. I will hate no one

_ -not even you."_

To my surprise, Rafn stopped shouting, and he broke into a weary smile.

"Then love is now your shadow, as hatred is mine," said the Valraven.

"I have trained you well."

In that moment he looked exhausted and he began to change before my eyes. The skin around his eyes turned dark and his face grew deep furrows, like a field when it's ploughed.

"But why?" I asked. "Why did you train me into becoming something you are not?"

"There can be no night without a day, and no shadow without sun," Said the Valraven. "If there is no light to tame me, my hunger shall devour all of Midgard."

While we spoke, the shape of his head grew long and his hair turned into a coat of black feathers. His hands grew claw-like and his mouth became a beak.

"I...need you to tame me," he said.

"We must travel together, like sun and moon."

Then he spread his wings, the right of which bore a hole.

"I can see the whole of the sky through your wing," I said.

"Naturally. Once you've broken the spell of the Valraven, you see through illusion and falsehood alike."

He then flapped his mighty wings and lifted off the ground. He was slow at first, clumsy, and the wind whistled through his wing.

"Now go, Askuld of the pure heart. For I believe you have an errand to run."

He flew high, and the winter sun cast his mighty shadow across the town.

Then his shadow too, flew away.

---