A Song for Winter: Not the One

William’s eyes shot open with a jolt, revealing a beautiful rainbow-colored sky without a cloud. Grass tickled the folf’s back as he suddenly realized he was shirtless in a field. Scars, burns, and other old injuries danced across his chest. As he sat up, William could see in the distance a large ash tree with an old man with an eye patch and a wide-brimmed black hat sitting underneath it. Immediately William recognized the Allfather’s favorite disguise and the realization of where he was hit him. This was it; this was the end; William had died. Head hung low William walked to the place where the Allfather rested. 

 

“What's with the downturn eyes,” the Allfather asked while taking a puff off of a pipe. William realized that he had never actually seen the Allfather’s true form before. Every time the two had met the Allfather had appeared as an old man. William had heard all kinds of stories about the Allfather and had an image in his head of what he looked like but had never had its accuracy confirmed. It probably had something to do with divine beings not being about to reveal their true forms to mortals without the mortal being driven insane.

 

“I died,” William answered with a defeated tone, “you picked me as your chosen one and I failed. Now everyone is going to fall beneath the heel of The Matriarch.” 

 

“You’re not dead,” The Allfather reassured William with a chuckle,” and you were never my chosen one nor were you supposed to beat The Matriarch.” These revelations hit William hard and caused him to stumble backward a few steps. The Allfather took another puff from his pipe before he continued, “I granted you enough power to protect my chosen until they came of age however all of this wasn’t supposed to happen for another fifteen years. You were never meant to fight this war.”

 

“If I’m not the chosen…,” William started before he trailed off. William stood there for a moment as he tried to do the math. There was a moment when he wasn’t going to figure it out when it finally clicked for him. “Jaina,” William exclaimed, “Jaina is the Ragnar!” The Allfather confirmed this with a nod and a smile. “She can’t fight The Matriarch,” William shouted in frustration, “Jaina is still a child and there is no way this war is going to be held at a stalemate for fifteen fucking years!”

 

“Right you are and Jaina won’t actually need to fight The Matriarch but she’ll still have a part to play before this is all over,” the Allfather explained as he stood and leaned heavily on a walking stick. “I’m going to send you back to Midgard for you are still needed. I can’t grant you any extra powers but you already have a wonderful power you should utilize more often,” The Allfather paused before he quickly rapped William on his head with the walking stick. “Your friends,” was the last thing William heard as he blacked out.

 

For the second time that day, William’s eyes shot open with a jolt. He was laid out on a bed in the medbay of The Harlock. All sorts of wires, needles, tubes, and monitors were hooked up to the grievously injured folf. Despite the multiple colors of liquids that were being pumped into him everything hurt. Violet sat nearby and immediately rushed to William’s side when the lioness saw that he was awake. 

 

“I know you have the desire the save as many people as you can and be the hero because of what happened,” Violet whispered through tears, “and when faced with insurmountable odds you will always choose to keep fighting. I love that about you but if you rush into a situation like that again without proper intel and backup you can forget about coming home to me if you survive.” Weakly William reached up to brush the tears off his fiancee’s face. The simple motion sent searing agony through his entire arm.

 

“The Allfather said something similar,” William rasped out painfully, “but I feel like I should’ve known that all along.” In the months that followed William mostly dictated war plans from a bed while he recovered from his wounds. William’s recovery was slow and painful but he had learned his lesson. There was no point in trying to win a war if it risked leaving behind a widow and two children.