I told you not to sleep.
The heavily fleabitten stallion groaned, opening his dull, lifeless eyes to stare at the darkness that surrounded him. He had barely even drifted off before the blood curdling cries had started to rattle through his mind. Beneath the screams came heart wrenching sobs. He could no longer tell if these were memories or just a recurring nightmare. He had lost all sense of reality. He wondered if he had ever really grasped it at all.
He sucked in a rattling breath, the force of the air sending a tickling pain through his chest, as if his lungs were not used to being filled.
You look like shit.
His ears flicked back in annoyance, but he knew the voice was not wrong. As the months drifted by, he shrank more and more into the shadow of his former self. His skeleton was clearly visible beneath the dull, thin coat that was draped over it. Parts of his mane and tail had fallen out in chunks and become tangled in the bedraggled knots still attached to the ailing body. Small scrapes which should have healed weeks ago remained angry and swollen and on the verge of festering. He noticed none of it.
Are you just going to lie there and rot?
He squeezed his eyes shut hard, trying to ignore the familiar voice and the residual echo of the screams what had filled his head just moments before. “What else would you have me do?” His voice was weak and sounded foreign. For a moment he wondered if it was even his voice or just another that resided within his head. Most of the time they spoke directly to him but other times they held conversations amongst themselves as if he didn’t exist.
Oh, I don’t know. How about getting up and actually doing something hálfviti? As much as we’d all like to see you struck from this earth, I can’t help but think of the poor child that might stumble upon your decaying corpse. I’m sure that would just be another -
Leave him be. Soft, feminine words cut off the taunt with authority. He opened his eyes with a snap and was met by a vision so beautiful he could only gasp in response. She was the whitest-white he has ever seen, her spotless hide sparkling in the darkness like she was the moon embodied within a horse. Her mane was long and flowing, billowing gently against the soft breeze that seemed to dance around her. He envied the air for being so close to her.
After a long awestruck moment passed, he finally contemplated the words she spoke. He cocked his head, whispering so that no one else might hear, “You hear them too?” . The white mare laughed kindly, and dropped her head to place and comforting touch against his cheek. Her breath was warm and sweet Of course, sweet one. They are svartálfar elves, mara. You must truly be the blood of gods to hear their taunts so clearly. She turned away from him then and began to walk towards the shore.
His heart ached to be near her and he struggled to rise and follow after her. In his weak and malnourished state, this should have been a difficult task but her pull was too strong to notice the aching cracks in his joints or the fuzziness in his mind. “Who are you?” he asked, catching up. She turned her head to look at him. Her gentle eyes struck him with a calmness he had forgotten he could feel. I am the goddess Rán. A goddess! Of course! His ears strained forwards to hang on her every word. We have been watching you from Asgard sweet one. The mara have taken a great interest in you which means you must be very special to our cause. Him? Special? It took all his effort to tear his gaze away from her. He looked to the ground instead, ashamed. “I would not be so sure. They know things…” Rán scoffed at his uncertainty, And I do not? We see everything sweet one and have consulted with Vor. Do not be ashamed of things you had no control over. A strange feeling washes over him, a feeling he hadn’t had in a long time; hope.
The whiter than snow coloured mare entered the water, her coat glowing like a beacon against the darkness. Even the moon was dull in comparison. Join me, she said, beckoning him into the cool water with a toss of her dished head and an inviting smile. He did.
The water welcomed him like an old friend, embracing and entwining his limbs; pulling him deeper and deeper into their depths. When they reached his belly, he was struck by sudden panic. “I…I think I should return to the shore.” Rán looked at him, those blue eyes drawing him in with promises of warmth and safety. Nonsense, you are safe with me. Come. He was torn. He wanted to follow her and yet, he did not feel safe enough to do so.
He twisted away from her, struggling against the pull of the ocean’s grip. “NO!” He protested, panic beginning to rise like bile in his throat. He pushed hard, kicking at the net that sought to draw him under the water.
Do not fear sweet one, it will all be over soon.
Something in her tone made him turn yet he wished he hadn’t. Her glow had turned sickly and terrifying, her alluring blue eyes now sunken sockets and her striking white coat now awash with rotten, peeling flesh. Her tresses were soaked, dirty and matted and fell away with bits of flesh still attached. Thorfinn recoiled, his rear end giving way as he slipped on the rocks below his hooves. His hip struck jagged, solid rock with loud thump. A sharp pain shot down his leg and along his belly and bright red swirled and mingled with the water that still sought to pull him down.
Somehow, he crawled onto the shore, limping and gasping for breath. Morbid curiosity got the best of him and he turned, his dull eyes searching for the creature in the water. All that remained of her was a slightly glowing slick on the water’s surface. Comprehension failed him for a long moment before he remembered.
“Rán” he breathed with sudden realisation. That realisation then descended into manic laughter. "Rán” he repeated, his voice high pitched and breaking as he continued to laugh, all the while repeating her name over and over.
Guess we’re the least of your problems.
And for once, though he barely heard them over his own hysterical laughter, he was relieved to hear a familiar voice.
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