10:44, March 1, 2284

  Booth 71, Café Aurora, 7F, Helios Hall, No. 12, Aurora Plaza, ?resund District, Lund, Sweden, Nordic Commonwealth Territory

  Sigrún sat alone in the corner booth of Café Aurora, her slender fingers tapping anxiously against the ceramic mug before her. Steam rose in lazy spirals from the latte, dissipating into the cafe's warm air as she waited for Thorin H?ggsson. The café hummed with the quiet conversations of students and professors, a gentle backdrop to her turbulent thoughts.

  Her cascade of platinum blonde hair fell in gentle waves past her shoulders, framing a face of delicate Nordic beauty. The pale ivory of her skin contrasted with the soft blush of her lips and the arresting depth of her crystalline blue eyes—eyes that now darted toward the entrance, scanning for her contact. She'd wrapped a soft gray scarf around the neck of her cream-colored blouse, a futile shield against the vulnerability she felt.

  But before she could deliver what Harald had entrusted to her, she would have to endure the man sitting opposite her.

  "So, how much do you need?" Finn Lindberg asked, desire evident in his gaze as it roved over her form. He wasn't truly her classmate—just a dropout with a wealthy father who spoiled him with enough money to frequent the Leased Lilies on campus. Under normal circumstances, Sigrún would never entertain his company.

  But today, she needed money. Financial security to survive this semester in Lund before her plans to leave Earth could materialize.

  Finn shifted in his chair, drawing her reluctant attention. The sharp blue of his gaze locked onto hers, his muscular confidence evident in every movement. "Hey, Ulrich told me the other day. Said your mother was a whore, too. That true?" he probed, his voice thick with entitlement rather than genuine curiosity.

  "Yeah, people paid her for sex. Got a problem with that?" Sigrún's response came sharply as she observed him—his ivory skin, blond hair, and eyes mirroring her own. Reflections of a supposed celestial pairing. 'Two Nordic stars destined to intertwine,' as their classmates always said. The thought coiled in her gut like a serpent.

  "I guess her daughter did take after her, huh?" Finn shrugged, a smirk playing across his face. "Anyway, how much do you need as part of the—lease?"

  "Just enough for me to make it through this semester," she replied with forced nonchalance, one hand absently adjusting the strap of the black shoulder bag resting beside her.

  "Hmm." Finn placed a finger on his chin in mock contemplation. "I say 2000 Atomic Dollars per month. Upfront and non-negotiable."

  "Too low. The cost of living here is 3000 Atomic Dollars. I'm not stupid." Sigrún's finger traced the rim of her coffee cup, the warmth contrasting with the chill of dread icing her veins. The ambient chatter of Café Aurora buzzed around her, yet she felt adrift in a sea of unease.

  "I thought Professor Omdal was giving you enough money?" Finn's eyes narrowed.

  "My pa... he hasn't called since I left Oslo," she murmured. Her hand found solace in the small pendant at her neck, its cold metal an anchor amidst the storm of her thoughts. "And no, he paid for my tuition. Everything else, I'm on my own."

  "Fair enough." Finn tilted his head as he reached into his pocket and withdrew a holo-contract, his strong hand covering the title, revealing only the blank signature field to Sigrún. "4000 Atomic Dollars per month."

  "I won't be here forever. I need to save enough money to get off Earth when summer comes."

  "You better know how to moan in J?turmál when we hop in bed, then," Finn chuckled before taking out a stylus and passing it to Sigrún. "8000 ATDs per month, lasting from now to the end of July. During its effect, you will come to me whenever I have need, and we do it HOWEVER I like it."

  "Deal." Sigrún reached for the stylus, but Finn grabbed her hand mid-air.

  "Try to tell this to anyone, or leave Earth before the lease expires..." Finn said, his words hanging in the air like a threat, "and I have ways to make you suffer."

  "I understand..." Sigrún lowered her head, suppressing the disgust roiling in her mind before lifting her gaze to meet Finn's with manufactured confidence. "...min herre [“my master”]," she added, biting her lip with just the right amount of feigned seduction.

  "Now that's a good Lily." Finn grinned before reaching out to comb his fingers through her platinum blonde hair. The touch made Sigrún's skin crawl.

  Ignoring him, Sigrún looked down at the document and signed her name, placing the stylus on the table before meeting his gaze once more. "I need to meet someone else at 11. Do you mind?"

  The signed lease glowed on the table, her name emblazoned across it. The title pulsed with a blue light: 'Leased Lily - Sigrún Fjeld in service to Finn Lindberg: 03/01/2284 to 07/31/2284'

  "Fine by me." Finn stood, gathering the contract and preparing to leave. "I look forward to our sweet time together."

  Sigrún stared blankly at the wall across the room, grateful for the privacy the booth afforded, shielding her from the cafe's other patrons.

  The door hissed closed behind Finn as he left.

  With a deep sigh, her heart pounding with a mixture of shame and anxiety, Sigrún lifted her coffee and drained the last of the latte. A tear escaped her sapphire eye, tracing down her ivory cheek. Then another. And another. Soon, she was quietly sobbing.

  A few minutes passed before the door chime rang. The next man she needed to meet. The man she needed to deliver something important to.

  A soft tone emanated from the table's embedded communicator. Sigrún pressed the button, and the holographic image of a silver-haired man materialized. "It is I, Thorin."

  "Please come in," Sigrún said simply, wiping away the tears on her cheeks with a napkin.

  The door slid open to reveal Thorin H?ggsson—a figure of imposing wisdom and weathered strength. His silver-streaked dark hair was swept back from a face that bore the lines of a century's worth of experiences. Piercing green eyes surveyed the room with a warrior's vigilance, set in a face framed by a neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard. He wore traditional robes that spoke of his connection to the old ways—a brown outer robe over a pristine white inner garment, secured with an ornate metal belt. The ensemble gave him the air of a sage or mystic, though the broad shoulders and straight posture beneath spoke of a warrior's discipline.

  Thorin entered the room, scanning the space with caution before taking the seat Finn had vacated. "Are you alright?" he asked, his baritone voice as rich and layered as his appearance suggested.

  "I'm fine, Thorin. I just..." Sigrún sighed as she set down her napkin and reached into her chest pocket, extracting the vial of shimmering liquid. She passed it to Thorin. "Pa told me to give this to you."

  Thorin accepted the vial, studying its shimmering contents with those penetrating green eyes. His gaze returned to Sigrún. "Did Harald tell you about his plan, then?"

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  "No?" Sigrún tried to mask her exhaustion. The past two days had worn heavily on her.

  "So you don't know anything about this vial? What's in it? Why Harald gave it to you?"

  "'M?ne kaller p? m?ne.'" Sigrún recited, the words emerging like an oath. "That's what he wanted me to tell you."

  Thorin merely nodded, a stiff silence settling between them. His hands—strong yet graceful despite their age—closed around the vial, the metal clasp of his robe catching the light as he shifted in his seat.

  "What do you know about Europa?" Thorin pressed, his baritone voice firm.

  "It's the Nordic Moon. I'm planning to get a shuttle there after I save up here," Sigrún replied, absently adjusting a strand of platinum hair that had fallen across her face.

  "Is that why you signed a lease with Finn, then? Trading your own soul for enough money to get off-world?" Thorin's green eyes narrowed, the lines around them deepening.

  Sigrún felt judged. "How did you..."

  "Saw him skulking around downstairs. Only one reason he even comes to these parts after being flunked out." Thorin scoffed, shaking his head and looking out the window, his profile stern against the light.

  "Well, it's my right to decide what to do with my body, isn't it?" Sigrún shot back, her delicate features hardening with defiance.

  "It is," Thorin slumped in his chair, the rich fabric of his robes settling around him. "But if you were my daughter, I'd disown you in a heartbeat."

  "Good thing that's none of your concern, then." Sigrún gritted her teeth, her blue eyes flashing.

  "Aside from being the moon where Nordlings settle, Europa is also where Harald has stored his experiments, on the southern pole." Thorin adjusted his posture, the metal clasp of his belt glinting as he moved. His green eyes fixed on the pendant around Sigrún's slender neck. "That jewel in your pendant. It's dangerous. Give it to me."

  "What? No." With one hand, Sigrún clutched the Pendant of Mánagrát protectively, holding it close to her chest, the other hand gripping the edge of the table.

  "Without the Pendant of Mánagrát, this vial by itself won't be of any use." Thorin held up the vial, his strong fingers wrapped around it as if brandishing it to make his point.

  "Tell me what they're for. Both of them." Sigrún demanded, her soft features set with determination.

  "I will." Thorin's posture tensed at her demand. He leaned forward, one hand extended toward Sigrún, palm up. "But first, give me the Pendant. I promise to give you answers. Then you'll see why you shouldn't have it."

  "Only if you promise me safe passage off-Earth. And get me a ride to Europa." Sigrún's nervousness only increased, the scarf around her neck seeming to tighten.

  Thorin scoffed again, looking aside before returning his penetrating gaze to Sigrún. "I can't. My organization doesn't have the money to spare."

  "Keep the vial, then. The Pendant is mine!" She stood up, making for the door, her platinum hair swinging with the abrupt movement.

  Thorin rose to his feet in one fluid motion, his robes swirling around him. The movement was startlingly swift for a man his age. "You don't understand what's at stake." His voice had dropped to a dangerous whisper. "That pendant contains power beyond your comprehension."

  Sigrún backed toward the door, her hand still clutching the pendant protectively. "I don't care. It's the last thing my father gave me."

  "Because he knew you would guard it with your life," Thorin's green eyes seemed to glow with an unnatural intensity. "But did he tell you why? Did he tell you what happens when the wrong hands control it?"

  A chill ran down Sigrún's spine. "What are you talking about?"

  "The pendant is a fragment, Sigrún. A piece of something ancient. Something that should have remained buried." Thorin's imposing frame seemed to fill the small booth as he stepped closer. "Your father has been experimenting. Creating things on Europa that should not exist."

  "You're lying," Sigrún whispered, but uncertainty crept into her voice.

  Thorin shook his head slowly. "The vial contains genetic material from his creations. The pendant is the key to controlling them." His hand moved to his belt, where something that looked suspiciously like the hilt of a weapon glinted. "Europa isn't a sanctuary, Sigrún. It's where he's building his army."

  "My father wouldn't—"

  "Your father," Thorin cut her off, "Harald Omdal. The Archmage of Buskerud. A man who believes Nordlings are superior to all other human bloodlines." His eyes fixed on hers. "And you are his crowning achievement."

  The pendant at Sigrún's throat suddenly felt ice-cold against her skin. The blue gem at its center began to pulse with a rhythm that matched her racing heartbeat.

  Thorin's expression softened, just slightly. "You don't know, do you? What you truly are?"

  His hand shot out suddenly, reaching for the pendant. Sigrún reacted instinctively, her hands moving in a pattern that felt as familiar as breathing.

  "Corpus meum leve ut pluma!" The Ordovox words tumbled from her lips, not to arrest a descent but to create distance. The air around her shimmered with silver blue light as she felt her body become light.

  With a backward step, she floated beyond Thorin's reach. The spell served her purpose, creating an uncanny, unsettling buffer between them.

  "Sigrún, stop!" Thorin commanded. "The pendant is awakening. Can't you feel it?"

  She could. The jewel pulsed with increasing intensity, sending waves of cold through her body. But she refused to surrender it.

  "Scutum Lunaris!" Another incantation left her lips, and a shimmering silver barrier materialized between them. Thorin's hand struck it, ripples of energy spreading from the impact point.

  "You cast just like him," Thorin said, his voice tinged with both admiration and dread. "The daughter of the Archmage indeed."

  "Stay away from me," Sigrún warned, backing toward the exit. "Whatever Pappa's done, whatever you think I am — I don't trust you."

  "The Radi-Mons he's been breeding, Sigrún." Thorin's called after her as she reached the door, expression grim. "They can sense the pendant. Sense your blood. They were made for you."

  "That's ridiculous. Pappa wouldn't save me from Sven just to have me become like him!" she shot back.

  "No. The Fenris Horde is flawed. Severely incomplete." Thorin shook his head. "What Harald was trying to make. They're different. But wrong in all the ways imaginable. Radi-Mons should not be man's slaves."

  A wave of vertigo swept over Sigrún, the floor seeming to tilt beneath her feet. Outside the café windows, the snow began to fall more heavily, swirling in unnatural patterns. For just a moment, she thought she saw faces in the flurries—elongated, inhuman faces with too many eyes.

  "You're lying," she whispered, but the pendant grew colder still, and with its chill came certainty. Something was watching her. Something ancient and hungry had turned its attention toward her.

  She yanked the door open and fled, her barrier spell dissolving behind her. Thorin's voice followed her down the corridor:

  "They're coming for you, Sigrún! The children of ice and shadow! They won't stop until they find what's hidden in your blood!"

  Sigrún ran, her heart thundering in her chest. As she burst out of Café Aurora into Helios Hall, the crowds parted around her—but not quickly enough. She collided with a tall figure, nearly losing her balance.

  "Careful there," a familiar voice said, hands steadying her shoulders.

  She looked up to see Sven Solheim smiling down at her, his eyes impossibly blue against his tan skin. The same Sven who, in another future, would become the monstrous Skarn.

  "You alright?" he asked, but his voice seemed to reverberate strangely, as if speaking from both the past and the present simultaneously. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

  "Sven…" Sigrún muttered, disbelief lacing her voice. "But you…"

  Behind him, through the vast windows of Helios Hall, Sigrún saw the snow falling more heavily. But it wasn't falling naturally anymore—it was swirling, coalescing into massive, serpentine shapes that writhed against the glass like living things trying to break through.

  And in the reflection of Sven's eyes, she saw something else: a flicker of red, a glimpse of tentacles, a future that hadn't happened yet.

  The pendant burned against her skin. The world around her began to blur and fragment—

  "Sigrún, go! The vial – take it to Thorin. Tell him 'M?ne kaller p? m?ne' – Moon calls to moon."

  "But Pappa—"

  "There's no time, Synne." His eyes flicked to Sven, whose transformation was nearly complete, then back to her. "The vial. The pendant. Both must survive."

  "She could be magnificent, Harald!" Sven's roar shook the terminal windows. "Like I!" His chest had split open, revealing chitinous plates beneath. "I'll show her what we can become together!"

  Two tentacles breached the barrier. Harald grunted with effort, silver light blazing from his hands. "Keep both safe. Promise me."

  "I...I..." her lips parted, but no more words came.

  The Pendant of Mánagrát grew cold against her ivory skin, its blue light fading to darkness. Her father... gone?

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