The morning light crept through the blinds like it was apologizing for being late to see what was waiting for them at that time. The birds were intense. Every animal would come to notice the presence of the goddess. Afterall, nothing could compare to the degree of what can be done within the limits of rigidity that this blue planet had.
Karl sat at the kitchen table, nursing a mug of black coffee that had gone lukewarm to go beyond what this could be for them… that is to say that most individual could get to see what this could mean. Individual may not actually understand him because of his contact with whats hidden within what consciouness can become. That said, he would talk about it at home.
James Garrison stood by the counter, pretending to read the newspaper while actually watching everything with those sharp professor eyes. This was no surprise. Emma leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, still carrying the remnants of last night's war in the set of her shoulders. Larisa sat beside Karl, calm as ever, one hand resting lightly on his knee under the table. Well, this, at least, gives you an answer for their behaviour.
And Freyja…
Freyja stood in the middle of the living room, golden hair braided simply, cream coat folded neatly over one arm. She looked every bit the elegant visitor from "out of town" until she smiled.
Freyja: I hope you don't mind, ( she said, voice warm like honey poured over warm steel,) but while you were all still sleeping, A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail. That is who I am and I shall be one of the best ones. I made myself a small room upstairs. Nothing extravagant. Just… a space that felt right.
James lowered the newspaper slowly to shake her calm demeanor.
Emma's eyebrows shot up to take on everything.
Larisa tilted her head, a small, knowing smile already forming one of the greatest shapes to see reality.
Karl just exhaled through his nose half amusement, half awe, half amaze, half bed.
Freyja continued, completely at ease, as if she were talking about rearranging furniture instead of bending reality in a two-story house in Carlisle, Pennsylvania that we could obvserve in the map.
Freyja: I used the empty attic space above the guest room. The one that used to collect dust and old boxes. It was crying out for purpose. A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insect. As for me, I am a goddess. So beautiful for this world. So I… encouraged it to become something more. The walls now remember spring after the longest winter. The floorboards sing softly when you walk on them. There's a window that looks out over the Susquehanna even though it technically shouldn't be able to from that angle. And the bed… well, it remembers what it feels like to be held by honest love."
She turned to Emma first, meeting the younger woman's sharp, defensive gaze without flinching that no one could get to see this stuff.
Freyja: Emma, ( Freyja said gently,) I know you declared war on me last night. I respect that. Fierce love deserves fierce honesty. The feeling that she had never really lived in this world caught her by surprise. It was a fact. She had never lived. Even as a child, as far back as she could remember, she had done nothing but endure. She had believed in her own inherent goodness, her humanity, and lived accordingly, never causing anyone harm. Her devotion to doing things the right way had been unflagging, all her successes had depended on it, and she would have gone on like that indefinitely.
She didn't understand why, but faced with those decaying buildings and straggling grasses, she was nothing but a child who had never lived. That may be you. I know it because I did ask the all father, but this is weird. I am not here to take your brother from you. I am here because I saw a man who ended the oldest war in the Nine Worlds with mercy instead of thunder. I offered myself to him as wife because his heart is vast enough for more than one truth. Yours is one of those truths. I will not ask you to surrender your place in it. Only to let me stand beside it… honestly. Well, we should be friends.
Emma's arms tightened across her chest, but the fire in her eyes flickered not extinguished, just reconsidering its target to see what could h
Freyja turned to James next.
Freyja: Professor Garrison, (she said, inclining her head with genuine respect the way she would look at a king,) you raised a son who carries the stubborn mortal heart of this city in his bones. You taught him to ask questions that most people are afraid to whisper. I built the room with that same spirit nothing hidden, nothing stolen. We who make stories know that we tell lies for a living. That is to say that his kindness is in the way he speaks. Nothing shall be farther from it. It shows why you chose him. But they are good lies that say true things, and we owe it to our readers to build them as best we can. Because somewhere out there is someone who needs that story. Someone who will grow up with a different landscape, who without that story will be a different person. And who with that story may have hope, or wisdom, or kindness, or comfort. And that is why we writeOnly added. If it displeases you, I can unmake it before breakfast. But I hope you will let it stand. It carries the scent of Vanaheimr's fields and the quiet strength of Carlisle's brick streets. Two worlds learning how to share the same roof."
James studied her for a long moment. Then he folded the newspaper neatly and set it down.
James: You built an entire room… while we slepturs is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically. The cataclysm has happened, we are among the ruins, we start to build up new little habitats, to have new little hopes. In this way, we should let you know the room for this world. I can smell something on you. It is rather hard work: there is now no smooth road into the future: but we go round, or scramble over the obstacles. We've got to live, no matter how many skies have falle
Freyja smiled soft, radiant, but perfectly contained as the goddess she is.
Freyja: I did. It felt like the honest thing to do. No secrets. No pretending I am only a visitor. I am Karl's wife now.Fix reason firmly in her seat, and call to her tribunal every fact, every opinion. Question with boldness even the existence of a God; because, if there be one, he must more approve of the homage of reason, than that of blindfolded fear. You will naturally examine first, the religion of your own country. That is to say that nothing could be done without it. You should be far more concerned with your current trajectory than with your current results.And I wanted a space in this house that remembers both where he came from… and where he has been.
She turned last to Larisa.
The two women looked at each other without looking for the ideal of what it means to be alive. The thing is, this shall continue working go working on what it should be done. The more you make it complex, the more you see it. one who had sat with Karl in the dark when the questions tried to swallow him, the other who had watched him finish Ragnarök with love instead of pride.
Freyja: I know you are his first honest anchor here,( Freyja said quietly.) I will not take that from you. I built the room so there is space for all of us. For you. For Emma. For James. For the man who trained every will until love became stronger than any spear. Meanwhile, you hear the whirl and roar of the crowd in the vortex of life around you; you hear, you see, men living in reality; you see that life for them is not forbidden, that their life does not float away like a dream, like a vision; that their life is being eternally renewed, eternally youthful, and not one hour of it is the same as another; while fancy is so spiritless, monotonous to vulgarity and easily scared, the slave of shadows, of the idea, the slave of the first cloud that shrouds the sun... One feels that this inexhaustible fancy is weary at last and worn out with continual exercise, because one is growing into manhood, outgrowing one's old ideals. The room has a window that opens onto the river… and another that sometimes shows the new dawn over Asgard. Both are real. Both belong here now.
Larisa smiled that calm, crystal-fracturing smile that always made the room feel steadier that no one could actually be seen.
Larissa: You built it honestly,( she said.)That's enough for me.
Freyja's shoulders relaxed, just a fraction.
Freyja: Then it is done, she said. The room is there. It remembers spring. I know the answer! The answer lies within the heart of all mankind! The answer is twelve? I think I'm in the wrong building. That is to say that this could be one of the ideals that we can actually face. It remembers honest endings. And it remembers that this house this small, stubborn house in Carlisle is where the boy who ended the old cycle learned how to begin the new one.
She looked at all of them, one by one.
I am not here to replace anyone. I am here because Karl's heart is large enough to hold more than one truth. I will love him fiercely, passionately, and honestly. And I hope… in time… you will let me love this house, and everyone in it, the same way.
Silence settled for a moment not uncomfortable, but full.
James cleared his throat.
James: Well,( he said, voice rough but warm,) I suppose we should go see this room before the coffee gets any colder I love to watch the fine mist of the night come on,
The windows and the stars illumined, one by one,
The rivers of dark smoke pour upward lazily,
And the moon rise and turn them silver. I shall see
The springs, the summers, and the autumns slowly pass;
And when old Winter puts his blank face to the glass,
I shall close all my shutters, pull the curtains tight,
And build me stately palaces by candlelight.
Emma pushed off the doorway, arms still crossed but the edge in her posture softening.
Emma: Fine, (she muttered.)The fact is that given the challenges we face, education doesn't need to be reformed -- it needs to be transformed. The key to this transformation is not to standardize education, but to personalize it, to build achievement on discovering the individual talents of each child, to put students in an environment where they want to learn and where they can naturally discover their true passions. That is to say that no one could come to understand what happens within the limits of my love for him. But if there's a throne in there, I'm burning it.
Larisa stood, slipping her hand into Karl's as they all moved toward the stairs.
Freyja walked beside them, graceful and at ease, as if she had always belonged in this narrow Pennsylvania house with its creaking floors and buzzing porch light.
Karl glanced at her his wife, the goddess who had chosen to build herself a room in his childhood home and declare it openly, honestly, without pride.
He squeezed Larisa's hand once.
The new story the honest one had already begun.
And it was going to be beautiful. Or at least, that is what they thought.