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 Posted: Tue Feb 05, 2008 9:50 am
Well here's the first book
comment here: ]http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?t=11885379
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Posted: Fri Feb 08, 2008 3:21 am
Prologue
,,Reverend Jón Magnússon woke up one night in the year 1648, in his home northwest in iceland, because something heavy was lying on his foot. Unclear he saw something big, black shadow at his bed site.
He knew who had sent that creature to him. He had hurt the pride of two mens, father and son. Both had the word for being a sorcerer.
Now it was time for their revenge.
The power of black magic.
The beginning of this strange and scary that the young girl from the west side of Norway was going trough in the turn of the century could be found in three well known sorcerybooks from a darck time in the history of Iceland.
The books where from the time when Gottskalk bishop the evil controled everything in the Latin school at Holar in the north part of iceland, from 1498 to 1520. Gottskal the evil knew a lot in magic, thet he had learned in the black magic school in Sorbonne.
The latinschool at Holar was so evil at that time that the arms of the evil that could be found there, streached all over time and space, and lost souls where hungry over their desire of getting thos three black magic books. Nobody that had heard about them was untuched by them.
Their influence even reaces our time, and the fear that followed them.
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Posted: Thu Feb 21, 2008 4:52 pm
Chapter 1
Norway, in the end of the 17th century.
Tiril was a youn girl that lived in Bjorgvin in Norway. She didn't trust people well and had a really good reason for that.
Instead she looked after company with animals, and had a good conection with them; her understanding seemed to be rewarded.
She had always been wery open and carefree. It wasn't that time when children where scolded so they would be well behaved and wouldn't be seen much in the community of the grown ups.
She would sometimes when she was a little girl hug some strangers out in the streets, just because she thought the pearson was kind. She had sometimes hugged some uncnown dogs in a lyricism way, or burst out in laughter just because of happiness. How unbelivable it even sounds, she was never bitten by a wild dog, but she sometimes got a hit on her ear from her mother or her babysitter for doing it.
She took parts in everything, wobbled on her short feet in her home, and loved the world, but especially her beloved beautiful mother. But her loved surrounded almost everyone.
Carla, her big sister was her second role model. Carla was as beautiful as her mother, with her blonde, long ringlet like an angel. Tiril had a stiff and brown hair that wouldn't be tames in beautiful ringlets, so she cut it like a monk, same length all the ring.
Her father was proud when he said her looked like Kritjan the 4th...
Her parents where from Kristjania. The family just moved resently to Bjorgvin, because her father got a good job with some buisnessman. Carla took it with her that they where teased for their dialect that they spoke and hurried to learn the new dialect. Tiril didn't care. She loved it when the kids teased her and exaggerated the dialect to entertain the kids.
The family lived well. Maybe not like richer people in town, but they where acepted. They got to take part in the social life in town, with the condition that they would know their limits.
The maids stopped for a short time. They dressed and made beautiful little Carla's hair, but they liked Tiril more with her good mood and her hospitality against them. But after few days they were always fired of the angry housemother. Tiril didn't undderstand why. She was always sad for a little time when they left, but then she became happy again.
Carla went with them when the family was invited somewhere, and she was showed to the guests to. Tiril thought it was compleatly normal and took part in making her sister beautiful and presentable, and she adored her big sister where she stood in full dress in front of the mirror, wiggling all over. The she stood in the stairs at the second floor, and almost got tears in her eyes, when her father took Carla's hand and said: "Here is my little doll".
Mom just laughed happy. Mom was wonderfyllu beautiful and Tirli got happy when all those young men went up to her. Then mom was the most beautiful and her laugh sounded like singing in Tiril's ears.
She hear her parent's voices trough the walls after every ball. Hard, angry voices. Tiril didn't understand this and was hurting a little. But the next day it was like nothing had happened. Mom didn't have time to chat, because she had a date with her friends at the fine restaurant by Torvalstreet; and her father hadn't time either, because he had so much to do in the office. For some unclear reason her called himself consul. Tiril was so proud of them.
It wasn't so good to say when she realised that the world wasn't that fun. It came little by little. Maybe it was when the sisters got to go for a walk with their mother and two babysitters in downtown.
They met a gentleman that their mom knew and he asked something, that mom answeared with a clear voice and laughing, so the four that walked behind heard: "No, no, these are not my girls! What does mister Brosten really think I'm old? And do you really think that the younger one looks like me?"
Carla blushed and became sad, and Tiril was surprised. "Aren't we...?" she began, and the other babysitter said right away: "Oh, yeas, Madam Dahl was just joking."
Maybe it was Carla's behavor that made her think that there wasn't everything okey in the family.
Carla cried so much. They had a sepperate room, the sisters, and there were many mornings that Tiril saw that Carla had been crying. She tried to ask why, but then Carla would just turn away and continue crying.
That hurt Tiril alot.
She didn’t have much in common with her father. He was tall, and serious man that had once been handsome and well dressed. Now he was bald under the wig, spherical stomach from bear and wine drinking. Tiril remembered that he had once adored his beautiful wife, but now they bearly talked together. It was cold betwen them, and even Tiril could feel the coldness.
Mom wasn't as beautif as she was. She was getting fatter in the face and always smelled of wine. Her laugh had gotten dissonant and brazen, and she was almost never at home.
Tiril went so in her nerves that she screamed: "Can no one control this brat?" and she had quit showing her beautiful daughter to the guests. To tease her husband she called Carla his goldenpig, then she went from home again. The father called after her: "Witch lover are you visiting now?" and she answered grumpy: "How does that concern you? It's not like you can do something in the bed anymore!"
Tiril was always growing and was starting to understand more. She always felt bad staying at home and stood aside from family meetings the best she could. It was necisary if she wanted to keep her good mood.
Her father had two horses, so she staid for a long time in the stables when there was no one there. She could talk with the horses without disturbance and they listened patient to her. She had never been allowed to keep a pet at home, so the homeless dogs and cats that she always dragged home, had been the cause of fighting and anger. Out with them! But they dodn't know that she had a pearson she could talk about things with, in the stables.
!What shouls I do about Carla?" she asked one of the horses and leaned up to him. "She doesn't want to talk with me, and it makes me so sad. She has it so bad, you know, and she doesn't let me help her."
Tiril was thirteen years old now. She had been able to keep mostly of the child in herself, but some had been lost. She was under a strong discipline and was said to be a difficult child, with all this owerflowing happiness and otimism. Mom called it naughtiness. Dad didn't say anything, he acted like Tiril didn't even exist.
She was begining to understand that she wasn't really beautiful on the outer.
People weren't ready to see her happyness and the warmth in her eyes or her pearsonality that she had...well, then she wasn't much to see.
Her mother had given up long time ago on dressing her daughter in beautiful clothes, and make her like a doll, it didn't work. The girl was, to hell with it, muscular. She was beefy and strong like a boy, the face was to width and the neck to short, the feet to short etc. She was just compleatly hopeless.
The parents didn't know that she lived two lifes. She felt sorry for everyone that had it bad, and so nobody noticed she took something good every day, or almost. These bites she shared with the ones that needed them. There was nobody that knew how she got out of the house.
The old, one eyed man with the damaged face, that was so ugly to look at that nobody wanted to know of him, stood and waited at the street corner every day and Tiril never betrayed him. There wasn't much needed to keep him alive, but sometimes she apologised for bringing nothing more than a little bread or meatbone from the pot. But he thanked her and asked God to bless her and his face shined from happiness.
The little kids in the neighbourhood, that had fathers that drank all the money away and beat their women and kids, they owed Tiril a big thank. Sometimes it was just an old toy that she brought them, nothing to fill empty stomach, but they shined nothing less of happiness. There were so many homeless in Bjorgvin.
When old Madam Gronske lied for her death, and the priest wanted to go for a breakfast with the mayor more, then it was Tiril that sat by her bedside till it was over.
It wasn’t like she could give her the last rite, but soft and warm girl hand could be as good, when you were lonely, poor and the death was coming in.
The street girls at the harbour that nobody wanted to see anymore, sometimes got a good bottle of liquor from the consul. Or a good moment of chat in some stairs.
Tiril probably understood a little of the things they talked about, these where all sorts of confidential cries about some guy that beat them up, or had passed on to her some disease, or the worst thing, had betrayed her of money. And dreams that never came true. About the blind streets that went to richness and happiness, about the prince that never came on his white horse, about the children that never got born…
There where many wild dogs on the streets. Tiril always had a good word for them all or something good to share among them, so nobody would be left alone.
One day she saw something terrible. The dogs where following a little pup. He was nearly grown up, but he was stumbling. Tiril knew that the dogs used to solve these things in one way, but she didn’t want to wait for that, so she ran and stood between the dogs and the puppy, that had been cornered.
This was really stupid, but that didn’t cross her mind. The dogs knew her!
And they surely did. Some growled a little bit, but ran away, when she hissed at them.
No normal person could have done that. But Tiril had a special connection with animals. That’s why they respected her.
Of course she took the dog home with her. But this time she didn’t take him inside, she had learned her lesson. She put him in the stables and started to clean him, he looked at her scared but thankful while she cleaned him careful. The stable boy came and looked at her for a while, but then he said: “This is nothing to celebrate. Those creature! He’ll be big and grumpy and dangerous. Then he probably has flees and worms. I can kill it for you.”
“Surely not.” Tiril said determined. “He is my friend and he´s going to be called Nero, because Nero means black. And he does not have worms! And that´s it!”
But she was afraid of keeping the puppy in the stables after that. In stead she found a place in the tree garden, be hind all the bushes and there she kept the little thing.
The little thing wan’t really a good name. Nero seemed like he was going to be really big, and it showed if looked was at his feet. At some part he seemed like he was frome a good family, probably two good families. The other parent had probably been from a good family, and Nero was a payoff from forbidden love. His look couldn’t be predicted, but he was hairy and his head was big. He had big brown eyes that followed Tiril with admiration.
He couldn’t be hidden for a long time. And he grew really fast. One day madam Dahl came really angry inside.
“What disgusting street dog is it that’s lying in our garden? Shot him Carl!”
Tiril ran like a thunder and sent Nero to the street. “It isn’t safe for you.” she whispered. “You have to look for a shelter with your enemies.”
She was with him all day, till she was sure he was big and strong enough to be respected by the other dogs. Nero was going to follow her back, so it took a really long time to say goodbye. Tiril comforted him with tears in her eyes and promised to come visit hime every time she could. She made him a home in the shed down at the harbour, those that aren’t used after the burn, put his bowls there and filled them with food and water. Then she went away and that where heavy footsteps.
Carla was starting to be the shadow of her self and it wasn’t just Tiril that was hidden from the guest now. “No one will belive that I have such a big kids” madam Dahl said apologetic.
The father didn’t even look at his older daughter, and he had never looked at the younger one.
Tiril tried to bring her sister to life, without any result. She knew they where good friends, but what was in Carla’s heart, she just couldn’t tell her little sister.
Tiril that had always looked at the life like on big sunshine day, didn’t understand up or down anymore.
One night she woke up by that someone was inside her room. Big creature was blocking the window. It startled her.
“Shsss, now” Her father whispered, he was holding something in his hands, but she didn’t see it well. “I was just going to see if you where asleep, you where so uneasy.”
“Thanks, dad” she said moved. “I’m feeling fine.” The eyes where getting used to the dark now and she felt like her father was a little tense. He stood and looked at her for a little while, then he whispered: “No!” and walked determined out of the room. The thing he was holding was dragging on the floor.
Tiril shook her head not understanding little uneasy by her fathers behaviour, that had never been worried by her sleep. She dind’t remember him ever coming in her room, not even saying goodnight when she was little.
The mood was filled with strain so she tried to hold on to the last straw. She remembered what her mother had said so long ago: “They are not my daughters. Does the little younger one even look like me, for example?”
It was right that she had nothing in common with Carla and their mother. She dind’t even look like her father. His face was getting like fish in look, she thought. A fish with moustache and goatee, that was getting in more and more trouble getting the belt over his belly. He got more conscious about his respect, that was constantly getting smaller.
He was just fat and grumpy.
No, Tiril didn’t look like any of them.
That thought made her feel better. She was getting used to talking about those things with Nero. “Who are my parent’s Nero?”
The dog listened serious to her and looked deep in heer eyes, then she started to giggle.
“They must have been little and muscular, like me.” She laughed. “And they must have had fun. I think they had been in a sirkus, don’t you think so? They are always so cheerful and know how to do so much, for example taking somersault and turn a cartwheel!"
She took a somersault in the grass where they sat. Nero thaught that was a really fun game and they fought for a litle bit.
Then she sat up. "But I still want to be Carla's sister, that I can tell you. What should I do about her, Nero? How can I get her to smile again?"
Nero couldn't answer that.
Young girls from good families shouldn't naturally run around like that alone. Tiril had secret passegesway through backyards, yards and scary neighbourhoods, when everyone thaught she was in her room. They where always to selfabsorbed.
Carla naturally knew the truth, and she didn't like it, to start with, but she never said anything. She was used to Tiril taking care of herself.
One day a stranger came for a visit. Tiril saw him from the upper floor and looked curious at him.
Her father greated him in the hall.
"What do you want here?" he said scared. "You can't com here!"
The man had a elegant collar and a wig, Tiril saw. There was a threat in his voice.
"When mister Dahl doesn't come to me, then I have to do it myself."
"I already promised to pay. Very soon."
"You have said that for a long time."
"But I have money. I just have to get them."
"You mean the girls money? But you can't get them. Not while she's..."
"Shss" Mister Dahl said uneasy and looked around. Tiril hid behind the pillar and then hurried in her room. Carla has money? she thought. That their dad was going to take? That was wrong! If she could only do something. But she had nothing, she wasn't even related to them, that was what she knew best. She got to live there, and she was just a child of some entertainers. They were so kind to her! She had to help them somehow!
That way Tiril had come to accept how unlike she was everyone in the family and she was so cincinsing that she belived herself. But it was Carla that she wanted to help. And she didn't get any connection with her.
Not until Tiril was fourteen and Carla was sixteen years old. Then their mother suddenly got the idea of marrying Carla to a rich young man in Bjorgvin. Yhe house got a live again, and there where many invitasions and parties, the man of the house to much frustration. Tiril had never seen her father so frustrated. It didn't seem like it was the invitations that made him frustrated, it was something else. Something untouchable, she felt, but she couldn't get the right words.
One day Carla sat in the upper floor crying. Tiril came up to her so now she couldn't get away.
"Dear Carla" Tiril begged softly and sat beside her. "We where good friends when we where little, can't you tell me what's wrong?"
Carla dug her face even deaper in her hankie and cried non stop.
"Is it because mom want's to marrie you off?" Tiril asked carefully. "Don't you want to?"
"Oh, yes, I want it more than anything else. He's so great." sobbed Carla and let her sister put her arm around her.
"But then what?" Tiril asked puzzled.
Carla had hiccup. "I want to die! I just want to die, get away from here....from all this dirt! I'm so dirty, I don't want to live!"
"But you can't be serious" Tiril said surprised and hugged her. "You're always cleaning yourself. You're so beautiful!"
"Beautiful" Carla snorted. "What's that for? THats´the funnyest thing I have ever heard!"
Carla looked up and looked at her, with tears in her eyes. "If I just could...."
"Talk with me?" Tiril said understanding. "But why can't you? In reality....In reality we just have each other, you understand."
She nodded her head. "Yes" she said in a low voice. "You're so nice and good, Tiril. Nobody sees it! Don't let anyone do anything bad to you, little untended sister of mine!"
Then she got away from the hug and ran in her room. Tiril sat still and didn't know what to do.
One day she heard her parents fighting. She sat in the room that came out from theirs, so she couldn't help but to listen.
"You're disgusting" Her father said with disgust in his voice. "Look at yourself in the mirror, you're drunk like usual. It's started to show, how often you drink and much"
"Look who's talking" Her mother answered pushy. "You don't drink anything less. Is it meybe because you're useless in bed? How long has it been since you came in my room? Can you answer that?"
The fathers voice suddenly got icy and respectable. "Do you really think I want to have anything to do with you?"
"You once adored me"
"Yes, while you where clean and innocent. I chose you because you got e strich discipline..."
"Damnit I was just fifteen..."
"You where mine" He continued calmly. "I don't want to share my wife with just any man. I want cleanness, and keep my properties, nothing more!"
"Like little girls and babysitters, for example?"
"Don't be so hollow! You're digusting! Slut!"
The mother laught sudden laugh "Can I help it that everyone loves me?"
"Nobody does anymore."
"What do you know about that?"
Tiril heard thump and then her mother screamed. Then her father walked hard steps out of the room, and her mother followed with bad words.
Finally Tiril could go out. But out in the hallway two maids stood and talked together. They didn't see Tiril.
"What did she mean with maids and little girls?" The younger one asked and had been for a short time there.
"Oh, it's was so hard to get people here once. If he wouldn't get what he wanted with the girls, then they would be fired. And if he got his, then it was the miss that fired them,"
"Is it any better now?"
"Yes, it seems that he already got...jesus, shut up now" she mumbled and drew back when she saw Tiril.
The air at home constanly got worse. Tiril had never seen her father in as bad mood as now. Now she finally saw how old he had gotten. He was heavy in mood and walk, reckless and unclean, reeked of strong perfume that he put on once in a while. Her mother didn't hesitate with doing something he didn't like and now they had stopped trying to hide their hate that was between them.
Carla walked around trembling, pale and had compleatly lost her lifepower.
Sometimes it looked like she wanted to tell something to her sister and Tiril tried to encourage her to do so, but Carla was to afraid. She ran in her room, gray and sad, and Tiril sighted sad. She felt so hopeless.
She went in town as often as she could. She looked after Nero, gave him something to eat and drink everyday and got scared with how fast her grew. Now he was already grown up.
She always had something extra to give the other dogs, that now had started to be around Nero and his "home". It was abvious that he was a good leader, and with that his future was secured.
They always took a little walk together, she and Nero, out in the woods behind the city. She loved those moments; then she could be herself, the real, happy and optimism Tiril. Then she could laugh and play and sqeesed her big dog and enjoyed life like she wanted. Then she could laugh in the face of everyone she met that then found some little happy feeling inside of themself without knowing that it was her shining happyness that made their day good.
One day they had walked longer than usual and played throwing sticks and turn cartwheels, so she was late. When she came homethe family sat at the dining table.The only word to describe the the mood was heavy.
"Sorry, mom and dad" She sad and let herself fall in her chair. But nobody semed to notice her, everyone had enough with theirs.
"For the hundred time, I don't think this boy is good enough for Carla." Their father said grumpy.
He had dressed up and seemed more like himself now than for a long time. "This marriage will not happen."
Carla sat like she had been domed to death, against Tiril. She had never looked more petrifide, as lifeless. There wasn't a glimp of life in her eyes. It was like she was hiding her feelings.
"Why not?" Her mother asked annoyed over this. "He's from a good family, his dad is rich and the boys future is shining.
"He's just not good enough....."
"Because he drank to much on his exam day two years ago? With all the other students? That's just normal, beside I don't think it goes you well..."
He stood quickly up, and the chair fell down.
"There will be no wedding! She just to young to get married."
"Ha! Do you hear that one! He wasn't thinking about that when heself married one fifteen years old! Me!"
"That's a different matter" said mister Dahl determined. He went out of the room and they sat still and found the sweat come out on their forehead.
Later that day there mother was going to fit a new dress for Tiril, that wasn't really patient for things like that. Her father sat in the chair and was looking at some documents.
"Stay still" miss Dahl hissed. "No you can't fit the dress anymore. You're starting to mature, girl!"
Her father looked up and wrinkleded his eyebrows. "That's not how you talk with children" he said serious.
"Yes, but just see for yourself! Tiril, skip over to miss Pedersen and ask her to come here tomorrow, so she can look at your dress, and see if she can make it fit. It's such a shame, it's such a cute pattern..."
Tiril was really happy getting out of the room. When she walked past her father she felt a searching look on her body. She felt kinda sick.
She told the seamstress, and hurried back home. It was getting dark and she didn't like the dark. It held so many creatures from other worlds, she felt.
But the spirits where probaly harmless, the real ones to on the streets in Bjorgvin.
Suddenly someone took in her hand and two mens stood beside her. They grined in her face and were rude.
It took her a little while understanding what they wanted. But then she got angry.
She tried to get away from them, but when that didn't work she kicked them in the crotch so they cursed loudly. But they didn't let her go.
They where in a tight alley by the harbor and all around there where windowless warehouses. There was no one there, exept for a sleepink drunk.
"Let go of me you pigs!" Tiril hissed at them. She was strong and she managed to hurt them a little. Her resestance seemed to entertain them, and they held her faster.
They never understood where the big black dog came from. But in the same moment a scary sound sounded everywhere and growl around the alley. There wasn't just one dog that attaced them. Under the lead of the big one where at least ten dogs to Tiril's rescue. The men ran away screaming with the dogs after them.
It was just Nero left. Tiril sighted relived and took around his head. "Thank you my friend" she wispered frightened. "And give your regards to your friends!"
The dog followed her to the yard. That he wasn't used to do. It was abvious that he was proud of his work.
Her hands where still shaking when she came in the hall. It seemed as no one had time for her there. Miss Dahl came shining from joy to Carla that stood in the stairs on her way up.
"Oh, Carla, Carla" she said happy. "Your dear father gave his acceptance. What did I say? That you would get to marrie that boy, I would make it happen. Your father gave his condon."
She hugged her older daughter. Carla looked at Tiril and from hear eyes shined fear and doubtfulness. She got herself loose and ran up the stairs.
Their mother hadn't seen her face.
"O, how happy she must be" she said lyrical. "Did you see it Tiril?"
Tiril woke up in the middle of the night. She felt like she had heard a scream and then crash. But everything was quiet.
The next morning the driver found little Carla lying on the stone layed street. She had jumped out her window.
Now everyones eyes looked at Tiril...
It wasn't long after that, that the evil forces from the ancient stories in iceland started to streach their arms to her, and the experience that was hidden in the three books up on Iceland started to show up.
But to understand the power of black magic over the humans we have to go back to the middle of the 17th century, back to the battle between reverend Jon with the sorcerers. And the storie that will be told is realated to the story of Tiril in Bjorgvin.
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