The God Who Carried the Egg
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OK save the OK There is a moment in the dark, deep beneath the world, where a god is handed something he does not want.
He is not what he once was. Not fully a god, not quite a man — something in between, something the Norse called Vé, one of the three brothers who breathed life and sense and beauty into the first humans. Odin got the glory. Vili got the fire. Vé got the quiet, the shadow, the things that move at the edges of sight.
He is also, as it turns out, the one the Norns chose.
In the chamber beneath the roots of everything, three ancient voices fused into one impossible harmony and gave him a single instruction: protect it. The seed. The egg. The thing pressed warm and heavy against his chest as he crawled back through the dark, scraping his knee, tearing his wrist, dragging himself toward the cold comfort of open sky.
He wanted to smash it. He didn't.
He was no longer the god who did what he wanted.
When he finally emerged, the stars were bright as fractured glass and the night smelled of dust and crickets and the ordinary world going about its business, entirely unaware that a Norse god had just been handed the future of Dragon World in an underground cave.
He almost laughed.
Instead, he asked, in the dark before he left, the only question that mattered: What if I fail?
The eldest Norn lifted her veil. Her face held the tranquil pity of someone who has watched every world end and begin again.
You will not, she said.
He almost believed her.
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It was approximately three thousand years before the prophecy came to pass.
But by then, Vé was no longer waiting.
He was ready.
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Three thousand years is a long time to carry something. Long enough to watch a desert girl named Tupi wake up on her fifth birthday and run barefoot across a hatchery floor toward an egg that was never supposed to be hers. Long enough to watch that girl become Anna — ancient, unhurried, three thousand years of memory behind her eyes.
Long enough to watch Anna’s story circle back, the way all good stories do, to a girl named Sophia. And Sophia’s father.
You know her father. His name is Vin.
And Vin’s story? That’s a whole other book.
The Vegas Viking series and the Dragon World Chronicles are available on the website. The threads connect. They always did.
Vé made sure of it.
— D.L. Beechinor