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The Völva blinked, then opened her eyes wide. They filled with a milky white film. Her face became flat, showing no emotions when she stared out into space. Then she drew in a deep breath and covered her mouth with her hand.
“What did you see?” The dwarf next to her urged.
“If the wrong people find out about this…” she moved her body uneasily, “the royal family in Midgard will be in grave danger.”
“What did you see? Tell me.” The dwarf demanded.
“I saw the ruler of Muspelheim die, not from natural causes, they killed him.” She watched the dwarf.
“Who!?” His yellow eyes searched her face.
“A prince of Midgard,” she whispered.
The dwarf grimaced, “They are children.”
“But if he… finds out, they will never become men,” she stated.
“I will tell no one, I swear.” The dwarf assured her, even though he knew. He could never keep a secret. In fact, he had already started thinking of whom he could tell. Someone who would be impressed and pay him a lot of gold for his trouble.
“I am late, so I need to go, but I swear… I won’t tell anyone…”