[Troll legend] The Legend of Ilma-ri

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In a time before the Empires, before troll tamed the land and shaped it to his purpose, in a time before the Travelers fought back the encroaching darkness, was born a spirit of great power.

At its birth, the World was barren and inhospitable. No breathing creature thread the wastes. The spirits were in great turmoil, for they had been fighting amongs themselves for time unmeasurable. During this time, the Others came. The Dark Lords ensnared the lesser elemental lords with promises of power, and set them against their former masters. The Great Lords were fickle and served no purpose but their own, yet even they knew the constant wars would only bring their demise. Earth called together a council, and a treaty was formed.

To seal their alliance, they decided to create a champion, a great warrior created of their conjoined powers. Earth provided the shell. Fire imbued the limbs with life and rage. Air gave the great warrior breath. Water fused together the body and mind. As the great construct rose, the Great Lords cheered.

Before sending their creation against the Dark Lords, they spoke to their creation each in turn. Fire offered him great wealth if he would help him defeat Air. Water would give it magic beyond that of any other being, if only he would quench out the Fire. Air would let him see the whole world if he would get rid of Water.

Last came Earth. She spoke gently, and told the thing it was the child of her body, shaped out of her own clay. She told it to keep the balance and not let the other Great Lords sway its judgement. The thing understood. Thus, the thing became a being.

***

The elemental warrior fought battle after battle for the Great Lords, never choosing to favour one over the other. It fought the darkness, but would never choose to harm the followers of its creators. This did not escape the notice of the Great Lords. Fire, Water and Air each in turn raged at the creature, yet to no avail.

Then, during a great confrontation, Fire decided he had been swindled. He withdrew his armies and attacked those of Air, destroying many of their generals. He screamed at the colossal warrior to help him, but the being ignored him. Enraged, Fire called back his powers and stripped the great being of fire.

Without the rage, the warrior stopped. A shadowy tentacle enveloped him and tried to pull him under the ground. Water saw this, and quickly came to his aid. As the warrior stood up, Water urged him to take his revenge on the treacherous Fire. Remembering the words of its mother, the great being shook its head. Water too grew furious, and took back his powers. The being sagged and could barely move.

Air thought he would finally get the chance to claim the warrior for himself. He rushed the battlefield and pushed back the waterlords. It offered the whole world to the majestic creation if it would only fight for him. The being barely managed to lift its head. In its eyes, Air could detect the glimmer of defiance. It too took back the power, and the great warrior stopped breathing.

Earth, the Mother, found the body of her son where he fell. She cried and cried, but the once majestic beaing would not come alive. Grieving, she buried her child in her realm, deep underground.

***

The Great Smith found the being where it had been buried. He saw a faint glimmer of life still inside the broken husk, and decided it would make a great ally. He gave it breath, and forged its body anew, and sent it to help in reforming the world.

Every task the being did with precision and skill, but there was a sadness, some deep grief that it would not share with its new master. It was this grief that alienated them and made the Great Smith leave the being behind when the Travelers left.

Then, the shadow returned.

The Dark Lords broke out the Great Lords again, and for a while the world tethered on the brink of doom. The Travelers returned, and banished the darkness, but at the cost of nigh all they had achieved. The Great Smith found the being broken once again, and this time he could not reforge its body. Instead, he chose to forge its soul, so it could never again be destroyed. As this was done, and the ghostly warrior arose, the Great Smith smiled. He imbued the new creation with the powers of all four elements and set it on a task to create the wall of sky for the world.

The Skyforger was born.

***

The Skyforger went to sleep after the Travelers left. He slept through the great turmoils that afflicted the world, through the birth of the first trolls, through the creation of their first cities.

As he finally awoke from his aeon-long slumber, he was intrigued to see the first troll nation arise. He observed the young Empire with great interest, and would fly through their streets with glee, invisible to everyone.

One day he noticed the guards bore new weapons, not made of stone or wood or bone, but of metal. He searched and searched until he found the source of this new invention. The first troll smith.

He almost wept with joy. His favoured people was following in his footsteps, learning to forge and smelt, to beat metal into intricate shapes. As the smith paused to wipe his brow, the spirit reached out and touched his forehead.

A thunderclap shook the city, and the smithy collapsed. A crowd gathered, convinced that the smith was dead. But among the wailing of women and the cries of men, the burly troll pushed himself from beneath the rubble. In his eyes burned a fire they had never seen before.

Ilma-ri had joined with the Skyforger. The greatest smith trolls had ever known arose.

***

A figure moves through the storm. He is large and powerful, yet he still moves with an ease belying his burly stature. He steps into a cave.

He lights a fire. The flames illuminate his blackened skin. Even he is not certain whether it comes from the soot, or if it is perhaps a gift from the Loa.

He pushes back his fiery-red hair and sits down to listen. He is expecting someone.

He is Ilma-ri, the Eternal Smith. He shares the memories of a hundred dead troll smiths, as well as those of a greater being, one born when the world was young.

He smiles as he hears someone breathing heavily near the cave entrance.

The time has come again.

(Loosely based on the Finnish myth of the Skyforger, Ilmarinen.)