"It's been a long time, Avalon."

Avalon closed her eyes, sighing heavily. Her heart beat frantically. Without turning toward the door she said curtly, "Hi."

A moment of silence followed, and Neymar was wise enough to not break it – the rising tension was palpable, after all. Instead, his eyes switched from Avalon to the newcomer – her father! – and back again. What was he doing here?

"I was on a business trip here in Barcelona," the older man answered her silent question when she refused to acknowledge his presence in any other way than that rather short greeting. Footsteps echoed as the tall silhouette of the man who'd raised her stepped into the room, made his way to the bench that Avalon had lied on only moments before. "Imagine my surprise when, after so many years, I suddenly feel the presence of my daughter again. So, naturally, I had to come and investigate. I hope you'll forgive my expedition." The wood moaned when he sat down. "Am I allowed to ask why?"

Avalon twirled the last piece of the fruit gum queues in her fingers, eyes following the movement. At his enquiry, she frowned and caught herself in time before she could turn to look at him.

After such a long time... she had pictured the moment when she would see her father again. In none of those scenarios she'd been able to look him in the eye. Not after what had happened. Still, he was here. That... had to count for something, right?

"Uh..." Neymar finally said, making her realise she'd taken a longer time than she'd thought to ponder her father's presence here. The Brazilian was shuffling to his feet, nervously rubbing his palms on the fabric of his pants. "I guess I will leave you two al–"

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," her father interrupted him. From the corner of her eye, she could see him get up and extend a hand toward the football player. There was warmth in his voice, right along with honest remorse for the social mishap. Right, normally he'd never forego introductions like this. Odd. Was he as thrown by seeing her as she was by seeing him? "I didn't introduce myself. My name is Marcel. I'm Avalon's father. And judging by what the Viking man managing this establishment told me about the situation here, it's safe to say that I'm also her coven leader without sounding ridiculous. Please, you don't have to leave on my account. Since I'm here it's my honour and my duty to help free your heart. In any way I can be of aid to my daughter."

Free your heart. Avalon winced. Like it was some noble cause, not a life-or-death situation. But that was her father. Always seeing the noble cause. Even in her most dire failing in the past.

Neymar blinked owlishly, his mouth hanging open, clearly lost for words. He was overwhelmed, and Avalon rolled her eyes; her father tended to do that to people. Overwhelm them with his presence. He looked at her for help of what to do, and – not really knowing herself – she nodded softly. Her father had just offered his help. Not what she'd expected in a hundred years! But Neymar needed – deserved – to know anything and everything that would lead to his and his heart's freedom. So, bracing herself for the coming conversation, she took a deep breath, at last turning around to face her father.

He hadn't changed. At all. His hair was still short and thick and black, his beard was still full and neatly trimmed, his eyes – she couldn't help but be drawn to the assurance she remembered resting inside them – they still held that warmth and gentleness one wouldn't expect from a man of his almost giant stature. Not a feature he'd inherited to her, small dwarf that she was. There also was that soft smile that seemed to be fixed onto his face and that she'd rarely ever seen him without.

It didn't make sense, she concluded. Why wasn't he mad? Angry? Pissed at her?

"Why what?" she finally asked.

Marcel tilted his head, eyes glinting, and Avalon could see the wheels turning in his head even as he answered. "Why did you get rid of the concealment spell? Last I remember, you didn't want to have to do anything with us. Didn't want to be found."

Avalon scoffed, feeling the pang he'd intended her to feel with that statement nevertheless; not so gentle and warm after all. "It wasn't a conscious decision. It was useless since Nina found out about me anyway. So I took it off. It had nothing to do with you."

"That's... unusual," he said as he tapped an index finger on his chin in thought. "Not even your blood kin, your own coven, could penetrate and see through that spell."

She shrugged, suddenly feeling like a young student again, being lectured by the coven's more experienced members on the benefits and dangers of magic. "Beats me. That's the least of my problems right now. One I'll solve after I break her love spell and send the bitch back to whatever hellhole she crawled out of."

Neymar grunted involuntarily at her choice of words and even her father cracked a smile. "Well, I'm glad you took it out in any case," he said. "It's good to see you, daughter."

That at last caught her off guard. Damn it, he'd done it again! "I... yeah," she said, clearing her throat.

"So, what do I need to know to help you? And where is the cat?"

It took less time than she'd thought to explain what had happened to Zelo, talk details about the love spell (including showing him Neymar's chest where the spell lay dormant for now), and discuss the situation with Nina and what she'd done so far to... well... pretty much accomplish nothing other than endanger Neymar's family in the end.

Wow, was she a disappointment as a witch, or what?

"Well," Marcel said when Avalon was done. He stood up, crossed an arm over his chest, supporting the elbow of the other so he could tap his chin with his finger. "I will do anything in my power. And I think I already know something which will help. Now, where's this Lars person? He was supposed to–"

"I'm here."

As if summoned, the back room door revealed a tall figure surrounded by the faint light from the shop on the other side. Lars was holding up a glass in his hand, a yellow liquid bubbling inside. "Someone ordered a Spice Up?" he asked, offering the glass to her with a kind smile. "It tastes terrible but that's what the orange juice is for. If that portion's not enough, I sent Gil to the store down the corner to get some more juice."

She shook her head and drank it in one go, shuddering at the terrible taste – that was what drinking paint must be like. Toxic, with a metallic aftertaste. But if it helped replenish her magical powers, any taste would be about all right in her books. "Thanks," she said, handing the empty glass back to him. She squinted at him, adding, "Took you an awfully long time to make that, didn't it?" Like she'd forgotten he'd disappeared on them during the episode at the other VME.

Lars had the decency to look ashamed. "Yeah, sorry about that. But – and that's a big but – you'll thank me for more than just the Spice Up when I tell you why." He frowned. "Or maybe not. It's not the best news I have."

Marcel sighed heavily. "I think I know where this is going. Do go on, please."

Oh great, that can't be good! Avalon's stomach clenched. She took a deep breath before saying, "Out with it, Lars."

Instead of doing so, the Viking glanced at Neymar. The Brazilian had been all but trying to disappear during her conversation with her father, looking through the items on the shelves, smelling the candles, shuffling through packs of Tarot cards. At Lars' entrance he'd abandoned those tasks and turned back toward the rest of them, arms crossed, unrest growing and nerves straining more and more with each passing moment. Lars tilted his head, seeing what Avalon was seeing, pulled out a pill from a small can he'd stuck in his pocket and handed it to Neymar. "Have another Chill Pill," he said. "You're going to need it. Seriously."

Neymar rolled his eyes but took the pill and swallowed it in one gulp. Lars eyed the can, pursed his lips. Then he took one of the little pills himself before offering the can to Avalon. Who shook her head, now officially freaked out as she stared at the Viking with wide eyes.

What the hell was the news that even Lars felt the need to take a Chill Pill?

"Right," Lars began. He rubbed his palms together, scratching his chin and sorting out his thoughts as he sat down on the bench next to where Marcel had taken his seat again. His eyes were on Avalon when he, at last, started to talk. "The thing is this. I found out who Nina is. Or, to be more precise, I found out what she is, actually."

"What do you mean, what?!" Neymar exclaimed. "I thought she's an evil witch."

So did I.

Lars scratched the back of his neck. "Yes, well, she's not exactly a witch."

No one said anything, waiting for Lars to go on. He didn't.

Avalon sighed, stretching. The Spice Up potion was working miracles on her body and soul. Already, she felt the fatigue lift from her shoulders, her mood swinging toward a slightly more optimistic one, despite the apocalyptic vibes Lars had going on with his talk of not-so-good news.

Not that their situation wasn't dire and serious and also kind of life-threatening. On the contrary. Nina might be trapped – a gamble Avalon hadn't known the outcome of – but she was only just that; trapped. And while the barrier keeping her within the parameters of the spell had been complicated – Zelo had needed to help her every step of the way – to make sure it even held up it had needed a blood invocation. Blood was needed when the witch wasn't strong enough to invoke such high-level stuff. And Avalon hadn't even been positive she was still able to do that anymore either. Thus, a gamble.

Which didn't bode well for Avalon in a potential one-on-one.

Not the time! Focus!

"Okay, she's not an evil witch," she said, turning everyone's attention to herself. For the moment. "So what is she?"

The Viking glanced at Marcel, but the older witch only nodded, a solemn look on his face. "So, all right. This Nina? She's not your common witch. That power play she did at the shop? The power, it was– you know yourself that wasn't normal magic, Avalon. You felt it in your gut. No denying it. Zelo would agree if he were here... So I've been doing some research of my own. Thing is, her power felt... it felt familiar in a way. Like something I've encountered before? Only it wasn't me."

"No, it was your ancestors," her father concluded. "So she really is a Völva. And your blood recognised her as such."

Avalon blinked. "A what?"

"Is that like a Viking version of a witch?" Neymar added to her eloquent question.

"No," Lars said, affronted by the prospect. "A Völva." Like that explained everything. It must have stood on their faces because he elaborated. "Priestesses in the likeness of the Goddess Freya, magical women of old, ancient– okay, so she might be a Viking version of a witch, but a way more dangerous one at that. Witches don't usually have the power of a Goddess."

Marcel nodded. "Freya, the Goddess of love and beauty but also of war and death, once gifted a selected group of women of this earth with a portion of her powers. Many used these powers for good, but many others for evil deeds. The ones that drifted too far into bloodshed and death and manipulation were later hunted and killed by the Goddess herself so that she could take away their powers once more. Actually, Avalon, our ancestors were said to have helped her find those that fled her wrath. Many tried to escape, few managed to run from her for even the smallest amount of time and none if any have succeeded in evading her searching gaze." He sighed. "Or so the saying went. I'd thought it a myth myself. Until now, that is."

Avalon could only stare at the two men nonplussed. It was Neymar who summed up her thoughts perfectly when he said, chuckling, "Hold on, hold on! Just– wait a moment, okay? You mean to tell me that the woman I've been living with these past few months is actually a volvo–"

"Völva," Lars corrected.

"Is actually a Völva which is some kind of ancient woman empowered by a Viking Goddess? Northern Mythology, right? And the family of my nanny helped said Goddess hunt down the black sheep abusing that power? So what? Nina's a descendant of those Völva?"

Marcel and Lars exchanged a wary glance. "No," Marcel answered.

"It's like this," Lars added. "Völva couldn't procreate. Call it a security measure of the Goddess. So they couldn't pass down the Goddesses powers. Anyway. It seems Freya has forgotten one of the... uh... original ones."

A moment of silence. Which was direly needed to digest what had just been said.

By the Moon Goddesses – Nina was... old. And that didn't even cut it. She was... positively ancient. Avalon scowled. A beautiful, powerful Goddess-like woman, as old as Northern Myths themselves. How come her skin looks so much younger than mine?!

And what did such a powerful being want with someone like Neymar anyhow?

"Well." Everyone turned toward Marcel who'd spoken. The older man was smiling softly as he clapped his hands. Then he got out his smartphone. "The good thing is, I have detailed information on our coven's history in the Book of Shadows. Of course the concealment spell didn't work with a Völva..." He tapped the screen a few times as he spoke. "It must be destiny that finds me in the same place as my daughter when she needs me most. Avalon, I'm proud of you. You instinctively trapped her with the only spell capable of holding such a creature."

"Creature...?" Neymar mumbled. It was obvious he had a hard time making sense of everything.

Avalon's heart clenched painfully. She ignored her father's words, his praise, the instructions that he was now giving to her and Lars and Neymar. She was having a hard time understanding all this, but at least she had a life full of knowledge about all things magical to help back her up. If it weren't for her father and Lars, she'd be way out of her league herself! But what did he have? Another Chill Pill that would stop him from completely freaking out for the moment. That was it.

Immediately she got to her feet and, without analysing what she was doing, she went over to Neymar and slung her arms around him, hugging him close. She didn't say anything, and she didn't think words were going to help him now anyway.

His arms circling her waist and pulling her even closer to him – his grip tight as if she was his lifeline in a stormy sea – was proof of that.

—-

I discovered Ed Sheeran's "Barcelona" AND Neymar visited Barcelona and some of his former teammates recently. Plus, I scrolled through my Mix & Matches story the other day – guess that's what I need to get me in the mood to write on Bewitched again! 

I know there's a lot to take in in this chapter, but that whole Völva thing's been planned pretty much from the beginning. About Nina's motifs... well, Avalon is asking herself too what such a being would want from our favourite football player... any ideas? I 'd love to hear your speculations or theories! 

I promise there will be more Neymar focus in the next part ;) 

How have you guys been?

All the best,

shamandra

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Published on: 27 August 2018