...Where everything shall Burn

Mana insufficient for rune! -48 HP

“Surt travels from the south with the Scathe of branches...”

A pain unlike any other racked John’s body. It was akin to the feeling of soreness John got after gym class, where Frank and his fellow Cro-Magnons would bully and harass John: an overwhelming tiredness along with pain across John’s body and mind. He opened his eyes, only to be greeted by inky blackness barely illuminated by red glowing strips on the walls of what seemed to be a cave. “W… where am I?”

"There shines from his sword the Sun of Gods of the Slain. Tell me, John, have you heard that passage before?”

John spun around to try and spy whoever was speaking. It sounded like the voice was coming from all around, yet in the dark John could see nothing. “Who’s there?”

“I asked you a question, John. Have you heard that passage before?”

John felt a shiver go down his spine, his mind somehow knowing annoying this mysterious voice was probably not the best idea. “N-no. I haven’t.”

“A shame. You tap into my power yet you don’t even know about me.”

‘Hold on… Tap into my power? Does that mean…’ John took a deep breath, trying to steel himself before asking, “A-are… are you… Surtr?”

The voice laughed, a deep echoing laugh that shook John to his very core. Slowly light began to flood into the area that John was in, revealing to him that he was actually standing upon a very large hand, with a matching hand slowly raising up away from him. The hands themselves looked to be made from blackened coal and obsidian, and the red strips from earlier now were shown to be lava pulsing beneath thinner pieces of rock. John was facing towards the fingers, and now could see the land beyond. It was a volcanic hellscape, a land covered in mountains that spit fire, a sky blackened with ash and smoke, fields barren of anything resembling vegetation, rather they were covered with cracked, burning earth and small shapes appearing to be monsters and demons.

“John Newman, welcome to Muspellhiem.”

John slowly turned his head, and what he saw nearly caused him to fall over. Attached to the hand was a man-shaped being made of similar material to the hand, with obsidian and blackened coal acting as the skin and bubbling lava acting like blood and areas for the joints. The man was huge, as tall as a skyscraper, with horns from his crown piercing the sky of black clouds. His face was a bit featureless, more like a skull than a normal face. He did, however, have a great beard made of flames, curling and licking at the air around the giant’s chest.

“S-Surtr?” John stammered out, his body shaking in fear from the gaze of the giant holding him.

The giant nodded, a smile breaking out onto his face. “John Newman… I must say it was quite a shock to me when I felt my power being drawn upon after all this time. After all, old One-eye made Norse Runes a dead language.”

“Wait, dead language? I thought it was just some magic…”

The giant let out a sigh, a wave of dry hot air washing over John. “How sad. The first Norse Runic Mage in two millennia and he is a fool. Well, you revived a dead magic, so perhaps fool is not the correct term.” Surtr brought John up close to his face, his molten eyes glowing so brightly they caused John to wince slightly. “You see, two millennia ago Odin had gotten angry with you mortals. Those who he gifted with the ability to cast and teach Runic Magic were either dead or had forgotten the old ways. They chose to follow other magics, spitting in the face of the All Father. Because of this, Odin decreed that no god, giant, or monster that shows any form of heed to his banner may teach Runic Magic to non-runic mages. And as the original teacher of runes, when he made that decree, we were **** to listen. Everyone from the Aesir to the Vanir to even the Jotun’s with an inkling of magic were **** to watch as our last mages died and with them the Nordic branch of Runic Magic..”

“However, you have changed things. It appears that Gaia herself seems to favor you, and has granted you a most interesting set of powers. Powers that hold infinite potential for your future. And you managed to use this potential to bring back a dead magic. What's more, you brought it back by burning bright my beacon.” Surtr gave a hearty laugh. “If you were not standing on my palm now, I would applaud what you have done for me.”

“What… exactly is it that I have done for you?” John asked hesitantly. “I mean, that rune was labeled as “Fires of Ragnarok.” I didn’t accidentally start the end of the world, did I?”

Once again, Surtr laughed. “Boy, you are just an absolute treat in terms of laughter. No, trust me. Ragnarok has yet to begin. Fenrir is still bound, Loki still writhes beneath a serpent, and Hel has not opened her gates. Trust me, if the end times were upon us, you and I would be having a very different discussion. For one I would be recommending you change your name to Lif, one of the two humans fated to survive Ragnarok. Also, I would be currently cutting down Einherjar like a farmer going to harvest.”

John let loose a sigh of relaxation, glad his “Get out of **** Free” card did not end the world. Then, a question entered his mind. “If I didn’t set off Ragnarok, what exactly did I do?”

Surtr smiled, before raising his hand to John’s eye level. Sitting in the center of it was a sphere made of polished obsidian, gleaming in the light of the Fire Jotun King’s eyes. John peered into the orb, an image slowly coming into view. He could see his body rising from the ground, runes circling him as they poured from his mouth and the runestone he used. The ice had long since melted away, as flames now curled around his body seeming to take the shape of armor. All around John pillars of fire sprang forth, burning away anything they touched before moving in a straight line away from John. The most startling thing in the image was what had become of Brett. His body was pushed away from John, in a pose suggesting he had been flung back by the **** of John using the Rune. His body was completely grey, now only made from ash. He looked like one of the bodies left after Vesuvius exploded, but before John could get a better look, a pillar of fire shot directly through Brett’s body, vaporizing his remains.

“Quite strong I would say, for not being at full power.”

“Wait, that’s NOT at full power? But it’s practically evaporating my school!”

“Oh ho, trust me, John. If you had called upon my name at full power, you could have not only evaporated your school, but most of the city. See, due to your unconsciousness from tapping into the power divine so soon after your awakening to magic, the rune itself is just going off on its own, sending out random pillars in random directions. Had you been able to handle such power, you would have gained the fiery armor of a Jotun and then used my power more like what your mortal flamethrower would have been. With the added bonus of catching anything in a ten foot radius on fire.”

“Um… How long would that have lasted?”

“Long enough.”

John’s eyes gleamed at the idea of what power he could one day tap into, while at the same time being horrified that he would turn himself into a being of pure destruction with the use of that rune.

“Well, that brings me to my final question. Why am I here?”

Surtr gave a small nod before placing John down on the ground, thankfully on a large patch of rock rather than one of the molten rivers flowing from Surtr’s throne. Surtr slowly stood up, before shrinking down quite rapidly until he was only about 10 feet tall. Still a giant by mortal standards, but much smaller than his gargantuan size earlier.

“Walk with me, John”

Slowly the two of them walked alongside each other down the rocky path."You see, John, you have just made yourself a very powerful piece in the games we deities play. Not just to the Nordic gods, mind you, but to all the gods who have walked your Earth. Our Nordic people may have gotten the magic named after their word for it, but all religions at some point have utilized the power of runes. I can recall a time when I could look down upon Midgard to watch as my mages would do battle with those who learned Set’s runes. When mages of Kuebiko, Odin, Thoth, Athena, Orunmila, Ogma, The Horned Rat, and even Papa Legba would gather for a grand conference to talk about runic magic. But now, well, the Norse have been lost from these conferences, and the other branches are weaker now than they ever have been.”

Surtr stopped, gazing over a ridge they had walked to. He smiled again and took a deep breath before looking down at John.

“I am a being of destruction, John Newman. I cannot see much of the future and have no patience for it. I seek to destroy and burn. But even I can be saddened when my powers go unused by mortals. But you can change that. It is not by coincidence that your first rune you used was Kenaz, the fire of knowledge and creativity. I may not see the future, but even I can tell you will bring about great things. You tapping into my rune allowed me to speak with you, and bring you here to talk to you. And so, as one final gift for bringing back Runic Magic, and because I don’t want my new mage to die, here is a gift.”

Surtr reached down and placed a finger on John’s forehead, causing a slight burning sensation to crawl across John’s scalp but nothing too painful to deal with.

“Kenaz.”

In that instant, knowledge flowed into John’s mind. He saw himself casting this familiar rune, but unlike with his torch form, it was not nearly as big at only about the size of John’s palm. John somehow knew that this rune was intended not as a light of discovery, but rather as a fire of destruction and power. The John in his mind’s eye crushed the rune in his hand, and his hand was caught on fire. He could see himself catching small balls alight and throwing them at his enemies. Then, he was throwing just pure balls of fire. Then, he was shooting streams of fire from his hand in a steady stream. The vision ended as Surtr removed his finger, and behind Surtr John could see a popup window had appeared.

“There you go, John. A new rune, for my new Runic Mage. I highly prefer those who know my runes not to die so quickly because they cannot defend themselves, so please, use this spell to burn those who try to kill you until you become strong enough to summon my direct power again.”

John was about to say thank you, when suddenly his body felt very, very heavy. Like he had just run for hours upon end and had not had a drink for a long time.

“Ah, it seems your spell, and our time, is up. Good luck, John Newman. Steel yourself for the journey ahead. We will speak again when you have more power.”

With that, John’s vision began to fade back to black for a brief moment. Then his vision returned, slowly, showing his school in flames. That sight then faded as he started to fall ****. The last sight he saw was a very surprised looking Mrs. Wentworth quickly standing up as John appeared from nowhere to collapse on her desk.