The myths were not unknown to her—indeed, Siv had found early on that her parents had chosen her name so that it might earn her recognition. She wondered, less often as an adult, if there had been some reasoning behind her being given the name. Did they think she had been touched by a god? Two, in fact, when Loki cut away her golden light and turned it the color of night? She inclined her head slightly at the cautious words and smiled to show she knew it.
“Helsi,” she gave freely, unafraid of her surname. It had been stolen, of course, but she found the name far more fitting than the one she had been born with. Her bloodline belonged to it, after all, so why not make it her own? There were no ghosts following her from the Hearg, and Reykr’s silence was taken as submission. She would not need fear this odd looking woman. “I am a foreigner,” Siv further went on, though another secretive smile cut across her face. “Though I have made my home south of here. That is how I came to know of this place,” she explained, and shrugged lightly. “Even strangers carry familiar tidings, yes? The old ways draw us together.”
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