Audumbla’s Divine Milk

A thick mist shrouded the sky as the young man traversed the desolate wilderness alone.

“Hey—is anyone there?” Tolke bellowed, cupping his hands like a megaphone towards his surroundings, yet his voice, like a pebble cast into the vast Mediterranean, failed to stir even the faintest ripple.

Having received no response, Tolke could only continue his aimless trek through the wilderness.

A sense of loneliness and boredom began to settle upon him, prompting him to lift a hand and idly stir the white mist that enveloped his form.

The mist was thick, its pristine white hue, reminiscent of human skin, captivated his gaze.

So dense was this heavy fog that it had almost solidified, leaving a pleasant, caressing sensation as it brushed against Tolke’s cheek.

“Sniff, sniff~” Tolke closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and his nose twitched.

“It smells wonderful, almost like Noren’s scent…”

Perhaps Tolke’s breath, brushing against the ethereal body of the mist, caused Them to feel affronted.

With a haughty snort, They swept away all the white mist and vanished into the distance.

Once the heavy white mist that had covered his face—er, ahem!—dissipated, Tolke felt an immediate lightness throughout his entire being.

His back no longer ached, his waist felt supple, and the oppressive weight had lifted from his body.

Before he could fully revel in this newfound ease, a colossal cow, reaching from earth to sky, emerged from the horizon.

It advanced towards Tolke with deliberate, immense strides, its hooves a dull, dark sheen.

With each monumental step, the earth trembled, dislodging boulders, and the very firmament shook, sending birds plummeting from the sky.

“To—lke—!” the cow bellowed, its voice thundering like a storm.

“Who are you!” Tolke exclaimed, having never before witnessed a cow of such monstrous proportions.

Its limbs were a quarter the thickness of the World Tree, and its body so vast that Jörmungandr itself could not swallow it whole in a single gulp.

Saliva, cascading from its mouth, formed a waterfall that instantly pooled into a small lake upon the ground.

“You—may—call—me—,” the cow’s body began to shrink.

By the time it took its final step before Tolke, it had diminished to the size of a normal dairy cow.

“Audumbla.”

“Audumbla?”

“Yes,” the cow affirmed with a nod.

Tolke, convinced that this cow before him was undoubtedly a manifestation of a deity, bowed respectfully.

He then inquired, “May I ask what your divine will is?”

“I’ve been feeling a bit engorged lately; could you help me milk myself?” the cow uttered, its words astonishing.

“Ah? Isn’t that… improper? Would it not be… somewhat sacrilegious?” Tolke stammered, utterly unprepared for such a request from a cow.

Never in his life had he encountered such an proposition!

Milking? And a cow proposing it herself, no less?!

“Sacrilege? Why sacrilege?” The cow shook its neck, its ears flapping.

“I am a cow, and you are human.

Is it not natural for humans to milk cows?”

“Ah, well…” Tolke found himself utterly speechless, a lump caught in his throat.

Tongue-tied and awkward, he was momentarily at a loss for a rebuttal.

Reluctantly, he conceded, “Very well then…”

Without warning, a dark, gaping void appeared in the sky, from which an iron bucket plummeted, striking the golden-haired youth squarely on the forehead with a resounding clang.

Looking up, he saw through the dark wormhole a dozen winged-helmet beauties, delicately covering their mouths as they giggled.

The most beautiful and graceful among the twelve, noticing the golden-haired youth’s gaze, swiftly drew a curtain to obscure the opening on their side of the dark void.

Consequently, the void on Tolke’s side vanished as well.

“Hurry now, once you’re done milking, I must deliver this milk to the Aesir gods in Asgard.

If there’s any left over, cup it in your hands and carry it to the dwelling of the Vanir gods.”

The cow urged him on, for every drop of its milk was exceedingly precious, and due to its current engorgement, much of it was already spilling onto the earth.

“Oh, right, I’m coming!” Tolke said, grabbing the iron bucket and crouching beneath the cow’s abdomen.

He paused, “Uh… I’m not sure which one to milk first?”

The anatomy of humans and cows differed, and while he would have readily milked one of Noren’s dairy cows, this particular cow was a divine being, making him feel somewhat constrained.

“Any one will do, just hurry and milk!”

“Oh, alright!” Tolke responded, selecting the most engorged of the four udders to begin with.

The forceful streams of milk struck the iron bucket’s walls with a sharp, hissing “sizzle.”

Ultimately, after expending a Herculean effort, Tolke finally completed the task.

He was drenched in sweat, his arms aching and numb, confirming that this was indeed no easy chore.

“Thank you, moo~ brave warrior~ May you be chosen by the Valkyries~ moo-moo♪” The cow hummed a little tune, carrying the iron bucket in its mouth as it lumbered away.

As it receded into the distance, its body slowly began to expand once more, until it attained the size of a colossal mountain.

Feeling the tremor of the ground beneath him, Tolke collapsed helplessly, his limbs splayed out like a great ‘X’ as his chest heaved with ragged breaths.

Lying on the ground, Tolke gazed up at the sky, which seemed neither black nor white, neither bright nor dim.

He found that even as his eyes fixed upon it, he would invariably forget its precise color the very next second.

The longer he stared, the dizzier his head became.

“It smells wonderful,” he murmured, lifting his hand before him.

A few remnants of milk still clung to his palm, and a peculiar, enchanting aroma wafted from his fingertips.

He extended his tongue to lap up a single drop of milk nestled between his fingers.

A resonant hum—

The moment that solitary drop of milk touched his tongue, his ears roared with tinnitus, and his mind exploded with a sudden intensity.

He felt his body no longer belonged to him; his soul seemed to detach from its mortal coil, freed from the constraints of gravity, ascending directly towards the heavens…

………

……

…

“Look, the greedy fellow is awake!” a feminine voice, clear as a spring’s chime, rang in his ears.

Tolke slowly regained consciousness, realizing he was lying on cold, hard flagstones.

Opening his eyes, he saw a face pressed unnervingly close to his own.

The face showed no sign of breath, its eyes unblinking, its pupils unmoving, allowing him to discern his own terrified expression reflected in its emerald gem-like gaze.

“Ah!” Tolke cried out.

“Scaredy-cat~ Hehe!” The owner of the face straightened up, her hands clasped behind her back, a mischievous smile gracing her lips.

She was a young, golden-haired girl, wearing a winged helmet and possessing a youthful, almost childlike appearance.

“Sister, look at him, just look at him! What a scaredy-cat, easily startled, easily startled!” The young girl bounced over to a tall, golden-haired woman, clinging to her arm and whining playfully.

“Oh, you little imp,” the woman said, raising a hand to lightly flick the girl’s upturned nose, then stroking her head.

“It’s time for serious business.”

“Serious business, serious business! You’ll get what’s coming to you later, you easily startled scaredy-cat! Blech~” The golden-haired girl pulled down her lower eyelid with a finger, sticking out her tongue and making a face at Tolke.

Then she shouted to her surroundings, “Sisters! It’s time to punish him!”

Sisters…?

Upon hearing the girl’s words, Tolke glanced around, only then noticing that besides the tall and short golden-haired women, ten other females stood within the grand hall.

Though their figures varied, they were uniformly dressed, each wearing a helmet adorned with double winged eye-guards.

Beyond these twelve women, Tolke also realized he was situated within a peculiar grand hall.

The hall’s walls were crafted from spears, chainmail lay scattered across the benches within, and shields hung suspended from the ceiling.

Ornate, jewel-encrusted war swords were visible everywhere.

These weapons and armor radiated a golden brilliance, making the entire hall resplendent and opulent, a wondrous fusion of luxury and grim solemnity.

It seemed capable of captivating any Norseman who ventured into its presence.

Tolke was no exception.

‘Am I… have I arrived at Valhalla, the Hall of the Slain?’