The half-wrecked mariner, his compass lost

She was returning to Yfir after a scouting trip, but it was in her mind to seek out her cousin first, and even before that to seek communion with the gods themselves. She'd climbed the volcano's face, sure footed despite the darkness that had settled over her as night had cloaked the world. She could remember this place clearly, the place she had found her sister after the mountain had shifted and trapped the elder Finnvi. Where Auora had showed her true spirit and amputated her own leg to free herself from the mountain's grasp, fighting to the last. She'd died on her own terms, much later, not trapped and slowly starving to death. Surely the gods showed her great honor in Valhalla now. Silver eyes rose to gaze quizzically at the sky. She'd thought she'd spoken to Auora in her dreams once - the healer had warned her that their cousin was not as dead as they'd believed, that she'd seen no signs of him in the afterlife. Perhaps it was a true dream; certainly Jaeger had appeared to plague her life not long after, but even Loki's tricks told the truth when it suited them. She missed her sister's council now. Sitting, staring at the sky, she found her mind wandering to the stars themselves rather than to the gods. There, the Great Wagon, the wagon's tongue pointing the way to the lode-star, leiðarstjarna, that would lead one north if one were to follow it. She could remember as a child that star, knowing that it would lead her to the nordmann that had taken her sister if she followed it long enough. Knowing that someday it would lead her to Auora - but her sister had been returned to her only to be lost once again. Whimsy struck the viking, and she wondered if leiðarstjarna would lead her to Auora now, if she were to follow it...