Bothvar Beorcolsson
A man with bright, shining white hair and a golden patch upon his eye stands holding a spear of pure light as ravens sit upon his shoulders, staring out as we stand upon the mountain top. He watches those toiling and working, fighting in wars, farming, and much more. They are but ants beneath us. I still don’t understand why we protect them. “Why do we let them do as they please when they should all be serving us? Bowing at our feet. We protect them yet most turn their eyes away from us in search of others.”
He turns his single gaze upon me, yet it has the full weight of the mountain itself upon it. “And why do you think you deserve their servitude? Are you worthy of it?”
“I am. I am their superior in every way. No one can match my might. With my hammer, I am the strongest there is. Even the giants tremble beneath me. The serpent that sleeps beneath the waters knows not to challenge me. Why should I not rule over them?” I puff out my chest with pride.
“Might does not always make right. Just because you are one of the strongest, doesn’t mean you are worthy of it or of their servitude. Nor should they serve. Why should they not have the freedom to live their own lives and make their own choices? Shouldn’t all living beings have that right?”
“Look at what it has brought them? They fight and make war over and over again. They kill each other over land and spoil rather than help each other. No one’s willing to aid their neighbor. They’d rather steal the boots off a starving man’s feet than feed him.”
“Not all of them. You just see one and generalize the rest. If you look closer, there are plenty who will give the tunic off their back to another who is without. Some even give the last of the food they have to feed those who are without. Is that not noble and honorable?” my father says.
“I suppose. But would they not prosper even more if they were under our rule instead of meandering as they please?” I ask.
“Perhaps… But what makes you think you know what is best for them? What would you do if you ruled over them? Would you subjugate them? Force them to do unyielding labor? Build your monuments? Wage war with the other gods?” His eyebrow raises.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. But the other gods would wage war. Surely, I would meet them with my own army of followers. We should prepare for Ragnarok. These mortals need to be ready,” I say.
“Ragnarok will come regardless of whether we are ready for it. Fate waits on no one, and destiny can’t be changed by even the strongest of us. I hope one day, my son, you will realize that we are not that different from them. Our biggest difference is relative.”
I wake up in a sweat. What was I dreaming about? I swear it was Thunar and Olaf. The gods. Why would I see such a dream? Is it a sign? I shake my head. I should not dwell on such things. I’m but a mere mortal of no importance. I try to forget the dream and get on with the day.
Prey is getting scarce as winter is in full swing. I’ve gotten much stronger and yet I still cannot lift the hammer. But I keep snapping bow strings. The glow ore has proven to be tricky to smelt and mold. It takes a hot fire to melt. Fortunately, the coal I have is different and burns hotter than other coal, but even that barely does the trick. Then it melts my quenching bucket anyway. I haven’t even managed to get it into the molds yet, but I suppose that will be a challenge if my buckets keep melting. Luckily, I’ve made a new one out of the glowing ore. A shotty one at that, but it works far better than the one I traded Aldam for. I find that if I temper it and beat on it, it becomes more resistant to heat. Another thing that strikes me as odd is that the glow fades when heated. It is now just a highly dark emerald color. Much like the altar the hammer sits upon.
Once I made the bucket, I tried my luck with a hammer. The first attempt destroyed my molding but gave me a shoddy hammer. It’s a crooked handle with a very rugged head, but it suffices. I created new molds with the metal. It was tricky trying to figure out how to mold the liquid metal into an object I desire. I ended up molding it around the hammer, and I was able to pull the hammer and bend the metal to make a smoother mold, but that only made the head. The handle was more difficult. It took me several attempts to create a straight enough handle mold. Fortunately, these caves are rich with this ore. I had to do this for each mold until I could make decent weapons and tools with the metal. Of course, it took me a good part of winter and a lot of ore to make suitable weapons and tools that were not shoddy.
Eventually, I was pleased with the most recent ones I made. Of course, with the hammer and axes I had to resort to making it all out of metal. The wood wasn’t strong enough to hold such heavy metal. It would snap. I tried doing that back before I even attempted smelting the metal. Not to mention trying to sharpen them.
What I have now is beautiful. A nice long sword, a battle ax, and a big war hammer. All created from this ore. The sword and ax aren’t as sharp as I’d like them to be without having a whetstone that is capable of grinding the metal, but it makes up for it in density. It’s heavy enough to break through just about anything. Unfortunately, my leather belt isn’t strong enough to hold the weapons. It ripped as soon as I tried to attach it. So, I ended up having to make a complicated plate link belt with the ore. Even made a loop for the ax and one for the sheath I’ll make for my sword. I’ll have to reinforce it with the metal in some way. I have no idea what to do about the hammer. I might have to make another plate-link belt to go across my shoulder for it.
I’ve grown so strong over the winter. Strong enough to pick up the metal with great ease through my daily rituals. I can do a thousand ground pushes, squats, ledge pulls, and sit stands without getting tired. I can run for a long time through the snow, without breaking a sweat or even getting cold for that matter. The cold hardly bothers me at all. I guess my skin has thickened. I’m fast. Really fast. I outran a goat and a hare. I can catch them with no difficulty at all with just my bare hands. I don’t even hunt with weapons anymore, at least I don’t use them. I still keep them on me just in case I run into whatever those creatures were.
I’ve built my relations with the yetis further. I gave the yeti a hammer I made with the glowing ore. Surprisingly, it picks it up with great ease. It must drink the water. That must be what gave me such strength and speed. This ore must soak into the water and it makes the body as hard as the metal.
One thing I have noticed is that my skin has darkened. It’s gray. I think it’s from eating the mushrooms and drinking the ore water. Maybe that’s why the yeti’s patches of skin that are not covered in its white fur are completely black.
As the land reaches the heart of winter, daylight is scarce. The night seems to last forever. When the sun does rise, it doesn’t take long to set. This is something that always happens every cycle, but living in this cave it seems to make it more daunting. Especially with what lies out there. Those monsters haunt my dreams. I can hear their howls at night.
Days go by as I live my routine, not knowing if it should be day or night. The brief light I get is always shrouded in clouds and it snows constantly. Hunting has all but become impossible. I can’t even find a hare, let alone a goat or bear. Thankfully, I did not find those creatures either. I’ve done decent fishing on the ice. Caught a very large spiked-horned tuna. I have also traded a good deal with the yeti. We’ve become comfortable around each other. The cubs even get excited when I come by. I always bring gifts. I always mess up the hair on the top of their heads every time I see them and they always love it. I can tell they smile and laugh.
I even spent a moment sitting around their fire and they shared their food with me. They’re not as frightening as I first thought. They’re rather friendly. Much friendlier than most humans outside our clan, which is hard to believe. We have found a way to talk to each other with images in the dirt. It’s difficult, but we seem to understand each other more.
From what I can understand, they speak of something similar to what I am, but taller. It makes me think of the Jotnar. Giants from Jotunheim, who are like us but much taller and have raided our lands in the past. We have not seen them in a long time. Thankfully, it does not think of me as one of them. It also does not like those creatures we fought before. They hate them with as much passion. They lost a cub to one. I can understand that pain. They call them Shadow Stalkers, or that’s what I think they’re trying to say. They point at my shadow and make a hand gesture with two fingers of one hand that looks as if it is walking, following the other hand with the same gesture. Or it could be Shadow Followers? Maybe Hunters? I think Stalkers sounds better. One thing is for sure, those creatures do not like the sunlight.
The yeti speak with their hands and they say how it is the yeti way to forgive and move on. You should always take action to keep your people safe and provide for them, but grudges only leave your people vulnerable and at risk of retaliation and a cycle of violence. They tell a story of a war between the tribes of their people. It was a cycle of violence that never stopped until they learned to forgive each other and leave the past behind.
Of course, just because you forgive doesn’t mean you should forget. Remember the past, so you don’t repeat it, but do not relive it. That also doesn’t mean you should not seek justice for wrongdoing. Forgiving is one thing, moving on is another, but to let wrongs go unpunished sets a bad precedent. It isn’t just to seek revenge, but it is also dangerous to let crimes go unpunished, for the one who commits them will think it is okay to do so and will do so again. I’ve come to see that these yetis are wise beyond even our own people. I’ve learned much from the little time I have spent with them and greatly value the wisdom they share.
They tell me there are more of their people to the south in the mountains by the great lake. I heard from the Southern Tribes about their dealings with the yeti. They always made them out to be violent, mindless beasts, but these yetis are smart. Smart enough to trade and draw in the dirt. Wise enough to know the difference between justice and revenge. They are more like us than they are of any other beast. I have enjoyed my time with them. The cubs are particularly playful and they like the gifts I bring them. The toys I’ve carved from wood. I’ve carved many little toys for them. Even some figurines. I made one of Thorkel, even engraving the symbol of Thunar’s hammer on the shield he holds. I also made one of Arngunn and Asfrid, carving Frida’s symbol on Asfrid’s carving. I gave them all to the cubs. They liked them very much. I couldn’t bear to hold on to them, for the pain is still too raw, but carving them helped ease it.
I’ve come to call the big one Longhorn and its mate White-Hair. The male cub, Short-Snub. It grows horns, but at the moment they are just little snubs. The little female cub I’ve named Blue-Eyes because her eyes are bright blue where the others are only brown. In a way, it reminds me of the elves. I suppose I may have treated them unfairly. I feel some guilt thinking about letting Gizor have his way with those elves on the ship, but what else could I have done?
I still haven’t worked out any manner of talk from their grunts, snorts, growls, and other noises they make that seem to act as talk for them, but maybe one day I can make peace with them together.
It is beyond cold out, but for whatever reason, the cave doesn’t get very cold at all. It stays the same warmth during winter or fall, it seems. I think it’s either these mushrooms or the ore. I cannot tell. Maybe the mushrooms grow because of the ore, I do not know. Regardless, I am thankful for it. It is hard to have a fire within the cave without suffocating from the smoke.
Hunting is all but useless. Thankfully, fishing is viable and plentiful. I’ve learned the hard way that I cannot bring out the glow ore weapons and tools. They are too heavy and will break the ice. I’m nearly too heavy myself, which I find is odd, because this time of the cycle, we can carry oxen with huts onto the ice to fish without having to endure the wind. But I can hardly walk without hearing the ice crack and groan, and this ice is as thick as a stone wall.
Even though I have these new weapons and tools, a good relationship with the yeti, and am far stronger and faster than I was when I came, I’ve become distraught. It seems like no matter how strong I get, I cannot even budge the hammer. It will not move. I’m not sure how much stronger I can get. I feel like I could push the ground and pull up from the ledge and little gain anymore. I have nothing heavy enough to lift to gain strength from. I’ve piled almost all the glow ore rocks in the corner. At least all those not in the water. I’m not sure I want to take them out of the water. It has given me great strength and I’m afraid if I take the ore out, the water will just become water. Besides, it gives light, and if I take out all the ore the. Thankfully, the mushrooms seem to grow back nearly every day. So, I never run out of them.
I would like to bring my son up here one day and teach him how to become as strong as I have. And if I take all the ore out of the water, I will rob him of that opportunity.
Of course, I’m sure there are other caves, but how many of them are filled with yeti or other creatures? I would not kick my friends out of their homes just because I want their ore. Especially after they have been so kind and generous to me. Thinking of their family just makes me think of my own. How are my wife and child doing? I pray to the gods to keep them and my brother’s wife and children safe. I hope my brothers and sister are doing well along with my mother and father. I hope all the people of my clan are doing well. I wish I had my wife here to share the nights with. I miss her touch and her kisses. That is why I stay busy with what needs to be done. Because it hurts to think of them and not be able to touch and hold them. I hope it does not take much longer to get strong enough to pull up the hammer.
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