Author: Arathadmin

Bothvar Beorcolsson

After the meetings, I’m grabbed by Solmund, Griotgard, and Skardi. They pull me away as soon as they can. A bowl of shrooms is shoved in my hand along with a mug of mead to wash them down.

“Now, you better eat up. You’re behind and you have to catch up,” Griotgard declares, his hands at his belt with his unkempt beard sticking out in every direction. It’s strange seeing him with a beard. I still remember him as my older brother’s best friend and Solmund as mine, along with Skardi. Skardi has always just been Skardi. Always sailing in a ship of his own wind.

I eat the shrooms as fast as I can and wash the shit-tasting mushrooms down with the sweet mead. Then I’m pulled by the fur on my cloak. My three friends drag me over to where a bunch of other women from the Valkyrie tribe are gathered.

“See!” Griotgard says. “I told you I knew Bothvar. We go way back.”

The young Valkyrie women giggle amongst themselves. One with a head held high steps up. Her beautiful, flowing, golden hair seems to shine in the setting sunlight. “So, you do know the Bone Breaker, a Friend of the Yeti.”

She turns her eyes towards me. Those bright blue eyes. Just like Arngunn’s. How could I forget that endless ocean? I can’t. They’re the only sea I want to swim in. The woman sizes me up, her sapphire eyes travel up and down my body. “You don’t look so tough. I saw you come back with Amalasontha. The sisters that battled that day all speak of your deeds. The way you fought the Bone Breakers with such utter ferocity. And your kindness to the yeti. I would not believe a man is capable of such things if I did not hear it from my sisters’ lips themselves.”

“It is all true, trust me,” Griotgard says, walking up to the Valkyrie. He wraps his arm around her. “I fought alongside him against the most ferocious beasts of the night. They had antlers on their heads and venom dripping from their dagger-sharp teeth. It was an endless sea of them attacking. Not to mention the invasion of the Jotnar. If it weren’t for Bothvar, we’d all be dead.”

She shrugs his arm off and grabs the mug of mead out of his hand, drowning it in one swig. “I may not have been there, but I am no newborn. I’d like to see for myself if the rumors are true. Bothvar Beorcolsson, I challenge you to a duel to first blood!”

I sigh. “Do we have to fight? I still have to spar with my niece, and she’s getting good enough to leave welts. Do you have any idea how hard that girl can hit?”

The maiden’s all laugh. “He must not be the same Bothvar the War Chieftess mentions. He can’t even defend himself against a child.”

“If that child was trained by Bothvar, I wouldn’t be surprised if she teaches you all a thing or two about humility,” an all too familiar voice says. The women all stiffen and clamp their fists to their chests in respect. I turn to find Amalasontha standing behind me. I am shocked I didn’t hear her. She nods as we meet eyes. “It seems you have taken my advice to heart.”

I remember what she told me. The path of pain and suffering. I’ve tried to alter my course. To find a better purpose in life. And here I am, drinking and eating shrooms instead of doing what I promised. “I try to, but it is hard.”

She laughs. “You don’t know the half of it, young Beorcolsson. It’ll be the hardest thing you ever do. As you can see, my own warriors do not understand it. I have my work cut out for me to teach it to them.”

“Teach what, mother?” the same woman who challenged me asks.

“Do not worry, my child. You have much to learn before you can handle that lesson. Much,” she says, with a half-hearted smile. “Now come, children. The friends of Bothvar only want one thing from you, and it isn’t to test your ability to fight.”

“Take care of yourself tonight, Bothvar, and try not to let others lead you astray,” she says as she eyes my friends before she turns away and leads her warriors away. I hear her whisper under her breath. “Young ones, never thinking with their head.”

“Oh, for the love of the gods,” Griotgard complains. “Don’t leave!”

“Bothvar, you, my friend, have quite the reputation,” Solmund says as he clasps a hand on my shoulder. “I’m proud to be your friend, and I hope to share in your glory.”

“I doubt it is about glory, Solmund,” Skardi says as he eyes me. “I think it is about much more than that, but what do I know?”

“You are not wrong, my friend,” I say to Skardi, clapping his shoulder. “It is about duty and service to our people. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

“Let us go drink with the Builders. If I remember correctly, they had some fine women,” Griotgard says.

I laugh and pat him on the back. “You all go ahead. I’ll meet back up with you. I have a promise to fulfill.”

They all nod. Griotgard grabs his empty mug. “Don’t take too long or you’ll miss out.”

“I hope they have that herb we smoked the one time,” Skardi says as the three of them walk off. I head back to the camp to find a little girl who will always have my vow of service. When I meet Thorkel again, I will tell him with pride that his daughter carries on his honor along with our pride.

I stop dead in my tracks as I see what stands at the edge of the woods. My breath catches in my throat. My hands tremble and my heart stands still. Longhorn, White-Hair, and Short-Snubs stand watching me with dead eyes. They just stand there staring at me. “I’m sorry! I should’ve been there. I…”

“Who are you talking to?” I turn around to see my sister with Thora.

“You’re late! After the meeting, you promised to spar with me. You gave your word!” the little girl says with her arms folded against her chest as she glares at me. I turn back to the woods to find nothing. I blink and rub my eyes. It must be those mushrooms they gave me. I shake my head and blink once more. Nothing’s there.

“What are you staring at, brother?” Svala asks as she rubs her chin, looking at the woods.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“So? Are you going to explain why you broke your promise?” Thora asks, tapping her foot.

“I did not break my promise. I told you I would spar with you after the meeting. I did not specify what time after the meeting I’d spar with you. And here I am, as promised,” I say with a smile.

She glares at me. “I suppose you’re right. Only by a technicality.”

“Why is a youngling telling me about what is right and wrong?” I ask no one in particular.

“Someone has to,” Svala says with a grin. My eyes narrow.

“I’m not a youngling. I’m just as old as you were when you trained with father and grandfather. You can’t deny it. Svala and grandfather told me all the tales of you and father’s youth,” she says with a glare.

“So, they have. Well then, shall we get to it?” I ask.

“I want in too. You always leave me out,” Svala says.

“Very well. Get three practice swords and shields. You two will test your skills against me,” I say.

The two scurry off before coming back with practice swords and shields, followed by Thormar and Bodvar. Both with their own practice swords and shields. Bodvar points his at me. “We want to practice with you too! Don’t you dare tell us we can’t!”

I sigh. “Very well. You’ll face me two at a time.”

I’m handed a practice sword and shield. As Thora pushes Bodvar and Thormar out of the way. “We’re first!”

“Seriously?” Bodvar asks. “What’s the point? You’re a girl. You might as well just step aside and let the men train.”

Thora turns around and attacks Bodvar with such speed and ferocity. He’s forced to give ground and back up. “Say it again! Tell me I’m not worthy. Say to me that training me is pointless. I dare you!”

“I was just saying…” He starts, but she roars in defiance and barrages him a volley of strikes, kicks, shield bashes, and screams. For the first time, I see fear in Bodvar’s eyes as he backs peddles, desperately trying to perry and block Thora’s attacks. He trips and she pounces. Whacking him without mercy with her practice sword. Thank the gods it’s not a real one.

“That’s enough!” I shout, yanking her off him.

Bodvar leaps to his feet with wild eyes. “You demon child! I’ll make you…”

“You’ll do nothing!” I snap at him. “You earned that with your stupid words. Now take your shame like a man and step aside. She’s earned the right to train just as you have.”

He huffs but ultimately yields. I must admit, I am just as shocked as the rest. I don’t think I’d ever see the day Bodvar the fearless would be beaten at his own game, but Thora is a different beast indeed. She’s just so full of anger and rage, and I can’t really blame her. A girl without a mother and father, forced to grow up at such a young age. Her childhood was stolen from her by fate. She should play with the other children, but instead all she wants is to practice and grow strong. She’s taking the same path of vengeance upon those who have taken her life from her. The same path I once sought. The path that took what was most dear to me. I can’t blame her. I just hope I can show her a different path. The one I now take. A path of service and duty to our people. That is how she will earn the honor and pride of her father, for that is why he gave his life.

Svala smiles. “You know what, Thora. Let’s let the boys show us how it is done. Let’s let them teach us how to properly fight.”

“But Bothvi promised to spar with us, not them!” Thora wines.

“I know, but trust me. It’ll be best for us to let them try first,” Svala says with a grin. There is something about the way she smiles that makes me feel a bit uneasy. She’s always up to something. The girl has the mind of our mother and father. A dangerous combination.

“Fine… But they better not take too long. I want plenty of time to test out what we practiced,” she says, tossing her shield and practice sword to the ground and folding her arms against her chest.

“Finally, someone sees reason,” Bodvar says as he and Thormar step up. Thormar is a little wearier than our younger brother.

They ready their stances and I wave them on. They both charge at me, swinging wildly. Nearly fighting each other as much as they are fighting me. I dodge and duck at Bodvar’s manic strikes while Thormar is just as busy avoiding the wild swings. He pushes Bodvar aside to strike at me with little effect. Bodvar growls and cuts Thormar off while he attempts to stab at me. My wooden blade deflects it like a still branch.

Thormar heaves his shoulder into Bodvar and swipes at my side to only meet my shield. I let this go on a little longer in amusement before I end it as I get in between them and watch them charge at me, only to step out of the way, letting them collide into each other to fall on their arses.

Both Svala and Thora burst into laughter. Thora falls and rolls on the ground, laughing so hard. Svala leans over to rest her hands on her knees to catch her breath. “See Thora? I told you it would be best to let them go first.”

Bodvar tosses his shield and sword down as he pushes Thormar. “This is your fault.”

Thormar kicks Bodvar’s leg, tripping him. “My fault? How is it my fault?”

Bodvar shoots at Thormar’s ankles, tripping him. “You were getting in my way!”

“You were swinging your wood like a drunken scoundrel! You lost the fight before Bothvar even had to swing his blade,” Thormar says as he throws several punches at Bodvar.

“Okay, that’s enough, you two,” I say as I grab both of them and toss them in separate directions. “You’re both to blame for your loss. You were defeated because you fought each other more than you fought me. I didn’t even have to swing my sword. You two did the fighting for me.”

“It’s our turn now!” Thora says, grabbing her own practice blade and shield. The fire in her eyes makes me hesitate. That and the grin Svala wears. It’s a confident one.

The two girls step up in front of me with their shields up and swords ready. I stretch my neck back and forth, cracking out the dust in my bones, and nod. Thora and Svala charge at me in a fury of strikes and feigns. One fakes a swing only for the other to strike where my shield is not. I have to exert myself to perry with my blade. The two have been spending a lot of time practicing together. They fight as one. Svala swings at my throat while Thora attacks my legs. I barely avoid the blows as I leap over Thora’s sword and block Svala’s with my shield.

Sweat breaks out on my brow as a barrage of strikes and misdirects keeps me on my heels, moving as fast as I can to block and perry their attacks. They move as separate arms to the same body. Attacking where the other is not. When did they get so skilled?

In time they could surpass even me. Despite that, I see their weakness. They all attack without defense and there’s a pattern to their attacks. I let them continue their barrage of strikes, laying my trap as I let them get close. A smile turns upon my lips as they walk right into it. Thora swings at my feet as Svala once again goes for my head. I step on Thora’s wooden blade and duck under Svala’s swing, sending her flying over my shield. Thora releases her sword and darts back. Smart girl. I go to attack and…

I stop dead in my tracks as I see her. She stands behind Thora, staring at me with dead eyes. Tonna watches me with that face of sorrow. Tears of blood run like rivers down her face. Her neck remains ripped open from the teeth of those wretched Bone Eaters. She just stares at me.

A loud crack echoes out as a sharp pain erupts across my back. A rage blinds me as I seek to undo the past. I whip around and attack. Losing myself in my hunger for blood. I see the eyes of every Bone Eater my blades have fed upon. I feel their neck in my hand as I ready my blade to drink their blood once more.

“Bothvar!” My name tears through the blood-red rage. I blink and look down to see my hand wrapped around Svala’s neck. Tears streaming down her eyes. My eyes go wide in horror as I pull myself off of her. What have I done? I look around at Thora, Bodvar, and Thormar as they stare at me in complete terror. My head snaps back to where Tonna stood, only to find the white-haired girl with icy blue eyes staring at me. Her eyes narrowed as they pierce into me.

I turn away from all of them and leave. I walk as far away from all of them as I can. Even the sun hides itself from me, and rightfully so. The fear in their eyes was because of me. Am I becoming a monster?

—

I continue to wander through the sea of people. They drink and celebrate. Cheering with mugs raised. Singing and dancing. None of it brings me peace or joy. Everywhere I look, I see the faces of the dead. They’re haunting me. Every face is one I’ve killed. Even the creatures of the night linger in the darkness, watching me. They’re out there waiting for me. I can smell their stench.

I have no solace. No safe haven. No matter where I go, the dead follow me. Haunting me. I stop dead in my tracks at a sight that grips what’s left of my heart as I’m confronted by two little boys, one younger than the other. Their eyes are white and their skin decays. They hold the hands of a woman as cold as a winter chill. Asfrid stands there with a face gaunt with death as her rotten flesh clings to her bones. A skeleton wrapped in dead skin. Her son in one hand and mine in the other.

“Why are you haunting me?” I scream.

My skin crawls as I hear her speak. “You did this. You let us die.”

I let out a roar.

“Are you okay?” I look up to see the eyes of a stranger. “You don’t look so good.”

I realize I’m on my knees. I look past him to see that same icy blue-eyed girl with white hair. Is she behind this? Is she haunting me?

I push past him and rush through the crowd of people who whisper about me. I hear my name on their lips. Why won’t they leave me alone?

I rush out of the camp and into another as I stop dead in my tracks at the sight in front of me. Gorm and his friends hold a slave girl down and take turns fucking her as she sobs and cries in shame. Gorm pauses as he sees me. “Oh, look who has graced us with his presence. The Giant Slayer himself. Want a turn on the bitch?”

I look down at the woman as she stares up at me with pleading eyes. No! The face staring up at me is none other than Arni’s. Those deep sea-blue eyes are full of tears. But the blue fades in them, leaving nothing but the paleness of death. “Why did you leave me? Why did you let me die?”

I lose it. My rage and wrath pour out as I attack the men. Slamming my fist into Gunnstein’s face as he tried to shove his cock in Arngunn’s mouth. I turn on Moldof and bury my fist in his gut, making him cough out blood. I roar in a blinding rage as I toss Sigmund aside and clamp my hands around Gorm’s neck, pinning him up against a tree as I try to choke the life out of him. But when I see whose neck, I have my hands wrapped around; I gasp in horror. Thorkel’s lifeless eyes stare back at me. I let go and scramble backward, nearly tripping over Arngunn as she sobs tears of blood. Thorkel’s eyes bore into me. “It was you who killed us, brother. You!”

I turn as I see the frosty blue-eyed girl with the snow-white hair watching me and I run. Running through the crowds, into the town, and past the buildings until I find myself at the docks.

Kneeling before the dark, endless sea, I bring my eyes to the stars above. Searching for a sign. Any sign. “I’m sorry! If any of you can hear me, please know that I am sorry. I was not there to save you, and your deaths are all my fault. Please forgive me.”

I slump down and hang my head. How can I find redemption when I can’t bring the dead back to life? I can’t undo my failures. If only I could’ve done things differently. Thorkel would be alive if I had acted. If I would’ve sought out and killed the Shadow Stalkers, Longhorn, White-Hair, and Snubs wouldn’t have become their prey. Why do I lose myself in my rage? Tonna died because I was drunk in bloodlust and I nearly killed Svala in it, too. Why didn’t I return home when they needed me most? Why did I leave my wife, her sister, and their sons, my own and my brother’s, to fend for themselves and starve? Their blood covers my hands.

I hear the dock creak with footsteps. I turn to find that icy-cold stare upon me. Her eyes seem to glow with the cold, winter ice in the darkness. “Why are you following me?”

“You see them too, don’t you?” she asks.

“See what?” I ask.

“The dead. You see them just like I do. They haunt you as they haunt me. Tell me I’m wrong,” she says.

I meet her icy stare and silently nod. “That’s what I thought.”

She sighs as she walks by me and sits down at the end of the dock. “They won’t leave you alone, you know that, right?”

“What do you know of it?” I ask as I sit down beside her.

“I was there… I saw my father fall as I stood helpless by my mother’s side. We watched from afar as our army marched against the Southerners. The Usurper Vandil swept upon our force like the wind. I suppose that is why they call him Windfury. His giant ax howls every time he swings it. And his strikes leave carnage in their wake. I stood with my mother as he cut down our warriors with each swipe of his ax. One by one they fell in his path, but my father did not fear his ax. He stood strong and faced him. He fought bravely. Like a true warrior, and I am proud to call him my father. He was the strongest warrior I ever knew. I thought no man could defeat my father. He fought like the storm itself, but it was not enough…” She turns her eyes to the sea as tears wet her cheeks. With a sleeve, she wipes them away and grits her teeth.

She stares out at the water, taking in a deep breath. “I watched frozen as the two met in battle and fought long and hard, but then the Tyrant Usurper beheaded my father so suddenly. His ax was soaked with the blood that gave me life, and there was nothing I could do. Over and over again, I see it happen. I want to kill the usurper so badly. I want to drench my blades in his blood, as he did to my father and I want to cut his head off. I don’t just want to kill him; I want to utterly defeat him. But most of all, I just want to see my father one last time.”

She wipes more tears from her eyes and rests her head against her knees as she brings them against her chest. “I don’t even know if he is in Valholl. We couldn’t recover his body. If that wasn’t bad enough, after we came out of hiding in the land of the elves, my half-sister was taken by Southern slavers. Just to pour salt in the wound, I now have word that she is none other than the slave of the son of the Tyrant Usurper himself. I will kill both of them. I swear it. The Tyrant Usurper and his son.”

I look at her, finding tears in my own eyes. I don’t know what to say, but I know exactly how she feels. I let out the breath trapped in my lungs and stare out into the endless sea. “You might be one of the few people who truly understands my pain.”

She breathes and turns to me. “Thanks.”

I raise an eyebrow as I meet her eyes. “For what?”

“For listening and not apologizing. I hate when people do that as if they were responsible for the death of my father.”

I laugh. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“By the way, I saw what you did back there and I thank you,” she says.

“For what?” Once again, I have that eyebrow raised.

“For stopping those bastards from raping my servant. They had no right. If it was me, I’d have killed them,” she says.

“I should’ve. Gorm and his friends deserve no less,” I say.

“Why didn’t you? It looked like you were going to,” she says.

I stare back out at the black sea. “I wanted to, but when I looked into his eyes, I saw my brother’s face staring back at me.”

“I see. Well, either way, I appreciate what you did,” she says.

I only shrug. “I did what I thought was right.”

A silence passes by, but not an unpleasant one. She looks at me with a smirk. I find myself once again raising an eyebrow at her. “What?”

“You know I’m not going to marry you, right?” she says.

I lean back with my eyes narrowing in confusion. “Where did that come from?”

“I heard your father speak to my mother, trying to convince her to wed us. It’s not going to happen,” she says.

“Good, I don’t want it to happen,” I say.

“Why? Are you saying I’m not good enough?” she asks. This time she’s the one with a single eyebrow raised.

“What? I didn’t say that. I just said I don’t want to marry you either,” I say.

“Yeah, but why?”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to marry me? Why does it matter?” I ask.

“Well, I don’t, but why wouldn’t you want to marry me?” she asks.

“Because I don’t have a heart to give you. It is somewhere out there with the one that I love, and one day I’ll get it back when I see her again.”

She nods. “I understand.”

“Good. And why wouldn’t you want to marry me?” I ask, tilting my head at her.

She only smiles. “You’re simply not the one my mother prophesied about.”

“Is that so? What makes me not the one?”

She shrugs. “First, I don’t think you are my enemy. In fact, I’m surprised to find that I think I like you. You’re a bit crazy, but so am I. I believe you’re just as broken as I am. And I don’t think you are my long-lost kin either.”

“I don’t know about long lost, but we are kin. We are both descendants of the great Ironside who was the first king of our people.”

“So… You’re still not my enemy, are you?” she asks.

“Maybe not now, but who knows what the future brings. I hope I’m never your enemy, but if I ever become your enemy, that would certainly fulfill the prophecy, wouldn’t it?” I crook my head down at her.

“I thought you said you didn’t want to marry me,” she says.

“I don’t. I was just pointing out the possibility.”

“Good, because you’re not my type,” she says, crossing her arms against her chest and tearing her gaze away from mine.

“Is that so? What makes me not your type?” I ask.

“Well, for starters, you have a sword dangling between your legs and I prefer shields.”

It takes me a moment to understand what she means by what she said. Then my eyes go wide as I figure it out. “Oooh. I see. I guess if that is what you like, then that settles it.”

She smiles. “Glad you understand. Besides, I think I am in love with another person. She’s a bit crazy, but aren’t we all? Unfortunately, she’s an outsider and my mother doesn’t trust her. That’s why she wasn’t allowed to attend the feast. I’m rather mad at my mother because of it.”

“I suppose that’s what parents do. My mother can be a bit infuriating at times as well.”

She laughs. “I’ve heard.”

I share the laugh. “I bet you have.”

“I’ve actually heard a lot of things about you. It’s hard to figure out what’s true and what is false.”

“Don’t believe any of it. It’s all exaggerated and blown out of proportion. People love to make a sea out of a pond.”

She giggles. “I bet. What is true, then?”

“I fought the Bone Eaters, but I didn’t fight them alone and I got lost in a rage, paying a high price for it. Because of my actions, a friend died. As far as the giants go, I may have killed a few, but if it weren’t for this wizard warrior named Thon, our village would’ve been completely destroyed and the people all either dead or taken. And I didn’t fight the Shadow Stalkers alone. I had help. In fact, if it were not for a friend named Longhorn who paid the ultimate price, I would be dead.”

“So, it is true. You are the one she spoke of,” Scyra says as she looks at me in a new light.

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

“Shuli, the yeti woman. She spoke of a human man she said was like me. She called him Shadow Killer because he slew the hunters of the night and saved her life. I wasn’t sure who she spoke of until I heard rumors about you. That you were a slayer of giants, a Bone Breaker… I laughed at those, by the way. Then I heard them call you a Killer of the Shadows and a Friend of the Yetis, and that made me wonder. I still wasn’t sure until now. Until you mentioned Longhorn. That’s what she said you called her father.”

I can’t help but drop my jaw as my eyes widen. Is she talking about… No. “Although, she also said he didn’t like that name. At least initially. She laughed as she told me he thought you were very annoying when they first met you. But you honored them with your gifts, and he felt like he owed you hospitality because you saved his life, even though he also saved yours. However, she said he grew to like you and enjoy your company after a while. They all did.”

“You spoke to Blue-Eyes? How?” I ask in complete astonishment. My jaw still hangs gaping.

“Her name is Shuli. Although, she liked the way you looked into her eyes with such reverence, so she didn’t mind you calling her Blue-Eyes. However, her brother hated the name Short-Snubs and her mother didn’t really care for White-Hair. You do know that all yeti have white hair, right? And Short-Snubs? Seriously? You’re not very good with names. If we were ever forced to be married, I will definitely handle the naming of any kids we’d have, which won’t happen anyway, so there’s no point in humoring it. But seriously, you know his horns will grow, right?”

A laugh snorts out of me. I laugh so hard it makes me tear up with joy. I can’t remember when I laughed this hard. “So, what were their names?”

“Well, Longhorn’s actual name was Ukam. White-Hair was named Feneborn and their son, who you called Short-Snubs, was named Ulluc. Their names are kinda strange, but not as barbaric as I expected. I honestly thought they would choose something like Longhorn or Blue-Eyes. Do you know how rare it is for a yeti to have blue eyes? She’s one of the few I saw with them. How strange,” she says, scratching her chin.

My smile deepens thinking about the little yeti. “How did you come by them?”

She looks at me, biting her lip. Then she looks out at the sea before she dives into the tale. “Well… That’s a complicated story. You see, originally, we saw the yeti as a nuisance. They made it impossible to travel in the mountains and would often attack our people. We’d return in kind of course, but tension grew and things were misunderstood. It didn’t help that the Southerners of Barefrost were also attacking the yeti. Then we met a wizard warrior, as you would call it. Not too unlike the one you mentioned, but she was a woman named Aketa and had another woman with her. My mother hired her to deal with the yeti.”

She turns and smiles at me. “Of course, me being me, I couldn’t let them have all the glory by themselves, so I joined them along with Thyia, the outsider I told you about. We traveled up the mountains and stalked them until we found one fighting the Southerners. It was Aketa who said we should help it. She was sure she could talk to it. I wasn’t convinced, but Thyia said we should humor her. So, we attacked the Southerners and killed them before they could kill the yeti.”

I listen to her story as anger rises inside me. After my experience with Blu… Shuli, I feel protective of the yeti. She continues. “The yeti was weary of us, but Aketa seemed to be able to converse with it. I understood some of what was being said. Her name was Shuli, and she wanted to find a human she called Shadow Killer. She found the Southerners and went to talk to them when they attacked her.”

I tense up with wide eyes. “What was she doing outside of the conclave?”

“She wanted to see you. You should visit her,” she says.

“I will certainly have to. When was this?” I ask.

“It wasn’t that long ago, earlier this spring. But anyway, Aketa became our translator and Shuli told us your story. She also introduced us to the other yeti. We discussed many things, and I learned how to roughly speak their hand talk. I’m not very good at it, but I can communicate with them well enough to make trades and have a rough conversation. Anyway, we later introduced my mother and uncle to the yeti and brokered a peace treaty. We also explained that we were not with the humans from Barefrost. They are treacherous and can’t be trusted. They seemed to understand, and we now have a rather good relationship with the yeti. We trade goods with them. They allow us to get minerals and metals, and we give them fish and other goods. Shuli and I still talk. She always asks if I found you. I can’t wait to tell her I finally did,” she says with a smile, tucking a loose string of bright white hair behind her ear.

“Thank you for telling me all of this. You have no idea how much it means to me. I needed to hear this. Especially after all that has happened today. It feels good to know she is well.”

“Of course. Maybe tomorrow we can pay her a visit before you leave,” she says.

“Yes, I’d like that very much,” I say.

I hear footsteps coming out onto the dock. We both turn to see two girls walking out towards us, one slightly taller than the other. “Bothvi? Is that you?”

Scyra bursts into laughter. “Bothvi?”

I ignore her. “Thora? Svala?”

Thora runs out to us and I shout at her. “Don’t run on the docks!”

“There you are! We’ve been looking everywhere for you. We heard you got into a fight with Grom and his minions, and you kicked their arses,” she says, smacking her fist into her other hand. “You showed those rotten, no-good, pansy, goat turds.”

“My god, girl! Who teaches you how to talk like that?” I ask as I eye Svala.

“Hey, don’t look at me,” she says, but not in her normal sarcastic tone. Her face is full of fear. She’s afraid of me and for good reason.

“Everyone talks like this. Why can’t I talk like this?” Thora asks.

“Because you’re not old enough,” I say.

She huffs. “I am too old enough. I’ll talk how I want to talk.”

I sigh and let the issue go. “So, what do you want?”

I realized as soon as the words left my mouth that they weren’t the best choice of words. Both of the girls cross their arms against their chests and look down at me with scorn. Thora practically growls. “What do we want? Well, we certainly didn’t come out here to see if you were okay or anything. Obviously, you’re fine since you’re sitting here with a beautiful woman. Besides, only a weakling would lose to Grom.”

Both Svala and Scyra laugh. I eye Svala suspiciously. I know she gets Thora to talk like this. “You’re the one who gets her to say all that, aren’t you?”

Svala only shrugs. “None of it is wrong.”

Thora steps up and punches my shoulder and it actually hurts. “What in the name of the gods was that for?”

“No one tells me what to say.” She sticks her bottom lip out and actually huffs. Suddenly, one of those blasted whales springs up from the water and sprays us.

Thora laughs. “Tell ’em, Meara! She thinks you’re an old grumpy bear!”

“Okay then,” I say.

Scyra’s jaw is hanging as she stares at Thora and then back at the sea where the whale was. “What…”

“For whatever reason, the killer whales seem to think she’s one of them,” I try to explain with a shrug.

“They’re my friends and they aren’t the only ones. I met a shark named Lulu back in Stormfront and she is absolutely adorable. She’s a great white with the sweetest smile. A bit toothy. I even convinced the whales to get along with her. They’ve welcomed Lulu into their pod-like she’s one of them,” Thora says.

This earns another strange look from Scyra. “And I thought I was the weird one with the ability to wield ice and winter storms. You are on an entirely different level.”

Thora smiles. “That’s not all I can do. Check this out. I just learned this not that long ago.”

Thora concentrates really hard and water slings up from the sea like a rope and pools into her hands like a ball. However, she sneezes, and the ball rains down on the docks.

Svala smacks the back of her head. “Thora! Mother said you’re not supposed to show anyone this stuff.”

“Mother knows about the water and her friends?” I ask.

Svala nods. “But she wants us to keep it a secret.”

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” Scyra says. She puts her hand on Thora’s head. “I know what it is like to be different. Trust me, it is not a bad thing. You are special.”

“She is the Daughter of the Sea,” I say.

“I don’t even know what that means,” Thora says, getting a laugh from us all.

“Well, we’re going back to where the people are. We actually have friends that want to be around us. We’ll leave you with your…” Thora looks up at Svala. “What was the word you wanted me to say?”

Svala sighs, dragging her hand down her face. “Betrothed!”

“What does that mean?” Thora asks, tugging on her blonde hair.

Svala throws up her arms. “Nevermind. I’ll tell you later. Come on, let’s go and leave these two lovebirds alone. We don’t want to know what they’ll be up to.”

“Svala, wait,” I say. She stops and looks at me. “About earlier. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s fine. No big deal. It was just a sparring match in which we won, by the way.” She shrugs, but without realizing it, her hand goes up to her neck. Then she realizes it and quickly pulls it away, taking Thora’s hand. “Come on Thora. Let’s go see if we can egg Thormar and Bodvar into a fight.”

“Yes! Let’s do it,” Thora says, pumping her fist in the air.

I let out a long sigh, dragging my hand down my face in exacerbation. How have my siblings lived this long? The two walk off. “My sister is a bad influence on my niece. Those two together are trouble. They’re like those damn killer whales. They work together too well, and it doesn’t help that they’re both getting so strong and fast, nor the fact that Svala is so damn cunning. She will make a great warrior one day, and so will Thora. That punch actually hurt. It felt like I was hit with a hammer.”

Scyra laughs. “They’ve got spunk, and they’re not bad in a fight. I like them. They certainly gave you a run for your coin. At least until you got distracted staring at me.”

“I wasn’t staring at you. I just… I thought I saw a ghost,” I say as the memory of Tonna’s bleeding eyes haunts my thoughts. I shake it out. “But yeah, I tell you what, more and more Thora resembles my brother Thorkel. Her father. I see him in her every time I look at her. Him and her mother. She’s got both of their stubbornness. And her mother’s mouth. That woman cursed more than anyone I’ve ever known. She and Thorkel would argue a lot, and yet I think that made them love each other more. It was confusing. And yet her sister, my beloved Arngunn, was the exact opposite. She was kind and sweet. Wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

I turn to stare off at the sea.

“My sister was like that. She was too kind. I tried to harden her up a bit, but she was never like me. She cared about everyone and everything. Even the ugliest of creatures. We once found a nasty-looking animal in the Elven Woods and she treated it like it was a little puppy. I think it’s because she was half-elven. I don’t know. The elves I met were fierce. They taught me how to fight and made me strong, but Alyndra was nothing like them. Just a little girl who liked to smell flowers.”

I look at her with a hurting heart. “Arngunn loved flowers too. She’d spend all day picking them if she could. She always had them in her hair and always smelled of them.”

“She sounds sweet. I bet I would’ve liked her. Hell, I might’ve stolen her right out from under your nose,” she says with a devious smile.

I laugh. “You are something else.”

She shrugs. “I am who I am.”

“I’m glad I met you. It has been a long time since I had a good laugh, and I am happy that Blue… Shuli is doing well. I cannot wait to see her tomorrow. I think I will bring my family. She will want to meet them.

“I bet so too. Well, I need to sneak out and meet up with Thyia. She’s camped outside the village, stuck by herself. She’ll need some company.” She gets up and dusts herself off. We’re both a little wet from that cursed whale. “I can honestly say it was a pleasure to meet you, Giant Slayer. Try not to get too many ridiculous titles.”

I laugh as I climb to my feet. “It was nice to meet you as well. I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

She nods. “I’ll meet you at your camp. Don’t forget to bring some gifts. They think gifts are a high honor or something.”

I nod. “I should get carving Shuli a toy. She liked the ones I gave her back in the mountains.”

She snorts a laugh. “I think you’d be surprised.”

I raise an eyebrow. “What, why? She’s only a little cub.”

Scyra grins. “She’s not the little cub you remember. She’s taller than you. You do realize younglings grow up, right? You’re a little thick in the head sometimes, aren’t you?”

I tilt my head as my face contorts with a cringe. “Me? Thick in the head? No… Okay, maybe just a little.”

She giggles. She’s got a delightful laugh. It is a sweet melody. Her voice is pleasant to hear in general. Crisp, clear, and sweet like honey. “Well, I’ll see you in the morning, Shadow Killer,” she says as she walks off. I turn to take one last look at the sea and breathe it in. I am starting to think marrying her wouldn’t be so bad. It’s too bad she prefers shields over swords. But it wouldn’t work, anyway. She’s not Arngunn.

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Bothvar Beorcolsson

We set up our tents just outside the village. The slaves do most of the work setting up camp and pitching our tents. Thormar gets stuck with Bodvar. Thora with Aunt Sigvor and Svala. Sigvor’s slaves are behind them with Thormar’s. Mother obviously with father. Me by myself, next to the men who’ll be on my ship and my brothers. I know I said I will not raid, but I’ve come to admit the necessity. I won’t have another winter where my people starve. If it means taking from others, so be it. Besides, as much as I have all but put aside the thoughts of revenge, I will kill the elf who took my brother if I come across him.

As we finish getting settled in, I head out to find my father. He is arguing with my mother like always, and it’s about the Wolf Clan, which is even less of a surprise. “Beorcol, you can’t go starting fights. This is not the place or the time to do so.”

“I cannot let that bastard, Bjarni, get away with what he did. He killed my father and my grandfather. I saw it with my own eyes. I will not rest until his head lies at my feet,” my father says.

“And then what, will you let his son, Vidkunn, get his revenge upon you for killing his father?” mother asks, crossing her arms against her chest with a glare. “Will you continue this stupid cycle of taking father after father? If you kill Bjarni and Vidkunn kills you, then that will force your children to seek revenge. And Vidkunn’s children. And the children of their children. This cycle must stop here and now.”

My father grumbles. “I hate when you’re right, but that doesn’t mean I agree to it. If Bjarni and his sons provoke me, I’ll kill ’em. I’ll kill ’em all and end the blood feud once and for all.”

“Then you better make sure you kill every last Wolf or you’ll shackle our children to this prison of stupidity,” she says before she turns her back to him and walks away muttering under her breath. “Stupid, pig-headed, sheep’s arse, chicken shit of a man.”

My father huffs. “Damn the gods. Why does that woman always have to be right?”

His eyes meet mine. “I take it you heard that?”

“I think the entire camp heard that,” I say.

“You might be right. She is so loud,” he says, and I can’t help but laugh.

“She is your wife,” I say with a grin.

“That she is, and as crazy as it sounds, I would have no other. The damn woman is far wiser than I,” he says, sighing. I follow him as he walks to the mess tent and pours himself a mug of ale and downs the entire thing. “I needed that. Shall we head to the meeting of the clans? Wouldn’t want to miss that shit feast.”

I nod, and he puts his hand on my shoulder. “We’ll need the intervention of the gods to make it out of that meeting with a clean sword. Where are your siblings? Fetch Bodvar and Thormar. I want them to witness it so they see the stupidity they’ll have to deal with when I’m gone.”

I nod and head to their tent, pushing inside to see a shit feast of their own. The two are at each other’s throats, trying to see who can go longer without breathing. I sigh and yank Thormar off of Bodvar, tossing him outside. How am I not surprised by either of these two. It’s been taking less and less to boil Thormar’s blood and Bodvar knows exactly where to dig to unbury Thormar’s anger.

Thormar barges back into the tent. “I’ll kill him. I swear to the gods, I’ll kill him.”

I have to restrain him as Bodvar holds up a fist with his pinky finger out signally that Thormar has a little pecker and only causes him to erupt in further rage. And of course, Bodvar continues to hurl insults at him. “Oh, come off it. You’re acting like a girl. All I did was touch one thing.”

“You’re a donkey’s arse! I told you not to touch my stuff and then I find it all flung out on the floor,” Thormar says as he tries to push past me to charge at him once more.

“I told you I wanted this side. You took it just to spite me,” Bodvar says as he folds his hands against his chest and spits on the ground.

“Will you two shut up? Bodvar, what does it matter what side you sleep on? And don’t touch Thormar’s stuff. You know how sensitive he is,” I say rather satirically.

“I always sleep on my right side and I don’t want to sleep with my back to the entrance,” Bodvar says.

“That is a fair point. Thormar, why did you take that side when Bodvar claimed it for himself?” I ask.

“He only claimed it after I had already set my stuff down on the bed and settled in,” Thormar says.

“Bodvar, why can’t you just sleep on the other side of the bed so that way you’ll be facing the entrance in case someone, for whatever reason, decides to come into your tent,” I say.

Bodvar thinks it over. “I don’t know. Then my head will be close to the entrance. It’d be all too easy to pull a knife out and stab me in the neck before I can react.”

I toss my hands up in the air. “You two will just have to figure this out on your own then. Father is waiting for us to head to the meeting. He doesn’t want to be late. Are you two going to make him late over your petty squabbles?”

Both shake their heads no. “Then come on.”

They follow me out as Svala, Thora, and Aunt Sigvor exit their own tent. Thora rushes up to me, grabbing my tunic. “Bothvi, are we going to train? You said you would spar with me today.”

I can’t help but let out a sigh. “It’ll have to wait until after the meeting.”

“But you said once we get to the village, we will train. Well?” She says, raising her hands. “We’re at the village, are we not?”

Svala has a big smirk on her lips. Why does she take so much delight in my misery?

“I can’t do it now, girl. The meeting won’t take that long. Just be patient,” I say. Thora glares at me with her arms crossed.

 “Come on, Thora. Let us go meet up with your grandmother and aunty Ingithora. Then you can go play with the other children,” Sigvor says.

“Okay, but if you don’t honor your word, I’ll tan your hide just like Grandmother does!” I spit out a laugh. She huffs. “Don’t laugh at me. I’ll do it.”

“I don’t doubt it,” I say with a smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll spar with you once we are done.”

“You better,” she says, stalking off with Svala and Sigvor.

“That girl is going to be the death of me,” I mutter as we meet up with father.

“What took you so long?” father asks.

I just glare at him. He sighs and looks at Bodvar and Thormar, who both only shrug. Dirty rotten bastards.

—

We enter the great hall where tables are already set up in one giant square. Some clan leaders are already here, including Amalgunda with Amalasontha, who both nod our way as we enter, and next to them is Trefor Trehame with his sons, Asgrim and Kadal. Kveldulf and a tall giant woman sit across from them. She is either his wife or daughter, I can’t really tell. although she isn’t ugly, which is surprising. She’s rather beautiful for being such a giant of a woman.

Behind us, a pack of Wolves walk in with Bjarni at the front. My father and he meet with fire in their eyes. Behind him are his son, Vidkunn; his daughter, Asny; Vidkunn’s sons Thorgrim, Thorhall, and Gadaric; and Asny’s twins, Baldric and Siv.

“Have to bring the entire pack with you?” father asks with a smirk.

Bjarni eyes my father. The older man seems to debate whether or not to take the bait. “Don’t tell me the great Beorcol Thorgrimsson is afraid of some boys?”

My father spits on the floor. “I am not afraid of any Wolf. In fact, my hall is filled with wolf pelts. I would like to add a few more.”

Baldric growls behind him as he and his sisters clench their fists. Those two always seemed more wolf than man or woman. Although, I can admit that the woman is not bad on the eyes. “Count yourself lucky that I don’t allow my grandchildren to kill you where you stand, you treacherous swine.”

“I’d like to see them try. Maybe today will be the day I finally end the Wolf line, since it was a mistake,” father growls.

“Will you two ever put it to rest?” a familiar voice says. We all look up to find Eawyn entering with her daughter and Kadal Bothvarsson, the brother of King Teowulf. “I grow tired of your constant petty squabbling.”

“How can I rest when the man who killed my father and grandfather still breathes?” Father asks.

“They deserved it for killing my father Vikar and my grandfather Hallkel,” Bjarni growls back.

“You both have plenty of reasons to hate each other, but there are plenty more reasons to become friends rather than enemies,” Eawyn says as she, Kadal, and her daughter step up to the table. She places her hands on the table and leans in. “Word has grown that the Southerners are discussing taking actions against our raids. They want to not only put an end to them, but also an end to us.”

“Where did you hear this?” Bjarni says.

“I have my spies. So far, from my understanding, it is only the three Northern cities that want war. Chillshore which was stolen from us, Barefrost, and Darkstall. Fortunately, for now, they do not have the support of the Usurper swine, Vandil. But we should prepare for the inevitability that they will eventually gain his support and come knocking at our doorsteps. We should always be ready for war, even in times of peace,” Eawyn says. Then she stands up straight and brings her hands out to the empty seats. “Now, will you two join us to discuss these important matters?”

My father and the Wolf Leader glare at each other before they nod to Eawyn. We take our seats next to the Valkyrie Clan on the other side of the Builders, while the Wolves sit across from us with the Giants. Eawyn sighs. “I take it the Eagle Clan will not be joining us?”

“Have they ever joined us?” my father asks as slaves bring out drinks for everyone.

“Cowards. That’s what they are,” Kveldulf says, slamming his fist against the table, cracking it. “We should’ve wiped them out when they refused to join us in the war against the South.”

“We will not fight each other, that is exactly what the Southerners want,” Amalasontha says.

“As always, the wisdom of the Valkyrie Clan shows true. As much as the Eagles deserve to be punished, we would only hasten our own defeat at the hands of the Southerners when we let our warriors die at the sword of our fellow Northerners,” Eawyn says as she looks particularly at my father and Bjarni. “Now, before we dig into this issue, let us first discuss other important things such as trade and food, then we’ll discuss raiding, and finally we’ll bring the subject of potential war up once again.”

Everyone nods. Eawyn smiles as she takes a sip, before continuing. “Now what clans need food? It may have not been as long as The Longest Night, but Winter was still a harsh one.”

“We could use more food to last until summer,” father says, before taking a long swallow of his drink. “The Jotnar raid wiped out a good portion of what we had left from winter.”

“We have plenty to spare and will gladly send some of it over,” Amalgunda says.

My father nods at her in thanks. “When summer arrives, we will send over all the spare fish that is caught by our fishermen.”

Amalgunda nods in return.

“Anyone else?” Eawyn asks. No one else speaks up. “Then on to the next issue. Trade. Let us hear all the needs you have and see if we can come to an agreement.”

“As always, the Builders are forever in need of raw materials. Except for lumber, we could always use more metals, clothes, clay, and more. We’re willing to trade finished tools and weapons for raw materials as long as we can keep a share to ourselves for our own needs,” Trefor says, scratching his white beard.

“We have just come to discover a massive amount of ore within the mountains. Mostly coal, iron, and this heavy metal that is nearly impossible to lift without proper training. We’d be glad to help mine and deliver it with the aid of your people for a cut of the tools and weapons made from it,” father says.

Trefor nods, resting his hands on his big round belly. “That is a fair trade. We’ll agree to it. We can send over people to help mine and carry the ore after the end of the meeting of the clans.”

Father nods. Then Bjarni speaks up. “The Southerners at Barefrost have plenty of metal to give once we take it from them. The mountains surrounding their town are rich with it. We’ll give you most of what we take for a share of the tools and weapons made from it.”

Trefor also nods at him. “That deal is also satisfactory.”

“We can help mine and deliver it if we can have a share as well,” Amalgunda says.

“I see no problem with that. And the Giants are also welcome to help for a share,” Trefor says.

“The mountains to our north have more metal than all of us could ever mine in the lifetimes of our children’s children. I see no problem in sharing it with all who help us mine it,” father says with a nod. “Just be warned that the mountains can be treacherous and are filled with these fiendish creatures we’ve come to call Shadow Stalkers. They hunt at night and feed on flesh. I’m also certain that the thieves at Chillshore also mine in the mountains, so we have to be prepared for a fight.”

“I welcome a fight with those bastards,” Kveldulf says, once again slamming his fist on the table, further splintering it.

“I fear no fight with the usurpers, but won’t seek it out either,” Amalasontha says, wearily. “I do not want to lose any of my people needlessly.”

They all nod at that. Eawyn speaks up. “We, too, will send aid to the mountains. Now, are there any other needs to be met?”

Eawyn takes a moment to wait for any response. “No? Then let us move on to raiding. Last cycle, raids went well. Shall we plan to do the same this time around?”

“I see no problem with that,” father says.

“Easy for you to say, squid lover,” Vidkunn barks, slamming his fist down.

Father lets out a low growl. “What did you call me?”

“You heard me!” Vidkunn says with a snarl.

“Maybe you’d like to say that to my ax,” father says even though we do not have weapons on us because it is forbidden during clan meetings, for obvious reasons.

Vidkunn stands up. “Gladly.”

“Son, now is not the time,” Bjarni says.

“Finally, one of you Wolves speaks wisdom,” father says.

“Oh, and you’re just a fountain of knowledge?” Bjarni asks.

“I’ve got more wisdom in my little finger than you have in your entire clan,” father says.

“That’s it! Let us form a square!” Bjarni shouts, spilling over his ale as he pounces to his feet.

“Enough. This has got to end,” Eawyn says.

“It’ll end when he lies on a burning funeral pyre,” father says, stabbing his eyes into the old Wolf.

“No! I forbid it. You all act like children,” Eawyn says.

Scyra snorts a laugh. “You should punish them like children. Make them work together like you did when I fought with Alyndra…”

She looks away as her eyes close in a bitter sadness. I heard about what happened to her sister. Snatched up by Southern slavers and sold.

Eawyn rubs her chin. “Maybe that is exactly what we should do. My daughter has far more wisdom than either of you two have shown so far. Here is what I decree. You two shall trade sons who will live with the other clan. You will learn each other’s ways.”

“For how long?” my father asks.

“Until you both can see that you are not that different from each. Until you learn to bury this hate, you have for the other. That is my decree,” she says.

“A wise one, it is if it succeeds,” Kadal says.

“I don’t like it,” Bjarni says.

“Neither do I,” father says.

“So, you’d rather kill each other instead? What will that solve aside from making us all weaker? We need to stand strong together or we will be defeated by ourselves,” she says.

Father looks back at us. He eyes me, then Thormar, and then Bodvar. Then his glare lands on the Wolves before turning back to Eawyn. “Do we get to choose who we trade?”

“Your youngest. You’ll send over Bodvar and Bjarni, you’ll give up Gadaric. You’ll integrate them within your clan and by the gods. If any harm shall come to them by one of your own, you’ll have to answer to me,” she says.

“And if they get hurt during a raid?” Bjarni asks.

“Why would you ask that?” father says. “Are you planning on my son having an accident?”

“No. I wouldn’t sink so low, but if he is to be one of us, he’ll raid like us,” Bjarni says.

“If he falls by the blade of a Southerner, then we will exact our punishment on the South, however, if I suspect foul play, I will bring down swift justice on the guilty,” Eawyn says, slamming her hand on the table. Ice spreads from her touch, freezing the entire table in a thick layer of ice. “Am I clear?”

Everyone nods. Eawyn smiles and draws the ice back into her hand. “Then it is settled. Bodvar Beorcolsson will go to the Wolf Clan, and Gadaric Vidkunnsson will go to the Kraken Clan. They will remain there until both clans can set aside their differences and bury their hate for each other, and I’ll decide when that happens.”

“Now, let us talk about more important matters. I fear war might be inevitable with the South if we continue to raid upon their ships and caravans, but I do not think we should stop because we have just cause for such actions. As long as they still hold Chillshore, we will not stop raiding them. Chillshore is ours. We built it. They have no right to dirty it with their greedy tyrant arses,” she says, anger burning into her words even though they have an icy sting.

The leaders all smack the tables in agreement. A smile appears on Eawyn’s face. “We might not be ready to face the Southerners in war, just yet, but the time is near. As the prophecy says, when the daughter of winter marches south, the north will follow and the daughter of a king will sit upon the throne. It is clear that when we do march into war, we will be victorious!”

The leaders all stand up in a roar of approval. “For now, my friends, prepare yourselves for the inevitable war to come. Fill your racks with weapons, harden your warriors, and strengthen your resolve. The time to get our justice is nearly upon us. We will bring down the Tyrant Usurper, Vandil, and justice will be served.”

The men and women clap the table with their fists until Kveldulf’s table breaks in half. Laughter erupts from the others. The giant man shrugs.

Eawyn looks satisfied. “Now, if there are no further matters to discuss, we shall end the meeting and celebrate the beginning of the summer raids.”

No one objects. Eawyn spreads her hands. “Then it is settled. You are all welcome to feast, drink, and enjoy yourselves. However, there will be strict punishments for those who break the peace. There shall be no killing here. As long as you all understand that, there will be no problems. Drink up and enjoy yourselves. The meeting is over.” Slowly, the clans disperse from the hall back to their camps.

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Lura Syllana

I must start by saying the hard truth that was told to me by the Angel Akrasiel himself. The Guardian of the Light pulled me aside and told me this truth of reality and existence. Most of the gods of the other religions exist and are real. There is not just one god, but many. Some are benevolent and peaceful. They seek to protect and nourish. While others are malevolent and violent. They seek to corrupt, conquer, enslave, destroy and consume. They are the agents of chaos, destruction, and death. We must be wary of these gods, both benevolent and malevolent. Some pretend to be kind and compassionate but only seek to lie and deceive so they can cause more chaos. Others may destroy for the sake of the greater good, or at least what they perceive it to be. Some hope to bring peace through war while others speak of peace, but truly desire war. Sometimes it is hard to tell the difference between gods and monsters.

Akrasiel himself speaks of his own experiences dealing with gods of other religions and how he knows them to be of different cosmic energy from other universes. He speaks of his own alliances with the gods of Celestial and Arcane origins. He speaks of himself meeting gods of pure love and compassion who only seek to spread it. Gods unleash hope like a rain, watering the mortals of the worlds with renewed strength. Gods that inspire and ignite the hearts of mortals. He mentions relations between gods of the different religions and even offspring between gods of different religions.

But he also speaks of gods who seek only to conquer. Demons that desire all that exists. They rampage from world to world, enslaving mortals and destroying what is in order to form the lands in their image. They are greedy and desire only for more. Then there are those who only seek to snuff out the Light and leave existence in eternal darkness. They are the darkness and hate the Light. They feed on fear and extinguish love and all that shines under the Light. Some are gluttonous, with hunger and desire only to consume all that is. They will devour everything they see. And others burn with hate and anger. They only want to destroy and leave the universe with nothing but ruin. Others still seek utter chaos. They delight in anarchy and see mortals as instruments to incite violence, fear, paranoia, and hysteria, Corrupting the minds of mortals and causing them to go mad with delirium. They flood their minds with delusions and lies. They cause brothers to turn against brothers, mothers to turn against children, and husbands to turn on their wives. These gods are the enemy of the Light.

However, things are not so apparent. The face of dark may disguise itself with Light. Fear can look a lot like hope. Wrath can be seen as righteousness. Corruption and greed are presented as purity and generosity. Violence and war are used as excuses to bring peace. These are all lies. Lies only seek to keep the truth hidden in the dark. We can’t allow these lies to keep our eyes blinded by darkness. We must shine the Light down and see the truth hidden in the lies of the dark. Do not let yourself be deceived by the lies of the corrupted. Seek the Light of truth within the darkness of lies. Be the Light of the truth that shines through the darkness of lies.

 If that wasn’t bad enough, even Angels of the Light are not immune to corruption. There have been many angels who fell into darkness when their hearts became corrupted. To make matters more complicated, not all demons are evil either. Some are trapped in the dark and wish to live in the Light. Things aren’t always as they appear on the surface. Akrasiel himself has befriended demons before. Even speaks of one who walks the thin line between good and evil, rarely ever stepping into either.  

If your leaders preach about peace, prosperity, and justice and then proceed to bring war, hoard the wealth, and allow wrongs to go unpunished, then they speak lies and are agents of chaos. Do not trust words when actions don’t align. Never trust a person who makes empty promises without deliverance.

We must always be vigilant of the lies that seek to cover the truth in darkness. Let your Light shine, and speak the truths of your heart that you know to be right. Do not let the lies of the corrupted defile the innocent who seek the Light. Be a shield of truth and lead the innocent into the Light. Allow the truth to shine.

Words of the Angel Akrasiel.

I shut the book. I don’t know what to say or think. Do other gods exist? We were always told to believe that the god of the Light is the one true god and all the other so-called gods are false gods. But this… this speaks of the existence of other gods. Not only evil gods, but other benevolent gods. What am I supposed to do with this? Am I to continue following the Light? What about the gods our people used to follow? Are they real? Are they benevolent? He even mentioned that the Angel Akrasiel himself befriended those of the Arcane, which were the gods we followed before we came into the Light. Who do we trust when the dark disguises itself as the Light? I… I don’t know what is true and what is a lie anymore.

A knock at the door makes me jump. I quickly hide the book and answer it to find Ralodan. He smiles. “Ready for our first class as Accepted?”

I open the door and let him in, nodding. “Yes. It feels weird to wear these yellow robes. They feel a lot better than the brown ones of the Novices.”

He laughs. “Why would it feel weird? You’re Accepted. You earned the right to wear those robes.”

I shrug. “I don’t know. So… I started reading the first book.”

“And?” he asks.

“Everything we were made to believe is a lie!” I say.

“Perhaps. We were told that there is only one true god, but this book tells us differently. That statement of one true god is a matter of interpretation and perception. We follow the Light, that is our true god. To us, the Light is the one true god. However, to others, another god is the one true god, or there are many true gods. Certainly, something wrong is going on within the church; for them to claim that all other gods are false seems to certainly be a downright lie. I suppose that’s why these books were written. For those who seek the truth to stand unified and fight the lies,” he says with a shrug.

“How are you not shaken by any of this?” I ask.

Once again, he shrugs. “I guess, deep down, I knew the truth all along. I see it everywhere I look. Lies may try to hide the truth within the dark, but the truth is a light that could never be truly hidden by the darkness of lies. You just have to look deeper to see the Light of the truth. Then no lie will deceive you.”

“Light, you speak like you’ve written a few of these books yourself. So philosophical,” I say with a smile. He laughs hard and I can’t help but join in. “Thanks. I’m glad I have you and the others to talk to about everything with.”

“That’s why we’re here, trying to become servants of the Light. Helping people is the entire reason the Light exists. It’s the beacon that finds the lost. The star that guides the wanderer. The shield that protects the innocent,” he says, and his face so absolute.

“Spoken like a true priest of the Light,” I say, and that earns another chuckle.

“Come on, let’s not be late for our first class,” he says. I follow him out, and we join Biremeril and Melyis. We arrive at our first class. There are not as many people as there are in Novice classes. And this class is taught by a Sister. Sister Jereno welcomes us to the class. She’s a beautiful, amber-skinned woman with long, curly, brown hair and eyes as blue as a cloudless sky. She hands us each a book. However, unlike the Novice books, there are no notes within it. Just instructions about the spells we are to learn.

After she gets the rest of the class going, she addresses the four of us separately. “Welcome, newly Accepted. Within this class, you will learn the basics of channeling your energy and focusing it within the crystals you’ve been given. Because you are using magic, you will all be given learner’s permits to use magic by the Church. This allows you to channel magic within the confines of the church while being supervised. Magic can be quite dangerous, so we need to take these requirements seriously. It is quite easy to lose control when you are dealing with magic. And the consequences are dire. You could lose your own life or the lives of others. So, I plead with you to use caution when channeling magic, and use restraint.”

She looks at each of us to make sure her point is understood. “Now. Specifically, to gain level one, you must first learn how to channel your natural Arcane energy. You will produce a light. Once you’re able to do that, I’ll show you how to focus that energy within the crystal to purify it into Divine Light. Divine Light can heal, cleanse, purify, shield, and smite. But hopefully, you will never need to use that last one. Or any of them, for that matter. Magic isn’t a toy, it’s a tool we use to help those in need. Therefore, you may never use it as an aggressor to attack unless it is against enemies of the Light. That doesn’t mean you can’t use magic to defend yourself. That is perfectly fine. But you may not attack with it. We will always try to seek peace and provide service in healing. That is what it means to be a priest or priestess of the Light. To serve the Light is to serve the people.”

We all nod and listen. “Now, in order to channel your natural magic, you have to clear your mind of all distractions. In order to do that, you will want to master meditation. So, for your first lesson, you will meditate for a total of one hundred hours. Once you do that, we will move on to the next step.”

My jaw drops. One hundred hours of meditation? Is she serious? That’s… That’s absurd. She sees the look on our faces and smiles. “Don’t worry, once you start, it only takes a few tries before meditation becomes natural and peaceful. Soon, once you find that inner peace, that flow, you will seek it; mediation will become a part of your daily life. You just have to endure the awkward first attempts. Also, you can take breaks from mediation by reading your books. It’s always good to read how a thing is done before you try it yourself.”

Sister Jereno seems like a nice and reasonable person, but a hundred hours of meditation is so unnecessary. Though I suppose at least we don’t have to do a thousand hours of labor. That took over more than two cycles. Especially since we didn’t get serious about it until we reached level four.

Sister Jereno heads over to a special cupboard and brings back hourglasses for each of us. She smiles as she hands them to us. “These hourglasses will keep track of your hours. They are enchanted to only begin when you are in a meditative state and are connected to a bigger hourglass with a total sand of one hundred hours. These hourglasses are also enchanted to continuously keep track of your mediation and won’t stop when the hour is up. So, when the sand reaches one end, it flows up to the other side and will only stop once you leave your meditative state. They are extremely accurate and are unable to be cheated. Like the ones you were given for labor, you just have to place your finger on the top. Then it will activate once you begin to meditate. It can tell when you begin meditating; that means when you have entered the trance of meditation, not when you get into position. That means you won’t be able to sit there and pretend to meditate. Okay?” We all nod. She smiles. “Good, now you four are excused to go practice meditation or read your books. If you have any questions, feel free to come back and ask me.”

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Bothvar Beorcolsson

Lightning crashes down upon the ice-cold lands of the Frost Giants as I wield my mighty hammer, sending bolts of lightning out as I strike the frozen bastards. Falling them one by one as my kin and I wage war upon them. I paint the white, cold snow with the blood of giants…

I wake up in my bed. It was only a dream. Or was it more? Could that be a premonition? Are we to go to the lands of the Jotnar and fight them? If so, will I finally wield that hammer in the cave? I shake it off and get dressed.

Stormfront is no longer a village. It’s grown into a rather large settlement. A city if you want to call it that. Most of the repairs from the Jotnar invasion are all finished. The walls weren’t just built back; they were built back stronger. Tall with both a steel foundation and reinforced with the glow ore thanks to the dwarf siblings, Aldam and his sister whose name I forgot. Of course, Aldam mostly crafted parts for his pack mules to haul. When I say pack mules, I mean the people training in the mountains with him. While he was there, he built himself a blast furnace and made steel beams for the trainees he likes to call turd-lickers, arsefaces, goat-brained, and more.

Of course, he and his sister couldn’t agree on anything, and I’m surprised the wall got built at all with those two bickering every time Aldam went into town. But thanks to Aethelwin of the Builder Clan, the walls did get built. He was able to implement the ideas of the two dwarves to build a wall that was stronger than anything we had before. It’s taller than the trees with mounted ballistae and slings for hurling bags of greasy lards and fat. There are also cook pots full of oil.

I check upon Osvald and Gyda. They’ve made some good progress. Periodically during our training, I had those strong enough to bring the boat builder weapons and armor we’ve crafted with the glow ore to help him test his ships with it. As I come to inspect his work, I am astonished at what he has created. I find him sailing down the bay with a ship as big as the elves make. I spot the slings I requested mounted in between the ballistae. Unlike our older ships, these have five mounted weapons on each side. Two ballistae and three slings. The boat builder spots me and waves at me. “Bothvar, my friend! I did it. I have solved your problem.”

He steers the ship towards the docks. Men at the docks, help him. He sets down the plank and I walk up his massive ship. “I designed it like that of the elven and merchant ships you’ve brought back to me. I added two more masts to capture more wind and make it faster. There’s an added deck, and I created a captain’s quarters. But to answer your problem, I made several different modifications. The boat is wider. The hull is deeper. So, you’ll have to avoid more shallow waters. You can put the bulk of your weight at the bottom of the ship and keep it in the middle so the weight is centered. The hull itself has two layers. The outside and a gap that is full of air to give it more… What some call buoyancy. It’ll float better and this will help protect against attacks on the hull. So, if they damage the outer layer and the water gets into the gap, all is not lost, but you will have to reduce your weight. Significantly. Another addition I made is up here on the quarterdeck I added. It has this wheel that they have on the elven and merchant ships that controls the rudder, so you no longer need a steering paddle. You still have a deck dedicated to rowers on the second deck. The lowest deck is for storage, and I’ve added a compartment for captured slaves that will reduce your loss due to the strain on them caused by the old ship design. I’ve put on little bulges to the exterior to add more gaps of air to make the ship more buoyant to fight the weight. And of course, I added your sling and tested it to make sure it’ll fire your lard sacks, and it works quite well. I’ve also added a private quarter for the Skipper.”

Gyda comes up smiling from ear to ear, holding something behind her back. “Boy, do I have a present for you, Bothvar. I think you’ll like it.”

“What is that?” I ask curiously.

She pulls out a large metal ball with what looks like a candle wick sticking out. “I call it my boom ball. You can fire these from the slings as well.”

“What does it do?” I ask.

She smiles even wider. A rather sadistic smile. She takes a medium size stick with some kind of red thing on the end. Then strikes it against a coarse material sewed into her breeches. A flame ignites on the stick. She then brings the flame to the little wick, and it sparks before she quickly throws it out into the bay.

She turns away, holding her ears. I barely manage to block my own ears before an enormous boom shakes the boat as the little ball explodes into fire in the air, spraying the water with chunks of metal. The boom was ear piercing. My eyes go wide. “Was that magic?”

She laughs. “No, silly. I discovered by mixing certain ingredients, it produces a powder that when touched with flame will make a big loud bang! Unfortunately, I have little of either ingredient. So, I could only make seven of the boom balls. I have a list of what I need to make the balls. If you get me the ingredients, I’ll make as many as I can.”

She hands me a list and I take it, nodding. “I’ll do my best to find these ingredients. These could prove to be a significant advantage. Thank you. My clan is in both of your debts.”

“There is one thing we’d like,” Osvald says.

“Name it,” I say.

“If you ever sail west. We’d like to join you. We heard stories of strange ships these pirates sail with, and I’d love to look at them.”

“I also heard they have a boom cannon. That sounds right up my boat. I think they use the same powder to shoot these metal balls out of a metal canon, but I won’t know for sure until I see one for myself,” she says, pulling on the blue braid of her hair. “I also have another idea I’m working on. A canon that spits fire like a dragon. It’s still a work in progress, but I was thinking of using a strong rum and spraying it through a flame to make a big burst of fire.”

I smile widely. “Yes, I could definitely make use of such a weapon. You two are extremely wise. I am grateful for your help.”

—

As we make our last-minute preparations to set out to Avala village, most of those who trained in the mountains are wielding the weapons of the glow ore and some even have armor as well. They were able to progress quickly. Much faster with the help of Aldam than I did by myself. I too gained a little more strength and speed with all the blacksmithing I did, making more tools and weapons with the ore.

Now that spring is all but over, we head to the All-Clan meeting at Avala village, which has become known as Winter’s Edge. The home village of the widow and brother of the late King Teowulf. Our once great leader of a unified Northern army. We’ve packed supplies to stay the night for the meeting of clans. Oddly enough, I felt an urge to bring Longhorn’s horn I saved. I have turned it into a horn of warning. It felt right. This way, Longhorn can forever be heard; his voice will be that of warning and protection towards others. I now keep it on me at all times.

Most at our village are welcome to come and this meeting only happens once a cycle at the end of spring. I went to a few here and there growing up, but none recently.

The only people who stay behind are some of the elderly who can’t make the trip and the people father assigns to watch over the town. The rest board the ships to sail down on the brief journey to the Ice Clan’s village.

Our crew all boards the new massive ship made by the Builders. There’s more than enough room for all the supplies, slaves, crew, and the crew’s family on this massive ship. The crew themselves are impressed as they take time to explore the entire ship. They’re quite happy with it. But they’re still a bit uneasy around me. I can feel the tension every time I’m around 

Thora is extremely excited to go and will not stop talking about it. Thormar, Bodvar, and Svala only encourage her with stories of the last time they went with father.

She asks enough questions to drive me crazy. I walk up to the quarterdeck where Father is with Grimwald Hialtisson, Gudleif Grimwaldson, Rognvald Holmgavtsson, and Sigvid Varinsson. The men all marvel at the ship.

“Who’d have thought we’d be sailing in a ship that is a longhouse in and of itself,” Rognvald says.

“It is a fine ship,” Sigvid says as he looks out at it. “If only Varin could be here to see it. The old man would’ve fallen in love with it.”

My father’s face tenses up and I know what he is thinking. Thorkel would love to man a ship like this. Rognvald looks up at me as I join them. “Ahh, Bothvar. It is said we have you to thank for talking Osvald into building such a ship.”

“I didn’t say much, just told him we had to adjust for the weight of the new metal, and I suggested slings to launch sacks of flaming lard at the other ships.”

“All excellent suggestions,” Grimwald says as we depart the bay and sail down the coast.

As we sail out, Rognvald finds me and pulls me aside. “Look, Bothvar… I feel now that you’re back and will be taking up the captain spot, as you should, I should address some issues with the crew.”

I nod. “I understand their… Doubts. I abandoned them when they needed me most.”

Rognvald puts a hand on my shoulder. “Only a few still hold that view, but they hold onto it tightly. However, most of us agree with Gunnstein. We know you always do what you think is best. We all trust you and we’ll follow you.”

I nod in appreciation. “Thank you. You’ve always been a good friend and an invaluable shipmate. I feel far more confident with you with us.”

He smiles and nods.

The ship is swift, just as Osvald said. The added masts make it sail at faster speeds. Of course, it takes more men to maintain the sails and to row too.

We reach Avala Village in no time. The village is already crowded with other tribes. The slaves unload the ship as we make our way to the heart of the village. My Aunt Sigvor is with her slaves – two elven men, both with bright blue eyes and one younger than the other – and three elven women. I recognize them. The old man and the younger woman are the two I purchased the last time I was here as a boy with Thorkel. The younger man and the two other women are the slaves my father brought back when Arngunn’s parents died. I remember their names. Valindra is the one who thanked me for purchasing the other two. She is with that younger elf man, Lethvelion. I think my aunt let them get married or something. He used to have such a defiant stare, but now he seems…. Almost happy, I think. The other woman is Renna and the older elven man is Larongar. I don’t think I ever learned the name of the younger elf woman I purchased. She tends to look at me with kind eyes every now and again.

Lethvelion’s eyes meet mine and he holds my stare. There is something about that elf that makes me think he’d be useful. I bet he knows his way with a sword. Thormar’s suggestion comes to my mind. About using magic users to raid. Perhaps we could use them. But how could we trust an elf? Especially one like him. There’s something in his eyes that tells me he’s a cunning one.

The gambling elf named Olaurae helps my mother. I like that elf, as hard as it is for me to admit. He taught me and my siblings many games. Even Bodvar, who used to pick on him, has taken a liking to him. I’ve seen all three of my younger siblings sitting with him, playing games all winter long. I think he still cheats, but he does it in a way to let them win. That’s why they love playing because they win a lot. Not enough to make it boring, but enough to enjoy it. Of course, they don’t realize this; they think they’re just good at it. Thormar, I suspect, sees through it, but enjoys it nonetheless. Especially since the old man lets him win a lot more often than the other two. 

I growl out as pain shoots up from my thigh as someone punches it. I look down to see Thora. “Are you listening?”

She’s far stronger than the little girl I once knew. What should I expect from the training she went through? That punch was like a hammer blow. “Of course, I’m listening. What did you say?”

“Obviously, you weren’t or you would have heard me!” she says, crossing her arms against her chest and glaring at me. “Hilde, Bolla, and Asvor just got off uncle Koll’s ship. Can I go play with them?”

I nod. “Just stay out of trouble.”

“I’ll go with her,” Svala says with a sigh. When did she become so grown up? She’s nearly an adult.

Thormar and Bodvar walk up with Thormar’s elven slave following. Both of them seem so different. Thormar is now a man, and Bodvar isn’t far behind. Just a little younger than Svala. My siblings remind me so much of Thorkel and me. “Brother. Father said we can join the meeting of the clan leaders.”

“What all happens in one of these meetings?” Bodvar asks.

“Just a lot of talk about trade, raiding, and food. Mostly arguing between Father and the Wolf Clan, and Kveldulf of the Giant Clan loves to join in on the arguments.”

“Giants? Like the ones who attacked us?” Bodvar asks.

“No, not nearly as tall. They’re much taller than most, but a little over half the size of those Giants from Jotunheim. The ones we call the Jotnar,” I tell them.

“What about the women of the Valkyrie?” Bodvar asks with a sly smile.

“Be careful around them, little brother. Beautiful they may be, they’re also deadly,” I say with a laugh.

“That we are,” a familiar voice says from behind. I turn to find Amalasontha with Amalgunda and their clan. “Bothvar, it is good to see you. You are collecting quite the titles, Bone Breaker, Shadow Killer, Friend of the Yeti, and now Giant Slayer.”

I shrug. “Those titles make a storm out of a raindrop. I did not do any of those alone, as you’re quite aware of, and they all exacted too high of a cost.”

“At least they didn’t inflate your head,” she says with a smile. Then she steps forward and embraces me. I return it in kind.

We break apart and meet each other’s eyes with smiles. “I hear that repairs in the village are nearly complete. I can now see your walls from across the bay. We will have to get the Builders over to Forsa so we are not in your shadow.”

“I would suggest talking with the dwarves before you proceed. There’s a metal in the mountains that not even the giants can break,” I say.

“Then we shall take your advice,” she says as my father, mother, and Sigvor walk up.

“Amalasontha and Amalgunda. It is a pleasure to see you both. Is the mother here as well?” mother asks.

“No, unfortunately, she decided to stay this time,” Amalgunda says as they all shake hands. “I would like to talk about a way to provide quick aid to each other’s defenses in the event the Jotnar return. We regret not being swift enough to help with the fighting.”

“Do not make regrets. You were plenty helpful with healing our people. We still consider ourselves in your debt,” mother says.

“But it would be wise to talk about a way to aid each other against invasions or raids,” father says with a nod.

“It is something I’d like to bring up in a meeting with the clan leaders. We could all benefit from a way to quickly come to each other’s aid during times of war,” Amalasontha says, brushing a line of her whitening golden hair out of her face. She stands just as tall as my father. She’s every bit a warrior I’ve come to honor.

Loud thumping is heard as a man as tall as two men walk over. If I had not fought the Jotnar, I’d think he is a giant, but now it just seems he’s just a really tall man. His beard is nearly as long as Bodvar is tall. “Aye, is that you, Beorcol, the Rider of Storms?”

My father steps up to the half-giant. “It is, Kveldulf, Wall Breaker.”

“It is good to see you again. It has been far too long. I long to fight once more by your side. And is this Amalasontha, Wind Stalker? It is, isn’t it? You all seem to have changed since we last met,” he says as he strokes his long black and gray peppered beard.

“I will never forget our victory in taking back Chillshore. You came soaring down from the mountains like an eagle with wings, little Valkyrie. And you, Rider of the Storm. It was as if the storm itself followed your ships into battle as you stormed the harbor. What a glorious battle it was,” the giant man says, clenching his fist in the air.

“It was indeed,” my father says.

“We gained much honor in that battle,” Amalasontha says. She gives him a wry smile.

“Aye, I’d welcome another war with the Southerners. The Tyrant King Vandil needs to pay for what he did to our King Teowulf. We should break him and his armies to pieces.”

“Perhaps,” father says, combing his fingers through his beard. “But the Southerners are not our only threats. We’ve been raided by the Jotnar Giants of Jotunheim. They’re a force to be reckoned with and are taller than you, my friend. They’re the height of these trees.”

“We will fight them as well. They might be taller, but we are fiercer,” Kveldulf says, beating his chest. “I’d love to test my strength against these invaders. They might be our distant relatives, but we are not the same. They have no honor.”

“For now, I believe they’ve only sent out raids. But I do believe they will return,” father says.

“I hope they do. I would like to face these so-called giants in battle and see who is the real giant,” he says.

“Be careful what you wish for, my friend,” Amalasontha says, eyeing the big, tall, mountain of a man. “You may get exactly that.”

My father grows silent as his eyes narrow. I follow his gaze to find the Wolf Clan arriving.

“Earl, Bjarni Vikarsson, it is always a pleasure,” Amalgunda says, stepping up to shake the elderly man’s hand, followed by Amalasontha.

“Likewise,” the bear of an old man says.

“Is it, though?” father asks.

“Maybe for some of us,” the old bear of a man says. His tall son is behind him, along with his daughter and both of their grandchildren. A tall, black-haired man with a look of steel and a red-haired woman with eyes of iron stand behind with expressions of ice. They could only be Baldric and Siv. The twin Wolves. The red and the night wolf. Next to them are two giant dire wolves. One with red auburn fur stands next to Siv, and the other with a midnight shade of black fur standing next to Baldric. Baldric wears a beard just as black as his hair that seems to match that of his wolf, while his sister wears hair like fire that is a bit brighter than her wolf. Their cousins stand next to them. Thorgrim, the oldest one with his wife. Asa, his younger sister. Thorhall and his wife. And lastly, Dalla and Gadaric, the two youngest of Vidkunn’s children.

“I don’t think it could ever be a pleasure for either of us,” father says with a bitter stain in his words.

“Only because the Krakens think they’re above the rest!” Vidkunn snaps.

“We don’t need to think about it. The Wolves were the ones who left. They’re the ones who continue to attack us out of fear. We only defend ourselves,” father says.

“Oh, that is a load of goat shit,” Bjarni says.

“You two tribes are like children fighting over a new shiny toy,” Amalgunda says.

“You should fight and get it over with,” the giant man says.

“We wouldn’t want to kill them before the meeting even starts,” Vidkunn says.

Father laughs. “We just got done killing Jotnar. What have you all done?”

Vidkunn huffs. “Bold words, but I’d bet on a Wolf ax over a Kraken’s poor excuse for a sword, any day. Besides, you’re not the only one who fought Jotnar. We also defeated the walking dead!“

Beorcol laughs. “Good tales by a Wolf. Always creating fantasy stories.”

Vidkunn growls, taking a step forward. “Want to prove those words, Kraken scum?”

“Vidkunn, now is not the time,” the old bear of a man who is the Wolf Clan’s Earl says.

“Father, this man insults us every time he steps in our presence. I should decorate the ground in his blood,” Vidkunn says with a growl.

My father laughs. “The only thing you’d decorate is my blade with your innards.”

“That’s enough. I’ll end you!” Vidkunn says, drawing his ax.

“Uncle, it is clear he is goading you, blinding you with anger so you fight him in a haze of rage and make mistakes. Do not be a fool,” the night Wolf says as he steps forward. He and his sister seem more dangerous than the rest. Oddly enough, they are also the most reasonable. I can hear their heartbeats distinctly from the rest. A slow drum compared to the fast angry beat Bjarni and Vidkunn have. These two are worthy adversaries and shouldn’t be taken lightly.

Vidkunn sniffs. “I’d rather form a square now and see whose words prove to have more truth to them.”

“Then let’s form the square, dog,” father says with a smirk. The Wolf Clan and Kraken Clan members force everyone back around the two men.

“Father, killing this man would not further our purpose or do us any favors. We’d only serve our real enemies by weakening each other,” I say.

“Are you going to hide behind your little pup?” Vidkunn asks.

Father only laughs. “You should be grateful to him. He was trying to spare your life.”

“Do you both seek death so desperately that you’ll meet it at the blade of a fellow Northerner?” A feminine voice says as a woman with snow white hair and eyes the color of blue ice steps into the square. Whispers wash upon the men and women. She has the hair of an elder, but her skin has the youth of a youngling. However, she stands with all the wisdom and confidence you can only have with age.

All the clan leaders, including my father and the Wolf Clan’s Earl, bow their heads to the woman. My father steps forward. “Lady Eawyn, it is an honor, as always.”

“Our honor is greater, Lady Eawyn,” Bjarni says. “We are always grateful for your wisdom.”

“It is always good to see you again, Earl Beorcol. And you, Earl Bjarni. And it is so good to see my good friends, Chieftesses Amalasontha and Amalgunda as well, and the Chief Kveldulf. All of you have been such loyal friends. I hate seeing such foolishness among people I am close to,” she says, as a woman a little younger than myself, who shares her snow-white hair and ice-cold blue eyes, steps up… “I also find it humorous that the sons seem to have more wisdom than the fathers. If anything, else, the future seems bright if we can only survive the foolishness of the current leaders.”

Both my father and the two Wolves seem to look away in shame, which is a first. Outside of my mother, I thought no one could make my father look like a scolded child. My father clamps his fist against his chest. “You are right. As always, your wisdom is much needed. Teowulf was wise to listen to you. May he feast in Valholl.”

“For once, we agree,” Bjarni says, throwing a tight-lipped, narrow-eyed glance at Beorcol before looking up at Eawyn with reverence. “You are the rightful Queen of this land and we will always come when you decide to take up the call once more.”

She bows her head to us all. “I am no longer queen, and nor will I ever be again. That time has passed. Besides, the prophecy does not speak of me, but of my daughter. That I am certain of. All I ask of you all is that when the time comes and she is ready to take the throne, you will follow her like you followed her father. Show her the same loyalty and respect you showed my beloved Teowulf and myself.”

“Without question. When the daughter of winter marches south, the Kraken Clan will follow,” my father says, dropping to one knee as I do the same along with our clan members.

The Valkyrie follow my father’s lead and drop to their knees. “As do the Valkyrie Clan.”

The Wolves, not wanting to be outdone, all drop to their knee before the white-haired girl. “The Wolves will always be loyal to the rightful Queen. The Queen of the North.”

Even the giant bends his knee. “As do the Giant Clan of the Mountain.”

All knees bend to a girl no older than me. Her face is stern and hard. She narrows her eyes at us all before she turns her back and walks away. Eawyn sighs, rubbing her head. “She is still young and bitter about her father’s death.”

“That is understandable. We are all still bitter about the death of our King,” father says, standing along with the rest of us. “But when she is ready, we will be too.”

“As we all will be,” Amalasontha says.

“She will be ready when the time comes. I have foreseen it,” Eawyn says.

“If I am not too bold, Lady Eawyn, perhaps it would be advantageous if she married a strong man to aid her in her journey,” my father says.

“I suppose you know exactly who she should wed?” Eawyn asks, with an amused smile. “I suppose, you’d claim your son Bothvar is such a man?”

“I can honestly say you’ll find no one more worthy,” my father says. Even though my chest swells with pride, there is no way I’d marry this woman or anyone else. My heart is no longer within my chest to give. It died with my beloved Arngunn, and now it is in her hands in the halls of the gods.

“I would argue differently,” Bjarni says, stepping forward. “My grandsons are twice the man that any Kraken whelp could be. Gadaric is too young, but Baldric has already proven himself a warrior second to none.”

Eawyn clasps her delicate chin and takes both me and the night Wolf in. “Yes, both Baldric and Bothvar would make worthy husbands. I’ve heard of both of your deeds. One who leads the Wolves and the other who is friends of the yeti. My daughter would be a lucky woman to marry either of them. However, she is to make her own choice about who she will make King to rule by her side. I have foreseen it. The man she will marry will not only be a long-lost kin, but an enemy as well. She will break the walls that separate us and unite us all under one hall. The north and the south will be one under a king and queen who come from the same kingdom, but fight for different people. That is what I have seen.”

“Then we will honor your wisdom,” my father says, clasping his hand to his chest and bowing his head. The rest agree. “Good. now why don’t you all settle in and make camp before our leaders meet to talk about the wellbeing of our people,” she says and walks away. We all go our separate ways and make camp.

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Lura Syllana

As tomorrow comes, the four of us meet up and all exchange nods. No one speaks as we are all nervous. Everyone except for Ralodan. He’s his usual calm, confident self. I envy that aspect of him. I wish I could remain calm and confident.

We head in to meet with Illianaro to tell him we are ready to take the final test. He nods and has us follow him as we are brought to a separate part of the church. Illianaro talks with a Sister named Lynfeah who takes us into another classroom. There we are given parchment, quills, and ink along with a scroll with questions on it. The questions seem random and ask about the concepts we learn in the books. Everything from the sins, to the words of Akrasiel and more. It takes us at least several hours to finish them all. There are over three hundred questions and we have to write out each answer. However, for the most part, I feel confident in my answers. Ralodan finishes first, then myself, and then Melyis, with Biremeril finishing last. I’m sure he had to go over each question three or four times and then write and rewrite his answer three or four times also. He’s not very confident in himself and ever since he read that book, he’s been even more hesitant about everything. He even looks at nobles differently.

Once we finish and hand our tests in, we have to wait for them to be graded. Fortunately, it’s all done with magic, and it takes hardly a moment to get our results back. We were all present when Sister Lynfeah brings the news. She looks solemn and reserved. Her dark complexion remains without a slick of sweat even though the four of us aside from Ralodan are drenched in it. Did we all pass?

Suddenly, her straight expression curves into a smile. “Congratulations, you have all passed! You’re now Accepted! Now come with me. The High Mother and High Father will want to meet you and give you congratulations.”

We follow behind her as my heart pumps at the prospect of being introduced to both the High Father and High Mother. On one hand, I’m super excited to meet the High Mother, even though I probably won’t be able to ask the thousands of questions I have in my head. On the other hand, I’m nervous and completely afraid of the High Father. I don’t trust him.

We are brought up the stairs to the highest level, where the quarters of both of the highest reside. As we reach the top level, we are brought to a chamber where the Mothers and Fathers meet. Inside, all the Mothers and Fathers, including the highest, sit within a meeting. “You’re holiest. I have brought four more Novices who are ready to ascend to Accepted.”

“Ahh, bring them in,” that rich and fiery voice says. That voice that could only belong to one man. We follow the Sister inside and are brought within the middle of the room where the High Father and High Mother sit before us. The High Father is on the right and the High Mother on the left. To the right of the High Father are all the Fathers of the church, and to the left of the High Mother are all the Mothers of the church.

“Welcome children; today you should be proud of all your hard work, but do not let that pride go to your heads,” the High Mother says with a smile. Her golden-blonde hair lays down upon her shoulders and it’s as if it shines within the Light itself. She wears a simple, white gown with a golden shall and her hat is also simple and white with gold trim. “However, I will say that I too am proud of you all.”

She seems to stare right at Ralodan as she says this. Something really pulls at me and I feel like I should see it, but for some odd reason, I can’t quite figure it out. There is something about Ralodan. He’s different from the rest of us and that should’ve been clear during the High Father’s sermon, but what does it mean?

What if… No, I don’t think that’s what it is.

Both the High Father and the High Mother get up from their seats and come to greet each of us personally, followed by the other Mothers and Fathers. The High Father leads and shakes our hands. When he gets to me, he pauses as he grabs my hand, sending a cold chill up my spine and making my skin crawl. He stares at my face for quite some time. “Have we met before?”

I shake my head no and the words get caught in my throat. He nods and then moves on. The High Mother, on the other hand, melts the chill across my skin with her warm and compassionate smile. “I see Damaris has yet again brought us blessings within you four. She knows how to find diamonds within our impoverished streets.”

Her warmth seems to spread inside me, making me smile. I nod, and once again the words get stuck in my throat. This time for different reasons. Behind her are the Fathers and Mothers, alternating between the two. Anfather is first, and he has such a presence. So confident. His smile seems to illuminate the room. “Welcome child, you have taken your first step to the Light.”

Next is Vedana Oddheart and my heart leaps into my chest. She’s Damaris’ mentor! She smiles at me with such heartwarming compassion. Even her hand, like the High Mother’s, seems to spread warmth through me into my heart. “Welcome child. You are blessed, and I look forward to seeing where the Light leads you.”

She leans in and whispers in my ear. “Blessed you, of the Syllana line. You will bring the Light’s redemption upon your family’s name.”

My eyes go wide as I look up into her eyes. She knows? She smiles and winks at me before releasing my hand and moving on.

Selvelion Duskwood shakes my hand after with a curt nod and moves on, followed by Nostra Longswitch who is absolutely beautiful with her long black hair. She smiles brightly as she shakes my hand and she, too, gives me a wink.

After her, a man named Colvardonn shakes my hand, followed by a woman named Kynice Radiantshield, then Riluaneth Waeszeiros, another author. Behind him is Aule Brasstruth. She looks down her nose at me. Less pleased, I’m sure. She’s followed by a man named Fylson Greran. His grip is a bit cold, and his eyes seem to be steel. He gives a brief smile before moving on. My heart stills as Chaetris Rapidbirth clenches my hand with a tight grip as if she’s trying to squeeze the life out of it. Her forced smile is dominated by eyes that obviously show her displeasure as they somehow look down over her little piggy-like nose at me even though she’s shorter than me. The stout woman doesn’t give me another thought as she moves on.

Lastly, Amaranthae follows. She smiles, and it seems sincere, but there’s a hardness to her. I can tell she has an unbreakable will. Her grip is stern, but not crushing. She’s confident, but not arrogant. “I look forward to seeing what the Light brings of you.”

“Thank you,” I say, receiving a quick nod before she moves on.

“Now, you’re officially Accepted,” the High Mother says to us with such a warm and welcoming smile. “Now, go forward and learn how to let the Light shine through you. Follow Sister Lynfeah out to receive your new robes and your crystals.”

We all bow and curtsey before being led out to find Sister Damaris waiting outside. She smiles widely and hugs each of us. “I’m so proud of each of you. You have all done well. I came as soon as I heard.”

We all thank her profusely. Sister Lynfeah gives Sister Damaris a nod and a welcoming smile. “I’ll let you follow Sister Lynfeah to get your things, and then you’ll get to move into your new rooms. We can talk later.”

We all nod and follow Sister Lynfeah out. She brings us down to where we first got our brown robes and we’re handed yellow robes in exchange. Then we’re each given a crystal pendant to wear around our necks. I’m excited because I’ve read that this is how we can harness the Divine Light, purifying the Arcane within us so we can heal, purify, and cleanse others.

Afterward, we all go back to our rooms and pack our things. Melyis has tears in her eyes as she packs. “Everything okay?”

She looks at me as she wipes them from her cheeks. “I know our stay with each other was short, but I’m going to miss you.”

“Aww, don’t worry, Melyis. We’ll only be down the hall from each other. You can always come to my room for anything, and I know I’ll be hanging around your room a lot. We’ll still be study buddies – you, me, Ralodan, and Biremeril. Only a few things will change,” I say.

She nods, and I pull her in for a hug.

She nods with a smile, wiping her tears away. We finish packing and haul our stuff to our new rooms. Thankfully, Melyis and I get to move right next to Chalia, Ochilysse, and Charinva. Of course, Charinva has already moved up the ranks to level three, with Chalia not far behind.

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Bothvar Beorcolsson

Before we get ready to head out to the All-Clan Meeting, my father calls a meeting with the steersman and Skippers, or captains as we’ve come to call them, including myself and Thormar since I will be the captain of my father’s ship. They’ve managed to convince me to take up the position of Captain.

Thormar and I head into the hall while Bodvar heads off to his room, grumbling all the way. Several of the ship captains and steersmen are here already. Koll Alriksson with his second wife, my aunt Ingithora. Einar Alriksson with his second in command, his son Vog Einarson, Brynhild Svarkollrdottir, a woman with blond hair who fights like an eagle and is now a captain along with her son Thorvir, Rodmar Asulfsson who was Throst’s second in command and is now a captain as well. Lastly, Throst Thorhallson with his new second in command, Gamal Ornolfsson. They talk with my father and all nod as Thormar and I enter.

I take the seat to my father’s left and Thormar stands behind me.

Einar sighs. “My nephew has requested to join me this raiding season.”

“I see no problem with that,” my father says.

“He is weak. The boy can’t even stomach the sight of blood without fainting. He is no Viking, that is for sure,” Einar says with clear disdain.

“Oh, come on, Brother. Give the boy a chance. He is our sister’s son after all. May she feast with Fridgerd. He just needs to get his sword wet,” Koll says.

“Then you take him on your ship,” Einar says.

“I barely have enough room for my own children,” Koll says.

Ingithora sighs. “That’s the truth.”

“Sure… You just don’t want to carry dead weight. Trandil is utterly useless. He should’ve died in the womb to save our sister from death. She was a warrior. He’s just an utter coward,” Einar says. I know it must be hard for him to accept the boy seeing how he blames him for his sister’s death, but he doesn’t seem to give the boy a chance. Thormar seems to tense up, gritting his teeth.

“I think you should at least give him a chance. Who knows, maybe he will be the one thing you need in a moment you don’t expect. But you never know if you don’t give him a chance to prove himself. Besides, it is partially your own fault for his weakness. You didn’t even bring him to the mountains to train,” I say.

That did not make Einar happy, but it is true. My father interjects. “My son is right. Bring the boy. If he dies, he dies, but at least he has the choice and the opportunity.”

“Fine,” Einar says, grumbling under his breath. Koll and Einar may be twins, but they are nothing alike. Koll is always calm and collected, while Einar is always angry. Einar is more like a grease fire with water poured on top, while Koll is like a hot but simmering coal fire.

More Steersmen and Captains enter. Among them are Kodran Tjorvisson, Sibbi Hreitharrsson, Vebrand Haraldsson, and Thrain Haklangsson with Grom. To my surprise, Grom takes a seat next to Thrain. His eyes burn as they see me, but he holds his tongue.

Slowly, the rest of the Steersman and Skippers trickle in and my father begins the meeting. “I’ll try to keep things brief seeing how we all have much to do before the All-Clan meeting and we go off raiding. If no one objects, we shall maintain the same raid plans as last raiding season.”

“I object,” Thrain says.

My father clenches his jaw. “And what exactly do you object to?”

He stands up. “My crew and I, along with the rest of our raiding party, are sick and tired of getting the leftovers of those you favor. It is bad enough you let your son get to take the best route even though he has no experience being a captain. We will not stand any longer. We will not accept scraps.”

Father leans in and meets Thrain’s eyes. “Why do you think you deserve any more than I’ve given you?”

Thrain spits and sputters, but no words come out. Father smirks and looks around at the others. “Shall we vote?”

The others nod, and the vote begins as the others get up and place their votes. It’s overwhelmingly for keeping the raid plans the same as last cycle. “Then let it be. The raiding shall remain the same. Is there anything else?”

The silence in the room is answer enough. “Then the meeting is adjourned. Meet with your raid parties and crew, prepare your ships, and head out when you feel ready after the All-Clan Meeting. You’re all dismissed.”

The men and the few women trickle out, with only my father, my brother, and I behind.

We wait as my father gives word to send for my crew.

Before long, they all trickle in. It’s hard to believe I am now the Captain of Thorkel’s ship. After Arngunn and my son died I thought I’d never sail out to sea again, but my father was right. I have to in order to make sure our people do not starve in winter. I’ll do whatever I have to in order to make sure our people are safe and provided for. Especially my family and the people I care about. As Amalasontha taught me, duty is the most important thing. My duty to my family and my people must come above all else. Through duty and service, I will earn my honor, and, hopefully, I will earn my place in Valholl next to Thorkel and be reunited with my wife and son.

I meet my crew with my father and Thormar as they all come in and take a seat. They all seem to treat Thormar like a little brother, joking with him and acknowledging him. He takes it rather well, but still fights smiling. Most seem to either ignore me or steal glances in my direction. I remain seated next to my father with Thormar taking the seat to my right. Skardi, Griotgard, and Solmund trade nods with me. I get along with the crew rather well. They all see me as one of their own and we all went through the worst of it together, but I feel like I have yet to prove myself, especially now as a Captain. I also feel as if I abandoned them after Thorkel’s death even though most don’t see it that way. Either way, they’re all respectable men and women.

“Bothvar, why don’t you lead this meeting? You are the Skipper now,” father says. I nod.

“Oh, finally decided to join us, huh?” Thialfi asks with a flat face.

“Thialfi, shut your trap or I’ll shut it for you,” Gunnstein says.

“He’s right. I’m sure many of you feel like I abandoned you…” I say, meeting their eyes.

“We understand. Losing Thorkel hit us all, and then to lose your wife and son on top of it. It’s more than any man can take,” Rognvald says with an empathetic nod.

I place my hands on the table and stand up before them. “It’s no excuse. I took leave of my duty to you, my family and our people, and for that, I am sorry.”

The crew exchange looks and all nod. Gunnstein meets my eyes. “You don’t need to apologize, thanks to you, we’re all much stronger and without you, those giants would’ve killed off most of us. Not only that. But you saved many of our lives and our loved ones when you came back from the mountains with those mushrooms. We all owe you. You deserved a few cycles to yourself, besides, we all understand. You did it for Thorkel. A man we all owe our lives to. Along with Varin Hialtisson, and the brothers Styrkar and Saksis Hreinsson. Without their sacrifice, the elves would’ve taken many more of our crew.”

Gunnstein turns to the rest of the crew, specifically his younger brother Thialfi. “If any of you lot have a problem with that, then you can take it up with me.”

I give Gunnstein a nod of appreciation. My father clears his throat. “Well, now that that’s settled, let’s discuss the raiding, shall we?”

The crew all nod and relax a bit.

I clear my own throat and sit back down. “Well, as was talked about in the other meeting with the captains, we are to head down the same course as the last few times. We’ll head south along the Western coastline of the elves with Koll, Throst, and Einar’s ships, not straying too close, and take on any merchant ships we find. Any questions?”

“Blunt and to the point, Bothvar. Some things never change!” Griotgard laughs. The others join in.

“What’s wrong with that?” Gudleif asks. He’s a tall brute of a man with a bald, shiny head and a graying goatee and mustache. “Wish all bastards were as blunt as him. I hate when people speak without saying anything. Just get to the damn point.”

“I agree. Never trust anyone who talks too much or speaks in riddles,” Gizor says, combing his bright red beard. He’s just as tall as Gudleif. Most of the crew have started to get that graying skin from the mushrooms and ore water, and all seem to have gained a sizable bulk of strength.

“Men,” Audbjorg, Gudlief’s wife and Gizor’s sister, says with a sigh. “If you knew how to use your words properly, we wouldn’t have half the wars in history.”

“What’s wrong with war?” her husband asks. “A good war weeds out the weak.”

“Da, seriously?” his daughter, Turid, asks. She has her mother’s red hair but is every bit as blunt as her father. She’s also as much of a warrior as both of them. “War isn’t something to seek.”

“What’s wrong with a good fight?” Gizor asks as he focuses on his hair now.

“Enough, banter. Let us get back to the topic at hand,” I say with a sigh. “Does anyone have anything to add?”

“I hope we get a merchant ship with that wine those Southerners make. It’s delicious,” Thialfi says, licking his lips. “I’m definitely taking a barrel for myself.”

“If you do, you’re sharing it with the rest of us,” Thialfi’s older brother Skarf says.

“Like hell I am,” Thialfi says. “Get your own barrel.”

“Is there anything more on the raid itself?” I ask.

“When do we head out?” Rognvald asks.

“As dawn arrives on the second day after we get back from the All-Clan Meeting. We’ll sail out tomorrow for the meeting, remain there for the night, and come back in the morning like usual. You’ll have the rest of the day and another full day to get your shit together, then we sail out the morning after,” I say. The men all nod.

“So, you’re saying we get a full day to recover from the festivities?” Thialfi says as he runs his hand through his short, blond hair with a turd-eating grin. Thialfi often comes off as a drunken, gambling fool who puts too much effort into getting out of work. But he’s a good fighter and smarter than he looks. I also trust him with my life. Even though he goes overboard in underachieving, when push comes to shove, he always comes through. And for most of the clans, the All-Clan Meeting is just one giant drunken celebration where they get to dance with the other clans. For my family and I, we have to suffer through a long, boring meeting where my father and the Wolf leader bicker the entire time.

“You better be recovered by the time you sail out. You don’t want to be the reason why you all die of thirst because you were too hungover to remember to store enough freshwater on board,” my father says.

The crew goes as silent as the dark of midnight in the mountains on a windless night. I would give my strength to the gods in order to do that. When he speaks, people not only listen, they obey. It doesn’t matter how strong I get; the crew will always see me as Bothvar Beorcolsson. No matter how many titles I obtain I will always be Beorcol’s son. As much as it disappoints me in some way, I also cherish it. While others see me as a giant slayer, some even laugh at that title. Not that I blame them. The crew… They’ll always see me as Beorcol’s son or Thorkel’s younger brother. I cherish this because when all else changes, as it always will, at least this will stay the same. They are not only the crew of my father and brothers, they are my friends.

“Are there any questions?” I ask.

Thialfi raises his hand. I let out a sigh and nod. “Aside from the barrel of wine I claim for myself, can we have one for the crew on the sail back?”

“Are there any important questions that can’t be answered while we’re at sea?” I ask. They all look at each other and shrug. I stand up. “Then go off and prepare yourselves.”

“And get a good fuck in with your wives,” Thialfi says with a grin and a wink. “I sure know I am.”

“It’s hard to believe you’re married,” Gunnstein says with a flat look. “I can’t imagine why Sigrid would want to marry a knutter like you?”

“Don’t worry about it, brother, some women just have good taste,” he says with a smile as he wraps an arm around his older brother. Gunnstein pushes him off.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Joreid asks, who is Gunnstein’s wife. She crosses her arms and puffs a string of long, brown hair out of her face. Her amber, almond eyes bear into Thialfi.

He goes stiff as a board with eyes the size of gold coins. The big ones. Then he tries to act casual. “Nothing, nothing at all.”

She only narrows her eyes even further, becoming as thin as a stitch needle to sew up clothes. Are they even open?

“What my son meant when he ended the meeting is get out of my hall and go home. I’m hungry. I want to eat, and I want to get some sleep,” my father says, interrupting their conversation with a rather annoyed look as he impatiently taps a finger against the table. The crew is out of the hall faster than my father can fill a mug up with ale, leaving a smirk on the old man’s face. “That went well enough, but you need to be more assertive. Do not let your friends disobey orders. You can let them have their fun, but disobeying orders can mean death at the hands of the enemy. Understand?”

He doesn’t even look at me as he fills a plate up with food as if he was talking about the weather. But his tone would make a Jotnar stand still. “I understand, father.” And I do. I’ve learned my lessons about death. Many times, over.

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Lura Syllana

Her eyes burned red as they seared into my soul. She could’ve been beautiful if half of her face wasn’t decayed flesh over bone. On one side her hair was golden with a green eye in a sea of warm, ivory skin up to her nose, but then turns into a sickly-white, pale, rotting flesh with parts of her skull visible. Half of her upper lip is missing. Her skeletal hand holds a scythe of bone, raising it above me as she seeks to reap my soul.

A loud, piercing scream tears me out of my sleep. I look over to find Melyis crying and yelling in her sleep. She cries out and talks. “Please, I’ll be good. I promise.”

I go to her and gently shake her until she springs awake and starts crying. I hold her in my arms as she weeps and sobs. This poor girl. What in the Light has she been through? Who would do such a thing to a sweet girl like her? It’s horrible. Those scars on her back… What monster is capable of doing that to her?

“I don’t want to go back to sleep, please… Please don’t make me go back to sleep,” she says, pleading and begging me.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be alright. You’re safe now,” I say, gently running my hands through her hair. “Come, lay down with me, I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

She nods and follows me to my bed. I pull her in and wrap my arms around her. We keep the lamp lit and lay there until we both fall back asleep.

—

The next day, the Paladins bring back the dead and I hold my breath as I go to see who is brought back, praying it’s not Orym. Thankfully, it isn’t. I thank the Light before going back to my studies with the others. They hold a funeral ceremony for them, and I’m shocked to see they’re taken by the Light as it beams down onto them and pulls their souls to the heavens.

We spend the next few days studying the book and the notes, quizzing each other about the things we need to know in the notes before we finally take the test and pass.

It’s like that with the next few levels. After we moved up to level four, we were given the book The Words of Akrasiel by Vedana Oddheart. Another current mother. She is one of Damaris’s mentors. I read the book with the care it deserves. It’s mostly about Akrasiel’s compassion and desire to help those in need. It speaks of service to those less fortunate and altruism. Those who serve the Light have a duty to care for those who suffer. There are tons of quotes by the Angel Akrasiel about self-sacrifice and service to the poor, homeless, and starving. We have a duty to heal the sick without bias. It does not matter what god they worship or what race they were born in; it is the servants of the Light’s duty to heal and care for all those who need it.

The entire book I can understand and I agree with. It is clear why Damaris is the way she is with someone like Vedana to learn from.

Unfortunately, the class is taught by a stuck-up noble boy named Glarald Balris. That’s not to say he isn’t handsome, but he is so arrogant and sure of himself. However, he’s easier to tolerate than most nobles. He doesn’t quite seem to view low-borns as lesser, but he still puts himself on a pedestal. It doesn’t take the four of us long to finish the book and memorize the principles within Terel’s notes that we need to learn in order to pass the test.

By this time, Ochilysse has received the next few books and has finished the first book, handing it over to Biremeril. As we enter the class as level fives, we get the book called The Holy Divine Light by Anfather, a current father of the Light. He has served as a Paladin and created the Paladin order before relinquishing his title as the Paladin’s Hand of the Light to become a father of the High Elven Church of the Light.

This class is taught by Fhaornik Venxidor, another high-born noble boy, but he is far different from any other high-born noble I’ve ever met. He smiles quite a bit and is rarely ever serious. Low-borns seem to be treated the same as high-borns. He is very cheerful and has a lot of jokes. He provides a rather pleasant change of pace. Before he lets us get to work, he always starts class with a laugh. He’s also very helpful.

The book of Anfather is all about our obligation to seek out justice and protect the innocent and defenseless. I shouldn’t be surprised about that. He did, after all, create the Paladin Order. He talks about how we should seek darkness, chaos, and all that threatens the peace and shed our Divine Light upon it, bringing order along with snuffing out war and violence.

It is our duty to remain vigilant against those who seek death and destruction. It is our responsibility to protect life and defend it against those who seek to bring death upon others.

We study hard, and, thankfully, Terel’s notes are at the back of the book to help us. At this time, several other of our fellow strays advances to Accepted, including Ochilysse, Cheyoise, Hubys, Inhepireth, Therlu, and Terelor.

New recruits have also joined us. I haven’t had much time to meet them as I am caught up between studies and labor. Another thing I’ve noticed is a huge change within Biremeril as he finishes the first book. He seems to have become rather lost and more withdrawn than normal. And a bit hostile. I saw him snap at Zarlatha Arcaneseeker during our service at the kitchens. I’ve never seen him act this way. He’s become more defiant and argumentative. I don’t know what to make of it. Is this because of what he has read within the book? Could it really be that hard to take?

We manage to pass the test to reach level seven, and Biremeril finishes the first book and hands it over to Ralodan, almost bitterly.

The next class is our final class since, in order to reach level nine, you must complete your hours, and to reach level ten you must pass a comprehensive test of all the teachings. Of course, I suppose we will have a class for that taught by another Accepted. This class is taught by a low-born woman named Helekharise. She’s nice and kind and offers much help. We’re given Light Incarnate, Akrasiel’s Second Coming by none other than Mathienne Naesalor, the High Mother of the church.

Within the book, it tells the prophecy of Akrasiel’s rebirth. Even though Akrasiel mentions a time of his sacrifice and rebirth, I guess he also took Mathienne aside and shared with her specific details of his second coming.

According to Mathienne, Akrasiel and the rest of the angels are beings born of the Light and are Light themselves. His rebirth may not just be one birth, but many since Light is not restricted by a physical form and one can become two. If one dies, like a phoenix, it is reborn from the ashes within a mortal form. It is told he will be reborn from a virgin. The seed of his soul will plant itself within a pure heart and be reborn from her womb. Akrasiel will return when the Light has been darkened by corruption and the seed of chaos grows in the hearts of mortals. When red becomes white, the Light will bring the birth of the one who will outshine the darkness. His coming will be one of many and when the many become one. The Light will shine its brightest when darkness threatens to encompass all.

It is rather confusing. The notes don’t help much. I guess Akrasiel will be reborn in several forms? Does that make any sense? Shouldn’t he just be reborn as he was? Or I guess in a mortal form… I don’t know what to make of it.

Helekharise only adds her thoughts on such a matter, but she admits that few know exactly what is meant besides Mathienne, and she is very vague about it.

We all study hard for the test and pass, but not as well as the previous tests. Either way, we have made it to level eight. Thankfully, we’ve been pretty good at getting our hours in every day, so we only have about forty hours left.

We spend much of our time either cleaning the kitchens, mopping floors, shining the glass, dusting, or doing other chores. When we aren’t doing chores, we study for the final test. Biremeril is on the second book of Terel’s and Ralodan says he’s nearly finished with the first book. He doesn’t seem all that affected by the book, unlike everyone else who’s read it. He still seems his cheerful and merry self.

It takes us all of four days of working ten hours a day to finally wrap up our labor hours. Then we are placed in a class with Illianaro, an Accepted stray who is close to reaching level ten. He’s rumored to become a Paladin upon passing his test to ascend from Accepted. Of course, I’m not surprised since the dark-skinned man is as strong as they come.

He is really helpful and does a good job of testing us for everything we need to know. Thankfully, we’re given back all the previous books with all the notes from Terel, so we know what to study.

After long days of study, we’ve all decided to take the test tomorrow. To prepare we hold a last-minute study session in the giant library, with bookcases stacked to the dome ceiling along with endless rows of bookshelves that go on forever. It smells of old, dusty paper. A smell that isn’t so bad.

We spend all night studying and testing each other until we are all certain of ourselves. After we clean up and head out, Ralodan pulls me aside. He smiles as he pulls out the first book. “I finished it.”

“And?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Honestly, I don’t know why everyone was freaking out over it. It really didn’t surprise me much. I felt like I kinda knew it already.”

I cautiously take the book from him, opening it up and flipping through the pages. “What is it about?”

“You’ll see once you finish reading it. Let me know when you do and I’ll tell you what I think.” He gives me that smile of his, and I nod in return before we join the others on the walk back to the Novice level.

Once inside the dorm, I tuck the book underneath my bed to read tomorrow, even though my mind is racing with questions. I can’t afford that distraction right now. I need to focus on passing the test tomorrow.

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Bothvar Beorcolsson

I have no idea how my father convinced my mother to let my younger siblings and Thora train, although Svala isn’t all that young. She’s a summer or two away from being old enough to raid herself. Bodvar isn’t that far behind. Thora still has a way to go, only being still my age when Arngunn’s parents died, but she’s able to hold a sword, so she must train.

The cave is growing crowded. The old men have brought their children to train as well. Aldam had sent for several more anvils and tools. The sound of hammers on metal echoes through the mountains. The men and several women, including the daughters of Einar, Throst, and Koll all look to me to lead them. Even my father has joined in and follows my lead. Part of me thinks they are all fools. What right do I have to lead? Wherever I go, death follows like a shadow I can’t outrun.

I must say, however, we’ve made much progress since the first day we started down this path after the battle with the giants. Those who came first, Solmund, Griotgard, Skardi, Einar, Koll, and Throst are well on their way to making weapons, helms, and breastplates. It seems Aldam’s way of training is far more effective than the method I used.

My siblings are not far behind. Especially Thormar, which surprises me. I never thought of him as a warrior, but he is proving me wrong. Bodvar is unsurprisingly progressing just as fast. He’s already on the bracelets, as well as Svala. Even Thora is showing strength beyond her cycles. She complains a lot, she’s combative, stubborn, fool-hardy, and foul-mouth. Just like her father and mother in many ways. She complains just as much as Asfrid did and is just as fool-hardy and stubborn as Thorkel. I don’t know where she learns the words that come out of her mouth, but when I do find out, I might just cut out their tongue.

I spar with the child as she wears the bracelets, slowing her movements. “This is so not fair! These bracelets are heavy. I could hit you if I didn’t wear them.”

“The bracelets give you strength. The harder the struggle, the stronger you get.”

She just growls as she tries her best to attack. I swat her strikes away and cover her body with bruises. “Too slow. You’ll have to do better than that if you hope to take up the sword and join us on raids.”

She grits her teeth and glares at me. She digs her practice sword into the ground and tries to fling rocks at me. I laugh as I beat them away while dodging her strikes. “You try to use that trick on me again, huh? You’ll have to do better.”

She lunges and feigns the overhead before going to a cross strike. I jump back and sweep her legs out as she tumbles down. She rolls to her side and slams her fist against the ground. She gets up and breaks the wooden practice sword on her knee, chucking it.

“Thora! You can’t keep letting your anger fluster you. Anger blinds you in battle and that leads to mistakes. It makes you careless. Now go fetch another stick and make yourself another practice sword. Stop breaking them so needlessly,” I say in a chastising tone. She huffs, practically growling at me before she turns heel and walks away muttering insults.

She’s grown wild and restless. That little girl who sat by my side at the dock not that long ago seems to have been lost. This girl who has taken her place is full of anger. I can understand that fury. Her anger isn’t without merit. She is mad at the world for the injustice of growing up without her parents. The only way to quell it is to burn it out of her through hard work and discipline.

I oversee the progress of the others. Vog Einarson and his sister Thorgunna are working with the pebble along with Throst’s daughters, Asvor, Alfdis, and one named Arngunn… a name that brings me much pain, along with Asdis and Alfeidi. Most of them seem to complain, particularly Arngunn. She is nothing like my Arni. It’s hard to even speak the name out loud.

Koll’s many sons and daughters and his grandsons and several granddaughters are also here training. Veleif, who was older than Thorkel has moved on to the bracelets while his second wife, Thorballa Cnutdottir, along with all four of his daughters Aldis, Estrid, Asvor, and Bolla work on the pebbles. My other cousins vary in progress as well. Frida has moved onto the bracelets while all of her younger sisters Greiland, Asfrid, Asgerd, and Yngvild all still try to lift the pebble. Their other brothers Svafar, Saxi, Gili, and Tyrkir all on the bracelets. Starolf Saxison, Gudrik Svafarson, and Hunbogi Veleifson also are still on the pebble. Some of the Kollsons’ wives also work hard to gain strength. Hallgerd Sigviddottir, Svafar’s first wife who is also Solmund and Griotgard’s older sister along with Tofa Odinkardottir, Svafar’s second wife, along with Arnjborg, Saxi’s first wife, and even my aunt, Ingithora, Koll’s second wife, work hard to gain strength. Ingithora already wears the bracelets, while the other two women are still with the pebble.

Koll is a lucky man to have such a large family. A family so large, he mans an entire ship with them, securing much wealth for his family. Father has always wished to do the same with our family.

Most of Father’s and Thorkel’s crew members are here as well. Particularly Grimwald’s line, his son, Gudleif, Gudlief’s wife Audbjorg, and their surviving daughter Turid, as well as Grimwald’s youngest son, Harvard, who is Thormar’s friend. Fridmund Bjarkisson along with Gizor, his sisters Greiland and Katla, aside from their other sister Arnora, Koll’s third wife. Iarl Gerison and Rognvald Holmgavtsson are here as well.

Solmund and Griotgard’s younger siblings, Hosvir Sigvidson and Vigdis Sigviddottir, are here along with Ulf Styrkarsson, and his sister Ingirid. Brynhild Svartkollrdottir and her son Thorvir Stormborn work hard and Thorvir seems to progress rather quickly.

I wish I had Aldam’s help when I came here. It would’ve made my progress much faster. The dwarf’s wisdom is much helpful. Without him, we’d be a jumbled mess.

Lastly, Gunnstein Cnutsson, his wife Joreid, and his two siblings Skarf and Thialfi make up the last of what is made up of Thorkel’s crew, which father intends for me to lead. I am still on the fence.

My father can only come up for part of the day before heading back to take care of affairs in town.

The mushrooms seem to have an effect on them. The ones who came first are starting to see the darkening effect on their skin and talk about their heightened senses. Some of the women are reluctant to eat them because of the effect they have on the skin. Some don’t want that color. But the price is worth it. The mushroom makes your body as fresh as an apple still on the tree nearly in the time it takes for a short nap. Their healing effect will give us a great advantage if war ever comes.

Our numbers have grown such that we had to find more caves. I’m reluctant to let anyone near Longhorn’s resting place. It is sacred to me and I will see it untouched. I’ve visited it several times to make sure it remains untouched. Especially with those foul shadow stalkers. I’ve heard their howling at night. It unsettled many of the men and women with training. I have half a mind to take out a hunting party and exterminate them all.

When I’m not training my siblings, overseeing everyone else’s training, I am hammering out tools, weapons, and armor with the green ore, nedratum, or whatever the dwarf calls it. We have the men and women make bracelets and pebbles for those behind them before they go on to make their own weapons and armors.

As night falls upon us, the howling of those damn shadow stalkers echoes through the mountain paths like a nefarious wind.

“What in the gods is that disturbing nose?” Fridmund asks, plugging his ears.

“You don’t want to know,” I say, casting weary glances out at the darkness. Under the moonlight, I can see their kind lurking through the darkness. Just out of range.

“Are those the shadow monsters we’ve heard about?” Thormar asks.

“They’re fiends, vicious and cunning. They’re relentless. When I first came here, they nearly killed me,” I say. That makes them all uneasy.

“I say we hunt them down. It’ll be a good test of our strength,” Svafar says, stroking his short black beard.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind having a nice challenge,” Starolf says, stretching his arm.

Saxi punches his arm. “Don’t be so hasty. You can’t even lift a pebble yet, son.”

“Be careful what you wish for. The shadow stalkers would love to sink their rotting teeth in your flesh. Although we might not have a choice. They’ve been circling our caves, stalking us for several nights now. They’re waiting for an excellent opportunity to strike. Probably hoping they can get us alone and weaken our numbers. The beasts are smarter than they look. If we do go out and hunt them, we will wait until daylight when they are weaker,” I say.

“We can take ’em,” Vog says, puffing his oversized chest out. “They’re no match for us. Same with them yeti I heard are up here. They might be big, but I can take ’em.”

“You’ll do no such thing if you find a yeti!” I snap at him.

“Why? Do you think I can’t kill one? Think I’m weak?” he asks, standing up.

“I wouldn’t mind having a yeti horn to mount on my wall,” Gizor says, stroking his long red beard.

“Anyone who tries to attack a yeti will have to answer to me. They are not to be harmed,” I say, as my ax slices a rock in two. The crack of the force makes many flinch.

“Why? They’re just beasts,” Vog says.

“If it weren’t for those beasts, the Shadow stalkers would’ve killed me. The yeti saved my life. No one will touch them.” My voice booms through the mountain pass, scattering the shadow stalkers. Vog sighs and throws his hands up.

A loud howl whips through our camp. It’s too close for comfort. They return beyond the campsite, circling. “Everyone, arm yourselves. Looks like you’ll have the fight you’re looking for. They’re closing in.”

“Aldam, Koll, Einar, Throst, Thormar, Griotgard, Solmund, Skardi, Veleif and Vog, with me. The rest of you get into the caves. The stronger of you guard the entrance, the rest fall behind for support. We’ll hold them off until dawn and then hunt them down,” I command.

“What about me?” Svafar says.

“Do as you’re told, boy,” Koll snaps at him. He reluctantly listens and heads into the cave with the rest.

I see them circling us. Their glowing red eyes seem to pierce the darkness. With an ax in one hand and the sword in the other, I stomp on the ground. “Come and get it, you foul creatures!”

The damn thing meets my challenge and darts at me with an unsettling, ravenous charge. Its claws rip through the air, seeking my flesh, barely missing as I step aside. The wretched stench of the beast makes it hard to breathe. It has the smell of rotting flesh and putrid death. My ax slices the fiend’s head clean off as its black blood sprays out. The blood is not right.

“What in the name of the gods is that thing?” Griotgard says.

More rush out of the darkness, seeking their meal. “Circle up!”

They gather around the entrance in an arc while the beasts dance just outside the light of the campfires. An arrow swipes past me straight into the eye of one of the beasts. I look back to see Svala notching another and others grab bows, following her lead.

A screeching howl pierces our ears as they storm us. At least six charges in. I take on the first, slicing off a long, clawed hand that sought my chest. Aldam’s hammer caves in the head of one that sought to make him his meal. Koll fends off another, covering himself in the black blood as he opens its chest with a swipe of his sword. Solmund screams out as a long claw opens his forearm. Griotgard manages to chop its arm off. Einar and Vog dispatch another, dismembering its arms before decapitating it. Solmund decapitates the one who cut him. Vog buries his ax in the chest of another. Skardi ducks under a swipe before slicing open its guts.

Throst and Thormar trade strikes, chopping down another fiend hungry for our flesh. Arrows continue to fly past us, seeking their rotting, discolored flesh covered in matted, sickly hair. Their howls make my ears hurt.

The dwarf’s blows seem to shake the entire mountain. In between another blast of his hammer, I hear the subtle clatter of rocks behind and turn around in time as a shadow leaps from above our cave entrance, only to impale itself upon my sword. I hurl it at the others charging in.

It seems like for every one we kill, two more take its place. The battle rages on through the night as the corpses of these shadow fiends start to pile up around us. Food in the mountains must be truly scarce for them to throw themselves at us like this.

Finally, they retreat as the sun breaks the horizon. They do not like the light. The men at my side are tired and wounded. Not one of them save for me and Aldam made it out of the fight without a cut, but none suffered any severe wounds. Solmund and Einar suffered a deep cut, but nothing the mushrooms can’t heal. “All of you, get inside, eat the mushrooms and drink the water. Then clean out your wounds thoroughly or you’ll suffer the taint of those beasts.”

“The rest of you, help me burn their corpses and clean their stench from our land.” No one argues as the wounded stumble in, helped by their kin. Those who aren’t helping the wounded come out to aid me in piling the corpses of the shadow stalkers into a pile.

“Wait!” Vog yells as he stumbles out with a nasty gash across his chest. “I want a trophy.”

I sigh, rolling my eyes. “Be quick then. I want these corpses burned.”

He takes out his ax and chops off the head of one.

“I want one too,” Gili says.

“You didn’t even kill one,” Svafar says, punching him in the shoulder.

“I did too. I shot one with my bow,” he says.

“If you want trophies, make it quick. I want this foul stench burned out!” I snap at them.

—

It took a full day for the men who fought by my side to recover. While they rested, the others continued their training. I scouted the land and found the den of those fiends during the day. Once the others recover, we hunt them down and kill them all during the day. They hide in their cave and we bring sacks of bear lard, light them on fire, and toss them into the cave. The beasts howl in pain as several erupt when they come into contact with the trickle of water. We set the entire cave ablaze with our flaming sacks of bear lard. When the flaming lard sacks come into contact with the shallow water in the cave, it looks like a dragon breathed fire upon the shadow stalkers.

Their howling echoes out and some of them even run out into the open air. We slay them as they try to escape the fire. However, it seems the sunlight burns their skin.

As the fires die down, I rush in with the others following and kill any left alive. Koll steps up and puts his hand on my shoulder. “Bothvar, you truly are the most cunning warrior. I have the privilege of fighting alongside. Who would’ve thought using burning bear lard would create such devastating eruptions?”

“I would like to add slingshots to our ships so they can fire them at our enemies,” I say.

“That is a truly great idea. The elves won’t know what hit them when we hurl flaming sacks of bear fat at them,” Throst says.

“The best thing about it is when they go to put them out with water, they’ll erupt in their face,” I say with a smile.

“I don’t get it. Why do they erupt like that?” Griotgard asks.

“The water, for some reason, whenever the burning bear grease comes into contact with water, it has that effect,” I say with a shrug. “Although I believe if you drop one into a lake of water or the sea, it’ll smother the flame, but if we can land them on their ships and they try to put them out with water, it’ll only make them erupt with a larger flame.”

“Well, we’ll have to visit the Builders once we get back. I want this on my ship. I suppose we’ll have to hunt quite a few bears to get us a good supply of the lard,” Koll says.

“We just have to be careful not to kill them all off or we’ll be out the lard for good,” I say.

“Good point,” Throst says.

“Just so you know, since you can’t put the grease fire out with water, you’ll have to smother it with a rock or sand. I learned this the hard way.” My smile doesn’t quite reach my eyes. I run my hands through my beard cautiously.

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Koll says.

We head back to the caves and get to work. The rest of spring goes by as their strength grows. By the time spring ends, most have made their own weapons with the metal and some have crafted armor as well.

As night takes over, I see Bodvar sneaking up on Thormar with one of the skulls of the shadow stalkers. He howls as he gets behind Thormar, causing him to jump, which also causes Svala to nearly fall over laughing. Even Thora snickers. However, this backfires as Thormar cold-cocks Bodvar in the face, sending him on his arse. I only shake my head with a sigh.

—

On one of my many trips back to town, I head over to speak with the boatbuilder, Osvald, and his crazy lover, Gyda. This time her hair is pink and I find that very strange. It’s a different color every time I see her. Osvald isn’t exactly what I would call normal either. The man spends more time with his wood than with other people. He spends a lot of time with the trees. Aldam calls the elves tree huggers. Osvald is king tree-hugger. He speaks of trees as if they’re alive. Constantly pressing his ear up to them as if to hear their heartbeats.

His partner, Gyda, is even crazier. While he loves to build, she loves to destroy. It was her idea to put mounted ballistae on our ships and she created the different bolts to use with them, including the hammer bolt to punch through ships’ hulls.

“How goes it, Osvald and Gyda?” I ask as I walk to them.

“Oh, we’re doing fine, Bothvar. How are you, my friend?” Osvald asks, pulling on his long, braided mustache. He and Gyda are much older than they look. Older than my father, but they don’t look any older than me.

“Good. I’ve come to ask you about an idea I have,” I say as the builder peers down a long wood plank propped up on two wooden pairs of legs that makes it look as if it were a horse. Gyda sits by herself at a table looking at different powders.

“Share away,” he says, not taking his attention from the wooden plank.

“Well, I would like to create a sort of sling that we can attach to our ships that can launch flaming sacks of lard,” I say, trying to explain it with my hands the way a yeti would. It is hard to stop talking that way once you start.

Gyda perks up. “Did someone say launch flaming sacks of lard? That sounds like fun!”

Osvald finally stands up from crouching in front of the plank and paces, as he twirls one finger around one of the braids hanging from his mustache. “That could work quite well if you figure out how to fire the sling without getting burnt. I suppose if you attach some kind stopper on the sling with a lever, it’d take care of that problem, then you’d still have to figure out how to prevent the sling itself from catching fire or melting.”

“Why not just use a metal plate at the center of the sling to hold the hot sack?” Gyda asks.

“Yes, that would work.” Osvald nods his head and looks up at me. “We will make these slings for your new ships.”

“I also have concerns about our ship’s weight capacity. We have a new metal for our armor and weapons that is much heavier than that of iron or steel,” I say as I take out my sword and stab it into the ground.

Osvald inspects the weapon and tries to lift it. Osvald smiles and rubs his hands together. “Yes, that might prove to be a major concern. I’ll have to think about this. You’ve presented me with quite a challenge, Bothvar. It’s been a while since I had a good challenge. I thank you.”

I smile because I can understand his excitement. I’ve come to see why people enjoy challenges. I nod. “Thank you, Osvald, and thank you, Gyda. If there is anything you need, let me know.”

“Of course, I will think long and hard about how to solve the weight problem and I will achieve it. I will probably need to have more of these weapons and armor to experiment with and test my ships,” he says.

“And you will have it.”

—

Here I find myself again, sitting on the dock, staring out at the endless sea. Wishing I could see them all one last time. The sun’s beauty will forever be dimmed by what the world lost to the stars and I’m left here alone while my wife and child feast with my brother and his wife and son. It’s hard to still believe in the gods when they took from me what mattered most. I’m done screaming at the gods who only seem to take from me. How do I find the will to fight on when the people I was fighting for are no longer here?

The best of me died with the love of my life and our son, leaving the rest of me here in broken pieces. Only a promise keeps me going on. “Brother, I will make sure Thora lives to carry on your legacy. I promise you that.”

I just wish I could let go and see my beloved Arngunn and our child in the halls of the afterlife. I would trade all the honor, glory, and riches in the world to spend one more day with them in my arms. “Arni, why did you leave me?”

What kind of question is that? It was I who left her. Left her and our child to face the long night alone. I am not worthy of her love. I don’t think I ever was. She deserved better. A man who won’t let revenge take him away from those who need him.

Suddenly, someone rushes down the dock and jumps into the water. A moment later, Thora’s head pops up onto the surface. “Uncle Bothvi. The water feels good. Come in!”

“You crazy child, you nearly made my heart leap out of my chest!” I snap at her. But then it really does leap out of my chest when something else surfaces. A black shark-like fin pokes out of the water and darts towards Thora. “Thora! Get out of the water!”

I leap in after her, but I’m not fast enough as the monster reaches her. But to my astonishment, she’s lifted out of the water and onto its back. She laughs and giggles as the thing swims circles around me with her on it. I look under the water and see that it is a killer whale and my heart practically stills in my chest. There are several more coming.

“Thora, we have to get out of the water. That is a killer whale. They are dangerous!” I yell.

“Oh, don’t worry uncle Bothvi, this is my friend Meara and her kin. She just wants to play. Oh, what’s that, Meara?” Thora puts her ear down against the whale. “You have something of ours?”

The whale swims over to the docks, and I try to swim as fast as I can over there, too. Thora climbs onto the dock and before I realize it, she’s reaching down into the beast’s maw between its razor-sharp. “Thora, what are you doing!”

My breath catches in my throat, but I let it out as she pulls something out of the whale’s mouth. I climb onto the dock as the other whales swim around the docks, leaping out of the water and doing strange things. One even pops up and sprays me with water out of its mouth. Another slaps its fin against the water. “What in the name of the gods is going on?”

“They’re just having fun, uncle Bothvi. Don’t you hear them talking?” she asks, holding something in her hands.

“You hear them talking?” I ask.

“Don’t you?” she says, nodding. I shake my head.

“What is that in your hand?” I ask.

“Some strange pendant. They said you dropped it,” she says, holding it out to me.

I let out a gasp as I take it from her. It was the pendant I was going to give Arni. I chucked it into the water several cycles ago. They’ve been holding onto it all this time? Why did I throw it away? I regretted that. “Tell them… Tell them I thank them.”

She jumps back into the water and gets back onto the whale, who had the pendant. “They said you’re welcome.”

She then rides it around the harbor, hooting and howling in laughter. She truly is the Daughter of the Sea. I’m going to start calling her little fish.

—

I take several of those who have advanced through the training to go on a hunt. My father, Koll, Einar, Thormar, Throst, Vog, Veleif, Solmund, Skardi, Griotgard, Svala, Bodvar, and even Thora. We head down the mountain and stalk through the forest, following the tracks of a bear. We make the young ones trail back while I lead the party on, following it as it gets near the road. When we catch the bear, I head it off while the others circle it. This is a tusk nose bear with tusks longer than most boars. It doesn’t hesitate to charge. I dash aside from its spearhead charge. I slice its throat, giving it a clean and painless death.

“Ahhh… You could’ve saved us some action,” Vog says with a sigh.

“You’re more than welcome to skin it,” I say with a smile.

“We’ll have the younglings do it. Svala, Thora, and Bodvar. Come,” my father shouts.

The three of them rush up to meet us. “Now is your chance to learn. Let Thormar show you how to salvage the bear and skin it.”

In the distance, heavy footsteps sound off. Many of them. I’m not the only one who hears them, as most of the party looks in the direction they come from.

“It appears the road has travelers,” my father says. “Let us see who it is.”

I nod and lead the way, keeping as quiet as possible while trying to get the others to do the same. We keep low as we get as close as possible to the road. We don’t need to get too close to see who it is. It’s a party of the Southerners. Several elves with blue eyes lead them on horses with bright shiny armor. Behind them is a company of soldiers. They’re marching south.

“Shall we attack?” Einar asks, dragging his weapon out.

“No… Let them be,” I say.

But before anyone can reply, shouts are heard as people from the other side of the road charge out of the forest. At first, I thought it was the Wolves, but to my dismay, it was another clan. Men wearing the skin of others, along with heads of wolves, boars, horses, goats, and all sorts of animals, attack the men. My anger surges at seeing the clan responsible for killing Tonna and the other Valkyrie. They attack the men marching south and they have more in numbers. Killing off several. But to my surprise, the elves use this white magic. One in particular cuts a path against the Bone Eaters. Using light as a shield. Despite that, they are vastly outnumbered. They will not win this fight. And no one deserves to be meat for the Bone Eaters. I charge out and attack, howling a storm at the Bone Eaters. I cut through them without remorse. My blade cuts a savage wearing a bear’s head in half as I watch his intestines flop out. My ax slices through the sword of another and rips open his chest. I can see his beating heart cut in half.

The rest of the Krakens follow me into battle, hacking down the Bone Eaters. I stab through one of them, about to attack the back of the elven wizard warrior. His eyes meet mine and he hesitates. I sling the body down and attack another who was about to slash at him. He makes a decision and attacks a Bone Eater rushing me. For once, we fight side by side with the Southerners and the Elves. But I get carried away and lost in my blood lust as I chase the Bone Eater’s down and kill as many as I can. I hate them all.

When I come back, one of the elven magic wizard warriors is dead while another wizard warrior mourns for him. A human one. He looks up at us. “I don’t know who you are, but thank you for your help. Those monsters would’ve had us.”

“I hate the Bone Eaters. They are worse than any of you Southerners. They are not among us and we kill them on sight. Not even you and your people deserve to be their meal. Cannibals they are, and that is not our way.”

The man stands up and steps toward me, but holds out his hand. “Maybe we’re not that different. My name is Alexandros and I’m with the Paladin order of the Light.”

“Bothvar,” I say, shaking his hand. “And this is my father, Beorcol, Earl of the Kraken clan.”

My father steps up and also shakes his hand. “Normally we’d be the ones fighting you, but you’re lucky my son decided not to, but unfortunately, the Bone Eaters had other plans. But my son is right, we do not associate with such savages. For now, we’ll leave you and your people in peace. But do not mistake us as allies. We will never bow down to your tyrant king.”

The man nods. “Fair enough. Even so, we thank you for your aid, Northerners. We’re in your debt. Perhaps maybe one day we could set aside our differences and become allies instead of enemies.”

“Perhaps. There are greater threats than your people and not just the Bone Eaters. Giants come from the north to raid and attack us. Jotnar, we call them. They nearly destroyed our village, and they were just a raiding party. You should check your shores, for soon they will be upon them,” father says.

“Thank you for the warning. I won’t take it lightly,” Alexandros says, nodding.

“We will be off then,” father says as he turns to the men. “Let’s go.”

On our way out, I overhear the man talking to his men about the dead elf. “Orym fought bravely. He sacrificed himself and saved my own life. And those Krakens… It might be possible to break peace with them. Write up a report and send it to Commander Astacos detailing this situation.”

“You fought well, my son. But maybe next time we hold our blades,” my father says.

“I will never keep my sword sheathed when Bone Eater’s walk upon our land. No one deserves to become their meal. I hate them.”

“As do I, but we cannot risk our own men in a fight that is not ours,” he says.

“No one died of ours, right?” I ask.

“No, but still. It wasn’t our fight,” he says.

“But we may have just started a potential alliance,” I say.

“There will never be an alliance with the Southerners. Not with King Vandil on the throne,” he says with a growl.

“I wasn’t talking about King Vandil or the Southerners. Did you not see? They are separate clans of people. These… Soldiers of the Light. They do not follow kings. They are their own nation I believe. The slaves we have that followed their order told me.”

He scratches his beard. “Still, these children of the Light sound like some followers of some religion. They’ll most likely want to force us to convert to their Light. I will not have it,” he says, ending the conversation.

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Lura Syllana

Chalia finishes the first book of Terel’s and, for the first time, she’s speechless. She won’t even talk about it. She hands the book over to Ochilysse and moves on to the next one. What could possibly be so outlandish that it gets a reaction like that? Or like Charinva? I need to know the secrets within those books. I’m dying to read them.

In class, Voborrie is a little intense when it comes to helping. She’s a bit vocal and brash when she tries to help and teach. Fortunately, this level isn’t too difficult. What is taught isn’t hard to grasp. So, when we are finally ready to take the test to move on, we all pass with ease.

Unfortunately, both Chalia and Charinva make it to level ten, which means Chalia has to move out of the Novice dorms.

I sadly help her pack her things. And, unfortunately, there isn’t much to pack since most Novices don’t have many possessions. I help her carry her things to her new dorm room in the Accepted quarters. One which she gets all to herself. It’s rather small, a bit smaller than the one we shared, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

“I’m going to miss you,” I say, desperately holding onto my tears. Life with Chalia was better than anything else I’ve had. She truly felt like a sister to me. She smiles and hugs me tightly. “Don’t worry. I won’t be far, and soon you’ll join me. You and the others have been rising through the ranks so fast. It’s nearly as fast as Charinva. Just be patient, and soon you’ll be right next door. I know it, and soon we’ll both become sisters together.”

I look at her and wipe away the few tears that escaped, nodding. “I can’t wait.”

“Now, come to me once you finish reading the books. There’s a lot I want to talk to you about.” I nod and give her another hug. Then I make the lonely track back to my empty dorm. It feels so dark without her. I can’t help but wonder who I’ll get stuck with. What if it’s a noble? That would be the worst.

A knock at the door and I walk up to answer it and see Melyis standing there, clasping her elbow as she stares at the floor. “Hey.”

She looks up and bites her lip. “I was wondering since Chalia had moved out if I could move in? My roommate also just reached level ten, which isn’t all that bad since she was rather… Hard to live with.”

I nod. “Of course, you can move in. I would like that very much. I was just thinking about who I would end up with as a roommate and I’m glad it’s you. The last thing I want is to get stuck with a noble.”

She smiles. “Well, I’m glad you’re happy. You’re one of the few friends I’ve ever had. You, Chalia, Ralodan and Biremeril. I’ve never had friends before. I never imagined having friends would make me so happy. Please tell me if I am being too forward, but I think of you as a sister I never had.”

“Aww, thank you. I feel the same way,” I say before I realize I have pulled her in for a hug. She is so sweet and sometimes a bit naive. But I remember seeing the scars all over her back, and I can’t imagine how anyone would ever want to hurt her.

I help her move her things into the room, which is hardly anything at all besides the robes she’s been given and some books she’s taken out of Charinva’s library. For not being very good at reading, she’s become quite the scholar.

After she is settled, we join Biremeril and Ralodan in getting some of our hours knocked out. So far, we’ve managed to get six to eight hours done a day, and we’ve knocked out over two-thirds of the hours required. It helps when you do them together. Today, we all head to the kitchens to help cook and prepare the food. Then we get to eat real fast before we help clean up.

Ralodan and I wait for the other two to finish their tasks out in the hall, which gives me time to finally ask him what I’ve been wanting to ever since the High Father’s sermon. “Ralodan… Can I ask you something?”

He nods with a smile. “Sure, you can ask me anything.”

I look down at my feet and shift my weight back and forth between my heels and my toes. “Back during the High Father’s sermon, you… Did you…. Did you feel anything?”

I look up to meet his eyes, and his face grows hard. He nods. “I felt something I didn’t like. I don’t know what it was. There is something about him that makes me suspicious. I don’t trust the High Father.”

I wish I could tell him about the Brothel. I only nod my head. “Did you see everyone else and how they responded? It was like they were entranced by his words.”

He nods. “I think he is using some kind of spell of some sort. Not any source that I can make out though.”

“Why do you think it didn’t affect us like everyone else?” I ask.

“I don’t know why it didn’t affect me, but I’m sure it didn’t affect you because of that ring you wear,” he says, pointing at my hand.

My eyes go wide as I grasp my hand, feeling the invisible ring. “You can see that?”

He nods. “For whatever reason, I’ve always been able to see what shouldn’t be seen. Like that ring on your finger. I know I shouldn’t be able to see it, but it glows so brightly. I can tell it gives you some protection from whatever gives the High Father power in his words. Don’t worry, though, I will not tell anyone about your ring.”

“Thank you,” I say with a smile of relief. When Melyis and Biremeril arrive, things stay quiet between us.

“So? What took you two so long?” I ask with a smile.

“Oh, just Zarlatha Arcaneseeker needed assistance,” Biremeril says.

“What he means to say, Zarlatha convinced him to do all of her work,” a tall, a rather broad woman with short hair and long ears, interrupts.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Ralodan says, giving Biremeril a smile. “Biremeril has a good heart and helps everyone.”

“More like he’s soft,” the girl says with a laugh and walks out.

“Who is she?” I ask.

“Oh, her? That’s Ilethana. She just likes to give me a hard time,” Biremeril says, his eyes avoiding everyone else’s as he scratches the back of his neck. “You shouldn’t tolerate it,” I say. He only shrugs.

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Bothvar Beorcolsson

Shimmering eyes are as blue as the deep sea that seem to glow even when there is no light. Golden hair that shines brighter than the sun. She’s a pure goddess with a touch as warm as a hearth of a burning flame. The way she looks at me is of pure love and devotion. The sun slowly peeks through our balcony as she snuggles up in my arms, kissing me softly. She’s my beautiful wife, my love, my heart. I would give her all the realms even if it cost me everything else. She’s everything to me. Her kisses give me life. They are what fill me with purpose. She’s given me everything I’ve ever wanted in life, beautiful children and her love most of all. With it, I feel like I can take on anyone. Not even giants are a match for my hammer because her love gives me the strength to defeat them all. Even the storms will bow before me when I have the heart of such a strong woman. With her by my side, there are no impossibilities.

I open my eyes and see nothing but the dark cave, feeling more alone than I’ve ever felt without Arngunn’s deep blue eyes to look into. It was only a dream, but it felt so… real. That woman, I know it was Arni… She shared the same face. The same smile. Why do my own dreams give me hope only to take it away when I awaken? What could’ve happened if I had only stayed home? If I had just let go of my hate. My need for revenge. Would she still be here? Would our son grow old? Would we have had more children? These thoughts haunt me. The strange thing is it felt more like a memory than a dream. It felt like I lived it. How could that be? Could be what is to come when I reunite with her in the halls of the gods? I must earn my worthiness so I can make that my fate.

The morning came, and I met with my father’s friends at the gates. They followed me up the mountain to the cave where the others trained. Einar wasn’t too keen on taking orders from Aldam and being put to work. Koll and Throst didn’t complain, however.

While Aldam pushed them to their limits, he fashioned thin bracelets for them all to wear. That’s when I noticed his hammer is made out of the glow metal as well. Not the same hammer he went to battle with, but a simple blacksmith’s hammer.

I left them to Aldam to fetch my siblings and Thora. It is time she learns to truly fight and grow strong. If my brother and I knew of this type of training, who knows how things could’ve gone.

I meet with my father, who’s overseeing the construction of our harbor, pulling him away from any ears that might get back to my mother. “I am going to train Bodvar, Svala, and Thora.”

He shakes his head. “As much as I’d like to, your mother will not agree.”

“If Thorkel and I trained at their age, do you not think things would’ve gone differently? Maybe Thorkel might still be alive. Maybe our wives and children would still be here,” I say.

He scratches his beard as he turns to look over the town. “You may be right. I’ll talk to your mother. In the meantime, take Bodvar and Thormar up to train.”

“I will take Thora. She’s my responsibility,” I say with no room for argument.

“Your mother won’t see it that way,” he says.

“You have to make her see it. Thora will not be weak like Thorkel and I were.”

“My son, you think strength comes from the body?” father asks, his eyes meeting mine.

“Where else does it come from?” I ask.

He places his hand on my shoulder. “You need a strong mind and a strong heart before you could ever have a strong body. Strength comes from your will and your heart. Make them strong and your body will be strong as well. I’m surprised you don’t know that seeing how strong you’ve become.” 

“You’ve always been wise, father.”

He nods. “Now, take your siblings and show them the way.”

I nod and walk away to find my brothers inside the hall, pelting Thon with a thousand questions. Thormar beams with utter excitement. “Is it true that banshees exist?”

Thon nods. “They’re spirits of the dead who come to herald their descendants.”

“Have you killed one before?” Bodvar asks, his eyes lighting up.

“Can you kill the dead?” Thon asks.

“I don’t know. Can’t you just bash ’em?” Bodvar asks.

“Bodvar, don’t be a complete and utter fool. You can’t just bash a Banshee, they’re a corporeal spirit. Physical weapons won’t work on them. Or so I’ve heard,” Thormar says.

Bodvar turns and gives him a good kick in the shin. “Don’t call me a fool! I’m not a fool.”

“You bloody bastard! What was that for?” Thormar hisses as he practically jumps up and down on one leg while rubbing his shin. I can only snicker. These two will never change.

“Banshees aren’t necessarily evil and you’re right, you can’t just bash a spirit. It takes magic to kill them, but I wouldn’t kill a banshee, for they only seek to protect their descendants. It is those who they warn of that need killing,” Thon says.

“Alright, you two. Stop annoying our honored guest and come with me. I’ve got work for you,” I say, grabbing them by the collars of their tunics and dragging them away.

“Hey! I’ve got loads more questions,” Thormar says, struggling.

“Father’s orders,” I say.

They grumble and complain as they follow me out the side gate that, oddly enough, doesn’t have a scratch on it compared to a few paces down where the entire wall has been destroyed. We make our way up the mountain again.

“What are we doing?” Thormar asks.

“You’ll see,” I say.

“Will mother be mad that we’re going into the mountains?” Thormar asks.

“No questions. Just come,” I say.

“Will we get to fight a bear? I heard you fought a bear and killed it. I could take one on,” Bodvar says.

I turn and eye him. The boy is hardly big enough to fight a hare. I turn back and continue on. “You’d make an excellent supper for a bear.”

“I would not. The bear would be my supper.” He puffs his chest out. I don’t doubt he’d try to fight a bear. Bodvar has always been fearless. I think he must’ve been born a few ore men short of a full boat. Stupid boy.

We head down the path and arrive at the cave where the others work hard. Solmund, Griotgard, and Skardi are making good progress. They’ve got the wristbands on and are out in the cave swinging pickaxes. Koll, Einar, and Throst are still working with the pebble. Aldam continues to pound his anvil, making more materials for the village. He looks up at me. “Boy, if you go back down to the village, take these fools with you and have them carry down the nails and get more iron. I don’t have a lot left, so you’ll have to go out prospecting.”

I nod. “I already know where some veins are and coal as well.”

Aldam smiles with a hint of pride. “Good lad. I figured as much. You spent a whole winter up here. I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

“Here’s these two more, put ’em to work. Come on, you three. Let’s head back. I need to convince my mother to let Thora and Svala train up here,” I say.

The three of them look ready to collapse. Griotgard bends over and rests his hands on his knees, heaving for air. “Strike me dead and send me to Niflheim. It could be no worse than how I feel now. I need a quick breather. How did you do it, Bothvar? I can barely move.”

“Come on brother, you’re acting like a Southerner,” Solmund says before he nearly stumbles over.

Skardi is drenched in sweat and teeters back and forth. I can’t help but smirk. My time here was far different and more of a war than work. I nod towards the cave. “Get some cave water that has the glow rocks in it and eat a mushroom or two and you’ll feel better.”

The three stumble over to the cave. Aldam gives my brothers both a little pebble. Or at least sets it on the ground for them to pick it up. Neither of them succeeds at it. Aldam only smirks. “You boys are weaker than a rotten board. Now go in there and drink the water and eat a shroom. We’re going to need to find another cave at the rate we’re going.”

“Well, hopefully after I fetch Svala and Thora, it’ll be it for now. I suppose after Koll, Einar, and Throst finish, their children will be next. Then our crews after that. We need to be careful who we train. The wrong people could be truly devastating. Especially Grom, Thrain Haklangsson, and their lot.”

“Aye, you see the dilemma now, don’t you? The more people who have this strength, the less of an advantage it becomes. That’s why the dwarves hoarded it for so long. Our Iron Mountains are full of this metal and the shrooms with large caverns of pools glowing with it along with. However, only those who’re deemed worthy can mine it and gain its strength. Being the brother clan of the royal line of succession gave my clan access to it. But not all dwarves get it. You can tell who the royal line considers worthy by who shares our iron skin. That’s how the Ironhammer’s got their name. Of course, when your lot arrived, or I suppose the southern lot, we helped them because they were the enemy of our enemy, the Wood Elves.”

“What did you mean when we arrived? Or the Southerners? Where did we come from?” I ask.

“Goat’s blood, boy. Do you not know where you come from?” Aldam asks.

“I heard we’re not from this land, but our home has been long forgotten. We don’t know much beyond our ancestor, King Bjorn the first king. They say he was the first to arrive with an army of settlers. Of course, they also discovered that humans, as you call us, were already here. The southern Saxons and the ones south of them. But later did we realize they were different from the people south of them. The Tyrants. King Vandil’s people who worship different gods.”

“Well, I don’t know much about the Saxons, as you call them. But I know Vandil’s line. It was his ancestor, King Alexander, the first great king who arrived here. He brought an army and made the mistake we dwarves made when we left the mountains for the first time.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“They started chopping trees down. The elves don’t like that, bunch of tree huggers, the lot of them. They think Trees are alive and the pointy-eared bastards think they can talk to ’em or something. A crazy bunch of bush fuckers, if you ask me. But to them, chopping a tree down is a reason for war. That’s how our war began with them. And that’s how King Alexander and his men got themselves mixed into it. They weren’t a strong lot. Rather weak at the time. This was a couple of hundred cycles ago or more. I was but a wee lad at the time.”

My jaw drops. “How old are you?”

The dwarf counts on his fingers. “Let’s see. I was born only a few cycles after my cousin Nesley was born. It was oh… about 1104 Dragon time. What cycle is it today?”

“What are you talking about? What is Dragon time?” I ask.

“For the love of the gods, boy, how do you not know what dragon time is?” Aldam asks, holding his hands up in frustration.

“For us, it’s the 272nd summer since we have arrived here. Give or take a cycle. The wise one keeps track of these things. To most it is not important,” I say.

“Well, Dragon, time started when the Dragons arrived and formed the world into their image. Of course, they weren’t the first ones here you see. The Gronns and the Giant Titans were fighting over the land before the Dragons arrived. Neither could stand against the Dragons though. The Dragon Lords are gods in their own right and killed many of the Gronns and Giants. Of course, the elves will tell you this Lady of the Forest of theirs came and made peace between them, breaking the land into many different lands scattered throughout the seas. But that’s just what the elves say. They worship this forest lady as if she were Hreitharr himself. But she ain’t no builder god. She’s some witch, if you ask me. However, it’s said that she made the elves and the orcs. Or at least the elves we have today. They used to be little savages who were shorter than us dwarves who huddled in small tribes throughout the forests. Cowering from the Dragons, Gronns, and Giants. But then she made four elves out of them. Their names are Deker, Alluin, Syphire, and Saria. Two boys and two girls. And made orcs out of Gronns. Two orcs. Sharogg and Barathogg. Maybe she mated with them, I don’t know. But dragon time began when the Dragons first came here.”

“How do you know when they came?” I ask.

“The dragons told us,” he says as if that were obvious.

“You spoke with the dragons?” I ask.

“Well, not me personally, but my ancestors did. I have only seen one dragon in my entire lifetime. It was large enough to black out the sun. You do not want to meet one of them. They are smart and cunning, but they’d sooner eat you for breakfast than tolerate your presence. We’re just but mere mortals to them,” he says.

“Huh…” I say scratching my head. This is a lot to know. Griotgard, Solmund, and Skardi walk out of the cave. “Well, let’s get to it then. Come on, you three.”

They seem to have recovered some. The water and shrooms really are something else. They take turns pushing the cart down the mountain as we head back to town.

Once we arrive, I split off from them to find my father. He’s in the hall talking to my mother. They’re with the leaders of the Valkyrie tribe and the Builder tribe. Among them are Dasyra Ragnarsdóttir, Amalgunda, and Amalasontha, along with the old chief of the Builders Trefor Treharne, and his head carpenter, Aethelwin. Thon also sits in the corner. This time, Svala and Thora pester him.

The three Valkyrie leaders give me a nod in recognition. I return it with respect. “These giants will return. We need to prepare for them and have a plan of action when the time comes,” my father says.

 “That we can agree upon,” Dasyra says. I still can’t believe she is the Valkyrie’s matriarch. She looks far younger than Amalasontha and Amalgunda and yet they refer to her lead. It’s not that Amalasontha and Amalgunda are old. They’re not young either. About the same age as my mother even. “We’ll need to strengthen our walls.”

“I’d suggest adding ballistas throughout your walls,” Aethelwin says. “We can come to some agreement by installing them.”

“Yes, that would make the giants think twice,” father says with a nod.

I step forward. “May I make a suggestion?”

“Your advice is always welcomed, Bothvar Beorcolsson, friend of the yeti and bone breaker,” Amalasontha says, but the smile she wears is one of sadness. Bone breaker? I never heard that title before. The other doesn’t surprise me. However, mother and father seem to look at me with curious expressions.

“I think we should train our warriors on how to fight these giants. Shield walls and the other tactics we use against the Southerners and the elves will not work. They can break the shield wall as easily as a twig.”

“Do you have any suggestions on how to fight them?” Dasyra asks.

“We need to fight like wasps and swarm them. Chop at their feet and bring them down to their knees so we can take their heads or go for their hearts. That worked well, even though it might take four or five men for each giant,” I say.

“That is good for fighting them one at a time, but what if they match our numbers?” Amalasontha asks.

“If we can make walls strong enough to withstand their attacks, we can drive them into a narrow passageway to force them to fight us one at a time,” my father says.

“Might I add a suggestion?” Aethelwin asks. Everyone nods. “What if we make crossbows with rope attached to bind their arms and legs? Or even rope with weights attached to snare their wrists.”

“It’d take several people to restrain them. A giant can pick up even the largest of our men as easy as picking up a stick,” my father says.

“We need spell swords like Thon. He was the most effective against them,” I say.

They all look over at the spell sword, who meets their gaze. “I cannot stay. In fact, I’ve stayed too long. I should be on my way. I have my own journey.”

“Very well, then we shall reward you for your aid, friend,” father says as he shows Thon his treasure. “Take what you think is worth your service.”

Thon looks over the treasure, and he picks up a glowing orb. “You have a shielding orb? You’ll want to keep this on your ships. It’ll shield your ships from magic. You’ll need it more than I will.”

He sets the orb down. Then looks at a particular, rather ugly, necklace and meets my father’s gaze. “This will suffice.”

“Thank you again, for all your service. If you’re ever in the North, you’re always welcome here at Stormfront.” My father holds out his hand and Thon takes it in a shake, nodding.

I walk over to him and hold out my own hand. “It was an honor to fight alongside such a warrior as yourself.”

“I say the same, Bothvar, Giant Slayer.” He shakes my hand and nods.

I laugh. “If I am the Giant slayer, then you are the bane of them.”

“Then so shall it be. From now on, Bothvar will be known as Giant Slayer and Thon will be known as Giantsbane,” Sigvor says. He nods once more before he turns and walks away.

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