Dwarf

Bothvar Beorcolsson

We’ve been at sea for several days, following my father’s instructions. We follow the route of the ship we seek. Days go by as we sail the all but empty seas. Those whales never stop following us. For some odd reason, it feels reassuring to have them with us. As if Thora is among us.

The crew has kept busy playing pranks on the Wolf pup. Thialfi especially. He’s fallen back on his old tricks, putting dung in the boy’s boots along with hiding his stuff. The ship is big enough for him to be quite successful in doing so.

However, not all seem to spend their time picking on him. Thormar seems to have befriended the Wolf pup. I see the two chatting with each other on several occasions. They seem to have a lot to talk about.

The crew has taken a liking to his little pet cat-person thingy. I’ve seen others like it. It walks like a human and is just as tall as one, but looks like a cat. Sometimes it even acts like one, licking itself. The crew, especially the women, think it’s adorable. They spoil the thing, feeding it and petting it while they have time. Gadaric invites it, and that seems to have won over some of the women to his side. Especially Joreid, Greiland, and Ingirid. Those three have started to look after the Wolf pup as if he were a little brother, harping on Thialfi whenever he tries to pull one of his pranks on him. Although Joreid has never needed a reason to harp on Thialfi. She might be married to his older brother, Gunnstein, but the two of them have never gotten along really well.

Gizor, on the other hand, has become a little less welcoming. Especially with his sister all but fawning over the boy. I’m just glad it’s his sister fawning over him and not my own. Wouldn’t put it past Gizor to slit the boy’s throat in his sleep. I’ll need to keep an eye on him. The only reason he hasn’t killed Gudleif for cheating on his other sister is because the two have always been close friends.

Thankfully, Rognvald does a good job of keeping everyone from killing each other for the most part. I don’t know how I’d do it without the man. He’s a good first mate. The best. Thormar needs to find a man like him if he wishes to be successful going west. A man with experience and a backbone.

It also helps to have friends like Solmund, Griotgard, and Skardi here as well. They always have my back when conflict arises. When Thialfi crosses the line, which he often does, Solmund and Griotgard always set him straight. Although Griotgard joins his pranks, more often than not he knows the line, unlike Thialfi. Skardi also is good at calming people down. He always knows the right things to say. Especially with Griotgard and his constant pursuit of women. Ingirid has come very close to chopping off his balls; luckily Skardi came in to settle the issue. Thankfully, Ingirid respects Skardi. Most people do. He might be a few arrows short of a full quiver, but no one would say he lacks wisdom. He sees things that others do not.

He’s also good at settling conflicts. Especially between the Cnutssons. Thialfi, Skarf, and Gunnstein who are always at each other’s throats. Especially since Thialfi knows exactly how to pull the other’s bowstrings and set them off. And Gunnstein’s bowstring is already quite taught. It doesn’t take much for him to snap at Thialfi.

As much as Thialfi can be a nuisance at times, he does often lighten the mood. Especially since we’ve been at sea for days without seeing any action. The mundane repetitiveness wears men’s resolve down and makes them irritable. A lot of them have become on edge, as if they are looking for any excuse to fight. Thankfully, we have a few slave whores for them to take out their frustrations on, and as much as I do not enjoy the idea of it, I can see why it is necessary.

As the days go on, I spend time in my little cabin, studying the maps and plans. Thormar often joins me. He might not be the best fighter, but he has a sharp mind. Rognvald also joins me, along with Skardi. We’ve gone over the plans over and over again. We all consider the possibility of them having more ships than we expected, but we all agree to engage and at least attempt to try our new weapon against them before we do any sort of retreat. Everyone agrees they are unlikely to pursue with their important cargo.

More days go by and the men are restless. Eager to fight. Tension grows between the men and some fights have broken out. Gunnstein nearly tossed Thialfi overboard. Thankfully, Griotgard and Solmund stopped him.

I had to get in front of Gizor when he tried to bash the Wolf pup’s skull in. I’m sure Vidkunn wouldn’t have liked that. Luckily, Greiland calmed him down enough to see reason.

The days go on and we’ve gone through more water than I have expected. I have to keep a closer watch on it.

Just when things start to boil over with tension, Skardi nearly stumbles down from the perch on top of the mass. “Ships! There are ships in the far distance.”

I grab him to pull him near. “How many?”

“A lot more than we expected. They outnumber us two to one.”

“Ornulf’s beard.” I look over to the other ships, meeting Koll’s eyes before looking over at Throst and Einar. We all seem to nod in agreement. “Let’s continue with the plan.”

Skardi nods as Rognvald blows a horn. Koll and Throst circle wide in opposite directions while Einar and we continue straight. Father’s words enter my thoughts. When the fighting begins, look east and you will find relief. What does he mean?

The ships get closer and warning shots are fired with their ballistae. They’ve got seven ships surrounding the one we’re after. “Ready your weapons and armor. Ready the ballista and slings.”

The crew scrambles, preparing for a fight as I put on my chest plate and helm and attach my weapons to my belt. “We fight our way in until we can board the ship with the prize.”

The crew roars, ready to fight. Thormar and Gadaric follow like lost pups behind me. I turn to face them. “You should stay with the ship.”

“Not a chance, brother. I’ll be right behind you,” Thormar says, even though I see the fear in his eyes.

“I am no coward,” Gadaric says. His face is stern, but the fear lingers in his eyes as well.

“Very well, stay close,” I say.

Einar and our ship get into range, and I give the signal to fire. The slings and ballistae release. Thankfully, the other ships do not have front-facing weapons. The flaming balls of grease land and, just as I thought, they try putting them out with water, making them burst in flame, catching ropes and sails on fire. To my amazement, sharks and killer whales swarm the water, tearing apart any elves that flee the flames into the sea. Is this Thora’s work? But we are still vastly outnumbered and even with our new weapons, I fear we may be defeated.

Then a horn blows in the far distance to the east. I follow the sound to see four more ships sailing towards us. Ships I recognize as our own. Viking ships. A close look and I know who they are. Athils, Steinunn, Kiogrim and Geitirgest’s ships. They’ve come to aid us and their aid is most welcomed. Father is a brilliant man. This was his plan all along. That is what he meant when he said to look to the east for relief.

Throst and Koll engage the ships to the wings as the enemy scrambles to prepare for the four newcomers. The two ships in front of us bathe in flames under the constant assault of our slings. They take less time to reload than the ballistae and can fire several rounds before one bolt is fired with the ballista. And the grease fires quickly spread throughout the ship, sinking them and clearing us a path as sharks and whales devour the victims in the water. The crew points them out. “Don’t worry, Thora has sent them to aid us. I have no doubt about it.”

They seem to accept that. All of them were there at my wedding when Sigvor prophesied the Daughter of the Sea. Some have even witnessed her strange abilities.

“Ready the hooks!” I shout. The crew scrambles to load the ballistae with the bolts that have chains attached, while others get on the opposite ballistae and slings, firing on the ships to the right of us as we prepare to board the merchant ship. Thankfully, Koll and Throst manage to grab their attention with their own flaming grease balls. Setting their ships aflame.

The four newcomers engage just as we manage to get our hooks sunk into the ship with the treasure we seek. It’s a complete slaughter as the other ships sink in flames.

“Prepare to board. Get ready for a fight!” I shout as I get ready to rush the ship, shield in hand as Joreid, Greiland, and Ingirid put the planks in place. As soon as they’re set, I charge across, collecting bolts and arrows on my shield before I ram against an elf, my blade finding a home in his thigh. I toss him aside and slash the man behind him across the chest. I can feel the amulet grow freezing cold and find an elf in robes with his glowing blue eyes wide and his mouth hanging agape in fear. I dodge a sword cutting down and stab the wielder in the throat before I charge the wizard and cut off his head, making his shocked expression permanent.

Gadaric, Gizor, Thormar, Rognvald, Gudleif, Ulf, Gunnstein, Thialfi, Skarf, Sigvid, and his two sons, Griotgard and Solmund, all follow, cutting down the ones who escaped my sword. Einar and his crew come rushing in from the other side, squashing them in a vise. The ship is by far the biggest I’ve ever seen and has five separate decks. Einar and I meet eyes and exchange nods. I signal most to head down to the second deck while Einar, Vog, Sigvid, and I charge into the door on the main deck as our men charge below.

As soon as we enter, we’re flung to the sides as a foul smell of burnt hair fills the air. What in the name of the gods…

Vog stumbles in behind us and is lifted off the ground and tossed aside. Sigvid barrels in behind and is also lifted into the air but gets pulled to the side and impaled on a blade before being tossed aside like a bone after the meat has been torn off.

“No!” I growl. I thought our amulets protect us against magic. I saw their work and felt it.

An elf with burning red eyes, holding a blade soaked in Sigvid’s blood stands behind us with another elven woman at his feet wearing a collar. Her eyes are green.

I let out a roar as I leap to my feet along with Einar and Vog, but we’re lifted into the air and suspended there. The elf gives us a sadistic grin as he steps forward. All three of us struggle to break free of his magic. What kind of magic is this to get past our amulets? It must be some kind of forbidden magic. That’s why his eyes burn red. The foul elf, I’ll make him pay. He lifts his blade, and I am pulled slowly towards it. It’s aimed at my chest. My struggling intensifies as I try to break free of his tainted magic.

I can feel it against my skin and there is a wrongness to it. The blade inches closer and closer to my chest. I can’t move my arms to stop it. I struggle to no avail.

The red eyed demon only laughs. “You fools. You dare attack me? Do you not realize who I am? I’m Ba’theas Keenreaver! Now you shall die.”

He won’t see any fear on my face. I welcome death. I’ll finally be reunited with my Arngunn. The blade comes into contact with my armor and… The blend bends, not being able to pierce my armor. I laugh and spit in his face.

The elf’s face contorts in a snarl. He then pulls back his sword to slash my exposed throat, but his head gets separated from his body as blood sprays out like a spring. Einar, Vog, and I drop to the floor, released from the magic as Trandil stands behind the elf, covered in his blood, his hand shaking with a blood-stained sword.

“Never have I ever been so happy to see you, boy!” Einar says just as the boy’s eyes roll back into his head and he falls backward, unconscious. “For the love of the gods. The boy saves our lives and then shames himself.”

“I’m not complaining,” I say, looking down at my chest plate. Not even a scratch. Thank the gods for this glow metal.

“What should we do with the collared elf?” Vog asks.

“Let the boy have her. He’s earned her,” I say as I step over him and out of the cabin. It seems the fighting is all over. I head down below to find Thormar in a side room with a dead boy at his feet, around his own age. A naked woman with skin as dark as night stands huddled on the ground in front of him. She looks like she just got whipped. He offers her his hand, and she reluctantly takes it. I look at the dead and sigh. “Don’t tell me that’s the lordling we’re after, Thormar?”

He looks back at me with the woman in his arms. “I had no choice, brother. He attacked, and I killed him.”

I sigh. There goes our ransom. I head down to the next deck to find the men sorting through the slaves to be sold. Gizor drags a struggling elven woman behind him with her hands bound in front of her. “I’m going to fuck this one real good.”

I pity her, but I… I see her face and my heart stops. Arngunn? It can’t be, but it is her face. There’s no doubt about it. Even though her eyes glow bright blue and are full of tears, she has the same cute, little nose and delicate chin. And her cheeks are nice and soft, just like Arni’s. Is it really her?

“Stop!” Gizor looks up at me, questioning. “Get another one. This one is mine.”

“But… Skipper. I want to fuck this one,” he says with a look of disappointment.

“Does the Captain not get the first claim?” I ask.

He reluctantly nods. “Besides, you weren’t going to claim here, just fuck her, weren’t you?”

He shrugs and nods. “Slaves are too costly to keep. But can’t I just have a go at her and then you can take her?”

“No! She is mine! You can find another to bone,” I say and he sighs, handing her over. I grab her and look down into those bright, shimmering, blue eyes. They’re full of fear, yet there’s a glimmer of hope in them. It’s as if I’m staring right into Arngunn’s face. How can this be? I know this can’t be her, but it really feels like it is.

But just then, a loud crash goes off behind us further down the deck. I barely get a second to look to see the wizard jump up and send a wicked, hot wind. I barely have time to shove Arni out of the way before I’m sent back, barreling into a beam. A foul scent ascends into the air. A scent I’ve smelled before with the wizard on the main deck. I pull myself up to my knees as I see the wizard walking toward me. His eyes burn red. For the sake of the gods, not this again.

He yanks me into the air, suspending me before him and as he walks closer a tight force wraps around my neck, strangling me.

Before I realize it, Arni stabs a dagger deep into the weasel-face wizard’s neck. She quickly let’s go and backs away as I fall to the ground, gasping for air.

Blood gushes out of the wizard elf’s neck as he drops to the ground, holding his throat. Life leaves his eyes as he goes limp. Arni goes to grab the dagger, but I pull her aside, putting myself between the wizard dying on the ground and Arni. I look back at her, realizing I’ve been thinking of her as Arni, but she’s an elf… She just looks like her. It must be some kind of magic or something. Even so, there’s something more to her… I feel like I’ve known her before. Not as Arni, but as someone else. Someone in my dreams. A woman with that same golden hair and shimmering blue eyes. Just like Arni. And yet, I feel a bit of caution. She just stabbed that wizard in the neck with a dagger. Where did she get it? Does she have another one? She could’ve used it on me. I am under no illusion that she is Arni. This elf is willing to kill. Arni would never…

I yank the dagger out of the wizard’s neck and clean it off on his robes. I tuck it into my belt. Then I check her for more weapons. She struggles and pushes me away. “Don’t touch me.”

“Hey Bothvar, you’ll want to see this,” Skardi says. I walk down to the next deck and gasp in amazement. Skardi kneels down in front of an open chest full of gold coins. Behind him, the deck is stacked from floor to ceiling with similar chests.

“By Ornulf’s beard. Father was right. This is more gold than we’ve ever seen before.”

“Shall we start hauling it over?” Skardi asks.

“No. That will take too long. We’ll just take the ship itself. It’s still sailable,” I say.

“That is wise,” Skardi says as he pockets a rather large ruby.

I drag the woman up the stairs to find Thormar carrying his dark-skinned woman as she clings to him.

I meet Einar on the Main deck as a wobbling Trandil stands behind him holding onto the leash of the elven slave.

“I see you found yourself a prize,” Einar says before his eyes narrow as he stares at her face. He mumbles under his breath. “Ornulf’s beard.”

Does he see it too? Does he see that she looks like Arngunn? I can’t be the only one. It can’t be all in my head. I shake the thought. “I have the crews securing the ship. We’ll take it back with us. There’s enough gold to make everyone rich after father takes his share.”

“You don’t say,” Einar says, shaking his head as a grin appears.

“The bottom deck is filled from floor to ceiling with chests of gold and gems.” Einar’s eyes go wide and drool slips from his lips.

“Signal for the other ships to turn around. Let’s secure the ship as fast as we can and make haste for home.” He nods as he gives orders to his crew. I drag the elven woman behind me as I cross over to my ship and head into my quarters. Then I take a chain attached to the wall and secure it to her collar with enough slack to let her sleep in the bed. I can’t stop staring at her face. Why does she look so much like the one I love? Have I lost my mind? What does it all mean?

To be continued in Book 2 of Seasons of the Cycle: Shattered Souls.

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Bothvar Beorcolsson

After we grab a bite to eat, we spend the rest of the day, making preparations

The day goes by slowly. More double-checking everything. More talking. And more planning and more lectures.

By the time we finish, the sun has gone to bed. Then father sends me out to check everything we’ve already checked more than a dozen times. Even more time checking the boat. Going over the supplies. Checking the water. And on and on.

I finally get a big plate of food from Semet back at the hall before mother comes scrambling in. “Have you seen Svala? I can’t find her anywhere.”

After grabbing a leg of smoked turkey, I walk out of the hall with a sigh. Giving the air a sniff, I look at the ground to see a tiny boot print that has to be hers. I follow it all the way to a side gate out to the south that was added during the rebuild. I continue to follow her tracks and gain her scent. A smell of that nauseating oil she puts on that gives off a sharp fruity smell.

I follow the path through the woods until it stops at a large tree. The tracks completely disappear. I walk all the way around the tree and find no more footprints. They just end at the tree. I look at the tree and see a ladder built into the tree. Looking up, there’s a house built on the tree. How have I never noticed this? I try to climb up it but the ladder breaks. The trap door opens up and Svala’s head shoots out. “You wool-brained goat. The ladder can’t support our weight!”

“How did you get up there?” I ask.

“I climbed the branches. These types of trees are the only ones strong enough to support our weight after we got strong in the mountains,” she yells down at me.

“Huh, never thought about trees holding our weight,” I say, scratching my beard. I put my thoughts aside and climb the tree. I get up inside and barely fit. Svala has to squeeze over.

She pulls her knees against her chest and gives me a dirty look. “What are you doing here? Finally, have time to talk to your little sister?”

“What are you talking about? I always have time to talk to you,” I say.

“You rarely ever have time to talk to me. Growing up, you and Thorkel were always off by yourselves and never took any of us with you. Thormar never wanted to hang out with us either because he thought he was too old. He wanted to be like you and Thorkel. For most of the time, it was only just Bodvar and me. Now it’s just me… And Thora. Sometimes. She’s a bit odd sometimes.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Well, she spends a lot of time at the docks. I used to go out with her when she was younger, but she’s always out there and I don’t really want to spend all my time there.” She continues to ramble on as I struggle to figure out what it means that Thora is out there. Is she talking to those whales? Can she really talk to whales? Should I be worried? This sorta stuff is what a mother is for. I am not prepared to handle it. She’s just a little girl. She shouldn’t be out on the docks alone like that, but I can’t blame Svala. Svala is not far off from being old enough to be on the ships. Yet, I can’t help feeling that she’s safe on the docks. I can’t forget the time she fell in and was saved by that whale. I’ve seen those things kill men that fall overboard during raids.

“I just feel so alone without Bodvar.” Svala’s words bring me back to the moment. I look into her eyes to see such sadness.

“Svala, I understand your pain. I miss him too, but he will be back faster than you know it. The Wolves will beg for Gadaric back once they get stuck all winter with Bodvar. The gods only know the trouble that is in store for the Wolves.”

She laughs. “Yeah, he’ll have them looking under every seat and watching out above the doors.”

I snicker, remembering some of Bodvar’s most infamous pranks. “Especially the time he put a bucket of ice-cold sea water above Thormar’s door only for mother to walk through it. He was doing slave work for an entire season.”

She snorts from laughing so hard. “Such a cow turd. You know, Gadaric is nothing like him. But he’s not that bad. Rather friendly.”

A thought just occurred to me. I got Bodvar all excited to sleep with Vidkunn’s daughters, which would be Gadaric’s sisters. What if his brothers talked him into wanting to try to sleep with my sister?

I better keep an eye on that boy. No Wolf is going to sleep with my sister! I’ll have to sick Thora on him. She’ll teach him a lesson or two.

Thankfully, he’s coming out on the raid and won’t be anywhere near Svala. Bastard Wolves. “I’d watch out for Gadaric if I were you. You can’t trust a Wolf. Always up to something.”

She laughs. “Don’t be like father. The Wolves are not so bad.”

Ornulf’s beard, I’m too late. They’ve got their hooks into Svala. I’m going to chop Gadaric’s dick off. Bastard. “Now I wish Bodvar was here even more.”

She looks at me. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing. But if he were here, he’d already have the Wolf pup sleeping with one eye open,” I say.

“You really hate them, don’t you?” she asks.

“Me? I don’t hate them. I just don’t trust Gadaric. He’s not to be trusted!” At least around Svala, but I am not going to tell her that. I may be a fool, but I am not fool enough to incur a woman’s wrath. Even if she is my little sister.

“And why can’t we trust him, exactly?” she asks, leaning in.

“Ask, father. He knows why,” I say.

She narrows her eyes. “Why can’t you tell me?”

Donkey’s ass. How do I get out of this trap of hers? “If you don’t know why by now, then you are not very good at figuring things out.”

That gets her stubbornness to kick in. Her eyes turn into flames, but she doesn’t ask another question. “I’ll figure it out. I’m better than anyone here at figuring things out. You just wait and see.”

She gets up and jumps down the trapdoor, jumping from branch to branch. I jump out and slam right through the first branch and break through the rest of them on my way down. “You hairy, goats shit for brains cow pusher! You broke my way up! Nikolas is going to be pissed. I’m telling him you did it.”

“What…” I groan as I lie on the ground covered in broken branches. That hurt. The breath was forced out of my chest and I can’t get it back in.

Slowly, I force myself on my side and push myself to my feet. “Wait… Who’s Nikolas?”

She’s already halfway to the gate and I have to rush, enduring the pain shooting up my back to catch up with her. “Who’s Nikolas? And where did that fort come from? It wasn’t there when I was last out here.”

“Nickolas is from the Builder Clan. He’s our closest friend. And he built that tree fort and the rest of them,” she says as she grabs a hidden key for the side gate and pushes her way in.

That is a serious breach in our defense. “Where did you get that key? And why hide it there?”

“Bodvar made one at Aldam’s forge and he hid it there for us to use,” she says.

“That clever little fox,” I say.

She snorts a laugh as we head through the streets and alleys of Stormfront until we head into the Hall. Mother attacks us immediately. “Svala, where have you been? I’ve been worried sick. And Bothvar, you’re all dirty. Are those leaves in your beard? And there’s a twig coming out of your hair! What have you two been doing?”

“Nothing mother,” Svala says.

“Nothing at all,” I add.

“You need to take a bath. Semet. Come here please,” mother says as the slave rushes over.

She stands up straight in front of my mother with a look of admiration for the woman. “Will you do me a big favor and make sure my son takes a bath? Drag him to the bathhouse by his dirty beard if you must. He smells like shit and is about to be out at sea for only gods know how long, and I want to make sure he at least gets one good bath beforehand.”

Semet nods emphatically. “Yes, my lady. I will do as you ask. He will not go to bed until he has a bath.”

Mother smiles and nods. “I can always count on you.”

Semet grabs my arm and practically drags me out of the hall and into the bathhouse. “I saved your food for you, by the way. It is in your room.”

“Thanks,” I mumble. I’m so tired. I could fall asleep standing.

“And thank you for earlier. I appreciate what you did for me,” she says as she looks up at me with those sweet, innocent, glowing green eyes.

“Yeah, sure,” I say as we walk into the bathhouse. She then takes my clothes off. “Woah, what are you doing?”

“Lady Thorkatla asked me to give you a bath,” she says with a sincere expression.

“I think she just meant for you to make sure I get a bath, not literally bathe me,” I say.

“No, her instructions were very clear. Earlier she told me to wash you down even if I have to drag you here myself. I will do exactly as she asks, and I promised her that you wouldn’t sleep until you bathe and I meant it,” she says, fervently nodding her head. Those emerald illuminated eyes were on fire with determination.

“Why are you so loyal to my mother?” I ask.

“Because she has made me feel at home here. Even though I was but a child, I was to be sold as a slave to the whorehouse in Chillshore so the army and workers could have their share of me. Instead, I was taken by your people, and your mother took me in and treated me like I was one of her children. She protected me against men who’d want to force themselves onto me just like you have, and I can honestly say she truly cares about me. That’s more than what I could ever hope for. Besides, she gave me a friend in Arngunn. A woman who became the closest thing I’ve ever known to a sister. I’ve been quite lost without her,” she says as her eyes drift away, full of a hopeless sadness.

I nod. “I understand.”

She turns away from me and takes off her clothes. My eyes go wide as I stare at her tight little behind before I quickly turn around. Why did she just get naked? “What’s wrong?”

I turn my head in her direction. “You’re naked.”

“Isn’t that what a bathhouse is for? I can’t go in there with my clothes on,” she says.

“I guess you are right, I don’t know what I was thinking,” I say as I try not to stare at her beautiful naked body. It just feels wrong staring at her. My heart belongs to Arngunn and always will. She was one of Arni’s closest friends. I can’t be ogling at this woman, no matter how beautiful she is. One day I will die and be reunited with Arngunn. I do not want my reunion to be tainted by sleeping with another woman, especially a woman who was so close to Arni.

She takes my hand and leads me into the pool of water. I’m pushed down on the bench as she takes a cloth and wipes down my skin. “Your mother is very worried about you.”

I look up into those compassionate green eyes. “She thinks you’re drowning in the loss of those who’ve passed away.”

“And what do you think?” I ask.

She pauses as she looks into my eyes. “Arngunn is a woman worth losing yourself in. I owe her much and valued her kindness, and I miss her so much. I can’t imagine how hard it has been for you. It has certainly been hard for me. After she died, I was lost. I still am, but your mother took me back and has been helping me come to terms. She said that keeping your mind busy helps lessen the pain of loss. So, I’ve been trying my best to stay busy. To be of use, but it is hard.”

She bites her lip as she closes her eyes. Then she opens them to meet mine. “I don’t know how you do it. You keep fighting on and on while staying so loyal to her. All I can think about is how much it hurts without her. She was my entire life. I don’t know what to do without her. Your mother told me to tend to you. She said maybe we can help each other’s hearts live again.”

She then continues to wash me, pausing with every scar she comes across. The look of worry burdens her eyes. “Is that why you are here? To help my heart live again?”

“If that is what you wish. I would certainly be willing to try,” she says as she kneels down to wash my calves and feet.

“I don’t think there is anything you can do to help with that. My heart is Arngunn’s and always will be. I don’t think I can give my broken heart to another. There’s nothing left of it. At least not in my chest. It’s in Arni’s hands. One day I will be reunited with her and finally feel it beating back in my chest. I won’t let myself go astray with another and taint our reunion,” I say as I peer into her eyes to make sure she understands. 

She nods, avoiding my gaze. “I understand and I admire that. You’re a good man, Bothvar. It pains me knowing I might not see her again if I’m not allowed into the halls of your gods.”

I chew on my lip as I remember what I told her when we were just children the day father brought her back from raiding. I told her that her parents were in Niflheim suffering because they were not of our faith and they would never be in the halls of the gods. How could I say such things? I was such a fool boy.

She finishes washing me in silence before we dry off and walk back to the hall without speaking. Before we walk in, I take her hand and look into those glowing, green eyes. “No one knows for certain what may come after this life. Who knows, maybe you will find your place next to Arni and me, wherever it may be. I hope that is true.”

She smiles and hugs me. I hesitantly wrap my arms around her and hold her for a long time before we break apart. She wipes the tears from her cheeks before we walk back in. “And Semet, you’re more than welcome to stay in my room while we’re out at sea. If anyone gives you trouble for it, tell my mother. I’ll speak with her before I go.”

She nods, biting her lip as her face blooms red. Then we head inside. I eat the food she left me in my room before I finally get some sleep.

—

As morning finally comes, I am up and ready. We’ve made the last checks and are all ready to set out. I say my farewell to my family. My mother pulls me into her arms as if I were a little boy once more.

My father gives me a hug even a bear couldn’t match. “Just remember this, son. When the fighting begins, look east and you will find relief.”

Once again, my father loves to leave his last words in riddles. I nod and act as if I know exactly what he’s talking about.

Svala tries to act tough, but tears stroll down her eyes. She relents and buries herself into my chest. I pat her head and whisper into her ear. “Just one more season and you’ll be joining me.”

That gets a smile. “You just wait, brother. I’ll be the greatest Viking there is and I will make you proud.”

“I don’t doubt it,” I say with a smile as Thormar trails behind me. My mother doesn’t seem to want to let him go.

My Aunt Sigvor gives me another big hug. “Take care of yourself and make sure you wear the protection we’ve made. I will not see you harmed. Got it?”

I nod and smile. She returns it. “Good. Watch after your brother and make sure my sister does nothing stupid. Ingithora has always been such a risk taker.”

I laugh and nod. I look around but don’t see the little one. “Where is Thora?”

The others look around as well, but then I spot her. She staggers over under the weight of three giant packs. “Wait for me! I’m coming and you can’t stop me.”

“If she’s coming, so am I,” Svala says as she turns to go back to the hall but is stopped by my mother.

I roll my eyes, but a laugh escapes my lips. “Neither of you are old enough to come. Besides, who will stay to watch after the old folks? Someone needs to keep them on their toes and make trouble.”

Thora drops her packs. “But… It is my destiny. I’m supposed to be a Viking, just like my father. Besides, you need me! Who’s going to make sure you don’t do stupid things?”

I sigh as I walk up to the little girl and kneel down. “Thora. You know I can’t take you with me. Not yet. You’re nearly there. Just be patient. You still need to learn and grow before you can come. But don’t worry. There will be plenty more raids that you can conquer. You are destined to be a great Viking, but not yet. Besides, someone needs to stay here and keep Svala company. She needs you, and so do your grandfather and grandmother. And don’t forget about Aunt Sigvor. They all need you. You have to stay here and protect them. Okay?”

She wipes her tears away. “But I want to go with you.”

I take a breath and pat her head. “I know. I wish you could come too, and one day you will come with me, but not this day. Will you do me a favor?”

She shrugs. “What favor?”

“Will you stay here and look after our family? Protect them and make sure they do not do stupid things. Will you do that for me?”

She looks over at them before meeting my eyes. She nods. “I guess so. I suppose I can do that. But I swear, you better take me next time. Okay?”

“I don’t know about next time, but if you train really hard and prove to me you are ready, maybe we’ll see. Will that be, okay?”

She sighs. “I guess.”

I smile and mess up her hair. “Good. Now do not get lazy and weak while I am gone. And don’t let Svala laze around either. The both of you practice your fighting and force the old man to teach you his secret ultimate tactics. Maybe if you learn enough, we can make exceptions.”

“Really?” she asks.

I nod.

“Okay. I promise Svala and I will work so hard that we’ll finally beat you when you get back.”

I smile and nod. “I don’t believe it, but I hope you prove me wrong.”

She leaps into my chest and gives me a hug. “I will, I promise.”

I see Svala catch Thormar with a good knee to the thigh as they break apart from a hug, nearly dropping him, and I snicker before I whisper something into Thora’s ear. A wide grin appears on her face.

Thormar recovers and gets a hug from Sigvor before he goes to Thora. He’s very weary at this point and hesitates to give her a hug. Thora, on the other hand, puts on a very innocent baby face, pushing out her bottom lip. “I’m going to miss you, Uncle Thorma. Are you going to bring me back a gift? Bothvar said he will.”

“Of course, I will,” he says with a smile.

She nods approvingly. “Good, now give me a hug!”

He leans down and gives her a hug, but just as they break apart, she gives him a swift kick to the jewels and drops him. Both Svala and I burst out laughing.

“Bothvar! Seriously?” Mother says with a look that could put a draugr back into its grave.

I only shrug. Then I pick up Thormar from the ground. “Come on, little brother. We have to be off.”

We board the ship, and I take a roll call. Once I’m sure everyone is here, including the Wolf pup who has seen fit to bring his little cat pet. We set sail with Koll, Einar, and Throst’s ships at our side.

I catch Thormar looking back as both Svala and Thora stand at the end of the docks. Then something I don’t expect happens. Thora leaps into the water, sending my heart into my throat. “Thora!”

Suddenly she emerges on the back of one of those whales. The black and white killers of the sea and it races up next to us. “What in the name of the gods, girl!”

The men are all wide-eyed as they watch her, just as stunned as I am. Even mother, father, and Sigvor scramble to the end of the docks with the jaws dragging at their feet.

I hear whispers among my men. All seem to say the same thing. The Daughter of the Sea.

I shout at her. “Thora. What are you doing?”

“I want to see you off.”

“Go back, you crazy little girl.”

“Ahhh, but…”

“No buts! Have your whale take you back!”

“Okay… Come on, Kyki, let’s go back to the docks,” she says, patting the whale on the back. It turns around and heads back to the docks. That crazy girl. I watch in amazement as she’s delivered to the docks. She says something to the whale before she’s pulled off by my father and mother. That’s when I notice there are several other whales following behind. They start to follow us. How can she do that? She talks to them as if they were people and they listen. She truly is the Daughter of the Sea, but what does that mean?

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Lura Syllana

I barricade myself within my room and attempt to bury myself in my bed. I can’t even go down the halls without being shamed. They call me a whore, a witch for corrupting Orym, and worse. They think I should be banished from the church. That I am some kind of demon and that’s the only reason I was able to pass so easily through the ranks.

I don’t care about any of them. I want nothing to do with this place anymore. I hate it here. It used to be a place I wanted to call home and now it’s become my own personal hell. The Light evades me, and all I find is darkness.

I just want it to all end. I just want to be back with Orym.

I have no more strength left inside me to carry on anymore. When night arrives and the cathedral is all but asleep, I head out to the halls to the place where the names of the fallen are written in stone. I find Orym’s name and trace my fingers over the engraved letters. “I can’t bear it any longer, my love. I don’t want to endure this pain anymore. I realize I don’t really want to die; I just want relief. I just want to be reunited with you, but that cannot happen within this life. Maybe it can happen in the next, whatever that may bring.”

“Lura…” I turn around to see Ralodan walking up to me. “You’re in so much pain…”

He walks up to me, but that smile that always brought so much warmth is nowhere to be found. “It hurts me to see you like this.”

“There’s nothing you can do,” I say, pulling my eyes away.

“Maybe not, but I will not stand by while people hurt. I, too, know what it feels like to find that your heart wants to love. It is wrong to forbid such things,” he says as walks up to the stone monuments and looks at the names engraved upon them. “I am in love with Melyis, and I will not let these laws forbid it of me. Neither can I let you be broken by them. It is not the way of the Light. This I know in my heart. And I can see the hypocrisy within the church. Not many abide by this rule yet only a few are punished for breaking it. It’s unjust and unfair. Neither you nor Orym deserved this fate, and it angers me to see you endure it. Anger isn’t something I’m used to feeling. It is foreign to me and I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” I say.

He turns to look me in the eye. “Stand with me and fight this injustice. Help me change the rules and strike it down. Maybe it is too late for Orym, but that doesn’t mean we can’t honor him by righting this wrong.”

I look away. “There’s nothing we can do about it. We are but mere Accepted. Who are we to say what is the law?”

“Well, you are. I became a Brother not that long ago while you were grieving. But regardless, we are servants of the Light. That means we do what is right in the name of the Light. Don’t give up hope. You may never find love again, but you can still honor the one you gave your heart to.”

“I don’t know… You’re asking a lot of me, and I just don’t have anything left inside of me,” I say.

“I can understand, but promise me this; you must not give up. Don’t give in to the dark. Stay strong and live on. Live for Orym. Live for your family,” he says. His words seem to spark a light of hope inside me. My family… How could I forget about them? My entire purpose was to free them, yet even that seems so far out of reach. I can’t even bring myself to see the flow anymore.

I look up at Ralodan. “I will try, but I can’t make any promises.”

“That is good enough for me. Now go get some rest. It is late,” he says.

I nod, and he gives me that warm smile of his. I head back to my room and find Chalia sitting on my bed. She gets up when I enter and hugs me. “Oh, thank the light. I thought you went and did something drastic. I was worried sick about you.”

She squeezes me tightly, then lets up, but holds onto my shoulders. “Don’t listen to those awful nobles. They’re the ones who are spreading the rumors. But the strays will have your back. We won’t abandon you. You’re still one of us, and besides, none of them can see Terel’s message, but you can. That means you’re more worthy than they are.”

I wipe away the tears and hug her again. “Thanks, Chalia.”

“Of course, and… Lura… I have something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” she says as she pulls back.

I look up and meet her eyes. “You can tell me anything.”

“I kinda feel like a hypocrite. Or as if I betrayed you. I don’t know,” she says as she tears her eyes away from me.

“What are you talking about?” I ask, a little confused.

“I’ve been in an intimate relationship with Damaris for a really long time now,” she says, leaving my jaw hanging.

“But… She’s a Sister and you’re an Accepted. She recruited you and… But… Damaris… She wouldn’t…”

Chalia lets out a sigh and meets my eyes. “It’s not what you think. I’ve known Damaris all my life. My father took her in when she was just a child a long, long time ago. Before I was even born. Of course, I’m just a bastard child, so… yeah. She was an orphan and my father and my step-mother… or should I say my father’s wife. She was never really a mother to me since I was the child of an affair my father had with another woman… But Damaris was the daughter of my father’s friend, and her parents died during the fighting when King Volodar left or before. I don’t know the exact details of what happened since it was long before I was born, but despite that, she practically raised me. We were close growing up, both misfits. She wasn’t exactly accepted by my father’s wife, but she was tolerated, unlike me, and she always looked after me.”

A smile forms on Chalia’s lips as twirls a strand of hair around her finger. “Like an older sister at times. She helped me get my magic permit and taught me nearly everything I know. When my father died and I lost everything, she helped me find my feet again. She helped me find a place to stay. We grew even closer after my father’s death and one thing led to another. We fell in love with each other, not that we didn’t have a love for each other before, it was just different. Of course, she was always reluctant at first because she was with the church and you know the rules about relationships, but she knew just like I knew that this love wasn’t wrong. Of course, she finally convinced me that if we were really going to be together, I also had to join the church, so I did. And here I am.”

Her eyes wander around the room, avoiding my own. I can’t blame her nor Damaris for their feelings for each other. It’s even laughable to think I could. Not in a funny way. Who am I to judge someone else’s heart? “I understand. Your secret is safe with me.”

She hugs me rather hard. “I knew I could trust you.”

I look into her eyes. “So, your father knew my grandfather, then? Didn’t he?”

“I don’t know what my father knew. Even though he was kind to me and always treated me well, he never told me much of anything. In fact, I rarely ever got to spend time with him. His wife never wanted me around. He died before we could ever really get to know one another.”

“That’s so sad,” I say, and this time I pull her into a hug.

She breaks off not long after. “It is in the past and I am over it.”

She meets my gaze once more. “I just wanted to tell you that you are not alone, and that we, all the strays, stand with you.”

“Thank you, Chalia. I couldn’t have asked for a better friend. No, a better sister,” I say and we embrace once more.

—

I don’t walk through the halls alone anymore, but my friends walk with me. My pain still hurts, but it is made bearable with the support of my fellow strays. Even more so, I feel the will to fight return inside me. A glimmer of hope reignites the flames that nearly went out inside me. I find myself coming back to life.

I hold tight to it and go back to my training. Ralodan is right. We must always fight for what is right. I return to practicing my shields. At first, it is hard to find that flow. It is so hard to let go. To let go of the pain and the hurt. To let go of all that has been done to me and those I care about, but somehow, I find it within myself to do just that. I let go of it all and find the flow once more. I weave the Light into a shield and pure, warm yellow light with Arcane Fire, Celestial Life, and the Divine Light. It is made strong not because it is pure, but because it holds within it the strengths of three lights.

I bask in its intensity and breathe in the power of these lights. I take the shield and pull it within me. Feel the energy fill me. A mix of emotions washes over me as I embrace each light. I feel so strong. Stronger than before. But finally, I let go of the flow and the lights. The hollowness returns. I take in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. I wish I could hold the Light always.

In the small chamber, I’ve occupied to practice, I feel I am no longer alone. I turn to meet someone I wasn’t expecting. The High Father. He sends his guards to wait outside, so it is just us. “I knew you looked familiar. I never forget a face.”

My skin crawls as he closes the distance between us like a spider creeping towards its prey. “You were one of the whores at the brothel. I remember you. I had my eye on you then.”

“What do you want?” I ask suspiciously, taking a step back.

“Oh, I think you know what I want,” he says, his grin turning rather sadistic. “I have an appetite for women like you. Little whores.”

“I am not a whore,” I say.

“Oh, don’t deny it. Besides, do me a favor and I can help you rise here. But cross me and I can be your worst nightmare.” His greedy grin turns into an utterly terrifying scowl, but the grin returns. “I am the High Father after all.”

I can smell his taint as he closes the gap between us and his hand goes up to my chest. Without hesitating, I slap him hard enough to send his face sideways. He growls and sneers as he wheels on me. “You dirty whore! You think I can’t ruin you? I’ve done it to so many whores before you. I can have you in chains. Either way, I will take what I want regardless of what it will cost you.”

A surge of burning hot energy burns inside of me as I send him flying back, slamming against the wall. Everything happens so quickly after that. Guards rush into the room. The High Father screams and shouts for them to arrest me. I feel the Light burn within me as I fight them off, but a force of overwhelming red, hot taint storms through the chamber and slams me to the ground. It feels so dirty and unholy, smelling foul. It forces me to my knees as a figure walks into the chamber with eyes burning red. His voice seems to burn through the room. “What is going on here?”

The High Father is on his knees, pleading with the figure. “It wasn’t my fault, forgive me. I confronted the bastard girl, and she attacked me.”

The burning hot red light seems to fade, and I gasp as I see Father Fylson Greran in the middle of it, standing above the High Father. His face is contorted with anger and disgust, and it looks wrong. “Lies. Once again, Arbelladon, your lust has made a mess for us. This will be the last time I clean up for you. Next time, we will replace you and find someone more suitable for the task.”

“Lord, what should we do with the girl?” a guard asks.

His burning, hateful eyes land upon me. “Put a collar on her and sell her to the humans in Chillshore. They’ll put the whore to good use. They are always in need of whores to keep the spirits up of the men who work the mines, and that will get her out of our hair.”

Before I can protest, a collar is wrapped around my neck, and a wall forms between me and the energies inside me, leaving me weak. I scream out with tears falling from my eyes. “No!”

Father Fylson walks away without another word. The High Father quickly gets up and dusts himself off, trying to reclaim any dignity he has before he walks up to me and backhands me. “Consider yourself lucky, whore. If I had my way, I would do things to you that would make the things those men in Chillshore will do to you feel like a mercy.”

He looks over at the guards. “Search her and find everything she has on her possession.”

The men don’t hesitate, nearly stripping me to find only a letter. Thankfully, they do not even think about searching for invisible objects. But my heart leaps into my throat when I see what letter the High Father snatches into his hands. Orym’s letter. “No!”

A cruel grin lights up the High Father’s face. “What is this… A love letter?”

He laughs as he holds it in front of my face and I watch in tears as it burns to ashes. “Now take her to the Golden High Elf Trading Company and have her placed on the first ship to Chillshore. The humans will have a good time with her, lucky bastards.”

I’m dragged through the halls of the Cathedral in chains as Brothers, Sisters, Accepted and Novice walk out of the rooms and chambers, wide-eyed and slacked-jawed to witness. I just hang my head in shame.

“What’s going on?” that familiar voice echoes. I lift my head to see Chalia walk up with the rest of the strays including Ralodan, Biremeril, and Melyis.

“You can’t do this!” Ralodan says, stepping forward.

“Out of the way,” one of the men who’s dragging me out says, pushing Ralodan out of the way.

“Is this what the Light calls for? Dragging an innocent girl out in chains!” Ralodan responds.

“These are the orders of the High Father,” the man responds. They continue to drag me through the halls and out of the Cathedral.

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Bothvar Beorcolsson

I try to get some sleep, but Thora, Svala, and Thormar make that impossible. I can hardly fall asleep before one of them comes rumbling in. Thormar bursts into my room telling me about some bizarre invention of his that has to do with sea water and how he wants to install it on our ship. I don’t listen. I had to throw a chalice at him to leave me alone.

I barely have enough time to collapse on my bed before Svala comes in.

She came into my room to hide from Thormar because she stole his maps. She’s smiling from ear to ear, pushing me over as she makes enough room to sit down. “Thormar is a total page-turner. He has all these stupid books, and he doesn’t even know how to read. I know it. He just looks at the pictures. I know he does. I know it like I know my ax. And I know my ax really well. I made it. That’s why I’m going to steal every single one of them and hide them all over the house. It may not be as clever as Bodvar’s pranks, but someone’s got to something. Without Bodvar here, it just feels so quiet.”

“Svala, he’s only been gone a day. Not even. I don’t even know. I just want to sleep.”

She sighs and then groans. “Fine. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Thank you. We will talk about it when I get up,” I say. What did she even say again? I don’t know. I just want to get some sleep.

When I finally fall asleep, in comes Thora to inform me it was dawn as if that has any importance to me at all. Then she tried to get me to spar with her. She didn’t even go to sleep, just stayed up the entire night. Crazy kid. I finally get her to go to bed. My head falls to the pillow and my eyelids sink to the bottom of my eyes. Thoughts are heavy. I… I…

“Bothvar? Why aren’t you up yet? You’re my ship’s Skipper, you can’t sleep in,” my father says as he stands at the door.

“Sleep in? I haven’t even got any sleep to begin with.” I try to cover my face with my pillow and fall asleep. Thankfully my father walks off mumbling.

I just need a few more moments. I just want to rest my eyes and sleep…

I plunge face first into the ice-cold sea, breaking right through the ice. The bone-chilling cold freezes deep to the bone as I open my eyes and stumble out of bed. “What the bloody goat shitting, banshee, is going on!”

I let the words out right before my head smacks into the floor. “Bastard, son of a whore!”

“Who the blazes…” I finally look up to see my father standing there with an empty bucket.

“You can’t sleep in when you’re the Skipper. Come on. You’ve got a lot to do today to get ready for your raid tomorrow. Get up.” He walks off. Bloody bastard.

I pull myself up and get dressed. Thankfully, I just had a bath.

I walk out to slaves scrambling everywhere carrying barrels, totes, chests, and setting up food. I push my way through and find my father outside, smelling the air. “What I would give to go out raiding one more time. I might not be forbidden from raiding, but as Earl I have far too many responsibilities and duties here to spend that much time out at sea. Especially with a potential war looming over our heads. Lots of preparations to make. Do me a favor son: come back alive, and bring your younger brother back as well.”

I nod. “Of course, father. I won’t let you down this time.”

He nods. “Well, let’s get to it. Much to do today. You’ll need to double-check the supplies of the ship and get them counted at least three or four times. Double check you have enough water, food, and ammunition. Bolts and now your grease fireballs. That was brilliant, by the way. You fling them burning on an enemy ship and as soon as they try to put it out with water, it blows up in their face. I must give you credit son; you’re reminding me more and more of my younger self every day.”

“I only figured that out after trying to put a grease fire out with water myself. I admit I nearly burnt my beard to cinders.”

My father laughs. “That’s how you learn, my son. And you have learned much, but you still have much to learn. Now, once we finish triple-checking the supply of the ship, we meet with each of the crew and make sure they’re ready. If they have any nervousness, we need to assure them everything will be just fine. On the other hand, if they’re overly excited, we need to calm them down. And under no circumstances do you let them drink. You don’t want anyone with the mug sickness in the morning. And be careful about drinking out at sea. Especially if you ever run out of water. Too much booze makes people dehydrated, and that gets them sick.”

I nod, clinging to the waking world with only a few fingers. “No drink… got it. Is that what you meant with the wine?”

He smirks but continues on. “After we finish talking to the crew, we check on the slaves who’ll join you on your raids. The oarsmen, the ones who do all the grunt work, and a woman or two to relieve tension among the men. Just keep an eye on the men who take their wives with them and the ones who keep them here at home. Some of them will get a little too friendly with a slave girl, and that’s how fights erupt. Some men are too driven by their cocks. They do stupid things like fuck another woman when they think their wife is sleeping. Let me tell ya something, Bothvar. When Audbjorg caught Gudleif on top of that slave, I’m surprised she didn’t cut his cock off. Gizor, Greiland, and Turid had to hold her back. I’m surprised they didn’t all join her. I could tell her siblings wanted to. Turid was on the fence.”

“I’ll make sure no humping whores,” I say as I mindlessly follow. I am going to go to bed earlier tonight and make sure my door is barred, and I’ll even move a couple of chests in front of it. Maybe my glow metal hammer. I need to come up with a better-sounding name for it. It has an identical twin that Shuli wore on her back. It makes me happy to know the hammer is in good hands. Deserving hands. I pray it stays in Longhorn’s line, or I mean, Ukam’s.

I listen as we go over the supplies one more time. I can’t believe Shuli has children. One of them looks just like her. Same blue eyes and white fur. Well, they all have white fur, but few have those blue eyes or that scent. Although, Shuli’s cub smells far different from Shuli herself. Shuli smells like death and shadow stench. They just smell like dirt and a musky cave.

We then meet with each crew member as they work hard to get everything ready. Sigvid and his sons and my friends Solmund and Griotgard along with Skardi all work to double check the ship’s fortitude. “Aye, Bothvar, you missed out on a good time. The Builders had some surprisingly feisty women. Ain’t that right, brother?”

Solmund shrugs.  Skardi laughs. “Feisty is one word to describe them. They also had that herb we had that one time.”

Solmund gets defeated by the smile he can’t hold back. “Griotgard certainly got more than he bargained for.”

“Boys, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to tell Bothvar all about your conquests. Now’s time to focus on preparations,” Sigvid says as he nods at my father.

“How’s the ship looking? She sailed pretty fine to Avala Village and back,” father says.

“Oh, she’s a beauty, my friend. Never seen anything like it. That Osvald certainly knows how to make a ship. This thing is big, that’s for sure, but it ain’t lacking in speed. Especially with all those extra sails added. It puts our old ships to shame. Makes ’em look like rowboats,” Sigvid says.

“Yes, she’s a good ship. A fine ship. Even has plenty of space for each man to sleep, and there’s a perch up above that will allow me to see much farther out. It’ll make navigating much easier,” Skardi says.

“And a room just for the Skipper. Lucky bastard, you are Bothvar. Get to sleep in luxury,” Griotgard says, earning a thump on his head by Sigvid.

“He’s more than earned it, boy.”

“I was only joking, father. He’s my best friend after all,” Griotgard says, rubbing his head.

“And now he’s the Skipper and you’ll talk to him as such. Save the friend talk for private. I swear to you boy, if I hear ya talking that way in front of the others I’ll use you as bait for the sharks,” Sigvid says in a gruff raspy voice. His beard collects the spit flying out of his mouth.

I give Griotgard a sympathetic look, but Sigvid is right. I need the men to do as I say and show the same respect, they show my father. As he said, disobedience means death on the battlefield.

“Good work. We’ll leave you to finish it up,” father says as we move on.

We find Rognvald snapping at the brothers Thialfi and Skarf. “Will you two get your heads outta your arses and stop fooling around? If we don’t get everything ready, I’ll toss ya in the drink tomorrow when we’re out in the middle of the sea.”

“Skarf started it!” Thialfi grumbles.

“I did not, ya lying skin of tit milk!” Skarf snaps back.

Gunnstein, their older brother, walks up and whacks both of them upside the head. “Will you two quit it? It’s bad enough when we’re not in a rush to get shit packed. We set sail tomorrow. I swear, if this shit continues on the boat, I’ll tie ya both up in front of it.”

“How’re the counts on the supplies? Do you need more water?” my father asks.

“We could always use more water, and we’ve got plenty of room on this new ship. It’s impressive how much we can stuff in the bottom. Those Builders are something else,” Rognvald says, running his hand through his strange beard. He keeps his chin shaved and the sides come out like a mutton chop.

“Good. I’ll send some barrels over then. How’s the crew doing? Anyone needs some talkin to?” Father asks.

“Oh, they’re all rearing to go. But ya might want to talk to Gudleif and Audbjorg. They’ve been fighting all morning. I’m surprised it hasn’t come to a duel,” he says.

My father drags his hand down his face. “Alright then. Let’s get to it.”

I follow him until we come across the happily married couple. “I told ya, woman. I won’t touch another wench. I swear.”

“That’s what you said last time, and then I caught you with your cock halfway up that slave’s twat. You lucky my siblings got in between us or I’d a cut it off.”

“Mother, father, can you stop arguing?” Turid asks, rolling her eyes. “I’ll keep an eye on father and make sure it doesn’t happen. I promise.”

“I know it won’t. I’ll keep an eye on him myself,” she says, grasping at her sword hilt.

“I see you three are working things out. Will we have any problems out at sea?” father asks.

“Oh, I hope not. The gods know if we do, I’ll be feeding someone their own sausage, and my siblings won’t stop me this time,” Audbjorg says, tossing Gudleif a death glare.

“I won’t do it again, I swear,” the man says, running a hand across his bald head. “I thought she was you. It was an honest mistake.”

“Lies and excuses,” she says, walking off.

My father walks up to Gudleif. “I’m begging you, please keep your dick in your pants. I won’t be there to stop her.”

“I won’t. I swear by the gods, if my dick comes out, it’ll just be to piss unless Audbjorg wants a son.”

“Good man,” father says, patting him on the shoulder. Turid rolls her eyes and walks off. Gudleif follows after her. My father turns to me. “You see the kind of shit you have to deal with, son? You’ll want to keep an eye on him or get someone else to.”

“Yes, father,” I say.

“Good, now we just have a few more things to check on and then we’ll grab some food,” he says as I follow him through town. We find Ulf Styrkarsson with his wife, Torhild, and sister, Ingirid, sharpening their blades.

“Ulf, it is good to see you, my friend, as well as you, Torhild, and you too, Ingirid,” my father says as he walks up to them. “How goes it?”

“Oh, it goes well. We’re ready to set sail,” he says as he takes a good look at his sword and tests the edge.

“Good. Mind keeping an eye on Gudleif for me? I don’t want his wife castrating him just before a raid,” he says.

“I’ll try, but I don’t think it’d be wise to promise success with that endeavor,” Ulf says with a grin.

“And that is why I’ve always considered you a wise man,” father says.

“I’ll make sure the man keeps his dick in his pants,” Ingirid says with a smirk. “If I see him drop his pants, I’ll just stick a sword up his arse.”

“That might be effective, but I don’t want ’em to bleed to death every time he takes a shit,” my father says, earning a laugh from the three of them.

 Ingirid only shrugs. “Worth a try.”

“I appreciate your dedication,” father says with a nod. “Anything you three needs?”

“I think we’re all set, just making sure all the blades are sharp,” he says.

Father nods. “Well, we’ve got more to do before we’ll be ready. We’ll leave you to it.”

As we walk off, Thormar comes up. “Father, brother, I would like to show you this device I made.”

“I’m sorry, Thormar, but we’re a tad busy with preparations. Can you show us later?” father asks.

“I suppose, but this will help with the salt water…”

“Not now, son. I promise you, we’ll talk later,” father says as Thormar sighs. He pats him on the shoulder before we move on to the slave quarters. The small house has bunk beds lining the walls, with hardly any room in between. All men. They look up and get into line as father walks in. Some don’t hide their hate for us. A rather tall elf with dull green eyes and long dark hair meets my eyes. He has no love for me.

Father finds one particular slave out of the rest and walks up to him. “Ealhstan, right?”

The man with dark hair nods. “This will be your tenth raid, is it not?”

He nods again. “That means you’ll have earned your freedom. I’ll offer you the same as I offer every slave who becomes a free man. A place on our ships, but not as an oarsman, as a raider. You’ll earn your coin just like every other man. Will you take it?”

The man thinks a bit before nodding. “Yes, lord. I would like the opportunity to earn some coin.”

“Good. Come see me when you get back, and I’ll make sure you get a roof over your head and a ship to work on,” father says before he turns to the rest of them. “That is what you work for. You serve on our ships and you earn your freedom. And then you can earn your gold, or you can leave and go wherever ya like. It just takes a little sacrifice. We’re not cruel or unfair. We just take what we need and give back what is earned.”

With that, he walks out, and I follow. As we leave, he turns to me. “It is important that you give those unfortunate souls something to live for. A little hope goes a long way. Besides, if they can live long enough to earn their freedom, we can easily replace them by that time, and the ones who do become free will also become loyal, as strange as that sounds.”

I nod and follow him back into the hall. It makes sense. As we take a back alley to the hall, we stumble upon some arguing. Somehow, I am not surprised to see one of them is Gorm, but I am surprised to see Koll arguing with him and none other than the Wolf pup amongst them with his cat pet. To be honest, I’d never thought I’d see a Wolf and cat together without fighting. 

“Do you want to know why you always get assigned the shitty locations? Because no one trusts you. Enjoy the tundra. I’m sure your crew will get plenty of snow to divide amongst themselves,” Koll says as he steps up between Gadaric and Gorm.

Gorm clenches his fist, but eyes me and father before turning to walk off. I bear into his back with my glare. “What did Gorm want? Trying to leech off you?”

Koll shrugs. “He was trying to pick a fight with a Wolf.”

I growl. “Figures. Always going after those he thinks are weaker than himself.”

“I am not weaker than him. I can take him in a fight,” the Wolf pup says.

Neither of us acknowledge him. Koll puts a hand on my shoulder. “Of course, he’s never willing to fight a true challenge. He’s nothing like you, and that’s why you have my respect. You never back down from a real challenge, even when it might mean certain death. A true Viking, unlike that coward.”

“I am my father’s son. Besides, I can’t let myself stay in the old man’s shadow, no matter how big it is,” I say, even though it’s a lie. I can’t even force myself to smile.

My father puts his hand on my other shoulder. “You’ll make a shadow of your own. Now, Koll. Just the man I was looking for. Let’s get the Skippers together and go over the preparations over a meal. Bring your eldest son as well. He should start being in on these meetings, and tell the others to bring their second in command. Not all the Skippers, just the ones we talked about earlier.”

“Certainly. I’ll get the others. They’re all eager to get out. None of them like leaving later than the others, but we all understand why.”

My father nods. “It had to be done. No one wants to fall out of favor with Teowulf’s line.”

“Right. Well, I’ll meet you in the hall after I get the others,” Koll says as he walks away. My father takes one look at the Wolf pup and walks away.

I follow behind him as we walk to the hall. On our way, we run into Einar talking to his nephew Tandril. The one who faints at the sight of blood, which is pretty pathetic. “Listen, boy. I’m allowing you to come to do all the grunt work. Just stay out of the way and don’t make me regret it. It’ll be your own fault if you get yourself killed. Understand?”

Trandil, a weak and skinny boy about Thormar’s age, nods, wiping his long hair out of his face. Einar’s expression contorts in disgust. He really hates the boy. Even though I think he’s weak and pathetic, I can’t imagine hating a relative. Einar blames the boy for his sister’s death since she died giving birth to him. Even so, I still couldn’t hate one who shares my blood. As much as some of them get on my nerves.

“Einar, my friend. Will you join us in the hall? Koll is getting Throst. I’d like to go over last-minute preparations and go over plans,” father says, getting a nod from Einar. “Bring your son as well. He should be here too. It’s time the sons learn to lead.”

Einar nods. “I’ll go get Vog. Although, I have half a mind to bring Eystein instead. He might not be much of a fighter, but he’s got more brains than Vog. Although Vog is better with a sword. Neither have both. And yet my daughters seem to have what the other two lack.”

“Bring all of them then,” father says, and Einar nods and turns to leave with Trandil heading over to the hall. Most likely to go to Thormar. The two seem to be close friends. Can’t imagine why Thormar would want a friend like Trandil who wouldn’t last in a fight. I can’t imagine him in a battle with blood washing the ground. Wouldn’t last the first charge. Even if he does somehow manage to kill a man, he’d pass out and be trampled on.

We enter the hall, and I can finally sit down. Semet, the green-eyed elven slave Arngunn favored, brings me a plate of food. She’s a beautiful girl with chocolate brown skin the color of bronze. A slender thing, but has a nice rump. I can see why many would want to hump her, but as long as I am here, no one will touch her. That is what Arngunn wanted, and that is what shall be.

The weasel Guthhere brings my father a plate. He was one of the slaves we brought back from the raid Thorkel had died on. He’s a short, stubby man-child slave and I do not trust him. I don’t know why mother picked him to be one of our house slaves, but he is the type to compliment you to your face and spite you when your back is turned. Thankfully, she took those priests as well and keeps them as her and Sigvor’s personal slaves. Something tells me it’s because they can do magic.

“Thormar! You should be here to hear this,” my father shouts. Thormar nearly trips coming out of his room with Trandil behind him. 

He puts his shoulder on the other boy. “We’ll talk about this later, my friend.”

I bet they’re talking about Thormar’s plans to sail west. I hope to the gods he doesn’t plan on giving any important role to Tandril, or I’ll have to rethink my investment. Trandil nods and walks off as Thormar joins us. Guthhere is quick to bring him a plate of food with that fake smile. He’s got a face you just want to punch. Thorkel would surely agree.

Guthhere is still not as bad as that other snake, Morcar. He’s another weasel who shoves his nose up other people’s asses, only to stab them in the back. I’ve seen him do it with other slaves, and it took everything in me not to toss the gutless bastard into the drink. If only Bodvar were here. He loved to make the weasel’s life miserable. I, admittedly, enjoyed watching how creative my little brother got at the pranks he’d pull on him.

The others join us. Einar brings Vog, who gives me a curt nod, and Eystein, along with his two daughters, Thorgunna and Gudfrid.

Semet brings a plate of food out to Einar as Guthhere rushes to try to outdo her. My hand clenches into a fist as Vog cops a feel with Semet. Her face shows her horror. “Semet, will you go and make sure I have everything packed? Double check my bags. I don’t want to go out to sea and realize I’m missing something.”

Her face shows a hint of relief. “As you wish, lord.”

She hurries off to my room. Vog looks very disappointed. My father doesn’t look pleased either. I don’t really care. Koll walks in with Aunt Ingithora, Veleif, Svafar, and Saxi. Guthhere rushes to get them all drinks and food. His fake smile is now replaced with visible worry.

I can’t hold my laugh as Vog sticks out a foot and trips him. My father growls his frustration. “For the love of the gods, slave. Don’t be so damn clumsy, and fetch one of the others to help since you’re taking forever.”

“Yes, lord,” Guthhere says as he scurries off.

Throst walks in with his wife and sea navigator, Armod, and his two eldest daughters, Asvor, and Alfdis. Both golden-haired beauties who know how to handle a sword just as well as any man.

Guthhere comes back with none other than Morcar, the other weasel, and the two of them scramble to get everyone drinks and food. “Now that we can talk without the other Skippers, I have to tell you all something. I didn’t just delay you because of the meeting, but for another reason. I have word from Kadal who intercepted a messenger to Chillshore about a ship that is to leave from the south any day and will be carrying the Lord of Chillshore’s son along with his new bride-to-be. You can count on it. They’ll have a treasure trove of gold. I can also imagine it will be a ship well-guarded. I’d like to take the Lordling alive. We can ransom him back to Chillshore or use him to draw them out. Either way, make sure no one from the ship escapes. We can’t have word getting back to Chillshore.”

Koll grins. “Now this will be a much welcome raid. I have been longing for a good score.”

“And you will get it. I do have reason to believe they will have wizards with them. From what I know, they are the type that uses this Arcane Magic. My wife learned a lot from our wizard-warrior visitor Thon and has been making amulets to protect against this Arcane Magic,” father says.

“Yes, I worked with her to help make these wards against the magic. It is strong magic. Able to move things in the air and summon and configure things. There are lots of uses for this magic from what I have learned when we spoke with Thon. He taught us enough. Sigvor, Thorkatla, and I have been hard at work using the knowledge to make amulets to protect as many as we can, but we didn’t have time to make enough. So, we’ll have to use them sparingly. We still don’t know the extent that these will work. And apparently, it’ll only protect against Arcane Magic and nothing else,” Ingithora says.

“What do you mean… Arcane Magic? Is there more than one kind of magic? I thought magic was just magic,” Einar says.

“From what we learned, there are several different kinds of magic. Arcane is the most prevalent among us and the High Elves that reside in the desert to the far south. Their wood elven cousins who live north of them use a different kind of magic. It’s a magic that allows them to talk to the animals and trees. They can grow a tree as fast as you can set a sail. All plants and animals bend to their will, and some can even become animals themselves,” Ingithora says.

“I would not mind having this magic,” Einar says, scratching his beard as he stares off into the distance. Probably imagining all he could do with such power. I can’t help but think of it, too. You’d think since my mother can use magic, then I’d be able to as well.

“So, these things you made will protect us from the High Elven magic then, but not the Wood Elven magic?” Throst asks.

“That is correct. There are more than those two as well. This religion of the Light uses another magic called Divine. It is mostly used for healing.”

“I have seen it at work,” I say out loud as they all stare at me. “On our way back from the raid, one of the priests we captured was injured with a deep gash on his head. So, I allowed one of the others to heal him. It’s a bright warm light, and after the woman was done there was not a scratch left.”

All of them take time to consider what I said. My father scratches his beard. “It would be nice to have some of these healers on our ships.”

Einar laughs. “Good luck with convincing them.”

My father shrugs and nods for Aunt Ingithora to continue. “And there is forbidden magic that even the elves will not practice and forbade it. None speak of it, but Thon mentioned Demonic Magic along with Dark Magic.”

“Very well. Thankfully, most of the Wood Elves we ever come across are collared with the High Elven magic prohibiting collars. Where is this ship coming from?”

“It is actually a Golden Elven trading company ship. He is riding aboard their ships from the river by Riverhall to Chillshore. The lord there has some kind of agreement with the High Elves. They are supplied slaves and shipping for the ore they steal from our mountains,” father says.

“Then we must separate them from our ore and the gold,” Koll says, with my father’s agreement.

“And the slaves,” Einar says.

“Of course, the slaves,” Father agrees.

“How many ships will accompany them?” Koll asks.

“I can assume three or four. They will want to put enough ships on it to dissuade the small pirate raiding parties, but not put too many on it to draw attention,” father says.

“What’s the plan, then?” Einar asks, taking a swig before he rips into a slice of ham. “The plan is simple,” father says with a grin.

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Lura Syllana

I’ve reached level nine quite easily. By now, I’ve learned how to cleanse poisons, which isn’t all that different from curing diseases, along with how to place blessings, cleanse water of taint, deal with severe injuries, and remove curses of forbidden magic. Now I must learn how to make a shield and use the Light to smite. Of course, all of what we are taught during our time as Accepted are the pure basics of using the Divine Light. Once we become Sisters, that’s when the real learning begins.

Now that I’ve advanced far enough, I’ve decided to take a step back and focus on Terel’s books. Most of the others have read through them, and I’ve now got a stack of them that I’m sure Melyis is just waiting to get a chance to read, along with anyone else who’s received the notes from Terel.

I pick up the first book I have yet to finish and read on. Within it, he mentions that the world is not at all what we believe it to be. It’s actually a sphere, a ball, and it spins which gives us night and day. Not only that, but it revolves around our own sun instead of the common belief of our sun orbiting around our world. We’re not the only world that revolves around our sun and those stars in the sky are other suns that have their own worlds revolving around them. And this is all done because of this thing called gravity. We feel the force that holds us to the ground. It’s what makes our world revolve around the sun and the moons revolve around our world. It’s mind-boggling to think about. We’re just small specks in such a large universe. What other false beliefs do we hold on to?

I take a break for lunch and quietly talk to the others who have read. “Can you guys believe the things Terel said about our world? It is a giant ball.”

“I refuse to believe that,” Biremeril says. “I can accept the things about other gods and what not, but I will not believe that our world is like some ball. And this concept of gravity. That doesn’t make any sense. How would people at the bottom of the world stick to the ground? And how does the water not fall off the world? I can’t believe it.”

“I don’t know. It makes sense to me. Have you ever whirled a bucket of water over your head?” Charinva asks, with her nose buried in a book. She doesn’t wait for a response. “The water doesn’t fall when it’s upside down over your head. What keeps the water in the bucket? It’s kinda like gravity, right? But It’s different. It all makes sense to me. The thing I have a hard time wrapping my head around is that we’re just pawns in a game of war with these gods. They move us around and sacrifice us like it’s all just a game, yet they die and rise again, but what happens to us? We’re just ants beneath their feet. Do you care about the ants that you hardly even notice?”

Biremeril shakes his head. I only shrug and sigh. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Chalia rush over. She looks disturbed. Her eyes meet mine and she stops. She bites her lip and then rushes over to me. “Lura, you have to come with me.”

“What is it?” I ask.

She searches my eyes. “Some of the Paladins have returned from the north.”

My eyes go wide as words go unspoken. I get up from the table and take care of my trash before going with Chalia as the others rush behind us. We make our way out to the main entrance where people gather as Sisters and Brothers from the north make their way through. Behind them are the Paladins. Both men and women in armor. They look weathered. None of them are Orym. Behind them are the esquires, Paladins in training. They hold up the fallen upon planks. And there, lying on a plank lies Orym. His flesh is a cold icy blue with his eyes covered with pendants.

It feels like the light inside of me has gone out as I watch his lifeless body being carried through the hall. I drop to my knees as tears rain down from my eyes like a storm of sorrow. My heart just died and shattered into pieces. The warmth I felt has gone cold and the joy I found here has withered into sorrow like a flower in the desert that goes without water. This feels like it is all my fault. Orym was punished because we fell in love with each other. He’s now dead and gone because he gave me his heart, and the worst part is, for the longest time, I thought he was a liar. I thought he took my virginity and left with my heart. And now that I know the truth, that it wasn’t his choice, the pain of losing him like this hurts even worse. Knowing that he only left because he was being punished. When I found that out, my heart beat again, but there is nothing left of it anymore. I feel so hollow inside. That light I found here has been snuffed out and all that is left is darkness.

I feel arms wrap around me, but I can’t bring myself to care. I hear Chalia whisper in my ear. “Come, Lura. Let’s go back to your room. You don’t want people to see you like this.”

I don’t care how people see me. I don’t care about anything anymore, but I let her guide me away. Others ask why I’m so upset. No one but Chalia knows the truth. Back in my room, I lay down and bury myself in my pillow. Chalia stays for a while, but eventually leaves. I don’t know how much time passes, but I can’t bring myself to get out of bed.

So many what-ifs are running through my mind right now. What if I never took Orym as a customer? What if I just kept serving drinks instead of serving men? What if I never snuck into Low Town? What if I listened to my father and never started thieving? What would things be like if I just listened?

My parents and my uncle, along with his crew, wouldn’t be slaves right now. Orym might still be alive. I’d still be with my family, even though we’d still be stuck in Tent City scrounging for food, but at least no one would have been hurt by my actions. Why do people suffer like this? Why must we endure such hardships? Will the Light ever give us salvation? What is the reason for such suffering? Does any of it matter?

A knock at the door pulls me out of my swirling thoughts. Light breaks in as Chalia enters. “I brought you some food. You need to eat.”

She brings the tray in as I sit up from my bed. She sits down next to me and puts the tray in her lap. Then she snaps her fingers, lighting the lamp. “I don’t feel like eating right now.”

“It’s been nearly two full days since you’ve been hidden away in here. You have to eat,” she says as she picks up a bread roll and hands it to me.

I give in and force myself to eat it, only to appease her so she’ll leave me alone. “They’re allowing people to go pay their respects to Orym and the others. I thought you should know.”

My head perks up as my eyes go wide. “Really? I must go see him.”

“Not until you eat all of this food,” she says.

I sigh but relent and try to stuff everything down. It’s hard, I feel so weak. She tries to get me to slow down, but I need to see him. When I finally finish, she takes me to him. Apparently, this happens all too often because they have a chamber just for this. Orym rests upon a slab of marble in a small side room. Fortunately, no one else is here. We walk into the small room. Chalia puts her hand on my shoulder. “I’ll let you be alone with him. Just don’t lose yourself in grief.”

I nod. “Thank you, Chalia. For everything.”

She nods and then walks away. I look down at his body, dressed in a pure white robe. His skin is that cold, icy blue. It’s as if the light of his soul was taken from his body. It looks like him, but I know he is not here. This is the shell he left behind upon his death. I take in a deep breath and let it go. “I don’t even know what to say. For the longest time, I thought you were only lying to me. I thought you used me and left me. Then I learned the truth. You were forced to leave. Punished for loving me. I don’t know what is worse. A world without you in it is a dark and cold place, and I don’t know if I can bear it.”

I place my hand on top of his, only to feel cold. I remember his touch and this isn’t it. It was warm and holy. It felt as Divine as the Light he filled me with the night I gave him my virginity. I wish I could give him my light. Tears fall from my eyes, but it does nothing to lessen the pain inside of me. “I just wish I knew why you couldn’t come back. I wish I had a chance to say goodbye. If I knew that night was going to be the last night we had together, I would’ve broken my heart in two and given the other half to you. If I knew the trouble our love was going to cause, I would’ve kept us apart to save you.”

“I thought you were the one.” I look up to see Damaris standing there. She looks as sad as I feel. “I knew Orym fell in love with someone at that Brothel and I had a suspicion it was you, but I didn’t know for sure.”

“It’s all my fault. He’s dead because he loved me,” I say, pulling my eyes away.

“Oh, no child, this… This is not your fault,” she says as she closes the distance between us. She pulls me into her arms. “Orym had a big heart, and he was incapable of keeping it from falling in love. He decided to love you, and he knew what could happen. And aside from that, this is one thing I believe the church is wrong on. The love you shared with him was pure and it never deserved to be punished. This… This is the fault of the church. Not you or Orym.”

I look up at her and she smiles at me. It’s a sad smile. “Come, I need to give you something, and I think it’s best we go somewhere to sit.”

I go with her, and she leads me out to the courtyard as we find a bench somewhere secluded. She pulls out an envelope and looks down at it. “Before Orym was sent to the North, he mentioned you. He didn’t mention your name, but he said a girl might come looking for him. He also told me how he fell in love with her and that he couldn’t help himself. He said she saved him from his own pain. That you saved him. He said you were this sweet, wonderful, and truly good person. You made him find the Light once more. Orym had a hard life, not that different from your own. I found the poor boy after his mother and father were killed. They were merchants doing business in Chillshore, and I was there for the church. We were on our way to Barefrost when we were attacked by a tribe of particularly cruel Northmen called Bone Eaters. They killed his parents right in front of him. I managed to pull him away as men from Barefrost who were traveling to Chillshore arrived. We survived, but Orym was now all alone. The poor boy had no one else. I took him in and brought him to the church. But he wanted to avenge his family, so he left to become a warrior. It took a lot of time for him to find the Light after losing his parents, but he eventually came back. Even then, he still was lost in the dark for a long while. I thought for a moment he found peace, but then they sent him to the north after he was caught at the brothel. Maybe it was you who helped him find it.”

Her words only make me want to cry even more. She hands me the letter. “He wrote this for you. He told me when a girl comes asking for me, give her this.”

I look down at the letter and trace my fingers down the ruffled parchment. I open the fold of the envelope and pull out the parchment inside. Unfolding it, I find that his handwriting feels as warm as his voice.

Lura,

To the woman who found my heart within the darkness of my soul, know I didn’t leave you by choice. It seems our love has come at a cost. The night you gave me your first, I was caught with my heart in your hand. For that, I have been sent to the land that took my family. Perhaps this was meant to be. Life always seems to come full circle. But know this: I will not forget you, and I will fight for our love until the day we can be together again. My heart belongs to you, even if my body fights for the Light. I will not give up on us. I just hope you find it in your heart to forgive me for my sudden disappearance.

If I shall die, forget about me and live your life. And please reconsider joining the church. You have a good heart, and it would flourish within the service of the Light. They may have ridiculous rules, but the Light brings out those with the purest of hearts and surely that is where you belong.

I hope you find your family and free them.

My heart is yours,

Orym

Tears drip down onto the parchment, smudging his words. I try to wipe them away, but I can’t stop the flow. Damaris’s gentle touch rubs up and down on my back. “It’s okay to grieve. Just let it out.”

With utmost care, I fold the parchment and put it back within the envelope, holding it to my chest. “Maybe the church is right about attachments. Surely no pain could be as bad as this.”

“There were times I could agree with you, but wouldn’t you rather have loved and lost than to never have loved at all? Orym gave you something rare that few people ever find. An unconditional and pure love. Even the insurmountable pain of its internal absence is worth a mere moment of its overwhelming presence.”

I look up at her, wiping away tears that forever rain. “Maybe in time I will feel that way.”

I look out at the courtyard, no longer seeing the light of life, but only the gloom of its absence. I look back up at Damaris. “Will I see him again when I too join the Light when I die?”

She looks deep into my eyes, searching. After a deep breath and a long release, she nods. “Yes, I believe so.”

“Then I guess I will just have to hold on and be good until I can earn my place next to his.” I close my eyes, searching for his face. It was only brief moments we had together, and that’s all that I will have with him until I join him in the Light.

We sit there for a while in silence. Finally, Damaris tells me that I should say my final farewell before they send the dead to the Light. She walks with me back to the visiting chambers before she takes her leave.

I look at the man who gave me his heart. “Do not worry, my love, we will meet again soon when I finally join you in the Light. For now, I have to serve faithfully so the Light will find me worthy. I will earn my place next to yours.”

“What are you doing here?” I look up and am surprised to see none other than Olizara Greatgazer entering the chamber.

“I’m just paying my respects and honoring the dead. What about you?” I ask.

“I was close with Orym. Our families were related. You seem awfully grievous for someone who never met him,” she says, as she stares at me suspiciously. I can tell she still holds contempt in her heart because I surpassed her. That seems so petty now.

“I only knew him for a brief moment, but he left a big impression on my life,” I say, which is the honest truth.

Her eyes narrow at me. They shift between Orym’s body and my own eyes. Then they go wide. “It was you! You were the whore that got him in trouble. Weren’t you?”

My eyes go wide. “I… I…”

“I knew there was something wrong about you. You’re nothing but a whore. You don’t deserve to wear these robes,” she says as she sneers at me.

“I…”

“I’m going to tell everyone that you are the reason he is dead,” she says, turning on her heels and rushing out.

“No! I loved him,” I say as I take a step forward, but give up. What if she is right? He wouldn’t be in trouble if it were not for me. He didn’t go to that brothel for sex. That just doesn’t seem like something he would do. He went there to find love, and I gave it to him.

I turn back to where he lies. Where his empty shell lies. I don’t care what she tells people. I know the truth in my broken heart. I loved him with all of it and it died with him. After a long moment, I try to bring the words to say my goodbye, but I can’t. I don’t know how to say goodbye. Instead, I pray that we will see each other once more when I join him in the Light if I am found worthy.

I walk out and return to my room. Chalia is waiting for me. “Hey, Damaris wants to meet with all of us. She said it is urgent.”

I follow her into a classroom where all the other strays are. Damaris is waiting for us. “Is everyone here?”

Everyone nods. “Good, this will not take long. I have just been given urgent news and I must leave. I hope I won’t be gone long, but there is something important I must take care of. I’m sorry that I cannot say more than what I’ve just spoken. I promise you all that one day all will come to light, but for now, be patient. Look out for each other, and hold firm within the Light. Now I must be off.”

I rush out behind her as she walks off. “Sister Damaris!”

She turns to meet my eyes. “I’m sorry, Lura. I don’t have time to talk. I must go now. When I return, I will be with you. I promise.”

“Sister Damaris!” Chalia says as she rushes up beside me.

Damaris meets Chalia’s eyes and gives her a brief smile. “Don’t worry Chalia. I’ll be back before you know it. Now I must go.”

And she does. Leaving us all. We head out a window to watch her leave the Cathedral as she meets up with High Mother Mathienne, Mother Vedana, and Mother Nostra along with several other Sisters.

“What do you think is so important?” I ask.

“I don’t know… Whatever it is, it must be worth the urgency,” she says. I nod. The rest of the strays also watch with us.

Ralodan among us looks suspicious as he rubs his chin. Regardless, I just don’t have the energy to care anymore. I head back to my room and bury myself in my sheets.

I don’t know how long before Chalia walks in. “They’re going to perform the ascension of the dead. I thought you should be there to see Orym one last time.”

I pull myself out of bed and nod. Chalia helps me clean up, and I follow her to join the others as we walk into a sacred chamber of ascension. As soon as I walk in, whispers flurry through the crowd as everyone stops what they’re doing to stare at me. Some point and others glare. I already know what they are talking about. Olizara must have been spreading the word about my relationship with Orym. Or her version of it.

I don’t care. Let them talk. Nothing they say could make me feel any worse than I already do. I follow Chalia as we join the other strays.

When the ritual begins, they bring in the bodies of the deceased, starting with one I do not know. The elf is put on the marble altar at the center of the chamber. Several priests and priestesses gather around and lock hands. Father Anfather stands within the circle with a book opened. “Light be praised, for today we send one of our Brothers and Sisters to join our fallen family within the Light. May the Light look after your soul, my fallen Brother.”

They sing as a beam of white-hot light falls down upon the body and it is lifted up, disintegrating within the Light as if it becomes one with the Divine flame.

Next, Orym is brought out and laid upon the altar. I can barely see through my tears as Father Anfather repeats the words for Orym. They are lost on me as I watch the Light lift my love up to the heavens, taking my heart with him. His body becomes one with the Divine.

Several others ascend after Orym, but the rest of the ritual fades away as I look up to the Light and pray for the keeper of my broken heart. May the Light keep him safe. I pray that I am worthy of finding the path to him so we can be together once more. He was the man who showed me what love was. He was kind and gentle to me when I needed it most. Even though there was a time when I was lost when he was sent north, our love never died.

After the ceremony, I follow Chalia out and over to get supper with the others. I sit with my friends as I pick at my food, lost in the few blissful memories of the only nights we shared. Our moments were few, but they were filled with more passion and love than I have ever felt. Now he is gone and I am here, left with an empty chest and a missing heart. I take a deep breath and let it out.

“Are the rumors true?” Ochilysse asks as I look up to meet her eyes. “Did you work at a brothel before you came here and sleep with Orym?”

“Ochilysse! That’s none of your business,” Chalia says.

“I was only wondering. Rumors are spreading all throughout the halls. I just wanted to know the truth,” she says.

“Whore!” a noble Accepted says as she walks by.

I look all around to see people whispering and pointing at me. Words like whore, prostitute, slut, and even worse are being thrown around with my name attached. They’re saying I’m the whore who got Orym killed. I got him sent to the north. I seduced him and corrupted his pure heart. Tears burn down my cheeks as I get up and run out. “Lura!” I don’t care anymore. About anything. I just want to die.

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Bothvar Beorcolsson

“Father,” Thormar says, drawing his attention. “May I ask why we do not sail west? Wasn’t that what Thorkel wanted? I’ve seen maps of islands and other lands to the west and southwest past the long forest of the elves. I’ve heard they’re rich with resources.”

“They are also rich with danger. I would love to journey west, but now is not the time to throw men into the sea. Besides, in order to get there, we either have to risk sailing too close to the elven lands or risk sailing too far into the Dead Sea where monsters swim, the Kraken among them along with the Merrow. I’d rather face the elves than those monsters.”

“Aren’t the elves of the forest the enemies of the elves that hunt us in their ships? Why don’t we make peace with the Forest Elves so we can sail safely across their shores?” Thormar asks.

“That is a good suggestion, but I doubt the elves will hear us out when we have many of their people enslaved. Like the blue-eyed High Elves who hunt us, the green-eyed Forest Elves have no love for us either,” father says.

“Scyra, daughter of King Teowulf, mentioned she trained with them,” I say without even thinking.

“Maybe she can speak to them on behalf of all of us?” Thormar asks.

“Perhaps when we meet them during our next All Clan meeting, we can talk about it then and look into the possibility of sailing west. However, if we ever do want to make peace with them, I’m sure they will request that we free their people we hold as slaves. That will not go over well with those who hold them as thralls,” he says.

“Surely, we can compensate for them. There can’t be many enslaved,” Thormar says.

“Enough to severely dent our coffers,” father says.

“What if we outlawed slavery entirely?” Thormar asks.

Father nearly chokes on wine he brought to his lips. “If I tried to outlaw slavery, I’d be parted with my head. Besides, our way of life would come to a halt. You underestimate how much we rely on slave labor for our day-to-day life. Everything from farming to most of the laborious tasks in our ships. Let alone those who help alleviate men’s lust. Lots of men resort to taking slaves for wives since many men have multiple wives.”

“Couldn’t we pay for such services?” Thormar asks.

Father shrugs. “We could… Perhaps. That would probably tarnish our coffers just as much as paying to free the slaves from their masters. And a large part of our wealth comes from selling slaves to the other tribes. Let this be the end of this conversation. Maybe someday in the future we can find a new way to provide for our people, but for now slavery is ingrained in our culture and is the biggest source of resources we have to provide for our people. If it comes to the life of a slave over the lives of our citizens, I will sacrifice every slave in our town.”

After we leave the hall for our own rooms to pack, I walk into Thormar’s room as he fills his packs with what he thinks he needs for our raid. Most of it is junk he could easily do without, but this is not a battle I care to fight.

“I agree with you, little brother.” He looks up at me with a raised eyebrow. “I despise our reliance on thralls. I think it is wrong. As much as I despise the elves, I can see they are not that different from ourselves. Neither are the other races we have enslaved. And I also would like to sail west, as Thorkel wished.”

“Why didn’t you say something, then?” he asks.

“Because father is right. Our society would collapse without the slaves for now. We have no other way to support ourselves, and if war is to come then we will need every man and woman to fight. Sailing west is an unknown risk full of danger. It is better to attack the safer bet and get what we know is possible than to risk everything on something we have no idea of what it could bring.”

He sighs. “You’re right. I just… I want to see what’s out there. I need to know.”

“How about this, little brother? I’ve been saving gold for some time. If you raise enough money, I will help you pay Osvald to build a new ship. Then all you need to do is recruit a crew and next summer, you can sail west. But you will have to do it with only the men you can take on your ship. It is a gamble and a major risk, but if you are sure about this, you can have your chance to sail with your own ship. Which I will partially own, of course, and I’ll get a share in the profits along with the tax you’ll owe to father. But you and your men who join you will get the rest of whatever you earn.”

Thormar doesn’t even hesitate. His eyes light up with excitement. “You’d do that?”

I nod. “Of course. This was important to Thorkel.”

“Will you come with me?” he asks.

I shrug. “Perhaps, I do not know. As the eldest now, my duty is here with the people. I must go where we vote and most likely, that will be south.”

He nods. “I’ll start making plans and recruiting. I’ve already got friends who I’ve been talking to that are very interested in going west. Trandil, Einar’s nephew, and possibly his son Eystein. Our second cousins of Koll’s grandchildren are also interested. At first it was just Gudrik and Starolf, but now Asvor, Bolla, and even Hilde. Same with Hosvir, Solmund and Griotgard’s younger brother. Svala wants to come too and she’ll be old enough next summer. Hosvir even convinced his sister Vigdis. Bodvar wanted to come, but now that he is with the Wolf Clan, I suppose he can no longer come with us. Maybe this Gadaric will come?”

“You’ve been planning this for some time. The only problem with your crew is they are all as young as you are. No experience. You’ll need someone who knows what they are doing and knows the seas. I won’t let you go until you find someone who can help guide you.”

“Fair enough. I’m sure we’ll find someone by next summer,” he says.

“You also do not have a Sea Navigator and you can’t have Skardi,” I say.

“Hopefully whoever has the experience can be the sea navigator,” he says.

“Perhaps… Maybe even Svala might do, but she is still too young and untested. You want someone who has been out on the sea for some time and knows what they are doing or you’ll be sailing in circles. You must have someone who can read the stars, the moons, and the sun. They must be able to know when storms come and how to tell when land is near. Without one, you’ll end up lost to the sea and most likely in the Kraken’s belly,” I say.

He sighs. “I will find one. I am sure of it, brother. I have to sail west. It is a feeling deep inside my gut.”

I walk up and put my hand on his shoulder. “I will do whatever I can to help you. I believe in you. We may disagree on things from time to time, and I’ve given you a hard time here and there, especially when Thorkel was alive, but I do not doubt your conviction. You are smart. Smarter than most of us. You’ll do great things, I know it.”

Thormar barrels into my chest with a bear hug. He’s gotten much stronger, especially with all the training in the mountains. “Thank you, Bothvar. It means a lot to me.”

I nod and mess his hair up. I need to stop doing that.

“Just remember this one thing, if you meet a race of people who do not speak your language, do not teach them bad habits,” I say, which makes him tilt his head. “Or else you’ll have to endure getting your hair messed up every time you see them.” With that, I walk out with a wry smile on my face. Something father always did to us, always getting the last word in, giving strange advice, and leaving you to ponder it. But it is good advice, nonetheless, and I’m sure if he goes west, he’ll need it.

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Lura Syllana

Time seems to pass by so fast as I meditate. It’s still hard to ignore the call of the blue flame. I want to dive back into it, but thankfully the Divine Light I feel when I channel through the crystal is just as fulfilling, if not more so. It takes me a little over twelve days, meditating around eight hours a day to complete my hours. Then I sit with Sister Jereno to pass her test where I show her that I can make the Light with ease. In fact, it’s become almost instinctual. It barely takes a couple of seconds to clear my mind and bring the Light out.

Ralodan, Biremeril, and Melyis have also made it to level one. Unfortunately, our next class is taught by a noble Sister named Eredina Duskforce. She’s not so helpful, but the tasks we need to learn to achieve level two don’t seem too hard. We have to be able to encompass ourselves within the Light, which it seems like I’ve already done that. Then we also have to focus the Light to a point. It doesn’t take long for Ralodan to complete it and pass on to level two, which makes me a little jealous.

Thankfully, I was right, and I have done part of it already. I’m already able to encompass myself within the Light. It feels so natural to do so. It’s as if my body seeks to be blanketed by it.

Now, trying to focus that Light into a single point is a lot harder. That takes a lot of will and effort. I can hardly get it smaller than my palm. I feel like I have to use all my concentration and strength just to contain it within a ball that will fit inside my hand. It’s a struggle. I have to fight it with both hands.

I spend all day in my room trying to squeeze the ball into a coin with no luck. By the time lunch comes around the next day, I’m drenched in sweat and out of breath. I’m exhausted. I pull myself to lunch and grab some food.

“You kinda stink,” Chalia says as she holds her nose as I take a seat next to her.

“I have to agree with her,” Charinva says, yet she doesn’t even bother to cover her nose as she uses one hand to eat and the other to hold a book, sitting across from me.

“What’s got you in a sweat?” Ralodan says as takes the seat on the other side of me.

“Just trying to make a mountain into a molehill.” I stab my fork into the vegetables and jam them in my mouth.

“Come again?” Ralodan asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ve been trying to focus the Light into a point. I can’t even get it smaller than a ball the size of my hand.”

“Oh, that was easy,” Chalia says, with a wave of her hand.

“Yeah, I didn’t have much of a problem with it either,” Ralodan says as he points at the end of my fork. A tiny speck of Light rests on the tip of it. Ralodan has a huge grin.

“Woah! How did you get your energy to be so faint? Mine feels like it’s going to explode,” Charinva asks as she stares up from her book, wide-eyed.

Ralodan leans back in his chair with a casual smile. “I just feel the flow. Light is already there. I make it shine the way I want it to. Just feel the flow of Light. You can only do that if you’re in a state of flow yourself. Like when you meditate and enter that trancelike state. It’s the flow.”

“Why do you call it the flow?” Chalia asks, narrowing her eyes.

Ralodan just shrugs. “I like the way it sounds. It sounds the way I think it feels.”

She shrugs. “Fair enough.”

“So, this flow is basically like meditating?” Charinva asks as she pulls out a long stick that looks like the end of a quill.

“Yeah. But it’s not the same as meditation. You’re active and aware of everything. It’s more about letting go of your thoughts and who you are. You essentially become the Light. When you’re like that, you can basically make it do what you want it to,” he says before he stuffs his face with a fork full.

“That’s extraordinary. I’ve never seen that written anywhere. Where did you learn this?” Charinva asks as she writes notes in the margins of her book.

Ralodan shrugs. “I don’t know. It just felt natural. When I look at the Light, I can see the way it flows. It’s like a river, almost. But it never wavers and always flows the straight path. If you can feel each particle within the Light and what it is, you can mold it however you want to. I don’t know if that makes any sense at all. I just know that’s how I feel it.”

“I’ll have to experiment a little until I feel what you’re describing,” Charinva says.

“I think this might work with any other energy, too. At least it does with Arcane,” he adds and she jots that down too.

“Where’s your ink?” Chalia asks Charinva as she looks around the table.

“An Ink bottle is a terrible inconvenience. I created this to eliminate that inconvenience,” she says as she holds up the thing that looks like a featherless quill. “It’s a quill, but I hollowed it out and put a tiny little ball at the tip, and it’s held in there by a little chamber. As you move the ball, it gets wet in the ink.”

“So, the ball rotates the ink out of the quill?” I ask as I inspect the answer is yes.

“Yes! Exactly.” She smiles and looks a bit shocked by my statement.

“My father used to be somewhat of an inventor. Well, more of a fixer-upper. Everyone used to go to him to get their junk fixed.” I smile. Thinking about memories that threaten to bring the tears out. I take a deep breath and try to find that flow Ralodan was speaking about. I seek the calm, breathing in the air and find it.

After lunch, I head back to my room and try again. Instead of focusing on the task, I slip back into meditation, trying to seek that flow Ralodan speaks of. However, it’s so hard to ignore that immense fire that calls to me. It tries to pull me to it. To submerge me into its overwhelming power.

A knock at the door pulls me away. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me. Ralodan!”

“Come in!”

He opens the door with his usual casual smile and steps in. “I just wanted to see if you needed help with your task.”

“How do you enter this flow state when the fire of that energy inside us is trying to pull you into it?” I ask.

“That is a tough one. It’s a hard call to ignore. It’s so bright, vibrant, and addictive. The thing is, when you let the flame consume you, you are not flowing with it, but letting it overpower you and getting pushed by its power. You’re not the one in control, or even the channeler; you’re just the conduit. When you find the flow, you become the flame. It works the same with Divine Light as it does with the Arcane flame. You have to understand the flame and know it as you know yourself. Just as with the Divine Light. Let it flow inside you, just as you flow within it. Only then can you find balance in yourself and within the Light. Once you’ve achieved that balance, you can ask the Light to do whatever you want it to, and it will obey.”

I nod, closing my eyes to meditate as he sits down in my chair. I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. Focusing on my heartbeat, my breath, and seeking the flow. I look deep inside me. Find the flames that burn deep within, but ignore the call. I try to see the flame for what it is, a light, an energy. It is made of so many little specks. They swirl like a fire. Breathing in and out, pulsing like a heartbeat. It feels alive within me. This living manifestation of energy, and I can feel its consciousness. A consciousness that is ageless and formless. It is within me and outside of me. It is all around me. I open my eyes and see it flowing like a river. It flows from source to source. From me to Ralodan, from Ralodan to me, connecting us along with everything else that contains the flame. “I see it. It’s beautiful.”

Ralodan smiles. “See? You’re becoming the flow. It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

“It is. It truly is,” I say, biting my lip, unable to contain my joy. “How… how did you discover this?”

Ralodan shrugs. “I don’t know how to explain it. I just knew it inside of me.”

I look at him, searching his eyes. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Go ahead,” he says.

“What was your life like before you came to the church?”

He shrugs. “I lived in a monastery on an island somewhere north of here. The island was completely made up of the Church. Having beautiful cathedrals, churches, monasteries, and a full city of servants to the Light. I don’t know my true parents. Never met them. I do have these weird dreams of people like me.

He scratches his head as he bites his lip and then meets my eyes. He then sighs. “I think they might be my family or siblings. They call me Reuel. I believe that means friend. And we follow our father, who I can’t see or hear. I don’t know his name, nor can I see his face. I just know his voice and his presence. It feels like I’m a part of him in some strange way. It’s odd, I know, but it’s a dream. I also have weird dreams where I’m another person. Like one dream, I was practicing magic in this academy. I was using my magic to win and lose at gambling. They called me Magnus. I also had a dream that I was somewhere cold. I was always full of anger and I kept getting into fights with people who were up to no good. My mother was a captain, and she called me Thorvir. There’s a ton more like that. All of them are a bit odd. I just don’t know what any of it means.”

Maybe he is not the Angel Akrasiel reborn. If he was, wouldn’t his dreams call him as such? Despite that, maybe this Reuel person is someone important. Maybe he was a god or something? I don’t know what to make of this Magnus or the human. Thinking about this rebirth stuff makes me realize something. If the Angel Akrasiel can be reborn, couldn’t the other gods? The ones who seek to destroy or conquer us… Or even our older gods of the Arcane such as this Nabu? I look up at Ralodan. “Do you think that the gods who sought to conquer or destroy us would also be reborn like the Angel Akrasiel?”

He shrugs. “I suppose that would make sense. I suppose if it works for one, it should work for the others. You are right, for some odd reason. After all, usually, these things are universal and consistent.”

“You’re probably right.” Now I’m left with another question: who is Reuel and what does it all mean?

“Well, I’ll leave you to practice now that you’ve found the flow,” he says with a smile.

“Thank you so much for your help,” I say and he just gives me that smile and nods before leaving.

I close my eyes and find that same feeling. That flow. This time it is not as hard as before. I suppose, once you see it, once you understand it, it just comes naturally. Once I enter the flow state, it feels so right. I see how things work. How they are. I take the flow and direct it through the crystal and I’m astonished when a flow of warm yellow light comes out. It’s so full of joy, but it’s not exactly pure. It’s mostly Divine, but there’s still some Arcane inside it. Not just Arcane, but something else. Something… Green. It mixes with the Arcane and Divine, giving this light a yellow hue, but it’s neither Divine nor is it Arcane. I separate the three and study each of them. The Arcane I know quite well. It is the light that dwells inside me in a near ocean. I can feel it within me, burning. It also swarms around my invisible ring. That is how he was able to see it…

The Divine Light is something different. It is pure white. Not only is it joy, but it is also justice. It lacks the chaos that Arcane has. It’s pure order. A Light that heals and protects. It seeks to still the chaos and bring peace and stability.

My gaze then lands on the green light. It’s not that different from the Divine Light, but it lacks its order. It’s not exactly chaotic, but it is caught somewhere in between order and chaos. Struggling to find both. The green also heals. And it seeks to grow and flourish. It also clings to the other two lights, seeking their warmth. The green light seems to flourish when it is connected with them. Not only that, it makes them grow stronger as well. That is odd… What is this green light? What does it represent? I seek it out and find more of it within me, which is even stranger yet. There’s actually quite a bit of it inside me. I never noticed it before because it is so intertwined with the Arcane Light, and rather silent compared to it, yet it makes the Arcane stronger and brighter. What could it possibly be, and why does it react like this? It’s strange.

I decide to seek out more of it. I head outside of my room and follow the flow of the lights. Arcane and Divine Light seem to struggle with each to fill the room. Not quite like oil and water, because they seem to meld into each other somewhat, but not completely. The chaos within the Arcane Flame seems to propel the Divine Light, and the Divine Light struggles to bring order to the chaos within the Arcane light. yet the two seem to merge with a benevolent joyfulness within both of them.

I follow the flow and stop when I come across another being that swells with both of them, along with that green Light. “Hey, Lura, you okay?”

I pull myself out of the flow to find Chalia looking at me with a worried expression. “You look as if you’re kind of out of it.”

I smile at her. “I did it, Chalia. The flow that Ralodan spoke of. I discovered it and it is incredible.”

She narrows her eyes. “Really? How so?”

“I can see the flow of energies within the air and within us. It’s so beautiful,” I say.

“How did you do it?” she asks.

“You just have to let go of control and open your eyes. See the Light and the flame for what they are. Once you discover what they are, you can see it flow. It’s amazing,” I say, unable to contain my excitement.

She tilts her head, biting her lip. “I guess I will give it a try, then.”

She then heads off to her own room. I return to the flow and follow it, finding the white and blue rivers fighting and melding with each other down the halls. It’s strange how there is no green light in the air. How come? I only seem to find it within people. What is it?

I head out to the courtyard and gasp, quickly becoming overwhelmed. The green light is everywhere outside. Within the green grass and in the little pollen that gets carried by the gentle breeze. It’s in the trees, the flowers, and it even shines down in the sunlight. I suddenly understand what it is. It’s life. The green light is life itself. That’s why it seems to cling to the other two lights. And that’s why it seems to blossom and grow. It flourishes under the light of the others, in turn giving them strength as well. This is truly the most beautiful and majestic thing I’ve ever seen and felt. I remember now what Akrasiel said about life.

The Celestial life seeks to spread and blossom

That is what this energy is called. Celestial life. I breathe in the air and in turn take in the Light. Filling myself with life. It feels so refreshing. So vibrant and alive. I always want to feel it.

—

After finding the flow, forming a point with the Light feels as easy as lifting my finger. I just take the particles of the Light in the air and weave them together, brightening the shine. I realize now what Ralodan had done at lunch and how he was able to control the brightness. It was about the concentration of these tiny little flecks of Light. He concentrated them within a focal point, enough to give a faint glow without becoming too dense.

Of course, I passed the test easily enough. This makes Biremeril frustrated. He can’t quite figure out how to get the Light to form a point. Meanwhile, Melyis also passed, and I assume Ralodan showed her as well. The two seem to grow closer and closer. I pull Biremeril aside and teach him how to reach the state of flow.

It takes him a good deal of explaining, lots of questions, and a few demonstrations before it finally clicks for him. Chalia also finds it and so does Charinva. I assume Charinva figured it out solely based on what Ralodan said at lunch. She’s so smart. She’s still quite surprised that she hasn’t found it mentioned in any text. It seems few people know of the flow, or are reluctant to talk about it.

With this flow, the lessons we have to learn at each level seem so easy. Healing is as simple as weaving those tiny flecks of Light within the cut and pulling the torn flesh, muscle, and veins together as if I was sewing a quilt or dress. The Light does most of the work, mending the flesh and muscles. Cleansing and purifying diseases and illnesses is not that different. Using the Light, you let it flow through the body, burning up the corruption within it. It’s nothing more than that.

The Sisters are astonished at our progress and ease. It seems none of them know the flow. How were they able to do all this without the flow? It seems impossible to do it without seeing the flow of the Light. Even the spells I thought were so difficult within the books I borrow from Charinva are now so simple. It’s just a matter of directing the flow in order to get that result. Like with transmutation. When I look at the metal, I can see the tiny particles within it. I just have to weave their flow to extract what is needed to change it into something else. Of course, it is the thing I extract that presents the danger, and vice versa for doing the opposite. Of course, to do the opposite, you have to extract what is needed from part of it and put it into the rest of it. Like with turning iron into gold, it seems like you’re left with less, but in truth, the gold is far more than the iron. It makes so much sense now.

Of course, it’s quite difficult to take the air and make it gold. I would nearly suffocate myself trying to draw enough air in to make an adequate amount of gold. Besides, air itself is more complicated than I originally believed. There isn’t just one kind of air. It’s mixed with so many different kinds of air, if that makes any sense. I don’t know how else to explain it. I take a little pleasure when I surpass Olizara Greatgazer, the girl who taught my first class as a Novice. She was not happy about it, but there’s nothing she could do.

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