Broken Souls – Chapter 69

fantasy, fantasy novel, Fantasy book, Fantasy story, elves, vikings

Bothvar Beorcolsson

We return to the village just in time to gather with the others. Eawyn steps in front of the crowd. “Another winter has come and gone. Spring has brought its blossoms, and soon summer will be upon us. Raids will begin, and we will earn our continued survival. We must not forget that we may be separate clans, but we are all of one people. People of the North. One tribe, one heart, and one mind. There will be a time when we must put our differences aside to come together as one tribe under one kingdom once again. When we will be faced with an enemy that seeks to destroy who we are to make us what we are not. The Southerners only seek to make us servants of their Tyrant Usurper. Will any of you bend the knee?”

The crowd roars a defining answer of its refusal to bow down. Eawyn waits for the crowd to die down before she continues. “Then you must stand together and fight for your freedom. You must set aside your petty squabbles.”

She looks right at my father and the Earl of the Wolf Clan. “You must put aside your hate for each other and fight side by side with your rivals. Only when we unite as one clan can we be victorious. Remember, when you raid this summer, you raid as one clan. Everything we take from the Southerners is a victory towards not just our freedom from their tyranny, but our rule over these lands. Not just these lands, but all human lands.”

The crowd cheers its approval, whistling, clapping their hands, and stomping the ground. “Now we depart from each other and go our separate ways for now. But soon, war will be upon us. Ready yourselves and prepare for it. Until then, take what you can from the Southerners and show them why it is wise to fear us.”

The crowd erupts in a deafening roar, clapping each other on the shoulders, raising their fists, and hollering their approval again. After things die down, we all slowly disperse. 

Scyra comes up to me and extends her hand. I nod, taking it and giving it a shake. “Take care, Shadow Killer. I hope we meet again.”

“You as well. Ice Wielder. We will meet again. From what it sounds like, war is coming sooner or later. It would be an honor to fight by your side,” I say. I really do need to come up with better names… Ice Wielder, really?

“As it would be for me to fight by yours,” she says with a smile. “Now take care of your family. I’ll keep in touch with the yeti.”

“That would be much appreciated. And you take care of yours,” I say. We nod and part ways.

I say goodbye to Amalasontha and Amalgunda, as they both show me great honor. Father had to meet one last time with Eawyn and the others before he joins us.

Now comes the hard part. Bodvar is not happy about going with the Wolves. None of us really are. Slaves pile all the things Bodvar brought with him. Father assures him that they will send someone over with the rest of his things that he will need. He makes a long list of the stuff he wants to be brought over.

Bodvar stomps and throws a tantrum about having to live with them. “This isn’t fair! Why do I have to go to the filthy Wolf Clan? Why can’t Thormar go? I’ve got my own purpose. I haven’t even been able to raid yet. I hate them. I hate them all.”

I take a deep breath in and pull him aside. I feel sorry for him. I don’t know if I hate them as much as he or father, but I do feel a strong disliking towards some of them. At least for Vidkunn and Bjarni. I have to admit that I kind of respect the twins, Baldric and Siv. At least from what I’ve heard and seen of them. I don’t necessarily like them, but it is like that of a bear respecting a wolf. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t kill them if I had to, but those two are different from the elder two. There is something in their eyes that shows how different they are. I feel that we are not that different from each other. I feel some kind of bond that warriors feel for one another. It’s like a brotherhood. Of course, they are all warriors. I cannot deny that. “Listen, little brother, you can’t always choose your fights. All you can do is make the best of what you have. Besides, haven’t you seen Vidkunn’s daughters? I hear they are very pleasant on the eyes. Very beautiful. I also hear they are fierce warriors. Maidens in every sense of the word.”

“Really?” Bodvar asks, slanting his head in obvious skepticism.

“I would not lie to you,” I say, and I am not lying. Surprisingly, the oaf somehow was given beautiful daughters. Obviously, it was his wife who gave them to him, since he is as ugly as a cow pie, not that I am a good judge of a man’s handsomeness.

“I just don’t know… There’s no way they can be that skilled in fighting. Not like us,” he says.

“Possibly. But don’t you want to bed a pretty woman?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I mean, I guess. I like Vigdis.”

I crank my head to the side at his preference. Vigdis? Solmund’s youngest sister? She is his age, but she is not one I’d consider pretty. She definitely has the potential to be a great warrior and is rather fearless, but pretty? No. Definitely not like Arngunn. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes upon. I’ll admit that Scyra is a close second. She had eyes I’d never seen before aside from her mother, along with that unnatural snow-white hair. And her face is as beautiful as it gets next to Arngunn’s. “Vigdis? Why her? Why not someone like Einar’s daughter, Thorgunna? Or even her sister Gudfrid? She might be on the more masculine side, but she has a pretty face.”

“Gudfrid, maybe. I seen her knock a man out once. That got me excited. But Vigdis is fearless. She knows how to have fun. I want a woman that can keep up with me and knows how to have fun,” he says.

Now I understand, he just wants a woman as crazy as he is. That makes sense, I guess. “Well, my brother, you are in luck. There is no one crazier than those Wolf women. They are beyond crazy.”

He narrows his eyes, tilting his head. Then runs a hand through his blonde hair. “What do you mean, crazy? I don’t want a woman who doesn’t have a full quiver. Definitely no one like Throst’s daughter, Arngunn. Or Grom’s woman. Or his sister. They are crazy. One moment they are all nice and the next moment they are screaming at you. I don’t want that.”

I laugh hard. “No… Not that kind of crazy. I heard they’re more like you. They have a thirst for battle and adventure. All the Wolf women do. They love to fight and raid. For the sake of the gods, they have wolves for pets. That’s the kind of crazy they are. Completely fearless.”

His eyes light up. “Really?”

I nod. “You’ll have to be careful. I’m sure they’ll want to fight you.”

He scratches his chin. “Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. At least if they are like you say. Any woman who’s not afraid to fight a man is my kind of woman.”

My brother has always been an odd one, but I can somewhat understand his taste. I do find it sexy when a woman knows how to handle a sword, but it is not something I prefer. Arngunn would never pick up a sword. She didn’t care much for fighting. Once Bodvar says goodbye to all his friends and to my surprise he has many, our entire family gathers to meet with the Wolf Clan and, of course, they have their entire family as well.

Bjarni and his wife and son; Vidkunn and his wife; Vidkunn’s sons, their wives and children, and his daughters; and Bjarni’s daughter and her two children, Baldric and Siv, all stand waiting for us in the village. The rest of the city seems to have gathered around, including Eawyn, Kadal, and Scyra.

Bodvar pulls at my sleeve. I lean down as he whispers in my ear. “Which ones are Vidkunn’s daughters?”

I look at Vidkunn and find his wife next to him, along with his youngest son, Gadaric, who will come with us. Next to the young pup is Vidkunn’s oldest son, Thorgrim, and his wife, with their children whose names I can’t remember. Next to him is his second oldest son, Thorhall, and then there are his two daughters. And they are beautiful. One’s a little on the muscular side, but the other is around Bodvar’s age. I barely manage to fight the smile, trying to conquer my lips as I bring them to my brother’s ear. “The ones standing on the far right of the oaf beyond his sons.”

He nods as he eyes them. One of them has blonde hair like the mother while the other shares dark brown, almost black hair like the oaf himself.

Bodvar once again tugs at my sleeve. I lean in and he whispers in my ear. “Which one is the warrior?”

“They both are,” I say in a whisper. “I think.”

“Huh,” he says with a huff while scratching his chin. “Not bad. Not bad at all.”

We walk down to meet with Bjarni, his oaf of a son, and his daughter, who rather reminds me of a combination of my mother and her sisters, oddly enough. Maybe not all the Wolves are as stupid as the oaf. The oaf’s two oldest sons share their mother’s blonde hair. Only the younger one is as ugly as the father. Gadaric is the pretty boy who has yet to grow a beard. It’s hard not to doubt whether he’s even held a sword or an ax. The boy looks soft. Not like Bodvar, who might not be the brightest of us, but is fearless nonetheless and knows how to fight. This is a terrible trade. We are getting screwed. There is no doubt about it. Trading my brother, who has the potential to be one of the best warriors for a prissy Wolf pup who doesn’t know one end of a sword from the other. May the gods help us.

“Beorcol,” the old Wolf leader says. I heard he was a great warrior, but I only see a fat old man who’s gotten comfortable with his rule. Vidkunn is definitely an oaf, but at least he has the shape of a warrior. The only warriors with any potential are the oaf’s oldest son and his daughters, along with the twins of the old Wolf’s daughter. Those two I need to be very careful around. Something tells me they know how to swing a blade. Even more importantly, I bet they know how to lead a battle. Leading war is far more dangerous than only knowing how to fight man on man. My father has definitely taught me that. Besides, I’ve seen the wolves they command first hand and I won’t forget it.

“Bjarni,” my father says, without showing a hint of fear or hesitation. “Here we are, as agreed.”

“So, it seems. Well, no one can ever say that Bjarni Vikarsson has ever broken his word. We agreed to trade sons, and so we shall. Although, I have much doubt on how good of a trade it will be.”

“That we can agree upon, but from different sides of the argument,” father says.

“Let’s get this over with so we all can be on our way,” Bjarni says.

“Another thing we can agree on,” father says, holding out his hands.

“Then say your farewells to your son and let us say ours to my grandson,” Bjarni says and father nods.

We all turn to Bodvar, who doesn’t show an ounce of emotion. Figures all it takes is a woman of his liking to make him eager to go with the Wolves. I suppose that is something all the sons of Beorcol share. Well… I’m not so sure about Thormar yet.

My mother is the first to approach Bodvar. “Don’t get into too much trouble, son. I know you will. Just don’t give them any reasons to attack you. They’ll be all too eager to.”

My brother smirks. “Good, I hope they do. I’d love to test my strength against theirs.”

“That’s my boy,” father says, earning steely cold eyes from my mother. “Just don’t get yourself killed and try not to kill any of them. We don’t want this shitty deal to be for nothing.”

Bodvar nods, his smile growing even deeper.

“Don’t be such a fool, little brother,” Thormar says. Bodvar punches him in the shoulder. “Ouch, what was that for?”

Bodvar’s grin deepens. “I had to get at least one last hit on you. We won’t see each other for a long time. Who am I going to fight with when you’re all the way in Stormfront?”

Thormar smiles and then punches him back, which earns a laugh from Bodvar. Tears fall from my mother’s eyes. “I hope you boys never change.”

“Oh mom, don’t worry. We won’t,” Bodvar says.

Svala then punches him, too. “I’ll miss you, little brother.”

“Don’t worry, sis. I won’t be long. Once they realize I’m a warrior better than any among them, they’ll learn to respect our clan and I’ll be home before you know it,” he says with his cocky smile. She smacks him on the backside of his head. “What was that for?”

“Your head was getting too big. I needed to deflate it a little,” she says, earning a chuckle from us all.

Then Thora steps up and punches him in the gut, nearly dropping him to his knees. “For the love of the bloody gods. Who taught you to punch like that?”

“You did, stupid,” she says with a smile. “You and Uncle Bothvi.”

“You definitely had some excellent teachers, and you learned well,” he says, still holding his gut.

She then leaps at him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I’m going to miss you, Uncle Bodvi. Don’t be stupid and stay there too long.”

He hugs her back. “I won’t. I’ll be back before you know it. Don’t worry. We’ll be sparring with each other long before any war ever comes.”

She looks up at him. “Is that a promise?”

He nods. “Of course, it is.”

She steps back and goes to punch him again, but he was expecting it this time and blocks it. But he wasn’t expecting the kick to the shin.  That makes him nearly stumble over as he tries to balance on one foot while holding the shin of the other. “Bloody mother of goat shit.”

I can only laugh at the fool boy. He brings this onto himself for being such a fearless fool. I mess up his hair as he regains his footing. He tries to push my hand away and goes to punch me, but is not fast enough. I am, though, and land one on the thigh, giving him one of those stinging horse kickers we call ’em. “Bloody bearded pig fucker.”

“Oh, little brother, when will you learn you’re just not fast enough to land a hit on me?” I say with a smile.

“Maybe not now, but you just wait. After I show these Wolves a thing or two about fighting, I’ll come back even stronger and faster. We’ll see who can land a hit on who then,” he says, smiling like the fool boy he is.

“Come here, you fool,” I say, pulling him into a bear hug. “Stay out of trouble and don’t come on too strong with those girls. They’ll try to cut your throat.”

His eyes go wide. “Really?”

I only shrug. “They are Wolves.”

“That’ll be exciting. Nothing like a dangerous woman to make the heart beat a little faster. It makes the game much more fun,” he says with a grin. Stupid boy. I mess his hair up even more.

My Aunt Sigvor steps up and hugs him. “Don’t get yourself killed. I won’t be there to patch you up.”

“I won’t, aunty. Besides, they’re only Wolves. I’ll have more scratches from these weaklings than I’ll ever get from those dogs,” Bodvar says with a smile.

“Hey! We heard that,” Svala says.

“Oh, come on sister. I was only joking,” he says, giving her a grin and a wink. “Besides, it was a compliment. I was just saying how skilled you are at inflicting pain compared to the Wolves.”

“A backhanded one,” she says under her breath.

He only shrugs. My father steps up and puts his hands on Bodvar’s shoulders. “Listen, son, the peace between our tribes is stacked on your shoulders. Earn their respect and trust, and you will earn the debt of our entire people. Don’t let them goad you into doing something stupid. Sometimes you’ll have to swallow your pride. There’s no shame in it. Just don’t get yourself killed. Okay?”

“Relax, father. I know. I won’t do anything too stupid,” he says. My father pulls him into a hug before patting him on the shoulder with a respectful nod.

Finally, Bodvar grabs his packs with the help of the slaves and steps away, taking one last glance back at us before he heads over to the Wolves, walking past Gadaric who makes his way over with his own packs followed by a cat-looking being who walks upon two legs. I’ve seen them before. They’ve been on the elven slave ships. Few have even taken them as pets. Father looks at Bjarni, completely ignoring the boy and his pet. “Make sure no harm comes to my son and I’ll do the same.”

Bjarni nods. “That’s one more thing we can agree upon. As long as you keep Gadaric from harm, Bodvar won’t come to it either.”

Father only nods. “Until we meet again.”

Bjarni nods. Then father turns away and walks to our ship with us following behind. I take one last look at my little brother, who gives me a nod as he watches us leave. My eyes then meet Baldric and his sister. Surprisingly, he gives me a nod in acknowledgment. I return it before I turn and head for the ship.

The voyage back feels hollow. Especially without Bodvar to stir chaos. This day brings a clear sky with a deep everlasting blue and one of the three moons sits on the horizon.

No one speaks to Gadaric. He’s left alone with his pet. No one except Thora. She walks right up to him and eyes him. “You don’t look so tough.”

He looks down at her and smiles. He shrugs. “I know my way around a weapon.”

“I would like to see that,” she says.

“Have we spoken before? You seem familiar,” he says.

“No. I don’t think so. Why would I talk to a Wolf?” she asks.

He only shrugs. “It seems your family doesn’t like me much.”

She snorts a laugh. “Why would they? They don’t like Wolves very much. We’re sea people. We don’t care to be on land much. We’re true Vikings.”

He shrugs. “Clearly, you’ve never raided a caravan on the roads. It can be very exciting.”

She only shrugs. Gadaric points out into the deep blue sea. “Look… Are those…”

“Oh, those? They’re just my friends. My uncle calls them killer whales, but they’re harmless,” she says as surprise grips my chest. I walk over to the side of the boat and sure as the deep blue sky, a family of killer whales are trailing our ship. I swallow the lump in my throat. They’re always acting strangely when Thora is around. I look over at Thora and gape. Sigvor’s words really ring true.

“I can barely hear what they are saying,” Gadaric says.

She looks at him and whispers something I can hardly make out beyond the waves. He nods. What does all this mean? The voyage home is short, and no one is in a good mood. Especially Svala and, surprisingly, Thormar. They both stay to themselves. Home just won’t be the same without Bodvar.

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fantasy, fantasy novel, Fantasy book, Fantasy story, elves, vikings

Broken Souls – Chapter 68

Yeti, Aratheon, Bothvar, Viking

Bothvar Beorcolsson

Morning arrives, and I feel like someone is beating my skull with a hammer. I don’t remember drinking all that much after the first mug of mead, other than eating those mushrooms. Speaking of which, I have to… I rush out into the woods and take care of business. Too much business.

The shrooms I ate are nothing like the glowing ones in the cave. Not at all. The glowing ones don’t make you feel as if your stomach is brewing some witch concoction in the morning. The glow shrooms make me feel much better and more alive. Heightened in a way. The ones I ate last night made me feel as if I was wandering through Niflheim half dead. I don’t think I’ll eat those ever again.

I head back to camp after finishing my business to find my father up around a fire. I take a seat next to him. “Father, good morning.”

“You as well, my son. You want to talk about last night?” he asks.

“What about last night do I need to talk about?” I ask.

“Well, I heard about a fight with another crew… One particular crew.”

“Grom? He had it coming,” I say.

“Perhaps he did. I sure got an earful. He and Thrain want you to be punished for it,” father says.

“Punished for bringing justice? He stole someone else’s property and abused it. Not just anyone’s property, but Scyra, the Queen’s daughter’s slave. I caught him raping the girl,” I say. Of course, I didn’t know that at the time. The memory of Arngunn’s face still haunts me.

“This I didn’t know. That certainly changes things. If that is true, I’ll have to talk to Eawyn and apologize to Scyra, and then I will have a nice chat with Gorm…” He strokes his beard and I can tell he’s angry as he tugs it.

“Father, may I ask a favor?” I ask as my mother joins us. I nod at her. “Good morning, mother.”

“Good morning, my son,” she says with a smile as she snuggles up next to father. “I hear you had quite the night last night.”

I shrug as my father looks up at me and shrugs, too. “What is your favor?”

“Scyra has been in contact with a particular yeti I befriended. She invited me to meet with the yeti woman I knew as Blue-Eyes, whose actual name is apparently Shuli,” I made the hand gesture as I said her name.

“And what exactly is your favor?” he asks.

“I’d like the whole family to meet her. She’d love to meet you all,” I say.

“I think that sounds like a lovely idea,” mother says. Father doesn’t seem too convinced, but if mother says yes, then that is that.

“I suppose. How long will this take?” father asks.

“Shouldn’t take too long. Their conclave is right by those mountains directly to the east of here. Wouldn’t even take the morning to go there and back.”

My father nods. “Very well. We will go.”

I nod and smile. “Thank you. Make sure to tell everyone to bring gifts.”

He nods. “Now go get your siblings up and we’ll start breaking camp.”

Without another word, I grab a metal pot and a big ladle before heading over to Bodvar and Thormar’s tent, bursting in to find the two snoring. Bodvar on Thormar’s bed and Thormar on the floor. I start beating on the pot. “Time to wake up.”

“Urhh… No, it’s not,” Bodvar says, grabbing his pillow a covering his ears to block out the sound.

Thormar shoots up from the floor. “What’s going on?”

“It’s time for you to get up, little brother. And get Bodvar up without getting into a fight.”

I leave their tent and head over to the women’s tent, before banging on the pot outside. I’m not stupid enough to go inside. Aunt Sigvor pushes her head out of the tent flap and snarls at me. “Will you stop that!”

“Just doing what father asks. He wants everyone awake,” I say.

“Well, we are awake. You’ve done your task, now go away,” she says, shooing me off.

I sigh and head back to my tent to pack things up, stumbling on the horn. I take it out and put the strap I attached to it around my shoulder. Once I get what little I brought packed and everyone else finally gets up and ready, I head out to meet up with Scyra. I find her in the hall and she smiles as I walk in. Her teeth are so white. As white as her hair, which is the same color as the snow. She stands up as I walk toward her. “Hey. So mother is planning on gathering everyone together when the sun reaches its highest point, so that gives us plenty of time to head out to meet the yeti and get back.”

I nod. “My family has all decided to come.”

“Good. I look forward to seeing your reunion. We should leave now.”

A thought just occurred to me. “Let me get one more person that I know would like to see Shuli. I’ll have my family gather at the edge of the forest near the road out of here and I’ll meet you there”

She shrugs as I take off. I head over to my family’s campsite and find my father giving orders to the slaves to pack up the tents and carry everything to the ships. “Father, we are all set to go. If you can gather the family up and meet us over by the edge of the forest where the path out of Avala leads, Scyra and I will meet you there.”

He nods, and I take off running as I hear him shout after me. “Where are you going?”

“I have to fetch someone,” I yell back as I run out of camp.

I dash over to where I find who I’m looking for at the Valkyrie campsite. The Valkyrie warriors stand in alarm before they recognize me. One I recognize who fought the Bone Eaters steps up. “Bothvar Beorcolsson. What brings you here?”

“I need to talk to Amalasontha. I have a request I would like to make of her,” I say.

The woman nods, and she has me follow her to where Amalasontha is talking to Amalgunda. They both look up as we approach. “Bothvar. It is good to see you. What do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

I bow to her and Amalgunda. “Lady Scyra has informed me that she has been in contact with the yeti cub we brought to a new home. She is taking me and my family to visit her and I thought I’d extend the invitation to you, since you are the one who helped unite her with her people. You have as much right as any to see her once again.”

Amalasontha nods, her face going soft. “That would be very pleasant. I would like to see the Blue-Eyes again. Tonna was very fond of her.”

I nod. “That is why I thought of you.”

“You are very kind, and you have much honor,” she says, bowing her head.

“I would very much like to see this yeti as well,” Amalgunda says.

“You are welcome to join us,” I say and she nods in thanks. I turn back to Amalasontha. “By the way, Scyra has informed me that her actual name is Shuli, not Blue-Eyes. I guess she does like the name Blue-Eyes, though.”

Amalasontha laughs. “I figured as much. It didn’t sound like a typical yeti name.”

I smile, and the two women, along with some of her guards, join us. We arrive at the edge of the forest where my family waits. My father steps up and bows to the two chieftesses. “Ahh, I did not expect to see you both here, but it is much welcomed.”

“I helped Bothvar bring the cub to her kind and I would like to see how she is doing,” Amalasontha explains before she looks around. “Where is Lady Scyra?”

I look around myself and don’t see her among us.

“What are we doing here?” Thora asks as she walks up to me with her arms crossed.

“Yeah, seriously. I could be still sleeping,” Bodvar says, earning a good whack from father.

“You sleep far too much, boy. It is good for you to get up early. You might as well get used to it,” he says, chiding him. Bodvar shrugs and yawns.

“We are going to see a close friend of mine. She would very much like to meet you all,” I say.

Then I spot two women walking from the forest and recognize the snow-white hair with those piercing, icy, cold blue eyes that seem to glow and shimmer with power. “There she is. I don’t recognize the woman she is with, though.”

As they arrive, I walk up to greet them. “Bothvar, I’d like you to meet the special friend of mine I mentioned earlier. This is Thyia. She was with me when we met the yeti.”

The girl is about the same age as Scyra with dark, raven black hair in a braid. She stands like a warrior with a hardened face that is beautiful like a polished diamond and just as hard as one. Her eyes are a dark brown and her skin is a warm ivory. She wears black leather chaps with a dark black tunic with crimson trim and her hood down. A quiver full of arrows hangs at her back with a long bow along with them. A rather nice sword hangs on her hip with a black grip. Knives line the straps around her chest and at her boots as well as down the side of her legs. This is a woman who knows how to kill.

I hold out my hand, and she grips it firmly. “It is nice to meet you. I’ve heard good things.”

She nods. “I’ve heard a great deal of many things about you as well. Some seem to be a bit outlandish, but from my first sight of you, part of me wants to believe them.”

“As I have told Scyra, they are all overly exaggerated,” I say, and that earns a smile from her.

“Now I’m more likely to believe them. Any person who tries to downplay the rumors makes them more likely to be true,” she says.

I only shrug. Scyra steps up, her hand on Thyia’s shoulder. “Shall we head off? We’ll want to make haste if we desire to be back here by the time the sun reaches its height.”

We all nod and follow Scyra out of the village and into the woods. The mountains that contain the yeti conclave are not far, and the peaks are already within sight. It doesn’t take us long to get through the blooming forest full of pine, birch, maple, alder, and aspen. The leaf trees sprout green. Flowers bloom, giving off the aromatic scent of their nectar and pollen. It seems to blend with the pine scent that is all but overwhelming. Of course, I can still smell deer droppings and old carcasses of fallen prey. That and the smell of something familiar. The farther we walk, the stronger it gets.

We arrive at the base of the mountains by a huge rocky pass between two cliffs. We stop where the forest clears and makes way to the rocky mountain land in which trees cannot find the dirt to grow in. Scyra turns to us. “Wait here, I’ll go get her.”

We all nod as Scyra takes off into the mountains with Thyia. My father comes up to me. “I hear you’ve been getting close with Lady Scyra. She would make a fine wife and, as her mother stated, she is free to choose her husband. Maybe if you play your cards right, my son, you could find yourself with some white-haired sons with icy blue eyes.”

“We’ve talked about this, father. I am not going to remarry. We have too many mouths to feed as it is. Winter is far too harsh for me to bring more mouths to feed.”

He growls at me. “That is foolish, boy! You need to remarry so you can have a son to carry on your legacy. Hopefully more than one. Maybe even a daughter or two. You can never have enough children. You’ll learn that soon enough. It doesn’t matter how strong you are, if you do not have someone to pass the sword to, all you do here will be for nothing.”

“I do have someone to pass on the sword to. I have Thora and my little siblings,” I say.

“They are not yours, Bothvar. You will be Earl when I take the last voyage. You need a woman at your side and children to take over when you too take the last voyage. Do not be the reason our line ends,” he says, his hand on my shoulder.

But I don’t waiver. My mother approaches. “Maybe this isn’t the time to talk about this.”

I hear several loud footsteps approaching from the mountains. I pull away from my father and approach as Scyra and her woman return. A short bumbling furball of a yeti comes stumbling in and plants down in front of me. A scent of musty caves and the wild blows off her. She looks up at me with bright blue eyes. I tilt my head in confusion. I thought she’d be taller. In fact, she looks like she has gotten shorter. And she looks a little different. I can’t put my finger on it, but there is something that seems very different about her.

“Oh my god, she is adorable!” Svala says as she and Thora rush up to her.

“I want one!” Thora says.

“Shuli?” I ask, skeptical.

Scyra bursts into a laugh. “That is not Shuli. That is Sheko.”

“I knew it wasn’t her. I thought she was rather short, but she has those blue eyes.”

“Yep, just like her mother,” Scyra says with a smile. I look up at her wide-eyed.

“Her mother?” I ask.

“Yep,” she says as she looks over her shoulder at the pass. “Are you coming, Shuli?”

Suddenly a giant yeti almost as tall as a tree walks out with a huge leather pack hanging at her side. The pack itself is big enough to hold almost two people inside. My entire family and Amalgunda take a step back, but I step forward as I meet those big blue eyes that I know very well. There is no mistaking them. With my hands, I say her name as Scyra taught me. “Shuli.”

Suddenly, I’m wrapped in white furry arms, practically being strangled. I’m nearly smothered before she finally sets me down. Her big hand then messes up my hair like I’ve done to her so many times. She smells just like she did back in the Northern mountains. Full of that musty cave scent, but I can still smell the scent of death on her along with the shadow.

My family had their weapons out, but thankfully, Amalasontha and Scyra stopped them from doing anything stupid. With my hands, I tell her it is so good to see her, and she does the same. I then step back to introduce my family to her. First, I start with a familiar face, bringing Amalasontha forward. She recognizes her immediately and pulls her into a big bear hug. I still can’t believe how big she’s gotten. Taller than even Kveldulf of the Giant Clan.

She finally puts the woman down and messes up her hair as she did to me. Amalasontha introduces her to Amalgunda, calling the woman her mate, which makes my eyes go wide. Then Shuli messes up her hair as she did with us. Scyra steps up beside me. “You know, thanks to you, she thinks that’s a form of greeting.”

That makes me boom out laughing. “If we ever meet another race of people who speak another language, remind me to be wary of what I do.”

She giggles. “I’ll try to.”

Amalasontha tells Shuli she is pleased to see her again. She missed her and is happy to see her doing well. That’s when I notice another short yeti lingering in the back by the pass. It’s a bit taller than the cub that Svala and Thora are playing with. I can’t help but smile as the cub messes up their hair.

Amalasontha pulls the spear from her back and presents it to Shuli. Shuli takes it with enthusiasm. Then digs into her pack and pulls out a necklace of polished smoothed stones. She tells her that the stones are found in the depths of the underground caves in pools of light water, which I assume are the same pools with the glow ore in them as we found in the Northern Mountains. She bows her head and thanks her before she steps back and I introduce my brothers to Shuli. Telling her that they are to me what Ulluc is to her. She nods with a smile.

My brothers pull out their gifts. Bodvar, a two-handed ax, and Thormar, an hourglass. “Can you tell her? It helps keep track of time.”

I nod and use my hands to explain what it does. She seems rather excited as she turns it upside down. She nods her thanks, putting them both in her pack before she pulls out a stone hammer and a stone ax of her own, handing them both to my brothers.

Thankfully, they bow their heads respectfully and accept them. Next, I introduce Svala and Thora. I tell her Svala is to me what you are to your brother, Ulluc. I don’t know the signal for siblings in her language. She nods, smiling. Thora is a little harder to explain. I look at Scyra. “How do you say she is my niece?”

Scyra nods and uses her hands to explain it. From what I understand, she tells Shuli that Thora is the cub of my brother. Shuli nods in understanding as she kneels down and messes up their hair. Thora leaps into her and hugs her. “You have such soft hair.”

Shuli smiles and laughs. My sister then gives her a golden necklace and Thora gives her a comb. Shuli takes them with enthusiasm and bows her head with gratitude. Then she pulls out two little carvings from her pack. Carvings I remember vividly as I was the one who carved them. I gave her and Ulluc over a dozen wooden carvings. She looks at me with a smile as she hands one to Thora and the other to Svala. Then she explains with her hands that I carved them and gave them to her when she was only a cub and they have provided her with much joy and comfort. She has given most of the others to her own cubs, but she felt that my kin should have some as well. They look at me, confused. I explain it to them. “I carved them for her when she was a cub, and now she feels you two should have them to provide you with the same joy and comfort she received from them.”

“Awww, that’s so sweet,” Svala says as she takes one of the carvings before she hugs Shuli.

Thora takes the other and looks at it closely. It is a warrior that looks like my brother. Or at least as close as I could make it. Of course, his shield was close to Thorkel’s. Thora looks at me with tears in her eyes. “Is this my father? That’s his symbol on the shield.”

I nod. She hugs the carving to her chest. Then she wipes away her tears and hugs Shuli once more. “Thank you so much! You do not know how much it means to me. I will forever cherish it.”

The two girls step back, and then I introduce my father. Telling her he is to me as Ukam is to her. She nods. She then tells me that she is surprised to hear me use their real names. She says I never used them back in the Northern Mountains. She says her father never liked being called Longhorn, at least not at first. Her brother hated being called Short Snubs, but he liked you so much that he didn’t say anything.

I smile at her and tell her Scyra told me what their real names were. I tell her I’m sorry for not taking the time to ask. She pats my head and tells me she liked me calling her Blue-Eyes.

My father steps up and takes out a large two-handed hammer. Shuli takes it and it looks like a blacksmith hammer in her hands. She nods her head and fetches out an enormous chunk of gold. She tells me she knows how many humans value this metal. My father bows his head with a big smile on his face. I’m sure he’s pleased with that. An Earl can never have enough gold. Expenses are always pilling up.

Next, my mother approaches, and I explain to Shuli our relationship. She signals a response. “Shuli says she is honored to meet the woman who birthed me.”

My mother bows her head. “I am honored to meet the one who gave my son a home when he was away from home.”

I relay her words to Shuli. My mother pulls out a medallion with a large sapphire in it. “Tell her that this medallion is enchanted to protect the wearer from magic. If the Southerners have magic castors, they will not be able to hurt the bearer directly.”

Shuli takes the medallion with awe. I tell her what my mother told her and she bows her head to my mother. Then she pulls out a giant uncut red ruby. She says she found this in the depths of the mountain. My mother takes it and she’s very pleased. Finally, my Aunt Sigvor steps up. I try to explain the relationship, telling her she is to me as I am to Thora. Shuli seems to understand.

My aunt pulls out several bags. “Tell her, inside these bags are tonics and herbs. This bag is for fevers. This bag is to help heal cuts, and this one is for bruises and broken bones. And this bag is to help ease the pain to make it hurt less, but outside of that it doesn’t do much else. These herbs can be found here. I left samples of each plant so she can identify it and find it in the woods and mountains.”

I nod but look to Scyra. “Can you explain all that?”

She laughs and nods. Shuli’s eyes go wide when she signs to her. She bows and messes up my aunt’s hair before signaling her thanks.

“She says she will give it to her shaman and it will help many of her people. She is most thankful for this,” Scyra says. She then reaches in and pulls out something I’ve never seen before. It’s a glowing red cap mushroom. She explains that this mushroom, unlike the green ones, helps us connect with the spirits. She puts it in a bag with others and hands it to my aunt. My aunt bows in gratitude and gives her thanks.

Finally, I step up and take the horn out. Shuli steps back as she recognizes it. I then tell her that it was her father’s. “I found it broken off from him, and I kept it to remember him. I hope that doesn’t displease you. I felt compelled to make it into a horn to blow to make noise so that, in a way, Ukam could always be heard even though he no longer walks this land. That way his voice could be used to give warning to protect others.”

Tears flow down Shuli’s eyes and, before I know it, I’m swept up in one big hug, squeezing the breath right out of me. After she puts me down, she accepts the horn and makes it roar. Giving it a blast that makes the trees shake. Birds from all around take flight. It makes my ears ring.

She pulls out a pair of antlers. I’d recognize those antlers from anywhere. Shadow Stalker Antlers. She hands them to me. Then she reaches over her back and pulls out a large hammer of the glow rock. I recognize it. It’s the very same hammer I made for Ukam. She tells me when she was old enough to hunt several winters ago, she led a great hunt against the shadow beasts in the Northern Mountains and killed many of the wretched beasts. She reclaimed her father’s hammer that I gifted him and used it to deal death to them. She now trains her people to fight together. They gather many and will rid the mountains of the shadow beasts. All of them.

This time, I’m the one hugging her. I’m so proud of her. She came here as a lost cub and now I have found a warrior who leads her people. After we break apart, I tell her this. “From now on, among our people, you will forever be known as Shuli, Blue-Eyes, The Bane of the Shadows.”

Her chest swells with pride and she holds the hammer high, bringing the horn back to her lips to give it another loud boom. This time I have enough sense to cover my ears, as do the rest of my party.

I then tell Shuli that it makes me so proud and happy to see her so strong and brave. She tells me she could never have done it without me. She then goes to the pass and drags the other yeti out. She tells me this is her son, Aruhn. He is like his father, Bollelos. Sadly, he died at the hands of the humans who live beyond the mountains. The ones we call the Southerners. That is why he is weary of us. She says he will learn that we are different from them.

I nod and walk up to him. I then pull out my ax I made long ago in the mountains. He flinches, but Shuli puts her hand on his shoulder. I then present it to him. Hesitantly, he takes it and it takes him two hands to hold it.

Shuli then apologizes for him not bringing any gifts. It is a great dishonor to not give in return. She hopes he will one day mature. I tell her not to worry. Their presence is enough of a gift. She gives me one last hug before we say our farewells and head our separate ways. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

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fantasy, fantasy novel, Fantasy book, Fantasy story, elves, vikings

Broken Souls – Chapter 67

fantasy, fantasy novel, Fantasy book, Fantasy story, elves, vikings, Lura Syllana, Cathedral, church

Lura Syllana

The Angel Akrasiel said this:

The Divine Light seeks order, stability, peace, and justice.

The greedy Demons seek to conquer and rule.

The hollow Darkness seeks to snuff out all Light, leaving nothing but the dark.

The hungry Void seeks to devour everything.

The Elder Gods seek chaos.

The envious Arcane seeks to become everything.

The Celestial life seeks to spread and blossom.

Love seeks to protect and cherish.

Hope seeks to strengthen.

Fear seeks to weaken.

Despair wants to end hope.

Wrath wants to destroy everything.

Death seeks the end of everything.

War brews upon this world. Some seek to conquer; others seek to destroy. We must not let this happen. This I task upon you, find loyal disciples of the Light.

Those who have a kind heart full of compassion.

Those who are brave enough to do what is hard even if it goes against the masses.

Find those willing to endure pain, sacrifice self, speak true in the face of lies, and find the Light in the darkest of nights.

Those who you can rely upon for the truth. Those you can depend upon to do what is right. And those who are humble and willing to serve, yet still question what is said. A mind that doesn’t take what is said as truth, but questions it, will better be able to tell the truth from lies. It is questions that help shine Light upon lies, but it takes courage to ask such questions when everyone seems to take what is said as the truth, even when it seems wrong.

These are the people who hold gold in their hearts while having the skin of iron. For not all that sparkles is gold. Sometimes what shines brightest might not always be the purest Light. Just as whoever speaks the loudest won’t always speak the truest.

Words from the Angel Akrasiel written in Terel’s book, Terel’s Revelations

Reading this book has brought me much to think about, yet it feels as if what is written is the truth and nothing short of it. His words about how those who speak the loudest might not be speaking truths really makes me question our High Father. His voice is certainly convincing, but what he says seems… Wrong.

I put the book away and pick up the book for training. It teaches how to clear one’s mind and focus inward. How to block out all sound and distractions. How to focus on one’s breath and become one with the Light from inside. Then it describes how to channel that Light from inside and manifest it in a physical form. Of course, it shows that most elves either use Celestial or Arcane Light. The elves from the forest lands use the traditional Celestial Light they gain from the forest itself. It is a Light of life and is found within nature and in all life. The Wood Elves of the forestland are able to harness this Light. That is why the forest is so sacred to them. It gives them strength. There is nothing wrong with the Celestial Light. In fact, the Divine Light strengthens the Celestial Light. The two have always supplemented each other. Made each other stronger. For it is the duty of the Divine Light to protect Celestial Light. That has always been the Divine Light’s purpose.

As far as Arcane Light goes, it is a double-edged sword. Arcane is not naturally destructive, but it can be. It can also be addictive. It is powerful, but also it can be used to do wonderful and amazing things if used properly. However, the more you use it the harder it is to refrain from it. It attracts envy. However, Arcane and Divine are not enemies. They can strengthen each other, but Arcane is tricky and can be self-serving.

Once you can channel the Light from within, in order to transmute it to Divine Light, you have to focus on channeling it through the crystal provided. At first, this will take a lot of concentration for those not used to channeling at all, but with enough practice, it becomes natural and instinctive. Once you can channel it through the crystal, you can weave it into a spell. Spells, for obvious reasons, take a tremendous amount of focus, depending on the level of difficulty and concentration required. The simplest spell is to manifest the Light in a physical form outside of your body. To produce the Light and let it shine.

This requires concentration. On a side note, when performing any kind of spell, it helps to have an item to channel the Light through, like a wand, staff, or orb. However, with Divine Light, we use a crystal that not only purifies the Arcane Light but helps focus it, allowing it to be easily woven into a spell as a wand would with just pure Arcane Light.

I guess that makes sense. Unfortunately, the book doesn’t go into any spells aside from making Light appear. I guess to reach level one, we just have to achieve that.

I set the book down and grab one I borrowed from Charinva about Arcane Magic. I’ve already finished the books for beginners and have moved on to more complicated ones. This book is a bit complex with spells that look extremely difficult. I don’t think this is for beginners. Even so, I should put all of these to memory, especially now that I know how to channel the energy, at least on a theoretical basis. I still have yet to channel. Well, at least within the church. I can’t count all the cheap tricks I did as a kid that my uncle taught me or the time, I killed Phraan with it. I didn’t know what I did then. I should probably spend my time getting my meditation hours done instead of reading a book on Arcane Magic, but I really want to learn.

I turn through the pages, looking at all the crazy spells. Some are more difficult than others. My eyes light up when I find the spell on how to make objects invisible to the eye. That is one I learned from my uncle. He made it seem so easy, but looking at the spell itself, it looks rather difficult. And yet, it uses hardly any energy. It’s more about concentration. Focusing your thoughts on the object and manipulating the material of the object so light will affect it differently. The light bends in such a way that warps around it, reflecting the image of what’s behind it. The item retains its physical mass, but to the eye, it’s completely invisible. I wonder how Ralodan can see it? He must be able to see the manipulation of light, but how?

Another spell that catches my eye is transmutation. It’s similar to what we are doing with Arcane Energy, but instead of Light or energy, it transmutes the physical property of the item. There’s some complex explanation about manipulating the little properties that make up the material. It explains that a metal like gold has approximately seventy-nine of these positive particles. Iron only has twenty-six of these positive particles. In order to transmute iron into gold, you have to add fifty-three positive particles to the physical makeup of the iron ore. To do that, you have to break down part of the iron in order to take what is needed to transmute what is left into gold. This is a highly dangerous spell and can be quite sensitive. Even a minor mistake can cause a catastrophic eruption.

That’s disappointing. I thought I found a way to get the gold required in order to free my family. I could just transmute the gold from something like sand. Of course, according to the spell, you need to know the material in an absolute sense in order to transmute it. That means you have to break the material down into its tiny particles that require Arcane manipulation in order to see something so tiny. I sigh, put the book away, and decide to do some meditation.

It feels like I’ve been sitting here forever and yet the stupid hourglass hasn’t moved. Sister Jereno said it would only start once I am in meditation. Isn’t that what I’m doing? I keep peeking my eyes open to check the hourglass and never moves. The sand won’t fall from the top. It just sticks there. I sigh. I finally give up and wander over to the others to see if they have any luck.

I meet Melyis in the hall across from me and she can’t seem to get the hourglass to move, either. We head over to the boys’ side of the floor to find Biremeril first and neither can he. We reach Ralodan and as we knock and enter his room, he’s sitting on his bed with his legs folded and his eyes closed. “Ralodan?”

I walk up to him and wave my hands in front of his face. Then snap my fingers. Nothing. I look over to see the sand of his hourglass rising from the bottom to the top. He’s been at this for at least an hour. How did he do it? I put my hands on his shoulders and shake him. He finally opens his eyes. Blinks and then smiles. “Hey. Didn’t hear you.”

“You figured out how to get into the meditative state? How?” I ask.

“Yeah, we’d like to know too,” Biremeril says.

“It’s simple. You just have to clear your head of thoughts and focus on breathing. Sometimes it helps to also focus on your senses. Listen to what you hear, feel the sensations across your skin, smell the air, hear the beat of your heart, and just bring yourself peace. Here. How about you all get your hourglasses and we’ll find a nice place to practice,” he says, unfolding himself and standing up. He grabs his hourglass and follows us out. The more of Ralodan I get to know, the more I feel like he’s different from everyone else. The Light seems to come so easily to him. As if he is a part of it.

We grab our hourglasses and follow Ralodan out to the courtyard. We gather in a circle and copy Ralodan’s sitting position with our legs folded and our arms resting on top of them. “Alright, start your hourglasses and close your eyes.”

I do as he suggests and put my finger on the hourglass before closing my eyes. “Listen to what you hear. Feel the heat from the sun down upon you. Take it in and let it warm you up. Feel the cool, slight breeze upon your skin. Let the refreshing air cool you. Take in the sweet scent of the flowers. Allow the smell to fill you. Hear the sound of the birds chirping and the bugs buzzing, along with the sound of my voice, and the rustling of the plants. Now turn your attention inward. Listen to your breathing. Hear your heart beating. Let that beat take over. Fall into the rhythm of it and breathe. Slow, deep breaths in and hold it. Then slowly release the breath and let go of everything you are. Everything you hold on to and everything that burdens you. Just let it all go…”

I feel my heart beating, and I can feel the water of my body flowing. The wind dances across my skin and I breathe it in. I feel all that I am go silent. The worries I hold seem to release, like birds taking flight. My burdens wash off my shoulders, leaving me feeling weightless. I fall into a place where time and space seem to cease. Heat and cold find peace with each other. My mind feels fluid, my thoughts flow like a river, and yet they don’t take shape. I feel something deep inside me. This incredible warmth. A bright blue fire. It calls to me. I follow its call and become engulfed in the heat of its fire. It swarms around me as it burns inside me. It feels so good. So warm and lifting. I want to feel more of it. I want to drown in it. I want to lose myself in it.

I feel something trying to separate me from it. Everything seems to shake as the fire seems to slip. I cling to it. “Lura! You need to let go”

Ralodan? Is that him? I can’t let go. It feels so good. I always want to feel this way. My pain fades in the light of this flame. All those horrible things I’ve endured burn away and all that’s left is this flame. “Lura! You’re causing a storm.”

A storm? It doesn’t feel like a storm. I feel everything around me shake as the flame slips from my finger. I can’t let go. But… What about Ralodan? I need it. This is the way I need to feel. I don’t want to feel all that pain anymore. “Lura, please! Stop this.”

I let go and open my eyes to see everything spinning. Everything but Ralodan as he looks into my eyes. His own seem to glow with a bright yellow golden light. The sky has formed clouds and the wind swirls around us rather violently. There are rarely ever clouds in the sky. Not in the Shifting Sands. Only during violent sandstorms.

“Are you okay? We lost you there,” Ralodan says.

“What happened?” I ask. I look around to see both Melyis and Biremeril staring down at me with fear in their eyes as they brace themselves.

“You lost control. You must’ve latched onto the light inside. The Arcane Light. It ignited inside you and caused a storm outside,” he says, looking around as the winds die down and the clouds part.

Several people walk out into the courtyard, one being the High Mother, Mathienne Naesalor. “What happened?”

“We were meditating and…” Ralodan goes to answer before I interrupt.

“It was my fault,” I say, standing up and dusting myself off. “I’m sorry, High Mother. I lost control. I never felt anything like that before.”

She nods as her eyes seem to take me in while she rubs her chin.

“She needs to be punished for using magic without supervision. We shouldn’t allow a girl with such violent tendencies into the church. She’s too dangerous,” Mother Chaetris Rapidbirth says as she comes out from the opposite side of the courtyard. Her eyes are a blaze of fire.

My heart leaps into my throat. They can’t do that! This place has become my home. I don’t know what I’d do without it.

“That’s nonsense,” Mother Vedana Oddheart says. “This happens from time to time when someone is not used to the pull of Arcane Light and becomes engulfed in it. It is rare, but not done on purpose. She just needs a little help in controlling it. She’s got a lot of potential. There’s so much Light inside her.”

“I agree with Mother Chaetris, she’s too dangerous,” says Mother Aule Brasstruth, who’s next to Mother Chaetris.

“What in the name of the Light is going on out here?” the High Father says as he marches out with several others behind him.

“It was nothing but an accident,” Mother Vedana says.

“I will handle it,” the High Mother says, silencing everyone else. She holds her arm out to me. “Come with me, child. I think it is time we have a discussion.”

I look over at the others. They are all worried, everyone but Ralodan. He just nods. I turn to the High Mother and go with her. We walk into the Cathedral and up the stairs in silence. We arrive all the way to the top before heading into her private quarters. She ushers me over to a pair of couches with a table in between. “Have a seat, child.”

I do as I’m told, taking a seat on the couch. She sits across from me. Then waves her hand and a porcelain tea kettle suddenly steams before pouring itself into two glasses. The glasses levitate over in front of us. “You, my child, are blessed, but it seems you’re also cursed. You see, you have a lot of potential inside you. Normally, most people can channel the fire inside, letting it flow like a river, but some who have suffered much in their life have to deal with a storm inside. And you, my child, you have suffered much. Not just in your lifetime, but you’ve been cursed to endure the pain of an entire family line. It’s a harsh burden to put on your shoulders.”

“My family?” I ask, searching her bright blue eyes.

“Yes, the Syllana line. Not many know you’re one of them. If they did, they would not want you here. The Syllana line is one of the sacred Arcane lines. Same of that with King Volodar Morric and my own family line. We are the original elves that embraced the Arcane god. That is a little secret not many know, and I’d appreciate it if it stays between us,” she says with a wink before continuing. “I’m sure you’re aware by now that the gods of the other religions do exist. You’ve read the book, haven’t you? I know Terel’s notes have shown themselves to you. Have they not?”

My eyes go wide, but I nod. She smiles. “I had no doubt. You have the qualities he looks for. Terel’s a nobleman of a pure heart. He was a close friend of mine, the same as your grandfather. He, along with the other original elves to embrace the Arcane god before the fall, were all close friends of mine, and, yes, that included Terel himself. We followed the god named Nabu. He shared his wisdom of the Arcane with us and let us dip into his well of the Arcane fire. He was a wise god. Everything we learned from him we shared with the people that followed us away from our kin, who chose to stay with the old goddess. The mother of the forest. Your grandfather was one who chose to leave, along with myself, Volodar Morric, his wife, Terel Glarespell, and several others.”

This is beyond anything I ever imagined. “He led us to our own kingdom. Gave us the power to build this wonderful city. We became enlightened, but like all good things, they never last. Nabu wasn’t the only god who came to offer us salvation. Several others offered their own version of salvation. War broke out between the new religions. Our beautiful city was torn apart by fighting. We had an edge with our Arcane Magic, but then Ahriman, the evil one, brought destruction and activated the pylons, killing off the forest and sapping the land of the Celestial life. He grew in immense power and slew Nabu. This was made worse when our brethren from the forest attacked because of such devastation to their forest. They didn’t realize we were the ones who did not commit the atrocity and attacked all of us. Of course, we fought back, but we didn’t have the fight within us after losing our beloved deity. Fortunately, the dwarves came to our aid and turned the tables. However, the war cost us much, including the life of our Queen Immianthe Morric, which left Volodar devastated.”

“That’s awful,” I say.

“Yes, those were the parts left out of the books. Even though the war was over, the danger had not passed. Ahriman was still out there, and he wasn’t the only malevolent god who sought to either destroy us or enslave us. Other religions rose up. A new god named Vhezish offered salvation, but chaos followed wherever he walked. A god of complete darkness they called Deimos wrought terror and dread upon our people. A goddess Onoskelis deceived many into taking the power she offered. She let greed rise within our people, and, in a time when many gods sought power, it left devastating results.” The High Mother takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, taking time to center herself before she meets my eyes. “Those who were blinded by greed and power took it. This led to the rise of the Golden High Elf Trading Company and the Council. War broke out between the different factions once more. We tried our best to save as many people as we could, but we were overwhelmed and overpowered. We lost many good people, including your grandfather, and your family suffered much, being stripped of their wealth and name. Everything seemed hopeless.” She wipes away a tear that escaped her cheek.

“What happened?” I ask.

“A light broke through the darkness. Angels came down from the heavens. They were led by the Angel Akrasiel. He fought the other gods back, bringing us salvation. The other gods retreated, giving us a momentary peace. We were able to rebuild and prosper for a long moment. The other angels left, but Akrasiel stayed behind. During this time, the Angel Akrasiel taught us many things and helped us build the church. He gave us back our city, and we gave him our loyalty and service. But like all good things, it didn’t last. The other gods would not remain in the shadows. They attacked. The Angel Akrasiel had to fight on different fronts. He created avatars of pieces of himself to fight them all. But he was weakened by being so divided. Ultimately, he lured the other gods into one final battle to the skies above beyond our own battle with their followers. He sacrificed himself, unleashing the full might of his Divine Light onto them. I will never forget seeing his holy power unleashed. The Light was blinding, but it cleansed and filled us with so much Light. He gave himself to save us. Once again, we found ourselves without a god, but we were not alone. Akrasiel promised he would be reborn. So, we remain here waiting to seek him out. Now, you know. There’s a reason why you have so much potential. Your grandfather touched the source itself and was filled with it. He passed this flame onto you.” She leans close and takes my hand into hers.

Her eyes look deeply into mine. “I’m sorry for all the pain you suffered. We had to keep you and your family out of the clutches of those who only seek to corrupt. That is why we didn’t intervene when your father and mother became refugees within the outer rim. I so wanted to intervene, but there are too many here who would try to corrupt or enslave you for their own twisted purposes. I’m not sure how far along you are in Terel’s books, but you will learn that the shadows hide everywhere. Even where the Light shines brightest, the shadows still find crevices to hide in. Even our church has corruption seeping within its walls. We’ve done our best to seek it out and bring it into the Light, but it’s a battle we are not accustomed to.”

I don’t know what to say. This is a lot to take in. It feels like my entire world has been turned upside down. “Now, I beg you to please be patient. Practice restraint. You have a heavy burden on your shoulders. Within you is a fire that is strong enough to engulf even those with the strongest wills. You must not give into temptation and let that fire swallow you. I know it’s hard. I know what I ask of you may feel impossible. Once you have tasted the sweet Light of Arcane, it is all too easy to want more, but don’t let yourself give in. Find solace in the Divine Light. Trust me, its warmth can give you the salvation you seek. You just have to be disciplined enough to choose it over the blue flame. Okay?”

I nod. She smiles and lightly pats my hand. “Now, go back to your friends, but I ask you to keep what I told you between us. If you need to speak to someone about it, you can either come to me, Vedana Oddheart, Nostra Longswitch, or Damaris. You can trust us. Damaris has always watched over you and wants what is best for you.”

“She knew all along?” I ask.

The High Mother nods. “We tasked her with looking after you and your family. She grew up with a man close to your grandfather. Of course, this isn’t my story to tell. If you want to know more, you’ll have to ask her about it. I have said too much.”

I nod. She smiles that sweet, genuine smile that reminds me of my mother. “Now, go be with your friends. They need you, and you need them.”

I nod and get up. She hugs me and walks me out to the door. “And Lura.”

I look up to meet her eyes. “When you meditate, you’ll always face the call of the Arcane flame. It will always be there. You must not answer it. You have to be vigilant. Instead, I want you to hold on to the crystal and focus on it. There you will find the Divine Light.”

I nod, and she smiles. I walk outside to see Damaris standing there. She gives me a soft smile. “I heard what happened.”

“You never told me you were charged with looking after my family!” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

She takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly while she trades nods with the High Mother. “Come, let us go somewhere to talk where we can be alone.”

I nod and follow her to her quarters. She has me sit on her sofa with her. “Yes, I was charged with looking after your family and I knew your grandfather. Not well and only briefly. I never knew my own family, you see. I was orphaned during the events that led up to Akrasiel’s coming. I was only a child then. The man who took me in was a friend of your grandfather’s. I only saw your grandfather a few times before he… before he died. He was a brave and noble man who was truly loyal to the King until his last dying breath. He and your grandmother stayed behind to let others escape in order to hold off those who practiced the forbidden arts. They sacrificed their own lives so your parents, Volodar’s heirs, and all the innocent people could escape. And to make matters worse, since the Council took power, they stripped your family of their name and holdings due to their allegiance to the King. I’m sorry.”

I wipe the tears that have formed from the corners of my eyes. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t they go after the church? Why was my family the only one who was punished?”

She rubs the center of her nose between her eyes and takes a moment to center herself. “Your family weren’t the only ones punished, but they couldn’t go after the church. At least not at the time. Your grandfather died just before Akrasiel came. Once he arrived, no one could stand up to the church. However, after the Angel Akrasiel vanquished the other gods, forcing them to retreat, he forgave the council and those who controlled the Golden High Elf Trading Company. However, during the short time of peace with Akrasiel’s guidance, we weren’t able to reestablish Morric’s line back to the Throne. Many of the nobles refused to accept the rule of another monarch. Akrasiel didn’t want to break the peace, so they compromised and created a new Council. All was good until the Angel Akrasiel sacrificed himself to save us. After he was gone, the Council became corrupt, as you can see. The church was divided on what to do about it, most refused to intervene. Most believe it is not our place to play politics. I suspect some within our ranks might be working with the Council, but I have no proof.”

I let out a sigh. “So, we just let the corruption erode our city? People starve and suffer on the streets because of such corruption. Is it not our responsibility to weed out corruption?”

“It’s not that simple. You need proof. You can’t just accuse people of such things,” she says.

“Instead, we just let people suffer,” I say with a little more venom than I intended.

“No, we do all that we can to help those who suffer,” she says.

“That definitely worked well,” I say as my anger gets the best of me.

“I understand your frustration,” she says.

“Do you?” I ask, glaring into her eyes.

“I do more than you realize. Trust me, Lura. I am with you on this. I agree with you, but there’s nothing we can do. Trust me, I’ve tried all that I can to change things,” she says, closing her eyes to rub the spot between her eyes.

I let out a sigh. “I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blame you for any of this. I just… It doesn’t feel fair what we’ve all had to go through in the lower sections. What my family has gone through. What most have to go through, especially those forced into slavery.”

“You are absolutely right. That’s why I joined the church. I wanted to help those who suffer as such. Now you also have an opportunity to make a difference and help those who you know in Tent City and the Low Town. When you become a Sister, you will be able to help heal the hurt, cleanse the sick, and help provide for those in need. That’s how we help the suffering,” she says.

“But there must be more that we can do. What we can accomplish is as much as one person can by shoveling sand out of the desert. We can hardly make any impact at all,” I say.

“Perhaps it doesn’t seem like much in the greater scheme of things, but don’t discount the difference you make in one person’s life. You shine a light in their life, and they will carry that light and shine it for others. Soon, that light will spread. Besides, things will be better. The Angel Akrasiel will be reborn and things will change. I promise you that,” she says.

“Maybe he’s already reborn. Have you ever thought about that?” I ask and I can’t help thinking of someone specifically. It makes sense.

She eyes me suspiciously. “What makes you say that?”

I only shrug. “Nothing.”

She stares at me just a little longer before she smiles. “Well, you should get something to eat. It’s lunchtime and I’m sure you’re hungry.”

As she walks me out, I nod my head. I turn to her. “I know you’re right, it’s just, it seems like no matter what we do, nothing changes.”

“I know all too well how you feel. We just have to keep our faith strong and continue to do the good work of the Light. Eventually, you’ll see your work bear fruit. I see it in my own work. Just look at yourself. You’ve come such a long way, and I’m proud of you. I know you have a long way to go, and you’re still so far from your own goal of freeing your family, but just maintain your faith and I know you’ll see the day when you are reunited with your family. You just have to have faith,” she says with a smile that shines with hope. I nod and hug her. She embraces me in her arms and holds my head against her chest.

“Thanks, Sister Damaris. For everything,” I say as I pull back.

She nods and smiles. “Of course. You deserved none of the bad things that have happened to you. I just hope the Light brings you the peace you deserve. It works in mysterious ways, but it has a plan for us all. We just need to have faith.”

I smile and nod before I head to lunch. As I walk into the hall filled with Sisters and Brothers of the Light, silence suddenly washes over it before whispers break out. I don’t let it bother me as I grab some food and join my friends. They make room for me between Chalia and Charinva and across from Ralodan, Melyis, and Biremeril. Chalia barely gives me time to eat as she hurls a whirlwind of words at me. “What happened? Ralodan, Biremeril, and Melyis said you created a storm and had to go with the High Mother. Are you in trouble?”

“No, I’m fine. It was just an accident,” I say, not telling them the truth. I didn’t create the storm… I am the storm.

“So, what did the High Mother tell you?” Chalia asks.

“She just said I have to fight the temptation of Arcane energy and focus on channeling through the crystal. That’s all,” I say, picking at my food. It just hit me how tired I feel.

Ralodan places an hourglass on the table. “You left this back in the courtyard.”

“Thank you,” I say with a smile as I grab it. On the bottom, a number glows that shows how many hours I’ve accumulated and I’m shocked to see I have four hours from our session earlier. I look up at the others. “We meditated for four hours?”

Ralodan smiles. “Time goes by quickly during meditation.”

“That’s so true,” Chalia says and Charinva agrees.

“Yeah, once you learn how to enter the meditative state, it goes by quickly. One hundred hours hardly feels like a single hour,” Charinva says.

After we finish eating, I head back to my room and sit on my bed. I take my crystal in my hand. I guess I should give it a try. Maybe I should wait for a Sister? No. I feel like I can do this. I start my hourglass and close my eyes. I do exactly what Ralodan instructed, focusing on everything I hear, feel, smell, and then focusing on my heartbeat and breath. I feel myself become weightless and leave time behind. And like before, I feel that pull to the invigorating blue light. It calls to me. It’s so strong. I want to embrace it and submerge myself within it, but I fight it. I focus on the crystal in my hand. I try to imagine the Divine Light. When Orym filled me with it, I remember what it felt like. So warm and holy. It gave me so much joy. I feel that joy return as my body is enveloped in warmth. I feel so wonderful. Far different than the feeling from earlier; instead of the sweet, intoxicating power it’s a warm, joyful, light that encompasses me. It feels as if I have entered the Kingdom of Heaven. The Light lifts the weight of all the pain I’ve endured from my body. It washes away the past and alleviates the worries of the future. All that remains is this joyous warmth.

I open my eyes to see the room filled with warm, yellow light like that of the sun. It’s almost blinding. I don’t want to let it go. It feels so good. I want to let it engulf me, but I have to let it go. As the Light fades, I’m left feeling cold and a little empty, but not entirely. Some of that joyful feeling stays behind and resonates within me. I take in a breath and let it out. Then I grab my hourglass and see that five more hours have been accumulated. Wow… This might not be as hard as I first thought.

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fantasy, fantasy novel, Fantasy book, Fantasy story, elves, vikings

Broken Souls – Chapter 66

Icy Mountains, winter village, winter, vikings, viking, viking village

Bothvar Beorcolsson

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you haunting me?” I scream.

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

I let out a roar.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See what?” I ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She breathes and turns to me. “Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, but why?”

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

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

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

She nods. “I understand.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She laughs. “I’ve heard.”

I share the laugh. “I bet you have.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scyra bursts into laughter. “Bothvi?”

I ignore her. “Thora? Svala?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay then,” I say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I turn to stare off at the sea.

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

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

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

I laugh. “You are something else.”

She shrugs. “I am who I am.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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fantasy, fantasy novel, Fantasy book, Fantasy story, elves, vikings

Broken Souls – Chapter 65

Icy Mountains, winter village, winter, vikings, viking, viking village

Bothvar Beorcolsson

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What took you so long?” father asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where did you hear this?” Bjarni says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Amalgunda nods in return.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vidkunn stands up. “Gladly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For how long?” my father asks.

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

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

“I don’t like it,” Bjarni says.

“Neither do I,” father says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Broken Souls – Chapter 64

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Lura Syllana

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Words of the Angel Akrasiel.

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

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

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

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

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

“And?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Broken Souls – Chapter 63

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Bothvar Beorcolsson

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is that?” I ask curiously.

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

“What does it do?” I ask.

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

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

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

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

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

“Name it,” I say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiles and nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I nod. “Just stay out of trouble.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was indeed,” my father says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it, though?” father asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As we all will be,” Amalasontha says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Broken Souls – Chapter 62

Viking, Fantasy Book, Fantasy Book Cover, Fantasy art, Viking Art, Dark Fantasy, Epic Fantasy, elves, lura syllana, Beautiful,Elf,Girl.,Fantasy,Young,Woman,In,Woods

Lura Syllana

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Broken Souls – Chapter 61

Icy Mountains, winter village, winter, vikings, viking, viking village

Bothvar Beorcolsson

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ingithora sighs. “That’s the truth.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I object,” Thrain says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The crew all nod and relax a bit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When do we head out?” Rognvald asks.

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

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

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

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

“Are there any questions?” I ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Broken Souls – Chapter 60

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Lura Syllana

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And?” I ask.

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

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

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

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

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