fantasy mythology

Bothvar Beorcolsson

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why? They’re just beasts,” Vog says.

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

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

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

“What about me?” Svafar says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want one too,” Gili says.

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good point,” Throst says.

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

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Koll says.

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you will have it.”

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You hear them talking?” I ask.

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

“What is that in your hand?” I ask.

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No… Let them be,” I say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No one died of ours, right?” I ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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Lura Syllana

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who is she?” I ask.

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

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Bothvar Beorcolsson

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ve always been wise, father.”

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

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

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

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

“Can you kill the dead?” Thon asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Father’s orders,” I say.

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

“What are we doing?” Thormar asks.

“You’ll see,” I say.

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

“No questions. Just come,” I say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that?” I ask.

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

My jaw drops. “How old are you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You spoke with the dragons?” I ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sets the orb down. Then looks at a particular, rather ugly, necklace and meets my father’s gaze. “This will suffice.”

“Thank you again, for all your service. If you’re ever in the North, you’re always welcome here at Stormfront.” My father holds out his hand and Thon takes it in a shake, nodding.

I walk over to him and hold out my own hand. “It was an honor to fight alongside such a warrior as yourself.”

“I say the same, Bothvar, Giant Slayer.” He shakes my hand and nods.

I laugh. “If I am the Giant slayer, then you are the bane of them.”

“Then so shall it be. From now on, Bothvar will be known as Giant Slayer and Thon will be known as Giantsbane,” Sigvor says. He nods once more before he turns and walks away.

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Bothvar Beorcolsson

Night has taken over. We all work to help carry the wounded to my father’s Keep. There, Thon helps my mother, her sisters, and several of the slaves that Sigvor has taken in, including the priests and elves, help heal the wounded. I’m amazed at Thon’s ability to heal. His abilities even surpass that of my mother and my Aunt Sigvor. That is saying much since my Aunt Sigvor is by far one of the best healers our village has ever had and my mother, along with their sister Ingithora, is not far behind. But Thon’s abilities far surpass their own. Even they’re admittedly amazed. He can even reattach severed arms and legs without a trace of scars. With his help, the wounded are all healed as if they were never hurt. I finally relent and allow him to heal my wounds. A piercing green light fills me with warmth. It invigorates me, and the pain fades as my body is rejuvenated. My rib seems to mend back in place and the bruises and cuts disappear. That was a bit painful, but now I feel great. Even the ringing leaves my ears.

What surprises me, even more, is my mother and my aunts. I never thought I’d see the day they’d set their pride aside and ask for teaching. Thon is willing to show them his techniques for weaving the muscles and flesh back together as if he was stitching up a tattered pair of trousers. However, his stitching leaves the trousers better than they were before. Strangely, I can understand what he is doing as I watch, but I don’t know how to do it myself. Or maybe I am just not strong enough to do it. Even the Valkyrie Matriarch who arrived with her healers were impressed. And it seems she is a very skilled healer as well. They both use this strange green magic.

I slip away to make several trips up and down the mountain to gather several barrels of the ore water and a few sacks of the mushrooms, taking my brothers with me. We find a cave near the pathway to my own cave. I enter it to make sure it is empty. Thankfully, it is. It’s full of mushrooms and glowing ore. Fortunately, most of the ore is at the bottom of pools of water. I eat a few mushrooms and drink as much water as I can before I make the track down the mountain with two full barrels of water as my brothers carry giant sacks of mushrooms.

The Builders arrive, and my father makes a deal with them before they get to work. I help clear out some debris before stepping aside to let them work.

Koll finds me and pulls me aside. “Your father mentioned that you’d show us how you got your strength.”

I nod. “Get Einar and Throst and meet me at the side gate in the morning. Tomorrow, I will teach you how to gain this strength.”

He nods. “I look forward to it.”

As he walks away, I seek out Griotgard, Solmund, and Skardi. They are with their father, who was wounded and recovering from being healed. I pull them aside. “You three must come with me at my father’s request.”

They exchange looks and nod. They follow me out the side gate and up the mountain to the same cave we all discovered as children. The cave I made a home for The Longest Night. As we enter through the door, I built and inside.

“Wow, you’ve really made yourself at home here, Bothvar,” Griotgard says as they follow me to the pools of light.

“My father wants me to teach you three how to gain the strength I found here. Along with Koll, Einar, Throst, and Thormar. However, I do not want to teach them here. This is Thorkel’s cave. I want it to remain a place of solace and solitude. It’s one of the few things I have left of him that was truly ours,” I tell them as I look up at the hammer that’s rested there for so long. Still shines as bright as the day we found it.

“We understand, Bothvar,” Skardi says.

“I agree. It feels wrong to let others know of this place. It was Thorkel who discovered it. Others would desecrate it and seek to claim the hammer for themselves,” Griotgard says.

“We will search for a similar cave with the ore and mushrooms and then tomorrow we will begin training.” They all nod and follow me out as we head through the hidden passageway out to the root of the mountain. “Let’s stay together and be weary. This mountain is full of these fiends the yeti call Shadow Stalkers. They’re vicious and cunning and they too dwell in these caves along with yeti. The yeti we can bargain with, but the creatures of the shadow only seek to kill.”

They nod and follow behind me. We all have our weapons drawn. We make our way up the mountain until we find another cave. I can smell the musky scent of something living in there. I recognize it. “There’s a bear in there. Maybe more.”

“How can you tell?” Griotgard asks.

“I can smell it.”

“Yes. I remember when I ate the mushrooms last. I could smell things I couldn’t before,” Skardi says.

“Let us move on.” They follow me farther up the mountain, but a familiar foul scent catches my nose and I tense up ready to strike. I hear them stalking around. “The Shadow Stalkers are close. Stay behind.”

We slowly walk around a curve to find a cave full of them. They see us and several ear-piercing screeches echo through the mountains. They charge at us, but they aren’t as fast as I remember. I slice through the first one’s torso and carve a path, leaving a trail of their corpses. The fight is over before it starts as I cut the last one’s head off.

“These are what Shadow Stalkers are? They’re beyond revolting,” Solmund says, covering his nose.

Their stench is foul. Like rotting flesh. They don’t follow me as I enter the cave. The smell gets even worse. There are no mushrooms here, but plenty of the ore. However, this cave is far too corrupted by their filth. It won’t do.

We continue on until we find another hidden cave down a narrow passageway. I don’t smell anything so I head in. Thank the gods, this one is empty and there is plenty of the mushroom and the ore. This mountain seems to be rich with both. I turn back to the others. “You three might as well stay here and begin. Drink the water, eat the mushrooms, and push your body to limits. That is how you get strong.”

“Where are you going?” Griotgard asks.

“To get the tools we need.” They nod before I leave to head back to Thorkel’s cave. That’s what I’m going to call it from now on. I grab the tools I have there and bring them back to our new cave. Then I head down the mountain to the village where I find Aldam in his ruined shop.

I’m surprised to find him arguing with another dwarf. It looks like a dwarf woman. I think I remember her. She’s his sister… What was her name?

The two bicker back and forth as if it’s normal. “This is exactly what you deserved. You never took care of your tools anyway. Mother always told you to keep them in better shape.”

“Baggisli, will you ever shut up?” Aldam asks. That’s it… Baggisli!

“Is this a bad time?” I ask.

The two dwarves look up at me. “Bothvar. It’s the perfect time. My sister is only yapping like she always does.”

She glares at him. “You are a slag-headed, hollow anvil of a dwarf.”

“And you’re a molten brained, yapper, with a mouth the size of a cave entrance!” Aldam snaps back before he turns back to me. “Bothvar, you remember my sister Baggisli? She set up shop with the Valkyrie tribe around the same time I came here.”

She huffs, turns her back on Aldam, and crosses her arms against her chest with clear disdain. “See if I’ll help you fix your shop.” 

“I didn’t ask for your help. Don’t you have work to do? Hreitharr knows hard work is a stranger to you.” That earns him a glare.

“You are such a…”

“A what?” Aldam asks.

She lets out an exasperated growl, dragging her hand down her somewhat chiseled face. She shares the same bronze hair as Aldam that’s long and braided and the same dark gray skin. It now makes sense how they got the gray skin. I always thought it was just a dwarf thing. She’s nearly as thick and muscular as him as well. She walks off, grumbling. “You’re impossible.”

Aldam just slaps his forehead in a gruff huff. “Women! Even worse, sisters… Sorry about that. That woman is a pure volcano. Always quick to blow her top off over nothing. What do you need, lad?”

“I can trust you, right?”

“Of course,” the dwarf says without hesitating.

“My father has asked me to show those closest to our family how to grow strong with the glowing rock and mushrooms. I need some tools for them to harness the metal.”

“I see. But as you can see, my shop is a little…” We both look at the pile of rubble that was once his shop. “I’ll tell ya what, you help me dig em out, you can take what you need and I’ll help ya show ’em the proper way to handle Nedraetium. The dwarven way. We’ll whip your crew into shape and we’re going to make some of the best Nedraetium weapons and armor no one has ever seen. Just be careful. Ships can’t take too much of the metal before they become too heavy. That’s always been a problem with the metal and the reason the price for it is so high even though few can use it. It’s one of the hardest metals there is, but also one of the heaviest.”

I nod and then help him clear out most of the rubble from his shop. We manage to salvage most of his tools and fill a cart with them, along with all but one of his anvils. He’s got more than I thought he had. At least half a dozen. Why does he need so many? I haul the cart full of supplies up as Aldam follows with another cart. We head past the bear’s cave and the mess of shadow stalkers before we arrive at the narrow passageway. Then I unload the cart of tools and anvils before we haul it to the cave. Inside, all three of them are pushing the ground. They stop as they see.

“You’re back,” Solmund says. They’re all drenched in sweat.

“How do we know if we’re getting stronger?” Griotgard asks.

“You won’t realize it until you have to use it,” I say.

“Ain’t that the truth!” The dwarf snorts a laugh. Then the ore catches his eyes. “By Hreitharr’s beard, these mountains are rich with Nedraetium. And those emerald iridescent shrooms. Before I came here, I never knew there was anywhere outside of the Iron mountains with the metal.”

“What is he doing here?” Griotgard asks.

“Do you want to learn how to make the best armor and weapons out of the Nedraetium or not, ya insulin boy?” Aldam asks.

“What do you mean? We have to make it?” Griotgard asks, raising his eyebrows to the top of his forehead.

“Where else did ya think Bothvar got it from? He had to craft it. It’s a good thing he learned from the best and I’m talking about me, ya goat-brained slag shitters. Of course, I’ll give the boy credit. He managed to figure out how to smelt and craft the metal. It’s not a simple thing to do. Much harder than iron.”

My chest swells with pride. Some things will never change and that brings a smile to my face. “I’m glad you decided to help us, Aldam.”

“Of course. You think those thick-skulled, pee-brained Jotnar will just leave you alone now that they know where ya stay? They’ll be back and when they do, we’ll teach ’em how stupid they really are. Now, why are you all standing around for? Get to it. The metal won’t smelt itself. And before you can even think about smelting it, you need to be strong enough to pick it up.”

The three of them get back to pushing the ground. “What in the name of Hreitharr are ya goat-brained trolls doing? Do ya want to get strong, or do you want to keep pushing dirt?”

Even I look at him. How does he expect them to get strong without doing ground pushes?

“Who is Hreitharr?” Griotgard asks.

“He’s the Dwarven builder god who taught us how to smith metal, among other things. He’s also our ancestor. The first king of the dwarves was his son. At least that’s the rumor. Hreitharr left many, many cycles ago. He’s a crafty one and could build the most magnificent things with a hammer and an anvil. They say he has a peg leg, though.”

The four of us just trade looks and shrug.

“Come here, ya ram turds. This is how dwarves do it.”

The three of them all get up and walk over to him. He pulls out six thin dark emerald bracelets. Then he hands one to Skardi. “Put these on your wrists.”

Skardi goes to grab it, and the thing nearly takes him down to the ground with it. “What a bunch of goblin shit. I didn’t think you’d be so weak. We have our work cut out for us.”

“Let me see that,” Griotgard says, pushing Skardi aside as he reaches down to pick up the bracelet. He can’t make it budge after huffing and puffing in his attempt.

He steps back and blinks. “What is that thing made out of?”

I lean down and pick it up, hefting it in my hand. “This is that metal, isn’t it?”

“You betcha. These bracelets are pure Nedraetium. Made em myself for just such an occasion,” the dwarf says with pride. “Of course, you’re too strong to really see any benefit from ’em. They’re more for weak little turds like these three. But I guess we’ll have to start out with something smaller.”

The dwarf takes out a small tiny little pebble that also has the dark emerald color that’s nearly black, just like my weapons and armor. He sets it on the ground in front of them. “See if you arsefaces can lift that.” Griotgard steps up, and it takes all his might to lift it a finger length before he drops it, causing a loud thud. “Well, I guess that’s a start. We’re going to need to put in a lot of work to get your troll snots in shape. Let’s get to it then.”

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Lura Syllana

It only takes us a quarter of a season to learn what we need and pass the test to reach level three. Our next class is taught by Voborrie, and we’re given Sins against the Light by Amaranthae, another current Mother of the Light. Fortunately, the book seems to be brief compared to the others, and Terel’s notes at the back make it easy to learn.

The most severe sin anyone can commit is to take a life since it is the duty of the servants of the Light to preserve life. The other sins are less severe, but not by much. Lust of the body makes those who desire turn into lesser beings controlled by lesser urges. Worst, anyone who takes what is not offered or freely given when it comes to the acts of the flesh has committed a grave sin.

To a lesser degree of sin is to take what is not yours or not given on to you – when speaking about worldly possessions.

To covet and envy is a dark and slippery path to follow. It leads to greed, thievery, and even murder. This comes from attachment and possessiveness to worldly possessions.

Attachment to a thing leads to possessiveness and greed, along with the fear of loss. These traits can lead to one sacrificing duty over self-possession. Attachment by itself is not wrong, but it can go too far. If one can learn to let go, attachment can be tolerated. However, attachment can also lead to jealousy and envy, both of which will make a person irrational and erratic.

As the Angel Akrasiel said, it is better to stand in the Light of the truth than hide in the shadow of lies. Lying leads to more lies, and soon you cannot tell the truth from lies. They are like chains that bind you to the darkness. It is easy to drown in your own lies when lies are all that come out of your mouth.

Laziness, or better said as sloth, is a slowness in the mindset. A disinclination to action or labor. The field will not plow itself and food will not be harvested without the hard work of the farmer. Likewise, without the work of the priest or priestess, those who are ill and sick will not be healed if the priest does not act. The priest cannot act without the hard work of learning the ways of healing that the Light provides. Without hard work, the civilized world falls apart.

Wrath, anger, and hate are sins that are just as dangerous to those who wield them as they are to the ones who suffer from them. They are like poison one eats to kill the one he hates. It does more damage to the hateful than it does to the hated. You cannot put out a fire with fire, it’ll only cause it to spread. Likewise, you cannot put hate out with more hate, or anger with anger. You must put a fire out with water and likewise, only love, compassion, kindness, and hope can smother the fires of hate, anger, and wrath.

The Angel Akrasiel said that self-pride leads to arrogance, and that leads to ignorance. Pride is a complicated thing. It can be both a good thing and a bad thing. Pride in your work makes you work harder and smarter. It strengthens the quality of your work. You gain confidence in your abilities. But if you take that pride and put it in yourself, you become arrogant, and with arrogance, ignorance is not far behind. Like a young apprentice who believes just because he knows how to make a good horseshoe, he is now an expert and is ready to take up the master’s apron. However, when one believes they know it all, they will soon realize how little they know. The apprentice may know how to make a good horseshoe, but what will he do when someone needs a hammer? Without the humility and humbleness to accept the help and advice of those with more experience, the apprentice will only make more horseshoes to the benefit of no one. Ignorance is blindness. The only cure for the pride that swells the ego and leads to arrogance and ignorance is humility and humbleness.

Last is gluttony. To eat every day as if it were the harvest will lead to scarcity and laziness. Food only comes when the crops are grown and harvested. Food is not a limitless resource and should be eaten with caution. Fasting helps remind us what it is to be hungry, for there are many who suffer from starvation.

These lessons we learn from the book make a lot of sense and are rather indisputable. However, Amaranthae mentions attachments, but she never connects them with relationships. Most of her words on attachments are from worldly possessions and not with people. If she never mentions relationships, then why are they forbidden? That doesn’t make any sense.

“Why are relationships forbidden?” I ask the others.

Biremeril looks up. “Because they get in the way of duty and service.”

“I don’t know about that,” Ralodan says, scratching his chin. “To me, it feels like relationships only strengthen one’s sense of duty and service. Doesn’t love give us strength? Why should we not embrace it? I understand how attachment leads to possession and possession leads to the fear of loss, but even Amaranthae mentions that if someone can learn to let go, then attachment isn’t as bad as it could be. I think forbidding relationships is a mistake by the church.”

“I agree with you,” I say.

“And so do I,” Melyis says as she smiles at Ralodan. Those two seem to have been getting quite close lately. Once again, I feel that pang of jealousy. I have to learn to let go and not be jealous. She’s right, jealousy leads to erratic and irrational behavior. Besides, I now know the truth of Orym. He is still out there, fighting. I pray he returns and will forgive me of my doubt.

“I don’t know. Maybe,” Biremeril says, biting his lip. “But it isn’t up to us to decide. We can only follow the teachings and rules set by those who are above us.”

“Just because they are above us doesn’t make them right, and just because it is a rule or law doesn’t make it just,” Ralodan says.

Biremeril clenches his fist but releases it with a deep breath. I can tell he’s still uncomfortable with defying those with authority. I truly feel for him. No one should have to experience what he has.

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Bothvar Beorcolsson

The cave is just how I left it. The entrance was still walled up with the door securely shut. I don’t waste time entering the cave. I grab my armor and don it. With my weapons in hand, I take one look at the hammer that hasn’t moved, shaking my head before I rush out as quickly as I can as I see the giant ships reach the harbor. They’re much faster than I anticipated. I need to get back now!

I run as fast as I can. The armor is a little heavier than I remember, but I don’t let it slow me. I need to be more vigilant. I’ve become too slack. Too comfortable these past few cycles raising Thora. I’ve forgotten the need to remain strong.

The boats dock and men as tall as trees leap out, smashing our docks. They’ve got axes and swords as large as men. I enter the side gate to watch guards reluctantly charge the tree-size giants, only to get swept aside with a single swing of a giant’s gigantic sword. They were swatted away as if they were flies.

A sudden burst of fire erupts at the giant, engulfing it. It swings widely in a panic before it falls back into the water, creating a splash the size of our buildings. I look to the source of the flame to see Thon, the stranger, with his blade drawn and his hand held out. Lightning erupts from it and crashes into the water, frying several Jotnar.

More giants crash to shore as they leave their ships. Some of their ships crash into our docks, smashing them along with our ships. The Giant’s ships alone are four times the size of our own and taller than our walls. I can feel my own hands trembling.

I shake off my fear and charge at them. The closest one meets my charge with his ax raining down from over his head. I get my sword up in time to deflect the coming blow, but it makes my knees buckle as I drop to one. They’re strong. Real strong. I slice the giant’s shin with my ax and it drops to one knee. After I shrug off his sword, my blade slices off his other leg before my ax finds his throat as he falls. The crashing sound of their weapons smashing our buildings makes my ears pop and pound. It’s disorienting.

Before I can react, I’m sent through the air with a swift kick from a giant that’s so tall it could touch the roofs of our buildings without standing on its toes. I burst through the walls of the house behind me as I crash to the floor. That hurt. That hurt a lot. A groan escapes my lips as I try to breathe. It takes a second to find my breath. The wind got knocked right out of me. I think I cracked a rib. It hurts to breathe. I force myself back onto my feet, noticing women and children hiding, eyes full of fear and tears. I wave my hands at them. “Run to the forest!”

I charge back out of the house as the giants bash their way through our town. However, a good many of them have died from the magic and blade of the spell sword. I have no idea what kind of magic he’s using, but his strange sword seems to suck the life out of them when it pierces into them. I’m glad we didn’t make him our enemy.

Aldam Bronzehammer leaps from the top of a building and brings his massive Warhammer down on the head of a giant, bashing his skull into porridge as his brains splatter everywhere. The dwarf charges at another one, leaping aside of a downward chop of the giant’s ax before he swings his hammer against his knee. The giant roars out in agony as his knee buckles before Aldam swings and hits the back of his other knee, sending him crashing to the ground. He leaps on him and squashes his head like a pumpkin.

I duck out of a slash that destroys the wall behind me. Pain seizes my side as an enormous fist smashes against my head, slamming me into the rubble of the wall behind me. I barely get my sword up as his blade comes crashing down. I deflect the blow to the side and roll into his sword, causing him to drop it. Forcing myself up, I push through the blinding pain as my blade guts the giant, sending his intestines falling out. As he tries to keep them in, my ax finds his heart.

Several men try to form a shield wall, but the giant’s ax breaks the shield wall apart with a swipe as if it were nothing. The shields don’t stand a chance against their mighty blows. The men get chopped apart. I let out a roar and charge the giant. Before he can face me, I chop off his leg. Like a tree, he crashes against the ground in a loud crack. My ears are ringing, but it doesn’t stop me from sinking my sword in its back straight through his heart. At least, that’s where I think his heart is.

I rally the survivors of the shield wall to me. “Swarm around them like wasps and attack their legs. Bring them down to our size and go for the throat or heart.”

They all nod. My father and his friends make it back and it takes all four of them to fight a single giant. But they manage to bring it to its knees and kill it just as I described.

I charge at one about to catch them by surprise and cut its hamstrings, dropping it to all fours before I leap on its back, sending it crashing to the ground from my weight. My blade sinks into its spine, severing it. Father meets my eyes with a nod of thanks.

The men of the shield wall swarm another, hacking at the giant’s legs and taking the giant down. Still, more cause destruction in our town. I meet the charge of another, dropping to my knees, barely missing the side-swing of its giant, boulder-sized hammer. My ax chops at the giant’s ankle and it comes crashing down to where I knelt as I roll to my side onto my feet and sink my ax into the back of his neck.

Vog, Solmund, Griotgard, and Skardi swarm another, slashing at its legs while dodging its blows. They bring it down and slice off its head. Koll rallies his sons and daughters to him and they attack another like bees swarming a bear after its honey. My cousins obey my uncle’s commands to distract and attack. My uncle draws his attention while his sons and daughters slash at the giant’s legs, bringing him down while my uncle slashes his throat.

My aunt Ingithora brings out a torch and starts spitting fire at the giants, burning them alive.

Several of the other captains rally their crews into the fight. Rodmar Asulfdottir leads a charge of men as they overcome a giant, sending bolts attached to chains into their arms and legs. It takes at least five men to secure an arm as they pull the giant down and hack at it, chopping off its arms and legs before severing its head off.

Brynhild fends off one, ducking and dodging its wild strikes before her son, Thorvir, leaps off the top of a roof, and drags his blades down the giant’s back. He is full of rage as he howls in fury before he lunges at another, slashing the insides of its thighs, bringing him down. The boy knows how to fight, but I’m even more impressed with his strength. He seems to get stronger as the rage in him burns hotter. I’m completely shocked as he catches a hammer blow with his hands and yanks it out of the grip of a giant. How is he so strong? He can even wield the hammer and breaks the legs of the giant with it before smashing its head into the ground. This boy isn’t mortal.

Lightning rips through the air and strikes a giant charging at me. I look back to see Thon nodding at me before sending a hail of fire at three of the giants, burning them alive.

Within the blink of an eye, he’s gone and his blade sinks into a giant’s chest. His skin shrivels up as life drains from his eyes, leaving them white and soulless. The skeletal body, wrapped in black shriveled skin, falls with a clunk from Thon’s blade. What is he?

I barely have time to duck as a sword as wide as my shoulders cleaves through the air where my head was. It chops down at me, crashing into the ground where I stood as I swipe my sword up and chop its hand off, spraying the thick, dark blood all over. It screams loud enough to shatter the clay pots behind me. I send it falling when my ax hacks its knee in two. I wobble and sway as my ears bleed.

Shaking my head, I don’t give it much time to cry out as my blade meets its neck. A loud horn blows out and the giants retreat back to their ships, taking slaves. I chase after one and chop at its feet, sending it crashing to the ground with a woman and a boy in its arms. Its head feels the slice of my sword before I pry the woman and child from its arms. They’re hurt, but okay. I go after another one, carrying away a little girl in its hand. I dart after it and slice the hand off, catching the girl. It howls in agony, swinging wildly without looking. I slice into its thigh and bring my blade up his torso, slicing him nearly in half as his organs all fall out.

The rest manage to get to their ships and sail off with some of our people as thralls. I look back at our town and see the devastation they’ve left in their wake. Most of the buildings have holes in them. At least the ones that are left standing. Quite a few are demolished. Men lay dying next to the corpses of both giants and Krakens. Our harbor is in ruin. At least the seaside harbor. The bay side is still intact, but most of the ships on the seaside are wrecked beyond repair. Thankfully, most of our raiding ships are in the bay.

I can barely move without mind-numbing pain shooting from all over my body, especially my cracked ribs and my ears. My father, Koll, Einar, and Throst are still alive as they help others. Same with my cousins and my friends. I take the little girl and make my way to them.

There are just as many giant corpses littering the ground as there are our own people. However, most of them are smoldering corpses or shriveled-up skeletons with pale, decayed skin clinging to bone. I can’t imagine what kind of magic this Thon uses to do that, but it’s clear most of the dead giants were killed by his hand. What would’ve happened if he weren’t here? We’d be sheep in the hands of wolves. And here I thought I was strong, but the giants proved just how weak I really am.

The survivors all wander around, lost and confused. Their faces are covered in debris and their clothes are tattered.

I spot Solmund, Griotgard, and Skardi stumbling through the mess of rubble. Even Gorm survived, but as a coward, as he and his men trail back in from the woods. Most of the captains made it out okay, too.

But Herlu Hallbjornsson lies in two pieces. I found Gellir Oswaldsson’s head, but not his body. The girl I saved clings to me, sobbing as we walk up to my father. I can barely hold on to her, as the pain is all-consuming. He gives orders out to those who aren’t wounded. “Gather up the wounded and bring them to my hall.”

He points at another. “You get some men together to collect the dead. We’ll need groups of men to move the giant corpses so we can burn them. Send a messenger to the Builders for aid in restoring our buildings. You there, go out to the woods and fetch my family. We’ll need my wife and Sigvor to help heal the wounded. Send them to my hall along with Ingithora. Send another messenger to the Valkyrie to see if they have any healers they can spare.”

My father meets my eyes as I set the child down and take off my helmet. “You did well, my son. I’m proud of you. If it weren’t for you and that Thon, our town would’ve fallen completely.”

“The spell sword was far more effective than me. Most of the dead giants were from his magic and his blade,” I say, as I hold my side.

“That might be so, but I don’t know anyone else who could take these giants on alone besides you and the wizard warrior,” father says, looking around.

“That Stormborn, Thorvir, could match their strength. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it. He caught the blow of a hammer and ripped it right out of the Giant’s grasp before bashing it with its own hammer. Aldam was also able to go toe to toe with them. I saw him kill many giants with his hammer. But that spell blade… It’s a good thing we didn’t make him an enemy,” I say with a heave.

“Speaking of the spell blade, where is he?” My father looks around.

“I see him,” I say as I spot him by the sea, looking out at the fleeing giants.

“Where’s my child? My baby? My girl. They took her!” a woman covered in dust and dirt yells frantically. I recognize her as Sigrid, wife to Thialfi, who served on my brother’s ship. I look down at the girl. Her face is too dirty to recognize.

“Sigrid, is this her?” I ask.

She rushes over to me, and her eyes widen as she rushes to pick up the child. “Maria, thank the gods you’re alright. I… I thought they… Nevermind.”

She turns to me with eyes full of tears. “Thank you, Bothvar Beorcolsson. Thank the gods for you. You saved my daughter.”

I don’t know what to say, so I just nod. Then I leave her and follow my father, limping over to Thon as he still stands at the edge of the shore, looking out at them.

“That was just a raiding party,” he says as we walk up to him.

“That’s what I thought. They used our own tactics against us. We were as good as defenseless against them. If it weren’t for you, my son, and our brave warriors, our entire town would’ve been lost and they would’ve been able to take whatever they wanted. You’re welcome to your pick of my gold. Nothing I have will be enough to repay you. Our village will forever be in your debt,” my father says.

He only looks at my father and nods. “That’s what I do.”

“Where will you go? You’re welcome to stay here. We could use a man like you. You could make good money raiding with us,” my father says.

“That’s not my way. I mostly kill monsters and hunt down criminals. I don’t care to fight in wars or raids. I don’t pick sides. Those who need killing are the ones I go after. The Jotnar surely needed killing. They’ll be back, though. You’ll need to set up better defenses. I suggest building up a wall big enough to rain fire down upon them. You can boil oil and let loose flaming arrows. But you’ll need to reinforce the wall with a metal strong enough to hold against their assaults. That’ll make them think twice. Maybe adding some ballistae and trebuchets wouldn’t hurt either. Also, it would help if you had casters. The Jotnar, like most, are weak to magic. Especially fire. But they also have casters of their own. We were lucky we didn’t meet any of them. Worst of all, they like to use necromancers who can raise the dead. Forbidden magic by most standards, but to Jotnar, they don’t think the same way. Fire works well against the undead, same with Divine and Arcane magic. However, Celestial Magic doesn’t.”

My father nods. “Sound advice.”

The two meet each other’s eyes. “Are you sure you won’t change your mind and raid with us? We need magic users to take on the elves. You’d make plenty of gold.”

Thon shakes his head. “That is not my way.”

“Fair enough,” my father says, shrugging. “It was just a suggestion. If you change your mind, we will always have room for warriors like yourself.”

“I’ll see to your wounded,” the spell sword says. Then he eyes me. “You look like you could use some healing. Here, let me…”

I shake my head. “See to those who need it more. I’ll survive.”

My father nods. “Your aid in healing will be much appreciated.”

Thon nods and walks past him before he stops at me. He puts a hand on my shoulder. “You were effective at killing them. The others seem to rally your lead. Thanks to you, they learned how to fight them. I’ll remember you, Bothvar. I see you’ve been eating the Luminescent Emerald Mushrooms. You’ll want to gather as many of those as you can for the wounded. Along with the Nedraetium water that gave you your strength. That’ll help your people recover and grow stronger.”

I nod and the man walks away towards the keep up the hill, which, surprisingly, was hardly touched. My father steps up. “The water and mushrooms he talked about. Are these the same you gave us at the end of the long night?”

I nod. “The mountains are rich with them.”

“Who all knows about them?” he asks.

I look up at the mountains, forever shrouded in clouds. “As far as I know, only Solmund, Griotgard, Skardi, and I. Thorkel, Asfrid, Arngunn, and we spent many summer days exploring the caves up in the mountains when you went raiding. Although I think the dwarf, Aldam, knows of the metal and the mushrooms. He has a hammer made out of it and wields it quite well. He originally told us about it long ago.”

“You foolish children. Do you know what lives up in those mountains?” he says.

I meet my father’s eyes. “All too well.”

“Is this where you found your armor and weapons? It’s like Aldam’s hammer. A hammer too heavy for anyone else to lift,” father says.

“I made them from the glow rocks up in the mountains during my self-exile. It’s what Thon and Aldam called Nedradum or whatever. The metal is definitely heavy, but it is stronger than any other. It can slice through iron as if it were water. But I couldn’t lift it until I tempered my body through lots of hard work. It took me all winter to be able to wield it as well as I can now.”

“And you gained the strength to wield this metal by drinking the water and eating those mushrooms? Is that what made your skin the shade of iron?”

“I don’t know if it is the mushrooms or the water. I think someone told me it was the mushrooms. The water helped make me strong, but my true strength came from hard work. I forged my body to be as hard as the metal I made this armor and these weapons with. I believe the water only gives you the potential to be stronger. Without the hard work to gain the strength, you won’t become stronger.”

“Why didn’t you share this with me?” father asks, his eyes growing hard.

“It was difficult, and it was painful. Besides, after I lost my wife and child, I made a vow to give up the pursuit of revenge in order to look after Thora. That is all that matters to me now,” I say.

 My father sighs. “I understand your pain, my son, but we all need to grow strong now that we have met a foe unlike any other. You see the destruction it brought to our town? It made our walls look like a fence of twigs. They broke our buildings as if they were made of straw. Who knows when they will be back, but I know they will return eventually. We need to be ready for them.”

I nod, seeing the wisdom in his words as I look out at the ruins of our village. But then I spot Gorm and his captain Thrain Haklangsson, who spent the entire fight in the woods. Cowards. I know all too well the dangers of giving strength to all. Imagine if Gorm gained this strength or worse, the Bone Eaters. “We need to be careful, father. This strength could be used to harm those we seek to protect. We cannot let men like Gorm gain this strength.”

“You are right, my son. You’ve grown much from that boy I remember. The boy who used to cling to his brother’s side. You no longer hide in his shadow, but cast your own shadow to protect our people. I am proud of you,” he says, resting his hand on my shoulder. “Here is what we will do. Once you heal up, you will take those you trust to train in the caves until we can salvage whatever we can to raid. Take Griotgard, Solmund and Skardi along with Einar, Koll, and Throst. We’ll start with them, along with Thormar. We’ll hold off with Bodvar and Svala for now. Take them to the caves and show them how to get strong after we get things settled down here. I’ll join you all once I can. Then once they make enough progress, we’ll bring their children and the crew members we can trust. I’ll convince your mother to allow Svala and Bodvar to come.”

I nod. “I’ll do as you ask, father. However, I would like to have Thora train as well. She may be young, but are you ever too young to gain the strength to defend yourself?”

“I will allow it. I will just have to convince your mother of it. For now, let’s stick with those I mentioned. She’ll come to train with Svala and Bodvar.” I nod, accepting it. For now, I limp and help move as many of the wounded as I can to the hall, pushing through the searing pain that overwhelms me. It’s hard to breathe, but I can’t rest. Not until our people are safe and healed.

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Bothvar Beorcolsson

We follow my father out of town to the lower peninsula to the south with spears, bows, and axes. A path I’m all too familiar with. We turn east towards the main road that connects Chillshore to Barefrost, two Southern-controlled cities. This is a dangerous land.

We stalk through the thick woods of budding spring alder, birch, and aspen trees, along with the rare yew trees and the numerous different kinds of pine. I can smell the spring blossoms. Along with hints of fresh dung, musky wet fur odor, and the overwhelming pine scent. The hoof beats make me believe we’re not far from a boar. “I sense a boar near to here.”

The others look at me, some with narrowed eyes and others wide-eyed. My father steps up to me and whispers. “How can you tell?”

“I can smell its fresh turds and hear its hoof beats,” I tell him. It must have been from all the mushrooms I’ve eaten and continue to eat.

My father doesn’t question me and signals for me to lead the way. I follow the scent and sound of its hooves and snorts, along with the bristling of brushes and the crunching of branches, confirming my suspicions. It’s close. I lead the others to the smell and noises. Sure enough, the beast is grazing.

It wasn’t that long ago I recall trying to stop my brother and our friends from killing a hare. How much I’ve changed. Of course, I did that for Arni, not for the hare.

My father signals for the others to spread and circle the beast. They plan on luring it into a trap with our bows as the others spear it. As we all get into position, my father hops out and startles the beast, firing off an arrow at it. He sticks it in the shoulder before it takes off running, but its path is blocked by Koll and Einar who prod at it with their spears. It circles back and signals a charge as it stares down at my father. I spring from my stance as it digs its hooves in and goes to charge. Before it can move beyond a few paces, my spear finds its neck, pinning it down to the ground as it squeals one last time.

The rest of them hesitantly move from their positions. My father, Koll, Throst, and Einar trade looks of shock. My father steps up. “By the god’s son, I hardly saw you move and then you had your spear in its throat. Where in Ornulf’s name did you gain so much speed?”

“I trained hard during my exile. I wanted to become strong and fast enough to kill the elf who took Thorkel’s life. I’m still not sure if I am enough of either.” The sound of a single horse trotting down the nearby road grabs my attention. “There’s a traveler on the road. Just one on horseback.”

My father and the others once again trade looks. “Let’s check it out. Thormar, Bodvar, and Svala secure the boar and tie its legs to a long enough branch. We’ll be back.”

“But father, I’m not a boy anymore. Why should I stay back?” Thormar asks with anger and contempt on his face.

“Because, if we die, I need someone capable to take charge and that is you,” father says, shutting Thormar up.

 My father signals me to lead the way, and I sneak through the woods to a spot to capture the traveler. He’s still a good deal away, but I can make him out in the far distance. Not close enough to make out any features, but I can tell it’s a man.

“Are you sure, son? I don’t see anyone,” father.

“Yes, it’s a man. He’s not far. You’ll see him soon enough,” I say.

They all wait wearily, giving each other questioning glances. Then Koll speaks up. “I see something. A figure, definitely on a horse.”

“Yeah, I see it too,” Throst says.

“I see it now,” father says, turning back at me, scratching his chin as he considers me. Then he turns to the others. “Here’s what we’re going to do…”

—

The man finally arrives. A man with onyx-black hair and strange, gray eyes. He’s armed with a sword on his back. He stops and looks around in our direction. “I know you lot are out there.”

Father steps out in front of him as Koll and Einar step out behind. Throst and I step out on both sides of him. He’s a well-built man. A warrior, but there’s something else about him. He reeks of death and something else. Something I can’t put my finger on.

“Where ya heading, stranger?” father asks, sword in hand.

“Anywhere that has work for me,” the man says, showing no appearance of fear or nervousness.

“And what kind of work does a man like you do?” Father asks.

“Well, I used to be a Revenant, but no longer. Now I’m just a spell sword for hire. If you have any monsters to kill, I’ll take care of ’em,” he says as his eyes fall upon me. They narrow as he takes me in and they stay a bit longer than they did for the rest.

“Spell sword, huh?” my father asks as he sheaths his sword. The others keep their weapons drawn. “Does that mean you can do magic, huh?”

The man nods, lifting his hand and producing a flame. The others startle, stepping back. Father nods. “Maybe you can help us. You’re welcome to come back with us to our village, share our food, and have a bed to stay in.”

Thon nods. “That would be much appreciated.”

“You’ll have to lead your horse. There are no roads to our village,” father says.

“You’re Kraken, aren’t you? I’ve heard of your people. A friend of mine grew up in the north,” he says. His face portrays no emotion, just a stone. He looks as if he was carved from one and meets our height. Few Southerners do.

Father nods. “My name is Beorcol Thorgrimsson. I’m Earl of the Krakens. That’s my… eldest son, Bothvar. He’s Einar Alriksson, and that’s his brother Koll. And that’s Throst Thorhallson.”

“The name’s Thon. Just Thon,” the stranger says. Odd name.

We lead him back to where my siblings are as they finish tying up the dead boar to a branch they found. Thormar and Bodvar struggle to carry it as we head back through the woods to home. However, as we cross the river, I hear the bells from our village. The warning bells. It’s faint. “The warning bell is going off. We’re under attack.”

My father looks at me, wide-eyed. “Are you sure?”

I nod. He looks at the other men.

“Did the elves finally find us?” Einar asks.

I take off running back as the rest follow well behind, not able to keep up. All but this stranger, Thon.

Thon and I are the first to make it back as the people all scramble in fear, boarding their homes. I found my mother with Thora. “What is going on?”

“A fleet of ships are on their way,” mother says, with her hands shaking as one clings to Thora’s hand with Sigvor behind her. She grabs my arm with the other. “Where are your siblings and Beorcol?”

“We ran ahead. They fell behind.”

“I have to go to them,” she says, her voice shaky.

“You, Sigvor, Thora, and my siblings stay in the forest. It’s safer there,” I say.

She nods and goes to leave, but Thora grabs my hand. “Uncle Bothvi. I’m scared.”

I lean down to look into her eyes, which are watering. “It’s okay to be afraid, but don’t let it control you. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise. But I’m going to need you to be brave for me. You’re going to have to go with your grandmother and help her find your uncles and aunty Svala. Okay? They need your help. Can you do that for me?”

She nods as a fire rekindles in her eyes. She lets go, and my mother swoops her up in her arms and takes off. They both give me one more glance before they disappear outside. Thon follows me to the harbor. The fleet she spoke of is on the horizon, sailing in fast towards us. I can make them out even though they’re still a good way out, a few leagues or more. But their ships are odd. Not elven. Not that different from our own but much bigger. There are only about four or five ships, but the size of them would throw some people off. They’re traveling swiftly, but I’m sure I have enough time. Time to get what I need.

I turn to Thon. “Those aren’t any ships I recognize. They look far bigger than any ship I’ve seen.”

He nods in agreement. “They’re Jotnar ships. I’m sure of it.’

My eyes go wide, and for the first time since The Longest Night, I fear a tinge of fear. I thought the giants of Jotunheim were a myth. Giants from the land of ice. “If that’s true, there’s something I need to get so I can better kill these giants. I’ll be back.” I take off through the side gate and up to the mountains.

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Lura Syllana

It only takes a couple of days before we all feel confident and take the test. All of us pass easily enough and move on to the next level, this time taught by an Accepted man with light, sandy skin, dark black hair and average blue eyes. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, with narrow eyes and long, pointy ears. He greets us upon our arrival. “Welcome to level two. I’m your instructor and advisor, Meifinas. You’ll find the book you need in the back cupboards. Teachings of the Light, by Nostra Longswitch. To gain level three, you must understand and accept the core values of the Light. Any questions?”

After none of us speak up, he nods. “Then get to it.”

We all grab a copy and find empty desks. Upon opening it, I flip through it until I find Terel’s notes at the far back of Nostra’s book. But that doesn’t keep me from reading it. Nostra Longswitch is currently a Mother of the Light and a close friend of Sister Damaris. I should take her teachings to heart.

I spend all class getting as far as I can within the book, and most of what it talks about makes sense. Through the Divine Light, you will find salvation. The Light will protect your soul. It is best to live in the Light of the truth instead of hiding in a shadow of lies. Find redemption in the Light for your fallacies, mistakes, shortcomings, and flaws. Seek forgiveness and earn redemption. Commit no evil, seek no revenge, and speak no lies. Good deeds have their own reward. Keep the heart pure. Life is precious, don’t end it. Act with grace and humility. That last part must’ve been what Damaris mentioned to that high-born Sister.

Most of the book covers Mother Nostra’s own accords and experiences with Akrasiel’s teachings. She recounts the miracles and blessings Akrasiel has brought upon the people; His gentle and kind heart, still with a strong sense of justice within him. He spoke of how you should always forgive and forget, even if you know they will commit the crime again. However, that does not mean wrong-doers should go without punishment.

If a child misbehaves, then he should be held accountable for his misdeeds. If a man commits a crime, he should also be held accountable. However, the punishment should fit the crime. A child who steals fruit to eat shouldn’t receive the same punishment as a man who murders or rapes. Lesser crimes should receive lesser punishments if only to teach lessons. Execution shouldn’t be given out lightly. Only those who seek malice against those he calls neighbor and those who bring only death should receive death as a punishment. However, those who have murdered for self-defense or out of emotion should not be held to the same accord. Once a person has been held accountable for their crime, truly repents with their heart, and has made amends with those they have wronged, they should be forgiven and be treated as if they are a new person; the crime that was committed should be washed away as if it never happened.

The book goes into detail on how a person should behave within the Light. Describing how we should pray, eat, and treat others. Even the lowest of the low deserve the same rights as the highest of the high. A child of no home or family should be brought in and treated like a son or daughter without conditions. Children are the future, and if not looked after the future will not be so bright within the Light. The elderly should be listened to and respected. They have the wisdom of the cycles they lived through and one should take time to learn from them. Treat each elder as if they were your father or mother, for surely, they have earned your respect. Those who live without a home should be given shelter and fed. But give an elf the fruit of your labor and he or she may eat once. However, share with them the knowledge of how to harvest the land, and they will never go hungry.

Never act in ignorance or arrogance. Pride in one’s work is good, but pride in one’s self leads to arrogance. Arrogance leads to ignorance, and ignorance leads to failure and mistakes. Always be prideful about your harvest, but do not feed your pride to your ego for that will surely lead to your downfall.

Do not confuse joy with pleasure. Joy comes from within and pleasure comes from outside. Joy comes from the heart. You receive it when you act with compassion, love, gratitude, and have a noble purpose. Pleasure comes consuming that which comes from the outside of the body, but it lacks satisfaction and diminishes with every quench. Joy is the simmering coal that lasts a lifetime, and pleasure is a burning, raging fire that burns out rather quickly. With each raging fire, it takes more timber to gain the same flame, yet the simmering coals burn with the same heat for a lifetime. Joy takes little and gives much, while pleasure takes all and gives very little.

Find delight in moderation. Find happiness in work. The destination does not deliver wisdom, but wisdom is earned while on the journey. Mistakes and failures are not final, nor should they be avoided at the cost of success and victory. There is no greater teacher than the failures and mistakes of our efforts. They surely teach us lessons that are far more valuable than any success could ever bring. However, it is better to learn from the mistakes of others than to endure our own.

The Light shines within all of us, but some need a little more timber to feel it. Do not forsake those whose Light is dim, for they are the ones who strive where the Light is hardest to find and will help guide you through the darkness. Share with them your kindness, and surely you will find a friend in them when you are lost in the dark. Your Light will brighten theirs.

Do not let temptation be an acquaintance. For the lure of temptation is far greater when you let it whisper in your ear than when you are too far to hear its desirable words. Even the purest of hearts will fall to temptation when they let it speak to their own desires and vices. We are but mortals, and none of us live without desire and vice. In order to not give in to such things, we merely forsake them within our lives. Free your house of temptation, and you shall never fall to your vices. If you can’t see or hear the lure of pleasure and sin, you will not be tempted to give in.

Sometimes the darkness in our lives makes it hard to see the Light. When we lose the love of another, grieve for the death of a lover, or find sadness and pain where love and friendship once blossomed, we will find ourselves lost in the dark. It is okay to lose yourself in darkness, but do not let yourself live within the dark forever. Remember, the Light shines from within and from outside oneself. If you find yourself surrounded by the dark, just look within. Let your own Light shine and the Light of others will find you. Let go of that which keeps you in the dark. Let go of fear, grief, sadness, guilt, shame, and anger. They need to be felt within the moment but do not hold on to them, for they will swallow your Light and leave you in the dark. Instead, feel and let go of them. Embrace the pain and accept it. Only then can you understand that the pain is only temporary and it is a pain of love. Once you learn to embrace pain, it can no longer hurt you. Your pain will become your strength. Your shield. But do not let it become your anchor, for it will not let you go until you learn to let it go. When you break the chain that holds you down, you will find peace and relief once the burden of your pain is lifted off your shoulders.

The teachings all feel important and applicable. Some I wish I knew a long time ago. Some still seem a mystery to me today. I am glad I read it now more than ever. We all study together and go over what we learned from the book. Share it with each other and test each other.

—

The four of us have grown quite close. We’ve developed into friends from acquaintances. They are not the only ones either. Chalia has become one of my closest confidants.

I feel like I can tell her my secrets, and as I meet her back at our room, I decide to do just that.

“Hey, Chalia?” I say, biting my lip as I fidget with my robes.

“What’s up?” she asks, as her eyes meet mine.

“Remember the first day we met and I told you I wasn’t exactly a low-born and you asked what my family name was?” I ask, avoiding her eyes.

“Yeah, you said you weren’t supposed to talk about it,” she says as she takes a step closer.

“Well, I feel like I can trust you. You’ve been the closest thing I’ve ever had to a sister,” I say, meeting her eyes with a genuine smile from the bottom of my heart.

She returns it in kind. “I feel the same way.”

I take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well, my last name is Syllana.”

My breath catches in my throat as her eyes go wide. “I’ve heard of your name. You’re one of the noble houses that was ostracized and stripped of name and title for being loyal to King Volodar after he abdicated. Many like your family wanted to raise Prince Faelar to the throne, but the council, along with the Golden High Elf Trading Company and many other noble houses were fiercely against it.”

“You’re not telling me anything I don’t know,” I say, letting out the air I’d been holding in.

“I’m sorry about what happened to your family. It is a shame about all the houses being ostracized for being loyal to the royal family. Most of the common people are still loyal to the Morric family. He brought us stability and spread the wealth. Ever since the Council and the Golden High Elf Trading Company took power, many have fallen into poverty, and the gap between the rich and the poor seems to have grown too far.”

“Trust me, I understand. My family lost everything. We lived in Tent City before the rest of my family were sold as slaves.”

Her eyes grow soft. “For the Light… That’s awful. Why?”

“It’s complicated. I’ve been trying to save up coin to free them, but I lost everything when I accidentally used magic and was arrested for it. They took all I had,” I say, leaving out the part about killing Phraan with magic. No one needs to know those things.

 She puts a hand on my shoulder. “I will give you what little help I can offer, but I don’t have much. I lost all I had after my father passed away.”

“You don’t need to give me anything. It is my responsibility to help them,” I say.

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Bothvar Beorcolsson

The snow covers the docks. The water of the harbor is still frozen. Same with the bay and the river attached. The cold is still bitter, but the sun rises. This winter was nowhere near as long as The Longest Night, which the people have started calling that fateful winter that felt like it would never end. It’s been more than a few cycles since then. Since that winter in which I lost my beloved Arngunn, our child, Asfrid, and my brother’s son and Thorkel the summer prior. I try to imagine what Arni and Hrut’s last send-off would have been like. I wasn’t here to see it. Neither was I there for Asfrid or her child. Or even my brothers for that matter, not that we had his body to send on his last voyage.

I wasn’t here when they needed me. Why couldn’t I have stayed? If I could only have one last moment with my wife and child, I’d give the rest of my days and cherish that moment. What would I say to them?

I look out and imagine their boats coming back to shore, but they’re not sleeping on their final rest, instead, they’re standing up, as alive as I am sitting here now. The smiles on their faces are what I am trying to remember, but all I remember were the last moments that they gave me, and instead of cherishing them, I wasted them. My brother might be lost forever. I don’t know if he died holding his weapon, and I can’t recover the body to send him on his last voyage. He’s gone, and it still feels like it’s all my fault. And instead of cherishing those last moments with my wife and child, I was consumed with revenge. All I wanted to do was kill that elf. He haunted my memories.

Now I have all but forgotten him. Instead, I just remember the tears my wife cried on the day that I left. I just wish I could have those moments back. Instead of seeking death, I’d cherish life. But not even the father above can reverse the tree of time.

But if Arni and Hrut stepped on this dock one last time, I’d spill my heart out to them. I have so much to tell them. If they were standing in front of me for one last moment, I’d tell them this.

I clear my throat. “If you were here, Arni, my love, I wouldn’t feel so alone. You’re the only thing I was holding onto. You and our child. I saw all the days ahead with us. Hrut would have many brothers and a sister or two. I’d make sure of it. Hrut, you and your siblings would spend your time learning all the things you need to in order to survive this world. You’d spend time with Aldam, the grumpy old dwarven blacksmith. He’s short and bald, but he’s got a mouth as loud as a bear. You won’t like him very much at first, but he’ll grow on you. In the end, you’ll think of him as a close friend. He knows everything there is to know about making weapons. Of course, I’m sure Arni would spend a lot of time chasing you and your siblings around, getting you out of trouble. Wouldn’t you, love?”

I laugh at the thought of that sweet, kind, woman acting like my mother. “Like Thorkel and I, you’d spend a lot of time doing slave work and your arse would be full of welts. But like me, you’d cherish that time. I’d teach you how to fight and swing an ax. You’d make your own sword, just like I had.”

I take in a deep breath and smell the air. The icy wind brings in that salty scent. I try hard, but no matter how deep I breathe in, I still can’t smell their scent. Arni would always smell like flowers because she spent so much time picking them. Hrut would smell like barf and shit. Most of the time, he cried all night. But there was that time he opened up his eyes and smiled at me. I’ve never felt so alive during those tiny moments. I saw myself in his eyes. “Arni, I wish I could smell the flowers you always had in your hair one last time. I wish we were back in the woods and trying to stop our sibling and friends.”

I let out the breath I’ve been holding as I see another boat leave the harbor. Tonna’s now in one of the great halls. Feasting with my wife and her sister. I can imagine Tonna and Asfrid might instead be fighting. I don’t think they ever liked each other. Of course, Arni would surely try to break them up. The thought brings both the tears out of my eyes and puts a smile on my face. “Arni, please, just give me one more moment. Please let me hold Hrut one last time.”

“Bothvi? What are you doing?” I turn around to see little Thora walking out with Svala. It hurts every time she calls me Bothvi, just like Arni used to do, but I can’t bring myself to tell her not to. I suppose she, more than anyone, has every right to. Because of me, she has to grow up without her parents. Instead of having Thorkel and Asfrid here to teach her how to be a Kraken, she is stuck with me. 

“He’s talking with his wife and your parents. And it would seem your cousin too,” Svala says. Her golden blonde hair twirls with the wind.

“Why did you two come out here? It’s cold, and the dock is slick.” I ask.

“I wanted to see you, uncle Bothvi,” Thora says with that innocent little smile. In a way, it kind of reminds me of the smile Thorkel would always give.

“She wanted to see you, but I wanted to speak to them too,” Svala says as she sits down next to me. Thora sits down on the other side.

“How do you speak to them?” Thora asks.

I breathe in and fill my lungs with the bitter cold air long enough to hurt before letting it go. I look into the little girl’s eyes and I see both my brother and Asfrid. But someone else too. Someone new. “Well, you just close your eyes and imagine them sailing a boat back to the docks. They’ll get off and hug you. Then you’ll get your chance to say everything you need to say.”

“What do they look like?” Thora asks as she brushes her light blonde hair from her face. Her tiny little nose looks like a miniature one of Arni’s. The same one Asfrid shares. Only hers was always sticking up at everyone else.

“Well, your mother had the same nose as you. Your father shares my face. He’d have a beard like mine, too. He would be big and strong. Your mother shared my wife’s golden blonde hair. They also had the same eyes as you. Deep blue eyes. As blue as the ocean. I’m sure your brother would share the same blue eyes and golden hair. He wasn’t much younger than you are now.”

“What about Hrut?” Svala asks.

“Hrut had blue eyes too. Same with his hair. It was dirty, like mine instead of the clean golden hair his mother had. He also got a nose like mine.”

“I remember now. He did have an enormous nose,” Svala says. My eyes fall flat.

“Well, papa and mama, and little brother, if you are listening, I hope your voyage went smoothly. I’m stuck here with uncle Bothvi. He’s okay. He’s like a big bear. He even has a cloak made out of bear fur.” She pauses and looks up at me. “What else should I say?”

“Well, you’re doing pretty good so far. You definitely pinned down the old bear. Although you missed the part about his grumbling,” Svala says.

“Yeah, papa, Bothvi grumbles a lot. Just like a bear.”

Svala laughs hard. “He also loves to snore. Loudly. I bet ya we all know who can speak the truth on that, right Arni?”

Svala’s smile widens. “Yep, Arni agrees with me. She says you snore louder than a boar.”

Thora laughs so hard that she hiccups. “What else did Arni say?”

“Well,” Svala sits up and scratches her head. Her face softens as she looks up at me. “She says she misses us. She wishes she had one last moment with us, especially the bear.”

I look at Svala and search for… Does she really see them? She smiles at me. “She also says Hrut is growing up fast. He’s already a man. He literally just sprung into a man a few sunrises ago. It was so sudden.”

I laugh so hard that I nearly choke. Did I really think she could speak to the dead? I look back at Svala and she beams with joy. And so does Thora. The two of them are wearing smiles that make the sun seem dull when it is out. “Let’s go inside and eat. Winter is finally over. I can feel it.”

“Yay!” Thora says as she jumps to her feet and sprints down the dock. Svala runs behind her.

“Hey! No running on the dock,” I yell at them and they ignore me.”

—

“You’re too short,” I say, with my hand on her head as she tries to punch and kick me.

“I am not too short. You’re just too tall!” She snaps back, then she tries to grab my arm and pull me down, but she is like a baby pulling on a tree. I only laugh. “Don’t laugh! I’m going to be the greatest warrior to ever come out of the Kraken clan!”

That makes me laugh even harder. “How will you do that? You can’t even land a punch on me?”

“You just wait, uncle. I’ll punch you good. So good, you’ll… You’ll… You’ll.” She pauses to think about it. “You just won’t like it.

I chuckle. “Is that so? Well, let’s see it.”

She tries to move past my arm, but she’s too small. Her little tiny arms can’t reach me. “This isn’t fair!”

“Rule one, Thora, life isn’t fair, and neither is battle. You can’t expect fairness from either. If you’re planning on hitting an enemy as big as me, you’re going to need to use your head to do so. The mind is a sharper weapon than the sword. Think!”

She takes a second before she grins. She backs up a bit, crouches down, and springs forward. Once again, my hand’s in her path. Suddenly she flings up dirt in my eyes and spins off my hand. Her little fist pelts my side with a punch.

“Ha! Take that, uncle,” she says as I wipe the dirt from my eyes.

“Clever girl. I’ll give ya that one. You took my advice and applied it. Good, but next time you won’t get away with the same trick. I’ll be ready for it. What will you do then?”

“I’ll figure something out. You just wait,” she says with a smirk as she wipes the dirt-stained sweat off her brow.

“I guess I’ll have to, I suspect supper is ready. Come, little one, let us eat. Your grandmother will want to have lessons for you after,” I say as I ruffle the girl’s hair into a bigger mess than it already is.” Then you should spend time chopping wood.”

“Chopping wood? That’s slave work!” she says, sticking out her bottom lip.

“Nonsense, chopping wood helps you develop your swing and builds your strength as long as you do it correctly. Now come, mother and aunt will have lessons for you.”

“Ahh, I don’t want to. I want to learn how to use a sword and an ax!” she says, brushing her messy golden blonde hair out of her face. The same hair Arngunn and Asfrid shared. I see so much of both of them in her and it hurts, but at the same time, it’s bitter-sweet. There’s a lot of Thorkel in her as well. Her determination is the same as his. She’s all I have left of all of them. She’s so much like Thorkel, I have a hard time not thinking of her as a sister instead of my niece. Because of it, I let her get away with far too much.

We head into the hall where the family is, squabbling amongst themselves. As soon as mother sees me, she rushes over to little Thora and sighs. Behind her, two familiar elven women walk behind wearing the Elvish magic restricting slave collars. I recognize them and remember them from long ago. One is Valindra and the other is Renna. They serve my mother and my Aunt Sigvor now. I can’t help but feel bitter. Every time I look at the elves, I see that red-haired bastard who killed my brother.

Even so, I know not all elves are the same, just like not all humans are the same, or even Northerners for that matter. Oddly, they seem rather attached to my mother. She has that effect on people. She can be rather scary at times, but she has a way of making people loyal to her. Same with my Aunt Sigvor. Silent most of the time, but she has an enormous heart. My mother is quite the opposite when it comes to being quiet, but they both share the same golden heart. Even their slaves hold them in such high regard. I believe it is because they don’t treat them like most do. They treat them fairly as they treat everyone. Although I’d argue my mother treats her children more harshly than most. My backside will agree. But she does it with love. “By the gods, girl, have you been wrestling with pigs? You’re as dirty as one and you smell like one. You need to bathe.”

“Uncle Bothvi has been teaching me to fight. I punched him good,” she says.

“Yeah, it tickled,” I say, rather too flatly. She punches me in the thigh. I look down at her with a grin. “Are you trying to make me laugh, girl?”

She flails at me with punches, I just brush her aside like a gnat, heading past the hearths and into the dining hall where a table of food lies, past the rows of tables against the wall, stretching all the way to the right of my father’s keep. A keep that has been built upon by our ancestors and has been made strong by stone and metal. It is far larger than anything I’ve ever seen in the Northern clans. A keep on top of the highest hill before the mountains. The hill itself is surrounded by walls and towers. And several large houses of my father’s closest friends line the lower level of the hill. My stomach roars. I give it a good pat. “I’m hungry.”

Thormar, Bodvar, and Svala are already eating with father as slaves scramble to get more drink and food. I grab my own plate, fill it, and take my seat by Thormar with a chair I had to bring down to hold my weight. I even had to replace all the tables and my bed in my room with reinforced metal ones.

By the gods Thormar has changed since Thorkel’s Death. It’s hard not to see him as my aloof little brother who always asks lots of annoying questions and throws temper tantrums. But now, he seems so reserved and full of anger all the time. His eyes bear shadows that never were there before and he eats in silence.

Bodvar and Svala have too changed, neither seem as carefree as they once were. Svala picks at her food while Bodvar eats as if it were just another task, no hint of that goofy smile he always wore.

My great uncle Alvi and Gudrod walk in, grabbing a plate before they take a seat. I must say, Gudrod is a lot older than when I last saw him. He’s a little older than Bodvar. Almost raiding age. He’s grown a bit taller, still not as tall as Thormar, but close. Still has a baby-fresh face with no hair at all.

“Hey, Bothvar!” He says with that same smile. Some things never change.

“Hey, Gudrod. Hey Uncle Alvi,” I say with a nod.

“We’re doing great! Alvi has been teaching me all about raiding. Soon, I’ll be old enough to raid myself. I’m only a few cycles shy and then I’ll be able to join your crew. I can’t wait!” His smile reaches ear to ear.

“I don’t really raid…”

“Will you finally come to your senses, my son, and raid this summer?” Father asks, butting in as he picks pieces out of his bread to eat.

“My place is here, teaching Thora, besides, it seems like Thormar stepped in to take my place,” I say.

The little girl breaks away from mother and runs around the table as the old woman chases after. “Get back here. You’re taking a bath whether you like it or not.”

“You’ll never get me!” she screams as she manages to get to the opposite side of the tables.

“Just take a bath already, Thora. You stink like pig shit,” Svala says in a mumble as she twirls her spoon around her food.

“Uncle, will you talk some sense into the boy?” father asks Alvi.

Uncle only shrugs. “Bothvar, I was once in your boots. After my wife and children died, I had no will to continue on. I was lost, and I didn’t know what to do about it. It is good that you have found a purpose in raising little Thora, but you also have to remember your people. Even though we survived The Longest Night, as you well know, many did not. Who knows when another winter will come just like that, or worse. If we do not raid, we will not eat. That is how we get our resources. Thora definitely needs you, but if you want her to gain the honor and glory of her father, you need to show her how it is done by leading by example.”

“You have to raid, Bothvar. You are the greatest warrior I know. If you don’t go, who will make sure everyone comes back safely?” Gudrod says.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” father says.

I let out a sigh, but don’t argue as Thora sprints around the table with mother chasing after her, bumping into Thormar. Thormar slams his fist on the table after he spills his drink everywhere.

I’m surprised he doesn’t have his maps with him. He’s been obsessed with those maps ever since Uncle Koll brought one back after summer raids as a boy. I look up at my father. “Father, why don’t you go west? That is what Thorkel wanted to do. Not to mention, from what I have heard, the elves have a good many islands and trade routes.”

Thormar looks up at me from his plate and blinks, then he turns to father.

“Fighting the elves is a losing battle. We have nothing to combat their magic. I also don’t want to fight the Pirates either. Some of them are allies and others use magic as well,” father says as he gives me dirty looks.

“Why don’t we use magic?” Thormar asks, seeming to come out of his stupor.

“I don’t know about you, but I certainly can’t hurl balls of fire,” father says.

“But what if we could get people who can?” Thormar asks. It’s hard to believe my little brother is a man now. He has Thorkel’s ambitions. They both wanted to raid west. Part of me wishes we had. Of course, Thormar has always wanted to explore the unknown. That’s one of the few things the two shared. Now, he’s old enough to raid and has been already.

“And how do you propose we do that?” Father asks as people enter the hall. Koll and Einar Alriksson, along with Throst Thorhallson join us at the table. My father’s closest friends.

“We could capture slaves who do magic. We could train them like you train a dog. Those collars the elves use prohibit their magic, so we could maybe find a way to use collars to control their magic,” Thormar says. My mother continues to chase Thora around the hall before the little girl gets caught by my father, who holds her into a headlock and further messes up her hair as she laughs while struggling to get free.

My mother takes Thora from my father and practically has to drag her away as she kicks and claws.

Father turns his attention to the visitors after they’ve been given food and drink. “Greetings, my friends. How is the kin?”

“Ask me after I’ve drunk enough ale,” Einar grumbles. “One son always has his nose in books. My oldest is an excellent warrior but should read a book or two. Sadly, my daughters show the most potential. At least if they don’t kill each other.”

“What about your sister’s son? May she feast in the halls of the gods,” my father asks.

“He’s a coward. The boy will never survive in a fight. He can’t stomach it. Passes out every time he even sees a drop of blood,” Einar says, disdain dripping from his words. He’s graying in his prominently black beard and long hair. 

His twin brother, Koll, slaps his arm. “Could be worse. I can’t get a moment of silence in my own home between my three wives and all the children I’ve lost count of. My children’s children are now getting old enough to argue. Veleif’s four daughters are enough to drive me crazy. Toss in Gili’s daughter and my three grandsons who are now old enough to raid along with Tyrkir’s baby boy who never stops crying, and my house has become a battlefield. Let alone all of their wives and my daughters who never stop fighting each other. When they’re not arguing with each other, they join forces to argue against me.”

Father laughs. “You’re the madman who married three wives. I can hardly handle one.”

“The thing is, they get along quite well with each other. They’re nearly inseparable. I couldn’t marry one without the other two since they were all the bestest of friends from childhood, but women just love to argue. And the worst thing is, they’re all smart and cunning. Women should never be allowed to be so smart. I feel as if I’m in a constant game of war with them. And I always seem to lose.” Koll sighs and takes a long drink from his mug and wipes his mouth with his sleeve.

After letting out a loud belch, he wipes his mouth and continues. “It’s bad enough that Ingithora and Svanhild get enough sex from each that they’ll hold out on me just to spite me when I anger them, which is all the time. I don’t even know what I do to anger them. And Amora is rarely ever in the mood. What is the point of having three wives if none of them want to have sex? Madness, I tell you. Thank the gods they don’t care if I fuck the slave girl,” Koll says before he downs the rest of the mug. My father wears a keen smirk as he sips his ale. Koll slams his mug down with another burp. “Of course, that is when Ingithora and Svanhild don’t hog her. Melissa, the slave, is a good woman. Tender and kind. She knows how to treat a man. She also apparently knows how to treat a woman…”

“Thank the gods my wife isn’t like that. She doesn’t play those games. I just wish she’d give me a son already. I’ve put six babies in her and they’ve all come out girls. How is that possible?” Throst asks as he runs a hand through his red hair and leans back in his chair.

Koll slaps him on the shoulder. “You can have one of mine.”

“Aye, maybe we can marry off my daughter to one of your grandsons. My youngest two are about the same age,” Throst says.

Koll shrugs. “If your daughter agrees to marry one of my grandsons, I’m all for it. I know the little bastards would love to have any one of your daughters.”

Throst only shrugs. “I know Alfeid has always had an eye on Gudrik and Asdis is always seen with Starolf. They’d be perfect for each other.”

Father just shrugs and takes a sip. “So, my friends, what are your thoughts about the summer raids? My son thinks we should sail west.”

The men all look at me.

“So, you’re finally going to raid once again, Bothvar?” Einar asks.

“No.”

“Why not?” Einar asks. “Most of the men in the village heard of some of the exploits of your self-exile all those cycles ago. We heard of your victory against the Bone Eaters from the Valkyrie clan. They talk of you as some type of god who can’t be touched on the battlefield. They say you slaughtered them like cattle. Never even getting a scratch while leaving a mountain of corpses. There are stories of how you killed a bear with your bare hands and fought hordes of yeti and those Shadow Stalkers in the mountains. They’ve seen that yeti horn and the antlers you have. Let alone the fact that you have saved us all from starvation. Surely, you’re not afraid to raid.”

“I didn’t kill any yeti. I was friends with the yeti. If it weren’t for them, I would’ve been killed by the Shadow Stalkers. Those fiends will kill anything they come across. And I didn’t kill the bear with my bare hands, I killed it with an ax and a bow. Besides, I made a promise to look after Thora and teach her how to be strong. Isn’t that our way?”

“Yes, it is, and that is why we raid. To provide for our young. This is our way. It always has been,” Koll says with a stern look. “Don’t you want to provide for Thora?”

“Didn’t you also make a promise to avenge Thorkel? How will you do that if you don’t raid?” Father asks.

“Besides, we all know too well what happens when we do not have enough to provide for our people when winter comes. The Longest Night may prove to be the first of many,” Throst says.

I grit my teeth as I ponder the old men’s words. What they say makes sense. If we were more successful in our raids, maybe my beloved Arni, my baby boy, Asfrid, and Thorkel’s son would still be alive. But still, what about Thora? Can I leave her alone? I’m supposed to guide her and train her to be like her father. The girl suddenly bursts into the room in trousers and a shirt far too big for her. Her hair soaking wet. My exasperated mother walks in behind her with Sigvor silently snickering.

“Perhaps,” is all I say.

“By the way, I’m the one who wanted to sail west,” Thormar speaks up.

“Is that so? What do you hope to find out west? Have you not heard of the monsters that swim in the deep seas out west? The Kraken will bring our ships down to the depths if the Charybdis doesn’t get us in its jaws. Not to mention the pesky Merrow.”

“Are the Merrow not merpeople? I’ve heard tales of the beauty of mermaids. Surely, they aren’t the same thing, are they?” Thormar asks. The little brother I remember from our childhood is slowly coming out from the walls he’s built. He used to be so curious about everything. Always asking questions. But now, if I hadn’t brought up going west, he would’ve left the topic buried in silence. What has happened to my little brother?

“They are different. Think of the Merrow as savage merpeople. They eat human flesh and will hunt anything that enters its waters,” Throst says.

“I haven’t seen a mermaid before. I wouldn’t hold weight to such nonsense unless I see it with my own eyes,” Einar says. Uncle Alvi snores as he sleeps, sitting up.

“We also have to look out for Jotnar ships. The giants have massive ships that could trample our own. They’ll take you alive and eat you like the Bone Eaters,” Throst says.

“I heard they sacrifice humans to their giant god they worship. A giant that is the size of a mountain and could squash a house with its foot,” Thormar says.

“Where do you hear these tales?” Einar asks.

“Your son, Eystein, told me. He said he read…”

“Do not listen to my son. The boy reads too many books. He knows not of the world because he hardly steps out of the house. How can you know of the world if you haven’t seen any of it?” Einar asks.

“But he knows lots of things. He told me that if I take the seawater, boil it, and trap the steam in something, we can drink the steam. He read that in a book,” Thormar says at Einar with a challenging gaze. “Trandil and I have even gone to the dwarf Aldam for his help in making a device we can take out on raids that will allow us to make seawater drinking water.”

Einar huffs. “Trandil and Eystein are fool boys who don’t know their heads from their asses.”

“But they’re your blood. How can you say that about them?” Thormar asks.

“They may be my blood, but they’re still foolish boys,” Einar says, slamming his fist on the table.

“Aye, but you have to admit, brother, the water thingy does have its merits,” Koll says, slapping Einar on the shoulder.

My father slams his mug on the table after emptying it and stands up. “I propose we go out for a hunt. Winter is over. I bet we can find a big fat boar or maybe some bear coming out of their sleep.”

“A hunt sounds fun indeed,” Throst says with a smile.

“Yes, I need something to kill before I head home. I know my wives surely have some scheme brewing,” Koll says.

“Yeah, a hunt sounds needed. Let’s kill us a bear. I need a good challenge,” Einar says.

“Are you coming, Bothvar?” my father asks. I nod as I finish the food on my plate.

“I want to come,” Bodvar says.

“Me too!” Svala utters.

Father looks at the two of them through his cool blue eyes, combing his beard with his fingers. “I suppose you’re both old enough to go out hunting. Just stay in the back, be quiet, and do as I tell you to.”

Father looks up at Thormar. “You’re coming too. But stay back with Bodvar and Svala.”

“Wait, a second. I will not have my two youngest out on these wild boar chases,” mother says.

“I want to come!” Thora shouts as she jumps on the table.

“No!” I snap rather quickly and a little too intensely. Thora jumps back and trips. I grab her shirt before she falls back on her arse. “You’re too young and too reckless.”

“Ahhh, but…”

“No buts,” I say.

Thora sticks out her bottom lip and pouts. She glares at me. That little face of hers melts my heart like a hot forge, but I won’t budge on this. “When you get Bodvar’s age, I’ll think about it.”

“Okay…” she says as she climbs off the table.

“Come, child. Let me read you a story about the goddess Idunn and the tale of how Flosi tricked her and tried to take her to the giant Thiazi,” Sigvor says.

“Did she escape? Is she alright?” Thora asks.

“You’re just going to have to come and find out,” Sigvor says.

I make sure they get Thora to chop wood when they’re done and try to ingrain the proper way of cutting wood to her, which she, of course, shrugs off. I rush up to grab my hunting supplies, but stop at the beam Thorkel and I found Thormar pounding nails into. The beam is covered from top to bottom with nails and hammer indents. I remember when Thorkel and I found Thormar hammering what feels like a long time ago. He told us father told him to do it whenever he lashes out with his anger. Thorkel thought it was amusing, but looking at this beam covered in nails and dents…

 I look down at Thormar as he finishes his food and then talks to an elven male slave, he took during his time raiding while I stayed back to raise Thora. I don’t remember the slave’s name. Thormar seems so reserved and lost. What happened to my little brother? He’s no longer that curious and kind boy I remember. Why were Thorkel and I so mean to him? Never including him in any of our adventures. Always teasing him and pushing him away. Even Bodvar and Svala have given him a hard time. Especially Bodvar. I’m beginning to fully understand the consequences of my actions. What seemed like such harmless teasing has really taken its toll on my little brother. Each word left a cut on him and those cuts have become scars and this beam shows all of the scars my brother has endured.

“Bothvar, are you coming?” Bodvar asks as he throws his hunting bow over his shoulder. I shake the thoughts from my head, nod, and grab my gear.

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Bothvar Beorcolsson

The smell feels familiar. A sour, musky smell of a man that hasn’t bathed in a while. I sniff myself for a second. It’s slightly different from my own. “Whoever you are, you visit death to trespass in my cave!”

“Bothvar? Is that you?” A familiar voice echoes out.

“You sound familiar. Name yourself,” I shout back.

“It is your old friend, Skardi,” the voice calls back.

“Skardi? Is it really you?” I ask.

He steps out from the side of the cavern wall. “By the gods, it is you. It’s been a long time, my friend.”

I walk up and pull him into a great big bear hug. He grunts and breathes out. “You’re crushing me.”

I let him down and take a good look at him as he does the same. His eyes don’t seem to recognize me, nor does he look happy to see me. He’s grown a beard and his eyes look weary. He’s even skinnier than before. Bone thin. His skin barely is stretched tight against his gaunt face.

“You don’t look like the Bothvar I know. You’re bigger. Your skin is darker. You have a beard, but I suppose that is to be expected after living in a cave for all winter and fall. Your eyes are a lot harder than Bothvar’s. They seem to be the same color, but there’s a strange glow to them. You stand differently than Bothvar, and you look like a wild man.” Skardi says with his eyes narrowed to fine points as he looks me up and down, rubbing the scruffy beard on his chin.

“Well, I can explain. But first tell me, why do you look so thin? You look like a walking skeleton with skin. Here, eat these. They’ll help.” I quickly grab him some mushrooms and a cup of the glow rock water. “Drink this.”

He doesn’t hesitate to drink and eat what I give him. “The mushrooms and the water. They turn your skin dark, but you don’t need to eat much of them to feel rejuvenated. They’re a blessing. They heal and make strong the senses. The water toughens the body. Makes you strong, but only to the extent of your own efforts in forging your body with hard work. However, I am afraid to say no matter how strong I get, I still can’t lift that bloody hammer. It is as if it is one with the ground. I will lift that damn thing. You mark my words, but it seems I’ll have to return home without it.”

“Bothvar…”

I stare at the hammer on its altar and feel disappointed. “It seems my entire stay here has been for nothing. Well, maybe not for nothing. I am far stronger. I have known true pain and sorrow. But I have also discovered something more. I do not know how to put this into words. But I have found meaning, I suppose. I will return home to my family and show them all that I have learned. I can’t wait to see my son and my wife. And Thorkel’s kids, I will take them as my own and help Asfrid raise them. That is to be.”

“Bothvar…”

“It seems I have become a new man, Skardi. A new man indeed.”

“Bothvar… I… I don’t know how to tell you this.”

Skardi’s eyes seem to have hollowed as he stares through me. “I… I have to tell you. I just… I’m sorry, Bothvar. I truly am.”

“Just say what you have to say, Skardi.” What has happened? Please don’t tell me something happened to someone I care about. I’ve lost too much; I can’t bear the thought of losing someone else.

“Stormfront has suffered greatly. Winter never ends. Night seems to last forever. We grew hungry. Food was scarce. We tried to fish, but it seems the fish are gone. We hunt to find nothing. The land is a baron wasteland of frozen death. Many have died. So many,” he says as tears rain down in his eyes.

“What are you saying?” I ask as I feel my chest tighten. “Tell me.”

He looks up into my eyes with the pain of a thousand cuts. “I’m so sorry, Bothvar. I did everything I could. We all did.”

“What? Tell me now, Skardi! Tell me!” I roar, nearly causing the poor skeleton of a man to stumble back.

“Please forgive me. I don’t know why I live when so many others have died. It is not fair. The gods are angry with us. They punish us,” Skardi says as he drops to his knees.

“Just say it!” I growl.

“Arni… your son… Asfrid and her baby boy. Ottkatla Gudleifdottir, Ragneid Ketildottir, Hedinfrid Jomardottir, and so many more. They’re all dead. Died from The Longest Night. Died of hunger. We had no food.”

“Arni? My son? What do you mean, they are dead? They can’t possibly be dead. They are mine! They are strong. Something such as hunger could not kill them. I won’t allow it,” I say as my blood heats up like a burning fire.

“I’m so sorry, Bothvar. I had to tell you. They all died because I couldn’t save them. I couldn’t save anyone. I am not worthy of being your friend. I have failed you,” he says as he weeps at my feet.

The anger seems to boil over as I rush up to the hammer and pull with all my might. I want to break everything! Destroy this place. They’re all dead because I wasn’t there for them. I failed them. I dig my feet in and use every last drop of rage in me to pull this damn hammer out. The ground cracks beneath my feet as I pull. The cave shakes and groans from my might. Chunks fall from the ceiling, but I do not give in.

“You must stop it or you’ll cause the whole cave to fall on us!” Skardi shouts.

I can’t stop. If I stop, it means I have lost everything for nothing. Why! Why won’t you budge! I must have the strength to kill those who have taken everything from me. I have to wield this hammer. All I’ve done here can’t have been for nothing.

I finally give up and drop to my knees, filled with anguish. How do I kill hunger?

I weep as tears fall down my face. It is all my fault. Amalasontha and the Valkyrie were right, and I was wrong. And it only cost me everything to learn it. Instead of trying to lift this damn hammer so I could kill the bastard elf who took my brother, I should’ve been home providing for my family. They’d still be alive if I was.

My heart breaks to dust within my chest. But I cannot give in to grief now. There will be time for sorrow. I must get back to my clan. My people need me. I must take care of them. They can’t pay for my mistakes. I cannot let Amalasontha’s lessons go unpracticed. This is what Arni would’ve wanted.

—

Before we leave, we take as many mushrooms as we can and fill a jog with the water.

I return home with Skardi to a place I no longer recognize. It feels like a town of ghosts as the people barely clinging to life. They need staves to keep themselves upright. I grew strong at the cost of my people’s strength, and the people I loved paid with their lives for my strength.

I enter the keep of my father to find him in his seat, but he looks as if he’s a man already dead, just clinging to life with his final breaths. His face is that of a skull, covered in skin, with a beard. His eyes meet mine, and he doesn’t even recognize me.

I hand the bag of mushrooms to Skardi. “Hand these out to everyone you find, along with the water. Start with my family first and then the rest as you see fit. I will head back for more.”

I grab the biggest sacks, tying them to my belt before grabbing two of the largest empty barrels I can find, lifting them over my shoulders. I then run back up the mountain to the cave. The time I take to get there seems to get shorter each time. Even the snow doesn’t hinder me any longer.

Once I get to my cave, I fill the barrels, seal them, and set them outside. With my ax and sword, I run from cave to cave, filling the sacks with mushrooms. One was once filled with those creatures before I killed them all. I skip that cave, fearing those fiends have tainted it. I finally fill up both sacks and head back to my cave. I look down at my sword and ax before I toss them aside in the cave. These weapons have cost me too much. Maybe one day I will pick them up once more, but not now. Not when I have lost everything, including the will to fight.

With the sacks tied to my belt, I hoist the barrels up over my shoulders and run back down the mountain to the town. I get there none too soon. Setting the barrels in the keep where Skardi waits with an empty sack. My family has all come out and they all look gaunt, but even my father looks better now. Skardi looks as if he is standing straighter. He looks less like a skeleton.

“Gather all the clan. We need to dish out these mushrooms and water,” I command. Skardi rushes off. I get Thormar to eat and drink.

My mother looks at me wearily as she walks up to me with Aunt Sigvor behind. Her eyes search me as she tries to find her son. “Bothvar? Is that really you, my son?”

She reaches up to me, and I take her hand in mine, holding it to my cheek. She is so cold. Tears well up in her eyes as she collapses in my arms. “It is you. You’ve come back. I knew you would. My dear, Bothvar. Everyone thought you were dead, but I knew you were still alive.”

She cries as she clings to my chest. I just hold her in my arms as she weeps. She finally pulls herself together to look into my eyes. A smile grows upon her face. A weak smile. “You’ve grown so much. I no longer see the little boy I gave birth to. What happened to you?”

“I have been forged by the mountains, but it seems I have taken the wrong path. My people suffer while I grow strong. Skardi told me my wife and child have died along with Asfrid and her son. Is this true?”

My mother’s face shows the pain I was so afraid of. Her cheeks have sunken in and she looks so frail and feeble. They all look weakened by hunger and the cold. My mother weeps once more. “I’m so… so very sorry, my son. I tried to save them. I tried everything. But Thorkel’s son died in the womb. It was already hard for Asfrid after Thorkel died, but when she lost her son, she lost the will to live. I tried everything I could, but Asfrid no longer had the strength to carry on. She wouldn’t eat. Not that we had food to spare, but I tried my hardest to get her to eat what little I could give. She was the second to die.”

My mother’s eyes drift off into the distance, lost in the dark and sad past. She finally takes a deep breath and lets it out before her eyes, covered in shadows with bags hanging underneath, meet mine. “Arngunn was devastated at losing her sister. She also refused to eat. Giving her portions to your son and Thora. I tried to feed her. I tried to force her to eat, but she was struck with grief. Then a rumor spread that you were dead. People thought you wouldn’t survive the winter in the mountains. If that wasn’t bad enough, a sickness spread through the town. Many died. Many, including your son. Sigvor, Ingithora, and I tried everything. We used all the herbs we could to heal the sick. To heal your son, but nothing worked. It broke my heart more than anything when he stopped breathing. I tried to give him my own breath, but he couldn’t take it. After that, Arni too gave up on life. She wilted away like a flower in fall until she too died. My child, I am so sorry. I couldn’t save them. I couldn’t save anyone.”

I just pull her into my arms and hold her. I don’t think I have a heart left to feel anymore. “The fault is not yours. It is mine. I should’ve never left. My family needed me, and I was not here when it mattered. They died because I chose the path of revenge. I am to blame for this. I alone.”

“No… my son. You are not to blame. I am,” my father says as he stands from his chair and hobbles over to me. He puts a thin hand that’s bone wrapped in skin on my shoulder. “It is I who casted you out. I was so angry. When I heard of Thorkel’s death, I was in pain. I was not thinking clearly. I said words to you I wish I could’ve had back. When the rumor spread about your death, my heart nearly grew still. I couldn’t forgive myself…

His gaze drops to the floor as tears fall from his eyes. “I knew it was my faut. Because I couldn’t handle the loss of one son, I casted another out and lost two. That led me to fall into grief so consuming that I did nothing when my people needed me most. I all but abandoned them in my grief. I sat here trapped in the past, thinking about what I could’ve done differently if only I had gone with you both on that raid. I would’ve been the one to sacrifice myself, not Thorkel. Then you’d both still be here. It is my fault.”

My father sobs, and I pull him into a hug. “It is not your fault, father. You did what you thought was right to send us out on the raid. War might still come. And I cannot blame a father for grieving for a son because I now know what it feels like to lose a child. It hurts more than anything I’ve ever felt, and I believed I knew the worst of pain.”

He wraps his arms around me and holds me as tight as his weak arms can hold. “I am proud of you, son. You are a better man than I. You who are justified to be mad. To be angry. Instead, you stood strong and did what was right for the people. You saved us all. Your heart does not deserve the pain it bears.”

“I no longer have one, father. It grew cold and still within my chest.” I say and turn away as people trickle in. The sight made my stomach turn. It was as if the dead could walk. I swallow and grab the sack of mushrooms. I turn to my mother and my aunt. “Get cups and bowls. Everyone must drink this water and eat these mushrooms.”

“Bothvar?” I look over to see Svala walking out. She can barely stand up straight. She’s holding a frail, thin little girl. “Is that really you?”

“Svala, come, you and Thora must eat these mushrooms and drink this water,” I say as I rush up to her.

“No, I don’t have time. You must help. Bodvar… He’s dying. There’s something wrong. Please help us,” she says, pleading as tears fall from her eyes. I follow her into Bodvar’s room where he lies on his bed, as thin as a twig. His skin clings to his bones with hardly any muscle or fat at all. He’s foaming at the mouth.

“What has happened?” I ask.

“I don’t know… He’s been eating that… That poison. That glimmer the elves call it. Someone had it from raiding the elven ships, and Bodvar started taking it after your son died. He blames himself. He just started foaming at the mouth. I think he took too much. I don’t know what to do. You have to help him, please. I can’t lose him too,” she says, freaking out.

“Calm down, go get Aunt Sigvor and mother, and bring the water and mushrooms,” I tell her as I kneel down and turn him on his side so the foam drips down and he doesn’t choke on it or his tongue. I check for a heartbeat. It’s barely there. My mother and Aunt Sigvor stagger in with Svala holding a cup of water with those glowing mushrooms. My father is behind her with Thormar and Thora.

My aunt kneels down. “I’ve seen this before. I’ll be right back…”

She stumbles out and several minutes later comes in with an incense. She ignites it and has me get Bodvar sitting up. We try to get him to breathe it in as she holds it over his nose. Slowly, after a while, Bodvar becomes conscious. He opens his eyes halfway…

“Bothvar…” His head sways back and forth. “What’s going on…”

“What were you thinking, taking this glimmer?” Mother snaps at him. “You almost died. We nearly lost you.”

Tears start falling down Bodvar’s face. “I just wanted to feel better. I just wanted the pain to stop. I tried so hard to save them. I couldn’t save your son. I’m so sorry. Please… Please forgive me, brother. Your son is dead and it should’ve been me instead. I tried everything…”

I pull my brother into my arms and embrace him. “It is not your fault, Bodvar. It is mine. I shouldn’t have been away for so long.”

He breaks down and sobs in my arms and my heart breaks with him. This is all my fault. I lost the two people who made life worth living, and now my family is broken.

When I finally break from my brother, I get him to eat more mushrooms and drink more water before he gets some rest.

I make sure every last one of my people eats the mushrooms and drinks the water. Especially my family and friends. I make sure to get rid of all traces of that glimmer poison. I burn it all. Thankfully, the Mushrooms seem to have a reverse effect and help Bodvar recover rather fast.

I make several more trips up and down the mountain to get more before every last man, woman, and child is fed

—

I stumble out to the docks with a knife in my hand.

I’ve lost everything. I can no longer bear the pain anymore. All I want is to see my wife and child. This world… This life has nothing left for me anymore. The clouds have taken over the sky and snuffed out the sun. I find that pendant hanging around my neck. The one I never gave Arni. I rip it off and throw it as far as I can into the icy waters, beyond the frozen shore. Snow assaults our city, coming down with a wrath. I hold the knife to my chest, the tip pointing towards my stone-cold shattered heart. Arngunn, please forgive me.

“What are you doing?” I turn to find my mother walking out on the dock to me. “My poor child, what in the name of the gods are you doing!”

“I can no longer bear the pain anymore mother. My wife and child are gone, and it’s all my fault. I can’t live this life without them. I can’t do it,” I say. Tears of sorrow burden my eyes.

“You have to. If you die like this, you will never see them again. You will die without honor and will be cursed to wander the icy tundra of Niflheim; your suffering will be eternal. This I will not allow,” she says as she takes a step closer. “I’ve already lost four of my children, your brother, his wife, and our dear Arngunn, along with your son. I will not lose you too.”

“I don’t know how to live with this pain, mother. It hurts so much.” I grit my teeth as I look down at the knife pointing at my broken heart.

“You have to learn to live with it, my son. If you ever want to see your brother, wife, and the children again, you will learn to live with it. You must live a life of honor and duty so you can feast with them again in Valholl when you finally take the last voyage. Please,” she says, slowly stepping towards me. Tears run down like a river from her eyes. She wraps her shaking hand around mine, prying my fingers off of the blade until it drops, crashing through the wood to the sea below.

I turn away from her and face the endless sea as I drop to my knees while the winter storm rages on, reflecting my pain. I endure the blizzard’s wrath and I allow myself to weep. My mother kneels down and wraps me in her embrace. I weep for my baby boy and my beloved wife. I cry for Longhorn, White-hair, and Short-Snubs. Shedding tears for Tonna and her fallen sisters. Rain falls from my eyes for my brother, his wife, and son. I cry for the people who died while I grew strong.

Then I let out a roar back at the storm as if we’re at war. But right then and there, the storm breaks. The snow stops, the clouds break, and a ray of light showers down behind me. Both my mother and I gasp in amazement before we turn to look back as the ray of sunlight lays down on a single spot, and my eyes widen in astonishment. The light shines down upon a little girl, a little more than a cycle old walking out to me. No. Not just any girl. I see it now. She is the Daughter of the Sea. My hope has been renewed, and I make this promise that I will never abandon my people again and I will live a life with honor. I will serve my duty to those who still live. I will see Thorkel’s blood live on in this girl. With the breaths I have left, I will guide Thora, the Daughter of the Sea to honor and glory. I will earn my place next to my brother and I will see my beloved wife and our child once again in the next life. That is my vow.

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