Apex

A fantasy story, about a man and his spirit animal.

I stand in a clearing of trees placed tightly together and there is an opening in front of me, seemingly harmless I decide I will follow it. I saunter the opening, and pause in indecisiveness. Looming ahead of me, as far as my eyes can see, snakes  a winding path. Taking a deep breath to prepare myself, I walk through the opening and continue down the path. The path is etched by animals, made uneven due to the multiple different animal tracks. I can say without a doubt, I am the first human to set foot here in a long time, if not ever. I can see about 40 yards ahead of myself in the crepuscular light, and at the very edge of my vision I can see the path ascending. Dotting the edges of the path are thin and winding trails that appear every half dozen trees or so, leading off into the darkness.

I stalk down the path, admiring the sights of towering sequoias, soaring above me to the heavens. The trees edging the walkway, much in the same way the pillars of Odin’s great hall line the way to his throne. The giants marched on for eternity, silent guardians guiding me where I need to go, each of them large enough to fit a 2-story duplex comfortably. I continue along the path, monumental curators corralling me ever deeper into the forest.

As I trek deeper into this natural, god-worthy hallway, my heart rate rises with excitement as the thrill of adventure begins to set in. I spread my arms, letting the caress of the cool, chilled air calm me. Branching out with an arm, I brush my fingertips across the bark of one of the ancient trail-markers. As my smooth fleshy skin touches the rough bark skin of a nearby protector, I shiver as I feel the timeworn energy of the forest. I revel in the depth of this energy, I have never felt any this potent, powerful, and persistent before.I realized as the energy of the forest frolicked with my own energy, that the world around me was wonderfully sovereign. It beheld many secrets; some of them dark, some of them quite the opposite.

“Not now,” I mutter to myself. “This is not a good time to be getting distracted and straying away from the most important meeting of my life.”

Miles down the path and hours into my journey I began to notice signs of life. Past the safety wrought by my lovely, illustrious lane, there were creatures watching my every move. I can only see their eyes, evaluating my presence to see if I am a threat to them or their young. I fear not the creatures in the shadows, for I know they will not harm me. Of course, that is as long as I do not harm them or threaten their young.

I lost track of the hours exactly 4,364 steps before I lost track of the miles I had walked. Distance, nor time for that matter, is of any concern to me here. I know this because the dim light has not faded to nightfall, or brightened to dawn, but remained consistent. It seems the eventide is timeless, almost as if the sun was setting and got stuck just below the horizon.  Distracted and lost in silent conversation with myself, I falter, flounder and fall as my walk unexpectedly becomes a terribly steep climb.

Reaching the apex of my ascent, I barely manage to avoid walking directly into a legion of sequoias. Between two of them lies an awe-inspiring skein-root barricade blocking the only possible way through the vanguard. The roots are gnarled so tightly together that I could not fit between them, even if I were to turn sideways. My destination lies past the skein-root door, and I have come entirely too far to turn back. I begin to pace back and forth, stroking my chin and pondering how I am going to move forward. I stop pacing and glare at the skein where there should be an opening. Pouting ever so slightly, I look down at the ground defeated, and what I saw changed the plan entirely. There at the foot of the barricade is a perfect circle of teeth. Three feet by three feet, made of teeth that appear to belong to some kind of giant canine, or maybe a small dinosaur.

I sit down in the center of the circle, crossing my legs, and place both hands on the ground in front of me, fingertips gently pushing into the soil ever so slightly. The ground beneath thrummed, impossibly powerful.

“There must be a ley-line nearby!” I shout, much louder than is probably necessary.

I center myself, and suddenly tree roots - Yes. REAL tree roots - begin to grow from my body and slowly extend downward into the earth. My roots (that was going to take some getting used to) extend further, squirming and digging their way through the dry topsoil.
“That’s new” I shudder. “Before I began to see things,” I begin to explain to no one in particular, more so just to hear myself talk so I do not overreact. “This would only happen in my minds eye. It must be a side effect of the forest’s energy” I rationalized it to myself, and calmed down immediately so as to regain focus on the task at hand.

As my consciousness becomes one with that of the sequoia, I direct my energy towards the roots of the tree. Tsunamis, torrents, and tides of my life-energy flow outward to the foundation of the immense sequoia I am bonded with. Finally, the skein-roots begin to disperse lackadaisically, and after a few minutes there is a decisively-sized hole, perfect for me to walk through. I withdraw my energy as well as a little extra from the earth, as my roots begin to regress, gone within seconds.

Newly revitalized and empowered by the titanic energy of Mother Earth’s ley line, I stand up. I shake my head to clear it, still slightly shaken about the roots that I now apparently have. After getting my head straight, I saunter towards the doorway I created and waltz through it, feeling extraordinarily confident in myself. There is a crackling sound as I pass through the “doorway”; I looked back just in time to see the skein-roots growing and tangling back together behind me.

Turning my attention forward again, I revel in the beauty of the clearing I found myself in. It was bright enough for me to see the entire 120 yards across, the colossal sequoias surrounding the clearing like it was a roman coliseum. Directly across the clearing from me stood the gaping entrance to what appeared to be the Taj Mahal of caves, the opening big enough to land a small aircraft in. Between the cave and myself, dead center of the clearing, was a rock. Not just any rock, an enormous lone rock that stood ten feet tall. Reverently I approach the lone sentinel of a rock and notice there are steps carved into the back of it, leading to the top, and facing the cave. Climbing the steps that take me roughly 8 feet off the ground, I notice that they are carved perfectly for the length of my legs. After the effortless climb I place myself upon the crown of the rock and center myself, this time without the roots.

Sitting upon the zenith of the rock I reach out towards the cyclopean cave with my mind, immediately an immense presence assaults my mind with a celestially intense barrage of power. Instinctively, my mental barriers sprang forth to weather the onslaught. The presence weighed upon my mind with what seemed like the weight of the sun, and I began to sweat from the effort of holding it off. It quickly became too much, and I withdrew into myself.

“I mean no harm to you,” I speak loudly towards the cave. “You are my companion, bound to my soul, and I to you. I am asking you to reach out to me, allow me to prove that I am bound to you.” Almost immediately, the divine force reaches out to me. This time it is not suffocating, but encompassing. I see a stirring, deep within the cave before me, and realise it is a den.

As the creature pads towards me, I glimpse what it is. Out of the cave pads the most massive, beautiful she-wolf to ever have existed. Standing five feet tall at the withers, weighing what I estimate to be almost pounds, she is roughly the same size as a horse. Sheen and shimmering, her fur is the purest, paradisaic pearlescent white. My eyes are drawn to hers, breathtaking eyes that sparkle even without the sun in the sky. They are a deep, charismatic azure. A color that, if made into a precious gem, would be fit only to adorn the wardrobe of the most beautiful queen. She is a best unlike any I have ever seen. I do not fear her, though, for she is bound to my soul. The wolf walking towards me was my spirit guide, the being who will guide me through this journey to cleanse the darkness in my soul.

I hold out my hand for her to sniff once she reaches me; after an eternity she identifies my scent. After deciding that I am not a threat to her, she swishes her 3-foot long tail back and forth gregariously. Being five feet tall at the shoulders, her giant head is high enough for me to pet her from the rock I am sitting on. I reach out with both of my hands to scratch her behind the ears. A few seconds after my hands made contact with her fur, something strange happened. An image entered my mind’s eye, and image that felt like a memory. The memory belonged to someone else, someone I had never encountered nor imagined nor heard of before.

***

Suddenly, I was seeing the scene through eyes of my spirit guide, I heard a female someone referring to her as ‘Ailani’, and immediately I understand that she is telling me her name.

***

“Hello Ailani,” I whisper. “I’m so happy to finally meet you, my spirit guide.”

Her tail wags again as she sweeps me with her slobber-drenched gargantuan tongue. I laugh as I scratch her behind the ears, admiring her eyes. She sends me another image, this one more a flash of emotion than a visible memory, of an undeniable feeling of urgency.

“Does that mean it’s time to go?” I ask her aloud, and she growls an affirmative. “Do you mind if I ride you?”

She responds with an image of me riding her, emotions of pure bliss coupled with the image, telling me that she would love nothing more. I stand up atop the apex of the rock, and she turns, baring her back to me. I sit down at the edge of the rock, with my legs hanging off and I prepare myself for the short, yard long fall that could possibly hurt me pretty terribly if I land wrong. I look at her back quizzically, wondering how I was going to ride, especially without a saddle. I had never ridden anything before. Back home, my family had had a carriage. Father never let me drive, I was too young. I was not going to ride bareback, that was definitely not recommended for males for the same reason I was so weary of the yard long fall to her back.  

“Eithinoa,” I sought. “How am I going to ride without a saddle?”

She turned around and gave me a goofy wolf-grin, a sight I had never seen before and could not help but laugh at. As she did that, she nudged my hand, sending another memory to my mind’s eye. This memory was less like an image, and more like a film.

***

I walked through the forest, wondering when we would make camp. My lover was getting tired, as was I. She began to falter and stumble.

“Eira, my lady” I heard myself speak, in a voice that was not my own. “The day grows thin, we need to set up hearth before the sun goes down.”

“Agni, my love,” spake the woman called Eira. “Let us rest here for the night. It’s a beautiful place, safe and full of trees.”

“How do you expect me to make camp here, the trees are too close together. I cannot even fit off the trail.” I (Agni) responded, concerned. I (Agni) began walking onward

“Darling,” Eira piped up. “You forget that I am a seer, and the first one at that.”

Eira stood up, as I (Agni) turned to see what she was going to do. She closed her eyes, and began to speak quietly under her breath. The trees around us began to shake, and I (Agni) drew my (his) sword in fear. The trees moved and became a perfect circle, creating a giant clearing around us. Eira took a deep breath and began chanting once more, and the trees tightened the circle until there was no room for anything larger than a squirrel to walk between the trees, except at each cardinal direction. I (Agni) replaced my (his) sword in it’s sheath. At the Easternmost side of the clearing, she created a gargantuan cave. At the Northern, Western, and Southernmost points of the clearing she closed the openings with the roots of the sequoias, making it impossible to get in or out without a seer. There was a quiet yipping sound over my shoulder, and something on my back squirmed.

“Eira,” I (Agni) spoke apprehensively, unsure if she was finished or not. “She has awoken, I believe she is hungry.” I (Agni) took a sack off of his shoulder, and set it on the ground. Out of it stumbled a newborn tiny, pure white wolf cub, with eyes bluer than the bluest sapphire. The baby Ailani jumped around playfully, pawing at the last few dots of light shining through the canopy of trees. She looked ecstatic to be out of the burlap sack and able to walk on her own feet, only a few weeks old.

Eira walked, so graceful she seemed to float, to the young pup and picked her up, cradling her like a human child. She rubbed the wolf’s belly as she walked into the cave, singing softly to herself.

I (Agni) walked around the edge of the clearing, inspecting my (Agni’s) lover’s handiwork. I (Agni) smiled, admiring the way she knotted the roots into a skein to prevent entrance. I (Agni) felt a light touch on my (his) shoulder as Eira touched it.

“There’s something else I need to do, my love.” She said softly. “Stand in the middle of the clearing for me.”

I (Agni) moved without question to the center of the clearing. Eira began speaking under her breath again, and suddenly the ground beneath my (Agni’s) feet began to churn and convulse. Panicked, I (Agni) took a step towards Eira, fearing the moving ground.

“No, no, no..” She trilled, her voice harmonic with the burbling of the ground beneath. “Stay there, my love. You will not regret it, I promise.”

I (Agni) complied, albeit begrudgingly. From the ruptured earth began to rise a stone, large and grey. Rising from the earth, it lifted me (Agni) up, elevating me (him) as it rose. Standing atop the stone, I (Agni) knelt in reverence for the power that my (his) lover could invoke.

“You can create anything you want? And destroy anything you want? You can rearrange the world however you so choose?” I (Agni) asked with a voice full of fear.

“Yes, my love.” Eira responded calmingly, smiling brightly. “With the power of the sight, one can do anything they so choose.”

The vision ended as Eira finished her sentence.

***

I was standing upon the same rock that Agni once stood on, however long ago that may have been. I felt honored to have shared in a memory like that, seeing how the only place where I had ever felt completely safe had been created. I looked at Ailani and opened my mouth, preparing to ask a question, and closed it again. Suddenly I wondered how old she actually was.

“Ailani,” I began quietly. “Was that vision...are you telling me the ‘power’ that I have is the same sight that Eira had?”

She looked at me, and nodded in affirmation, a very human gesture. I knew full well that she was no normal animal, but even so I could not help but chuckle at that, I had never seen an animal nod before. I smiled down at her and prepared myself to attempt to conjure something. Having no clue how to do it, I was completely on my own.

I stared at Ailani for a few moments more, memorizing her size and stature. Once I was satisfied I had her size ingrained in my mind well enough, I scooted back and pulled my legs up on the rock, and crossed them beneath me. I placed my hands on my knees, straightened my back completely and prepared to something I thought impossible, and create something from nothing. I envisioned the saddles I had seen in the past, the one’s father had always made me put on the horses of our guests.

I saw the saddle appearing on her back, ornate and decorated with the elder futhark runes for protection, safe travels, and peace. I saw the bridle in her mouth, the reins extending behind her head to hang at the base of her muscular neck. The saddle was a black leather, very comfortable, gilded and embroidered. The buckles on the saddle were made of sapphire, as were the buckles on the stirrups. The more I saw, the more I tired, it would seem conjuring with the sight takes an awful lot of energy. I opened my eyes and blinked incredulously.

Sitting on Ailani’s back, which had been bare not thirty seconds ago, was a beautiful dark black saddle. The saddle was ornate, gilded, and embroidered exactly how I had seen it. I laughed and shouted in joy. I did indeed have the sight! I could create whatever I wanted! I cheered loudly and Ailani added a joyous howl to the cacophony.

“Alright, I’m ready to go!” I said, and sat at the edge of the rock again, waiting for her to come beneath me so I could mount her. She remained where she was, just too far away for me to be able to get on. I could not walk down and hop on either, she was entirely too tall. “What’s wrong my dear?” I asked, slightly dismayed. She walked up to me and nuzzled my hand, and as she did she sent me another image.

***

It was dark, darker than any night I had ever experienced before. Snow fell from the canopy of trees, blanketing the ground deeper than my knees.

There was a gust of wind as the vision ended.

***

The vision had gotten it’s point across. Where we were going was going to be bitter cold, intense and icy unlike anything I had ever felt before. Retreating to my previous position, legs crossed, hands on my knees, back straight, I focused myself. I saw a pair of saddlebags appear hanging from Ailani’s back, connected to my ornate saddle. The leather of the saddlebags the same as that of the saddle, only without all of the metal adorning it. In the leather of the bags, I saw the Elder Futhark runes for protection, wealth, and perseverance that I had envisioned, perfectly engraved. Not knowing how long we would be on our journey for, I filled the saddlebags, one was entirely full of dry seasoned meat for me. One of them had four loaves of bread, for that was as many as I could fit in it. And the final two were full of raw meat for Ailani. Once I had the saddlebags I remembered the way Agni and Eira had been dressed. They were wearing armor, and had weapons draped from them.

“Is it safe out there…” I started, as Ailani looked at me with annoyance, anxious to be able to run. “I think I should get myself some armor, dear. The only thing is….I know nothing of armor. Do you have any memories that can help?”

She gave me that weird wolf-nod again, and walked up to me. I stuck my hand out and touched her ear as the memory began to flow.

***

I wiped an immeasurable amount of sweat from my brow with my heavy leather glove. It was uncomfortably hot in here, on top of that I had to wear an incredibly thick leather apron, as well as a pair of gloves that somehow managed to be thicker than the apron. I looked over at Brynjar as he plunged a sword, red from the heat of the forge, into a bucket of recently melted snow. I called his name as a burst of steam flowed out of the bucket, blanketing him so I could not see him.

“Caldah!” He yelled to me, in his accent. My name is Calder. “Mine húsfreyja set some bread an’ cheese on the steps for us. Fetch it, boy. And take yer damn gloves off!” He guffawed as he placed the now finished sword on the cooling rack.

I left my gloves on the hearth, and hung my apron on the bellows. I walked outside and the blast of cool winter air was refreshing after being in the hot forge since sunup. I trekked through the snow, getting odd looks from the other villagers. I suppose, walking around with black soot all over your face, wearing a plain white tunic that is stained with sweat does make you look crazy if it just so happens to be the dead of winter. I arrived at Brynjar’s house, and like he said, his húsfreyja (whatever that happened to be) had put the bread and cheese out for us for lunch. I was starting to get cold now, so I ran back to the forge.

“Brynjar!” I hollered. “I fetched the food for us!” I looked around quizzically as there was no response. I decided I better make sure I eat at least my half of the bread, in case he was kidnapped by a Loki, or any of his disciples. (“Each one called a ‘Loke’, and just as tricky as he is” whispered a voice in my ear, an unfamiliar voice.”) “Mmmm,” I exclaimed, “My stomach is definitely a far safer place for bread than out in the open, where it could be seized by-” I was interrupted by Brynjar laughing again, so hard this time that he shook his jowls.

“Loki won’t never take ou’ bread, youn’ one.” He chortled. “Best be’ he did send some bumblin’ idiot to request THREE suits of Kings’ Mail from us.” He hollered as he savaged his bread.

“Um…” I stuttered. “How long do we have to make the suits?”

“Mmm...we ha’….3….days….they are….due by sunup on….the day of Thor” He managed to choke out between impressively vast bites of bread, devouring the leftover 3 quarters of the loaf in a measley three bites. “Eat tha cheese, boy, you need the all the  energy you can get yer filthy hands on. I hope ta’ Odin ya don’t plan on sleepin’ ‘til the day of Freyja.”

“I have not a choice, do I, master?” I muttered defeatedly.

“Nope!” Another bellowing chortle as he took a gulp from his flagon of mead. “Now have a sip of mead, boy, need ta’ loosen ya up for the hell we have before us!”

“Yes Brynjar,” I said as I took a sip of mead. The second the mead touched my lips, I spit it out and coughed. “Disgusting!” I shouted.

“Calder! Don’ go wastin’ mah mead, boy!” Brynjar shouted.

###

We finished measuring the men who would be wearing the Kings’ Mail once we had it finished. As I prepared the forge, I went over everything I knew about mail armor in my head. Mail was made for defence against slashing blows like the kind you would receive from a sword, as well as penetrating strikes by having a sword thrust at your guts, or arrows falling on you from the sky. I never understood why all the warriors seemed to love war so much, I would be terrified of all those sharp things trying to kill me. I take peace in the fact that I can just work in the forge, making weapons and armor for the idiots that monger for war. The only thing Mail does not protect against, is blunt force; very few warriors use maces or morningstars these days. Swords are more efficient. Actually, I had never even seen a warrior carrying a mace in the seventeen winters I had been through. Seventeen winters, all of which we have been at war with someone or other.

The methodical sound of the hammer striking the anvil was relaxing, as I hammered swage after swage. Swages are the building blocks of chain armor, they are the circular pieces of steel that will become each individual link. The swages are the most important part of the armor, simply because they are the most looked at of the four traits, when determining the resistance of the armor. The factors that determine the resistance of the armor are linkage type,  material used, weave density, and ring thickness. The man who requested the armor must have been very wealthy. He requested that his armor be made with the links forge-welded closed, made of our best steel, woven to be dense enough that no blade can fit through no matter how thin, and he wanted the rings as thick as was practical.

I liked learning from Brynjar, I got to learn a lot about armor. I was almost done assembling the coif, which is the armor that goes on the head, but I was far from done with the set. In fact, as the sun set on the day of Tyr and I finished the coif, I realized I had only just started. I had the spaulders which cover the shoulders, the byrnie which is a waist-length shirt to armor the torso, bracers which guard the wrist, vambraces which are armor for my hands, and the chausse which is armor for the legs.. I also had to do the hauberk for one of the other suits, which like a byrnie, is a shirt made to armor the torso. However, unlike a byrnie, the hauberk falls to mid-calf. Luckily for me Brynjar was forging the Sabatons, which are plate armored boots. He was also making the haubergeon which is like a byrnie, but it falls only to mid-thigh., as well as finishing the other two sets of chain.

Brynjar’s húsfreyja walked into the forge, carrying three sets of ailette, which are the garments worn under the armor, to protect the skin from being rubbed raw. As I set to work on the haubergeon, the final piece of armor I had left to make, I let out an exhausted sigh. The end of this hell was so close I could taste it. Húsfreyja brought us a jug of water and left some bread at the door for us, without a word. She understood how much Brynjar hated to be interrupted while working on something, especially something as important as this. Hours later, I finally finished the haubergeon and stood up, legs sore from sitting all day. My fingers were slightly raw from moving the metal for three days straight, but they were becoming callused as I worked in the forge more and more. I headed outside to clear my head, and cool down.

The vision ended as I walked out the door.

***

After seeing the vision of Calder making the chain armor as well as watching Brynjar make the sabatons, I understood the process well enough to create my own armor in the same way I created the saddle and saddlebags. Closing my eyes, I focused on creating myself a set of armor to fit me perfectly. I stripped to my undergarments in the center of the clearing and closed my eyes. The first thing I created was the ailette, the garments that go between the armor and my skin. It felt strange having clothes just appear on me, out of nowhere. Next came the chausse and the bracers. The byrnie, or tunic of mail was the most important part, so I did it now while I knew it worked but before I got too tired, as the weight manifested on me I realised how heavy armor actually was. Following that came the coif and spaulders. I gave them a hard leather base so they protruded off of my shoulders, protecting my neck. Climbing back up on the rock in the center of the clearing, I hung my feet off the edges and willed a pair of sabatons into existence. Making sure to point the top of the front so it extends up enough to guard my knee as I ride. Standing up on top of the rock, my plate boots clanked and my chain clinked together. I realised I was standing in exactly the same spot that Agni was when Eira created and rose the rock beneath his feet.

“I’m missing something..” I wondered aloud. I thought back to the vision of what Agni was wearing, and realised I was missing a tabard. A tabard was a piece of cloth that draped over the front and back of the person wearing it, and had a head hole in it, their arms stick out of the sides, completely free to move how they normally do. The purpose of a Tabard is to show your allegiance, as well as who and/or what you fought for. I pondered for a moment about what to put on my tabard, and my eyes were drawn to Ailani. “Perfect!” I shouted and jumped, landing loudly due to extra weight that I was not used to, as well as metal and rock never connect quietly. Closing my eyes yet again, I conjured a tabard on my shoulders, and I even remembered the sword belt to hold it tight against me. My tabard was jet black, with a pure white wolf on the chest and back, and the wolf had dazzling blue eyes. I stood up straighter on top of the rock, my pose mimicking the pose that Agni was in when he stood here so many moons ago. As I stood up, my companion sidled up to the rock, wearing the saddle and saddlebags of supplies.  

The yard-long drop no longer scared me, and as she got close enough I leaped from the top of the rock and landed nimbly, despite all the armor, in the saddle. I sat naturally as if I had been riding wolves for years, even though I have never ridden anything in my life. Ailani crouches, ready to run at my command. I let out a yell that was not quite a word, but it might have sounded something like “Haaa!”, and she launched forward, bounding over the rock as if it were merely the root of a tree. Ailani charged, gathering speed and my heart stopped as I noticed she was running right for the northernmost skein-root door. Instantly I closed my eyes and saw it jump open far enough for us to get through. I opened my eyes just in time to see it finish opening as we bounded through the opening that had not been there moments before. We must have reached top speed by now, and by the time I looked back the doorway to the clearing was already shrinking.

“Where are we going?” I shouted over the sound of the wind whistling through my ears at what must have been 35 miles per hour. I put my hand on her herculean neck and a memory began to flow.

***

“I need help.” A voice that is not mine rumbles softly out of my mouth. “WE need help. We need someone with the sight to lead us to victory..”

My voice trails off into silence as the vision ends.

***

“Ah,” I lecture myself. “There is people out there, and they are in dire need of some help, and I happen to be the only one with the power to help them.” I smile, knowing that someone needs me, whether they know it is me they need or not. “We’re gonna help them,” I speak directly to Ailani. “I’m going to lead them to victory, and we are going to save them. If it’s the last thing I do, these people will be safe.” I vowed, the conviction in my voice so bona fide, I could taste it. As we ran farther away from the clearing, snow began to fall between the leaves of the treetop canopy, and the air began to smart as it rushed across my bare face. My breath came out in clouds as Ailani continued to run, and I was amazed. She had been running at a full-on sprint for almost 25 minutes now and she was still going full steam, her breathing quickened only slightly since we left the clearing. I glanced at the ground, noticing that the snow would have been up to my knees and Ailani was clearing it as if it were flat grass. Marvelling at how majestic my spirit-guide was, I sniffled as the cold air began to bother me, and I buried my face in Ailani’s warm fur. Moments later I was warm and comfortable.  I bounced cathartically in the saddle, in tune with Ailani’s steady lope. Before I knew it, sleep had taken me. I rested peacefully as we ran, trusting my companion to keep me safe as we travelled.

###

I was roused utterly too soon by a low guttural growl from my companion. Shaking my head to clear my eyes, I realised we had come to total halt. I sat up in the saddle, instantly alert. Ailani growled again, her tail straight up like a war banner. I looked forward, straining to see what she saw. During my slumber, the eternal dusk that is apparently not eternal had turned into what had to have been the darkest night I have seen. Ailani tensed under me, and the hair on the back of her neck stood at attention, and quivered as if each individual hair was cold. Ailani’s chest rumbled beneath me again as she growled once more. She stared straight ahead, her ear twitching as if she heard something.

“Hmph,” I whined. “I don’t hear or see anything. Can you show me?” I asked nicely. I placed a hand against one of her giant shoulders, expecting a memory like normal. Only, this time it was different.

Suddenly I could see in the darkness, past about 4 inches of pure white snout I didn’t remember having. Almost immediately, I realised I was seeing through Ailani’s eyes. It must have been possible due to the bond between our souls. I could see a man, maybe sixty yards from where we stood, lurching towards us. He was a giant of a man standing at least 8 feet tall, even hunched over like he was. He appeared to be clutching his right arm; it hung, apparently limp, at his side uselessly. I wondered if I could tap in to my companion’s other senses too, as if they were my own.

I focused on my sense of smell, and after a moment I could smell everything around us. I could smell the deer that had been here around four days ago. I smelled my own human fear, terrified at the sight of the colossus stumbling towards us. An unfamiliar smell, a smell that Ailani did not recognize hit her olfactory nerve. She may not have recognized the smell, but I did. It was the scent of sweat mixed with the iron-ridden scent of blood. I realized he was injured, gravely. My sense of duty took over and I realized this would be the first person I help.

“HALT!” I hollered, in the most commanding voice I could muster. And it was pretty commanding. Through Ailani’s eyes I saw him flinch and stumble, as his tree-trunk legs barely managed to catch him and keep him vertical. “Who goes there!?” I demanded of the behemoth, only 15 yards ahead of us now.

“I am Thurgrin, son of Midvitne.” rumbled an impossibly deep voice, in what I pegged as a ‘Norse’ accent. “I mean you no harm..” And Thurgrin, the giant, raised his left arm in a gesture of peace as he hobbled closer to us. In the pale light I noticed he was ready for battle, armed to the teeth. A baldric slung across his chest that was at least three of mine wide, held a claymore that was longer than I was tall. The blade itself was six feet long; the hilt, that was as long as my forearm, extended above his useless shoulder. An emerald the size of my fist was set in the pommel of his weapon. Hanging from his sword belt was a sword that looked comically small for him, the sword was a hand-and-a-half sword with the blade itself only totalling what I estimated around 35 inches. Set in the pommel of the hand-and-a-half sword was a sapphire with a diameter of only a couple inches, maybe a third of the size of the emerald in the pommel of the b*****d sword slung across his back.

The next thing I noticed was his hair; jet black and curly, knotted and damp with sweat. Plastered to his pauldrons, the tips of his hair were beginning to frost over. From his chin thrived a thick, knotted beard, brindled with gray. His beard was tucked into his sword-belt, a tuft the length of a midsize dagger extended below the belt. Thurgrin wore no Tabard, but he did sport an elaborate gold belt buckle, engraved with the image of a pale grey fist being stricken against a table. Thurgrin’s eyes were yellow, like those of a large feline, and that caught me off guard. The entirety of people that I had met in my life had only had either green or brown eyes, I had never seen a human with any other colored eyes.

“Your arm,” I gestured. “What happened to it?” I asked, more out of fear than curiosity.

“My arm..” He replied and let go of his arm, twisting his torso to reveal the wound. “One of the little b******s got me good. He came at me from behind, and I heard him, I managed to throw my arm up in time to block the deathblow.” As I saw the wound I gagged, there was a gash down his entire tricep. The muscle in his arm flapped in the breeze, and I could see his bone.

“You’re probably going to want to lay down for this,” I declared. “I can fix it, but it might hurt.” Thurgrin knelt in front of me, instead of lying down, which I guess was close enough. I placed my hands a few inches above the gruesome wound, and closed my eyes. I saw the flapping skin begin to knit itself together, and with a sickening sound I heard it as it happened. After what felt like an eternity, the wound was closed. I exhaled, suddenly exhausted. The second I opened my eyes, everything went black.

###

I woke up for the second time in the last hour, with a jolt this time. There was a fire burning not far from where I lay, curled up against Ailani’s giant shoulders. She licked my face as I stirred, which drew from me a laugh that turned almost immediately into a cough. I sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, and noticed Thurgrin across the fire. He noticed when I sat up.

“I think you exhausted yourself, boy.” He rumbled wisely. “It’s not very common to run across someone with the sight these days. It is especially uncommon to meet someone who can use it as adeptly as you.” He grinned at me across the fire, showing rotted yellow teeth. “I owe you my life, for without your sight I would have surely lost it this night.” He rubbed his arm, as if checking to make sure it was actually healed. “You never even told me your name boy, how can I owe my life to someone if I don’t even know what to call them?” He laughed, the sound like rolling thunder.

“Jerrik,” I spoke weakly. “Jerrik Ringvaldr. Pleased to meet you, son of Midvitne.” As I spoke, I dug in the saddlebags for a piece of seasoned meat. I ravenously bit into the meat, eating like I had not eaten in years. “You never told me why you were fighting, only how you got hurt.”

“Well,” he began, pulling a pipe out of a pouch on his belt. “I was hunting moose, and they ambushed me out of nowhere.” He puffed civilly on the pipe. “My guess is they wanted the moose I was tracking.” He absentmindedly rubbed the pommel of his claymore that lie against the log he was sitting on. “Have you any weapons besides the teeth of your she-wolf?” he asked quizzically.

“N-no,” I shivered and moved closer to the fire. “Why? Do I need one?” I questioned him.

“These are rough times, raids have been happening a lot more frequently as of late,” he explained. I would hate to see a young’n like yourself get ambushed, especially since you have the gift of sight.” he reached toward the sword on his hip and I tensed up, as Ailani began to growl menacingly. Instantly, his hands went up in a non-threatening gesture.

“I meant no threat,” he apologized. “I was actually going to gift to you the sword, for it is not long enough to be much more than a toothpick to myself.” He chortled loudly at his own jest. “I haven’t a use for it, but you haven’t any weapons.” He said matter-of-factly.

“I have no skill with a blade,” I admitted. “The extent of my skill with a blade is to skin the animals that my father brought home.” I confided, ashamed. Thurgrin rose to his massive feet with an unintelligible gripe and approached me, offering a ham-sized hand for me to grasp. I took hold and he hoisted me up as if I was not a full-grown man wearing an entire suit of mail, but instead, a newborn babe. He unbuckled the sword from his belt and offered it to me, the flat of the scabbard lay across his hands. In his hands the weapon looked even smaller than it had on his monstrous hip. I plucked the blade from his hands and fumbled with my sword belt, trying to attach the scabbard to the belt.

Once I finally got the sword and spathe attached to the left side my belt (it only took me four tries) I wrapped my gloved hand around the hilt of the blade, and admired the sapphire in the pommel as I did so. Seeing it up close, I noticed there were countless tiny sapphires set in the crossguard of the blade. I grasped the hilt tightly and began to draw the blade from it’s sheath.

“Halt!” Boomed Thurgrin, causing me to panic and stumble backwards, tripping over one of Ailani’s giant paws. The giant guffawed gregariously at my blunder, and for the second time in five minutes, he offered his assistance to help me off the ground. “That blade is a virgin blade, given to me by Harvardr, the Jarl of Torstvedt  for bringing glory to his family. I taught his boy the art of combat for 10 winters. The spring after his 10th winter under my tutelage, he brought down his first Jotun by his lonesome. The boy is one hell of a berserker if I ever seen one.” Thurgrin praised his prodigy. “Before you draw that blade from it’s sheath, you must bless it with a name that will bring you and your weapon glory.” He declared in a sobering tone. I stood up straightly, gripping the hilt with my gloved hand.

My face hardened as I tried to think of a name that would convey power, inspire glory; I wanted to christen my blade with a name that would signal the coming of victory. The name I give my blade will actuate loyalty, and carve a path for me through my enemies. I turned to Thurgrin, and knelt down, one hand on the pommel of my blade, and looked up at him.

“I have never been in a fight. This blade is powerful, I cannot subject this blade to being owned by someone who is incompetent and incapable of defending himself. I will only baptize this blade if you will instruct me in the art of combat with blade and bow, mounted and on foot.” I stood up and stared Thurgrin in the eye, my face unwavering as he contemplated the prospect.

“Do you think you can handle it, boy?” He asked.

“Of course I can. I have to save this land, and to do that I need an army,” I said deadpan. “To get an army of course, I’ll need to know how to fight and be able to prove myself. Thus, nothing you put me through can be worse than what would happen if I were to fail this kingdom. Whether or not I can handle it, I am going to learn anyways. I’m not going to give up until I have my own kingdom, with my own húskarlar at my beck and call.” I announced.

“My father died at the hands of Herleif. I will take over this kingdom, and I will take my revenge upon Jarl Herleif.” I realised at this point I was roaring, and took a deep breath to calm myself. I looked at Thurgrin to see him beaming at me, respect and admiration evident in his yellow eyes and matching teeth.

“Aye,” Thurgrin agreed. “I’ll teach you. You have a good head on your shoulders, albeit slightly pompous and conceited, but you have the head there.” Thurgrin surprised me by approaching me and kneeling before me. He had his head bowed, but his head was level with my chest.

“I would be honored,” he venerated me. “to be your first húskarl. I will teach you combat, if you will not make me a thrall again. I was a thrall for the last twenty moons, and I managed to escape.” Thurgrin remained on his knee as he revealed his true nature to me.

“That is truly how I got the wound on my arm, the karl of the fief I was enthralled at, tried to slay me as I left.” he disclosed. “As I left, I grabbed the virgin blade that now sits on your hip. My plan was to sell it, but it is in a better place now.” He sputtered, contritely.

“It is of no matter,” I spoke authoritatively. “The blade rests in my hands now, and you will make these hands capable.” I looked at him sternly. “Am I correct, son of Midvitne?” I asked, and he immediately nodded his head in an affirmative.

“Rise, vidar,” I commanded. “He who fights in the forest, I make you commander of the húskarlar. You shall command my regiment of body guards. You are ‘Adon Húskarl Vidar’, the head housekarl from the forest.” I titled my new comrade, and he bowed respectfully.

Ailani came to my side and nuzzled my hand, and I got a flash of congratulations from her, not even long enough to change my perception. As she padded back to the fire to lie down, Thurgrin stood up.

“What now, my lord?” He quizzed me.

In response, wrapped my hand around the hilt of my blade, and grasped tightly. Seeing my hand tighten around the hilt, he knelt immediately.

“Now, Thurgrin,” I said. “Meet the bringer of triumph, the inspiration for glory, a divine beauty I will use to inspire loyalty ” I spoke loudly. “Bow before Svanhildr, Vengeance of Jerrik!” I bellowed as I drew my blade from my sheath and held it above my head. As the fire flickered back and forth across my blade, Thurgrin retrieved his claymore from it’s baldric and held it in a relaxed pose. Holding Svanhildr above my head, I roared at Thurgrin. Ailani stood up as my roar ended, while Thurgrin raised his claymore above his head in a salute. Thurgrin roared as Ailani howled their fealty to me.