In the burning ruins of an ancient city, Ragnar Lothbrok's eldest son with his second wife Aslaug, Ubbe, found one lone survivor. A young girl. A girl with deep and dark and red eyes, and hair black as night with a single streak of white.
"Aila." Ha...
I'm alive. I think it's been two and a half years since the last update heheh.
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Life has completely fucked me over, it's a wonder I'm even writing at all.
IS ANYONE EVEN STILL HERE???? I LOVE YOU IF YOU'RE STILL READING THIS.
I want to go back and rewrite/edit everything but I cannot even begin to find the energy for that. I really don't know what's happened to my writing in recent years but enjoy whatever the fuck this thing is. Like I had a complete story for Aila and her past planned out but then I abandoned it because . . . idk why ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Okay, this chapter's criminally short but hey at least it's something.
*
Kiev
Aila stared up at the ceiling.
"Do you see anything, Wise one?"
"Red."
Bloodeye shivered at the tone in his voice.
"White."
She inhaled sharply.
"Gold."
The shieldmaiden blinked.
"I see pain and suffering, horror beyond the telling of it. But there is also life. Hope. A glimmer of hope in the darkness."
"Should I be afraid?" Aila asked softly. The sword that lied on her chest was heavy, a familiar weight that brought her comfort.
"You should always be afraid, Bloodeye, for the world holds many terrors that lie unknown. Be cautious, and be prepared for anything. Everything."
Eyes narrowing in question, she sat up, holding her old trusted sword close to her chest. In the corner of her eye, Aila noticed a hooded figure that rocked back and forth. "Does that mean that I will survive?" She asked, not turning to the Seer.
No reply.
Aila closed her eyes with a sigh, opening them to find that she was alone in the room.
Enough of that.
Aila rose from the bed, fully clothed and ready. She stood, tying her belt and securing her scabbard to sheathe her sword. Today, She told herself. we will leave this place.
