I live in a dock town where everything revolves around fish, the economy is fuelled by it, it's the easiest meal you can get onto your table, and there's nowhere to work that isn't involved with fish. I've lived here my whole life and have wanted to leave since I was born. My only real good possession is a scabbard but I don't have a sword so I just put random stuff in it. The problem with the whole town situation is that it's a dangerous world outside and I've got nowhere to go. I can think about it tomorrow though.
"Wake up!" Yelled Mike. "It's time for work Ayayron!" Mike proceeded to slap me with a slime covered glove. I sadly did not wake up, and he moved onto the next item he saw, a fish. It took one slap of the cold scally Cod to wake me up.
"Why," I mumbed. Why's he gotta do that? I thought to myself. Mike's walking out finally, probably getting a bigger fish. I think while I get up slowly. When I'm up I take in the morning air and smell the same smell I've smelt everyday. Fish. Every morning of my life I smell it, all day as well. Bam! My door is about to fall off its hinges, Mike walks in menacingly with a giant halibut. My "Gudmund" residency sign looks like it's on its last life.
I stood up as fast as I could and walked out the door, telling Mike on my way out, "I'm up, and you don't need to bring a halibut."
"It was a nice fish." Mike says. Mike may seem nice at first but if you've worked for him as long as I have you'd know he's actually a fat and mad fisherman with anger issues. I'm only working for him because other fish bosses are meaner and fatter. Some look like they've turned into fish after fishing in the seas of Norway for so long. Mike's been living in this town for his whole life like most others. I couldn't believe how someone would stay here their whole life.
We're on our way to the docks peacefully and then Mike snaps. "Hurry up Gudmund!" I'm not a step behind him, I thought. We have to leave the docks by six every morning or else we're behind our daily schedule which would hurt all of our wallets. We've gotta load the boats with the supplies quickly because no one shows up on time except for me and Mike. Mike lives a block down from me so on his way to the docks he so nicely wakes me up and walks me to work. I don't appreciate it but my hopes are to get a raise off this kinda stuff. The business is tough because most of our pay is off selling the fish to distributors ourselves. The bosses only bring people out to fish, they've already got partners in the market who will sell their fish. That's how most people rise to boss status. The slippery docks worry me every time we load the boats. They're just accidents waiting to kill one of our men. If someone falls over into the freezing water they're done for it, plus no one gets paid enough to save them. It's five-fifty and the whole crew is here with the boats loaded so we head out.
We're finally back after fishing the whole morning in our small boat and as I haul my net of cod around the market this town is still trying to take my life.
"What? You don't want cod?" I asked the fish market owner.
"We don't need it," he replies. I look over to his backroom and see a wall full of fish. If he doesn't pay me then what am I gonna do with this fish? I thought. All the other markets have been fully stocked as well.
"Plus I dont like cod," he says. At this point, I knew I was done. No one will buy this full price anyways. On my way back I stopped at the biggest market and dropped off my fish, receiving half what I could have made. It felt pointless to keep living the life I lived, so I walked myself to the local bar to try alcohol for the first time. I sat down and ordered an akvavit. I don't know what akvavit is, but this better be good, I thought to myself while sitting in the bar alone at one-o'clock in the afternoon. As I get my drink a group of washed up drunk fishermen bust through the door shouting at each other about some key. How are they drunk before entering the bar? I wondered.
"It exists and it can save us, I swear on my first filleting knife that I received from my father when I was the age of two! I use that knife to this day and have not once considered switching to the new blades that are advertised in stores and claimed to be the best because I know that no knife is better than it!" Exclaims the big one.
"You're full of shit!" Screams one of the others.
Still, I cannot go by peacefully when I live here, although this key sounds more interesting than fish. Alright, the big moment, I'm about to take a sip of the liquor. As soon as the liquid touches my tongue and the fumes reach my nose I gag. It was acidic, bitter, and downright awful. I felt broken knowing I tried it. This is what the rest of the fishermen resort to, throwing their lives away to drinking and fishing, plus there's no sugar or fizz. I couldn't believe that this sad town was fueled by a sad drink as well. After getting up to leave, I decided to stay and talk to the man who was advocating about the key. Something interesting, I thought. I walked over to the corner of the bar where he now sat alone after his friends left because of his speech.
"What's the key?" I asked him. He looked up at me with a frustrated look and dried tears on his cheek. Just by getting closer I could tell he was a fish boss. He's Grizwald! The meanest fish boss in town, I thought. He was big, angry looking, and fish-like in an ugly way.
"I don't even know," Grizwald muttered.
"Huh, then why are you preaching about the key and that it can save you?" I ask him. Grizwald starts to get up as if he's going to leave.
"To be honest, I just wanted to believe in something so that I could escape this place," Grizwald tells me. What! A fish boss leaving the town, they run this place and enjoy their lives ripping us off! I thought.
"Why would a boss want to leave, you wonder?" Grizwald says.
"I'm done with the cycle of this town. I started as a boy who wanted to go out and adventure but I couldn't. I was scared and I had nothing to bring with me. Eventually like everyone else I fell into the cycle and slowly made my way up to being a boss where I thought life would be good. But I was wrong. It brings me nothing but fish, I'm not happy here. The key is what could've saved me, it's hidden in the mountains and opens the greatest treasure to exist!" Grizwald shouts, and then slumps back down.
"If I had gone for that key when I was younger I could be the richest man in the world. But I didn't. I stuck to the cycle and grew old." As bad as I felt for Grizwald, I felt even more scared. Afraid that I could end up like him. As I thought that my mind sparked. This is it, I need to find this key!, I thought.
"Where is the key hidden?" I asked.
"Up in the mountains is where the key lies, I've been informed by foreigners," Grizwald says.
"You believe in foreigners?" I asked. I'm still very skeptical of this.
"Only thing to believe," he replies. I start to get up and start to walk out.
"Well I'm off," I tell him as I go out the door. What a sad man, I thought. Deep thought was put into this journey for the key. I've heard that there's monsters outside the town, I don't know how I'll make it to the mountains alive. There's a great storm off in the distance closing in at a fast pace. Bam! Grizwald bursts through the door and walks past me. Looking at him standing up I can see that Grizwald is not fit to survive the outside world. He passed by me with a vague expression and without saying a word, making his way to the docks. What's he doing? I thought. Fishermen are sprinting out of their boats and on to land and Mike walks out onto the street. My eyes turn to the sea when I catch a glimpse of a dark spot far from the docks. Out in the ocean there's a little boat with a massive creature on top. It looks to be ten feet tall, covered from head to toe in seaweed, with yellow eyes glowing through its dark green mask. It frantically waves its arms like it's warning us of a storm. I reach for my sheathe only to remember that I've got no sword, I don't know what I'd do with a sword anyways. I see Mike walking down towards the bar and notices everyone's looking at the sea.
Mike stopped in shock, staring in fear at the creature and said, "My god. A Draugen, I thought they were but a myth."Mike starts breathing heavily and sweating profusely as Grizwald keeps walking towards the docks.
"These storms will wreak havoc on our town!" Mike yells.
"What's Draugen?" I shout to Mike over the sound of the wind.
"You shut up! But I'll tell you. The Draugen is the ghost of a sailor who warns that death is to come!" Mike shouts back.
The docks are shaking aggressively as waves crash on both sides. Grizwald steps onto the wood and marches forward to the roaring sea. The Draugen starts to roar and rip apart the boat it lies on. Gusts of wind fly through the town and knock down people walking by, but Grizwald continues to walk.
"What are you doing!" I yell to Grizwald but he can't hear me or rather he just doesn't care. The water on either side of the dock starts to pull back and form giant waves. I start to run but it's too late. The waves crash into the docks, engulfing Grizwald and sending wooden planks above the clouds. When the water cleared Grizwald was gone. Killed by the sea. I look back at the terrifying beast of a man covered in seaweed sitting on the remains of his rowboat but it disappears as a massive wave capsizes the boat.
Two days later and I've been thinking about that Draugen, it makes me wonder if it was the Draugen that killed him or if it only warns that death is to come and Grizwald did it to himself. I couldn't help but think back to the thought of growing old like Grizwald. Grizwald's also made me think of whether I should go or not. To find the key. He had the same wish as me to leave this town but it's not like I have the resources to leave. I knew what broke Grizwald though. It was this town itself and himself. Only if I had a weapon to go into this empty sheathe, I thought. As I walked down the street a shiny object in one of the stores caught my eye. I was filled with excitement when I looked over and saw the pretty sword. I'd seen it before but it never sparked my interest until I thought of searching for the key. The blade was made of iron, it's medium length, and the hilt was made of black stone with the design of a bear carved into it. It's beautiful, but it's 5,000 dollars! That's around 80 weeks of pay! I can't wait that long, I'll grow old like Grizwald, I thought. Then a thought flies through my head, what if I stole it? I won't be in town much longer if I go through with it. Ok, it's settled.
I waited until the darkest of night hidden in a bucket I picked up from the fish market, no one is going to check if someones in it, also I thought if I'm stealing the sword then stealing this won't matter, plus I'm about to turn sixteen so even then I can legally do what I want. The shop owner finally walks out the front entrance near three a.m. I wondered how much sleep he gets. Quickly I dash to the front door, pick up a rock, and then smash the window on the door. I reach for the handle and into the shop I go, through the front door and out the same way with my brand new sword. The sun is starting to rise as I walk to the border of town. My new sword is hidden under my jacket. I take one last look at our sad fishing village and walk the trail to the mountains thinking about what this key might do for me.
The Start of a Journey
The trail I walk on is surrounded by meadows. I can see tall mountains to the left of me and the cliffs to my right that connect to the ocean. My trip wasn't planned out well, the only possessions I had were my new sword, my sword holder, three fish, and the clothes on my back. On my way down the trail I pass by a farm with what looks like eight rows of potatoes. My stealing streak is still hot so I decide to go for another, but I'm interrupted by the stick of a broom hitting my head, knocking me into the crops and then the hard bristles being used to scratch my face.
"Why are you on my farm trying to steal my crops!" An old man shouts in my face, spitting all over me.
"Uh," I stuttered as I got up. Then Bam! Another blow to the head with the broom, knocking me back onto the ground. I didn't really know what to say so I tried moving my jacket out of the way to show my sword in hopes to intimidate him. I grab the hilt of my sword but instinctively the old man deals a finishing blow to the top of my head with his broom. The sky turns dark quickly and I fall to the ground unconscious.
"What's your name?" The old man asks me as I wake up. I'm in an old bed inside his house, and I see at least two weapons on every wall. Axes, bows, hammers, swords, and clubs everywhere.
"Ayayron," I mumble.
"Thats a stupid name," the old man scoffs.
"I didn't choose it," I say
"Well you should've chosen a better one, I chose my name you know," he says, ignoring my reply.
"Why, and why are you telling me this?" I ask
"Forgot my old name plus the new one's probably better anyway," he answered, ignoring my other question.
"So why are you telling me this?" I ask again.
"Ohh! I thought you had asked me something. Well you see, I live on a farm in the middle of a field beside the mountains, and my only visitors are thieves like you, but unlike the others, you are weak so I've finally got someone to talk to," he answers. Wow! I had never been so humbled before by anyone, yet an old man, I thought to myself.
"How're you so strong anyways?" I ask him.
"I'm an old soldier who's retired. I've fought countless battles against armies, Vikings, and armies of Vikings. I was famous when I was younger, you know, but now that I'm old, I've decided to live a peaceful life for the rest of my days," he says.
"So what's your new name anyways?" I ask.
"Old man" He says.
"You're not ser-" I start to say as he shoves the rough dusty bristles of the broom into my face, scraping my eyelids while sending dust bunnies down my throat.
"You don't deserve to know my name, you're just a thief to me still," the old man says. I thought that he was going to treat me well because it seemed that he wanted someone to talk to. I quickly act to try and redeem myself.
"I'm sorry for trying to steal your crops, please let me stay here for a while until I'm fit to go out into the mountains!" I plead.
"Alright. Sounds good to me, but you have to work for me as you stay," the old man says. That was easy, I thought as I fell back to sleep. I was surprised when I woke up the next morning to find that my head still hurt. I got out of the bed and smelt the smell of fresh baked bread. I walk out of the room and find that there is only one other room other than the bedroom in the house and a chicken is in it. This other room is the kitchen, living room, storage, and a second weaponry. The old man had made bread in his stone oven and had potatoes and eggs already cooked on the table.
"Hey you're up! Breakfast is outside, you've got a big day ahead of you!" He says.
"What about the stuff on the table?" I asked.
"That's my breakfast," the old man says with a confused look on his face. I've learned my lesson to not question this man at all. I walk outside to find two baked potatoes sitting on the ground. I think of leaving but the thought of Grizwald shoots through my head and I eat. Both taste great compared to fish. I cherish every bite while walking along the crops. The old man walks out with his broom.
"Today's work is harvesting all the potatoes, eggs, and getting chickens," he shouts out. I don't see any chickens, I thought.
"Where are the chickens!" I shout back.
"I've only got one chicken!" He shouts back.
"No, where are they? I'm not asking how many chickens you have." I shout across the farm even louder than before.
"I don't know! I just found a chicken on my front porch yesterday so that's all I've got!"He shouts.
"So what do you want me to do about the chickens?" I shout back.
"Find some!" He shouts. Now what? How can I find chickens? I put the question aside and get to harvesting the potatoes. As I started to dig up the potatoes I saw out of the corner of my eyes, the old man suited with a helmet, shield, and with an axe, charging at me. My first instinct was to run, so I did. I dropped the potatoes and I ran as fast as I could. After about twenty seconds I looked back. The old man was sitting down on a stump drinking water and breathing heavily. I guess he's too old to be running like that. I walk over to him and ask what's up with him?
"Why are you dressed in armor chasing me?" I asked him.
"To make you find them chickens faster," he tells me in between breaths. I take his message as nothing judging on our past experiences and just keep on my way to find these things. I walk off to the base of the mountains, into a forest. After a few hours I hear some clucking from behind a bush, quickly I jump over to find only one chicken and I quickly scoop it up. Something's not right though, I smell blood, I hear the unsheathing of a blade and duck, barely missing the axe that swings above my head grazing the hairs that had not yet reacted to my movement. The blade hit a tree and almost sliced all the way through the trunk, stopping near the end. I turn quickly to see a giant of a man standing over me, he's at least two feet taller than me and about a hundred and fifty pounds over me, has long dirty blonde hair down to his shoulders, a short braided beard, blue eyes, and two chickens resting calmly in his scar covered arms. Cold sweat starts to run down my neck, I can't seem to run, my legs feel cold like all the blood seeped out of my body. All I can feel is the heartbeat of the chicken held tightly to my chest, his aura is too intimidating.
"Who are you, boy?" he asks, his low pitch makes the earth tremble. I was stuck, I couldn't talk, my voice had run away and would not face him. I saw his hand reach to the handle of his axe stuck in the tree and with one arm he pulled it out. I can feel my heart start beating at an insanely fast pace. My legs regain blood, and I start to run but I'm met with a leg sweeping the ground and knocking me off my feet.
"What is your name?" He demands. I'm crawling backwards, still holding the chicken in one arm, while breathing heavily. I grab at anything behind me to pull myself away. I can't think of fighting back, only running away. I think of the town and my fishing life, and pull myself up into a sprint. I put all my life into my legs, my breathing sharpens, and I can feel the wind rushing around me. When I get out into the open meadows, and look back at the forest with the chicken in my arms. All I see is a tree fall down in the woodland.
The Dangers of Adventure
Walking back to the farm I could not think of anything but that axe. Thinking about it I realize that there must have been blood on his axe which saved me. Had not the strong smell of blood been on there, my head would've been taken by the stroke of his swing. That iron smell blocked out everything else in my head. I get back to the old man who's still sitting on the stump gulping down water and walk past, showing him the chicken.
"Do you know where that chicken came from?" I ask the old man while passing him.
"Nope, just found it on my porch," he replies. My day was done and I went into the house and sat down at the table. The old man walks in, taking off his armor, putting it on the wall.
"Eggs," he says.
"What?" I ask.
"You've got eggs to collect," he tells me. Again I don't think much and rather just act, I walk out to the coop where I put the newfound chicken. The other chicken isn't even in the coop. When I look out, the sun is setting quickly behind the mountains. There's a slight breeze passing through all the flowers in the meadow, I sit to admire the mountains, it's a beautiful sight, I thought. When I explore the coop I find one egg. How'd he have so many for breakfast? I thought while walking back to the house.
"Good work." The old man says as I walk in while petting the chicken.
"Yep." I responded.
"You've given my back some rest," he tells me.
"So, where am I going to sleep tonight?" I ask. The old man pointed to a pile of hay wrapped in a bedsheet in the living room corner of the house. I didn't care. I felt grateful to the old man. He must have slept there after knocking me out, I thought. With the Viking still in my mind I asked the old man.
"Have you seen the Viking guy in the woods?"
"Nope." He responded. Whatever, I thought. I was too tired to tell the whole story. The old man tossed me the chicken. Smiling off at the mountains through the window.
"You've brought back an old memory from my fighting days. Sit down." The old man tells me. I sat down on the hay bed and started to pet the soft wings of the bird.
"I would like to tell you a story about a Viking I fought back in my day." He tells me.
"Alright." I responded. The old man was acting very well mannered unlike earlier. Maybe his nostalgia calms him down, I thought.
"This will be a long story so get comfortable." The old man tells me as he takes a seat at the table.
"When I was younger, around ten or so years older than you, I met the most intimidating man I'd ever seen during a simple expedition to find water. It was back in the days of war before all the kingdoms were torn down. My group of soldiers was camped out in the forest and I assume that the other man's group was staying there as well, on the other side of the river. He was as tall as a tree and looked stronger than a bear. He had long blonde hair and wore a giant bear fur over his shoulders. We were both collecting water when we noticed each other from across the river. Just from one look I could tell that he was stronger than any man I had ever fought. I stared at him for a long time and he stared back. Assessing whether or not we were enemies. He held an axe at his side and I held a sword at mine." The old man was standing up holding a broom as if it was his sword, then sat down once his smile had faded and proceeded on with his story.
"After a long time, he turned away and walked into the darkness of the night so I did the same. When I arrived back at camp my group was angry about my disappearance and said they were worried that I had been killed. I didn't care. I made up a lie and said I had gotten lost on my way back. I just saw them as fools who didn't appreciate the beauty of war and combat anyways. I didn't want any of them to know of the man who I had seen across the river. As the next night approached I felt a sense of eagerness within me. I wanted to see him again. I wanted to draw our weapons and battle. When night was about to fall I got up and told my group that I was going to go get water from the river again. They all gave me skeptical looks, but still, I didn't care. When I was approaching the river I was met with nothing. I hoped to see him on the other side but no one was there. I sat down and stared into the woods, looking for him to emerge from the trees. The silence of the forest grew louder and louder as I waited for him to arrive. But as I still am now I was stubborn then. I waited the whole night and when the sun rose I had given up. I was frustrated but more so devastated. My mind ran from thought to thought over and over. I made up reasons why he didn't show, that his group had moved camp, or that they were called to battle elsewhere. I wouldn't accept it, but deep in my mind lingered the thought that it was only I who wished to fight. I felt ashamed and embarrassed that I had worked myself up so much. Eventually I picked myself up and walked back to camp. When I made it back I found my group of soldiers waiting for me, all sitting around with their eyes glaring at me. Not a word was said as we packed up our site and got ready to move into the countryside. Our relationship would stay like this until my whole group was killed. The war had lasted three years and the final battle was soon to come in four months, but I did not know at the time. I thought that the fighting would last for years to come. As our group trekked through the country I reflected on our encounter. I was never angry but rather feared that we would never meet again. Little did I know, my worries wouldn't last forever as we were soon to meet. As my group went on with our journey, we fought battles after battles. My comrades would be wounded many times before their inevitable deaths. Day after day I would watch as volleys of arrows flew across the sky to pierce through the bodies of my comrades and witness the limbs of my fellow soldiers be hacked off. War was cruel but I knew that already and I didn't fret nor did I let it stop me from moving forward. In what was the final battle for my group only six remained of the original thirteen. In that battle, a month before the war ended I finally saw him again. It was an all out battle between the two armies and he was on the other side of the valley. Chaos surrounded us but I knew it was him. I couldn't mistake the giant Viking to be anyone else. My body was filled with excitement as I dove into the skirmish and slashed my way through the fields. I didn't let anyone get in my way as I sprinted to confront him. He was covered in soldiers but as I made my way closer I caught his eye and he acknowledged me. His stance strengthened and he threw off the men surrounding him. Once the gap between us was closed I held my sword tightly and was ready to swing with all my might. He did the same and raised his axe high above his head and then flung it to the ground. After our weapons first clashed, we fought till the battle around us had ended. Everyone who laid in the burnt meadows was either bleeding out or already dead. As I swung my sword, he would swing his axe. Each time our weapons met I could feel it shake the silent valley. We exchanged blows over and over until the grass had turned red. Our battle was everything that I had imagined. It seemed to go on forever, but at a certain point, I had jabbed too hard with my sword and he parried it causing me to fly past him. I looked him in the eyes and saw only an expression of sadness. My entire body was exposed to him but as he began to bring his axe down upon me he winced. Even though no wound that he had received would have made him stutter. The Viking lost his footing on the blood soaked ground and began to stumble while I regained my balance. It was the crack in the fortress, I put the last of my strength into my arms and spun my body, slashing straight through his stomach and letting out a waterfall of blood."
"Was that it then?" I interrupted. The old man then illustrated his finishing move by smacking me in the face with his broom.
"Of course not! What sticks with me most was what he said to me once the battle was over." The old man says.
"What was it?" I asked.
"After I had dealt that attack the Viking started to fall, and I turned away. But, before his body hit the ground he caught my shoulder and stood up. I turned around to meet his sorrowful eyes. His face looked full of regret, as I started to push off he muttered out 'Wait.' I looked back and he fell onto his knees, covered in blood. The Viking asked me 'How does one enjoy war?' He then confronted me and said, 'I saw your smile on the battlefield.' I was shocked that a man like him would ask this. I told him 'There's beauty to war.' But he snapped back yelling, 'There's no beauty to this!' He told me to take a look at the fields around us, so I did. The battlefield had turned into a cemetery. Bodies lined the earth, engulfed in the flames. Arrows stuck out from the ground like tulips, and weapons were scattered across the red stained ground. I thought nothing of it. I started to draw my sword to put him out of his misery but to my surprise he started to cry softly and told me that the sight of this pained him. Before his body crumbled he said to me, 'It's a shame how this could ever happen. How conflict could lead to destruction like this.' Then just as I was about to finish him off he mumbled, 'I just wish I could have lived a more peaceful life.' That's the part that I've thought about for a long time now. But at the time, I was disgusted that a warrior like him would die in regret. I watched as he fell to the ground while sheathing my sword. There's no pride in killing him I thought. As I walked away from that battle as the only survivor I dropped my weapon and took off my armor. I retired that day."
"I don't get it." I said.
What don't you get?" The old man replied.
"What stuck with you from the Viking?" I asked.
"His words of a peaceful life!" The old man yelled, reaching for his broom once more.
"Seems to me that you're still the same when it comes to war." I scoffed. The old man raised up his eyebrow. That was a big mistake to say that. The old man quickly performed an arsenal of broom attacks on me. Leaving my face bruised and dusty. After knocking me onto the floor, the old man finally replied.
"I do still enjoy combat but I've come to realize that war is not art but rather a terrible thing. It's a waste of human life. His words were what motivated me to start my own little farm as well."
"Did he have a little farm?" I asked.
"I don't know!" The old man shouted back being done with my stupid questions. After that we both went to bed and the work continued the next morning. For a week straight we did this. I worked on the farm all day while the old man annoyed me and taught me little combat tricks and then I'd sleep on the hay bed. On the eighth day I had planned to leave the next morning, as I felt prepared for the world. I felt assured that any challenge I faced could be overcome. My last task of the day was to collect eggs as always. The sky was a beautiful shade of orange with the setting sun and stars were visible above the clouds.
While walking back to the house I smell the strong smell of blood again and gag. I fall to the ground and feel a fountain of thick warm blood bubbling up my throat from my stomach but cough up nothing. I look up with my vision blurred and see death. The whole sky goes dark, all I can see is the glow of the dark sun cowering behind the mountains and the embodiment of death standing in front of me. Dressed as an old woman in black robes, holding a rake with four teeth, flaking with rust giving off its iron smell. I look at her face, covered in wrinkles and scabs. I try to speak but start choking instead as rats crawl down my throat while others surround me. She stares into my eyes as if she was deciding something. I can hear raspy breathing behind me, it sounds like a ghost, many ghosts. I turn my head and I see dead Vikings behind me, hundreds. Cold hands start to rise from the dirt and pull me under. The little light from the sun disappears as I'm buried under the soil. I'm no longer on the farm but underground, below the surface where the dead lay. I start to dig upwards frantically to get out and my heart begins to feel constricted as if a hand was squeezing it. My veins feel like they are about to burst, I'm filled with this nauseating sensation of blood pumping through me, but as I look up from the hole the woman turns and her robes sway in the wind. Covering the world in her disgusting malice and everything goes black.
I gasp, taking in more oxygen than ever, I feel my lungs expand, taking room from the other organs in my chest. I don't smell iron anymore. I look around for rats but see none. I get up and my head starts to hurt. I start to look around as I walk back to the house, but stop cold when I see the woman walking down the trail in the distance. What the hell was that? I thought to myself. I could feel everything when she was here and now it's all gone. I walk to the house with my hands on my head trying to stabilize myself. I walk in and the old man looks at me. He stares at me in fear. I start to feel something run down my left arm. I look down and see that there's four holes dotted in a straight line running from my shoulder down to my elbow.
"What happened to you?!" The old man shouts.
"I don't know!" I exclaim "I was outside and an old woman walked the path and put me into some nightmare," I stuttered out. The old man grabs at a cloth and starts wrapping it around my arm. Halfway through he stops, deep in thought, I could see the hysteria in his eyes forming like a tornado when he looked up at me.
"What old woman walked by here?" He shouts.
"What was she dressed in?" His body starts to shake, I can see tears forming in his eyes but he quickly wipes them away.
"She was dressed in a black robe, head to toe, and what's going on?" I shout.
"Did she have a rake or a broom?" He yells back.
"What does that matter!" I ask, thinking of the broom he beats me with.
"A rake or a broom!" He screams.
"A rake, she had a rake," I tell him
The old man stops wrapping my arm and walks to the room with the bed and lays down. I quickly followed him into the room to find him smiling on his bed with tears running down his cheek. I grab his arm and shake him.
"What's it mean, the rake?" I ask.
"It was Pesta, the old woman who walked down the path was Pesta," he tells me.
"Who's Pesta?" I ask.
"She's the plague of death, I knew she existed but never thought my farm would be visited by her. The Pesta brings only death to people who it crosses paths with. If she carries a rake then some will be spared but if she carries a broom then no one will survive," he tells me.
"Some will be spared?" I thought outloud.
The old man laughed, "don't worry, it's me who is dying. I can feel it already, my heartbeats slowing," I put my head to his chest and can see that he's not lying.
"Say, why did you even cross this farm in the first place, young man?" He asks. I started to feel a heavy weight in my chest, new feelings brought to the surface. Things I did not know I felt for this old man. My gratitude for him taking me in.
"I came across while on my journey to find a key in the mountains, I needed something to work for and this key seemed like it could be what saves me," I told him.
"Save you from what?" He asks. My mind went blank for a second. I left because of my town but did not have to find the key, I could live in the meadows like him.
"I think I wanted a sense of what adventure is like because of my old life," I tell him. "What's your name?" I ask.
"Svein Torsten," he replies.
"You should take my weapons, you'll need them on your trip," Svein tells me.
"Why, I've known you for such little time?" I ask.
"I don't quite know. I think you remind me of myself," Svein tells me. His eyes go blank and I can tell that he's died. I walked outside and sat on the porch with one of the chickens sitting on my lap, admiring the view of the meadows over the rolling hills and the mountains in the distance. I pet the chickens but they don't stay long and run off into the fields. I didn't know what to think at this point. I wanted to cry for him but I couldn't, tears wouldn't come. I felt that I was deeply indebted to Svein. In my hand I held a new club that I took to honor his final message. It was a basic club, but it was light and easy to swing, it started in a handle and then gradually got larger to the end which was curved. I figured I could put it to use if I ever encounter that Viking looking man ever again. Over the night I bury Svein and find a stone to mark his grave. I leave the farm after midnight and walk down the trail the Pesta was on. The trail wraps around to the other side of the mountain and then goes up into the valley. The next morning while walking down the trail I thought. I thought for a long time about Svein, I thought about what his old name might have been, or if he even had an old name at all. It made me sad but I still wondered about it as I walked away.
The Demon
I stop in the middle of the trail and look up. I've reached the valley between two mountains. I don't even know if these are the right mountains to look in but I'm not really on a schedule. I pick the mountain to my right and start my trek to the peak. On my way I run into a small village. The trail zigzags through the center. A market runs down the path. The market is full of people, most are running shops, some are buying things, and then there are some who look extremely sketchy. I'd probably fall into the sketchy section when people saw me. My club's shoved into the back of my pants because I only have one holder and I'm not gonna shove my sword into the back of my pants. I thought I'd take the opportunity of being in this town to make some money, so I started asking around town for jobs. I was desperate but I still rejected a few jobs like picking crops or cutting up food because I thought I'd stay true to what I said to Svein, that I wanted to feel a sense of adventure. I soon found something interesting. I found a man named Ivgan Ishtar, who has problems sleeping because a demon called a Mare attacks him when the sun goes down. I was thrilled to investigate and get to use either my sword or my new club. The encounter with the Pesta and my journey so far had opened my eyes to the world. I knew that this world was a beautiful yet cruel and disgusting place. He promised me a hundred dollars each night for three nights, and he wanted this thing dead. First day on the job and I show up at seven.
"So, what happens to you at night?" I asked Ivgan while walking with him to his sheep shed.
"I have nightmares of death and horrific things. I wake in the night without being able to move because of a weight pressing down on my chest. And my poor sheep have been attacked," Ivgan replies. I can see him gradually starting to shake and act more nervous. He fears the night that's to come. This guy must just have some problem in the head, I thought to myself as we got to the sheep shed.
"Get ready for what you're about to see," Ivgan tells me. Sure, like it's that bad, I thought. He starts to open the gate and I can smell the rotting bodies, as I inhale I smell the blood. I step in and the image shocks me, it's a horrific sight. I'm reminded of the Draugen and the Pesta. Dead sheep were hanging in the shed, impaled on the branches of a small tree growing in the middle. The trunk is covered in the blood running down from the sheeps bodies, forming a thick red puddle on the hay floor. Organs are hung like stockings, still dripping their blood, and every sheep's head is facing the entrance. There are seven of them, fourteen eyes. I can feel their eyes staring at me after death.
"You see what I mean! I woke up to this one morning, and no tree was ever there!" Ivgan exclaims, slapping my back to keep himself in reality. I started to question this job, the thought of leaving ran through my mind.
"When does this thing attack?" I asked instinctively, still staring at the sheep.
"I don't know, sometime after dark. You'll have to stay the whole night," Ivgan says back to me. Ivgan went to his home but I stayed in the shed until it became dark out. I stared at the mangled bodies of the sheep as their horizontal striped eyes stared back. The branches that ran through their bodies were thick and the other ends had smaller branches sprouting out. There's no way to hang them like that without some sort of witchcraft, plus a tree grew overnight, I thought to myself as I unsheath my sword. It's time for work, I thought to myself holding my sword in my right hand with my club in my left. I went back to the house to start my first night on the job. I sit outside Ivgan's bedroom and wait for the demon. Ivgan's family has been staying at a local inn for the time being. I stay fully alert and do not think of anything other than killing this demon. My mind is composed. The night goes by quietly. The silence felt awfully disturbing until I heard a screech from the shed.
I get up immediately without waking Ivgan from his sleep and run outside. I tighten my grip on my sword and club and creep into the shed without making a sound. I see nothing, the shed's quiet, I start to think if something might be happening to Ivgan inside the house. Crunch! I hear something rustle behind the tree, I can smell the blood and can sense the evil aura, I feel a lump in my throat and swallow. I look back up to the sheep and their eyes meet mine but there's only six, a freezing chill runs down my spine, goosebumps start to form on my arms. The last was hidden behind the tree. I started to walk in a wide circle around the tree with my back scraping the wall, not taking an eye off of the trunk. As I get around I can see the sheep's body, almost torn completely in half. It's been ripped off the tree, the Mare did this. I start to creep closer and the carcass shakes. I stop walking, my breath silences, I can hear nothing. Then it starts shaking again, more aggressively as if someone was attacking it. It's inside the sheep! I don't think twice, dropping my club and bringing my left hand to the hilt of my sword, I raise it above my head and bring it to the ground, slashing the sheep in half. I lose my balance and fall backwards onto the hay. I can't catch my breath, I'm terrified of whatever that was. After taking a deep breath I creep over to the sheep and see bite marks inside the ribcage. I started to breathe heavily again, dropping my sword, while staring at the dismantled body in fear. It escaped, all I could see was sheep, the demon was gone. As I lean in again, I notice a severed hand the size of a small child's. It's covered in hair and has sharp claws on the end of each finger. It's wounded, I thought while picking up my sword and club. Bam! I hear the door of the house slam shut in the distance. I'm up in a heartbeat running to the house. I stop in a skid at the front door when I hear someone crying, a quiet whimper. The door creaks as I open it. I step in and can hear a soft wail coming from the bedroom. I feel my stomach drop, my courage is being tested each step I take. I turn the corner to the bedroom and see it. Exposed by the moonlight. A small man looking child sits in a squat with his back facing me on top of Ivgan's chest. It's covered in dark brown fur and doesn't look like a human. Its feet are big for its size, it looks to be three feet tall, and its ears are big and pointy at the ends. The Mare. I thought. It's rocking back and forth while holding its left arm and whimpering. Blood runs down from its severed arm onto Ivgan's chest as Ivgan starts to howl in his sleep. My stomach makes a noise and its ears twitch. They point backwards, facing me. Its head starts to turn and I can see its face. My eyes can't look away from it. Its face is covered in hair and looks like the mix of an old man and an ape. It snarls at me, showing its fangs. Its mouth opens and I can hear air start to come out and a raspy voice follows.
"You. You cut me! It was you who did this to me!" Tears are streaming down from the Mare's eyes but its pupils are stone cold, staring at me, I can smell the anger and hate within its blood. It clamps its jaw down hard and breathes loudly through its teeth. I respond by taking a step forward into an athletic stance, right foot before left, with my sword in my right hand and club in my left. I can feel my body shaking and try to calm myself. I inhale and almost on cue the Mare screeches and leaps at me.
"Aaaahhh!" I yell out as loud as I can and twist my body clockwise while stepping forward. Keeping a strong left arm, meeting the Mare's skull mid-air with my club, and hitting it across the room to my right, into the stone wall. I heard a crack of bones when its head was met by my club. I sheathe my sword, deciding the club is more appropriate while the Mare gets up. It opens its mouth trying to speak but instead throws up blood and pulls out one of its fangs that was barely hanging onto its gums. Its feet tense up and its toes dig into the wood. I bring my club over to the right side of my body, holding it with my right hand pointing downwards, and letting my left arm hang out in the air. I sink down and get low, ready to react. My body is no longer shaking. I do not need to advance, the Mare will come to me, I said to myself in my head. The Mare lets out a cry and scrapes at its head where I hit it. I could see the dark liquid seep from its skull, staining its fur red and dripping onto the floor. It snarls then charges me in an instant going for my legs. I feel the adrenaline rush through my body and my arms and legs feel like hot molten rock.
"Aaaaaahhhh!" I roar while leaning back, lifting up my left leg. When the Mare's within range I bring my foot down and step forward, cracking the wood underneath me, and swinging my club upwards like a bat. Smashing the Mare straight in the face. As my club makes contact with the Mare's face, I could see its teeth shatter, followed by its nose caving into its head, and then its skull start to fold around the metal like pudding. It flies into the ceiling, spraying blood all over the room and falls onto the hardwood. Its body twitches and I hit it once more to put it out of its misery. My god, I thought. I couldn't even tell what's what, Its body was more or less intact, but its head was all over the place. Ivgan was snoring away somehow and I really had nothing more to do so I walked out to the living room and slept for the night. When morning comes, I walk outside and then shortly after I hear Ivgan start to scream. He runs out of the house, meeting me outside.
"Is that the Mare?" Ivgan shouts right in my face, while grabbing and shaking my shoulders back and forth.
"Yep, I can't do anything about the body," I tell him. Ivgan drops to his knees crying.
"Thank you, you've saved me!" Ivgan's bawling out on the grass.
"Your welcome," I responded.
"So... Where is my payment?" I say in a quieter voice, not wanting to sound too demanding.
"Oh, pay, don't worry about it," he tells me and hands me three hundred dollars, which was supposed to be given over the three nights. As I get my pay I head out, because I've still got mountains to climb.
"Thank's Ivgan!" I shout back while walking away with the cash.
"Thank you and good luck!" Ivgan yells back. I stopped at a shop on my way out of town because this one stand caught my eye. The stand was probably the sketchiest thing I'd ever seen. Posters were up all over the place about evil spirits and monsters. The table's are filled with potions and weird vegetables. I walked around the shop, looking for something that can help me on my trip if I encounter anything up the mountain. The old man running the stand emerges from the darkness in the corner.
"What do you need?" He asked me.
"Something to fight off monsters in the mountains," I tell him. I didn't really care if I sounded dumb at this point. I just needed something to use this cash on that will help me. The old man walks into the back section of the shop and emerges with a small jar filled with a dark red and orange liquid.
"What's this?" I ask the man.
The shop owner inhales, about to start a speech. "It's a vial of poison, you must throw it at your enemy. The glass is very tough and will not break, unless you twist the cap. The cap does not come off because the poison would just kill you, but when you twist the cap the glass softens just enough to break when you throw it. When the vial breaks the liquid will evaporate instantly making an orangish red cloud of death, if anything inhales this gas, their lungs will explode, killing them," he explained to me. I just gave him my money, it sounded good enough for two hundred.
"Thank you for shopping at my store and good luck when you meet the crazy Vik-," he tells me as I rush out of the stand and out of earshot. This guy's the crazy one, I thought, walking out. I still had one hundred dollars, but I found a shop that sold weapon items and I bought another holder for my club. With my new club holder and vial stored in my pocket I started my walk up the path going into the mountains.
Trek up the Mountain
After a day of travel I'm nearing the top and spot a little log cabin in the distance. When I got closer I started smelling blood from the house so I started to run to it. Wondering what could be there. When I finally approached the home I was shocked at the sight of the man I met in the woods, sitting on a rock, sharpening his axe, in front of a nice little flower garden. The crazy Viking! That's what the stand owner said! I thought. Now that I'm closer I can see that the house is in the absolute middle of the path. The front door has a cute little sign that says "Welcome to the home of Erik Ragnar," with a little drawing of the Viking who sat on the rock. This is his home! The Viking, Erik Ragnar! I thought. To the left of his cabin is a chicken coop, and an amazing garden, filled with tomatoes, green beans, and potatoes. There's more around the side of the cabin to see but I'm interrupted by the smell of iron. Erik's gotten up from his rock and is staring directly at me while I hide behind a tree.
"Why are you here?" I can feel his voice shake the trees. Why am I here, why can't I just go on my way? I thought. I hear Erik start to walk towards me with his axe at his side. I can hear each footstep, one after another. One, two, three, I count in my head for every footstep I hear. My heart is pumping blood at an insane rate. I build up the courage and step out from behind the tree only to find Erik right in my face. Only seven steps to clear about twenty feet. I have to look almost straight up at him.
"Why do you come to my home, after stealing my chickens?" He demands. I can smell the iron and a strong feeling of excitement coming from him. Before I can speak he questions me again.
"Why do you disturb my peaceful life in the mountains like the rest?" He asks.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to steal the chicken, I came to the mountains for the key, please let me go on with my hike," I told him in a heartbeat, stuttering on every word, I was terrified.
"The key?" Erik snarls, reaching for his axe. I could feel my courage to keep searching for the key leave my body. I quickly pull out my club, but before I can react, Erik throws a punch with his left hand into my chest. When Erik's massive fist met my ribs I could feel all the air exit my body, I blew out so much air I could feel my lungs start to shrivel up. I had to tighten my grip on my club so I wouldn't drop it. I flew at least six feet and crashed into the tree trunk behind me. Nothing was broken but I could still feel the blow to my chest running through my ribs to my spine and then back reverberating through my whole body. I'm slumped against the tree, waiting for Erik to close the six foot gap between us. Two steps is all it took.
"Get up," Erik tells me. I can't speak, all I'm thinking of is a counter attack and then how to escape.
"Young and old warriors like you climb this mountain all the time, disturbing my peaceful life in my log cabin," he tells me as he grabs his axe, I can see the blood flow through the veins in his arms. Like our first time meeting, he swings his axe in the direction of my head. I'm going to die! I thought. My body goes numb for a second and I slump even lower down the tree, his axe splits the trunk directly above my head. The wood starts to creak, and then Snap! I look up as the tree starts to fall onto the both of us. Erik drops his axe and catches the top half of the tree, grunting loudly when his hands meet the bark. I can feel a sense of gravity, almost pulling me up from where I sat. I take the opportunity and dash to Erik's left. As I sprint past, on my second step I unsheathe my sword while simultaneously sliding my club back into its new holder. I bring both hands to the hilt of my sword. I can feel the muscles in my arms start to strengthen, my breathing steadys, and my body is loose. I plant my front leg into the ground, and twist my core counter-clockwise in a spinning motion, swinging my sword downwards, the rest of my body follows as I put my life into the attack. My blade slashes straight through Erik's left calf, and goes all the way to the bone and out the other end. I make no noise except for a sharp breath as I steal his left achilles from him.
"Aaargh!" Erik roars in pain as he loses his grip. I continue my spin all the way around and keep sprinting down the trail, passing his home. I can hear the branches hit the ground and feel the gust of wind come from the fall of the tree. I wiped the blood off my sword on my sleeve and continued my run without looking back.
To the peak
I was far from Erik's home when I started to walk and think again. What did he mean by the rest? And what could he know of the key? I had a feeling we would meet again, so I started to prepare myself. As the sun started to go down I set up a camp and reflected on all my experiences so far. I needed to figure out what this recurring smell of blood was and what it meant. When I saw the Draugen before Grizwald was taken by the sea it wasn't there. The first time I crossed paths with Erik in the forest I could smell the blood. In my encounter with the Pesta I smelt the blood before I fell into the nightmare, and with the Mare, I could smell the anger of it's blood.
"The blood," I say, thinking out loud. What is it, I've smelt it every encounter except the Draugen. What made the Draugen different? I thought for a long time until it struck me. Every encounter with the blood my life was at stake. That's got to be it, I didn't smell it when I saw the Draugen because my life wasn't at stake. It was Grizwald who was going to die. But what about the Pesta, it was Svein who died, but no, it was only by chance that I survived. Whatever this smell of blood comes from, it means my life is at stake. And then I must be able to smell what they feel if it's strong enough. I could smell the hate from the Mare's blood. But for Erik it was confusing, when I smelt the blood from Erik I could smell nothing but pure excitement. What did he want when he saw me? Is he telling the truth about his peaceful life? Only Erik could answer these questions so I put them off to the side and slept for the night at my camp. Tomorrow I'll make it to the top.
I woke up from my sleep to the noise of wolves howling in the night. As I got up I noticed that it had started to snow while I was asleep. It must have been early in the morning because I could see light reaching over the valleys in the distance. Snowflakes danced in the air and fell softly on the ground. Looking out I could see the town where I slew the Mare and spotted a river north of it. I could see the wolves, drinking from the river in a pack of eleven. Even further I can see a giant herd of reindeer roaming the snow covered fields. They're truly amazing, I think. Looking at them, I thought of myself. How I've grown over this adventure. I breathe in the crisp morning air and get on my way to the top of the mountain.
