Forgotten brothers

Chapter 3

As Hati wandered ahead, his sharp eyes caught a grim sight in the distance: a man impaled on a long spear, his body sagging lifelessly against the weapon. Yet as Hati moved closer, he noticed faint, shuddering breaths escaping the man's lips.

"Still alive," Hati muttered, intrigued, before turning back toward his brother. "Skoll! You need to see this!"

Skoll hurried over, his expression twisting into concern when he saw the impaled man. Without hesitation, he reached out, gently but firmly lowering the man from the spike. The man groaned weakly, blood staining Skoll's hands and armor as he carefully laid him on the ground. The wounds were grievous, far beyond healing.

The man's half-lidded eyes fluttered open, and as he gazed at Skoll's pale face, something sparked in his gaze—a mixture of awe and confusion. His voice, though faint, trembled with reverence.

"Michael... is that you? The Lord has come for me. It is my time..."

These words were his last. His body went still, the light in his eyes fading as death claimed him.

Skoll closed his eyes, his hands shaking slightly as he gently rested the man's body on the ground, folding his hands over his chest.

Hati, standing behind him, broke the silence. "What was that? What lord was he talking about?"

Skoll stood and turned toward his brother, his expression heavy with thought. "I don't know," he admitted. "But it's been a long time since we were last in Midgard. Maybe things have changed."

Hati snorted softly, unconvinced, and moved ahead. His attention was drawn to something small and dark lying among the rubble: a crow, its lifeless body sprawled on the ground. Kneeling, Hati picked up the bird delicately, cradling it in his hands.

"Poor thing," he murmured. Then, in a low, unfamiliar tongue, he began to chant words that seemed to hum with an otherworldly resonance.

Skoll, catching up, paused mid-step as Hati's red eyes began to glow faintly. Before he could say anything, the crow's body jerked, its wings fluttering weakly as its eyes snapped open.

The bird let out a startled squawk, struggling in Hati's hands. "Help! Help!" it cawed, its voice shrill and panicked.

Hati tightened his grip slightly to steady it, his tone soft but firm. "Calm down, little one. You're safe now."

The crow stilled, its dark eyes darting up at Hati with a mix of fear and confusion. Slowly, Hati lowered it to the ground and released it. The bird ruffled its feathers, clearly unsettled, but didn't immediately fly away.

"What... what are you?" the crow finally asked, its voice surprisingly articulate.

Hati crouched beside the bird, his expression curious. "Who are you? And do you know what happened here?"

The crow hopped a step back, shaking its head. "Name's Leaf. All I remember is I was stealing walnuts, and then—boom! There was this huge explosion, fire everywhere... and then, nothing. Just darkness."

Hati frowned, glancing at the wreckage around them. "Sounds like a battle. Maybe a conflict between two nations."

Skoll joined them, his eyes narrowing at the crow before settling on his brother. "Did you really just use magic to bring back one crow?"

Hati turned to him, his tone sharp with retort. "And you're one to talk. You didn't even heal that man—you just let him die."

Skoll's expression hardened. "I couldn't heal him, Hati. His wounds were too deep. And even if I could, we shouldn't meddle in human affairs. If the gods find out we're here, they'll come for us."

Hati sighed, standing up. "You're right," he admitted begrudgingly. "But I'm keeping the crow. He might be useful."

"Useful?" Leaf squawked indignantly, puffing out his chest. "I am not some tool! I'm my own person, with rights!"

Hati smirked, kneeling back down to the crow's level. "Fair enough. Where are you going, then?"

Leaf glanced left, then right, his feathers drooping slightly. "Well... you've got a point. So, who are you two?"

Hati grinned, standing up straight. "I'm Hati Fenrirson, and this is my brother, Skoll."

Leaf's head tilted quizzically. "Fenrirson? That sounds... ominous. You two don't seem like ordinary travelers."

Hati chuckled, his red eyes gleaming. "Oh, we're not. Stick with us, and you'll find out just how extraordinary we can be."

As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting the forest in shades of gold and amber, Skoll and Hati found a quiet spot to camp near a gently flowing river. The water sparkled under the fading light, a peaceful contrast to the chaos they had witnessed earlier that day.

Skoll busied himself preparing their camp. He cleared a patch of ground, gathered soft moss and leaves to create makeshift bedding, and arranged stones in a circle to build a fire pit. By the time Hati returned with two freshly caught rabbits slung over his shoulder, Skoll had already coaxed a steady flame to life.

"Perfect timing," Skoll said with a warm smile, gesturing for Hati to sit as he skewered the rabbits over the fire.

Hati dropped down onto a log and stretched his legs out, watching as the flames licked at their dinner. The rich aroma of roasting meat filled the air, and the crackle of the fire blended with the gentle murmur of the river nearby.

As they ate, Skoll's face lit up with excitement. "You know," he began, his voice brimming with enthusiasm, "we'll finally have the chance to settle down. To really start over. Imagine finding the perfect place to live—a quiet village, maybe, or a secluded valley where we can build a home."

Hati, tearing into his rabbit, said nothing. He kept his gaze on the fire, listening as Skoll continued.

"We could plant a garden, raise animals... You could even have a place to train, Hati, and I could finally work on my magic in peace. And who knows? Maybe we could even help rebuild some of these ruined places. Make a real difference here."

Skoll's words were filled with hope, painting a picture of a future so starkly different from their past that it felt like a dream. Hati, though, remained silent.

His brother's optimism stirred memories long buried in the back of his mind. As Skoll spoke, Hati's thoughts drifted to their childhood in Vanaheim. He remembered how Skoll would often suggest peaceful solutions to problems—negotiation instead of fighting, agreements instead of violence. Skoll had always believed they could find another way, even when others doubted him.

But Vali and Vidar were always there, harsh and unrelenting. They reminded Skoll—and Hati—of who they were. Of the blood that ran through their veins. The sons of Fenrir. They had no place among gods or men, no matter how hard they tried. And though Hati had wanted to believe otherwise, he had stayed quiet. Speaking up might have disappointed Freya, and the last thing he wanted was to lose her favor.

Now, sitting across from his brother in the glow of the firelight, Hati felt a pang of regret. He should have stood by Skoll back then. Instead, he'd been the obedient soldier, the dutiful protector. He'd played his role perfectly, while Skoll bore the weight of their shared burden alone.

Hati's grip tightened on the bone of the rabbit in his hand. He glanced up at his brother, who was still animatedly describing their imagined future.

"Skoll," Hati interrupted softly, his voice low but steady.

Skoll paused, blinking at his brother in surprise. "Yeah?"

Hati hesitated, then shook his head. "Never mind. Keep talking."

For now, he would listen. But in his heart, Hati resolved to be different. This time, in this new life, he wouldn't let Skoll carry the weight alone. He'd find a way to stand by his brother—not as the good little soldier, but as the brother Skoll deserved.