Storms and heroes were created together, because heroes chase and fight storms, and storms chase and fight heroes. Every single side was made for the conflicting component. Balance. It was for the sake of a storm that his story began.
The legend began in eight hundred and a score, in the Nord, often moving towards the Vest, an endless void of exploration and pillage and conquering.
Our hero was the score, born without a true name, in the winter of eight hundred. When he reached score, however, he had taken the name of his father, by little choice. In his life, Abjorn the First was nothing more than an affront to his community. As his near-nameless child, his first-born, was still in the first year of his life, the gods granted a common wish of the people. Thor struck the hovel of Abjorn the First, which was on the outskirts, burning the life from both him and his wife, Wife of Abjorn the First. It is said, that without doubts, neither of the two made the journey to Valhalla, yet certainly found success in the journey to Helheim. The gods granted a secret second wish, and saved Abjorn the Later, who was being nursed by a neighbor that night.
As Abjorn the Later grew, he had inherited the dishonor of his father, yet by the sign of his savior, the community would not dare disobey the gods by throwing him out to the ulver. Unlike his heritage, he grew to be honest and faithful. And strong. Although he could not compare with the other young men, yet he was able to complete his tasks diligently. He had strength of flesh from excess labor, but his true strength was mostly in his heart and mind. Despite this, dishonor from his ghosts lingered in his eye-sight at all times, in the trees, in the stars, in his dreams. The purpose of his life was to earn honor for himself, to make up for where his father let down. Else, he would never taste Valhalla. But at long last, he grew to be a score to the eight hundred, and his chance at glory grew in like swiftness. He had high hopes for finding fearsome storms for himself.
YOU ARE READING
Arjeormas Black'd Bone
Historical FictionI wrote this story, and although it is original, I attempted to write it as though it were a translated Norwegian legend. A young man seeks respect in 9th century Scandinavia. Enjoy!
