The Skabelse

Søvn

Bjorn had heard early on that the Queen of the Glade had died. As they passed her body, Rowan left his side to be with her Sisters as they mourned over their fallen leader. He wished he felt some remorse for his own father's death, but as he and the Rorikmen collected his body he couldn't bring himself to shed a tear. He was more concerned with his friend's deaths like Hvitserk's or Jaspir's.

Originally, the plan was to save many of the horses to carry their dead back to the High Palace for a proper burial, but more had lost their lives than expected and many horses suffered in the process as well. The journey back would take a few days and some feared the bodies might began to spoil, so instead of carting their fallen friends and loved once, it was quickly decided to dispose of their bodies by mass fire. A funeral fit for a king.

News of the High King and Queen had also spread as well, for one of Blanche's mercenaries did in fact take them from the Palace, but she had no intentions as keeping the hostage and had them gutted in a ravine not far from here and thrown into a lake.

The sun had long set and they worked under the brilliant light of the full moon and the glow of the orange flames. Each side had suffered many loses and worked through the night to honor their dead.

When Bjorn walked over to Hvitserk's body, he kneeled beside him and took his cold hand into his own. He had seen his demise as he protected a woman from the Wayland Woods who had no chance against the two men who advance towards her. He had managed to cut one of them down but the second man came up from behind and drover their spear through his back, then tossed him aside as if he weighed nothing.

Bjorn chewed the inside of his lip as he looked down upon his old friend. Hvitserk, Horan and himself had been very close growing up in Rorik even though he was two years younger. Bjorn slowly brought Hvitserk's hand up to his mouth and kissed it softly before patting him heartily on the chest. "Until we meet again, brother."

He then stood up and picked up his body bridal style and brought it over to the burning pyre. Leif had been writing down all of the Rorik's deaths and froze when he saw Hvitserk in Bjorn's arms.

His face fell and his eyes watered as he walked over to meet him.

"It cannot be..." he said, trailing off as he looked at his face in Bjorn's arms. "I wondered where he had been considering I had not seen him yet, and now I know that the worst thoughts of mine have come true. His father will be heartbroken when we return to Rorik."

Bjorn remained silent and clenched his jaw to keep his composure and instead focused on the burning of his muscles as they grew tired.

Leif bent down and kissed Hvitserk's blood splattered forehead and walked away, scribbling his name down on his ledger.

The prince walked over to the pyre and gently sat his body onto the ground. Garreth and Igor were in charge of depositing those that were lost and would soon pick of his body and dispose of it properly. "Søvn," he whispered, saying goodbye in an old language his Falkstan had taught him.

The night dragged on as everyone said their goodbyes and had quick memorial services. They saved the royalty for last which consisted of Queen Lana, King Olfriq, and Ash King of Loria. The opposing side had faced many deaths as well and only suffered one loss of royalty, which was a man by the name of Markart of Moria. After they had burned him, they joined the others to pay respects to their leaders.

Bjorn stood up front with Rowan and Ash's brother, Cinder, as they watched their loved ones be cremated. Bjorn wrapped an arm around Rowan and rubbed her arm up and down as she rested her head against his shoulder.

"It doesn't feel real," she whispered. She and her mother did not have the typical mother-daughter relationship as many of the Gladeswomen had shared with one another. It was more formal than anything, but she was her mother after all.

She blamed the hollow feeling on shock, anger and disbelief that it was over.

"I'm really sorry about your mother love. She was an extraordinary queen and a great warrior. It was an honor to have met her," Bjorn said in hopes to console her. He rubbed her arm once more and followed her gaze into the night sky.

Thousands of stars glimmered above them, making him feel insignificant compared to the vastness above him. He learned long ago in his schooling that humans had once ventured into the black abyss and even walked on the moon which was full and shining brightly upon his face. Such feats seemed impossible but his teacher swore it to be true.

"You know," Rowan said softly, "in the Glade, we used to honor the full moon every month and have extravagant festivals. We believed that it was the object to which we were granted our skills in combat and fair hair. Such festivities and tales seem ludicrous to me now. I remember the night I was told that the Glade had been selected for the Skabelse and how I pouted on my bedrooms balcony watching my Sisters celebrate. Seems over a lifetime ago...so much has changed."

Bjorn would have smiled at the image of Rowan pouting like a child for being sent to the Skabelse, but considering the evening's happenings, smiling seemed almost sinful.

"I know what you mean," he replied gently. The two remained silent for a long time as they watched the large pyre die down. Many had left to give them privacy and had pitched tents in hopes to get a few hours of sleep or gone to the nearest body of water to bathe. "What are we to do next?" he asked, breaking the silence.

Rowan sighed and rubbed her tired eyes. Her body ached from straining herself and she wished to go to bed and welcome the new day, hoping that she would feel somewhat better in the morning. "I do not know. Perhaps call a meeting in the morning?" she suggested.

Bjorn shrugged and turned so he could face her. Her light hair almost glowed in the moonlight and the rumors that the Gladeswoman obtained power from it didn't seem so silly at the moment. "I think we should invite everyone back to the High Palace. Like it or not the war did indeed change our world. We are without High Royals and need to meet to elect new ones among other things."

The Gladeswoman nodded, "Aye."

She then sat down, crossing her legs beneath her and began to search the sky one more.
"Are you not coming to bed?" Bjorn asked. His body was drained from the battle and he wanted nothing more to pitch a tent and sleep.

"No, I think I'm going to stay up a bit longer. My body is exhausted but my mind has never been more awake," she responded, yawning.

A ghost of a smile slipped onto Bjorn's lips and he sat down next to her. He didn't feel comfortable leaving her out here alone in the cover of night regardless if she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

Taking her hand, he interlaced his fingers with hers and together they watch the full moon slowly rise.

Honestly not too happy with this chapter, it feels blah to me. I might rewrite it later on, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!