Warmagic

“I need you to leave,” he said with a demanding voice and I forced myself not to look at him.

The ice cold and salty water washed over my toes, feet and ankles only to withdraw and come back to do it all over again. It was the rhythm of nature, of life.

I gazed at the horizon where the sky met the sea and wondered if the Gods watched me from there. The sky was grey and dark, perhaps a reflection of their mood. It made me realise it had been a while since we showed our gratitude towards them, maybe it was time for an offering to please them.

Our shore was rough and raw, just like the people living here. It was covered in layers upon layers of grey toned gravel and sharp stones, piercing the bare souls of my feet as I walked along the foaming waterline. It was the end of summer but the chilly northern winds made it feel like winter had come already.

My home was beautiful and untamed, though the fjord was unusually calm this year, all because of the unusually warm summer and lack of rain. An uneasy feeling spread through me as I wondered if we had ourselves to blame for it. How could I have missed the signs of the displeased Gods? I needed to speak to our priestess about it, I thought, and suppressed the weight of responsibility that kept pushing me down, deepening my footprints.

This day, the air was crisp and it foretold the upcoming cold that would soon be upon us. Winters were harsh here, but we had lived off this land for generations and we knew it well, hence we were prepared for whatever amount of snow, ice and cold they were going to throw at us.

“Did you hear me son?” My father’s voice vibrated through the silence, drowning out the gentle sound of the waves touching stone.

“I heard you, father.” I answered him too hesitantly for his liking, I knew, but I was still searching for a good reply to his question, and even if a good amount of time had passed, I could not seem to find one within me. “We are simple farmen*, that does not simply change because uncle Brokk arrived,” I finally announced.

The older man nodded as he eyed me over. He was a good Jarl, my father, strong and wise, but most importantly, he was fair. On the contrary to his younger brother Brokk whose only goal in life was to gain riches and fame, as if we were in some sort of competition against the other clans.

“That is true, Tyr.” My father said with an all knowing smile on his lips. “But you are my son and I want you to keep your eye on him, and maybe gain some new experiences.”

“You want me to go Viking?” I sighed and wrinkled my forehead to show my concern. It was not the thought of battle that bothered me, I knew how to wield my sword and I had several times before, and like many I thought it to be a great honour to die in battle and be chosen by the Valkyrie to feast in Valhalla. But there was much to do in our village in springtime, and my father would need all the able men to plough and tend to the crops.

We lived close to rival clans, who we sometimes fought and we had our fair share of plundering Jótar who had tried to steal our food and livestock. So why did I not celebrate this opportunity that my father had laid out for me? The answer was simple, I knew my uncle. He was the worst kind of a plunderer. He lacked honour and did not respect the will of the Gods.

“Yes.” He stated calmly as we continued to walk along the shore. “I have spoken to the Oracle about it. The Norn’s told her that it is part of your destiny.”

“Is that so?” I sniggered bitterly and rested my hands by the buckle of my belt. “I can’t help to feel that I’d rather forge my own, than follow the weave of three old hags.”

My father chuckled at this. “You may sidestep onto your own path son, we all do, but you will always come back to their destined weave. It is how it is.” He said and patted my back.

I was as tall as him now, and almost as strong. The sides of my head were shaved and I wore tattoos like most of the warriors, and a long wheat colored braid fell down the centre of my back and reached all the way down to my belt, mimicking the way he’d kept his hair at my age.

Now he wore a clean shaved head and a long braided beard instead. Ihad still a few years to go before my own would be as long as his, and I couldn’t wait for it to grow.

“Is this what you really want for me father?” I asked him from my heart. I was his only son and we had grown close since I stepped over the threshold and walked into manhood. “It is the will of the Gods, Tyr. Who are we to question them?” He said and winked at me, but I knew I had no reason to object, he had said his final word. I was going to leave with Brokk as soon as the ice melted in early spring.

“I want Freke to join me.” I called out to him before he decided to leave me to my own thoughts and go back to our village and his obligations.

“We all knew you would.” My father turned to nod at me. “You may ask them yourself, but I already predict their answer.” Like my father, I knew it too. Me and Freke were inseparable. Wherever I went, they went as well. “And speak to your mother, Tyr, she wants an answer. Weddings need to be planned, and it should take place before you leave.”

I sighed at his words. I had no desire to marry any of the young ladies in our village, nor any in the neighbouring ones. My father knew it, my mother knew it, all the pissing goats of Northanland probably knew it too. It wasn’t like me and Freke hid our emotions towards each other, and no one really cared. Perhaps my future wife would, but that was a problem I wouldn’t dwell on at this time.

Truth be told, I did not want to be Halvar’s successor, and he knew this too. That was probably why he wanted me to sail with his brother - to see the world and get new perspectives in life. Maybe it was a good thing?

I sighed to myself and walked towards the dying grass of the early autumn season and let my feet dry in it. It was too cold to walk barefoot, but Freke had always insisted I should connect with nature when I needed guidance. The wolf had too much influence on me I thought to myself and chuckled before I put on my footwear to go and see them. I had news to tell them and besides that I needed their advice yet again.

As I walked, nature changed around me. The sound of the waves vanished and was replaced with birdsong and the rustling sounds of leaves. They had yet to fall to the ground, but it was only a matter of time before they all turned into orange, yellow and deep red. I had always enjoyed the colour change of the seasons, and autumn was the most beautiful one of them all. That and the mushrooms, nuts and berries were a true delight.

My feet followed the trail I had walked so many times before. Freke’s hut was built in the outskirts of the village, like they had wanted. In my thoughtful state of mind I decided to walk the long road, instead of walking through the crowded areas. I did not feel like meeting the eyes and expectations of my neighbours and friends, I needed to stay focused.

It didn’t take long for me to arrive, and I walked straight into the room without a single knock on the door. Once my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, I found them sorting herbs by their one table.

I walked towards the bed and fell down on it with a deep sigh. “I have news.”

The shorthaired Vitki turned slowly and I was drawn into their intense orange eyes framed with black coal, as soon as they met mine. “Bad news I guess?” They asked and took a few steps forward to stand close to their bed and look down at me.

I shrugged, not really knowing if it was good or bad, and that was what I told them. “I don’t know Freke, but apparently it is the words of the Gods, so I have nothing to say in the matter.”

“Are we talking about your marriage again?” They asked and tilted their head. “Because we have already discussed it, Tyr, it won’t change how I feel about you and it won’t change our relationship. It is only a matter of conceiving children for your clan.”

I eyed the person standing over me. They were my opposite, dark and slender, not a warrior like me, but still three times stronger than most men. Why, you would ask. Well, Freke was born into a clan of wolves, Hróðvitnir we call them. Magical godlike beings who could both walk on feet and paws.

It was common practice for them to study magic and dedicate their lives to it, like Freke did, but some chose the warrior’s path or simpler lives.

But then there were humans who believed the Hróðvitnir to be the offspring of Fenrir, a horrendous monster which was also a wolf, though vicious enough that the gods themselves fought it. But since Fenrir was the son of Loki, there were humans who believed all wolf shifters to be halfgods and they even worshipped them.

Freke laughed at them all. They wanted a simple life and had pledged themselves to my father and to help our clan in any way possible. As an experienced healer and foreseer, Freke had given me a lot of good advice over the years, even though most of us spoke to the oracle.

“No, we are not talking about my marriage.” I muttered and sat up to lean my heavy body against my knees. “The news is about Brokk, and my father’s will for me to join him on his next raid.” I rubbed my forehead as I hung my head low. “I don’t mind leaving, I’ve always wanted to see new lands.”

“You hate him.” Freke snickered before they crunched down to remove my hands from my face and leaned in for a kiss.

“I do,” I chuckled as their lips left mine, “and if I join him, I’ll have to follow his orders.”

“It might be worth it,” the dark haired beauty said with a wink of their eye before they rose tall and walked back to the table to continue their work.

“I told father you’re coming too,” I said with a mischievous grin.

“Well, of course,” the wolf said calmly, “I wouldn’t have expected anything else. Someone needs to keep an eye on you.”

I rolled my eyes and fell back down on the mattress. “I love you too.” I muttered, but I only got a low chuckle in response.

…