Aega

As I walk up the wooden stairs to my grandparent’s cottage, the thought of being alone is the only thing I never want in my life. Being left by my childhood friend turned boyfriend a few weeks ago, and then death. Losing my family so soon is never in my thoughts—or at least I don’t think it will be.

My grandparents live in Undredal, in Sogn og Fjordanethe—the smallest village in Norway, with 100 inhabitants. Well, now 101. Mountains and forests surround the town. They come from a long line of Viking royals and are respected people in their community. My mom chooses to live a simpler life and leaves with my dad when she falls pregnant with my sister, Iris. We never grow up in the elegant lifestyle that is our destiny. We are of Viking descent, and that is all we are allowed to know.

“My sweet girl! You finally made it! How was your flight? Have you eaten? You are so skinny!”

My grandmother wraps her arms around me. My mother is the splitting image of my grandmother: a small, slender body, busty, with long blonde hair all the way down to her waist, piercing blue eyes that almost look white but hold love, and soft peach-colored skin. She embraces me and whispers with a sad voice.

“I am so sorry for your loss and that you had to go through this whole ordeal by yourself, you poor thing. Let’s get you out of this wretched cold.”

I greet her with a nod as tears threaten to spill over the rims of my eyes. The lump in my throat is the size of a boulder, and the hole in my chest burns at its edges. I don’t want to speak, fearing I might break down. Up to this point, I feel emotionless, like the dead. My feelings are suppressed. Somehow, seeing the splitting image of my mom is a little too much to bear. Her eyes sparkle with tears as she puts her hand over my heart.

“You don’t need to say anything, love. Your parents and sister will always be in here with you, and no one can ever take that away from you. Just know that.”

With a wink and a look of pity, she turns around, pushes down the heavy golden handle of the front door, and walks in.

“Where’s Grandpa?” I ask, changing the subject as we enter the cabin. God knows I hate it when people pity me. It makes me feel weak. Crying is a weakness.

“He went out to the village you passed on your way in for some supplies we are short on for this evening. He won’t be gone long; I am sure he is just as excited to see you. Come, let me show you to your room and get you settled. We have a long night ahead of us.”

Making my way through the huge hall to the wooden carved steps, I can’t keep my eyes off the glittering chandeliers and the flames dancing on the candles. It’s like everything sparkles. The warmth of the cabin is soothing, like home. The entire top floor is my living quarters, where my mom stayed until she met my dad. The bedroom looks fit for royalty. It has huge windows all around and soft, slightly see-through silver-grey curtains tied back neatly with rose gold ribbons. The French doors have golden crafted handles and old Viking carvings all around. They lead out onto a wooden balcony with glass balustrades. There is a small seating area with a comfy lounge and a small fire pit in the middle.

The fireplace has white and gold trim and carvings. It’s already lit, and heat fills the room. The bed is a huge Louis XV-style feather bed, with a white headboard and Viking carvings all around. The bedding is white, grey, and rose gold. Folded at the feet are white fur blankets for cold nights.

There’s a soft white fur rug in front of the fireplace with two inviting double-seat couches. I suddenly feel drained. This week has taken its toll, and my body is succumbing to exhaustion. My grandma pushes on the wall, revealing a huge walk-in closet stocked with evening gowns, ponchos, and winter jackets. My tiny suitcase with the little I have packed fits easily into a drawer.

The bathroom is huge and bright. White and gold are everywhere. A huge oval see-through tub with jets all around, small cabinets with a massive mirror and a glass basin, and rolled white towels with golden trimming. The shower is entirely glass, with golden taps and jets. My mouth hangs open at the sheer amount of body washes, night creams, and more in the stocked cabinets. This is Mom’s old room. It’s her style, and a slight smell of her lingers, making my throat close up.

“Would you be okay to finish up and unpack by yourself? I need to check on Elijah in the kitchen. We are expecting a lot of guests to show their respects, so when you are done and dressed, I’ll be waiting for you in the dining hall.”

My eyes widen. I am definitely in no shape to receive guests.

“Don’t worry, dear. Nothing fancy. When you are ready, come down. No pressure.” I nod.

As she walks to the door, she turns around and looks at me.

“This is your home now, Aega. Please feel free to come and go as you please, and if you need anything, Sebastian, our driver, will help you.” I nod again. With a small smile and a wink, she closes the door.

With the sound of her footsteps disappearing down the stairs, silence takes over. I walk up to the windows, staring at the woods. As a child, my sister and I spend all our days in the woods.

Running, playing hide and seek, or just enjoying the wind rustling through the leaves while we lie on our backs contemplating life, discussing boyfriends, or simply enjoying nature. Memories flood back, causing a chill to run over my arms. I hug myself and let out a slow sigh.

Silence and an all-too-familiar feeling wash over me... Loneliness.