~Treasure~
"Hey, Victor, come and see this!"
The voice that dragged me from the fog of unconsciousness was entirely unfamiliar. It is deep, raspy, and grating. My semi pointed ears twitch, itching at the harshness of the sound. Slowly, my remaining senses fought their way to the surface. The sedatives my captors had forced into my veins were wearing off rapidly, burned away by the blood in my core. I inhaled deeply, drawing the stagnant air of my cage into my lungs.
The scent profile of the room had changed entirely. The familiar stench of my captors was now violently underscored by the copper tang of fresh blood and the arrival of numerous outsiders.
Something chaotic was unfolding beyond my prison walls, though it matters little to me. I lazily rubbed my eyes with raw, blistered fingers, vaguely wondering why the guards hadn't administered another dose of the sleeping draft. They were getting careless.
"What is it, Nevius?" a second voice echoed loudly through the structure. This man's tone was profoundly deeper than the one pounding on my ceiling, carrying a weight that vibrated right through the floorboards.
"There seems to be a hidden chamber down here." A heavy hand slammed violently against the wooden hatch of my subterranean holding cell. "This must be where that dead fool hid his true plunder."
Instantly, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. I focused my hearing, tuning past the immediate room to catch the muffled chorus of screams, jeers, and the unmistakable clash of steel ringing out across the outpost. The resident raiders were being slaughtered. A dark, ironical chuckle bubbled in my throat. My tormentors were being overthrown by a fiercer apex predator.
Taking full advantage of the cacophony of war outside, I wrapped my hands around the heavy iron chains pinning me to the stone wall. Timing my movements flawlessly with the rhythmic, arrogant blows of the man beating on the hatch above, I threw my weight forward and yanked. The sound of the invader's frantic pounding completely swallowed the shattering crunch of the masonry as the anchor bolts tore free. I froze, holding my breath as a few more vibrations shook the wood above me. I drew another deep, calculating breath through my nose.
The pungent, iron stench leaking through the floorboards confirmed that the blood being spilled belonged mostly to my captors. The air seeping through the cracks was thick with the essence of felled human warriors. A savage satisfaction washed over me, I wouldn't have to worry about repercussions or tracking parties once I made my break. These invaders, whoever they were, had inadvertently cleared my path.
I gripped my twin daggers firmly. I had already resolved to make my move today, but this siege was a gift from the Goddess. Jerking the loose ends of my chains, I ensured they wouldn't snag on the wreckage. I dropped into a low, coiled crouch, my thighs tensing like iron springs, my joints popping in anticipation of the incoming light. My long, matted silver hair fell over my narrow, starved frame. Every nerve was raw, screaming for blood as my fangs naturally sharpened against my lips.
I had spent months hoarding every scrap of energy for this exact moment. No longer would I be caged like a common beast, forced to spill blood in the dirt for the amusement of lesser creatures.
"Your fists aren't going to budge that reinforced ironwork, Nevius. Move aside." The deep voiced leader commanded calmly.
The sound of shuffling leather drifted into my ears, followed by the terrifying swoosh of a massive boot shattering the structural timber. The entire hatchframe gave way and I wasted not a fraction of a second. As the shattered wood cascaded downward, I sprang forward, leaping directly onto the falling flank of the timber. Using it as a springboard, I launched myself upward. Catching a high structural beam and sailing clean over the heads of a dozen large, burly warriors entirely unnoticed. Except for one.
The giant who had shattered the wood stood easily seven feet tall, and as I flew overhead, I felt the unmistakable weight of his gaze tracking my motion. His eyes were a striking, piercing blue and he alone possessed the instincts to register my blur of motion. I let out a mocking chuckle, diving toward the sunlit exit without delay.
I landed nimbly on the threshold of the building, my bare feet gripping the stained dirt. I cast one final, sideways glance at the broken bodies of my captors littering the courtyard. Gathering my saliva, I spat directly onto the nearest corpse before sprinting full tilt toward the waiting embrace of the forest.
It took several bounds for my eyes to adjust to the blinding glare of the open sky. It had been an eternity since I had felt the sun, but the rush of untamed air rushing past my face was absolute ecstasy.
A few fleeing raiders from the village tried to block my path, but my daggers cut through their throats with fluid, practiced ease. I left them to drown in their own blood and plunged deeper into the ancient wilderness. The sensation of damp soil and crushed pine needles beneath my feet made me smile. Fragmented memories of running through the snow laden hunting grounds of my youth flickered briefly across my mind, bringing a low rumble of amusement to my chest.
Before long, my sharp ears picked up the distinct, disciplined sounds of the invading Vikings scouting the woods. They were combing the brush, hunting down any stragglers who had fled the initial purge. These Northmen were clearly obsessed with plundering every scrap of value this village possessed.
Anticipating their movements, I slid down into a muddy riverbank I had been aiming for. These natural erosion trenches always provided exceptional concealment. Thick tree roots hung over the bank like a gnarled canopy, creating perfect, shadowed hollows beneath the earth.
I pressed my back into the cold mud, masking my heat signature while listening to their harsh shouts draw closer. Then, the distinct, frantic baying of hunting hounds echoed in the distance. My breath hitched.
*They will catch my scent profile... but will their instinctual fear of a true predator keep them at bay?*
Minutes ticked by like hours. Slowly, the frantic barking faded into the western valley, confirming my hopes. Yet, my senses remained entirely on edge. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Someone was close. Very close. I sniffed the air with microscopic precision. It was incredibly faint, but the unmistakable odor of fresh blood was drifting down from the ridge directly above me and beneath it, a secondary scent that felt strangely... inviting.
Tightening my white knuckled grip on the hilts of my daggers, I steeled my resolve. I kicked off the muddy bank, landing silently in the center of the rushing stream.
Ignoring the biting chill of the mountain water against my bare feet, I dropped into a deadly, coiled fighting stance. I held my blades extended, perfectly balanced, ready to dismantle whatever warrior dropped from the ridge.
Yet, as I stared up at the figure looming over the bank, my predatory focus softened with a rare touch of restraint. These invaders had indirectly shattered my chains. They had given me my cover, and they had executed my vengeance for me. I harbored no desire to slaughter this man like the wretched peddlers who had caged me. I had spilled too much blood in the fighting pits to judge these Vikings for practicing the same lethal trade.
I glanced briefly at the shackles still welded around my wrists. Fresh blood dripped down my forearms where the metal had gouged my flesh during the escape. The broken chains hung loosely, catching the dappled sunlight. My gaze hardened again as I locked eyes with the giant standing on the ridge.
He was hunched slightly, clad in thick, heavy leather armor reinforced with intricate metal bands and woven steel strands. His beard was a dark grey, shot through with distinct streaks of silver, and bold tribal tattoos wrapped around the sides of his shaven skull. The blonde hair he did possess was braided tightly along the crown of his head, pulled back into a meticulously woven black wrap. His expression was entirely unreadable, but his striking, ice blue eyes burned with a profound, unyielding curiosity.
Slowly, deliberately, the giant straightened to his full height and leapt down into the riverbed. His sheer physical scale startled me. I had never seen a mortal man cast such a shadow. He stood easily two feet taller than my starved, humanself.
I took a cautious half step back as he rested his calloused hands on his hips, shifting his heavy fur cloak aside to reveal the hilts of two massive swords. I knew the fight that was coming. I braced my thighs for his assault.
His explosive speed was breathtaking but so was mine. No matter how massive the predator, a heavy build can always be outmaneuvered. I slipped beneath his guard, stepping tightly into his personal space as he swung. My silver hair lashed across my eyes as I zeroed in on his exposed left shoulder. His heavy blades crossed harmlessly behind my back, the exact opening I had engineered. I sprang upward, driving my right dagger in a vicious arc toward his shoulder.
The giant reacted with preternatural reflexes, throwing his head back and throwing his body away from the lethal point. I landed cleanly on the gravel, straightening my spine. Did I miss?
My eyes darted to his hand, which was currently pressing against a shallow, clean slice across his neck. I looked down at the dark blood glistening on the tip of my blade, and a sudden wave of profound shame washed over me. I hadn't intended to go for a mortal kill. I had merely wanted to incapacitate him. Curse my fighting instincts. My body moves before my mind can direct it at times.
"Well now... I certainly wasn't expecting that." The giant murmured, his deep voice sliding through the ravine. He pulled his hand away, inspecting the blood on his fingers. "You didn't possess a single shred of killing intent in those vivid blue eyes of yours, little one. How remarkably dangerous you are... and that silver hair only adds to your peculiar charm."
The realization hit me instantly. I recognized that authoritative, resonant voice. This was the leader from the hidden room, the sovereign they called Victor Kushin.
"You are the one who executed the pit master and shattered my cage." I muttered aloud, an internal groan tightening my chest. *To think I nearly slit the throat of the one who literally broke my walls.*
I shook my head in bitter disappointment. The human raiders I had known would always turn on those who offered them aid. I refused to emulate my captors, yet I refuse to be weak like the prey they hunted. Balancing the scale of honor is a frustratingly complex endeavor.
I bit the iron hilt of my left dagger, clamping it in the corner of my jaw so I could use my fingers to frantically scratch at the heavy collar welded around my throat. These wretched shackles were forged from a foul, unnatural metal that suppressed my dual nature. Keeping me trapped in this weak, hairless human skin. I hated it with every fiber of my being. I tugged and pried at the locking mechanism, but my torn nails found no purchase.
The Viking king simply stood in the rushing water, watching my frantic movements in absolute silence. He traced the shallow cut on his throat with an expression bordering on complete fascination. The heavy, metallic clanking of my wrist chains finally drew his focus back to my face. I eyed him warily, my fingers still probing the seam of the collar. I could handle his scouting parties later, but this giant was an immediate riddle.
"If you allow it," Victor said, pointing a thick finger toward my throat, "I will remove that from your neck."
"Why do you still linger here?" I countered, rolling my eyes as I gestured to my emaciated, scarred body, which was barely concealed by a tattered, blood stained tunic. "I am nothing but a meek, broken child. I possess no value to a warrior. Surely there are grander riches and healthier stock to plunder back in that village. Why waste your breath on a scrawny skeleton like me?"
I took two steps backward through the current, silently praying the giant would simply lose interest and let me melt into the trees.
"I highly doubt anything about you is 'meek,' young one." Kushin replied, leaning his massive shoulder against the riverbank and crossing his arms. His deep blue eyes tracked my every movement with immense entertainment. "Tell me, how did a...child.. with your unique features come to be locked in away?"
I stopped clawing at the collar, pulling the dagger from my jaws and gripping it tightly at my side. I analyzed his relaxed posture with profound confusion. He shows no fear, no greed, only a boundless curiosity.
"I will answer your questions," I stated firmly, raising an eyebrow, "on the condition that you allow me to walk into those woods unhindered once we are done."
He didn't offer a verbal vow, he simply waited in heavy, expectant silence. In the far distance, the shouts of his war bands were growing distant. It seems they are abandoning the perimeter hunt and returning to the shore. My time was running short.
"I am a child of war." I said, offering him a calculated half truth.
"Remarkable..." Victor murmured, his eyes sweeping over my frame, cataloging the points of my ears and the unnatural silver of my hair. "Was that seaside village your birthplace?"
I let out a sharp, mocking snort, staring at him as though he had lost his mind. "What manner of foolish question is that? No. The raiders who slaughtered my kin sold me at the port winters ago."
"So you were raised in the blood of the arena. How many winters have you seen?"
"At least twenty... I think." I looked down at the rushing water, privately admitting I had lost track of the seasons inside that dark hole.
"And how long have those bands confined you?"
"Why does a Viking care?" I snapped, my patience evaporating as the scent of freedom wafted from the deep forest.
"You interest me." Victor stated plainly. "Now speak. You gave your word to answer, unless you are merely a mindless beast that has slipped its cage."
"I do not know the exact number of years." I growled, taking another retreating step toward the far bank. "But it has been long enough for the iron to scar my skin."
"Why?"
"Why what, Northman?"
"Why did they sell you instead of killing you? Why hide you in a reinforced subterranean vault? Why forge such specific restraints for a single, starved girl?"
"Ha! That is simple enough." I barked, a savage pride piercing through my irritation. "The peddlers couldn't master me. I slaughtered every champion they brought across the sea, so the master locked me away between the grand matches. Every time they opened the hatch, I tore a piece out of them. They shackled me because they lacked the strength to break me. I was their prize exhibition, the monster that filled their coffers with gold." I spat into the stream with absolute disgust. "There was no honor in those pits. Only butchery."
"Then how did you secure those blades?" Victor asked, nodding toward my twin daggers.
"Months of meticulous planning." I muttered, a wave of annoyance washing over me as I realized my grand escape script had been rendered entirely redundant. "I was prepared to cut their throats and burn the outpost to the ground tonight anyway. It seems the Goddess desired a laugh today, so she dispatched your fleet to do my packing for me."
"What is your name, warrior?"
"My... name?" The question caught in my throat. A cold shock of realization hit me. I had no name. I had never been given one, and I had long since blocked out the vile names the guards shouted into my cage.
"Oh, so this is where you wandered off to, Brother! The men are already roasting the cattle for the victory feast!"
The raspy voice from the outpost shattered the silence. I watched as the lean, sharp faced warrior named Nevius slid down the riverbank, stopping short as his eyes locked onto my position.
"I see you have tracked me, Nevius." Victor said smoothly, turning his head slightly as his companion approached.
"What manner of stray have you cornered out here?" Nevius asked, sitting casually on a boulder, his eyes narrowing as he evaluated my tattered appearance.
"The wild creature that gave our entire vanguard the slip at the hatchway." Victor replied, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "I was just about to secure his name."
"Ouch. I am well aware my body is starved and broken," I hissed, my voice cracking with a sudden surge of lethal fury, "but I am most assuredly not a male."
Victor blinked, then let out a rich, booming laugh, nodding in mock apology. "Ah, how flawlessly you conceal your femininity beneath that feral glare."
"This scrawny little slave wench is what that traitorous lord was hiding in his vault?" Nevius scoffed, jumping to his feet with an expression of pure skepticism. "This is the grand treasure? What value does a broken skeleton possess? She isn't even developed enough to bed, and she has no meat on her bones. The only thing of note is that freakish hair."
A low, guttural vibration started deep in my throat, a true predator's growl that no human throat could ever replicate. My vision turned a violent, stormy blue. The insults this lesser male hurled so casually... not even my brutal captors had dared to be so brazen outside of the bars.
Instinct overrode intellect. My body moved before I could consciously halt the impulse.
I lunged across the water at Nevius, my speed turning me into a silver blur. I brought both hands down in a vicious strike, burying my right dagger deep into his left shoulder blade while wrapping my powerful, sinewy legs around his chest to lock him in place. Before he could scream, I snapped my jaws forward, burying my sharpening fangs directly into the meat of his shoulder. I tasted his blood, it was foul, and stagnant. I wanted to rip the vocal cords straight out of his throat, but his reflexes were surprisingly fast for a human. He threw his weight back, spoiling my target.
Nevius let out a horrified shriek, his cold, bony hands tearing frantically at my waist as his blood soaked through my tattered tunic. His panicked struggling only stoked my feral euphoria. I snarled, a savage, beastly sound, and bit down deeper, grinding my teeth against his collarbone. I could feel my true self thrashing just beneath the surface of my skin, desperate to tear through the prison of this flesh.
The true purpose of my shackles was now laid bare for both men to see. My natural lineage was bleeding through the human illusion. Suddenly, a second pair of hands wrapped around my torso. They were impossibly thick, warm, and possessed the unyielding strength of iron vices.
Victor peeled me off his warrior with terrifying, effortless ease. I writhed violently against his grip, my rage turning upon him. I twisted in his embrace, baring my blood stained fangs and lengthening my fingernails into razor sharp talons, driving them deep into his forearms. When his grip didn't waver by a single millimeter, I snapped my jaw downward, sinking my teeth deep into his massive bicep.
"Settle down, wild thing." Victor cooed softly, his voice incredibly gentle, as though he were soothing a frightened child rather than a blood crazed apex predator.
I froze. The pure confusion and terror radiating off Nevius as he clutched his bleeding shoulder was palpable, but Victor... Victor was a mountain of absolute serenity. Despite my teeth buried in his flesh, his heartbeat remained slow, rhythmic, and entirely devoid of fear. Slowly, the blinding rage left my eyes. I retracted my talons, my nails smoothing back into human shapes.
Victor's blood tasted vastly different from Nevius's, it was far more pleasant to deal with. I reluctantly relinquished my bite. Sensing the tension drain from my frame, the giant gently lowered me back to the gravel, his blue eyes boring into me with a sudden, suffocating intensity.
"What... what manner of demon are you?" Nevius stammered, stumbling backward into the mud.
"Why, Nevius, have you learned nothing from your experience?" Victor asked, a sharp smirk returning to his features. "Why be so relentlessly rude to a creature who is clearly a consecrated child of the Gods?"
"How can you possibly say-"
"You possess eyes, Nevius. Use them." Victor interrupted, his tone shifting to one of absolute authority. "For a fraction of a second, she manifested the traits of the great wolf. She is a warrior molded by the higher powers, perhaps an escaped soul from Valhalla itself."
While the two men were locked in debate, I spun on my heel, intending to melt into the brush. But before I could take a single step, a third giant materialized from the shadows behind me, scooping my small frame up and hoisting me effortlessly over his massive shoulder.
"King Kushin, the stray attempted to run." The new warrior stated, his voice a gravelly monotone.
"Lord... you cannot seriously intend to bring that feral creature aboard our vessels?" Nevius groaned, stanching his bleeding shoulder with a scrap of linen.
"Indeed I do, Brother." Victor replied, his eyes locked onto mine as I hung upside down over his warrior's shoulder. "We cannot leave a sacred existence on this wretched outpost. Horus, escort her to the flagship and secure her there, with proper respect, if you please."
Victor walked around the giant to face me directly, reaching up to gently pat my matted silver hair. "I shall see to your bindings shortly, little one. Be a good creature and listen to your elders." He gestured for Horus to depart.
Recognizing that I was entirely outmatched by their numbers and my own suppressed biology, I ceased my struggling and went completely limp. It was clear this 'Kushin' commanded this entire armada. Horus carried me through the burning remnants of the village and stepped onto the deck of a magnificent longship, lowering me gently against the primary mast before looping a heavy hemp rope through my iron wrist shackles. He didn't bind me tightly, he merely secured me to the central beam, ensuring I was positioned where I could look up at the expanse of the sky.
He draped a thick, heavy bear fur blanket over my shivering shoulders, turned on his heel, and walked away without uttering a single word.
Left alone on the vessel, I leaned my head against the mast, my eyes tracing the incredible craftsmanship of the ship. I could feel the residual care and pride the woodworkers had poured into every beam. Each plank of oak was delicately carved, planed, and treated. The vessel practically radiated the joy and triumph of the men who sailed her.
I shifted my position, pressing my bare soles against the cold deck, closing my eyes to absorb the gentle, rhythmic rocking of the tide. It was a sensation I had almost forgotten during my years in the dark dirt. I sniffed the air hungrily, savoring the heavy, cleansing scent of salt, brine, and dried fish. A genuine smile broke across my lips as a crisp ocean breeze whipped through my hair.
Before long, the exhaustion of the breakout caught up to me. I drifted into a peaceful slumber, feeling strangely secure despite being a captive once more. The distant, heavy thud of boots marching across the soft sand eventually stirred me from my dreams. The footsteps were calm, yet the heartbeat accompanying them was rapid, thrumming with an undeniable, kingly excitement.
