Prologue
During the Viking age in the Norse Lands, a boy had been born. A boy who would one day rule the Norse Lands and be titled ‘King of the Vikings’. That boys name was Timothious Brondolf. The boy had lost his mother at the age of five and was taken care of by his father who was the finest blacksmith in all Midgard. Several years later, the boy had grown into his teen years. However, during this day an invasion was taking hold. A storm was brewing as a tribe of barbarian-like warriors who call themselves ‘The Wolf Kings’ attacked without warning. The invading Wolf Kings burn down the villages and took the women and children as slaves. Little Timothious who bared blonde hair was taken from his father who was among the race of Frost Giants.
The Wolf Kings chieftain and commander was named Narzac, and stood six feet tall. He was the tallest and the strongest of his people. He was a brute and was built for combat. Long pitch-black hair with a long beard to match. Long red scars were on both sides of his face and a red ‘W’ on his forehead. He certainly was a brute of a man, but Narzac went by another name. His people called him ‘The Blood Wolf’. Narzac was the cruelest of his tribe, a fearless leader. The perfect candidate to have been called chieftain. Anyone who stood against Narzac ended up dead. Their lives taken either by the blade of his ax, or worse. Two of the tribes’ members took a prisoner captive and brought before Narzac. Narzac sat upon his throne which was made of bones from his victims as the prisoner pleaded for his life. Narzac stared at the man with those piercing yellow eyes.
“Please, spare my life.” Pleaded the man. The Wolf Kings had tortured and beaten the poor soul into submission. He was once a proud soldier for the north men. But now, he was nothing more than a broken man who had nothing else to lose, nothing to live for.
“Why should I spare you?” Asked Narzac as he stood up from his throne. He walked towards the man.
“Give me one good reason you should be allowed to live. You have nothing else to live for. No one to go home to. No wife, no child. Face it, you’re nothing more than a broken-down man.” He grinned. The prisoner bowed his head in shame as Narzac towered over him. Narzac took a knife as he slowly drove his blade deep into the man’s body. The man’s eyes widened as he looked up at Narzac. Narzac forced the man to stand up as he bites the man’s neck and ripped out his throat. Narzac spat it out as he sucked the man’s blood like a vampire. Narzac’s mouth was smeared with the prisoner’s blood as the man’s lifeless corpse fell to the ground. He wiped the blood from his mouth.
“It’s snack time boys.” Narzac went back to his throne and sat as the rest of the tribe feast upon the man’s flesh as if they were cannibals. The boy spied on them and saw everything. He now knew of Narzac’s cruelty. The boy knew that he had to escape and call for aid. A hand crept onto his shoulder. The boy turned to face a girl, no older than he was. She had short, brown hair as the moonlight reflected off her baby blue eyes.
“Timothious.” She called the boy.
“What are you doing out of your bedroll? They’re going to catch you.”
“Someone has to stop these brutes Astrithr.”
“Who though? We certainly can’t. No one is coming for us. Now come on, we need our sleep.” She said as Astrithr took Timothious’s hand. It sounded like she had given up hope. It had been fourteen months since they’ve been here at the Wolf Kings camp.
“But you can’t give up hope.” The boy said.
“If I can escape, I’ll find someone who can help us.”
“Escape? There is no escape. We’ve been here for fourteen months.” She sat on her bedroll in front of the fire with her chin buried in her legs.
“It’s hopeless.” A small tear shredded across her face. Timothious kneelt beside her as he wiped her tear away. She looked up at him.
“It is only hopeless if we stop trying. I will never stop trying, and neither shall you. My father always taught me to be strong. There’s a warrior inside us all Astrithr. And the warrior within me says that we need to stop The Wolf Kings.” The boy stood up as he lends out his hand to her.
“I will never give up on these poor souls or you.If you are willing to take my hand, then we can escape this camp together.” He smiled.Astrithr looked up at him and smiled back.She then realized that Timothious was right.She knew that she must never abandon hope.As long as they had each other, they could escape this harsh camp.She took Timothious’s hand one last time as he helped her up off the ground.
