One Month Earlier.

Inside the Forest

Freyja stayed close to her mother as she was lead through the barrow, in truth she had no idea why she had followed the adults, though her father seemed to approve of the decision. She had always been a shy child despite being blessed by a goddess of battle, though this was due to childhood trauma, the same one that left her a mute.

She had been attacked as a child, before then she had been bold and cheerful, greeting everyone in their village without care. After Freyja recovered from the accident, however, she began avoiding people she once liked, even crying when some came too close. Everything had changed for her, from the lack of a voice to the way she saw people.

She had realized the change when she saw the one who attacked her again, compared to those who had been around during her recovery this person form was hardly recognizable through the Haze. From then on the girl had been able to see peoples true character, the weird haze around the person in question that would have a different color, a white glow for the just, and a black mist for the unjust.

Ignis, her father had picked up on her reactions, watching them closely he began to notice that she only panicked around those who were less honorable, those thought to steal rather than work, those who raped the women of their enemies while pillaging. When he realized her new talent, Ignis kept his daughter close and her ability a secret lest she is taken away by his former king.

Perhaps this is why he let her come, and he wanted to know just what this Einherjar was like before they decided what to do with him. As they navigated the halls of the barrow, she stayed close to her mother, looking around in wonder at the pristine and clean halls, nothing like those that they had back home.

Freyja swallowed the saliva in her mouth as they came to the great iron gate her father had spoken of. "Stange, I didn't shut it when I left...." Ignis said, apprehension clear in his voice as he pulled the hammer from his belt. The other men followed suit, all turning to look around as Arcturus and Ignis moved to the door, looking upon one another before shoving hard against the gate.

The doors swung open with ease despite their size, looking about the entire arena was fully lit now, revealing a scene of shock. Kneeling in the center of the arena was a young boy, no older than twelve, his body covered in scars with strange black armaments clutched in his hands. Before the boy laid a mountain of draugr, beaten and broken the lot of them. The party began moving with caution towards the arena, no concern for the boy but of more draug hidden beneath the remains.

Freyja, however, began moving towards the boy without hesitation, his aura was mesmerizing, it was far more extensive than his own body, nearly filling the arena in a swirl of silver and black with a tinge of crimson. Within the torrent, she could see the shape of a wolf laying behind the boy filling the arena, like a dog watching over its master. Swallowing down her concerns as the vast creature looked down upon her as she knelt beside the boy, reaching out she gently touched his cheek, shivering faintly at the feeling of the scared flesh beneath her fingertips.

For an instant, the boy's eyes shot open, glowing dark red like fresh blood as the wolf let out a mournful howl, long drawn out baying that held a feeling of sorrow. At the same time, the glow of the boy's eyes faded until only the iris was the sanguine color, he then collapsed upon her, she could think of how light he was despite how broad his shoulders were.

Behind her she could hear the party shuffling down inside of the arena before the boy was moved onto a stretcher, her mother pulled her close, hands trembling softly. As the men began carrying the boy from the hall however she noticed something, there was two of him, like a ghost he was invisible to the others.

Shaking her head, she decided to ignore him as she had with all the other specters she had begun seeing the past years, wanting to avoid any more problems with the being taking an interest in her. As they walked, however, he didn't make it easy, moving closer to her once they locked eyes, his sly grin making her look away immediately as he kept trying to talk to her.

She forced herself to stay quiet if he thought she had just been looking in that direction he would lose interest soon right? Much to her chagrin, however, he did not lose interest, even as they returned to the camp and ate he sat beside his body, watching over it solemnly. Sigurn, however, had noticed her daughter's eyes shifting over towards the sleeping boy and smiled, while she had been shocked at the bloodlust she felt earlier she could only imagine the boys past.

She had discussed it with Ignis and Arcturus, between the three of them they had decided it would be best to take the boy in, and perhaps rather than him just living with them, he could become more. After all the choices for son in laws were very concerning at the moment. Sigurn stood up and nudged the silent girl with her foot and smiled."Come on, let's wash him up before it gets too dark!"

Freyja blushed darkly as he mother grabbed one side of the stretcher and dragged the boy's body to the water's edge as the specter began chasing after her, trying and failing to stop the cheery woman as she laid him down and started stripping his clothing and arms away from his grasp. As he was laid bare, she swore the boy's specter had turned pink as he looked away, all while her mother made a sound of approval.

"Come now child there's no reason to be shy, it won't be too long, and you will have a husband to be tending to yourself, think of this as training for that day!" While she tried to get out of this new duty, she noticed the specter was squirming about and acting embarrassed about the sudden exposure, at least she was not alone as her mother refused all of her pleas until with a solemn sigh she grabbed the other cloth and began wiping down the young warrior's body."

Once his body was scrubbed clean, they moved him back up towards the camp, patting him dry before she clumsily wrapped the kilt around his waist. She found herself wondering what the purpose of the garb was, after all, she had never seen a man wear anything aside from breeches even in the hottest of summers, nor had she seen it used in any rituals. For now, however, she did her best to cover him up as close as she could while the specter stood over her shoulder fussing about how to fasten a kilt.

As she finished she went to eat with her family, watching the specter roam the camp, stopping and listening to all the stories and gossip it could, laughing from time to time until finally, her eyes grew too heavy, she found herself laying between the boy and her father, sleeping well for the first time in months.

Ignis woke up long before the others, as he always had, after all even though there was no forge yet he was accustomed to waking up hours before anyone else to stoke the fire. As he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes he for a moment could have sworn he saw the boy they had taken in kneeling at the edge of the water, much in the same position he had found him in. Head down, hair wild, his small back covered in scars and the tattoos of the gods that made him feel like an ancient warrior.

The instant he blinked, however, he was gone, the old Smith shook his head before he went down to the waters edge himself, dropping to his knees beside where he had seen the boy and took a deep breath in, holding it for a moment before releasing. Ignis scooped up the frigid salt water and splashed his face and beard, rubbing thoroughly before shaking his head.

"What a farce this has become... Exiled for nothing more than demanding fair pay for our knowledge, all because some insecure old fool of a king wants to play at being a god..." After a moment Ignis pushed himself up and dusted off his breeches, stepping softly through the camp as he grabbed his bow, ax, hammer, and hunting knife. While the rest were asleep, he decided to venture out and search for a nearby source of iron.

Unknown to most the Nordic people did not always find their iron in mines, very few did. Most often the metal used by their smiths was bog iron, as its name implied he had to find a bog, preferably a large one that would yield a large amount of metal each generation. As such he found himself wandering upriver towards the barrow, not sure why he felt that it would be the best place he soon found some strange signs, those of a person living in the area months ago.

He found small limbs that had been cut off regrowing, following them he saw a large number of small berry bushes encircling a small shelter adorned with a large wolves skull. Swallowing he cautiously moved closer. Finding the charred skeleton of the wolf crudely butchered and laid in what he could only assume had been a pyre. Ignis found his mind returning to the boy, after all, he was the only one they had seen since they arrived, the shelter looked to be around his size, and this was an area as far from civilization as their provisions would allow.

It was unthinkable for another to be out in these woods, bringing himself back from his thoughts he caught a whiff of what he was looking for, walking farther north from the camp he found what he needed. A vast bog, the sun had begun to rise, and he could make out a thick jarnbrák already. His curiosity drove him to wade into the knee-deep swamp carefully before moving his boot around until he felt the heavy thud.

Taking a breath he reached down with both hands and grabbed at the object, grunting as he pulled back with all his might, it was a slow process, but soon he could hear the faint slurping sounds of the mud releasing. And soon he hefted the large chunk of iron out of the bog and grinned; it weighed nearly thirty pounds, something this size would easily give him five new ax heads.

For now, Ignis brought the chunk back to the small campsite and placed it within the shelter, uttering a prayer to the gods before he returned to the shore. Offering a greeting to the lucky hunters to have found a few hares he went to tell Arcturus of his find and stake his claim over the area as was his right as the discoverer, however when he found his old friend he was sitting on a rock looking out at the waters edge lost in thought. "What is on your mind Arc?"

Hearing Ignis, the chief raised a hand in greeting, and without looking away, he motioned to the shore."Do you see him Ignis?" The question "Who" was on the tip of his tongue when he remembered the scene from this morning. He found it easy to forget Arcturus patron god Heimdalls blessing allowed one to see the unseen, at times it is the ghosts of the slain and others the rogues cloaked in shadows.

"Aye, I saw him this morning, just for a moment while my eyes were still trying to focus..." Ignis sat beside his friend and nudged him firmly. "What does this mean though old friend, his body is still warm and breathing, why is his spirit wandering?" With a grunt, the chief shook his head before turning to the smith."I am not entirely sure, he must be ill and near death's door." He glanced back to the shore as he watched the specter rise and begin wandering the now lively camp."When I first saw him, he was wandering through the camp as though he was patrolling, watching us like a hound..."

The thought sent a shiver through Ignis' spine, just the idea of always being watched running through his mind made him begin to question if that had been paranoia or some spirit."With that intense presence we felt yesterday it begs to question if he is safe to keep around Arc, and with what I found this morning I can only wonder whether or not he is sane..." As Arcturus looked at him quizzingly, Ignis gave him a rundown of his finds this morning.

"A child of the wilds it seems, perhaps if we look long enough we will find the ship his family used to come here, but I wonder how long he had been out here, and just what was with that mound of Draug he was kneeling in front of...." Shaking his head more violently now he stood up."Enough dwelling on what we can't help, we need to focus on building for now...."

A week had passed since the group had brought the boys body into the encampment and nothing had changed, his body was kept clean, and he was fed broth and water to ensure he survived. Ignis, however, had bigger concerns, after a few days he noticed his daughter Freyja staring at one spot for a while, the place always changed but she was always staring off into the distance when she was not doing her chores.

While most parents would assume they were day-dreaming he knew that with her gift she had seen the boy and given how she knew not to let them know she could see them Ignis could only assume she was watching him closely. He had also noticed that she had regained her energy, wondering what had happened he stopped her one morning and sat down with his shield and a piece of charcoal."Its time to talk little one, I know that the boy is roaming the camp. Uncle Arc has seen him as well, so what I need you to tell me is what he has been doing..."

At first, Freyja had been concerned when she had been stopped but as her father asked about the boy she nodded her head eagerly and began writing down everything she had seen, running the charcoal across the surface of the shield to write her runes for her father to read the story. "He roams, listens to stories, watches us work. He patrols the camp at night, hunting, watching..."

She had filled the shield at this point and passed it to her father; the Smith grunted softly as he read the runes before wiping the shield clean with a rag."What does he hunt little one, what is he watching?" As she was asked the girl smiled brightly, a smile he had not seen in some time from her, He could tell she was happy as her writing became a little frantic. "He hunts the monsters! The ones that tormented me, and the others! He watches the bad men, listening to them at night..."

Ignis' eyes opened wider as he read her message, swallowing as he couldn't help glancing through the window at the boy's body, laying in a bed covered in furs. The thought of one so small being able to not only identify those who had ill intent, but also fighting off the nightmares that plagued the camp. There was a twinge of guilt as he remembered questioning the boy's intentions, after all, to give off so much bloodlust was something unheard of even for veteran warriors.

But for him to be fighting spirits and watching those with ill intent he could only think of Tyr, a god that embodied justice and courage. Looking down at the shield once more he nodded, patting his daughters head." Keep an eye on him for now little one, kept track of what he does but don't reveal you can see him if possible... Now go and do your chores before your mother notices."

Ignis stood up as the girl ran off with two large buckets, heading to the river to gather water for the day. Running a hand through his beard, the smith began pondering what to do with the boy as he returned to his forge. As the next two weeks passed by the village was quickly built, and every day Freyja would tell her father of the boy's actions, informing him of his watch, more specifically who he was watching the closest. By the third week Sigurn, Ignis' wife had found out about the boy's spirit wandering the village, watching over everyone.

Rather than being angry at Ignis for using their daughter's gift despite the warnings from their seer, she was more mad about being kept in the dark about the boy's actions. After that she became more caring, speaking of him more like a son as she saw the effect the nightmares had on her little girl, something even the seer's remedies did nothing for, to her that was all that she needed to know to make her trust him.

Things went smoothly until the night of the eclipse, one month had passed since the boy's arrival, and it was the first time that anyone had run into Dragur despite the extensive exploration around the village, the only thing that had stood out was the wolf and bear populations. Namely the monstrous black wolf they had named Hati. However, the beast mostly left them alone unless they came close to its den.

Tonight, however, things were different. It all happened at the stroke of midnight a skull-rattling howl shook the eves of every home in the village, those who were asleep sprang from their beds, the men rushed for their arms as most of the women moved to grab their children to protect them. As the men made it outside the alarms began to sound, the shouts of the guards sang a song of fear and confusion.

Arcturus wasted not one second as he ran from the longhouse with nothing but a shield and ax, wearing only his undergarments as he charged to the source of the alarms, shouting orders as he forced all into ranks behind him. As he saw the small army of nightmares and draug, however, he wavered for a moment, shaking his head as the scene of the boy kneeling before a mountain of draug came back to mind. "Shieldwall!" The command was simple, and all shield bearers snapped to attention, moving forward and locking their shields together as they marched forward while the guards fled towards them.

As the group pressed forward the world became bathed in blood red light, causing shouts of confusion and fear as the enemies before them seemed to grow larger, stronger. A chorus of howls and cackles rattled from the monsters as they charged the villagers while they were still in disarray.

In a matter of seconds, the beasts crossed a hundred yards between the two groups and smashed into the spears of the villagers, the ones behind the front line shoving their impaled allies farther along as they quickly washed over the villagers as they threw away the weakest amongst them to get rid of the spears.

The blatant disregard for losses on their enemies part sent a wave of fear through the ranks of defenders, some of the weaker-willed even turned and ran from the frontlines only to be struck down by the monsters that were running past the shield wall and into the village. Upon seeing this Arcturus took a deep breath and stood up straight, realization dawning on him that they stood no chance of getting through this without some losses.

But at the same time as he exhaled he let out a booming roar. "Stand and fight you, cowards!" As the roar swept through the throng of man and beast he slammed his ax to his shield resulting in a brilliant white shockwave rippling through the villagers, sending the draugr and nightmares flying back

While not all returned to the front most did, beginning the counter-attack with the room granted by the shockwave their leader created. Those who did run away were swiftly taken down by the nightmares pitchforks, Arcturus could hear the screams beginning to rise from the village as the nightmares began beating down doors to get to the women and children.

He was within seconds of ordering some at the rear to go to their aid when he caught sight of a nightmare hovering off of the ground, struggling and grasping at its throat moving backward out of the smithy until it was under the blood red light and the source of its pain was clear. The boy they had taken in, or at least his spirit killed the nightmare by impaling it upon its own weapon.

Even from the distance, he could see the malicious haze radiating from the boy's limbs as he threw the beast away and threw himself upon the next. Shaking his head Arcturus returned his gaze to the enemies before him, feeling secure in knowing the wraith seemed intent on killing those who meant them harm.

Wilhelm howled with savage glee as he slaughtered the beasts, the more he was hurt, the more blood that caked his body the stronger he got until soon he was standing before a mound of broken beasts, his body coated head to toe in wounds and blood as he continued with reckless abandon.

"Don't stop, keep moving, don't let a single innocent die tonight..." these thoughts along with the savage pleasure he took from the pain he was receiving and the act of violence he performed kept him moving without fear for himself even as his body began to slow down from exhaustion. That is until a bone-chilling howl brought his attention to the forest where he locked eyes with the pitch black dire wolf he had been attacked by his first few nights.

At the sight of the beast, Wil knew it was the one in charge, if they could just take out the wolf it would all be over. With a loud, baying howl the monsters all around stopped and fell back, regrouping themselves. Even the ones in the town that he had been hunting vanished in a haze only to pop back up in ranks.

Wil shook his head clear of other thoughts and ran straight for the line Arcturus was commanding, but along his way, he saw little Freyja and her mother had come outside. As he was about to say something he saw the look of concern in the elder woman's eyes, and the fear in the youngers.

As he got closer he could see they held his spear and shield, Sigurn held his shield as it was too heavy for Freyja who seemed to have trouble even with the spear, and it was in the reflection of the shield that he saw a scene from a horror film, a blood-soaked boy walking away from a mound of corpses.

As he got close enough however Sigurn reached out with a cloth and wiped the blood from his face before smiling."Don't push yourself too hard my little Einherjar, it wouldn't do if your soul was defeated before you could move the body Freyja has been caring for...." As she said this she spun the shield around to expose the gauntlet on the back to him.

Nodding lightly he smiled softly he tossed the blood caked pitchfork aside and slid his hand into the shield and gripped tightly, shuddering at the sensation as he gently took the spear from Freyja. "Yes, mother. After all, it would be a shame if there was no one to keep the nightmares away..." Reaching out with the gauntleted hand he gently patted Freyjas head before he took off into a run towards the frontlines.