Port Township of Stargorn Bluff.
The Chieftan was sitting upon his fur laden chair that was at the top end of the Meeting hall of his clan. Gnarled fingers strummed the arm rests as he sat with a grim expression. His wife, Sarras, who was nursing their youngest son kept looking up at her husband, who had grave concerns about the whereabouts of Valkrik and Errys. He was aware that his eldest son had gone off in search of her, but there was something else that bothered him. The way in which he saw the fire in his son’s eyes that he had seen once before when he was very young. One of the boy’s horses had been mistreated by a young servant of the Chief, and when Honrick went to break up the fight the boy’s eyes were of that same fire. He remembered it vividly. The eyes of a demon. It scared him so that he released his son, and then took to discipling the servant so to keep his son from doing something rash. Ever since that day, he feared that his son might do something like this again.
“Sarras?” The Chieftan called his wife’s name, and she nervously looked up at him from where she sat. “My love?” Her voice had a tremble to it, for she too was very worried. Valkrik always had a fierce protective streak over his sister Errys, but to disobey his father’s orders and go searching for her himself, had even Sarras questioning the extent of his affection to his sister. Nursing her newborn, she rubbed the child’s back while waiting for her husband to speak.
“I have never questioned you about Valkrik. I accepted him as my son. He is a natural born leader, there is no mistake in this. By Odin….he was born to be the next chieftan.” The Chief believed this with all his being, but he now was starting to have doubts. “His eyes burned with fire, the day I told him not to follow Errys. He disobeyed me.” The light sound of the newest son suckling was all that you could hear, as both sat in silence, Sarras trying to find the courage to tell him the truth. Her eyes darted about the room, only to fall back again on her husband’s stern face. She rocked back and forth as she nursed her son.
“He has always been headstrong, my love.” Sarras said, averting from the mention of his eyes of fire. She had seen them many times, but the boy had never turned on her. Valkrik treasured his mother greatly. Sarras was doing all she could to hold her tongue. The thought that the truth would come out scared her silly. In the basket in which she found the boy in the field, was a letter. A rolled parchment, which she had in her possession. The answers to his heritage had been sealed since his birth. Sarras had planned to give it to him when he was of age. She had kept the secret this long….she planned to continue to do so until he was old enough to understand.
The Chieftan slammed his fist on the arm of his chair and then rose to standing.
“He will answer to me when he returns.” The Chieftan went to leave the meeting hall, but his parting words made his wife cringe. “They both will.”
So much had happened in a small amount of time. Eyyrs had finally found a man worthy of herself and she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she would be unable to keep him. Her father would see to that.
After their moment by the lake, she turned away from him, back to the tent so that she could dress for the return home. As she knelt upon the furs, the place where she had found a moment of happiness, she could hear the witch in her head, practically shouting in her mind.
“YOU HAVE DOOMED THEM ALL!
She pressed a hand to her heart, a gasp tearing from her lips as she suddenly got a vision of their village up in flames. Men and women running and screaming as the smell of burnt flesh and wood seared across her senses. Demons of all shapes and sizes were running amok, killing, raping and setting fire to everything and everyone. And atop a hill, looking down upon the destruction and death, an evil smirk upon his face…was Valkrik.
She was drawn deeper into the vision and felt as if she were right there beside him.
Valkrik laughed darkly, his wings as dark as night as his demon aspect had a hold of him completely. He watched the destruction below with his red hues gleaming in satisfaction…and so much rage. He reached down to the huddled figure at his feet and brought the head up to see the death that plagued the lands below.
It was Honrick.
His face was a bloodied and bruised mess and there were deep slashes marring his skin. He did not look like a proud Viking chieftan. He looked…defeated.
Valkrik brought his face near to Honrick’s, his hot breath fetid upon his former father’s skin.
“See the destruction you have brought upon your people? You took something from me…and now I have taken something from you.”
“She…was never…yours!” Honrick panted out.
“SHE WAS MY LIFE!! AND YOU KILLED HER!!” Valkrik roared, pointing to another form laying close by. Eyyrs noticed this as well and moved near until she could see the person’s face. She gasped as she looked upon the still visage of…herself. The hilt of her father’s sword was struck through her stomach, pinning her to the cold ground beneath. There was something odd about her form, answered a moment later by Valkrik.
“You murdered the mother of my child!” Eyyrs eyes widened and she looked a little closer to see that there was indeed a slight swell in the stomach. Her father had killed an unborn child…
She fell to her knees in shock.
“Abomination!” Honrick spat. “She carried your demon spawn within her! I would not have such filth in my home!”
“And you took it upon yourself to rid this world of such…filth.” Valkrik laughed. “And now I shall return the favor.” He pointed off to the side where a pair of demons were holding a struggling figure between them. The cry of a child shattered the silence of the night and Honrick’s eyes grew wide with fright.
“No! Please! I beg you for mercy! Not my wife and son!” Honrick begged. “Take my life and spare theirs.”
“Like you spared your daughter’s?” Valkrik smirked. “No. You will watch the light leave their eyes as I tear them apart.” He nodded to his demon soldiers and Honrick cried out in rage and despair as his child was thrown off the cliffs and his wife was raped repeatedly before her head was torn from her body. Valkrik stood over the carnage wrought and laughed before he turned toward Honrick. “And now…you die…” Valkrik raised his sword and moved to strike the final blow…
Eyyrs was jerked from the vision with a final gasp, landing upon her hands as tremors wracked her body.
“By Freya…what have I done?” she whispered. If that was a vision of the future, then she needed to do whatever it took to see that it didn’t come true.
Little did Valkrik know that his beloved was suffering from a terrible insight to what could well be the future. He spotted her, kneeling and trembling as though she was overcome. Valkrik rushed to her side, and tried to help her up, by scooping her with his arms lacing under her own. His face searched hers and then he looked across her body to see if she had been somehow injured. She looked perfectly fine.
“Errys…what ails you?” He asked, his voice filled with worry and compassion. The very man of her visions acting out of love and kindness, unlike the ones she could see. His questions would be interrupted by the sound of a male’s voice in the distance.
“Valkrik?! Errys?!” The voice was that of Jorgen, Valkrik’s best friend and second when they were at war. He had come out in search of his friend, as word had gotten around the village that the pair had dissappeared. Using his excellent tracking skills, he was able to track them down. Seeing the smoke rising from the campsite fire, he was soon running through the clearing, and came upon the pair. What he saw, had his jaw fall open? Why was Valkrik holding Errys like that?
Jorgen tried to hide his confusion, and then smiled for he was glad his trek had ended. Valkrik turned his head to see Jorgen and immediately let Errys go. He stepped back, and you could see the conflict in his eyes. The tall Viking walked over to his friend, and they clasped each other in an acknowledging embrace.
“What are you doing here, Jorgen? Shouldn’t you be preparing the ship.” Valkrik was curious as to why Jorgen had come so far out from the clan lands. Jorgen slapped his friend’s back, and answered. “A ship needs his Captain.” Jorgen said with a laugh, before glancing at Errys. There was no mistaking that Jorgan had a soft spot in his heart for her. “You have all the town worried, Errys. Your father asked me specially to come look for you.” Was this really true? Valkrik knew that now was the time to head back. “I will finish packing the camp and we will return with you.” Not waiting for Errys to speak, he got right to work in rolling up his sleeping rug and gathering his clothes with his weapons. Jorgen approached Errys as this went on in the background.
“You have been missed, fair Errys.”
She must have taken too long to return for it was a few moments later when Valkrik burst into the tent to check on her and saw her trembling form. He took her into his arms, his eyes filled with worry as he checked her over.
“I’m fine…just…I’m fine.” she whispered, shrugging him off. Before he could question her further, there was a sound outside, and a familiar voice echoed across to them.
“Valkrik?! Errys?!” came the voice of Valkrik’s childhood friend, Jorgen. Before the two could seperate themselves, Jorgen was upon them, his eyes wide as he took them in standing intimately close. Eyyrs stepped back quickly, less he become suspicious. Valkrik inquired of why Jorgen had sought him out for which he reminded him that they needed to set sail in the next day or so. He then spoke of how it was Eyyrs’s father who had sent Jorgen to find them both.
Valkrik nodded and set about packing their belongings. Jorgen sidled up to her, his eyes warm as he drank in her features. She noticed this and it left a sick feeling in her stomach.
“You have been missed, fair Errys.”
“I’m sure.” she muttered, collecting her pack and going to Vor to saddle him for the ride home. She noticed Jorgen watching her from the corner of her eye and did not try to encourage him in any way. She did not need the attentions of a love-sick pup following her about.
She climbed upon Vor’s back and without acknowledging either man, turned to make the trek back to their village.
She was not looking forward to meeting with her father.