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 Posted: Wed Jul 27, 2011 6:22 pm
"FINNA!"
Looking at the younger girl, Brynja reached a boiling point. She would not have it, all these children running wild, getting in the way, getting carried away. All she could think of were ways to scold Var, things to say about how she had let Finna go, it was irresponsible to not have brought the child in. What was she herself doing out on dragons' night? Why hadn't she been at home? What would her mother have said if she had been caught outdoors this late?
"It will eat her, won't it. Gods help me, what will I tell her mother?"
What would they tell Finna's mother? Blue eyes stared down into green ones, and Brynja felt pity for the other teen. Not long ago Brynja had lost a charge of her own. Was he even safe now? Or had she lead him into further danger? All these children running around, disobeying, misbehaving, it was so difficult to keep track of them, keep them responsibly secure. Motherly impulses taking over, the blonde began thinking of things to calm the other girl. Though Var seemed to have her own impulses taking over.
"I will just have to follow. Hunt the beast down."
Brynja's eyes widened. No. Not both of them. Not two children in one night. She could not allow it. But before she could say a single word, the redhead was already off, after the girl and the dragon.
"Var! Var get back here!" Quickly catching up, Brynja stood in Var's path. "And just what do you think you're doing? Where do you think you're going? There are still dragons! Do you want the both of you carried away?"
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Posted: Thu Jul 28, 2011 6:46 am
Vár flinched at Brynja's words, the sentiments echoing her own doubts. What did she mean to do? Follow the beast. And then be eaten as well. Perhaps then her guilt would cease. How useless. Raising her tear streaked face, she stared helplessly at the older girl.
"What else can I do?"
Guilt and fear welled within her. It was true that she would most likely die but what other path could she take? None that would allow her rest at night. No other path would release her from this. Even if her efforts were in vain...
"I cannot abandon her. I... I cannot walk away from here. Do not stand in my way."
Brynja was older than Vár and stronger. This did not matter. She had to win through. If she could not defeat even a single human, she would be no match at all for a dragon. But then, at least here she need not use strength to win. Casting a prayer to her chosen god, Vár took a calming breath and wiped the tears from her eyes.
"You know they will do nothing. They will leave her to be eaten. Even now the fighting is slowing. We will be seen. There is still time but it is fast leaving us. Think on this. I will go after her and sooner or later I will manage to leave this place. My chances... Finna's chances are higher if you turn away now. Please."
Her voice trembled but now this was for show. Let the girl relax her guard. No matter the outcome, Vár meant to leave tonight and no one, human or beast or god would stand in her way.
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Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2011 3:58 pm
Brynja could see the guilt, the desperation, and most of all the determination in Var's eyes. What the girl was doing was not right - it was madness. The chances of recovering Finna safely from a dragon were bleak. And making it still more bleak was the chances of their own return. Madness. Brynja could not allow it; she had spent most of her life protecting the younger ones, ensuring they stayed out of trouble and harm's way. But if she knew anything about Var, it was that the fiery teen would find a way. Her last words did nothing to change that fact.
Taking a deep breath, the blonde made up her mind. Of all the options she could think of, only one could work.
"All right, Var. You want to leave, you want to go rescue Finna? You want to risk your neck with all the dragons that have flocked here tonight? Fine. You're right, the battle will soon be over for now. The others would only stop us." She paused, letting it sink in. "I'm coming with you, Var. The gods know you need someone behind you."
Gazing up at the other girl a moment longer, brow furrowed, Brynja turned on her heel, long hair swaying behind her. She began gathering small provisions, anything easily carried. Muttering about repaying the family later, she threw a glance back at Var. "Are you going to help, or must I do everything?"
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Posted: Thu Aug 04, 2011 10:26 am
Eyes wide, Vár grinned and hurried to gather items of use alongside the older girl. Flint and steel, food, water, a thick cloak that was about her size the nights were cold... her eyes settled on the long handle of some weapon propped agains the wall. A war hammer; one end of the head was blunt while the other was spiked. Grasping the handle with one hand, Vár raised the weapon, hefting it experimentally. Yes, this would do. Sliding the handle through her belt, she filled the pack then pulled it over her shoulders. The cloak went over everything. She gave the house one last look then turned to Brynja.
"I know this is folly but I... well, thank you."
With that, she stepped out the door and into the darkness. Vár could sense the great beings just overhead, leaving the village with plunder in their claws. Her gaze fell on the forest ahead. They must hurry. Her heart was thudding against her chest, a fury blazing through her veins. Vár felt as if she could run until the end of the world and still keep going. Enrik had told her that in times of great need the gods would gift their warriors with the strength to endure. A welcome gift, indeed.
"We can follow them easily. The trees will shelter us... I have always wondered how they land as it is. Their wings... well, close spaces must be beyond them..."
Her breath puffed out in plumes of white as Vár spoke, thoughts racing as quick as the pulse thudding in her veins. It was true that she had spent some goodly time in thinking of the creatures. Lizards, dragons, demons. These words meant little when so little was known. Perhaps that was the crux of the problem. Perhaps in saving Finna, they could also... shaking her head, Vár banished the old dreams from her mind. It was a waste of time, regardless, and dangerous now that she needed all of her attention on the road ahead. They had reached the edge of the forest. She turned to look back at the village. Most of the fires had been put out now.
"It might have been nice... to have few more... but maybe it's better this way."
Her voice was soft so as not to carry in the near silence of the dark forest.
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Posted: Thu Sep 08, 2011 12:26 am
Jak sat hunched over at his desk unable to stop trembling. He put his hands up to rub his face, but even with elbows braced against the solid wood and his back clenched, he was still nearly vibrating. Was he getting ill? No. The drain he had felt before had evaporated, he was now feeling more invigorated than he believed he should. Jak realized his thoughts seemed clouded, yet at the same time there was a strange clarity.
That book...
Jak parts the fingers over his right eye as the icy orb swings lazily up to stare at the bookcase at the far wall. It was the only one in the library with a door and a heavy bar to keep it tightly sealed. He had only opened it once before, when he had first inherited the house from his parents. It's where the most valuable items in the house were kept, including a strange tome. It was a monster of a written record. When he had pulled it off the shelf for the first time he nearly dropped it it was so heavy. Normally such a thick work would be the pride of a librarian's collection, and Jak had anticipated it to be. Until he read it's contents. The ideas and claims inside had seemed absolutely absurd. It seemed the work of a mad man more than the vast collection of knowledge it appeared to be on the surface. As the son of a village hero, a great dragon slayer, a book detailing the intellect and equality of dragons was an atrocity. No one else in the village knew of the abomination's existence, Jak himself had nearly forgotten it lay locked away behind those sturdy doors. But now, this feeling of the blood pounding in his veins, this outrage, perhaps it was driving him mad?
That book, that book! Why had he thought of it now? Why did this feeling make him so irrational?! But he couldn't shake it! If there was a grain of truth in that book it had to be more sane than the destruction outside!
A strangled whisper escapes Jak's lips, "This is madness...!"
He slams his clenched fists down on the desk and sits up straight as a board, his eyes a bit wild. He pushes himself away from the desk and stands up abruptly. The long stride of his legs gets him to the back wall quickly. His heart still racing he looks up at the huge case that brushes the ceiling. The trembling stops. he grabs hold of the wooden bar, the aged and neglected hinges groaning in protest, and heaves it open. Grasping the intricately carved handles he pulls both case doors open wide and the lantern light gleams off the multitude of objects inside. Complete sets of heavy armor, dozens of weapons, and countless valuable dragon artifacts line the shelves.
But his mother's masterpieces are not what call to Jak's pulsing blood. There, on the bottom shelf on the left-hand side, the nameless monster. He squats down and hefts it up into his arms. With less difficulty than he remembers he's able to carry it to the front desk, it shakes even the floor as it thumps down onto the wood, and the craftsman furniture groans under the weight.
Jak runs his hand across the thick leather brushing off the thick coating of dust. But other than the dirt, the tome looks no older than the day he first found it. Another clouded thought swells up in Jak's mind, could it be enchanted? Could such a practice exist? If the words in this book rang true, such a thing could be just as possible...
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Posted: Sun Sep 11, 2011 6:44 pm
.:: Viking winds lead down my true path...
All was dark. Ketill could feel himself walking, that was all. Soon the texture of the ground became familiar, and from there the features of his surroundings came into place. The cool surface he felt with his bare feet made him smile, grass. Soon it expanded into hills, beautiful hills that sang of sunlight. The blue skies formed, and the bright sun greeted him with its hidden smile.
He neared the top of the hill now, excited to see what new territories could be surveyed from the altitude. But when he looked down, all he saw was black. Scrunching his face by squinting, he leaned closer to the abyss, his curiosity wondering what could be down there. Soon he made out shapes. They came to the surface slowly, his vision weak. They appeared soft, cylindrical, almost like...
Flesh. Arms and legs and something els-
Ketill turned and ran before he allowed himself to look at the eye floating in the mysterious blackness. He kept running, his eyes barely open enough just to see where he ran. But the ground became wet, then slippery, and before he could correct his speed, he fell forward, landing on his arms and legs. He sat up a bit to look at them.
They were covered in crimson. He panicked, not wanting to relive that horror again. But it was everywhere he looked. The entire green landscape had been replaced by blood, the wet substance being what he had slipped on.
He had to get away from here, had to get away from the crimson. But every time he tried to get up, his leg or arm or hand would slip on the puddle he was in. Soon he was forced to lie on the ground, unable to lift any of his limbs as he flailed and slipped. The puddle seemed to get deeper, and soon he was coughing on the stuff as the level of the blood reached his mouth. His vision, soon covered, faded in and out as he sputtered and struggled to lift himself out of the pool of blood.
A thud woke him up, his body covered in sweat. He held his hands in front of him, the only thing covering them being dirt and dried flecks of blood. Yet he stared, unable to see anything but crimson dripping down his arms. He heard movements around him - Jak? - but could not react. Footsteps and the creaking of doors. Then, another slam, and Ketill was up. Before the images and blood and screaming could return, he ran, barely noticing the details around him. Jak was bent over a book, and his inner whispers of a lover of books went unheard. The hidden shelf was open, revealing all sorts of wonders that would have kept Ketill delighted for days. He saw none of it, though his eyes passed over it clearly.
Soon he was out the door. Hills and villages were painful, so he sought the only hiding place he knew: the forest. His feet flew across the grass, his arms pumped wildly, and the tears from his eyes flowed like rivers. Only two words rang in his head, repeating themselves alongside his left and right feet:
'No more. No more. No more...'
...commanding me to fly. ::.
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Posted: Thu Sep 15, 2011 10:31 am
What a journey lay ahead. The thought came unbidden into Brynja's mind, a sense of foreboding. The sky was black; starless gaps showed clouds crawled across the sky. Other dark shapes she did not like to think about. The roar of the town echoed far away. Here at the edge of the forest the world seemed remote, only night birds and soft rustling in the bushes.
"It might have been nice... to have a few more... but maybe it's better this way."
Brynja shivered, suddenly aware of the chill air as the night deepened. It creeped into her veins, and a spasm of fear ran through her. She longed to be in her mother's arms, listening to her voice by the fire; her father would walk in, a broad smile lighting up his worn face. Looking back at their town, she could see the glow from several fires still yet to be put out. Her gaze followed the smoke into the sky, and the last straggling beasts taking flight. They were ruining this village. Swooping in and taking their food, homes, and people. Not this time.
"We must hurry, and be swift. It will not be easy to track them for long, and if they hear clumsy footfalls they will surely take us as captives too."
Strangely enough, just then there came the sound of pounding feet behind them. Brynja turned, searching the dark - she half-feared some elder had noticed their presence, and was about to capture the girls. But no, it was too light a sound for that. Narrowing her blue eyes, she spotted the shadow tearing their way. It was none other than another child; Brynja guessed it by his silhouette and speed.
"Ketill?" Even from a distance he did not seem himself. Why was he out here? She knew he often helped in battles, and disapproved, but they were nowhere near. Had something happened? But then how did the boy know where she was? Something was not right, and he was not slowing down. "Ketill!" Brynja shouted, pacing a few strides in his direction, arms up like ship masts.
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Posted: Tue Oct 11, 2011 7:23 pm
.:: Viking winds lead down my true path...
Had she not shouted, it would have never reached him. His isolation was so strong, so full of force and loss and the sheer will of "no more." But her voice managed to pierce through his wall of self-containment, and he slowed instantly, taking a true look around. His eyes had already been open, but they had only noted trees and other impediments in his escape. Now he saw her clearly. Both of them. He knew their names, too. Brynja. And... Vár. His slow run became a walk, which shuffled to a stop a comfortable distance from them both. As he approached, his movements were fidgety, as though he were one nerve away from twitching. Despite the extra energy, he looked drained, his body weak and his eyes baggy. Even his normally-pale skin seemed deprived of color. His feet were the most restless, unwilling to slow when he just wanted to GO. To run, far far away from this death-ridded land.
"I didn't know you guys would be this way. I'll just be going..." he said, his voice weak. He turned to run, but something made him stop. Anyone could have heard it. Despite the noise of the battle, despite their distance, it was a sound no creature could ignore, even if they wanted to. Even if the sound was muffled, the weight of its grief pierced even the strongest of hearts.
It was the cry of a mother. And the name she called sounded faintly like...
Ketill turned around, his eyes black with fire.
"Why are you guys out here?" All of the weakness of his voice before was gone; now it demanded an answer. But what gave it its fire was not anger or grief.
It was fear.
...commanding me to fly. ::.
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