T
thestoryteller
Guest
I remember it like it was last eve. I can still see the images in my mind as if my father himself carved them there for eternity.
The sun setting across the bay in Svealand, its fiery fingers rippling across the water stroking the waves to sleep. My father sitting on the porch whittling away at a piece of Elmwood he had gathered in the forests that morn. His strong yet delicate hands guided his blade effortlessly through the grain for the length of the branch. The shavings fluttered to the floor gracefully as it started to take shape. For many hours he brushed away nature’s harsh exterior, exposing the true image of the wood beneath.
I watched the last of the light dim slowly into the horizon. I remember the moon that night was chasing the sun as it sank; its blue fluorescence lit the town well. Bork and the local guard needed not their torches that night, their path gently lit by the gods of the night.
To me now it seems like each stoke he took imbued that branch with all his wisdom, strength and heart. As my mother lit the fire inside the house, my father took the last stoke, held the branch before him and looked down its length, admiring its perfection. Then I knew nothing of its potential, of its importance to him, yet I sensed it was something perhaps magical.
My mother called me inside, I felt the dread of the final days chores coming to bear. As I rose from the step, right before me stood a man in black, where before I had seen no one approach. My heart threw me aback toward my father, who was already standing up, he put his hand upon my shoulder and somehow made me feel at ease.
“T’is time” proclaimed the stranger.
I glanced up at my father, to my surprise an eerie smile appeared on his face. The stranger bowed, not toward my father, but to me. His arm stretched out from beneath his cape, his hand reaching out to offer me its contents. I offered my hand out to receive the unseen gift, “Finest silk of Spindlehalla, this will give you the best of starts.”
He dropped into my hand a small ball of twine. It glistened gently in the moonlight, I could feel a strange yet powerful warmth start to travel up my arm, it didn’t alarm me, but made me feel oddly strong. I looked up to thank the stranger, and before me I could just make out his smiling face as it merged into the darkness, vanishing before I could open my mouth.
My father looked down upon me with a look of pride. A feeling of bewilderment came over me, it troubled me at first, but my curiosity of these events kept me narrowly in the moment. He reached down and took the twine from my hand.
“My son, t’is your 5th season as a Viking. As to all your ancestors, the coming of age, the time for you to start to learn what lies beyond the haven of Vasudheim, where we as Midgardians must help the gods vanquish the evils, feed our kin and learn the ways of manhood.”
He took the twine and unravelled it. He tied one end to the branch he had so carefully prepared. He turned towards the house, and placed the braches end into the corner of the front wall. He placed his weight upon it, bending the stricken wood. Carefully he held it in place, reached down and picked up the remaining twine and bound it around the other end of the shaft.
He stood up, still admiring his handywork, slowly turning toward me as he did.
“Boy, this is the tool my us Ulvnor’s have used for generations. Crafted from the finest elm from Yggdra, the toughest yarn from the web of Spinlehalla, and a little magic. This be your first bow my son, tonight you will use it for the first time on the hunt.”
My jaw dropped as he handed it to me. Words were hard to come by at a tender age, yet even more so when given your first tool of a family trade. My heart skipped a beat as I accepted his offering; I felt my mouth dry and cold, taking in the night air. What a magical feeling it was to receive such a gift.
My mother came through the doorway onto the porch. “Guess this is what your missing young hunter”, she said, handing me a leather quiver, filled to the brim with arrows. I could smell the Cockatrice feathers, as if they had been plucked that instant. “….And that’s not all you’ll need this eve…”
Gently she closed her eyes, put together her soft hands and turned her head toward the heavens. Around me I felt the air pick up its pace, slowly at first but gradually gaining momentum, it seemed to be drawn toward her. My eyes closed in the strong breeze, I watched as a small ball of light began to gather in front of her torso, getting more and more intense. She parted her hands and started to move them in a circle, as she did the light grew stronger, the wind gathered more speed and a faint rumble could be felt all around. The ground around us began to sway, the sounds of lightning and thunder started echoing and suddenly pure light…..and silence.
I opened my eyes. There was little I could see at first. Strange dark blurs and faint murmurs around me, a kind of whispered chant. It was very dark, but in the distance I could just make out a gentle glow, rectangular in shape, perhaps the outline of a door. Then I noticed behind me, knelt down with his head bowed, my father. I recollect I had words and questions in my mind, but my limbs and tongue refused to move, yet I trembled evermore.
“Cardij, of the house Ulven”; came a voice so soft. “Welcome to the house of Skadi”.
A strange aura filled the room gently with light. From the shadows all around me strange cloaked figures ebbed slowly from the shadows. In front of me a figure not unlike the rest slowly appeared, a tall woman, with the face of an angel, serenely smiled down upon me.
“Be not afraid my young Cardij, for we are your bretheren, you kin and your mentors.” Her words made me feel strangely calm, like all the burdens of life had been lifted from my shoulders. “You have been brought to me to follow in your fathers, and his father’s footsteps. Should you choose this path, your life as a hunter will begin, and Skadi will guide you in the ways of the wilderness. How to live with one with all your surroundings, tame the beasts and sense danger when others do not.”
Me….a mere boy being compared to my father. I had always admired his strength and courage, yet knew little of his life as a hunter. I was overwhelmed with this offer, yet something deep inside was telling me it was my destiny.
“I the Gothi of Skadi can only offer you this path, and only you can accept its responsibility. Cardij Ulven, will you take this challenge before you and follow in the footsteps of Skadi?”
My reply was swift, what more could I say. It was like being offered the keys to the kingdom.
“Yes, I will.” even to me my voice sounded true and strong, from such a small person.
“Then I bestow upon you the seal of Skadi, and with it all the power of our god and his eternal wisdom.” She bowed her head slowly, in the distance I could hear thunder once again, softer than before, it felt much less menacing, yet its timing made the events that much more powerful. The torches burning brightly on the oaken pillars around me began to flutter, the wind driving their flames toward the centre of the room, I watched motionless at the Gothi’s hands and face begun to glow, she held them towards me, and as I watched, as shape began to form before my young eyes, as golden stars twinkled in the cradle of her arms.
The shape grew slowly solid, its edges firming into a mass. The sparkles of light dwindled into the air, the thunderous roar of the sky calmed into the distance and the Gothi smiled gently and bowed toward me.
“I bestow upon you this gift of our God; it will serve only the keenest of minds, the sharpest of intellects and will suffer no fool. This cloak is imbued by Skadi himself, it will shroud you from your enemies, provide shelter when there is none and help you become one with that around you!”
Her arms stretched out toward me; slowly I took the cloak from her, without removing my eyes from her magical gaze. Gently I threw it around my back, and instantly could feel the power within.
Around me the elders, smiling proudly, began to lift the hoods of their cloaks, as they did, one by one they filtered into the dark surroundings, their faces staying for a split second more before vanishing into the cool night air without trace. I watched them disappear around me one by one, leaving only the Gothi and my father before me.
“He has a strong heart, the mind of a warrior and a keen eye, he will serve Midgard well, it is in your hands now” the Gothi spoke gently to my father while raising the hood of her cloak and dissolving into the night.
My father looked down upon me, still quivering from the events, but slowly calming as the sounds and sights around me returned to focus.
“And now my son, its time to show you Midgard’s true enemy, those who oppose our ways and beliefs. I speak not of the Drakulv or Svartalf, but the dwellers of foreign lands, those who choose the way of the Celt and Avalonian, it will be dangerous my son, but all who choose the path to protect Midgard must see with their own eyes what we face”
…
The sun setting across the bay in Svealand, its fiery fingers rippling across the water stroking the waves to sleep. My father sitting on the porch whittling away at a piece of Elmwood he had gathered in the forests that morn. His strong yet delicate hands guided his blade effortlessly through the grain for the length of the branch. The shavings fluttered to the floor gracefully as it started to take shape. For many hours he brushed away nature’s harsh exterior, exposing the true image of the wood beneath.
I watched the last of the light dim slowly into the horizon. I remember the moon that night was chasing the sun as it sank; its blue fluorescence lit the town well. Bork and the local guard needed not their torches that night, their path gently lit by the gods of the night.
To me now it seems like each stoke he took imbued that branch with all his wisdom, strength and heart. As my mother lit the fire inside the house, my father took the last stoke, held the branch before him and looked down its length, admiring its perfection. Then I knew nothing of its potential, of its importance to him, yet I sensed it was something perhaps magical.
My mother called me inside, I felt the dread of the final days chores coming to bear. As I rose from the step, right before me stood a man in black, where before I had seen no one approach. My heart threw me aback toward my father, who was already standing up, he put his hand upon my shoulder and somehow made me feel at ease.
“T’is time” proclaimed the stranger.
I glanced up at my father, to my surprise an eerie smile appeared on his face. The stranger bowed, not toward my father, but to me. His arm stretched out from beneath his cape, his hand reaching out to offer me its contents. I offered my hand out to receive the unseen gift, “Finest silk of Spindlehalla, this will give you the best of starts.”
He dropped into my hand a small ball of twine. It glistened gently in the moonlight, I could feel a strange yet powerful warmth start to travel up my arm, it didn’t alarm me, but made me feel oddly strong. I looked up to thank the stranger, and before me I could just make out his smiling face as it merged into the darkness, vanishing before I could open my mouth.
My father looked down upon me with a look of pride. A feeling of bewilderment came over me, it troubled me at first, but my curiosity of these events kept me narrowly in the moment. He reached down and took the twine from my hand.
“My son, t’is your 5th season as a Viking. As to all your ancestors, the coming of age, the time for you to start to learn what lies beyond the haven of Vasudheim, where we as Midgardians must help the gods vanquish the evils, feed our kin and learn the ways of manhood.”
He took the twine and unravelled it. He tied one end to the branch he had so carefully prepared. He turned towards the house, and placed the braches end into the corner of the front wall. He placed his weight upon it, bending the stricken wood. Carefully he held it in place, reached down and picked up the remaining twine and bound it around the other end of the shaft.
He stood up, still admiring his handywork, slowly turning toward me as he did.
“Boy, this is the tool my us Ulvnor’s have used for generations. Crafted from the finest elm from Yggdra, the toughest yarn from the web of Spinlehalla, and a little magic. This be your first bow my son, tonight you will use it for the first time on the hunt.”
My jaw dropped as he handed it to me. Words were hard to come by at a tender age, yet even more so when given your first tool of a family trade. My heart skipped a beat as I accepted his offering; I felt my mouth dry and cold, taking in the night air. What a magical feeling it was to receive such a gift.
My mother came through the doorway onto the porch. “Guess this is what your missing young hunter”, she said, handing me a leather quiver, filled to the brim with arrows. I could smell the Cockatrice feathers, as if they had been plucked that instant. “….And that’s not all you’ll need this eve…”
Gently she closed her eyes, put together her soft hands and turned her head toward the heavens. Around me I felt the air pick up its pace, slowly at first but gradually gaining momentum, it seemed to be drawn toward her. My eyes closed in the strong breeze, I watched as a small ball of light began to gather in front of her torso, getting more and more intense. She parted her hands and started to move them in a circle, as she did the light grew stronger, the wind gathered more speed and a faint rumble could be felt all around. The ground around us began to sway, the sounds of lightning and thunder started echoing and suddenly pure light…..and silence.
I opened my eyes. There was little I could see at first. Strange dark blurs and faint murmurs around me, a kind of whispered chant. It was very dark, but in the distance I could just make out a gentle glow, rectangular in shape, perhaps the outline of a door. Then I noticed behind me, knelt down with his head bowed, my father. I recollect I had words and questions in my mind, but my limbs and tongue refused to move, yet I trembled evermore.
“Cardij, of the house Ulven”; came a voice so soft. “Welcome to the house of Skadi”.
A strange aura filled the room gently with light. From the shadows all around me strange cloaked figures ebbed slowly from the shadows. In front of me a figure not unlike the rest slowly appeared, a tall woman, with the face of an angel, serenely smiled down upon me.
“Be not afraid my young Cardij, for we are your bretheren, you kin and your mentors.” Her words made me feel strangely calm, like all the burdens of life had been lifted from my shoulders. “You have been brought to me to follow in your fathers, and his father’s footsteps. Should you choose this path, your life as a hunter will begin, and Skadi will guide you in the ways of the wilderness. How to live with one with all your surroundings, tame the beasts and sense danger when others do not.”
Me….a mere boy being compared to my father. I had always admired his strength and courage, yet knew little of his life as a hunter. I was overwhelmed with this offer, yet something deep inside was telling me it was my destiny.
“I the Gothi of Skadi can only offer you this path, and only you can accept its responsibility. Cardij Ulven, will you take this challenge before you and follow in the footsteps of Skadi?”
My reply was swift, what more could I say. It was like being offered the keys to the kingdom.
“Yes, I will.” even to me my voice sounded true and strong, from such a small person.
“Then I bestow upon you the seal of Skadi, and with it all the power of our god and his eternal wisdom.” She bowed her head slowly, in the distance I could hear thunder once again, softer than before, it felt much less menacing, yet its timing made the events that much more powerful. The torches burning brightly on the oaken pillars around me began to flutter, the wind driving their flames toward the centre of the room, I watched motionless at the Gothi’s hands and face begun to glow, she held them towards me, and as I watched, as shape began to form before my young eyes, as golden stars twinkled in the cradle of her arms.
The shape grew slowly solid, its edges firming into a mass. The sparkles of light dwindled into the air, the thunderous roar of the sky calmed into the distance and the Gothi smiled gently and bowed toward me.
“I bestow upon you this gift of our God; it will serve only the keenest of minds, the sharpest of intellects and will suffer no fool. This cloak is imbued by Skadi himself, it will shroud you from your enemies, provide shelter when there is none and help you become one with that around you!”
Her arms stretched out toward me; slowly I took the cloak from her, without removing my eyes from her magical gaze. Gently I threw it around my back, and instantly could feel the power within.
Around me the elders, smiling proudly, began to lift the hoods of their cloaks, as they did, one by one they filtered into the dark surroundings, their faces staying for a split second more before vanishing into the cool night air without trace. I watched them disappear around me one by one, leaving only the Gothi and my father before me.
“He has a strong heart, the mind of a warrior and a keen eye, he will serve Midgard well, it is in your hands now” the Gothi spoke gently to my father while raising the hood of her cloak and dissolving into the night.
My father looked down upon me, still quivering from the events, but slowly calming as the sounds and sights around me returned to focus.
“And now my son, its time to show you Midgard’s true enemy, those who oppose our ways and beliefs. I speak not of the Drakulv or Svartalf, but the dwellers of foreign lands, those who choose the way of the Celt and Avalonian, it will be dangerous my son, but all who choose the path to protect Midgard must see with their own eyes what we face”
…
oh.. and shame on me for this very rude postcount raise 
very good i must say