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hysterialevi · 3 years

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Hjarta | Chapter 16

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

A WHILE LATER

TEARS OF YMIR

Sigurd trudged through the snow-veiled woods, wishing desperately that he could veer off this path the gods had constructed for him. His mind was trapped in a perpetual state of fear, and the thoughts racing through his head only seemed to grow louder with every step he took.

He could feel it in his heart that Ulfar spoke the truth. There was merit in the accusations he threw against Dag, and Sigurd had even seen the man’s treachery for himself. He made it quite clear that he wasn’t on their side with the way he manipulated the assault at Kjotve’s Fortress, and the prince could no longer ignore the reality that was standing right in front of him.

But even then, Sigurd’s gut twisted at the idea of causing any harm to Dag. His entire childhood was formed of memories between the two of them, and he still saw him as the same little boy he once loved all those years ago.

He remembered the days they’d spend running around in the wilderness, only to end up covered in mud by the time they returned home. He hadn’t forgotten the way Styrbjorn would scold them for their reckless behavior, and how they’d make the exact same mistakes immediately afterwards.

The joy they shared, the sorrows they experienced, the burdens they had to carry -- it all stayed with Sigurd to this very day. He loved Dag like a brother despite the conflicts between them, and the thought of banishing him from Midgard tore a hole inside his chest.

But he was a leader now. A future king. With Ulfar dead, Sigurd would have to step up and protect the people he left behind. His position as prince would no longer be a mere title, and he would have to do whatever it took to keep his clan safe.

Even if it meant making a sacrifice as great as this.

“We’re here.” Sigurd said bleakly, stopping in his tracks once the waterfall came into view. He took a deep breath and gazed at the dreary environment, unable to even recognize the nature surrounding him.

This place once served as a sanctuary for the prince. It used to be a safe haven where he could take refuge when the troubles of his world proved to be overwhelming, and he often found a sense of tranquility in its earthly embrace. It always seemed to breathe with the spirit of the gods, and part of Sigurd even believed they walked with him sometimes when he ventured down this path.

Today though, the forest was barren of any life. The tragedies of the war had burrowed themselves into its very marrow, and it almost felt as if it could sense what was about to happen. The air was leaden with a suffocating anchor of dread, and it only seemed to crush Sigurd more and more the further he progressed.

He didn’t want to kill Dag. Every fiber in his being was screaming at him to stop.

Part of even him was even considering simply exiling the man in order to avoid further bloodshed. Deep down though, he knew that wouldn’t be enough. He knew that Dag would most-likely run back into Kjotve’s arms once he broke free from the judgement of his clan, and cause their people a plethora of problems that they didn’t need.

It seemed like death was the only option here, and Sigurd hated himself for it.

“...Sigurd,” Dag said, approaching the man from behind. “Will you tell me what we’re doing now? Why have you brought us all the way out here? Is this about what happened between me and Ulfar?”

The prince kept his gaze on the view before him, leaving his hand close to his axe. His back was currently turned to the other man, and yet, he felt as if he could detect his every move.

“...Do you remember the day we met, Dag?” Sigurd asked. “All those years ago?”

The warrior noticed how his friend skirted the subject, but said nothing of it for now. “Of course. How could I forget? I was what, ten years old? Maybe younger? I had just given you a black eye during a training spar.”

Sigurd chuckled softly at the precious memory. “Indeed. And if I recall correctly, it wasn’t too long beforehand that I was boasting about how easily I’d be able to fell you. I was the king’s son, after all. Nothing could touch me.” The prince smirked. “...It seems that arrogance was my greatest enemy back then. The day I met you was the day I learned humility. It was the day I gained a brother.”

Dag leaned against a nearby tree, crossing his arms. “And do you still feel that way?”

The other man paused, his voice hardening with a cold edge. “...Yes. But I suspect that the sentiment is no longer mutual.”

Growing restless with anxiety, Sigurd finally decided to put this game to an end and shot an icy glare at his childhood friend, practically boring through his skull. He approached the older man and looked him in the eye, trying to keep his breath as steady as possible.

“...Dag,” he whispered, “you know how I feel about you. We may not share the same blood, but you are my family. No matter how distant we may grow, there will always be a link between us. And I will always see you as my brother. That’s why... I need you to tell me the truth.”

Sigurd took a few steps closer, barely shifting his gaze. “...Are you the traitor?”

Dag scoffed at the question and shook his head, reluctant to give a direct answer. “You can’t be serious. You actually believe in the nonsense Ulfar was spewing?”

“I believe his words held merit,” the prince persisted. “You can call it nonsense if you like, but that doesn’t change the fact that you stand as an accused man.”

The warrior stammered for a moment, taken aback by the preposterous notion. “What are you talking about, Sigurd? You were there! You saw what happened. I defeated Ulfar in honorable combat. I cleared my name. Isn’t that enough?”

“Enough for the Allfather perhaps, but not enough for me. Everything Ulfar said was true. The way you handled the assault nearly got all our people killed, and I know you well enough to know that you’re too smart to make such a grave mistake. You did it intentionally.”

Still, Dag remained in denial. “I don’t believe this. You would trust the word of a paranoid old man over someone you consider to be a brother?”

Sigurd raised his voice slightly, unable to hide his anger anymore. “I trust what I see! And over these past few weeks, I’ve seen you do nothing but traipse through the shadows like a thief in the night, hiding like coward whilst our men died on the battlefield. I saw you return from Kjotve’s Fortress without so much as a scratch on your armor, and I saw the apathy in your eyes when they fell on Thora’s corpse.”

The prince’s expression darkened with ire. “You claim you are innocent, but innocence always speaks for itself. I see no good reason why I should question Ulfar’s accusations, and I doubt you can give me one. So I’ll ask again--” he leaned in, “--are you the traitor?”

Dag rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at the waterfall, furrowing his brow in disbelief. It was evident that he had something to say, but the stone shackles of pride hindered his ability to come clean.

“How do you know Ulfar wasn’t trying to save his own skin by throwing me to the wolves? He was in a much more powerful position than I. He could’ve done anything he liked and gotten away with it!”

“What reason could Ulfar possibly have had to turn against Arngeir? You really think he would’ve been willing to endanger Thora’s life? Or Eivor’s? He saw them as his own children.”

“Who knows? All I’m saying is -- he was awfully quick to pass judgement on me. We had hardly set foot on Bjornheimr’s shores, and he was already prepared for a fight. The way I see it, Ulfar wanted to use me as a scapegoat. He was the jarl’s right-hand man, after all. He knew he could’ve said anything about me without raising suspicion. I mean, just look at how easy it was to fool you.”

Sigurd’s glare only sharpened at that. “You think I’ve been fooled, do you?”

“Am I wrong? I know you held Ulfar in high regard, but typically, the largest shadows are cast by those who stand the tallest. He may have been a good warrior, but that doesn’t mean--”

The prince shook his head in frustration. “--Enough, Dag! Enough with the lies. Enough with the deflection. Just give me a straight answer. I’m done running in circles with you.”

The other man fell silent, completely at a loss for words. “...You still don’t believe me, do you?”

Sigurd lowered his head in sorrow. “...I wish I could, Dag. Trust me. I wish I could. But if I’m going to keep this clan safe, I can’t allow anything to hinder my judgement. Not even when it concerns you.”

Dag let out a sigh and nodded in defeat, staring blankly at the ground. It was clear to him that his arguments were doing nothing in terms of swaying the prince’s mind, and he didn’t know what else he could say to divert the man’s skepticism.

“...I see.” He murmured, looking back up at Sigurd. His demeanor had completely shifted compared to when they first arrived at the waterfall, and a grim sense of treachery clung onto his shrewd face. “...Very well then, old friend. If that’s how you wish to do things.”

Dag pushed himself off the tree and straightened his posture, finally deciding to reveal the truth.

“...Indeed, your conviction is rightfully placed, Sigurd. I wasn’t sure how long I’d be able to keep up this facade, but I see no point in maintaining it any longer.”

The warrior paused for a brief moment, taking a deep breath.

“I was the one who warned Kjotve.” Dag confessed. “I was the one who assisted him when he ambushed Bjornheimr, and I was the one who told him to flee his fortress before our clans could arrive. I told him of this alliance.”

Sigurd’s heart instantly shattered upon hearing the confession, and his jaw clenched in rage as a spark of betrayal flared inside his chest. He knew his suspicions had to be correct, but even then, nothing could’ve prepared him for the immense disappointment he’d receive from a revelation such as this.

The prince wandered away from Dag in shock and began pacing along the waterfall’s edge, uncertain of how to respond.

“...And why exactly... did you do it?” Sigurd questioned, his tone alarmingly quiet. “What led you to commit such... foolish treason?”

“I did it for the good of our clan.” Dag answered monotonously. “I did it to protect us.”

The other man threw a puzzled glance at him, bewildered by his justification.

“To protect us?” Sigurd gestured to the distant village, storming towards the warrior. “Bjornheimr lies in a bed of its own ashes thanks to you! The jarl’s daughter has been murdered, and you have the nerve to act as if this was an act of heroism? I grow tired of your deception, Dag. Just tell me the truth. What is the real reason you did this?”

The traitor’s nose crinkled in envy, and a newfound sense of contempt twisted his expression. He was behaving in a manner that Sigurd had never seen before, and yet, the prince felt as if he had known this side of Dag for his entire life.

“We don’t need the Bear Clan,” Dag said. “All they’ve done is weaken us. They’ve even weakened you. Especially that boy.”

Sigurd cocked a brow. “Boy? What boy? You mean Eivor?”

“Yes. He’s turned you soft, Sigurd. Everyone can see it. Before we came to this forsaken village, you were a warrior. A leader. A man worthy of holding a crown. You led raids on our enemies, and you crushed anyone who dared threaten our people. You were a king in everything but name. But now? You’ve just become another pawn.”

“What are you talking about, Dag? How have I become a pawn?”

The traitor laughed. “Are you joking? I see the way you look at Eivor. That man has you wrapped around his finger. He’s distracting you from the war, and you’re allowing it to happen.”

The prince’s face was plastered with a look of dread. “You know about me and Eivor...? Who told you?”

Dag waved a dismissive hand. “No one needed to tell me. It’s as clear as day. You may be wed to Randvi, but we all know where your loyalties really lie. You’re only fighting this war for one reason, and that’s so you can take Eivor to bed while the rest of us do the hard work.”

Sigurd’s eyes snapped onto Dag with an iron grip, and his voice dropped to a dangerously low level.

“Watch... your tongue, snake.”

The other man chuckled. “The truth is painful, isn’t it? Nothing stings quite like the bite of a harsh reality you can’t accept. But please, by all means -- continue to ignore it. Ignore it like you ignore everything else, and let your kingdom crumble for your own selfish needs.”

Sigurd brushed off the traitor’s taunts and got straight to the point, eager to put this to rest. “So you’re a puppet for jealousy now? Is that it? You did all this... just because you envied Eivor’s position?”

A scoff escaped Dag’s lips. “Pfft. I want nothing that man has. Like I said before, I did this for the good of our people. Whether or not you choose to see it that way doesn’t change the fact that it’s true. The gods know this too.”

“The gods spit on oath-breakers like you! Odin has no need for men such as yourself in his company, and neither do I.”

“Then deliver your justice, my lord. Strike me down with the judgement that you deemed so righteous you had to hide it away from prying eyes. The people of Bjornheimr may not be able to see you here, but the Allfather does. And he will remember.”

Sigurd turned away from Dag and rested a firm hand on his axe, using every bit of his strength to stifle the tears that threatened to spill. He wanted nothing more than to scream at the gods for putting him in such an impossible situation, and he could already feel himself breaking down from what he was about to do.

But he had to keep his promise. He had to. Although no longer in this realm, Ulfar was depending on him to protect their clans, and Sigurd didn’t have the heart to deny the man his dying wish.

...But he loved Dag. In spite of all of his crimes, the prince still saw the traitor as the same boy he grew up with, and his memories of their time together only seemed to be resurfacing with every second he spent delaying the inevitable.

What was he going to do when the man was dead? Sigurd may have despised Dag for going behind his back, but a piece of his soul remained bound to him nonetheless. There was a link between them that couldn’t be broken, and the prince felt as if he was about to sever one of his own limbs.

A part of him would undoubtedly go with Dag once the man departed from this realm, and Sigurd couldn’t imagine himself ever getting it back.

He just prayed he would be able to forgive himself someday.

“You... you were my brother, Dag.” Sigurd said, his spirit collapsing with every word. “I loved you. I did. You turned my childhood into something that I’ll always hold dear. I’ll never forget the time we spent together, or the joy I’d feel when you were around. Those memories are something that no one will ever be able to take from me.” He tightened his grip on the axe. “But I can’t let you walk free from this. I can’t let you hurt my clan anymore. I... I have to keep my promise. I’m sorry.”

Yanking the weapon out of its sheathe, the prince lunged at Dag without saying another word and buried the axe in his chest, immediately causing the man to stiffen in his clutch. The two of them toppled over onto the snow after a single strike, and within seconds, the traitor was already gasping for air.

He writhed in Sigurd’s embrace like a worm on a hook and desperately tried to pry the blade away from his heart, but to no avail. The other man simply held him down and forcibly kept the axe in place, pushing it deeper and deeper into his torso as tears began streaming down his cheeks.

Sigurd couldn’t believe what he was doing. As a child, he always pictured himself leading their clan into a glorious victory that would forever grace the lips of bards across the kingdom, and spread into endless sagas for generations to come. He thought his role in the war would be one of grandeur just like in the tales his father often told him, and he believed his path to Valhalla would be laden with silver and gold.

But now that he was actually here... he was finally realizing just how torturous the nature of war really was. He wept at the sight of Dag’s life vanishing from his eyes, and his stomach churned at the feeling of the man’s blood staining his hands.

There was also the fact that the traitor died without an axe in his grip. He left it with Ulfar back in Bjornheimr, and thus, paved the way straight to Hel’s gates. His soul would forever evade the magnificence of the Corpse Hall, and a part of Sigurd crumbled at the thought of never being able to reunite with his friend again.

Dag was gone for good... and it was all his fault.

Letting go of the axe’s hilt, Sigurd allowed himself to relax and climbed off of Dag’s body, taking a seat beside him as a series of breaths fled from his lungs.

...He did it. He actually did it.

The traitor had been removed from their midst, and their clans would be able to proceed without worrying about betrayal. Kjotve would no longer have an ally inside their walls, and Gorm would give them the last step they needed before taking him down at last.

Sigurd supposed he should’ve been relieved now that things were finally in their favor, but all he felt was emptiness.

His closest friend lay defeated under the blade of his own axe, and his world remained shaken by the multiple losses it had just suffered. He experienced no pleasure in the face of this so-called victory, and the only thing he had left to hope for was the sight of Kjotve’s head.

He just wanted this war to end. He wanted the constant turmoil of these never-ending battles to become a thing of the past, and he wanted to cleanse the seas of the blood that stained their shores.

Sigurd dreamed of a future where people wouldn’t have to share his clan’s pain, but deep down, he feared it would never become a reality.

The war had already lasted for a couple decades, after all. He saw no reason why the gods would allow it to end anytime soon.

“Sigurd?” Someone said abruptly, dragging the prince back to his senses.

The man glanced upward from where he sat and gazed in the distance, only to find Eivor watching him from afar.

“Eivor...?” Sigurd whispered, quickly wiping his face dry. “What... what are you doing here?”

The blonde viking stepped out from the trees and approached his lover, careful not to distress him even further.

“I saw you leave with Dag earlier,” Eivor answered softly, still drained from the shock of Ulfar’s loss. “The two of you were gone for a while, so I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He paused for a second, allowing his eyes to wander towards Dag. “...You really killed him.”

The older man stared helplessly at the sky, peering into the canopy of branches swaying above him.

“...Yes. I did.” He said, his voice trembling slightly. “I had to.”

Sighing morosely, Eivor pushed his way through the mounds of snow and walked over to Sigurd, crouching down in front of him. He comforted the distraught prince by gently caressing his cheek, and flicked away some stray tears with a simple swipe of the thumb. Afterwards, the young man reached over to the axe protruding from Dag’s chest and carefully removed it, wiping it clean before laying it in Sigurd’s lap.

“You did the right thing. I know it wasn’t easy, but our clan will sleep better at night thanks to you.”

Sigurd loosely met Eivor’s gaze, entirely devoid of life. “...I feel like a monster. Dag was... he was my brother. I know everyone else saw him as a traitor, but to me, he was always that little boy I met in Fornburg.” His expression sank with grief. “...That little boy is dead now because of me. I killed him.”

Eivor held the prince’s face in his hands. “No, Sigurd. You didn’t kill that boy. Dag did. A long time ago.”

The redheaded warrior offered nothing but silence in response, causing Eivor to return to his feet.

“Come, my love.” He beckoned, reaching an arm out. “We should return to the village.”

Sigurd remained motionless on the ground, simply looking over at Dag’s body.

“Wait. Could we... bring him back with us? I’m aware of Dag’s crimes, but even then, I’d like to give him a proper burial.”

“Of course,” Eivor assured. “Many in the clan will question his presence at the funeral, but I’ll send someone to retrieve him once we return. Don’t worry. We won’t leave him behind.”

Sigurd propped himself up on one knee and grabbed the other man’s arm, rising from the snow. “Thank you, Eivor.”

The Wolf-Kissed guided his lover away from the waterfall and called for his horse, leading the prince back home.

“Come on.” He whispered lovingly. “Let’s get you out of here.”

#hjarta #assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #eivor wolfsmal #eivor wolfkissed #eivor varinsson #male eivor #sigurd styrbjornson #sigurd x male eivor #ac valhalla fanfic

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nerdiests · 4 years

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heroes always get remembered (but you know legends never die)

okay FIRST OFF i’d like to wish a HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY to the wonderful @sillus !! loaf, i adore you so much and i know i’ve said this waaaaaay too much over the past ten-ish hours, but you deserve it!!

second off, another @linkeduniverse fic!! woo!! longest one i’ve written, too!! yeehaw lads!! check it out on ao3 under the same name!!

warning for: violence, character death

Legend hadn’t seen what others would call a “gift from the goddesses” as one. If it was any type of gift, it’d be an accursed one, because that’s all Legend saw it as. A curse. He’d never been a devout follower of any of the goddesses, despite being the chosen hero of the era. Was this his punishment? Maybe. But not for not believing, that he was sure of. What he was being punished for, though. That was the mystery.

He never wanted to tell the others about it. He had his secrets that he held close to his chest, as did everyone else. Legend kept a few things - no, a lot of things - a secret. The entirety of his venture on Koholint, for one. His ability to become a painting. And his curse. If Legend had it his way, none of them would ever find out about it. He could count on one hand how many people knew about it. Zelda, Ravio (for some ungodly reason), and... Marin.

She was the one he’d told of his own will. He’d decided, months into his stay on Koholint, that he would tell her. She had listened, and she had believed him and that was the crucial thing. But now she was gone. And all Legend had left were his double, his sister, and himself.

Legend was a secretive man. But this secret was one he would keep until the demise of everyone, except his own. Because that was the secret. Legend couldn’t die.

He didn’t know why this was, he just knew that it was true. He’d discovered that fact on his first adventure, when he’d been in the wilderness and got into a scuffle he shouldn’t have walked away from. He should’ve died in those woods, when he was thirteen and young and bright eyed and foolish. He remembers falling to the forest floor. He remembers feeling fainter and fainter as the edges of his vision blurred and the ground felt damp beneath him with something other than the dew on the grass. And he remembers waking up in that exact same spot, a hole torn in his tunic and a faint scar over where he’d been stabbed - oh god he’d been stabbed. But he’d walked away from that. Legend didn’t know how or why, but he had.

The rest of his adventures passed and he grew better at avoiding fatal blows, as any experienced adventurer would. He went through six adventures - one that seemed like a fever dream but he still had the dress and everything else to prove it - and his secret had stayed locked up in the depths of his mind, only ever being told to one person and being revealed to two others. And Legend wouldn’t reveal this secret of his. It wouldn’t be something ever coming to light, not if he had his way.

With the start of his seventh adventure with the rest of him (and that was a weird sentence to say, wasn’t it?) but also not him, Legend knew none of them could ever find out. He would never let it slip. Besides, as Four had put it, they were all sitting on secrets. Some of them just had more than others did.

Legend knew that he had the most. He talked of six adventures, but he hid the contents of his fourth from them all. He didn’t talk about his Zelda, about how she was his younger sister. His twin, who he hadn’t known existed until the end of his first adventure. He refused to talk about the time he’d fought what looked like four different copies of Four on his first adventure within the Pyramid in the Dark World. He didn’t talk about the Moon Pearl and what it did. He didn’t talk about when he’d been cursed to turn into a painting, and why he wasn’t stuck as one. And he kept his most important secret so close to his chest that it was barely obvious it existed.

Legend was a secretive man. They all knew that. Unlike Sky or Wind or Hyrule, Legend gave the bare minimum on everything he’d done. It wasn’t their business. Yes, he was a Link and he’d saved not only his Hyrule multiple times, but four other countries as well (they didn’t need to know about Koholint, no one did). They didn’t need to know much else. Hell, he didn’t even intend for them to find out about Ravio, but it happened. But he wouldn’t be letting any more secrets slip through the cracks. Not if he could help it. But they all made it ridiculously hard to keep anything a secret. He’d caught Wind trying to snoop through his journal when he’d left it unattended not just one time, but multiple times. Thank the goddesses that he wrote it in a language that no one else could ever read. The perks of being the only person to know a language, he supposed.

What Legend hated about being a secretive man, though, was the unending questions he would get from everyone. Most of them from their youngest, but there was a healthy amount of questions from everyone in their motley gathering of Links. He tended to dodge his way around them most of the time, and the times he couldn’t he would work his way to a subject change. Legend knew that some of them - namely Time, Twilight, Four, and Warriors - had noticed him dodging answers to questions anyone asked, but none of them called him out on it. For that, at least, Legend was grateful. Sometimes… You get asked questions you don’t want answers to.

One of these days, Legend knew his secrets would spill. Maybe all at once, maybe one at a time, but they would come out. For now, though, Legend would keep all of them locked away until such a time that he deemed fit to let them come out. And that time would be never, if he had his way. He knew that wouldn’t be the case, but he could hope. Hoping could only get him so far, but he’d do it nonetheless.

Though. There were certain times that would test his patience. Like what the rest of the group was doing now. Wind was eagerly talking about some of the events of his first adventure - the final fight with Ganondorf, if Legend was hearing correctly - and a solid half of the group was listening in eagerly. Hyrule, Four, Sky, and Wild were all enraptured by the story, and Warriors and Twilight were both listening with interest. Time wasn’t facing the group, but Legend could tell he was listening in as well. They’d been trading stories about their adventures for the past hour now, starting with Wild talking about the time he’d been flung off a cliff by a giant rock monster he’d called a Talus, then Sky had talked about the time he’d ventured through a flooded forest in search of things he said were called “Tadtones”, then Warriors had offhandedly brought up the time he’d singlehandedly taken down a “King Dodongo.” From how Warriors talked about it, it seemed like it was a big deal and all, but Legend had taken on a Dodongo by himself when he was fourteen. If it was as easy as that battle had been, Legend didn’t think it’d be all that hard to take on a “King Dodongo.”

But now Wind was wrapping up his story - him and his Zelda (he’d said Tetra was her name) had ended up getting saved by Tetra’s pirate crew as they floated in the ocean above the flooded ruins of the Hyrule of old - and everyone would be expecting another one. He expected Hyrule or Four to pick up the slack, but as Wind finished talking his eyes fell on Legend, and there was a spark of interest there. Oh no.

“Hey, Legend! Why don’t you tell a story?” Wind asked. The rest of the group all turned towards him, and Legend blanked for a couple seconds. This was. Not good. No sir, not at all. How could he put this…

“No,” Legend replied simply. Wind’s face fell, and there were a few confused looks from the others.

“Why not?” Hyrule asked simply, equal parts disappointment and curiosity. Goodness, some of them could just act like children sometimes. Legend sighed. He wouldn’t get any writing in his journal done tonight. He was going to go to bed soon anyways. Snapping his journal shut and securing it in his bag, Legend locked eyes with Hyrule.

“I don’t want to,” he said, shrugging and attempting to put on a nonchalant air. It succeeded pretty well, based on the pout Wind was giving him. He looked back down at his bag, but he knew that everyone was still looking at him.

“C’mon, Legend. You never tell any stories and you’re always vague about everything!” Wind said. Were Legend and Time the only real adults here? Twilight and Warriors might be older than he was, but neither of them really acted their ages all the time. ...Actually, scratch his assumption. He was the only adult here, Time could be such a little shit sometimes.

“Maybe I don’t want to talk about it, hm?” Legend replied, looking up for a second to raise an eyebrow before looking back down at his pack. He was going to idly reorganize everything in his pack until they stopped looking at him.

“You’re such a downer,” Wild said, groaning loudly. There was a hum of agreement from Wind, and Legend just shrugged. Did he look like he cared about that? He cared about not telling anyone his damn secrets!

“But why do you not want to talk about it?” Wind asked. Legend scoffed.

“I don’t. Is that not a good enough reason for you? Or do you not want to-” Legend was cut off by another voice, one that he wasn’t necessarily expecting but was welcome nonetheless.

“No need to badger him, Wild, Wind,” Twilight cut in, and Legend glanced up at that. Twilight wasn’t who he was expecting to come to his defense, but he wasn’t expecting anyone so Twilight was better than no one, he supposed. He locked eyes with Twilight for a few seconds, who gave him an understanding look, before turning back to Wind and Wild and started talking to them about why they shouldn’t push people into doing things they don’t want to do and how they wouldn’t like anyone to do that to them, would they?

While Twilight was doing that, Legend turned to Time. Time raised an eyebrow, and Legend gestured towards the edge of the campsite they’d claimed as their own. Time shrugged. Legend knew that Time was set to be on first watch that night, but at this point he wanted to get away from the rest of the camp. And with Time’s approval to take his watch shift, Legend shifted a bit, before getting up and heading out a bit further from the camp. The only people that actually noticed him walking away were Hyrule, Warriors, and Sky. But none of them said a word, and for that Legend was grateful.

For a while, Legend’s reluctance to talk about anything in detail from any of his adventures was put out of the group’s collective consciousness. They didn’t talk about their adventures or anything like that, just about nothing in particular. Stuff they missed, things they were going to do after their adventure. Warriors in particular spent what Legend thought was way too much time waxing poetic about his boyfriend, but it kept spirits high.

Eventually, though. The tension that was created during Legend’s refusal to talk about his adventures - and he didn’t need to talk about his adventures, they should respect his privacy as much as they wanted their own privacy respected - would build up and up and up and it would snap. Legend didn’t know when it would happen, but he knew it would. He really didn’t want it to, he didn’t. But it would. So Legend tried to avoid it. He didn’t want to have an argument pop up and end with him snapping at someone.

But what Legend hadn’t noticed was Hyrule keeping an eye on him. Watching him, trying to make his own guesses at things. Legend, who was too preoccupied trying to ignore tension building up in one source completely missed the other source of it.

It all came to a head about a month after Legend’s quasi-argument with Wind and Wild, when they’d just switched over from Four’s Hyrule to Wild’s. Legend had semi-relaxed, thinking that the tension that had built up had died down to some extent, but because he’d only been looking in one place for tension in their group that would be his ruin.

The evening it happened, Legend could recall the most minute of details. There was a slight chill in the air, and dew on the grass just outside the cave they took refuge in from the rain that had just ended. Wild was having a fair amount of trouble starting a fire with the damp wood he found, even with the magical help that the flameblade he had provided him. Twilight had been swearing under his breath with his tongue poking from between his teeth as a piece of charcoal glided over the page. Warriors was writing a letter, tapping his pencil against his cheek as he thought. Wind and Four were chatting about how odd the weather was in Wild’s Hyrule, and they managed to drag Time and Sky into their discussion. And Legend himself? He’d been sorting a few things in his pack, because he needed something to do with his hands and he wasn’t risking pulling his journal out. But Hyrule hadn’t been doing anything. At the time, Legend hadn’t thought about it much. But in hindsight, he should have.

“Hey Legend? I have a question for you,” Hyrule said, catching Legend off guard. He nearly dropped his boomerang onto his foot from where he held it. He didn’t bother with putting up the boomerang, instead opting to put it in his lap, and ignored all the eyes on him and Hyrule.

“Yeah? What is it?” Legend asked, trying to seem nonchalant. This wasn’t a situation he wanted to be in. He had no clue what kind of question Hyrule would be asking.

“You always talk about your second and third adventures, and your sixth, but you don’t go into a lot of detail about your first, or your fourth, or your fifth. Why?” Hyrule asked. Dammit. Legend knew Hyrule was perceptive. Of course he was, Hyrule came after him in the timeline and living in a world like theirs you had to be.

“Because it’s my business. Is it not enough to know that I saved Hyrule twice, and multiple other places?” Legend replied. If he could just… Evade this line of questioning, it’d be better. But considering that the seven other members of their travelling party had all stopped what they were doing to listen to this play out, that wasn’t likely at all. So he’d have to try and meet this line of questioning head on.

“But you always evade every single question we ask about it! You don’t need to be deliberately cagey, we’ve all dealt with weird stuff on our adventures!” Hyrule said, his voice growing louder as he spoke.

“Maybe I just don’t want to talk about it! Did you think about that, Hyrule?” Legend fired back, reaching to move his sword a bit closer to him. His fight or flight instinct was ready to kick in and if he needed to run, he would. He didn’t care how running from his problems would make him look - and it’s not like he was running from his problems, just some questions he didn’t want to answer! That was all!

“Sometimes you need to share more than the bare minimum, Legend! That’s all you’ve given us about half of your quests, that you saved Hyrule or Hytopia or Holodrum or Labrynna or wherever you were with that fourth adventure of yours, but you’ve said next to nothing else about them!” This time, Hyrule was shouting. His face had gone a bit red, and Legend knew that his was likely in a similar state.

“Well… What about Time and Wind? They’re deliberately obtuse about facts surrounding their adventures! Wind doesn’t talk about how his second adventure doesn’t even make sense, and Time’s just full of secrets!” Legend replied, a bit flustered.

“This isn’t about them, it’s about you, Legend!” Hyrule shouted.

“I don’t give a fuck if it’s just about me, it’s bullshit that you’re focusing on me and ignoring other people that’re doing the exact same damned thing!” Legend shouted back, grabbing his sword sitting next to him with one hand and his boomerang with the other. He stood up, and so did Hyrule. They stared for a moment, and Legend opened his mouth to speak. Twilight beat him to it though.

“...Hey, no need to get so heated, we can jus-” Twilight’s words were interrupted by Legend whirling around with his sword and pointing it at him. Now that caught everyone off guard. Wild made to move, but Time gave him a minute shake of his head.

“Shut the fuck up, you don’t get to speak. You’re keeping secrets too, and no one fucking calls you out on it either! You’re so fucking obvious about it too, and that’s the worst part! This is bullshit! All of it! Bullshit!” Legend yelled. His arm holding the sword was shaking because Legend was shaking with rage, and it was extremely lucky for Twilight that Legend was far enough away that the sword was nowhere near him. Legend’s arm holding the sword slowly fell back to his side, and he turned back towards Hyrule.

“Right now, I know two things. You’re calling me out for not sharing, when every single one of us has secrets we don’t want to share, but you’re asking me to share what I’d rather not? That’s hypocrisy right there!” Legend barked out a harsh laugh, his eyes narrowing.

“The other thing that I know? I don’t want to fucking be here.” With those words, Legend stalked off, heading out of the cave, out of the small clearing immediately outside the cave, and into the woods surrounding them. He didn’t care where he went, as long as it was away from the rest of them. Fucking hypocrites, Four had said they all had secrets and everyone had been respecting everyone’s privacy, but they try and invade his personal life? Fuck that.

Hyrule, meanwhile, was staring at the empty space Legend had been standing a few seconds prior, breathing heavily. So was everyone else, as a matter of fact.

“Well. That escalated quickly,” Four said, breaking the silence that had been put in place by Legend’s angry leave.

“I was… Not expecting to have a sword pointed at my face today,” Twilight mumbled, almost to himself. Warriors, from where he was seated nearby Twilight, reached over to give Twilight a pat on the shoulder.

“You’ll get used to expecting the unexpected sword pointing at your face. Don’t worry,” Warriors said simply, and Twilight blustered at that.

“What do you mean, get used to it? Have you had people unexpectedly pointing swords at you?” Twilight asked, voice full of concern. Warriors just shrugged, and Twilight watched him incredulously. Hyrule, meanwhile, had finally calmed himself down sufficiently and had turned towards the group at large.

“Are… Are none of you worried about Legend?” Hyrule asked. No one really paid much attention to that, but Twilight turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow.

“You’re worrying about the guy that you just got into a yelling match with?” Twilight asked, skeptical. Hyrule nodded a few times.

“He’s… He’s like family, Twilight. Might get into arguments but you’ll worry about them regardless,” Hyrule said. Twilight gave a glance at… Warriors, strangely, before looking back at Hyrule and nodding.

“I get that. But he needs to cool off a bit. You go and find him now and you’ll both work yourselves into another argument. He’ll either come back here, or you’ll go out and find him in an hour or two,” Twilight said. Hyrule knew Twilight was right on some level, but he was still going to fret about it. About Legend. He’d gone out into the forest and Legend wasn’t familiar with Wild’s Hyrule! He knew he’d just got into an argument with him and he’d been the reason Legend had stalked off like that, but he didn’t want Legend to get hurt! Hyrule wouldn’t wish harm on anyone.

Unbeknownst to Hyrule, he’d started pacing around the cave they were in. He just walked back and forth, from the cave entrance back to where Twilight sat. Back and forth and back and forth and back. Warriors, Four, Wind, and Twilight watched him as he paced, seemingly unaware that he was.

“I’m going to go after him,” Hyrule said after a substantial amount of time had passed. Twilight laughed.

“Good thing, too. You’ve been pacing for the past twenty minutes. Wild thinks he’ll get a fire lit soon, so you’ve got two hours,” Twilight said. Hyrule balked.

“I’ve been pacing?” he asked, incredulous. At that, Four and Wind started laughing.

“You really didn’t notice?” Four asked. Hyrule shook his head, and that only got Four and Wind to laugh louder. Hyrule pouted at the two of them and turned back to Twilight.

“Do you think that Wild would have any idea where Legend went?” Hyrule asked. Before Twilight could speak, Wild piped up from where he was holding his flameblade next to the wood to dry it out.

“No clue. I didn’t get a good look at where he was running when he went into the woods, so I can’t give any guesses,” Wild said, tilting the angle of the sword a bit to get it closer to the actual wood without touching it. Hyrule frowned, looking out at the forest for a moment, before grabbing his sword and shield. He hesitated for a moment, before grabbing the rest of his pack as well. Legend might go and get himself hurt.

“I’ll be back. With Legend,” Hyrule said, before walking out of the cave and off into the forest where he’d seen Legend run. With any luck, he’d be able to find Legend in time for dinner, and be able to apologize for putting him on the spot like that. He didn’t mean for everything to get that loud. Or that confrontational. Maybe… Maybe he should’ve asked that question when it was just the two of them. It might’ve gone better that way.

“Goddessdamned bullshit,” Legend grumbled to himself, marching angrily through the forest. His knuckles were white around the hilt of his sword, and every tree he passed by he’d smack with his boomerang. It was a bit nicer than punching each tree he came across, because it wasn’t ever nice to have your fist in a bloody mess. Legend knew from experience.

“Calling me out in front of the whole fucking group, invading my privacy and ignoring the fact that I said I didn’t want to fucking talk about it, goddesses be damned,” Legend growled, smacking another tree repeatedly. His boomerang cut a deep gash into the bark as it slammed into the tree over and over. Eventually, Legend stopped, if only because he’d knocked his knuckles against the tree instead of his boomerang.

“Can’t they respect what I want to do? No? Bullshit,” Legend said, shaking the hand he’d accidentally smacked the tree with and leaving the boomerang stuck inside the tree for a few seconds, before grabbing it and continuing to stomp his way through the forest, ignoring all the sticks that snapped underfoot. Legend wasn’t exactly of the mind that there could be enemies in the woods, he was just being angry for the sake of being angry. In the back of his mind he knew that whoever would come to find him could find him pretty easily with his trail of trees with scratches all over them.

With a huff, Legend smacked the next tree, letting the boomerang get lodged deep in the wood. When he went to go pull the boomerang from the wood, though, he found that he couldn’t.

“You’re shitting me, no!” Legend said angrily, yanking on the boomerang again. It refused to budge. He didn’t even bother with trying to yank on it again, instead moving to grab his sword. With a yell, Legend slammed the blade into the tree, right at the join where the boomerang met the wood. With an angry cracking noise, the tree started to teeter away from him, before falling over. His boomerang fell the opposite way, finally freed from the confines of its wooden prison. He took a moment to let his anger dissipate and smirked at the tree that had dared to try and take his boomerang.

Now that his problem was solved and his head had cooled slightly, Legend surveyed the area around him. He was in the middle of nowhere. Brilliant. He could probably find his way back to camp at this point, but he didn’t particularly feel like heading back there. To him, it felt like he’d be crawling back to ask for forgiveness, and that wasn’t what he was doing. So Legend marched on.

As he walked, the sun started to sink lower on the horizon. Legend really didn’t want to be stuck outside when it was dark out, but if that was what would happen, then so be it. He’d seen a few apple trees along his route, and he could eat some of those and sleep up in one of the trees. He’d slept up in trees on his previous adventures when he was down on rupees, he could manage it for the night. They’d just switched Hyrules that day, so there wasn’t any reason to worry about them switching over with Legend so far off. If anything, he’d probably end up coming back the next morning.

Sighing to himself, Legend sat down next to the tree he’d felled in his boomerang rage - boomerage, if you would. If he really was going to spend his night out here, he might as well try and start getting those apples he saw on the trees he’d walked by a while back. So Legend started retracing his steps, following the gashes on the trees back towards camp. He’d noticed a small grove with some apple trees near it in his haze of rage. That’d be the perfect place to pick up a few apples to munch on, and if he could find somewhere with fresh water he’d be even better off.

Legend started humming quietly as he walked, trying to fill the relative silence around him. The woods were too quiet for his tastes - no birdsong, even this late in the evening, and the crickets hadn’t started up yet, so he found it odd - so Legend filled the woods with songs he’d learned over his years of travelling. Some folksongs from Labrynna or Holodrum, a haunting melody best accompanied with a piano and drums he’d picked up in Subrosia, a few jaunty barsongs he’d learned from Lorule, and even the tune from the clothing shop in Hytopia. The silence lessened, with Legend filling the trees around him with the song that the birds seemed to not pick up.

What really threw Legend off was the lack of wildlife around him. He’d at least expected to come across a deer or two, maybe some wild boar, but he didn’t see anything of the sort. It really threw him off, but he didn’t let that show on his face. It plagued his thoughts, but he wasn’t going to let his emotions win over his face too.

In the middle of his not-so-swift hike back to the grove, something Legend saw made him pause. A few platforms made of flimsy wood and bones, some overturned logs, a big campfire, some wooden crates and metallic boxes, and a few weapons tossed around on the ground. Legend glanced back at the trees he was walking by. Yeah, he’d passed by this camp on his angry march out to wherever he’d ended up.

“How the hell did I not get spotted?” Legend asked, moving to duck behind one of the larger trees. He hadn’t gotten the best glimpse at the camp itself, but he didn’t want to get caught in a battle he wasn’t prepared for. All he had was his sword and his boomerang, he didn’t have any of his other items. Hell, he didn’t have any of his medallions or rings or anything, because he’d taken them all off to sort through them! He wasn’t even wearing his tunic, he was just in the green undershirt! Getting into a fight now would be the worst case scenario, even if he did have the advantage of coming back from literally anything they could throw at him. Well, there were a few things he was pretty sure even he couldn’t survive, but he didn’t want to test that.

Peering around from behind the tree again, Legend noticed something. The camp was… Extremely empty. Nothing was even close to it that was alive that wasn’t him, and Legend wasn’t necessarily sure he wanted to find out why that was. But if nothing was in the camp… Legend could just go on past and not worry about anything. So he moved out from behind the tree and started walking, when a truly delectable smell caught his attention. His head whipped around, and Legend’s eyes focused in on the source of the smell - a huge cut of meat roasting above the campfire. How had he not noticed it before?

“Maybe I could…” Legend murmured to himself, taking stock of the situation. The camp was empty. Theoretically, all the enemies that had called this camp home could’ve all been killed ages ago, but that cut of meat looked fairly fresh. So the monsters all had to be around here somewhere, though Legend was guessing they weren’t that nearby. If they were, he would’ve noticed them in his rage-blinded march through the woods. Or, at least he hoped he would’ve noticed.

After a few seconds of thinking, Legend decided that the benefits of grabbing that prize cut of meat outweighed the disadvantages and he quickly made his way into the camp, stepping over the weapons he saw. The enemies in this camp wouldn’t be back before he made off with his prize, anyways.

As Legend reached out to take the cut of meat, he grinned to himself. He was getting some wonderful meat without having to do any work to get it. And even though he didn’t have anything to eat with that wasn’t his hands, Legend was happy that he at least had this. Although, his good mood wasn’t going to last. Because right as his fingers brushed against the cut - a bit dry, but he’d had worse - there was a loud roar from across the clearing. Legend’s head snapped up, and he saw a small army of bokoblins and moblins - all native to Wild’s Hyrule, and all of them in silver or gold colors.

“Mother fucker,” Legend swore loudly, giving up on his half-baked plan of pretending he didn’t exist and jumping away from the fire. He took stock of his situation. The group numbered ten - eight bokoblins, two moblins, half of the bokoblins gold and the other half silver and both moblins silver-colored as well - and although half of them didn’t carry weaponry, both of the moblins held a weapon of some sort. One carried a sword, and the other held a claymore, both of what Wild had called the “royal” variety.

“I am so screwed. Fuck you, Hylia,” Legend muttered to himself, his grasp on his sword tightening as he lifted it up in front of him. Guess he would be getting into a fight today. Brilliant. As the bokoblins started running at him - admittedly a bit stiltedly - Legend lifted up his sword and tucked his boomerang into his belt.

“Bring it, you little shits,” Legend said, more to hype himself up than to intimidate bokoblins. The only thing you really needed to intimidate bokoblins was having a weapon twice the size of yourself (according to Wild, at any rate). Unfortunately, all Legend had was his tempered sword, so that would have to do.

Everything was a whirlwind around him as the fighting started. Most of the bokoblins had clubs or spears of some sort - stay out of range of the spears even if they look like they’re made of wood and bone, those splinter, don’t want to get stuck on one of those - but there were two bokos carrying bows, one carrying a sword, and one of the moblins held a claymore. Bad news for Legend, who had to keep up a constant fervor of ducking and trying to get hits in when he could. If he had his shield he’d allow himself to get more daring with his attacks, but as it was he was already on the defensive. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted another attempt to bludgeon him with a gigantic spiked bat, and Legend snapped himself from his thoughts. No time to think.

He spun out of the way of the bat, started whirling his sword around, and sprung away the moment he felt his sword hit something. One of the silvers fell to the ground, its head detached from its body. Legend didn’t even pause, keeping up with his assault on the rest of the monsters.

One sword swing to counter the stab of a spear here, one duck away from a sword there, and a counterattack swiftly to follow that. Legend was developing a rhythm. Swing, duck, spin, slash, skid. It was a mark to Legend’s fighting ability that he managed to get a few cuts from the sword carried by one of the gold bokos and a couple nicks from close calls from arrows. There was a long gash on the left side of his tunic, and Legend thought that absentmindedly he’d have to repair that before going back to camp. He didn’t want to worry anyone.

Although that worry was all for naught, when he heard an extremely familiar cry of worry.

“Legend!” Snapped from his rhythm of movement, Legend looked over to see Hyrule running straight at him. Because of this, he missed the club swinging around towards his already-injured side. As he opened his mouth to yell at Hyrule to leave, he saw Hyrule’s eyebrows raise almost comically, before he was thrown across the clearing. His side felt like it was on fire. He still had his sword in his hand surprisingly, and thankfully his boomerang had been tucked into his belt on his other side. Reaching over to touch where the club had barrelled into him, his fingers came away damp and red. Almost as an afterthought to the pain he felt in his side, Legend had a thought. Well, now his shirt would definitely need to be repaired.

“Legend!” The worried cry of his name snapped him out of his somewhat addled thoughts. Oh, right. Hyrule was here. Hovering over him as the bokoblins and moblins started to process that neither of their quarries were present. They’d notice where the two of them were soon enough, Legend knew. Despite this, Legend shoved at Hyrule without an ounce of urgency as he started wringing his hands.

“Oh goddesses, I threw my pack off to the side and that’s where all the potions were, this isn’t good,” Hyrule muttered worriedly, and Legend shoved at him again.

“I can still fight, stop your worrying,” Legend replied, grabbing his sword and using it as extra support to get himself off the ground. Hyrule gave him a worried look, and Legend rolled his eyes.

“If you’re so worried, we can always fight close to one another,” Legend said. This didn’t appear to assuage Hyrule’s fears, but he nodded.

“That way, at least, I can cover your bad side with my shield,” Hyrule said, more to assure himself than to assure Legend of anything. Legend cracked a grin, hoping to help Hyrule feel a little bit better.

“Yeah. Let’s get rid of these little shits,” Legend said, taking his sword out of the ground and standing on slightly unsteady legs. He didn’t need them to be steady as long as they worked. Taking a deep breath, he stood next to Hyrule hefted up his sword, and that is when the monsters noticed where the two were.

“Get ready, Hyrule,” Legend murmured. Hyrule only nodded, lifting up his own sword and shield with a grim expression. They would have to put their all into this, Legend thought. And with nary a second to spare afterwards, the monsters were on them.

Legend and Hyrule worked cohesively, fighting back to back as the bokoblins surrounded them. Legend ended up having to catch the strikes from some of the clubs the bokoblins held with the blade of his sword to make sure those attacks wouldn’t hit Hyrule. And Hyrule made sure to catch all the arrows from the archer Legend hadn’t managed to take out on his shield. They all fell to the ground, with some of the arrows snapping. Legend took care to avoid the arrowheads, because even if the bows were poorly crafted, the arrows themselves were not. He didn’t want to have one get stuck in his boot, because that’d be a pain in the ass to remove.

As the duo whittled at the bokoblins circling around them, Legend kept an eye on the moblins behind them. They hadn’t charged in yet, which Legend thought was odd. He knew that the moblins knew that they weren’t friendly, but they weren’t attacking. Yet.

“Those moblins are acting odd!” Legend called out, blocking another swipe from a club with the flat of his blade before stabbing forward with his sword. Hyrule caught another arrow on his shield, swinging out his own blade shortly after.

“What do you mean odd?” Hyrule shouted back. They might be close to one another, but the noises of monsters around them mid-battle didn’t make for easy conversation.

“They’re not attacking even though all these bokos are! And that has suspicious written all over it!” Legend replied in kind as he managed to stab one of the golds in the stomach. It fell to the ground as it squealed and succumbed to the various cuts Legend had inflicted. There was an angry yell from the bokoblin next to it, and Legend quickly swiped his sword out at the source of the noise. The yell was cut off as Legend’s sword swiftly cut through the silver’s throat, causing it to collapse to the ground.

“They might be biding their time!” Hyrule called back as a gurgling noise came from behind him. Legend knew he’d taken out two before Hyrule arrived, and with the most recent additions that meant their chances were closer to 2 to 1 than 4 to 1. Legend liked those odds, he thought. But of course, right as Legend had his thought, the odds turned to most definitely not be in their favor. Thanks, Hylia.

“Shit,” Hyrule swore as the moblins lumbered over to them, their swords at the ready. Legend’s eyebrows rose. Hyrule, swearing? Damn. Didn’t know he could do that.

“Shit’s right, Hyrule!” Legend replied, locking his eyes on the moblins as they rushed - well, about as much as a moblin could rush - over to their battle. One ambled over to Legend’s side, the other to Hyrule’s. There was a sickening crunch as the moblin stepped on one of the heads of its fallen comrades, and Legend had to take a breath to prevent himself from gagging. Disgusting. Shaking his head the smallest amount, Legend hefted his sword up to block a swing from the moblin - this one had the sword, so the other had to have the claymore - and barely managed to prevent himself from falling over. Why did he think he could block a moblin’s sword with his own when he was already standing on unsteady legs? He didn’t know.

“Watch out for that claymore, Hyrule!” Legend called, moving a bit closer to the moblin. He didn’t hear Hyrule’s affirmative, but he assumed that Hyrule had heard. The moblin swung its sword again, and this time Legend ducked under the swing, stabbing forward with his sword after the moblin’s sword passed over his head. There was a mighty roar in response, and Legend yanked his sword from the moblin’s stomach as it swung its sword again, and Legend barely managed to duck.

Chancing a glance behind him, Legend’s eyes widened. He ducked as the moblin in front of him swung its sword again, but his eyes were locked on the moblin holding the claymore. Hyrule was moving left and right and left and right again, trying desperately to avoid the heavy handed swings the monster was capable of. Not only that, Hyrule was trying to avoid the arrows from that damned archer. Legend reluctantly tore his eyes away, managing to get into the moblin’s space and getting a second stab into its gut. The moblin let out a mighty roar, and Legend angrily stabbed it again, putting more force behind it. As he yanked his sword out and the moblin roared even louder, he heard a cry.

Whipping around, Legend saw Hyrule with an arrow sticking out of his leg. Hyrule faltered right as the moblin lifted its claymore, and Legend knew exactly what he needed to do. Ignoring the other enemies around them, Legend sprinted to Hyrule and shoved him out of the way. Just in time, too. The moblin’s claymore swung down, and Legend was in agony. He heard seams ripping in his shirt, and chanced a look down. Oh. Now that was deep. There was a diagonal gash along his chest, and he was losing blood at a very rapid rate.

“Legend!” He heard an agonized scream as his knees gave out and he fell onto his back. His vision was fading out rapidly, as the grass below him started to grow damp and warm. He knew it was his own blood. Almost absentmindedly, he heard the crackling of thunder out of nowhere, and what he could see went teal. Oh. Hyrule must’ve cast a spell. Which one was that again…? He blinked, and he could see a blurry face in front of him.

“Legend, Legend c’mon… No!” A familiar voice cried, and Legend let himself smile. Of course Hyrule would worry. But he didn’t need to. He tried to lift up his arm, but it wouldn’t move.

“I’ll… Be fine, ‘rule,” Legend said, coughing. There was something warm on his face. The darkness was encroaching on all sides, and the last thing he saw before it all faded out was the pink and orange and yellow of the slowly darkening sky.

When Legend’s eyes fluttered back open, his vision was blurry. There was a lot of green around him, and he could feel something damp underneath him. And he could hear sobbing. For a moment, he was caught off-guard, because there wasn’t anyone around that would be sobbing? Who was sobbing then? It was baffling, until Legend remembered. Oh. Yeah. He’d gone and died on Hyrule, who didn’t know. Well.

“Hyrule..?” Legend croaked, and wow his voice sounded horrible. He’d need to either drink something or wash his mouth out. Not at all to his surprise, there was a high pitched scream and Legend’s vision had a sword point front and center.

“What the fuck,” Hyrule said, voice cracking in the middle of his sentence. Legend opened his mouth to speak again, when the sword’s point fell and as Legend’s vision cleared up a bit more, he could see Hyrule on his knees with his sword next to him. His face was red and his eyes were puffy and his voice was a bit hoarse. Legend opened his mouth to speak, but Hyrule beat him to it.

“What the fuck was that Legend? You died!” Hyrule shouted. His voice cracked again, and Legend winced slightly. That was louder than he was expecting. This time, when Legend made to speak, he wasn’t interrupted.

“I… It’s a long story,” Legend said, coughing after he spoke. He really needed water if he was going to talk. Hyrule reached over and passed him something. Water flask. Legend took a few sips, spitting out the first sip with a bit of blood and swallowing the rest. The water went down tasting of copper. He coughed a few more times, before sitting up.

“We’ve got time,” Hyrule replied as Legend passed him back his flask and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He could still taste copper in his mouth, but he’d make do for now. He glanced over at Hyrule and noted the absence of an arrow sticking out of his leg. He must’ve healed himself then. Looking away from Hyrule and taking a look down at his undershirt, Legend blanched. The seam at his left sleeve had been decimated, the green tinted a dark brown color along where the moblin had cut him. The ends of the fabric curled up a bit, and when Legend touched it, the fabric was still a bit damp.

“If we’re going back to camp, I doubt I can wear this,” he muttered to himself. Before he could say anything, something soft smacked him in the face, before falling into his lap. Legend looked down to his lap to see one of Hyrule’s spare tunics. Legend looked back up to Hyrule looking away from him pointedly.

“You can borrow that until we get back to camp,” Hyrule said, keeping his eyes on the trees around them. Legend hummed in reply, weaseling his way out of his ruined undershirt. Goddesses, this would be a nightmare to fix. At least he hadn’t been wearing his tunic at the same time, because then it would truly be a nightmare. Legend chanced a look down after he took off his shirt and whistled lowly at the sight. There was a wide scar across his chest, from his left shoulder down to his right hip. The edges were faint, but the center was a darker color than the rest. Hm.

Without looking back down at the new scar he’d acquired, Legend wriggled his way into Hyrule’s borrowed undershirt. The shoulders were a bit too tight, but Legend would manage. Folding the ruined undershirt up and tucking it into his belt, Legend moved to stand back up. Before he could, though, there was a hand preventing him from doing so.

“Are you sure you should be moving around, Legend?” Hyrule asked, his eyebrows furrowed worriedly. Legend shrugged.

“Well, I feel about as fine as someone who was recently dead could feel, I guess. But this isn’t my first go-around, so I should be alright,” Legend said. He moved to stand up again, and this time Hyrule didn’t stop him. Although that might’ve been due to him being frozen in place.

“What do you mean this has happened before?” Hyrule asked, voice quiet and shaking. Legend took a moment to think on what he’d just said. That might’ve not been the best choice of words. He sighed, looking around for his sword and his boomerang. Luckily, those were at least nearby. As he reached over to pick them up, Legend pondered. He’d need to tell Hyrule what exactly had happened, but. How to phrase it?

“Well. It’s a bit hard to explain, but I can try to,” Legend said, standing back up and dusting his boomerang off before tucking it into his belt - thankfully his own belt hadn’t been ruined, so he wore it with Hyrule’s undershirt. Hyrule also got up, grabbing his sword, shield and pack from the ground next to him.

“We should probably head back to camp. It’s been an hour since I left to find you, I think,” Hyrule said, hefting his pack up onto one shoulder. Legend grimaced. He’d been gone for over an hour? And how long had he been out for?

“I guess we’ll walk and talk then,” Legend said, chancing a glance up at the sky. The sun had been growing closer to the horizon line when he’d “died,” but now there was barely any light left. They’d need to get back to camp before the light completely died. Or at least, they’d need to carry a torch.

“I guess,” Hyrule replied, adjusting his pack a bit. Legend looked away from the horizon he could see, and glanced around the camp. The fire was still lit… There! He could carry a torch with his free hand. Making his way over to the campfire under Hyrule’s curious gaze, Legend grabbed a torch and lit it.

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Hyrule commented as Legend hefted the torch above his head.

“We don’t want to get caught in the dark without a light. ‘Least we can follow the pockmarks I made in the trees with my boomerang,” Legend said, starting to head towards the edge of the clearing towards the forest proper. Hyrule fell into step beside him, and as they started their walk through the forest, it was quiet for a few moments. Eventually, though, the silence was broken.

“So. About what happened back there,” Legend said. Hyrule glanced over at him, a spark of some sort in his eyes. Legend couldn’t identify it, and he couldn’t say for sure whether it was a good kind of spark or a bad one. Hyrule didn’t say a word, though, only nodding for Legend to continue. Legend took a deep breath, before stopping and adjusting his grip on his sword. Hyrule came to a stop next to him and gave him a curious look.

“I… In all my adventures, that’s happened at least once. I don’t know how it works, and I don’t know why it happens, it just does. I “die” and then I come back, all my wounds healed and only faint scars to speak of the memory,” Legend said, lifting up the bottom of his borrowed undershirt and tugged his shorts up a bit. Stark against his leg was an old scar, one that looked a bit similar to a star with how it spiked out.

“Got this one in my Hyrule. Arrow went straight threw and hit something vital, I ended up bleeding out,” Legend continued. That wasn’t a pleasant memory. He had just left a dungeon in Lorule and had gone back to Hyrule when he was ambushed by a group of soldiers. One of them had managed to get him in the leg, and he’d run off with the pegasus boots and barely made it to his house that Ravio had been taking residence in. That’s how Ravio had found out about this curse of his. Hyrule hissed as Legend let his shorts and borrowed tunic fall back to their original places.

“That must’ve been painful,” Hyrule says, shaking his head slightly and looking back at Legend’s face. Legend nodded, before readjusting his grip on his sword and starting to walk again. Hyrule started trotting after him, seeming to be pondering something. Legend let the silence marinate for a bit, before letting out a deep breath.

“You’ve got something on your mind. Spit it out,” Legend said, catching Hyrule off-guard. He started spluttering and put one of his hands up defensively.

“W-what? No! I-I-I don’t have any questions or-or anything!” Hyrule replied, waving his extended hand wildly. Legend smirked a bit, and Hyrule’s face fell defeatedly.

“Ask away,” Legend replied, hoping that Hyrule wouldn’t ask a question that he didn’t want to answer. That wouldn’t end well for either of them.

“Do… Do you know why?” Hyrule asked. Legend paused, puzzling over that for a moment. Why… Why he couldn’t die?

“I don’t really know, Hyrule. Found out during my first adventure when I got stabbed and got back up after bleeding out on the forest floor, but I never figured out why,” Legend replied, a lot more nonchalantly than he probably should’ve. Hyrule balked at Legend’s answer, and he could imagine why.

“Didn’t… Didn’t you say you were thirteen on your first adventure?” Hyrule asked, voice extremely small. Legend nodded once as he kept walking, but he stopped after a few feet when he realized that Hyrule wasn’t standing next to him. Legend turned around, raising an eyebrow at Hyrule, who stood stock-still as he stared at the ground.

“You alright over there?” Legend asked, giving Hyrule a once-over. Was he… Was he trembling?

“You were younger than I was, Legend. It might’ve been by a year, but you died when you were thirteen!” Hyrule said, his voice low but full of passion. Legend paused for a moment, before nodding once.

“Yeah. But I’m still standing now, aren’t I?” Legend asked. Hyrule blinked a few times, before shaking his head a bit.

“I mean… Yeah, but-!” Hyrule was cut off by Legend continuing to bulldoze through his point.

“I’m standing now, and that’s what matters. The past is in the past, and we can’t change it. All we can really focus on is the future, Hyrule,” Legend said, turning away from Hyrule to look up at the sky. The stars were starting to come out, and Legend spotted one familiar constellation among the stars above his head as more and more pinpricks of light came into view.

“You’re… You’re right,” Hyrule said from behind him. Legend didn’t glance behind him, but he did look over when he felt someone stand next to him. Hyrule stood there, a determined look on his face. Legend didn’t question it verbally, only raising an eyebrow. Hyrule locked eyes with him.

“In the future, you’re not going to have to do anything like that. You shouldn’t have to do anything like that to make sure anyone’s safe, because you should stay safe too,” Hyrule continued. He clenched a fist, and broke eye contact to look down at it.

“I’ll make sure of it,” Hyrule finished. The two were quiet for a few moments, the only sound around them being the sound of crickets and cicadas around them. They both stood there for a couple minutes, letting the stars fully come out and the sun to fall below the horizon. The moon had started to rise before either of them spoke up again.

“We really should get back to camp. Wild had finally figured out how to dry out some wood when I left, and Twilight told me he’d probably be two hours. I think it’s half an hour’s walk from here to camp?” Hyrule said, shaking them both from the almost-trance they were in. Legend nodded. The two started walking again, and there was a comfortable silence between the two of them as they walked. Eventually, though, it broke again.

“So, um. Are you going to talk to anyone else about this?” Hyrule asked, trying his best to phrase his question carefully. Legend flinched, and Hyrule flinched in response.

“Of course not. You wouldn’t know if you hadn’t seen it. It’s like what I said earlier - I don’t want to talk about my secrets and if no one else has to reveal theirs then I don’t need to talk about mine,” Legend replied, trying his best to not sound icy. He knew he failed when Hyrule flinched again.

“But… Wouldn’t it be a good idea to just… I don’t know, just talk about it? It’d be… therapeutic in a sense?” Hyrule said, his statement sounding more like a question than Legend thought he probably wanted it to.

“None of my secrets will come out unless it’s under circumstances like these, or if I absolutely need to. Suffice it to say the latter likely won’t happen, and I’m hoping to prevent the former from happening again,” Legend said.

“I… If you’re sure,” Hyrule replied quietly, and Legend saw him looking down at the ground. With a few deft movements, Legend reached over and gave Hyrule a pat on the shoulder.

“Think about it this way. You’re part of an exclusive club that only has four people - me, you, my Zelda, and Ravio,” Legend said with a grin. Hyrule looked up and gave a small smile in response.

“But I do have to ask. I don’t want to talk about this with the others, so unless I give you the okay to - which likely won’t happen - please don’t mention anything about what happened to the rest of them. As to why I’m borrowing one of your undershirts, mine got caught on a jagged tree branch and a giant hole got ripped in it,” Legend continued, adjusting the wrinkled undershirt he had tucked into his belt. There was still the matter of bloodstains on it… Oh.

Hyrule’s eyebrows rose as Legend walked over to a mud puddle and pulled his bloodied undershirt from his belt. He opened his mouth to ask what Legend was doing, when Legend threw the shirt into the mud and stepped on it, moving his foot around for good measure.

“What are you doing?” Hyrule asked incredulously as Legend picked up the muddied undershirt from the puddle. Legend grinned.

“When my shirt got caught on the branch, I fell into a mud puddle. I cleaned myself off and you let me borrow this undershirt. I’ll probably need to slip into one of my own when we get back to camp, though, this is tight around my shoulders,” Legend said. Hyrule only nodded dumbly.

“I… Alright,” he said, not really understanding what Legend was doing but going along with it. Legend took one look at Hyrule’s dumbfounded expression before bursting out laughing.

“Your face! It’s hilarious!” Legend said as he laughed, though Hyrule didn’t join him. He was still baffled. As Legend’s quick bout of laughter died down, he gave Hyrule another serious look.

“But in all seriousness, I can trust you won’t tell the rest of them, right?” Legend asked. It was quiet for a moment, before Hyrule nodded once.

“Yeah. And… I wanted to apologize. I put you on the spot in front of everyone earlier, and I shouldn’t’ve done that,” Hyrule said. Legend waved a hand.

“Just don’t do it again,” Legend said. Hyrule nodded again, and the two kept on walking, keeping up light conversation as they did.

Legend could hear a slightly panicked voice as he walked to the edge of the tree line around the small clearing their cave campsite let out into.

“What if they got lost, or one of them got hurt, Time? You should let me go after them,” Twilight said. Legend could see Twilight pacing back and forth at the mouth of the cave, and Time wasn’t visible. Warriors, however, was. He was fiddling with his sword almost absentmindedly.

“Legend’s the most experienced adventurer in the group, pup. Have some confidence in him. And Hyrule’s no slouch either. They’ll be fine,” Time replied, and Legend raised an eyebrow as he locked eyes with Hyrule. Time was that confident in the two of them, huh?

“Twilight’s not the only one who’s worried, Time,” Warriors said, gesturing in the cave to someone that Legend couldn’t see.

“And Hyrule said he’d be back before Wild finished up making food and he’s almost done with that,” Warriors added, gesturing towards Wild, presumably. Twilight spun around to face towards where Legend presumed Time was and threw his hands up.

“Why’re you acting so nonchalant about this! Just because Legend’s experienced doesn’t mean he’s immune to injuries!” Twilight said, sounding a bit frustrated. Legend chose that moment to step out from the trees with Hyrule only a step behind him.

“I’d like to think that I am, thanks,” Legend called as he started walking towards the cave. Twilight whirled back around and blinked a few times, before running up and giving Legend a hug without warning.

“Oof!” Legend said. Twilight held on tight for a few seconds, before letting go and stepping back, still keeping a light hold on Legend’s shoulders.

“You’re wearing one of Hyrule’s undershirts, what happened?” Twilight asked as Warriors walked - it seemed more like he power walked, but Legend couldn’t tell - up to the three of them.

“Well, when Hyrule showed up when I was walking a bit off the path, I tripped and my shirt got caught on this jaggedy tree branch and got torn. Ended up falling face-first into a mud puddle. Luckily there was a lake that I could clean up in nearby, and Hyrule let me borrow one of his undershirts so I wouldn’t be walking around with a muddy torn open undershirt. It would’ve been bad for both of us if we’d gotten attacked when I was wearing that,” Legend explained. Twilight narrowed his eyes a bit, before nodding.

“That would’ve been real bad, yeah,” Warriors said as Twilight started leading him back into the cave. Legend could smell something a bit gamey, and his stomach grumbled its protest. Twilight started laughing at that, and quickly all four of them were all laughing at Legend’s minor misfortune.

“Dinner’s almost ready, you four!” Wild called out, and a chorus of gasps rang out from the cave. Four, Wind and Sky, Legend guessed. As the four of them walked into the cave to the delightful smell of roasting meat and vegetables, Legend and Hyrule locked eyes. Hyrule gave Legend the smallest of nods, and Legend cracked a small smile in response.

What happened that day, Legend thought as dinner was served, was an utter disaster. He hadn’t been expecting a fight with a mob of monsters, or for Hyrule to find out one of the secrets he held closest to his heart. But he couldn’t change that now, so he supposed he’d just go with it. He wouldn’t purposefully be revealing that secret to anyone else, anyways.

At least none of his other secrets had surfaced. Legend was definitely not ready to explain any of them to their motley crew of Links. Especially his fourth adventure. That wouldn’t ever be coming out.

When everyone settled down for that night, Legend moved outside to go and look at the stars again, trying to spot familiar patterns in the dark sky. No one moved to join him, since he was on first watch for the night. It was calming, he thought, as he glanced up occasionally to map out the stars above him. He didn’t find many familiar constellations, but there were a few he noted. At least there was that one constant.

Legend knew that he was a secretive man. This was an established fact that anyone that knew him longer than five minutes could agree with. He might not have intended to share one of those secrets that day, but it happened. He couldn’t’ve stopped it, even if he’d really wanted to. And Legend wasn’t sure he would’ve wanted to. Well, aside from the whole dying part, but that’s neither here nor there. His point was that he felt a little lighter. He wasn’t going to go sharing any secrets with anyone any time soon, but maybe… Maybe having someone to talk about this one while he travelled wasn’t the worst idea.

Bonus:

“None of my secrets will come out unless necessary or if I want to play a prank on Warriors, let’s be real,” Legend said. The duo were quiet for a moment, before they both started laughing their asses off, because this was a wonderful idea.

“Now that would be a sight to see!” Hyrule managed to say between his laughs. Legend nodded, unable to speak due to his own raucous laughter. Maybe he would do that…

A month later, Legend proceeded to scare the everloving shit out of Warriors by popping out of a wall and saying ‘boo’. He might’ve gotten stabbed because of it, but it was totally worth it.

#linked universe #loz #nerdiwrites #warnings for:#violence #character death #(don't worry that's not permanent)#but aside from that: HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOAF I LOVE YOU #this fic is wonderful i had so much fun writing it :D

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princessamericachavez · 5 years

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Let’s talk about Fjord

This has been a long time coming, especially given how most of the fandom tends to overlook the depth of Fjord’s past and current trauma or downright vilify him for it... but I’m not here to talk salt, I’m here to talk about all the sweet little tidbits about Fjord we learned tonight in Talks.

So let’s review:

a. Fjord feels more comfortable in the City of Beasts than in the Empire/Menagerie Coast:

Now, hey, let’s take a break and consider this, yeah? Because Fjord has spent all of his life fighting and denying the “monster” side of him, to the point of self-harm. He’s crafted himself to look and act as an exemplary human (when he doesn’t even know if the non-orc part of his blood is human at all). Only in the past few months with the Mighty Nein has he started to accept himself. Letting his tusks grow —under Jester’s gentle watch— has been a huge step for him and his self-image.

And yet. When they were traveling across this other lands, we never really saw Fjord complain. He never brought up that he felt watched, that he felt judged, that he felt out of place. That’s just how good his mask is (and part of his “no one cares” mentality that we will touch in a moment).

He might not even fit in here entirely either —he’s destined to be forever a half-blood no matter where he goes— but the fact that he feels more comfortable here than he ever did before talks about just how deep-rooted his trauma is. As Travis put it “it’s having an interesting effect on him” and hopefully it will be one of further self-acceptance. We already saw him comment to himself that the stubby tusks had helped him intimidate Umanon. The very same thing that ostracized him as a child, is a powerful asset here.

b. Fjord is desperate to connect with his bloodline.

Now, we’d seen hints of this longing before. On a meta-level, there was Travis complaining that Fjord didn’t get to meet the lonely half-orc on their way North, but we’ve also had several IC hints. Consider how Fjord found an orcish tusk in Lorenzo’s bag of teeth and kept it. Think about the value he puts into family. Think about him saying, of course, Jester would want to meet her dad. Think about the weight and importance he puts in the family. Think about how set he is in reuniting families —be it Jester with her mom or Nott with her son or even Beau with her estranged parents. Think about him choosing to name himself Captain Tusktooth of all things and despite his lack of them.

The way Travis put it tonight, though, wasn’t just curiosity, it was desperation. It was the need to sit down and ask “are you a monster, for real? Am I really a monster, too?” It’s just the need to be acknowledged. It’s the need to understand what it is in his blood that has made him a target all of his life. It’s getting some damn answers for once. It’s being a part of something.

And how heartbreaking is it that his first proper encounter with his own species had to be this three drunken assholes that tried to hurt his friends and disregarded him as a weakling? And, yet, how satisfying is it that he got himself and his friends out of that problem, not by force but by outwitting them? By taking this side of him that he’s carefully crafted through his painful youth and using it to get the upper hand?

c. Fjord’s “tough love” and understanding of the world.

Listen, as much as the two previous things were sad, I think nothing broke my heart as hearing Travis talk about Fjord’s perspective of the world. It makes sense, though. Of course, it does. He grew a nobody in an orphanage where he suffered at hands of other children and was probably never aided or defended by a single caring soul. What does it do to a child, to grow knowing no one is going to come to your rescue? That no one cares? That no one will?

And then Vandran, the one person that has apparently shown Fjord the most kindness in his life, reinforcing this idea, telling him “yes, no one cares, no one is going to care about your problems, so you just deal with them and keep pushing forward”. Of course, Fjord grabbed that ideology —that already aligned with his perspective of the world— and held on to it, turned it into a shield with which he could face an uncaring world. As “tough love” as it is, Vandran gave him a tool to turn his pain and anger into a way to keep moving. Was it the most emotionally healthy advice? Probably not, but it kept Fjord alive.

We’ve seen the side effects of this attitude come and bite Fjord in the ass, though. From not sharing his Uk’otoa dreams at first because they are his problem to deal with, to taking in the responsibility to deal with Avantika and the whole pirate deal... it’s made his allies distrust him, thinking he withholds information out of shadiness rather than a sense of sole responsibility for his issues. Like, think of being sure that the M9 would not come and rescue him from the slavers. After being rescued, he tells Beau and Caleb that he did not expect them to come. Why would he. No one ever has. No one has ever cared. He tells them he expects better of himself because that’s the only person he’s ever really been able to rely on.

Until now. Until the Mighty Nein. After being rescued, he tells them that he hasn’t had many kindnesses directed at him in his life, and as much as it sounds like a “cool guy” line, really, really, really think how real that is, how much pain there was in Fjord’s shaky breathless laugh as he said it. I don’t care what anyone says or thinks, Travis is fucking BRILLIANT roleplayer that has been planting the seeds and hints of Fjord’s trauma and pain, playing the subtle long game, really thinking deeply about how his past affects him and it’s all slowly boiling to the surface and it’s perfect.

Going back to how the M9 have changed Fjord’s perspective, though, think about how much they care. They do care, and they show it, and they help, and show up, and go out of their way to help and protect Fjord in a way no one ever has before.

Jester bribing someone to get Fjord a recommendation later just because he said he wanted to get into a super fancy magic academy. Beau, Caleb, Nott and Molly risking (and giving) their lives to rescue him and the others from the slavers. They spent months out in the open see and surrounded by pirates and death threats just to help him get answers about his powers and his mentor. Jester yelling “don’t worry Fjord, you’re going to be okay!” or “I’ll protect you, Fjord!” and assuring him “I’ll heal you if you start to hurt”, keeping his secrets about his past, constantly asking about how he feels and what he wants and what he needs. My dudes (forgive me as I get momentarily shippy) but when Travis says Fjord is in awe of Jester’s light and happiness, how he’s never met anyone like her, how her light is contagious... the more we learn about the shadows in Fjord’s past, the more apparent it becomes how significant her light is to him (platonically or otherwise)

And speaking of light, fourth and final matter

d. Fjord is looking for an out.

And not just any out. Fjord is looking for a higher power to help him stop Uk’otoa or, at the very least, break his connection to the serpent.

And here is where I throw a huge HAH to anyone who claimed Fjord to be evil, shady, power-hungry or willing to betray everyone or some shit.

My guys, Fjord is willing to give up the very power that —for the first time in his life— has allowed him to defend himself and those he loves, just to do the right thing. Fjord is actively thinking of ways to fix his situation. Fjord is step by step turning his back on the dark promise of rewards and reaching for the light like a drowning man.

How will that look, you ask? Well, Travis did bring up a significant word tonight: Paladin.

From a purely ttrpg point of view, all Fjord needs to multiclass to Paladin is a couple extra strength points that he could easily get the next time he can up his stats.

From a narrative point of view, though, how wonderful would it be? This boy, this man, who grew up being shunned, hated, attacked, disregarded as a monstrosity... This kid who everyone called an evil shady monster, who people distrust on sight, who didn’t think himself important enough to be helped by anyone...

I would KILL for paladin Fjord. Like, shutting up every single person (in and out of game) that called him evil or a monster by becoming a god's champion, a paragon of good, literal knight in shining armor, tusks and all. TUSKS AND ALL.

Jester seeing Fjord in full armor, shining like the sun with a light of his own, blessed by a deity of his own, tall and proud... and her just being filled with pride, telling him “see, Fjord? I told you, you’re just like a knight in shining armor!”

I’m curious as to which god Fjord would choose to follow, though.

The Wildmother might seem like a far fit given how different Caduceus’s approach to, well, everything is to Fjord, but reading up on her she’s “the goddess of wilderness and the sea. She watches over nature, good harvest, grants protection from washing away in storms, guides the passage of ships, and protects smaller folk” which seems like SUPER fitting given Fjord’s backstory.

The Moonweaver would be an interesting nod to Molly’s faith, but also a good fit to Fjord’s tendencies towards hiding his true self behind a perfect mask since she “is a chaotic good deity of moonlight and the autumn season, as well as the patron of illusions and misdirection [...] she is largely considered to be the deity of love and protector of the trysts of lovers. Those who work in secrecy and trickery often ask for her blessing.” (also Fjord needs all the luck in love he can get)

The Changebringer is an interesting option too, I think, since she “is the goddess of freedom, trade, travel, and adventure. She encourages her followers to venture into the unknown” and we all know how curious and impulsive Fjord can be, it’d be fun for him to have a deity that encourages his thirst for adventure now that he’s enjoying his new life and getting to know and do more than he ever dreamed.

The Stormlord is a weird mix since he’s the god of war and fighting but also worshipped by sailors of the Menagerie Coast, which Fjord could feel closer too.

(also either the Stormlord or the Wildmother might have some kind of direct interest in Uk’otoa not rising again, so they seem likely to help)

I —for one— would love to see Fjord as a paladin of the Traveler, just because the idea is hilarious and I have no idea how it would work.

Either way, though, Fjord has a super interesting road ahead. His past and present are coming to the surface and this arc his subtly giving us a lot of what will shape his future.

Tl;dr: Fjord is a good boy who has suffered a lot and I will fight the next person that calls him evil.

#fjord #travis willingham #talks machina #meta #critical role #sofia's nonsense #a little bit of #fjorester #too

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jessikahathaway · 5 years

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Crash Landing Part I

Oh henlo frens.

I did actual medical research for this fanfiction. Please, do not attempt any of the medical procedures in this work of fiction. If you are suffering any sort of medical disorder or injury, please contact your local physician.

I do not own the photo.

Pairing: Taehyung X Reader

Genre: Alien!AU, Sci-fi, Romance, Smut (Future), Adventure.

Warning: There are descriptions of medical procedures, please be aware of this when reading.

As a medical technician in study, the opportunity for practice never gets past you. You’d go to the local shelters and offer advice on small colds or even lacerations. Your village wasn’t very large, and a majority of the people who lived here, worked in the closest city or town.

You were a strong believer in natural remedies and searching through the forests to gather plenty of herbal painkillers and mint oils for recurring headaches. Rarely did you send away people to go to the closest clinic, because people around here weren’t rich.

Money wasn’t abundant in your modest village. People shared and took care of one another. Lived off of what nature gifted them with and relied on their own two hands to achieve stability in their humble lives.

Everyone you’d grown up with had either left in pursuit of the flashy lives and new exploits of the cities... People and booze being a strong pull to stave off the boredom that could creep into everyone’s bones.

However, you were an exception. You hated the city, the loud sounds and crowds only serving to scare you and giving you a massive headache. But, you were a self taught medical student hoping to head for the same city you loathed. As much as you loved and preferred herbal remedies, sometimes the knowledge gained from professional medicine is better than your salves. When you gathered enough money from helping the people locally, you planned on starting some classes. Staying in town to help of course.

People around you supported your decision, even though women weren’t generally accepted into the medical field. You were determined to make a difference. Cause a ripple in the pond of the cosmos and see what new things were to be discovered.

So far, it was going well. You had enough money saved up to no doubt get you through a few semesters at a small college. Your dream of helping people could come to fruition if you just kept going, and didn’t give up...

Until it all came crashing down around you.

A fire.

It had been a regular morning, waking up in your small cottage on the outskirts of the small lake where you’d see fishermen heading out for the morning catch. But, today was different.

You lived just beyond the boundaries of the village, so you wouldn’t hear much at night other than the soft waves from the lakeshore.

And that night you heard nothing either.

No desperate pounding on your door, nothing to elude to danger. But it was because it all happened too fast for anyone to comprehend.

You woke up and started making your coffee, one of the luxuries you could never live without. The local general store always had some in stock in case you were to come in for your fix.

The smell comforted you in the brisk morning. You walked out of your home and sat on the porch, grabbing a medical terminology book you’d been studying and getting a start on the surgical section of the text, when you smelt something... off...

It wasn’t unusual for you to smell bonfire smoke, as many families had one to get together and talk about their lives, to visit and to make memories with each other under the starlight. Warmed by the flames as they made merry.

However, this morning was different. The air didn’t smell of simple burning firewood, it smelt of scorched wood and... the horrible stench of charred flesh tainted with boiling blood. You knew the scent well from having to handle multiple burn wounds from the local fletcher. A kind hearted gentleman perhaps just a bit too clumsy for his own good.

Soon, you were off your porch, your precious book forgotten as you ran through the forest towards the awful smell. You noticed that the closer you got to town, the more the air was thick with fog, perhaps smoke. Heart pounding and feet aching you arrived on the outskirts of your beloved home... And the sight was ungodly.

Buildings collapsed and charred wood bare to the morning haze. You were frozen in your tracks as you gazed upon the scene before you. The entire village was razed, almost unrecognizable to your acute memory. Your favorite bakery sat in shambles, glass shattered about the ground outside.

You remember just the morning prior going to get a few croissants that sat in their box at home, waiting to be eaten. Now, they were a horrible sight to behold. One of the last things Mr. Noble had sold in his life.

They still sat in your window sill, rotting.

Mrs. Allison’s bookstore, gone. The books proved to be an incredible source of kindling. The building must’ve been swallowed in moments...

Your chest ached at the sights before you, and from the smoke inhalation you were subjecting yourself to. Quickly, you pulled out your handkerchief from your robe and doused it in water from the charred well. You applied the cool cloth to your face and kept walking.

The church where you’d helped so many during weekly mass was now a husk of its former comfort. Now, serving as a haunting reminder that God had turned his back on this town in their hour of need... Yet left you standing in the waste, alone.

Next would be where the Fletcher's station should have stood... Yet, there was nothing but chunks of stone and nearly decimated wood framework that sat, still smoldering. The heat you felt was nearly unbearable... You couldn’t imagine how it must’ve been a mere two hours before.

The blaze started here, you surmised, gathering more and more information as you looked around. The buildings next to the fletchers station had the most damage, and what hurt you the most was the fact that everything appeared to be rather fresh. This couldn’t have happened more than four hours ago. Everything was still smoking and bright red ambers showed in the morning dew.

You wandered aimlessly, the ground underneath your feet proving to still be hot as you felt your foot jolt in pain. You noticed that a metal mirror lay cracked in the Earth, no doubt from Emerson’s fine Jeweler’s that was only steps away. Taking your robe off you gathered the mirror and took it with you.

That mirror sits on your bedside table to this day. The cracked glass still serving as a reminder of this night.

Growing more and more desperate for human company, you began to yell.

“IS ANYONE OUT THERE?” you cried, looking from left to right for a sign of life the form from the ashes.

“CAROLINE!” you cried out for one of your close friends, the daughter of the Fletcher who would be turning eighteen in just a few weeks. She was planning on leaving for the city to become fashion designer. Proving to be just as skillful with her hand as her beloved father.

“MR. CEILBAKSKI!” the Polish man who moved in not even three years ago, who made delicious Perogies and started making toys for the children who adored his company.

“MISS SELIA!” you cried, falling to your knees on the wounded Earth below. She was the town’s teacher. She had taught you and realized your potential for helping others. Miss Selia was the woman who gave you her personal copy of an herbal remedies book that had set you on your path to where you stood today.

As you sat in the ash, a cold breeze came through the town. You then felt soft droplets of rain begin to brush your skin.

At that moment, you began to cry.

Slowly, the ash and smoke began to settle and the Earth’s wounds were healed by the gift of rain. The wood of the buildings cooled, the metal cracked from the temperature change. You heard the warping of glass and the smell began overwhelming.

You quickly found yourself vomiting into the gray ash that sat underneath you. Realizing that you were now alone in the world. Everyone you’d ever known in your life had been taken from you in one night. The worst part?

No one would ever know either.

People rarely ventured this far into the wilderness, seeing no point other than to trade. But trade was all organized by correspondence, and now seeing as you were the only residence... No one would be coming by at all.

Shame and disgrace drenched your being more than the rain from the heavens. You failed your townspeople. You were supposed to help them and keep them healthy, yet here you were, alive and well while they were all gone... Burned in the night while you slept comfortably in your bed.

The very thought disgusted you, causing another wave of nausea to wash over your body. Dry heaving, you clambered to your feet. You had to get away from here, the disappointment was immeasurable. You’d let them all down. It was your fault.

So, that day you decided...

You’d live in solitude for the rest of your existence, and never practice medicine again. You had no right, after how many died from your negligence.

Accepting your new found seclusion, you went home.

Leaving the village you had once loved so much, as a haunting memory.

* * *

The years that followed were mundane and silent. The only human interaction you had was from travelers that heard of your remedies. You simply told them you were no longer in practice, and they left... Sometimes offering some form of compensation for disturbing you.

You hadn’t much need for money.

You had some saved up from... before...

You sustained yourself and kept yourself alive by living off the land, like the others had before you. It was all very boring, and you longed for some form of excitement, or death. Whichever came first.

And you were living quietly, until one afternoon.

It was near dusk, you were sitting peacefully out on your porch, letting the warm sun bath your skin in light. The day had been wholly uninteresting, the only sort of thrill you had was when a branch fell onto your porch and made a knocking sound.

Travelers had stopped coming months ago.

Leaving you to your isolation as planned.

However, you found that you craved human people desperately. Although every time you found yourself longing, you reminded yourself of your misgivings and reprimanded your whimpering heart that this is what you deserved. You were to be alone, and that was the end of it.

That was, until a ear splitting BOOM echoed through the melancholy forest.

The sound of crunching metal and disturbed Earth ricocheted off the somber trees. You jolted from your chair where you found yourself nodding off, lost in your own thoughts. Ears ringing you rubbed your head in pain.

What in God’s name could’ve caused such a sound?

Your mind reeled at the sudden disturbance as you struggled to think of a logical reason for the sudden disruption. Could it be some sort of natural phenomenon that you simply had forgotten about? Were there hunters in the forest?

No... You’d heard hunters within the months, and none of their methods of capture were this deafening.

Perhaps it was a-

“HELP ME!”

A blood curdling scream reached your ears. Your body went cold. Someone was hurt.

Before you knew it you were on your feet and rushing towards the direction you swore to never venture towards again. Even though you hadn’t traveled the path in years, your legs remembered the turns and sights perfectly.

Turn left as the rotting oak tree, keep going straight for fifty paces.

Soon, you were back in the ruins of your ghostly past. And, right where the schoolhouse rubble used to sit, was an odd looking... something...

It was large, possibly the size of the former proudly standing church. It shone in the blazing afternoon sun. The smell of something foreign reached your nose and you coughed at the weird scent. You couldn’t describe ever smelling something like it before, and approached the vessel with caution.

Coughing, you attempted to speak.

“Hello?” your voice sounded off to your own ears. You had no need to speak in the silence of your life. You got closer to the vessel slowly, nervous to what you would find.

Suddenly, a groan of pain alerted you towards the remnants of Mr. Noble’s bakery. A person was on the ground, in a heap, covered in what looked like soot and other various smudges. You saw that they appeared to be male, however you weren’t sure... Because they were absolutely beautiful.

Their skin was pale and scuffed, but shone against the stark contrast of their bleak surroundings. They appeared to have a metal toned hair color that you’d never seen on a human being before.

“A-are you alright?” you asked, getting closer to their form. You immediately noticed the hiccuped breathing that no doubt was caused by a fractured costal. You bit your lip and tried not to think about it. “Can you hear me?” you asked, placing a hand on the ground next to them, not sure if you should get any closer to the stranger.

“Help... me...” they pleaded, their eyes not opening, but you could feel their agony as if it were your own.

“I-I...” you struggled.

You told yourself that you no longer had the right to practice after what occured in this very town years ago. And you hadn’t, other than making minor salves for your own personal use. However, this might be the worst case you’d ever seen.

And, just maybe...

If the Lord would grant you this one success, you could rest easier at night knowing you’d at least help one more person...

Just one more...

Without another thought you reached out and touched their head. They seemed to relax into your touch and you tested their arm to see if there were any fractures to inhibit your moving them

When you saw no reaction from the poor soul and felt no large fractures, you began to pull them up off the ground.

“Ah...” they grumbled in a low tenor... So it was a man...

“Sir, can you hear me? I’m going to need you to stand up, I’ll support you, but you have to try to stand up for me,” you persuaded. The male coughed and flexed his legs in an attempt to push himself up.

That small amount of strength was enough for you to get him up and resting against your side. Taking on the brunt of his weight you could feel how exhausted his body was. He needed to rest as soon as possible.

Interlocking your fingers and securing your hold around his waist you began to walk.

Slowly but surely you made it back to your cottage before darkness had completely encapsulated the world.

Walking into your home you helped the man onto your bed, nearly falling on top of him in your own fatigue. But now was not the time for sleep, there was much work to be done.

Quickly, your mind was set back into your medical knowledge. You rushed to your well outdoors and grabbed the cloths that were hanging on the wire outside to dry. You gathered up your skirts and hurried back inside before too much time elapsed.

Now was the time to make haste. The first twenty four hours after an incident were the make or break moments. It was here you decided if he lived or died.

“Just one more, please,” you begged to yourself as you set down the bowl of water and grabbed the familiar yellow sprigs of witch hazel and put them in the water. Witch hazel has many healing properties for the skin, not just with cleansing and anti-inflammatory. It would help with the bruising he would experience no doubt.

While letting the witch hazel set in the water for potency you ran to your cupboard in search of your peppermint salve. The peppermint will ease the ache of his muscles and help with his respiratory struggles as well.

Coming back to his side you looked at his clothing.

It looked nothing like what you’d ever seen before. Had clothing changed that much in the past years you’d been out of society? Certainly that wasn’t the case. Regardless of his odd attire, it was going to have to come off.

Your cheeks flushed red as your mind wandered to less appropriate thoughts, making you shake your head in frustration. He was your patient, not someone to fantasize about! How dare you think so lowly of someone in need!

You went to the odd metal clasps at the front of his, tunic? Whatever it may be, it opened quickly and you removed it and set it aside, looking at his torso in worry. There were multiple small cuts and scrapes that the witch hazel would cleanse properly, however, there were a few cuts that would need more attention.

Examining closer, you saw there was a shard of glass lodge in his pectoral that would need to be removed promptly. Another worrying discovery presented itself to you soon after.

The result of a collapsed lung showed on his skin. The bluish tint to his otherwise pale flesh made your heart skip in worry. He either was struck on the chest extremely hard, or there was something penetrating him from the back.

Quick to find the cause of his ailment you delicately pushed him on his side, ensuring that the collapsed lung wouldn’t be affected too harshly from the movement. Seeing no protruding injury you decided to make your decision.

You had to perform surgery. And soon.

Desperately thinking back to your medical textbooks you remembered that doing this would be risky, and you had to prepare accordingly. Rushing to your long forgotten medical cabinet you discovered your old, but clean medical tools. Searching for the open holed syringe, you almost cried with joy when it was in your hands.

Clambering over the young man with haste you settled yourself on his hips and gathered your courage. You’d never tried any kind of aspiration before this moment. You whispered a quick prayer for your patient’s safety before gripping the syringe and forcing it directly in the center of the blue twinged area. The man underneath you huffed in pain, but you were quick to begin removing the air that had been caught between the collapse lung and his chest cavity.

Eventually, you managed to get his breathing to ease and watching as the blue hue to his breath taking skin started to lessen as well. Soon, you grabbed your witch hazel infused water and began to cleans all of his wounds on his torso.

You glance at his legs and thanked God that there didn’t appear to be severe damage. Minor scrapes that could be easily cleansed and healed were the majority. A gash peaked out from underneath his pant leg...

Damn, you’d have to remove the trousers to see the full extent of the damage. You didn’t want to disrobe the poor man without his knowledge, but his health was of your main concern at the moment.

Slowly, you unbuckled his pants and tugged on the fabric gingerly, careful to not disturb any possible injuries lying underneath the material. Once his clothing was removed you found a sizable cut that would need sutures.

Grabbing your witch hazel solution you cleansed his laceration. You sighed and noticed that it was still bleeding badly. You collected your sewing kit and lit a candle. Holding the needle over the flame you watched and assessed its cleanliness. After a few more times in the fire you moved towards your patient. Ensuring that the area was dry and sterile you proceeded.

You sat in the dimming light of night and tied off the sutures and leaned back on your haunches.

It was no doubt closing in upon the witching hour. His survival now depended on him, and his ability to pull through the darkest hours of the night. If he woke to see morning, there was a very good chance of him to see many more days in the future.

You placed a cool cloth with the witch hazel on his forehead to dissuade fever from creeping in on him during the night. Next, you grabbed your garlic oil and placed a few drops in his mouth following with a few drops of peppermint oil to even out the stench.

Next you collected your basil lavender balm and rubbed it on his wrists and on the tender areas of his skin. When you brushed your hair out of your face you noticed his hair was caked with dried blood and a black, slick liquid. Your face turned up in displeasure before you hurried to gather some some and rosemary to clean his hair with. He’d need a bath when he woke, no doubt, but for now cleaning him up would be a good idea.

Setting your items down on the bedside table, you walked out to get a bowl of water for his hair. Pumping the well you thought back to what had unfurled in the past hours...

What was that large, vessel like structure in the town square? Who was the man currently sleeping in your bed and, what was he doing out in this area of the forest? So many questions swirled in your mind that what brought you out of your thoughts was the cold water sloshing on your feet. You’d overflown the bowl of water in your state.

Shaking your head you moved back towards your cottage. For now, the questions didn’t matter. Saving this man’s life what your main priority.

Kneeling beside him you collected the soap into a lather and washed his hair gingerly, making sure not to jostle him too aggressively. You didn’t feel any kind of fractures or tension in his neck. He was lucky in that respect, he could’ve been in a lot of trouble if his neck or spine had been injured. Leaning over his body you watched a shiver go down his form.

Was he cold?

You noticed that he was only clad in some sort of undergarments. You squealed at the realization of you not covering him properly!

“I’m sorry, hang on,” you whispered, rushing to your closet and getting some linens out. Coming back to his side you unfolded a soft sheet that would keep the bulk of the blanket from irritating his wounds. You wanted them uncovered for the night. Giving them the chance to breathe and in the morning you would bind them for recovery.

Laying the blanket over top of the sheet you watched as he seemed to settle slightly, tension leaving his torso. You rubbed your forehead in exhaustion. The day was taking its toll on you. However, there was still things to do.

Seizing one of your towels you dried his silver hair. You inspected the strands and found that they were naturally occuring. Not like that hair changing practice beauticians had began doing in the cities. Next you grabbed your brush and comb through his locks to get out any tangles so he would sleep comfortably. Right now, rest was imperative. His strained muscles needed to relax and keep from any kind of strenuous activities.

Examining your work you placed your hands on your hips with pride. You’d done what you could for him. At this sensation a few tears came to your vision. This was why you loved medicine. Bringing someone from the brink of death back, giving them their years back before they were taken too soon. It was these rewarding emotions that kept you going...

And perhaps, you could start again...

No!

You were only saving him because you were his only chance at survival... That’s the only reason you allowed yourself to aid him. And once he was healed, you’d never touch your instruments again...

But now, there were mundane chores to attend to.

You were efficient in taking his clothing out and dunking them in the lake, submerging them in the water and scrubbing them on your board to ensure all the gunk came out. There were decent slices taken out of the material that you’d have to mend later on...

His injuries shouldn’t take terribly long to heal. The real worries were his collapsed lung and his laceration of the left thigh. Once those were set for recovery, he’d have to leave. You preferred this solitude... Didn’t you?

Taking his clothing back towards your home you hung them out to dry, only then did you let yourself sink back onto the floor next to his bedside. You’d only sleep for a few moments, then you’d get to work on... on...

Sleep became harder to fight as you leaned against your bed. He’d be resting for a while, and so should you...

With these thoughts in your head, you drifted off into your dreams.

#Taehyung #Tae Tae #Taehyung Alien #Alien BTS #Jessika Hathaway #Crash Landing #BTS Smut #V #V BTS #V Bangtan #V BTS Taehyung #Smut #BTS Fanfic #bts fanfiction

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whatisonthemoonarchive · 3 years

Text

An open letter to In Jin Moon and the Unification Church (2012) by Thomas Cromwell

September 13, 2012

Dear In Jin Moon,

On September 11 this year, as Americans paused to remember the shock and horror of the terror attacks 11 years ago, my son, Tossa, was fired by HSA-UWC. Until a few days ago, you led HSA, and the staff members there are still your loyal followers. Tossa’s firing was accompanied by threats of legal action should he disclose any information about you, your family or your staff. He has also been subjected to blackmail. HSA staffers have threated to reveal ‘personal issues’ that he had shared confidentially and which would be embarrassing if made public unless he leave HSA without saying what he knows about the wrongdoing of your administration.

Tossa has been through many months of internal struggle and anguish over your situation. He has been trained to put his faith in central figures and to look for God’s Will behind Unification Church situations that have all the hallmarks of corruption and abuse. I have heard tapes of you praising him for his devotion and commitment as a staff member. But that was before your behavior became so outrageous that Tossa could no longer stand it and told you directly that he could not agree with your immoral course of action. He was sent home for a month before being fired because your staff closed ranks around you and pilloried him for speaking the truth, instead of joining him in confronting you.

I would imagine quite a few people know that Tossa was fired because he spoke up about his concerns for you and what you were doing. Confronting you was very difficult to do, and brave of him. For someone like Tossa with deep faith in God, TP and the Divine Principle, to confront you as a child of TP over your behavior required enormous courage. His firing was payback, and it speaks volumes about you and the organization you have created to protect yourself rather than to carry out its providential purpose.

Many members know Tossa as a translator for Father. He has often spent whole days doing simultaneous translation from Father’s difficult Korean into English. He has also worked in your office to translate speeches and other UC documents, to help with the education of blessed children, and other tasks.

But that is not the Tossa that I know. To me, he is a beautiful son. His suffering now is hard for me to bear. I find myself weeping for him and for God. I am enraged. I feel like Jacob when Joseph was abused by his brothers. What can a father do? It is not that Tossa has lost a job. (I have often warned him that his devotion to the UC would never be reciprocated, and his pay kept him in virtual poverty anyway.) My sadness and anger are because evil and abusive leadership have once more risen to dominate an organization I served most of my adult life, and people that I care about and love have been deeply hurt.

Let me tell you a few things about the Tossa that I know. His birth in Amman, Jordan seemed something of a miracle to me, at that time a missionary and regional director for the Middle East struggling endlessly to build a foundation for TP in the land of the Patriarchs, of Moses and Jesus. No father could want a better son. Of course he is not perfect, but he was obedient and good. As my missions evolved, he moved with us from Jordan to Cyprus and then Greece. He learned Greek during our first summer in Athens, at age 7. At 10, he came with me to a regional Principle workshop on a mountain in Turkey, where he presented the parallels of history.

At home he always cared for his younger siblings, first Anmar, born in Cyprus, then Alexander and Harmony, born in Athens. He cared for others too, especially children less fortunate than he in being able to learn at school. At 12 I took him to Korea to join the GOP program, designed to help Western BCs learn Korean. I remember sitting on the stairs of the GOP dorm before having to leave him there. I told him if he stayed in the top three of his GOP class that I thought it would be worth my effort to continue supporting him there. He never forgot, and never gave me a reason to bring him home. He finished High School in Korea and went to Sun Moon University.

But he has always been sensitive: caring for others has been an expression of his sensitive heart. (Anyone who has witnessed his infinite patience with his children, including a son with serious disabilities, will know what I mean.) Korean school kids can be mean and bullying, and Tossa always hated that. His treatment by Korean students at SM University became too much for him, so he came to live with me in the US. Later, work with the UC took him back to Korea where he tried to fit in with the Korean UC HQ staff. Eventually, he could not continue there either due to a culture obsessed with position rather than caring and love. He returned to the US, greatly discouraged. Then he went to work for you, In Jin, hopeful at the time that this would finally prove an environment in which TP and the Principle were actually the model and guiding light for work and relationships.

Tossa would never write a public letter like this to you. He is too humble and self-deprecating. He has also been your employee and a faithful UC member. I have no such constraints. You don’t know me, but I can tell you I don’t spend my time in basements writing anonymous blogs critical of the Unification Church. I was born into a strict Bruderhof Community, in England. I had my first encounter with God at age 13, and from that time committed myself to seeking His will for my life. I joined the UC in Washington, DC, in 1969, at age 21. After just a couple of months I moved to New Haven to pioneer the first center in New England. After the first speaking tour by TF, I was sent as a state pioneer to Oklahoma. In 1975 I was one of the 120 US missionaries sent out to the world. I went to Egypt, my first choice when asked. I studied Arabic and Islam, and started a language institute. I was deported twice and imprisoned once. In December 1979 I was appointed the first regional director of the Middle East, and soon after made Cyprus my base. In 1992, I was appointed first continental director for the Middle East and North Africa. In addition to leading the church in that difficult region (some 21 countries), I was founding publisher and editor of the Middle East Times (owned by News World Communications), I organized regional academic conferences for PWPA in the Middle East and for East-West European dialogue in the last years of the Cold War, organized inter-faith conferences with IRF-offshoot organizations, and carried out countless other missions in the region.

In 1999 I resigned my Unification Church responsibilities. I could not go on. What I was preaching and telling others about the Unification path had become too far removed from the reality of an organization riddled with corruption and dishonesty. I also could no longer present myself and my family as a model of what we believed. I came to believe that by staying active in the UC I would actually be contributing to the damage being done to TP’s rightful legacy.

In 2000 Mr. Joo fired me as publisher and editor of the Middle East Times, after 18 years of service. I had opposed the purchase of UPI (after conducting due diligence on its London operation for Mr. Joo) on the basis that I thought it was unjustified to ask members to contribute more money to a venture with such uncertain objectives and of such uncertain value to the providence. Mr. Joo offered to put me in charge of the UPI operation in London, and to combine that with the Middle East Times. It was tempting, but how could I accept a post to run an operation that I had advised against purchasing? Mr. Joo tried blackmail. He told me if I did not accept the UPI job, he would fire me from the Middle East Times. I refused to take the job, and he did fire me, ending all my formal ties with the UC and its projects.

I write all of this because I want you to know that I did not give the best 30 years of my life to an organization that would be run by a leadership as corrupt as yours. And I did not raise my children to live for God and TP so that they could be abused by self-centered and carnal UC leaders, as you and your staff have proved to be.

UC foreign missionaries typically had the benefit of living far from the center of action with its inevitable politics. Occasionally we would come to conferences and training seminars, and we would see changes taking place in the UC, good and bad. For me, my personal relationship with Father was deepened by living and working in very challenging circumstances, and often alone. I had had some difficulty connecting to him when I worked in the US, but I came to understand him better as my own mission overseas unfolded. My personal relationship with him was cemented in a jail cell in Cairo.

But I never understood you children of TP. You were so distant; elevated on pedestals. Sometimes I would hear how difficult your lives had been. That was hard to believe, but I tried. (After all, the lives of Moses and the people of God in the wilderness, of the tribes in Babylon, of Jesus and the early Christians in the Roman Empire, of the Jews in Nazi Germany, of the Cambodians under Pol Pot, of the Russians under Stalin, of Arabs under dictators… those were difficult lives.)

The truth as I see it today is that some of you children of TP, who have received blessings above all others in history, are in fact the most trenchant problem facing the future of the Unification Church. You should be the central people cementing the legacy of TP, but all I see from you is the selfishness and bickering of spoiled brats. You fight over UC assets as if you created them or as if they belonged to you or your family. You spend millions of precious dollars donated by members to fight your legal battles against one another. I had a front row seat as Hyun Jin systematically dismantled The Washington Times simply to spite his siblings and gain leverage for his own ambitions, and despite his knowing the great love and personal investment TP had made to build up that newspaper over decades. I see derisive, often petty, letters go back and forth from one sibling camp to another. It’s truly nauseating.

We are told of the evil Kwak group, as if Hyun Jin was a victim of the diabolical machinations of that once central disciple. But, no, Kwak is not the central problem. Hyun Jin is. Kwak was my central figure for some 20 years. It is clear to me that in the end he was seduced by the lure of wealth and financial security to go against TP. He had bet on Hyun Jin when that son was anointed the fourth Adam. He could not accept the change of providence. He is like your staff members, who now depend on salaries from HSA-UWC. Because of their lack of character and understanding, they go along with your perversion of the Principle and TP’s traditions. They are your enablers, as Kwak is the chief enabler of Hyun Jin.

The arrogance you display is sickening. Do you really think members are so dumb and ignorant of the truth to accept your weird polygamy as a new standard for Unificationism? Do you really think you can continue indefinitely to preach a life of living the Principle while hiding your life of adultery and deception?

The first priesthood God created was that of the Levite Aaron and his four sons. God instructed Moses in how to guide Aaron’s family in these serious responsibilities. Mistakes were to be punished by death, and were. When two of Aaron’s four sons lit incense without permission they were immediately killed by God. Through Moses, God pounded the law into the “stiff-necked” Israelites. Its main tenets are repeated in Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy, and were repeated again and again by other prophets and patriarchs in the centuries that followed. It is a blunt law. Sins of murder, adultery and homosexual relations are punishable by death. So too are violations of the Sabbath, and a host of other specific infractions of the law. God provided for the Levites through tithes made by members of the other tribes, and when the Israelites entered Canaan the Levites were given 48 cities to reside in but were not given a portion of the land to occupy. (Ephraim and Manassah, the sons of Joseph, were treated as separate tribes and each got land to occupy, bringing the total number of tribal territories to 12.) Meanwhile, the lineage of the messiah ran through the generations of Judah.

Jesus was of Judah, but as Hebrews explains, he was also of the order of Melchizedek. That is, although he was not a Levite, he was chosen by God to teach and save the people. His moral teaching went far beyond the Mosaic Law. He of course condemned sexual immorality, but he went further, warning that adultery of the heart was a sin. He stressed circumcision of the heart, even as Moses had taught the Israelites. TheLevitical class at the time of Jesus did not grasp, or want to obey, this law, as evidenced by their rejection of Jesus.

Paul also stressed the importance of purity to the early Christians. In fact he contradicted the Levites when he preached fervently that anyone who was circumcised in heart could be saved by Christ, whether Jew or Gentile. And he warned the new churches which he founded and nurtured that they should put out of their midst those with uncircumcised hearts who practiced idolatry, sexual immorality and other perversions of the Gospel.

The Unification standard is higher yet. It demands that we not only create within ourselves an uncircumcised heart, but that we cultivate a heart in the image of God’s own infinite heart of love. We are not complete simply by avoiding sin, but only through fulfilling our potential as children of God.

I don’t see this message in your behavior. You are blessed to be in the lineage of TP, but you have not qualified as a priest of the order of Melchizedek. This is because you have not treated your position of leadership as a sacred trust and responsibility, but rather as a birthright. It seems most of your siblings are in the same situation. We all sin, although we were taught that the true children would be sinless. To keep our hearts pure, we have to repent and change. It seems to me that you are unaware of your sin, and your enablers are complicit in maintaining that status quo by failing to challenge you. Instead they join you in the pretense that what you are doing is fine in the sight of God and TP. I don’t think I have ever heard one of you children repenting and asking for forgiveness from God and a membership that you have so often misused and abused. This is why God cannot use you for ultimate good, and for the growth of his church. It is why, too, you are ruining the Unification Church and the legacy of your parents.

It is not for me to judge your personal life, except as it intrudes on your mission as a UC leader, a role model for members, and someone with the power to hurt others, including my son. You should never have accepted the position you hold now, given the confusion in your personal life. And you certainly should have resigned as soon as you realized that your extra-marital affair would produce a child. You may believe that you have a perfectly valid basis for what you have done, but I can’t imagine any reasonable and moral person, let alone any true follower of TP and the Principle, accepting your behavior as consistent with the responsibilities of a UC leader.

I believe it is not entirely coincidental that this situation has blown up just as Father has ended his course on earth. I believe he will be able to do more in the spirit world. Clearly the state of his family was not improving despite all his prayers and efforts. If the central family is divided and corrupt, how will the providence ever advance? Yes, it is that serious.

This crisis has demonstrated that there is no robust, clear, circumcised and unified UC leadership. While an official memo went out announcing your resignation, ‘for health reasons’, unofficial communications explained the truth. What are members in Africa, Asia and Latin America, let alone in the US and America, to believe? Where is the guidance that all members deserve at a time like this?

Again, In Jin, the problem is you. Because you have not repented or apologized, because you have directed your staff to punish those who exposed your sin instead of telling the truth about it, because you and they have spun a webs of lies designed to confuse members about your sin in the name of some Oprahesque theory of love, you will now be responsible for the loss of faith by many good and faithful people, and especially young members trying to find their way in a confusing world of false idols and sin, members who looked up to you as their role model.

I don’t know the members who work with you. But they too have failed the rest of the membership and the institution of the UC itself. How can they stand before a congregation when they have been complicit in your unprincipled duplicity? How can they provide credible advice and guidance to members? How can they claim authority to represent God, TP and the Principle?

I don’t think I am alone among members and others who have dedicated long years to the UC cause who are now shocked and disgusted by what they witness. They too are concerned with the future for the children they raised in the faith and whose spiritual lives are at risk. Many have turned their backs on the UC because of the mismanagement, corruption and outright evil committed by its leaders.

Enough is enough. It is time for you and your errant siblings, along with your enablers and other unclean UC leaders, to step back and listen to the real word of God that can only come through the mouths of those circumcised in heart whom He chooses to be his messengers and representatives. Perhaps the most recently anointed son can save your family and the church. I don’t know. Judah was chosen by God, but when it failed to listen to His commandments, when it persisted in idolatry and corruption despite the warnings of the prophets, it was completely destroyed, as was the temple in Jerusalem. Times have changed but I believe if you do not step aside and allow the UC to be renewed and rebuilt as the real embodiment of God, TP and the Principle, it too will be destroyed and God will find other means, other institutions and other people to represent Him on earth.

May God’s Will be done.

Thomas Cromwell

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dfroza · 4 years

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“i love you so much!”

And the need of learning to get along, including the things we choose to think about, that we meditate upon is seen written to us in Today’s reading of the Letter of Philippians with chapter 4:

My dear, dear friends! I love you so much. I do want the very best for you. You make me feel such joy, fill me with such pride. Don’t waver. Stay on track, steady in God.

[Pray About Everything]

I urge Euodia and Syntyche to iron out their differences and make up. God doesn’t want his children holding grudges.

And, oh, yes, Syzygus, since you’re right there to help them work things out, do your best with them. These women worked for the Message hand in hand with Clement and me, and with the other veterans—worked as hard as any of us. Remember, their names are also in the Book of Life.

Celebrate God all day, every day. I mean, revel in him! Make it as clear as you can to all you meet that you’re on their side, working with them and not against them. Help them see that the Master is about to arrive. He could show up any minute!

Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life.

Summing it all up, friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies.

[Content Whatever the Circumstances]

I’m glad in God, far happier than you would ever guess—happy that you’re again showing such strong concern for me. Not that you ever quit praying and thinking about me. You just had no chance to show it. Actually, I don’t have a sense of needing anything personally. I’ve learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I’m just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I’ve found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am. I don’t mean that your help didn’t mean a lot to me—it did. It was a beautiful thing that you came alongside me in my troubles.

You Philippians well know, and you can be sure I’ll never forget it, that when I first left Macedonia province, venturing out with the Message, not one church helped out in the give-and-take of this work except you. You were the only one. Even while I was in Thessalonica, you helped out—and not only once, but twice. Not that I’m looking for handouts, but I do want you to experience the blessing that issues from generosity.

And now I have it all—and keep getting more! The gifts you sent with Epaphroditus were more than enough, like a sweet-smelling sacrifice roasting on the altar, filling the air with fragrance, pleasing God no end. You can be sure that God will take care of everything you need, his generosity exceeding even yours in the glory that pours from Jesus. Our God and Father abounds in glory that just pours out into eternity. Yes.

Give our regards to every follower of Jesus you meet. Our friends here say hello. All the Christians here, especially the believers who work in the palace of Caesar, want to be remembered to you.

Receive and experience the amazing grace of the Master, Jesus Christ, deep, deep within yourselves.

The Letter of Philippians, Chapter 4 (The Message)

with these lines repeated in The Voice that reflects upon allowing the peace of God to guard us from worry and fear:

For this reason, brothers and sisters, my joy and crown whom I dearly love, I cannot wait to see you again. Continue to stand firm in the Lord, and follow my instructions in this letter, beloved. Euodia and Syntyche, I urge you to put aside your differences, agree, and work together in the Lord. Yes, Syzygus, loyal friend, I enlist you to please help these women. They, along with brother Clement and many others, have worked by my side to spread the good news of the gospel. They have their names recorded in the book of life.

Most of all, friends, always rejoice in the Lord! I never tire of saying it: Rejoice! Keep your gentle nature so that all people will know what it looks like to walk in His footsteps. The Lord is ever present with us. Don’t be anxious about things; instead, pray. Pray about everything. He longs to hear your requests, so talk to God about your needs and be thankful for what has come. And know that the peace of God (a peace that is beyond any and all of our human understanding) will stand watch over your hearts and minds in Jesus, the Anointed One.

Finally, brothers and sisters, fill your minds with beauty and truth. Meditate on whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is good, whatever is virtuous and praiseworthy. Keep to the script: whatever you learned and received and heard and saw in me—do it—and the God of peace will walk with you.

The Letter of Philippians, Chapter 4:1-9 (The Voice)

with Today’s paired chapter being Exodus 8 where we see the continued stubbornness of Pharaoh in facing Moses and Aaron and their request (God’s request) to let the Jews go:

[Strike Two: Frogs]

God said to Moses, “Go to Pharaoh and tell him, ‘God’s Message: Release my people so they can worship me. If you refuse to release them, I’m warning you, I’ll hit the whole country with frogs. The Nile will swarm with frogs—they’ll come up into your houses, into your bedrooms and into your beds, into your servants’ quarters, among the people, into your ovens and pots and pans. They’ll be all over you, all over everyone—frogs everywhere, on and in everything!’”

God said to Moses, “Tell Aaron, ‘Wave your staff over the rivers and canals and ponds. Bring up frogs on the land of Egypt.’”

Aaron stretched his staff over the waters of Egypt and a mob of frogs came up and covered the country.

But again the magicians did the same thing using their incantations—they also produced frogs in Egypt.

Pharaoh called in Moses and Aaron and said, “Pray to God to rid us of these frogs. I’ll release the people so that they can make their sacrifices and worship God.”

Moses said to Pharaoh, “Certainly. Set the time. When do you want the frogs out of here, away from your servants and people and out of your houses? You’ll be rid of frogs except for those in the Nile.”

“Make it tomorrow.”

Moses said, “Tomorrow it is—so you’ll realize that there is no God like our God. The frogs will be gone. You and your houses and your servants and your people, free of frogs. The only frogs left will be the ones in the Nile.”

Moses and Aaron left Pharaoh, and Moses prayed to God about the frogs he had brought on Pharaoh. God responded to Moses’ prayer: The frogs died off—houses, courtyards, fields, all free of frogs. They piled the frogs in heaps. The country reeked of dead frogs.

But when Pharaoh saw that he had some breathing room, he got stubborn again and wouldn’t listen to Moses and Aaron. Just as God had said.

[Strike Three: Gnats]

God said to Moses, “Tell Aaron, ‘Take your staff and strike the dust. The dust will turn into gnats all over Egypt.’”

He did it. Aaron grabbed his staff and struck the dust of the Earth; it turned into gnats, gnats all over people and animals. All the dust of the Earth turned into gnats, gnats everywhere in Egypt.

The magicians tried to produce gnats with their incantations but this time they couldn’t do it. There were gnats everywhere, all over people and animals.

The magicians said to Pharaoh, “This is God’s doing.” But Pharaoh was stubborn and wouldn’t listen. Just as God had said.

[Strike Four: Flies]

God said to Moses, “Get up early in the morning and confront Pharaoh as he goes down to the water. Tell him, ‘God’s Message: Release my people so they can worship me. If you don’t release my people, I’ll release swarms of flies on you, your servants, your people, and your homes. The houses of the Egyptians and even the ground under their feet will be thick with flies. But when it happens, I’ll set Goshen where my people live aside as a sanctuary—no flies in Goshen. That will show you that I am God in this land. I’ll make a sharp distinction between your people and mine. This sign will occur tomorrow.’”

And God did just that. Thick swarms of flies in Pharaoh’s palace and the houses of his servants. All over Egypt, the country ruined by flies.

Pharaoh called in Moses and Aaron and said, “Go ahead. Sacrifice to your God—but do it here in this country.”

Moses said, “That would not be wise. What we sacrifice to our God would give great offense to Egyptians. If we openly sacrifice what is so deeply offensive to Egyptians, they’ll kill us. Let us go three days’ journey into the wilderness and sacrifice to our God, just as he instructed us.”

Pharaoh said, “All right. I’ll release you to go and sacrifice to your God in the wilderness. Only don’t go too far. Now pray for me.”

Moses said, “As soon as I leave here, I will pray to God that tomorrow the flies will leave Pharaoh, his servants, and his people. But don’t play games with us and change your mind about releasing us to sacrifice to God.”

Moses left Pharaoh and prayed to God. God did what Moses asked. He got rid of the flies from Pharaoh and his servants and his people. There wasn’t a fly left. But Pharaoh became stubborn once again and wouldn’t release the people.

The Book of Exodus, Chapter 8 (The Message)

my personal reading of the Scriptures for Wednesday, march 25 of 2020 with a paired chapter from each Testament along with Today’s Psalms and Proverbs

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thecoroutfitters · 6 years

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I’ve got some news for you; prepping isn’t something new. In fact, prepping has existed ever since mankind crawled out of the trees and became hunter-gatherers, sometime back in prehistoric times.

Humans couldn’t have survived the winter in colder climates, if they hadn’t learned how to become preppers. They would have starved to death.

What makes prepping seem like something new is that since the start of the industrial revolution, we have moved farther and farther away from a survival mentality, and have instead adopted a luxury-based mentality.

The average person in western culture doesn’t think about what they need to have in order to survive, because those things are all readily available, as long as one has money to buy them.

But for most of human history, the economic base for society wasn’t industry, it was agriculture. Everyone needed to eat; and before the industrial revolution created the farm equipment of today, the vast majority of people were employed in agriculture, making sure that we could all eat.

This meant taking advantage of the growing season, so that there would be enough food to make it through the annual “disaster,” called winter. If your farm was successful and you had a good harvest, you could eat. If not, you’d better find another source of food; maybe your neighbor had better luck than you did.

Obviously, these farmers and the hunter-gatherers before them survived, or you and I wouldn’t be here today. So I’d say they must have known a thing or two about survival.

The question for us, is what did they know, which we could learn from them?

Teaching Your Children

The early survival lessons were hard learned. The school of hard knocks is a really tough task-master, with an extremely steep grading curve. You either learned, or you died. Survival was nothing more than a passing grade.

With lessons being so costly to learn, you can be sure that parents taught their children everything they knew. Fathers taught their sons and mothers taught their daughters in the only way they could, making their children work side-by-side with them, as they did the things they needed to do to survive. Failure to do so was costly, as the children would probably not survive.

This included a wide range of skills. They couldn’t just go to the store for things they needed and commerce probably hadn’t even reached the point of a stable barter system.

Basically, if you needed something, you had to make it yourself; so you’d better know how. That meant you’d better teach your children as well.

Hunting and Tracking

I’m not sure how it is in the rest of the country, but where I live, hunting consists of hiding in a blind and baiting deer (and other animals) into killing range with feed corn.

That’s not the way I learned to hunt as a child and I’m sure it’s not the way that our prehistoric ancestors hunted. For them, hunting meant tracking animals to find them and killing them with primitive weapons.

If the average hunter today was forced to track their game, they would probably starve to death. Most can’t even identify animal tracks and sign, let alone knowing how old they are or what other messages those tracks might be sending.

In addition to tracking animals, our prehistoric ancestors learned their habits. They didn’t have to follow game around for days, as they knew how to find where they slept, where they ate and where they went for water.

So they could stake out those areas, awaiting the arrival of their prey, a much more efficient way to hunt.

Making Weapons

Those prehistoric hunters had to make their own weapons as well. There are three weapons which have been passed through the ages; the knife, the spear and the bow.

While they have all gone through numerous design changes through the years, we find all three of these still in use today. That speaks volumes about their effectiveness.

Making weapons is an art, especially making them from natural materials, using only primitive tools to work with.

Being able to shape a bow out of a tree branch, with nothing more to work with than a stone knife and other rocks, can’t be easy.

Yet these hunters did just that, along with knapping arrowheads, spear points and knives.

While it is hard to imagine society falling to the point where the ability to make our own weapons, for both hunting and defense, is essential for survival; the possibility does exist.

An even greater possibility exists for having to make such weapons if we are suddenly thrust into a wilderness survival situation. Should that happen, our ability to make these weapons could very well spell the difference between life and death.

Finding Natural Shelter

I seriously doubt that mankind started out building houses, even the primitive sorts of houses made by indigenous tribes. Rather, what little evidence exists, shows that our earliest ancestors lived in caves, something they probably learned from wild animals.

Caves are actually excellent natural shelters, providing the essentials of protection from rain and wind, as well as doing a fairly good job of holding in heat.

Some prehistoric people groups, such as the Indians who populated Mesa Verde, improved upon their natural caves by using stones to make rooms, dividing large caves into private habitations for multiple families.

The idea of building homes came from these people migrating to areas where there were no natural caves to live in. So they were forced to use whatever materials were at hand to build an artificial cave. I imagine those first houses were rather primitive by today’s standards, but they did the job, protecting their owners from the elements.

Sadly, we don’t have any examples of what they looked like, so that we could learn their technique. But I would venture to guess, they were simply more primitive or rustic versions of the native houses we have seen.

Making Clothing from Animal Skins

According to the Book of Genesis, the first clothing was made by sewing fig leaves together. While that may have covered their bodies, I’m sure it didn’t wear well. God solved that problem for Adam and Eve by killing animals and making them clothes out of the animal’s skins.

One of the many ways that mankind is unique is our need for clothing. No other species on the face of the Earth needs to wear clothes; those that need it, have fur to keep them warm. But even the hairiest of humans doesn’t have enough hair to do much for retaining warmth.

Using the skins of animals that they had hunted is a logical solution to the problem of clothing. After all, those pelts kept the animals warm, so therefore, they should work to keep people warm as well. The amazing thing is that prehistoric man figured out how to tan leather, so that those skins would last and then figured out how to sew it together to make clothes.

But rare is the hunter today that has any idea of how to tan their own hides, making it into useful leather or pelts. Rather, we send it off to commercial operations which do that for us. If we were ever caught in a long-term survival situation, knowing how tan hides would be an extremely useful skill.

Edible Wild Plants

As preppers, it seems that we focus more on the hunter side of being hunter-gatherers. I personally don’t have an issue with this, since I’m a definite carnivore. But in a survival situation, knowing what plants are safe to eat is a real boon to the diet.

I’ve been at this survival stuff for a long time, over 40 years. But I am still weak on edible plant recognition. It’s not that I haven’t studied it, it’s that I don’t use that knowledge. So, I end up losing it and need to study it again.

If we aren’t eating the edible plants that nature provides, there is no way that we are going to retain that knowledge for a very long.

The Value of Medicinal Plants

Speaking of plants, early medicine was all herbal medicine. There wasn’t a pharmaceutical industry. Doctors, by whatever name, learned what plants could be used for treating various ailments and how to use them. This information was closely guarded and passed on to an apprentice by word of mouth.

Those early doctors had to gather their own plants and make their own medicines, which consisted mostly of poultices and teas. While I’m sure there are many things they couldn’t treat, they obviously had some success, because their knowledge developed into the modern Medical Industry.

Even today, there are people who are experts in natural medicine, deriving medicines from plants. But these people are largely ignored in modern society, mostly because doctors use products produced by pharmaceutical houses.

But that doesn’t negate the value of natural medicine, as many of the medicines we use today have their roots in those natural medicines. All the pharmaceutical companies do is find artificial ways of creating things that nature provides to us.

If a serious enough of a disaster were to occur, such as an EMP, pharmaceuticals would run out quickly, leaving us without any medicines, other than natural medicines. Having the knowledge of what plants can be used for medicines and how to use them would be an incredibly useful skill in such a situation.

Situational Awareness

I think the American Indians (who qualify as a prehistoric people because they don’t have a written history) and other warlike tribal peoples invented the whole idea of situational awareness. Life was dangerous for these people, full of not only dangers from nature, but from other tribes as well.

The ability to recognize danger, before it manifests is a critical skill; one that is truly lacking in the world today. The world around us, especially the animal kingdom, is sending us constant messages of reassurance or danger, yet we don’t recognize them. We merely hear the birds chirping and think how nice it sounds, not that it might actually mean something.

The Value of Community

Early man was tribal, with the village being the tribe. This was even true of migratory people who followed the animals they hunted. Banding together helped them in the hunt, in defense and in sharing other common tasks. Ultimately, this made survival easier for them and led to the establishment of cities and society.

This is probably another skill that prehistoric man learned from watching animals. Many species of animals live in groups or herds. Predators found it easier to hunt together in packs and their prey found it easier to survive by staying together and presenting a united front. While some always died, the herd itself survived, which was the important part.

As mankind banded together, individuals began to specialize in specific tasks, putting their energies into performing those tasks and becoming more adept at them. This led to the beginning of the barter system, where these skilled artisans would trade their handwork for other things they needed.

Specialization was an important stepping stone in the development of society, as it increased the efficiency of individuals’ work, while at the same time providing a platform for improvement and innovation. Those who specialized in making certain handicrafts developed the skills and interest necessary to find ways of improving their products.

Through this, new features improved the traditional weapons and tools that primitive man used. Over the course of time, this actually led to the industrial revolution.

Waste Not

Primitive man didn’t waste anything. We see this best, through examining the culture of the American Indians. They used every part of the animals the killed, letting nothing go to waste. Internal organs, which were not eaten, were often made into containers, sinew was turned into bow strings, bone became tools and weapon handles, and skins turned into clothing and housing.

You never found a waste dump located next to an Indian village. That’s because there wasn’t any garbage to throw away. Rather, they made use of pretty much everything in one way or another.

Should we find ourselves in a survival situation, we would need to do the same!

This article has been written by Bill White for Survivopedia.

from Survivopedia Don't forget to visit the store and pick up some gear at The COR Outfitters. How prepared are you for emergencies? #SurvivalFirestarter #SurvivalBugOutBackpack #PrepperSurvivalPack #SHTFGear #SHTFBag

#SHTF #TEOTWAWKI #MARTIALLAW #BUGOUT #PREPPERBAG #USAF #USSOCOM #ARMY #NAVY #SurvivalFirestarter #Sur

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orsimergoddess · 5 years

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Kina

Glasha came to Largashbur the year after Jarl Ulfric’s revolt. Pregnant and displaced, she desired safety and home comforts for herself and her unborn child. The priestess Atub looked at the unfamiliar Orsimer woman. As Glasha passed through the gates, all eyes were on her. She approached Atub, knowing her position by looking at her. Glasha got on her knees and prayed aloud to Malacath, showing her devotion to their God. As the prayer came to an end Atub motioned for Glasha to follow into the Longhouse of the Chieftain.

Quietly and without much commotion coming from the others over the new Woman in the Stronghold, Glasha was placed in Umurn’s care. Umurn was reserved, as is the Osimer custom, but kind towards Glasha. He knew her story was close to his, but the head count so much higher. Glasha’s home was destroyed by Nords from the Eastmarch Hold. Angry at the signing of the White-Gold Concordat, many Mer, High-elf and not lost their lives in the Eastmarch massacre.

Umurn knew the pain of loss, his first wife taken by the revolt as it spread across Skyrim and her Holds. She was pregnant with their only child, Glasha only a year later came as an answer to Umurn’s pleads to the Malacath. This wold be the last time Malacath would bless the Largashbur and the Mer whom dwell within.

**~~~**

Kina came to be months after Glasha made her way to Largashbur. The infant was smaller than an average Orsimer infant, but she was never weak nor sickly. She sprouted like thistle in the summer, she grew from infant to toddler to a young child.

Still smaller than any of the children born the same season as she. Kina was strong and growing stronger, what she lacked in size she made up for in speed. her long arms were perfect for drawing a bow and fighting in close combat, paired with her lithe figure she made herself into a hard target to hit.

At 5 Kina could fight as well as any Orsimer child, Umurn could see her warriors spirit and on her Name day, he gifted her a pair of the most delicate looking daggers, made of Orichalchum, the hilts fashioned out of animal bones, the deep green stones were razor sharp on each side. Giddily Kina shows her mother who pretends to disapprove. This was the only time either of them saw Umurn crack a smile. He had become a proud Papa.

**~~~**

It had started out as a warm Spring day, Kina had spent the morning weaving baskets with her mother, it neared midday when the thunderous shakes came. As if Malacath trembled the earth in anger, it only became louder as the minutes pass. It stopped after a jarring trumpeting came from outside the gates. Mammoths.

Mammoths only brought one thing, Giants. It was at this moment Umurn came out of the hut in search of his wife and child. As he stepped out the guards tower seemed to explode, it was then he saw the largest Giant he’d ever witnessed. Umurn’s face blanched at the sight, he began to run across the Stronghold, frantically hollering for Glasha. He could not lose another love, another child. His screams drew the attention of a second Giant, Umurn was thrown against the cliff face, a smear of crimson remained on the rock. Umurn peeled off the surface like a rag doll he twisted and contorted rolling to the bottom of the hill.

Glasha and Kina ran to hide behind a hut near the cliff face, “Here! Kina, don’t look darling.” Pulling Kina in close to her bosom, “Shut your eyes, don’t open them for anything. No matter what you hear.” Kina obeyed her mother, not understanding what was happening around her.

Trying not to scream as Umurn’s broken body rolled down the rocky hillside. It’s happening again! Glasha’s consciousness screamed. Holding tight to Kina she waited for an opening. A massive leg strode over Glasha, she stared up at the largest Giant she’d set her eyes upon.

The second came from North of the Stronghold, smashing warriors left and right as they tried and failed to defend their home.

Atub ran from the longhouse along with her family. Screaming to void she said, “MALACATH HAS LEFT US. THIS IS OUR CURSE!”

Glasha watched in terror as the priestess abandoned the Stronghold, running madly into the wilderness with the chieftain and their sons in tow. Glasha turned her attention to her trembling child, she knew in her position, they could not both make it.

Removing her bow and quiver, Glasha adjusted the quivers strap, putting it down before letting Kina open her eyes. “Listen to me Kina, when I tell you, you must run. Run South, towards Riften.”

Kina shook her head, froen in fear.

“You have to go, I will be right behind you.” Glasha picks up the bow and quiver, adjusting them to fit Kina’s tiny frame. “Take these, do you have the daggers Papa gave you?”

Kina nodded as tears dripped from her chin. “I can’t go Momma. I can’t move.”

Glasha shook her daughter roughly nearly knocking her off her feet. “GO! I will be right behind you, you need to keep running. I will be there right behind you.”

Glasha stood, as she did the movement caught the eyes of a third Giant that came from the west. /rumbling stomps came closer to the spot where Kina was still hidden. Glasha knew it was getting closer without looking, she ran from Kina, screaming for her daughter to run.

Kina ran South, without looking back she continued after the adrenaline wore off until she tripped on a root hidden under the mossy ground, face first into the dirt Kina succumbed to the ehaustion and everything went dark.

**~~~**

Waking up to the dark of night, Kina slowly lifted herself from where she collapsed. She felt sore, weak and hungry. Standing carefully, making sure nothing had broken.

Hunger drove her step by step that night through the forest. Daylight came soon, sooner after she began to see cobblestones in the dirt. She headed South, like her mother said. Momma will be in Riften. Kina thought to herself, this made her change to a faster pace. After an hour of trekking south Kina spotted the city walls. Her mother never said where to meet in Riften. Kina didn’t care, she bolted towards the gates.

The gates were closed and guarded. Kina was nervous approaching the stocky men in heavy steel armor. Slowly and ringing her hands she got near enough for the guards to take notice.

“Aye, look at this wee beast ‘ere.” the left guard nudged the other who had a flaming beard sticking out from under the helmet. The red bearded guard pretended not to notice the smaller than average Orsimer whelp.

“Just ignore it, they’re like animals you know, cant speak.”

Kina’s temper flared but said nothing.

Glasha’s voice came clearly, “Pick your battles darling.”

Kina whipped herself around, only to find disappointment in finding no one behind her. Slowly she turned back to the guards that lost interest in her.

“Have you seen my mother?” Kina’s voice sounded foreign. It had been days since she had spoken to anyone.

The red bearded guard piped up. “Fuck off little pig shit!” Striding towards Kina the guard raised the blunt end of his spear and struck her in the chest, knocking the wind out of the girl. The left guard looked up and spit in Kina’s direction.

She realied that even if they had seen Glasha, they didn’t care. Picking herself up slowly she turned and started walking down the road. Dragging her feet she turned left, discovering that behind the dirt hill and city wall there was a home, Tucked behind a stable, holding two of the largest horses Kina had ever seen.

Kina had seen horses before, but never up close as the Strongholds had no use for the beasts. Slowly she made her way across the yard towards the great dappled horses.

From the small courtyard in front of the house, a large silver haired man eyed the curious girl. He had been resting in the shade before returning to his duties. Curious to see what the girl would do, he stayed put to observe.

Kina had reached the first stable opening, the horse residing within turned it’s head to look at the strange biped approaching. The animal turned to face the girl, lowering it’s head to smell her.

Kina giggled in delight at the curious horse nuling her. Unfortunately she had no food for treats, as her stomach grumbled she was reminded she had none for herself. Patting the large horse Kina went into the stall, hoping perhaps some carrots or an apple had been dropped from the beasts feeding bin.

This bold move made the man in the shade nervous, afraid the child may be harmed by accident. Leaping to his feet he strode across the yard as quickly he could without startling the horses. “Hey, hey wait!” he shouted as he made it to the stables before Kina ventured further.

Frightened by the large man approaching Kina leaped through the open wall and sprinted down the road. By the time she stopped she was far from the stables and the large man was no where to be seen.

Ahead of her by a few yards was a farm, Kina stared at the water trough. Remembering her thirst Kina made a mad dash for it, falling to her knees in front of the dirty trough. She drank deeply not caring that the water was musty, grass and cud floating on the surface.

A Dunmer man and woman watched this girl run across their farm yard to gulp down the water left for the livestock. The woman looked at the man, signaling for him to stay back a bit as they came closer.

The woman cleared her throat, “are you alright dear?” she asked quietly as to not startle Kina.

Kina quickly came to her feet and she turned to face the couple standing in front of her. Her breath quickened and she froe like a rabbit about to be caught by a hawk.

In an attempt to assure the frightened girl, the woman went to kneel to look Kina in the eyes. “Where are you parents little one?” she asked with concern.

Looking down, Kina shuffled her feet. Quietly she replied to the womans question. “Dead.” Looking the woman in the eye as she said it.

The man put a hand on his wife’s shoulder, speaking up. “Well, we have room as long as you are willing to work.” He looked back down at his wife, who looked back with a small smile.

“Yes, would you like that?” Pulling a Honey candy from her pocket, she offered it to Kina. “I am Sadyn, this is my husband Dravin. This is our farm, Merryfair.”

Kina took the candy from Sadyn and held it, afraid if she ate it the day dream would end. Nodding, Kina took Sadyn’s outreached hand and followed her into the house.

#Fanfiction #skyrim #OC #original character #riften #merryfair farm #dunmer #orsimer #nord #riften stables #largashbur

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littlepuddingsugg · 7 years

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Skinny Dipping

Request: Y/N and Joe go skinny dipping.

“C’mon love it’ll be dark by the time we get there at the pace we’re going” Joe said as he stopped to turn around to look at you.

“Oi you're one to talk.” You said shooting Joe a look which only caused him to laugh as he walked back down the path towards you.

You had been so exited when Joe had surprised you with plane tickets to Hawaii on your birthday but you weren’t exactly expecting yourself to be hiking through the Hawaiian wilderness to go somewhere only Joe knew about.

Every time you had asked whereabouts you were going Joe just turned his head towards you and said “its a surprise”. Normally, you’d turn and run at those 3 little words because you’ve known Joe long enough to know that means trouble. But there wasn’t exactly anywhere to run unless you wanted to venture off the designated path and run into even more wildlife.

Joe assured you many times that this wasn’t a prank and in the back of your mind, you believed him. You knew that he wouldn’t have flown himself out here weeks in advance to set up cameras but you still were uneasy. And thats why you took your sweet time walking to wherever Joe was leading you too.

“We’re almost there love” Joe said taking your hand in his are you continued along the path.

“How do you know that? You’ve never been to Hawaii.”

“Its on the map love” Joe chuckled, “But I can’t show you the map or else it’l give away the surprise.”

He thought it was funny that you were so paranoid, you on the other hand didn’t.

“I swear Joseph if you’re taking me out here to kill me, I’m going to haunt you for the rest of your life.” You narrowed your eyes at him while he grind his famous grin.

“I would want nothing more love”

The two of you continued up the winding path for a while longer, waving and smiling to the passing tourists who would say things like “Oh you’re in for a real surprise” or “Make sure you have your camera out” which only made the nerves worse. You weren’t one for surprises for reasons already expressed and Joe knew that but for some reason, he thought that maybe you’d forget that you hated surprises and go along with one for a change.

There had been a constant noise in the background that you started to hear a while back down the path that only grew louder as you got closer. Joe pretended he didn’t hear it, claiming that its the sounds of nature that you were hearing which made you roll your eyes but as the sound got louder, you realized he wasn’t wrong.

The noise was the only thing that could be heard as you two rounded the last turn according to the map. You had been looking behind you making sure Joe hadn’t secretly flown one of the boys out to jump out from behind a bush to scare you when you ran into his back.

“Surprise love” Joe said looking at you and back to the source of the noise.

In front of you stood the bluest water you have ever seen, cascading down rock and rocks and spilling into a pool that was just as blue.

“Oh my god” you said as you stepped around Joe and closer to the waterfall in front of you. It was the first you’ve ever seen in person and you didn’t know how to express you’re thoughts or feelings so you stood there, mouth slight agape taking in the scenery.

“C’mon” Joe said grabbing your wrist and dragging you around the basin of the pool.

“Joe we just got here, where are we going?” You tried to protest but failed as you continued to be pulled along by your boyfriend.

“Somewhere a little more private” he said stopping once you guys had ran out of path to walk on.

Joe let go of your hand and started walking along the rocks that led to another plot of ground above the water.

“Are you coming or not?” Joe said turning around once he reached the other side.

You rolled your eyes as you made your way across the wet rocks. Joe continued on a few more feet in front of you until he stopped, dropping his bags in the process.

“What is this?” you said looking at the smaller blue pool before looking at your boyfriend.

“Our own private pool where we can do whatever we want out of the public eye” Joe winked before kicking off his shoes and ripping his top off.

Your eyes widened as Joe slipped his shorts and pants off leaving him completely naked in front of you. He gave you a cheeky grin before jumping into the pool with a splash.

“Come on in love. Its actually rather nice.”

“Joe, we can’t do this there are other people!” you yelled in the most hushed tone possible as you turn around to the source of children laughter coming from the other side of the waterfall.

“Love no one knows that this is over here, we’re fine. Now get in.”

“You knew this was over here”

“I know people Y/N. Don’t make me come throw you in myself.”

You stood there looking at your boyfriend who seemed to be enjoying himself but you couldn’t. You have never skinny dipped before because skinny dipping meant no clothes and that frightened you. Even though it was just you and Joe and that he had seen you naked before you still we’re sure. Joe picked up on your hesitation and quickly realized it wasn’t exactly about the other people.

You watched as he lifted his arms up out of the water and covered his eyes, laughing when you saw him peak through the cracks of his fingers.

“Love c’mon we don't have all day. Theres more surprises later on” He said fully turning around now so his back was facing you.

You let out a loud sigh as you let your bag slump to the ground before you kicked off your shoes and discarded you clothes as well. You made you way over to the edge before sucking in a breath of air and jumping in.

Joe’s hands found your body before you had even resurfaced. “See, I told you it was a nice surprise”

“What about the others?” You asked wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Well theres no way I'm topping a waterfall on this trip so don’t get your hopes up” he said before placing his lips on yours.

“You’re pretty great you know that?” You said pulling away from the kiss.

“I have to be, you deserve it” Joe said going back in a for a kiss.

“You know” You said pulling away from the kiss again and unwrapping your arms from his neck “I might have my own surprise for you.”

“Oh it that so?” Joe said with a smirk.

“Yeah but you’ll have to wait until tonight.” you said swimming away him when he tired to reach out of you again.

“Hey!” he exclaimed after he got a face full of water which caused you to laugh. “You’re going to get it now!” he said sending a wave of water you’re way.

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sxmbxdy-blog · 7 years

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How To Kill A Zombie:No Hesitation

It’s been about 2 months since I brought everyone together again. Thing’s were looking very promising, the crew was learning the way’s of the Kk’s surprisingly well. Dave was a natural. Ernest told me about his first time experiencing superhuman power, and seeing it through Dave saving them in a stair well. We met up not that long after those events in the same town, I had just happened to be passing through searching for myself. I was beginning to wonder though, how serious Dave was taking our mission. Granted right now all I was doing was training everyone, Dave was just having too much fun in the Cave. I would hear stories of how he would terrorize the women and children, I even heard a rumor he killed a husband just to force his wife to give him oral. When I would take him and Ernest out to train in fighting the more powerful and aware zombies, he showed signs of the same inhumanity as they did. I decided to go and have a talk with my friend, so I go to his room in the Wall. Upon arriving I did not like what I saw. Parts of zombies scattered around, heads hanging from the ceiling, some of them not the undead but I didn’t recognize any of them so I knew they weren’t apart of the Cave population. I knew then that something was up with him. I greeted him and asked him to come for a walk, “Come shmoka some of this Satans Kush with me homie.” I said. “You gotta wrap?” He asked in return. “You already shknow brodie.” I replied, and off we went through the tunnels I had carved to a small ledge overlooking the remains of Newport News. We smoked and talked. I asked him how he was feeling as of late and his reply was not to my liking. “I’ve been feeling very godly man, like since I discovered I had these powers and now you showing me how to refine and hone them, I feel like I deserve everything this new world has to offer, so I’m taking and going as I please. No one can stop me bro, like I’ve even been contemplating leaving and going off on my own, I don’t really like it here honestly, I feel as though niggas just don’t fuck with me, even though I’m just being me.” He told me, I could tell he was serious because he did not take his eyes off the sunset, so i knew he was thinking deeply. “You’re your own man Dave, you’re grown, You and only you can make those decisions for yourself, if you really want to leave I won’t stop you, your brother might, but that is between you and him. Just don’t leave with out him knowing alright, that is all I ask.”

…

In my travels and coming to find myself, I’ve come to the realization that there is no god, or gods, if you really want to believe in a god, the universe is your god. It created you, it is infinite, it hold’s all life’s mysteries, the universe is the answer to all your questions. Seek it out.

…

After me and Dave had our heart to heart, I decided it was best to go and talk to Ernest about our conversation being that was his only blood left in the new world. Repeating what was said to me, “Damn, that’s kinda tough, but I can understand why my nigga would feel that way.” Ernest replied to my first statement. “It is, and it isn’t, I really fear that Dave will either bring us all down, or be his own demise. I agree with him going out on his own, he’s an animal, he’ll survive perfectly in the new world until our mission is carried through. But I feel as though he doesn’t see what’s going on outside his mind on a daily day, I see him becoming more like the undead everyday and I fear it will break your heart to see him leave, so I’m leaving his care in your hands, if he stays you will have to really watch out for him, and if he leaves I need you to be okay with that and not let it affect you and the work you’re doing so well. I’m going to repeat myself, I really see Dave being the downfall of us all. I love my nigga but we’re losing him to the new world.” I replied and left him to think about what we talked about.

I went to my usual meditation spot, later joined by Darrio, Ernest, Victor, and Ayinde. “What is on your minds my niggas?” I asked. Ernest was the only one whom spoke, “I talked with Dave, thing’s got really heated and he pretty much denied ever having a conversation with you bro, so now I’m starting to wonder what your intentions in mine and yours earlier conversation.” He said to me. Half surprised, and half not caring, I reassured my innocence and defended both conversations. “I think he’s been bitten dude, I mean, have you seen his room at all E bro? It’s littered with undead remains, You of all people should know that I try to sway people from that behavior, every zombie we kill I have the person whom killed it incinerate it, I feel as though he’s been venturing out unannounced and unaccompanied. He’s straying from the group no matter how much he denies it and claims to want to be apart of it, he’s losing his sanity and becoming an animal, we must release him into the wild dude, he’ll be alright out there, among us he has the most potential to thrive in a world like ours outside in the wilderness.” My thought interrupted by the sound of screaming and the calling of my middle name “Saeed!! Help he’s trying to eat us!” I recognized the voice to be that of my wife. I transported the 5 of us to where my wife and son were, standing up on a ledge, Dave snarling and and naked, penis fully erect and covered in blood and foaming out the mouth. “Bro!” Ernest called to his older brother, upon hearing his voice David rushed all of us. I had no choice but to use my secret of secret powers, I transported him to another dimension, a dimension where Dave could Finally be Dave and not worry about the consequences. But because the process was very bloody, it looked as though he exploded sending his blood everywhere, Ernest grabbed me up and demanded an answer for what just happened. “What the FUCK KK!” he screamed in my emotionless face, “What did you do to him?!” He dropped me and fell to his knees and began to cry uncontrollably. The rest of the guys just staring out of sheer terror and amazement. I drop down and embrace him, now crying just as hard, “I had to do it bro.” I said through short breaths and sobbing, “He was gonna kill you, I tried to tell you he was turning.” I said before switching back to being emotionless, “You can’t hesitate in this new world my niggas, it’s even realer than what just happened now. But just know I didn’t do that, Ernest, I gave you that power when me and you had our talk, just the idea of Dave possibly becoming that made you prepare to handle it unknowingly, there are no gods among us, no devils, only man. We’ve just evolved. I told you Dave was going to leave us.” And in the death of our brother, we learned another of the many ways to kill a zombie. With no hesitation.

By no means do I consider myself an excellent writer, I’m giving you everything on my blog straight from my brain at the time I post. Thank you for reading, 4 more chapter’s until I start work on the novel.

#zombies #zombie #short story #writer #shinee #anime

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araitsume · 6 years

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Prophets and Kings, pp. 167-176: Chapter (13) "What Doest Thou Here?"

This chapter is based on 1 Kings 19:9-18.

Elijah's retreat on Mount Horeb, though hidden from man, was known to God; and the weary and discouraged prophet was not left to struggle alone with the powers of darkness that were pressing upon him. At the entrance to the cave wherein Elijah had taken refuge, God met with him, through a mighty angel sent to inquire into his needs and to make plain the divine purpose for Israel.

Not until Elijah had learned to trust wholly in God could he complete his work for those who had been seduced into Baal worship. The signal triumph on the heights of Carmel had opened the way for still greater victories; yet from the wonderful opportunities opening before him, Elijah had been turned away by the threat of Jezebel. The man of God must be made to understand the weakness of his present position as compared with the vantage ground the Lord would have him occupy.

God met His tried servant with the inquiry, What doest thou here, Elijah? I sent you to the brook Cherith and afterward to the widow of Sarepta. I commissioned you to return to Israel and to stand before the idolatrous priests on Carmel, and I girded you with strength to guide the chariot of the king to the gate of Jezreel. But who sent you on this hasty flight into the wilderness? What errand have you here?

In bitterness of soul Elijah mourned out his complaint: “I have been very jealous for the Lord God of hosts: for the children of Israel have forsaken Thy covenant, thrown down Thine altars, and slain Thy prophets with the sword; and I, even I only, am left; and they seek my life, to take it away.”

Calling upon the prophet to leave the cave, the angel bade him stand before the Lord on the mount, and listen to His word. “And, behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake: and after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice. And it was so, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle, and went out, and stood in the entering in of the cave.”

Not in mighty manifestations of divine power, but by “a still small voice,” did God choose to reveal Himself to His servant. He desired to teach Elijah that it is not always the work that makes the greatest demonstration that is most successful in accomplishing His purpose. While Elijah waited for the revelation of the Lord, a tempest rolled, the lightnings flashed, and a devouring fire swept by; but God was not in all this. Then there came a still, small voice, and the prophet covered his head before the presence of the Lord. His petulance was silenced, his spirit softened and subdued. He now knew that a quiet trust, a firm reliance on God, would ever find for him a present help in time of need.

It is not always the most learned presentation of God's truth that convicts and converts the soul. Not by eloquence or logic are men's hearts reached, but by the sweet influences of the Holy Spirit, which operate quietly yet surely in transforming and developing character. It is the still, small voice of the Spirit of God that has power to change the heart.

“What doest thou here, Elijah?” the voice inquired; and again the prophet answered, “I have been very jealous for the Lord God of hosts: because the children of Israel have forsaken Thy covenant, thrown down Thine altars, and slain Thy prophets with the sword; and I, even I only, am left; and they seek my life, to take it away.”

The Lord answered Elijah that the wrongdoers in Israel should not go unpunished. Men were to be especially chosen to fulfill the divine purpose in the punishment of the idolatrous kingdom. There was stern work to be done, that all might be given opportunity to take their position on the side of the true God. Elijah himself was to return to Israel, and share with others the burden of bringing about a reformation.

“Go,” the Lord commanded Elijah, “return on thy way to the wilderness of Damascus: and when thou comest, anoint Hazael to be king over Syria: and Jehu the son of Nimshi shalt thou anoint to be king over Israel: and Elisha the son of Shaphat of Abel-meholah shalt thou anoint to be prophet in thy room. And it shall come to pass, that him that escapeth the sword of Hazael shall Jehu slay: and him that escapeth from the sword of Jehu shall Elisha slay.”

Elijah had thought that he alone in Israel was a worshiper of the true God. But He who reads the hearts of all revealed to the prophet that there were many others who, through the long years of apostasy, had remained true to Him. “I have left Me,” God said, “seven thousand in Israel, all the knees which have not bowed unto Baal, and every mouth which hath not kissed him.”

From Elijah's experience during those days of discouragement and apparent defeat there are many lessons to be drawn, lessons invaluable to the servants of God in this age, marked as it is by general departure from right. The apostasy prevailing today is similar to that which in the prophet's day overspread Israel. In the exaltation of the human above the divine, in the praise of popular leaders, in the worship of mammon, and in the placing of the teachings of science above the truths of revelation, multitudes today are following after Baal. Doubt and unbelief are exercising their baleful influence over mind and heart, and many are substituting for the oracles of God the theories of men. It is publicly taught that we have reached a time when human reason should be exalted above the teachings of the Word. The law of God, the divine standard of righteousness, is declared to be of no effect. The enemy of all truth is working with deceptive power to cause men and women to place human institutions where God should be, and to forget that which was ordained for the happiness and salvation of mankind.

Yet this apostasy, widespread as it has come to be, is not universal. Not all in the world are lawless and sinful; not all have taken sides with the enemy. God has many thousands who have not bowed the knee to Baal, many who long to understand more fully in regard to Christ and the law, many who are hoping against hope that Jesus will come soon to end the reign of sin and death. And there are many who have been worshiping Baal ignorantly, but with whom the Spirit of God is still striving.

These need the personal help of those who have learned to know God and the power of His word. In such a time as this, every child of God should be actively engaged in helping others. As those who have an understanding of Bible truth try to seek out the men and women who are longing for light, angels of God will attend them. And where angels go, none need fear to move forward. As a result of the faithful efforts of consecrated workers, many will be turned from idolatry to the worship of the living God. Many will cease to pay homage to man-made institutions and will take their stand fearlessly on the side of God and His law.

Much depends on the unceasing activity of those who are true and loyal, and for this reason Satan puts forth every possible effort to thwart the divine purpose to be wrought out through the obedient. He causes some to lose sight of their high and holy mission, and to become satisfied with the pleasures of this life. He leads them to settle down at ease, or, for the sake of greater worldly advantages, to remove from places where they might be a power for good. Others he causes to flee in discouragement from duty, because of opposition or persecution. But all such are regarded by Heaven with tenderest pity. To every child of God whose voice the enemy of souls had succeeded in silencing, the question is addressed, “What doest thou here?” I commissioned you to go into all the world and preach the gospel, to prepare a people for the day of God. Why are you here? Who sent you?

The joy set before Christ, the joy that sustained Him through sacrifice and suffering, was the joy of seeing sinners saved. This should be the joy of every follower of His, the spur to his ambition. Those who realize, even in a limited degree, what redemption means to them and to their fellow men, will comprehend in some measure the vast needs of humanity. Their hearts will be moved to compassion as they see the moral and spiritual destitution of thousands who are under the shadow of a terrible doom, in comparison with which physical suffering fades into nothingness.

Of families, as of individuals, the question is asked, “What doest thou here?” In many churches there are families well instructed in the truths of God's word, who might widen the sphere of their influence by moving to places in need of the ministry they are capable of giving. God calls for Christian families to go into the dark places of the earth and work wisely and perseveringly for those who are enshrouded in spiritual gloom. To answer this call requires self-sacrifice. While many are waiting to have every obstacle removed, souls are dying, without hope and without God. For the sake of worldly advantage, for the sake of acquiring scientific knowledge, men are willing to venture into pestilential regions and to endure hardship and privation. Where are those who are willing to do as much for the sake of telling others of the Saviour?

If, under trying circumstances, men of spiritual power, pressed beyond measure, become discouraged and desponding, if at times they see nothing desirable in life, that they should choose it, this is nothing strange or new. Let all such remember that one of the mightiest of the prophets fled for his life before the rage of an infuriated woman. A fugitive, weary and travel-worn, bitter disappointment crushing his spirits, he asked that he might die. But it was when hope was gone and his lifework seemed threatened with defeat, that he learned one of the most precious lessons of his life. In the hour of his greatest weakness he learned the need and the possibility of trusting God under circumstances the most forbidding.

Those who, while spending their life energies in self-sacrificing labor, are tempted to give way to despondency and distrust, may gather courage from the experience of Elijah. God's watchful care, His love, His power, are especially manifest in behalf of His servants whose zeal is misunderstood or unappreciated, whose counsels and reproofs are slighted, and whose efforts toward reform are repaid with hatred and opposition.

It is at the time of greatest weakness that Satan assails the soul with the fiercest temptations. It was thus that he hoped to prevail over the Son of God; for by this policy he had gained many victories over man. When the will power weakened and faith failed, then those who had stood long and valiantly for the right yielded to temptation. Moses, wearied with forty years of wandering and unbelief, lost for a moment his hold on Infinite Power. He failed just on the borders of the Promised Land. So with Elijah. He who had maintained his trust in Jehovah during the years of drought and famine, he who had stood undaunted before Ahab, he who throughout that trying day on Carmel had stood before the whole nation of Israel the sole witness to the true God, in a moment of weariness allowed the fear of death to overcome his faith in God.

And so it is today. When we are encompassed with doubt, perplexed by circumstances, or afflicted by poverty or distress, Satan seeks to shake our confidence in Jehovah. It is then that he arrays before us our mistakes and tempts us to distrust God, to question His love. He hopes to discourage the soul and break our hold on God.

Those who, standing in the forefront of the conflict, are impelled by the Holy Spirit to do a special work, will frequently feel a reaction when the pressure is removed. Despondency may shake the most heroic faith and weaken the most steadfast will. But God understands, and He still pities and loves. He reads the motives and the purposes of the heart. To wait patiently, to trust when everything looks dark, is the lesson that the leaders in God's work need to learn. Heaven will not fail them in their day of adversity. Nothing is apparently more helpless, yet really more invincible, than the soul that feels its nothingness and relies wholly on God.

Not alone for men in positions of large responsibility is the lesson of Elijah's experience in learning anew how to trust God in the hour of trial. He who was Elijah's strength is strong to uphold every struggling child of His, no matter how weak. Of everyone He expects loyalty, and to everyone He grants power according to the need. In his own strength man is strengthless; but in the might of God he may be strong to overcome evil and to help others to overcome. Satan can never gain advantage of him who makes God his defense. “Surely, shall one say, in the Lord have I righteousness and strength.” Isaiah 45:24.

Fellow Christian, Satan knows your weakness; therefore cling to Jesus. Abiding in God's love, you may stand every test. The righteousness of Christ alone can give you power to stem the tide of evil that is sweeping over the world. Bring faith into your experience. Faith lightens every burden, relieves every weariness. Providences that are now mysterious you may solve by continued trust in God. Walk by faith in the path He marks out. Trials will come, but go forward. This will strengthen your faith and fit you for service. The records of sacred history are written, not merely that we may read and wonder, but that the same faith which wrought in God's servants of old may work in us. In no less marked manner will the Lord work now, wherever there are hearts of faith to be channels of His power.

To us, as to Peter, the word is spoken, “Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat: but I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not.” Luke 22:31, 32. Christ will never abandon those for whom He has died. We may leave Him and be overwhelmed with temptation, but Christ can never turn from one for whom He has paid the ransom of His own life. Could our spiritual vision be quickened, we should see souls bowed under oppression and burdened with grief, pressed as a cart beneath sheaves, and ready to die in discouragement. We should see angels flying quickly to the aid of these tempted ones, forcing back the hosts of evil that encompass them, and placing their feet on the sure foundation. The battles waging between the two armies are as real as those fought by the armies of this world, and on the issue of the spiritual conflict eternal destinies depend.

In the vision of the prophet Ezekiel there was the appearance of a hand beneath the wings of the cherubim. This is to teach God's servants that it is divine power that gives success. Those whom God employs as His messengers are not to feel that His work is dependent on them. Finite beings are not left to carry this burden of responsibility. He who slumbers not, who is continually at work for the accomplishment of His designs, will carry forward His work. He will thwart the purposes of wicked men and will bring to confusion the counsels of those who plot mischief against His people. He who is the King, the Lord of hosts, sitteth between the cherubim, and amidst the strife and tumult of nations He guards His children still. When the strongholds of kings shall be overthrown, when the arrows of wrath shall strike through the hearts of His enemies, His people will be safe in His hands.

#egw #Ellen G. White #Christianity #God #Jesus Christ #Bible #Elijah the Tishbite #persecution #doubt #God's presence #the influence of the Holy Spirit #doing God's work #prophets and kings #conflict of the ages

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araitsume · 6 years

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Prophets and Kings, pp. 155-166: Chapter (12) From Jezreel to Horeb

This chapter is based on 1 Kings 18:41-46; 19:1-8.

With the slaying of the prophets of Baal, the way was opened for carrying forward a mighty spiritual reformation among the ten tribes of the northern kingdom. Elijah had set before the people their apostasy; he had called upon them to humble their hearts and turn to the Lord. The judgments of Heaven had been executed; the people had confessed their sins, and had acknowledged the God of their fathers as the living God; and now the curse of Heaven was to be withdrawn, and the temporal blessings of life renewed. The land was to be refreshed with rain. “Get thee up, eat and drink,” Elijah said to Ahab; “for there is a sound of abundance of rain.” Then the prophet went to the top of the mount to pray.

It was not because of any outward evidence that the showers were about to fall, that Elijah could so confidently bid Ahab prepare for rain. The prophet saw no clouds in the heavens; he heard no thunder. He simply spoke the word that the Spirit of the Lord had moved him to speak in response to his own strong faith. Throughout the day he had unflinchingly performed the will of God and had revealed his implicit confidence in the prophecies of God's word; and now, having done all that was in his power to do, he knew that Heaven would freely bestow the blessings foretold. The same God who had sent the drought had promised an abundance of rain as the reward of rightdoing; and now Elijah waited for the promised outpouring. In an attitude of humility, “his face between his knees,” he interceded with God in behalf of penitent Israel.

Again and again Elijah sent his servant to a point overlooking the Mediterranean, to learn whether there were any visible token that God had heard his prayer. Each time the servant returned with the word, “There is nothing.” The prophet did not become impatient or lose faith, but continued his earnest pleading. Six times the servant returned with the word that there was no sign of rain in the brassy heavens. Undaunted, Elijah sent him forth once more; and this time the servant returned with the word, “Behold, there ariseth a little cloud out of the sea like a man's hand.”

This was enough. Elijah did not wait for the heavens to gather blackness. In that small cloud he beheld by faith an abundance of rain; and he acted in harmony with his faith, sending his servant quickly to Ahab with the message, “Prepare thy chariot, and get thee down, that the rain stop thee not.”

It was because Elijah was a man of large faith that God could use him in this grave crisis in the history of Israel. As he prayed, his faith reached out and grasped the promises of Heaven, and he persevered in prayer until his petitions were answered. He did not wait for the full evidence that God had heard him, but was willing to venture all on the slightest token of divine favor. And yet what he was enabled to do under God, all may do in their sphere of activity in God's service; for of the prophet from the mountains of Gilead it is written: “Elias was a man subject to like passions as we are, and he prayed earnestly that it might not rain: and it rained not on the earth by the space of three years and six months.” James 5:17.

Faith such as this is needed in the world today—faith that will lay hold on the promises of God's word and refuse to let go until Heaven hears. Faith such as this connects us closely with Heaven, and brings us strength for coping with the powers of darkness. Through faith God's children have “subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies of the aliens.” Hebrews 11:33, 34. And through faith we today are to reach the heights of God's purpose for us. “If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth.” Mark 9:23.

Faith is an essential element of prevailing prayer. “He that cometh to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him.” “If we ask anything according to His will, He heareth us: and if we know that He hear us, whatsoever we ask, we know that we have the petitions that we desired of Him.” Hebrews 11:6, 1 John 5:14, 15. With the persevering faith of Jacob, with the unyielding persistence of Elijah, we may present our petitions to the Father, claiming all that He has promised. The honor of His throne is staked for the fulfillment of His word.

The shades of night were gathering about Mount Carmel as Ahab prepared for the descent. “It came to pass in the meanwhile, that the heaven was black with clouds and wind, and there was a great rain. And Ahab rode, and went to Jezreel.” As he journeyed toward the royal city through the darkness and the blinding rain, Ahab was unable to see his way before him. Elijah, who, as the prophet of God, had that day humiliated Ahab before his subjects and slain his idolatrous priests, still acknowledged him as Israel's king; and now, as an act of homage, and strengthened by the power of God, he ran before the royal chariot, guiding the king to the entrance of the city.

In this gracious act of God's messenger shown to a wicked king is a lesson for all who claim to be servants of God, but who are exalted in their own estimation. There are those who feel above performing duties that to them appear menial. They hesitate to perform even needful service, fearing that they will be found doing the work of a servant. These have much to learn from the example of Elijah. By his word the treasures of heaven had been for three years withheld from the earth; he had been signally honored of God as, in answer to his prayer on Carmel, fire had flashed from heaven and consumed the sacrifice; his hand had executed the judgment of God in slaying the idolatrous prophets; his petition for rain had been granted. And yet, after the signal triumphs with which God had been pleased to honor his public ministry, he was willing to perform the service of a menial.

At the gate of Jezreel, Elijah and Ahab separated. The prophet, choosing to remain outside the walls, wrapped himself in his mantle, and lay down upon the bare earth to sleep. The king, passing within, soon reached the shelter of his palace and there related to his wife the wonderful events of the day and the marvelous revelation of divine power that had proved to Israel that Jehovah is the true God and Elijah His chosen messenger. As Ahab told the queen of the slaying of the idolatrous prophets, Jezebel, hardened and impenitent, became infuriated. She refused to recognize in the events on Carmel the overruling providence of God, and, still defiant, she boldly declared that Elijah should die.

That night a messenger aroused the weary prophet and delivered to him the word of Jezebel: “So let the gods do to me, and more also, if I make not thy life as the life of one of them by tomorrow about this time.”

It would seem that after showing courage so undaunted, after triumphing so completely over king and priests and people, Elijah could never afterward have given way to despondency nor been awed into timidity. But he who had been blessed with so many evidences of God's loving care was not above the frailties of mankind, and in this dark hour his faith and courage forsook him. Bewildered, he started from his slumber. The rain was pouring from the heavens, and darkness was on every side. Forgetting that three years before, God had directed his course to a place of refuge from the hatred of Jezebel and the search of Ahab, the prophet now fled for his life. Reaching Beersheba, he “left his servant there. But he himself went a day's journey into the wilderness.”

Elijah should not have fled from his post of duty. He should have met the threat of Jezebel with an appeal for protection to the One who had commissioned him to vindicate the honor of Jehovah. He should have told the messenger that the God in whom he trusted would protect him against the hatred of the queen. Only a few hours had passed since he had witnessed a wonderful manifestation of divine power, and this should have given him assurance that he would not now be forsaken. Had he remained where he was, had he made God his refuge and strength, standing steadfast for the truth, he would have been shielded from harm. The Lord would have given him another signal victory by sending His judgments on Jezebel; and the impression made on the king and the people would have wrought a great reformation.

Elijah had expected much from the miracle wrought on Carmel. He had hoped that after this display of God's power, Jezebel would no longer have influence over the mind of Ahab, and that there would be a speedy reform throughout Israel. All day on Carmel's height he had toiled without food. Yet when he guided the chariot of Ahab to the gate of Jezreel, his courage was strong, despite the physical strain under which he had labored.

But a reaction such as frequently follows high faith and glorious success was pressing upon Elijah. He feared that the reformation begun on Carmel might not be lasting; and depression seized him. He had been exalted to Pisgah's top; now he was in the valley. While under the inspiration of the Almighty, he had stood the severest trial of faith; but in this time of discouragement, with Jezebel's threat sounding in his ears, and Satan still apparently prevailing through the plotting of this wicked woman, he lost his hold on God. He had been exalted above measure, and the reaction was tremendous. Forgetting God, Elijah fled on and on, until he found himself in a dreary waste, alone. Utterly wearied, he sat down to rest under a juniper tree. And sitting there, he requested for himself that he might die. “It is enough; now, O Lord,” he said, “take away my life; for I am not better than my fathers.” A fugitive, far from the dwelling places of men, his spirits crushed by bitter disappointment, he desired never again to look upon the face of man. At last, utterly exhausted, he fell asleep.

Into the experience of all there come times of keen disappointment and utter discouragement—days when sorrow is the portion, and it is hard to believe that God is still the kind benefactor of His earthborn children; days when troubles harass the soul, till death seems preferable to life. It is then that many lose their hold on God and are brought into the slavery of doubt, the bondage of unbelief. Could we at such times discern with spiritual insight the meaning of God's providences we should see angels seeking to save us from ourselves, striving to plant our feet upon a foundation more firm than the everlasting hills, and new faith, new life, would spring into being.

The faithful Job, in the day of his affliction and darkness, declared:

“Let the day perish wherein I was born.” “O that my grief were throughly weighed, And my calamity laid in the balances together!” “O that I might have my request; And that God would grant me the thing that I long for! Even that it would please God to destroy me; That He would let loose His hand, and cut me off! Then should I yet have comfort.”“I will not refrain my mouth; I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.”“My soul chooseth ... death rather than my life. I loathe it; I would not live alway: Let me alone; For my days are vanity.”Job 3:3; 6:2, 8-10; Job 7:11, 15, 16.

But though weary of life, Job was not allowed to die. To him were pointed out the possibilities of the future, and there was given him the message of hope:

“Thou shalt be steadfast, and shalt not fear: Because thou shalt forget thy misery, And remember it as waters that pass away: And thine age shall be clearer than the noonday; Thou shalt shine forth, thou shalt be as the morning. And thou shalt be secure, Because there is hope.... Thou shalt lie down, And none shall make thee afraid; Yea, many shall make suit unto thee. But the eyes of the wicked shall fail, And they shall not escape, And their hope shall be as the giving up of the ghost.”

Job 11:15-20.

From the depths of discouragement and despondency Job rose to the heights of implicit trust in the mercy and the saving power of God. Triumphantly he declared:

“Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him: ... He also shall be my salvation.” “I know that my Redeemer liveth, And that He shall stand at the latter day upon the earth: And though after my skin worms destroy this body, Yet in my flesh shall I see God: Whom I shall see for myself, And mine eyes shall behold, and not another.”

Job 13:15, 16; 19:25-27.

“The Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind” (Job 38:1), and revealed to His servant the might of His power. When Job caught a glimpse of his Creator, he abhorred himself and repented in dust and ashes. Then the Lord was able to bless him abundantly and to make his last years the best of his life.

Hope and courage are essential to perfect service for God. These are the fruit of faith. Despondency is sinful and unreasonable. God is able and willing “more abundantly” (Hebrews 6:17) to bestow upon His servants the strength they need for test and trial. The plans of the enemies of His work may seem to be well laid and firmly established, but God can overthrow the strongest of these. And this He does in His own time and way, when He sees that the faith of His servants has been sufficiently tested.

For the disheartened there is a sure remedy—faith, prayer, work. Faith and activity will impart assurance and satisfaction that will increase day by day. Are you tempted to give way to feelings of anxious foreboding or utter despondency? In the darkest days, when appearances seem most forbidding, fear not. Have faith in God. He knows your need. He has all power. His infinite love and compassion never weary. Fear not that He will fail of fulfilling His promise. He is eternal truth. Never will He change the covenant He has made with those who love Him. And He will bestow upon His faithful servants the measure of efficiency that their need demands. The apostle Paul has testified: “He said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for My strength is made perfect in weakness.... Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.” 2 Corinthians 12:9, 10.

Did God forsake Elijah in his hour of trial? Oh, no! He loved His servant no less when Elijah felt himself forsaken of God and man than when, in answer to his prayer, fire flashed from heaven and illuminated the mountaintop. And now, as Elijah slept, a soft touch and a pleasant voice awoke him. He started up in terror, as if to flee, fearing that the enemy had discovered him. But the pitying face bending over him was not the face of an enemy, but of a friend. God had sent an angel from heaven with food for His servant. “Arise and eat,” the angel said. “And he looked, and, behold, there was a cake baken on the coals, and a cruse of water at his head.”

After Elijah had partaken of the refreshment prepared for him, he slept again. A second time the angel came. Touching the exhausted man, he said with pitying tenderness, “Arise and eat; because the journey is too great for thee.” “And he arose, and did eat and drink;” and in the strength of that food he was able to journey “forty days and forty nights unto Horeb the mount of God,” where he found refuge in a cave.

#egw #Ellen G. White #Christianity #God #Jesus Christ #Bible #Elijah #Ahab #Jezebel #mt. carmel #Elijah the Tishbite #prophet elijah #faith #God's providence #prophets and kings #conflict of the ages

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