th3eterna1diary

[th3eterna1diary]

This page is old and yellowed, stained, and ripped on the edges. The writing is that of charcoal. Today is a day like many others, I am not one to get into trouble often anymore, today is an exception. This is a gross and wet place we have found ourselves. Hey, the ground is still wet from the snow falling, the sky grey but still chilly from the south winds, it is spring after all. This alley isn’t quite nice, well we will have to pass the time while we wait for the Military out there to stop looking for us, here have some bread while we wait, let me tell you a tale.

 As it may be well known since many like me, yet not so, have come through this way as of late. The tale of the cold North, how we fought through our disputes and celebrated said fights with vigor, it’s all true. 

One story you may not know… is my own.

I did grow up in the north like most of the people I now call my own, at the time though when I was just a babe, they were not my people. I was born into a slave family that a Jarl was particularly fond of, I didn’t know why he was so fond of us at the time, I had not guessed either for I was too young. My father was a farmhand on the Jarls lands, Jarl Erling was his name, and my mother simply took care of me, it seemed that’s all she did... I was wrong.

As I grew I learned many things, to keep my mouth shut, always obey, and never ask questions you don’t want the answers to… but I wanted all the answers, so I never understood that rule. All I knew is any breaks in the rules would end in whippings. I got a lot of punishment because of the questions I would ask, where do babies come from, can I hear a story, why isn’t my baba back yet? Despite the fact I knew he was always working, he looked worse and worse every day, we could never talk much as a family because of the rules set down so I could never ask him how he was or simply talk. One day he left and didn’t come back, mother cried, oh, did she cry. Instead of asking what had happened, I snuck out to find my father.

My mother was torn by her grief and did not notice me leave, I took to the fields then the streets, nothing. Then, on the way back, I noticed someone wheeling a cart by, I thought it was weird, off-season, and all that, and it was dark enough so I followed quietly… maybe my curiosity got the best of me that night. The hooded man went to a nearby secluded lake, which I have many times seen smoke rising from though I have never been here as I am not allowed far from the longhouse. He had a small boat with straw all set up before placing a large cloth bag into the boat and pushing it out before seeming to leave. I decided to follow the boat out, seeing as it was going very slowly, so I waded out and slipped onto the boat, I quickly regretted it. What hit me immediately was the familiar smell of my father, despite the grit and grime, there was always a comforting undertone to his presence.

 So I wondered what he was doing wearing a bag. 

I was hit by a flaming arrow.

I screamed, it wasn’t the first pain I had ever felt, but the first most memorable. Upon climbing the boat I had covered myself in straw so I was easily flammable. Not knowing what to do I stood up in the boat and it rocked like the water was reaching for me. I believe I hit the water and stayed half-conscious. I remember it was all blurry. I saw the boat on fire, I heard confused yells, then some authoritative voice, and I wondered why someone shot at the boat for no reason, why was the lake so busy tonight… Why was I so tired?

I dreamt.

There was fire, but it was not at the lake. It was at the Jarls' house. There was yelling and screaming, but my mother was nowhere to be seen. There seemed to be a standoff. The Jarl Erling was standing in front of me almost protectively, and a blonde girl, shorter than me with braids and a mighty ax covered in a beautiful scarlet red. The warrior had others behind her, but they were nothing in comparison to my perspective. There was yelling, asking for surrender, and I felt compelled to, but the Jarl did not. There was yelling, commands from that girl, a blur… and then.

I woke up.

My Mother was crazed when I woke up, visually I mean, she didn’t say anything. Now I wonder if she was mute. The Jarl was angry, ferocious, raving that I was out at night, saying something about how I could have been further hurt and how he was trying to protect us. Then he put us in solitary for quite some time… too long.

A Few Months.

My wound healed very slowly.

It wasn’t without food, but it was without real substance. Bread, some greens here and there, but we both knew the Jarl saved the meat for his body men and a few high-price traders that came through. So really, my mother and I starved. One day, they forgot to bring us food, every night after that mother seemed to have nightmares, and every day my mother was trying to tell me something I couldn’t understand. Food came sparsely, and my mother finally got me to understand what she was trying to tell me. She pointed at me, gently bit my arm, then pointed to herself. 

I suffered from nightmares after that, but I also knew when the Jarl was going to let me out.

So, when that day came, I was awake and waiting. 

The door finally opened and the Jarl almost seemed pleased. Saying stuff like, since I had known when he was going to come; that meant his plan worked. 

I was oddly pampered after that, I cleaned the physical remains of my mother off of myself, all that remained of her was now with me internally, and spiritually.

Apparently, my mother was a prophet that let the Jarl know how the harvests would fare, and about future raids from the Norse, so the Jarl could prepare, and it was expected that when she had a child they would be a prophet as well, if not more powerful. 

I spent my time after that with the Jarl, telling him how the harvest would fare, telling him of unimportant raids, getting a brand upon the top of my right hand of his insignia, just an ‘E’ rune. 

Uninspired.

I knew the day was coming, so I bided my time.

There I was again, behind the Jarl Erling and the girl with the ruby-coated ax with the blonde braids. There was yelling, she was commanding Jarl to surrender, but he did not. Then there was a blur…  I moved. Using surprise to my advantage I took a grip on his ear causing him to bellow out in pain like an ox. I then whipped around to his front, leaped upon him as though he was nothing more than a fat cow and I was a wolf... I tore his throat out... with my teeth. With the force that I threw against him, I had hoped he would fall onto his back, but he fell atop of me instead, crushing my small form and all the air in it, and all the same, I held onto his throat between my depraved teeth. Breathing through the blood that was entering my mouth and lungs, until I felt him stop breathing. 

There was silence in the room, it felt like I was alone. Tilting my head I got the throat out of my mouth, coughed some, and whispered the best I could with what little language I knew into this now dead man’s corpse; Your Plan. Worked Out. For Me.

At least that’s what I meant to say before my rush wore out and I passed out under his corpse.

I was 16 when it happened, then I was a proper labor slave. I was not pampered as I was before.

 Her name was beautiful, the blonde girl I mean, her eyes were blue like ice and she was the reason I was free from that Jarl. Sure I was a slave now, to that of her own family and village, but I have a debt to pay to her, I always will.  

I got to choose my name as well, I was Nari since then. The Jarl never gave me a name, he simply called me "Thr Prophet," or "Girl."

And to the family that claimed and saved me, I took on their last name in private in hopes to do good by them.

The village was lively, and some of the slaves knew how to speak well so I got lots of help from others like me. I was often working with the medicine woman of the village, doing lots of wound mending, finding herbs, and learning how to read a calendar stick to tell when was a good time to harvest what. I hardly got those prophetic dreams anymore. I may have been a slave, but the environment was full of enrichment here, I felt no need to leave. I learned a lot about fighting from the Northerners I would practice at night with a stick as my sword and a bush as my aggressor. I did this many nights. 

Tonight was unlike the rest and I could feel it, but it didn’t feel like the bad nights at the Jarl Erling’s so I ignored it and went out to do my pho-training, believing I just ate something with more maggots than usual. I wasn’t all that subtle. The girl with wheat-colored hair found me practicing with a stick fighting a green enemy with no motive, I was silent, and composed, it’s what I’ve always known to do when I got into trouble. The blue-eyed girl passed me a wooden sword, that of a child's, hilt first and we practiced. 

We practiced a lot for quite some time, once I became good at the sword she taught me the ax, then the bow. She told me stories about creatures and gods alike, which I found myself very invested in. I tried to teach her some about medicines, herbs, and palm reading which I had just recently learned from a traveling merchant. Her anger sometimes flared up at my teachings, lacking in patience, she didn’t seem to quite grasp all the small things like that, and she was always more keen on fighting and the physical aspects of life. Then there were nights where we would kiss and explore each other under the dark cold blanket that was the night sky, it was never truly cold with her though.

I think back on it now and I wonder how many times she had come to the barn where the slaves slept, looking for me in the dead of night, and how long it took her to decide to follow and help me in my life’s journey.

Life as a slave was hard, but it got better after that. I almost seemed to be in semi-better standing with the majority of her family, and they treated me well. I even was allowed to wear regular clothes and work with the Medicine woman who was grateful for my help, even when I was a slave.

Then, for once in my life, there came a question I was not sure If I wanted the answer to.

Did she Long for me the way I longed for her?

I found I never actually asked the question. Even if she never said it, and I never asked, the answer was there.

I once had a dream about large humanoid creatures, Jottun as my love had called them, eating the families of the village though they all fought with axes and might. It wasn’t enough. 

Then the Horn sounded, waking me…  and the dream became reality. 

I left the village with the others, the bravest of the village stayed back to let us get away safely, no one left easily. All of them wished to die in battle and get to Valhalla, others knew it was not today that they would meet their gods.

The trail to Maria was tiresome and treacherous, we lost many, but made it in the end. Life was hard, Even I resorted to stealing food from other families to feed my people. Not the worst thing I’ve done, which is also why we both are here today, hiding.

My hjarta left to enlist in the training corps, a chance to fight back she said, I miss her.

 I should have gone with her.

#short story #short starter #stories #diary #dear diary #tumblr diary #journal #journal entry #journaling