The Path Less Traveled (3)

Trapped and breathless, Torstein searched for anything he could use as a weapon. His hand brushed against something smooth and solid – the Arctic Root he had collected earlier. It was a hard, sturdy root, and in his desperate situation, it was better than nothing.

As the wolf managed to wedge its head into the crevice, Torstein, with all his might, struck it on the nose with the root. The wolf howled in pain and retracted its head momentarily. Torstein kept striking, each hit fueled by a mix of fear and determination. The wolf, deterred by the pain and unable to reach Torstein, eventually backed off, disappearing into the forest.

Exhausted, bleeding, and in shock, Torstein lay in the crevice, clutching the Arctic Root. His body was battered, his clothes torn, but he was alive. He had survived, not through brute strength, but through his wits and will to live.

It was a long while before he gathered the strength to crawl out of his hiding spot. The forest around him was eerily quiet, the ordeal having passed. With great effort, Torstein began his journey back to the village, each step a testament to his resilience.

As his strength waned, the world around him began to blur and darken. The last thing Torstein remembered was the wolf retreating, perhaps startled by the arrival of other humans.

Erik and their father, who had been searching for Torstein, found him lying unconscious, his body battered and bleeding, his fist clenched around the precious Arctic Root. The sight was heart-wrenching, yet Erik couldn't help but smile at his brother's tenacity. Even in the face of death, Torstein had held onto the herb, a testament to his courage and resolve.

Their father, too, despite the gravity of the situation, allowed a rare smirk to cross his face. It was a moment of mixed emotions – pride in Torstein's bravery, tinged with fear for his life.

They carefully lifted Torstein, making haste to get him back to the village for urgent medical attention. The journey back was tense, each step heavy with the urgency of saving Torstein's life.

As they entered the village, the sight of Erik and their father carrying the injured Torstein drew a crowd. Whispers and gasps filled the air. Eirlys, upon seeing Torstein's condition, sprang into action, her healer's instincts taking over. The villagers watched in silence as she worked to save the young man who had, in his own way, proven to be as brave and resilient as any warrior.

In that moment, Torstein, though unconscious and teetering on the brink of death, had transformed in the eyes of his people. He was no longer just the quiet, bookish boy.