II

On the northwest coast of the island of Sofjorland (pronounced So-fiorland), the morning was cool with only a gentle breeze blowing along the rocky shore. It gently rustled the grass just back from the rocks and pebbles at the water's edge, the sun well on its way above the eastern horizon beginning to share its warmth with the new day.

It was approaching midsummer, the longest day of the year. Sitting on a log that had been dragged down to the shore's edge, two young brothers held fishing poles. Lines cast in the water, eyes watching the pieces of white painted bark they were using for floats.

Both boys wore garb typical of Halder villagers, cloth tunics with deer skin vests for summer. Dark blue trousers and skin boots sewn to hardened leather soles.

Orn Avdlak (pronounced Awed-lak) was an average-sized boy for his age. He was nearly thirteen and had yet to fill out his slim, sprouting frame. He had piercing, yet inquisitive grey eyes, set in a soft face yet to be tarnished by the rigors of age. A face framed by raven black hair that reached his shoulders.

His brother, Erik, was slightly older at fourteen. He had long, sandy blonde hair with braids at the temples, framing his face in the fashion of his father. He had blue eyes, that regardless of his expression, always seemed to be smiling, so that it was hard for a person not to smile when he looked their way. This quality suited his personality, as he was quite mischievous. His features were sharper than his brothers, and he had started to sprout some facial hair. Although it was sparse, he stroked his face as though he had a full beard, one of the few points his younger brother could tease him on. Unlike his younger brother, he had a rather muscular frame, from time spent helping in his father's iron forge.

"What do you think we'll catch?" asked Orn. The boys had been out there from sunup and usually by now, the fish would have shown some signs of interest in their baited hooks.

"Probably perch. I mean those things are always active, and they eat anything that moves or smells." As Erik said this, he made a quick check to see that the breeze was still moving eastwards from him to his brother on his right. His expression looked strained as he leaned slightly left. "Speaking of smells," he said as he tried to stifle his laughter.

"Urgh! Dammit Erik, I don't want to breathe YOUR air, let alone from your arse!" Orn dropped his fishing pole and tackled Erik off the log.

The boys started wrestling, Orn in his annoyance was maintaining the upper hand, while Erik, who was significantly stronger, was struggling because he was laughing so hard, both at his brother's expression and the surprise of being taken to the ground.

Then Erik managed to free an arm, and reached his fingers into Orn's armpit, at which point Orn's face turned from anger to surprise, and then uncontrollable laughter as his brother had turned the tide by tickling him. "Alright, alright! Dammit. That's no fair. Dirty arse and dirty tricks!"

Erik laughed, and said "Alright, truce." He then raised himself up to his knees and helped his brother up.

Orn was still trying to maintain his annoyed expression, but it was clear he was on the verge of laughing as well. Erik then turned and said, "We better grab our poles before they get pulled in the water."

Orn looked at Erik with a sly grin, to which Erik grinned back and said sarcastically "Ha, ha. You know what I meant. Father will brain us both if we lose them. Come on."

They dusted each other off, then picked up their fishing poles and sat back down on the log. Erik wedged the back of his fishing pole between the ground and the log, he then reached into a satchel on the log, producing a hunk of brown rye bread from within.

Where he was holding the pole, he slid his hand off so he could grip it in the crook of his elbow, and using both hands, tore the bread and gave half to his brother, and gripped the pole with his free hand once more.

The brothers went back to watching their floats, looking for that tell-tale dunking movement of the bark that would indicate a likely bite while taking bites of their own from their bread.

After a time, both boys had finished their bread. Orn turned his face slightly and said "It's been hours Erik. I don't think they're around here."

"Yeah, I mean, not even little ones. We'll stay a bit longer, and see what happens. I don't want to go back empty-handed."

Orn let out a small sigh, shrugged slightly, and said "Sure. A bit longer."

Orn's gaze swept over the water and about a hundred feet out in the water, he saw some sea birds circling. Occasionally one would dive into the water. He glanced sideways, seeing that his brother was focused on the bark float, he returned his gaze to where the sea birds were.

His eyes narrowed as he stared at the water. He envisioned the water below the surface moving gently but inexorably towards the shore.

He was so focused on his thoughts that when Erik suddenly whooped with excitement as he jerked his fishing pole upwards, hooking a fish, Orn nearly fell off the log.

This made him aware that he had also hooked a fish. They each pulled in a decent-sized perch, landed them, and placed them in the pale they had filled with water earlier. The fish flopped around and splashed the water, but the boys were too focused on baiting their hooks to notice.

They hooked two more each in quick succession and decided to call it a morning. Five of the perch that they had caught were of decent size, but the last one that Erik caught was significantly larger than the others.

"We should clean these before we head home, Orn. I mean, Mother will only make us do it when we get home anyhow. And our home won't stink of fish." Stated Erik.

"Good idea, then it will only stink of you."

"Nice" said Erik with a mock scowl on his face as both boys chuckled.

They scaled and cleaned the fish then rinsed them in the sea. They emptied their bucket and then, using a thin three-foot-long stick, threaded the fish through their gills to carry them home. They gathered up their gear and hoisted the stick on their shoulders to carry the fish, then headed back to their village.

The walk was not a long one, about an hour's walk inland from where they were fishing. The part of the island they lived on was largely dedicated to sheep farming.

The sheep skins produced were of such quality, that they were highly sought after in the Grand Duchy of Holvela, the Halder nation that their island was part of. The warm clothing and boots made from these skins were invaluable further north where the winters were longer and much colder.

Furs from trappers farther north were good enough to stave off the chill, and some types of fur were considered luxuries for their quality and softness, but sheepskin was both more durable, warmer, and cheaper. Plus the wool could be spun to make warm blankets, shawls, and other garments to keep out the winter chill.

The boys found their way to the wide, well-worn path that ran along the fence line of a paddock. White sheep scattered throughout, the occasional black face lifting and sniffing the air before returning to their grazing.

They followed the path along the fence and passed by the farmhouse, with a man in his forties near the path, brown hair greying at the temples, wearing a yellow tunic and brown trousers with black leather boots. He was working on part of the fence, attaching the railings to a newly replaced fence post.

The boys waved to him, saying "Good morning, Mr Hagen."

"Good morning" he replied cheerfully. "Quite the haul you lads have brought. No doubt Venna will be pleased."

The boys beamed in response, waved once more, and continued home.

The man watched after them for a short time, smiling wistfully while remembering his time at that age, before chuckling as he shook his head and returned to his task.

The fence line fell away, and more houses lined either side of the path. Theirs was a small village of just over a hundred people.

The cottages mostly lined the main path, opening to the well and community area near the village centre. There was also a carved pole honouring the gods, which was a place of worship, celebration, and ceremony.

A little further on, they came to their home. It was a simple structure, much like the rest of the village. The roof was two steep sides leading to a high peak so that snow didn't collect on the roof and collapse it.

It had two chimneys, one for the sitting room at the front of the cottage, and one for the stove near the rear of the home.

A corridor ran along the side of the house, with two rooms separated by the bathroom. The bath was filled by a stormwater tank behind the forge, with two pipes that ran through the forge. One to a secondary tank where the water was heated by the forge itself, before running on into the bathroom, the other led directly to the bathroom. One pipe for hot water, the other for cold to fill the tub. A feature installed by Vylder, the village's smith, utilising his metalworking skills.

They walked around the side of the cottage to where their mother was in the kitchen preparing lunch.

Venna was a striking woman. She had almost flawless features apart from a gap in her arched brow above her left eye. The one indication of her past as a shield maiden. A scar from where she was nicked by a sword. Her once lean and muscular physique had softened over the years. However she was still strong and hadn't forgotten the skills she had accumulated over her youth.

She had strawberry blonde hair tied back in a single braid. Her slate-coloured eyes were set in a pale face with cheeks quick to blush. She was just finishing up a vegetable soup over the cooking stove, getting ready to take it to the table for serving.

"Mother," said Erik "look what me and Orn brought home."

Venna hid a smile, and without looking back, said "Orn and I." She waited a second before chiding "Don't roll your eyes at me, Erik".

Erik looked at Orn with an incredulous expression on his face that said without words 'How does she always know?', to which Orn responded with an equally puzzled look as he shrugged his shoulders.

Venna turned with the pot and moved towards the table. She placed the pot down before regarding the boys and inspecting their morning's work.

"Lovely, and I see you remembered to clean them this time. Alright, place them over there on the bench. I will see what we can do with them after we've had lunch." She watched as her sons walked to the bench and were about to dump everything on top before saying in slight exasperation "No, take them off of the stick first, then take the stick outside."

"Don't roll your eyes Mother" Erik said, which earned him a slap to the back of his head from Venna, who although delivered it in admonishment, couldn't hold back her laugh.

"Once you've taken care of that, Orn, can you set the table and then head out to the forge to tell your father that lunch is ready? Erik, you can take that large fish to the Sogard's place."

Orn groaned and complained "But mother, we worked hard this morning catching dinner, can't we go…"

Venna cut him off with "And while I appreciate your efforts, now you must appreciate mine. Unless you want to eat hot soup with your hands, then get the bowls, spoons, breadboard and knife onto the table, and then go get your father."

Orn's shoulders sunk in defeat and on his face was a comical expression of fake despair. This made Venna's eyes twinkle with amusement as she grabbed Orn's cheeks, leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

She then turned him by the shoulders towards the dish cabinet and tapped his backside as he walked towards it.

Erik was blushing furiously and had grown nervous almost dropping the fish as he fumbled trying to pick it up. Venna, noticing her older son's struggle, smiled and approached behind and slightly to his side.

She gently grasped his shoulders and said to him "Erik, relax. Take some deep breaths." Erik did as she told him. "Better?" she asked.

Erik nodded as a sickly expression clouded his face. Venna went on to say "I know you like Selti, but there's no need to worry. All you need to be is you, because if you try to be something else, then you'll never really know if Selti likes you, or this other thing. Besides, chances are she isn't even home. And this is a good opportunity to make nice with her mother. If Selti feels the same as you, you're going to want to make a good impression on her. Now, pick it up, off you go".

Venna smiled and ruffled Erik's hair as he picked up the fish and made his way out of the kitchen, along the side of their Cottage and then across the path diagonally towards the Sogard's cottage.

Orn had set the table and went out behind their cottage to where their father's forge was.

As he approached, he could see the smoke from the centre of the roof, where it was open to allow the smoke to escape. He could also hear the ringing of hammer on steel.

He entered the side of the structure where within was a sight that would cause a stranger to the village to be taken aback.

Vylder was a giant of a man. At 7 feet 3 inches, he was a head taller than most other Halder men, who were on average, a tall people to begin with. He had broad, muscular shoulders, thick muscular arms, and a barrel chest with thick tree trunk-like legs. He had long dark, almost black hair that was beginning to show signs of turning grey at the temples where his hair was braided. He had braids in his greying beard as well. He was wearing a bone-coloured tunic with the sleeves rolled up. He had on a thick, full-length leather apron, and thick, grey wool trousers. On his feet he had brown buckskin boots.

As Orn entered, Vylder picked up what he was hammering with some tongs and dunked it into the cooling tub. The piece made a loud hissing noise as it hit the water, where it started bubbling as steam billowed up from it.

The forge was hot and humid inside, and Orn was already starting to perspire on his forehead, chest, and back.

His father looked up, saw Orn, and suddenly a broad smile creased his face. He went back to finish up what he was doing, and then looked back to Orn and said, "Well son, how was it?"

Orn looked confused for a moment and then realised his father meant fishing. He replied "Good actually. We caught three each. Erik caught one that was almost double the size of the rest."

"Huh." said Vyldeer with raised eyebrows, and an impressed look on his face.

Orn continued with a sly grin "He took that one to Selti's home for a wedding present."

Vylder's laugh filled the forge, a booming laugh as big as the man himself. "Aw son, you tease now but, your day will come."

"No way. That will never happen." Orn retorted just a little too quickly and a little too forcefully.

Vylder's brows raised slightly as he grinned. "Aha, aha. I guess we'll see" he said with a knowing smile that was so slight as to be barely noticeable. "So, what brings you out here son?"

"Oh right, mother told me to get you for lunch."

"That time already? Ok, let me finish up quickly, make the forge safe, and I'll be right in." Orn smiled and headed back to the cottage.