Ruthless || Ivar Ragnarsson

FEHU - ᚠ

I wasn't used to the cold. At least, not the one that surrounded me at this moment. I knew the cool feeling of the desert nights and those of rain storms. I knew the cold of the deep lakes and the roaring sea. However, in my life I had never come across this raw coldness. Biting, stinging, penetrating; the one that froze me to my bones and made the ends of my limbs numb. It felt like I was never able to feel warm again. Despite bringing my knees up to my chest to try to maintain as much body warmth as possible, the last spark of warmth had left my body long ago. The thin burlap cover that had shielded my body from the splashing water was soaked and began feeling more like a burden.
We had been on the sea for what seemed like ages, any sense of time was lost. It felt like I had died and was now in a never ending journey north, the days growing colder and the nights turning longer as we went on. The boat carried us across treacherous waters, through storms and windless days, moving forward alternating between oars and sail. The men on the boat seemed like they could not feel the icy winds, as if they were made by it themselves, formed by ice blown into the shape of a man. Watching them work made it clear that they had been brought up on these boats, effortlessly navigating the seas by the stars and the sun. How they steered the boat it appeared as if the ship was a body and they were its limbs. They were the craftsmen and the ship was their trade. My back leaned against the mast, my hands bound behind me on the other side of the long wooden pole. My arms and legs were stiff and tense like I had become of wood myself. The rope was burning into my skin and with every wave it dug deeper into my palms. The exhaustion weighed my eyelids down and finally led my mind elsewhere.

The clothing that covered my body was light and airy, and I felt like a princess in the ochre dress. My hair was braided back, but some of the stubborn curly strands had sprung out and were now tickling my face and neck. My mother always braided my hair; she knew how to handle the unruly curls and brushed it ritually every evening. I climbed down the ladder leading from our front door to the ground as fast as I could and jumped outside into the warm sun. The grass tickled my bare feet, the greenery only able to grow here because of the water that streamed from the nearby rock formation into the vale where we lived. It was truly an oasis in the wide-stretching sands. This place was full of life, with birds perched atop the trees and small lizards hiding under the damp rocks. The dunes were like pure gold in the morning sun and I savoured a few moments when the light shone softy on my skin. In the distance I could see my mother and father working on the fertile grounds and I ran towards them, their backs turned to me. My mother had wrapped a cloth around her head to keep it protected from the sun. Her dark skin was used to the relentless sun but my fathers paleness was often a victim and turned red when he didn't pay enough attention. When my mother looked at me she smiled, but the words that came from her mouth were lost as I awoke from my half-asleep state, jolted awake by the exclamation of one of the men.

"Biǫð in syn!"

He was pointing eastward, toward dark shadows looming in the distance in the pale morning mist. The closer the ship got, the grotesquer the shadows grew. I had never seen something like it, and I could not help but imagine the vision of sailing into the mouth of an immense beast. Its gaping throat would devour us whole and we would never see the light of day again. Finally the mist cleared and with it my imaginations, because once we approached it I could see that it was land, pushed upwards by a force unknown to me.

The crew clearly rejoiced in seeing this country again, the same country that felt foreign to me. Some of them cheered while others celebrated in silence. Even I could feel that a burden had been lifted off of them, but even then they quickly resumed their work. These seafarers were evidently used to hard circumstances and they would not hesitate to take on a challenge. However it became clear to me that the time on the sea had been longer and harder than normal and that it was a relief to all of them to see this sight again. It was a relief to me too, as I had never been on the sea for such a long time and I wasn't sure if I would survive the journey.

Soon new images came into view. I had never seen mountains before, but I knew these were what I had heard of in my father's stories. Despite the descriptions I was told, seeing them in person they exceeded my expectations. The ragged mountain ranges were higher than the clouds and I wondered if anyone had ever been to the top. From below it seemed almost impossible to walk upon them. The mountains were thickly wooded with steep cliffs; if one would fall off nobody would hear of them again. These elevations were solid and lasting, unlike the ever-changing sands back home. I could sense that this land had seen so much and that it would see so much more, beyond human existence. The longing for ground under my feet grew stronger when we entered the mouth of the strait, now completely encircled by the huge masses of land as the open sea was drawn from the eye. I was not the only stranger to this landscape, as some of the other captives were looking around wide-eyed, mouth agape, in awe of the surroundings. As was I, but I felt a dread coming up as we neared journey's end. What would become of me once we reached the final destination? I had no idea where we were going and the sudden uncertainness overwhelmed me. I felt myself longing back to my home and family where the people were familiar and where it was safe. I knew that it was to no use to think in this manner, but it was something that I could not overcome. My stomach knotted while a somber feeling began to creep upon me.

Thank you for reading the first chapter! I have so many ideas for this story and I can't wait for you to read it. If you have any tips, they are very welcome as english isn't my native language.

xx