I am so sorry for the long wait. I've had the worst writers block for weeks, not to mention I am super busy at my new job. Hopefully you like this chapter, and I'll try to update you guys soon again. Hit that vote-button and share! xx
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Constraint gives scant choice; a naked man is chilled by the frost. - Naudiz rune poem
The mundane meaning of Naudiz rune:
What must be done, must be done. No matter how hard it will be.
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How does one heal from their wounds? How does one get past what has been done to them?
Those are the questions lingering in my mind, tormenting me, dominating my every thought.
How do I come back from what he did? It will be hard, this I know. I just do not see myself getting out of my inner pit of fire, on my own.
That is why I am here, where Egil and I's journey first began. Not that I remember any of it. I was in pain most of the time, jumping in and out of conciousness over and over again. Nothing seemed real.
The little hut does not look much. It is too plain, too modest. Too mundane. It seems almost hard to imagine that a powerful völva lives here.
I am hesitant. I fear she will not be able to help me, and I fear that she will.
What if I come out of there as a new, different person, and not the good kind? What if the only way for me to heal, is to forget everything? Would I forget everyone new in my life as well? That would be a nightmare. I just got my father back, I just met Egil.
Granted, I have not given Egil much, but the need to be around him is like an addiction I am happy to feed. I care for him, and do not wish to forget him.
"Are you waiting for Ragnarök, or is there a reason why you have not knocked on my door, yet?" the völva, Gudrun, I think she was called, asked me.
Blushing tinges my cheeks, and I let my eyes linger on my bare feet for a little while to make it seem I am only nervous. Only if she knew I was horrified.
"Come, child. Let us talk," she summoned me inside with a delicate move of her hand, which I then followed her inside.
Standing by the doorway studying my surroundings. The hut is not big by no means, but it is sufficient in supplying Gudrun and her apprentice with shelter from the one we call weather. The little alcov preserved for sleeping is separated from the rest of their quarters with a thick cotton curtain. I can barely see her apprentice laying there, in his bed.
