The floor feels a little cold beneath my feet. I guess that is a perk of living in a wooden house. My clothes are lying folded on my bed. The light shimmer of the white fur stands out and I let my fingers touch the soft fabric. Sighing and with a slight headache, I get dressed. With my armour under my arms, I make my way downstairs into the main hall.
Dozens of men and women chat whilst sitting at the long tables. Food is piled up on their plates, fruits and vegetables I have never seen before. The throne on the platform has been removed and replaced with two smaller seats and a table.
Beorn, Belethrorn and Fawnaya are already sitting at one of the tables up front. Fawn looks like her usual self, no traces of her being hammered remain. Beorn stares at his plate with his head clutched in his hands and Belethrorn seems a little dazed.
I mumble a good morning and take a seat. The boys only grunt in response and Fawn starts to chat right away.
"Could you, be uh, quiet?" I interrupt her as nicely as possible.
"Why?" She asks genuinely confused. I point to my head as an answer. It is pounding like crazy. Her mouth forms a soundless 'oh'.
"It's alright," I add softly, "not everyone here is gifted with the ability to just drink themselves to oblivion and not experience a hangover afterwards."
We eat our breakfast in silence, much to my relief. Fawn fastens my remaining armour pieces. With my cloak under my arm, my satchel over my shoulder and leaning on a large walking stick, I wait for my friends to join me.
"You guys ready?" I ask excitedly when Beorn approaches. He raises his eyebrows.
"Ready for what?"
"Move on? Go into the mountains?"
"Well, Arwyn, about that umm, could we move out after watching the tournament?" Beorn sounds hopeful, almost scared. His feet dance a little and he places his hand awkwardly in his neck.
"Sure, why not? You don't have to ask me like I would hit you for it. That's weird."
I completely forgot about the tournament. Seems like I had a little more to drink than I thought yesterday. "Oh, Beorn?" I call after him. He turns around with a smile, "could you help me get into my armour?"
He chuckles and makes his way back to me. "You still don't know where some of the parts belong, do you?" I shake my head. "Well, you better pay attention this time."
Beorn assembles every piece of my leather armour effortlessly, explaining the names of each piece and where to put in on. I am afraid he will have to explain it to me again before I can actually remember all of it. I slid my two tiny daggers in the leather straps on my underarm and one more in the inside of my boot.
Inside, the men and women start to cheer and they practically run towards the Pit. Eight of them carry the seats belonging to Darya and Jorah. The two of them walk behind the mass of people, happily talking about the gods know what. Darya spots me and waves.
"Are you staying for the Tournament?" she asks and leans back into Jorah. He throws his arms around her and smiles like an elf on High flyers. I have seen that plenty back in Nyr. High Flyers is the one illegal thing the guards can't get a grip on. A liquor brewed from Pegasus berries. One small vile is enough to knock you down for a whole day. It is especially popular with low living citizens. I once spoke with one of the Flyerjunkies, as we call them. He told me that High Flyers are his only way to escape his reality. A life in the gutters of Nyr without a chance to climb up the social or economic ladder. I found out that the poor man was thrown into the black cells of the castle. He had been accused of molesting me and been decapitated soon after. I never spoke with any other person on the streets ever again after that.
"Beorn really wants to, we leave after the winner is announced." I smile at her. "So, you and Jorah?" I nudge my head towards his stance and Darya blushes slightly.
"We've known each other since we were walking in diapers. Best friends for life. People always used to wager whether we'd end up together," she smiles. Jorah looks like he is over the moon. Those two are so cute.
"I think you two are perfect for each other." Belethrorns voice startles me. I turn around and see him grinning at the pair.
"And where have you been?" The smile on my face probably shows I'm joking. Throrn's hand shoot up to his chest,
"Me?" He fake gasps, "how dare you to ask me such a thing. A Galdor is always exactly where he wants to be."
I roll my eyes in annoyance. I will find out where he was yesterday. I'll use my secret weapon. Smiling, I jog to the figure of my best friend.
"Beorn wait up!"
We enter the Pit. It is even busier than it was when we were pushed to fight until our death. This time, even the smallest children are allowed in the arena. Supposedly because the contenders aren't allowed to kill, a man or woman is out of the race as soon as they bleed.
The tournament starts as soon as Jorah blows on a giant horn. The crowd erupts in cheers when the contenders start their hand to hand combat. Only short range weapons and a shield are allowed. No heavy armour, just a chainmail shirt and a leather breastplate. Without a few additions, much like my own.
Various couples bash in on each other. Even though they aren't allowed to kill, they certainly don't hold back. I believe I even see a tooth fly through the air when the fist of a heavy man collides with the jaw of a younger, but ambitious, man. The two roll in the dust, sand flying as they push one another in the ground. The younger man is clever, I can see it in the way he fights. Landing solid punches in the right places. He may not be the biggest or the strongest, but he is very clever.
Another couple attracts my attention, a woman and a man. Instead of being absolutely serious about the Tournament, they seem to rather enjoy it. Not really working together, but at the same time watching the others back, they defeat opponent after opponent.
After a few minutes, only five contenders remain. They circle around each other, three men, two women. They are all drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. Their intense glaring at each other is interrupted by the sound of the horn. Every single head turns towards the blower. Darya looks around with determination in her eyes.
"Today, for the first time in Ravenwood history," she starts off strong and steady, "there will be more than one winner for the title of Berserker or Valkyrie."
Gasps of disbelief erupt from the crowd and a few shouts of disagreement cut the silence after that. Darya holds her hand up and waits until the people have calmed down.
"I know it is against Ravenwood tradition, that in this melee, this tournament, more than one winner emerges. However, after consulting Jorah, we have come to this decision together. Our Gydjer has gotten another message from White Raven." Her eyes scan the crowd. It amazes me how they listen to whom white raven chooses, no doubt or resistance because she is a woman. Only adoration, admiration and respect.
"War is upon us, we need the extra men and women in command."
Everyone but the winners leaves the Pit. A certain calmness washes over the arena. Darya and Jorah descend to the battlegrounds. Katja is no-where to be found. Now that I think of it, I haven't seen her since the end of the choosing ceremony.
"Do you know what is happening?" I ask Beorn quietly. He shakes his head and turns back to the winners down in the Pit. Darya and Jorah are standing right in front of them. They kneel one by one, planting their weapons in the ground. Darya turns around and motions for us to come down. A little unsure if I don't violate any more rights or hurt any more feelings I step down. When my feet touch the ground a flash of burning men flashes before my eyes.
"Stand beside us Fyrie," Jorah commands, "you need to be part of this as much as us." I scrunch my nose at the mention of Fyrie. I still hate that word with a burning passion.
"Ak nehm perro ýa hym gjod vie zo nehm ether."
All winners cite the same phrase whilst directly looking us in the eyes. For some reason, I feel incredibly important and honoured they want me to be part of such a ritual. Even though I haven't got a clue of what they were actually saying, I have seen a similar ceremony when the royal guard chose a new captain. Without hesitating I interrupt Darya's speech to the new commanders.
"Teach me the words." Jorah looks offended by my comment but Darya smiles lightly. "Teach me, let me pledge my life to you as much as you did to me. I killed some of your sons, let me try to protect the others as a payment. If we are going to war, let us be allies."
Darya nods, "very well, repeat after me. Ak nehm perro ýa hym,"
I drop down on one knee and plant my sword in the ground. "Ak nehm perro ýa hym."
"Gjod vie zo nehm ether."
"Gjod vie zo nehm ether. My sword belongs to you. May you ever need my help, shoot a fireball in the sky and I will answer."
Beorn, Belethrorn, Fawn, Aggir and I left soon after my pledge in the Pit. It takes us almost the rest of the day to reach the edge of the forest. The wind seems cooler without the protection of the trees. Before us, lie the plains of Azara. A cold and muddy region in summer and a cold and frozen world in winter and behind that the mountains. Even though Nyr was built in a mountain, it didn't feel like it. The surface was covered with trees and plants and there were stairs all throughout the city, making it easy to climb up and down.
It's like a never-ending wall of stone and rock. The mountains rise from the ground into the sky, disappearing behind a white veil. The clouds hug the tops, shielding them from foreign eyes. The sight alone, of that massive natural structure, is enough to send shivers down my spine. The amount of brute force it took to create these, is astonishing.
I turn around and my mouth begins to water at the sight of a freshly cooked chicken. We eat in silence, enjoying what could be our last cooked meal for days. Aggir told us our chances would be very slim at finding suitable firewood in the mountains. There are legends about an underground forest, housing the purest water and oldest trees. He said it was the work of the gods, and only the bravest and kindest of hearts would be granted entrance. With all that has happened in the past few days, it wouldn't surprise me if such a place actually exists.
We are all gathered around the fire, discussing tactics. The others are, at least. I'll just do as I am told when they say what I am supposed to do. Aggir seems to fit in just fine, Beorn and he act like they've known each other for years. Belethrorn seems to have more issues with the man, as he doesn't welcome him with the same openness as Beorn does. Maybe he could be jealous he got some competition? Fawn is behind me and shares the same dark and sometimes lewd humour Aggir possesses, which, doesn't surprise me as she grew up in a man's world. All these people, no matter how short I have known them, are risking their lives to help me finish this task. Surely none of them will betray me after risking everything?
Right?
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Well, I do hope things will be getting easier. This book is getting closer to an end, we are now in the last 10-15 or so chapters. Let me know what you think :)
The naming contest is still up and running, send me your suggestions for the new name of the Fyrie race if you have them! I hope to see you all again next week, I will be trying my absolute best to update.
XO OJI