Einarr turned the spit over and stoked the fire. Sparks
flew. Einarr traced their flight as they slowly faded into the night. He
narrowed his eyes and blinked. The night shifted and parted, shades of gray
coalescing into shapes.
A raven, larger than him, stared back.
Einarr cried out and
scrambled away as fast as he could from the spectre.
“There is no way to leave, sole warrior.”
Einarr looked around. He was in an endless space of white,
no sky, no horizon. Cautiously, he looked down and gasped. He was floating in
air!
“Don’t worry, you won’t fall. At least, not until I say so.”
Einarr looked back at the raven, his eyes wide. When the raven
glided toward him, he fell back on his hands.
The raven stopped, looked down while spreading out its
wings, and cocked its head. Suddenly, in its place stood a man in a black
cloak, “Is this better?”
“Who are you?”
“That is of no concern to you, mortal.”
“Why...”, Einarr paused, as the man cocked his head. He
continued, “...what do you want from me?”
“Aaah! Now that’s a good question. You will help me fulfil a
prophecy.”
“Prophecy?!”
Men shall kill, their greed to fill,
Soil the earth, with blood’s stainLife will wail, only death prevailUntil Man finds his heart again
The words reverberated through Einarr’s bones. Realization
slowly dawned on his face, “I thought that was just old wives’ tales”.
“There is much wisdom in old wives’ tales, if only men paused
for a moment to hear them.”
“Why am I here?”
The man appeared before Einarr and peered down at his face,
“I’ve been watching you, mortal. You and your wife.” Before Einarr could react,
the man’s eyes glazed over, “The warrior’s
strength, shall mend what’s broken.”
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