Viking Story - Chapter 3 Beta (Patreon)

((Dropping a few other chapters while its off on Dev Edits - Still unedited))

“You’ll be gifted with an able body,” Odin repeated as Magnus tried to absorb what he had just heard.  “The boy died.  Death is a possibility until a Viking’s rune slots activate at age sixteen.  After that, it is hard for someone to stay dead unless they face certain foes… however, each time a Viking gets killed, the rune slots in their body and the runes they possess will decrease in power and potency.  Some runes will break after the first time, rendering that slot potentially closed forever for most.”

“What am I supposed to do for three years?” Magnus asked, feeling the chill of the cold fog as they stood just steps away from it.  

“Learn, adapt, build relationships, train, and get stronger,” the wrinkled man said.  “You must prove yourself at sixteen. I have complete faith that you will be able to figure out what must be done.”

As the god was about to open his mouth again, a raven flew through the fog and landed on Odin’s shoulder, cawing in his ear.

“Mugin says the time is now.  Good luck, warrior.”

Odin’s calloused hand was against the skin of his back, and a massive thrust sent Magnus forward into the mist.

Darkness enveloped him, and Magnus’s heart stopped for a second time.

—--

“Praise be to Eir! He is alive!”

The voice sounded so gruff in Magnus’s ears and he felt pressure on his forehead.  The world was still swimming in his mind and as he blinked twice, an older man, with enough wrinkles to show that he had seen some things, a long white beard twisted in knots, leaned right over his face, pushing down on him.

“Oh my boy!” a woman cried from his side.  “Praise be Eir and Odin! Einar is alive!”

A pitiful amount of clapping and some feet stomping made Magnus turn and try not to react to the scene before him. All around him were about a dozen people watching him.

Their skin was tan, and most of the men had tattoos on at least one arm. Everyone wore simple breaches and a top, thick leather boots, and a beard, most tied in some braid of some sort.

A few held tools like shovels or pitchforks, reminding Magnus of some of the old tools in his father’s barn.  

Wetness touched his cheek as he realized a woman was pressed against him, sobbing and squeezing him tight.

What the hell?! Where–

His own thoughts got cut off as everything seemed to flood through his mind.  That whole thing with Odin wasn’t just a dream.  He was somewhere else, and the world around him looked like a medieval version of what matched a show he had seen on the TV one year.

I’m in a god damn Viking settlement!

Trying to push up, the woman and older man kept him down.

“Rest, boy!” the older man who had a hand on his shoulder now said. “I just healed you, but give it a moment.  You took a nasty blow to the head.  I’m surprised you actually lived.”

After the man spoke, his head turned, and Magnus followed the man’s gaze. He saw a well-built teenager wearing a nicer pair of pants and a leather jerkin, frowning at the old man.  

Next to him was a massive man wearing even nicer clothes who, based on their expressions and matching facial features, had to be the boy's father.

“Do not say anything else, Hragnelf, or you might find yourself brought up on charges you wouldn’t like,” the man stated loudly.  “If the boy isn’t dead, then there is no need for us all to be gathered here.  Everyone return to work!”

As if someone had cracked a whip, everyone started to move away.

“So should I send your son the bill for the healing, Reinn? It was Guat who almost killed Einar.  Had I been a little later–” 

Magnus saw the large man’s look of anger, and his hand rose to stop the older man. He could see tattoos on both arms and one peeking out on the man’s chest.  

“Do not speak again, I am warning you!” Reinn snapped, his face turning into a snarl as he narrowed his brown eyes at Hragnelf before noticing everyone else had stopped leaving and was watching this moment play out.  Snorting in frustration, the man smacked his own son across the back of the head, sending the teen boy stumbling forward.

“He will pay the price.”

The tone of Reinn’s voice sounded like two rocks grinding against each other, but once he had spoken them, the man glared at everyone before turning and started toward a horse that was waiting for him.

“Einar, are you ok?”

Realizing the woman who had tears that had drenched his cheek and her own must be the boy's mother, Odin said he would be put into.  The idea that he was in someone else's body felt weird, yet the physical side of it felt wonderful.

Old joint pains, sore muscles, and fingers he had broken so many times that they were hard to bend sometimes were all gone. Instead, Magnus couldn’t remember ever feeling this great.  

The woman looked at him again. “Einar?”

“Yes, I’m okay,” Magnus replied, hearing his own voice and almost wincing at how high it sounded. “I feel fine.”

“You heard him, Thora. Let the boy up.”

Magnus turned and saw the man standing behind the woman he knew to be his mother. He had shoulder-length brown hair, and his beard had dirt in it, even with the braids tied in. Brown eyes under scrunched brows and a frown watched him.

His mother sniffed, wiped her face, and stood up. Her long blond hair peeked out under a cloth that covered it and kept it tied back behind her.  

“Think you can sit up?” 

Max nodded, and the hand on his shoulder from the man who must have healed him was removed.  

Rolling over, Magnus got on his hands and knees and then stood up slowly, feeling his new body out.  He could see that his arms and legs were skinny, not muscular like the ones he had spent a lifetime developing.  They were tanned with a few scars along them, dirty knuckles, and some blood on the top of his hand.

Standing to his feet, he could see that only a few had remained as the man who had to be in charge had road off, leaving the one who had beaten this boy to death.  A stone lay on the ground near the one they called Hragnelf, covered in blood.  

Reaching up to his hair, Magnus felt a scar along the ridge of his hairline.

“I’m afraid that will always be there,” Hragnelf grunted as he stood. I didn’t have the wyrd to keep healing. Besides, everyone knows a woman Viking loves a man with a few scars.”

His father grunted and shook his head while the boy's mother rolled her eyes, wiping them once more.

Turning quickly and naturally assuming a position that wouldn’t leave him off balance, Magnus saw the boy Guat staring at him, anger pulsing in his brown eyes. The teen was taller than him and frowned, unsure what Magnus was planning on doing.

“Let it go, both of you,” the old healer called out.  “If I have to heal either one of you any time soon, it will not go well for both. Do you understand?”

Magnus nodded, unsure what had transpired but not ready to get into a fight within his first few minutes of arriving in this new body and world.

Guat grunted and backed away slowly, not taking his eyes off Magnus until a few more yards had been put between them. He was heading down the same dirt road his father had ridden off on.

Magnus took a deep breath and couldn’t help but appreciate how amazing the air smelled.  It had an earthy scent, but there wasn’t any hint of pollution or anything else to muddle it.  He was in the middle of a road, with a well about twenty yards away and a building near it.  All around were fields with what looked like some kind of grain growing, nearing the time it would need to be harvested.

He spun around slowly, taking in all the new sights, shaking his head as he spotted two different planets or moons in the sky even though the sun was almost directly above.

“You sure he’s ok?” his mother asked, moving to where Magnus stood.  

“Einar!  Einar!”

Magnus realized they were talking to him and turned his attention to his father, who had been shouting his son’s name.

“What’s wrong with you, boy?”

“Sorry, father. I'm just a little overwhelmed.  Things seem a bit shaken up inside.”

His father cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. The way the man stared at him before turning to Hragnelf felt off.

“The fact he can still walk and talk is a blessing, Valgard. Do not push him too hard today.  The healing will take time to finish, and we all know he shouldn’t be alive.”

Magnus saw his father grunt and then grab the shovel that was planted in the ground near him.  

“Thora, get him home. He can rest tonight.  Tomorrow, he’ll need to make up for today and everything it’s going to cost us.”

She opened her mouth to say something and stopped, seeing that her husband was gone, already moving down the road at a brisk pace.

“Let’s go home, son,” Thora said as she moved to where Magnus was and slid an arm through his.

Nodding, Magnus turned and waved at Hragnelf, who was tugging gently on the braids of his white beard. He studied the pair as they walked off.

The walk had been longer than Magnus had expected, taking almost an hour as he studied the area around him.  A few houses appeared, built out of wood and covered with a thatch roof.  They looked sturdy, but he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of world this was. 

Odin said this place had rune magic and they fought creatures from other realms… Why is the homes not any better? Where are the stone or paved roads that would make this place easier to get along.

“What’s on your mind, my little farmer?”

The soft and sweet voice of the woman who hadn’t let go of his arm, lest she wake up from a dream and find him dead, left Magnus with a lot of questions.

“I can kind of remember some of this, but inside,” Magnus said, tapping his temple, “things feel jumbled up.  I’m sorry if I’m acting weird.”

She squeezed his arm tighter, and he could see she forced a smile on her face. “I understand.  Hragnelf said it might take some time for you to be fully healed.  What is it you are struggling with.”

Pausing, Magnus tried to decide how far he could push the questions.  There was a lot to learn, and he wasn’t sure how much time he had or what access to information he would come across.  If farming was his life, that would lead to long hours and little time for studying or anything else he felt he needed to learn.

If I want to save Martinez and Dawson, I need to figure out a few major things first.

“I know Odin watches over us, but where are all those from the other realms that want to hurt us?”

The woman scoffed, eyes widening and her mouth almost opening for a moment before she clamped her lips shut.  She shook her head and frowned.

“What kind of question is that Einar?  Did that bastard Guat really do that much damage to you?”

Squinting his eyes, Magnus rubbed them and shrugged.  

“I know I should remember some things, but they seem fuzzy.  I also…” Magnus paused and stopped, turning to face his mother.  He knew if there was going to be any person in this whole world he could trust, it was her.  A mother's love was absolute, and the way she had behaved so far proved it.  “I saw the All-Father,” Manus whispered.

This time, her mouth hung open, and her eyes managed to get so wide that they shook.

“You saw…” she asked, holding her hand over her mouth, unable to take her eyes off of Magnus.

He nodded slowly and held a finger up to his lips.

“I did, but he told me I could only tell one person or something bad would happen. That means I can only trust you with this secret.  Do you want to know what he said?”

It took a moment for the mother of the body he was now living in to respond.  Her eyes lit up, and she glanced around them to ensure no one was coming down the road or nearby in the fields.

“Tell me, Einar!”

Inside, Magnus smiled.  A lifetime of learning to read and control people was still in his head.  While the physical side of him might be weak, his mind didn’t have any problems knowing what to say.