Yrungr Registered User
Posts: 1
(6/2/03 7:19 pm) Reply
The Rain
Sorry it took me all so long to get my first post up, I had writer's block. Then, at work today, it just came to me. Thanks to Odelagga and Sinnove for inspiration.
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Yrungr and Odelagga stood back to back in the midst of six Albions, Abermenai looming behind them. Sinnove, Daughter of Eir, stood on the top of the slope under the safety of the Viking guards, her hands raised to the sky to her patron Goddess for the healing that would see these men through the battle. The Thane blocked a blow intended for his comrade with his shield and parried another aimed at him with his hammer. He bellowed an ancient incantation to Thor, and the Albions around the two Norse crackled with lightning...
"He is gone and there is nothing we can do about it. The Old Father wrote the fate of Magnus long ago in the runestone," said Yrungr's father, Magnus. But the old man choked back tears for his oldest son. There were still four daughters and a son to care for, along with his wife, Gretchen.
The family was all weary, close to starvation. Yrungr's older brother had succumbed to a combination of that and the toil of tilling the hopelessly dry field. There had been no rain in the short growth season of Midgard, and they were far too remote to depend on others for help. But what could Yrungr do? He was but a boy of five. He knew the seriousness of the situation. A life of hardship had weathered him beyond his young age.
The situation grew desperate. Magnus was going to leave on the morrow for Galplen to bring foodstuffs to last them through to the next season, which would hopefully be fruitful in a way the current one had not been. It was not an ideal situation, to leave Gretchen alone with the children, but it had to be done.
On that morning, which dawned clear, bright, and desolate, Yrungr stepped out in his nightgown. His bare feet made small dust clouds across the hard, dry ground. He had a dream that night. He was older, or the man in the dream was old. It looked like him, it had to be him. But his hair was blonde! Yrungr's was the deepest black, like his father's. He was clad in chain mail, and there was lightning all about, a perfect maelstrom of rain and chaos. Trolls, Kobolds, Norse, Dwarves, and a short race of fearsome looking people he did not know were all shouting together. There was a deafening boom of thunder and an enormous hammer appeared in the sky, whirling in the air before coming to the ground with a roar. A young Norsewoman, her hair a fiery red, stood by him. She was a Daughter of Eir. She was beautiful.
He shuffled out to the center of their fields, not even sure of what he was doing. Indeed, the boy was in a trance and not aware of his surroundings. He began to speak, but he did not recognize the words, or even the voice that spoke them. All around, the sky turned gray, almost black. Thunder began to boom, but it was not furious -- it was soft, almost comforting, like the Earth was reckoning for the loss to this family. Lightning lit in the sky, short flashes of white in the clouds.
Magnus had run out with the family. They all stared in wonder at the sky. Magnus looked around until he saw Yrungr. "Yrungr..." he breathed softly. The boy looked so fragile standing there alone in the field. With horror, he realized Yrungr was in grave danger of being struck by lightning. "Boy!" he screamed, running for the young lad.
Just then, Yrungr reached his hand to the sky. A bolt of lightning sparked to life. But it did not hit him. It struck the ground in front of him in the center of the field. The bolt lifted him off his feet and threw him some twenty feet back. His father was soon by his side, running with a large gait.
"Son!" he screamed, cradling his only son in his arms. He gasped. Yrungr's body was smoking, but he still had a pulse, he was merely unconscious. His hair was a stark blonde. The heavens opened up and poured rain down on the two while Gretchen and the girls wept behind them...
The battle had concluded, and the two Vikings, men of the North, were victorious. They faced each other, panting. They clasped hands, each pulling so they came close together. Yrungr smiled and looked up at Sinnove on the hill, her deep, red hair shining in the sunlight.
Yrungr Magnusson
Thane of Midgard
Sinnove Registered User
Posts: 5
(6/3/03 10:40 am) Reply
Re: The Rain
Minn brudir, that was a very beautiful story. I look forward to reading more of the young Thane.
Thanks to Odelagga and Sinnove for inspiration.
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