Chapter 1

Life is perfect. It's a phrase many of us strive to one day apply to our life. I just settle to do so sarcastically. It's not that life on the island is bad but, well… it has its moments.

Growing up, I was always the strongest, bravest, most-capable person in my tribe. I had to be--and while that statement may seem self-serving and boastful, it can be quite a burden sometimes.

Whenever there's some far-gone task that no one wants to do, something too high to reach, a new creature or bug that someone needs smashing, my name is the first they call.

"Yrsa Dalgaard!"
"Someone get Yrsa!"
"Yrsa! Where are you?!"

I've heard it all too many times... but that still doesn't stop me from complying with their daily wishes without a thorn in my side; someone has to. I guess I don't mind... except on the days when I'm feeling really through, but I'd like to think those come rarely.

You would think that a Viking village would have more than enough hands to make it through the day, but in this strange, unknown world, everyone is met with intangible odds.

During a bright and warm morning on the island, the whole tribe was in motion, preparing for a productive day of unpredictable work. Fishermen and women were gathering their nets, blacksmiths were firing up their furnaces, hunters were crafting their arrows, and the Viking king was getting ready for what was supposedly to be his morning "wood sculpting" for the day.

The king wasn't your traditional leader, but this wasn't your traditional Viking tribe; in fact, he wasn't really much of a leader either; his wife, the Viking Queen Avayale took the lead above him.

It was said that the king had an illness that made his mind weak and fragile the more he aged. No one exactly spoke of what his illness was, but everyone knew that because of it, he was pretty compliant to his Queen's wishes and let her take nearly all responsibility of leadership. Something though told me he didn't mind at all.

Maybe that's why our village never quite fit in with the other Viking tribes... back when our territory was still attached to the Norse Lands. We were always different... in a good way. Not to mention, life in the new world had its unique expectations that encouraged the queen to change the way we did things bit by bit as time passed.

I often wonder if we met up with another Viking tribe from our past, if they would even recognize us. But if there's one thing that each one of us have had to accept from being on this island long enough was that, that was not going to happen any time soon.

At the present moment, my roommate Karmen Su and I were busy tiding up our dorm room, which was littered with objects, tools, totems that didn't see much use. Karmen had made it a habit to remind me of this on a reoccurring basis. In fact, she did so just now.

Dusting off an old belonging, Karmen began, "You do know the objective of today is to cleanse your room of any items of distraction or irrelevance for the new month, not just move them around."

Karmen had black hair and a dark and broody aura about her, along with a voice that rarely portrayed any enthusiasm. One look at Karmen and one would have thought she was extremely depressed and tired of life, but the ones who knew her better would tell you that wasn’t entirely true. At least not one hundred percent of the time.

This overtly aloof and pessimistic demeanor made Karmen a bit of an acquired taste to others and was the reason she didn’t have many friends. But then again, neither did I.

I spoke up, "If the goal is to rid my home of any unwanted annoyances or distractions, shouldn't I start with you?" I set the relic I was holding back onto the shelf from where I had lifted it, this time in a substantially different position than before. One that was completely the same if you asked Karmen. I hated this sort of frivolous work.

Karmen ignored my comment by habit, perching her elbow on the window seal and resting her chin on her palm. The woman sighed, letting the sunlight and fresh air pour over her face.

"What?" I asked with a mix of suspicion and agitation in my voice.

"Him..." Karmen muttered in a tone that was different from usual.

"What?" I repeated, more suspiciously than before, and I came over to look out the window. From the view to outside the village's training center in which we stood, I could see various people coming and going, a few warriors sparing, others bringing along equipment and weaponry. And sure enough, there was the person of her admiring.

A tall bearded man, medium build, dressed in ordinary Norse garb. He was currently lifting some heavy metal spikes onto a cart for an elder who was helpless to do so. His short sleeves showed off flexing strong-built arms.

"I mean, I’ve seen worse..." I said aloofly. I viewed the man from a somewhat distant perspective, but I guess I could see where she was coming from.

Karmen's voice went back to being monotone and somehow devoid of emotion. "All the women in the village have their sights set on him for his strong muscles and luxurious beard. 'Say that he’s the ideal man."

Getting back to what I was doing before, I continued, "Well, you know what I say; don't judge a book by its cover... or rather, a man by his beard." I said with a grunt as I set a stack of books aloft a shelf. "Looks often do very little as an impression on someone."

"Well, that's good, because some men are worth the risk... and that man will soon be mine."

I set something down abruptly. "Do you hear yourself when you’re talking?"

Karmen cut off my inquiry. "Wait a minute, I think he's coming our way."

"Now you're just hallucinating."

"Not at all. We just made eye contact, and now he's heading this way." She waved out the window uncharacteristically.

"You're kidding me... Right?" Asked I dubiously, before leaning to look outside once more.

Karmen finally departed from the window and began work on what we were actually tasked with doing for the day. "Come on. Let's clean up this mess of yours before he gets here!"

"This mess of ours, you mean." I couldn't hold back the comment and tried to act nonchalant as I cleared off a counter top.

Too soon for us to make any real progress, the door swung open.

"Hello ladies." It was the aforementioned bearded man, holding a bag of steel and iron tools in one hand. "I was just taking care of some local repairs around the village, got distracted helping an elder woman with some lifting when I saw you. I remembered someone saying to me something about a table here that needed to be fixed. Would now be a good time for me to take a look at that for you?"

"Well, we're actually kind of in the middle of--"

"Of course." I was interrupted by Karmen's grizzled tone.

"I'm Liam by the way. Liam Erkens." His voice was a little higher in tone than I had expected. So it was the beard that made him look a little older than he was. Unlike the deep gravely voice I had conjured up in my mind upon first glance, his voice sounded laid back and casual, even a bit inviting. That placed him at around his mid-twenties, the same as Karmen and I.

"I'm Karmen Su," Karmen said, then gestured to me with slender hands. "... and this is my roommate Yrsa Dalgaard."

"Nice to meet you... Erkens." I hesitantly and slowly shook his hand.

There was a small pause in which no words were spoken.

"The table's inside." I reverted the subject back to the topic at hand with a gesture into the vast Viking training center building's caretakers dorm I currently (and quite possibly reluctantly) call home.