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 those 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 apparently 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 all we knew was that because of it, he was pretty compliant to his Queen's wishes and let her take the 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 learned from being on this island so far was that, that was not going to happen anytime soon.

At the present moment, my roommate Karmen Su and I were busy tiding things up in our 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 her usual voice, which was monotone and devoid-of-energy.

"What?" I repeated, more suspiciously than before, and I came over to look out the window. From the view, 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 clothes. He was currently lifting some heavy metal spikes onto a cart for an elder who was helpless to do so. His short sleeve garb showed off flexing strong-built arms.

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

"All the women in the village have their sights set on him for his strong arms and luxurious beard. They say he’s the ideal man."

Getting back to what I was doing, I continued, "Well, you know what I say; don't judge a book by its cover... or rather, a man by his beard. Looks often do very little as an impression on someone." I placed a few books in a shelf.

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

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

Karmen cut off my inquiry. "Wait, 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."

"Really...?" I asked dubiously and looked out the window once more.

Karmen finally departed from the window seal and began to do what we were actually tasked with doing for the day. "Come on. Let's clean up this mess of yours before he arrives." Karmen spoke these words with no audible cue of interest or vigor.

"This mess of ours, you mean." I couldn't hold back the comment and began clearing off the table top.

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

"Hello there, ladies." It was the aforementioned bearded man, holding a bag of  tools in one hand. "I was just taking care of my daily repairs for the day, got distracted helping an old lady with some lifting when I saw you. I remembered someone saying 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 somethi--"

"We’d be honored." I was interrupted by Karmen.

"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 impression, his voice sounded layed back and casual, even a little friendly. That placed him at around his mid-twenties, the same as Karmen and I.

"I'm Karmen Su," Karmen said before gesturing to me. "... and this is my roommate Yrsa Dalgaard."

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

There was a small pause where no words were spoken.

"The table's inside." I changed the subject back to the topic at hand with a gesture into the dorm.