The Viking and Hathian

 

So it would come to pass, the Viking would find himself in Hathian.  Having travelled long from his home.

 

The beginning -

 

His birth was called demonic possessed, for he raged.  He did not cry, as he breached the womb that held him caged and entered the world, parents who had been so happy before became filled with fear.  He clawed, he fought, he screamed.  It was a time in which none in the little Scottish Commune would ever forget.  The community, a christian settlement lived side by side neighbor always helping one another, always there to greet each other and above all, worshipping their one God.

 

As the years passed and he grew, none in the community would see him with the exception of three men of their God who would come to 'excorcise the demon within him' and the few that came with.  On two of those occasions, he nearly died, the bloodletting performed draining him of life.  And at the age of 13 after a life of physical and mental abuse, he took the weapon used to administer daily beatings from his 'father's' hand and used it to nearly kill the man, then fled.  He found himself miles away and at an old abandoned warehouse.  For several days he slept there, scrounging for food in the small town near by and then he was found, not by police or anyone searching for him, but by accident.  A man with a case entering the warehouse, going to a window at the highest part of the building, he sat and opened the case, removing parts to a rifle and assembling it.  The boy watched and waited.

 

He took aim from the window

 

His finger slowly squeezing the trigger

 

An explosion of fire and powder

 

And as he turned to pack the weapon back into the case, the boy stood, no fear, no warning, the boy simply watched in curiousity and spoke not a single word.  Not wanting to leave a witness, but also not kill the boy, the man took him and fled.  Months went by and the man was finally able to get the boy to speak.  He told the man where he had lived, or atleast he thought where he had and the man knew of such a place.  So he took him there and when they arrived, they where met with unwelcomed glares.  Having found the home of the boy's parents, the man spoke to them, leaving the boy outside.  When he finally left the home, he looked at the boy and told him he was now his.

 

From that day forward, the man spent the next nearly 7 years teaching the boy to read, to write, to talk, the things he had never learned.  In someways to even love and called him son.  Amongst the normal teachings, he also taught him the art of assassination.  The elusive ways to kill, to find his mark and to eliminate it. It was in this that the boy calmed, the rage within him becoming controlled and he made himself a promise, that what had happened to him, he would never do.  Children and women with children where not an option, he would not harm them.

 

The man though, had other plans,  his first kill.  A young woman, the wife of a political terrorist who threatened to speak to the press about what her husband had been doing.  He refused of course and the man told him that he would either kill or be killed.  The rage within him rushed forward in a flash of furious hate and then there was silence,  he was covered in blood, but not his own.  The man was strung by his neck his insides spilling out, a girgling coming from his throat, the last bit of air escaping his lungs as the exposed meat of them deflated.

 

The boy, no, the now man left, the rage still strong within him.  To the commune where those who birthed him lived.  He walked through the streets, those of the community gasping in shock at the blood soaked giant.  To the house of those who birthed him.  He did not knock, he simple broke the door in and met them eye to eye.  The woman held a child within her arms and he stopped, his intent to end them halted by what lay before him.  It was in that he looked at them and told them that when they died, he wished to know, sot hat he may dance in joy and drink a cheer and he turned and left, never to look back, never to call them family.

 

Though he still raged, hsi trust in the one person he thought cared for him shattered.  So he went north to the Norwegian Sea until he Reached Troms, a northern county bordering Finnland within Norway.  From there, he travelled south and continued along the land, trying to find peace. His rage burned and the flames continued to be fanned and he killed.  It was not until he entered Hedmark and headed deep into the forests that he found his solitude, and for 7 months, he tried and still could not find his peace, neither man nor beast qualed his rage.

 

When he was found by those of the woods, they fought with him for what seemed days, though it was much less.  20 men to hold him down, the elders said he had the fire of Odin's hearth and the blood of Fenrir in his veins.  A simple prick of a dart to make him slumber and when he awoke, he was neither chained nor caged and his heart began to soften for what stood before him was a women, long raven black hair and eyes of saphires, her skin soft and pure.  He reached out and touched her, not sure if she where real and it was her smile that set the beast at bay.

 

They taught him to love again, and in return, loved him.  They called him family and the elders taught him much including to speak their native language.  It took several years for him to trust again, but one kept tugging at him, one could soothe him when he began to rage, one could step where no other could and come out unscathed, His Raven Haired beauty.  He thought of her as Freya and so called her as such and loved her.

 

15 years passed and she wanted to see New York, touch it's skies and with the permission of the elders, he took her.  Before he left, he took an oath to protect her from harm.  They had not been there three days and as he left a little shop, hsi broken english giving them a meal and what the man called expresso, he saw her walk from the little hotel they stayed in and it was then his rage could not be contained.  A man screamed calling her a heathen, the flash of steel in his hand, the blade sunk into her skull and she collapsed.

 

His heart shattered and all the rage spilled forth, he held her for a long time no one could get near her, she had been cold from the moment he reached her.  He sought the one who took her from him and it was that man's fate that he be a meal for Muninn and Huginn, Odin's ravens.  There, in an ally way of New York, the man was strung his back laid open, his ribs pulled free in the form of the blood eagle.

 

He sent her to his home, but could not return even though the elders begged him to, they did not fault him, they wished his return so that he could heal.  But he could not because he felt he failed her, failed his love.  For many years after he raged and killed and 4 years later, he settled, though he was not content, a woman in Texas stole his heart and for nearly a year they lived together as common law, until she betrayed him.  Taking all but a few things form him, he left Texas and that is when he found Hathian, where he lives now.

 

Those that know him call him Damian, those who call him friend know him as Oth.

 

Freya

Eostre

 

and it was not Freya who swayed his heart, it was another..