Ingrid sat for a moment. Her body frozen in the fear of those raised on the stories of Shaman.

---

Ingrid spun her axe as she watched the other kids gather at Elder Ragna's house. She had gotten used to the slow pace of the town, but it still rubbed her the wrong way.

Albert caught her eye with a grin. Her hand twitched to grab a non-existent rock to throw at him. He had been getting smug about spending the most amount of time with her.

Even if that time was him in various states of pain. It seemed that the others thought him strong and courageous for his actions.

She flicked her fingers towards him, and he flinched just as if the rock was thrown. Which made her smirk at him when he returned his eyes to her. Beaten by a girl younger than him, her father always laughed about it.

Though Olaf also seemed to smile more when she told him stories of her fighting Albert. It was more alive than she had seen him in years. Which made her more happy than she could express.

Perhaps, in a small way, she should thank Albert for making her father smile like that. He still spent a lot of time out in the dark, training and raging.

The memory dampened her mood, but the appearance of Elder Ragna leveled it out again. He had been talking about this lecture for weeks, and it was one that Ingrid was curious about.

"Shamans." The old man said simply, and all the kids leaned in eagerly. It was one thing to talk about the noble and powerful Warriors, but the secretive Shaman? That was something even Ingrid, daughter of a powerful Warrior, could be interested in.

"They don't make deals with the Fae, or Tuatha as they like to be called," His voice settling in for a long one, "Seidr comes from Wyrd just like Megin, but it works on the world around us. Like Megin works on what is inside of us." He created another spark of gold.

"The Fae don't use Wyrd like we do, and some stories claim they use something more pure." His words making some kids mutter. Ingrid tilted her head, was he talking about the Einherjar?

"But that's not important. What is important is Seidr and the Shaman," His eyes flicked to Ingrid and nodded towards her, "We have a Warrior in town, and his strength has helped all of us in several ways. From cutting wood to clearing out the Beasts of the forests."

"We have seen his strength and have even seen his wounds heal faster than any other. Yet, his feats are common place before the magic of the Shaman." He made a second and third golden spark appear above his hand.

"While they cannot cut a tree down with a single cut, they can make the tree fall down and separate itself into perfect planks." The sparks moved from a line into separate sparks again. It was actually impressive he could do that.

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Wyrd was hard to control unless it was refined, but he was able to make it appear and move around. He would be a powerful Warrior, Ingrid thought.

"Fire, water, the skies, all fall into the hands of the Shaman. Which is why you should always have a healthy fear of those that carry the mark of the World Tree."

---

A shiver ran through her as she ran towards Merin. The movement helped to banish the memories back to the box where they belonged.

She had started to smell smoke while recalling this particular memory, and slowly realized it wasn't the memory that was causing it. Far in the distance she could see a faint haze of smoke.

The anger had returned with a vengeance, and she ran even faster. If they were still in the middle of killing or taking people she would fight.

Yet, when she reached the line of charred wooden posts it was clear this had been burning for days. Not long after her own town had burned, but certainly not recent either.

As the anger flared, she punched the burned wood and it broke off. A light stinging followed, but she brushed it off as she looked out at the ruins.

Megin had been a larger town than her own, with closer to 200 people and they even had a dedicated baker. Ingrid could faintly remember the honey candy they had gotten when they passed through.

She took a deep breath to center and focus herself. Emotions were the enemy here, it was too much like her home. Burned memories and bloodstains soaking the ground here.

Shaking from the effort she pulled her axe out, and slashed a red line into her thigh. Bringing a cry to her lips, but she turned it into a groan instead.

Tears pooled in her eyes and she brushed them away so she could search. There had to be supplies here at least. If she was lucky maybe even someone who give her information.

If there were bodies she could burn them and reaffirm her oath of vengeance. If not, then she would make the oath in the morning, she would need sleep after this.

Time blurred by as she dug through the burned ruins and found a few cellars that held some stone or metal tools. She just made a pile to sort through later, it wasn't worth it when she felt so tired.

One burned timber moved after another felt heavier and heavier. She didn't even feel the falling tears as she worked. There was a lot of hope that Merin would be safe.

A place she could rest and not see the hand of destruction. Perhaps she could find some to join her on this heavy quest. But, it seemed the Fates had set her path, and none stepped off Fate's path.

So deep in her thoughts she almost missed the change in color and the sound. To the point she didn't realize her body had stopping moving for a full minute.

It had been a grain barn at the edge of the town, just beyond the walls. Yet, the thing she had lifted the beam off of wasn't just another ashen remain.

It was a person, or at least an arm of one. Blinking rapidly, her heartbeat picked up and her breathing tightened. Megin flared in response to her reaction and breath.

Blazing strength and life filled her as desperation joined together in her grasping hands. Within seconds the burned wood had been tossed away like sticks for kindling, and she was rewarded with the sight of a battered young woman.

The light, stuttered breathing meant she was still alive, but the sight caused Ingrid to freeze. The arms were bent the wrong way, and, oddly, she didn't have any bleeding wounds. But, otherwise, she was quite alive.

Days, she thought. It must have been days she has been here. Why was that important? This is a person. I found a person!

Tears fell from her eyes again as she hugged herself. The pain of the last few...candles? days? It didn't matter. It was worth it to find a person!

As the tears fell, she felt how raspy her throat was, and it clicked.

"Water," She coughed out, "You need water..." Scrambling to the side of her crude pack, and unhooking the water skin there. It wasn't full, but that was fine.

"Little water," She muttered, recalling her lessons, "You need sips after too long without." Holding the flask in steady hands to the woman's lips.