Ingrid woke to dull pain and a painful throat. The morning was just peaking through the cracked stone covering the door of her redoubt. Which is what had awoken her from the near dead sleep.

Any other time she would have been harsh with herself for sleeping so soundly. A creature could have killed her in her sleep, and it didn't even have to be a Beast!

Yet, the rush of power from last night's Hunt still pulsed within her. The crimson-gold light of Megin filling her with strength, and even her more serious cuts had been healed. She barely felt any of the pulled muscles or normal soreness.

It was like the times she had drank with her father after a particularly good Hunt. The mead had burned at first, but then lead to her feeling like a leaf on the breeze. With Megin that feeling wasn't going away.

Jumping to her bare feet, her shoes had gotten lost last night, she ran outside to greet the morning light. So excited she roared at the sky uncaring about things that would hear.

Not only had she completed her father's True Heart Technique, but had surpassed it. The strange knots twisting along the edge of her actual heart seemed a different color than the crimson-gold. Yet, it was more than three rings of inter-locking triangles.

Her father had said that each set of rings made refining Megin easier and easier and gave potential to match. With the fourth ring, even if it wasn't the same, she should be able to grow faster than anyone!

If her father could make Thegn in ten years when fifty was the norm, she should be able to do it in two. The vision of her vengence became clearer in her mind as she flexed her hand.

Last night, she could barely move it, and now it was stronger than Albert had been. She could imagine crushing his own strong, calloused hands.

Then, a pain shot through her heart, and she fell to her knees. A mixture of emotions poured out of her as tears. Her fist slamming into the stone over, and over, and over.

"I could have saved someone with this strength!" She screamed into the ground. Blood dripping from her knuckles before healing rapidly, only to repeat with the next hit.

A loud snap brought her attention to the forest, and her eyes locked with boar. A laugh escaped her as the irony struck. Of course there was a boar now, even if it wasn't a Beast.

The boar charged and her mind cleared. Wyrd was in everything, and she had been hungry since the town burned. The boar had no chance.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

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Albert rested his chin on his hand as he looked out at the setting sun.

"You know you are going to get in trouble." He said, not bothering to look at the tree. Ingrid scoffed at him, this boy had been bothering her for weeks.

"I am never going to leave you alone." He continued, still not moving from his place, "Maybe I am doing this for a chance to be a Warrior, and maybe it's just because of you." A flash of anger burned through her at his words.

Albert was the blacksmith's son, and she had been pushing him to get to know her better. Ingrid knew that Mary had an interest in her father, but Olaf refused to offer a stone to anyone. Something Ingrid was glad for.

"Want to wrestle again?" His voice turning hopeful, being a year older than her gave him an advantage. Ingrid remained silent. She wasn't sure how to deal with him most of the time.

He wanted to be a warrior, but he was the only one who continued to bother her after nearly three months. The rest gave up when it was clear she wasn't going to invite them over ever.

"There is a pretty vein of stone on the cliffs north of here." He coughed oddly at that, before he turned to look up at her tree, "Want to go see it?"

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Ingrid dashed towards the boar, and then went low and too the side when its breath hit her. Straightening her arm like a pole she broke through it's leg with ease.

Before her Heart, she would have been broken instead, but now the animal crashed to the ground and tumbled several times before coming to a stop. She could see the shattered bones sticking out of its right leg.

It cried out in pain and tried to stand up. The stubbornness of a boar reminded her of Albert's insistence gaze as he looked out every day at the sunset. Anger and regret flared again and she vented it upon the struggling creature.

Axe in hand, she hacked at it's other legs. They broke with effort, but it would have been everything she had before. Now it was just a good swing to cut the thick bones cleanly.

Blood loss was hitting the boar hard after that as the ground became stained a deeper red. The fight was already over, but she needed to hurt it more. It wasn't a Beast, but if it HAD been, if it HAD been there instead of the Bear. If it had been days ago. If she had pushed harder.

If

If

If

She blinked when she saw the red cloth. It was resting in the cooling blood of the creature and clearly absorbing far more than should have been possible. The boar just barely looked like a boar still.

So much of it's hide had been cut away while it faded into death. A weight of shame hit her as her mind cleared up. The hunters of the town would have beat her for torturing a creature.

Which made the anger and guilt burn brighter. It was almost a living thing in her chest. Like the way her Warrior Heart wrapped around her real heart. The flame of vengence burned bright when she thought about them.

Taking a breath, she began to clear the space, and make some rope. She would have to hang the body for a while to make sure the blood drained completely.

Drying, salting, and smoking the meat would be something she would have to do in stages. Leaving so much meat around would be an insult to her teachers and lessons. She had enough dishonor to work through without adding more.

With that thought, she noticed that the red cap was gone again and sighed. At least that would buy her another day.