Om
The only person likely to be able to teach me about aura use ironically turns out to be the Hermit. The man was blinded in a battle by a hammer blow to the head when he was only 40 years of age. In those days he was apparently known as Gorr the Butcher, one of the most bloodthirsty warriors in the Norse tribe.
Always the first in a fight, always in the front line of an assault, always managing to kill a multitude of warriors in the most bloody way imaginable. His strength allowing him to cut through limbs and torsos and bone with his huge single-headed war axe. His Rage was apparently terrible to behold as it seemed to cause fear on everyone around him. His opponents seeming to slow down slightly or losing their strength.
But after he lost his sight everyone quickly lost their patience with him. 'Who will tolerate a blind fool who still thinks he's a warrior?' His mate said as she left him to find better prospects. Any woman can divorce their mate within the Norse, they just have to state their intentions to her man, then to the village and lastly in the longhouse to the village chief and witnesses.
And such was the shame of Gorr as his mate left him 40 years ago. After that, it is said his village tried to help him. Maintaining his house for him so it didn't crumble around him. Bringing him food and furs in winter. But for a warrior of his calibre, helplessness is a bitter reality to swallow.
It is said he tried travelling with the tribe as it went on raids. Stumbling behind trying to follow by sound, getting lost numerous times and being led home by children after he has been allowed to be thoroughly lost and miserable by the other warriors. Shaming him into remembering his place. And many hated him for his former arrogance. His village eventually fell in a raid though, sacked and burnt to the ground.
Even then it is said the invaders walked around him as he screamed his challenges. Hoping to be cut down and receive a warrior's death. But the Scavengers were not known for their mercy even back then. With the rest of the survivors, they went to Hill-Town and from support from Hill-town founded a new village.
But Gorr stayed a while and relocated to a different Norse village. An already established village far from any who knew him before, and there he was built an isolated house close to the Dawn Forest. There he accepted what had become of him, and he was known only as the Hermit. There he learnt humility, patience and despair. Giving up on life, giving up on death, becoming old and used to being blind. Reaching the ripe old age of 80, a true elder. A rarity among the battle-loving tribes.
With no prospects but befriended by many young people and creatures over the years. Creatures of the Dawn that would have killed anyone else, anyone except a blind old fool hoping to be killed that is. To the Awakened Beasts he became a curiosity in his pursuit of death and it's rumoured that some even deigned to speak to him.
A little over two years ago, when the fae arrived in the Tundra with their healing magic. He was eventually found and led to the new city being built, the city of Paradisum. Where the Barbarians, the fae, the dwarves and the Highlanders were building a city like none other. Using a combination of methods from all four peoples. Here he was offered healing but insisted on Awakening before all else instead. For he had heard rumours that a method of Awakening had been discovered for old veterans that qualify for the honour.
And now here he stands before me. The first of the Barbarians to fully complete his Awakening, but certainly not the only one. A man I only befriended because Hiro and Dee had befriended. Now hale and healthy, with smooth skin, a golden tanned complexion, trimmed beard, long thick blond hair, and a sash covering his once blind eyes.
When I was told about his life story I was not very surprised. Many a once hero has been debilitated by an injury that prevents further fighting but is denied an honourable death. But the quiet old man I've known all my life as the Hermit was anything but a warrior in my eyes. Stooped, with a long walking staff and a wolf that followed him around. Seemingly protecting him, but which he always cursed for it's 'meddling' and spoke to as though it were Awakened with sepient intelligence. I would have never guessed he was once a great warrior, but he was always the example made to the young in the village that refused to wear their helms.
Now he stands before me, the staff still in hand. The white wolf with a head that's at about 3"5' by his side watching me curiously. I see it now though, I see the warrior within and without him. Though he is lean for a Barbarian he is muscular. Tightly corded muscles that are more a result of hard work than fighting in the recent years.
The sash covering his eyes surprised me though. I had thought that Awakening heals all past ailments. But maybe blindness is an exception.
"I always liked you, Om. You reminded me a lot of myself in my younger days." He says clasping my forearm.
"Thank you. What should I call you now? I don't think 'Old Hermit' is appropriate anymore." I ask, looking from him to the wolf, which gets closer and sniffs me before moving away and lying on a cot by the window.
"Call me Gorr, it is my name though I haven't used it in many years." He says with a smile as we sit at his table. Gorr is one of the few that has taken full residence at The Arena apartments.
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"How is it that you are still blind?"
"Pfffh..." He snorts. "I always liked your bluntness as well. I am not a blind young warrior, I just see too much with my eyes open." He says mysteriously filling two cups from a jug of ale.
"Old Hermit. I'm told you could help teach me how to control my new abilities." I say after a swallow. He grins a mischievous grin.
"I am also newly Awakened, I am also attending the training sessions the fae and the dwarves are giving. What makes the others think I know more than they do?"
"They say in all your sparing matching you have never lost. They say you have a very unusual and dense aura."
I say what I was told about him by Old Man Tosting. Though Tosting might have been playing a joke on me.
"I was about to walk Fenrir here, walk with me through the city." He says getting up and going to his sleeping chamber.
He comes back a minute later wearing a hooded cloak made of suede deer hide. The cloak doesn't look very warm but it's very beautiful but leaves the arms exposed.
His face is in complete shadow though. I can't even see the sash I know he has across his eyes. I notice for the first time as he grabs his staff, signals to the wolf and walks to the door that he moves around like he isn't blind or blindfolded.
We walk through the wide hallway, passing by a couple in a dark corner moaning urgently. All the Awakened old men and women seem to be making up for lost time. Fucking as though for the first or last time.
Of the 188 Awakened Barbarians, two are pregnant, 16 have impregnated someone. All are fucking like rabbits with whomever they can have and there are many eager volunteers.
All except the hermit. We walk down the stairs, through another hall down more stairs that go all the way to the ground.
I would expect the bar that serves free ale, mead or spirits to Awakened Barbarians to be busy. But as we pass from the ornate passages of the Arena to the receiving hall and bar it's mostly empty.
All the newly Awakened do is fight and fuck. They hardly even eat, now needing physical sustenance less often than regular people.
"So where are we going?" I ask as the wolf leads the way. Walking on the grass path on the road made for the hoofed fae to walk comfortably and so horses can gallop with less risk of slipping on the ston paved path.
"I usually just follow Fenrir wherever his nose takes him."
I grunt. The hermit always liked to walk, must be something about being blind but I really don't mind that either, I like watching the city grow, or even joining some of the work teams as most of the young people that want houses do.
*
Gorr the Hermit
I look at the young man beside with whatever sense I use to see these days. I still have no word for it nor have I spoken much to the fae about it. I don't trust such beautiful creatures and the talk among the people is that they are deadly. I wish I could have witnessed this Never-Ending Battle the other Awakened speak so proudly of.
We pass by a dwarven store that sells clothing, I whistle to let Fenrir know I'm checking it out as I walk in followed closely by Om.
The moment I walk in I know where everything within 21 yards of me is, I know the texture of everything within 16 feet of me, and I know the colour, taste and effect of everything within a foot of me.
I walk through the store and forestall the dwarf storekeeper from talking with a raised hand. I know she didn't make most of these items.
There is a fae seamstress out in the city somewhere who finds it beneath herself to sell her wares but enjoys sewing. Using the dwarf as a proxy, not for profit though the prices are exorbitant, but the pleasure of seeing her work on display maybe.
I walk around once more, touching a few things to confirm what I already know. Yes, this is the same work as my hooded cloak. The magic woven into the clothes is subtle, but she does a little magic to everything she sews. Om is looking at me as though I've gone mad, I grin knowing he can't see my face. My fellow tribesmen find me strange, they are still mostly wearing furs or wearing boots, a kilt and nothing else. Clothing has always been optional among the tribes. And mostly I am the same, but my new 'sight' has made me aware of many things I would have normally overlooked. Seeing beauty even if I can't fully understand or appreciate it.
I lift the hood from my face and remove my sash from my eyes. Opening them slowly as they adjust to the magic around them. Everything is on fire. The entire world is on fire, smouldering slightly as it gives of mists, auras, mana, magic, feelings, shapes, sizes, secrets, light.
I see everything and it's overwhelming, but I focus my eyes on the dwarf standing stock still before me. Seeing her, in a way that amazes me and terrifies me. Whatever I've Awakened as I'm no longer primarily a warrior, I 'see' how limited the path of a warrior actually is and I pity my people the injustice that was done to us. The curse that was placed upon us so long ago that has crippled us as a people. Limiting us forever to be no more than what we currently are, warriors. The saddest part is that we are completely oblivious to how... reined we are.
"Will the seamstress see me yet?" I ask smoothly, politely, keeping my uncanny eyes on her.
She swallows, trying to look away but unable to. Fascinated by whatever she sees. The thing about seeing too much, most things see me as well. So when I look into a person deeply enough they can look just as deeply into me. I've already been noticed by a few things I would rather stayed oblivious of me.
"Ahh... The artis-, I mean the artist wishes to stay anonymous. Yes, sorry again sir. I ah... if you would like to buy... err... that is. She has some wares she thought you might like."
"She is aware of my interest?" I ask.
"Oh yes! Most definitely sir. You are the first of your people to truly appreciate the value of her art."
"No doubt when the others start noticing prices will be getting higher and I will already be a valued customer, receiving the best of prices," I say, looking away. My eyes catching Om, whose mouth gapes open and a shiver runs up my spine as I look into his eyes.
This boy could become a world-breaker. A thought that comes unbidden into my mind as though I understand subconsciously some of what I'm seeing. His limits are much much higher than the rest of ours are. I close my eyes and blind my eyes with the sash again.
"Tell the seamstress that as soon as I can afford other items from your lovely store good dwarf, I will avail myself to you. But I would rather meet with her in person before making such a purchase again." I say walking out.
Finding Fenrir at the door waiting for my exit. He is up and about as soon as he smells me, exploring once more.
Paradisum is a very interesting city. Not solely dedicated to humans but accommodating to nature to such an extent that the animals are at ease within it.
The fae designers have truly found a perfect balance that even Gaia and her fickle nature seem to have acknowledged. The perfect balance between human civilisation and Gaia's Nature.