Markus 3

Markus stared blankly at the sea, watching the waves crashing against the ship. The silvery threads of moonlight dripped on the sea, while a tapestry of stars shone in the night sky.

The scenery disappeared. In its place was a mountain. A man stood beside Markus. His long, blond hair was braided neatly. His beard was cut short. He was around 2-meter-high, though his body appeared slim, rather than bulky. His red eyes held such intensity, and within them was an unwavering strength that made Markus shiver. He did have a scholarly look, if only scholars could look so deadly.

Well, to be fair, scholars and their ideas tended to control the lives and deaths of man. Oftentimes, even unproven, baseless concepts can lead to the deaths of millions. So perhaps this man represented that idea.

While not particularly handsome, he still had a certain charm that drew Markus to him. Perhaps it was the power he radiated, or was it the sense of stability he gave off? It might be something else entirely, or a combination of all these feelings.

If there was a glaring flaw to this man, it would be his lack of an arm.

Instinctively, he knew who that was, information flowing into his mind: Tyr; God of Courage and Honor, of Law and Justice; Guardian of Oaths and Treaties; the One-armed Warrior; the Harbinger of War and Triumph; Mankind’s Valor; the Most Valiant of All Gods.

The god slowly walked up the mountain. Standing still for a second, Markus decided to follow him.

Each step was heavier than the last. He wondered why that was, before throwing the thought out of his mind. It did not matter.

They stopped in the middle. Only now did he notice that his breath was ragged and his body was unable to move further. Perhaps the pressure was more than he had thought. He felt very little, either way.

It was only at this point did Tyr cast him a glance. “You aren’t half bad. I might just make something out of you after all.”

Markus silently gazed back.

“Humans can be both disappointing and awe-inspiring. That much is clear. Sadly, though, humans are often more disappointing than amazing. But with this new world, much safer, much… brighter, things should have been different. Instead, most still fail to impress. Especially some of these arrivals. Most of them, to be exact. Perhaps I had thought that they are destined for greatness. I was wrong to think such. And, to be fair, those expectations were baseless. After all, just one brief look at the majority of people will leave you depressed. I do hope that you aren’t like others, though. You took over my son’s body, so I have high expectations. Be one of the stars that shine through the skies, my new son.”

Markus kept his silence.

“Hmmm… why aren’t you speaking? And your hands are shaking. Why?”

Markus calmly said. “What do you think? My dear godly father?”

“You’re scared? Angry? Just tell me. I’ll listen. No need for this song and dance.”

“HA. OF COURSE, YOU WOULD LISTEN. BUT WOULD YOU DO A FUCKING THING ABOUT IT? WOULD YOU? TELL-”

The god made a gesture. Markus could not make a sound.

“Ahh… now you’re resorting to this. Just shut your mouth for a second. Don’t be hysterical. I’ve seen a bunch of Earthlings like that already. It gets tiresome pretty fast. Is there even a point to that? Anyway, have you calmed down?”

Markus found himself capable of speech again. “Well, calm down I did. OF COURSE, I’d calm down, wouldn’t I? It’s such a relaxing situation, isn’t it?”

Tyr narrowed his eyes. “Stop.”

“And if I wouldn’t?”

His gaze deadpan, the god said. “I’d just shut you up again. We can do this the whole day.”

Markus snorted, but he did stop.

“Good.”

“I DON’T NEED YOUR APPROVAL YOU PIECE-”

Tyr sighed. “Don’t be immature.”

An hour of silence passed by. Tyr snapped his fingers. The god looked at the man. The man stared back.

Markus said. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why am I here? Just…” his voice cracked, “just tell me.”

“Not possible.” Tyr was silent for a brief moment. “I’m not at liberty to divulge such matters, nor do I have the power to influence the decision.”

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Markus closed his eyes. “I had a life, you know. It was quite perfect. A loving, wealthy family, a bunch of good friends, a fiancé, and a bright future. It was a good life overall. I was determined to follow a stable path. It might not be the thing most dream of, but it was my dream. To live a happy, content life. Now… now what? Can yo-you just send me back? You are a god, aren’t you? Have pity on me. Please…”

“I’ve told you it’s not in my control.”

“Hah.”

“The past is the past. It’s pointless to think about what is not in your control. Focus on the present. Focus on what you can do.”

He said, deathly calm. “Don’t lecture me.”

“No one can improve without setbacks and hardship. No one can become truly great without pain. Don’t be stupid. That life is truly gone. It doesn’t matter anymore. Try to turn your suffering into strength. Do that, and surprise me and the others.”

Markus’ voice was deadly calm. “You think I care? You think I care about power and fortune. About your opinion of me? Did I not tell you to not lecture me? Did you not listen to what I said about my past life?”

“All men have ambition. Most either bury it deep within or simply lack the guts, the will, or the ability to realize it. Are you one of those, then?”

Markus sneered. “Consider me that then.”

“You’ve been given the tools required for greatness. But it seems like you won’t put them to good use. You’d rather be a bystander when you can do more, to do good, to be better. All because of a mediocre life that shouldn’t even matter.”

“Say that again-”

“And what?”

“And one day I’d climb up the heavens and kill you.”

The god replied blandly. “Oh. Very funny. Or it would’ve been if it wasn’t so overused. You are not the first, nor will you be the last. I’ll take back what I said about you being different. You’re just a lucky nobody. I have to check the mountain after this. Something must be wrong. Or perhaps it’s your stupidity that helped your climb. Anyhow, I’ll stop bothering you. Not really a point in helping someone like you. You’ll probably end up in Hel by yourself soon enough. My only regret is Bjarni. Even that worthless son of mine might have done better. Oh well.”

Markus couldn’t say anything, but his face burned with rage.

“Any last words to me, by the way?”

“Is there any way for me to go back?”

“Ah, still thinking about that. As I said, I’ve got no idea about that.”

“Ah. Of course, something like that would not be privy to a useless god like you.”

He shrugged. “Well, why would I even care about matters so below me? It’s just a few cretins jumping around in the end. Even the most bored gods wouldn’t care about that.”

“Keep your lies. Either way, you dogs just wait for me. I’ll be there one day.”

“One day. We all know how that is for you humans. You cannot even handle your emotions. Stop all the big talk. Or the small, now that I think about it.”

Markus couldn’t talk once more.

“Before we part ways, I’ll give you my advice. Don’t lose yourself in your emotions. Something so simple, yet mortals fail to grasp. Also, out of pity, I won’t strip you of your powers. I wonder if you’d even be able to tap into it,” there was a hint of derision in his voice. He smiled. “Either way, farewell. Let’s hope we don’t run into each other again.”

Markus let out a soundless scream. His eyes were red with fury, his lip red with blood.

Then, blackness ensued.

----------------------------------------

He woke up, gasping and panting. Subconsciously, he licked his lips, the metallic taste of blood gracing his tongue. He closed his eyes. He breathed in and out. After what seemed like an eternity, he opened his eyes and brought himself up.

“Nightmare?”

Markus glanced to his side, where Rafn was looking at him with concern. He thought of that ‘dream’, his teeth clenching. “You could say so. At least, I wouldn’t want to experience that ever again.”

“Ah,” he said. An awkward silence hung between them. Markus said. “It’s not that bad, though. I learned a few things from the... dream.”

Inwardly he sneered. A few things indeed.

“That’s good to hear. Dreams can give one knowledge. I’ve learnt from them myself, too. Anyway, we’ll raid soon. We’ve captured two fishermen. They were a bit too ambitious with their trip, so now they’re on board. Well... one of them is. Let’s just say the other could not think with his head, so we sent him to a suitable location. It seems there is a small village two hours away.”

“So, what are we doing?”

“What else but to raid it? It’s relatively isolated, the nearest settlement being days away. The village barely houses a hundred people, most of whom cannot fight. It’s free pickings, and we do need some stuff. And the men probably need to stretch their legs a bit.”

“Oh. That’s interesting.”

Rafn looked at the younger man thoughtfully. “I almost forgot that this is your first time. You ought to remember that we are just pirates.”

“I know. I’ve just woken up, that’s it.”

“Heh.” Rafn gave him a teasing smile. “Have any second thoughts about the job?”

Markus thought about all that has happened, about his past and the future. “No.”

“That’s what I thought.” The older man slapped him on the back. “Even if you puke a bit, no one would mind. You’re new. Just don’t puke on the others. Or me, for that matter.”

He shrugged.

“Prepare yourself.” He then said, reassuringly. “Once we are there, just stick with me. You’ll be fine.”

“Really? You’re quite old.”

A man near them laughed. “Don’t underestimate the Raven. That’s all I’ve got for you.”

Rafn only smiled.

“If you say so…” Markus said.

“Ha. Trust me on this. Your jaw will be on the ground in no time.”

Markus was then left to his own devices, as the others went around, fixing and prepping. He just had to prepare himself, which was quite nice. Dawn was coming, and as he gazed at the rising sun, he wondered about the myths. The sun and the moon were supposed to be gods, meant to die to monsters. He’d pay to see them mauled, along with the others, of course. What kind of blood do gods have, he pondered. Do they even bleed at all?

One day, though, he would answer that question. That was a promise.

He glanced at the men around him, all talking and shouting and bantering. They were supposed to be real. He should drop the ‘supposed’. They are real. He should start thinking as such. To be perfectly honest, he should’ve seen it sooner. Rafn seemed real enough. This world was too real, he had thought so upon arriving.

At that thought, he felt a little sad.

He shook his head. This was not the time to mope. He was to get ready. Get the axe, the armour, the shield, all of that stuff you need for crushing people. It was grim, certainly, to prepare yourself for piracy. Either way, though, it is what it is. His kindness wouldn’t change their fate, though it would spell unnecessary misery on himself.

In all honesty, though, he just did not care that much. If he didn’t toughen himself, it would be impossible to do what he wanted. He did have a difficult dream - that’s putting it lightly - to realize, after all.

As for his future victims. Well, he was helping them escape the arbitrary rule of unworthy gods, was he not? Not to mention, some of them genuinely believe in those fuckers in the sky. That requires rectifying, rectifying that is best done with the sweet embrace of death.