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One With The Enemy
Chapter 1: Halfdan

Chapter 1: Halfdan

Halfdan sat in the snow, looking at his arms and body, where he noticed the little hair on his arms shoot upright. A shiver flowed through him, up from his head and down to his toes. A searing pain shot through his head, causing him to gasp in pain, and as soon as it happened, it had gone.

"Sorry, what did you say, Frida?" questioned Halfdan curiously, "Why am I in the middle of nowhere in the snow?" Confused, Frida crouched down next to him with a mystified look on her face,

"Young sir, you ran off from training after your friends were laughing at you for some reason," replied Frida puzzled as to why he was so clueless. Halfdan picked himself up out of the snow and shook himself off.

"I do not remember that at all; I need to go home and lie down. I have horrible pain in my head, stomach and leg. I must have fallen over when running." Halfdan winced out as he began hobbling back to his home, Dalhurst.

"Yes, sir, here I'll help you; maybe you hurt it when training with your friends? I know how harsh they can be on you sometimes," assured Frida whilst putting her arm around him, holstering him up, allowing him to walk more accessible.

"Thank you, Frida; I don't know what I would do without you. A friend is a unique way to describe them; they all hate that I'm so weak. Even after all this training, I can barely even compete with them in a fight."

"No, not at all, sir," remarked Frida, "You have not been training for long at all, only a few months at that. Those boys have trained ever since they could walk whilst you always had your head in a book or out in the wilderness playing with the animals." Halfdan smiled and agreed as they arrived at the front gates to the grand castle of Dalhurst, Ardiham Castle.

Entering through the gates, the familiar smell of the market square air entered his nose, giving Halfdan a warm and cosy feeling; he was home. Walking more stable and by himself now, Halfdan hobbled to the central courtyard in the upper court of the castle past the central majority of the hectic mid-day crowds of people looking to buy today's food.

"Your mother has been worrying about you, sir", warned Frida, "try to get to her as quickly as possible; you know what she is like when your father leaves."

"I will don't worry, Frida. Is she up in her room?"

"Yes, sir, do you want me to prepare some clothes more suitable clothes for you? You are still in your training clothes." queried Frida. Halfdan turned to face her,

"You have done more than enough, thank you. I'll inform my mother of your help and see that you get extra pay and a warm meal tonight."

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"T- thank you so much, sir, but I do not do it for those things; those are unnecessary," replied Frida, obviously flattered.

"It's all right; you deserve it!" countered Halfdan, "If I can not be a strong warrior leader, I want to be strong in other ways, such as being one with my people."

"I understand, sir; you will be strong in many more ways; there is more to a leader than just his physical strength", Frida expressed and was repaid by a thankful smile by Halfdan as he walked away towards his mother's chambers.

Halfdan knocked at his mother's grand bedroom doors, "Can I come in, mother?" he questioned, waiting at the entrance. He heard a muffled yes through the thick wooden doors and slowly opened them due to how heavy they were.

"Hello, Mother, is everything okay?"

"Where have you been, boy? I heard you ran away from training." interrogated his mother aggressively. Taken back by the harsh response, he stepped back towards the door.

"I don't know; I don't even remember what happened. One moment I was practising my skills with an axe, and the next, I was sitting upright knee deep in snow with a searing pain throughout my body," he explained, trying to express his confusion.

"Stupid boy, no wonder your father was so quickly willing to let you stay behind while boys your age went off to raid the coastal villages in Wintervale. Stepping back towards the shadows to hide a tear rolling down his cheek, he tried to compose himself before responding.

"Mother, I will go next year no matter what! I have been practising and training; I won't disappoint you or my father. His mother began to laugh to his face,

"You probably couldn't hold your own even if you were fighting children! It's amusing that you think you will one day be a great fighter like your father!"

"I don't want to be like my father; I don't want to be a warrior; there is more to life than fighting!" declared Halfdan defying his mother before quickly being reminded of his place in this conversation. She slowly rose from her bed and stalked over like an animal as tears continued to slide down Halfdans face.

"How dare you speak ill of your father; he built this castle from the ground up stone by stone, and together, he and I formed this great nation of Guron but then you came along, a pathetic weak child. It would be best if you had never been born," she screamed into his face showering him with spit. "Look at you now, crying and weeping like a child; your 4-year-old sister has more guts than you..."

Halfdan backed up to the doorway and quickly, without a word, darted outside, running with tears down his face and passing past armed guards, but most importantly, his so-called friends.

After rushing to his room in the grand castle, he slams the door and rushes over to his bed. Crashing onto the bed, he buried his face deep into the pillow and felt like he wanted to be swallowed up and disappear into the bed.

Why am I such a pathetic person!?

I'm the king's son; how can I be such a weakling!?

Soon the pillow below him was wet with tears making Halfdan reluctantly sit up and turn over to face the rest of his room. He looked through teary blurry eyes around his room and especially towards his own specially made axe, which he can barely even lift, his father's present for him as a child, and a present he plans to give his younger sister. Looking across to his left, he saw the mirror he usually uses to dress correctly in line with royalty when going to the banquets his father holds but this time, he saw someone completely different.

"Who are you?"

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