Orn could hear the soft voice of a young woman, teasing about the edges of his consciousness. “Orn, wake up, my love.”

He opened his eyes to see Briga’s smiling face, and couldn’t help but smile back at her, as he took in her ocean-green eyes, long blonde hair, and blue and yellow floral wreath. Her presence filled the room with a fragrance, mixing the invigorating salty spray of the ocean with a meadow of flowers. She sat beside him, on the edge of the bed in his room, stroking his hair as she gazed at him in adoration.

“Have you been there all night?” Orn asked her in a croaky voice, thick with sleep.

“No. I went and spoke with my family in the grove, and then I went to several places answering prayers, and lastly, I attended the kitchen with your mother while she made breakfast. I helped.” The Goddess sounded rather proud of herself.

Orn gave her a bemused smile, as he asked, “Mother is teaching you to cook?”

“I know how to cook! Are you going to get up now? I think it’s time you did,” she said with a haughty look.

“No. I thought I would lie here a while and enjoy the view.” Orn responded, and flashed her a winsome smile.

She struggled to keep her mouth straight, but couldn’t keep the smile from her eyes as she gave his arm a playful slap. “You’re such a- You know, I still owe you for carousing at the Grand Ducal Palace, and for the way you ordered me around in Paqurineva.”

“I never ordered you to do anything. Besides, I was right. You couldn’t help, so you should stay where it is safe.”

“Sweetie, I was safe. Ordinary weapons cannot harm me, and I could have just left the area. So, no need to worry about me.” She kissed his cheek.

“You may say that, but I shall worry about you just the same.”

At that, Briga gave a muffled little squeal as she hugged him and nuzzled into his neck. As she was doing this, Venna poked her head into Orn’s room and cleared her throat. “Are you two kids coming to breakfast? It’ll get cold.”

Briga sighed, disentangled herself from Orn, and rolled off the bed onto her feet. She held an expectant hand behind her.

Orn swung his feet out of the bed and took Briga’s hand, allowing her to lead him to the kitchen, past his mother.

After Briga and Orn had passed Venna, the tall, blonde woman flicked her drying cloth at Orn’s backside to hurry him along, before following.

He flashed her a look of annoyance, to which Venna cocked an eyebrow and smirked in response.

“What are we eating, Mother?” Orn asked.

“Porridge with berries, honey and fermented cream.”

“What’s ‘fermented’?”

Briga answered Orn. “It’s an Azahri process that alters milk into a creamy consistency with a sour taste. Shufi taught Venna how to make it. It is really quite delicious, and goes well with porridge and sweet things. It also mixes well with gravy, and savoury dishes.”

“Are you having some?”

“I do not need to eat. But, sure, why not?” said Briga, as she laughed.

The three of them sat around the table, joining Vylder, who was already halfway through his breakfast.

“Good of you to rejoin the living, son,” quipped Vylder, between mouthfuls of porridge.

Orn’s father was a huge, muscular, blue-eyed man with greying, long black hair, and a beard with several braids.

In response, Orn made a sarcastic, laughing face. Vylder flashed his son a grin as he feinted towards him. The sudden move caused Orn to flinch reflexively. This reaction caused Vylder’s smile to broaden.

“Really, Father? Such a child.” Orn cast his eyes skyward, shaking his head in mock resignation.

“This child can still put you over his knee. Something I think is well overdue,” came Vylder’s retort, accompanied by a smug smile.

Briga and Venna cast each other amused looks as they smiled behind their hands. Briga stood, and took Vylder’s bowl, refilling it. She then served Venna, Orn, and finally made a small bowl for herself.

“Is it all right if I go to Bosberg to see Erik today?” Orn asked his parents, less for permission than to ascertain if they had a need of him.

“Actually, since it’s Serday tomorrow, I planned for us all to go with Selti tomorrow. Speaking of which, she should be here soon. I thought you could train with her, so I can observe both of your techniques. I don’t want you two picking up any bad habits.”

“But what about Briga? What is she supposed to do?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, Orn. I have plenty of things I need to do. I will see you in the afternoon.”

They continued eating in silence for a short while before Orn asked, “Mother, when I received my sword from Everrin, he told me that you were given Myin’s blessing. How come you never use it?”

Vylder tried to warn him by gently kicking him under the table, but was too late. Venna carefully placed the bowl down. Stony faced, she stared at the table for several moments, and in a measured tone, replied, “I don’t need to use it. Nor do I want to use it.”

Orn was about to press her further. However, this time, he felt Briga’s foot pressing firmly on his. At this signal, he realised he should let the matter drop.

Venna took in a shuddering breath, followed by several deep breaths. She then picked up her bowl and continued eating.

Orn cast a questioning glance at his father. Vylder met his gaze for a moment, and gave a barely perceptible shake of his head, and went back to finishing his porridge. Orn sighed and let the matter drop.

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“Hello,” said the red-haired Selti as she entered the Avdlak cottage.

Orn and his family wished her a good morning.

“Have you eaten yet, dear?” Venna asked, seeming to have recovered her mood somewhat.

“Yes, thank you. Sorgi made eggs with bacon and toasted bread.”

“Good, you’ll need your energy. Have you just about finished, Orn?”

“Not yet.”

“Once you finish, clean up, wash the plates and meet Selti and me out back, all right?”

Orn was about to roll his eyes, and then stopped himself, opting instead to respond with, “Yes, Mother.”

Venna paused and narrowed her eyes at him, as though doing so would let her perceive any sarcasm. She then reluctantly looked away from him as she sat Selti down, and braided her hair. She then moved toward the door to the yard, with Selti in tow.

After about a half hour, Orn made his way outside to the sounds of wooden swords clacking and thudding against wooden shields with the undertone of an intermittent tink-tink-tink-tink of his father hammering something over an anvil in the forge.

Orn approached the pair practising in the yard. He could tell that his mother was going easy to allow Selti to flow through the katas that Venna had taught her. The same training she had put him through to enable him to unleash combinations instinctively. This training had saved his life several times now. In battle, to hesitate is to die.

Venna saw him out of the corner of her eye and held up her hand to halt Selti, and gave a stern, “Hold!”

To Orn, she said, “Good, you’re here. I want you to spar with Selti so I can see her properly.”

Orn picked up a shield and wooden sword, hefting them and rolling his shoulders. He hopped from side to side, then stretched his neck, before finally adopting a fighting stance before Selti.

Selti met his gaze. Her green eyes were wide with equal parts apprehension and steely determination. Orn smirked slightly, as he began circling her, gradually edging closer.

The moment he came within her range, Selti unleashed a flurry of strikes with her shield and sword. She alternated between going for Orn’s legs and trying to thrust over the top of his shield. This assault put Orn on the defensive.

His eyes widened as the smirk slid from his face, impressed by how quickly Selti had learnt. She was unleashing different combinations back to back, probing for an opening. Remembering a lesson Thayn had taught him, he smiled and attempted to step on her foot. However, he glanced down a split second before he moved, a telegraph Selti noticed, pulling her foot back.

She launched diagonally past Orn’s shield as he attempted to bash her with it. As she passed him, she spun right and stopped her wooden sword a fraction of an inch from his neck. Her chest heaving from exertion, a smile of triumph on her face.

Venna pursed her lips and nodded slightly. “Not bad, Selti. Orn, you telegraphed. You need to remember your peripherals. Now again!”

The training session continued for another several hours, as Venna swapped in occasionally to allow one or the other of her pupils some respite. Venna finally said, “I think that’s enough for today. Let’s have some lunch.” She turned her head and called out, “VYLDER! LUNCH!”

The tinking sound of metal striking metal stopped, and after a few moments, Vylder emerged from the forge. A broad smile creased his face. “How goes the training?” he asked, conversationally.

“They’re both progressing. We will make competent warriors out of them yet,” replied Venna archly.

“Hey!” Orn exclaimed indignantly.

“You have a long way to go, my son, and a lot to learn. You have a good foundation, but you are sloppy, reckless and, at times, predictable,” critiqued Venna.

Orn was about to protest when she cut him off. “Now I know you have that other thing to work on, but you need to dedicate time to your martial skills, son. Your instincts and reflexes will save your life far more than any blast of wind or water ever could. Never forget that, and…”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t roll my eyes,” Orn interjected.

“You were thinking about it. Mother always knows.” Venna smiled archly, and they all laughed as they headed back inside.

After lunch, Vylder returned to his forge, Selti headed back home to do chores and pack for the morning, and Orn set about completing tasks as his mother set them, while she prepared their dinner.

Orn enjoyed the simplicity of the house chores, something he used to complain about. The journey to rescue his father lent him an appreciation for simple things taken for granted. The day wore on, as the Avdlaks made their home ready for their absence. They planned to stay in Jarl Sigtrin Soderholm’s keep over the weekend.

In the afternoon, Briga had returned and joined them for dinner. As they sat around the dinner table, the topic drifted to Erik’s upcoming birthday.

“I thought we might celebrate it while we are in Bosberg,” offered Venna. “That way we’re all together, with Erik, Selti, Brenda. We’ll need to tell Selti’s brother, Sorgi. He might not come with us, but I am sure he will be there by Starsday.”

Vylder added, “I won’t be travelling with you tomorrow morning. I have a few things I need to finish. I’ll be there in the afternoon.”

Venna threw her husband a quizzical look, which was returned with a flash of Vylder’s eyes and a furrow of his brows. Venna’s brows furrowed slightly before they raised again, as a realisation occurred to her, causing her to smile knowingly.

While that was occurring, Briga and Orn looked from Venna to Vylder and back to Venna again. They then looked at each other.

Briga wore an expression of confoundment, to which Orn merely smiled as he said, “You’ll get used to that. They can have full conversations without speaking a single word. Better to just ignore it, as you’ll only frustrate yourself. Erik and I gave up trying to figure out their eyebrow language years ago.”

Venna didn’t even look at him as she flung a crust of bread at Orn, a small smile on her face.

Orn deftly caught it and popped it into his mouth with a childish grin as he chewed, causing them all to erupt into laughter.

Venna eventually said, “So it will be Orn, Selti, Briga, maybe Sorgi, and I then. All right, everyone finished eating? Good. Orn, can you and Briga tidy up while I prepare what we’ll need for tomorrow?”

“Yes, Mother,” replied Orn, doing his best to keep his face and tone neutral, although still receiving a warning look from Venna.

Briga looked down to hide her smile. Regardless of her being a deity, she didn’t mind that Orn’s mother treated her as she did her own children. In fact, it gladdened her. She felt welcome as a member of this family she was soon to join, as Orn would soon join hers.

After they had tidied up the kitchen, and Venna had organised what they would need for their travel tomorrow, the four of them moved to the front room. There they sat, talking about nothing in particular, and enjoying each other’s company. The discussion eventually gravitated to the morning’s travel.

“Why did you not just ask me, Mother? I could take us there in an instant,” asked Briga.

“I suppose you could, at that. But I would never ask that of you, it’s unseemly, and I would prefer not to turn my future daughter into a glorified mode of transportation. Besides, the journey is not a long one, and can be quite enjoyable,” replied Venna.

Briga smiled. Despite Briga’s Godhood, and the fact she had existed for over eight centuries, she was, by her own kind’s standards, an adolescent, and as such, ofttimes thought and behaved as one.

From watching the Avdlaks interact, Briga had become enamoured of the easy humour and gentle gibes that this family directed towards her and one another. It was, for her, a novel and amusing method of displaying familial affection. One she was unaccustomed to, and thus, enjoyed experiencing.

“What’s wrong, dear?” Vylder asked Briga, shaking her from her reverie.

“Hm? Oh, nothing. Everything is well.” She replied with a dreamy smile.

“Well, we were just about to turn in. Will you be staying with us?” asked Venna.

“Is that all right?” Briga asked.

“Of course. You are always welcome,” replied Vylder, seconded by Venna’s warm smile.

“Then yes, I believe I will. Thank you.”

“Orn, make up Erik’s bed for her,” said Vylder.

“Um, Father, Briga doesn’t sleep,” said Orn in a soft voice.

“Oh, right, well… Wait, so what will you do all night?” asked Vylder.

“I will watch him sleep,” replied Briga.

“Are you sure you won’t get restless doing that for seven hours or so?”

“Father!” Orn exclaimed, plaintively.

“What? I don’t want her to get bored,” replied Vylder defensively.

“It’s all right. I enjoy being close to him, and seeing him sleep brings me peace. Besides, what are hours measured against centuries?” said Briga.

“That’s a… hm, I see your point,” said Vylder.

“I am sure they will figure out what it is they need to figure out, dear. Let us to our beds. I want to rise and be on the road early,” said Venna, with a small smile.