The village was burning when I awakened. I was on a ship, surrounded by massive warriors clad in thick battle plates; I could tell by the not-so gentle rocking, alongside the briny smell of the sea and the distant roars of waves. My hands and feet were bound. I couldn’t move. They’d tied me to a post of some kind, probably the ship’s mast. My mouth was not bound, however. But I held back from speaking or making any sound in general. I glanced around and found the boy right next to me. He was bound as well, but he was unconscious.

I turned my gaze to the distance, where the village I’d lived in for nearly my whole life burned – its ashes drifting into the sky, where the wind sent it scattering northwards. Was everyone there dead? No, that would just be wasteful. The goal of any raid, as my father taught me, was to capture thralls to be sacrificed in the name of the gods. This wasn’t the only ship; those who survived were likely bound and tied upon the other vessels. Glory was only the second reason; the third reason was plunder. Furs, sacks of grain, and bundles of dried meat were always sought after.

A distant and quiet voice in my head wondered out loud if the other children made it out of there alive and unbound. Though, it seemed unlikely.

I’d failed the Eagle’s challenge by choosing to try and impress the Wolf. I failed and disappointed the God of Knowledge and Magic. I uttered a short prayer and asked for forgiveness and hoped the Eagle heard me. Strangely, the Wolf’s challenge was still there. Of course, the only way I’d fail the challenge was that if I died or if something or someone killed the man in crimson armor and it wasn’t me.

I wasn’t angry at the warriors for raiding my village of birth. They won by the Trial of Steel and the Gods smiled upon them. My neighbors, those who died fighting, at least, were surely welcomed into the halls of the Wolf. Those who survived and escaped would garner the Whale’s attention. Those who somehow talked their way out of it – unlikely – would earn the gaze of the Serpent. I didn’t think any of my neighbors impressed the Eagle, but I was sure a few of them did something to impress the God of Magic and Knowledge.

“The little devil bitch is awake,” One of the warriors spoke – an old man, gruff and hoarse. His words were followed by a chorus of laughter. I glanced behind me and beheld a giant in crimson armor. It was him, their leader. But he wasn’t the one who spoke. No, I knew his voice – dark and infernal. This wasn’t it. “She’s a killer – this one. Be careful with her, lads.”

The leader grunted; his voice was like the breaking of rock and the grinding of metal. The warriors, meanwhile, continued laughing. Whether or not they were genuinely happy or they truly were laughing at my expense hardly mattered. One of the men approached me, a lecherous look in his yellowed eyes, and grabbed my face. I snarled and bit into his hand. His flesh tasted strange and his skin was hard. Still, my bite was strong enough to pierce through both. He screamed and recoiled and sent a backhand right at me, knocking loose a few of my teeth. His hand bled, but the mark I’d left was small at best. “You little bitch!”

The man blurred towards me and wrapped his fingers around my throat and squeezed. The others continued laughing around us. That was, of course, until their leader stood up, loomed over us, and gently flicked my assailant’s forehead, sending him hurling to the back of the ship. He nearly fell into the water if the others hadn’t caught him. The man was awake, but dazed. Their leader’s finger left a red, hissing mark on his forehead. The ship grew silent and the giant man in crimson armor spoke calmly, “You will not lay another hand on the child, Hvitserk. If you do, I will rip your ribs from your chest. The same goes for the rest of you; she is my prize and mine alone.”

Strange. And here I thought I’d be another sacrifice, for sure. It turns out, I was about to become this man’s plaything. I’d rip his cock off with my teeth before I let anything happen. I won’t be anyone’s toy; better to be sacrificed to the gods and become one with them than to live many years as a slave.

“And the boy?” It was the same old man from before. But I couldn’t see him no matter which way I turned. Was he directly behind me, then? I couldn’t turn my head that far on account of the ropes that bound me and the fact that my vision was rather blurry after that backhand. “What purpose does he serve, my lord?”

I listened intently. Their leader sat back down and grumbled, “He is under my protection as well. The girl will require a measuring post. He will make do.”

No one tried anything with me after that. Hvitserk, however, continued glaring at me with a hateful, burning gaze, but he was afraid of their leader and that was all he could do, in truth. So, I stuck my tongue out at him. I wanted to spit on him, but I was too far away and I’d just hit someone else if I tried. I was under their leader’s protection – for some reason. But I didn’t think he’d protect me if I went off and spat on one of the warriors who served under him. So, I did nothing and simply leaned my head against the wooden post that I was bound to. Escape seemed impossible. I wasn’t strong enough to break free of the rope by brute force and I didn’t have my knives with me.

There was nothing else to do – for now, at least.

“What is your name, whelp?” The leader suddenly asked. I knew he was talking to me. The weight of his presence was immense. Now, I wasn’t so sure if he would’ve actually died even if the boy somehow slipped through his guard and stabbed him in the neck. Or, maybe not, unless the gods blessed him with a skin of iron, which was entirely possible, given his standing.

“Valka Ragnarsdottir,” I growled out. My voice was hoarse and my throat was dry. I wasn’t in any position to be speaking. Now that I thought of it, I hadn’t had a single gulp of water in an entire day. There was no water anywhere near me. My lips were dry and cracked and my senses were beginning to dim from thirst. I needed to drink something soon or I’d just pass out. “I need water.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“You certainly do not lack in spirit; I can see why the Gods favor you,” The leader chuckled. The sound of his voice was wholly unpleasant. The ship fell silent and all the crewmen glanced away, afraid. They were all warriors, weren’t they? “Alvor, give her some water. I’d hate for my prize to die of dehydration.”

One of the warriors grunted and nodded and pulled out a waterskin. He then walked towards me, held my chin up, and poured water right into my mouth. I drank as much as I could. It was cool and surprisingly clean, and had a pleasant taste behind it. After a moment, the man stopped pouring and went back to rowing. I breathed in and sighed with relief. Well, at least I wouldn’t be dying of thirst anytime soon. “Thanks.”

I didn’t know who I was directing my gratitude to, but I said it all the same.

The ship rocked side to side. Above us, dark and thick clouds loomed, accompanied by streaks and arcs of lightning. Rain soon began falling, tiny droplets at first, which then quickly turned into a veritable storm. The ship soon begun leaping and jumping over the salty waters. The cheer aboard the longship returned as the men howled and roared upon the open waters. The stomped their feet in rhythm. Their leader joined them; his boots were heavier and came with metallic clanks. Thunderous booms echoed overhead. The gods was looking down at us. I could feel it deep in my bones.

And so, I howled as well.

There were fifteen ships in total. One capsized and fell to the bottom of the sea, though some of the crewmen and the slaves were saved; the rest died. Two more were destroyed when Leviathans emerged from the dark depths of the waters and just ate them whole, before diving back down, leaving no survivors. The warriors did not lament the deaths of their comrades, however, and for good reason. To die during a storm was a great honor; it was a good death and those who died would find themselves in the Whale’s embrace. Those who were devoured by the Leviathans were... well... they were just unlucky.

We reached Blood Hall after an entire day of sailing. The Gods were kind enough not to sink the ship I was on and so I muttered a short prayer of thanks to them. The city that appeared in the distance was a hundred times larger than my village I’d ever seen, which wasn’t saying much since I’d only ever seen one village. I noted quickly that most of the structures, the huts and longhouses, were made from mammoth and leviathan bones, stacked and held together by logs and plywood. There were a few buildings that towered over the rest, colossal longhouses built upon great mounds of earth and stone. The largest structure was a crimson tower that overlooked the entire city – the Blood Hall, I figured it must’ve been. It was early in the morning. So, I didn’t see a lot of people walking about, though there were already plenty of them. At the very center of the village was a massive sacrificial altar, devoted to the Gods, a rising mound with a flattened top. Four pillars stood and loomed over it, an effigy of the gods atop each one – the Wolf, the Whale, the Serpent, and the Eagle. At the center of the altar was a bed bloody of skulls, bones, and weapons, where the souls of the sacrifices are offered up to the Gods.

A crowd of people gathered on the shore, cheering and howling as the longships neared.

I glanced beside me. The boy had not awakened once during the journey, not even when great storms and powerful winds struck the ships. It hardly mattered that he was still asleep when their leader stood up, barked a few orders that I could not understand and suddenly we were both yanked from our binds and thrown right into the waters. I thrashed and squirmed in the cold and salty water, thinking this was how I’d die.

But then I felt my feet hit the sandy bottom and realized that I was, in fact, overreacting. I stood up and found the water only reached my chin. I wasn’t about to drown anytime soon. I then grabbed the still-sleeping boy and flipped him on his back. The warriors howled as they leapt off the ship and began striding forward. No one bothered to pull us into the city. I glanced around, hoping for a chance to escape, but there were too many warriors. And the only way I could feasibly escape was by swimming my way out, which was a good way to freeze to death.

Gritting my teeth, I walked forward, dragging the boy behind me as I did. I held him by his hair. Our binds had been undone; the warriors of Blood Hall knew for a fact that I could not run away. So, I trudged towards the famed and feared city upon the shore. The man in the crimson armor walked ahead of me. The waters around him seemed to hiss and boil at his presence. And it was only when I’d rubbed my eyes and my vision cleared that I realized the ‘stones’ I had thought were below my feet, underwater, were, in fact, skulls – thousands upon thousands of skulls. My father’s distant voice echoed in my head; he’d once spoken of a place called the Bay of Bones. This must’ve been it.

Or it might’ve been some other place.

“SPILL THEIR BLOOD FOR THE GODS!” The captured people from our village, a few of them I recognized, suddenly charged the warriors of Blood Hall. Where they’d somehow gotten a hold of the weapons they now bore was beyond me. Almost instantly, several warriors died, their blood staining the waters red. This quickly garnered the attention of the rest of Blood Hall. And then, whatever semblance of order was there disappeared into a haze of violence and death. I grinned. And I trudged on, despite everything. My only goal was the shoreline, for now.

I glanced all around me. My neighbors from the village were putting up a decent fight, one worthy of the Gods’ attention. They would die; there was no question about that. There were only twenty of them at best, against the entirety of Blood Hall. They were all going to die. But they would surely earn the embrace of the Wolf for their last stand. I was happy for them. A part of me wished to join in the bloody slaughter, young as I was, but a greater part of me just wanted to sleep and rest. I could join the bosom of the Gods later.

Luckily, I reached the shoreline without too much issue and laid the boy on the sand. He was alive, at least. I wheezed and coughed, salt filling my mouth. I made sure not to heave and regurgitate all the water I’d already drunk; that would be a waste. I breathed in and forced myself up. The people on the shoreline ignored us. I saw men, women, and children alike; most of them wore light armor and furs. Most of them didn’t even think to look at me. Their gazes were fixed upon the bloody carnage in the water.

Quest Received!

Kill As Many Blood Hall Warriors As You Can Before the Battle Ends, Reward: 1 Mutation per kill (Wolf)

I grabbed a rock from underneath me and charged the nearest person.

The nearest person just so happened to be a pregnant girl in leather armor. She had a sword and a dagger on her waist. She was a warrior. She and her child would be good offerings for the Wolf. I did not roar or do anything to make myself known. When her gaze finally turned to me, she only had time to widen her eyes and part her lips before the rock I carried was slammed right into her face.

“BLOOD FOR THE GODS!”