2

Shadows of Vindis

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James retched out into the dark swirling waters below, the contents of his stomach emptying into the black sea. He could never get used to the rocking of the deck. After spitting out the rest of the bile left in his mouth, James turned his attention back to the rest of the ship. Harald stood there with a practice sword, his stance still and unwavering at the movements of the sea.

“Are you ready to try again?” the veteran asked.

James grimaced as he stood back up, his own practice sword rising towards Harald. “How do you even get used to the rocking?” He called out.

“It’s quite simple. You just practice like this,” Harald answered with a strike, his sword swinging towards James. The blond man barely blocked, his muscles burning with effort as he fought the veteran off. “Eventually, you’ll balance yourself without realizing it,” Harald added.

“You make it sound easy!” James grunted as he forced the veteran away, his practice sword flashing towards Harald.

“Nothing is ever easy,” Harald simply responded. He parried James’ attack with ease, his sword’s tip smacking the young clan leader in the hand. James winced and instinctively pulled back, almost dropping his weapon in the process.

“That’s a dirty trick, y’know,” James complained.

“Your enemies won’t care,” Harald countered. “You need to learn how to defend yourself. Going on the offensive won’t always work out. There’ll be a day you find that out the hard way.” The veteran moved in for the offensive once more, his weapon swinging down on James.

James quickly moved to counterattack, his sword blocking the strike. He shifted his weapon right after the impact, catching Harald’s sword with his guard. With a quick motion, James pushed the veteran’s sword to the side, leaving him open. In that second of vulnerability, James thrusted his sword towards Harald’s chest, hoping to take the winning blow.

Harald simply stepped to the side, his hands letting go of his weapon to grab at James’ blade. Without any warning, the veteran pulled on James’ practice sword. James stumbled forward in surprise, losing his footing almost immediately. He fell to the ground right after, his vision blurred as he tried to process what had happened.

“I win,” Harald suddenly called down on him. James blinked and looked up at the veteran, his training sword now in the older man’s hands.

“You couldn’t let me have that one?” James groaned as he stood up, his knees wobbling from the constant lurching of the deck. He and Harald had been training non-stop since their departure from Yorktown. It was to build muscle and prepare him for the tax of another rune he was planning to imprint on his body. The Power Strike casting was costly, requiring the user to build up weight and muscle just to handle it. Despite training for months, James still felt like he needed to prepare for it.

Still, while training during the sea journey was James’ idea, he couldn’t help but feel as if this was the veteran’s idea of payback for all those missed training sessions.

“It’ll be a hot day in Helheim before you win a fight against me,” Harald commented as he walked off. James wanted to remark back at him, but felt his body shudder at the feeling of the rocky deck. He quickly rushed to the railing of the longship, dispensing his stomach’s contents into the sea. “Let’s call our training off for now. If we keep going in your state, you’ll die of dehydration before we even reach the docks,” Harald called back.

James didn’t complain. Instead, he simply nodded and gave a thumbs up, his throat too sore to talk back at the veteran. Once he got his stomach settled, James looked at the rest of the crew, who had all worked around him and Harald as they trained.

Everyone else seemed in good spirits, unaffected by the ship’s movements and James’ training session. James sighed and slid down to the deck, his hand gripping onto the railing nearby. Everyone else seemed to do fine with the movements of the deck. Well, everyone but Lilith. The savage woman from Aldren was currently gripping onto the mast for dear life, her feet doing their best to gain purchase. James was about to comment a word of advice to the berserker, but felt his stomach lurch once more. He held in more bile, swallowing the urge to vomit out the rest of his food.

‘Five months in Valenfrost and you still get seasick,’ Faust commented.

“Motion sickness is something I’ve been dealing with for years,” James refuted in a burp.

‘The gods who sent you here must’ve loved irony,’ Faust laughed.

James chuckled, resting his head back. “My summoning was unplanned, no gods involved,” he muttered.

‘Do you still believe that yourself?’ Faust asked.

James shook his head. “There’s nothing to delve into. I was brought here by accident and the dreams I had resulted from it,” James explained. He hadn’t had those strange personal dreams in months, something that had given him much respite. James had concluded that they resulted from his body and mind coming to terms with being in a foreign world. “Nothing more than strange dreams.”

“What are you on about?” A voice came from his right. James opened his eyes to Seamus, who was giving him a weird look.

“Just conversing with Faust,” James revealed. “Aren’t you supposed to help your friend with getting used to the ship?”

“She’ll be fine. I already gave her my advice. All I can do is wait till she gets the hang of it.” Seamus sighed before he took a seat next to James. “Saw your training with Harald. It seems like you’re getting the hang of it.”

“The fighting or the lack of sea-sickness?” James asked with a raised eyebrow.

Seamus chuckled. “Both really. Your skill has improved these past months. In no time, you’ll surpass Harald.”

“I doubt it,” James sighed. “He’s holding back. I can feel it every time we spar now.” He couldn’t forget that look in the veteran’s eyes every time they clashed. It was like Harald was hesitating with every strike. Despite this, the veteran had kicked James’ ass in every sparring match.

“I think I know what you mean,” Seamus muttered. “Still, I don’t think he’s holding back. At least, not intentionally. From what I see, it looks like he’s recalling something.”

“Recalling something?” James asked. He turned to Seamus, whose gaze was fixed on the cloudy sky.

The younger man shook his head, a smile coming over his lips. “It’s nothing. Just a thought.” He waved off the question like it was nothing. James decided not to press any further.

“So,” Seamus started, changing the topic. “Are you doing well with Faust? Nothing strange happening?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. We were just conversing about some random crap before you came,” James answered.

Seamus nodded, staying quiet for a few seconds. After some silence, he spoke out again. “What’s it like to have a spirit in your body months later?” Seamus asked.

James raised an eyebrow. He recognized Seamus’ question as the same one he had asked months back during the walk they had taken to Harald’s hut. Back then, his answer was that it felt like Faust’s presence was always there, overshadowing him as he tried to focus on reality. An unnatural feeling that he couldn’t explain fully. Now, however, James had a slightly different answer.

“It feels sorta the same as last time, but different. Faust feels like an extension of my mind in a way. It’s weird. I’ve come to accept him as a part of me and I had even forgotten about getting rid of him.” James remembered back to that week. Back when he had to deal with Faust for the first time. During that time, he had wanted nothing but to get rid of Faust, to heal the lingering wound he prevented. The next following months, however, changed that. The spirit and the young man had grown on each other. To where they considered each other close.

“Our bond grew. Strange huh?” James chuckled. “Faust and I kept each other alive. We fought together, bled together, and shared memories.” He frowned. James brought his hand to his chest. “But since that ‘incident’. It feels as if our link is deteriorating. Slipping almost,” he muttered. James looked to Seamus, whose features had dimmed.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to mention it,” James quickly apologized.

“It’s alright.” Seamus raised his hands, accompanying it with a small smile. “I’ve come to accept that inevitability.” He said. “I’ve lost people before. Even if it isn’t easy, I’ll pull through. I always have.” Seamus gave a reassuring smile to James. “Just promise me you won’t pull off anything stupid. Dying people tend to do that.”

James nodded. “Of course,” He agreed. “Definitely won’t try to attempt an idea that just might end with us getting mugged.” That got a chuckle out of Seamus.

After their brief laugh, Seamus spoke up once more. “You never told me much about your past life. What was it like?”

James blinked at the question. “You mean Earth?”

“No, not your world. Past life. I’ve heard bits and pieces from Dahlia about Earth. I heard nothing about your past life beyond the day you were summoned here.” Seamus explained.

James pondered the question, his mind going back to his life. “It was pretty boring, actually. I worked a lot. Dealt with assholes, a lot. I had a couple of friends then, a girlfriend even. I certainly didn’t fight anyone to the death, nor risked my life for people I led. It was a simple living, I guess. But I didn’t really enjoy it. It was like I was stuck in place.” James looked down at his right hand, which was callused from the months he had spent training and fighting.

“It was a peaceful life, then?” Seamus asked.

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“Yeah.”

“Would you ever go back, given the chance?”

James frowned. He clenched his hands tightly, recalling all the pain and hardship he had felt in Valenfrost. The death he had experienced and the bodies he had seen. The man he had killed in defense of his people. James could still hear the screams of Gryff, who had desperately tried to pry James’ fingers from his skull. The young man had suffered nightmares from that experience, resulting in many sleepless nights and visions of the knight’s corpse whenever the young man had gone outside. James had eventually learned to overcome those terrors and scarring images, but every once in a while, his mind would go back to that moment. His left arm still tingled from that memory.

Still, James couldn’t bring himself to answer Seamus’ question. Outside of the horrors he had witnessed, James didn’t regret coming to Valenfrost. He clenched his jaw, feeling his emotions urge him to speak the truth.

“No,” he muttered softly.

Seamus blinked. “You wouldn’t go back? Even if it meant leaving all this chaos and death behind?”

“Of course not,” James reiterated. “I’ve done so much here, made allies and friends, saved lives and an entire island. Even if I am facing eventual death, I feel more alive here than I do on Earth.”

“You truly are a strange man,” Seamus muttered, his eyebrow raising.

James laughed. “Does it really surprise you anymore?”

“Fair.” Seamus smiled. “Do you think there are others out there like you? Those from different worlds?” He added.

James pondered for a bit. “Maybe. It’s kind of hard to think that I’m the only otherworlder in Azura. Surely there have to be others before me, right?”

Seamus shrugged. “I’m not really sure. There are stories of heroes coming from foreign worlds, but those are old, dating back to the age of myths. It could be that those stories were about men who came from far-away lands such as Kasan or Areno.”

“Makes sense,” James agreed. He cupped his chin in thought, his thoughts running possibilities.

‘If there was another otherworlder, would they know about me? If there are others. What would their purpose be?’

James let out a breath of frustration.

‘It’s stupid to think that there’s an Earthling out there. You are the anomaly idiot,’ he mentally chastised himself. ‘Even if there is someone from Earth out there, would you ever know?’

The ship suddenly lurched, the deck shifting beneath James. His eyes widened at the sudden movement, his hands moving to grip at the longship’s railing. Seamus did the same, his hands grabbing onto a tied down crate. Both men held for dear life, Draugr’s Haunt shifting as salt water sprayed onto the deck. Soon enough, the movements slowed to an unnatural calm. James raised his head from the ground, his gaze focusing on Liam, the steerer for the ship.

“What the hell happened? Did we run into rocks?!” James yelled out.

“No! We shouldn’t have! There’s not supposed to be rocks in this part of the sea!” Liam called back.

James furrowed his brow before he moved to stand up. “Dimitri?” The clan leader called out, his eyes searching the deck. He blinked, realizing that a fog had rolled in during the trip. It was thickening slowly, making it harder to see.

“Harald?” James called. There was silence for a moment. Then, footsteps.

“Everyone! Get your weapons now! Silverheads!” Harald’s voice shouted out, just as the deck shifted once more.

“Did he say silverhead?” James asked in confusion.

‘The fish we eat back at Yorktown?’

James recalled the tasty dish, which was commonly served at the small walk-in eateries by the harbor. From what he remembered, silverheads were a unique fish that got their names from the shiny plates attached to their blind heads. He knew they had teeth and short claw-arms for prey, but he had always thought them to fear human contact, just like any normal fish.

The longship tilted to the side, making James and Seamus stumble. More water sprayed onto the deck, followed by the scurrying of many little things. James focused through the fog. His eyes widened as he saw many silverheads skitter their way to the young man. Their arms were shaped like mantis claws, hooking onto the wooden deck. Their sizes differed, with some at a foot’s length. James watched as their silver-plated heads opened to four separate mandibles, their cries heard out throughout the deck.

“What the fuck?!” James cursed involuntarily, his hand quickly reaching for his side. One of the silverheads screeched at James, before it made a dash towards the blond man. James reacted quickly, kicking the fish away as he unsheathed his sword. “Seamus! Stick close!”

Seamus nodded at James’ order, his feet wavering as they made steps towards James.

The silverheads all scurried around, their mandibles making popping sounds as their blind heads looked around. James stared in fascination at the creatures. Never did he expect for things to get as strange as this. The silverheads all clicked and popped, the sounds they were making echoing all throughout the fog. Finally, they turned their attention to James and Seamus, who stared at the creatures in confusion.

The smaller ones were the first to charge, their movements fast as they scurried. James moved to action. He kicked away one, before using his sword to stab a silverhead through. It squirmed in his hold, its teeth gnashing while it clawed blindly. James swung his sword around, forcing the creature off his blade and into the awaiting sea.

He turned his attention to the rest of the silverheads, which were near him. The popping sounds they emitted were unbearable; the annoying sounds striking a nerve in James.

“Seamus, you good?” James glanced at the other man, who was finishing off a silverhead that got past James.

“I’ll be alright! Just don’t lose your focus!” Seamus called back. James nodded, turning his attention to the fog.

“Starboard side! They’re coming in from the starboard!” The shouts of Harald echoed throughout the fog, giving a warning on where the creatures were coming from.

Just as the shouts reached James, a silverhead’s screech sounded out from his right. He turned to the sound before seeing the damned fish scurry out to him. It was roughly the size of a dog, slobbering mandibles clicking as it dragged itself to James. The young man stared at the thing, his right hand clenching tightly to his sword. The silverhead leapt at James at frightening speed, nearly catching him off guard. Still, James kept his cool and remembered his training.

‘Keep calm and catch them off guard.’

He sidestepped the silverhead, making it stumble on the deck. James raised his sword before he thrusted the tip into the back of the thing’s head, right behind the silverplate. The short sword slid in with ease, piercing through the silverhead’s mouth. James forced the blade out, his focus now on the scurrying sound behind him.

He turned quickly, slashing his sword at the next of the silverheads, which had tried to take a bite at him. The short sword made a cut in the creature’s belly, an act that should’ve gutted it. Unfortunately, the wound was shallow, and the silverhead backed off before James could swing back at it. The young man didn’t stop there. He rushed the silverhead, his sword slashing at its head. The blade contacted the hard plate on its head, bouncing off without so much as a scratch. James clicked his tongue and tried to back off. The silverhead wasn’t going to let him, however. It screeched and leapt at James, who raised his boot in desperation. He kicked at the fish, his steel toe crushing the silverhead’s open mandibles.

James watched the creature fly back to the deck, where it was exposed. He didn’t squander this moment. James yelled as he forced his sword into the silverhead’s side, pinning it to the deck. The silverhead screeched and squirmed, its claws moving to dig into the young man’s leg, drawing a yell from him.

“Little bastard!” Without hesitation, James raised his boot and stomped on the creature’s head. The thing would recoil from the hit, its silver-plated head dampening the blow. James didn’t care, though. He continued to stomp at the silverhead’ skull, putting all his weight into it. His steel clad boot soon broke through the tough plate, splattering fish brains all over the deck.

James sighed in relief, pulling his sword out. His ears perked up at the sounds of shouts and yells, accompanied by what sounded like Lilith yelling out in anger.

“What the hell is…?”

“James, behind you!” Seamus’ voice yelled out.

James turned quickly, only to be met with an airborne silverhead the size of a small wolf. It tackled him, the act knocking the sword out of James’ hand. The young man gritted his teeth as he felt his back hit the deck. He struggled with the silverhead, using his knees to prop it up. The silverhead tried to go for a bite at James’ head, but was interrupted by James’ left. As it gnawed at the forearm, James quickly went for the back of his belt. The blond man’s right hand produced a small hand ax, which he used to hack at the silverhead’s belly. After a couple of chops, the creature’s body gave in. Fish guts spilt all over James’ torso, the silverhead soon going limp in his hold.

“James! Are you alive?!” Seamus’ voice called out.

James sighed. “I’m alive,” He groaned before he forced the dead fish off of him. He stood up, his right hand holding his left forearm.

“Oh, shit. Your arm…” Seamus muttered, his hand pointed at James’ torn sleeve.

“I’m fine,” the young clan leader revealed. He pulled back the sleeve, revealing a metal brace he was wearing.

“You wear a brace?”

“Of course. I learned my lesson the last time I fought with wild animals.” James explained. He wiped down his ax with his tunic before tucking it back in its sheath at the back of his belt.

“Is that all of them?” he asked as he picked up his fallen sword. The fog was still thick, but James couldn’t hear any sounds of fighting or scuttling.

“I think so. I took on a couple while you were fighting. No more came after that. As for everyone else…” Seamus turned to the mist, squinting at it. “Harald! Lilith! Bjorn! Are you still alive?” There was silence at first. Then a voice called out.

“We’re fine,” Harald’s voice called back.

“The silverheads stopped coming. I think we passed through a breeding ground,” Bjorn’s voice sounded out after.

James stepped through the fog, barely seeing the figures of everyone on board. “Everyone! Sound off!” He called out. Slowly, each of the crew called out to the ship. No one had perished or had gotten severely injured. James sighed a breath of relief. They had gotten through this conflict with little difficulty.

“Where’s Lilith?” Seamus asked, the other man stepping cautiously through the fog. James furrowed his brow. The berserker was one of the few who didn’t sound out through the mist.

“Where is she?” James mumbled, his eyes doing their best to peer through the fog. As he focused, James could feel the familiar heat of magic surrounding his eyes.

The magic James was using was the same he and Faust used back during their fight with the wolves in Yorktown. After some months of practice, he had gotten used to the feeling and had even learned how to use it as of late. It was an ability that had fostered from the bond with Faust. Even though their bond was breaking, James could still harness the spirit’s power. Which was what he was doing now.

James’ glowing eyes pierced through the fog before settling on the savage woman in question. He blinked in surprise, the heat around his eyes slowly going away.

“What is it? Did you find her?” Seamus asked.

“Yeah…”

“Is she alright?”

“Uh…” James trailed off, his hand gesturing towards the direction where he saw the red-haired berserker. The mist was already dissipating, slowly restoring visibility on the ship. James watched as Seamus neared the direction James gestured to. Both men watched as Lilith’s form came into view, her figure sitting down on the deck.

“Oh,” was all Seamus could say as he got a better look. Lilith was unharmed. At least it looked that way. It was hard to see under all the guts she was covered in. The berserker was surrounded by dead silverheads, most of them being the size of the ones James fought. She was currently gnawing at a piece of one of the dead fishes, using her ax to hold it up to her mouth. Lilith didn’t seem to mind the stench, although she was covered in black and blue guts. She looked at James and Seamus, growling as she took another bite of the raw fish meat.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Seamus muttered behind James.

“Right with you.”

Both James and Seamus spent the rest of the day letting out their built up bile.