The gods had summoned him, and there was no turning back to the life he had before. Aros was a man with a mission.
A Wolf with a destiny.
Before the sun rose, Aros and his brothers, Helgi and Magnus left the city walls to venture out into the wilderness. Under the dark sky, they threw on their cloaks and headed for the canals. The scent of smoke clung to the cool air, and mist hovered around them as rain gathered in the clouds. It would be miserable travel, but the end result was worth it.
It was time to alert their king of the dangers to come, and the battle brewing right outside of their territory.
There would be no taking sides during this dark time. Wolves would have to unite with their former enemies, and make allies against the coming storm. He just hoped the king would heed his advice, lest they be doomed.
Across the red river and to Skal they’d go—with or without the aid of their sovereign.
Amalia needed him, more than she knew, and he would be there for her even if she believed he betrayed her.
On the contrary, he cared for her more than anyone outside of his family.
He loved her, and would do anything to make sure she was safe.
One day, she’d understand.
Until then, he’d continue to fight in the shadows, and follow the guidance of the gods. The weight of the world, and its fate, rested on his shoulders.
As they walked the slick, stone road outside of the walls, Aros paused, glancing over his shoulder. Magnus and Helgi followed suit, and they beheld a cloaked figure standing a few yards behind them.
The sky was still dark, with clouds tightly-knit and heavy with the coming rain. In the shadows and fog the figure stood in the center of the road, staring back at them.
Medium height, and thin, he couldn’t make out their face, but a wisp of bright golden hair flew free with the cool breeze.
Aros narrowed his eyes.
“Eostre?”
With a sigh, she stepped forward, lowering her hood to reveal wild, blonde hair and bright blue eyes.
Magnus and Helgi exchanged looks. “The harlot?”
She frowned. “Aye, lads,” she said. “What of it? I’m as much of a Wolf as the three of you sods.”
Aros scratched the back of his neck, cheeks filling with heat as he looked to his brothers. He was certain they believed he’d left his virginity back in Eostre’s room back at the pleasure house, but that was further from the truth than he was prepared to reveal.
His heart belonged to one other, and it was not the beautiful Wolf standing before he and his brothers. They’d kissed, and that was the end of it. How could he tell them he’d drank too much and fallen asleep in her bed only to be haunted by nightmares?
Eostre had been gracious enough to not chide him for his lack of virility during their evening together, and had wished him well.
But, now, she followed him, and he was unsure of why.
“What are you doing here, Eostre?” Aros asked.
She shrugged. “I’m coming with you. You said you’d take me away from that horrid place.”
“Did you now?” Helgi said, crossing his arms over his broad chest, an even broader grin resting on his lips.
Clearing his throat, Aros approached her. “We are not going somewhere safe for women,” he said.
She scoffed. “What do you think I am? Yes, I chose the trade of flesh, but are not all Wolf women trained in the art of battle? Are we not all shield maidens by birth?”
He straightened himself and peered down at her. He was right. Not one man, woman, or child went without training in any of the Wolf villages and kingdoms.
“Aye,” he said. “But, we are leaving Fjord.”
“And, going where?” Eostre asked, her hands on her hips. She wore a dark, gray cloak, a belted tunic, and carried a dagger at her hip.
He sighed. “Skal.”
Her eyes brightened. “By Eris’ blade, what an adventure.” She pushed past him and walked ahead. “Then, follow me. I know the way.”
Aros stared at her in disbelief. She had to know of the dangerous creatures and magic of Skal. She had to have heard the tales, yet, she charged ahead, ready for battle.
Magnus chuckled. “What are you waiting for? You heard the harlot.”
She shot him a glare over her shoulder. “Name’s Eostre,” she said, drawing the dagger at her hip quicker than the eye could see, and pointed it toward Magnus’ nose. “Any other name comes out of your fat mouth, and I’ll have your nose on a necklace.”
Magnus’ smile faded as he peered down at the blade. He nodded, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.
“All right then,” Aros said, pulling his pack tighter across his back. He couldn’t help but grin at seeing someone put Magnus in his place. “Lead the way, Eostre.”