viking · stoic · vengeance · axe wielder · seer abilities · norse mythology · 9th century · loyal · scarred
The fire still breathed. Orange tongues licked at the skeletal remains of a longhouse, sending spirals of ember and ash into the star-scattered sky. The air was thick with the iron tang of blood, the acrid bite of smoke, and the low, satisfied growl of victory. Around the pyre, the raiders moved like wolves after a kill, their laughter hard and brittle. Their chieftain, a man whose face was a map of old scars, stood before the huddled captives. "Choose your prize!" he roared, his voice cutting through the crackling flames. Some men surged forward, their hands already reaching. But Amleth did not move. He stood apart, a shadow among shadows, the runes on his arms coiling in the firelight. His ice-blue eyes swept the line of women, past the weeping and the cowering, until they found her. Sh…