Brenna's words met with a pained wince; even spoken aloud, the idea of their mission seemed like an insurmountable task. They had only just managed to arrive here, and now they stood before an impossible gauntlet, its path paved with death in more ways than one could fathom.
At least the thought of her friend claiming Sar's hand as a lecherous trophy was a small comfort. If only those who claimed her too nice could see her now.
"It is good warning," she affirmed with an approving nod, her misgivings about their task still strung tightly in her jaw.
Once they had packed up their belongings, taking only what was needed in the
event of disaster they made their way towards the trio of waiting
Nordwiir.
<"Ah! So glad to witness common sense in action,"> Sar crowed, waiting alongside his kaldabatur, whose nostrils flared and loudly huffed, peppering the air with condensation. The man turned to one of his companions, an unusually petite young woman with frost-touched hair who held a sneer that felt more like home to Skad.
<"Such little faith you held, Yrsa.">
<"We will take your mount,"> Skad spoke, her abruptness cutting off whatever conversation was attempting to welcome their decision, already affixing their equipment to the tremendous stinking beast.
Without further pause, Yrsa was already on the move, rejecting Sar as a riding companion and leaving him with the grizzled blonde brute atop the third boar. The man was a wall of flesh, his disinterested demeanour marked by deep scars of battle that changed the shape of his face.
<"By all means,"> Sar offered cheerfully, as if he had a choice in the matter,
<"Vigi is a great shield against the wind."> The man mountain called Vigi had grunted in return, seeming to have more in common with his kaldabatur than with them.
Once she had clambered onto their mount, Skad offered her maimed hand to Brenna in assistance before immediately realising the error in showing her weakness. A glance upwards caught Sar's lingering stare, and in the dark their eyes met.
He smiled.
---
They had ridden north for hours, night eventually succumbing to the onslaught of morning, which slowly began to illuminate the sparse tundra plains. To Skad, it was home, filling her heart with a sense of comfort in familiarity with one hand and stoking the flames of bitter guilt with the other.
However, to Brenna's fresh eyes, it was barren tundra grasslands—endless plains that stretched forever, caught in the half-thaw between the changing seasons. The victors were the patchy brown clusters of grass emerging from the slowly melting ice and snow. Not a single tree was to be found in their eyeline, exposing them to the razor winds that slashed at them head-on. If the
Nordenfiir had wished for something more to look at, her only choice was the scattered rock and stone that littered the earth.
Yrsa had gone ahead, having long disappeared into the horizon before the sun had risen, leaving the rest of them lagging behind in quiet pursuit. Every once in a while, Skad glanced over her shoulder as if checking that Brenna was still there.
The further north they went, the more winter had reclaimed the land, once more claiming dominion over the grass. Much of northern Eyjarnar remained under the grasp of snow for the entire year, and only the southern parts of the islands truly managed to break free for summer. The island of Tinda remained encased in an eternal winter, a relief they had not landed there.
By midday, the plains had begun to shift, the flatness of the land giving way to ridges that provided their boars extra labour. On the horizon crested the peaks of mountains, seeming to slowly rise out of the ground like jagged stone corpses as they approached.
Skad had pondered their location throughout the journey, eventually deducing by elimination that they had landed on the shores of Dalnum and were approaching the settlement of Hof.
It had been a correct assessment as they finally met a small grove of trees. For Brenna, it would have been laughable to call it a forest, but it was true for the Nordwiir, who lacked such things. Woodlands were sacred places, which Skad had helpfully explained over her shoulder on the way; to cut down a tree without permission was a death sentence. Such was the consequence of resource scarcity and one of the main drivers for her people's southern raids.
By late afternoon, they had arrived at what was confirmed by sight to be Hof, one of the larger established
settlements scattered around the Lost Isles. Flanked by mountains, it was a cluster of buildings whose walls were made of rough-cut flagstones in earthen dams that sheltered them from the wind. The flat roofs that sought to keep out the damp comprised of flat slate in various states of disrepair, resulting from being forced to endure the elements.
Skad caught sight of two figures observing their approach, one likely to be Yrsa given the presence of her kaldabatur and the other an unknown that held untamed red hair that was nigh impossible to miss. The flame-headed woman swiftly disappeared down stone steps and into the dwellings, filling the one-eyed Nordwiir with a sense of omen that never seemed to leave.
At no point had they stopped to eat in their travels, and while that was not unusual for Skad's kind, she was becoming increasingly aware of the no-doubt famished Nordenfiir at her back. Once they had come to a stop, her torso twisted around to regard her friend.
"We are here," she spoke, stating the obvious, choosing to use the
common tongue to keep the others from eavesdropping.
"You must being hungry, yes?"
After asking her question, she slid off the frost boar, stretching out stiff limbs that ached from riding. It had been far too long, making the woman feel out of touch with Nordwiir life, as if she wasn't already alienated enough.
"I cannot feeling my arse."
