By the time we came down from our room, the woman was already sitting at a table waiting for us. She wore no cloak this time, but had the same scarred yet clean armor from the night before. It was silver plated with golden highlights, the crest of feathered wings across the chest. Something about the armor felt familiar, but I could not place it. She wore no helm, and let her black hair fall over her shoulders. Her eyes were hard, and her mouth seemed to be in a permanent scowl.

Trond huffed as we approached. “Does anyone in this city smile? At least the innkeeper tries to act happy.”

“Just let me do the talking,” I said.

We stood in front of the mercenary’s table. I crossed my arms and looked down at her. “We’re here.”

“I am not blind.” She took a drink from the mug in her hand.

“We must go to the thieves. We planned to leave Midgard with the money they stole from us. Without it, there is little hope for our clan. The sooner we get it, the better.”

“The sooner you get it, the more time you’ll have to lose it again before you leave. You think we can simply march into the thieves’ lair and take the gul back? We need to find them first.”

“You don’t know where they are?”

“No.”

“You told me you were tracking them.”

Trond put his hands on his hips. “Are you sure you’re not blind?”

“I have been tracking them,” the mercenary said, “but only for a day. It takes longer than that to find a thief group if they know what they’re doing, and these guys do.”

I sat in the seat across from her and leaned forward. “Tell me everything you know.”

“The group is called Prosperity. They use the corresponding rune as their mark. They believe that, as thieves, they can find better success together than individually, but make no mistake: they will cut each other’s throats if it gives them even a penny more. They are a collective, not a team.”

“I understand.”

“They implement hit-and-run tactics,” the mercenary said. “They’re small, so they can’t hold out for long if combat is involved. Given your concealed weapons, I trust at least the two of you know something about combat?”

I glared at her. “How did you know?”

“I trained myself to do that.”

“And being able to read runes?”

“It’s not an uncommon thing.”

“It is in some parts.”

“Maybe in the savage regions of Midgard where you’re from,” the mercenary said, “but not in most places.”

She continued. “The bonds of these thieves are easily broken. But when a heist is planned, no man is to be left behind. The thieves might steal from one another, but they will never betray each other to the city guard. If the guard finds their hideout, it’s all over. They’ve sworn a pact never to betray the location of their hideout to the guard.”

“Promises aren’t everything. One of them will betray Prosperity eventually.”

“I believe so, too, which is why I suspect they move their hideout regularly. Once a week, maybe.”

“Then how are we supposed to find them?”

“I followed that girl around all day yesterday,” the mercenary said. “The one who stole your money. I know her regular hangout spots, where she picks her scores, and where she hides after a hit. She didn’t work with a team, but it was only a day. It’s possible she works with larger groups, too. But yesterday looked too practiced and regular for her. That’s her daily routine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

“And we can track her to Prosperity’s current hideout?”

“It’s worth a shot.”

I nodded and stood from the table. “Then let’s find her.”

“It’s not that simple. I need to know I can trust you enough to turn my back to you.”

I paused for a moment. How could I prove to her I wouldn’t betray her? I’m sure betrayals like that were common in her line of work. Was there something I could give her that might earn her trust?

I extended my hand. “My name is Erik. I’m the Jarl of clan Ravengard, which lies a day’s drive West of here.”

The mercenary grasped my hand in a firm shake. “Hilda.”

“Do I not have the honor to know where you’re from?”

“I’m from everywhere. The branches of Yggdrasil are my home. I don’t claim to belong to any one place.”

“Everyone is from somewhere.”

“Then I am from Midgard.”

“Midgard’s a big place.”

“Indeed it is. Shall we go?”

“Of course.”

Hilda led the way out of the inn.

Trond came close to me and spoke low so Hilda could not hear. “I don’t know about her, Erik. She seems… strange.”

“She’s hiding something to be sure,” I said. “But it may be of no consequence.”

“Yet it might also be of dire consequence. I don’t like this.”

“Just keep your eye on her as you said.”

Ragvald looked over his shoulder. “I agree with Trond. She is not to be trusted. I sense a darkness within her.”

“Your friends are right, Jarl Erik,” Hilda said without turning around. “Trusting me is foolish.”

Her hearing our conversation surprised me at first, but then again, she was a mercenary. “What choice do I have?”

“You could find a way to earn back the gul you lost. Sell some of your equipment, or maybe offer a service.”

“The gul we lost is too significant to be made up by those means. We intend to leave Midgard. We need money for transport.”

“I remember. How much do you need to make up for your losses?”

Ragnvald cleared his throat. “After subtracting the cost of the inn for every night until an… appointment that we have, we’ll need at least 500 gul.”

Hilda blinked. “You’re right. That is significant. You didn’t think to bring backup funds, did you?”

“We have no backup funds,” I said. “Our village has little. We brought with us the majority of our treasury.”

“That’s it?”

“We’re one of the clans of Midgard. We don’t seek profit. We seek survival.”

Hilda shrugged. “I guess that sounds peaceful enough. Until you get attacked by something, of course.”

“Which is why we’ve come.”

“Is it? Looking for help? I could protect you. For a fee, of course.”

“I think we need a little more than what you can give.”

“Fine. But if you change your mind, I’ll likely still be here.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

We wandered the streets of Soemd. The sun rose in the sky, though the only evidence of this was the dim light shining through the dark gray clouds hiding the heavens above us. The streets were as crowded as before. Neither the oncoming rain nor the early hours of the morning deterred any of them. They had business, and they intended to see it through.

Hilda led us down an alley and quickened her pace. Ragnvald struggled to keep up.

I placed a hand on the old man’s shoulder. “You can turn back if you wish. I realize it’s likely a struggle for you to keep up with us.”

Ragnvald shook his head. “I’m fine. Go on ahead. Stay with the warrior. I’ll catch up when I can.”

“You sure you won’t get lost?”

“The gods will guide me.”

“If you say so.”

Ragnvald was a lune. I respected the gods, but he was disillusioned by them. They were masters of Yggdrasil and deserved worship, but they were not perfect. I wondered sometimes if Ragnvald’s “visions” were dreams or simply logical predictions. Whatever the case, he seemed to get by just fine. Almost 90 years, and he was still on his feet.

We emerged from the alley, but something seemed amiss. I glanced around. The people on the street paused and looked up at the sky, squinting through the dim light filtered through the storm clouds. Something rumbled, but it was not thunder.

A ship flew overhead, its hull plated with gold and silver, polished and reflective. It was trailed by two escort fighters as it slowly passed by.

The people on the streets grinned. Some cheered. Some dropped to their knees and prayed. Others scowled and turned away.

Hilda paid the ship no mind.

“Who is that?” I asked her.

Trond spun me around. His grin was wider than normal. “Have you not pieced it together? That’s one of the gods!”

“Tyr,” Hilda said. “That’s Tyr’s ship.”

“Tyr? The swordsman?” said Trond. “This can’t be real. He’s a legend!”

Hilda sighed. “Yes, his skills are legendary, especially his drinking. The gods don’t stop here for any reason other than to suit their own pleasures, you know. They’re not here to help us mortals. If that were the case, we’d all have eaten of the secret Fruit of Life.”

“Are you always so pessimistic? We’re in the same city as a god. Of course, he’s not perfect. But his heroic feats are legendary. I’ve heard his blade is still inside Fenrir’s jaw.”

Hilda ignored him. “Keep up. We need to move quickly if we are to find the girl.”

We walked further. As we strode down the road, I glanced over my shoulder and found the hunched-over form of Ragnvald far behind, hobbling through the crowd. A part of me pitied him then, and I considered going back to help him. But the other part of me was glad to finally be rid of his nay-saying and his prophecies of doom and destruction. As he said, he’d find his way, whether he was guided by the gods or asked the local guard for directions.

We turned a corner and found ourselves in a bustling marketplace. Vendors set up along both sides of the street. The crowds were much thicker here. Land speeders and other vehicles struggled to get through. They beeped at the market goers, but it was no use.

Hilda stopped and glanced around the marketplace. “This is one of her streets. This is a perfect opportunity for her. Loud, chaotic, and plenty of pockets and satchels to snatch from. She’s here.”

“How can you see her in a crowd this thick?” Trond asked. “The people won’t stop moving.”

“I don’t see her, but I know she wouldn’t pass this up.”

She glanced around a little longer. I followed her example and looked into the crowd, trying to shut out the distractions around me: shouting vendors, the savory aroma of roasted meat, the buzz of conversation, the warm air thick with humidity. But my senses were too used to the quiet village of Ravengard. Everything was new. My mind couldn’t stop focusing on the wrong things. I breathed in the pleasant smell of roasted meat, I found the colors exciting, and the conversations pulled at my ears.

“We should split up,” Hilda said over the noise. “If you see anyone wearing the Prosperity rune, stay on them and don’t be noticed. Follow them discreetly, and don’t try to find me or one another. Leave a trail if you can.”

“Best of luck,” I said.

Hilda nodded. “And you.”

Trond groaned and said something about no one having a sense of humor, but he was cut off by the buzz of the crowd as I strode away and began my search.

It was difficult to move without running into anyone. I’d never been in a place so packed with others. I hoped I wouldn’t lose the thief if I spotted her, but it wouldn’t be easy. She’d know what she was doing. I wouldn’t. I was sure I’d be spotted, but that wouldn’t stop me from trying. I could only hope Hilda found her instead.

But if Hilda found the thief, how could I know she’d make good on her word and return the gul stolen from me? I only had faith that she would, but she was a mercenary. Faith and trust didn’t go far with her. I’d have to find the thief first, or Trond. That was our best hope.

It was fortunate that I towered over most of the crowd. Otherwise, I probably wouldn’t have spotted the small thief weaving through the people like it was an art. She had ditched the cloak in favor of street clothes that blended in with the crowd. She wore a sleeveless, hooded tunic, and an armband with the Prosperity rune. Anyone who didn’t know to look for the rune would have mistaken her for just another market attendee.

She glanced in my direction, and I averted my gaze. I didn’t see her face well, which would likely make things difficult. But the armband was enough to go on for now. I moved toward where I’d last seen her in the crowd. Some of the people cleared and revealed where she’d been, but she wasn’t there anymore. I furrowed my brow and found a vendor nearby selling seeds of some kind. They weren’t too expensive. I bought a small pouch and began sprinkling them on the ground as I went, one little pinch at a time. It wasn’t much, but the seeds were dark against the light ground. I hoped it’d be enough for Hilda to pick up. Trond, I had no doubt, would miss it.

There she was again, moving further away from me. She slipped through the crowd with ease, walking at a normal pace. I struggled to get through. My large form was not built for navigating packed areas. But I needed to move faster. If I kept this pace up, I’d lose her before long.

I pushed through the crowd as best I could, apologizing as I went. I guessed I was close to the thief’s pace, but probably didn’t match it yet. I moved even faster, then looked up, hoping to Asgard I hadn’t lost her.

The thief had escaped the marketplace and was running through the street.

“By the blood of…”

I was more aggressive now in pushing through the crowd. I had stopped apologizing as I moved as fast as I could. I bumped into an unhappy, shorter man, and the pouch of seeds were knocked clean out of my hand. There went my trail. I ignored the man’s curses and moved further down the street.

Finally clear of the crowd, I sprinted forward to where I’d last seen the thief. There, she slipped into an alleyway. No time to find Hilda and Trond to make sure they followed me. We had no communication devices. We hadn’t need of them in clan Ravengard, and we hadn’t thought of needing them for our journey, as I assumed we’d be together at all times. I finally understood the usefulness of personal communication devices at that moment.

I dived into the alley as the thief dashed around a corner to the left. I followed, but the thief was far faster than I. The distance between us grew. I pressed on, though I found it hard to breathe. The air was thick and seemed to get stuck in my throat. It smelled strongly of rain. Something rumbled above, and it was not starship engines this time.

I turned another corner, and the thief was gone. I punched the nearest steel wall. My knuckles throbbed, but I payed them no mind. I’d lost our target, and now, it would take that much longer to find our gul. By the time we collected our money, it could be too late. The giants might lay waste to Ravengard, and Trond and I wouldn’t be there to protect them. What a Jarl I’d become.

I returned to the marketplace, and Trond raced out of the crowd to meet me. “Brother! Hilda picked up your trail, but it went cold. Where is she? Where’s the thief?”

“Gone.”

“Gone? What do you mean?”

Hilda appeared behind Trond. “He means he lost her. She was too fast. Or maybe he was just too slow.”

“I am strong, not swift. She was small. She slipped through the crowd with no trouble.”

Trond lightly hit my belly. “What’ve I told you about your appetite?”

“They’ll move their hideout immediately,” Hilda said. “There’s no chance of finding them at their current location now. We’ll have to wait until we have a new lead.”

“I’m sorry. I tried.”

“I don’t know why I trusted you. You have no experience in this field. This was going to be an open and shut job. But I can’t get paid until I’ve caught the leader of Prosperity, and you’ve gone and delayed that.”

I tightened my fists. “It was not my intent. I lost, too. I don’t know if we’ll be able to leave Midgard now.”

Hilda huffed. “I’ll keep looking for Prosperity, and if I find them, then I might still need you. The more warriors to take on a thieves’ guild, the better, even if you lack urban experience. But you are not to help me look for the guild, understood?”

“You cannot tell me what I can and cannot do,” I said. “I’m a jarl.”

“Not here. In one of the kingdoms, you’re just another nobody. Get used to it.”

I bit back another reply. She wasn’t worth the effort. “We’ll be at the inn.”

“I’ll come find you if I need you.”

Hilda strode past Trond and I, and we marched forward.

“Don’t let her get to you,” Trond said. “I know you tried.”

“Tried or not, I failed.”

“Even so, you’re not a nobody.”

“I am here.”

Trond wisely decided to drop the matter. “What’s our next move? We’re not seriously just going to wait for Hilda to summon us, are we?”

“Of course not,” I said. “She’s a bounty hunter. She’s only in it for the money, even if that means our money. We can’t take her at her word. We know who has our gul, and we know how to find them. We’ll restart our search for Prosperity tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? But they’re going to move now. Why not look for them while they’re vulnerable?”

“I want them to get comfortable again. Once they’re settled in their new location, they’ll think themselves safe, and that will be their downfall. We’ll have to track another of their guild, though. The girl knows my face. She’ll be looking out for us.”

Trond nodded. “I see. Tomorrow it is, then.”

“Yes.”

As we made our way back to the inn, we ran into Ragnvald, who made his way up the street to catch up with us. He leaned on his staff as we approached. “What have I missed?”

Thank you for reading chapter 3 of Ravengard!

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By the time the walls of Soemd were in view, the sun had already begun to sink. Its golden light was cast across Midgard, creating long shadows on the ground. The speeder raced towards the towering gates, where two squads of heavily armored soldiers stood on either side. At the tops of the walls, soldiers looked down. Guns were mounted along the edge, aimed below. A long line of speeders and carts stretched toward the open gates as the soldiers checked each person’s cargo and identification.

Trond glanced at me. “You don’t happen to have a Soemd ID, do you?”

“No.”

“This might take a while, then.”

“Potentially.”

The line lasted a while, but it was finally our turn. One of the soldiers marched over to our land speeder.

Trond flashed him a grin. “Good evening.”

The soldier nodded. “Identification, please?”

“I’m sorry, but we’re not from Soemd.”

“From which kingdom do you hail?”

“None. We’re clansmen.”

The faintest sign of a sneer appeared on his face. “You’ll allow us to search your vehicle and your persons?”

Trond looked at me.

“Of course,” I said. “We’ve nothing to hide.”

“Step out of the speeder, please.”

Trond, Ragnvald and I did as we were told. The soldiers searched us with scanners. They found the pistols Trond and I carried, but didn’t say a word about them. Then the soldiers searching the land speeder opened the trunk and found our plasma rifles.

“What’s this?” the captain of the squad asked.

“Defensive measures,” I said. “We’re trying to find help in defending our clan against some giants who attacked us. I wanted to be sure we remained safe on our journey.”

“Personal weapons such as knives and handguns are permitted within the walls of Soemd, but not weapons of war. I’m afraid we’ll have to seize these.”

I furrowed my brow as the soldiers began collecting the rifles. “Get your hands off of our things.”

The captain lifted an eyebrow. “These cannot be allowed. We don’t know what your intentions are with them.”

“I’ve just told you. They’re for defense against the giants.”

“And you expect me to take you at your word? We can’t act solely on trust in the kingdoms, clansman. There are rules which must be followed.”

“I am no mere clansman,” I said. “I am the Jarl of Ravengard.”

The soldiers behind the captain suppressed chuckles.

“The law applies to all,” the captain said. “Even jarls.”

The soldiers continued the seizure of our weapons. I watched closely, but did not protest any more. Ravengard didn’t have many weapons of war. We mostly relied on axes and swords to cut down beasts when the need arose. We had a handful of plasma rifles in the clan hall, but nothing more than that. This just meant we were down two more rifles when the giants returned. I hoped that this journey would be worth at least those weapons.

The soldiers finished their search, and the captain allowed us to be on our way. Trond drove us through the large gates, and we found ourselves made small by the sheer scale of Soemd.

When I first entered the gates, I thought there could be no marvel in all of Yggdrasil that should inspire awe like Soemd. I have later found that I was wrong, but I hadn’t seen anything like the kingdom before. Their buildings were made of iron and steel instead of wood, many even highlighted with gold. The sun reflected off of the structures brightly. I blinked through the sudden light. It was almost as though the city itself was radiant, and in a way, that was the case.

The streets were busy. I’d never seen so many in one place. People milled about, going from one building to another. Vendors beside the streets called out to those passing by, selling fruit, gadgets, tools, and other things. Musicians lined the streets as well, singing joyfully and playing whatever they had on hand.

I looked at Trond to see his reaction. He occasionally looked up to take in as much of the city as he could, but he had to focus on his driving. Too many people moving around and crossing the street. I’m sure it was difficult for him to keep from running any over.

I looked back at Ragnvald. Even an old fool such as he would be impressed with such a sight. But instead of looking up in awe, Ragnvald’s head was bowed, and his eyes were closed. He muttered under his breath. A prayer to the gods. I sighed, but I couldn’t help but wonder what it was he asked for. Likely insight into the future. I wondered if anything had changed in his predictions after the seizure of our rifles.

Trond drove slowly through the city. The constant activity around us was distracting, but he managed to stay focused and drive carefully through the crowds.

“Where to first?” Trond asked.

“The palace. We should talk to King Agnar. Then, if he denies our help—“

“When he denies our help,” Ragnvald said.

“—we’ll find transport to Nidavellir.”

Trond nodded. “A sound plan. Just one question: where is the palace?”

He turned a corner, and the question was answered.

At the end of the road before us stood a massive building covered in more gold than any of the other structures in the city. Columns of white stone stood at the front. They had to be fifteen feet in diameter. Stairs led up to the main entrance, narrowing in as they went higher. Two statues made of the same white stone as the pillars stood on either side of the stairs in the shape of broad, armored soldiers, one holding a large rifle and the other with a battle ax. They stood tall with their heads held high, their armor making them seem more muscled than they probably were, though that’s not to say I doubted their physique.

Posted on the stairs were soldiers nearly identical to the statues, all wearing armor as white as the stone. Capes flowed behind them, each with an emblem of a sword and a farmers pitchfork crossing one another and a bright eye in front of them. As Trond, Ragnvald and I ascended the stairs, the soldiers stood perfectly still. I almost thought they were statues themselves, but they couldn’t be. The palace was too valuable to be guarded by inanimate objects.

The massive doors to the palace were shielded from the sun by a roof high overhead held up by the stone pillars. To the side of the doors was a booth, where a man with a short, ornamented beard worked at a computer screen, scrolling through data and punching in new entries for something. I didn’t know what it was exactly he worked on. I didn’t understand the inner workings of kingdoms, nor did I understand what they used computers for. I assumed their use was similar to why we at Ravengard had a computer, but on a much larger scale. Keep track of the populace, monitor production, and ensure everything was defended, not to mention calculations as needed.

I approached the man in the booth with my companions behind me and cleared my throat to get the man’s attention.

The man kept his eyes locked on his screen as he spoke. “May I help you?”

“We’re here to see King Agnar,” I said.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No.”

“Then you may not see the King.”

I blinked. “But it’s important. We’ve been attacked, and—“

“It’s always important,” the man interrupted. “You could be Odin himself, and you still wouldn’t get in without an appointment. You may make an appointment with him here if you wish.”

I looked over my shoulder. The sun was nearly set. Not much time remained in the day, and every day was another chance for the giants to strike.

“How long will it take?” I asked.

“A week or so.”

“A week?”

“I know,” the man said. “The line is pretty short this time of year. Would you like to schedule?”

I turned to Trond and Ragnvald. “What do you think?”

“We can’t wait that long,” Trond said. “Ravengard will be in ruins by the time we speak with King Agnar.”

Ragnvald bowed his head and closed his wide, glowing eyes, whispered to the gods for a moment, paused in silence, then raised his head. “I receive no insight from the gods for this decision. It is up to you what you wish to do.”

Up to me. I furrowed my brow and stroked my chin. If Ravengard were to be defended, we needed help, whether that came from King Agnar or the dwarfs. I wasn’t sure how long a journey to Nidavellir and back would take. Maybe as long as it took to wait on the King. Maybe longer.

“Brother,” Trond said, “didn’t you say it was unlikely the King would help us? We should turn instead to the dwarfs.”

“You think it’s more likely they’ll give their support?” I asked. “We have little money, and the money we have will be spent on transport. Our chances for both are low. I think chancing King Agnar first is our wisest move. We should wait.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am. If the dwarfs do not help us, then we have traveled across the cosmos and left our people in vain. If King Agnar does not help us, then we are still on Midgard to help in case an emergency arises.”

“I thought the plan was to leave for Nidavellir when King Agnar refuses?”

“It is. But while we wait for our appointment with the King, we are on Midgard. Your son will contact us if the giants return.”

Trond sighed. “If this is what you believe is wise, then I shall follow your lead.”

I faced the man in the booth again. “We would like to make an appointment with the King.”

“Good. I will schedule you for a meeting next Tysdagr at 1430. Please arrive no later than that, and earlier if you can, as the King is not to be kept waiting. He’s a very busy man, as I’m sure you can expect.”

“That’s fine. Thank you.”

We strode back down the stairs leading up to the palace and climbed into the land speeder once again. I sighed as I took my seat. Trond sat next to me with a scowl replacing the usual smile on his face. I knew he wasn’t happy with my decision, but he didn’t have to like it. He trusted me, and I couldn’t be more grateful for that.

We drove for a long while looking for an inn. Night fell, and the stars in the sky were dimmer than I’d ever seen them before. They twinkled here and there, and the constellations were still clear. But the clusters were hidden from my eyes. I could not even see the arms of Yggdrasil, which stood out so bright against the darkness. The lights of Soemd drove away the lights of the heavens, and the glory of creation was lesser for it.

Trond found a good enough inn, so he parked the speeder in a secure garage, and we stepped inside the building. As we walked through the doors, a young girl bumped into me, making me stumble to the side. She wore a cloak with a rune shaped like an “F”. A quick apology, and the girl scampered off into the night. I adjusted my own cloak and marched further into the inn.

The ground floor was full of patrons eating, drinking, and laughing merrily. A small band played in one corner, but the music was difficult to make out over shouted conversations.

A woman with a hard look stomped towards us. She wore scarred yet clean armor under her cloak. The armor had markings I couldn’t quite make out. Her eyes bore into mine, and I paused, waiting for her to reach me.

The woman pointed at the inn’s entrance. “Did you let that girl escape?”

“The one with the cloak?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know she was trapped.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “I’ve been tracking her all night, and you just let her go?”

“Do not blame me for your carelessness. It was you who let her slip through your fingers, not me.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re roped into this now, whether you like it or not.”

“This is none of my concern.”

“It is now. Check your pockets.”

I did, and found that most of our money was gone. I turned to Trond. “We don’t have enough gul for transport.”

Trond’s jaw hung for a moment. “What?”

I returned my attention to the woman in front of me. “You know the girl who stole from us?”

“She and her crew are my targets,” the woman said.

I looked her up and down. “You’re a mercenary, aren’t you?”

“And you’re a clansman. Looks like we’re both outcasts.”

“If I help you find the girl, do I have your promise you’ll return the money she stole from me?”

“I promise. Maybe a little bit extra, if you’re nice about it. But it depends on how deep those thieves’ pockets are.”

“Just what was stolen, thank you.”

The woman eyed me for a moment. “We should go then.”

“You’ve already lost your target,” I said, “and my friends and I were tired. Meet us here in the morning. We’ll help you find your thieves.”

The woman huffed. “Fine. I’ll be here. Don’t make me wait too long.”

“I promise.”

She shouldered past me. I made sure to keep a hand on the rest of our money as she did. She stormed out into the dark streets.

Trond sighed. “What a wonderful start to our adventures.”

“Come,” I said. “Let’s get a room and rest. We have a busy day ahead of us.”

****

The lamps were dimmed as we prepared to rest for the night. I sat at the edge of my bed with my fingers laced together, resting my elbows on my knees. Trond was right. Our journey’s beginning was not nearly as successful as I had hoped. If things kept up the way they were, I was afraid Ragnvald’s predictions of doom and destruction would come true. But I could not give up my seat as Jarl like a coward. Was it selfish? I hadn’t decided yet. But a change in leadership during a time of crisis was not what Ravengard needed. They needed hope. Someone they could put their faith in. All I had to do was make sure that faith wasn’t misplaced, though I was finding that far more challenging than I expected.

Trond paused whatever task he had set to and stood over me. “Look on the bright side: at least we have something to do while we wait to see the King.”

“Yes, but it is possible we won’t recover our gul. If that’s the case, then we’re stuck here, and the King is our only available option.”

“All we need to do is meet up with that bounty hunter, then we’ll be fine. She’s tracking the thieves. She knows what she’s doing.”

“The fate of our quest rests in the hands of a mercenary. It’s not exactly what I had in mind for the beginning of our journey.”

“By the way, did you get her name?”

I shook my head. “She never told me.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait for her to find us.”

“She said she would. But keep an eye on her. I don’t want her roping us into anything we don’t need to be in.”

Trond bowed a little. “Of course, brother.”

“Will you stop bowing?”

“You know I can’t. But I’ve always wondered, why not?”

“Why not what?”

“Why not let me bow to you? You are our Jarl. It’s only right to do so.”

“Because I am your equal, not your superior.”

Trond chuckled. “Not according to our laws, you’re not. You mean to tell me you’ve been leading us without knowing what the law says? Did you forget father’s teachings so soon?”

I didn’t feel like laughing at his jests this time. “I… am not fit for this role.”

“Yes, you are. You saying that is only further proof of that.”

“My humility does not come from righteousness, but an understanding that I am neither strong enough nor wise enough to lead.”

“You’ve protected us so far. If it weren’t for you, we’d all be a pile of ashes before the giants.”

“One feat of combat is not enough to qualify a man to lead a clan.”

“No,” Trond said, “but you’ve done more than that. You don’t just lead. You serve. Without you, Ravengard wouldn’t know what to do. We’d fall apart.”

“The others don’t share your confidence.”

“They’re critical of any leader. Were they not as critical of father as they are of you? Anyone who sits on that throne invites mockery, whining, and complaining. It’s a humiliating position, and that is why one must be as humble as you to be in it. But when the need arises, they turn to you. Always.”

“You’re beginning to sound like father.”

“He taught me as much as he taught you. You know, just in case—“

“Just in case one of us was eaten by a wolf,” I said, smiling at the memory. “Yes.”

Trond grinned back. “Hold your head up. We’re not done for yet.”

“No,” Ragnvald said, “not yet. But soon.”

“Great,” Trond said. “Thank you, oh wise elder. Are you always this cheery?”

“I was told this by the Norns.”

“We know. Hey, you know what will make you feel better? Some time in the tavern below. What do you say, Erik?”

I sighed. “I appreciate the offer, but I only have one mind. It would be better if I didn’t intoxicate it. I’m going to rest for now. I’ll worry about tomorrow when it comes.”

Trond nodded. “Right. That’s probably the wise decision. Hence your leadership.”

“Goodnight, brother.”

“Goodnight.”

I lay on my side, my back facing the other two. I wasn’t exactly alone, but it was the closest I could get at that moment. I rested my head on my pillow and stared at the wall before me, my mind drifting to the days ahead. I wasn’t sure what this new adventure would entail, but I was sure that I wouldn’t like it.

Thank you for reading chapter 2 of Ravengard!

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I call to mind the kin of etins

which long ago did give me life.

Nine worlds I know, the nine abodes

of the glorious world-tree the ground beneath.

(The Prophecy of the Seeress, St. 2)

My father and my father’s father had a sworn duty to protect the people of clan Ravengard from any and all dangers. They slew bears, wolves, and raiders from other clans.

But neither of them had ever needed to protect their people from the giants.

The two blue and white strikecraft roared through the sky. They flew low over our village. Plasma bolts erupted against the ground, carving their way through the streets. Our two auto-turrets couldn’t get an angle on the first pass. The giants flew away and prepared to come around.

I lowered my rifle. Firing on the strikecraft was useless. My plasma bolts didn’t do any damage. The two auto-turrets—my grandfather named them after Odin’s wolves, Geri and Freki—fired relentlessly at the craft as they zipped through the sky and tore up the ground with their strafing runs. I saw my clansmen lying in the dirt, smoke spewing from their bodies. Ulfric dragged himself across the ground for cover, pulling with his arms and pushing with his remaining leg.

I stayed low and sprinted across the battlefield. Ulfric’s cries were audible now that I was closer to him. I grabbed under his arms and hauled him into the nearest house.

“You’re alright,” I said. “You’ll be fine.”

Ulfric said nothing, and continued groaning in pain and clutching his leg.

The giants’ strikecraft screeched through the air outside. I wondered when they would stop. They’d hit our village enough. We were weak. When were the ground troops arriving?

Probably after Geri and Freki were dead.

I peered through the open doorway as the next strafing run moved across the ground and barely missed Freki. The two guns in front of the clan hall fired away, their plasma beams lit up the sky with their yellow glow. The blue bolts of the giants continued aiming for the turrets and missing by a few feet. It wouldn’t be long before—

Geri blew sky-high. The fireball glowed bright as metal shrapnel flew everywhere. The villagers screamed. Their last line of defense was failing them. Only the gods could stop the giants now.

No. Not the gods. The Jarl.

I marched from the house, my eyes searching the sky. I aimed my weapon up. The screech of strikecraft engines echoed from above the trees. I squinted at the stormy clouds above, searching for movement. There, a strikecraft bearing down on Freki. The turret was busy dealing with the other strikecraft as it drew the gun’s fire away from the attacker. I took careful aim, steadying my weapon and breathing deep.

My lasers flew through the air and slammed into the hull of the giant’s craft. It didn’t do much damage aside from some fresh burn marks on the hull, but it was enough to startle the pilot. The strikecraft pulled away, giving Freki the time he needed to find the target, calculate the lead, and fire.

The craft erupted into flames and dropped like a stone.

The other strikecraft turned tail and flew away from clan Ravengard. Our first defense against giants was a success.

Almost.

I looked around at the village. Children wailed as their mothers held them close, or as they grabbed onto their mothers’ limp hands. Villagers tended to one anothers’ wounds and dowsed fires. Houses crumbled and blazed.

Never had I seen our village suffer such destruction.

“I warned you, Jarl Erik.”

I found Godi Ragnvald Geir hobbling over to me on his feeble legs. His large, augmented eyes glowed yellow. He grabbed onto his walking staff as though it was the only thing holding his aging body up, and I half believed that was true.

“Your time as Jarl of clan Ravengard is filled with destruction,” Ragnvald said. “You can either accept it and hand your title to your brother, or fight it and reap the consequences.”

I stared at the destruction before me. Half our village lay in ruins. Who knew how many dead and injured? Too many, I knew that much. While Ravengard was under the care of my father and my father’s father, there had never been this much destruction and bloodshed.

“I will not allow my people to die,” I said. “Neither will I submit to the whims of the cosmos. I was entrusted to lead, and so shall I lead, come what may.”

Ragnvald sighed and lowered his eyes. “So be it, Jarl Erik.”

****

As soon as the fires were dowsed, I called for a clan meeting. But it seemed the call wasn’t necessary. As I entered the clan hall, the table was already half full. As I stepped further inside, the talking and shouting grew quieter. My footsteps echoed off the walls. Everywhere I turned, I saw either eyes look away or glare at me. I met their glares and held my head high, despite the weariness and sorrow in my heart. Signs of weakness were not what these people needed now. They needed a strong leader. A fierce leader. A warrior leader.

“Erik!”

I spun and found Trond marching toward me with arms open wide as his smile. Nothing could dampen that radiant grin.

I embraced my brother.

He patted me on the shoulder and brushed his long hair out of his face. “That was an excellent shot.”

“I didn’t damage the ship. I only gave Freki an opening.”

“Don’t let the compliment go to your head.” He paused, looking me up and down. “I’m glad to see you’re alright.”

“And you. How are Eyedis and Arvid?”

“Arvid is ready to march straight into Jotunheim. If he can keep his footing. You know how the boy is. Always has his head in the clouds, doesn’t pay attention to where he’s going. Not to mention his memory. If I had a—“

“Trond, Eyedis,” I said. “How is she?”

Trond paused. His smile softened for a moment, but never wavered. “She’ll be alright. She’s strong. It’s not fatal, thank the gods. She’s more worried about losing her grandmother’s ring than her finger.”

“But they’re both safe?”

“Yes, brother. They’re both safe.”

“Good. You have a strong family. I hope you’re proud of them.”

“Of course, I am,” Trond said. “I’d be prouder if Arvid had his father’s sense of humor rather than his uncle’s. Although, I’m not sure he has yours, either. I don’t think it’s that he doesn’t find my jokes funny. I think it’s that he doesn’t understand them.”

I couldn’t help but grin a little. Count on Trond to bring light to any darkness, no matter how deep. I’m sure he could even make a trip to Helheim sound leisurely.

“I’ll start the meeting, then,” I said.

“Right.”

We both took our spots at the table. I at the head, and Trond on my right. The talking had shrank into whispers and murmurs, now. I drew my pistol and slammed the handle onto the table like a hammer. The crack rang out, and all the voices fell silent.

I fixed my braided beard and folded my large hands in front of me. I could still smell burning wood and the ozone-like scent of discharged plasma weapons. Dust and ash covered me, but now was not the time to wash. We needed to plan.

“Today,” I said, “we faced an unprecedented emergency: an attack from the giants. Never before have we faced such a foe, and I’m very proud to have fought against them with the likes of clan Ravengard. You all did well, and I want you all to be proud of how you acted today.”

One of the older clansmen, Njord, stood from his seat. “There were only two strikecraft, and they took out Geri. Yet you treat this as though it were some kind of victory?”

There was a murmur of agreement.

“What of my dear Sigrun?” said Erna, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’ll never hear her songs again. Is that a victory?”

“They’ll be back,” Njord said. “And when they come, there’ll be more. They’ll hunt us down like dogs and slaughter us!”

More agreement, angry yelling, and pounding on the table.

I stood and threw my chair back. “SILENCE!”

The hall fell quiet. I couldn’t even hear the singing of the birds outside. Then again, maybe there were no birds to sing songs.

“I do not call this a victory,” I continued. “I only wished you to know that you did everything you could, and whatever happened could not have been helped. But this is a tragedy. You’re right. It’s possible the giants will come back stronger than before. We need to find a way to hold them back, and we need to figure out what they want. They wouldn’t just kill us for no reason.”

“Yes they would,” Njord said. “They’re savages. Monsters. To them, we’re just animals. This might have been a game they play, and we just ticked them off by shooting down one of their own.”

“What would you have had me do? Stay inside? Hide like a coward? Let the giants fly back and forth, killing more of our people with each run?”

“We could have fled into the woods. We could have hid. Now, they’re coming to kill us and our families. You’ve doomed us, Erik.”

There was too much agreement at that statement. I sighed and hung my shoulders. If they had no confidence in me, there was nothing I could do about that. Maybe Ragnvald was right. Maybe I needed to step down as Jarl and give Trond my position. I had failed the gods, I had failed Ravengard, and I had failed my father.

“My brother,” Trond said, “risked everything to save you all. When those strikecraft were in the air, raining fire on our village, our Jarl stepped out into the open, becoming an easy target for those monsters, all so he could maybe hit one of the strikecraft, maybe giving Freki an opening, and maybe saving you lot. Are those the actions and choices of a pathetic and cowardly leader, or is that a story that is worthy of being told in the halls of Asgard? If anyone here will bring the attention and the blessings of the gods to us, it will be Jark Erik, the Giant Slayer.”

All eyes turned to me. I wanted to sink into the shadows, but this is what Ravengard needed. A hero. A legend. My eyes met Njord’s, and he turned away from me, sitting back down.

I huffed. “I do not do these things so that I might boast. I do them so that you might live. Together, we will find a way to fight back against these giants. I swear it.”

“But why do they attack us?”

It was Ragnvald, who sat hunched over on the far side of the table. “We do not possess anything they might want. Is Njord right, and this is merely sport for them? Or is there something more? Maybe they see the scattered clans of humanity, believe us weak, and are trying to start Ragnarok at such an opportune time.”

Murmurs spread across the table. I knit my brow and stared at Ragnvald. Everything led to Ragnarok with that man. Ragnarok was always right around the corner. Just a day or two away.

Yet he was right. Who knew the hour of Ragnarok, the Twilight of the Gods? And if the giants were trying to start it while humanity was scattered and weak, they would have a major advantage against us.

“While this motive is unlikely,” I said, “it must be considered. If the giants are trying to start Ragnarok, why begin with us?”

“Maybe they’re not trying to start it,” Trond said. “Maybe they’re testing us for our strength. Maybe they’re planning a campaign against Midgard to wipe out humanity and give themselves an edge when the Final Battle begins.”

“Possibly, but we can’t know for sure.”

Njord pounded on the table. “What good is trying to figure out why the giants are attacking us? The reality is that they’re here, and they’ve come to kill us. We need to figure out a response.”

“If we learn their motives,” I said, “we may be able to broker a deal with them so that they might get what they want and leave us in peace.”

“A deal? They’re savages. What they want is to wipe us out. We cannot peacefully submit to them, for they are not peaceful.”

Murmurs of agreement.

I pursed my lips. As much as I hated to admit it, I suspected Njord was right. The giants wanted nothing from us but our lives. They wanted to kill humanity, and that began with the clans scattered across Midgard. Once they cleared us out of the way, they’d have a straight shot to Soemd. King Agnar wouldn’t see it coming.

“We can’t let the giants past us,” I said. “We might be small, but it’s up to us to hold the line.”

Njord knit his brow. “For what? To protect the kingdoms? What have they done for us? What do we owe them that we must put ourselves on the line and give our lives to protect them from these giants?”

“Nothing. We owe them nothing.”

The table began speaking again. I saw incredulous looks passed from clansmen to clansmen. Confused squints were shot my direction.

“However,” I began loudly to silence the voices, “when Ragnarok begins—and make no mistake, it will begin—who will you look to for protection? The Final Battle. The battle to end all battles. The end before the new beginning. Does this sound like something clan Ravengard can face alone? Does this sound like something you’re prepared to defend your families against? If we are to survive Ragnarok, we must protect the kingdoms. It’s the only way humanity will endure.”

Njord shook his head. “This is all with the guess that Ragnarok will happen in our lifetime.”

“I do not guess that will happen, nor do I hope. But I would certainly like to be prepared if it comes.”

“My brother is right,” Trond said. “We are small. The kingdoms are strong. We need them on their guard if the giants are trying to start Ragnarok.”

“So, we warn them,” Njord said. “We tell them what happened and ask for their protection. They might even tell the gods of our plight and send a protector. Perhaps they send us Thor.”

Erna, still grasping the bloodied dress of her daughter, looked up at Njord with a fierce fire behind those teary eyes. “The gods? When have the gods ever cared about us? We must defend ourselves. We cannot rely on the Vanir or the Aesir to protect us. None come to protect but our own warriors.”

“What of the Valkyrie?” I asked. “Did three of their warrior maidens not fight alongside my father’s father against that raider party when all our other warriors were sick and injured? Did they not choose my father’s father for Valhalla? We were blessed that Odin would send his warriors to us. The gods favor us.”

“If that happened, then yes, I’d say the gods favor us,” Erna said. “But we still have nothing to go on but your father’s word.”

“What of my grandfather’s body? Where has it gone if not into the possession of the Valkyrie?”

“Eaten in the wild, I presume.”

I closed my eyes and sighed. “I suppose you’re right about one thing. If the gods do not come or send protectors, we must be ready to fight for ourselves.”

“How?” Njord said. “You saw what they did with not but two strikecraft. We’re defenseless against the giants. Clansmen we’ve fought. Beasts we’ve fought. But those monsters? We cannot take them on.”

“You’re right. We cannot. That is why we need a weapon.”

Trond shot me a look. “A weapon?”

“Yes. One that can rival even the technology of the giants. One made by the great smiths.”

Trond laughed a little, hope flashing in his eyes that I had finally picked up his sense of humor. “Surely, you jest.”

“No, I do not. I will journey to Nidavellir. I will ask the dwarfs for help in forging a weapon to protect us.”

“With what money? Brother, you can’t expect them to agree to this.”

“What choice do we have?”

“We can ask the kingdoms for help. King Agnar is nearby. He’ll send some of his forces to help protect us from the giants. His soldiers will keep them at bay. It’s in the best interest of the Soemd Kingdom, just as it is our best interest.”

“That’s if he believes our story.”

“He would doubt the great Jarl Erik?”

I couldn’t help but grin at that one. “Ravengard is one of the many small clans. Why should the giants attack us? He would think we’re lying so we can bolster our forces, maybe to help fight a rival clan. I will ask, but I doubt he will help us.”

Trond nodded. “Then it is to Nidavellir.”

“But who will lead us while you’re gone?” Njord asked. “Surely not this hunter, who knows not more than how to skin a rabbit.”

I glared at him. “You watch your tongue, you—“

“Please,” Trond said. “I know how to skin a squirrel, too.”

The table chuckled a little, but not Njord, whose gaze was as hard as ever.

Trond put his hands on his hips. “But no, not me. I plan to travel with our Jarl, if that is his wish.”

I looked at my brother, and he smiled back at me. A hunter in a small human clan traveling the cosmos. I suppose it wasn’t much more absurd as the leader of said small human clan venturing out onto the branches of Ygddrasil. Besides, I could use the company. Maybe his friendly personality could persuade King Agnar to help us, and our journey would end before it began.

I nodded to Trond. “It is my wish that you would go with me.”

A chair scraped across the wooden floor, and Ragnvald stood, leaning heavily on his staff. “I’m coming, too. You’ll need the wisdom of a godi on such a journey, not to mention my knowledge of the cosmos and of the gods.”

“Very well,” I said. “I ask that the rest of you stay and look out for one another. Rebuild the houses, tend to the fields, and care for the wounded. Trond, is he ready?”

Trond smiled and bowed slightly. “He is.”

I looked over the table. “My nephew, Arvid, will lead you while we are gone.”

The table groaned and complained.

Njord bared his teeth. “That oaf? You’ve got to be joking.”

“Arvid is not an oaf,” I said. “He might have two left feet, but his mind is as sharp as ever. He’ll make a fine leader, of that I’m sure. Besides, since he is third in line to Jarl after my brother, I’m sure it will be good practice for him.”

Erna raised an eyebrow at me. “You ought to have a child, Erik. I don’t want to be stuck with Arvid as leader after this journey kills you.”

Trond crossed his arms. “If you think Erik can have a child that quick, then I’m not sure you understand human biology very well.”

“I will have no more ill talk of Arvid,” I said. “He will lead you while I am gone, and that is final. My brother and I leave first thing tomorrow. You’re all dismissed.”

With more grumbling and the scraping of chairs against the ground, the people of clan Ravengard left the clan hall. I picked my chair up from where I’d thrown it, placed it back at the head of the table, and sat with my chin resting on my fist. The clan was restless, and I couldn’t blame them. After such an attack, I was restless, too. They were probably frustrated that they had nothing to do while my brother and I voyaged among the stars. We had a destination. They were being made to wait here until we returned. It was unfair to them.

Trond had stayed sitting with crossed arms. His blond hair flowed over his shoulders. “They are anxious. Do you think leaving Arvid to lead them is wise?”

“You ask me now? You said he was ready.”

“I don’t doubt his abilities, but I doubt the people’s allegiance. They won’t stand for it. They think him a fool.”

“And you?”

“Of course not. He’s the smartest man I’ve ever known, save for father.”

I nodded. “If only I had father’s wisdom to guide me now.”

“That wouldn’t be of much help. Not even he faced giants.”

“Thank you for your encouragement.”

Trond grinned. “Hey, you made a joke.”

“I could use some humor now.”

“No problem. That’s my strong suit.”

“So says you. Eyedis tells me otherwise.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Trond says. “She just has her moods.”

“Shouldn’t you go spend the night with her before our voyage?”

“Not when you seem as troubled as you do.”

I grinned. “Thank you, brother. But you can go. Send my love.”

“Erik, are you sure—?”

“I’m fine, Trond,” I said. “Go.”

Trond stood and gave a slight bow. It didn’t matter how many times I told him I was his brother first and his Jarl second, he insisted on showing his allegiance to my leadership as a clansman.

The hall was silent now. The bickering, groaning, and complaining were gone. Father had warned me about that. When in leadership, people will always have something to say about you. That doesn’t mean you’re not doing what’s best for them. It only means they hold you to a higher standard, as well they should.

I stood and marched out of the hall, returning to my house nearby. The wooden door creaked open. I undid my belt and set it on the table, leaving my pistol behind. There was already a lantern on. I had left it on in case he needed to get up to get some water or relieve himself. But I was sure he was in bed now.

“Father?”

I stepped into his room, and sure enough, the man who once towered over me, battling beasts with his bulky arms, who had once shown me his wisdom as a Jarl and taught me how to lead our clan, lay graying before me, pale, thin, and weak. His breaths were labored. He wheezed with every inhale. His dark eyes stared blankly at the ceiling above.

I sat by his bed. “Father, I’m here.”

He struggled to speak. “How did… the meeting… go?”

“Well enough. Trond and I are to depart for Soemd. If we cannot enlist the help of the king, then we make for Nidavellir, where we will ask the dwarfs to forge a weapon for us.”

“When will… the giants… return?”

“I don’t know, Father.”

“You understand… that they will be back?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Then you are wise.”

I grabbed his skeletal hand, his fingers so cold. “I doubt my wisdom of late, Father.”

“Oh? What… troubles you?”

“We’ve never fought giants before. We don’t know when they will return. Each day Trond and I are gone may spell doom for our clan. We may have nothing to return to. You might… I can’t lose you.”

Old Jarl Ingolf, with all his effort, turned his pale face to look at me. “I am already lost, whether it be by giants or age.”

“Then it should be by giants, so the Valkyrie might choose you for Valhalla. You’ve earned your spot among Odin’s warriors.”

“It is not your place to judge who has earned Valhalla and who hasn’t,” Ingolf said. “If it is my fate to die of old age, then it is my fate.”

“But we can change it. We can give you an end you deserve.”

“My son, Ragnvald has already told me that the Norns gave him foresight into my future. I am to pass here on this bed of old age. I will not be in Valhalla.”

I crammed down the sudden well of emotions, forcing them back. “We shall see, father.”

“Ragnvald said your time as Jarl would be full of destruction.”

I paused, staring at my father. “Are you saying that I should step down as Jarl? That Trond should take my place?”

“No,” Ingolf said. “I’m only saying that this was meant to be, just as you were meant to be Jarl. Things that must happen happen. You must trust that. Do you understand, my son?”

“I understand, but I do not accept. I will find a way to stop the giants. I will save our clan. You have my word.”

“Then it is your word against the gods’.”

****

I stared over my shoulder at the houses that made our village. No, it wasn’t the houses. It was the people living inside them. They were the village. Without them, there would be no clan Ravengard. And if I failed, there also would be no clan Ravengard.

Past the villagers watching Trond and I, I spied my house with my father inside. The great Jarl Ingolf was probably sleeping, his eyes closed in peaceful rest. Would he remain when I came back, or would he be offered up on a pyre?

“He’ll be alright,” Trond said. “Eyedis will look after him.”

My gaze remained on the house. “I have no doubt that she will do a great job. But I do not know if his age can be cured by mortals.”

“What, are you going to take the Fruit of Life itself from Asgard? He’ll be here when we get back. You’ll see.”

“He grows weaker by the hour. Old age doesn’t suit him.”

“I agree. And speaking of age, where is that blasted godi?”

Ragnvald was taking far too long to prepare. I half suspected that he delayed our journey intentionally. To what purpose, I do not know. But who can predict the plans of one who believes he knows the future?

Finally, Ragnvald emerged with Arvid walking alongside him, carrying Ragnvald’s travel case. Ragnvald hobbled towards our waiting landspeeder as it hovered above the overturned ground, the engines whining softly as they idled.

“I am here, my friends,” Ragnvald said.

Trond adjusted himself in the driver’s seat. “It’s about time. Did it take longer to relieve yourself than you expected?”

“Enough jokes, young hunter. It’s time we were off.”

“It’s been time. But I guess you predicted we would leave later, huh?”

The old man glowered as he climbed into the speeder. “Drive, Trond.”

“As you wish.”

Eyedis, her auburn hair blowing in the breeze, placed her uninjured hand on Trond’s face and smiled. “Come back to me in one piece, alright?”

Trond scoffed. “You’re one to talk.”

Eyedis smiled and rolled her eyes. “Hey, I’m not the one gallivanting across the stars. Be careful. I’ll make your favorite dinner when you get back.”

“A lot of everything?”

“A lot of everything.”

“I love you.”

Arvid came close to Trond and stared at his father. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Trond grinned. “Of course, you can. Tell him, Erik.”

“I wouldn’t have chosen you if I didn’t trust you,” I said. “You’ll do a good job of taking care of our people. I’m sure of it.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You will.”

“I don’t want to let you down. You or my father.”

Trond pulled his son close and rubbed the top of his skull. “Oh, Arvid. As long as you do your best and consult your grandfather when you have questions, you can’t let us down.”

Arvid wrinkled his nose. “Grandfather? Isn’t he… you know, old?”

“That’s exactly why you should consult him,” Trond said. “He’s seen more days than you or I. He’s the wisest of the village. If anyone has answers for you, it’s him. Just don’t bother him too often. He naps a lot.”

Arvid snickered.

Trond nodded. “Right. I suppose that’s us off, then. We’ll be back before you can spell Jotunheim.”

Trond looked at me. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

“I must warn you,” Ragnvald said from the back, “this task may prove too much for us to handle. You know what I think the best course of action is.”

“I do,” I said. “But I will not have fate rule over my life.”

“It already does.”

I ignored him. “To Soemd, brother.”

“To Soemd.”

He threw the throttle, and the land speeder shot forward.

Welcome to Ravengard.

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This is Norse mythology like you’ve never seen it before.

What is Ravengard?

Ravengard is Norse mythology reimagined in a science fiction setting.

Dwarfs and elfs are aliens, Yggdrasil is navigable with spaceships, and Valhalla is a digital afterlife where the consciousness of select warriors is uploaded after they die in battle.

Lots of fun stuff.

It’s been a challenge adapting some of these ideas into science fiction, but I think it turned out really well. This is absolutely one of the coolest stories I’ve written so far, and I believe it can only get cooler as I write more chapters.

The story follows the chief—or jarl—of clan Ravengard named Erik Randolf. When giants attack his village, they are overwhelmed and outmatched, and the giants barely break a sweat. Through a stroke of luck (or fate), Erik manages to hold them off, but he knows they’ll be back. He needs a plan of defense.

Erik, his brother, Trond, and the village priest, Ragnvald, journey across the stars in search of a weapon that can help them defeat the giants and save Ravengard from its prophesied destruction. But will they get the weapon in time, or will the giants conquer the small clan?

Where can I read it?

Why, right here, of course.

There will be new chapters sent out through Substack every Friday, which means you’ll get them right in your inbox if you subscribe.

Subscribe now

Or if you prefer to read your web fiction on a site dedicated to web fiction, you can also read Ravengard on Royal Road. You won’t fall behind. There is no early access to chapters. Everyone receives them at the same time every Friday.

Now, if you want exclusive short fiction, lore drops, and news about Ravengard, then you’ll definitely have to subscribe here. But the actual webnovel itself will be fully and freely available on Royal Road.

How can I help?

I am a mortal human, and as such, I’m prone to making mistakes.

While you’re reading Ravengard, if you could point out any spelling errors, grammar mistakes, continuity mishaps, and sentences that make absolutely no sense, I’ll be more than happy to correct those mistakes for future readers.

With your help, we can make this story even better.

Also, I plan on releasing this serial on Amazon in volumes, so any help in getting those book covers illustrated is appreciated. I’d prefer to have a professional do it rather than rely on my shoddy Photoshop skills, so if you’d like to tip your waiter author, that’d be most appreciated. Any little bit counts.

Support Ravengard

Or if you’d rather not do any of that and just want to enjoy a super cool space Viking story, you’re more than welcome to do that. This story is completely free, and I believe you are entitled to keep your hard-earned cash in your wallet.

Now, sit back, relax, and…

Wait, it’s not that kind of story.

Sit forward, grip your screen with sweaty palms, and get ready for a pulse-pounding adventure.

I’ll see you there!