Chapter 12: Desire born of Power

"Azerath Metrion Zinthos… Azerath Metrion Zinthos… Azerath Metrion Zinthos…" the chanting served no real purpose anymore, and neither did the meditation. With her power stripped away, there no longer was a risk of her losing control and going on a destructive rampage. Or at least, not a destructive rampage that would be a threat to anything besides her furniture and cutlery.

"Azerath Metrion Zinthos… Azerath Metrion Zinthos… Azerath Metrion Zinthos…" and yet she still kept doing it. Call it habit, call it nostalgia, call it an attempt to cling to whatever of her old life that she could. Did not really matter to her in the end.

"Azerath Metrion Zinthos… Azerath Metrion Zinthos… Azerath Metrion Zinthos…" she had at the very least found a decent spot for her meditation. Being cooped up in that hut of hers only worked for so long until even she craved a change in scenery. And here, perched atop a jagged cliff edge that jutted out over the sea below like the claw of some titanic beast, was certainly a change in scenery.

"Azerath Metrion Zinthos… Azerath Metrion Zinthos… Azerath Metrion Zinthos…" even the weather and landscape, which she had cursed to high heaven and back on more than one occasion, now had a strange and savage beauty to it. Had she grown accustomed to it with time, or was she only able to appreciate it now that she had found relative safety among the locals? Who knew?

"Azerath Metrion Zinthos… Azerath Metrion Zinthos… Azerath Metrion Zinthos…" Nevertheless, with a clear night sky above her, she could see thousands of stars shining brightly above. A sight made all the more serene by the surprisingly calm waves below. She had only lived here for a few weeks, and even she had learned that the waters around here were harsh and temperamental at the best of times.

"Azerath Metrion Zinthos… Azerath Metrion Zinthos… Azerath Metrion Zinthos…" But on this evening, the winds were soft, and the waters remained at peace. It left the surface of the ocean sparkling like diamonds from the many stars reflected upon its surface, only broken by the occasional ice pack drifting with the waves.

"Azerath Metrion Zinthos… Azerath Metrion Zinthos… Azerath Metrion Zinthos…" it all gave a calm and soothing atmosphere for Raven, something she was desperately craving as of late. Life in the village may have been safe for her when compared to her hellish trek through the Norscan wilderness, but that did not mean that it did not test her resolve in other ways.

"At it again, are we?" a voice asked behind her, but Raven gave no signs of being startled. For one, she had heard the footsteps crunching through the snow. But more importantly, her ever silent guardian was standing watch nearby. He would not have let anything even resembling a threat get anywhere near her. Something a pair of eager youngsters with way more balls than brains learned the hard way a few days earlier.

"It helps me think," she simply answered, still seated in her lotus position with her back turned towards her guest.

"Ah yes, thinking. A dangerous thing in the hands of youth with vigor in their bones and too much time on their hands," chuckled the old man as he stepped into her field of view, leaning on his staff for support.

"Youth is wasted on the young and wisdom is wasted on the old," Raven quipped back with a raised eyebrow. "And how long do you intend to keep that little charade up?"

The old man looked downright offended by her accusation. "Charade? Why I never! I am a frail old man on his last legs in this mortal realm!"

He sounded so convincing that Raven almost felt inclined the believe him. Almost. That twinkle of humor in his milky white eyes gave away his true feelings on the matter. Not to mention that age old adage from back home. Beware the old man in a profession where men die young.

"Secretive… old man," she fired back at him instead, speaking very haltingly in a heavily accented Norscan tongue. The old man practically beamed at her.

"This is a land without laws beyond those made by the strong. Secrets are a necessity to survive," he replied in flawless Norscan, speaking as though he was one of the people himself.

"But secrets… never stay buried… forever," she countered. It only made the old man chuckle.

"Your Norscan is getting better, young lady," he complimented, this time speaking in that weirdly accented German. Reikspiel, as it was apparently called. The language of the enemy. Or at least so Raven assumed based on how the Norscans would visibly sneer whenever the word was uttered.

"Not that hard once you've got the basics down," she answered with a nonchalant shrug as she turned her gaze back out towards the sea. "But you didn't come all this way just to banter with me, did you?"

"Indeed not, young lady. Ragnar is hosting people from another settlement, and he has requested your presence,"

Raven could feel her lips twitch at the mention of that name. Whether in amusement or irritation, not even Raven could say with certainty. The man's goals had been easy to figure out even before she began breaching the language barrier, for he made no secret about how he desired her. That alone should have been enough for him to earn the cold shoulder from Raven.

But apart from the fact that publicly snubbing her host would be a phenomenally stupid move on her part, Raven could not deny that he had been the epitome of a gentleman in his affection. No attempts at forcing her into his bed, no outright demands for marriage, and no outrageously revealing clothing for her to wear. Even when seated right next to him, he always kept his hands to himself and never attempted a handholding or to cop a feel.

All in all, he was nothing like what she had expected out of these Norscans in terms of courtship. Definitively standing as a stark contrast to-

Breathing suddenly became a lot harder for Raven, and she hastily abandoned that train of thought as she fought to steady her breathing again. The old man never so much as hinted at having noticed her mini-panic attack.

"Shall we then?" he instead asked with a grandiose gesture down the cliff.

"If it's that important," Raven most assuredly did not grumble, and she did not groan in the slightest once she stood back up and stretched out her stiff legs again. By Azar, I've gotten soft ever since losing my powers.

"Lead the way then," she then said with as much dignity as she could muster. The old man merely gave an indulgent smile and began walking down the cliff with Raven falling in step next to him.

"Is my presence really that important for him?" she asked. Not whine, most definitively not whine. Anyone who said differently was merely trying to slander her.

"Well of course! You are lord Ragnar's most honored and esteemed guest, the envy of many a powerful man in Norsca!" the old man exclaimed with far too much cheer in Raven's humble opinion.

"Right, esteemed guest. Because of course I am," she drawled back with the most deadpan facial expression she could muster. Something she had received plenty of practice with as of late regarding her most magnanimous host.

For all his good points about respecting her boundaries, he continually grated on her nerves with his insistence on showing her off to his peers and rivals like a damn trophy. Oh sure, it was always done with great reverence, having her seated next to him as an equal and never once trying to order her about, even asking for her opinion on one particular occasion.

But Raven could read between the lines here. This was a power-move, plain and simple. It was Ragnar flaunting that he had someone like Raven living under his roof. Worse, she knew why this was such a power-move. She had not missed the way people whispered "Godspawn" whenever she passed them by.

"Smile and wave. Just smile and wave," she muttered to herself.

"Did you say something?" the old man inquired with a tilt of the head.

"Nothing important," she brushed him off, and he accepted the answer with but a shrug of his shoulders. They then found Raven's ever silent guardian waiting for them at the bottom, and he quickly fell in line just three steps behind Raven like a shadow. Once an annoyance she dearly wished he would stop with, now it was one of Raven's few sources of comfort.

"So who is it this time? The usual ruffians he calls allies or something worse?" she found herself asking as they trudged onward, mostly so as to prepare herself for how big her coming headache was about to be.

"Oh, if only it was that simple this time. The one visiting this time is one of Ragnar's fiercest and longest living rivals, Jarl Rollo. The two of them have traded blows with one another on and off the battlefield for nearly a decade now,"

"Oh joy of joys," Raven deadpanned as she suddenly felt the urge to just drag her feet through the snow. "So should I expect a bloodbath before the day's out?"

The old man's face was as carved out of stone as he gave her a most grave look. "If the Gods be good, nothing but empty threats will be exchanged. But I'd still caution you to stay close to your guardian in case the worst were to happen."

"You know I was joking, right?" she hesitantly asked.

"I wasn't," he answered back. An awkward silence followed that statement.

"Anyway…"Raven began again. "What can I expect of this one? Same arrogance and bluster as the previous ones?"

Truth be told, Raven cared not either way. Just another asshole in a long line of assholes she had been forced to endure. No, she was more looking to start a conversation to provide her a distraction. Why? Because they were about to walk past the village's ritual site, a place Raven had fought tooth and nail to stay as far away from as she could feasibly get away with.

Her powers were currently gone, rendering her little more than just an ordinary human. And yet even in this state, she could still feel the aura of sheer wrong that clung to that primitive circle of stones. It was something she had never been able to describe in words, and most certainly had never tried to discuss with anyone, but it was something that had convinced Raven most thoroughly to avoid it like the plague.

"Plenty of arrogance to be sure, one earned on the battlefield many times over, but hardly bluster. He's always been a fierce and aggressive man, and there are few things in life that truly frighten him," the old man answered as he hobbled along next to her. And how long does he intend to keep acting like he's some sort of elderly cripple? No one I've seen is fooled by the act.

"Right, and he's Ragnar's biggest rival. So what's he here for? Tea and biscuits?" it was meant as a joke on Raven's part, but she was curious herself. After all, he hardly sounded like the kind of man interested in talking things out.

"He claims he's here to discuss the possibility of him and Ragnar conducting a joint raid this spring," he answered.

Raven arched an eyebrow. "Did the concept of 'rival' change meaning while my back was turned?"

That actually elicited a light chuckle from the old man. "Hardly, it's just that your definition is different from theirs. Raids are an essential part of Norscan society. For more than just the usual hogwash about glory and favor with the Gods, but also for the survival of their people. When a raid is called, even the most bitter of foes will put aside their differences and join forces for a common goal."

Then a downright nasty grin grew on his weathered-beaten face. "Of course, once the raid is complete and they're safely on their way back home…"

Raven could only nod her head in grim acceptance. Truth be told, it sounded just like what she would have expected of these people. And she did not mean that in a good way.

"In any case, I'd still caution you to be on guard for this meeting. You were right to be skeptical of the two of them joining forces, for the enmity between them runs deep. I would not put it past that old viper to have come here with ulterior motives," the old man warned, and that Raven could believe in without reservations.

"Have these people ever considered the possibility that maybe they wouldn't be as fractured and dependent on raids to survive if they could just put aside their difference and work towards a common goal?" that did not mean that she had to like it.

"But they do, young lady. Whenever the drums of war beat and the Dark Gods call, the Norscans are among the first to answer. Tribal rivalries are always put to the wayside when war beckons," he answered, his nonchalant tone betraying his indifference towards something that had Raven gritting her teeth.

"I meant beyond warfare," she ground out. "Have they never considered the possibility of just… stop fighting each other all the time and make something more than… this?" the scorn was all but dripping out of her mouth with every word as she gestured towards the settlement, of which they were drawing ever closer.

The old man just shrugged his shoulders. "Some have over the centuries. Visionaries who believed their people could accomplish so much more if they stood united rather than divided."

"And?" Raven prodded.

"Neither they nor their families survived for long, and their dreams followed them into the grave," was that look he gave her supposed to be sympathetic or patronizing? "The Gods do not take kindly to those that try to disrupt what they consider to be the desired way of life."

There was nothing Raven could say to that, so she kept her silence as they entered the village. As they walked, men and women alike vacated their path, many bowing in subservience while the rest gave a warrior's salute. It made Raven's skin crawl, but there was little she could do to dissuade them so she just did her best to ignore them and keep on walking.

Idly however, she pondered on the old man's words. Could change be brought to these people? Could she bring change to them? She quickly dismissed that thought. There was a reason why Robin's ascension to team leader had gone unopposed. The others had had their moments to shine as leaders, however brief it might have been in some cases, but Raven had always thrived in the background.

No, if change was to be brought to these people, it had to be someone else, someone more suited to be a leader than she would ever be. Wait, was that laughter she could vaguely hear? It was gone as quickly as it appeared, and a discreet glance at her surroundings showed that no one else had reacted. Must have been my imagination then.

"And here we are," the old man then announced as they came to a stop outside the longhouse. And wow, she had not even stepped inside, yet she could already feel the tension in the air. Might have had something to do with the groups of Norscan marauders gathered outside the doors, clearly divided into two distinct groups that both were seemingly doing their level best to murder the other group with their glares.

No luck on that front so far, thank Azar. But Raven came from a world where eye-lasers were a very real thing, so she was still cautious. Luckily, neither side did anything to impede her progress. In fact, neither side did more than just give her a cursory glance before resuming their staring contest, as if they were afraid the other side would try and attack if they did not pay attention to them.

Judging by how they were all eagerly fingering their assortment of weapons, that might not have been too far from the truth.

"Some rivalries run quite deep in these lands," the old man murmured to her as they walked past the two groups.

"So I can see," she answered, trying to hide her growing anxiety behind a façade of indifference. If this was how the low-ranking grunts were treating each other, how would the head honchos act? She got her answer when the doors were opened and she stepped inside to- sweet merciful Azar! Is this a longhouse or a bloodsport arena?!

No blood had been shed, no bodies littered the ground, and no weapons were drawn. Yet even then, the whole place felt like it was primed and ready for a bloodbath. And two individuals stood at the very epicenter of this. Ragnar was enough to recognize, with those icy blue eyes of his that seemed to stare right through you whenever he cast his gaze at you.

But then there was the fellow standing in front of him, a man that made everyone else in the room look like children by comparison. Easily two heads taller than everyone else, with a face framed in by both hair and beard so long ans so thick so as to be compared to a lion's mane. Thick corded muscles bulged beneath pale skin that in turn was criss-crossed by a myriad of scars. Some clean and precise, the obvious work of human blades, while others showed signs of a savage mauling by teeth and claws.

Clearly, a man that thrived in violence and bore the signs with pride, judging by how he walked around bare-chested in the middle of winter, with only a cloak made out of bearskin serving as protection for his upper body. How did she know it was a bear? Because its head and upper jaw was being used as a macabre and very impractical shoulder guard. What is it with Norscan men and their incessant need to eschew proper armor in favor of naked abs?

"Ah, and this must be the fabled Godspawn I've heard so much about," great, and now he had noticed her too. And the way he was looking at her had Raven wishing she could have sent him flying to the moon. That wish only grew stronger when that gaze started travelling southwards.

"Eyes up here," she snapped at him in Norscan, hoping her anger would cover her accent. The giant of a man merely let out a booming laugh in return.

"A feisty one, that's for sure," the wolfish grin suddenly made Raven feel like a lost lamb cornered by a hungry beast. "Jarl Rollo of Fjirgard. A pleasure to meet the fabled Godspawn in person."

"Anything but mutual," she snarked right back at him. Was it smart to antagonize a man that could pull her head off with his bare hands? Not really. Did she really care about that right now? Hell no.

"Heh, you remind me of my children. Vicious as a daemons, the lot of them, with a temperament to match," Rollo laughed as he took a step towards her. "Mind you, they have calmed down since then after being reminded about their proper place while I still draw breath."

Raven was swiftly reminded of his much more imposing height as he took yet another step towards her. Everyone tensed, ready should battle be joined, and her silent guardian made to step forward into Rollo's path. Raven stopped him with a raised hand and met Rollo's towering frame head-on without flinching.

"Spare me the posturing. You bore me already," she drawled, a façade of boredom in place even as she seethed on the inside. I once stared down Trigon himself and banished him from existence, and yet now some cheap barbarian knock-off with a pelt-fetish is enough of a threat to me that I must bluff and posture like this.

Rollo just threw his head back and bellowed out a loud laugh. "There's a fire in you, all right! A rarity among these people!"

"If you're quite done bringing the wrath of the Gods down on your head, I believe we were just about done here," Ragnar then spoke up. And credit where credit was due, not even Raven could quite figure out his mood as he stared at Rollo with a carefully blank face.

"HAH! That's always been your problem Ragnar! Too afraid of the Gods' wrath!" and Rollo was completely untroubled by it. "Boldness, and the willingness to take what you want regardless of the obstacles, that's how you win the Gods' favor!"

Raven did not like the way he looked at her when he said that.

But then Rollo's attention was back to Ragnar. "In any case, won't you reconsider my proposal? It would benefit us both a great deal."

Ragnar's smile was anything but friendly. "Please, let's not pretend that your proposal is anything else but another attempt to kill me and steal all the glory for yourself."

"My, such bold accusations you make straight to my face! But tell me, is it wisdom or cowardice that prompts them?" Ragnar was smiling, and Rollo was laughing. Neither of them looked the least bit amused.

"Depends. Is it bravery or stupidity to trust you with anything?" Ragnar asked back. Rollo's smile was all teeth as he loomed above Ragnar.

"Always quick with words," he growled out to the still unmoving Ragnar.

"A skill you always sorely lacked," Ragnar replied. Breathing suddenly became a struggle as everyone made ready for battle. One errant twitch, and the hall would be bathed in blood.

"Another time then," Rollo finally relented as he turned around and marched away, his followers quickly falling in line behind him. Raven made no move to vacate his path and resolutely stood her ground with her eyes firmly locked forward. Don't give the bastard the satisfaction of making the celebrity get out of his way.

Rollo did not seem bothered by this as he simply stepped around her. But then he stopped as he stood next to her. He was not looking at her, eyes instead watching her guardian like a hawk, but his next words were most definitively directed at her.

"Do take care. The world is not kind to those who choose the wrong protector," then he was out the door before she could reply, his followers close behind even as they gave her a wide berth. Breathing was suddenly difficult for Raven, but she refused to show it as she remained standing where she was with a stoic look firmly kept in place. A threat, straight to my face without the least bit of subtlety. And there's nothing I can do about it but hope that Ragnar's stronger.

Raven could not remember ever having felt this humiliated in her life.

"Damn that man and his ambitions," well at least she was in the same boat as Ragnar, based on both that comment and the slew of Norscan words afterwards that Raven could quite safely guess were curses.

"What he want?" she haltingly asked, her broken accent much more obvious now that she was not trying to hide it.

"Proposals of cooperation to deal with our neighbors. More than likely a trap meant to finally kill me," he answered as he rubbed his eyebrows.

"A poor attempt then," Raven could not help but observe.

"Indeed it was. I was honestly expecting more out of him," then he was all smiles again as he approached. "But worry not about him, my dear. He's no true threat to us,"

"If say so," Raven's very dubious reply did absolutely nothing to dampen Ragnar's spirits as he guided her deeper into the longhall, where she could now see more guests skulking in the background waiting their turn. Every last one of them seemingly more interested in her than in Ragnar.

Oh joy.

"By Azar, I never thought they'd leave," Raven grumbled to herself as she stomped into her private abode. "You'd think they'd have better things to do than just stand and gawk at me."

A slight exaggeration of the proceedings, Raven would admit, but it sure as hell did not feel like it from her point of view. So many people from far and wide come to get a measure of the fabled Godspawn. The only thing more annoying was her continued reliance on Ragnar to keep them all at bay.

With gritted teeth and dark thoughts, she all but stomped over to the basin, already filled with water and waiting for her. Washing her face with an aggressive vigor, as if the water would be enough to wash away her bad mood, she asked herself a question that became more and more frequent for her. What am I even doing here?

The answer was obvious: seeking shelter. But how long did she plan to hang around here? These people knew nothing about how to get her home, nor did they possess any great power or wisdom that could point her in the right direction. If she ever wanted to go back home, she would need to leave and try her luck somewhere else. Leave? And go where exactly?

She froze midway to reaching for a piece of cloth as the thought came to her. Because that was the crux of her issues. Go where exactly? She knew nothing of the lands beyond Norsca, and she knew even less about where she could find reliable help. Simply put, leaving would be throwing the dice blind and try to guess what the results would be. It was a fool's errand. But then again, so was standing up to father.

Her fist came down on the table even as her eyes hardened. Since when had she been this damn indecisive? Not to mention cowardly? When had great adversity stopped her from taking a leap of faith? When did I not have my powers to back me up?

That thought was like a bucket of ice-cold water dumped on her head, because there was an answer to that question. When father came to Earth and she was reduced to little more than a powerless toddler that needed to be rescued time and again. But I got my powers back, and I banished father.

And yet here she still stood, as powerless as a mortal woman and dependent on brutish savages for protection. A part of her was grateful that Robin was not here to see it, she would have never heard the end of it as he had suggested joint martial arts training for the whole team on more than one occasion. If getting my powers back would have been that easy, I would have already done it.

"Dammit, when did I become such a coward?!" she screamed as she drove her fist into the table again with even greater strength. All it accomplished was leave her knuckles severely bruised and alerted her of someone else with her thanks to a startled gasp. Instantly, her expression softened as she turned to the terrified girl huddling in the corner, visibly trembling. The things she must have been put through to react like that even to anger not directed at her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she spoke in Reikspiel, but received no reply. Just like all the other times she had tried to speak with the girl. Rather than wasting time trying to start up a conversation with her, like she had done the first few days, Raven instead brought out a small sack she had carried with her.

"You really deserve better than to be fed like some glorified pet," she muttered to herself in English even as she handed the offering over. It contained selection of bread, cheese and sausages she had managed to squirrel away from the longhouse. Ragnar may have done her the supposed honor of gifting this slave to her, but little else was done to look after her well-being.

As usual, the girl accepted the gift with downcast eyes but refused to eat immediately. Preparing to hide it where Raven could not find it or planning to share it with the other slaves, she did not know. Slaves. Just the mere thought of that word left a sour taste in Raven's mouth. Made all the worse by her inability to do anything about it. Rampant abuse of them had ceased when Raven's displeasure at such acts became known, her compassion masked behind disdain with claims that abuse to the weak and defenseless was a sign of cowardice.

It seemed to have done the trick, though Raven was still confused by the mutterings about "a witch behaving like a champion of the Blood God".

But in the end, she knew her victory was a hollow one. Keen eyes could still see bruises and rope marks on the flesh of slaves, for Raven and her displeasure could not be everywhere at once. Only this one remained safe, protected by the knowledge that she was Raven's property. Is this what I'm reduced to? A powerless girl only able to protect one innocent while countless others suffer right in front of me?

She suddenly felt a deep nausea, and so she stood back up again and made for the door.

"Need some fresh air, I'll be back in a few hours," she absentmindedly called over her shoulder in Reikspiel before grabbing the door handle. She stopped dead in her tracks though when she felt a determined tug on her cloak. Confused, she turned back around to find the young girl gripping the edge of her cloak even as she stared at her with a look of frightened desperation.

"I promise you, I won't be gone for too long. You'll be safe here," Raven tried to assure her, but the girl refused to let go even as she furiously shook her head in denial. It made Raven deeply unsettled, for this was the first time she had acted like this. Not since that fateful day in the longhouse, when Raven had unwittingly bartered for her freedom, had she looked this terrified.

"What happened?" she asked of her, but she refused to answer as he grip only tightened. Raven instantly turned around and gently laid her hands upon the girl's shoulders. She visibly flinched from the contact, and Raven tried hard not to imagine the actions that must have created such a response from her.

"Whatever's wrong, you're safe with me, understand? I won't let anyone hurt you," she spoke soothingly, but it did little to calm the poor thing down. Tears were even beginning to gather in her eyes, and Raven could feel her whole body tremble. Poor thing was absolutely terrified of something.

With slow and gentle moves, Raven brought the girl closer until she could wrap her in a one-armed hug. Then she brought up the cloak she was wearing until it was draped over both of their shoulders. The girl looked at Raven with wide eyes, but her trembling was slowly diminishing. Raven offered her a gentle smile. I guess those short times with the kids back home really were useful learning experiences.

"Come on, I think we both could use a bit of fresh air," she murmured before gently guiding the girl out of the house and then towards the village gates. No doubt she would be receiving quite a few confused looks, but she cared not. I can't save them all. It physically hurts to admit it, but I can't.

Her eyes landed yet again on the girl snuggled into her side, hiding from the world within Raven's cloak. But she was no longer trembling, and was holding onto Raven with both arms like her life depended on it. But I can at least protect this one. And that will have to be enough.

On the way though, she idly noted that her silent guardian was not at his post at his door, and thus did not follow her like a sentient shadow as he was often wont to do. Did that guy finally get a hobby beyond stalking me?

Her thought held more fondness than any real bitterness to it, and so she dismissed this occurrence and continued on.

On a high vantage point overlooking the whole village, two figures watched Raven's departure from the village. One shook his head with a tired smile, the other stood silent and unmoving.

"You know, I admire her spirit, and her refusal to give in to the inevitable," the blind old man commented as he leaned forward on the stone he used as a chair. Raven's guardian remained ever silent as he stared at the tiny dot in the distance that was his charge.

"Having second thoughts? Desiring to go down there and save her?" the old man suddenly inquired, but the guardian gave no reply. Did not even glance in his general direction.

"Got nothing to say? Or are you simply unable to say what you really want?" and yet still the old man continued to ask questions of him, only to yet again be met by stony silence.

"Sometimes I wonder what happened to turn you into the thing you are today, and what kind of man you were before," the old man began as he slowly rose from his seat, wincing as he felt his old and weathered knees straining against the movement. "Was it a gift or a curse that turned you into a being of such power yet devoid of a free will?"

A quiet chuckle came from the old man. "Knowing the Gods, perhaps it was both."

Then there was a caw from above, and the old man's albino bird came down for landing. The old man eagerly held out his arm, almost falling over when the bird landed on the offered perch, and then leaning forward as the bird hopped up to his shoulder. No words audible to the human ear was uttered, but the old man still muttered and nodded along as if the bird was whispering into his ear.

"The final piece is apparently in place, so it's time for us to play our part," the old man announced as the bird took off yet again, flying off in the same direction as Raven had walked off to. "Ragnar will want to know that his great prize is about to be stolen from right under his nose."

Then the old man picked up his staff and began hobbling back towards the village below. The silent guardian however refused to move, his gaze still locked on where Raven had wandered off. The old man only managed a few steps before noticing that his erstwhile compatriot refused to follow.

"It's too late for regrets now, my good sir. You are the Gods' property, body and soul, and you obey their commands in all matters."

Still he did not move.

"Remember your destiny here. But most importantly, remember hers, and why we must not interfere in the coming months," there was an edge of warning in the old man's voice now, his posture straightening as if rejuvenated by unseen forces. The guardian still said nothing, but he finally turned away and followed after the old man.

"Worry not, she has survived far worse. This will merely be the next step on her journey," whether the old man was looking to assure him or simply state facts, no one could say. Not like the guardian showed any signs of caring either way as he walked back towards the village.

All things considered, it really was a beautiful night. Cloudless skies that allowed the stars to shine down upon a calm and quiet forest undisturbed by storms and violence at the moment. They even lucked out as the great northern lights shone above them in the sky. It was a sight that they could really appreciate from the glade Raven had found, and in which they were both seated in.

"Not something you see every day," Raven murmured as she gently nudged the girl still glued to her side, coaxing her gaze skyward. Even behind the terror, Raven could see the wonder in her eyes. This short trip outside the village was already worth it as far as Raven was concerned, just from that look alone.

Of course, this would only be a temporary reprieve, because then it would be back inside. Back into the world of insane daemon-worshipers. Idly, she glanced at the surrounding foliage, her mind already weighing the odds of just making a run for it. Don't be stupid. The odds of surviving that are miniscule.

And yet beating the odds was something she was an old hand at. But then, this was no longer about just herself. She carefully peeked at the girl next to her, finding her still transfixed by the display in the sky. A frown appeared on Raven's face as she considered what would happen to this poor girl if Raven ran now.

"That has always been a problem with heroes, more concerned about the innocent than about themselves," a voice that Raven had not heard in quite a while now taunted from behind, and she became as stiff as a board even as she struggled not to turn her head around. Ignore him. Just ignore him and he'll go away.

"Tsk, tsk. You've already tried that before, Raven. I'm not going anywhere," Slade continued. Grinding her teeth, Raven resolutely kept her gaze locked forward. At her side, the girl remained blissfully unaware.

"Piece of advice, child: get rid of these silly notions about saving the innocent. No such thing exist here," here, Raven came dangerously close to giving a scathing retort, but literally bit down until she tasted blood in her mouth to keep quiet.

"In any case, as thrilling as these conversations are, I didn't come for that," Raven could all but feel the sick smile on the man's masked face, and that sent a cold chill down her spine. "I came here to watch the show."

Show? What show? It was a most urgent question that made Raven rise and turn to face Slade, to the great confusion of the girl by her side. But Slade was no longer there, though for once Raven dearly wished he had been there. After all, he was a much more preferable alternative to who was currently leering at her.

"Evening, Godspawn," Rollo greeted with a smile that was all teeth. Fuck, where did he come from? He was supposed to have left already!

"Leave, now," Raven hissed at him as she hurriedly plastered on a look of outrage. Rollo just smiled wider at her as he took a step towards her.

"You know, I usually don't go wandering through the forest like this," he began as he took yet another step towards them. The girl was whimpering again as she did her best to hide behind Raven.

"But for some reason, I felt this irresistible urge to take a stroll around here, even though this is well within the territory of my hated rival. If I was not careful, I could easily be spotted and give him all the reason he needs to butcher me and the few number of bondsmen I kept at my side," another step forward, and now Raven became aware of other Norscans surrounding them on all sides, cutting off all routes of escape.

"Stay back, or suffer the Gods' wrath," Raven snarled out, but she had little faith in what she said. And judging by how Rollo began laughing, so did he.

"On the contrary, this is the Gods' way of showing their favor to me. After all, what would be the odds that I would find you in such a vulnerable state, weak and alone?" yet another step, and Raven worried that her heart would burst by how frantically it was beating even as her eyes desperately looked for a way out.

"You won't get away with this," she spat at him, refusing to show any of her fear. The smile she got in return was downright malicious as he now loomed above her petite frame.

"I already have," he declared. And above them all, hidden amidst the branches, a white bird watched the scene unfold. It watched, and then it smiled.