AnN: This is a loosely based Vikings fic, dealing with original characters as well as setting. If this offends you, feel free to skip!

ANA

King Cyneric's rise to power was not a pleasant one. He became known as the advisor to the king who ruled before, a kind and fair man who cared for his people, of wealth or not. Years of prosperity came to a screeching end when that king had perished. It was rumored that Cyneric was responsible for his poisoning, but whatever the reason; he was the first of the vultures to pick at his lord's remains. Cyneric manipulated those far and wide to join him, using fear and violence to bend others to his will. In the beginning, Cyneric played the role of his former king, giving bread to those who had none. It did not take long for his true colors to show. For many years, he spent locked in the comforts of his fortress south of these lands. The poorer villages scattered along the outskirts were left to deal with little resources, and an awful drought that destroyed their crop and soil. Most perished and Cyneric turned a blind eye to the suffering of those beneath him.

Ana had been born of such a village; it rested on the outskirts of forest and a large body of water that led into the greater ocean pass. Greenery and rivers continued south for many miles; eventually, the terrain turned rougher, which led to the eroded mountains that protected Cyneric's domain. The village was small, and relied on fishing when the crop became desolate. They were a close knit group, whom helped one another to survive during the rougher winter seasons. With their faith and resilience, they managed to survive when others had not. Even so, everyday life was a struggle for most.

"I swear to the gods Erik, if you make me spill a drop of this stew, you'll be in big trouble," Anna snapped after minutes of having a raggedy, knitted doll shoved in her face.

The fair haired boy frowned, "You're no fun anymore. We used to play together all the time." His words were soft as he crawled up to sit on the wooden table, watching as the young woman next to him stirred a large pot. He inhaled the aroma and squealed in anticipation.

The girl raised a brow and couldn't help but smirk, "I'm not a child anymore, Erik. I'm a married woman now; things cannot be what they once were." She could not bear to see the child's sadness, so she tickled him until he burst with laughter. "I will always be your sister, remember that," she reminded him as she ruffled his hair.

"Is it ready yet?"

Ana sighed at the child's impatience; "Not quite, Mother spent all morning preparing it. I told her I would watch it while she brought in Abigail," she began, referring the only livestock they had left; a spotted goat that whose meat was useless, but served a purpose in providing milk.

"I can go and fetch her for you?"

"Go on ahead, Erik. If you see Papa, tell him that I cannot stay much longer. If he can manage to tear himself away from his work for a moment," she teased, smacking the boy on the rump playfully, before he rushed out the door. His laughter carried on for a few moments after he left.

Ana's eighteenth name day had recently passed; her brother was born years before her. He was a child still, born the night of a heavy rainstorm. Ana remembered it well, as she had helped her mother raise him over the years. Her mother had always tired and was unwell for most of her adult life, but she was still beautiful in her own way. Her contributions were always limited, which left some of the chores to Ana. She didn't mind helping, her father could not do it all on his own. Years of hard labor and aging had taken a toll on him; his movements strained and his face, wrinkled and ashy. Despite their struggles, her family seemed to be able to get by year after year.

The time seemed to idle. There was only so many times that she could cut the pieces of bread, or check on the stew. When it had finished, Ana removed it from flame and let it simmer. Surely, she would have heard something by now? She expected Erik to come rushing back in, or her father to wash up for supper. When she could no longer wait, Ana went outside, leaving the security of their tiny home to find the area eerily quiet. She walked past the linens that hung upon rope, left unattended, as well as the wash bucket filled with cold water. Something wasn't right, so she continued on, hollering the names of her brother, mother, father and even her husband. There was only silence, and not a soul in sight. It was truly a strange sight, in a village that was so small.

She continued on, to find her father gone from the field he had been working in; Abigail still out to pasture. The little pond she would have expected to find Erik playing in had not one child. Now, she felt her heart begin to pound in her chest, and she panicked. What on earth is happening? Instead of walking, Ana found herself picking up the pace, turning to a light jog. Rushing to the small cabin that she had called home for the past year, her husband Godric was nowhere to be found. She searched each room and called for him, but got no reply.

It was then that she heard a faint sound, out in the distance. It was soft, but piercing enough to make her skin crawl and body flinch. Her heart dropped in her chest as she recognized an awful scream and consumed in a paralyzing fear.

Now Ana was running, following the screams that followed, growing louder by the passing second. In her panic, she did not see anything blocking her path. She fell to the ground, covered in dirt and a dark, crimson liquid. She glanced to her left to find a crumpled body of a man on the ground, lifeless, in a pool of his own blood. She screeched in fear and fought the bile that rose to her throat. Rushing to her feet, she could not focus on the sight for long. In the distance, what she saw frightened her above all else. She could feel the color draining from her face, and the hair on her arms stand tall.

She stared for a long time, trying to comprehend the events that were unfolding before her. Strange men poured from the forest like beasts, wearing strange furs and garb, wielding axes and heavy blades. Fire had caught some of the brush which spooked a horse. They came like a tidal wave, cutting down all those who opposed them, all of the weak men who tried to fight back with nothing more than farming tools to protect them. Some gathered the younger, compliant men, binding them with rope along with the sobbing women whom cradled their children and elderly. Others pillaged homes, most likely searching for livestock, not knowing they wouldn't find much. Some had taken to the younger girls, forcing them inside; she shuddered to think what would happen to them.

She couldn't help the tears that fell from her cheeks, what had they done to deserve such a punishment? Hadn't they all suffered enough? It was a scene of bloodshed and carnage, a convincing living hell. Her thoughts came to her family, had they found a safe place to hide? She prayed for their sakes that they had. She took a few steps forward despite her instincts telling her to turn and run. Something caught her eye; a piece of fabric that she recognized. It was a woolen tunic, worn by a man she knew well. She had sewn it for him the past winter.

Two men had pulled away from the group, throwing a much smaller man to the ground. He appeared helpless, like a child, at their complete mercy. It appeared as though the man tried to fight back, and that was when the stranger threw the first punch. In that moment, Ana pitied him, until she caught a glimpse of his face, bloodied and dirtied, her eyes widened.

"Papa…"

She let out a hoarse cry as her heart nearly stopped in her chest. If she didn't step forward, they were going to kill him, she was sure of it. The bony, elder man was no match for these intruders. Despite her better judgment, her feet seemed to move for her, sprinting forward even though she too was terrified. All the while, her only concern was for her father and to spare him the cruel end that so many others were sure to meet.