The next couple of days following the tragic encounter with Eyarr's family, we stayed in the woods. He gave me space as I struggled to process everything that had gone down. I had been fearful of him, with a new understanding of what he was capable of, and a deep, primal instinct was terrified of that.

Any hope I'd had that his tension with his family could've been resolved peacefully was gone, and now I had to accept this side of him that he was keeping away.

I tried imagining things from his perspective, but it was difficult for me to fathom the kind of life he had to live just to survive. I'd been very fortunate to live a decently privileged life, even though I rarely ever thought of myself above my own people. That being said, I still knew I was, in a societal way.

I wanted to clear my head by making a visit to the beach, but the mere thought of revisiting the site where Eyarr murdered his father sent chills down my spine. I did not want to relive that horror.

Being near any body of water had always brought a source of comfort, especially growing up. Some of my earliest memories were of my parents wading in the water with me and playing with Ocean. But for the first time in my life, I could not bring myself to go near the beach. It was so confusing for me, and I didn't know how to overcome it.

The water will heal you. The voice in my head kept saying.

But the barrier between myself and the water was that beach. I was afraid of seeing the flashing image of blood staining the land.

I forced myself to leave the campsite in an attempt to overcome the crushing anxiety. I stopped on the edge where the forest met the beach, staring out into the small fjord, towering cliffs surrounding the land. My gaze landed on the opening between two cliffs that led out into the sea. It seemed so far away…

I was broken from my thoughts of Riptide gently nudging my back. His big yellow eyes watched me carefully, attempting to understand the conflicting emotions that I myself didn't understand.

"Oh Riptide…" I whined, sitting down, defeated. A rush of emotion overcame me, tears rolling down my cheeks uncontrollably. The want to face this new fear was palpable, but I just… couldn't. I didn't know what was holding me back.

As I wallowed in my own self-pity, Riptide kept gently pushing me towards the beach. He knew what I should do, but he just couldn't quite grasp my struggle. He warbled in a concerned tone, nudging my cheek with his nose.

"It's not that easy…" I attempted.

"What's not that easy?" Eyarr interrupted, startling me.

"Gods above, Eyarr. Don't sneak up like that!" I snapped.

"Sorry, sorry. Why're you sitting here?" I huffed quietly, crossing my arms.

"Something I'm trying to figure out myself."

"... Is there a way I can help?" I stared at him from my peripheral vision, my frustration building up again.

It was his fault I was afraid.

With an audible sigh, he took a spot next to me at a respectful distance, recognizing that I was not happy with him.

"Laeli." He turned to me, "Laeli, I need you to listen."

"What about?" Another sigh. He pushed his hair out of his face, his gaze shifted from the opening in the fjord to the partly cloudy sky above us.

"I… I know you're upset about what happened here… and I don't blame you for being upset. It wasn't my intention for you to get involved. That being said, there's something you need to understand about this world. I know you're already aware of how different it is from the one you were raised in. There's more that you haven't seen and that I hope you never have to. And… you need to be prepared for the violence that comes with the Viking way of life. New Berk may be different, but that's one island. There's still a whole archipelago out there, and the mainland and those places are nowhere near as peaceful as New Berk is."

"Being a Viking is already rough and tumble as it is, but bring dragons into the mix, and it becomes bloodier. It's a fight for survival, and as the world continues to change, you have to learn to change with it. And unfortunately, with change… comes violence and the trauma that follows it. And what you saw here… is nothing compared to what happens out there."

"So… what're you trying to tell me?" He grimaced slightly, interlocking his fingers.

"It's not going to get any easier. You have to learn to expect the worst and hope for the best. Sometimes you cannot avoid the violence. I've had to learn that the hard way on my own for years, but I can at least offer moral and emotional support to you. It won't be easy, but I will do what I can to help. You just have to let me."

Together, we sat at the edge of the forest, taking in the sounds of nature around us, from the soft lapping of water on the beach to the calls of birds in the distance and a gentle breeze rustling through the trees and bushes. Cliffire and Riptide also lounged quietly with us, with the occasional wing movement.

It was quiet for a while, permitting myself to think, contemplating Eyarr's words. And the more I thought about it, I began to understand that he was right.

Even with all the privileges and opportunities I'd grown up with, I was still sheltered—with little exposure to the violence of the world. Granted, there were very few conflicts that Motunui faced with other villages from surrounding islands, so there wasn't much of a chance to witness anything.

And now, in a different world, filled with people with different lifestyles, who were more accustomed to bloodshed. It was something I would, unfortunately, have to get used to in whatever capacity.

We did not leave our camp that night, at least not for the mainland. I was not in the mindset to fly anywhere right now, no matter how encouraging Eyarr was trying to be. The spot where his family's house used to stand was a pile of burnt wood, smoke still lingering. But his family was long gone. I did not bother asking what became of them after I fled into the woods, I really didn't want to know.

What Eyarr deemed important now was this new mission of his to return these items that his parents had stolen many years ago to their rightful people. He showed me the Sami drum, which was made of animal skin with a wooden and bone frame. Various symbols were painted on the surface, and I could figure out what some were depicting.

Sun, moon, stars, and a boat. But the other symbols remained foreign.

The other item he had was a small golden bowl, the outside edge decorated with various swirling symbols interconnected with each other. But on one particular section was an intricately designed tree, lines connecting the roots to the branches.

"What's that tree?" I inquired, pointing to the trunk, tracing my finger over the metallic surface.

"I don't know the traditional word, but I know it as "the Tree of Life." It's one of the most sacred symbols. In my travels, long before I met you, I learned that the Celtics worship a specific type of tree. The oak. And this is their main depiction of it. They believe oaks are the basis of wisdom."

"I see…"

"The tree is something my culture has in common with the Celts. We have our own tree of life, called Yggdrasil."

"Yg.. igdrasil?" He chuckled quietly at my pronunciation attempt.

"Close. Eehg-"

"Eehg…"

"Eehg-dra-"

"Eehg-dra…"

"Eehg-dra-sil. Try it."

"Eegh-tra-sil… no, Eehg-dra-sil!"

"There you go! It's a weird word, I know."

"Yggdrasil…" I repeated again, feeling a tad more confident with such a word rolling over my tongue.

Putting the golden bowl back into Cliffire's saddlebag, Eyarr then retrieved a fallen branch and rejoined me. He then began to doodle in the sand, and I realized he was drawing the Tree of life.

He reveled in sharing the mythos behind Yggdrasil, and I did have a new appreciation for the stories of the gods from his perspective. He continued telling me stories as we started a fire for the night, and well after night fell, there was a sudden glow of green light from overhead.

Craning my neck up, chills coursed through my body upon witnessing brilliant ribbons of green and blue light streaking across the inky-black sky.

"Northern lights."

"They're incredible…" I breathed out, "There's nothing like them back home."

"Some of us think it's the Bïfrost… the bridge from our world of Midgard to Asgard."

"And what do others think?"

"That they're the reflections of the Valkyrie's shields… taking fallen warriors to Valhalla."

I turned to him, taking in the dreamlike gaze he bore, the soft ambient glow of the lights above giving him an otherworldly look.

"Valhalla… that's the goal, right?" A slow nod, gaze still locked on the sky.

"One way or another, yes."