Chapter 5: The Day of Wolves

"I see the dead everywhere, bodies lying in pools of blood, both Burmecian and Alexandrian. Arrows and slash wounds riddled them. In the skies above Melda Arch, I remember seeing the Hilda Garde III facing the Prima Vista. We were fighting beneath their shadows, and Zidane was there trying to help us fight Demetrius's retinue. I told him to run, it was not his fight. I was glad he listened, but I hope he got to Queen Garnet in time…"

-Freya Crescent-

Freya stirred from her sleep and opened her eyes slowly. Her mouth felt dry and her head was throbbing with a dull pain. The sleep she had felt like it lasted only a few hours and she felt like lying down again. Forcing herself up, Freya stretched herself and looked around. The environment seemed unfamiliar to her at first, but as her mind slowly sobered up, the Burmecian realised that she was still in the longhouse. The whole place was vacant and the tables were cleaned up save for a wooden mug of water that was placed near where she had slept. Dying embers from the firepit still glowed softly but gave off no heat that could warm her up. Fortunately, she still had the fur coat that Harald gave her. Her hat was on the floor next to her sleeping spot, but she just left it there and went on her way.

After drinking the mug of water, Freya slowly stumbled out of the longhouse and stretched herself even more. She tried to recall what had happened last night and remembered only eating some really delicious meat and the retelling of her life back on Gaia to a group of warriors who seemed to enjoy her tales of adventures and sorrow. They had asked her questions but none of them stuck to her memory. The next thing she remembered was the mead tasting really good, and then it made her mouth a silent 'Oh' as she realised what happened after that. She had only just met these people and she had already let her guard down. How unbecoming of a dragon knight, she chided herself mentally.

With a newfound stubbornness, Freya fought the dull pain in her head as she made her way to the river. The streets were mostly empty save for a few housewives going about their chores. Most walked past her with curious glances but said nothing nor greeted her in any manner. Unfazed, she disregarded them and continued shuffling towards the direction of the river. She found a pier behind the marketplace located not too far from the longhouse. Some merchants were busying themselves with setting up their wares to sell and took no notice of the strange anthropomorphic rat that walked by. At the pier, Freya knelt down next to the water and scooped a handful of it. Closing her eyes and holding her breath, she splashed the water onto her face. Almost immediately, the dull headache went away as the cold water flushed any stupor that was left in her body.

She did this two more times before pausing to look at her own reflection in the river. What stared back was a tired-looking yet pretty face that had once captivated the heart of another Burmecian. Her white hair had covered her eyes, so she gently pushed them aside to reveal brilliant green eyes with bags underneath that seemed to contain a lifetime of sleepless nights, sorrows, and heartaches. Fratley always did say she looked better without her hat, but she felt rather vulnerable without it like it was an indispensable part of her. Water dripped from her face in slow drops but some felt oddly warm.

Wiping her face with her sleeve, Freya stood up and turned to walk back towards the longhouse. However, she found her path blocked by a familiar figure in the form of an old man with a walking stick. "Odin," she greeted softly.

"How was your first day?" he asked while walking towards her slowly.

"Full of questions," she answered curtly.

The Allfather nodded his head slowly and stood by her. "I would imagine. Huginn and Muninn told me about the situation here, but I trust that you're capable enough to sort it out." Freya grunted in acknowledgement but said nothing else. "They also brought me news from Burmecia."

This time, Freya's ears perked up. "Burmecia…have they returned?"

"Not yet," Odin replied while shaking his head. "But they can communicate to me through their aspects," he explained. When Freya looked at him with a confused expression, he added, "Those two ghostly copies of them you saw back in the house, those are their aspects. They can speak to me no matter where they are. I'm sure you have questions, yes?"

"How is Sir Fratley? Have they seen him?" Freya asked almost immediately.

"They have, although he's in a rather sorry state. He's still mourning your death, and it would be hard to convince a grieving loved one to believe you're still alive somewhere. It will take time for him to come to terms with it before he can find it in himself to hope again."

"I expected as much," Freya said with a sad sigh. "How my heart yearns and aches for him, but to be separated by a barrier in existence is like a cruelty dealt by fate itself. At times, I always wondered if our suffering as a race was caused by our past sins, and that we were fated to disappear into the night."

"Only if you believe it to be the fate of Burmecians," Odin said while patting her shoulder. "Take courage, Freya Crescent, hold your spear high and proud, and fight. Whether it be for redemption or vengeance, let no grievance hold you back." He looked at her and gave her a kind smile. "Your friends will eventually need your strength, the survival of your people depends on it."

Freya maintained her silence as she watched Odin walk towards the marketplace. She had wanted to ask about Demetrius, but the question had left her mind before it left her lips. It did not matter to her, her former commander was exactly the reason why she was in this predicament in the first place. The less she had to think about him, the less distracted she would be. The thought of home invigorated her however, and a sense of determination flooded her heart. She will finish this pointless quest and earn her way home no matter the cost. If it meant fighting the gods themselves, by the King of Burmecia she would try.

"By the way, Freya," he called out and drew her attention. "Have you seen Loki by any chance?"

"Who?"

Odin did not answer her at first, but after a bit of contemplating, he waved his hand dismissively and said, "Just someone I need to talk to," he said cryptically. "Don't worry about it, just matters pertaining to the gods."

Before the Burmecian could ask more about it, Odin turned his back on her and went on his way. Unsure of what to make of it, Freya decided not to pursue him and made her way back to the longhouse. By that time, more and more people had started filling the streets. The men got busy with clearing the streets of corpses and repairing the walls and houses. Most looked at her with silent regard, and the few that greeted her were the ones she remembered seeing at the longhouse feast last night. However, none had stopped to chat with her as they immediately went back to their respective tasks.

While walking up the stairs to the longhouse, Freya saw Harald coming out of the entrance. He seemed to be looking around for someone, and when he saw the Burmecian coming up, he waved a hand at her. "Had a good rest?" he asked when she approached him.

"It's about as good as it gets," Freya replied. She rubbed her head and asked, "I didn't do anything stupid, did I?"

"I must admit, I have not seen anyone down so much mead in one sitting," Harald said with an impressed smile. "My father's huskarl Sigurd is known to be a heavy drinker, but the fact you outdrank him by five mugs without throwing up, I can't help but be impressed," he added while his smile became a grin.

Freya groaned and held her head in dismay. "I really made a fool of myself," she muttered while pushing past Harald and entered into the longhouse.

"Lighten up, it's all good fun," he said as he followed her.

"Right," she said dismissively. Picking up her hat from the floor and wearing it, she turned to Harald and said, "I'm going out to search for clues. Please help me thank your father for the hospitality, I really appreciate it."

"Where're you headed?" Harald asked with arms crossed.

"That's a good question that I will figure out eventually," Freya replied without hesitation. "Now, where did I put the spear?" she mumbled while looking around.

Harald noticed her spear was leaning in the wall by the entrance and brought it to her. "Going out without a plan is going to get you killed. I'm sure that's the last thing you would want."

"What would you suggest then?" Freya asked as she took the ancient spear from him.

"I know of a völva that lives not too far from here, she can see the fates of mortals. Perhaps she can give us a clue as to where to go next," Harald said with a rather eager smile.

Freya took off the fur coat she was wearing and held it out to the man. "Us? You say that like you wanted to come along with me."

"Keep the coat, I have another with me," Harald said as he held up a hand. "And yes, I'm coming along. I feel you'll need all the help you can get."

"I appreciate you trying to help, Harald, but this is my fight, my journey. I don't belong in this world, and I would rather not impose any inconvenience to the people here. I alone will be responsible for my own actions and destiny," said the Burmecian. She slipped on the fur coat and nodded. "Thank you for the coat though."

"It's no inconvenience really. I got nothing to do here anyway, so I may as well be of some help. Would you rather waste time figuring out where to go?" Harald asked as the two walked out of the hall.

Freya stopped and sighed softly. "I suppose not," she said. She stopped in the middle of the stairs and looked over her shoulder at the man. "How far away is this völva?" she asked.

"Far enough that you'd need a horse to get there. I can get a spare one for you," said Harald.

"You seem pretty sure about it. Are you sure you're not stealing someone's horse?" Freya asked while they continued down the stairs and reached the streets.

"I would never stoop that low."

Freya looked at him suspiciously before shaking her head. It felt to her like Harald was trying to avoid something but she felt little need to inquire any further. There were more pressing matters she had to worry about. Silently, both walked down the stairs and made their way onto the streets where activity had started picking up. The town's menfolk were packing carts with bodies of draugrs and transporting them to a funeral pyre that they had hastily started outside of the town. Black smoke billowed from the pyre as flames licked and ate hungrily into the rotting corpses of the long deceased, ensuring they would never again trouble the living.

The stables were a short walk away, located just beyond the walls and by the river. It was not particularly large but the place was well-kept and suffered no harm from the attack the day before. Most of the stalls were empty but Freya could see three being occupied. She only ever saw horses once or twice and had not ridden one before. Her dragon knight training included chocobo riding, but Freya doubted the same training would apply to the four-legged creatures. There was an elderly man who was feeding one of the horses and had his back turned to Freya and Harald. Only when Harald called out a greeting did the man stop and turned around.

The man's left eye was blinded and had a scar run down the left side of his face. His good eye regarded the two for a bit before he nodded at them. "Master Harald, and you must be Freya Crescent."

"A pleasure," Freya returned the nod respectfully.

"This is Bjorn, our stablemaster. If you ever need a quality horse, look no further," Harald said.

"You're not planning on leaving town again, are you, boy?" the stablemaster asked while pointing a finger at him. "You did it again yesterday."

Freya saw Harald roll his eyes and cross his arms. "Had I not been there, those women could've been killed, and I wouldn't have met Freya. It had to be fate."

"Fate or not, boy, your father gave explicit orders not to leave town while he's away."

"This again," Harald muttered in frustration.

"Don't let me stop you, Master Harald. I am not the keeper of the king's son. However, don't expect me to provide any mounts for you," Bjorn proclaimed sternly. Looking at Freya, his expression softened. "I assume you're here for a horse?" he asked while ignoring Harald's angry looks.

"Yes, it would certainly help me with my journey," Freya answered. "However, I have neither the money nor experience with riding one."

"Do not worry about the payment. Thanks to your actions yesterday, you saved the town. These horses I have raised as my own, but I'm fine with parting with one," said the stablemaster as he gestured to the five horses. "I can teach you the basics of riding but you'll learn quicker when you ride more often."

"Right," Freya remarked with a quick nod.

"Well, go pick one," said Bjorn.

Freya never mastered chocobo riding and often preferred to travel via cable car or airship. They were so much more convenient after all and did not have an attitude. She still remembered when she was 15 and her first training session had her paired with a red chocobo that seemed to avoid her a lot and squawked angrily at her whenever she got close. Demetrius had been kind enough to switch it out for another less temperamental one, but the ordeal left her wary of riding chocobos. It did not really matter in the end because Burmecia did away with the cavalry force and freed the birds. A rare few stuck around for a bit before eventually leaving the city for good.

The way the horses avoided her felt oddly familiar, yet one of them stood out as being rather curious rather than apprehensive of her presence. It had a white coat, pink nose, and brilliant blue eyes that seemed to stare empathetically into her own green ones. Freya reached out to stroke its mane, and it stood there obediently while attempting to nuzzle her hand. The Burmecian could not help but smile slightly at the gesture and allowed it to indulge itself. Bjorn raised an eyebrow and cautiously approached the horse, but it turned away from him instead.

"How strange," Bjorn mused. "I've never seen Sporna act so friendly towards people before. Do you know something about him that I don't?"

"I only just arrived yesterday, there's no way I would know anything about him," Freya replied flatly. "Why's he named Sporna anyway?" she asked, her tone now slightly more inquisitive.

Bjorn crossed his arms and said, "Folks don't like his whiteness, it's undesirable to them. They spurn him, and in return, he spurns others. You must really be good with animals to get him to like you so quickly." He grabbed a saddle and harness from a nearby shelf and approached Sporna slowly. At first, the horse had actively attempted to avoid him but with a little assurance from the stablemaster, Sporna eventually stood still and allowed himself to be saddled. With the bit securely in the horse's mouth, Bjorn looked at Freya and said, "Let's start with the basics then."

Sometime around noon, the glow of the bright sun had started to blanket the land with some semblance of warmth although it was not enough to dispel the lingering cold. Not too far from a stone path that headed northwards, a herd of reindeer were grazing on grass that were partially unburied by the snow. Within the treelines on the opposite side of the road, some wolves watched the herd patiently from the shadows. Slowly but surely, they moved closer to the edge of the treeline while making sure not to make any loud noises.

One of the reindeer's ears twitched as it heard something in the distance and looked towards the direction of the sound. The wolves stopped in their tracks and looked towards the same direction as their prey did. At first, it was only the distant sound of clopping hooves, but as the source of the sound got closer, it was punctuated by two voices shouting at each other. Soon, a white horse rushed past them, scaring away the herd of reindeer and making the wolves back further into the shadows of the trees. As the horse bolted past them, the rider fell onto the ground with a thud but managed to avoid knocking her head. She laid in the snow for a few seconds before picking herself up slowly and rubbing her bruised back.

Another rider rode past her to chase down the errant horse, managing to catch it by the reins and leading it back to the other. "You really need to be more careful," Harald said.

"I only just learnt how to ride a horse a few hours ago, you know," Freya shot back while getting onto Sporna's back slowly. As soon as she settled down on the saddle, a sudden surge of pain caused her to massage her back and wince. "Gods…that really hurt."

"Let's take it slow, no use aggravating your back further. We're halfway to our destination, should be there before sunset" he said.

It took a while but she eventually nodded her head, "Yeah, let's do that." Looking at Harald, Freya asked, "How do I get him to move again?"

"And you said you didn't need my help," Harald said with a teasing smile.

"Don't push it," she said with a slightly annoyed expression.

Obliging, the young man took the lead and the two of them rode on northwards. As soon as they left the area, one of the wolves emerged from the forest and stared at the direction they went. It was larger than the rest of the pack at about the size of a horse, and had eyes with an outer red lining with a brilliant orange middle. The other wolves followed it silently with their bodies in slightly hunched gaits and their tails hung low. They looked at their leader with submissive expressions but the large wolf paid them no heed. After observing for a bit longer, it grunted and followed the trail that Freya and Harald took. Without any hesitation, the rest of the pack followed suit and ignored the reindeer herd.

The rest of the ride north was uneventful save for a few close encounters with wandering draugrs which the two easily dispatched. Unlike the undead from the day before, these ambled about in no particular direction and attacked anything that ran by them including the wildlife. Freya had opted to dismount and fight them on foot, but her companion used his mount to run them down and trample their heads underfoot. As midday gave way to early evening, the duo stopped for a rest atop a knoll where there was an abundance of wild strawberry bushes but not a lot of fruits to harvest. Still, Freya enjoyed the sweet taste and pocketed a few of them for later use. Scanning her surroundings, she noticed a house in the distance on lower ground which sat next to several barrows and cairns. It looked the same as any other houses they came across but there were some tall objects located in front of the house.

Turning to Harald, she asked while gesturing towards the house, "Is that our quarry?"

"Aye, it is," Harald replied with a nod. "They say she has close connections with the Nornir and is so accurate with her prophecies that the jarls and kings of other kingdoms paid a lot of gold for her services."

"I'm guessing that includes your father?"

"Yes, my father included," Harald muttered as he crossed his arms. "You heard what Bjorn said, about me not being allowed to leave Tamdrup. My father had sought her for a prophecy of me when I was born," he said with a slight frown.

Freya straightened herself and looked at him. "If I may be allowed to guess, he was concerned for your safety?"

"Yes…but that's only half of the reason," he answered softly.

"So, what's the other half then?"

Harald shrugged, "Can't remember," he said quickly. "We're all tied to some kind of fate that we can't escape from. Sometimes, it makes you wonder what is the point of being who we are if our futures are predetermined. Not something you really look forward to."

"I suppose that makes sense," remarked Freya while popping another strawberry into her mouth.

"Do you believe in fate, Freya?"

"Fate?" Freya pondered and shook her head. "I suppose to a certain degree, but it doesn't define me. My lover, Sir Fratley, used to tell me to look forward to the future," she said wistfully.

Harald snorted and said, "Must be nice to not be constrained by it."

Freya nodded silently but she felt rather unsatisfied for some reason that eluded her. As she placed her hands on her hips and bent backwards to relieve herself of the dull ache in her back, the Burmecian noticed something odd in the sky. She averted her eyes from the sun and instead focused her attention towards what looked like a dark streak trailing behind it. It looked like some dark clouds that resembled the front half of a wolf, but Freya frowned when she noticed the formations that looked like a wolf's front paws were moving and its maw was seen snapping hungrily at the blazing orb of light. A bright orange star-like glow emitted from the 'eye' of the wolf spectre which somehow made her feel rather uncomfortable.

Freya turned to look at her traveling companion. He too followed her gaze and was shielding his eyes with a hand. "Sköll," he said seriously. "It is said that when Ragnarök comes, he will catch up with Söl and devour her."

"That's properly grim. And this Ragnarök, is it gonna happen?"

"Eventually, or so the seers say."

Freya was about to say something, but she held her tongue when her ears picked up a series of distant guttural growls. For a moment, she thought that the apparition in the sky was making the sounds. As the sounds got closer and closer, however, it became apparent that they were coming from around them. She drew her spear at the same time Harald drew his sword. Looking beside her, Freya looked at him and noticed that he was looking frantically around for the source. It did not take him long to point towards a cluster of trees not far from the knoll they stood on. Several eyes could be seen staring at them, but the pair that caught their attention was the one that stood above the rest.

It was the first to emerge from the shadows and what confronted the duo was a gigantic wolf with blazing orange eyes, and when Freya stared into it, she felt the same chill as she did when looking at the eyes of Sköll. It regarded her in long silence, its gaze captivating her while also causing her to grip her spear tighter until her knuckles started hurting. There was pure malice and unholy intelligence behind the eyes, and while it did not speak, Freya felt like it was peering deeper and deeper into her psyche. While she was distracted by the giant wolf, Harald noticed that the rest of the wolf pack had emerged and started forming a circle around the knoll. He yelled and holler at them in an attempt to scare the wolves but none of it seemed to faze them. They moved and acted in such a mechanical manner that they almost resemble commandeered puppets.

The whinnies of the increasingly distressed horses broke Freya out of her trance and in the split second she took her eyes off of the creature, the Burmecian immediately drew her backup sword and flung it straight at its head. However, she had not expected the giant wolf to sidestep slightly and allow the weapon to fly past it. "What is this thing?" she said in a loud whisper through laboured breaths.

"I don't know," Harald responded, his heart racing within his chest. "I've seen large wolves before, but they were not this big!"

Their breaths started condensing in the increasingly cold air and they could see the breaths from the other wolves as well as they panted hungrily, all except the giant wolf. Instead, it was breathing out air that was cold and tainted with the overwhelming stench of death. The giant wolf gave a guttural snarl and the pack started running up the knoll towards Freya and Harald. Immediately, the horses fled down the knoll and leapt over some of the wolves. However, they were promptly ignored. The wolf that reached the top first was quickly given a swift and hard roundhouse kick to the face by the Burmecian, sending it tumbling back down onto lower ground. Her companion hacked off the snout of the wolf that came closest to him, but despite leaking blood all over the ground, it continued snapping what remained of its jaws at him as if it was immune to the pain.

Several more rushed at them and despite inflicting wounds that would kill any other ordinary creature, the wolves got back onto their feet while vital blood poured from gouges and deep lacerations. The grass and bushes were increasingly stained with crimson, yet they kept rushing up the knoll without any regards. More than once, Freya had used Cherry Blossom and Dragon's Crest to strike down the undying wolves, but they did little else except knock them out for a few seconds. Harald attempted to dismember and decapitate them but his sword could not cut through their necks and limbs, and it felt as if he had tried to cut through several layers of hardened leather.

While the battle went on, Freya was quick to notice the giant wolf had not made any moves, instead opted to stay out of the fight and look on intently. After leaping sideways to avoid one of the wolves that had pounced at her, she launched herself at it with her speartip pointed directly at one of its eyes. Right before her ancient spear made contact with the creature, it opened its maw at such unnatural speeds that Freya did not even notice it until it caught her body within a vice-like bite. The escutcheon on her coat took the brunt of the bite but it had cracked in multiple places. The lower teeth had pierced through the fur coat and ripped holes through her red coat and into her back, causing her to cry out in pain.

Harald heard her cry and immediately bashed his way past the other wolves and sprinted towards the giant creature. With a deep and throaty war cry, the young man raised his sword while running, and when he reached the legs of the giant wolf, he struck left leg five times with all his strength. The pain caused the wolf to drop Freya and she landed on her feet right before she hit the ground. Willing herself to ignore the burning pain in her back, the Burmecian leapt up and drove her spear right into the left eye of the giant wolf. It roared and thrashed around in a frenzy while Freya attempted to hang on to it. The other wolves had turned around to aid their leader but Harald roared a challenge back at them and kept them back by swinging his weapon at them.

"Hel take you!" he bellowed in rage, blood soaking his armour and dripping from his sword.

Freya managed to free her spear from the eyes of the thrashing beast but in the process, she had ripped it out of its socket too. Blood from the gaping socket sprayed onto her body, temporarily blurring her vision as some of it got into her eyes. The body of the giant wolf crumpled unceremoniously onto the ground, but she did not stop to check on it. She ran towards Harald while trying to wipe the blood from her eyes with her sleeves but it did her no good. Still, she ran as fast as she could despite the discomfort.

"Harald, let's leave!" she cried out while running towards him.

Harald had just managed to tackle one of the wolves to the ground and slit its neck with a knife. He let go of it and ran after Freya, and none of the other wolves chased them down. The warrior passed his companion a cloth for her to clean her face as the two made a mad dash for their horses who, thankfully, remained in the general vicinity of the knoll they once stood on. They hazard a glance behind them to see if they were being chased, and seeing that none of them had followed the two, they got onto their horses and quickly rode off.

"I'll lead the way," Harald said while looking at the sky. The moon was already visible in the sky, and much like the sun, the spectre of a wolf could be seen chasing it as well. Unlike the sun chaser, this one had no orange glow in its eye but it ran after its prey like a silent predator, barely opening its maw to snap at the silver orb. "By the gods, I hope I don't have to face any of those again."

Freya wanted to say something, but her heart nearly stopped when she heard rapid heavy thuds coming from behind them. Turning her head around, she gasped as she saw the giant beast sprinting after them with the wounded wolf pack trailing behind it. Where the eye was missing, it was now replaced by a blazing demonic orange glow, much like the glow emitted from Sköll. A trail of blood continued to leak from the socket and dripped onto the ground. Harald saw it too, and his face had whitened further as the creature quickly closed the distance between them.

"Faster!" Freya cried out as she held onto her hat.

The house they were racing towards slowly got bigger as they got closer, but the giant wolf was still persistent in its chase. At one point, it got close enough to Freya that she could feel its icy cold breath on her neck. Only a sudden sharp right turn by Sporna shook the beast, albeit temporarily, as it overshot its target and plowed into some trees. Even the trees did little to slow the creature as its momentum and weight uprooted and toppled them over. However, it bought the two enough time to get closer to the house.

Freya had rode in front of Harald at that point and she was about to slow Sporna down when he heard her companion yelp loudly. She spun her horse around and saw that the giant wolf had caught a hold of Harald's fur cape. His horse already had veered off wildly and did not stop running. Gritting her teeth, she drew her spear and levelled its chest, the eyeball of the creature still attached to the spearhead. Freya commanded her mount to charge, and he did so without hesitation. It ran down the wolf pack under its hooves and did not stop, even when one of them managed to bite one of his legs. The Burmecian was about to drive the spear into its heart when the giant wolf let go of Harald and used its head to knock both her and her horse onto the ground. Harald tried to get up and run but it pinned him down with one of its paws.

The other wolves surrounded Freya quickly and snapped their jaws at her while she tried to fend them away from her and Sporna. However, a wolf had caught a hold of her spear in its mouth while the rest bit into her arms and pinned her to the ground as well. One of them stood on her chest, its mouth and body dripping blood from the fight they had earlier. It bared its fangs at her and glared at her neck. Freya struggled to free her limbs but they were too strong for her to shake off.

"An end…to you," she heard a bestial and throaty voice coming from the giant wolf.

Both it and the wolf standing on Freya opened their maws to bite their prey in the neck, but they stopped when the sound of chanting was heard. It came from the house, and when they turned to look at the source, they saw a young woman with an oak staff fire a salvo of fireballs at the wolves. Each struck their targets dead on, causing them to let go of Freya and Harald. Another salvo erupted from the staff, but the wolves managed to dodge them. The woman held out a hand and pointed at the giant wolf.

"Leave, spawn of Fenrir, this is not your time. Leave," she said sternly.

"Do not presume to command me, woman!" the wolf snarled. "I will not tolerate such arrogance!" Her retort came in the form of a blueish-purple bolt of magic that knocked the giant wolf onto the ground when the bolt struck it in its head. It got back up quickly and growled at the woman. "I will devour you when the sky turns to blood," it said in a threatening tone before running away.

"When it comes to that, so be it," the woman said to herself.

The wolves had retreated along with its leader, leaving Harald and Freya recovering from the ordeal. As the woman walked over to them, the young man ran over to the Burmecian and helped her get back onto her feet. "Are you alright?" Harald asked.

"Considering what we've been through, I'm alright, relatively speaking," Freya replied while running a hand on her back. She winced as her fingers ran over the wounds. "Damn, now it hurts even more."

"Harald, son of Halfdan I presume?" the woman asked as she looked at him.

"Aye, that's me," he nodded in acknowledgement.

Turning to Freya, she raised an eyebrow at her. "This one's a curious case. I can sense Odin's mark on her, no doubt his chosen, but one whose fate is unbound."

"And you are?" Freya asked.

"My name is Runa, and you?"

"I'm Freya Crescent."

"Freya Crescent…an interesting name for one who doesn't look like she's from around here. With many others, I can see their futures. You, on the other hand, all I see is nothingness. Very curious indeed," Runa pondered thoughtfully while beckoning them to follow her.

"Is that a bad thing?" Harald asked with a look of concern.

"That would depend on the person," she answered furtively.

Freya looked back at the direction the wolves took and asked. "I heard you call him the spawn of Fenrir. Is this Fenrir a god? How'd you defeat it when our weapons did little against it?"

"Fenrir isn't a god, but he was born of one. Such creatures are beyond the iron and steel of mortal weapons, but magic can harm them to a certain degree," Runa said as she opened the door to her house. "I wouldn't go so far as to call it 'defeating' him however."

"Then why did he run away when he could've just killed us?" Freya asked.

"Because killing a seeress is bad omen," Runa said with a crooked smile. "Come, have a rest in my abode. You may ask your questions later."