After many weeks of relentless sailing, countless port towns, and obligatory raids, they are within sight of Norway's rugged coastline. It is a wonderful sight even though the land is unfamiliar in its rising, rocky mountains which tower in the evening fog and that of its thick layers of glistening ice and sparkling snow blanketing the landscape. The bitter cold of the open sea is soon traded for just as biting crisp air of the land.

Hytham shivers, wrapping his arms around himself in a futile attempt to ward off the evening chill. He thinks it obscene that there is any part of the world so cold, the frigid air biting through his clothes and raising goosebumps. His breath billows in front of his mouth and Hytham wonders if he will ever be warm again.

Vili, noticing Hytham's discomfort, finds his opinion of Norway amusing. A soft chuckle from Vili prompts Hytham to hunch his shoulders and glare at his friend from under his hood. The Viking is not without sympathy however.

"Here," Vili says, voice reassuring as he unclasps his fur mantle and thick, green cloak, "This will help until we can find another for you."

The heavy, warm fur provides an immediate respite as Vili drapes it over Hytham's shoulders. He gratefully pulls the borrowed garment tighter around himself, feeling warmth seep into his body. The scent of fur, a mix of leather and the faint taint of sweat and sea, brings a sense of comfort and camaraderie.

"Thank you, Vili." Hytham expresses sincerely with a smile. Vili returns his smile and clasps his shoulder before moving away to assist with unloading the ship.

Stepping off Sigurd's ship, his boots thud lightly against the weathered boards of the dock. Before him lay Fornburg, Sigurd's homeland, and Hytham's heart quickens, eagerness to explore the new land swirling inside him. However, the relentless sway of the sea still lingers in his limbs, making his first steps on solid ground unsteady, not unlike a newborn foal finding its footing.

He is startled when a hand reaches out to steady him. Hytham glances up to see Basim, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and understanding. Basim's small smile is a comforting anchor in the midst of Hytham's brief disorientation.

"Thank you." Hytham murmures sheepishly, embarrassed yet grateful for the support. Basim nods, his gaze shifting to the bustling scene before them.

Vikings, their broad shoulders and fierce eyes soften by the joy of reunion, gather at the dock to welcome Sigurd home. The air is filled with their hearty laughter and the clamor of voices, a stark contrast to the quiet isolation of the sea.

Hytham takes a moment to absorb his surroundings. The docks are alive with activity; crates of goods are being unloaded, children dart between the legs of the adults, and the scent of salt and fresh pine mingle in the air. Beyond the docks, Fornburg sprawls out with its sturdy wooden structures and winding paths, framed by the looming, snow-capped mountains in the distance.

Basim releases his arm, and Hytham straightens, feeling steadier with each passing moment. The vibrant energy of Fornburg's people and the solid ground beneath his feet chase away the lingering effects of the sea voyage. He exchanges a brief, reassuring glance with Basim before they both turn their attention to the Vikings who have come to greet them.

Hytham stands beside Basim as Sigurd makes quick introductions with the two women who greet him personally. He hears the name "Randvi" and no more as Vili, with great exuberance, barrels past him, arms wide and voice booming.

"Eivor!"

Vili's eyes are alight as he embraces the blonde woman, sweeping her off her feet. To which he is rewarded by a swift punch to the shoulder, though Eivor smiles just as brightly as Vili. Hytham watches the two interact, curious of the shieldmaiden Vili has spoken of often. Vili is smiling warmly and leaning into Eivor's space while she, more reserved, but seemingly just as pleased to see Vili, leans her shoulder into his arm as they walk off the docks.

Suddenly bereft of his steady companion, Hytham lingers on the dock, unsure of himself. He chastises himself as he hurries to fall into step beside Basim and shoves away his whirling thoughts. Instead, Hytham studies the path in front of him, memorizes the people milling about, and observes the foreign buildings that Fornburg is composed of more closely.

As they walk, Hytham's senses are bombarded by the unfamiliar sights and sounds. The scent of spruce mixes with the tang of the sea, and rhythmic hammering of blacksmiths rings out in the distance. Children run amuck in play, darting around adults and animals alike, their laughter an endearing contrast to the rough voices of the drengr. Hardly any two buildings are the same and none are decorated the same, though, repetitive carvings and designs bring them together in unison.

The small group comes to a halt before a great, wooden building. A longhouse, Hytham surmises based on the knowledge passed to him via Vili. It is more ornate and grand than what he was expecting, and Hytham takes in the details with awe. Hardly a plank or shingle is without decorative carvings and the entirety of the structure is painted colorfully.

His attention returns to Sigurd as the Viking greets Styrbjorn, his father. There is a tension between them which grows as Sigurd evidently takes Eivor's side in a matter of contention. Hytham perks up at the mention of Kjotve and he schools his features into something neutral so as not to betray his interest. His heart thumps soundly in his chest as familiar anticipation fills him. This is what they have come for- their mission, their first target in this strange land.

Hytham is disappointed when the matter is set aside in favor of celebrating Sigurd's return home, his shoulders slumping slightly. He overhears Eivor telling Vili the feast will be for him too as the group disbands, and Hytham sees the way his friend swiftly denies the honor. Vili's response is met with irritation that is swiftly covered up by a forced grin and Eivor delivers a quick jab to Vili's shoulder, her playful nature shining through.

She darts away, laughter lingering in her wake, and Hytham tries not to feel left out as Vili moves after her, leaving him behind. Again. His heart sinks as he watches them, their easy camaraderie provoking a bitter pang of exclusion within him.

"Envy is a curious creature."

The voice startles him, and it is only through years of learning under Basim that Hytham manages not to jump out of skin at his mentor's words. He had momentarily forgotten Basim is standing next to him. Presently, Hytham realizes what Basim has said and turns his head sharply to protest, but the words do not leave his tongue before Basim cuts him off.

"We will speak on this matter later," Basim tells him, leaving no room for argument, "For now we will see what Fornburg has to offer."

"Yes, mentor." Hytham dutifully intones. He suppresses the urge to roll his eyes, knowing it would only invite more scrutiny. Instead, he keeps his gaze steady, however, internally he pictures himself rolling his eyes. It is a small act of rebellion, for no one but him to know. Yet, he thinks Basim must know anyway, as his mentor gives him a warning look before walking away.

Hytham's thoughts churn as he trails after Basim, preparation for the night's festivities a blur around him. The revelry feels hollow to him, an outsider, and lost to the turmoil brewing within.

Envy.

The word lingers, a bitter taste on his tongue. He hardly knows Eivor, has briefly put a face to the woman Vili has spoken at length about. Vili's easy camaraderie with her borne from a youth spent together and the attention he so readily gives her, even after years apart, has sparked something ugly inside Hytham. His mind drifts to the moments he has been left behind, overshadowed, long before Vili or the Hidden Ones came into his life.

He clenches his fists behind his back, nails digging into his palms. It is not just envy, Hytham realizes, but a deep-seated fear of being alone, cast aside for something or someone better. The revelation shames him.

Basim's presence is both a comfort and a challenge. The mentor he respects deeply also sees through him with unnerving clarity, often stripping away the defenses Hytham has so carefully constructed. As they walk, Hytham prepares himself for the inevitable lecture and the questions that will force him to confront his own insecurities.

The sounds of celebration grow louder as they explore Fornburg. Music and laughter fill the air, a stark contrast to Hytham's dour mood. He forces himself to take in the sights, the vibrant colors and lively faces, attempting to find something else to focus on. Hytham is determined to not let his personal feelings cloud his judgment, nor compromise his mission.

He will not fail his mentor.

A/N: Uh, ahaha. Jealousy go brr? I hope this doesn't make Hytham seem petty and rather elaborates his thought process going forward.