Blake sat on Alma's lap as the village prepared another festival. She watched as the Fire Dancers moved around and shook their sticks with rattles on them. Her excitement seemed to be taken note of because one of the dancers invited her over. Alma nodded in approval and Blake's hands were gently grabbed in the dancer's. A couple of other village children were invited as well and small masks were put on them. Their movements were clumsy, but nobody seemed to bat an eye because of their age. Children of the underground were often taught the culture at an early age so that they appreciated it when they grew older.
Ragnar sat next to Alma and she leaned her head against his shoulder. A small, blissful smile was on her face as she watched her daughter dance her little heart out. Her gaze turned to her right and she spotted her sons talking with their friends. Her gaze slid back to Blake as she scampered up to Alma and held up a small trinket. It was a tiny skull with runes etched into it, a good luck charm that was well known around the village.
She laughed gently as she put Blake on her lap and looked at the small stone the Monster bestowed upon her. Much to the surprise of the Elders, it didn't burn her like it did everyone else. She just described it as a warm feeling and Alma wondered why the Ancient gave her the stone. After thinking about it for a minute, she decided to let it go and slid her index fingers into Blake's hands. She handed Blake to Ragnar and he sat her on his lap, watching the festival with a calm expression.
He looked down when she wiggled out of his lap and scampered over to her brothers. She raised her hands and made a grabbing motion. When Bjorn ignored her, she just puffed her cheeks and went to the girl he was talking to, raising her hands at her. She cooed as she picked Blake up and the little Faunus gave a smug smile at her brother before sticking her tongue out at him. She bounced up and down rhythmically while talking to Bjorn, all while Blake just played with her hair. She started to braid it into a loose plait and tucked it over her shoulder, giving it a few pats and sticking a small gem inside for good luck.
She wiggled her way out of the older girl's grasp while a group came over and seemed to admire the hairstyle. They all looked at Blake then back at the hairstyle in slight awe before turning back to her, seeing her grab a few sticks with fish on them while a wooden bowl full of scallops that they had gotten from another tribe. There were dozens of tribes that worshipped the Monster, each one had their own culture depending on the part of the world they lived in, the ones closest to the village could farm aquatic animals. The great lake they lived near stretched for miles upon miles and was known to house dangerous aquatic creatures as well.
The bodies of those tribes, while still resembling many others, had more aquatic features. On their forearms looked what appeared to be fins of some sorts and their skin seemed to be more smooth and flexible. They secreted mucus to help them swim better in the water and the young would often learn how to swim through their elders. It wasn't uncommon to see a small toddler swimming with ease and no form of floatation device. The only issue was to keep them from wandering too far from their parents. lest they get eaten by one of the many dangerous creatures that lurked below the waves.
Blake scampered back to her parents and handed them the fish while she climbed onto her mother's lap and ate the scallops. She idly listened to the music as she ate and gazed at the stone the Ancient gave her. Many would often ask her what it felt like, since it apparently didn't burn her at all, and she would often describe it like a warm and cozy feeling. Although, it would give her... glimpses of things.
Her dreams were strange and she would often describe them as her being on top of a mountain. Below her were gargantuan creatures that roamed around, fighting one another with reckless abandon. She would tell the elders that there were two beings that she considered to be a great evil; one basked in light while the other basked in darkness. During those conversations, her eyes would change. They'd go from that warm amber color to an unsettling black and red. Her voice would bleed into a sense of utter hatred, filled with so much venom that for once... Alma didn't recognize her daughter.
It scared her. It terrified her to see Blake be so bloodthirsty at such a young age. The bloodlust was only curbed by her love for her family and the underground; she was an obedient and loving child nonetheless. The only thing that was of concern was her penchant for violence and the fact that she was naturally sneaky. It wasn't uncommon to find her hiding in her father's bag when he would go on hunting expeditions or playing hide and seek with Alma despite the latter not wishing to play.
"Papa, can I go hunting with you?" Blake asked.
"When you are of age." He answered as he opened his mouth and Blake popped a scallop into it. Sharing food with family wasn't a big deal to her. She had as much as a ravenous appetite as anyone else down here.
"Ok." She mumbled and chewed on a scallop. She reached up and popped a scallop into Alma's mouth before biting into one of the fish.
"Let her come this time." Alma said.
"No." He said. His face held the same dour expression as always, but he could sense his wife and daughter's mood.
"You know she's going to keep asking." Alma said.
"My answer will still be the same." He responded.
"But Bjorn and Elias went early." Blake blubbered as she pointed at her brothers. The three looked at them surrounded by their friends and followers.
"She does have a point." Alma said lightly.
"Hrrrrrnnn." He grunted and thought about letting his sons go hunting a few years before they were supposed to. It was when he was still new to being a chieftain, back when his very own father was still alive.
"You didn't go with her to the lake, so you owe it to her." Alma said.
He just looked at her then looked at Blake and pressed his lips together tightly. There were several reasons as to why he didn't want to bring her along, but he wouldn't tell her that. Not anytime soon, anyways. It was too dangerous for her to go out; she wasn't like them. She couldn't heal at an accelerated pace like her brothers and her position as the Child of Prophecy had unfortunately cemented her place on where she stood in the village. While he wanted what was best for her, it was unfortunately the opposite of what she wanted.
"Not this time..." He sighed and stood up. He didn't want to look at Blake's disappointed face or Alma's expression sadden a bit.
"N-Next time?" Blake asked quietly. The lack of answer from her father made her feline ears press against the top of her skull. She could only watch his retreating figure disappear in the crowd. A small part of her felt some unknown feeling, it wasn't resentment or anything but a sense of hurt.
"He'll take you out one day." Alma promised.
"Promise?" Blake asked hopefully.
"Promise." Alma nodded and gently placed her head against Blake's, picking the young Faunus' mood up slightly. She stood up and held Blake's hand as they made their way back to the hut, with the thoughts of future promises being kept.
The days and nights blended together and two years eventually passed. Blake had slowly been introduced to what she had to do as the Child of Prophecy. Every day she was to wake up earlier than the others and go to the hut that belonged to the shaman priestess and learn about the rituals and culture of the underground. She had to wear specific clothing and drink a small amount of the Ancient's blood mixed in with herbs. It was both a way to learn the effects it had on Blake and what she saw.
At first, it hurt to the point where she would pass out, but it eventually faded with time and she had learned to ignore the pain altogether. Her and the priestess would weave baskets together and read the ancient texts to learn more about culture and rituals that they were to perform. Some lessons were more boring than others but Blake took her duties more seriously than others. Compared to the other younglings that were learning under the priestess, Blake's lessons were more difficult and longer. Some days she would have to stay the whole day and went home tired.
After her lessons, she would go to her uncle's hut to learn how to fight. The large tribesman found it useful because despite her status as the chosen one, there would be some that didn't care about her status and would want to fight her regardless. The first night she came home with bruises on her tiny body, her parents had been furious but her uncle must've said something that shut them up immediately. Blake couldn't hear what was said but the look on their faces confused her; why did they look so shameful. That night her father didn't speak to her very much while her mother just would say everything was fine and leave it at that.
That was her schedule for the most part. Wake up, go to her lessons with the priestess, train with her uncle, have a small break to try and talk with her family, finish off the day with a small prayer, then go home. She started to pray every night before dinner and bed, much to the ire of her brothers. Her parents would only glance at each other in worry while she had her eyes closed.
Ragnar still didn't take her hunting despite it all. When she saw other children going to learn how to hunt with their parents, she would always look at him. He would just promise that they would go the next time but it never came. He was always gone to the surface on hunting expeditions with her brothers or dealing with his duties as the chieftain. Eventually, she slowly stopped asking despite her mother reassuring her that one day it would come.
Dinners were different as time went by. Where she used to be excited about the next day, she started to slowly draw into herself. She would just listen to her brothers talk about the beast they slayed and how they gained a new injury. Her mother would laugh and her father would have a proud look on his face while she would just idly listen to them and eat. After listening to them talk about her day, they would ask about hers and she would just shrug and tell them about her duties. Before any of them could ask if she was alright, she would already be preparing for her nightly prayers and go to sleep.
After a while, the priestess and the elders made the collective decision to enter the temple. She could barely contain her excitement at first, but after being scolded, she had toned it down and quietly went along with them. The inside of the temple was a lot more spacious than what was initially expected and a long walkway was seen. She could see the wear and tear from the Ancient's many trips in and out of his domain. Two rivers of lava were seen on both sides of the walkway and at the end was a large, circular area that had the Ancient. He rested soundly, his rumbles bouncing off the walls and his body seemed to absorb a majority of the heat somehow.
She stopped when she was right in front of him along with the others. There was only a few times in her life did she ever feel so small and it was next to this divine being. A muffled sound made her turn around to see two tribesmen dragging some bloody and battered individuals with a bag over their heads. Their white armor was stained red and the design was foreign to her, but they were eventually brought in front of her. The back of their knees were kicked and they were forced to kneel in front of her and the bags were ripped off.
They looked around frantically before freezing at the sight of her and saying something in a language she didn't understand. All she did was look at them before perking up when the priestess seemed to slither around them and knelt next to her. An item wrapped in a soft cloth was gently held in front of her and Blake looked at the older woman then slowly started to unwrap it to reveal a tomahawk made from the Ancient. A series of carefully carved designs were on the handle and several gemstones adorned it near the head. The head itself was made from the claws of the Ancient, granting them the odd ability to continuously remain sharp no matter how much use it went through.
She looked up at the priestess in awe and she nodded at Blake, speaking a few words to her and gesturing towards the two captured individuals. They panicked when they realized their current situation and started to struggle; yet they couldn't escape the grasp of their captors. Their pleas, cries, and even threats went ignored as Blake approached them with her new tool. The one on the right snapped at her aggressively and she picked him to be her first kill.
With one quick, yet powerful, strike and a small grunt of exertion, she beheaded the man. Blood sprayed in the air and squirted from the stump, covering her clothes and the tomahawk. His head tumbled nearby and went still as he blinked once before the light in his eyes faded. The second one struggled violently and pleaded for her life, but Blake simply hummed as she raised the weapon high and brought it down, splitting the woman's head in half and killing her instantly.
The priestess knelt near Blake and observed the bodies, placing her hands on the young Faunus' shoulders and whispering her congratulations on her first sacrificial ritual. Even the temple guards nodded in approval before departing and leaving the two behind with the bodies. She then told Blake what to do before departing herself but not before offering one last look of approval to the girl.
Blake herself hummed as she began to take the equipment off the bodies and tossing them into the lava. The clothing was left on and while she was doing so, the Monster woke up. He rose up and blinked tiredly before his attention was caught to the sound of humming; it was small but nice in a sense. It reminded him of his time in the egg, surrounded by nothing but warmth and comfort. He looked down to see Blake carving the bodies into organized pieces for easier consumption.
The scent of the blood rushing through her veins was sweet, it would be so easy to simply snap his jaws around her little frame. Warm blood coating his teeth and the sweet taste of her innards would be a one in a million treat. All of it would be so easy...
Yet, he didn't.
If he did that then her calming voice would go away and the annoying voice of the others would replace it. So he let her live, this little bird that sang her song seemed to provide the same level of comfort as the egg that used to house his fragile body. He bent down to her level and stared at her; when she looked back, he saw that familiar spirit of the untamed wild in her eyes. The same as with him and for several moments, she just stared, as she was captivated by his wild beauty. She eventually looked away but after he made several rumbles, she quickly figured out he must've enjoyed her humming.
So she continued to hum, sitting cross-legged across from him and watching in awe as he ate the corpses. They tasted like every other surface dweller he's consumed in the past, but her voice seemed to make it better. She wiped her cheek and smeared some of the warm blood on her face before resting her chin on her hands and closing her eyes. There was no telling how long it had been, somewhere between minutes and hours, she didn't care. She had found herself feeling more free than what she's been these last few years.
Finding comfort in her god was the closest thing she had to the feeling of freedom that she's been experiencing in her dreams.
After the Monster went back to his sleeping area, he gave her one last look and closed his eyes to return to slumbering. She just sent a small prayer before standing up and swiping her weapon off the ground. That humming was replaced by soft singing as she lightly skipped out of the temple, content with letting her god sleep peacefully. His peace was her reason for being here and she realized this now.
Bjorn knew something was wrong with his sister the moment she entered their hut. She looked too clean, had something wrapped in cloth, and the scent of blood was covered by the scent of incense. Her eyes was mainly what gave it away, she had that same frenzied look whenever she caught the scent of blood. Like a shark honing in on a bleeding seal and patiently waiting for the moment to strike. She would always start chewing the joint of her index finger whenever the topic of killing was brought up and more often than not, he had to make sure Elias didn't open his mouth.
He didn't hate his sister, but he didn't feel the same connection as his parents did with her. His brother shared the same feeling; in the beginning neither one liked her since they felt like she was replacing their deceased baby brother. Over the years they began to tolerate her presence and even learned how to care for her. Despite their mother wanting the three of them to get closer, they just couldn't. Elias had openly stated that he would've preferred his deceased brother over her, something that earned him a smack upside the head.
Bjorn didn't say those things and he refrained from doing so to avoid the wrath from his parents. There were times when he found her to be a nuisance; the way she trailed after them constantly to try and spend time with, or when she thought something was interesting and tried to show them. Others saw it as endearing and would constantly tease the brothers about it but they didn't live with her. They didn't have to deal with her stupid questions early in the morning or how she tried to rattle off about her day. How she looked with those up with those hopeful eyes to see if her family shared the same amount of excitement as her.
He saw that light in her eyes slowly start to fade with time. The day she had cemented her place in the village and began her schedule of boring teachings and rituals, and training with their uncle. How she started off eager to tell how her day went before quietly accepting that him and his brother had more interesting tales to tell. The great beasts they slayed and the way they seemed to draw in attention with these grand stories was more interesting than her current series of events.
Eventually, she just drew into herself and remained silent for the most part. She woke up and left before they were awake and only returned for dinner. Whenever he saw her, she was in the corner of the hut reading about some more of their culture. It was the only thing she could really do nowadays and he started to notice how she didn't ask to go hunting anymore. Other children her age were already learning how to hunt small animals and he doesn't even think that Blake's ever been on one yet. His father told him why and while he didn't necessarily agree, he could only deny her when she asked him to take her. He didn't like seeing that look of disappointment in her eyes or her ears press against her skull.
Even Alma had said she wouldn't take her unfortunately, at least not until she was old enough.
He was taken out of his thoughts when she walked up to him and stared at him.
"I'm not taking you hunting, Blake." He said.
"You're in front of my chest." She responded and he blinked before looking and seeing that he was leaning against her chest. All of them had personal chests that no one was allowed to snoop through. Blake usually kept useless items such as shells, trinkets, and dolls in there.
"What is that?" He asked.
"A gift." She answered as she put the tomahawk in the chest and shut it.
"From who?" He narrowed his eyes. As cruel as it sounded, his sister didn't have any friends. Most of the children usually avoided her despite her best efforts to make friends and several of her peers were jealous of her secretly.
"Priestess Svana." She answered. Out of everyone in the whole village, Svana was probably the closest thing Blake had to a friend. She taught Blake everything she knew about their culture; while she had a no nonsense attitude most of the time, she was patient and fair. Blake often vented to her and the mystical woman would listen quietly, offering her advice and curbing a majority of Blake's bloodlust. She hated the lessons at first but over time she began to enjoy them and would often seek solace from her.
"What is it?" He asked as he knelt near her.
"A gift... what do you care?" She asked suddenly.
"What?" He blinked at her sudden question. Usually she would ask how his day was or if he wanted to spend time with her, but this particular question didn't sit right with him.
"What do you care about the things I get. You never did before." She practically hissed out. Her sudden shift in mood threw him off guard and he instinctively took a defensive stance. Her eyes started to bleed into a red color and he could see the whirlwind of contempt that had been festering for years in them.
"..." He just remained quiet and stared at her as he watched her force her emotions in check.
"Just... leave me alone. I have to attend to my evening ritual..." She said quietly. Her stance turned unsure and she looked smaller than before. She didn't look him in the eyes as she headed towards the entrance. The flap opened before she could and she bumped into Ragnar's leg, making her look up at him. A large cut of a beast's leg was slung over his shoulder and he knelt down to look at her.
"Are you okay?" He asked.
"I'm okay, father." She lied and started to walk past him but he gently gripped her arm. There was the rare look of worry written on his face and it made her have of bubble of something unpleasant pop momentarily.
"If there's something wrong then-" He began.
"I have to attend to my evening ritual." She said suddenly before tugging her arm out. He barely got the chance to say another word before she was out of the hut and towards the gathering location.
Ragnar just sighed and set the leg on a nearby hook before sitting down on his bed. He rubbed his face stressfully and exhaled into his hands the more he thought about Blake now. She was six years old now and how much she's changed within the last few years. Whereas other children were preparing for their first hunt, she was stuck dealing with her duties. Her schedule was busy nowadays and it didn't take a genius to tell that she wasn't happy on certain days. She didn't have the luxury of playing out in the wild with the others or learning how to hunt like every child.
There were sometimes where he would catch a certain look on her face before she noticed him and wiped it away with practiced ease. The first sign of her sudden change in behavior was when she started to refer to Alma and him as mother and father. Not mama or papa like she's always done in the past. It rubbed everyone the wrong way for some reason, she didn't even call her brothers by their names anymore.
He just hung the leg on a hook and gave his son a glance before stepping out and walking through the village. Many were beginning to retreat into their huts for the night and several children were still outside, playing with various trinkets or reenacting certain events for fun. Their imagination was often their greatest asset when it came to hunting, it encouraged creative thinking.
It took longer than what he expected, but he eventually found Blake in a small open area in one of the corners of the village. She drew a large circle with charcoal and filled it with designs. Her tiny hands were caked black and her eyes were laser focused on making sure there wasn't even a single mistake in it. Nearby was a jar filled with blood and another one full of herbs. He took a step forward but a hand gripped his shoulder and his teeth bared but he stopped when he turned around and saw Svana looking up at him.
Her face was covered in chalk and designs ran vertically down her cheeks. A large predator skull sat on top of her head and covered her eyes while multiple animal furs hung over her shoulders. A belt of bones clattered together around her waist but despite that, she was able to move like a shadow. Her staff had two skulls dangling off the top and a vial of blood was seen embedded in the middle. Due to her position in the village, not many trifled with her. It wasn't uncommon for a particularly rowdy youngster to find themself facing a string of bad luck.
"Let her finish." She said.
"It's time for dinner. She needs to return home." He said as he tugged his arm free but she just gripped his shoulder again, this time more forcefully.
"This is important to her as it is necessary." She said.
"..." He just remained silent as he watched Blake finish the circle and dip her hand in the jar of blood. She took two fingers and began to draw symbols around the circle before going to the jar of herbs and grabbing a handful and spreading them around. After she was done, she sat down in the middle and clasped her hands together, closing her eyes and saying several phrases.
"A bright soul she is." She said.
"Why is she doing it by herself?" He asked.
"She is the only student I have." She answered.
Out of all of her disciples, Blake was probably the only one she found passionate about her duties. She had decided to pay extra attention to her after catching her practicing a dance for one of the rituals. It was late at night and seeing that determined expression made Svana realize that Blake wasn't doing it to fulfill a prophecy, but because she genuinely wanted to do this.
"What? What about the others?" He asked.
"Useless, all of them. No more useful than sustenance for the belly of a beast. I do not have the time nor the patience to deal with such whelps." She rolled her eyes. If there was something that everyone knew about the woman, it was that she didn't have the patience for insolence.
"Their parents? What did they have to say about your choice?" He asked.
"Nothing pleasant. They can try again in the future, but I'm not taking any more students for now. Blake is enough." She said.
"..." He just looked at her then back at Blake. She seemed to be finishing up her little ritual and the symbols she drew in blood seemed to glow.
"Besides... she's performed a clean sacrifice in front of the Ancient." Svana said as she practically glided past him.
His pupils shrunk in fury and he glared at the woman, his teeth bared violently and his knuckles popped loudly. Just before he could jump, Blake turned around and looked up at Svana before spotting him, making him calm down almost immediately. Her attention was turned back to the older woman as she knelt down in front of Blake.
"How was it?" She asked.
"A little clumsy, child. Yet you managed to successfully perform it. Remember to use your second and third fingers to draw the symbols. It creates a more even and delicate design." Svana instructed. Her voice was firm but not unkind.
"Did you know the Ancient loves the sound of humming and singing?" Blake asked as she watched Svana draw a smaller circle.
"Oh?" Svana looked in interest. Usually when they presented the sacrifices to the Monster, they would simply take the equipment off and organize the bodies in an even line. To hear that she not only stayed but even sang made her curious in some ways.
"He seems to rumble more while I was carving the bodies. Do you think he enjoys the song of death like me?" Blake asked as she tapped the dirt to demonstrate what she experienced.
"He could. What do you feel when you bask in his presence?" Svana asked and Blake hummed for a few moments in thought before answering.
"Freedom." She answered and the priestess nodded, as if that was the right answer.
"I believe you should have this then." Svana said as she reached behind her and grabbed something from the inside of her cloak. It was a staff that was curved on the ends; on one end was a horned animal skull with the Ancient's insignia while on the other end was a bladed tip that glowed with power. Blood ran through it and pulsed with energy every few seconds. It was larger than Blake but she would eventually grow into it.
"A-Are you sure?" Blake asked in a quiet, yet hopeful tone.
"I am. Many of my pupils in the past have tried to earn this right but none of ever succeeded in acquiring it." Svana said as she gently handed the staff to Blake, who accepted it with upmost gratitude.
"Thank you!" The little girl flashed her a smile, more genuine than what she's been able to give within the last few years. There was so much joy in her voice that she momentarily forgot about the negative feelings she's been feeling these recent days. She seemed to forget that Svana wasn't doing this to fill some prophecy but to remind Blake of how there would always be someone to help her.
"Of course. Now return home, child." She said and Blake nodded before running home, almost tripping on her feet in the process. She held the staff close to her body as if it was the most precious thing in the world.
Ragnar just watched the exchange in silence. A deep rooted rage seemed to bubble in his system the longer he stared at the woman and it took every ounce of willpower to not remove her head right then and there. It seemed his rage was felt because she looked at him from over her shoulder but simply shook her head.
"You manipulated her." He seethed quietly.
"Oh please. I did no such thing. You would know if I was manipulating her." She said lightly but the smoke seeping from the corners of his mouth made her expression sour a bit.
"..." A small snarl escaped his lips and she just shook her head.
"You don't take her hunting while other children are preparing for their first by themselves, you barely seem to acknowledge her at dinner yet give your sons all of your attention, you haven't come to even one of her ritual practices, and you missed one of the biggest events of her life. Her first sacrifice ritual. And for what? To go hunting with Bjorn once again?" She asked as she walked towards the temple while he followed.
"I will take her when she is ready." He looked away.
"That's the problem, she isn't. She doesn't even know the first step to hunting. You've kept her locked up for so long that she's lost the will to hunt anymore. Forcing her to even try to learn now that she's found her passion is only going to backfire." She said as she rattled her staff and tapped the tip against the ground. The guards moved to the side and the two of them began to walk towards the Monster's slumbering place.
"So what will you have me do?" He asked. He noticed the look in Blake's eyes nowadays. Whenever he talked with her, she always had that look; like she was expecting the answer she didn't want to hear. She already mentally prepared herself for disappointment and usually just accepted it quietly. She stopped asking for things from him because she knew that she wouldn't get it. Alma would usually try her hardest to get Blake to understand that she couldn't do some things or get some of the things despite her brothers getting them.
"Pay attention to her more, you fool. It's best to try and fix your mistakes before it's too late. A child experiences no love is one that grows to hate the world and will watch it burn to feel warmth." She said.
"She does experience love." He responded instantly. Blake was still loved despite her nature, she was young and didn't understand that not everything revolved around her. That people had other things to do than just be near her all day.
"That's not what she feels. You may have not noticed it, but she is lonely. Your sons barely interact with her and Alma treats her like she is the most fragile thing in the world. Yet, she seems to try and earn your approval in the end. I bet you haven't even told her about the surface." She said, looking over her shoulder to see him looking away.
"..." He just remained quiet while she bristled.
"The longer you wait to tell her the things that everyone knows about or spend time with her, the more damage you will do. She will begin to resent you and not only you, but everyone else down here, will lose her forever. There is a hellish bloodlust that taints her heart and you can only keep it buried for so long before it breaks free of its chains. You want to chastise me for allowing her to perform that ritual, but-" She stopped when he held his hand up.
"I understand. You don't need to say any more." He said.
"She's more monstrous than any of us, Ragnar. It's best to keep her bloodlust under control. All it will take is one incident and she'll turn from the Child of Prophecy into the one that ends us all." She said as she went up to the sleeping Monster and planted a hand against one of his large tusks. Even just a mere touch was enough to send vibrations through her body. A small phrase was uttered and she took her hand off it then began to walk away.
He took one last look at the Monster before leaving himself while thinking about what to do with Blake. How was he supposed to explain that he's been having nightmares of bringing her out into the wild for hunting and watching her get ripped apart. That she couldn't heal like her brothers and everyone else in the village. There was no way to tell her at this age that the reason the kids her age avoided her was because they considered her a bad omen despite her trying to create a bond with them. How Alma was terrified of losing her after seeing her fall one day and get a bloody nose then collapsing; realizing how fragile she actually was.
He was proud of his children in different ways; Bjorn and Elias for their many successful hunts and countless deeds. Blake with her curiosity and never-ending love for them all. He wasn't good at expressing himself at times and he had to admit that he was paying more attention to them than her. The only problem was that he never seemed to realize how much time had passed. How that spark seemed to fade from her eyes as the days and nights blended together. How she went from always trying to tell the others about her day to merely eating in silence. She used to love hearing about the stories, now he couldn't even get her to stop her prayer to tell one.
He doubted she wanted to hear one about the underground culture... she's heard them all.
After seeing her accept the staff and darting home, he realized how little time he spent with her within the last two years. She didn't dart up to him to excitedly rattle off while showing him, she didn't look at him with the same level of adoration as before. Instead, she looked at him with a gaze of someone who was already expecting disappointment or disregard.
A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he exited the temple and began to make his way back to the hut. It took longer than what he expected but by the time he finally got back, dinner was already being eaten. His sons were digging into their pieces while Alma finished hers and was cleaning up.
Blake... she was already sleeping in her bed. The other three told him that she simply ate a small portion and decided to go to bed. She had been eating less and less and Alma was worried. All Blake would say was that she would eat more next time and a subtle flash of regret filled Ragnar's soul. The same words he constantly told her were being used in a different situation.
He sat down next to his wife and glanced at Blake. They both just looked at their daughter and decided to try and be better to her in the upcoming days. At least before it was too late...