Register
Help
Saskia Redflame
Saskia scanned the horizon of the frozen tundra, looking for any signs of movement, the braids of her hair blowing with the bitter cold winds from the North. She was the first in a long time to bear the name Redflame. Sonja, her grandmother from many generations before had been the first. Her hair was not the fiery solid red of her grandmother’s, but that of the golden red flame of a campfire. It was her hair that had earned her the name Redflame, long before she had ever shown any skills as an Elementalist.
And even before then it was her temper that often solidified her name. It wasn’t a quick temper that went off like the gust of steam and water from a geyser, but it was that of a slow steady heat from a burning flame. It took awhile to make Saskia angry, but when she was mad, her anger burned hot and steady for days at a time. She had an iron will and nerves of steel, when Saskia set her mind to a task she accomplished it. Her size belied her quickness, Saskia could move like no other through the thickly packed snow or dense forest trees in search of prey. She had thus earned the name Saskia Swiftrunner for her dogged hunt of prey.
Absently, she touched the long piece of leather thong that tied off her braided hair. It may have appeared to be like any other strip of leather that a Norn used to tie back their hair, but this was no ordinary leather. It came from his leather, the soft leather he wore at their wedding celebration. The small strip she tore off with a smile before they had made love. The same small strip that always adorned her hair when it was braided.
She let out a long crystallized breath of air, her mind suddenly flooded with the visions of that day. The argument they had over him leaving with his father, like so many other foolish Norn that hoped to fight the Dragonspawn. Not one of their people had ever returned from such a venture, yet here he was following his father and a group of other men hoping to do what no one had done before.
"Erik." She said as she breathed his name into the cold open air.
Saskia was yet still young by Norn standards, appearing to be about the age of a 20 year old human. She and Erik had only been together a year before he foolishly followed his father to their deaths. Because no Norn considered existing as a frozen mindless husk living, and that's what had become of them. Saskia shivered, at the memory, at the fear of wondering what had happened to the women who were never seen again.
Movement out of the corner of her eye took her immediate attention. It was like that night when they had returned as newly turned minions of the Dragonspawn. Icebrood. It had been subtle movement at first, the Norn who watched the perimeter of their small homestead not at first noticing the movement. Then the horns had sounded and Saskia's heart had leapt into her throat. The one thing that terrified her was fighting what had once been her people and in her heart she knew that the day would come that she would come face to face with Erik.
It had been nearly a week since they had left, and there had been no word. At the sounds of the horns she dressed in her leathers she used for the hunt, supple and soft for quick and easy movement. She slid a pair of daggers into their sheath along her belt and grabbed her staff and slung her wool cloak around her shoulders and bolted out the door. She had feared this moment, knowing that every time a group left to fight the Dragonspawn they returned home to wreak havoc upon their living kin. She had heard the stories from Hoelbrak and although they had never suffered as many raids by the Icebrood, they had happened.
Helga Mandragor tamer had tried to stop her from joining the others on the front line. The older women knew Saskia would not be ready to face Erik as he was now. But the younger Norn had not earned the name Swiftrunner for nothing. Saskia quickly passed even the most athletic of the Norn, her feet seeming to glide over the top of the snow as she bounded out to meet the brood.
"Raven, guide my sight!" Saskia prayed as she summoned a hailstorm of fire.
She had picked out the movement along the tree line, just as she was doing now. But as her eyes confirmed the movement of a mother bear and her cubs, that night it had been the movement of a horde of Icebrood. Spell after spell she cast while others joined in with bow and arrow, when they came upon them, Saskia used her staff as a club, before finally sheathing the staff and removing the daggers from her belt.
Over run, she watched as her fellow Norn transformed into Bear and tore into what used to be what used to be their brothers, fathers and sons. Blood flew and bones cracked, and bellies spilled upon the white snow.
"Bear, grant me..." He pray and words of transformation were cut short as her eyes locked upon the newly turned husk of her husband.
"Erik!" The words came out as he came forward, eyes dead and mouth snarling.
She was frozen, she couldn't move, nor could she raise her weapons to defend herself. A sudden foolish thought entered her mind, if she could just reason with him, get through to him somehow. Her heart and head conflicted by what was true and what she wanted to be true, just enough for Erik's jagged blade to slice through her leather and draw first blood. I deep wound to her abdomen, the shock not enough to wake her senses. She staggered back, holding her hand against the wound, even the blood, her own blood was not enough to wake her from this living nightmare.
The pummel of his sword came down, and all was black. Saskia would have thought for sure she had died if she hadn't waken in the fire lit room of her home. She tried to move, and the firm hands of Helga made her stay put. Her fevered mind heard the rambling words of the older Norn women, the chastising for her foolishness. But somewhere in her fog filled mind, Saskia knew it was concern, concern for her.
Her wounds had healed. She had discovered that the older Norn had fought of the Icebrood and drug her back into the village. Erik was not found amongst the slain brood, it was believed he had retreated with the remaining group back to the Dragonspawn. Saskia had remained quiet, her wounds healing, but the scars of her heart were greater than that of the one across her abdomen. Now she set out to track him down and slay him. Could she bring herself to do so this time?
She watched the mother bear and her cub retreat into the thick of the woods. By the time her wounds had healed and she had gathered the strength emotionally as well as physically she had left the village. Before doing so, she had heard the news from Hoelbrak. A Norn by the name of Eir Stegalkin and her hunting party had defeated the Dragonspawn. Perhaps Erik had been killed by this small warrior group led by a fellow Norn? Even so, Saskia could not leave it to chance, she had to know, because Erik was her responsibility.
Like Jora had hunted down her brother corrupted so long ago, Saskia would do the same of her husband. And if she found him, she would kill him, or die trying. She let out another long breath of air and gathered her wits. Moving softly across the top of the snow, she headed North.
Quote
Share This