Chapter 5

Two years ago, Soul ID #00A7239V92 replaced the soul of the old Nathaniel Starfollower. He spent seven days in bed, assimilating the memories of the former host of the body. His new mother, Freya nursed him back to health. After recovering, he immediately changed his lifestyle. He maintained his hygiene, and he wanted to build muscles to fit in, but something prevented him from doing that. Unconsciously, his last draw, The Legendary Title, forced him to do everything perfectly and elegantly. Although the restrictions were harsh, they were equally rewarding. The fast learner perk allowed him to learn things very quickly. He then spent a lot of time reading about History, Geography, architecture, and the different forms of art. Needless to say, Erak wasn't too pleased with his changes. Every time Erak would argue with Freya, he would blend into the background and let the argument pass through safely.

Although these last two years did feel wasted, he did gather a lot of knowledge about the locals and their culture. Skandia, the kingdom he was located in, had a lot of resemblance to Modern-Day Norway. Its culture was quite similar to the Viking culture. Some similarities included their brawling style, their love for wine, and their Nordic culture. Skandians had the best naval force in the world. In the cold northern water, they were unrivaled but not necessarily invincible. They could still be taken down by larger ships or pirates in the south. To its southeastern slopes divided by mountains laid several smaller kingdoms of the Gallics. They were weak compared to the other large kingdoms, but they were like a powder keg. If any nation dared to attack them, it could spark a World War since no big kingdom wanted to share a boundary with each other.

To the South of Skandia lay the Arulean Kingdom. Their society was monarchial, with a social structure similar to medieval Europe. They were a medium-sized kingdom, but a very tough opponent to take on. They had a well-developed network of Rangers, specially trained investigators, and Archers who were deadly foes. It was said that each Ranger carried 52 lives on his back since they were so accurate with their shots. This was something which inspired Nate to try and become an archer.

Dismissing his random thoughts, he focused on the situation at hand. Around him, there were twenty-eight more boys gathered in front of him, or more explicitly, avoiding him. And why wouldn't they, Nate was a combination of two things. He looked like a weak person and he was the son of a high-ranking official. Both qualities made the boys around him dislike interacting with him.

'Great,' thought Nathaniel,' It's already the first day and I'm being excluded." Normally, Nate would have skipped such activities, but this was an essential rite of passage for all Skandian boys.

The Brotherbands were a unique training course only possessed by the Skandians. Since Skandians were traditionally seafarers, they had created a training system in which boys were placed in small groups to practice and learn together. Each group was called a Brotherband. Its members would bond as a team while they learned tactics, weapon skills, seamanship, ship handling, and navigation.

Brotherbands replicated the concept of a ship's crew on a small scale. These boys had to work together and trust their companions, sometimes with their lives. Quite often, boys who trained in a brotherband together would be recruited into the same ship's crew and would serve and work and relax together for the rest of their lives. Brotherbands formed bonds and lifelong friendships. They taught their members the value of combining their varying skills to gain an advantage over others.

Since a successful ship's crew required a captain, or skirl, to command it, the brotherband system also developed another vital skill: leadership. Natural leaders tended to stand out during these training exercises. Sometimes, at the beginning of their training, a band would elect its most popular member as leader, but popularity wasn't always the most important part of leadership, and quite often, before the training period was over, that leader would have been replaced by someone else—someone who had shown that he had the necessary confidence and ability to command.

Looking around, Nate observed all the Skandian boys in front of him. In the past week, he talked with the folk of Hallashom and discovered that the boys in front of him could be classified into three groups. The first group was led by Tugsurd. He was the son of the Matiking, the Skandia title for Mighty Warrior. Even though Matikings had little to no political power, they were immensely respected. The unfortunate result was that boys like Tugusurd came out. To put it simply, Tugsurd was a brat inflated with a large ego. The people of Hallashom coddled him with praises since he was the Son of the Matiking. Instead of taking their compliments positively, he began to feel superior. He gathered a group of stronger boys and started to bully those weaker than him. Although it was an act looked down on, it wasn't really a major problem so most adults looked past it.

The next group was Rolland. He was popular but in a good way compared to Tugsurd. He already had some basic knowledge of navigation and sea-faring experience. His cool-headed brain allowed him to make decisions without being rash, something many Skandians lacked. These qualities deemed Rolland to be a popular choice to be a leader and naturally, some Skandian boys followed him hoping to be a part of his crew in the future.

Finally, the last group was the Outcasts. They were just the excluded unpopular boys of Hallashom. Some were excluded because of their annoying personality, some were excluded because of something related to their parents, or that they looked too weak. Nate looked at each of the outcasts. A large six-foot tall giant boy, two bickering twins, three boys who just looked clueless and out of place, and finally an odd duo of a bulky boy and a skinny boy. And finally, Nate himself. It irked him to be considered an outcast, but it was true. In other people's eyes, he was arrogant and refused to be friends with them out of pride, although it was just that he was too busy the past two years.

Hidden, out of sight from the boys, Erak and Sigurd were making observations about them. Sigurd asked," Oberjarl, are you sure you don't want to come out? I'm sure that the boys will be happy to see you."

Erak shook his head," I'm here to observe Nathaniel and Hal. It wouldn't do them any good if I was with them."

Sigurd shrugged," As you wish."

Sigurd stepped onto the makeshift podium and gathered their attention. "All right! All right! Settle down and pay attention!"

There was really no need for either instruction. The twenty-eight boys had been waiting since he arrived for proceedings to commence. He already had their attention and they were already settled down. But the half circle of boys unconsciously shuffled closer to the platform where Sigurd was standing.

"Everybody here?" He looked up, casting his gaze around them. A few boys looked at those on either side of them as if to make sure that they were, in fact, present.

"Sing out if you're not here," he commanded and a nervous laugh ran through the group.

"All right, let's get underway," Sigurd said crisply, after studying them for a few seconds.

Nate nodded with appreciation when he noticed that the instructor was quick at counting everyone and checking if anyone was absent. Sigurd was clearly a professional in this regard.

"Today," Sigurd began, "you're going to be selected into your brotherbands." He paused, then added, "That's in case any of you thought this was the Hallasholm Ladies' Needlework Society. If so, you may leave now."

Again, a nervous ripple of laughter went through the assembled boys.

"First thing we do is select brotherband leaders. Any nominations?"

Predictably, one of Tursgud's followers, standing on his right side, called out Tursgud's name. Sigurd nodded. Like everyone else, he wasn't surprised.

"Tursgud. Seconder?" he demanded.

"Second!" the person standing on the other side of Tursgud called out.

Sigurd had a board with several sheets of parchment clipped to it in his left hand. He made a note on it and glanced up at Tursgud.

"All right. Proposed and seconded. Congratulations, Tursgud."

Tursgud shrugged. The matter had never been in doubt, after all. Congratulations seemed unnecessary.

"Anyone else?" Sigurd looked around the group.

"Rollond!" called a voice. Most of those present weren't surprised at the nomination.

"Second!" someone called before Sigurd had time to ask for a seconder.

"All right. Rollond. Who else?" Sigurd looked around the group of boys but there was a reluctance among them now. Everyone knew that any further captain elected would be competing with Rollond and Tursgud—and their respective groups of friends.

The Brotherbands competed against one another through the training period and there was a lot of prestige involved in being part of the winning band. On the other hand, there was a lot of embarrassment about being the losers. It was a stigma that could cling to you for years to come. Most of the boys present would rather be a member of a winning band—with Tursgud or Rollond as the captain—than captain of their own losing one. Inevitably, the group's failure would be attributed to its leader.

Sigurd cast his glance over them impatiently. "Come on. With these numbers, we really need three teams. Anyone else?"

But there was no reply. Then, impulsively, a well-built boy put his hand up. "Hal!" he yelled.

The brown-haired boy beside him jabbed him in the ribs and said," Shut up Stig!," probably not amused at the notion of the boy nominating him without his consent, but the Stig stubbornly continued to raise his hand.

"Hal who?" Sigurd asked, genuinely puzzled. The sniggering now swelled into laughter. Tugsurd laughed the hardest, as he looked mockingly at Hal.

Stig's face grew redder. "Hal Mikkelson!" he shouted defiantly.

Tugsurd said," You can't be serious," he said. "You're not seriously proposing 'Hal Who' as a team skirl, are you?"

The laughter grew more widespread and Stig's neck and face grew even redder as his anger approached boiling point. He glared at the boys around him.

"What's the big joke?" he demanded.

"I'd say 'Hal Who' is the joke, wouldn't you?" Tursgud said, in an intentionally audible aside to one of his friends.

Hal, eyes down, unwilling to meet anyone's gaze, jabbed his elbow into Stig's ribs.

"Shut up!" he pleaded. "Just let it go and shut up!"

But Stig wouldn't be silenced. His hands bunched into fists and he glared around the circle of grinning faces. "Go on!" he threatened. "Keep laughing and I'll bash your heads in!"

Nate disapproved of Stig's temper mentally. Although Stig was well-built, he definitely would not be able to take on the entire lot without prior training. Nate looked at the instructor to see how he would react, and sure enough, he wasn't disappointed.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Sigurd's voice, trained over the years to carry orders to his crew above the roar of a seastorm, "What the blue blithering blazes do you think this is? We're not in Barneskole here! We're not a bunch of squabbling children! This is Brotherband! This is where you're supposed to learn to act like men! LIKE MEN! UNDERSTOOD!?"

Stig hung his head. His face was still red, but now it was with shame more than anger. Slowly, he lowered the raised fist.

"Sorry, sir," he muttered.

"One more outburst like that," Sigurd warned him, "and you'll be kicked out on your ear! And I'll be happy to do the kicking! Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Stig said in a low voice. He was totally mortified—and terrified at the prospect of being expelled from brotherband training.

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" Sigurd bellowed, so loud that the boys nearest him involuntarily stepped back a pace.

"Yes, sir! Sorry, sir!" Stig said in a louder tone, his eyes still cast down in shame.

Sigurd regarded him for several seconds, then glanced down at his sheet of notes.

"All right. We have a nomination for Hal Mikkelson as our third skirl. Anyone care to second?"

"Are you kidding?" It was Tursgud who spoke, and he followed the question with a short laugh. Again, a few around him sniggered, cutting themselves off quickly as Sigurd's angry gaze swept over them. Tursgud, however, remained defiant, smiling at the instructor.

"You find it amusing, do you?" Sigurd challenged. Tursgud shrugged, unfazed by the question.

"It just doesn't make sense, sir," he said. "He's the son of a slave. He's not even Skandian. He's Araluen."

A few others, emboldened by his stance, muttered agreement.

Sigurd glared at them. "Karina Mikkelswife is a free woman," he told them in a cold voice, leaving no room for disagreement. "And her late husband was a Skandian. He was also a good friend of mine. Bear that in mind when you talk about her. And her son." He glanced back at his notes and a voice, clearly audible, came from the crowd.

"The mongrel."

Sigurd's eyes snapped back up, glaring in the direction from which the unidentified voice had come.

"Who said that?" he demanded. But there was no reply and long seconds passed as he glared at the boys in front of him. Then, realizing he was getting nowhere, he said once more, "Hal Mikkelson has been nominated. Is there a second?"

Nate now stood at the crossroads. He could have chosen to remain silent, but yesterday's conversation replayed in his mind.

"Nathaniel, let's talk for a minute son," said Erak, with a fatherly tone.

Nate knew that look. Whenever Erak wanted something from him, he would start by being as soft as possible. If he accepted, everything would be fine, but if he refused, the powder keg of anger would explode.

Nate stopped writing some simple calculations in his book. This was an old habit of his. To ensure that he would not forget his previous knowledge, he sometimes wrote it down in a book. After all, he had no skill called eidetic memory yet.

"Yes, Father?"

Erak took a deep breath and began to speak," Nathan~, er Nate, I want you to join Hal's brotherband."

"Father, with all due respect, I agree with the notion that Hal Mikkaelson will make a good skirl, but why should I join him? There's also Rolland"

"Really, I thought you would disagree with me," said Erak, numb to the maturity exhibited by his son.

"It makes sense. Hal is a good navigator. His feat of building a ship by himself and designing a revolutionary sail plan makes him qualified to be a skill. But Rolland has similar potential. There's no reason why I can't join his group." said Nate thoughtfully.

"It's a more personal reason. Hal's father was a part of my crew. I would rather you join his crew than Rolland. This is fixed. Consider it as the price for the favor you asked." said Erak, moving onto a more assertive tone.

Back to the present, Nate considered his options. Overall, Hal was definitely a good person to be a leader. He managed to bring together four troublemakers and made a semi-finished crew out of them. The only downside was that Tugsurd was definitely targeting Hal. If Nate joined Hal's crew, he might be targeted. But avoiding someone out of fear was not elegant at all.

"Let's see where this goes," muttered Nate. Normally, one would yell "Second!!" if he wanted to support a skirl, but Nate could definitely not do something so inelegantly.

Nate raised his hand. Even though Nate was also considered an outcast, he was still the son of the Oberjarl, so Sigurd noticed this and crisply asked," Do you want to nominate yourself?"

Several others looked towards him. Obviously, they had the same doubts as their instructor. Tugsurd frowned. He wanted to say something, but one of his followers stopped him. After all, his father was the Oberjarl. It would do them no good to clash with him.

Rolland had similar expectations. He empathized with Nate because his father was also a famous Skirl in Skandia, so he was also crushed by expectations from others. Hal looked at Nate and thought that since Nate was the son of the Oberjarl, he would let him join his crew, but to everyone's surprise, Nate plainly stated," I'm raising my hand to second Hal's nomination as a Brotherband Leader."