Chapter 74: Childhood

Village without a name, north of Scotland

September 5th, 990, 10:03 AM

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In a remote village at the north coast of Scotland, a boy with long orange-reddish hair was seen running through the trails in the field carved by the repeated passage of animals and people. He was running with a smile on his face and a bundle in his arms. Quickly, he arrived at his destination, his house. The boy entered the wooden house and was quickly called attention by a feminine voice.

"Erik, what I already said to you about running inside the house?"

The boy, Erik, turned to the origin of the voice and saw a beautiful woman looking at him with a frown on her face and both hands in her waist.

"You said to not do it unless it is an emergency, mom."

Erik replied to his mom, Aria, who nodded her head in agreement.

"Good, and is it an emergency?"

Aria asked her son, who shook his head.

"No, mom. I am sorry, mom."

Erik replied to his mother, who looked a little pleased with her son recognizing his mistakes, even if some of them he continuously repeated. But then, again, Erik was a very well behaved child. Very different from the ones that she had seen around the village. Her attention was then brought to the bundle that Erik had just dropped on the kitchen table. Erik unpacked it to reveal some fresh bread, together with some cured pork sausages.

"Erik, where did you get this?"

Aria asked her son. She knew that Erik had no money to spend on his own.

"I traded them with the baker and the butcher, mom. I found this place in a nearby grove that had a lot of mushrooms and elderberries. I then remembered that the butcher likes mushrooms with eggs, but had found some difficulty in procuring the mushrooms at this time of the year. Same with the baker, who likes to make a special bread with the elderberries mixed in the dough. So I picked some of each and went to trade with them. I got some bread from the baker and the sausage from the butcher."

Erik said, explaining to his mother how he had acquired the thing in the bundle. Aria let out a sigh at that.

*sigh*

Her son, Erik, was always like that. He managed to get stuff from others by trading them with things that they were missing. How did he know what people wanted? Erik had a very good memory and very good senses. He could hear clearly a person murmur something fifty meter away and still understand what was said.She called it a gift of him, together with their magic, but he just calls it 'paying attention to the details'. Aria then noticed that Erik was separating the stuff that he got into two different piles. One was obviously bigger than the other.

"What are you doing now?"

Aria asked Erik, who had just finished separating the piles and was now starting to pack the small pile in a bundle again.

"I will take some of these for grandpa Jeo. It's too much for just the two of us anyway, and the bread would get old."

Erik said to his mother. Aria nodded her head in agreement. It is not good to waste food, and old Jeo could use some extra food.

"Go then. Don't extend your visit by too much, remember to come home before it gets dark, I want to revise your lessons on magic before sleep."

Aria said to Erik. Old Jeo was an old hermit that lived in a cave nearby. Nobody remembers when the old man started to live there, but everyone knows that he did live there. The man was harmless, and Erik loved to hear his stories, so she had no qualms about her son visiting the old hermit.

"Hum."

Erik hummed in confirmation to his mother. Soon, he had the bundle packed and ready for transportation again.

"Bye, mom."

Erik said while picking the bundle of food and walking to the door.

"Wait a moment there, mister. Aren't you forgetting anything?"

Aria said to Erik, who was almost at the door of the house, making him stop on his tracks. Erik turned to look at his mother with confusion in his face. Then, like he received some kind of enlightenment, his face morphed to one of retalization.

"Hehehe, sorry."

Erik said, sheepishly. He walked to his mother and planted a kiss on her cheek.

"Good, now go, and be safe."

Aria said to Erik, now with a smile after having received her kiss. Erik then nodded to her with his head and walked through the door. Aria walked to the door too, and watched as her son ran through the trails of the fields. A trace of sadness passed through her eyes. It has been a little more than a year since Agnar left them. It was supposed to be a short expedition at first, but then the time for his return had passed and he had not returned. Eight months later, from the fourteen men who parted, only one returned. Bjorn came back and he was missing his left arm. He was carrying some stuff with him, and had a woman by his side. He then went from house to house, telling the families of his brothers-in-arms what had happened and giving them back something from the deceased.

When it came to Aria and Erik's house, he presented the woman by his side as a healer that had pulled him from certain death and as his future wife. Emma was a witch too, just like Aria. Bjorn then told Aria and Erik about what happened to the expedition. About how they had been ambushed at night while they were camping on a beach to gather some fresh water for their ship, and how on odds of three for one, they managed to kill all the attackers, but not without losing everyone. Agnar had died at his side, from a deep cut that he received on his chest and some spear holes. Bjorn had his left arm mangled by a mace attack, and was bleeding profusely too. He only survived because Emma had found him. The vultures flying over warned her that something was not right. She didn't manage to save his arm, but she did save his life.After he could at least walk a little, Bjorn, with the help of Emma, did the rites for the bodies of his brother-in-arms. They received the traditional burial rites for their people, that meant, the bodies were cremated while sailing a last time on their ship.

It had taken a while, but when Bjorn managed to fully recover, he gathered his stuff and started the journey back to the village. Emma, who had captured his heart, and her, his heart, insisted on traveling with him. It took some time, mainly because of the winter, but they were here now. Bjorn then took something from his package and gave it to Erik. It was a short sword. Agnar's short sword. His main weapon, a bigger sword, had been cremated with him, as the tradition asked, so he wouldn't arrive empty handed on Valhalla. Erik had taken the short sword in his hands and hugged it dearly. Aria had thanked Bjorn profusely for what he had done. The couple stood in the village for some more weeks, where Emma and Aria had hitted very well, mainly talking about magic. Curiously, in one of these talks, Emma asked if it was normal for Nordic warriors to have a long bottom tool. Aria, while blushing and giggling, confessed that she would not know who to compare with. She had only seen Agnar and Erik's bottom tools, and the last one was a child. That conversation stopped there. Emma had told Aria, too, of the news of some very powerful wizards and witches banding together to found a place to teach children magic. Apparently, the kid's family would receive a visit when they were at their eleventh birthday, if they had enough magic inside of them. After that, before winter arrived, the couple had departed. They said they would live more to the south. Emma had some land down there that she had inherited from a deceased uncle and they would build a house and a family together, but they would keep contact. Apparently, some wizards were training Owls to carry letters. It sounded crazy, but then again, they were wizards and witches. In Aria's opinion, Erik had taken his father's death very well. At least better than she had. Erik was her anchor now.

Erik was running in the direction of the beach. Soon, he arrived at it. The small waves, caused by the cove, were continuously hitting the rocky beach, filling the air with its continuous sound. Erik walked through the beach until he arrived at its end. In front of him was an enormous stone cliff. Cautiously, he walked through a thin trail that went up at about a third of the height of the stone cliff. At the end of the trail was an entrance for a cave, and seated there, on a chair on its entrance, was a very old looking man. The man had very unkempt white hair and beard, both of them being very long, and he had the most striking blue eyes that anyone had ever seen. They were as blue as the clear noon sky. That man was just sitting there. Looking at the sea. Admiring it.

"Grandpa Jeo, I came to visit."

Erik said, announcing his presence to the old hermit. It was just a formality, because he knew that the old man had very sharp senses. The old man turned to look at Erik and smiled at him. At least Erik thought that the man had smiled. His mouth was hidden under the beard.

"Young Ruler! How good to see you."

Grandpa Jeo said to Erik. He was calling Erik in that way since he introduced himself to the old hermit. It was all because of the meaning behind his name.

'Names have a power of their own, young Ruler. They could not influence who you are, but they can guide you to that path.'

That was what the old hermit had said to him when he asked why the nickname. Erik had just shrugged it.

"I brought you some good food, grandpa Jeo."

Erik said while showing the old hermit the bundle in his arms.

"Oh… I will have to treat you then with some honeyed beverage."

The old hermit replied. Grandpa Jeo was the only one in the village who had managed to keep a beehive. The climate in the region was just to inospit, and, in the end, the sea wind would kill the beehive. Grandpa Jeo said that he could do it because of his cave. It worked as a protection for the hives that he kept on the most harsh days. The old hermit stood up from his chair, with an ease that a person his age would never be able to do, and walked inside the cave. Erik was behind him, following the old hermit. They arrived in the living area of the cave. On one side, was the old hermit's bed and half a dozen beehives, on the other side, was a pantry-like area that had a table with two chairs. Erik walked to the table and deposited the bundle on it, while grandpa Jeo walked more to the back of the cave. When he was back, Erik had already unpacked the bundle of food, and the old hermit was holding in his hands a fired clay pot. Inside it was a golden honey. Erik could smell it. The old hermit looked at the pile of bread and cured pork sausage and smiled.

"Oh! It's a feast then!"

Grandpa Jeo said happily. He then took a fired clay jar that was on the clay oven and a clean wooden spoon. With it, he scooped a good quantity of the golden honey and let it drop inside the jar, which was full of hot clean water. Soon after, he added some leaves on it and covered the jar with a lid. The old hermit was making some kind of tea. Fifteen minutes later, the duo were eating to their heart's content and drinking a sweet honeyed tea.

"So, young Ruler, how is your training on your magic going?"

The old hermit suddenly asked Erik, who was not surprised with the question.

"It's going well, grandpa Jeo. I've been doing the exercises that you told me and I can already hold a stone the size of my fist with my magic alone."

Erik said to the old man.

"Oh… That's good. Show me."

The old man said, while putting, with a 'thunk' sound, a big stone on top of the table that they were using to eat. Erik smiled at the old man and started to concentrate on the stone.

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