The Growing Darkness

[Sofija]

As the mug slammed down on the table, the growing crowd cheered. Sofija wiped the ale-head from her lips with her arm and tried to stare down her loud-mouthed opponent though now there were at least three, or maybe four, of him. “Alright, Bjartmar. Top that!” She tried to say, taunting him, but the words were slurring together.

Bjartmar, a braggart with long brown hair and beard nearly as long both braided in silver looked over at his mug freshly filled. Or at least he tried to as it kept moving on him. “I’ll be’ja yet. Noone bess da mighdy Bjartmar.” He boosted back as his hand finally found the handle. The crowd hushed as they watched him sway, lift the mug up, then collapse onto the floor eliciting a tremendous roar from the crowd.

Sofija tried to stand as the lodge seemed to be on some ocean the way it pitched and yawed to acknowledge the crowd. “That’s what you get for trying to challenge me to a drinking contest Bjartmar,” she tried saying thrusting her thumb to her chest, though her words were so slurred no one could understand her as she then pointed her finger at the unconscious Norn on the floor. She turned back to the crowd, “One more rou…” she only got that far before the world went black.

Soon she was awakened by splash of cold water to her face. “… round in celebration,” she finished.

“Wake up Sofija. It’s morning,” a young male voice said.

“What do you mean, morning? And don’t talk so loud and put out that candle,” she said as she covered her eyes against the bright light that made her head pound.

“It’s not a candle, it’s the sun. And you’re needed at the smithy. You were going to help Master Geirbjørn forge a sword for me,” the young lad said.

Sofija reluctantly stood up in the same spot as last night and shook the cobwebs out of her head. “Sorry, Eyjolf. I had to put that Bjartmar in his place, that braggard,” she replied to the young lad. Eyjolf was her brother’s, Dagnar, son. After he and his wife, Dinah, were killed on a hunting trip two years ago, Sofija raised young Eyjolf, now 12, as her own. He had his father’s, and Sofija’s, ice-blue eyes while inheriting his mother’s blond hair. She made a promise that they would gather the ingredients needed and today, would go down to the smithy and get him his very own sword, as he was not yet grown enough to use his father’s greatsword.

Eyjolf looked up to his aunt, both literally and figuratively. She was tall, over 7 foot, well-muscled, with the same ice-blue eyes with her long, majestically white hair done in the traditional khaleeshi braid. Eyjolf couldn’t help but admire her, her strength, courage, devotion to family, friends and clan were undeniable, plus, he admitted to himself shyly, she was beautiful.

“I got the materials,” Eyjolf said holding up the bag for her to see. He was so excited. Finally, now he could go with his aunt on her hunting trips and prove to his father, the bear spirit, and Sofija, he would make a fine Norn.
“Ok, then. Let’s go.” Sofija said beaming at her young charge as they headed off.

[Sofija]

Deep inside the walled city of Queensland, high up in rising palaces of the nobility, Jiangnu was poring over her textbooks. The young woman with long black hair done up in buns with long purple ribbons loved reading, however, ancient historical writings were not high on the list. They lacked the oomph, pizzazz, and excitement of the latest action novel to keep her interest; so dry, formal, and boring. But if she didn’t do well on tomorrow’s test, she knew she would not hear the end of it from her mother.

“Wha’cha readin’?”

Jiangnu jumped at the sound, startling her out of her near trance, and did everything she could to not fall backwards. “By Dwayna!” She exclaimed once she got her balance back while holding her hand to her chest. “What are you doing here, Rolinda? And how did you get in? If my mother were to catch you here …”. She let the threat end there as they both knew the answer.

Her mother, Meng Jia, never approved of her only daughter hanging out with such a “dirty street urchin” as she called Rolinda. Though the two girls were the same age, they couldn’t have come from more different backgrounds. Jiangnu’s family was one of the most influential noble houses with a long, cherished tradition. Jia had such high hopes for her daughter, that the thought of her hanging around with someone raised on the streets, with no parents, low morals, and of course, no money, mortified her. While most of that was true, well the streets, parents, and money part, she didn’t know her like Jiangnu did. And no matter how often she tried, she knew there was no hope in ever convincing her mother that. In fact she owed her life to Rolinda, and Rolinda’s to her.

“Well, we’ll fine out if ya na gonna hold ya voice down,” Rolinda teased with her finger held to her lips. The dark-skinned girl clad in a salmon and green leather outfit with beautiful dark eyes and hair done up in pigtails. “As for gedin in,” Rolinda motioned with her head towards the grappling rope at the window. She looked over her friend’s shoulder. “Ugh, borin’! Why aincha readin’ the new adventure book tha jus’ came out? It’s so good.” She said commenting on the book. “Anyway, come on. Godda surprise for ya.”

Jiangnu let out a sigh. “I really should not. I have to study or my mother will get very angry. You know how she is.” She knew the plea would fall on deaf ears, but she had to make her case.

“Come on!,” Rolinda pleaded. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Trust me.” Rolinda though knew her friend too well. It wasn’t just her fear of her mother’s wrath, but a way for her to feel better. She could say to herself that she tried, but succumbed to her friend’s charms before going along with whatever scheme Rolinda had concocted that day.

“Alright”, Jiangnu said with a sigh. “Promise me though, that we will be done before my mother finds out I’m gone.”

“Deal.” Rolinda agreed before climbing down the rope with Jiangnu not far behind.