FANTASY | FICTION | VIKINGS | STORMBORN
Memories in the Moonlight
Stormborn — The Legend of the Storm Maiden, Chapter 5
“Davynn? Davynn, where are you?!”
The little boy watched the woman’s slow but sure-footed climb up the ridge. Although she shouted his name every couple of metres, he would remain hidden from the world forever. Only the breeze that ruffled his curly, auburn hair knew his hiding place.
“Davynn?! Aren’t you hungry by now? Davynn!”
Suddenly loneliness swept over him like an icy wave, and he felt angry at the woman. This time she wouldn’t lure him home with promises of a hug and warm food. He climbed higher to hide in the old oak’s thick foliage — his favourite hiding place.
Patient and relentless, the auburn-haired woman had reached the top of the hill and searched for him. Why was she always like that, never giving up on him? His father had long ago.
“Where could he be?!” she said with a playful squeaky voice and lifted a fist-sized rock, “Hmmmm … not here!”
Despite his best efforts, Davynn couldn’t hold back a giggle. Immediately, the woman straightened her neck and peeked like an alarmed goose. With a dramatic gesture, she moved her auburn curls out of her face and sniffed the air.
“Does it reak like a little boy here?!”
Davynn held a hand in front of his mouth to muffle another fit of giggles. He made sure none of the mean kids had followed her. Once he was confident that she had come alone, he dropped a small branch to give her a hint of his whereabouts. Faking surprise, the tall, slender woman looked up at the tree and smiled.
“Oh?! There you are!” she said, “I thought I’d never find you.”
“How do you always know where I am?”
He tilted his head to the left and scrutinised his mother, who answered with an enigmatic smile. Davynn was sure she had a secret.
“I’m your mother. Mothers know such things.”
“That is not true!” Davynn protested, “Norman’s mother ran around shouting his name for half a day and never found him without help. She’s a mother too!”
His mother looked up at him, her eyes as green as the Aurora Borealis in the sky.
“Well observed, Davynn.”
“What is observed?”
“Observing is when you look at your surroundings carefully, take in details and try to recognise patterns.”
Davynn climbed down a branch to look at his mother and wrinkled his tiny forehead.
“Balder isn’t good at observing, right?
His mother’s eyes widened in shock, but then she laughed. It took her a few seconds to compose herself.
“Your brother … eh … has other qualities,” she said softly.
“Like chasing me with the mean boys!” Davynn shouted angrily, “I hate him! Him and all the other boys!”
“No, I don’t think you do,” she answered, extending her arms as if to catch him, “He is sorry that they hurt you. Did you know?”
The boy looked from his mother to the town in the distance. His free hand was clenched into a fist, and he waved it like a strong warrior waves his axe.
“He should be sorry!” he protested, “Ylva promised she’ll beat him too!”
“Not everything can be solved with violence, darling. For some things, we have to use our heads, even Balder and Ylva.”
He snorted.
“Balder and the Olson boys use their heads for headbutting!”
He wanted to look stern and angry, but his mother’s laughter confused Davynn. How could he stay angry when her laughter was so full of warmth that it could melt ice? What was so funny about headbutting anyway? It was stupid.
“Will you come down and join me now?”
“No! I will stay here forever and listen to the owls and foxes!”
“That isn’t half a bad plan, but what will you eat?”
“This tree has many leaves,” he announced proudly, convinced he had found a feasible solution.
“They are not digestible for you.”
“What is digestible?”
“That means if something can be eaten safely or not.”
He seemed to think about the answer momentarily before narrowing his eyebrows. His mother knew this inquisitive expression. It signalled that he had more burning questions.
“How did you find me?” he demanded to know.
“I am very good at observing my surroundings too. You know all our fates are connected. It is like yarn spun between us.”
“You mean the silver threads!”
Ellinor’s eyes widened in surprise, and she opened and closed her mouth twice before she found the words to continue.
“Who has told you about that? Was old Arve loose-lipped again?”
“No, I don’t need Arva. I’m good at observing,” there was pride in his voice, and he extended his arms as if to embrace the world, “They are everywhere. They connect us, the earth, the sky, and the animals.”
He felt proud when he saw her utter astonishment.
“You see all that?!”
“Yes, the foxes think it is a thing to play. The owls say it grants us insights into yesterday and tomorrow. And the spider said it is the web that connects the world. Which of them is right?”
His mother looked at him intently and hesitated for a moment. Then, she smiled.
“I am not sure, my love. Maybe it is your fate to find out… after you come down for supper.”
“Father doesn’t want me to. He said it is not for a warrior to mettle with such things. Only women and crazy, old fools like Arve are to deal with such powers. He said he wants two sons, not one boy and one girl.”
“Your father is very foolish sometimes, and I’ll give him the stare.”
He heard the anger in his mother’s voice. There was something else. Did she look sad? Sure that his father would get an ear full, Davynn smiled at Ellinor. After all, nobody liked her stare. It was another form of magic, able to reduce a rock to a puddle of mud.
“Will you come down now? We’ll get inside where it is warm, and you can tell me everything the foxes and owls said. You’ll feel better in no time.”
With sudden eagerness, Davynn climbed down the tree as fast as a squirrel. Once his feet touched the ground, he closed the short distance to his mother and hugged her.
“If I learn to control the threads,” he said, smiling up at her, “I can punish them all.”
Startled, she grabbed him by the shoulders and stared into his eyes. Davynn wriggled and tried to escape her uncomfortable grip.
“What a horrible thing to say,” she scolded, “Who told you that?”
“The nine-tongued snake whispered to me.”
“There are no snakes with nine tongues,” she said, but her voice didn’t sound as confident as before.
“Yes, there is!” he insisted and pointed toward some bushes, “It was there in the dark.”
“Please, forget about that,” she said gently, her voice trembling, “Your mind is already more brilliant than most people down there. Don’t use it for such dark thoughts. Never! Promise?”
“Okay,” he said quickly to escape her grip.
Although he said what she wanted to hear, his mother wouldn’t let him go. Instead, Ellinor softened her grip and sank to her knees to look at him at eye level.
“Promise?”
“Okay, mommy! I promise!”
He briefly felt a strange sensation, like an invisible silken cloth falling over him. The feeling passed quickly, and he laughed before running downhill toward the town. Concerned, Ellinor looked after her son. She worried about him and felt guilty about what she had done. Her gaze wandered to the owl sitting on a high-up branch.
“Thanks for watching over him.”
The owl nodded slowly as if in acknowledgement. Ellinor tried to banish her thoughts with a smile but with little success. Then, she hurried after her son.
Davynn looked down at Stolthavn. The town had calmed down, and its people had returned to their lives after the spontaneous celebration at the harbour. He had planned to welcome his brother and celebrate his day of triumph. That was before he had heard his father’s cutting words.
Ever since his mother died, he had endured his father’s abuse—verbally and physically. In the past, the jarl’s beatings and insults had, at least, felt like cruel acknowledgements of his existence, but today had been different. Davynn felt like his father had tried to will him out of existence.
He glared down at the town below. The bitter taste of lost pride tasted like poison on his tongue, and the fire burning inside him was strong enough to banish the freezing wind. Recognising the threads through his blurred vision was difficult, but he knew they were there. All he had to do ….
“Davynn?”
Startled, he turned toward the voice that had pulled him out of his dark thoughts. Ylva stared at him, her hands on her hips. Her posture reminded him of stern Torhild waiting for them in front of the school when they were kids, but then, their teacher’s eyes had never shown the concern and kindness he saw in Ylva’s.
She was his only friend, and he was grateful she had shown up like always, but he was also sick of being rescued. Despite better judgement, he bared his teeth and glared at her with clenched fists.
“I could show them, you know?!” he yelled, pointing toward the town, “One day, I will hold everyone’s fate in my hands, and they’ll know what I’m capable of!”
Ylva took a careful step forward, her expression between confusion and concern.
“What are you talking about?”
Davynn didn’t know how to react. Should he push her away or embrace the only person he felt connected to? Before he had time to act, Ylva took his left hand and gently unclenched his fist. He felt the anger subside while his hand rested on hers, like a ship in a safe harbour. Davynn wanted to hate her at that moment. Instead, a warm and tingling feeling moved up his arm.
“Please, don’t fall for such dark thoughts. You are possibly the smartest person on this continent. Even the rock trolls will outsmart us if we lose you to some madness.”
“The rock trolls are all dead,” he said sheepishly, but she had already defused his anger in a way that only one person could long ago.
“Balder and my father …,” get gnarled.
“Your father. Not Balder.”
“How do you know?” he said, angrier than intended, “You weren’t there.”
“Yes, I wasn’t. I have no interest in watching the people bath in Balder’s glory and ridiculous showmanship, and I like watching your father’s fake smile even less than his usual sour expression….”
“He does look like he had a tankard of cat piss, doesn’t he?”
They both laughed for a long moment.
“Who I know are you and your brother. He is like a giant dog that thinks it’s a puppy and doesn’t know its strength.”
“He has become arrogant in his eagerness to win father’s approval!”
“You,” she emphasised by poking him in the chest, “are far too smart to give in to brooding and dark thoughts.”
“I’m so fed up by this ….”
He extended his arms as if to embrace the town below them.
“Don’t go down that path. Promise.”
He stared at her wide-eyed and froze briefly before quickly looking away when his tears welled up. Although he was sure she knew, he didn’t look at her before he had composed himself again.
“I feel like going away and never turning back.”
“Sometimes, it is better to regret a journey,” Ylva said with as wise a voice as she could muster, “than regretting never taking it.”
“You either started reading books or chatted with Naihi again.”
“I might tell you down in the inn if you are done playing vengeful man on the mountain.”
Not knowing the joy and torture it meant for him, Ylva held his hand for a while when they descended the mountain. Neither of them had noticed the silent observer in the shadowy undergrowth or knew about its ecstatic delight when it tasted Davynn’s lingering anger in the air.
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