The longhouse lay silent. Rotag\u01ebll crossed the crunching snow to reach the open doorway, her boots leaving a trail of small snow pebbles on the wood floor as she entered. She peered across the massive room, a large table extending the length, massive beams standing vigil against any potential of the roof collapsing. A hearth full of crackling wood nestled itself in the right and left wall, both ablaze, both spilling their warmth across the bodies that lay bleeding.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rotag\u01ebll stepped around her brother in arms, his body wrapped in thick furs, his face pressed against the floor as drool and blood mixed together to drool from his gaping mouth. Rot peered at him and spotted veins bulging against his skin, spreading up to his bloodshot eyes. She turned her attention to the far end of the room, stairs lifted a section of the floor above the table\u2019s height, and there, a large wood box lay open. She approached, avoiding the bodies and stepping over discarded weapons.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The box\u2019s carvings depicted snakes, twisting and churning around a baby. Rot let her pale fingers brush the smooth carvings, then peered inside. Claw marks and broken fingernails dug into the wood of the inner walls. Food scraps and urine mixed together to stain it with the scent of defecation, pungent only now that she stood next to it. Rot\u2019s nose wrinkled and she turned away, spotting the second entry into the longhouse: a side door a few paces away. And there, in the snow, were footprints. Rotagoll turned towards the bodies of her siblings in the hall, and quietly, whispered a gentle prayer to Hel.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Goddess, please send those worthy to Valhalla, and those who are not, care for in my stead. They have been worthy siblings, and do not deserve to be consumed by Nidghogg.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Rot turned and strode to the door, where she paused, lifted her gaze to the trees, and saw a lone raven sitting at the border of the surrounding forest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Have mercy on them, Odin<\/em>, she added, hoping he would not notice her reluctance to give him a prayer. She stepped into the snow, picking the tracks out in the sea of white, and followed them through the village.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Wood huts with smoking chimneys filled her home, where her fellow siblings cooked and sparred. Many were not outside now, as night was quickly approaching, and the chill of encroaching darkness crept across the frost-covered ground like the hands of the dead seeking to pull them under the earth. They had built their homes out of the trees, along the edge of a river that spread into the sea. As more were born or came to join their family, more homes were built from the body of the land. Still, there was an end to the village, and the tracks guided her there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A single hut sat before her, at the furthest outskirts of the village, removed by a few house-lengths from the nearest neighbor. This home belonged to B\u00f3fr\u00ed\u00f0r Br\u00edetsun, one of her sisters who died during the last raid. Her home was empty now. Or, Rot supposed, it had been until the unwelcome guest laid claim to it.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n Rotag\u01ebll entered the house, pushing the door open and finding the rectangular home filled with furs of animals Br\u00edetsun had kept for herself during their last hunt. A small table and a bed sat directly in front of her, at the corner of the home, and to her right, the furs led to a fireplace. There, a woman sat crouched in front of it, trying and failing to catch it aflame with a bundle of sticks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The stranger\u2019s hair shifted, and lifted up to look back at Rotag\u01ebll. Ebony snakes, lined with bright blue streaks that only her right eye could see fully. Orange scales covered their heads, the color a muddy yellow for half her sight. She blinked a few times, attempting to give her mind a momentary break from the conflicting colors. With black eyes darker than Fenrir\u2019s fur, the snakes peered at Rot curiously, before one twisted around and opened its mouth next to the woman\u2019s cheek. With a gasp, the stranger turned around.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Beautiful warm skin, like that of a beach during a midnight raid, ran across the stranger\u2019s long frame, across her flat nose and shallow brows. Pointed ears arched towards the roof, and a long neck held her softly pointed jaw. Dirty robes as Rot had never seen clothed the stranger in crimson and gold, long sleeves dirtied and stained with feces and mud. The vibrant colors made Rot think of the Christians they traded with to the South, but the woman\u2019s skin, and the manner in which her clothes were tailored, gave Rot pause. The stranger found her voice before Rot did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYour eye,\u201d she breathed, her voice warm and gentle, the words spoken in the language of the white-skinned Christians. Her fingers brushed her thin lips. \u201cYou\u2019re like me.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cFire won\u2019t start,\u201d Rotag\u01ebll replied, struggling to grasp the language where she should be speaking her mother\u2019s tongue. \u201cWhere is flint?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n The woman blinked, the color of her eyes matching the orange of the snake heads. \u201cFlint?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cTo start fire.\u201d Rot pulled off her shoes and set them by the door. She shut it, latched it against the cold, and walked to the window looking out over the forest behind the home. She pulled the shutters close, then went to crouch on the bear pelt next to the fire. The stranger stared at her, and so did the dozen snakes sprouting from her head. The flint sat next to the foot of the fireplace, and with Rot\u2019s steady hand, she was quick to get the fire going. She tossed a few pieces of wood atop the infant flames from the pile nearby, then sat back beside the woman. She smelled of piss and sweat.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYour eye,\u201d she began, resting her hands on her lap, atop the golden sash that fell from the deep red cloth tied beneath her breasts. \u201cWere you cursed as well?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Rotag\u01ebll frowned and met the woman\u2019s gaze. Her fingers reached up and brushed the thick wolven fur that filled the wound that once split her flesh apart. It ran over the curve of her cheek and across her brow, and where her human eye once lay, now a yellowed canine eye remained.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo,\u201d she replied. \u201cGift from\u2026 Odin.<\/em>\u201d A blessing from Hel. <\/em>She pointed to the sky, attempting to get across the position of the god compared to them. To explain how her eye would have been blinded without this blessing, that if the wolf had not healed her wounds she would still be recovering in the healer\u2019s hut, would be too difficult to translate into the Christian\u2019s words. The stranger\u2019s brows pulled together and she looked away, towards the growing fire. She reached her hands out to it, warming them by the orange flames. The snakes on the left side of her head stretched out towards Rotag\u01ebll, tongues flicking out to taste the air.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAre you Christian?\u201d Rot asked, looking from the snakes to the woman.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She shook her head. \u201cNo,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019m from the East.\u201d She looked at Rot, then down at her hands. \u201cCursed by Greeks.<\/em>\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n Rot continued to stare. The word Greeks <\/em>was familiar. She had not traded with them, but she believed others had, other siblings further to the South. To curse someone with a head of snakes seemed more of a useful gift than not, however.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n The stranger\u2019s cheeks flushed and she glanced at Rotag\u01ebll again, before looking back at the fire. \u201cWhat?\u201d she breathed, a smile dancing on her lips. \u201cWhy are you looking at me like that?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSnakes\u2026 good.\u201d Rot replied. From the look on the woman\u2019s face, her meaning hadn\u2019t gotten across well. She gestured vaguely. \u201cStrong. Add\u2026 weapon?\u201d She grimaced. She hated this tongue. \u201cDo the snakes provide the power to kill my siblings in the longhouse?\u201d she said, in her native tongue. \u201cThey seem powerful, if so. Less of a curse, more of a gift.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The woman blinked. One of her snakes turned and opened its mouth towards her. She looked at it, watching it intently, then nodded. She looked back to Rot. \u201cYou aren\u2019t angry about the people I killed?\u201d she asked, her words clearly in Nordic. Rot blinked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou can speak my language,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI can,\u201d the woman replied. \u201cMy snakes can store knowledge. And this one has picked up the language of your people. They can pass it onto me.\u201d She smiled, the expression hesitant. \u201cI\u2019m sorry for your people. I was frightened, and\u2026 my snakes protect me if they feel I\u2019m in danger.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou are unhurt,\u201d Rot said, trying to collect herself. \u201cThe longhouse was full.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThey didn\u2019t get close. My snakes don\u2019t need to be close to kill.\u201d She reached up and brushed a few of her snakes, the reptiles curling around her fingers.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAnd you do not fear me? You do not feel in danger?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI don\u2019t want to,\u201d she breathed. \u201cYou\u2019re like me. I\u2019d like to hope we could\u2026 we could talk.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n Rot eyed her, then looked to the fire. \u201cIt will be getting dark,\u201d she murmured. \u201cWe will need to go before our Matriarch in the morning. We can speak until then.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n The woman\u2019s eyes shone with delight. \u201cThank you. My name\u2019s Empress Shiori. What may I call you?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cEmpress?\u201d Rotag\u01ebll repeated. \u201cI do not know what word.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh. It\u2019s not important,\u201d Shirori replied. \u201cYou can call me Shiori.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI am Rotag\u01ebll Rakvisun,\u201d Rot said after a pause. \u201cHave you eaten?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo, ah. I haven\u2019t eaten in a long time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI will cook us something to feast on,\u201d Rot said, standing.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n Shiori watched her, her smile remaining. \u201cThank you, Rotag\u01ebll. It has been a long time since someone spoke with me.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n Rotag\u01ebll dipped her head in response. \u201cIt is not out of kindness. It is curiosity.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n Shiori giggled, the sound reminding Rot of a stoat. \u201cThat will do just fine.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" A hearth full of crackling wood nestled itself in the right and left wall, both ablaze, both spilling their warmth across the bodies that lay bleeding.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":[]},"categories":[692],"tags":[12,648,638,649,647,299,580,114,97,284],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p27tjX-uB","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1897"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1897"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1897\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1898,"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1897\/revisions\/1898"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1897"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1897"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1897"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}