Chapter 4 | Ravinica

Chapter 4

Ravinica

PRACTICALLY THE ENTIRE village waited on the shores of the village, staring out at the black waves of the Atlantic. Dense, gritty sand sifted between our toes, everyone waiting on bated breath for the mists to part.

It was a momentous occasion, one that happened once a year, if that. We'd not had a parting in Selby in two years, when the great Gray Wraith burst from the fog before leaving with my elder brother Eirik in tow, back into the magical mist. I had lost a brother, yet the academy had gained a champion.

The ceremonial longship was a vessel belonging to Vikingrune Academy. There were other Wraith ships that set out to other corners of the world to recruit other proven initiates. People like me spent years training around the clock for this moment, to finally be recognized by the academy. We partook in rigorous trials and tribulations which were accounted for by the academy, to keep tallies on us.

The fight last night with Damon was such a trial. My victory, twice over, practically assured my acceptance into the school. No one else in the village had the credentials I did. I had won every physical contest over the past year. The duel with my half-brother was simply an inevitability. A formality.

Some people never got chosen. They never made the cut. Others were taken younger than eighteen, if they showed great promise. At twenty-two, I would be a "late bloomer."

Besides my physical trials, I'd read all the books I could get my hands on in my small fishing village. I knew everything I could about Vikingrune without actually attending or seeing it.

Vikingrune Academy was the last bastion of hope for mankind on Midgard—what my people called Earth. The academy acted as a barrier against invading races from other extraplanar realms. It honed recruits' magical and physical abilities into sharpened blades, turning them into defensive champions to fend off our world's enemies.

Apparently, those enemies were legion.

I'd been lectured on the purpose and importance of Vikingrune my entire life. I had a different understanding about the academy than most because of my particular bog-blood background.

My heart rampaged in my chest as I stared out at the empty sea. The sky was cloudless, the gray of the afternoon vanishing to make for a perfect mist-parting.

Ma threaded her fingers through mine at my side. When I looked out the corner of my eye, hers were sparkling, a wistful smile splitting her face.

As exciting as the academy sounded, I knew they only let the best, brightest, and strongest of Midgard pass through their misty gates. Those with the most potential to do great things for our world.

The idea, my mother had told me during a study session one night, was that a weak shield wall would crumble against our enemies. We were only as strong as our most vulnerable shield. In turn, Vikingrune only took the best of us, to try to shore up any frailties in the collective shield wall, or prevent weaknesses altogether.

The mysterious Gray Wraith longship would arrive to pluck an honoree of a village from a pool of that year's potential neophytes. To keep recruitment levels consistent yet sturdy, it was capped at one initiate per village per year.

Which was where I came in, as this year's chosen honoree from Selby Village.

Even though I had solidified my position at the top, I wasn't a youngling in the same way many starry-eyed recruits were. I supposed I'd always be a cub in the eyes of men and women three times my age.

As much as I didn't consider myself a starry-eyed youth, I'd be lying if I said my heart didn't pitter-patter riotously when I spotted the narrow fjord in front of us fill with ashen fog.

Gasps came from the hundreds of villagers on the banks of the ocean. Murmurs filled the night, children squealed with excitement—perhaps only excited they were able to stay up past their bedtime for this moment.

Past our jutting peninsula, deeper into the calm waves, a river-tunnel formed by a cut glacier. Through that fjord, the air itself darkened. The bruised sky filled with the mist, becoming thicker by the second, until it blotted the purple with something that looked like a giant cloud of cookfire smoke.

The mist spurt from the fjord into the wider expanse of the sky and ocean in front of us. A neon-green ribbon ignited overhead in the heavens, painting the sky, as if Thor was lighting the path of the Gray Wraith toward our rocky banks.

Kids and parents alike pointed up at the aurora borealis in awe. Though it wasn't a rare sight in these parts, the coincidence of its appearance right now seemed serendipitous.

The temperature dropped precipitously as the mist rolled over the surface of the ocean and engulfed the bank. It froze and lingered in the air in front of me, unmoving, thick enough I couldn't see through. The air stilled around me.

I heard the ghostlike reverie coming from within that vortex of fog and smoke:

"Row for our lives, row for our prize,

Bring the heavens to heel.

Row for our lives, row for our prize,

Until your soul is sealed."

The voices chilled my blood with their eerie cadence. They were harmonized in rough tones, men and women aboard the Gray Wraith calling out their purpose.

Goosebumps lined my arms and nape. I shivered, and Ma squeezed my hand harder.

The voices got louder, repeating the chant, and the audience on the bank fell silent. They sang it five, ten times, and still we couldn't see a damn thing. It was their promise and mission spoken in rhyme. Vikingrune Academy's anthem, as they rowed for the village to claim their "prize." Their initiate.

My palms grew sweaty despite the cold chill in my bones. I could hear the oars now, carving into the water. The heaves of the men and women aboard the Wraith.

The curved prow of the Viking longship jutted through the mist, its menacing visage of a horned dragon with its jaws agape thrusting into view. The large ship plumed the fog around it—"parting the mists."

Cheers rose from the villagers. I raised both arms, holding Ma's hand in mine like a prized boxer winning a title match. Together we shouted to the heavens, to the moon, to the gods we hoped could hear us.

Our chorus became an anthem of its own as more and more of the longship appeared through the mist. Once it was fully in view, with its sleek gray-painted body and curved prow and stern at either end, the mist seemed to linger around it like a mirage, making the Gray Wraith seem otherworldly and impossible to make out completely.

From the shore, we could see the huge sail set in the middle of it, complete with the emblem of Vikingrune Academy: a simple design with a white dragon head stamped onto a warrior's black circular shield.

The ship froze on the shore, half on the sand, half in the water. The oars thrust diagonally into the water. When they lifted as one, the air lifted too. A cool breeze washed over me. The mist remained as the ship moored.

The Gray Wraith looked twice as grand and large as any longship I'd ever seen. A giant smile cracked my lips, splitting open the wound I'd taken from the thrown rock earlier in the day. I tasted blood once more. My cheek hurt from my stepfather's slap, yet I didn't complain. I couldn't be bothered by any of that now.

Despite its size, the ship seemed to run a skeletal crew. I could only notice ten or so shadows in the rowing benches through the swirling mist.

When a figure leapt over the side, going knee-deep into the water before wading through the bank and coming to the shore, my heart seized in my chest. The cheers fell silent.

Eirik appeared through the mist with a crooked grin on his face.

The cheers ignited all over again, louder than before.

"Well met, Selby," he called out, throwing us a small wave. His eyes searched the crowded shore.

My elder half-brother was handsome, without the violent traits of his father. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and everything a descendent of the Vikings could hope for. Women shrieked at him like he was a celebrity, because he was. I imagined part of the chip on Damon's shoulder was due to his older brother and how effortlessly things came to him, women included. It had always been like that with Eirik—the shrieking—yet now it took on more gravity because of his position at Vikingrune Academy.

He was one of the chosen ones. And now I will join him . . . albeit for a completely different purpose.

I tried to stuff down my anxiety before it could grow unwieldy.

His dark eyes landed on mine and all other thoughts were swept aside. He marched out of the lapping water and approached me and Ma, his smile growing.

Lindi went to him first, wrapping her arms around him in an embrace. "Hello, dear boy."

"Ma," he murmured, hugging her tight.

He continued looking at me. I stared at him. He looked larger, stronger, even more imposing than when he'd left two years ago. He wore blackened hide armor with a heavy fur coat of white and gray over his shoulders.

"Vini," he said, using my nickname Anna used. Whether it was Rav, Ravi, Vin, Vini—it didn't matter. Hearing him say my name and smile at me was everything.

I rushed to my brother and wrapped him into a hug. "Hey, E," I said into the crook of his shoulder.

When we pulled apart, my eyes were dewy.

"Don't get glassy-eyed on me, sis," he said, giving me another crooked smile.

I punched him playfully in the arm. "Never."

The crowd on the shore started to close in around us, eager to hear of my brother's adventures.

Eirik took a step back and put his arms out wide, asking me and Ma, "So? What do you think?"

I blinked at him. Hesitated. Then, "I think you grew a beard."

The crowd erupted in laughter, disorienting me. Because, for at least a fleeting moment, I wasn't a bog-blood. I was a villager of Selby, like the rest of them. Nothing more, nothing less.

Eirik snorted and shouldered me as he passed, heading for the village. "What, this patchy thing?" he called out, running a hand through the short black bush on his chin.

I shouldered him back, grinning. "It's about time, E. I was starting to worry you'd never be able to grow one."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, and took to the front of the group like he was a messiah as we made our way into the village. Everyone followed in his wake. No one else from the longship disembarked, the shadows in the mist strangely still.

"So?" I asked. "What news do you bring?" I couldn't hide the excitement from my voice.

Eirik put a hand to his belly. "The morning, sister. You know how it works. For now"—he patted himself and glanced over at Ma—"I'm desperately hoping you've got some cod chowder on the boilpot, Ma."