“It is over. You killed him,” Leif said.
He was right. There was no way Arne had lived through that. And yet something felt off.
Astrid lifted a shaking hand and pointed to where Arne had landed. All eyes turned, and gasps rippled through the villagers. Arne’s body jerked and writhed—it looked like it was trying to get up, but struggled.
I squinted to make sure I was seeing this correctly. Black tendrils leaked from his dead eyes and gaping mouth. A dark aura seeped out of the twitching body.
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the gathered crowd. Bjørn reached for a weapon, and I held up my hand. “No one go near this. He’s no longer human.”
I’d seen this before, but only on the battlefield. Some sort of dark spirit, maybe a malevolent fae, I wasn’t sure, had possessed a mortal. It fed off their negative emotions and desires, burrowing deep within the body until the person was merely a husk of their former self. Desperate, dying men were easy targets.
How it had found Arne, I couldn’t begin to fathom. If he’d seen battle in the last few weeks, which wasn’t uncommon these days, it could have found him there. Or the being had happened upon this unlucky soul around the village.
Either way, it was becoming clear Arne wasn’t actually alive when he set about this crazed course against Bjørn and his family. As if an illusion was broken, where skin had been on his arms and face, rot now set in. Bones were exposed in some areas, and the smell of decay was unmistakable. I doubted he’d been alive for several days.
I needed to put this thing down, before it sought out a new host. With so many mortals around it, and all the intense emotions flying, it’d easily find one. And if it latched, there was nothing more to do than to put them out of their misery before the creature took over.
I strode up to the twitching monstrosity. Normally I’d be more cautious, as the creature heightened the reflexes of the human. But it was clear its struggle was due to all the broken bones caused by Astrid’s attack.
Brandishing my axe, I swung when I came in range, aiming for the base of the creature’s neck. My blade sank into its flesh and a sickening crunch came when the axe cracked its spine. The creature twitched more, its head jerking to the side to stare up at me with unnerving dead eyes. I lifted the blade out of its body, the metal slick and dripping with discolored blood. I then slammed my axe down on it again, this time severing the head from the body.
The head rolled, and the body thrashed unnaturally, spraying blood everywhere before going still. The dark aura and tendrils faded, and soon, Arne looked like a normal but decayed man again.
I turned away from the gory mess pooling at my feet, only to be slammed with regret at the sight of Arne’s son staring in horror. I’d just butchered what he thought was his father. By this point of the host consumption, mortals would be able to see it, but that wouldn’t make things better for the son. This was still his father.
I wouldn’t apologize for my brutality. I acted in order to protect these mortals. Had I not, this whole town would have fallen victim eventually. But I did allow an apologetic gaze to land on Arne’s son, so he knew I never meant to make things worse for him. “Build him a funeral pyre. It’s the least he deserves after that spirit violated him.”
The son numbly nodded, and several others offered their assistance.
Randi rushed over to her husband and fussed, now appearing as a loving wife, rather than the scary witch from before. Though, I did note there was still a chilling air about her. She fussed so much that Bjørn laughed and reassured her he was fine.
He looked my way and held my gaze when I approached. “You have my eternal gratitude, Týr. I and my family are indebted to you. Request anything of us, and you will have it, no questions.”
The man’s offer barely registered in my mind, as I was distracted with Leif escorting Astrid away. Another man around her age, having features similar to the jarl, was assisting.
Astrid glanced back and a small smile spread across her lips. The fury in her eyes now replaced with vibrant joy, captivating me a moment longer before she turned away once again.
I didn’t want her to look away. I wanted to gaze at this beauty a moment longer, hear her voice one last time.
I wanted her favor—her worship—more than any other mortal, and I couldn’t understand why. I hadn’t even spoken with the woman. Why does this mortal intrigue me so much?
I wasn’t starved for attention. I could visit any village or town and pick from any of the women there. They’d all offer their beds and company to me, and yet those thoughts hadn’t crossed my mind with Astrid.
Well, now they did. Thoughts of how long I’d be searching her skin to find every last spot speckling it, and indulging in her taste and sounds, now flitted through my mind. But that hadn’t been my initial thoughts about her. Why was she so different? Why did a mortal woman—one whose life was so fleeting, it’d be snuffed out in a blink for a god like myself—captivate me? Why was I allowing her to be taken away when I had no answers?
“Anything at all,” her father repeated next to me, “and it’s yours.”
I looked at him, and the man stared at me with more intensity than I had anticipated. It carried a feeling of knowing, as if he already assumed what I’d demand of him and his family in payment.
“I will keep your offer in mind.”
Chapter Two
Astrid
The wooden door clacked behind me. I adjusted my basket and set a hurried pace out of town. I prayed my journey would be quiet and uneventful. The last thing I needed was another visit from—
“Astrid,” someone called.
