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Valhalla - Vikings Novel
Valhalla
2025, Zofia
Historical Romance
Free
a young girl escaping a brutal arranged marriage and abusive family in Denmark by fleeing on a pirate ship. She finds unexpected mentorship from the rogue captain, Jackin, who teaches her survival skills and sparks a new sense of purpose within her. Their bond grows amidst adventures and challenges, hinting at a fated reunion as Dorothea begins a new life in the treacherous Viking world of Iceland, carrying with her the desire for both independence and a deeper connection.
Dorothea
A young Danish girl who escapes an abusive home and an arranged marriage. Initially vulnerable and traumatized, she transforms into a resilient and resourceful individual, learning survival skills and embracing a new, independent life. She carries a strong desire for revenge and self-reliance.Steinar
The powerful and respected Viking chief of Reykjavik, Iceland, soon to be king. He is a fierce warrior, known for his cold demeanor but also for a hidden, almost imperceptible, sense of satisfaction or approval when things go his way. He is entangled in civil war and political struggles.Jackin
A cunning and enigmatic pirate captain who offers Dorothea passage to the Faroe Islands. He appears gruff and pragmatic, but harbors a subtle kindness and acts as a mentor figure, teaching Dorothea vital life lessons and perhaps even developing a deeper, unspoken connection with her. He is a man of few words, but his actions often speak volumes.
The Vikings The Vikings, also known as Norsemen, were an ancient Germanic people from the Nordic countries like Norway, Finland, Sweden, Iceland, and Denmark. These places were also called Scandinavia. Paganism Early Christians used this word for people who worshipped multiple gods. Valhalla In pagan belief, Valhalla is like heaven. We say heaven, but they had Valhalla. Important Heads-Up Before You Read This is a historical romance novel, but it talks about two religions, Christianity and Paganism, during the Viking age. So, if you're sensitive about that kind of stuff, please stop here and back out instead of leaving negative comments. I'm not going to insult any religion or belief, no matter what it is. But I don't practice any of the rituals that will be mentioned, and I have nothing to do with them. Everything I write about is just for the story, the events, and the characters. The novel includes violent scenes, weird bloody rituals, and, from the title, you know it's about war. Everyone knows what happens in war: killing, torture, and physical attacks. So, this isn't for the faint of heart. If you can't handle it, stop here. But if you're strong enough to keep going, don't blame me later. I'm repeating this: I don't want outside comments about what's allowed or forbidden, or about polytheism, or "why did you write this and not that?" Nobody knows what's coming. What you're about to read is just about them and their beliefs, not about me. A Little Tip Before you start reading, make some warm tea and get cozy under your blankets. You'll want to feel warm because the novel is super cold, thanks to Iceland's snow. Hold On a Sec Before You Dive In The heroine isn't someone without dignity or someone who's humiliated, so there's no need to jump to conclusions from the first chapter. In love, the guy doesn't always have to fall for the woman first. Maybe she falls for him first, and he loves that and feels the same way. So their love will be platonic, a love the gods will etch with a sacred golden feather across Valhalla's sky... One Legend About Love Goes Like This Before humans existed, there were creatures called "double beings." They had two opposing heads on one neck, four arms, four legs, two hearts, two stomachs, and so on. These creatures plotted against the gods, so the god Zeus decided to get revenge by weakening them so they couldn't plot again. He split them in half. Since that day, these beings have been searching for their other half. Maybe that's where love comes from... My Lovely Characters Steinar Snorrason Donar: Remember, he'll curse anyone who calls him Schneider. He loves his name. "You have to go through this hell and marry me again because your will belongs to me, just like you do. My heart loves all beautiful things, and my heart loves you, my saint..." Dorothea Hammer: She's sensitive about her stuff, so she doesn't like the hero having other wives. He's hers alone, and anyone who says the hero is their husband will be haunted in their nightmares. So try not to let her find out about that. "You can keep living without love in your life, but the moment you get it, you become addicted... There's no love legend that ended in marriage; all of them were losses." This novel is a fictional work by me. It's not based on specific history, other than it being about Vikings. I also forbid anyone from mentioning characters from other novels here or saying that it's similar to them. If you happen to find a single word mentioned in another novel, it's just a coincidence because Arabic is one language, and romance and love are one. Thanks to everyone who reads it and feels Icelandic, platonic emotions inside, and leaves a nice comment. I won't publish a chapter unless I'm happy with it. Anyone who knows me knows I hate delaying and procrastinating without reason when publishing, but I need my novel to be as perfect as my readers. Three female poets, wearing white bras, sat on the floor around a round table, books in their hands. A man wearing a pirate shirt burst through the door, escaping a blizzard, and sat at the women's table. He took off his shirt. As soon as he touched one of them, they had already died moments ago. They wouldn't come back to life, even if they longed for his kisses. Then he got up, hugged the one he had touched, and carried her outside. Every time that draft of air opened and slammed the door, it would flip the pages of all three of their books. Iceland... Reykjavik... Gorm... Where blood and snow mix... The snow was coming down heavily and the wind was fierce, making it impossible for anyone to see, as if it were ambushing them. Except for those three who stood facing each other, each carrying either an axe or a sword engraved with ancient runic symbols. Steam came out of their mouths because of the heat warming their bodies and the adrenaline rushing through them as they stood amidst those corpses... The snow, which had always been pure, turned into a crimson swamp... The blood was dry on their hands. They would sometimes look around, and sometimes look back at each other. Even the snow didn't stop them from doing their job. They were looking around to make sure there was no one behind them except for that bear licking its arm behind their friend. They were listening to the sound of screams and souls ascending from the other side, so a slight smile appeared on their lips, just showing how happy they were about what had caused it. Then one of them parted his lips to speak in a calm tone, saying: "Adalstein, the only thing that warms me up now is more dead bodies." Adalstein put his axe back in its place then walked towards those sounds, panting from what he had done. Moments later, they saw the shadow of someone coming towards them from behind the snowy winds. The closer he got, the more they raised their heads at his size. He looked as if he were the reason for the sun's disappearance now and the reason for the heavy snowfall... He finally appeared before them with his blue eyes holding the cruelty of Icelandic ice, then stood opposite them, saying in a hoarse voice, slightly covered by the sound of the frost, addressing Adalstein: "Why are you covering your eyes?" He was covering his eyes as if blocking the sun's rays so they wouldn't hinder his sight, but he said in a sarcastic tone, trying not to laugh: "You're very tall, cousin, and my eyes can't handle your light... You're radiant." He rolled his eyes in boredom, then scanned the place with his blue eyes reflecting the color of the ice, looking at his companions, snow filling his eyelashes. He put his sword back in its scabbard then shook his head, cracking his neck. Then, after his eyes landed on a certain spot, he tilted his head slightly. So when his companions see him tilt his head with a spooky, ghostly smile, they swear he's about to commit another massacre. He doesn't usually smile, but when he does, you should run fast. As soon as they saw that demonic look and his cunning smile, they realized they had chosen the perfect person to be the leader. So, without wasting any more time, he drew his sword and passed it directly through the person who was advancing towards his friend from behind, splitting his head in half, making him fall to the ground. He put his sword back again and this time clasped his hands together, staring at them, then said after catching his breath in a rough voice carrying ancient runic words: "Let's wait until the snow stops, we have a lot to do." Without arguing further, they walked with him, heading back, getting ready for the next step while the furs on their shoulders hung down from behind... As soon as they reached the great hall where the men gathered, and as soon as they saw him enter, they all knelt before him, showing their respect. He put away his sword and sat on the chair, relaxing his body on it while scanning them with his eyes. Soon, one of his men came forward and said: "Chief Steinar, we have completely taken over Kópavogur." Steinar Snorrason Donar, the warrior and current Viking chief of Reykjavik, and soon to be king of all Iceland's Vikings... Iceland, a place that has seen many civil wars because of the Norwegians who claim it belongs to their ancestors. They want it, and Reykjavik in particular has been struggling for years to survive, so they're deep in division problems... The civil war here didn't ease up until Steinar took charge and the warriors followed him. He was the only suitable one to be king, but many objected because of what his father had done previously. For a long time, they've been divided between supporters and opponents, which explains the state he was in with his cousins this morning. So as soon as the warrior told him that, a slight, almost invisible side smile appeared on his lips, but anyone could tell just by looking into his eyes... His younger brother, Dag, approached him, whispering in his ear: "What about grandfather Harald? Where is he?" Seconds passed after his question, and here was their grandfather Harald entering the Althing, the hall of conquerors where the Vikings hold their meetings, wiping snow from his clothes, saying in a raised voice: "We agreed that if I took Garden Town and put it under your control, you would agree to marry Johan's daughter." Steinar rested his jaw on his hand while his blue eyes scanned his grandfather... He hated the women his grandfather brought him, he hated his marriage offers, and he hated it when his grandfather made fun of his size, and everything related to his grandfather. Yet he didn't hate him personally, so he straightened his sitting position, gesturing for the others to leave except for his cousins and brother, then said with a furrowed brow: "You marry her... I asked you not to interfere in my love life... Grandfather." Harald pursed his lips then looked at him, rolling his eyes indifferently: "I know you'll stay single your whole life." "Harald, do you want my bear to eat you? Don't bother my dear cousin." Young men usually raise animals like dogs or maybe wolves, but Arvid surpassed them by raising a bear. He even named him Snow. And because he's very generous with his bear, he allows him to kill whoever he wants. The only two people his bear fears among them, without being ordered to, are Steinar and Edith. That's why Arvid doesn't really prefer bothering his cousin, because even his bear won't save him from him. They have many decisions to make now about this war, which has lasted a long time. Steinar also needs to control this unruly faction. He wants to expand his lands and sail to Norway, Sweden, and even England... A scream rose in the distance, making them all look up. It was a sound mixed with pain and anger, an echo of the war that hadn't calmed down for many long nights. And among the remains, these four men, each carrying a story of blood and death, while the night announced the birth of a new legend, a legend of who will remain, and who will perish in this merciless frost... Jutland Island - Denmark Water droplets dripping from the ceiling due to humidity created a monotonous melody, like a death knell... A prison, bars, iron shackles around those small hands that were supposed to be wrapped in silk. Did you expect it would be a man...? No, it was a small girl behind all that, with bound hands... Her long brown hair was scattered around her face and her clothes were torn, yet she never made a sound, even with the torture she was enduring. Her back was etched blue from the whip, and her blood had dried, though she was spitting blood from her mouth. She stared at the ground, lost in thought, thinking about what she would do next, until she heard a voice from behind the bars; it was a woman's voice: "Are you still sticking to your decision... Dorothea?" Dorothea Hammer, who was only 12 years old, had her father determined to marry her off to one of the sons of well-known merchants like himself when she had her first period. Because he saw her as a hindrance and just merchandise, he decided to marry her off at this early age, but she insisted on refusing, and he had no choice but to torture her to get her to agree. She was nothing but a commodity in the hands of her father and his wife, given to a man she had never seen, a man who was years older than her own age. Last night was a nightmare, when they dragged her by her arms here, her screams echoing through the palace halls, but no one listened... no one cared. Now, sitting here, surrounded by nothing but the rotten walls, no warmth, no light, no hope... But she wasn't weak and she wouldn't be weak! Pain was born within her... something new... something harsh, something that shouldn't exist in a child... She stared at the iron shackles around her wrists, their marks etched into her white skin, a slight bleeding drawing jagged lines on her arms, but she didn't cry. Her tears wouldn't get her out of here, but the fire that began to ignite in her soul would. Thoughts began to form in her mind... inside her... "If I hadn't been weak, I wouldn't be here now." "If I were stronger, I would be the one imprisoning them, putting chains on their wrists." "If I had the strength... I would slaughter my father as they slaughter sheep." Her hands trembled, not from fear, but from the idea that began to infiltrate her mind. Murder... she didn't fully understand what that meant, but she imagined a sharp blade piercing her father's chest, she saw his wife's eyes wide with terror, she imagined his blood, his slowing heartbeats, chaos... then her freedom. But how? How could she kill an adult man and his wife when she was a weak child? She clenched her teeth until they almost broke, then closed her eyes, trying to calm her breathing. She couldn't cry, she couldn't break down, because if she did, she would be finished... She had to become smarter, she had to hide in the dark until the right time came... So she opened her eyes, her tears no longer blurring her vision, just a sharp, steady gaze, as if she were seeing another future... a future she would create with her own hands, not a future forced upon her by chains and forced marriage. "You'll get out of here... and you'll make them pay." Fifteen days of torture had passed, and here was her stepmother asking her for the thousandth time if she would agree to spare her body. Dorothea looked at her with empty eyes, just like her heart—feeling nothing, sensing nothing. But she surprised her when she nodded, saying in a faint, choked voice: "I agree. I'll get married." A wide smile spread across her stepmother's face, but without taking Dorothea out of that dark prison, she rushed towards her husband, who was now sitting at his desk, signing and stamping some papers related to the wool trade he managed. Without knocking, she burst in, lifting her dress slightly so it wouldn't hinder her running: "Roger... Roger... She agreed!" Before the man in question even looked up at his wife, he raised his eyebrows, putting the finishing touches on the paper, listening to her words. Then, once he was done with what mattered to him, he looked at her, his eyes scanning her for a few seconds... He placed his quill near the papers, in its holder, so it wouldn't get stained with ink, then clasped his hands together to his chin, resting it on the table, saying: "Bring her to me at once." His wife returned to the prison below the palace, hurrying to open the door. It wasn't a huge palace, but it was a large house for a well-known merchant. But Dorothea didn't care and didn't raise her head. She was just hugging herself, wrapping her arms around her legs, until her stepmother's voice pulled her back as she repeated what she was saying: "Come on, I told you I'll unbind you! Your father ordered me to take you out." Only then did Dorothea raise her head to look at her, then calmly stood up, extending her hand for her to be freed. She walked with her towards her father's office without saying a word, except that she was affected by the strong sunlight and simply covered her eyes, which hurt her. She stood facing him, hands clasped behind her back, enduring his usual scolding, until her father gestured to his wife, saying: "Bathe her, change her filthy clothes, and try to cover up her ugliness with some powders. You women are experts at this." She nodded in agreement, then took Dorothea's hand, and before they left, his voice stopped them, saying: "I'll postpone the wedding for a week until the bruises fade a bit. I don't want any problems." Dorothea just looked at him with the same expression and the same empty eyes that held nothing, then left with his wife. She was lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, and every now and then she'd raise her hands and stare at the bruises on them, sighing softly. She was thinking hard about a solution, and for two weeks, the only thing that came to mind was... killing them. She quickly stood up and went to her small bookshelf. Luck was on her side when her father taught her to read, which was the only positive thing he had ever done for her. She chose books about other places, also picked up maps, and went to her desk to read them. Darkness fell, and she joined her father and stepmother around the dinner table. They paid her no attention; her father simply talked about his business. Only then did she gather her courage, parting her lips to say: "May I ask you something, Father?" Her voice made him turn his head towards her, nodding for her to continue: "Have you ever been to Iceland?" Roger smiled sarcastically, then put down his spoon, saying with annoyance: "Is this another one of your failed schemes? Only a fool like you would go there. It's a country of only Vikings, and right now they're in the middle of a civil war to appoint a new chief. Besides, they're pagans and we're Christians; they wouldn't spare anyone who doesn't share their religion." Her eyes widened in shock at what he said, but she continued after putting her spoon aside: "What about the Faroe Islands... I mean that small island? Have you visited it before?" "Mmmm... I've visited it. It's an isolated Christian island with only merchants and their families... Is there a reason for your questions?" "No, I swear, I just read about them." Roger didn't reply but went back to eating his food in silence. They continued to eat peacefully for a while, but Dorothea couldn't stop her thoughts, so she pushed her plate away. Before she stood up, she clasped her hands together to say grace and thank God for her food: "We thank you, Lord God, for you are the one who prepared this table for us, which is a sign of your love for us, your servants. We ask you, our Master, to be our help and strength. We thank you, our God, for your blessings in giving us your worldly gifts; do not deprive us of your heavenly kingdom, but as you received among your disciples, O Savior, and granted them peace, come to us and save us." Then she left the hall, heading quickly to her room. Her steps were somewhat slow and heavy because her body ached from the beating. She entered her room and closed the door tightly, then took a deep breath before going to her wardrobe. She ran her fingers through her hair, lifting it from her face so it wouldn't hinder her, then began searching for something, hoping no one had seen it. After a short search, she finally found it... She found the bag she had filled with money for herself. She had prepared for this. She hid it among her clothes and left through the back door where no one would see her. The darkness was pitch black, and only the full moon illuminated the place. She paused for a moment, staring at it, its light reflecting in her beautiful rifle-brown eyes, as if God had given her beautiful eyes alone. Soon, her thoughts returned to her goal... She headed towards the port where sailors gathered, walking among them, but she didn't know who exactly to approach. Then she found a group of men who seemed terribly drunk. She approached them then asked one of them after shaking him by the shoulder, saying in a calm voice: "Excuse me, sir, where is the ship heading to the Faroe Islands?" He looked at her with a frown, then burped, releasing his disgust towards her face, making her feel nauseous and put her hand over her nose. But he pushed her, making her fall to the ground, causing her to moan softly, holding her waist. He stood up with difficulty, saying after the wine bottle fell from his hands and he leaned against the barrel next to him: "Damn you, get away from here!" He immediately started vomiting, but she quickly stood up, dusting off imaginary dirt from her clothes, then continued her search. It took a while; no one answered her. Everyone she asked either was drunk and pushed her to the ground, or grabbed her arm, pulling her to assault her. She stood absentmindedly at the wooden pier, exhausted, her eyes teary, but refusing to cry. She quickly rubbed her arm over them, wiping away the wetness. Then she felt someone approaching her. She quickly turned and backed away with frightened steps, ready to run... She would have fallen into the sea if the man hadn't managed to grab her, pulling her towards him. She was scared and trembling, yet she refused to show him that. He looked like a strange man, and his clothes confirmed he was a pirate: a black pirate hat with a red ribbon, gloves, and a belt carrying keys and two weapons. He looked very flashy. He put his hands behind his back, bowing to her, saying: "What's a little girl doing out so late at night in this place?" She clasped her arms together in a defensive posture so she wouldn't be hit, but he didn't touch her, and when she noticed that, she finally looked directly into his eyes, her own scanning his features... His eyes held a strange glint she didn't understand, because hers were empty and she felt nothing. The strange thing was that her fear of him had vanished. True, she was nervous, but she was sure he wouldn't harm her, and she didn't know why. So she answered him in a trembling voice: "I'm looking for a ship heading to the Faroe Islands." "Are you running away?" The blood froze in her veins and words stuck in her throat as she looked at him, because if she continued speaking, her secret would be revealed due to her trembling voice, and he would know, and perhaps return her to the palace after catching her. So she decided to flee from him, and her first steps to run appeared, but he stopped her before she could get away: "Alright, so you're running away." She didn't answer him, but tried to push him away and not cry. Her breaths were trembling, but he quickly relaxed his grip on her hand without letting go: "I'll take you to the Faroe Islands." Dorothea stopped moving, as if time itself had stopped for her when he agreed to take her. He slowly released her hand then motioned with his fingers for the price: "How much will you pay?" At that moment, she nodded slightly and remembered what she was hiding in her clothes. She pulled out the bag, showing it to him: "Here it is. I'll give it all to you." "Is it stolen?" His tone was sarcastic, coming from a runaway girl her age, but she frowned, replying: "I'm not a thief. It's mine." He was about to reach for it, but she quickly pulled back, saying: "I won't give it to you until you take me... not now." A faint laugh escaped his lips. He quickly adjusted his hat, lowering his head, saying: "A runaway girl and a smart one." He nodded after scanning her carefully, then turned to leave, his hands behind his back. She thought he was refusing, so she felt disappointed, believing what she wanted wouldn't happen. Her sad, choked sigh reached his ears, even though he wasn't against taking her. Then he stopped, and without turning to her or letting her see his smile, he said in a tone trying to hide his laughter: "We'll leave tonight... in two days." Dorothea breathed a sigh of relief and fell to the ground, holding her heart, which was trembling with fear. This man's presence had stolen her breath away, and she began to feel strange things because of his eyes, as if he had just awakened something in her... something she hadn't felt in 12 years. She returned to the palace stealthily, just as she had left it, and headed to her room to sleep. But despite all the tiredness and exhaustion she felt from the torture, which should have made her fall asleep quickly, she couldn't sleep. She couldn't close her eyes because every time she tried, she saw the man's image. Two days passed, and it was time for her to go, but she wouldn't forget what she had planned before that, and it was impossible for her to give up her revenge. Her hands trembled at what she was about to do, and she felt her heart pounding in her throat from fear, but she was determined. She gathered the few things she needed, making sure the money and map were there, and a single cloak to warm herself from the cold sea. She also took her cross, which had belonged to her deceased mother. She waited until her father and stepmother were asleep, then walked through the palace corridors, carrying a large lantern in her hand. She went to the dining hall, taking a rope with her. She struggled to hang it from the ceiling; it was a gallows rope she had prepared. Then she gathered every lantern she could find and haphazardly poured oil on the floor. She entered her father's room on tiptoe, carrying a dagger. She was unnaturally calm for a girl about to do what was in her head. Then she approached his bed, step by step, until she stood directly over him, staring. She bit her cheek to prevent any feeling of fear, and in a faint voice, she said as she brought the dagger close to his heart: "Please, Lord, forgive me." She stabbed him directly and accurately in his heart, making his blood splatter onto her face. At that moment, her breaths began to tremble and quicken, just like her hand. She gathered what courage she had left and pulled out the dagger, then stabbed him several more times in different places due to her fear, closing her eyes tightly. Meanwhile, her stepmother, deeply asleep, moved towards her father's side, slowly opening her eyes, surprised by the horror of the sight. She was about to scream, but Dorothea lunged at her, climbing onto the bed and stabbing her in the stomach. She didn't let her move further, stabbing her again, but in the face. Dorothea moved away from them, her eyes scanning them, while she wiped the blood from her face with her arm. Because of the smell and the disgusting sight before her, she vomited, but she composed herself and went back to her father, pulling him by his foot, dragging him to the hall where she had hung the gallows. It took her a long time to drag a dead man, whose weight was many times her size, and take him where she wanted. She finally hung him, then finished emptying the oil on the floor. She put on the bag she needed, and before lighting the fire, she looked at her father's corpse and made the sign of the cross, saying: "May God forgive me." She lit the fire and ran out of the castle, leaving it to be devoured by the flames. Adrenaline surged powerfully through her body, making her run faster than she could, heading towards the ship without caring about the pain that still lingered on her body. The pirate was relaxing in a chair, his hat over his face, his head tilted back, and his feet resting on a box next to him. At first glance, he seemed to be asleep, but he was anything but. One of his men approached him, asking: "Captain, we're late. Are you waiting for someone?" His captain didn't reply, only increasing the sound of his snoring as if he truly were asleep, making the man shake his head and scan the area for a minute... two minutes until the pirate lifted the hat from his face, gesturing excitedly: "Raise the sails! We're leaving!" Each of them set off to do his job and raise the anchor, but a loud, steadily increasing scream caught their attention: "Wait... I'm coming!" A cunning and excited laugh escaped his lips. Then he straightened up, put on his hat properly, and stood, advancing to the edge, saying: "Throw a rope! We have a guest!" When Dorothea saw them setting off and that he had seen her, she truly felt happy at that moment... as if she had been freed from her bonds. She was free. She didn't stop running until she reached the ship, and immediately, without turning around, she jumped powerfully, grabbing the rope for them to pull her up. She landed on the deck, panting, her breath almost gone, in front of everyone's surprised eyes, wondering about her and her connection to their captain. It took her a while to catch her breath and stop her hand from trembling. Only then did she raise her head to look at the person she had fallen at the feet of. She stared at him calmly, without a reaction, as if waiting for him to speak first. He quickly responded because he saw it in her eyes, and because she was the youngest, and more than that, because she was the bravest. Without bowing to her, he said hoarsely, with his hands behind his back: "You're late. That fire you lit is fading." She raised her eyebrows at his words, then quickly stood up, moving to the edge, staring at the location of their palace, which was engulfed in flames. She could see it from there, so she frowned then turned to him: "Who told you it was me?" "Your blood-stained clothes, little one." Dorothea swallowed hard, trying to stay calm. To avoid scaring her further, the pirate immediately gave the order to set sail at full speed. Dorothea sat in a corner of the ship, watching the men, especially the captain. When her eyes landed on him, she only wanted to do one thing: smile. His black hair had rebellious strands across his forehead, and the moonlight reflecting in his honey-colored eyes made him even more handsome, despite being a pirate. He turned to her, giving her one of his many cunning smiles that she would see throughout her journey. What made her feel at ease was the men's indifference towards her here, meaning none of them would assault her, which was all she wanted until she reached the Faroe Islands. She opened her eyes in the morning to find herself covered in a warm cloak. She stood up, feeling disoriented. She was fine and felt nothing, just as she had been since yesterday. She immediately bent down to her bag, finding her belongings as she had left them. Then she ran her fingers through her hair, lifting it, swallowing hard. When she turned, she saw the captain... She saw him in the same position on his chair, body relaxed, feet on a box, and his face covered by his hat... He seemed to be sleeping, but she didn't pay much attention, simply sitting still in her spot. It seemed it was still early, as no one else was awake. She didn't know how she had fallen asleep so quickly yesterday, nor who had covered her, but she was grateful for it. Everyone woke up, and the sounds of the crew members began to rise, except for the one next to her. She watched them carefully, how they prepared their food and how they fished. Moments later, she heard her stomach rumble, and she pressed her hand against it to stop her hunger. She didn't approach them or ask for food, but soon the captain stood up, removing his hat from his face, yawning and stretching his arms: "If you're hungry, learn to fish by yourself. No one here will feed you." It took her a moment to understand him. Then she stood up, saying in a grumbling tone: "But I paid you for that!" He stopped stretching lazily, then said to her after she turned slightly: "Give me my money. That was just the price for taking you, not feeding you." "You're a cheat!" After what she said, he frowned and quickly advanced towards her, making her back away until she hit the edge: "Our agreement was for me to take you to the Faroe Islands. We didn't agree on feeding you. Now, where's my money?" She had no other choice, or he would kill her. So she took the money and gave it to him. He opened the bag and counted the amount inside with a wide smile that was different from his previous ones. He closed it and hung it on the belt at his waist, then left her even more shocked than she was scared... There was a group of crew members gathered for fishing, so she approached them and said calmly: "How can I work like you? I want to fish." They all looked at each other at once, then burst out laughing, mocking her request, which made her eyes fill with tears. So she backed away, wanting to return to her spot, but one of them stopped her, saying: "Come closer, little one. We have an extra fishing rod for you." She smiled faintly at that; she felt happy inside, as if she had won a prize... She took the fishing rod from the man's hands, and he taught her how to fish, so she followed his instructions precisely... It took her quite some time until she felt her fishing rod being pulled, confirming that a fish was on it. So, with a childish display of strength, she pulled it up with the help of the same man who taught her, after he felt pity for her and because he refused to follow his captain's orders... Although she was young, it was satisfying for her, as it was the first time she had done something on her own. Not only that, but the others cheered for her, clapping for what she had done. She looked around, laughing, until her eyes fell on their captain, who was leaning on his elbows on the other side, staring at her with a wide smile, adjusting his hat as if congratulating her, and this made her happy... Then she carried it and ran towards him in a sweet way, then stood opposite him, frowning, challenging him: "I'll become like you... a pirate!" A chuckle escaped his lips as he looked at her: "You??... The maximum you'll survive is reaching the Faroe Islands." "I'm serious! I'll become a pirate like you, or I'll kill you!" She said that sharply, yelling at him as if ordering him, which made them laugh loudly, tearing up from seeing their captain being challenged by a cute girl. And before she walked away from him, she asked him in a calm tone: "What's your name?... How should I call you? I'm Dorothea." "Call me Jackin... Jackin Hagar." It's truly harsh when your hell is the place you were born in, and your source of safety is the most unfamiliar place you never expected to be. Dorothea is now living the thing she wanted most before, and the thing she wished for most in her life. She learned to fish and learned to differentiate between poisonous fish and others after Jackin forced her to eat them until she got sick. She tried to kill him every time he dozed off, but he would catch her and hang her on the edge of the ship, threatening to throw her to the whales... She caught a lot and learned to skillfully use her dagger, becoming adept at flipping it between her fingers. Most importantly, she laughed a lot with them, and her eyes finally sparkled. She wasn't afraid with them, nor hesitant about anything she wanted. She even became chatty and talked a lot, just like Jackin... She woke up in the morning and found herself, as usual, on his warm bed, sleeping on it while he spent his night outside. She rubbed her eyes, then went out to find him standing. This was the first time since she boarded the ship that she found him awake at this hour... She looked around and saw the horizon in the distance; it looked like land was starting to appear. As she leaned on the edge, staring at it, and Jackin stood beside her, something inside her wanted not to go to the Faroe Islands. She wanted to continue with them, and Jackin knew that well. But before she could say a word, he told her: "There's a boat prepared for you. The distance to that island is short. You can go alone. Learn to row." Something in his tone was sad, even though his expression remained the same. This wasn't just a farewell; it was a new chapter opening on her life's page, a page where the pirate who had become her teacher and refuge in these days wouldn't be. Jackin was staring at her as he never had before, as if trying to etch her image into his memory before the waves swallowed her again. And she didn't argue with him, but only nodded in agreement, then gathered her belongings. Some of them lowered the boat first, and before she could get in and go down, Jackin stopped her... His stiff hands held a cold metal piece engraved with ancient symbols—etchings that told a secret known only to the sea and fate... and him... "Take it." Dorothea looked at the metal piece, her small fingers touching its surface. She felt its warmth despite its coldness and raised her eyes to his face, finding him flipping its twin between his fingers: "What is this?" "It says 'Everyone must live.' Those are runes. Mine has the opposite: 'Everyone must die.' It seems like a curse, right? They say if you say it to someone before they leave, you'll definitely meet them again." "Why do you keep the one about death then?" "Because you're young. That's why I gave it to you. If we happen to meet again, give it back to me." She didn't need to ask him, because it was clear from his eyes that he was sad to part with her. But he hated farewells very much, like her crying and him crying and hugging her. That would make things more complicated. So he gave her a boat to get out of his sight, otherwise he'd throw her into the sea... She got into the boat without taking her eyes off him. And because she bothered him, he groaned and leaned his arms on the edge: "It's a sign, my little one, a symbol of an inevitable meeting. Any two who have one, no matter how far apart they are, and no matter how many years pass, they will meet again sooner or later. The sea doesn't forget, and fate doesn't make mistakes..." His voice was calm, but it carried an undeniable certainty. Dorothea looked at the piece again, her lips slightly parted. She wanted to say something, anything... But words failed her. For weeks of sailing, Jackin stood beside her with his entire crew, but now... he was leaving her? She looked around first: her boat, two oars, and her bag. What then? She looked up at him, as if challenging the decision with her hazel eyes: "You're lying. You're just saying that so I won't ask you to take me with you." Jackin smiled at her, that smile that didn't resemble joy but resembled the sea when it's calm: "And you're lying to yourself. You know it's time to leave. Piracy isn't for you, and I can't carry you with me forever. Get out of my sight!" Her chin trembled a little, but he adjusted his hat, deliberately not letting her see him and her tears defeat him further: "Remember, the sea gives and takes, just like life. Nothing stays the same..." Then he looked up at the sky, narrowing his eyes slightly as he recalled ancient words, like a prophecy he had heard from a priest one day, a prophecy he hadn't believed until now, but he spoke them to her in a voice that reached her: "In this world, everyone sails... some return to port, and some become part of the sea. But when the sky opens and the storm swirls around itself... the two seas will meet, and they will meet again..." Silence fell between them. Dorothea didn't know if that prophecy truly referred to them, or if he said it to bind them forever, but he wasn't a man to utter words carelessly. She closed her fingers around the metal piece, pressing it tightly, as if clinging to it as a substitute for him: "I won't forget." Jackin only nodded and didn't say goodbye, because pirates don't believe in goodbyes, only new meetings, even if they come after a lifetime. He quickly gestured with his hand to the right: "Head there. You'll reach the island quickly." He didn't add another word, pretending he didn't care, except that his foolish companions bid her a warm farewell, tears streaming from their eyes. She began rowing, and her distance gradually increased. Then the first tear fell from her eyes, making her laugh softly and see his wide smile. Only then did she realize that the sparkle in his eyes was the sparkle of life... a sparkle that gave her hope to live again and not give up... That sparkle was what made her learn everything in a short time, thanks to him... When she tried to kill him, he was training her. When he forced her to eat that fish, it was so she would know the difference between them. And when she refused to sleep in his place, he would carry her to his bed after she fell asleep so she wouldn't get sick. At that, she stood up, wiping her eyes, waving at him from afar, shouting loudly so he could hear her: "Everyone must live... Jackin, you cheat! The way you showed me was wrong!" She breathed heavily, stopping the catch in her voice. His choice of the wrong path was so she would get lost and he would find her again to stay with them. But she wasn't stupid, and she knew that well. Then she continued, saying: "Thank you very much... I won't forget you." "Silly girl," Jackin mumbled under his breath, then sighed in annoyance because her voice was loud and he heard her clearly, which bothered him greatly. To make her stop talking that way, he turned to her then said in her same manner: "I'll come to the Faroe Islands next time. If you don't make them bow to you, I'll kill you... Dorothea Hammer!" This was what she wanted to hear from him. Then Dorothea returned to her place, rowing again, but she noticed her bag was slightly bulging. She opened it and found two bags of money instead of one, and a paper written inside one of them. She picked it up and read what was on it: "Damn you, you'll need this a lot on your journey." A wide and beautiful smile spread across her face, as beautiful as Jackin's smile and with the same sparkle in his eyes. Then she turned to see that she was close to reaching her destination. And this was the beginning of her journey, where her fate would be written... ✨ "To my feathers soaring with me in this world, the chapter ends here, but the journey continues... Until we meet again, stay free as the wings of the wind. 🕊️✨" -- The End --
