Yngvar Chosen by the Gods

The drakkar was thrown over the waves like a dry chip. It seemed that the gods were determined to drown a detachment of northerners, who was returning from another raid on the southern villages. Clutching the bench for rowers, Ingvar prayed to Odin and asked how they had so angered the heaven. The heaven was in no hurry to respond, but only sent thunder and lightning down. When it seemed to people that the waves could not be higher and more terrible, the sea gave birth to a new water mountain. When the ears could no longer perceive the deafening sound of thunder, the clouds produced a sound that was heard not by the ears, but by the very bones and entrails.

In the morning the storm subsided. From a dozen once strong and formidable drakkars, only a scattering of boards and logs floating on the sea remained. Of the three hundred once strong and formidable warriors, only a handful of people exhausted by the storm, choking on salt water, remained. As it turned out later, water and the sun were not the only enemies of the northerners. With a thunderstorm, something entered the world of Signum that changed the sea and its inhabitants beyond recognition. Later, sages and astrologers spoke of a drop of blood of Vorthius, the great dragon, the creator of the world. But ordinary people, who were maimed and devoured by monstrous creatures that came from nowhere, had no time for wise theories.

Ingvar woke up on the same bench he clung to during the storm. With difficulty he straightened his bluish and swollen fingers and was surprised to find deep dents in the solid stained wood of the bench. He moved his hand, dispersing the blood, grabbed the edge of the board and squeezed harder. The wood, which had hardly yielded to the axe, crumpled like soft cheese. What is this? One heard prayers and rewarded for perseverance? The warrior was not inclined to philosophical reflections, he only grunted, moved his mighty shoulders and decided to row in the direction where, according to his assumptions, there could be land. He took the bench more comfortably, tried to straighten his legs under water … there were no legs. More precisely, they were, Ingvar saw them, saw the familiar scar under his left knee, feet with short fingers. But it was all foreign and distant. It felt like a void began below the belt. Struggling to understand how it happened, the man began to remember. The drakkar’s mast breaks from a lightning strike, falls on him, hits painfully on his back below the shoulder blades…

– Well. The gods gave, the gods took. – With these words, Ingvar pulled himself up on the bench, laid the body along it, tied his unruly legs to the boards with a belt and rowed him with his hands.

After several hours of non-stop rowing, Ingvar discovered another side of the divine gift. He did not feel tired, just as he did not feel his legs. Two hours at sea, three, five … the sun sank into the water, the moon came in its place, arced across the sky under the approving winks of the stars, and the man kept rowing and rowing. Only when dawn broke, the bench poked into the sand. Ingvar untied his legs, crawled away from the water, stumbled on a piece of some fabric along the way, crawled to the nearest bushes, settled his head on something soft and elastic and fell asleep.

Ingvar woke up from the stench and screams. The corpse he used as a pillow stank. And shouted Balder – a fellow raider, apparently also a survivor of a shipwreck. The reason for his cry just crawled out of the water onto land. Once it was a harmless seal, sad agate eyes were still visible on the muzzle. Right under the eyes began fangs, which the old walrus would envy. Instead of flippers, the creature had clawed paws, three pairs of paws, and six sets of claws. With a guttural growl and gurgling, the monster crawled towards the survivor. Behind him, the top of the heads of another dozen nightmarish seals rose from the water. A group of other survivors ran out of the forest to screams, but the forces were clearly not equal.

What happened next, the skalds sang for a long time in songs, and the old people told the children on winter evenings. Ingvar screamed. Not out of fear, but out of rage and anger. Ingvar removed the sword and axe from the body of the deceased comrade and crawled. Pushing off the ground with his elbows, skinning his stomach and chest on the stones, leaving behind a bloody trail. He crawled and screamed, screamed, screamed. Ingvar cut the first monster almost in half, the axe cut the skull and stopped only in the tail area. The second “seal” clung to the man’s leg, but with the same success he could cling to the trunk of a tree. Paying no attention to the load, Ingvar cut off the head of the third creature with his sword. The fourth blow of the spiked tail knocked the weapon out of his hand, but this did not stop the warrior. He grabbed the monster by the fangs, broke them and plunged the monster into the eye sockets. When all the nightmarish creatures of the sea were killed, the man smeared with blood and entrails turned around and saw two dozen men gazing dumbly at the carnage. One of them stepped forward and said:

– I don’t remember your name, I don’t know what kind you are from. But from now on, you are our leader. And we will follow you even on a raid, even into the jaws of demons. The gods see that a man who was able to defeat a horde of monsters with non-working legs is capable of any feats. I would be honored to serve such a hero. – After these words, the northerner knelt down and lowered his head. The rest of the survivors followed suit.

– I do not need subjects, I need associates and comrades. – Ingvar was surprised to find that the words that used to be given to him with difficulty now fly off the tongue on their own. – We have a long and difficult journey home. Who knows what monsters await us in the forests and valleys. I feel the strength in me to overcome this path, but how can I lead someone if I myself need to be carried?

– We will carry you and you will lead us! And so it will always be, you are now our leader! – Someone shouted, and the others picked up his cry. – Leader! Leader! Leader!!!

From the boards that remained from the drakkars, scraps of canvas and ropes, the men built a stretcher, on which they put Ingvar. For two weeks, the detachment moved through the lands, which, it seems, were affected by an unknown disease. Where once there were calm valleys, erupting volcanoes arose. Rivers and lakes teemed with bloodthirsty creatures. But the detachment went on and on, killing monsters, losing people, but steadily advancing in the direction where, as the northerners hoped, their native village was. By order of Ingvar, the stretcher was converted into a chair with large wooden wheels, and now the hero could roll ahead of his squad. In battles, this chair turned a mighty fighter into a death machine. In addition, strategic thinking and the ability to command in battle were added to strength, endurance and the ability to speak fluently, thanks to which the squad defeated more than one monster with minimal losses.

Eventually the men came back home. Their village, like the world around them, suffered from the Cataclysm, but still held on. A detachment of hardened warriors led by a mighty hero became what helped the settlement survive, strengthen and even, after some time, begin to expand. When the villagers felt safe, they held a feast in Ingvar’s honor, acknowledging him unconditionally as their leader. In the midst of the feast, another event happened, later sung by the skalds. A Valkyrie descended from heaven.

– Fearless warrior, god Odin rewards you for your deeds performed in his glory, and proclaims you Champion. From now on, you are the hand of a god in the mortal world. His rage and justice. Wear this title with honor!

Valkyrie flapped her wings and disappeared into the clouds. The numb people began to come to their senses, the feast continued. Beer flowed like a river, toasts were shouted out in honor of the warrior blessed by the gods. And only Ingvar himself sat, resting his chin on his fist. He thought that the Champion of Odin would not be content with one village. It was time to prepare for the raid.