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I shook the thoughts from my head and walked outside. Aya and Diego hung out on the porch, and just as Diego had warned me, a good twenty or so people mingled together outside in period attire.
Most were men, though a few women added to their numbers, and they clustered around a tall and burly man. He had blond hair shaved on both sides of his head and the rest pulled back into a ponytail, and tattoos littered his light skin.
Even though he stood with his back to me, and he had an imposing aura about him, there was something… familiar about him.
One person noticed me, turning their attention my way. Then another. And then another. As they did, their faces flickered to life memories deep within me.
The man in front of me turned around last. His green eyes went wide. “Astrid.”
Silence filled the air. My pulse fluttered under my skin, memories licking the back of my mind, but not quite surfacing.
“It really is you,” the man said. “Aya wasn’t pulling a fast one on us.”
“I told you I wasn’t,” Aya muttered. “No faith in me. The hell has happened to our followers? Seriously.”
Laughter rumbled through the gathered people, though all of this barely registered with me. I stared at the man, and took a step closer.
He smiled. “Do you remember me, Astrid?”
All at once, memories flashed through my mind of a man who would have been my husband had it not been for a chance offer to a god my father made when he delivered our family from injustice. A man who became a close friend when I encouraged him to follow his heart, and who I practiced my magic on to ready for the time I’d finally join battles or raids.
The man before me became a confidant when I found my immortality, a shoulder to cry on, and to equally console when we both lost our fathers to the same battle, and then later when I lost my brother. The man I helped through his own ascension to immortality when his time came.
A smile pulled up my face so high, my cheeks hurt, and warmth nearly exploded out of my chest. “Bjarke!”
I launched off the porch, ignoring all the steps. Bjarke caught me in his arms and spun me around. I hugged him tight around the neck and laughed, my chest swelling.
When he finally put me down, I smiled up at him and found myself crowded. Each person—each face, I knew, and put a name to. “What are you all doing here, growly pants?”
Bjarke skimmed his hair. “Aya asked her to help with some cultural festival she was putting on. She wouldn’t tell us why, but was insistent we needed to help. Since it’s her, we agreed.”
“Then she sprang it on us right before teleporting us here, that it had to do with you,” Aric, a tan, middle-aged man with graying golden-brown hair, said.
I nodded. “That makes sense. My safety hinged on no one knowing about my existence until now.”
Bjarke shook his head. “This is just so surreal. You’re really here. And… you did die, right? You look different, but…”
Iboopedhis nose. “It’s a long story. But, yes, I died. A lot of magic was used to bring me back, but not as I was. I was born and lived a brand new life, and I’m still recovering memories from the past. We’re hoping what’s missing will recover during this festival and it’ll help us find the shifter who killed me.”
The air around us tensed, and Bjarke snarled a bear-like snarl. “They’re still alive?”
I nodded. “We’re fairly certain it’s an immortal wolf shifter.”
A chorus of wolf and bear-like snarls echoed around me. It sent a shiver down my spine, though not an unpleasant one. I knew this sound so intimately. I’d lived with these Berserkers. I’d fought with them. I’d experienced their protectiveness. It was nice, even after all this time, they’d provide that to me again.
Bjarke’s head twitched, a sign he was fighting a shift. “Whatever you need, you’ve got it from us.”
I smiled. “I know I can always count on all of you. Is this all of you who have managed to survive after all this time?”
Bjarke rocked his head. “A few stayed in Runavík, not hearing this was all being done for you. Others either died during the war with Odin, or unfortunately met their end during the various purges the mortals caused.”
My fists clenched. The very idea that those I once cared for met such horrific, prejudiced ends infuriated me. “I’m surprised Runavík is still around.”
He grunted. “What, do you think I’d give up my Jarl position? No. Randi, one of Leif’s descendants, still lives back home. She erected a protective barrier there to keep us hidden. You won’t find Runavík on any map.”
My back straightened.A descendant of Leif’s?I wondered how many were out there after Aya had mentioned some of the family line still existed.
“You’re always welcome home,” he said. “Those who stayed behind will be kicking themselves for missing this. Townsfolk who have only grown up hearing your stories will want to meet the legend herself. And I’m sure you’ll want to meet Randi.”
