The Son Of Ragnar

Tyr was exiled, and he had just slaughtered Erik like the dog he was but he lacked the experience to survive on his own. He wandered, he had an invitation from King Rugalf but Tyr knew he was not ready for that lifestyle right now.

pαпdα Йᴏνê|,сòМ He was a warrior and he needed to tame his animalistic side, he knew he loved killing and understood that he was closer to Erik than he was to anyone else.

But he had no intentions of becoming like Erik, Tyr knew winter was near and the chances of his survival were low.

Tyr used an inhumane tactic to gather food while the sun still shone, he injured animals just enough to immobilize them so they don't rot, leaving them alive but in a crippled state.

He fed them and cared for them but when winter came, the freezing effect brought forth by this weather made preserving the food easier, he did not need to keep them alive anymore as he had enough food to last him through the first winter and their skin served as the extra layer of clothing he so desperately needed.

Tyr, however, wanted to explore his environment and ventured out into the wild to see what lurked in these parts.

But he feared shutting his eyes, he was frightened because of the recurring nightmares getting more vivid. But each time he slept, it felt like he was recovering lost parts of himself.

And three faces became clearer, these were the faces of his slavers.

Tyy knew finding them was the first step to finding himself, they would know where he came from, they had to know something but Tyr did not even know where he could look.

But he knew he needed to start the moment winter was over. Unfortunately for Tyr, he would soon run into a group of savages and everything he knew about combat was destroyed.

They were not only fast, but they also had an unorthodox fighting style and had inflicted multiple injuries on him before he could even raise his weapon.

He tried to fight without blinking but it was impossible, and the moment he did, they vanished.

It was like they moved out of his line of sight and into his blind spot, this should not be possible.

A blink takes less than a second so it was clear they had an unparalleled level of observation and unnatural speed. Tyr tried to run, he gave up his pride and chose survival, but no matter how far he ran, they always found him.

He wondered how because he covered up his tracks and like a prey, he remained in hiding for as long as he could remember, until that fateful day. The day he ran into Skol.

"W-What do you want!?" Tyr was horrified, these people could not be humans, and there was no way they could be. He had fled from them and ended up at a dead-end, the only escape was to jump down from a hill but death was the imminent result from such height.

"We are savages, we do not want anything but prey…" Skol said and Tyr noticed they were a lot more, the blistering snow camouflaging the majority of them. But he knew their numbers were on the high side.

Tyr knew he would not survive if he fought Skol, he had the primal instincts of Erik and right now, his body was telling him to run away but he knew if he did, he would only keep running.

He had to fight against that instinct, and he stood his ground against Skol, he was trembling yet he stayed. But he did not know if it was fear or he was cold.

Tyr made the first move, running in a circle in a bid to go around him, his speed was limited because of the snow.

But Skol looked straight ahead, he did not even move his head to try and follow Tyr's movement and just stayed stagnant, looking ahead.

Tyr launched an attack, attempting to jam his weapon into his temple but Skol caught the wrist of the boy, halting his weapon from ever reaching him.

Tyr struggled to break free from his grasp but the gap in their physical strength was overwhelming, he attempted to use his other hand but it met the same fate as his wrist got trapped beneath Skol's hand.

He began thrashing him around on the floor like he was a ragdoll, disarming him but Tyr was grateful for the snow on the ground because if it was not for it, he was certain he would have died. If he took this much damage even with the cushion, he could only imagine his fate without it.

He finally flung him a few feet from the edge of the cliff, Tyr had dislocated his right arm but he was still in functional condition. Skol was messing around at this point, he was more accustomed to the weather, this was his world and Tyr knew he was a rookie in it.

There was no way he was going to defeat Skol but he also knew he could not die disgraced like this and so he took a gamble.

Skol walked towards Tyr, dragging his sledgehammer along the ground to which Tyr bolted in the other direction, he leaped off the edge of the cliff and fell to his presumed death.

Tyr lost consciousness the moment he hit the ground, every part of his body echoed with pain, blood spilling out of his mouth. Even if the fall did not kill him, Tyr should very well be dead from this fall because this was the worst possible climate for one to lose consciousness in.

"A-Am I dead?" Tyr woke up from his slumber, but he found himself in a different location with a cast, this told him that someone saved him but who?

"I see, you are awake, child…" A voice said in the barely lighted cave, Tyr tried to make out the features of this man but it was impossible.

"W-Who are you…" Tyr stuttered, the pain still echoing throughout his body.

"I am no one but I went by the name Thorvald Asvaldsson…" The man introduced himself

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