War Shaman Hertha Korisdottir was waiting for him with his horse as he exited the glowing path to the Hearg of Life.

“About time you got back, Sorry.” She smiled down at him from atop her horse. “We were starting to worry you were dead.”

The sky was bright and sunny with no clouds at all. If he hadn’t exited the forest, he would have assumed he was still in the Hearg. The rain that had been pouring down when he’d entered was gone.

“How long was I gone for?” He asked, it hadn’t seemed to him as much time had passed at all.

“Nearly a month.” Hertha answered.

“A month!?” Ethan panicked. He had thought it had been only a few hours, a day at most. His guild must be freaking out at him having been gone so long.

“No, Sorry, you were in the Hearg for two days.” She laughed uproariously at her own joke. “Time passes strange in Ve’s Hearg, but not that strangely.”

Ethan shook his head as he walked around to his mare. She nuzzled his face in welcome as he got close.

“How did you know I’d be done?” He asked Hertha after he was seated in his saddle.

“A certain fox let me know that my pupil had met with Ve and would be needing help to get home.” She said, smiling and passing him his reins. “Reás also said you were exactly as dense as I’d told him.”

Ethan rolled his eyes at the mention of the Fire Vættr.

“Is Reás always so… sarcastic.” He asked her.

“Yes.”

The ride back to Skaro was much more calm and comfortable than the trip to the Hearg of Life had been. The beautiful day was infinitely better than the cold rain had been.

With Hertha in front of him, for the first time in weeks, Ethan swiped to open his character sheet. Having completed the Trial of Life, he should have finished his class quest and game functions would be restored.

***System Notice: You are currently in a quest restricted area. Character information and messaging will not be available until completion of the quest.***

What the hell? Ethan was confused. I guess there’s still another step.

With a gentle nudge, he urged his mare to catch up to Hertha.

“Elder, did I not finish my training when I completed the Trial of Life?” He asked, still puzzled.

“There is one more step, Sorry.” Hertha smiled wryly, not taking her eyes off the road ahead of her.

“More mediation?” He asked with a groan.

“Something like that.”

The rest of their ride was completed in silence. Ethan was preoccupied with what he would have to do next and Hertha seemed content to not tell him anything more.

As they approached the wooden palisade, Ethan remembered the first time he’d approached the walls. He’d been nervous about what he was going to experience. Sentries had eyed him cautiously from their watchtowers as he approached gripping their weapons tightly. Siv and Torag met him armed to defend their town from an outsider.

Now, riding with the War Shaman, the sentries waved at him, spears leaning against the walls. He felt calm and at peace. Siv and Torag were once again waiting for them, but the rest of the armed war party was nowhere to be seen.

“Welcome home War Shaman.” Siv said, smiling at her grandmother. “I see your pupil has returned as well.”

“Yes, young Ethan has-“

“Enough formalities. Is he Úlfeòinn or Berserkir?” Torag interjected, smiling at Ethan.

Siv held her hand to her face and shook her head. Ethan was confused. He’d assumed Úlfeòinn was a Shamanic title, but Torag seemed to know differently.

“Ethan Úlfeòinn,” she said as Torag groaned. “Has completed the Trial of Life and rejoined us.”

Siv laughed as Torag handed her several coins.

“I feel like I’ve missed something.” He said, looking between the three of them.

“Torag’s grandfather was Berserkir, a “bear-shirt”. The great bear accepted to be his totem, and he bet that the bear would choose you as well.” Siv smiled as she pocketed her winnings.

“So what does Úlfeòinn mean?” He asked Hertha.

“‘Wolf-skin’. It is the title of the Shaman who has been accepted by the Dire Wolf.” She turned back to Siv. “Now, War Leader, May we please enter the town? I still have items to discuss with my student.”

“As you command, Grandmother.” Siv bowed extremely low and allowed them into the gates.

“Wait here.” Hertha instructed Ethan once they had entered her home. The sketches of the elements she’d drawn so many times for him in the dirt were long gone, the racks still held weapons and the incense burned its familiar sweet smoke.

He watched as she went to a large wooden chest and leaned over to open it. A heavy cloth obscured his vision of the large item she took from the chest, but the way she held and carried it told him it was something extremely important.

“When you first came here, I am sure you saw that everyone in the town was wary of you.” She said, setting the wrapped item between them as she sat down. “Including myself.”

Ethan nodded silently. He knew the reason for his cold welcoming. Torag and Siv had told him of the demonic attack and he’d seen the Hearg of the Fallen.

“I could sense the spark of a connection to the Vættir, but that wasn’t enough for me to make my decision immediately.”

“I understand, War Shaman. You lost so much and have so many to protect.” Ethan did not hold ill feelings towards his, without her he never would have come to the balance he currently felt.

“Thank you Sorry.” She smiled at him. Tears formed in her eyes, but Ethan wasn’t sure why.

“Nevertheless, you have proven yourself worthy. Both to myself and to the Vættir.” She began untying the heavy cord wrapped around the mysterious item on the ground.

“In our second lesson, I took something from you. And I think it is time I returned it.” She said, unwrapping one end of the cloth.

Ethan found himself holding his breath. Did she have my axe repaired? It was only the handle that was broken, the head could have easily been fitted to a new one.

But as Hertha continued unwrapping the package, he saw it was not one long handle but two shorter ones made of beautifully stained dark wood.

“It is tradition for a teacher to bestow a gift on their student when they have finished their initiation as a Shaman.” Hertha said, unveiling twin intricately tooled leather scabbards. “And after watching you train with my granddaughter, I decided on the perfect weapons.”

Tentatively, Ethan reached out and took the swords from her hands. He couldn’t see the blades yet, but the shape of the scabbards was odd. The blades looked like they tapered to a sharp point about halfway to the hilts and they had no guards.

Initiate’s Broken-Back Seax

One handed Sword

Quality: Rare

20-30 slashing damage

15-25 fire damage

15-25 cold damage

20-35 nature damage

Twin notifications quickly flashed into his vision and Ethan tried to discreetly close them out. Despite his earlier attempt to open his character information, he wasn’t quite ready for an unwanted reminder that he was almost finished with his questline and about to return to the outside world.

Carefully he placed one of the swords on the ground in front of him and withdrew the other from its scabbard. He was surprised to see that what he thought was the blade was actually the back of the weapon. The edge extended down the longer side, making the seaxes look closer to long machetes than actual swords. As he examined the metal further, he saw smooth ripples in the steel that looked like waves of water. Whoever had forged these swords was clearly more skilled than Daniel currently was.

“I had thought to simply give you another axe, but a seax is the traditional weapon of the Úlfeòinn.” Hertha explained. “You fight with ferocity and tenacity. With these weapons you will cut your way through a battlefield like a wolf.”

“Thank you teacher.” Ethan said, slightly distracted as he inspected the other sword.

He’d loved fighting with an axe so far, the power of crushing skulls and severing limbs with a single blow had been addicting. But now that he truly felt in control of his own inner rage, Ethan could see Hertha was correct. Using two swords would force him to be conscious of every attack, requiring more skill and an even temper that his former axe had. I’m glad Siv forced me to train with two weapons. He thought to himself.

“Stand up Sorry, let me see how they look on you.” She said, her smile extending to her eyes as she stood.

Hertha had to help him attach the scabbards to his belt. The oddly shaped swords didn’t connect to his harness as he would have expected, instead they hung horizontally from his belt across his back with the angular back of the weapon at the top.

“Now,” she said after inspecting that his swords were properly attached, “normally after a Shaman completes the Trials of Life, we celebrate with a massive feast and celebration. But I suspect you are starting to feel pulled back to your previous life.”

Ethan frowned. He had loved his time in Skaro, but during the weeks he’d spent there he had been worried about his guild. Being so cut off from them had helped him complete his quest, but Hertha was right. Now that he was done, he was beginning to feel a pull back towards them.

“You are correct, I need to return to them.” He said, then realized how that had sounded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to refuse Skaro’s generosity so quickly. It’s just, Ve referred to them as my ‘pack’ and She wasn’t wrong. I miss them.”

“I understand.” The grandmotherly look he’d seen on her face when he’d first arrived in Skaro returned to her face. “Siv might not, but I do.”

“What do you mean?” Ethan stopped right in front of the door, taken back by her statement.

“Blind as well as dense.” Hertha shook her head at him as she opened the door the brilliant morning sun.

Ethan stepped outside and turned back to his teacher.

“Thank you, again, War Shaman.” He said, bowing his head. “You helped me more than you know.”

Hertha Korisdottir said nothing, but grinned and inclined her head at him before turning back to her home.

Ethan returned to the shack he’d been staying in for the last few weeks, still getting used to the new weight in his belt. He was surprised to see that Torag was standing outside waiting for him.

“Well, Úlfeòinn, I guess I can’t be too disappointed that the bear did not choose you.” He said, shaking his head with a smile. “Even in training, I could see you favored a wolfish style of fighting.

“Thank you Torag.” He said with pride. “I think I’m actually going to miss our sparing after I leave.”

“Wait, you’re not staying?” Torag looked appalled. “But we’re going to have a feast!”

“I know, I just have to get back to my home. I have people waiting for me.” He nervously ran his hand over the shaved part of his head, still not used to part of his head being bald. “But also, I know only like three people here. It would be a little awkward, for me, to have so many people fawn over me at a big feast.”

“You are Skarobjorn now, Ethan Úlfeòinn.” Torag spread his arms wide in defeat. “But I will not stand in your way. If you must leave, then you must leave.”

“Thank you Torag.” Ethan reached his hand out to the much taller man. Torag roughly grabbed it, and pulled Ethan in for an embrace.

“But I will still get drunk in your honor, brother.” He said as he squeezed Ethan.

“I’d expect nothing less, brother.” Ethan said, his voice muffled by Torag’s chest.

“Travel well, and return soon.” Torag said, releasing Ethan.

After Torag had left him, Ethan entered the shack and began gathering the few belongings he had there. Having spent most of his time training and meditating, it wasn’t much, mainly just his armor. He decided that instead of trying to force the bulky metal armor into his small satchel, having not received a notice he had access to his inventory, he’d be better off equipping it.

Several minutes later as he was about to buckle the straps of his bracers, he was interrupted by a knock at his door.

“Come in.” He said, not turning around.

“Your armor is looking a little tight.” Siv’s voice came from behind him.

She was right. His hours of training with her had increased the size of his muscles, Ethan found leather chest armor was more than a little snug.

“I think I have you to thank for that.” He said warmly, glad she’d come to see him instead of him having to chase her down.

“You’re a good student. You learned quickly.” He could tell by the way she was standing there was something more she wanted to say.

“You’re a good teacher.”

“Thank you.” She blushed, as she looked down at him. “Torag said you were leaving.”

“Yeah, I need to get back to my home.” He said, tossing a bracer that didn’t seem to want to buckle over his forearm to his pallet. “I have people waiting for me.”

“Then I should give you my gift now then.” She said coyly.

“Uhhh…” Ethan stammered out as she reached behind her back to, he assumed, unbuckle her armor.

“You’re too easy, Sorry.” She laughed as she tossed a leather bag to him from the doorway.

“What is it?” He looked down and the package and then back Siv as he untied the strings holding the bag closed.

Ethan fumbled with the bag and finally pulled out the contents. His eyes went wide as he finally pulled her gift out of the bag.

In his hands he held a set of sturdy leather bracers. A wolf’s head, carved from iron was in the middle of each one. Ethan went to gently run his fingers over the metal figure and found it extremely cold to touch.

“Is this…?” He stammered out, confused and amazed.

“Your axehead.” Siv walked across the room and began lacing the first one on his left arm. “After grandmother broke your weapon, I had it melted down and created into these. Do you like it?”

“Siv, thank you.” After accepting the seaxes, he hadn’t given another thought to what had happened to his old weapon. “They’re beautiful.”

“I’m glad. Gistal threw a fit when I asked him to make them.” She said as she tied the other bracer to his arm.

“Travel well Ethan Úlfeòinn.” She said, quietly before leaning forward and kissing him on the mouth.

Before Ethan could react, she released him and was out the door. Leaving Ethan stunned.