Her first warning came as an everlasting sign of frequent pain. The second came as a head-splitting headache from the bowels of hell. The final warning: that shot her out of her slumber was the bright sunlight that poked through a hole in the ceiling. Not the tranquil; morning she'd hoped for. 

A small groan of pain escaped her lips, creating a great awareness of the pain that rippled; through her body. From; her head to her spine, the pain spread like wildfire and danced across her skin. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could move her from the soft hay and furs that lay underneath her. If the gods wouldn't of turn on; the lights to the morning sun, maybe she would, have slept in. 

Amirah turned on her side, trying to catch more shut-eye. Surely there wouldn't be any more disturbances to her suffering. Another groan escaped her lips when she heard raucous caws from a rooster. A final sigh escaped her lips as she leaned her upper body to sit up.

She cupped her hands over her face and sucked in a breath, hoping the day would be in her favour. Amirah still couldn't understand why she was brought here, nor could she conclude why: she was still here. She should have been dead in a coffin or training by now.

"How are you feeling?" Amirah's gaze cast toward the female voice. 

Helga stood at the door holding a small pile of clothes under one arm and a wooden bowl in her other hand. Her graceful footsteps wandered over to Amirah's bedside, placing down; the small pile of clothes and the wooden bowl.

"Like, I got hit by a train," Amirah stated while wiping the daze from the edges of her eyes.

The blond woman raised a brow, wondering what she meant. It didn't take long for Amirah to realize she had blundered with her words. 

"What I'm meaning; to say; is I feel great," she lied, sharing a reassuring smile with Helga.

"Wonderful. You're not going to want to miss what young Ironside has planned," A Swedish accent caught her attention. Amirah's gaze flickered over to Floki standing in the doorway. Before she could inquire what he told her, Floki turned his back and left.

 "What does he mean by that?" Amirah asked, removing the several pelts that covered; her legs.

"Ragnar is holding a trial in the afternoon in the Great Hall to decide the fate of the man who caused calamity toward you," she explained.

"Let's hope I don't get to my spear first because I will not be dragging his ass back with me," Amirah chuckled, hoping she didn't need to correct herself for the choice of weapon. 

"Well. . . I will leave you to dress. Just give me a shout if you need anything," Helga left the room, leaving Amirah to her thoughts.

Amirah turned her head toward a familiar dark uniform, noticing it was nicely folded next to the bowl of stew. She reached to pick the uniform up and stretched her arms forward, examining the jumper. A small smile formed at the corner of her lips when she saw the initial tear in her pant leg sewn together.

She wasted no time slipping on her uniform. Nothing could compare to how she felt at the moment. A contentful sigh escaped her lips when she felt the fabric touch; her skin. It was nice to be in a pair of pants again. After all, she felt like a turtle without a shell.

She reached for the wooden bowl, taking a moment to take in the wonderful fragrance of the stew. The rich smell of fresh veggies and cooked meat mixed in a savoury broth was something to die for.

It didn't take long for her to inhale the bowl of stew, notably when she chose not to eat anything the other night at the feast. More than anything, the gathering made her sick to her stomach.

Amirah reached down and tied the loose laces to her combat boots before heading out. While she passed each doorway, she noticed how cozy Helga and Floki's house was. It reminded her of a cabin and a cottage mixed. Many animal furs act like a comforting carpet to the naked, a small workbench with carving tools and beautiful woodwork across the home. There was no doubt that Floki was an expert crafter.

Amirah's curiosity peaked when she exited the home. There was so much she hadn't seen during the day. She knew throughout; the day was likely the safest time to travel rather than fighting off nightmares of the night.

Amirah started making her way to the Great Hall, remembering the directions from last night. 

On the other hand, Amirah made a note to herself to thank Bjorn properly. Last night was nothing close to a thank you - - and she regretted it. She felt as if she had choked on her pride, feeling slightly embarrassed that she was beaten in a fight. Of course, she had her wins, but last night wasn't like anything she'd faced.

"Amirah. . ." A sudden whisper caught her attention, cascading shivers down her spine.

She stopped in her tracks, scanning her surroundings for the owner of the; voice. No one but Bjorn, Helga, or Floki knew her name. It was strange for her to hear her name without witnessing the owner to the voice. She could have sworn; that voice could wake up the dead.

Her glossy gaze glanced at an odd building, noticing it was darker than all the others and oddly; shaped. The closer she got to the building, the more detail she noticed. The hut was on its last legs with rotting wooden rods. Several animal bones hung from strings around the shack like a concealed veil. It reminded her of the witch huts you see in films.

"Amirah. . ." She heard the voice again but more clearly than before.

The voice sounded closer than she thought. Too close for comfort, from something not of this world. Was it a sign?

Amirah gathered up the courage to enter the shack. She split the veil of bones and separated the two sides to enter. Her gaze cast toward a man in a cloak, sitting on several beams forged together to elevate him off the ground.

"How do you know my name?" Amirah called out, catching the attention of the being in the middle of the room.

Given the lack of light in the room, his face was obscured by shadows. (8000-word count)

"I know many names, especially the ones the gods whisper about," he replied in a horas voice like his throat was dry.

"How do I know if this isn't some kind of joke?" she asked without hesitation noticing, several other rune stones and bones hanging around the hut.

"I am just a Seer, nothing more. I can see your future, your calamity, and your past. It's all up to you whether you choose to believe," he replied in an informing tone.

Amirah's lips formed into a thin line: she wasn't a big fan of the supernatural. Though her options were running low, and so many questions needed answering. In contemplating meeting with the Seer, she considered sitting down and having a: short conversation with him.

She crouched down to his level and sat on her knees.

"What would you like to know?" he replied in a monotone voice.

Amirah thought about it for a moment. She had so many questions on her mind. She wanted to know if she was dreaming, she wanted to know why she was brought here, and she wanted to know if she would see her brother in the afterlife. So many questions needed answering.

"I want to know what the gods were whispering about me," she declared, knowing she could make him answer an easy question.

"They whispered about a storm gusting from the north and reigning on the south. They whisper about a warrior who has come to seek forgiveness." The Seer explained, hoping to give her insight and answers: to her questions.

Amirah knit her brows. She felt more confused by the minute.

What did he mean: seek forgiveness?

So many questions ran like a churning tide through her head. She seeks answers, not confusion.

"What do you mean, forgiveness? I do not seek forgiveness but pure redemption. I've brought nothing but death to my own door," she inquired.

"Perhaps. Though, I am only a Seer. I can only see what the gods tell me to see," he uttered, raising his head from the shadows.

Skin covered his eye sockets, concealing his eyes within the void of his skull. His black lips: were cracked and caked in dark ooze. The man couldn't see what was going on in the world. Impossible.

Amirah shook her head and lifted her shoulders from her: slouched position.

"When will I die?" A question she's been longing to know ever since she arrived in another timeline.

"I see a battle fought by the hand that raises you," he started.

"I see the bells ringing for an untimely death. You'll hence the torch up to your lips choosing whether the flame dies."

Amirah continued to listen closely, trying to decipher his encrypted riddles.

"I see the gates of the white city and all who oppose. I see Balhder whispering a foreboding passage to the bear: to give the bird his undying star. As for your death, it's all up to the gods whether they choose to lose you." The Seer finished.

"So it wasn't accidental that I was brought here?" Amirah muttered to herself, trying to process everything the Seer told her.

Nothing made sense to her, not even the mention of a storm. She cursed under her breath, wishing she had a pen and paper to remember his words. It was like having a recorder without having the physical machine with her.

She hoped he wasn't lying or playing around with her - - otherwise: hell and all of its troops would reign on him. She didn't seek battles, but battles; seek her. Though Amirah knew her adventure was not over yet.

She knew: destiny is; all.

A small symbolic riddle for you to figure out. . . 😏 😉

The riddle will be more clear as the story progresses 🥰