[Thors]
"Thors, he..."
"What's going on with Thors? There's no way you could actually go up against him, is there?" My mother's voice took on a higher pitch, signaling she was about to scold her husband.
"No, that's not it at all. I can't imagine causing any trouble with Thors, much less getting into a fight with him. He's still in the process of learning blacksmithing from me."
My mother took a deep breath, and you could see the relief wash over her when her worries didn't come true. But even with that weight lifted, she still wore a puzzled expression on her face.
"Have you become so arrogant that you're unwilling to share your blacksmithing skills with others? Thors has been a huge help to our family, so you better make him a better blacksmith than you."
"From the beginning, I've had this strong desire to share all my knowledge with him, no need for him to even ask. But here's the thing: while everyone keeps praising him as a warrior and raving about his sword skills, the truth is, he really struggles when it comes to blacksmithing."
At that moment, it was my father's turn to feel the weight of frustration. It looked like my father's days teaching this guy named Thors weren't as easy as I had imagined. Still, I picked up on something intriguing from what he mentioned.
Warrior...
Even though I've come across that word before in my life, this is the first time I've heard it used as a title for someone I know.
Just to give you a heads up, the folks who have come to see me since I was born often chatted about warriors. But honestly, they didn't live up to that title themselves. So, all I really heard was a distant dream of what it would be like to earn that honorable title.
And there's one right here in this village. Even though it's only a rumor, I can't help but feel like there's some truth to it. When I met Thors in person, it was clear right away that he had a unique vibe about him.
As I smiled broadly, envisioning the possibilities that lay ahead, a sharp wind swept through the house, gently brushing against my face. My body started to tremble, and I immediately figured out what was causing it.
It looks like my father was a bit careless when he just left the door closed without actually locking it. On this snowy night, the wind was particularly fierce, howling as they effortlessly swung the door open, allowing the biting cold to seep into the cozy warmth of the house.
The inquisitive me took my time, making my way over to the door. I made sure to plant my feet firmly with each step I took as the gust of wind hitting me grew more and more unbearable.
While my parents were deep in conversation about Thors, I confronted the toughest challenge I've ever faced since entering this world. It felt as if I was trudging through a thick blanket of snow while a fierce blizzard relentlessly battered my resolve to push forward.
In truth, I was just strolling around inside the house. My feet were planted on the wooden floor, but with my 18-month-old baby body, what I was up to might have been risky.
As I approached the door, I could feel the weariness settling in, a result of all the energy I had expended. I struggled to keep my eyes open as this relentless gust of wind whipped around me without any hint of mercy.
"Just a little more... I really want to see the outside world," my uncertain, childish voice called out. After spending 18 months cooped up in this house, surrounded by the constant attention and affection from my parents, I craved a moment of selfishness, just this once.
Biting my lip with such intensity, I shut my eyes tight, but my feet carried on, pressing forward. It wasn't long before I felt a sudden chill against the soles of my feet.
The sensation was reminiscent of stepping onto a block of ice, but it felt much softer this time. As I pressed down a bit more, I could feel my entire ankle sinking in, completely enveloped by it. As I pulled them out, they felt like they were clinging to each other for a moment, almost reluctant to let go, before finally drifting apart on their own, reminiscent of grains of sand slipping through my fingers.
"Little Viktor! What are you up to over there?" My mother's scream pierced the air so loud it felt like it could shatter glass and left my ears ringing. On top of that, the heavy footsteps that I was convinced belonged to my father echoed around me, making me feel unsteady as if the ground beneath me was shifting.
"Viktor, I know you're going to grow up to be a strong boy, but heading out into the snowstorm like that isn't the best idea. You nearly gave us a heart attack," I could tell my father was worried. Thankfully, it all ended with them bringing me back inside and wrapping me in a warm hug.
Still, I can vividly recall the first time I laid eyes on the outside world after coming into this life. It's a memory that's etched in my mind, and I know it will stick with me forever.
The night sky is absolutely stunning, with its twinkling stars and the soft glow of the moon casting a magical light over everything.
There's no doubt about it—it's the Northern Lights, which many people refer to as the Aurora Borealis. A swirling river of greenish-blue light dances across the sky, creating a mesmerizing display.
They sway and twirl in the most unexpected ways. Sometimes, it's almost hard to notice, but then it can burst into life with surprising clarity.
As I reflect on those moments, my heart starts to flutter with emotion. I'm absolutely convinced that I've found myself in a remote village located at the very northernmost reaches of the earth. I'm still uncertain about whether I actually traveled back to the medieval era.
People who typically decide to settle in remote areas like this often belong to traditional tribes. For them, living simply and without dependence on modern conveniences is just a part of their way of life.
I'm not entirely certain that I've explored every nook and cranny of this village. It's possible that my perspective is shaped mainly by what I observe within my family circle.
In the end, my little family gathered around the dining table, enjoying the cozy warmth of the lamb meat soup that my mother had lovingly prepared. Now that my teeth have started to grow strong, I finally got the chance to savor that heavenly dish.
Every now and then, I couldn't help but burst into laughter watching my father attempt a goofy trick by brewing all the soup in his bowl at once. It was such a funny sight! Even though he was coughing and his face was all red, he still managed to make my mother laugh out loud instead of getting her angry at him.
When bedtime rolled around, I was in a bit of a situation. Normally, I would snuggle up in bed with my mother, but my father unexpectedly decided to join us this time. It was a change that definitely shook up my usual routine.
This bed was designed for two people, and there's a reason for that. Even though I was just a baby at the time, my father's large frame made me feel pretty cramped. It felt like my earlier impulsive decisions had led to this uncomfortable situation. My father's worry was so intense that he felt the need to sleep next to me tonight.
I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't let him worry anymore because...
It's Fucking cramped here!
Doesn't he realize he's slowly driving me to my death? If I have claustrophobia, he should definitely be ready to discover me lifeless the next day.
And just like that, the day wrapped up, leaving me feeling uneasy for the rest of the night. I even tried to signal my feelings by crying out loud, but all I received was a warm, tight hug from my mother. I didn't mean to come off as ungrateful when my face was nestled against her soft breasts, but honestly, it just made it even more challenging for me to catch my breath.