[Not today]
As the days rolled on, it felt like time was flying by, much like it does for a carefree child who has little to worry about. At least, that's how you and I perceived it. I felt like an adult stuck in a kid's body, carrying worries that seemed heavier than anyone else's. Yet, time just kept moving along, indifferent to it all.
There were times when I dreamed about our village being overrun by a band of bandits. Their bodies were massive, comparable to polar bears, and wielding their sharp axes, they showed no mercy to anyone who dared to resist.
We were a group of helpless souls, resigned to our fate, and I found myself among them, waiting in line to board their boat. Our only destiny seemed to be one of servitude, trapped in a life of bondage.
As I gazed into that grim future, my reluctance pulled me back to reality, and I woke up to find that the village of my birth remained as tranquil as ever. I couldn't see the Viking ship anywhere, nor those intimidating bandits, but then I spotted a tall, imposing man, and I couldn't help but scream.
"Son, what's going on?" My father tilted his head down a bit to meet my gaze, a look of confusion flickering in his eyes. "You just bolted out of the house and were acting really strange."
As I glanced down, it hit me that my feet were completely bare. With each step I took on the snow, a sharp chill rushed up to greet me, catching me off guard every time.
"I'm fine—"
"What are you all doing out there? Come inside quickly. I've made you some food!" my mother called out as she stepped outside, a pan in her hands, cutting me off mid-sentence.
Not wanting to linger outside any longer, I quickly heeded her words, with my father trailing behind me. With a hint of curiosity still lingering, he spoke up again, "Well, he's already 5 years old, so I guess that's pretty normal."
"At first, I figured you were just trying to avoid wetting the bed and bolted out of the house," he said, gently rubbing my head like he got what I was going through. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at that.
"What are you talking about, darling? I asked you to wake him up, but it looks like you ended up scaring our little Viktor instead."
Even though what my mother said wasn't entirely accurate, I appreciated it more since my father's look closely resembled the bandit from my dream. Maybe he was one of the reasons behind my nightmares all along.
As we settled ourselves right in front of the fireplace, my father and I exchanged glances, both of us eagerly anticipating our portions. It was funny how our bowls seemed to match our body sizes. Mine was smaller than his. But honestly, I didn't think it was unfair at all. Once everything was said and done, my stomach felt perfectly satisfied.
"This is so good, mother," I say more often than not. It had turned into a little ritual of mine to compliment her cooking, and it wasn't just my mother—anyone who put a meal in front of me got the same praise.
"Thanks! I get that you're probably tired of porridge, so I decided to whip up something a little different for you today."
Not only did I want to bring them some joy, but I also wanted to show my appreciation for their cooking, and this was one of the outcomes.
When she mentioned it, I noticed my bowl didn't contain the familiar porridge I'd been eating all this time. Instead, it was filled with a hearty soup, brimming with chunks of fresh vegetables and tender pieces of lamb. The warmth wrapped around me, seeping into my body, while the savory taste danced on my tongue, creating a pleasure that I knew would linger for a long time.
That was a win, and my father seemed to think so, too, since he went back for a second helping.
"Son, are you skipping my workshop again today?" My father's question caught me off guard, popping up unexpectedly as he leisurely sipped the last remnants of soup from his bowl, leaving it empty.
"Not today," I replied with a hint of finality.
"Hmph, so you're heading over to Uncle Leif's place again, huh? Honestly, I don't want you to hear his stories all that often," My father might have looked a bit annoyed, but I could tell he wasn't serious about it.
Out of sheer curiosity, I couldn't help but respond with a light-hearted, "So, is Uncle Leif a bad person?"
My mother and I couldn't help but chuckle as we watched his face turn all flustered. It was clear he was struggling to find the right words to say. From what I understood, my father's relationship with Uncle Leif was pretty decent, so he wouldn't want me, his son, to get the wrong idea about him.
"His story is just ridiculous..." My father shut his mouth just as fast as he had opened it. Then he went on, "I'm afraid you'll end up with some strange thoughts after hearing his story, that's all."
"Sweetheart, if Leif catches wind of this, you know he'll be furious," my mother said, her smile still lighting up her face.
"I didn't mention a word."
Watching my father get teased from both sides was tough to see. I wanted to ease his discomfort, so I leaned in and said something reassuring: "Don't worry, father. Today, I'm just going to hang out at Thorfinn's house."
My father's face lit up right away, and he went back to being his usual self, full of excitement and silliness that I know and love. Despite everything, he still offered me a piece of advice: not to get too close to Leif before he headed off to his workshop.
As I was helping my mother tidy up after breakfast, she handed me a message. She said, "Please give my regards to Helga and let her know that I'll make an effort to visit her more often."
After I layered up with a jacket and made sure my shoes were snug, leaving no little gaps for the snow to sneak in, I set off for Thorfinn's house.
Well, my main aim wasn't really to meet him. It was actually to connect with his older sister. I know you might have forgotten, but I won't. The promise she made to me ignited a deep desire to rush into adulthood, to experience everything that came with it.
Ever since that incident, I find myself visiting her quite often. I'm still sticking to the same plan of taking Thorfinn home, and during that time, I'll be hanging out and having some good conversations with Helga and Ylva.
It's that moment when you visit a friend's place and suddenly realize that his mother and older sister are total knockouts. You find yourself doing everything possible to hang out there a little longer.
Honestly, I just can't keep visiting their house every single day. It feels strange, and I understand the basics of how relationships work between people.
This is an important lesson, so pay attention. The more frequently you show up in someone's life, the stronger your relationship will likely become. However, there are times when that doesn't hold true, and instead, it can backfire.
They might start to feel bored and think that having you around isn't as special anymore. This can be especially true if you began your relationship as total strangers. It tends to be more challenging compared to having some family connections to build on.
With all that aside, I don't have a lot of free time on my hands. There's so much I need to learn in these two years once I wrap up my information-gathering process. I even began picking up the art of forging from my father, along with a bunch of other skills that will come in handy when I set sail later with Leif.
So, I decided today was the perfect day to finally collect on Ylva's promise.