• Published 16th Mar 2014
  • 1,771 Views, 78 Comments

A Norseman Raids Equestria - Timemaster

In the ninth century, the renowned and feared viking, Alrik the Strong, had finally set sail back to his home in Scandinavia. After a successful expedition in the Americas, his ship capsized, sending all of them to Valhalla, except one. Alrik.

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Forest II [rough draft]

Author's Note:

I have returned, hopefully for good. I am embarrassed at how I used to write, all those years ago; but I am far more embarrassed to have left you all for my own gratification. If you would like to know more why I left, then please refer to my blogpost on 10/8/2018.
Anyways, I may as well return with great vigor, no? I'll submit this rough draft first, but soon I will repair it. I am happy to be back, my friends.

Alrik and Chrysalis

The wind blew, frigid yet dry. As if abandoned by the concept of heat, a great and large mass of snow and ice came overhead, although it had been clear just moments prior. His eyes bursting with flaming fear, Alrik looked back to the trees he had thoughtlessly removed and shuddered. He falls to the floor, catching Chrysalis off guard with his strange action and putting her on edge. His mind was rushing for too fast for her to understand his thoughts.

Alrik dropped his arms and pleaded, "please, no, not yet, I... I didn't know!" multiple times. Each time, his words sounding more humanoid rather than the chattering of a dead man. His words slurred, the fire in his eyes went out, and he crumbled into a pile of bones on the ground.
Chrysalis panicked while trying to grip onto his soul, but her hoof felt flame-licked. The pain did not go away, either, for it started to spread across her whole body. Immeasurable pain, which she thought she'd never feel again, coursed through her. She screamed and soon fell to the ground and vanished from the now empty mind of Alrik.


After finding a small magical bear, Aine the hunter was excited and, yet, disappointed. He hid and focused on finding the true source of the magical cry from before, for surely it was not some measly bear.

His thoughts turned to the forest...

The forest usually spoke to Aine in a sweet voice, urging the predatory critter to continue his hunt and find his prey. A truly ethereal voice the forest had, for it echoed loudly through the soul even with a whisper. Even Aine, a great hunter, understood that, to the forest, he was a mere predator. However, today, Aine was dragged deep into the forest, though he stayed in the same place. The Forest screamed as Aine could feel his own limbs being removed. One by one, every single inch of Aine felt cut and defiled. Aine was filled with anger, anger towards whoever was harming his forest and, thus, harming him. The predator opened his eyes, blood dripping from his eyes like tears.
His body appeared before his vision and he gripped it and tore it to shreds, casting it into the dirt. From this dirt came plumes of revenge. Yes, Aine had perished, but it was for the forest he has lived in all his life, known to him as the Elderly Forest of Ash and the Hunt.
Aine laughed merrily, then felt his soul slowly drift back towards the soil, where it belongs.

Alrik and Chrysalis

Alrik awakened as a spirit once more, but nowhere near Valhalla. Instead, Alrik was staring directly at the visage of the Grand Ash, Yggdrasil. However, it seems that his own thoughts lied to him; for he saw no snakes below this grand ash. Curious, he attempted to come closer to the tree, only to come face to face with a great creature of ice and flame. Alrik stared into the eyes of the creature and understood. He was to face this creature, not because it was a punishment... no... It was to cleanse his dirty soul from the dishonor he gave unto the great ash.

Alrik was a normal man, unarmed and weakened by malnutrition and drenched with water. Then, he was dry and old, weighed down by his armor. Then, he was young again. However, after some time staring into the eyes of the beast, he became himself before his perilous death, before the shame. He grinded his teeth and readied his arms, waiting for the beast to strike first. Yet, no attacks came.

Alrik felt chills once more. Perhaps he was wrong, perhaps he still is not pure. However, Alrik felt the spirit of someone behind him. He spun around, cautiously, and saw the spirit of Chrysalis.

Chrysalis had the most beautiful soul Alrik had ever laid eyes upon. Unlike his soul, which had nary a scratch outside his scars and scrapes, her soul was cracked and scarred in every which way. Her eyes were punctured, her teeth shattered, her tongue split, and her wings nothing more than stubs. A true testament to all her near victories, all her abysmal failures, all her true triumphs, and all her tragic losses. It was then he understood what the great ash was saying and why Odin had forsaken him.
He stared at the confused soul of Chrysalis, not as his old body of flesh, but as bones. Not armed to the teeth, but wet and weaponless. He was the shipwrecked, the lost, and the weak. However, he had one thing he knew he should treasure.

He opened his arms wide and embraced his companion and felt the energy in his bones dissipate into her. Surprisingly, she embraced him back, tentatively. They let go of one another, only for the beast to finally strike at them. With the power of Alrik's companionship, Chrysalis channeled her magic into her cracked and weak horn. In a horrifyingly loud pop, the world went bright with pink and everything vanished.

The snow shifted and sunk, revealed a pile of bones and wood. They rose above the snow in blue flames, melting the snow around them and revealing their horrifying forms. One formed into a great creature of wood shaped like an elegant horse, polished and beautiful, while the other was ragged, real, bones. The two companions looked at each other in silence, before bowing their heads towards the forest. Alrik kneeled onto the ground and planted a seed into the soil. Chrysalis, silently, followed suit, her wooden hooves bouncing off the soil. Sometimes, her body would collapse to the dirt and Alrik would grab his skull and bang on it until the wood moved once again.

For the rest of the night, the pair silently repaired that which they had destroyed in the forest. Not a word escaped their skulls. The dead did not speak, the trees did not whisper, the winds did not blow, and the birds did not chirp. The sun shone bright, but paled to the glory of the forest. The winds blew calmly and the cold went to a normal chill. The forest had been sated.

Comments ( 3 )

1: bitte töte mich nicht! - please do not kill me! - Chapter 1(Rejection of Peace)
2: Warum ist das passiert? - Why is that happend? - Chapter 2(Two Stories Taller)
3: Was zum Teufel! - What the hell! - Chapter 5(Who Are You To Gudge?)
4: Törichte Untoten - Foolish undead - Chapter 10(Killing Around)
5: Haben Sie keine Scham? - Do not you have shame? - Chapter 10(Killing Around)

This is the translations for these. The words on the left is German and the words on the right is the translations for the German words and also I added which chapter those words came from with their chapter name in (). I used Google Translate for to translate them.

Yep! And, happily, I've been studying far more Pagan and Norse Mythology. Don't expect perfection, but I'll make sure not to butcher their heritage any more!

Wow! It's back! I'll have to reread this (because I have a terrible memory, though I commented on it before, so I know I liked it on the first go).

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