The Power Of A Storm

The storm had been foreseen by the older members of his village, but Hyder and his seabrothers were willing to risk it anyway. But it was no storm of wind or lightning as they expected that plagued the rogue longship floating lazily through the waters. Light snow drifted innocently from the grey clouds, hanging so low as to surround the crew in a space that felt smaller than a hovel.

The wind had refused to cooperate in days, and the score of young men, who had been trained on the seas at birth, were rendered helpless by an unpredictable wind that only seemed to muster its strength to send yet another chilling arrow through their chests.

Hyder Ironfish sat huddled against the side of the ship with many of his other men, his brothers of the sea, eking out any small warmth that could be had. They had never felt so much like strangers aboard a ship.

The captain and all seventeen of his seabrothers had been raised together, and from birth were destined to fare the seas, pillage for what their blood brothers and sisters lacked in the village, and be legends among the isles. The longship Whaletooth had become an extension of the entire crew, aging with them like any living member of the crew. Hyder was not a captain like many others, but the head of a working body of the ship. All as one with the sea.

They had battled every kind of danger known to man that the sea could muster in their short lifetimes, the youngest among them six and ten this coming spring. The crew of the Whaletooth had seen many typical battles as well, raiding other villages in the Infinite Isles to seize what they needed and what they desired. But Ironfish and his men (the Ironrun, many called them) had always felt the most glory in their feats of storm-taming.

When they were docked at Fire Coast, their enormous village settled in a shoreside outcropping of tall rocks that let in the light of the sun only at its most intense, the Ironrun would drink hard ale and tell the same stories of their most impressive storms that they have lived to tell of. The Ironrun all knew the stories by heart after so many years, but especially the women whom the Ironrun had taken from other villages, liked to hear of their harrowing exploits. Hyder had always preferred to listen, brushing his long oily black hair and only interjecting to exaggerate the story when it would most cause a stir among the audience.

All the light and laughter felt centuries gone now, as the ship was as infantile in the freezing waters as the ones crewing it. Hyder Ironfish and the rest of his crew could only paddle for a few minutes at a time as well, the large chunks of ice in the water were nearly impossible to navigate around in the dense mist and the risk of losing limbs to a gust of harsh wind was too great. If one of the crew died, they might all just follow him. All as one with the sea.

The mist had never let up, covering even the passing of day and night. None among the ferocious Ironrun could bear to ask how many days had passed since they left the Fire Coast. Hyder took his turn to paddle the ship, gritting his teeth and prying himself from the warmth of his brother's bodies and striking out into the cold wind that threatened to push him over one second, then faded the next as if it had never existed. Every time he stood, he remembered just how cold it truly was. Hyder had heard of great treasures that lay to the north since he was a young boy, learning the myths and truths of the sea in his training to be the Fire Coast’s one and only King of the Sea.

Hyder settled on a seat by an oar, pushing it through the hole in the side of the longship into the water, his brothers who were also taking their turn to paddle following his lead. Hyder had yet to feel like he had earned the title of King of the Sea. He had vowed, his brothers with him, to discover and bring back the treasures of the treacherous north isles. This, they had felt, would secure Hyder Ironfish and his Ironrun as heroes, ones who would be placed among the stars like those in the stories Hyder had devoured greedily in his youth and even now as a man grown of seven and ten.

Now all that filled the minds of Hyder and his men were thoughts of survival. Hyder went for what felt like days without speaking with his crew, his extensions of himself, thinking only of how to stay warm and forcing himself to eat rations of the plentiful, delicious foods they had brought with them. The cold had turned all into ice. The food, the anger of he and his men, their strength, and now even their spirit. Hyder paddled on mindlessly, not pushing and pulling the oar to find land, but because there was naught else to do but listen to the instincts his body had developed and be part of the ship and crew. All as one with the sea.

Hyder combed his fingers through his hair, much like straw after this long of cold, harsh winds. He held his leather-gloved hand in front of him, staring blankly at the brown leather that he had taken from a man in the southern isles. Small flecks of snow landed gently on the back of Hyder’s bony hand, and he cursed it. How could something so beautiful be slowly and methodically destroying him and all he knew?

Hyder remembered the small sense of wonder when they had first seen a flurry of snow. The Fire Coast had had one or maybe two snows in his lifetime, though they had been perhaps minutes long and years apart. Now the unpredictable north winds were a scourge, the snowflakes a gentle but deadly reminder of where they were, the fog around them a grave.

Hyder’s oar hit something hard. Another chunk of that infernal floating ice, he assumed. He hefted the oar out of the water. The weight seemed the same, so he knew it hadn’t broken from the impact. Hyder let out a short cloud of fog as he sighed, then lowered the oar back into the water, and struck something hard again just as he dipped it down. Just as Hyder’s mind was reeling, processing what this meant, the side of the longship he sat on raised up, throwing him to his side on the deck.

“Land!” He heard his seabrother Yurock shout, sounding delirious and breathless. But Hyder knew it was true. Solid ground after who knew how long. Hyder could have been running straight into the most dangerous village of man in all history, yet he leaped over the side of the Whaletooth and landed on crunching ice.

One after the other, his seabrothers joined him on the solid snow, rejuvenated at the opportunity to build a fire. They set out at once to retrieve wood and flint.

“Stop!” Hyder shouted, his voice quickly regaining its vigor and command. They all froze, but not from the freezing weather. “Look.” The captain urged.

In the distance, one could faintly see the wisps of a fire in the distance. A homestead. Perhaps many.

Hyder’s Ironrun quickly dropped the kindling and swiftly gripped their weapons in bundled, gloved hands. Each seabrother in the Ironrun had their signature weapon, their blessed tool of blood and raid that had been with them as long as their seabrothers had been.

Zacurai handed Hyder his own weapon: a hooked sword with teeth-like barbs and stained blood that testified to its legendary battle prowess. Hyder’s hookblade had its own set of myths and tales separate from its wielder, and Hyder loved them, but always knew inside that it was his own vigor for battle that lent the sword its fame.

Hyder Ironfish and his Ironrun trampled through the snow like a herd of sabremoose, caring not for any noise they might make. Even in the deep snowdrift, the men marched swiftly, driven beyond their strength by the prospect of warmth and shelter.

Hyder was the first to spot the homestead, steady smoke billowing from the open hole in the roof. It sat solitary in a valley filled with snow, yet a wide berth of bright green flora surrounded the squat hut, visible even in the dreary fog and rushing snowy winds.

As they approached, Hyder saw that these were no plants he knew, even from the many villages he had sacked.

Northern plants, no doubt. His weary mind pieced the thoughts together.

Hyder led the pack, as usual. They ran down the valley of snow towards the house, only a few of them nearly falling, and reached the edge of the circle of greenery. Within the circle, the cold was suddenly gone.

What was once a piercing, nightmarish chill that seemed to freeze Hyder from the inside out was immediately replaced with a gentle warmth that filled him, thawing his bones and his skin within seconds.

“Witchcraft.” He heard the eldest of his seabrothers, Antou, gasp.

“Nothing we haven’t seen before.” Despite the newfound warmth, Hyder’s voice shivered. The entire Ironrun had their bad memories of witchcraft that they refused to speak of. “Prepare yourselves for what may lie beyond, seabrothers. We attack together and take this shelter. All as one with the sea.”

“All as one with the sea.” They all repeated solemnly.

Hyder pressed the door with the crook of his hookblade, pushing it open from a short distance. Only the fire that produced the smoke they had seen populated the small, dark hut. Everything else was shadow.

Hyder took a singular step in.

“Stop.” A voice spoke from the darkness.

Hyder brandished his hooksword, but didn’t know where to point it. The voice came from everywhere all at once.

“Your men will wait outside.” The voice continued. It sounded like an elderly woman, like one of the seers from the Fire Coast. “They will find it is plenty warm.”

Hyder motioned his men to stay where they were.

“Come in, child.” The voice spoke again.

Hyder Ironfish entered, holding his sword in front of him.

The door slammed behind him, and the sounds of the weather and the Ironrun suddenly died. Hyder spun, and the room brightened behind him. He turned back towards the light, and a small, wrinkled woman sat on a chair made of dark wood in front of the fire.

I would have seen her from outside. She must have appeared from the very air itself.

“Put your sword down and join me.” The woman said, gesturing to the seat beside her without looking away from the flames. Hyder hesitated, but did as the woman said. She didn’t seem to be a threat, and he believed his men would be warm and safe within the circle outside. The captain had always secretly been fascinated by the magical arts, never having an opportunity to capture a witch or learn more about the craft.

The chair that Hyder sat on was carved beautifully, with wooden flurries of snow and dark clouds striking down on the water with bolts of lightning. Pure power emanated from the images. Hyder couldn’t pry his eyes away for a moment. The longer he stared at it the more he became sure that it was moving.

“You and your raiders.” The old woman’s voice ripped Hyder out of his stupor. “What do you seek?”

“Food, resources, and glory, of course.” The words came to him automatically.

“And what do you seek, Hyder Ironfish?”

“How do you know my name?”

“I knew of your coming since before the storm began.”

“Then do you not also know my answer? It is the same. The Ironrun and I are the same. All as one with the sea.”

“You lie,” the woman snarled. A freezing gust of wind seemed to suddenly penetrate the house and chill Hyder’s heart.

The Ironfish paused.

“I seek power,” he whispered. His chest warmed again.

“Yes.” She seemed to relish his true answer like a long-awaited meal. She finally turned to him. The fire reflected off of the ancient woman’s cloudy eyes in such a way that it looked like lightning bursting through the grey within. Her veins too looked like branching lightning like Hyder had seen on the tumultuous dark seas hundreds of times before.

“You are experienced beyond your years.” Her voice was becoming smoother, younger, and louder. “You possess strength that few in history have wielded. Yet you want more. I can give you power, and you will taste the skies and be master of the very storms you envy.”

Hyder knew her words were true as she said each one with a now booming voice.

“I want this power. Teach me to wield it. Please.”

It was the first time Hyder had begged for anything on a conquest. But he wanted nothing more in his entire life.

“This power cannot be taught.” The old woman’s voice lowered back to a normal volume, though her youthful voice still contrasted her ragged appearance. “The magical arts are first gifted only through sacrifice. Then you learn to wield it through centuries of practice.”

“Then give this gift to me.” Hyder gripped the chair in his thick fingers and leaned forward. “I am the most wealthy man in the known Infinite Isles. You may have my gold, my home, my women, my weapons, my youth. What do you require, witch?”

“A sacrifice of blood brings the truest, most powerful magicks.” She said softly, almost sweetly.

The Ironfish raised his blade to his wrist, ready to draw blood.

“Not from your veins, impudent child!” The woman suddenly shouted.

Hyder lowered his weapon, confused.

“If you sacrifice the connection you made with your brothers of the sea, your blood family, I am certain you will gain the gifts that you desire.”

Hyder pictured the faces of each of his seabrothers, his inseparable companions since birth.

“Why are you helping me?”

“I have foreseen your power. I only aid Destiny, to help you achieve your truest form. One of purest power and life.”

Hyder paused for just a moment.

“I accept the conditions. Gift me this power, by any means. What shall I do?”

“You have already done it.” Suddenly the old woman faded into the darkness. The fire slowly died, leaving Hyder with only the light from the cracks of the door to see.

“What does that mean?” He said, his voice swallowed up by the shadows.

Hyder Ironfish stood up, his chair disappearing beneath his fingers as he put his weight on his feet. He opened the door and was greeted with the violent snowstorm once again. The wind parted around Hyder as he stepped out and spotted the first skull peeking out of the snow building around the hut. He felt warm as he stared into the empty eyes of one of his seabrothers. One by one, Hyder parted the snow around the desiccated bodies of his blood companions with quick swipes of his hands, each corpse leaning against the house and stripped of all that had made them recognizable to him in life.

The captain of the Ironrun shed a tear.

He stood tall, then looked at his hands. Snowflakes danced around his hands, but never touched him, only gaining speed before they hurtled back into the strength of the storm. Suddenly, the ground began to move away from him, and he rose through the torrential snowstorm. Lightning struck Hyder directly in the chest, and it filled him with power and an unfamiliar sense of invigoration.

“I am Hyder Ironfish no longer.” Hyder heard his voice boom through the air, vibrating the very world as far as he knew. The Ironrun is dead and buried with honor. Hyder Stormking lives in power and glory.”

He passed over the Whaletooth, beached on the ice below and slowly being swallowed by snow. The ocean below seemed to reach out to him with its waves, and Hyder felt it tugging at something within him. Calling him.

“All as one with the sea.” A chorus of voices echoed in his mind, far away, but strong.

“All as one with the sea.” A woman’s voice said, closer.