Ginger, Mint, and Miz

When Uriel distorted Miz's appearance too look like a human again, it was a bit different than the first time.  

This time instead of black hair, it was a shimmering blond.  

And of course, he was missing his right arm.  

It had been a few months since the hope shattering, painful experience.  Miz had thought he was so close.  In reality all his resistance did was cause him more suffering.  

Uriel had won.  He would never be free of this.

The boy, who was still dressing as a girl, had been trying to hide from predators.  

He had been staying near a village to steal food from, but when the Vikings came he was hiding in the forrest, in a little den he made for himself.  The den was near a patch of wild mint leaves, and Miz enjoyed the smell.  

He tried to block out the horrible sounds of destruction. The crying, yelling, howling, screaming.  

How he hated Vikings.

Galti's head was held high against the gleams of sunlight that seemed to flood through the thick Adler trees. His heavy sheepskin boots made the grass and leaves crunch satisfyingly beneath his feet as the cool breeze guided his nose toward patches of spices to season his shipmate's meals with.

The viking is about sixteen years of age in this moment, a healthy amount of amber scruff littering his strong jaw, a jaw he inherited from his father Magnus. In the distance he can hear the war cries of his shipmates as they plunder the nearby village, a task he never had the strength to partake in himself. Both he and Frodi felt more satisfied by the travels rather than the plundering. There wasn't much excitement in putting one's life on the line they concurred.

So while Frodi studied in his quarters back on the ship, Galti searched for native spices to season the night's meal with. The wind carried the scent of mint leaves to Galti's nose the deeper he wandered into the brush and once he spied the plant his dazzling cobalt eyes lit up more, ideas of recipes filling his dreamy mind.

The young viking crouches beside the bush and starts picking as much mint as he can, wanting to have enough to last a couple weeks at most.

The small child gasped when he spotted the viking. What was he doing out here?! He wasn't supposed to be out here!!

The viking didn't look much older than Miz's appearance. But he did look a lot stronger.

The burrow wasn't very big. Den tried to burry himself further inside it. Dirt got into his long blond hair. His eyes were big, shocked. He was terrified.

The viking got closer, and closer.

One false move and he'd surely find Miz in his hiding spot.

The boy covered his mouth with his hand, trying to stifle any fearful whimpers.

Galti kept plucking the mint leaves one by one until he gazed upon a mop of blonde hair. He stared for a moment before patten the blonde head, a look of confusion in his eyes.

"What's thes 'en?" he questions aloud, pushing some of the brush out of the way, "Ah swear if they loon dragged a body aw th' way it haur tae scaur me i'll kill them!" He tries to speak with a gruff tone, but a body would really frighten him. The young man is squeamish around death, something Magnus always harassed him for. When he sees it's a young girl though, his eyes grow even more wide and a look of guilt and concern plagues his face.

"'Ey... Lassie. ur ye alrecht?" he questions, giving her some space to not scare her anymore than his comrades probably have.

Miz had spent enough time around Vikings to understand them.

He whimpered and nearly cried out when he was discovered.

Was he all right?! How could the viking ask him such a stupid question?! Was he mocking him?

They would still be able to hear the screaming and crying coming from the village.

"Please don't hurt me." He boy whispered. He looked so thin and pale, so fragile.

He knew that the begging and pleading never worked, but it was always an impulse.

He was so frightened.

Galti's brow furrowed harder against the little girl's words. She of course had a right to say them... His clan was not a sparring one, but it didn't mean he would act the same as they would.

"Ah gie ye mah wuid Ah willnae hurt ye," he promises, stepping back a little to give her some space, "Aam only haur tae swatch fur spices." Galti pulls up the hem of his shirt slightly to show off the makeshift belt he has, riddled with small bags filled with spices.

"Aam th' ship's cuik, huvnae got a killin' bain in me," he reassures, pulling his shirt back down and offering a small smile to the girl as he clasps his hands to show he means to harm.



________________________________________
^{"I give you my word I won't hurt you."
"I'm only here to look for spices."
"I'm the ship's cook, haven't got a kill'in bone in me."}

"Do you think me to be daft!?  All you vikings are the same.  Whatever you're going to do to me, please just get it over with."  Miz tried to sound bold, but instead his voice was quivering and pitiful.  

His blond hair fell over parts of his face, hiding his icy light blue eyes.  

His skin was fare and smooth looking.  He was clearly not of Viking stock himself, his appearance opposite of the bigger, stronger, more rugged Galti.

He was clearly breakable.  And that was without Galti being able to see that Miz was missing his right arm.

The viking's brow slackens and he takes a few long strides back before sitting upon the grass, looking at the strange girl. Seeing that her arms is missing helps him fit the pieces together in his mind. She must have had an encounter with another clan before and was tortured. A plague of guilt washes over Galti, he knows his people are of the ruthless stock even though he himself is not.

...Perhaps he can show her that not all of them are the same.

"Aam nae gonnae dae anythin' tae ye," he speaks calmly, "Ah can see anither has awreddy dain enaw tae spick fur those loch myself." Galti reaches into his rucksack he carried with him and pulls out a loaf of bread wrapped in paper that he baked this morning to eat during his outing. He then takes three silver pieces out of his pocket and tucks them into the wrapping of the paper before rolling it over to the girl.

"It's nae enaw tae make up fur whit ye hae tint, but tak' thes as an apology," his eyes are sincere as he stays seated, looking down at the grassy patch beneath him.


____________________________________
_{"I'm not going to do anything to you."
"I can see another has already done enough to speak for those like myself."
"It's not enough to make up for what you have lost, but take this as an apology."}

Miz stared at the man, confused.

He wasn't going to hurt him? He didn't believe it. He was probably trying to gain his trust before crushing it. It was the same sick kind of thing Uriel would do. What so many had done before.

He didn't touch the offered gift, just stared at Galti with an untrusting gaze.

Galti nods his head in understanding that the little girl won't trust him and he gets to his feet, brushing the grass off the seat of his pants.

"I'll be aff 'en, dornt want tae cause ye onie mair fash yerse. jist bide haur in th' forest an' yoo'll be safe," he assures turning around to walk away from the girl, knowing she'll be safe since his crew is rather superstitious of this forest. Even if the girl doesn't take the gift he left her he knows the forest itself will be grateful that he is repaying it for whatever he takes.

Galti starts singing a viking tune softly as he makes his way back to the ship, wondering if Frodi has learning anything new.




________________________________
_{"I'll be off then, don't want to cause you any more worry. Just stay here in the forest and you'll be safe."}

Before Galti could wonder too far away, a fellow Viking about the young mans age bounded up to him.  

"Galti ye rasshol, what're ye daein' it haur? pickin' yer precioos herbs loch a hen insteid ay plunderin' in th' village loch a real cheil?" The Viking taunted with a large grin on his face.  He had blood on his leather armor.  

Miz hid back further in his hiding place.  


______________________

"Galti ya asshole, what're you doing out here?  Picking your precious herbs like a hen instead of plundering in the village like a real man?"

"Ah dornt hae tae be a real cheil, aam a chef!" he belts out with a round laugh, a grin on his face, "Noo gie back doon tae 'at toon! Ah cooldnae lest fife seconds in 'at forest coz th' spirits ur sae restless. aam thankful Ah still got mah balls intact!" He slaps Bagsecg on the back in a brotherly fashion.







____________________________
"I don't have to be a real man, I'm a chef!"
"Now get back down to that town! I couldn't last five seconds in that forest because the spirits are so restless. I'm thankful I still got my balls intact!"

Bagsecg's eyes widened when Galti said such a thing.  He looked at the forest in wonder.  

"It's true 'en? th' spirits bide haur?" He asked in a breath.  The young Viking feared the spirits, but he was a brave young man.  

He took his fears head on.

He took a few steps forward.

"Hey, what's thes?" He asked, spotting the roll of bread Galti had offered to Miz.  

Before Razzle could stop him, he ran over to it and knelt down.  His eyes met Miz's large blue hues.

Bagsecg let out a loud laugh.  

"Galti! Ah foond yer spirit!" He said, grabbing the girl by her arm and pulling her from her hiding spot.  

"See? It's jist a wee lass. Somehaw she escaped th' village." He chortled, picking up the loaf of bread and then dragging the girl towards the ginger viking.

"She's e'en crippled. Tak' 'er, it'll be easy." Bagsecg said, throwing the girl to Galti's feet.

Miz looked up at Galti in fear.  

____________________________________

"It's true then, the spirits abide here?"  

"Hey, what's this?"

"Galti! I found your spirit!"  

"See?  It's just a small lass.  Somehow she escaped the village."

"She's even crippled.  Take her, it'll be easy."

Galti reaches out to try and stop Bagsecg, but he is too late, his eyes wide with fear. Quickly, Galti thinks up a scheme to try and keep his comrade from harming the young woman.

"Bagsecg," he says in a mere whisper, not moving an inch, "Dornt move. yoo're holdin' a body ay th' most powerful imps in th' entire forest. frodi tauld me ay 'er, she is th' spirit ay aw ay th' tortured sools oan th' islain an' if ye cause 'er harm she'll cut th' hearts it ay aw ay yer crew mates. that's wa Ah left 'er those gifts, sae she woods ensure uir safe passage." He has a very desperate look in his eyes, praying in his heart that his crew mate won't do anything stupid.

He does his best not to look at the young woman because he knows she'll induce a look of guilt on his face.





____________________________
"Don't move. You're holding one of the most powerful imps in the entire forest. Frodi told me of her, she is the spirit of all of the tortured souls on the island and if you cause her harm she'll cut the hearts out of all of your crew mates. That's why I left her those gifts, so she would ensure our safe passage."

A smile suddenly came to Miz's face.

This viking was smart. Much more than he even realized.

And suddenly Miz got an idea.

The boy stood, his brow furrowing.

"The truth hath been spoken, pitiful mortals." He said, his voice feminine but full of anger. Hundreds of years worth of anger. He spoke in the Vikings mother tongue.

"It is but too late. My peace hath been disturbed. I demand a proper sacrifice, lest I rip out the hearts of all your bretheren to feast upon and sate my fury." He sneered.

"Take me to your ship. I will chose my sacrifice there."

Bagsecg couldn't believe his eyes or ears. This small lass was a imp? A troll of the forest? What had he done?!

Galti's eyes fill with a large wave of fear and more importantly confusion. Was the little woman acting? Was his ploy a reality? If so than he doesn't know whether to be impressed or loathsome of himself.

"...I-Is 'at th' only way fair imp? is thaur naethin' we can dae tae ask forgiveness fur mah simple mate's heartless actions?" He questions pleadingly with a look of baffled concern in his eyes. His hands are raised slightly in a surrendering fashion and he glances at his shipmate from time to time with eyes full of fear.







__________________
"...I-Is that the only way fair imp? Is there nothing we can do to ask forgiveness for my simple mate's heartless actions?"

The small Miz let out a spite filled laugh.

"Ha! You ask for forgiveness while blood stains the armor of your comrades?! The blood of the innocent! Your kind hath wrought nothing but destruction upon this peaceful island, and now you shall pay!" He proclaimed with fervor.

Perhaps he could bring justice upon this lot without having to suffer from their hands first.

Bagsecg fell to his knees.

"Please spirit! tak' me, Ah was th' a body tae disrupt ye. spaur mah shipmates!" He begged. But Miz would not hear of it.

"Silence! Take me to your ship at once or I shall spare none!" The boy ordered.

The viking chef looks down fearfully at his comrade and nods his head toward the ship, his amber curls tussling against the warm setting sun.

"We better chucker as she says," he speaks softly, looking pleadingly back into the small woman's eyes, hoping this is all some ploy to escape. He hurries over to his shipmate to help him up, not nearly as strong as him so his body shudders slightly as his muscles strain.







_______________
"We better do as she says."

Miz held his head high and proud as the two men led him back to the ship.  

He didn't mind them calling him a girl.  It made his story more believable.  

He ordered the two young vikings to gather their comrades as Miz himself stood tall and proud admist the now fallen town.

Once they were all gathered, Miz again told the Vikings the story he told Galti and Bagsecg.  

He told them of the sacrifice he now demanded.

One of the Vikings shouted that she looked like nothing but a little girl.  

Miz grinned evilly.  

"Have you not heard of strong, fierce viking men being found in their tents, disemboweled, dismembered, all after taking a feeble child in to torture?  How would I know of that if I were not that child?" He said boldly.  

A hush fell over the crowd.  

"Bring forward the one they call Frodi." He ordered.

Galti's stomach felt as though it was twisting tighter and tighter with every passing moment since the young woman had started speaking of the torment she was going to rain down on his crew. He should have known better than to go wandering around that forest! Then maybe his crew mates would have been safe...

But the moment the girl said Frodi's name, Galti felt like his world was being squashed under an unforgiving bolder. The ginger viking looks over desperately at the tall, lean young man next to him, his best friend, Frodi. All at once he wants to apologize and yell and fight, but what he ends up doing is standing in silence, looking at his best friend with an expression of sheer horror.

Frodi on the other hand looks surprised, but his brow is furrowed. He had never heard of this spirit before... Certainly there had been victims of abuse who's souls haunt their tormenters... But he had never heard of one in this area. Through his skepticism though, he knows he shouldn't tempt fate and he walks up to the young woman, trying to bury down any sort of nervousness he may have in him.

"I am Frodi," he speaks calmly, making sure not to look back at his somber brothers for they would only make this harder.

Miz looked at the one they called Frodi and a softer look came to his face. He reached out and took the mans hand.

"You have a certain peace about you viking." He said in a voice only Frodi would be able to hear. The demon then turned back to the crowd.

"Your brother who stands before me now hath warned you of spirits! I know of the knowledge he possesses, and had you heeded his words yee would not suffer! Because of his intelligence and superstition, he shall be spared from my punishment! To all yee who survive, hear the warnings he speaks!" The boy declares all of this with his voice of confidence. There are no traces that he is acting.

Frodi's brow furrows at the young demon's words. He does make sure to tell the others of the dangers that lay on certain islands, but he was not expecting this young alleged spirit to be here... Regardless, he doesn't say a word to Mizraim or the others because he would prefer to stay alive if this all isn't some kind of act.

Galti on the other hand looks as if a large wave of relief has flooded over him. Frodi will be spared and that is most important to him, he would give his own life for that young man if he had to... Perhaps the spirit would be more sparing toward the rest of the crew... Hopefully.

The amber haired viking looks nervous among the crowd, his eyes gazing almost helplessly up at the young woman, praying she won't do anything too harsh.

Miz nodded at Frodi as if he may stay aside.  He then looked back out to the group.

"You." He said, pointing to Galti.  "Galti, come forth." He ordered.  

His long, blond hair swished slightly in the breeze.  He would be very beautiful if the look of vengeance was not on his youthful face.

Galti's face calms slightly because he feels as though he won't get the punishment. He showed kindness to the spirit and for that he feels as though he will be allowed to live.

The young viking steps forward and stands before the girl, his eyes looking vaguely worried in his skull. He glances over at Frodi who has a subtle scared look on his face, but then looks quickly back down at Miz.

Galti's presumptions were right. Mizraim had no intention of hurting Galti. In fact, his intentions were the opposite.

"Here is another one of your bretherin who will be spared. He fears the spirits. He respects us. And for that he shall be spared. Perhaps if more of you were like he, this dreadful day would not fall upon you." Miz stated, and then turned to nod at Galti.

The faintest trace of a smile came to the boy's lips, his eyes softening considerately. It was a look of fondness, but only Galti would be able to see it.