💙12 - Under the skin [Runes of Wyrd]🤍

In the picture, from left to right: Mikell Skar - A wanderer who lived among the Jomsvikings, with a mysterious eye Bruno Arvast – Helena’s half-brother, son of Jarl Mikal‑Finnvard Arvast and Min Shieldthrower Album : https://suno.com/playlist/d3b85d17-41e5-4f6c-bfbc-4086191ed19e 💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍 For several days, the drakkar cut through the cold waters between Trondheim and Skalvheim, carried by a steady wind and a surprisingly calm sea. Life on board followed an almost soothing rhythm, shaped by repeated maneuvers, quiet conversations, and long gazes lost in the gray horizon. The men laughed at times, drank when the waves allowed it, and shared stories to pass the time. Yet beneath this routine, something lingered, a silent tension no one dared to name. Bruno leaned against the railing, watching Mikell Skar with poorly hidden curiosity. Helena stood not far away, facing the horizon, but her silence betrayed how closely she was listening. “Tell me... why did you come back with us? Why not stay in Trondheim?” Mikell smiled faintly, as if he had been expecting the question. “I follow the will of the gods, young man. And my destiny is to understand what is unfolding in this world.” Bruno narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. “That’s an easy answer to avoid the question. It’s not enough. Who are you, really?” A soft chuckle escaped Mikell as he ruffled Bruno’s hair with a familiarity that felt almost paternal. “Stubborn... but sharp. You’re a clever one.” Helena allowed herself a small smile, raising an eyebrow slightly as if to agree. Mikell continued, his tone more serious. “Long ago, I lived among the Jomsvikings.” Bruno frowned. “The what?” “Warriors devoted to the old beliefs. An elite, chosen to serve the gods without wavering.” Bruno looked him up and down. “You don’t really look like a warrior.” Mikell shrugged lightly. “I never said I was one. My father was. But me... I was never chosen.” “So that’s why you left? Became... this?” Mikell took his time. His gaze drifted briefly toward Helena, who still pretended not to listen, before returning to Bruno. “Let’s say things became more complicated. Since what some call the Age of the Runic Twilight, even the most devoted began to doubt. Some lost their faith. Others... went looking for answers elsewhere.” Helena finally turned away from the horizon. “And your eye? What happened to it?” Without answering immediately, Mikell slowly lifted his eyepatch. Beneath it, his eye was anything but human. A shifting pupil, split like a living ember, flickering with impossible reflections, as if multiple realities overlapped within it. The iris seemed cracked with faint runic lines, pulsing softly, and sometimes, for the briefest moment, another gaze appeared... older, cunning, disturbingly aware. Bruno froze. Helena felt her words die before they could even form. Mikell lowered the eyepatch again with deliberate calm. “I have seen the gods... long ago. And for that, I had to sacrifice my eye.” Bruno swallowed. “But... why would you do that?” Mikell met his gaze. “To walk between worlds, young man.” Helena stammered, unable to gather her thoughts. Mikell allowed himself a faint smile. “Another trick of Loki...” Then his expression darkened. “The gods are still here. But Loki... I would rather he doesn’t see through me.” Bruno immediately understood. “That’s why you hide it?” Mikell nodded, amused. “Clearly... you’re quite clever, kid.” “I’m not a kid,” Bruno shot back, pride rising in his voice. A few days later, the drakkar finally reached Skalvheim. The harbor was alive with movement, figures gathering to welcome their jarl. On the dock stood Mikal-Finnvard Arvast, straight and composed, accompanied by the druid Mikki Þríkungr and a man whose hair carried strange green reflections. The jarl stepped forward without hesitation and pulled Helena and Bruno into a rare, warm embrace. “My children... come. You will tell me what happened with King Håkon Eldrún and his daughter.” He turned slightly. “And this is Johannes Grøn-Ulv, a new arrival.” The man stepped forward calmly to greet them. Bruno’s eyes widened instantly, but he said nothing. As they walked toward the Great Hall, he grabbed his sister’s arm. “Helena... that’s him.” She turned her head slightly. “Him, what?” “That’s him... the man from my dream. On the ship. I’m sure of it.” Helena said nothing. She placed a hand on Bruno’s shoulder, while her other hand slowly tightened around the wolf-headed ring, her fingers nervously tracing the cold metal. And for the first time in a long while... doubt settled in. 💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍 He walks... he walks... Through me... through me... Not alone... You feel it... don’t you... I hear him breathe No... not outside Inside my bones Aaah... it moves... I didn’t ask Still it stays It sees through me Closer... closer... I feel it watch I feel it wait You opened the way No... I never... You looked beyond We are not... one We are... many Hear us... Under the skin It never left (Stays...) You let it in It wears your breath Under the skin It never left (Stays...) You let it in It wears your breath I see... through... you... I feel his thoughts They are not mine They crawl... They stay... I... I remember nothing But he remembers all You crossed the veil You gave an eye To see... I walk in you And I remain (he walks... he walks...) (I see... I see...) Under the skin It never left Stays! You let it in It wears your breath Under the skin It never left Stays! You let it in It wears your breath I see... through... you... Under the skin... Under the skin... Under the skin.