💙05 - No Wound Upon His Flesh [Runes of Wyrd - vol 3]🤍

In the pic, from left to right - Queen Skörta - Min Shieldthrower Album : https://suno.com/playlist/d3b85d17-41e5-4f6c-bfbc-4086191ed19e 💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍 Skörta hurried toward them, drawn by Torstein's voice still echoing beneath the burning arches of Surtssmiðja. Her bodyguard, usually so difficult to surprise, seemed unable to catch his breath. His eyes were wide, his face almost glowing with a nervous joy none of them had ever seen in him before. "Skörta! Look who's here... He's alive! You always knew it!" Torstein turned toward her with a broad smile, almost admiring, as though he expected to see the Queen collapse with relief. But the smile slowly faded from his face. Skörta was watching the man kneeling against the rock with genuine concern, yet not the slightest trace of recognition crossed her features. "He... he probably needs help. We have to treat him." Torstein recoiled slightly. "Skörta...?" He stared at her as though he could not understand the words she had just spoken. "You don't recognize him?" A heavy silence settled over the group, broken only by the roar of the forge. A few paces away, streams of incandescent metal flowed through channels carved into the basalt, while every breath scorched their throats. The heat was so intense that sweat seemed to vanish from their skin almost as soon as it appeared. Everyone looked from Skörta to the stranger and back again. Everyone except Mikki. The old druid had lost his usual smile. He studied the Queen for a long moment before speaking, with that peculiar habit of hiding the worst truths beneath an almost lighthearted tone. "Ohhh... it seems Yggdrasil didn't merely nibble away at a few childhood memories. The price was greater than we expected... much greater." Skörta stiffened as the man slowly raised his eyes toward her. "My love... what are you doing here...?" A flash of agony suddenly twisted his face. "Oh no... my head..." Helena turned sharply toward the Queen. "My love?" Something changed in Skörta's eyes, as though something deep inside her had just cracked. "I... I don't remember having a husband." A tear slowly rolled down her cheek. Mikell approached cautiously. "And a son. Erik. You entrusted Norway to him before we left. Do you remember that?" Skörta turned toward him so abruptly that the runic paint across her face seemed to sharpen the shock in her expression. "A son...?" She shook her head. "No... that's impossible. I... why did I do this to us? By Freyja, what did I agree to?" Her legs suddenly seemed unable to support her. Bruno and Mikal-Finnvard moved closer as she faltered, and the Jarl placed a hand on her shoulder. "We don't yet know what is permanent. Perhaps, once we understand what the runes have done, we'll find a way to put some of this right." A hoarse voice interrupted them. "Skörta... please..." The man was struggling to breathe. "I can't bear this anymore. There's no way out for me... I've always loved you, and seeing you here... even like this..." He closed his eyes for a few seconds. "I want it to end with you beside me." Skörta instinctively stepped back. A stranger was calling her his wife. She had just been told that she had a son whose very existence had vanished from her memory, and now this man was begging her to stand beside him as he died. It was too much. She turned away without a word and disappeared between the basalt arches, until a scream of rage suddenly rose above the roar of the flames. Min followed her. When she caught up, she said nothing at first and simply took her hand. "We'll get through this together. If you wish, I can try to ease his pain. That man is suffering terribly, even though there isn't a single wound on his body." Meanwhile, Helena had knelt beside the stranger and gently placed a hand against his forehead. He was burning hot, his skin drenched in sweat. Then the world disappeared. Helena's eyes suddenly turned completely white as the forge vanished from her mind, replaced by a dark expanse swept by an icy wind. In the distance stood a colossal wolf, larger than any creature she had ever seen. Its fur seemed to swallow the light itself, while its eyes burned with an ancient anger that felt almost personal. Something about its presence reminded her of Johannes's stories, yet this was not quite the same creature. Helena felt her mind being drawn toward it, as though an invisible thread now bound their consciousnesses together. "Who... who are you?" she asked within her mind. The wolf spun toward her, and an immense growl tore through her thoughts before the creature lunged. Helena was thrown backward into the real world at the very moment Harald released a scream so violent that it nearly drowned out the forge itself. She remained on the ground for several seconds, gasping for breath. "I... I don't know what I saw. Fenrir? Sköll?" Johannes immediately approached, and Helena described the creature's shape, its dark fur, the form of its muzzle and, above all, the rage that seemed directed not against the world, but against someone in particular. Mikki considered her words for a moment. "Oh... if your description is accurate, you may have met Sköll's brother. Hati." Johannes slowly nodded. "Yes. That wasn't Sköll." His gaze settled on Harald. "If Helena truly saw him through this man, then Hati may be the source of his torment. He isn't simply wounded. Something is torturing him from within." He paused before adding quietly, "I'm not certain we can save him." Skörta had heard everything. She slowly returned to them, her face still wet, but her eyes had recovered the hard determination that could once silence an entire hall. She drew a dagger from her belt and knelt before Harald. "Look at me." He painfully raised his eyes. "Are you certain you want this to end? You won't let us try to help you?" Harald studied her face for a long moment, as though trying to carve every detail of it into his memory one final time. "I'm certain, my love... Forgive me. I couldn't find my way back." He struggled for another breath. "Take care of Erik." Another spasm tore through his body and an agonized scream escaped him. Skörta closed her eyes as a tear ran freely down her cheek. Then she drove the dagger straight into his heart. Harald exhaled slowly and, for the first time since they had found him, his face finally seemed at peace. Skörta remained against him, motionless, unable to weep any further for a man whose love her own mind had forgotten. Helena approached and gently rested a hand on her shoulder. "We'll get through this together, Skörta. We're not leaving you behind... not now." Around them, Surtssmiðja continued to burn with the same indifference, while somewhere beyond the flames, one more question had joined all the others. Why had Hati chosen Harald? 💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍💙🤍