Steinarr Freedfire stalks forward with Crowfeeder at the ready, the bird wing-bearing blade shining bright in the light of its master''s flame. Smoke billows from his mouth, its thickness telling of how deeply he taps his strength. His eyes glow with fiery light as he locks his gaze on his so-named foe.


    "Dad!"


    I''m not sure if I spoke or if Eric did, but it must have done the trick as the one-minded obsession stutters and fails behind Dad''s eyes.


    "Halla? Eric?" Dad''s head snaps towards us so fast I''m almost afraid he''d tear his head clean from his shoulders. His eyes fall on familiar blazing red hair as things happen very quickly.


    One moment, Dad stands at the edge of the grotto; the very next, Eric and I are swept up by strong arms. The sudden impact knocks the wind from my chest as Dad holds us tight, the pressure alone popping parts of my back.


    "You''re alive!" He sobs, voice muffled by our clothes. Eric and I exchange a brief glance before patting Dad on the back, "I was so, so scared." Pulling away, Dad fixes us with a stern look, "Never do that to me again, you understand?"


    I snort as Eric chuckles, but my eyes fall on the other reunion happening in the grotto.


    Vidar Smash steps into the grotto while hauling a beast in his wake. His left arm is gone, swallowed up to his elbow by the beast he''s now dragging behind him. As far as I can tell, his arm isn''t missing or anything, that''s just how he wants to move the wolf-like creature along.


    Vidar leans his axe on his shoulder as he eyes Bear, "You''re alive, eh?" His gaze drifts to the cow on Bear''s shoulder, which still slumbers peacefully—I''m beginning to think that some spirit cast a spell on the creature with how limp it remains. "And you''ve got the sacrifice too, good."


    Bear nods and that''s the end of that. There are no tears, no embrace, just a handful of terse words and a nod.


    That''s... That''s kind of sad, isn''t it?


    ...


    I should probably try to talk to him about it, sometime.


    "Well," the Hading''s voice cuts through the post-reunion glow like a sword through flesh, "I suppose now you do have something to apologize for, no?"


    Dad tenses as his lips thin, "That''s right," his eyes harden as he takes a deep breath, "the sacrifice."


    "Actually, Dad," I start as I muster up my words, "there''s a bit of explaining to do."


    He arches a brow, "Oh?"


    <hr>


    Dad sits silently on a root-formed arch as he listens to the explanation. It''s only when we come to the end that he feels the need to speak, "You''re saying this evil spirit said I did some kind of favor for him?"


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    "That''s what it said, yeah," I answer as Eric adds a nod of his own.


    Dad frowns, his chin resting on his knee-braced fist, "I don''t recall doing any favors for any evil spirits, but perhaps the spirit was in disguise?"


    "Evil spirits can often be quite deceptive, yes," the Hading adds with a dark tone speaking of ample bad blood.


    "And, just to clear things up completely, we do not owe you an apology?" Dad asks as he turns towards the Anchor Ash.


    "For felling the outskirts trees, you have nothing to apologize for," the Hading''s specific words leave my eyes a-narrowing, "For the damage you have done to my grotto, however, I would much appreciate an apology."


    Dad nods as he swiftly stands up and gives the Anchor Ash a deep bow, "I, Steinarr Freedfire, Bondi of Einhollstad and son of Hallr Blackhand, through whom I am descended from the Volsungs, do offer my most sincere apologies for the damage I have caused. I offer you the largest, most productive cow of my herd as compensation."


    With Dad''s words, Bear quickly sets the cow down. The cow stays standing for about two or three heartbeats before promptly collapsing in on itself.


    "Compensation is unnecessary, Steinarr Freedfire, Bondi of Einhollstad and son of Hallr Blackhand, by whom you are descended from the Volsungs, but much appreciated," the Hading offers a slight giggle at the cow''s limpness, "I accept your apology."


    Dad nods as his hand falls to Crowfeeder. In one swift motion, he draws, swings, and returns his sword to its sheath before the cow''s blood-trailing head has time to even touch the ground. Blood splatters the grass as it quickly soaks into the grotto.


    Kerr Skippingstone rises from where he sat at Dad''s side, having made his entrance with little fanfare for he had no missing relatives with which to reunite with, "O'' great Hading, is there anything we mortal men can do to aid one such as yourself?"


    I''m caught off-guard by Kerr''s forwardness for only as long as it takes to recall just how many farms Kerr actually owns—five farms, to be exact; Kerr is the wealthiest of the alliance for a reason, after all. You don''t get that wealthy without being bold and seeking out ways to make said wealth grow. I should start trying to emulate that, perhaps by making bets on wrestling and the like? During the summer, Asvir tends to get a lot of traffic as people like to rest there while on their way to Jurgdby in search of the fine whetstones Jurgdby is known for. There might be something there for me if I can just figure out an angle to take.


    "As you are now aware, my enemy, the Witch, has been hounding me for quite some time. While I could squash her like the insect she is, she has some manner of spell to conceal her magical presence, preventing me from doing just that. As I cannot leave this grotto without exposing my husband to untold dangers and my beasts have little ability for tracking such an elusive foe, I would be in your debt should you find a way to rid this Witch of her protection."


    Vidar hums to himself as he considers the offer, "Well, lads, what do you say to some witch-hunting, eh? Get the boys together, sweep the forest, have some good times, yeah?"


    Kerr gives Vidar a dry look, "While I would love to assist the Hading in this manner, I must point out that even I have limits when it comes to funding adventures. I used most of the last few years'' profits to properly outfit my huskarls, after all, and need to bring in further harvests before I can supply anymore adventures. With that said," he nods his head as he turns back to the Hading, "I will certainly put a bounty out on the head of this Witch, which will surely draw the attention of the Valley''s young men."


    "My thanks, Kerr Skippingstone," the Hading says as thoughts whirl through my head.


    A bounty? As in, I get paid for killing something? I love fighting and I love wealth, so this really does sound like the sort of job that’s right for me.


    Lets just hope someone doesn’t claim it before me!


    First things first, though, is getting home and taking a bath! I stink something fierce!