Fated - [Bjorn Ironside]

~1~

Seven years had passed since Eldyn's father left for Valhalla. Seven years since the daughter to the head of the Woltinmund, Asne, had become naught more than an orphan of nothing. Seven years since she was taken in by the priests and monks of Lindisfarne, a small monastery village off the coast of Northumbria. 

She sailed far with her father. She did not even know where her original homeland was.

She was sheltered by the priests of the monastery, an all-male community that praised one god, as well as his son, from what Eldyn understood, was a martyr. She was told her that these were the beliefs of the people of this land, that they pray to the son of a god that was crucified to pay for the sins of all men.

Athelstan was the name of the man whom she met in the forest. He brought her to their leader so to speak, Father Cuthburt, of the monastery. She was told in later time that this 'holy man' debated on between letting her starve in wild and harboring a pagan. However, the man she met in the forest had vouched for her, saying that he would keep Eldyn out of sight and her pagan ways would not be visible. He even offered to teach her the Christian ways if that would keep them sated.

From then on, it was history.

While still a child, Eldyn had grown. Now 11 years old, her dark hair, brimming with deep, earthen tones, reached her waist. It was much longer than when it was cropped at her chin on the day she reached the island's shore. Her skin was as pale as the clouds, for she was forced to stay within the walls of the monastery. Only on occasion did Athelstan let her roam the shore and the plains under the guise of nightfall. 

Athelstan taught her how to speak their language, taught her of the world and of the land she now resided. She learned of the kingdoms that scattered the continent and of the kings that ruled them. He tried to baptize her, to which she screamed and bit him. He tried to teach her of the Christian ways, to which she denied. However, he did inquire about her, about her world, her clan, her gods that she believed in. It was mutual respect in how they learned of each other. It was how they bonded: storytelling.

He told her of how he came to know her language, that he traveled much in his short life and learned many things, and that he was more than willing to teach her.

He taught her how to read and write, to paint, even to sing. He was amazed of her intellect, shocked that she seemed to be picking up on things that took Athelstan his whole life to cultivate. 

However, one thing that he could not teach her was to assimilate. Athelstan, though finding the nature of her gods to be the antithesis of his own, still wanted her to choose her own path. He told her that God gave them free will to make their own choices, and sometimes that very same free will could be the savior of one, and the damnation of another, like a snake and an apple. 

Eldyn still retained her ways. While she no longer looked the part, as her clothes long since outgrew her, and her hair remained soft and loosely braided, she still held the wild voracity of her people. However, she changed over her time. She was much wiser than any child of her age that Athelstan had met, and she had patience of someone well beyond her years.