Tales of the Vangen: The Siege of Middengard (Book 2)

Chapter 62: Chaos

(There is no order in chaos. Only a man's vein attempt to control the uncontrollable. A puppet demanding to be its own master. A foolish ideology)

-Chronicler Iconofer, an excerpt from, "Logistics of Battle Acumen." 

"Hang on, little one. Today will most certainly be bumpier than the last."

Brand stepped gingerly on to Beslog's awaiting palm, his stomach clenching as the ground sank beneath him. The hem of his robes flapped in the cool breeze, sunlight pouring overhead in all its brightness, catching off the dark, metal walls of Ferrus Keep. A clear morning born towards a clear end.

Victory or death.

"I can sense your fear," he heard Beslog drone in his ear. "Does something trouble you?" For a second Brand felt his chest tighten before realizing how infantile it was to be angry over such a thing. Of course he was afraid. The man he used to idolize, the man who'd almost killed him, stood somewhere within the monstrous, metal fortress.

"Raylein's in there. It's as if I can feel his presence radiating from the keep's very walls. The power he's gained from the Golden Heart must be unfathomable now."

Beslog scrutinized the keep, golden eyes narrowing beneath her nest of wiry hair. "I feel him too. The artifact's creation has warped him, changed him. I take it he is the source of your trepidation?"

Brand crept onto Beslog's shoulder, grabbing hold of a long lock for purchase. "In a sense."

"Embrace it then," Beslog told him. "Only by facing your fear can you finally find your courage."

Brand winced. "Easier said than done."

A rumble echoed from the Jotun. "I thought you wanted revenge?"

"I do!" He blurted out before gathering himself. "I mean I think I do...I don't know." The gold in his hands buzzed ever so slightly as a wave of nausea washed over him. "Every time I imagine facing him, I get this sinking feeling inside." He looked at Beslog expectantly. "Does that make me a coward?"

"No." The Mother of Jotun's shook her head, hair shifting like dry leaves in the wind. "I believe that makes you human. I have tasted your vengeance towards Raylein and in that moment it burned brighter than any star, but your heart is not like mine." She jabbed him playfully in the chest with one, large finger. "Even the hottest forge will cool in time if not consistently fed. Your anger is great, Brand, but it is limited. To hate eternally is not your way."

Brand felt his grip tighten around Beslog's hair. "Sometimes, I wish that wasn't the case. It was hate that inspired me to build the Golden Heart in the first place. It was hate that kept me alive when Raylein tried to kill me."

"What will take its place, then?" She asked.

"Fear?" Is what Brand wanted to say, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized he wasn't afraid of Raylein, but of the future. Would they actually succeed in this venture? Could they actually succeed? And more importantly, what would happen to him after?

His thoughts drifted back to the slow, syrupy memories of his time unconscious. Regis soothing him with a cold compress. Elba calming him when he'd finally woken up. Even the Captain, a man who by any right should have treated him like a prisoner, like an enemy even, handed him an olive branch instead. There were good people in his life now, or at the very least better ones than those he'd had before. People he could rely on. People he could look up to.

"Hope," Brand said after a while.

"Hope." Beslog chewed the word over as she continued to stare at Ferrus Keep. "I believe that will suffice." With a graceful hand she reached up and pressed the tip of her finger against his forehead, as she'd done before in the caves all those weeks past. Brand felt her body bristle as the emotion cascaded into her, passing on into her children like an overflowing goblet. "Yes," she said as she breathed in a lungful of air. "This will do just fine."