As Zayzal and Sera stepped onto the cobblestone pathway of the small village, a sense of cautious relief washed over them. Nestled beside the renowned Røisheim Hotel, the quaint settlement had an air of rustic charm. Traditional wooden houses with grass-covered roofs, eerily devoid of tourists, lined Visdalvegen Road.
Children cautiously peered out from windows, adults paused their conversations, and an elderly man even stopped feeding his chickens as the two outsiders entered. It was as if the village had suspended its daily life momentarily to judge the intent of the new arrivals.
“These people seem wary,” Zayzal muttered, holding his spear non-threateningly, hoping to convey peaceful intentions.
“No shit. How would you react if strangers with weapons drawn walked into your town?” Sera clapped back, her grip on her axe relaxed but ready, “Let’s make sure we don’t give them a reason to consider us threats.”
Just then, a woman stepped out from one of the houses. She was middle-aged, wearing a thick woolen sweater and a confident expression that commanded authority. “I'm Ingrid, the village council leader. State your business,” she declared, eyes narrowing slightly as she scanned their leather packs, which seemed to be their gear.
Before Sera could say anything, Zayzal put his spear away and stepped up. “My name is Zayzal Athanasios, and this is my friend, Sera. As you can see, I’m not from around here. I was hiking in the mountains when suddenly, that light appeared out of nowhere. We have no idea what’s going on with the rest of the world and we’re hoping someone could fill us in. I’d like to return home as quickly as possible.”
Ingrid eyed Zayzal cautiously, her gaze drifting from him to Sera before finally softening a fraction. “Well, to put it simply… It’s hell.” Waving her hand, she signaled for the two of them to follow her.
While they were walking, Ingrid continued to talk. “It’s been quiet over the last few days, but when that… light, or what people today are referring to as mana, descended, it was like all hell broke loose.”
“People who couldn’t withstand the pain exploded into a bloody mess, animals started going crazy, and those that survived gained supernatural abilities. There’s even been news of fictional monsters popping up here and there, but I haven’t seen anything like that yet.”
Zayzal and Sera exchanged a glance, the weight of Ingrid's words settling over them. This was confirmation of what they had already feared, albeit on a more shocking scale.
"We've seen some of those changes firsthand," Sera admitted cautiously. "The descent of mana, the violent transformations—"
"—And creatures that are anything but normal," Zayzal added, his thoughts drifting back to the monstrous bear they had encountered. "It's like the world's rules have been rewritten."
Ingrid sighed, her eyes showing the first signs of genuine emotion—weariness, maybe even a tinge of sadness. "Then you understand the predicament we find ourselves in. Let's discuss this more privately."
Soon, they found themselves inside Ingrid's cozy home. It was furnished modestly but tastefully, with a rustic charm that matched the village's overall atmosphere. She gestured for them to sit, and then she began to fill a kettle for tea.
"Does anyone else in the village have these... abilities?" Sera asked, breaking the silence.
Ingrid set the kettle on the stove and turned to them. "A few. We've been cautious, keeping things under wraps as much as possible. It's difficult to know who to trust these days, even within our community. Power can easily get to people’s heads."
They both nodded in understanding, especially Zayzal. He didn’t know how much education Sera received, but as someone who was a bit more well-versed in today’s politics, he understood that absolute power corrupts absolutely.
Some people are laid back simply because of the constraints around them. Once those are broken or they’ve reached their limit, they could become a completely different person.
Zayzal, who was sitting next to Sera, stared at Ingrid. Or, more particularly, her head. There, he saw a cyan orb, similar to what he saw in Sera and the other Vikings.
‘Sera has a gold and red orb. The Vikings have red ones as well. Now, this lady has a cyan orb, which I assume is related to her talent. I wonder what my colors are and if there are more.’ Zayzal pondered, as this all seemed to be related to his talent.
Now that he got a closer look, the pathways in Ingrid’s body were mostly focused around her brain, with only a few reaching out a bit further.
‘I’m guessing she has a mental talent? Interesting.’ Zayzal thought, staring at Ingrid’s forehead intently.
He really wanted to ask her more about it, maybe even run a few tests to see what would happen, but at the same time, he didn’t want to mess with someone’s brain.
One wrong move, and she could die. He didn’t want to have someone else’s blood on his hands simply because he was curious.
Ingrid soon noticed Zayzal’s stare and became a bit uncomfortable, causing Sera to elbow him in the stomach.
“Oof!” He winced in pain, shooting a glare at her, only to receive one back. It was only then did he realize he made a mistake.
Chuckling awkwardly, he turned to Ingrid and apologized. “I’m sorry, it’s just that I have a peculiar talent. I’m still not 100% sure of what it does, so my curiosity got the better of me.”
Ingrid's eyes narrowed slightly as she processed Zayzal's words. "A talent, you say? You're able to see something unusual?"
Zayzal hesitated, cautious not to reveal too much, especially in a world where such abilities could be coveted—or feared. "In a way. It's hard to explain, and I don't fully understand it myself. I can perceive certain things about people, but I'm still figuring it out."
"Interesting," Ingrid mused, a note of curiosity in her voice. "Well, no matter. Do you two have any more questions?”
“Does the internet still work?” Zayzal immediately asked. His phone had died a long time ago, and reception in the mountains was bad to begin with, so this was crucial.
“Yes and no,” Ingrid replied. “On the first day, it didn’t, but now I’d say it works about 30% of the time. Those nasty storms have died down quite a bit, so that could be the reason. Nobody really knows what’s going on at this point. Oh, but phone calls aren’t all that reliable currently. Something about some kind of interference.”
Zayzal nodded thoughtfully, but Sera didn’t care. Instead, she was more interested in something else.
“How… How many people have died?”
The room fell into a momentary silence. Ingrid’s face became despondent before she shook her head and looked at the young woman. “These are just estimates, but the news says… anywhere between 30-50% of the population died on the first day.”
Ingrid continued, her voice heavy with the weight of the words. "In the village, we were more fortunate. We lost a few, but most survived. The isolation may have spared us from the worst of it, but we also believe that our community's natural affinity for traditional practices and unity helped us adapt better to the mana."
Zayzal and Sera exchanged another glance, each absorbing the gravity of what Ingrid had said. The loss of life on such a massive scale was almost incomprehensible. It wasn't just a tragedy; it was a cataclysm that had reshaped the very fabric of human society.
"That's...overwhelming," Sera finally managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.
"It is," Ingrid agreed solemnly. “For smaller communities like us, we weren’t as badly affected, but I can’t imagine what the rest of the world must be going through right now.”
Zayzal clenched his fists unconsciously, his thoughts a storm of emotion and resolve. He had underestimated just how bad things really were simply because most of the Vikings survived.
‘I need to see my parents!’
With his eyes lit aflame, he stared into Ingrid’s and asked, “I know this may sound sudden and ridiculous, but do you have a car we can take or know somebody who does? If you do, I promise to make it worth your while.”
Ingrid considered Zayzal's sudden request, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "A car, you say? It's not as easy as you think. Gasoline is becoming a scarce commodity these days with most people too scared to leave their homes, and besides, the roads are treacherous at best, filled with both natural and unnatural hazards."
"I understand that, but it's urgent," Zayzal begged, his voice tinged with desperation. "I need to find my family. I need to know if they're alright. And I have ways to make it worth your while.”
Ingrid sighed, deeply conflicted. Finally, she spoke, "Alright, we have a few old vehicles, and there's a reserve of fuel for emergencies. If you can make a strong case, then I’ll accept your offer.”
As Zayzal and Sera stepped onto the cobblestone pathway of the small village, a sense of cautious relief washed over them. Nestled beside the renowned Røisheim Hotel, the quaint settlement had an air of rustic charm. Traditional wooden houses with grass-covered roofs, eerily devoid of tourists, lined Visdalvegen Road.
Children cautiously peered out from windows, adults paused their conversations, and an elderly man even stopped feeding his chickens as the two outsiders entered. It was as if the village had suspended its daily life momentarily to judge the intent of the new arrivals.
“These people seem wary,” Zayzal muttered, holding his spear non-threateningly, hoping to convey peaceful intentions.
“No shit. How would you react if strangers with weapons drawn walked into your town?” Sera clapped back, her grip on her axe relaxed but ready, “Let’s make sure we don’t give them a reason to consider us threats.”
Just then, a woman stepped out from one of the houses. She was middle-aged, wearing a thick woolen sweater and a confident expression that commanded authority. “I'm Ingrid, the village council leader. State your business,” she declared, eyes narrowing slightly as she scanned their leather packs, which seemed to be their gear.
Before Sera could say anything, Zayzal put his spear away and stepped up. “My name is Zayzal Athanasios, and this is my friend, Sera. As you can see, I’m not from around here. I was hiking in the mountains when suddenly, that light appeared out of nowhere. We have no idea what’s going on with the rest of the world and we’re hoping someone could fill us in. I’d like to return home as quickly as possible.”
Ingrid eyed Zayzal cautiously, her gaze drifting from him to Sera before finally softening a fraction. “Well, to put it simply… It’s hell.” Waving her hand, she signaled for the two of them to follow her.
While they were walking, Ingrid continued to talk. “It’s been quiet over the last few days, but when that… light, or what people today are referring to as mana, descended, it was like all hell broke loose.”
“People who couldn’t withstand the pain exploded into a bloody mess, animals started going crazy, and those that survived gained supernatural abilities. There’s even been news of fictional monsters popping up here and there, but I haven’t seen anything like that yet.”
Zayzal and Sera exchanged a glance, the weight of Ingrid's words settling over them. This was confirmation of what they had already feared, albeit on a more shocking scale.
"We've seen some of those changes firsthand," Sera admitted cautiously. "The descent of mana, the violent transformations—"
"—And creatures that are anything but normal," Zayzal added, his thoughts drifting back to the monstrous bear they had encountered. "It's like the world's rules have been rewritten."
Ingrid sighed, her eyes showing the first signs of genuine emotion—weariness, maybe even a tinge of sadness. "Then you understand the predicament we find ourselves in. Let's discuss this more privately."
Soon, they found themselves inside Ingrid's cozy home. It was furnished modestly but tastefully, with a rustic charm that matched the village's overall atmosphere. She gestured for them to sit, and then she began to fill a kettle for tea.
"Does anyone else in the village have these... abilities?" Sera asked, breaking the silence.
Ingrid set the kettle on the stove and turned to them. "A few. We've been cautious, keeping things under wraps as much as possible. It's difficult to know who to trust these days, even within our community. Power can easily get to people’s heads."
They both nodded in understanding, especially Zayzal. He didn’t know how much education Sera received, but as someone who was a bit more well-versed in today’s politics, he understood that absolute power corrupts absolutely.
Some people are laid back simply because of the constraints around them. Once those are broken or they’ve reached their limit, they could become a completely different person.
Zayzal, who was sitting next to Sera, stared at Ingrid. Or, more particularly, her head. There, he saw a cyan orb, similar to what he saw in Sera and the other Vikings.
‘Sera has a gold and red orb. The Vikings have red ones as well. Now, this lady has a cyan orb, which I assume is related to her talent. I wonder what my colors are and if there are more.’ Zayzal pondered, as this all seemed to be related to his talent.
Now that he got a closer look, the pathways in Ingrid’s body were mostly focused around her brain, with only a few reaching out a bit further.
‘I’m guessing she has a mental talent? Interesting.’ Zayzal thought, staring at Ingrid’s forehead intently.
He really wanted to ask her more about it, maybe even run a few tests to see what would happen, but at the same time, he didn’t want to mess with someone’s brain.
One wrong move, and she could die. He didn’t want to have someone else’s blood on his hands simply because he was curious.
Ingrid soon noticed Zayzal’s stare and became a bit uncomfortable, causing Sera to elbow him in the stomach.
“Oof!” He winced in pain, shooting a glare at her, only to receive one back. It was only then did he realize he made a mistake.
Chuckling awkwardly, he turned to Ingrid and apologized. “I’m sorry, it’s just that I have a peculiar talent. I’m still not 100% sure of what it does, so my curiosity got the better of me.”
Ingrid's eyes narrowed slightly as she processed Zayzal's words. "A talent, you say? You're able to see something unusual?"
Zayzal hesitated, cautious not to reveal too much, especially in a world where such abilities could be coveted—or feared. "In a way. It's hard to explain, and I don't fully understand it myself. I can perceive certain things about people, but I'm still figuring it out."
"Interesting," Ingrid mused, a note of curiosity in her voice. "Well, no matter. Do you two have any more questions?”
“Does the internet still work?” Zayzal immediately asked. His phone had died a long time ago, and reception in the mountains was bad to begin with, so this was crucial.
“Yes and no,” Ingrid replied. “On the first day, it didn’t, but now I’d say it works about 30% of the time. Those nasty storms have died down quite a bit, so that could be the reason. Nobody really knows what’s going on at this point. Oh, but phone calls aren’t all that reliable currently. Something about some kind of interference.”
Zayzal nodded thoughtfully, but Sera didn’t care. Instead, she was more interested in something else.
“How… How many people have died?”
The room fell into a momentary silence. Ingrid’s face became despondent before she shook her head and looked at the young woman. “These are just estimates, but the news says… anywhere between 30-50% of the population died on the first day.”
Ingrid continued, her voice heavy with the weight of the words. "In the village, we were more fortunate. We lost a few, but most survived. The isolation may have spared us from the worst of it, but we also believe that our community's natural affinity for traditional practices and unity helped us adapt better to the mana."
Zayzal and Sera exchanged another glance, each absorbing the gravity of what Ingrid had said. The loss of life on such a massive scale was almost incomprehensible. It wasn't just a tragedy; it was a cataclysm that had reshaped the very fabric of human society.
"That's...overwhelming," Sera finally managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.
"It is," Ingrid agreed solemnly. “For smaller communities like us, we weren’t as badly affected, but I can’t imagine what the rest of the world must be going through right now.”
Zayzal clenched his fists unconsciously, his thoughts a storm of emotion and resolve. He had underestimated just how bad things really were simply because most of the Vikings survived.
‘I need to see my parents!’
With his eyes lit aflame, he stared into Ingrid’s and asked, “I know this may sound sudden and ridiculous, but do you have a car we can take or know somebody who does? If you do, I promise to make it worth your while.”
Ingrid considered Zayzal's sudden request, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "A car, you say? It's not as easy as you think. Gasoline is becoming a scarce commodity these days with most people too scared to leave their homes, and besides, the roads are treacherous at best, filled with both natural and unnatural hazards."
"I understand that, but it's urgent," Zayzal begged, his voice tinged with desperation. "I need to find my family. I need to know if they're alright. And I have ways to make it worth your while.”
Ingrid sighed, deeply conflicted. Finally, she spoke, "Alright, we have a few old vehicles, and there's a reserve of fuel for emergencies. If you can make a strong case, then I’ll accept your offer.”
