Chapter Five

I rinse the blood from my face and walk onto the island on a mission. As I push myself through the concentrated underbrush, leafy plants and branches tingle my skin with every touch. My senses and emotions are extremely heightened after re-birthing someone and I need to ground myself to Saros.

The further inland I get, the steeper and rockier the terrain becomes. I reach the base of Freyja's mountain and gaze upward, wiggling my fingers into its familiar rocky pores. Foot by foot, I scale the face of the summit with determination. Dirt cakes underneath my fingernails and stains my skin as I climb upwards in the early morning light. The wind picks up with the elevation, whipping my wavy blonde hair around in a frenzy. Every strained breath and long reach of my arms brings me closer to peace of mind.

It brings me closer to him.

I grunt as I reach upwards and flop my right hand onto a familiar massive ledge. I push myself up a little higher with my legs until both hands find a fistful of grass. I brace myself and hoist my body up onto the fifty foot ledge. I sit back on my knees and wipe some sweat from my brow, leaving a little trail of dirt across my forehead. My eyes stay closed for a few moments as I catch my breath and prepare myself for the bitter sting of loss and loneliness. I inhale deeply and swallow hard, directing my gaze towards an overflowing field of amber and periwinkle flowers. The expansive meadow on the ridge runs about thirty feet long and twenty feet wide. It blooms all year long, producing a thick blanket of vivid florets that rise just above my hips. This is the most colorful spot on the island by far.

The sight of the lush, blossoming flora fills me with wistful reminiscing. I unavoidably end up thinking about him and what I've lost. In this place, his remains provide an eternal fertilizer that cultivates living proof he existed. I could have laid him to rest anywhere on Freyja, but this is where he would've wanted to be; watching over the world and protecting the assets of this island. His body became a sprawling meadow intended to shroud the narrow mouth of a cave carved into the mountain; a cave that must remain hidden at all costs.

I slowly stand and make way into the flowers, caressing the velvety petals between my fingertips. There's a small dirt circle in the center of the meadow where nothing grows, and that's where I want to be. My feet reach the patch of bare earth and I drop to my knees, leaning forward to place my forehead on the ground. I comb my fingers through the damp dirt as I lie in child's pose and try connecting with him. My fingers probe the soil for any residual energy his body might have left behind long ago even though I know there's nothing to feel. I haven't felt that connection since he left.

He's gone forever, and half of me died with him.

I sit up and work on grounding myself anyways, taking solace in the fact that we're together in some way, shape or form. This brimming field of flowers on the tip of the world is where I get to feel close to him. A mild zephyr rustles through the stalks of flowers surrounding me, the humid, salty air gently kissing my skin. I grin at the sensation.

Every time I'm up here, I envision myself sprinting towards the brink of the cliff and jumping right off the edge. I taste the adrenaline of freefall on my tongue and keep my eyes open just to see the splashes of color painted all around me. I'm not afraid to die because I know he'll catch me before I hit the ground. He'd never let anything happen to me, even though I couldn't manage to return the favor.

The breeze shifts ever so slightly and I furrow my brow with strained concentration. Far off in the distance, waves smack against hollow wood and ropes tightly bound to a mast creak with every swell. Thick, hefty sails blow southeast towards Freyja as wind whistles through the rigging of a ship.

My eyes shoot open and I jump up, hustling over to the edge of the cliff. I narrow my eyes to the north and dial in on a tiny speck a few miles out. I grit my teeth and quickly begin my decent back down the mountainside. My intuition is warning me that somethings horribly wrong. Ships don't come to Frejya very often; maybe once every three years or so. Most people avoid this place on purpose because they don't want to die, so the fact that there's another vessel offshore a mere twenty four hours after the last one is disconcerting. Someone could be scouting out the island for more than just blind curiosity. If that's the case, I'll die before any greedy human finds a single object under my protection. I've got to be prepared for the worst possible scenario. I'll give my life for this island and what's on it.