The Son Of Ragnar
One must see through the deceit of one's very own truth. Do you believe in the Old Gods? This story follows the life of a young African boy, who was ripped from the life he had known and thrown into an unforgiving one where a single mistake could cost him everything. Being branded a "thrall", he was to be sold but an unforeseen event swept him ashore in the heart of the Norsemen, the Vikings. What fate has the Gods chosen for this child? is it one of salvation or one of destruction? COVER IS OWNED BY ME!
ARC CONCLUSION [END]
"Where am I?" A voice muttered, his voice drowning within his subconscious.
He raised his hand and saw that it was covered in blood but there was no pain.
"Am I dead?" The voice questioned as it lay on a battlefield littered with corpses.
This was no other than Tyr, Tyr was in the land of the dead and once again but the sight that met him was a lot more gruesome.
This wasn't some scene from his past but it was meant to instill fear in his heart.
However, Tyr didn't feel any of that for death wasn't something he feared.
He knew this could happen any day but this didn't look like Valhalla either.
Tyr saw crows feeding off the corpses and one landed on his shoulder.
Tyr tilted his head and the crow was looking right into his eyes with an eyeball stuck firmly in its mouth.
Tyr didn't know why but it felt familiar, like he had encountered it before.