Berserker

"Not now!" Brodolf called to the gods for mercy, though they had never shown him any before. His shoulders continued to hunch, bones cracking, muscles growing and changing. "Kelda!" he roared, his voice contorting with the changing shape of his jaw.

Kelda threw her hands over the tortured man, chanting the ancient words that were the only thing standing between her alpha and the curse that threatened to take over his body and his mind. If the alpha was lost, so was the clan.

"Keep fighting, Alpha!" Kelda, the pack's shaman screamed over the rising wind and the crack of lightning crossing the sky.

Brodolf threw his head back and howled, the sound long, loud and dripping with pain. Suddenly, he felt a pop, weak as a soap bubble, but a sign that he had won this round. They had once again beaten back the berserker that lived within him. Slowly, his body righted itself until finally he was left lying on his side, naked and spent, upon the frozen ground. Kelda sat next to him, murmuring nonsense and stroking his hair, giving him what comfort she could until he recovered enough to sit up and wrap the blanket she held around his body.

"Thank you, Kelda," he said, his voice still gravely from the partial shift and the howling.

Kelda nodded her head and turned her eyes to her alpha, startlingly clear and green behind the black paint she wore around them. Sorrow tainted them. "It is getting close to your time, Alpha. It gets harder and harder to bring you back. We must redouble our efforts to find the one."

Brodolf knew she was right. He could feel it. The curse Odin laid on his bloodline was getting stronger as he neared his 350th year. The Sköll Pack descended from the line of Fenrir's son, Sköll , who was also the god Loki's grandson. Odin had been jealous of their growing strength and scared of the prophecy that Fenrir would kill him in Ragnarök, so he had cursed the firstborn male of each alpha to try to limit their growth. Clan Sköll had lost many Alphas over the years to the berserker curse. If Brodolf didn't find his fated mate soon, he would be lost to the berserker and his clan would have to destroy him as well. That would leave his brother, Brandur, in charge, and that he could not allow to happen.

"I know, healer. I feel it as well." He gathered his feet under him and stood to clothe himself again. He had ripped off his leggings and furs when he had felt the change coming upon him. They didn't have the clothes to waste out here on the cliffs of Faroe Island. "We've traveled all the known lands these last centuries and still have not found her. What else can we do? We must not allow Brandur to take charge. He will decimate the Clan in less than a generation with his greedy ways."

Already their grandfather and father had been lost in a war with Clan Hildisvini, protectors of Freya. The title came to Brodolf when he was only 250—very young for an alpha—but he was exceptionally strong and had risen to lead as his ancestors had taught him. No one could beat him in mortal combat to challenge his rule, not even his brother. No one, that is, but the curse that lived inside him. Kelda turned sideways and looked out over the cliffs to the stormy winter sea. Ice floated up to the beaches. They would have to leave this place soon. "I have seen something in a vision I have not shared with you, Alpha. I had hoped it was not a true vision."

Brodi's head whipped up at her words, his braids flying, and he impaled her with his ice blue eyes. "Have you seen her? Kelda, you must tell me!"

Her eyes met his through her long lashes, the black paint making them deep, dark pools. Her long red hair whipped across her face despite the intricate tangle of braids she wore. "I think I have seen her but....but she is not here."

"What do you mean 'not here'? Speak plainly, woman!" Brodolf had no time for her vague seer prophecies. He needed decisive action.

"She is in a place far from here," she said in the dreamy voice that came upon her with her visions, "A time far from here."

The Alpha could feel his expression harden as he gazed at her. A time far from here. "Faen! What, by Odin's teeth, are you saying?"

"We must travel there, Alpha. We must take the Clan and go before it is too late. Even now, the Hildisvini are amassing for another battle. You cannot afford to fight again until your berserker is controlled or we are all lost."

Brodolf knew this all too well. He ran his hands along his braids gathering them at the top of his head with a thong of leather again. "Travel in time?" he asked incredulously. "How?"

Kelda continued to stare out to sea. He paced in frustration, awaiting further information. This was not something he had ever heard of, even in the sagas. Kelda would not be rushed, however, when she was in this state.

Finally, she spoke. Her voice rang clear in the night air. "There is a place near the Yggdrasil..."