Viking Shot Glass
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For centuries, the world has been full of those who would take from us and our loved ones. For too long we have had to accept this as a fact of life. We have been forced to hide in shadows or crawl into dark corners where we could be safe. But that time is over. Now we must fight back.
The world needs us now more than ever. The Vikings have always been fighters, and we will not hesitate to defend our homes, families, and loved ones. For the first time in history, we can stand tall and face the enemy with pride.
No longer do we need to hide in dark corners or crawl under beds when the sun goes down. We can hold our heads high knowing that we are fighting for the right reasons. Our enemies have made themselves known and we know their names. It’s time to end this madness once and for all.
We will take the shot glasses home and fill them with our favorite spirits. Then we’ll toast our new lives, our new freedom, and our new destiny. This glass is a symbol of our strength and unity. It is a reminder that we are no longer alone. We have found each other again. We are brothers and sisters. And together we will never be defeated.
***
When I was a boy, my father told me there were three things I should never do: run out of debt, cheat someone who doesn’t deserve it, or cross an Irishman. I’ve tried to live by his advice. As a result, I’ve never had much use for gambling, and I’ve never been able to make it past the fourth round of drinks in a bar fight. When I was younger, I thought those were the only ways to get hurt.
I learned differently.
There are so many ways to suffer in life. We all have our own personal hells. Some of us lose our jobs, our families, or our friends. Some of us lose our health. Others lose their freedom. We all have our own personal reasons to curse the gods.
But you don’t need to go to hell to find your pain. You can find it right here on Earth.
You can be the victim of a random act of violence, or you can choose to make yourself a victim.
It’s up to you.
***
The Norse believed that death was the most sacred thing in the world. It was a place of beauty and peace, a place where one could find eternal rest. In time, they came to believe that a person’s soul would return to the earth from which it came, to be reborn as a new life.
To be reborn.
A new life.
That was what we were fighting for.
That was our destiny.
We would be reborn.
***
Kvothe was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He grew up in a wealthy family, and he had servants to tend to his every need. He never needed to work, and so he did not. The world was a place for others. It was a place of comfort and luxury. For Kvothe, it was a place of boredom.
He sought to fill the void inside him with books. He devoured them like a starving man, consuming them faster than any of his peers. His father tried to get him to study the classics. But Kvothe found the words on the page too dull. He wanted the words in his head.
His mother was less concerned about what he read and more concerned about the company he kept. She wanted him to stay away from his friends. They were commoners. Their education was inferior. Their manners were coarse. They would never understand him.
He ignored her.
And so she sent him to live with his grandparents.
They lived in a small town outside of the city. A poor farming community. There, he was forced to work the fields alongside his cousins. It was not the life he imagined for himself. It was not the life he had been raised to expect. And yet, it was better than anything else he could imagine.
For the first time in his life, Kvothe felt useful. He was no longer a burden on his parents. He was a contributor to his family. He was a provider. He was a son.
And he was happy.
Until he met Maeve.
Maeve was as beautiful as she was cruel. She liked to lure young boys into her bed. Her name was whispered in the dark corners of his grandfather’s house. A terrible curse. Maeve is a witch. Maeve will steal your soul.
It was all just a game to her. She laughed at the boys who came to her and begged her to save them. They were too young to know what they were doing. They would be lost to her forever.
She laughed at him too.
But he did not care. He wanted to be lost to her.
In time, he convinced her to love him. He showed her his scars. He told her about his broken home. He told her about his broken heart. And she listened.
After all, she was a witch.
She knew how to break hearts.
“I want you to tell me a story,” Maeve said one night when he was drunk and alone in her bed. “Tell me the story of my birth.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. You know exactly what I mean. Tell me the story of my birth.”
He had never heard her speak like that before. Her voice was cold. The fire was dying. “You are a witch. What if I tell you a lie? What if I tell you something different than what happened?”
“Then I’ll know. And I’ll cut out your tongue.”
His tongue was already cut out. He would not mind losing it again. “Very well. But I warn you, there are many ways to die. Don’t ask me to kill you.”
“Do it. Do it now.”
“No. We can talk. If we have time.”
Maeve didn’t answer. She turned away from him and closed her eyes.
Kvothe lay beside her. His heart was pounding. He wasn’t sure if it was fear or excitement. It didn’t matter.
He told her the story of his birth.
It was not the tale he had been raised to believe. He did not tell her about the witch. He did not tell her about the curse. He did not tell her about his father’s rage. He did not tell her about the life he imagined for himself.
Instead, he told her the truth.
That he was born of the goddess.
And that she would destroy him.
***
Weeks passed without word from the others. At last, the rains came. Not a storm, but a steady rain that began as early as noon and did not stop until late at night. It rained so hard that the land was flooded. Rivers burst their banks and ran through the streets. It rained so hard that the king called off the war.
The day after the rains began, the queen’s messenger arrived.
“Your Majesty,” he said, bowing low. “I bring terrible news.”
She had known this moment would come. She had dreaded it. But she steeled herself. “Speak.”
“It is as I feared. The plague has returned. And it is worse than before.”
The queen sank to her knees. “No. No. There must be some mistake.”
“There is no mistake. You will want to see it for yourself. I am sorry to say, there is little time.”
As the messenger left, the queen began to weep. She was not alone. Her husband stood beside her. He reached out and touched her shoulder.
“You must not blame yourself,” he said. “It was the plague. It was just bad luck.”
“But I could have done something. If I had stayed home, this might not have happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“If I had been here, it wouldn’t have happened. I should have stayed. I should have protected my people. If I had stayed, this would not have happened.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Your presence would not have changed anything. The plague was too strong. It was out of your control. It is not your fault.”
“But I should have stayed.”
“No. Don’t say that. You are the queen. Your place is here. Here is where you can help your people.”
She was silent for a long time. Finally, she rose to her feet. “Very well. Let us go.”
Her husband nodded and followed her back to her chamber. She lit a candle and began to prepare. He sat at her feet and watched as she tied a leather thong around her arm. It was red with blood.
“I am sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You have never seen me do this before. Don’t worry. I’m not angry.”
He smiled. “You have always been so calm. Even when it is raining, you are never worried about the rain. You know how to be brave.”
“This is no different,” she said. “We all face death. All of us. Even the king. It’s nothing new.”
“Yes. But it is still terrible. This is the first time I have ever seen you do this.”
“You’re right. I should have told you. I didn’t think it would come to this.”
“I don’t understand. Why did it come to this?”
She stared into the mirror and then sighed. “The plague has returned because I asked for it. I thought if I could see it, I could protect myself from it.”
“You should have known better. There is no way to protect yourself against the plague.”
“Yes, there is. I didn’t tell you this before. But the plague can be stopped. We just need to find the right herbs.”
“That’s impossible. There are no more plants that haven’t been plowed under.”
“Not exactly. They may look like they have been plowed under. But if we dig deep enough, we will find them. We will find them and save our people.”
“But how?”
“It is very simple. There is a way to stop the plague. All we have to do is bring it back.”
“What? You’re saying you want to bring the plague back?”
“No. I am telling you that there is a way to stop the plague. And if we can find it, we can save our people.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I have seen it in my dreams. I have seen it in my visions.”
“But the plague has been gone for years. If there was a way to stop it, why did it come back?”
“I don’t know. I’m sure the king knows. But he won’t tell me. He thinks I am too old. I don’t know why. I am not any older than you.”
“You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that. But the king is very old. It is true. I cannot even remember the last time I saw him smile. That’s the only thing I miss about being here. Seeing his face when I enter the room.”
“Then it is time for you to go home. We must find the cure. But you must leave now. The king will send the soldiers to kill you as soon as he learns what you have done.”
“I have to stay. I have to help. My people are dying. They need me.”
He nodded and kissed her cheek. “If you say so. But if you get into trouble, I will come after you. Don’t worry. I’ll be careful. I’ll be right behind you.”
She smiled. “Very well. Now go. We have much to do.”
As the messenger left, she sank to her knees again. She stared at the floor and prayed for a solution. She prayed for a way to save her people.
The End