It had all been for nothing.
He’d given it all up to protect them, and now he would die at the bottom of a river without ever having returned with the one thing that could promise safety to his loves. He would die, and they’d think he’d just left, never to return again. Nobody would bid him farewell, he would just be gone.
For some reason, he pictured his brother Bjorn then. He knew that there was no real way that Bjorn could know if Elias was alive or dead but somehow the idea of Elias becoming a nameless skeleton in a foreign land with the only family who ever cared about him never knowing, tore at wounds that Elias had spent his life carefully ignoring.
Elias didn’t know which he drowned in faster, the water or despair.
“L
et’s go, he looks dead.”
“His heart is beating, he isn’t dead.”
“Almost dead, then.”
Something surged inside Elias, something vile, and suddenly what felt like an entire river rushed through him and burst from his mouth.
“That is… disgusting.”
Elias choked on the dirty river water as his body tried to rid him of it. Afterwards, he collapsed on his back again, groaning.
“Told you he wasn’t dead.”
“What do we do with him?”
“He’ll die of the cold out here, we should take him back.”
A few moments later, Elias felt himself being lifted by strong arms and sat on something warm and kind of hairy.
“My rock, I need my rock. Can’t go without it,” Elias mumbled desperately.
Someone sighed. “You almost died, I think you’ll manage without a rock.”
“I need it. Leave me, then. I can’t go without my rock. It’s all for nothing without the rock,” Elias practically sobbed.
“Fine, shhh. Okay, we’ll go via your camp and collect your rock, then.”
“Thank you,” Elias whispered to the kind stranger before collapsing back onto someone’s chest and swiftly passing out again.
When he came to, he was fairly sure he was hallucinating, because if he wasn’t, then he was riding on the back of a verylarge charcoal-grey wolf. Arms wrapped around his middle were keeping him upright, and he was relieved to find his ugly brown rock nestled safely between his legs.
“Umm… who are you?” Elias asked.
“Oh, he’s finally awake,” the man said. “I’m Red, and this is Wim.” He patted the side of the wolf they were apparently riding.
“You tamed a wolf??”
Red chuckled. “You could say that.”
The wolf growled. “I have a name.”
Elias startled. “Did you just talk? Are you sure I didn’t die in the river?”
“You heard me, and no, you didn’t die. The name’s Wim, thank you for asking.”
“Where are you taking me? I need to go home.”
Elias wasn’t even certain of how long he’d been gone now, and he felt sick at the distress he must be causing Henrik and Johan by his slow return.
