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Prologue

Finnmark, 1350

On the third day, it started to rain blood At least, that’s what it looked like to Ivar Skarde as he surveyed the sky from inside the cave A brilliant red sunrise lit up the clouds to the east, saturating the horizon, just as rain began to fall Each shi droplet reflected the sunrise in such an otherworldly way that it could have been beautiful if Skarde had been in the s as such

But he wasn’t The plague was spreading north throughout Norway, and it was only a matter of time before it would reach him too, in the desolate, cold and blurry border between his hoh the Sárains in which the disease spread (of course, at the time they had no idea it was caused by rats which would often feed on the grains), Skarde didn’t feel safe Death taunted him at every corner He wouldn’t rest until he could somehow be free froue or so else

Skarde used to be a warrior for King Magnus VII A for levied his crusade against Novgorod, and it was one that Skarde would always conquer, without fear, even as many of his coed when he al the battle of Orekhov As Skarde lay there bleeding outside the fortress, snow falling on him like tears, he lost consciousness Becas so horrible, that when he woke up in the infirmary, he had a new appreciation for death, one born out of fear Fear that when he died, he would be sucked into the black hole, the endless void, of pain and suffering for all eternity

It took ages for him to heal back in Norway, and when he finally did, the black plague was spreading throughout Oslo Skarde took the opportunity to leave, to head north, up and up and up, hoping to leave all the death behind hi for him, like it had lost its chance and wanted a rematch

Eventually, Skarde heard things on his travels up north That many of the Sámi people hadn’t converted to Christianity, that soends of the frozen north were true

That there were things you could do to cheat death—forever

So Skarde went to theious practices, even language, differed between regions and tribes, and , especially since monarchies had tried to wipe out their ways But eventually he found one tribe that took hi a s and transportation They also practiced animism, their own form of witchcraft, and harbored a supposed connection to the underworld

Seppo was the leader of the group Though Skarde didn’t speak their language, Seppo seeive it to Skarde so easily, not so so heavy, that ca in a cave by himself, set apart from the tribe, for a year before Seppo deemed Skarde ready In that time, Skarde had picked up on the Northern Sá hi: A noaidi, a mediator between the human world and the saivo, the underworld, would come for him one day and take his happened on three days:

The first day there would be a s up

The second day lightning would strike the ground, as Tiermes, the God of Thunder and protector of huo against the laws of the world, that they werea mistake

The third day, the sky would rain blood, signifying the sorrow and pain that was to come

This was the third day, rain against a red sky Yesterday there was a lightning stor all the branches off of it until all that was left was a charred pole The day before that, the earth shook for a minute At first Skarde was convinced it was just a reindeer herd sta and the blood rain, he knew that his time had come

He stared at the rain falling for athe crisp white snow, et his fur hat and coat, preparing for the journey