Chapter Text
Jan had been born the day after Freyfaxi. He seemed like a normal, healthy child at first until a storm about a week after his birth. The priest had warned his parents that this was an omen but his mother and father were determined to love him all the same.
Still, with every passing month, the priest’s words rang true. Even though he was just a baby, he never cried. Instead, he seemed to observe the people around him. His small brown eyes were focused on whatever adult was closest like he was trying to learn their habits and way of life. When he learned to walk, he often followed older children and adults and quietly looked at them.
As he grew, his mother was relieved when he became more lively. He liked to stack rocks and play by the tree line and stayed away from other other children like he didn’t belong with them. As a result, his clothes were almost always muddy.
By the time he became a young adult, his demeanor had become the polar opposite from when he was a baby. At times, Jan was loud and almost cruel to his peers. He did his best to avoid any sort of work and his appetite was seemingly never ending, especially for alcohol. Jan refused to take orders from his father and didn’t quite see the need to pay for things.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Jørn watched anxiously as Jan carefully wiggled at two decrepit planks on the shed wall.
“Why wouldn’t it be? Björn won’t even notice two or three jugs of mead missing.”
“But what if he does?”
“He won’t. Get in.”
“Why me?”
“Because you’re smaller than me. I won’t fit.”
With a sigh, Jørn got on his knees and began to try to force himself through the opening. Sometimes, he wondered why Jan was like that. At other times, he wondered why he always let himself be roped into Jan’s schemes. Maybe he hoped that he could convince him to make the smart choice. Maybe he just didn’t want to see him go down on his own.
The inside of the shed was pitch black. Jørn needed a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. He squinted at the shelves. A row of sealed clay jugs caught his eye. This must be the mead for the festival tomorrow.
“Is it in there?”
“I think so.”
“Well what are you waiting for? Hand me some jugs.”
Jørn grabbed one of the pots in front of him. It was heavy and definitely had liquid inside.
“Here.”
Jan couldn’t believe his luck. He received a second and third jug and set them on the ground. Jørn poked his head through the hole and Jan pulled him out the rest of the way. Together, they made of into the forest. Øystein, Kjetil and Sven were already waiting for them in a clearing.
“You actually did it!”
“We’re no pussies, Sven.”
They sat the jugs on a flat rock. The others had managed to sneak some food from under the noses of their parents.
Jan took it upon himself to open the first jug and helped himself.
“Is it good?”
“Strong. Extremely strong.”
He handed it to Kjetil who took a sniff and nearly stumbled back.
“Oh my.”
The mead was passed around until the first jug was empty. Jan felt like he was about to piss his pants. He staggered behind a bush. After a short battle with his belt, he managed to pull his pants down and, with his underarm stabilizing himself on a tree, finally relieved himself.
A raven landed on a branch above him. It looked at Jan with interest. The boy looked up as he refastened his clothes.
“What do you want?”
The bird turned it’s head to look straight at Jan.
“Changeling…”
The raven’s voice sounded like it had never spoken before. Still, it struck fear into Jan’s heart, if only for the unexpectedness of the situation.
“What?”
“Changeling. You don’t belong here.”
Without waiting another second, the bird took to the skies and disappeared into the black sky. Jan stared after it for a while as he tried to make sense of what just happened.
“Jan? Jan! Are you alright? You look pale as a ghost.”
Jørn gripped onto his shoulders like he was worried Jan would fall over.
“The… the bird talked to me?”
“What bird?”
“Uhhh… raven.”
Jørn looked at Jan like he was insane.
“Why don’t we go back to the others?”
Jørn pulled Jan back to the clearing. For the rest of the night, Jan drank like usual. It must have been long past midnight when he finally passed out.
Even in his sleep, he couldn’t shake the image of the raven’s black eyes staring at him. The word changeling echoed in his head. Jan dreamed that something beyond the trees beckoned him to come.
In the morning, the five were woken up by voices coming from the brush.
“Where are these guys?!”
“They can’t be far. I would guess that they’re hungover, lying in the bushes somewhere.”
At least two men were steadily coming closer to them. Jan could feel that the others were just as awake as he was. He decided that he should play dead along them. Still, the foot steps became louder until they were right next to Jan’s head.
“There! Ted, I found them!”
“Thank Odin! Hey, they’re pretty mad at you guys.”
Jørn peered at Gylve and Ted.
“You should think of something to get you out of this.”
The five drunkards sat up. Øystein felt a bit dizzy as he pulled Sven to his feet.
“They’re really sure that Jan stole some booze.”
“He did.”
Jan shoved his elbow into Jørn’s ribs.
“You were there too.”
“No matter which one of you it was, you should stay away from the village for a bit. Ted and I brought you some stuff. Food, blankets and a water skin. You should go to one of the large lakes in the east and lay low for a bit.”
Jan and Jørn looked at each other. It dawned on them that they might have gone too far this time.
“Thank you.”
Jørn took one of the bags and pulled Jan to his feet. The others watched as their friends walked into the direction of the rising sun.