Runestones 04

 Find a way

Carole Blackburn

The brightening world looked on with slitted eyes.  Helgason finished his feast of berries he had collected along his route. Perched on the rockpile, he frowned at the Rune circle. The carved stones somewhat worn, that encircled him. There were times, he would have been crouching down in his usual hiding place. Here he would have observed the Elders. Mattis, Sigrid, and Junis, the Statesmen as the youngsters named them, who had been elected by the community.

Often at home Helgason, would lay near the hearth, at the end of the day only to hear his father say, “The telling of the Runes,” is a secret meeting of great importance,” in an attempt to silence his son’s curiosity.

These attempts of his father, failed once and for all, after he first saw Astrid, at the annual community assembly, at the coming of the harvest moon. The gathering for the Norse god Frigg, who was a paragon of love, fertility, and fate. He decided then and there, he needed to find out more about his future with her.

When the days dissolved into nights, and the darkening stretched into the colder season. And the ‘telling of the Runes’ were due to commence. Helgason trekked along the craggy path and hid behind the thorny shrubbery on the very edge of the forest glade, but still in earshot of the three elderly Statesmen. These became regular outings for Helgason and were to become his education into manhood.

Helgason trusted the wisdom of the Runes. They protected his kind; the runes’ knowledge had guided life for centuries. His ancestors would never have disputed their decisions. Just as the mountain air filled his lungs, the Runes had imbued him with their secret powers, casting no shadows within him.

With winter creeping across the wilderness of his homeland of Noreg (Norway, to you and I) being the eldest son, Helgason’s, hunting skills were already honed. His father regarded him as a dependable male, bringing home his animal kills and foraged supplies, to sustain his family over the darkening season. It was time for his son’s future to commence.

Astrid’s gentle but stubborn streak flowed within her. Becoming a woman and battling with her older sisters, Erika and Ingrid’s growing demands, to find their individuality. Together with their father’s attention since their mother’s death, challenged them all.

 None more so than, Astrid.

Trouble had laid ahead for this family, the fourth baby had not been planned and the Runes had foreseen this. Mattis had warned the family, to be prepared. The outcome, left Astrid distraught knowing her mother’s arms would never cradle her, again.

It was usual for the sunrise to warm and melt the grey dark mood that hung in Astrid’s mind of what her future may become. However, today her greying mood clung to her like the fog that shrouded the morning ground. It had been her chore to forage for firewood for the cooking of the main meal. Her courage to cope made her adept in her life to carry on to the best of her ability. In whatever way, she appeared, to the outside world. However, she was brightened by a chance meeting with Helgason that day. He had spied her wandering, seemingly lost.

Now, they sat on the rockpile, huddled against the howling wind, after all of the three statesmen had left the Rune circle. They had heard them translate the Runes which foretold the young adults their future. It was settled. Sorted. They were to be wed.

 Astrid was not so sure and asked, “My situation will bring its own future, can we manage it alone, Helgason?” 

His thoughts swirled around eclipsing the truth.

It would be fine, ‘the telling of the runes’, have spoken. He thought.

He would find a way.

 Hiding from the truth, was a way Helgason tried to regulate difficulties in his life.

Glancing down at his hands, which had been scarred forever. That day’s event came flooding back. The scalding water had seeped into his skin when trying to help his mother in the kitchen. The disfigurement was often hidden by mittens even on the hottest of days. This everyday reminder of his now, damaged, previously carefree boyhood days. At times, this memory, caught him unaware, just like his feelings for Astrid.

The Norwegian way of life is to be prepared. Mother nature guides and watches the planet’s custodians. With the intent of nurturing one generation to the next. The runes carved into the circle of stones, arranged over time to remain, like a torch, forever.

Life’s route with its twists and turns had bought Helgason to a crossroads on this eve meet, with Astrid. In a familiar spot, they had chosen after the community assembly for the god Frigg, just a few months past. Now, not long to wait.

The day became night, with a patchwork of clouds in hues of grey, gathered. Astrid walked hand in hand with her sister, Erika, who guided her younger sister. Now, essential in the dimming light and the threatening rain,

Helgason’s figure silhouetted the skyline, in the last edge of daylight before the night took over. He turned on hearing footsteps, but only one pair he could hear now. Concern raised in his chest, forcing his focus on the sound of the footsteps. He could see Astrid was alone, her hands outstretched feeling the night air for danger.

Erika, had with reluctant feet returned home, for her job was now done. The birth of her youngest sister, the unseen baby in her mother’s womb. Hiding a challenge not foretold.

The runes belong to the gods and their reasoning of altered lives are kept from the planet’s custodians.

Astrid sensing Helgason, her eyes that had never focused, never seen. Hands that grasped the darkness as he took her hand into their new life.

The planet’s past is part of our changing world. It will continue to stride forward promoting its custodians, into finding a way.

 

 Copyright Carole Blackburn