Journey of an Einherji - The Sword of Summer

[A/N: Hello! Just here to give context on something.

As you know, whenever Bruno speaks in Spanish, I also write the translation or the equivalent of the words/sentences in English. Unfortunately, there's a sentence that doesn't have an good translation and I couldn't find one either. The sentence, in Spanish is, vizconde demediado, which is a reference to a fictional character of the same name. To understand, I'll give you some brief context.

The viscount is a character who was cut in half vertically, yet he survived, resulting in one side being extremely good hearted and the other side being the opposite. And when I read that book I couldn't help but think of a certain someone.

That's all that I'll share, you'll understand once you reach that part of the chapter. Enjoy!]

Fortunately, no one slapped me awake this time.

My eyes opened slowly, my vision was all blurry. I could have been in any other place and I wouldn't know. I sat up carefully, my head throbbing. I rubbed my eyes, trying to get the sleepiness away. The cut on my cheek stung, not as much as before, and my nose had stopped bleeding. Once I stopped rubbing my eyes, I looked my around me.

To my great pleasure, I was still on the rocky beach. To my great displeasure, the sun was rising. I don't know how do the jotuns measure time, but if it was the same as it's in Midgard, then it was the middle of the afternoon. More or less.

"Qué boludo que soy." (I'm such an idiot) - I cursed myself quietly.

I had, pretty much, slept an entire day.

Great, just great.

I guessed that Magnus, Sam, Blitzen and Hearthstone weren't done searching for Thor's hammer, otherwise they would have returned to the camp, find out I wasn't there and, I hoped, they would have look for me. Well, if I wasn't at the campsite a day later, that would have meant that I was dead. So, all I could do was wish that they were still in Jotunheim.

I crawled towards the river. The waters were more calm than before, enough for my face to look back at me. My nose didn't seem to be broken, it was slightly reddish with dry blood on my upper lip. The cut on my cheek was a bit closed, not enough to safely poke it. Still looking at my reflection, I got up and saw how lucky I was. My T-shirt was ripped in the middle, a large gash was in my chest; from my sternum to my left ribs. It was clear that I hadn't realized that during the fight, probably thanks to the adrenaline. The cut wasn't deep enough to worry me, it would certainly leave a scar, unlike the other one.

I got up and looked down at me. My longcoat was ripped in some places, my jeans looked like they had been used for five years every day, my ring...

The silver ring looked the same as always, it was the rune that seemed different. It was still black, but for a moment I thought that I saw a dark blue, dim light, like a remnant of its power.

I took the ring off. Coldbringer laid in my left hand. Despite having no physical changes, I felt there was something different in it. Maybe it was because it had used its power. Maybe it was the way I saw the blade. Once, nothing but a ring given to me by Ullr, then a weapon to defend myself, and now a sword that had saved my life. It truly was a gift.

I looked back to where I had beheaded Angrboda, taking my mind back to the duel.

From the very beginning I had gone for the kill, I had to do it to survive. I didn't know that I had that in me.

When I encased her in ice, to use my abilities, I had to call upon the power. At first I had been a little afraid that I would loose control, but I managed not to, because I accepted what I had... was a part of me.