Skaði: Origin - Part 1

The Fjord.

When I was born my parents were still very much in love, and I’d guess that they loved me when I appeared in their lives. I was named Bāsil which in the language of my father’s forefathers meant "brave, fearless or intrepid" in an older language though it is the ancient Greek name for a king or emperor. Magnus for my mother’s father and Luftwith as my family name, because though my father’s grandparents had arrived in Germany from Türkiye they had tried hard to fit in and had adopted local names through marriage. My mother’s side of the family hails from Denmark, which at least when I arrived was only twenty or so miles to the north.

By the time I was 13 we lived in a small town outside Frankfurt, my father worked in IT – sales rather than anything especially interesting and my mother is a translator (Scandinavian (except Icelandic), Russian, Dutch and probably some more.) And worked for a big bank. I was a pretty happy kid, had a small circle of friends and sure we’d sometimes get up to mischief but mostly we’re pretty well behaved. I didn’t have a girlfriend though I’d reached an age where girls were interesting, and while one or two were more interesting than others I wasn’t brave enough to actually try and ask one out. I did have girls in my circle of friends but didn’t have any especially romantic feelings toward any of them, most I’d known pretty much all my life and dare I say it were more like sisters than friends.

My father is a cyber-survivalist, that is he thinks he’s the next Bear Grylls (or whoever) but gets all of his experience from watching YouTube or reading Reddit. He does go camping with some of his friends occasionally, or so he’s said. But he just has a ton of gear that he drives to the camp site with then drives home. He is physically fit due to a thrice a week gym habit, but only he really thinks he’s a rugged outdoors kind of guy.

We’d been planning the summer of 2015 for several months within our circle of friends, which consisted of myself and around twelve boys and four girls. We all knew that some of us wouldn’t be there for the whole summer as some of our parents would be taking us away with them to more distant parts. But the eight-week summer break would give us all time to have fun together – to just be friends.

So, when in mid-June my dad sprang a “we’ll be away for seven weeks walking round Scandinavia” on me I was less than impressed. If we’d been comfortable in each other’s presence, then I have no doubt I’d have loved to go off and do things with him for a summer. But my dad is either hot – “let’s make a man of you”, or cold – “having a kid was a mistake”. With me, he was never happy for me to be me, he wanted me as proof that he was a virile male and to show off to his mates too/about.

I argued and pleaded to get out of the trip, but he’d made his mind up and pretty soon it wasn’t so much a conversation as a “shut up and do as you’re told,” kind of thing. I went to my mother who I always felt I had a greater connection too. “Mother, please tell father that I don’t want to go with him.”
“He’s your father, you will have fun and create amazing memories with him on the trip. You will look back on this as a great adventure.
“But my friends and I already had our summer planned, a short trip is great but the whole summer?”
“You father knows better, you’re young, fit and healthy. There is no better time for you to do this, before your studies take more of your time. You will soon change schools and have much less time to bond with your father.”
“If bonding with him is so important why does he normally treat me like I am a nuisance. We could have gone out every weekend…”
“He has many things to do on the weekend it as important for him to be able to unwind from his important job.”
“He spends Friday evening out with his friends Saturday recovering from his hangover and Sunday watching football (soccer). He could have taken me camping once or twice over the months, whenever he does go but even then he comes home for the football, he doesn’t want me around normally. He wants to bond with me but only on his schedule.”
“So? Your father is a busy man, you should be grateful that he is giving up his summer to give you this chance.”
“He should have asked what I wanted to do before he gave up his summer to bond with me.”
“If you go now you will have an experience that few will have and gain an important bond with your father that many sons never achieve.”
“But mother, he’s not going for me he’s going for him, if he wanted a bonding experience, we could do so much without leaving Frankfurt or Germany. Please explain this to him, he will not listen to me.”
“We have already agreed that it is best for you to go now while you are young, I agree with your father. You will have so much fun that in September you will wonder where the time has gone. Now enough, your father knows what is best for you I don’t want to hear any more of this carrying on.”

~@~

I awoke groggy, I’d been dreaming about the arguments before we set off on this silly trip, but I… I really woke up properly the pain in my left leg agonising I suddenly felt sick. I was lying awkwardly on something squishy – my pack? – the air was laden with thick dust and even with my eyes open I could see little. What happened? I must have been in an accident, something had hit me knocking me unconscious whatever it was had done a number on my left leg which was sending waves of throbbing pain up my spine, the rest of me felt sort of okay, headache and otherwise battered. And my hearing wasn’t quite right somehow.

I must have dozed off or more likely fallen unconscious again as the next time I woke up the air had cleared somewhat and I could see better, sitting up wasn’t going to happen any time soon as my leg was so painful that any major movement meant my vision whited out and I felt faint. But I managed to lift my head a little. I had no recollection of where I was, I must have been knocked unconscious during whatever happened. I was lying about ten or fifteen meters away from the edge of a lake (or wide river), to my right/behind me a fairly obvious trail lead along the edge of the water, to my left/front a huge pile of broken rock covered the path and out into the water.

As I said I have no recollection of getting here or this place, but I somehow knew that my father was under the rocks. A large slab was almost immediately next to me it must have fallen clear of the avalanche and hit me with a glancing blow, I was lucky to be alive. My phone which I eventually managed to drag out of my trouser pocket had taken damage in the rock fall, whether from the actual rock or me falling on it, but it still functioned, however there was no signal and the battery wasn’t very full.

Over what felt like hours of time I managed to get out and pull my sleeping bag around myself and get the poncho I had been carrying mostly over me. I could do nothing for the leg. Any touch hurt like crazy, and I couldn’t move it for the same reasons – even by manhandling it, it just hurt so much and threatened to send me back to the land of nod. I managed to sip on the battered metal water-bottle, and even that wasn’t full.

I was beginning to get some more recent memories back; I didn’t remember the actual rock fall still and if the facts presented in the various medical dramas, I’d seen were true I probably never would, but I began to recall the day up to that point. We’d been walking between two camp sites, the one we’d stayed in last night had running water but nowhere to get food. The next one would be similar too with water but no food. But my father had planned his route carefully and was carrying enough dehydrated food to keep up both going between these camp sites. The path was well travelled so I was unlikely to lay here that long.

But the effort of wrapping myself in my sleeping bag had exhausted me and the pain from my leg and head pulled me back into the blackness of unconsciousness.

~@~

The trip wasn’t going well. My father walked faster – much faster – than I did, we were probably of similar fitness levels, but his legs were much longer. This meant that the comfortable fifteen to twenty kilometres per day he was expecting were closer to ten or twelve and I was getting slower as I just wasn’t used to multiple days of strenuous activity.

“Will you get a move on Bāsil? If we do not move faster, we’ll be setting up our tents in the dark again.”
“Sorry father, I’m tired.”
“It is not even noon, you shouldn’t be tired yet. Perhaps if you spent less time playing on your gaming machine…”
“Perhaps if you didn’t spring months long hiking trips on me and expect me to just be able to…”
“Must you continue about this? You are young, but I have let you get away with being lazy, but no more. Now walk faster.”
“Yes father…” I walked a little faster for a couple of hundred metres before slowing back down – we’d continue to argue like this all day, just as we’d done for the last month. At any rate if he didn’t murder me, by the time we got home he’d not want to spend any more time with me.

~@~

The next memory felt weird, it did not feel quite real and unlike previous memories about the last few weeks, this felt like it was being pushed into my brain from outside. I was wandering along the foreshore of the lake with a long spear in one hand, the rest of my body was indistinct but with me was another person, he was clad in leather clothing – like a barbarian might wear in a fantasy film. He was closer to the water and after a few minutes he strode into the water before stabbing down with his spear and flicking a fish onto the shore.

He turned and grinned at me but then spoke and gestured for me to try myself. Whatever language he spoke meant nothing to me. But I somehow got the meaning. My viewpoint moved closer to the water jumping from rock to rock until I saw the silver glimmer of the fish in a deeper section, I too stabbed down and missed completely – almost falling into the water. I felt anger and disappointment, I should be able to do this. The man also looked sad when I turned to him, but he said something that I took to mean “maybe you just aren’t suited to this” and “better luck next time.”

I had other memories from the two I was always the indistinct larger of the two, but one memory left me left little doubt that the two were lovers – nothing happened except plenty of grab ass and cuddling. For all that, my viewpoint was easily a head or more taller the smaller man seemed to love me. – And before you ask no it never occurred to me that I was remembering gay love between these two.

I had more memories of the two, they hunted up and down the shore for what felt like months, he was an amazing fisher, every thrust of his spear got a fish, I was terrible, I didn’t hit one. For all that though each time I missed a fish I felt disappointment and sorrow, the two were happy together. But I was unhappy about the sea birds that followed us along the shore, every night when I tried to sleep the noise of their calls kept me awake deep into the night.

Eventually the dreams or memories faded to black, and I must have slept.

~@~

When next I awoke I realised I was back into the strange tall man’s memories this time rather than being by the water we were on skis and moving across a snowy wilderness. I was armed with a massive bow, while my companion retained his spear. Here our roles were reversed I brought down animal after animal killing and butchering them with ease. But he seemed incapable of even landing a blow. Further at nights when I felt comfortable lying next to the fire in our camp, he huddled against me in obvious discomfort. I warmed him against me on many occasions.

~@~

Eventually these memories faded away and I viewed a memory of our final parting. My memory was of deep yearning and heavy sorry, I didn’t want to part from this man, but I couldn’t live down by the water where I was useless, and he wasn’t able to live in the mountains with me. And yet we still loved each other. The parting was tearful on both our parts, but part we did.

~@~

I had more memories of this tall person over the next years, my host was lonely and met the man several times at the place that they had parted. Each time when they met, they cuddled and kissed and made the most of their meeting, but each time they parted again. The person I was riding got increasingly depressed each time they parted.

~@~

After many years of this I went to the meeting spot but this time another person was there, a woman who was obviously with the man that I had been meeting for many years. And I felt joy, my friend had found himself someone to love. And I felt love and gratitude to this woman who had joined my friend – my loneliness didn’t get better, and my host was unhappy and out of sorts every time they met from then on.

Over time the woman bore my friend children, these too came to the meetings, and I played with them and told them stories about their father. I became like an uncle to them. One accompanied me into my mountains, and I taught him all I knew, but I was still lonely I missed my friend and especially the love we shared at the meetings. I felt jealousy for his love and children while still feeling love and admiration for him and his wife.

~@~

By this time, I had witnessed hundreds of meetings between the two, but the final meeting was different, he looked scared, and his wife wasn’t with him though several of his now adult sons were. They were, like him armed with great axes and shields. We talked, I got the idea that an evil was threatening him and his now quite extended family. But until it had been defeated or driven off, he’d not be able to meet me here – I was welcome to return with him, but I found the idea repugnant, living within his household given my inability to hunt along the water would make me wholly dependent and I was used to being on my own.

When we parted I knew somehow that this was the last, I’d see of him. As I returned to my mountain home I felt a great sadness.

The memories allowed me to drop back into unconsciousness again and I slept.

~@~

I returned to the real world, my leg was very sore, but I must be getting used to the pain though as I could move a little and managed to get my sleeping pad and bag more fully under me. It was close to nightfall, but given the dreams I didn’t know if this was the same day of the rock fall or sometime later. I could hear wildlife in the trees the lapping of the water on the shore and wind in the leaves but of human activity nothing. I sipped from my nearly empty water bottle and tried to ignore my full bladder – emptying that would be difficult. I managed to find an only slightly crushed energy bar from my pack, I didn’t have very many of those as I’d tended to snack in the morning then be hungry in the afternoon while my father carried most of our food, and all of the useful things that might have been a help in this situation.

~@~

It was the first week of our trip and we were still quite close to a town and my phone rang, thankfully I had ear buds in so dad didn’t hear it as he’d told me to turn it off till we got home – later he allowed me to charge it from the power bank he carried but that took promises of not listening to music all day to enjoy nature…

“’Allo?”
“Bāsil, it is Mia, are you still on holiday?”
“Yes my father is walking me round Scandinavia I won’t be back till the week before school starts.”
“Oh, I thought I saw your mother in the city, if she is with you…”
“Mother stayed at home, it is just father and I, what was mother doing?”
“Ah… it might have meant nothing but she was with a man he wasn’t just a friend if you understand.”
“I do thank you for telling me…”
“Maybe if you tell your father he will bring you home early?”
“I think he probably knows or suspects, he has not rung home since our second night. And he was very angry that night… I don’t know though.”
“Well I had hoped that I was mistaken.”
“Maybe, but probably not. How is Hofheim?”
“It is the same as always, we have missed you. But you have not missed much.”
“I have missed my friends.”
“We have all been away at times, our plans haven’t worked out as we’d have liked.”
“You were not all away at once, and whoever was home would have been more fun than my father. My battery is low, but if I can persuade my father to let me charge it, I will email you with the high or low lights of my trip so far. Please pass on my greeting to everyone and tell them I am missing them.”
“I will do that Bāsil, tschüss.”
“tschüss.”

So mother was having another affair, I wondered if I was the same man or a new one. I’d love to say I was surprised, but this was the third I knew of, though I knew my father would be annoyed that he was giving up his summer looking after me while mother fucked her way round Frankfurt, he’d had plenty of one night stands since mum had admitted her first affair, my parents I don’t think had loved each other for several years, they remained together because getting a divorce was too much work.

End of Part 1