Chapitre 2: Chapter 2
"Alvar! You are finally back! You have to tell us everything about your hunt. I hope you didn't encounter any problems?" Alvars grandmother spoke in question to Alvars uncle, the old hunter that had accompanied Alvar outside into the wilderness, Olaf who denied her question with a tired shake of his head after which he walked over to a corner and began putting down the thick furs that he had worn while out in the wild to keep him warm.
Alvar meanwhile ravelled in the warmth of his grandmothers hug while he felt his grandfathers rough and callused fingers ruffle his dark hair in affection. Only reluctantly Alvar let go of his grandmother who couldn't help but beam down at her ward. After all Alvar and his uncle had been outside in the wilderness for a whole three months on their own, as was the norm for any Norn male that underwent the first trial on his ascent into the ranks of the adults.
The first ritual of passage was held at the tender age of 10, three months before reaching the age of 11 years. The ritual was held in order to determine if the boy was ready to look after himself on their own, of course within limits as he was still a young boy. Thus a guardian accompanied every boy that underwent the trial. Though even then it was a dangerous undertaking to live for three months without being able to call for help or ask for assistance should the need to do so arise. But in the end all of the Norn knew not to question their traditions passed down from ages long gone as Tyria, the Shiverpeak mountain ranges in particular, were a harsh place to live in. Thus the Norn had early on understood and made it their task to form and guide the children from as early on as possible to prepare them for the dangerous life they may have in the years to come.
Once a child reached the age of 11 and was deemed mature enough said child would be granted the right to either join the spiritual ranks of the Norn, possibly becoming proficient in the arcane studies or instead join the military ranks so to say, even though the Norn had no real standing army so to say.
In the past the Norn had been rather reclusive and separated from each other, only small groups hunting or living together and exactly that lifestyle still carried on into the present in some aspects as the Norn had always been lone wolfs by nature so to say.
After letting go of his grandmother Alvar went over to his small room and peeled all the furs and dirty clothes off himself. Following the hurdle to free himself from the mess he had caused by doing so Alvar huffed in annoyance at the tenacious furs and dressed himself in a new set of clean clothes after which he went back into the warmly lit main room where his grandparents and uncle were already waiting for him near the firepit in the middle of the room.
"Come Alvar, have some stew while you tell us all about your hunt." His grandfather spoke in his rough voice while motioning Alvar to come over to them, his uncle Olaf already gulping down the delicious stew made by his grandmother.
Swinging his leg over the bench near the firepit Alvar sat down next to his grandmother who immediately pressed a gigantic bowl of stew along with five slices of bread into his chest causing Alvars eyes to widen slightly.
"W-Who's supposed to eat all that? I'm a Norn, not an endless pit!" Alvar said while trying to juggle all the food in his arms, not sure how he was supposed to eat anyways with both arms loaded with bread and stew.
"Young lads need to eat in order to grow and you have clearly lost 15 pounds at the very least since I last saw you! Now eat up!" His grandmother said with one eyebrow raised as if waiting for any protest to come though Alvar was smart enough to spot a trap laid by her when he saw it. Though his grandfather couldn't contain a muffled grunt of amusement while speaking with food filling his mouth:
"Now now dear, don't torture the lad with all your mothering. You'll suffocate him in the end from all the food you're shoving down his throat, hehehe!"
"Oh be quiet you old geezer and eat your food instead!" Alvars grandmother spoke while swinging her wooden spoon right before grandfathers face as if she wanted to challenge him to a duel to the death with it.
Watching their banter Alvar grinned in amusement after which he turned his attention back to his food and began shovelling it down his throat as ordered.
After a couple minutes of content silence with only the sounds of eating and drinking filling the room Alvars grandfather turned his attention towards Olaf who seemingly had expected the following questions to come sooner or later as he took a rather large gulp of his mead and put the bowl filled with stew to the side, bringing his full attention onto his father.
"What do you think? Is he worthy?" the grandfather spoke while brushing some stew out of the corner of his mouth with his hand stroking over his long, braided grey beard afterwards.
Uncle Olaf hummed in contemplation which caused Alvar to tense at the suspense as he knew he had failed to shoot the prey he should have killed in order to finish his trial. His young mind though totally forgot about all the other animals he had hunted in the months before today and thus caused him to sweat in fear of failing such an important event.
Though once Olaf answered Alvar exhaled in relief after which a bright smile illuminated his face in happiness.
"Yes, I think he is. He still has a lot to learn but he isn't bad at reading animal trails and improvising when it comes to building shelters or solving problems he encounters while outdoors. The only negative thing is his shooting. He isn't bad at it but I do not believe him to have much talent at the art which is a core requirement for everyone that wishes to become a professional huntsman. But yes, I deem him to be worthy." His uncle spoke, slightly dampening Alvars mood even though he knew he wasn't all that talented at shooting a bow. Staying in the wilderness you quickly are confronted by what you can and cannot do and it will develop into a rather bad situation real fast if you are unable to accept you lacking talents as Alvar had found out. Thus he had learned to accept his failings. At least the ones he knew about.
"I'm glad to hear that son. Now Alvar, tell us about your hunt." His grandfather spoke in a content voice, marked by age, after which Alvar began to tell his first own tale.
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