Chapitre 2: Shadows and Sunlight in Gråhavn
The sun hung high over the village of Gråhavn, casting a golden sheen on the wooden walls of the modest houses. It was a day like any other, with children's laughter echoing through the air and the rhythmic sounds of daily chores filling the village. Inside one of these houses, Torstein sat hunched over a book, its pages yellowed with age. The words within it spoke of distant lands and ancient wisdom, a stark contrast to the shouts and playful banter that drifted in from outside.
His brother, the very embodiment of Viking vigor, was outside, his laughter mingling with that of his friends as they engaged in mock battles, their wooden swords clashing with youthful enthusiasm. Torstein often watched them through the small window, a silent observer to a world he felt disconnected from.
The tranquility of the moment was shattered by their father's booming voice. "Torstein!" he bellowed, his tone laced with frustration. "Why do you bury yourself in these old tales? You should be out there, with your brother, learning to fight, to be a man!"
Torstein's heart sank. These words, though not unfamiliar, stung anew each time. He lowered his gaze, feeling the weight of his father's expectations pressing down on him. It was a burden he had borne for years, the constant comparison to his brother, a reminder of the path he was expected to tread but had no heart for.
As if sensing his distress, his brother soon appeared at the doorway, his face flushed from play, his eyes softening as they landed on Torstein. "Ignore him," he said, a hint of protectiveness in his voice. "You're fine just the way you are."
But Torstein's spirits were not so easily lifted. His brother's words, though kind, couldn't erase the years of feeling like an outsider in his own home, in his own skin. He smiled weakly, a gesture of gratitude, but inside, the storm of his thoughts raged on.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Torstein tried to lose himself in his book, but the words blurred before his eyes, overshadowed by the echoing of his father's voice in his mind. He was at a crossroads, torn between the love for his family and the need to be true to himself. To follow in his brother's footsteps meant denying a fundamental part of who he was, yet to embrace his own passions felt like a betrayal to his lineage.
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, Torstein sat alone in his room, the book lying forgotten on his lap. His thoughts wandered to the tales of heroes and legends he so adored, heroes who stood tall in the face of adversity, who followed their hearts despite the odds. Perhaps, he mused, the real courage lay in forging one's own path, in being true to oneself.
The night crept in, bringing with it a sense of peace and quiet contemplation. Torstein knew the coming days would not be easy, that the road ahead was fraught with challenges. But in that moment of introspection, under the blanket of stars, he felt a glimmer of resolve stir within him. Tomorrow was another day, and with it came the promise of new beginnings, of a journey to find his place in the world, on his own terms.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone