Berserker

    Berserker - 1. A sect of Norse warriors who would fight with no armor and would continue fighting despite wounds or chance of victory.

    2. Used to say some one has flipped a shit and done something rash with no self-regard….

    3. Derived from berserkr, an Old Norse word. plural; Berserkir.

    The hut’s door flew open as Astrid hurriedly ran out.  She did not bother to check on her daughter and husband, who were in the middle of training, as she ran past them, hiking up her dress.  Unlike them, her hair was blonde.  Her hair is usually braided, but in this instance it wasn’t.  She headed straight for where the bears roamed while Helen and Ulfric watched her.

    The two held their staffs upright as Ulfric wiped the sweat from his brow.  Helen, then 13 years old, panted and mimicked her father’s action. 

    “We are done for the day Little Cub,” he said.  “Let us walk.”

    Helen nodded, handing Ulfric her staff before he rejoined the weapons with the others on the rack.  The pair began to follow the trail of Astrid, though in not as much of a hurry.  The air felt different today.  Helen has been training for years, following the guidance of her mother and father, learning the basics of combat, learning how to make her own weapons, even a little magic.  Still, there was something different about this day and it was about to become clear.

    “Helen,” Ulfric began, his tone turning serious, noticeably not calling her by her pet name.  “Do you remember the day I began to teach you how to fight with a stick?”

    “Of course father,” she replied.

    “Do you remember everything?” pressed Ulfric.

    Helen stops, “I… I think so. I remember you were particularly hard on me that day, but I also remember us having to end because I lost my temper.”

    “I see…” Ulfric responded, lost in thought as the silence grew.

    “What troubles you father?” Helen inquired, breaking the spell.

    “Helen,” Ulric began, again not using his daughter’s pet name.  “You did not simply lose your temper that day.  Do you what a berserkr is?”

    “A berserkr?” Helen repeated, revealing both excitement and panic.  “I heard the other children speak of them.  Men who can change their form into wolves and bears!  Are you saying I can become a bear?  Are the bears we watch over men?!”

    “No!” Ulfric chuckled.  “The bears are not men.  As for men turning into creatures, yes that is a possibility.  Are you a berserkr?  Yes, Little Cub, you are.  A rare one at that.”

    “I don’t understand.”

    “You will, Little Cub.”-Ulfric finds a large rock, deciding to sit down before looking at his daughter-“I have to start from the beginning.  Berserkir are a different kind of warrior.”-Helen also decides to plant herself on the ground as her father began-“These are men and women, capable of taking on the nature of a bear for the sake of battle.  Armor and shields become useless tools.  You can even say weapons are useless in some cases.  Fires, arrows, wounds born of blades, mean nothing to them.  There one purpose in that moment is to slay their enemies.  All sense of reason is gone, Little Cub, their minds are gone, only the lust for blood.  They are fierce warriors, feared by many, yet still viewed as madmen.  They are the difference makers in battle, yet have little regard to their own lives.  Many have fallen as well as succeeded, but not before sending their enemies to Hel, Valhalla, or Folkvangr, whichever the Valkyries decide.  Those who become berserkr are superior in strength, agile as a wild animal, tough as hide, some would say they are no longer man.  The secret behind it all is the connection to bears.”

     “What of wolves, father?”

    “Those are different, they are called ulfheonar.  Though, they are similar in the ideal and nature, their power is focused through a connection with wolves.”

    “And berserkir have a connection with bears.”

    “Aye, you are keeping up, Little Cub.  Often berserkir wear the hide of bears, it is one way in which they gain the bear’s power.  Plenty do not need as such.  It is a spiritual thing, Little Cub, a link between man and that which we do not see nor fully understand, the spirit world. Some would slay bears, wear their skin, use their bones; some even consume them to have their power.  Others grow to understand them, living as they do, survive as they do, fight as they do, going on a personal journey that could kill them.  Those who come back with their mind as well as their life can now harness the bear’s power.  There are other ways.  That is where you and I come in.”

    “You are a berserkr, father?”

    “Yes, Little Cub, I am.  You know of Beowulf, yes?”

    “The Beowulf?!  I’ve heard many speak his name and what he has done!”

    “Aye, he is a berserkr, but of a unique kind.  He is a man in control of his power and senses.  He has mastered it.  So have I.  I discovered a third way, but it is not unique.  I have taken the journey.  I have not returned home until I’ve come to understand it.  I sometimes wear the skin of a bear, but I did not slay him.  He was a dear friend, Little Cub.  He was my companion until his dying days.  I have prayed, I have honored him, and asked of him the right to use his power.  I named him Bjorn, which has evoked many a laugh.  He has been with me on many a journey and has graced me with his power.  He has helped me gain control of my own in the process.  I have experienced the madness of being a berserkr as well as the gain.  I have lost myself, finding myself covered in blood with little memory of how I got there.  I have experienced many wounds with the scars that mark my body this very day.  Being a berserkr may sound glorious, but it can be a horrifying power.  I do not wish for you to experience such horrors, Little Cub.”

    “You said I was rare father.  How?”

    “You are a natural berserkr.  You were born with it, Little Cub.  That means that the power of a bear lies within you and has the potential to be stronger, but also the potential to fall to the madness, more than other berserkir.  You have to hone that power, Helen.”

    “I…”-Helen pauses, taking it all in.-“I don’t know how.”

    “That is why you have me to help you.”

    Ulfric rose from the rock he sat on, placing a hand on his daughter’s shoulder before motioning her to follow.  Another silence falls between them before Helen breaks it again.

    “I’ve heard they bite their shields.  I find it a strange tactic.”

    “It sounds strange, but there is more to it than you are aware.  Most think of it as another sign of their madness, but it is actually a unique form of battle magic, one which shields them from harm.”

    Helen nodded as they ventured through the woods, following the trail of Astrid with Ulfric guiding their path.  The duo spots her, hunched over a black mother bear, which just gave birth to cubs.  As she turned to greet them, she is holding one of the cubs.  As Helen approached, Astrid hands the cub to her.

    “Name her,” Astrid said.

    “W-what?” Helen replied, taken aback by Astrid’s suddenness.

    “Go on, Helen,” Astrid pressed.  “Name the little one.”

    Speechless, Helen looked from her mother to her father, who simply nodded at her.  She looked at the cub, still unsure on what to do or say.  She was still taking in everything her father told her and now she is responsible for naming a cub?  There was more going on. She was sure of it. 

    “Hertha,” Helen finally answered, handing the cub back to her mother, who in turn returned the cub to her mother’s side.

    “Good choice,” Astrid said.  “Your father has spoken to you?”

    “Of course my love,” Ulfric said. “I have not told her what is ahead.”

    Astrid nodded, reaching a hand out to her daughter.  Helen took it was led towards the now nursing mother bear. 

    “She will be your companion,” Astrid began.  “Just as Bjorn to your father.”

    “I-I… I don’t know what’s going on mother,” Helen stammered. 

    “I know little one,” Astrid replied.  “The path that lies before you may scare you, but it needs to be done.  Bears are strong, brutal yet gentle.  Their rage comes to surface when protecting their land, especially when protecting their young.   They have fought fiercely among themselves as well as others for the sake of survival and dominance.  They share plenty in common with berserkir, thus one of the secrets to understanding their power.  I’ve sensed the power within for some time Helen.  For that reason you are to go on your own journey.”

    “No!” Helen shouted, jerking her hand away and stepping back from her mother.  “I can’t. I won’t!”

    “Little Cub,” Ulfric said.  “Do not be afraid.  We have no desire for this, but it is also necessary.  It is a power you have to control or your life could be a difficult one.”

    “I didn’t ask for this power!” Helen raged.  “It’s not fair for me to be punished by being sent away!”

    “It is not forever, Little Cub,” Ulfric appealed.  “It can be in a year, perhaps less than that.  We are not punishing you; we are trying to help you.  Your mother and I both do not wish for any harm to come to you, including from yourself.  This journey is dangerous, but it one that will further allow you to master the power.  With control, you may never have to call upon it for as long as you wish.  This is also difficult for us; we do not wish to be apart from you.  You are our strength, but also our weakness Little Cub.  For that reason, if you do not wish to go, we will not force you.”

    Looking from her father to her mother, Helen was unsure of what to do.  Overcome with emotion and everything she learned, she dropped to her knees.

    “I don’t want this power…” she cried.  “I don’t…”

    Both mother and father rushed to her side, embracing their sobbing daughter.

    7 years later

    With the roar of a bear, Helen slams her palm into a tree, the force knocking it over.  The tree slams into the ground, causing birds to flee and briefly drawing the attention of other creatures.  Helen looks at her hand.  The words of her father in her head:

    Take care of them, Little Cub, and they will take care of you.

    Sitting on the ground, she pats the head of a black bear, one of Hertha’s children.  The other two wrestled behind them.  She thinks about the journey she’s been on, how terrified she was at first, but it proved to be an experience she didn’t regret.  She remembers how often she cursed her mother and father’s names when she began and how quickly she embraced them when it was complete.  The friendship that formed between her and Hertha is one that she still cherishes, even though she is no longer among the living.  She once vowed to never use and harness the power of a berserkr, but now she embraces it, using it to her gain when fighting rogues, bandits, and especially other berserkir.  When she loses control, it is often due to the memories:  Losing her mother, father, and Hertha, the rogue band of berserkir and ulfheonar that plagued many a clan.  Their leader, this sorcerer, was a berserkr of a different kind.  He drew more than from a bear.  The bear skull masked his or her identity, the wolf hide worn over their shoulders, the snake skin that went into his clothing, and the flaming sword.  Her last memory was of her mother and father sending her away again on that snowy day.  Her father swinging his mighty sword before her view of them is blocked by the blizzardy wall of snow.  When she returned, everyone was gone.  All that remained was her father’s sword and Hertha’s corpse. 

    She often took time to herself, away focusing and practicing to calm her rage, to not allow herself to fully succumb to being a berserkr.  It is indeed a terrifying power. 

    “Where to, Gunborg?” Helen addressed the bear next to her. 

    The bear simply looks at her, then lying her head back down with a huff.  Helen chuckles, leaning back and resting her head on her hands. 

    “Resting it is,” Helen said.  “We see where the journey takes us after.”