Erik stood at the port. He watched as fleets of small ships came and went, thousands of people filling his large settlement. His people and the surrounding tribes had become desperate for a solution to the increasingly harsh conditions and flocked to his summons.
Some for the thrill of adventure, achieving what their ancient ancestors had done, others for the escape to better lands. Erik looked down at his daughter, Helga who was watching the the fleet with an excited smile.
"My daughter." His rough voice called for her. "When every Jarl, King and warrior arrives we shall hold the God Summoning ceremony. I wish for you to lead it." His words caused Helga to light up but she quickly began to shake her head.
"I cannot father. The ceremony must be led by a God Bound..." Her words were cut off by a heavy, but friendly slap to the back from Erik, who laughed at her.
"You are a brave warrior like your fallen brothers, if you are not a God Bound then no one is. The scars on your body and the weapon on your hip are enough proof. But more than that, you carry the blood of old from your mother." Looking towards the port he smiled, "Go and prepare yourself for the ceremony, I will meet with the arrivals."
Helga gave a nod leaving, each step filled with joy. Seeing his daughter he knew that his people were in safe hands if he died. Walking down the hill he walked towards the main port, reserved for only the most important.
"King Knut, Jarl Halfdan." Erik walked over his arms spread, "I welcome you to my home." The men looked at him with hearty smiles as they reached out and shook hands.
"I must say, Jarl Erik. When you summoned us, I didn't know what to expect. I thought these lands had filled with cravens." Knut's words got a round of laughs from the men. Recent times had seen an unlikely long stretch of peace due to the harsh weather.
"If all these men had turned down the prospect of a Great Adventure, their ancestors would beg the gods to kill them." Halfdan joked as he looked around in pride of his people.
"Enough of that." Knut jumped in again. "When do we feast? Don't tell me you've become stingy after some bad weather Erik."
"I'm sorry my friend, there is no traditional feast." His words caused disappointment in the two but quickly salvaging it he carried on, "Instead we summon the Gods to bless this adventure."
"You have two God Bound," Halfdan spoke in shock. Knut was similar as the two looked at Erik with anticipation. The God Summoning festival was a sacred event that could only be carried out by those destined to become Demi-Gods in the pantheon, whether it was due to great feats in their life or a blessing from birth.
It was a dangerous ceremony that if failed would bring great disaster to all those involved and observing it for daring to try and summon the Gods whilst being unworthy, causing it to be used only for monumental occasions.
With a cheeky smile, he looked at the two rubbing his beard, "Do you believe the Gods wouldn't send them despite this? The largest fleet to cross the Great River since the Age of Heros has gathered and we are to bring in a new age for our people." The two looked behind them at the ever-increasing fleet and nodded, understanding that it was a time deserving of a God Summoning. "I must leave you two now and prepare. When the moons are at their peak, the festival shall begin." Walking away, the two men stood on the pier looking at the arriving fleet, excited for the coming adventure.
The midnight moons hung high in the clear sky. Every man, woman and child circled a platform in the centre of the town square. The four leaders of the Great Adventure, Erik, Halfdan, Knut and a King named Frode stood within the circle, below the platform.
Loud drumming came from the town hall, as ancient chanting was sung by withered-looking bald men in robes. The chant's meaning had been lost to the common person, but its tone was violent and full of praise. A path opened for the precession, with Helga in the centre of everybody, in front of her an old warrior.
Half her blond hair was braided, the other half flowing. Her blue eyes were now covered in a streak of red paint. Gone was her usual amour, now a loose-fitted black robe. Each step she took was full of power as her eyes burned with passion, looking towards the platform.
The old warrior in front of her had a face that was full of pride as he walked forward. He silently spoke the God's names under his breath as he gleefully smiled, ready to meet them. Walking up the step of the platform both the old warrior and Helga stopped, with him falling to his knees and spreading his arms.
Grabbing rope attached to two pillars, she tied the man's arms to it, locking him in place. One of the robed men ascended the steps handing a knife to Helga and a bowl of blood before heading back down them.
Taking the blood, Gorm opened his mouth, drinking from the bowl. Helga quickly followed drinking some of its contents and then coating the knife in the blood. With the remaining last bit, she threw on the four below before gently placing the bowl on the floor in front of Gorm.
Helga began, chanting the names of the Gods they wished to summon, being repeated by those surrounding her, "Bjorn descend and give us strength, Sigrid descend and lead us to victory, Asmund descend and protect us, Steffen descend and guide us."
Raising her hand towards the sky, she looked at the two moons, her eyes full of religious fervour. "We offer you Gorm 'the Sword Born' as a vessel to house you." A robed man walked back up the steps handing Helga a pair of white crystals that glowed. Cutting the shirt off the man, it showed a body covered in scars and wounds, telling of his life on the battlefield.
Gorm's name was known to everyone. He had been living on the battlefield since childhood until his old age never dying or being defeated in combat. They all knew that he had earned the title of God bound, but were still sceptical of Helga. Despite this, no one made a move to stop or interrupt the ceremony.
Taking the crystals the man went back down the steps. Gorm looked at the people below, his eyes full of pride. Taking a deep breath, the knife fell between his spine and shoulder blade. A grunt left his mouth as blood began to trickle down his chin, yet not a sound left his mouth after the initial grunt as he knew the summoning would fail if he showed weakness.
Helga worked quickly, dragging the blade downwards, cutting open the left side of Gorm's back. The man's body shook, but his eyes refused to give tears and he refused to scream, instead smiling to show the Gods he was a worthy vessel. Placing the first crystal in between his left shoulder blade and spine, she closed the cut piece of skin, moving on to the right. Once again the process repeated as the right side of his back was cut open, placing the crystal inside.
Gorm, fought to stay awake, and not pass out or die. Running off of pure willpower he felt the right side of his back close. His breathing had become heavy but he knew that the final stage of his role in the ritual was coming. Helga placed the blade on his neck. With the touch of the bloodied steel, Gorm gritted his teeth as he exhaustedly spoke.
"I offer myself for Bjorn, for Sigrid, for Asmund, for Steffen." Each word felt like climbing a hundred mountains, but he knew that with each word, he proved himself in front of the Gods and earned his status as a God Bound. Upon completion, the blade dragged across his neck, with his blood falling into the bowl beneath. It was a moment where everyone watched closely, for if a single drop landed outside it then the summoning was a failure. Gorm was the only one who didn't watch, his final moment filled with visions of him drinking with the Gods.
Helga held his head over the bowl carefully. Her eyes never left the bowl until the final drop of blood left Gorm's body. After a couple of minutes and no more blood leaving his body, Helga picked up the bowl with a happy smile. Everyone silently cheered seeing this but refused to make a sound scared of disrupting the ceremony.
The four men walked forward and stood below the platform. Helga walked forward, holding the bowl towards Erik's mouth first. "Strength of Bjorn." Pouring its content in his mouth she moved on to Knut. "Strength of Sigrid." Next was Erik, "Strength of Asmund." Finally, it was Frode, "Strength of Steffen." The four were given the strength of a single God to use, unworthy of harnessing all four.
With the bowl nearly empty, she drank the final contents taking the blessing of all four Gods. The four men moved back to their original places and watched. She stood in silence for a couple seconds closing her eyes. Everyone watched, waiting to see if she was truly deserving. They did not dare pray as it was not their place to try and influence the God's decisions.
Suddenly her eyes opened as she stared into the moons, a charming smile on her face. "The Gods have blessed us and this adventure. They ride alongside us as they did the heroes of old and ensure our success."
Looking back down at the crowd the men began to bang their shields with their weapons creating a synchronised rhythm that echoed throughout the town. Helga basked in it for a minute before raising her hands and silencing it. "Tomorrow, the world trembles as the Gods move once more for they bless the Great Adventure."
The sound of the shields echoed once more as everyone cheered 'Helga the God Summoner.' She looked down at everyone with pride and worship in her eyes, pleased to have been granted the revered title. She looked at her father who was full of fatherly pride, his eyes telling her that he was right about her being a God Bound.