Seeing Astrid again caused Erik's mind to travel back to a simpler time. It was now eleven years in the past, four years before the awakening and Edda's betrayal. Erik and Edda were both fourteen years old at this point.
The icy wind of Kirkenes in winter swept through the still-bustling harbour, carrying with it the salty tang of the sea and distant echoes of what few hardy seagulls stayed in the north rather than migrate to the south.
There was no sun in the sky, despite being midday, as Kirkenes was currently at the start of its polar midnight phase, where the sun wouldn't return for at least two months. Instead, street lanterns and a twilight gloom lit up the harbour.
Erik, his silver-gray hair tousled by the breeze, stood beside Edda as they looked out over the harbour crowd. His eyes, reflecting a timidity that would shock anyone who met him in later years, wandered over the crates and ropes that littered the docks.
