Holding back, otherwise the rock would have gone straight through him.
"But I suppose you did succeed in killing it with your own hands. So, you'll be walking back to the Temple of Týr after you find and kill three Ancients while bringing their hearts back as proof." Said the god, causing Jakob to look at him in disbelief.
"Th-th-three A-An-An-Ancients?!" Jakob said, not believing he wanted to find and kill three Ancients and bring back their hearts.
Finding Ancients was hard enough due to their bodies being made entirely out of rock, making them difficult to spot them if they're sleeping. But killing them was nearly impossible with how their bodies are basically indestructible, and his father is telling him to kill three.
"Would you prefer three Soul Eaters, instead? Or perhaps three Dragons?" Demanded the god narrowing his eyes dangerously, his son quickly shaking his head.
"No! No, I'll find the Ancients and bring their hearts back, I swear!" Jakob said, knowing he shouldn't push his luck.
"Good…I expect them by nightfall. Otherwise, we'll have to start your training from the beginning if you can't handle such a simple task." The god said before vanishing in a bolt of lightning.
Once he was sure his father was gone, Jakob collapsed to his hands and knees, spitting up blood while clutching his side, feeling the broken ribs from his fight with the Troll. Not helped, when his father flicked the rock at him, along with his burned hands.
Having learned to suppress his pain and not let it show, as it'd only make things worse during his training. Only doing so, when he knew he was alone or only those he could trust were around.
Coughing and gagging for a more moments, Jakob shakily stood up before leaving to track down three Ancients, knowing he didn't have a lot of time left before nightfall...
"Brother! Brother!"
"ARGH!" With a roar, a twelve-year old Jakob Thorsson snapped awake, a war axe flying into his hand by his will, his gaze looking around wildly as if expecting a threat. But there was nothing, only the dark woods of Long Island, with the only source of light being the campfire in front of the twelve-year old demigod, still burning with no signs of dwindling anytime soon.
Jakob Thorsson was a twelve-year old young man with slicked back red hair, slightly pale skin and blue eyes. Along with being surprisingly muscular for his age, while also having several runic tattoos along his arms, going up to his shoulders and even across his back. His clothing consisted of dark reddish-brown steel-toed boots, dark blue jeans, a black short-sleeved top, black leather fingerless gloves and a black hooded leather bomber jacket.
"Brother?"
Jakob looked over at the source of the voice, only to see a blinking severed head. Normally, this would freak out anyone and possibly make them faint, but Jakob knew the head personally.
He was a creature known as a Fae, from the island formerly known as Avalon. He had two small horns on his head and a long grey beard. The crown of his head is covered in runic tattoos, and his lower lip is tattooed with a pattern, trailing down from the sides of his mouth and ending just above his beard. He also possesses a pair of glowing, golden eyes.
His name was Mimir.
Jakob sighed and slowly relaxed and leaned back against the log that had been his 'pillow' for all intents and purposes. He stared at the weapon in his hand, the Leviathan Axe, an axe forged by Dwarves. The blade was a dark grey color with a golden inlaid silver edge with runes along it, a wooden shaft with golden designs reinforcing it, and a matching golden pommel.
"You were fidgeting and muttering in your sleep. Nightmares?" Mimir asked softly.
"I dream of the past... and it isn't pleasant memories." Jakob said with a sigh as he rubbed his forehead.
"Ah, the days of your time in Asgard?" Mimir asked, knowing Jakob didn't talk much about his time in Asgard before he escaped.
"No... my time being trained by my father." Jakob said, his fists clenching.
"Take heart, brother, Magni and Modi suffered the same and were just as bruised as you likely were." Mimir said, trying to reassure him.
Jakob scoffed. "And looked how they turned out. Always tripping over themselves to impress our father. If he did the same to Thrúd-"
"I hear she wanted to be a Valkyrie, she'd have to have serious training for that, lad." Mimir said softly, knowing that to train to be a Valkyrie, Thrúd would have train very hard and most likely have her father help her out, be her training partner and teacher. "Harsh as the training, especially under Thor, likely is... it's what shapes you into the warrior you are today. Besides, you're alive, aren't you?"
Jakob chuckled. "I'm actually surprised I didn't die."
As silence filled the air, Jakob took a glance at the sky. It was still very dark, with no sign of dawn coming yet. So that must mean it is still very early in the morning, possibly an hour or two after midnight. Soon, his thoughts started to go back to the last five months... to when he escaped that place.
'Five months, huh? Time sure flies while running but I know I can't remain hidden forever. No one outruns Grandfather with those damn ravens of his.' Jakob thought with a subtle scowl. For five months he's been running and hiding from... those people.
He's always looked for an opportunity to escape and hide, but there never came a window of opportunity for him, but he always kept his eyes sharp and opened for such a chance. And he got his chance back in December, around the time of the Winter Solstice, actually not long after it, when something big happened, something that must've been so important that they took their eyes off Jakob, allowing him to slip away and run for it and he's never stopped since. He knew that if he's caught and brought back, it will be worse for him.