"Chief, what should we do?" one of the Viking warriors asked, his bowstring taut, arrow aimed directly at the strange figure.
Bjorn raised a steady hand, signaling him to hold fire. "Wait..." he commanded, his voice calm but firm.
Cautiously, Bjorn began to approach the figure. Each step was deliberate, his weathered face a mixture of calculation and curiosity. The man—if he could even be called that—stood still, his piercing gaze fixed on Bjorn, tracking his every move without flinching.
When Bjorn was only a few meters away, he stopped. Speaking in a kind but commanding tone, he addressed the figure.
"Stranger, may I ask your name? Are you injured?"
The moment the words left Bjorn's lips, the man suddenly clutched his head, his flawless features contorting in pain. His eyes squeezed shut, and his jaw tightened as though enduring an unbearable burden. Astrid, standing behind her father, instinctively moved to help.
"Father, he's hurting—" she started, but Bjorn held out a hand to stop her, his grip firm on her arm.
"Stay back," he said, shaking his head. Though concern flickered in his green eyes, his experience told him caution was still paramount. Reluctantly, Astrid stepped back, her worried blue gaze fixed on the stranger.
After a few tense moments, the man steadied himself, his breaths slowing as he straightened to his full height. He looked at Bjorn again, his voice soft but clear.
"My name is Gabriel," he said, his tone carrying an otherworldly resonance. He gestured toward the sky. "And I am from... up there."
Bjorn's brow furrowed in confusion, and the warriors behind him exchanged uneasy glances. Gabriel continued, his gaze unwavering. "I'm fine now. My wounds are healed."
The Vikings exchanged whispers, astonished not just by Gabriel's words, but by the fact that he seemed to understand their language.
"You... can understand me?" Bjorn asked, his voice low and measured.
Gabriel nodded. "Yes. The moment you spoke, I understood you. I learned your language instantly."
A hushed murmur spread through the warriors, their astonishment palpable. One moment of conversation, and the stranger had mastered their tongue.
Astrid stepped forward, her curiosity overcoming her caution. "You said you came from up there," she said, pointing toward the sky. "Do you have a purpose here? A mission, perhaps? Why are you in our lands?"
Gabriel turned his gaze to her, and for a fleeting moment, Astrid's breath caught in her throat. His radiant beauty, combined with the intensity of his gaze, made her cheeks flush involuntarily. She quickly looked away, embarrassed.
"I have no mission," Gabriel replied calmly. "No goal. I do not even know why I am here. When I opened my eyes, I found myself in this unknown place."
Bjorn's voice broke the silence. "So you have no home, no place to stay?"
Gabriel shook his head. "No. Perhaps I will remain in this forest."
Bjorn considered this for a moment, then spoke with authority. "You can live in our village, at least for the time being. If you mean no harm, we'll offer you shelter."
One of the warriors behind him stepped forward, his voice sharp with skepticism. "Chief, are you sure about this? We don't know what he is—or why he's here."
Bjorn sighed, turning to face his men. "If he wanted to harm us, he could have done so already. You've seen his power—none of us would stand a chance if he wished us ill."
The warriors fell silent. It was rare for Bjorn to admit vulnerability, and the gravity in his voice only reinforced the truth of his words.
Gabriel nodded toward Bjorn. "You are wise, Chief. I can feel your care for your people." He paused before continuing. "If you allow me to stay in your village, I will protect it. Any danger that threatens your people, I will face."
Bjorn smiled faintly, impressed by Gabriel's resolve. "If that is your offer, we accept. But before we return to the village, I'd like to see what you're capable of."
Gabriel returned the smile, his expression warm. He raised his hand, and a soft white light emanated from his palm. Instantly, the destruction around them—the burned trees, the shattered earth—was restored. The forest returned to life before their eyes, vibrant and untouched.
The Vikings were speechless. Even Bjorn, a man hardened by countless battles, felt the stirrings of awe. It was as if a god had descended into their midst.
Bjorn's mind was racing. He turned to his daughter. "Astrid, I want you to be Gabriel's guide for now. He'll need someone to help him understand our village and our ways."
Astrid understood immediately—her father was testing her, seeing how she would handle this unique situation. She nodded. "If Sir Gabriel agrees, I will gladly take the role."
Bjorn turned to Gabriel. "Do you accept?"
Gabriel smiled again, his gaze settling on Astrid. "I would be honored. A beautiful lady as my guide? I have no objections."
Astrid's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, and the warriors behind her chuckled. Astrid, ever proud and composed, was rarely caught off guard like this.
"Keep laughing, and you'll regret it," she hissed, delivering an elbow to the nearest warrior's side. The laughter only grew louder.
Bjorn chuckled, shaking his head. "Enough. Someone give Gabriel some proper clothes. He can't walk around like that."
One of the warriors handed over a spare fur cloak, and Gabriel wrapped it around himself, finally covering his radiant—and distracting—form. As the group prepared to return to the village, Bjorn glanced around.
"We don't have a spare horse," he realized.
Gabriel unfolded his wings, their full span revealed in all their majesty. The Vikings froze, overwhelmed once again by the sight.
"It's fine," Gabriel said calmly. "I'll fly."
Bjorn gave him an approving nod. "Very well. Follow us."
As the Vikings began their journey back, Gabriel took to the sky, his wings carrying him gracefully above the trees. Watching him soar, the warriors couldn't help but wonder: Was his arrival a blessing—or an omen? Only time will tell.