The first rays of dawn pierced through the clouds above Midgard, illuminating the valley where the village of Skogmark stood.

Eirik, a young warrior, stood on the cliffs, gazing at the horizon. A chill ran down his spine, a sense of unease that had lingered for several days.

The elders whispered that the winds carried dark omens, and even the bravest hunters hesitated to venture far from their homes that week.

"Eirik!" A familiar voice broke his thoughts. It was Freydis, his younger sister, with her blonde braid falling over her shoulder.

She ran toward him, her cheeks flushed from the effort. "You're still up here daydreaming? Mother wants you to help her prepare for the banquet for the Equinox festival."

Eirik looked at her without answering. The festivities, the food, the dances... all of it seemed trivial in the face of the storm he felt approaching.

Nevertheless, he shook his head and followed Freydis, slowly descending the hill toward the wooden huts where life still seemed peaceful.

Inside the great hall, the villagers bustled around wooden tables, preparing meats, bread, and horns filled with mead.

They told ancient tales of heroes and gods: of Thor battling giants, of Odin sacrificing his eye for wisdom, and of Loki, the trickster, always sowing mischief.

But this year, the atmosphere felt different. The faces were graver, the laughter quieter.

The warriors whispered among themselves, sharing troubling news from other clans: disappearances, beasts growing more aggressive, and even signs of giants in the mountains.

As Eirik was about to help, a figure in a hood entered the hall. An eerie silence fell.

All eyes turned to the stranger, a tall, thin man whose clothes and gait spoke of hardships endured. He lowered his hood, revealing a face marked by age and suffering.

"I bring news from Asgard," he murmured in a rough voice.

A murmur of fear swept through the crowd. The man, standing tall despite his frail figure, locked eyes with each villager with an icy intensity.

"Odin and his sons need you, mortals of Midgard. A shadow is spreading through the realms. And those who refuse to heed the call of the wind will be swept away by the coming storm."

Eirik's heart began to beat faster. So it was true. The fear that had haunted him for weeks was not just a feeling, but a warning.

As the stranger continued his speech about the dark events shaking the celestial realms, a certainty settled in Eirik: his life, like that of every man and woman in Midgard, was about to change forever.

The villagers exchanged glances, gripped by panic. Some murmured prayers, while others sought comfort from the elders.

But Eirik remained focused on the stranger, who met his gaze with an intensity that seemed strangely familiar.

"I leave at dawn tomorrow," the man announced, his voice filled with determination. "Those who have the courage to defy fate may join me. But know this—this path leads to lands where even the gods fear to tread."

Eirik felt a flame ignite within him, an urge he didn't fully understand but couldn't ignore. He knew that from tomorrow, his life would never be the same.

After the stranger's words, silence fell. No one dared speak. All were frozen, eyes wide, breaths held, as though afraid to break the spell cast by this mysterious man. Yet, in Eirik, the flame burned brighter.

Fear rumbled within him, but an ancient, almost primal desire urged him to answer this call, to seize this adventure, no matter where it would lead.

The hooded man approached the fire in the hall and raised his hands, making slow gestures in the air. Suddenly, the flames leaped higher, casting shadows on the wooden walls.

"Know this," he said in his rough voice. "The sons of Jotunheim, the giants, sworn enemies of the gods, walk among you again. They have broken the ancient pacts and seek to destroy the balance of the Nine Realms."

The murmurs among the villagers grew louder, fear giving way to panic. Freydis grabbed Eirik's arm, her face filled with worry.

"What does he mean? Giants? Do you really think they'll come to our valley?"

Eirik placed a reassuring hand on his sister's shoulder, though he too was troubled. The stories of giants were just legends, tales meant to scare children and remind men of their fragility.

Yet, in the presence of this strange man and the weight of his words, these legends suddenly seemed much more real.

The stranger swept his gaze over the crowd with his bright eyes. "What I ask of you is not an ordinary sacrifice. Those who join me must leave everything behind. There will be no return, no promise of victory. Only a chance to protect Midgard, to fight against oblivion and destruction."

He fixed Eirik in the eyes, and Eirik felt his heart race.

The man seemed to have chosen him, among all others. Eirik knew he had to answer this call, even though he didn't fully understand why. Like an ancient force, an inner voice, it urged him toward the unknown.

"I will go," Eirik declared, his voice cutting through the whispers of the crowd. Freydis grabbed his arm, her eyes wide with terror. "You can't go! What if he's lying? What if you never return?"

But Eirik gently shook his head. "I can't stay here, Freydis. I feel this call. Maybe it's madness... but I know I have to do this."

The stranger gave a faint smile, as if he had been waiting for this response. He placed a hand on Eirik's shoulder, a simple gesture, but symbolic—a transfer of duty, a silent vow. "Courage lies not in the battles we choose, but in those we cannot avoid."

At these words, other young warriors exchanged looks, torn between admiration and fear.

One stepped forward. Then another. Gradually, a group of men and women decided to follow the stranger, leaving behind the festival, the promises of the equinox, and, for some, their families.

The elderly man led them out of the great hall. Night had fallen over the village, and the stars shone brightly in the sky.

Under their pale light, he pointed to a narrow path winding through the mountains. "Tonight, you are mortals, but at dawn, you will become the defenders of Midgard. Rest, for tomorrow, the true journey begins."

Heart pounding, Eirik looked up at the sky. The stars seemed to shine more brightly, as if watching them, silent witnesses to their departure. Tomorrow, he thought, he would become more than just a son of Skogmark. Tomorrow, he would embrace his fate, whatever it might be.