"Alvarsson." The sound of my name broke the silence. Ivar, The elder of our small community, had gathered pretty much the whole male population in the town hall. Apparently it was an important occasion because the hall was packed not only with sailors but with women and children as well. Ivar had gone on to explain the meeting's purpose when the meeting had started.

"People of Toft, Daniel and his crew returned last morning," the old leader had started, "and they came up empty."

This news had the entire room talking and babbling. Everyone, including myself, was shocked to hear this. In the past months and years, the constant raiding parties of Toft had at least come back with something. A few engineering schematics here, some food supplies over there. The occasional goods and commodities that a small town needed for survival. But this time, nothing had been found.

Ivar had gone on, "The trading post has been moved. Daniel said it wasn't at its regular location. It seems they've gone elsewhere, also in search of new supplies. Our other parties reported the same thing this morning. They've barely found anything by the looks of it."

"So what do we do now?" A voice had called from the crowd. A few murmurs and hushed voices repeated the question, and Ivar had held up his oak cane for silence. Of course, the entire hall obeyed their leader's wishes and the sounds had died out. That was one thing I liked about the old elder. Ivar was respected and loved by almost everyone in Toft. He made the right decisions, not just for the individual, but for the group as well. He carried himself with purpose, never second-guessing his words or actions. Maybe it was his long graying beard that helped with his image of leadership, I mused. Ivar sported a lengthy braided beard, customary of a community elder. There was more than one occasion where I had jokingly thought about the consequences of having such long facial hair. The old man had a fairly high chance of misstepping and breaking his neck.
"The council and I have decided to put together another party." Ivar had explained, "And we have decided on who will go."

That last sentence was what silenced the entire hall. While raiding parties were necessary to our survival, they were also dangerous, if not deadly. And now at this moment, it was my name that was mentioned first.

"Alvarsson? Will you please step up here?" Ivar's booming voice called out again. Realizing I hadn't responded the first time, I hesitantly stepped from the crowd and joined him on the raised platform. I stood awkwardly, noticing that all eyes were on me. They could've at least planned this beforehand, I thought begrudgingly. They could've done anything to make this less uncomfortable. Ivar was speaking again.

"Felman Berg, please, come up here." A tall, broad-shouldered man with long black hair tied up behind his neck stepped forward. As he took his place beside me, he stood well over a head taller, and I thought he looked familiar. Where did I see him before? My mind searched. Sailor School, that was it. Sailor School was an academy that all seamen had to go through in order to take part in raiding parties. I myself was a graduate of the school, and now that I could remember, Felman was also a fellow graduate. I glanced at him again, this time finding a thin scar on the side of his throat. Yes, he was definitely familiar. Felman wasn't half bad at sailing if I remembered correctly. He was a straightforward type of person, which was a good quality of a leader. I vaguely remembered he was also the one who almost killed himself during training. I resisted a grin at the memory.

"Roscoe Thorp." I shifted my attention back to the large gathering. This time a shorter, blond-haired man with a thick mustache walked up the platform. A simple one-handed sword hung at his side. This one, I didn't recognize from Sailor School. From what people were saying, he was new in Toft. And from the rumors that usually plagued a small town, he was said to be quite mysterious. He was supposedly an expert with both sword and rifle, but whether that was true or not was unknown. Despite his shorter height, he got up to us with ease and stood by Felman. As my eyes wandered back to who would be picked next, I met eyes with Brandt. Damn, I thought, instantly moving my gaze elsewhere. Too late. He continued to stare at me, a slight frown on his face. I sighed inwardly.

Brandt was an interesting person, to say the least. He was more like a thorn in my side, in fact. Maybe his age had something to do about it. Brandt was in his early forties, which made him twice as older than I was, and twice as annoying as any other person I had ever encountered. He was a senior captain at Sailor School and was a hard instructor. He was the one I had mostly trained under. It didn't matter if you pleased him or not because he would always find something to reprimand you for. Mistakes that other instructors would pass off wouldn't get by with Brandt. If you were caught, it would land you a firm rebuke. Normally, I would've passed him off as just a difficult teacher. But Brandt, being the old prick that he is, could fit into an entirely different category of his own. I locked eyes with him again and saw that he was still looking in my direction. The hell was wrong with him? Not only was he a pain in the side, but he also gave off a chilling aura, like the feeling you would get while someone watches you.

"Brandt." His name being called broke my train of thought. No, not Brandt, I groaned internally. The reddish haired captain strode up the stage and found a spot on my other side. This mission would surely be the death of me, I thought despairingly.

Stroking his stubble, Brandt whispered to me, "Look, whether you like it or not, we're both going to be a part of this team. Let's just get the mission done, okay?"

"Whatever you say, captain." I answered without turning to him. The reply was meant to be sarcastic, but the hardened sailor took it seriously. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brandt nod with approval.

"Good, then." He said. Even though he could be a pain in the backside, I had to admit that Brandt was somewhat more professional when he wasn't your instructor. Ivor was calling out the final name and I searched the packed room.

"And finally, Tova Holman. Will you please come forward?" The cramped room began shuffling slightly as they made room to allow access to the stage. People began to murmur and talk amongst themselves as the next candidate made their way forward. Roscoe, Felman, Brandt, and myself also gave a sound of surprise as we saw who it was. It was a woman, and one I had never seen in Toft before. Usually, when raiding parties left to scavenge for resources, no women came along. And if they did venture with the all-male crew, it was usually to keep track of important data and information. So in one way, the women who did join raiding parties did far more important work than the sailors or soldiers onboard. Dark brown hair tied neatly in a bun, Tova marched up the steps and stood next to Roscoe. She was clearly taller than him but stood no chance compared to Felman's height.

"Well, damn." I heard Brandt say under his breath.

"You're a bit old for her, don't you think?" I said, grinning at my own wit. Brandt grunted dismissively.

"You know what this means?" He said.

"No Brandt, I don't."

He ignored my sardonic reply and continued. "If there's a woman going with us, there's a good chance she's a researcher of some kind. And if she's that important, that means our destination must be important. This trip isn't going to be a short one."

Ivor was speaking once more, holding his cane out to silence the chatter of the room.

"The council and I have decided to send out these people—your people to journey far off, in order to save our community. And perhaps, they might even save all of United Scandinavia." Now, what was Ivor talking about? An uneasy feeling washed over me, and my stomach churned in response. This seemed like much more than a simple back and forth mission. Looking at the rest of the candidates, I saw that they too seemed a bit uncomfortable. Tova shifted in her spot, as well as Roscoe. Felman itched a spot behind his ear. Brandt stood motionless.

"These brave souls will set off tomorrow." Ivor gestured to us, and the hall applauded.

Ivor then faced us and said in a low voice, "Go report to Captain Knud at the docks tomorrow morning at 7:00 for a briefing. He'll fill you in on all the details. I am sorry for putting you on the spot like this." He declined his head in apology.

In what seemed to happen in the blink of an eye, the five of us exited the town hall and went our separate ways. What just happened? We were going on a mission of some sort. That was clear. But tomorrow? And on such short notice? I strolled back to my own apartment now, trying to wrap my head around this whole matter. Hopefully, we would all find out the truth tomorrow. I looked up at the sun in the sky, its light was partially obstructed by the ever-present gray clouds. Well, at least they gave us half a day to prepare, I thought wryly. Reaching my apartment on the second floor, I walked inside and rested on the living room sofa.

"Alvey? Is that you?" My mother's voice called from the kitchen. I dug around in the couch and finally found the remote to the tv.

"Yeah, it's me. I got some news, mom." I found the news channel and instantly regretted it. The same, bleak message was being broadcasted again. Why did I even bother? I turned off the tv.

"Alvey." I turned in my place and saw my mom standing in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, brushing a loose strand of brown hair from her face.

"Yeah, mom?"

"What did you want to tell me?"

I paused before answering.

"They're sending me on a raiding party."

Her eyebrows came together in a frown.

"I feared as much. Who's 'they'?"

"Ivor and the council, just now. I'm leaving tomorrow. I don't know how long I'll be gone."

She came around and sat beside me.

"Be safe, Alvey." She looked at me, her eyes unblinking. "And come back."

I grinned.

"Don't worry, I'll be back. Brandt will make sure of that. Who else is he going to boss around if I don't come back?" My mother responded with a smile of her own. She rarely smiled these days, but when she did seemed to alleviate all the tension in the room.

"He is an old thorn, isn't he?" She sighed and sat up. "Well, you better start gathering your things, Alvey. Call me when you're offshore?"

"I will." I responded, getting up as well.

She sauntered back to her work in the kitchen, and I followed, noticing the faint aroma of lunch.

The next morning was cold and unsympathetic as usual. The sun hadn't risen yet, but I got out of bed anyway. Making sure everything I had packed was in order, I stepped outside, pulling my jacket closer for warmth. I might as well see if I could talk to my father before I left. I closed the door to my apartment as quietly as I could and started up the path that led up to the Mourning Place. It was a simple clearing above Toft, a bit aways from every other building. The only sign that marked its location was a tall oak tree that was nestled in the middle of the clearing. Elaborate carvings and lettering pronounced the tree, from the base all the way to where its canopy spread out at the top. I kneeled on the permafrost and bowed my head, muttering the same short prayer I had memorized for years. I opened my eyes. The tree stared back at me. Nothing. Then I noticed a light breeze blowing through the small glade. It picked up speed and power now, concentrating around the tree, picking up twigs and leaves, and twirling them around the trunk. And then the tree began to glow a bright orange and yellow.

"Son of Alvar." A booming voice resonated from the radiating oak tree, knocking me down. The voice was loud, painfully loud. And the sound seemed to carry physical force as well. I got up to my knees, my head ringing.

"Answer, Son of Alvar."

"Yes? I'm here."

"You wish to speak with your father, do you not?"

"I—I do."

The breeze turned into a strong wind and I had to cover my eyes to keep the debris away. Through the cracks of my fingers, the tree opened up, allowing a shining figure to exit. I yelped as it turned to me. Then the wind died down, and the glowing figure began to shine less and less, enough for me to determine who it was. It was my father.

"Dad?" I said breathlessly. Still maintaining a slight brightness, he held out his hand. I took it and pulled myself to my feet, facing him. He was as I last remembered him, with short black hair and a clean-shaven face, he smiled at me.

"I've missed you, son." Even his voice sounded how I remembered it, low but quiet, gentle enough to put a child to sleep almost instantly. He put a hand on my shoulder and led me to the edge of the clearing, which overlooked Toft.

"I know you have many questions, but we only have so much time. Go on, ask away."

My first question blurted out of my mouth.

"How? How are we talking right now?"

He gave a low chuckle.

"You asked, and the gods answered. Don't you remember how this works? It really isn't that complicated."

"But... it's never worked before. I've tried hundreds of times. Why now?"

"I'm no expert on how the gods work, son, but I can guess. From what I understand, they only grant people's requests when they need it the most. Even though you've asked many times, I'm guessing they didn't feel the need to answer you yet. But now, it seems as if it's needed." He looked at me. "So, why are you in need?"

"I'm heading off on a raiding party, but I don't think it'll be a normal one. Ivar and the council..." I trailed off. My father knew nothing of the world after the Great Winter. He had died before everything had changed, after all. I opened my mouth, ready to blurt out a short history lesson on the events of the past 15 years.

"You can continue, son. I already know the current events of the world." He interrupted me and I looked at him, puzzled. He explained, "I've been watching from up there ever since. What else would I be doing?" He gave another one of those soothing chuckles, and I relaxed.

"Well, I've been getting a bad feeling about this raid. It's going to be a long one." I hesitated before voicing my next thoughts. "I'm scared, dad."

"There's no need for that, son. At least you're being honest with yourself. As long as the crew is good and you keep your wits, you should be fine." He gave a wide grin. "And besides, I'll be watching you, along with all the other gods." His words eased up the tension that was slowly building in my stomach.

"You like it up there?"

"What, Valhalla? It's not too bad. We have everything one could possibly need up here. How about down here? How's it going?"

"Well, the world's gone to hell for one. And it doesn't seem to get any better. We're barely surviving, especially here."

"At least you're alive." My father said, and I smiled at him.

As we stood overlooking Toft, the sun began to rise, just barely cresting over the horizon. My father started walking back to the oak tree.

"I should be going now."

"Can I speak with you again later?" I asked, following him close behind.

"That depends. Like I said, the gods will allow us to commune depending on your situation." The tree began to glow again, increasing in brightness as my father got closer.

"So don't get into any danger, okay son?" And with that, the tree opened up and my father climbed in, disappearing almost instantly. Damn it, I thought. I had so many other questions that were only now coming to me. But then I shrugged them off. At least I got the most important information. My father was... well, he wasn't alive, not here at least. But he was doing well.

It was 6:58 by the time I reached the docks. My backpack slung over one shoulder, I continued down the walkway. Three ships were docked. On the left was an old modified corvette, with the name Serpent written on the side. That was Daniel's raiding ship of choice, the one that apparently came back empty-handed. On the same side lay the Seeker, an even older barge which was owned by the local fisherman. It had been in for repairs after French pirates attacked it several weeks ago. But on the right side, to my surprise, lay a ship I had never seen before. It was like Daniel's ship, but much newer and almost half the size, with the top deck sporting a more spacious area. Like a cross between a smaller corvette and a barge, it sat idle, with no immediate crew aboard. It was a beautiful ship, now that I saw it. Its sleek design and militaristic build fit the look. The name, Voyager was emboldened on the side of the ship, with the United Scandinavian flag painted above it.

"Hey, Alvarsson." I turned and saw the tall figure of Felman calling out to me. Roscoe, Brandt, and Tova were all gathered with him. I jogged over to them.

"Good morning." I greeted the small group. Everyone but Tova nodded at my arrival. She waved instead.

"Do you, by any chance," said Roscoe, "know what's going on?"

"Haven't a clue." I shrugged.

"Well, Captain Knud should be here by now." Felman said, checking his watch.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm here." We all turned to see where the raspy voice came from. Walking down a gangplank that connected the Voyager to the dock, an old man in a heavy overcoat waved a hand.

"Why don't you start loading in your things." The captain gestured to our bags. "We'll discuss matters inside."