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The Lost Spirit

Chapter 1: A King, A Soilder, A Prince

People would describe Mikkel as many things. These include:

Loud, Nosy, immature and adventurous.

But sometimes he'd also get described as:

Thoughtful, Mature, Calculated and a leader.

His personality depended on the setting he was in. When he was free to do what he wanted, Mikkel had alsways been more childish. He loved going out and see the world, wanting to get to new horizons and be the adventures of his favourite books. He'd play in the sun, just as he would run around in the worst storms, while his nanny shouted at his madness.

Mikkel was generally a free spirit.

But as the only son and crown prince to the Dansen Kingdom he had no choice but to lay down his "childish acts", as his father would call them, on his sixth birthday.

As a son of a royal family he of course inherited the family gift.

All royal families held a special gift, that was unique to said family. The bloodlines were kept as pure as possible to not dilute the powers. It was said that the more powerful gifts will make the kingdoms more powerful.

Mikkel had to say that his family's gift was pretty powerful! They had the gift of Command. With one word his family could make everyone follow thier orders. He hadn't liked the gift during his early childhood. One word from his mother or a short command by his father and he was unable to resist.

"Quiet!", he could no longer talk about his day to his father.

"Sit down!", said to him by his mother during a boring church service.

"Stop!", when he wanted to throw something in frustration.

"Freeze!", when he wanted to run away.

But all that changed on his sixth birthday. The day he got the gift himself.

Mikkel's gift was stronger than his parent's. He could command full sentence rather than the one or two word commands his parents are limited to. Mikkel could easily say: "Bring me ice cream!" and the sweet dish was given to him within minutes.

Of course the power of commands can be dangerous in a child's hands. Therefore his parents made him train his gift ever since gaining it.

As well as lessons in fighting, leadership and ruling the kingdom.

This was how the young boy became more quiet, calculated.

"He is so mature for his age!"

Mikkel hated that sentence. He wasn't mature, he was just acting as his parents wanted him to act. When he was sitting in his boring lessons everyday, he was longing for the outside, for the freedom he had held.

During his eighth summer something happend, something no one had expected.

For his birthday Mikkel was given the day free of lessons and he had enjoyed it. Every single second! He got the castle workers children to play with him, knights and pirates. Kings (of course him) and his dukes.

But during one game disaster struck.

They have been playing mythical creatures. Mikkel wanted to be a dragon, he had proclaimed, a dragon with a mighty fire breath!

He had climbed a small wall, standing over the other children and the guards keeping watch. His parents in the garden looking at him with neutral unintrest.

"I am the dragon of this castle! Fear my fire!"

It was just a game, right? He was just playing. But just as he envisioned fire comming forth, actual fire erupted from his hands, shooting directly towards the other children.

Mikkel can't remeber what happend after that. He was still in shock, looking at his hands. The cries of the other children blurring in the background as a buzzing sound became louder in his ear. It was like a whisper, trying to say something to him. But Mikkel didn't understand.

He was still frozen, as he was grippedd by the shoulder and yanked to the castle.

He thought he could hear his mother and father fighting, but no words reached his ear.

Mikkel ended up being locked in his chamber for four days. Food and water appearing when ever he awoke.

During those 4 days the fire erupted out of his hands more often than Mikkel could count.

When his father opened his chamber door, he was met with a room of scorch marks, wood burned to ashes, linen draped with holes and his son sitting in the corner looking in horror at the distruction he had created.

"Son," his father started, but Mikkel did not look up at him. "This is a glorious day. You will bring greatness to this kingdom! Under you, all the northern lands will come into the Dansen's hands. You shall reign as the undeniable king of the northern lands, because none of the others will have a chance against you! Even the Svea Kingdom will cower before you!"

Mikkel raised his head, looking at his father with tears in his eyes.

He spoke no words as he nodded and stood up to follow his father into his new future.

But was that really what he wanted? Was he now destined to be feared, to control and command?

For the little boy it seemed like it.

After all, gifts like command and fire can only be meant for a villain. Will he be known as the evil king?

~~~~~

If you ask the servants of the Svea family to describe the crown prince, you would get opposite answers depending on the person you ask.

The elderly would call him sweet and caring.

The younger ones would call him scary, threatening and sinister.

But was that the true picture of Björn?

Björn has been a shy person his entire life. He avoided conflicts and rarely spoke.

He had loved the times in his early childhood, when his father, the kind king, would take him out in nature. Show him the land, the animals, the riches of nature. Björn remembers how wonderfully his father could do wood working, a block of wood turning into figurines.

But that changed quickly when Björn started to grow.

Björn had grown faster than children his age would normally have grown. His size often scaring the children around him.

His mother was very pleased with her son's rapid growth and started teaching him fighting early on.

Swords, spears, with and without shields, axes, clubs and so many more. Björn had lost the count for them. But the most persistent weapon has been the sword.

His father, the gentle king he was, did not oppose his wife. He would never dare to challange his wife's choice. He always followed, as she was the one to hold the Svea's family gift in her blood.

"Our family's gift might give you a shield, but you need to be able to fight! Fight for our land and our people!"

His mother's lessons were strict, But Björn followed the schedule created by the queen without complaining.

While this strict plan didn't leave place for a childhood, Björn wasn't angry about that. He could not scare the other children if he wouldn't play with them. Chastising himself every time he'd yearn for the normal lives of the others.

Bjrön didn't have the possibility for being normal. He was the crown prince of the Svea Kingdom. The largest of the northern kingdoms, it's borders going from the eastern border of the finnic lands to the Kievan Rus, to the western border with the Norður Kingdom and finally the southern border to the Dansen Kingdom.

The Kingdom of Svea was surrounded by enemies, so his mother has taught him during the long winter nights, while studying the maps and borders.

"You need to understand our situation in this world to understand why our gift has evolved into the way it is today. You shall not use your gift until you have learned how to protect yourself and your subjects properly without it."

Now would you still call Björn sinister and scary? After all he was raised into this role. He couldn't have any other choice, right?

But if you see the small moments when Björn was on his own, you wouldn't see the war king his mother wanted him to become, but the protector his heart wanted him to be.

You would see a 5 year old Björn sneaking out of the castle during a thunderstorm to give food and shelter for the animals, fearful of the lighting strikes.

You would see a 7 year old Björn using his shielding gift to step into a thorn bush, so he could safe the lamb stuck there.

You would see a 8 year old Björn saving a boy's life and forever changing his own.

Björn was acting with good intentions when the stable boy was about to be trampeld to death by the horses.

During that fateful day, the spring sun was warmer than usual. The horses of the royal stables where given a wash, so they'd look as noble as possible for the next state celebration. The hair was trimmed, the winter coats brushed of and new hooves given by the farrier.

"That young colt needs to learn. He still gets spooked by to many sounds. How should that horse ever ride into battle?", the queen was discussing with the stable head.

The horse in question was a young two year old black colt. He was said to be promising, due to his father being one of the best horses of the royal stable. But this horse has always been uneasy around everyone who was suposed to handle him.

Björn had taken a liking in that colt. The queen had opposed his request of getting that horse, to dangerous. To high of a risk of the crown prince getting hurt.

Björn had to swallow his comment, that he could just use his shield. The queen would surely not appreciate back talk.

Then it all happend to fast.

The farrier dropped a hammer onto the cobble stone street. The loud sound spooking the young colt. Ears pointed up, the muscles enganging, the entire horse screamed in panic. Then it bolted though the stables, scaring more and more horses in the progess. After all, horses are herd animals - if one got spooked enough, everyone would try to flee.

Ropes couldn't hold them in check anymore as one after another broke free to join the frantic run forward the exit.

Directly to where the newest young stable boy was standing.

The stable boy froze in shock. He didn't react to his elders' call for him to jump aside. The boy just stood there looking into the gallaping death before him.

But suddenly, he could see the first floor of the castle wall, not the horses.

The very ground he had stood on has been raised into the sky, with the horses parting around it. The same way the water would part for a rock.

Then all eyes turned to the prince, the one who had his fist raised up, controlling the very movement of the earth.

When the horses had ran past, he opend his hand to level the platfrom out again. The courtyard looking like nothing had happend.

But something had happened. Something that had been anticipated for years.

The first to speak a word was a young scribe, who excitedly shouted: "Your majesty, it's the earth! Your son-"

"Stop! Not a word further!" The queens face was an unshakeble one, cold and distant. "If anyone who had witnessed this day that talks about this will be found and executed. Have I been understood?"

Everyone bowed to her, agreeing with her every word. Of course no one dared to question the queen.

The next hours became a blur for Björn.

Getting dragged to the throne room, advisors left and right. Voices from all over the room, talking with and against eachother. A giant Map of the northern lands was layed out before the throne. Books and scriptures were gathered, and heated depates comparing them started.

The queen sat on her throne, unmoving, determination etched into her face. Like a statue of the old hellenic gods. A queen by rank, a warrior by heart.

Björn stood right to his mother, his father on her left, both silent. Björn had learned to be silent next to her. How could he ever even dare to question her, to go against her? This was his queen, his mother. He was suposed to love her, to see her as a protector, as the gold standard, right?

Björn stood quiet, as his future was decided for him.

He never knew anything different.

His future was decided, his path was laid.

He was to gain the contol over the northern lands.

"Your power will make the Svea triumph over the Dansen family. One day you shall be the one king on the northern throne! Your childhood ends today. From this day forward, you be trained as the one, true ruler and king. Steadfast, ruthless. You shall never show your emotions."

Björn nodded.

He was to be like a statue, cold and unmoving. He was to be like his mother and queen before him.

~~~~~~

If you would ask people about Prince Sigurd people would tell you that he was distant.

That boy never shows emotions. He is unapproachable.

He is silent, not mute, but he won't cry or shout, or throw a tantrum.

Sigurd was called an ideal child by many. A picture perfect prince.

If you'd catch Sigurd, however, during the nights, or when no one was watching, you'd see a mischievous boy. He loved to cause some chaos by creating minor annoyances, misplacing glasses, papers or ink bottles. He loved to spy on the servents, listening to the old wives talk in the kitchen of the castle.

What he liked most was sneaking out during the night.

He always had trouble sleeping, so he acted like he had fallen asleep. When the adults themselves go into their beds, those were the moments when Sigurd was most content.

He loved to walk though the castle halls, when they were empty, cold, dark and devoid of life.

Because then he could hear the Nisse doing their nightly work. He could see the stars oh so clearer in the darkest of nights.

Like a little ghost Sigurd would wander the halls and the castle grounds. Dressed only in his night shirt. Barefooted.

The wonderful feeling of the stone and wooden flooring, to the grass and even the ice and snow outside.

The nights where the best for Sigurd.

But don't be afraid, the prince of the Norður family was never alone. The castle Nisse following him into every hall and room. Outside the Huldr, trolls and other creatures joining him.

They excitedly showed him the forest, the nature, the magic each of them hold.

They adored the little prince and Sigurd loved them back. Ever since he was born, one creature would always follow his path. When he got older, he started to speak with them.

The joy of them to finally have someone who sees them, who listens to them.

The creatures of the north have always been connected to Livets elv (river of life in NO). The holy river, as his family calls it. But this river did not belong to the humans. His family only visited the river once a year. The family gift may gave it new "light", but it was these creatures that gave the river life. The creatures that walked with Sigurd during the nights. That sang to him the most beautiful songs. That showed him magic like he had never seen. That tucked him into bed during the early hours of the day, when he finally did fall asleep, so no one would find out about the nightly adventures.

The trolls became his guardians, his friends, his family.

And they showed him how to use his gift properly. How he could use his gift and the memories to create visions, to create a guiding light. But also, how to lock memories away.

"My child, memories can do good and do harm. They hold happiness just as much as they can hold pain. Loss can be a terrible thing, but losing memories can be even worse. Don't abuse your power and never do harm to another, because you will only harm yourself."

Sigurd heeded the warning.

When his own father taught him how to use his gift in a harmful way, he merely acted like he'd follow. He acted excited about taking another person's memories by force. Or to alter them to torture someone.

"This is for your own good! You need to be able to fight against the Svea Kingdom and the Dansen kingdom. We don't have a physical strenghth, but the mind will always win in the end."

Sigurd nooded, the act of the perfect little prince still upholding.

"This is for the good of the Norður Kingdom."

He will continue to put up an act. Will be the perfect son.

Just like his father wants him to be.

~~~~~~

Sigurd sat at the edge of the wooden dock, his feet in the cold fjord.

The water following his command as he weaved patterns with his hands. Waves, shapes and even figures could be created with a flick of his hand. Sigurd loved this power.

He had been impartial to the chaos his family made of it. Especially his father.

The king had been furious. His perfect son would now need the other four elements to become king. His perfect son was now stained.

His mother on the other hand was calm as she talked with the other family members and her husband. It was clear to her that the prophecy had started, even if she didn't like it.

"Since the prophecy is about all the nothern lands, we should write to the Svea and Dansen families about it." His mother had spoken in a soft tone. His father was not amused. Sigurd still rolled his eyes at the outburst of anger from his father.

It took days of heated debates between the entire Norður family to decide the next course of action. And no, no one had asked Sigurd about his opinion. That still makes him mad.

But the choice that was made in the end was one he could agree on.

He looked at the two messengers on horseback as they disappeared into the forest. Away from his beloved fjord, riding inland to the Kingdoms of Svea and Dansen. Carrying an important letter with the royal insignia on it.

They were riding towards Sigurd's new future.

May it be good or bad.

~~~~~

To the majesty of the Svea / To the majesty of the Dansen,

Within the Norður lands we have discoverd the first child of the great prophecy.

We shall not reveal their name, occupation or power to you.

But we are inclined to arrange a meeting, if you have found other children of the prophecy.

We are sure that every single one of us will want to use the children for our own agenda and our own gain, strenghth and power. But be reminded that only together will our wars and conflicts end. And only together will the north gain an undisputed power.

We advise a ceasefire for the better. For our future.

With kind regrads,

King Ola and Queen Sigge of Norður

============

A big thank you goes to @darcymariaphoster for correcting my spelling errors and correcting grammar!

This is Chapter 1 of The lost spirit completed. Crossposting on Ao3 aswell!

Have a nice day everyone!

#aph denmark #aph norway #aph sweden #aph finland #aph iceland #aph nordics #hetalia #hetalia nordics #hws norway #hws finland #hws denmark #hws sweden #hws iceland #hws nordics #aph fanfiction #hetalia fanfiction

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