The night was ablaze with an improbable light. A massive, round moon sailed prominently overhead, serving as a midday sun. The moonlight was elegant and enchanting, bathing the land in brightness without any scorching heat.
A young man with bright, golden hair was relentlessly sprinting across the meadow. On his back, he carried a certain amount of baggage, his course set determinedly southward.
This was Farran, disciple of the Travelling God. He carried a mandate from his master, Magni, to deliver a new bow, forged by the god Modi, to Blár, the Master Archer of the Poison Mist Swamp. Blár was now known as the King of the Skógareinn Kingdom—the 'Forest of Unity'—located far to the south.
The Kingdom of Iceland, founded by the divine brothers Modi and Magni, had recently expanded its dominion to include eighty-eight protected villages.
The first village and the very abode of the two gods was Mjǫllnirshús (Mjǫllnir's House), meaning 'The Residence of Mjǫllnir's Hammer.' This magical hammer, the symbol of their father Thor, also served as the capital of Iceland.
The eighty-eighth and most recently established village was the "Twitching Eyebrow Village." Upon hearing the name, Farran immediately guessed it was founded by Humans, a race whose civilization and progress lagged far behind those of the gods, Elves, and Dwarves.
Though Blár was crowned King of Skógareinn, his territory of five villages remained an integral part of Iceland, still bound by the Law of the Holy Hammer. This relegated Skógareinn to the status of a Subordinate Territory.
Blár had built this kingdom himself. Legends claimed he slew a massive Poison Wynr Dragon there, establishing the first community, Stöðvabýr (Stodvabir)—the 79th village of Iceland—on the site. He later expanded it to incorporate four more villages, declaring the five-village territory the Skógareinn Kingdom and taking the title of King, all with the express authorization of the gods Modi and Magni.
Farran's long journey took thirty-eight days. Upon his arrival at Skógareinn and informing the palace of his intention to meet the blue-haired forest elf King Blár, he was told he must wait an extra day, as audiences with the King at night were not easily granted.
However, once King Blár received news of the arrival of his junior disciple, Farran, His Majesty immediately commanded that the guest schedule be rearranged, making Farran the first to be received.
"Farran of Mjǫllnirshús, Disciple of the Travelling God, is granted a guest!" the black-haired forest elf guard announced.
Farran stepped into the wide hall, built of beautifully polished hardwood. Aromatic oil lamps lined the walls, reinforcing the tranquil and solemn atmosphere—a stark contrast to the bustle of new construction outside the castle gates.
He stopped in the open space, over ten paces from the high wooden throne. King Blár was seated, wearing a simple but dignified emerald green robe befitting a King of the forest elves.
Farran offered a respectful bow, placing both hands beside his head before lowering it submissively—a gesture typical of the Dwarves.
"I heard my junior disciple is human. Why do you offer the respect of a Dwarf?" King Blár asked, intrigued, his sharp eyes fixed on Farran, yet seeming comfortable with the gesture.
"Because I was raised and grew up in the Dwarf village known as the Holy Mandate Village," Farran replied humbly.
"The Holy Mandate Village of Dodan, that strongest Dwarf?" King Blár raised an eyebrow slightly. He knew Dodan well, as Dodan had also been a disciple of Magni before him. He then continued, "But when my guard announced your name, he said you were from the capital, Mjǫllnirshús."
Blár was surprised. He believed Magni's chief purpose in taking new disciples was to expand Iceland's influence, and recruiting a disciple from a village that already contributed one was a lost opportunity for expansion.
"I am a human child adopted by Vanya. When the God Magni later returned to our village, my mother pleaded with the Master to accept me as another disciple," Farran explained his origin straightforwardly.
"Ah! Vanya is also a grandma to Dodan," Blár said in astonishment. He had met Vanya before—the wife of Elifr, one of the seven Dwarves of the Dragon Slayer Family, and a distant relative of Magni, descended from Thrudr.
"Then you must be an uncle of the strongest Dwarf, too," Blár concluded with an amused smile.
"No! No! Dodan is the head of our village, Your Majesty. I do not count myself as a higher relative to Dodan," Farran quickly waved his hands in fervent denial, his face flushing red with embarrassment at being linked to the mighty village head.
"Hahaha! What a grand background for my junior disciple! Hahaha!" King Blár laughed heartily. Though over fifty years old, his Elven lineage kept his appearance youthful, scarcely different from the seventeen-year-old Farran.
Farran felt greatly relieved that the King cordially called him "junior disciple." Without another word, he quickly set his baggage down and began searching inside.
He retrieved an object that resembled a small harp with an elegant curve, strung with only two cords. The object looked fragile and peculiar.
"I was commanded by the Master to deliver this new bow to you," Farran said, offering the harp.
"What is that!? You call this broken-down harp a bow?" Blár raised his eyebrows in high astonishment. The keen eyes of the Master Archer of the Poison Mist Swamp stared, bewildered, at the object in Farran's hand.
"That is correct, Your Majesty," Farran replied confidently. "It is the new bow crafted by our King, the God Modi."
Farran moved his fingers, engaging a hidden mechanism on the harp's body.
Crrreeeak!
In an instant, the harp-like object unfolded. The hidden outer curve sprang open, and the two strings stretched taut miraculously, fusing into a single, thick, strong bowstring. Its color was glossy yet non-reflective—perfect for an inconspicuous weapon by day and an excellent tool for stealth at night.
Farran presented the transformed bow to one of the royal guards to deliver to King Blár at the throne.
King Blár took the bow, his expression lighting up with joy. He deeply felt its refinement and power. He immediately rose from the throne and walked toward Farran, saying,
"You have travelled a long way and must be weary. Come! We shall dine together." He held the new bow tightly in his hand, not once thinking to put it down.
Farran bowed his head in humble acceptance. Blár then led him from the great hall to his private dining room, a wooden pavilion extending over the pond. A cool breeze passed through, carrying the fragrant aroma of the food prepared by the forest elves.
Blár casually invited Farran to sit at the carved wooden table, continuing in a relaxed tone as dishes were brought out.
"The path to the south is indeed long. Tell me, what did you encounter on your journey here?" King Blár asked, putting an orange, grape-like fruit into his mouth.
"Though long, this journey was not harsh. I chose to rest during the day and press on at night. After reaching the great lake, I headed to the lakeside community and hired a Dwarf named 'Glaðr' to ferry me across to the Twitching Eyebrow Village. From there, I traveled back east and safely arrived at this Stöðvabýr without incident."
Blár listened to the account, but his smiles began to fade before he counter-questioned:
"Wait a moment. By taking this detour, how long did it take you to arrive?"
"The weather was favorable. I reached the lakeside community and was able to sail the next day. After reaching the Twitching Eyebrow Village, I spent the day resting and moved at night. The total journey took thirty-nine days."
King Blár gently set the orange fruit on his plate, his gaze hardening instantly.
"What! Thirty-nine days! Are you not ashamed to be a disciple of the Travelling God? If you had used the normal, recorded route, it would have taken you no more than thirty days."
"I studied all the routes from past adventurers' records and knew that the valley path along the great lake often encounters a herd of fierce Fire Bulls. Furthermore, after passing that, one might have to face the Poison Wynr in the swamp area. But by choosing the detour by boat to the Twitching Eyebrow Village and then walking back, I avoided all those dangers."
King Blár suddenly stood up, fast enough to scrape his carved wooden chair back slightly. He walked to the edge of the pavilion, looking out over the pond.
"Without danger, Farran!" Blár's voice was distinctly infused with disappointment, its coldness sharp enough to freeze the water below.
Farran felt the sudden shift in atmosphere. He sat motionless, not daring to speak.
"We are all disciples of the God Magni, son of Thor!" Blár turned back, his gaze razor-sharp. "We are symbols of strength, courage, and the determination not to turn our backs on danger! The path you chose... it deeply disappoints me."
Farran, who had thought he was clever for choosing the safest route, fell silent.
"I understand that travelling at night, with well-trained senses, is like walking in the day. By avoiding the hot sun, you can move more freely," Blár reasoned with his junior disciple. "But we, the brave, must always choose to travel during the day, for that is when all travelers are abroad. When they meet trouble, we must lend aid. If you choose only the easy way for yourself, how can you be worthy of becoming an aid to the Pillar of the Law of the Holy Hammer?"
"But... My only duty was to deliver the item to you, Your Majesty," Farran tried to argue.
"You avoided the Fire Bulls... You fled the Poison Wynr..." Blár stressed each word like a hammer driving home Farran's failing. "You took the cowardly, circuitous route, and you feel proud? Remember this, Farran! The true purpose of the disciples of the Travelling God is not safe travel, but bravely confronting various threats. What you have done is completely discarded the opportunity to test and build the power the Master gave you."
Blár stopped and returned to his chair. The aura of anger began to settle, but disappointment still shadowed his eyes.
Farran looked away from Blár's intense gaze before answering in a low voice, "Senior Disciple... I realize that I was wrong."
Blár shouted, "Look me in the eye, Farran!"
Farran flinched and turned back to meet his senior disciple's gaze again.
"I believe you are not a coward, but simply unaware of your duty," Blár said, his tone less harsh but still decisive. "As your senior disciple, I have a duty to teach you these lessons."
Blár then turned and commanded his servants loudly: "Bring me my Tvíhǫgg!"
Tvíhǫgg (Twee-hogg) was the name of the bow Blár had received from Modi previously. It was an ingeniously crafted weapon whose bow handle was a sharp sword, allowing it to not only shoot arrows but also be used for combat.
"Listen carefully, Farran," Blár said firmly. "The weakness of the Poison Wynr lies in their poison-filled throat. If you destroy the poison sac in their neck, the toxins will mix with their blood and the Wynr will die instantly."
Blár paused, seeing Farran nod in understanding, then spoke of the other monster.
"As for the seemingly formidable Fire Bull herds, they are actually extremely timid. They are only fierce when together in large numbers. If you calmly start slaying the ones on the periphery one by one, their collective strength will dissipate."
Blár revealed a profound strategy: "Therefore, you should use the Poison Wynr's toxin to coat the tips of your arrows. Just wound them, and the potent poison will do the rest."
Just as Blár finished speaking, his servant returned with the Tvíhǫgg bow.
The blue-haired King took the well-worn Tvíhǫgg bow and handed it to Farran.
"Go and create the glory for your return journey that is worthy of the name, 'Disciple of the Travelling God,'" Blár concluded, his voice full of expectation.
Farran took the Tvíhǫgg bow with both hands. He bowed his head deeply, his heart filled with a new determination to redeem the mistake of his cowardly first journey and to prove himself worthy of his senior disciple's lesson.