For when Fjor had found himself in the bed of his home, a smile crossed his face. He loved his lifestyle. He loved his home. He loved his family. Three children were each in their own cots and he lay in his. The one he knew best had already begun upon making his weapons sharp. He was going to leave today.
"It's time to wake up." Her smile was something that he loved more than any sunrise and sunset. But when he was young, he enjoyed those things most.
His hands had made their way around the boots that he wore every day. They were large and made of a mixture of wool and leather. He stole them but he still felt no regret for his wrong as he believed it was a good thing. But that was a simple excuse and he knew it. "You've been asleep for so long."
"How long is that?"
"Three days."
The Viking's gaze dropped from his wife's face to the blankets that covered him. Something was off. There was something off.
There was something missing.
"Did I put on my boots?"
"No, you haven't even left your bed."
A chill left his skull and retreated down his spine. When he tried to arch his back to reposition himself, he felt a deep pain in his stomach. "They gave you medicine for what happened on the battlefield. Some say you won't make it. But I doubt it."
Fjor's mind wandered for some time. He wanted to stay here. He wanted to be with his friends and family for as long as humanly possible. But he knew that all things shall end and that the summer raids were upon them if he had spent as much time healing as he thought.
"I think I might hand off the throne." Despite not having the best moral compass, he had one and he followed it to a tee.
"Whatever makes you happy." He was a blessed man but he felt most alone.
As his eyes opened to the current time, his lip twitched and he lifted his right forearm to meet his brow. His breathing was growing heavy and his face was bright red. The thorn woman wasn't showing any sign of letting up. But when he looked closer at, her features, they seemed as if they mirrored she who sat closest to his heart.
"Is that you?"
His voice trembled some bit, but he knew that there was something that stopped Thorn from responding. She barely even responded to those in the forest.
"Fjor?"
Someway unknown to him, she had spoken. She had no mouth, but the sound was as if it came from all directions. The voice was calm and felt like it was missing something. The Viking King had come to the conclusion that it must have been missing her soul as she spoke with full emotion.
"Goodbye."
Like any good man, he let her go first. She took her first strike of the thorn trees. It impacted his stomach and continued upwards until the top and most of Fjor was gone from sight. Thorn didn't desire to stay. The combat part wasn't actually hard; it was simply completing the mission as such a machine would. The bad had won the second part of the first round.
"Looks like the first round of the Tournament is over! For we have two victories for the bad and Miss Thorn has won with medium difficulty!"
If the woman had emotions, she would feel sad, if she had eyes, she would've cried.
When she reentered the apartment building, she was welcomed by a large group of individuals that were most excited for her return. She knew that she would end up back at the arena again. There was nothing that had made her more bored. She expected that she would be bored for quite some time.
"Come on over here, let's have some fun!"
She was being called to the chow hall. A slight curiosity hit her mind when she thought of an apartment building having a chow hall. The others in the apartment were having a party. Some were breaking things; others were forming small cliques inside the group of the bad. But there was one constant, an enjoyment of their success in the first round. The first round was done on the first day. There will be another one tomorrow. Two more would be voted to leave and they had to wager their risk on victory so many times until one side was annihilated, and the others went somewhere else, perchance a place that was home.
"Maybe next time."
Back at the apartment building of the good, there was a somber feeling. On the side of the good was their leader of sorts. He was called the Traveler. He now knew what was needed. As he looked upon those in the building, he ran the game theory in the back of his mind. They threw a strong person and won. They are probably monsters in there so perhaps their minds aren't that developed. So, they will send out a brute. So, I wager a person who is upper in another field. Two to one chance.