The character entries below are supposed to be the same person at different points in his life. I’d like to show him as a child, then becoming bitter, then finding redemption later in life. Would like some feedback on the tone.
Hans walked down the road, his right hand gently massaging the stump that was his left forearm. It hurt today. It hurt most days. But most days weren’t the anniversary of the event that caused the maiming. Most days weren’t the anniversary of his wife’s death. Beautiful Adria. Her smile. Her wit. Her blind love of life. The anniversary of all those things snuffed out like a flame in a strong wind…
Flame. What an appropriate twist of words. Visions of the burning long hut that had taken his wife from him floated through Hans’s head. Not that this was a novel occurrence. It was daily. Incessant. Unending. Tortuous.
Why? And then, how many times had why been asked? And then how many times had no answer been given. Just silence. How was one supposed to rant at silence? To rail at the deafening silence that everyone told him knew what it was doing, and had chosen to take Adria as part of some great cosmic plan. Was Odin the one who had made this decision? Did the Christian emissaries have it right? Perhaps the hag on the hill knew what she was talking about when she babbled that the sun was the only god, and he had a vengeful burning heart. Perhaps it was nothing. Just a big empty Silence.
Hans cared not for his own injuries. Except the one that twisted inside of him every time he lay alone at night. No head on his shoulder. The smell of flowery soaps noticeably missing from the pillow next to his own. The bed and hides still smelled of smoke. Three years later was it? Or only two? It seemed like eternity folded in upon itself, and Hans stood at the fold, stuck in a valley of endless, timeless longing. Gods he missed her.
The young boy walked along the worn path to the longhouse he shared with his family. From a distance, he could see the thatch on just above the pantry entrance would need to be replaced soon. Internally, he thanked Fulla for the healthy harvest that would provide the raw materials for the patching, followed closely by thanking Höðr for a job that would make him stronger, and thus a better warrior. Ah, the gods were smiling upon him today. Of course, they always smiled on him when he got a chance to see his Adria. Well, maybe not his yet. But she would be. Hans sighed and continued walking, thoughts of Adria making his steps just a bit more energetic than they otherwise might have been.